#i like when there raptor went underwater

[quicktimeeventfull]

rewatching the jurassic world series & i think people fail to appreciate the genius of this franchise, which is that the second movie was so godawful that it weeded out any viewers with taste, leaving the third free to pander to people unencumbered with standards or the desire for quality (me) who just want to see a big dinosaur try to eat a plane

[huntunderironskies]

Rating the GW2 Mounts in the most Unhelpful Way Possible

I can now say I have thought about the most useless worldbuilding exercise for GW2: how mounts would theoretically feel to ride. This is, as I'm sure you can tell, the most important thing to consider in a video game. What's a mechanic? Never heard of her.

So a quick prelude: if you've never rode horses before: you cannot actually sit still in the saddle or you will, probably literally, break your crotch and/or fall off if the horse is doing anything faster than a trot. Because the horse is, well, moving and its muscles and legs are going to shift you around on its back. In order to not die or be seriously injured, you have to use the stirrups (unless you're going bareback in which case…yeah, I'm not sure what you'd do because I've never tried, I assume you would have to grip pretty tightly with your legs around the horse's side so you can still keep with the horse's body motions) to lift yourself up and then back down with the horse's gait. There's a rhythm to it and you kind of get used to it over time. Now, as we all know, horses don't exist, but the techniques should be roughly comparable, so now I have given unnecessarily in-depth consideration to what the different mounts would be like to ride.

Raptor

I'd imagine this would be pretty rough-- having its center of gravity towards its back end and therefore jerking forward a lot would make it a bumpy ride even if your balance and technique is really good because you'd have the additional complication of needing to lean forward while keeping your rhythm. Also the raptor bobs forward a lot when they're moving, which again makes it hard to keep your balance. 5/10, but that long jump looks like it'd be really fun until you get the mastery where it gets to be an absurdly long jump.

Springer

God, this looks like they'd be a nightmare to ride. All of the bouncing around means it'd be hitting the ground hard which is probably fine for the springer since they're built like kangaroos but not for you. This would be particularly bad in its high jump since you'd need to stay high in the saddle for the duration of it before the springer hits the ground. Even with the backpiece on the saddle giving you more of a seat to settle in, it seems like there's a serious risk of sliding off. 3/10.

Jackal

Among the most comfortable looking other than the turtle which doesn't have a saddle so much as a mobile command center. That said, briefly heading through the Realm of Torment while porting would probably be a little scary. 8/10. Probably no different than riding a horse, honestly, if the horse went to hell whenever it needed to travel somewhere it couldn't otherwise reach.

Skimmer

So the skimmer seems to be more or less frictionless other than air resistance, which would probably make it very comfortable to ride. It's just hovering all the time meaning there's little adjustment to deal with. The saddle being set that far back looks like it'd be a little odd to get used to but at least skimmers don't really do sudden stops so much as sliding to a stop so overbalancing wouldn't be too much of a problem. I'm not sure how going that fast underwater would feel because they have not invented underwater jetpacks yet, but I imagine that much water pressure whooshing past you would mean you'd have to work a lot harder to not fall backwards off the saddle especially since they are fast underwater. The aileron roll that it does during its engage animation seems like your primary trick riding stunt and would take a lot of practice to do right but that wouldn't be something a beginning rider would deal with so I'm not counting that. 9/10 on land, 3/10 underwater….probably? Who knows.

Griffon

General speculation I've read is that winged creatures would be particularly difficult to ride because you're right behind their wings most of the time which would mean more motion right in front of you, making balancing harder. Also, if you fall you die. Griffons do flap their wings but spend most of their time gliding which would make this a little less bad. Diving, on the other hand, would be absolutely terrifying especially having to pull up from one because the shift in direction would make you lurch around no matter how good your technique is. However, I love their weird chimerical non-traditional griffon-ness, and they make cute trilling and cooing noises. 7/10, solely docking points for the fact that I would probably die riding one. Worth it. I want to pet one. That's not what I'm supposed to be grading on but I'm making an exception here.

Warclaw

Same thing as the jackal but bulkier and slower. The difference between riding a hotblood and a coldblood. Probably not fun for short people, I know I never was very fond of riding draft horses given that back when I was riding I was able to ride fairly large ponies with how underweight I was. Condolences to all the Asura who do WvW. 8/10 if you are of reasonable height, 5/10 if not.

Roller Beetle

A mixed bag. On one hand this would clearly be quite smooth since the saddle is levitating and therefore it'd be another frictionless ride. On the other hand the current estimation for top beetle speed is around 137 mph. That is a lot. I'm also not sure how you'd give guidance to the beetle without reins, my current guess is you'd lean into the saddle like you do a motorbike and somehow the little parts that make the saddle float cause the roller beetle to feel a shift in sensation on its carapace so it knows to turn in a direction. That's sort of what it looks like in the animations. I really hope there is some kind of gravitational field on that saddle or if you hit any kind of obstacle you are going to launch yourself out of the saddle and die, so given that doesn't happen I assume there has to be. 6/10, about as dangerous as the griffon but not as much fun to pet (that said, they are still extremely cute.)

Skyscale

Man, I need to log on to check again but from what I remember that hover animation looks like it'd be uncomfortable for the rider with the way the skyscale's back is curved. I don’t have a skyscale, don’t look at me, the quest is a pain in the ass. Anyways, same issue as the griffon with more flapping. The speed boost being another aileron roll would realistically be a bad idea in the air but you make it work between g-forces and probably at that point having an insane amount of riding practice by the point you get one.

In summary: 2/10. All of you who let your commander sit on their Skyscale in midair while camping events are monsters. I have sympathy pains in my calves whenever I see that.

Siege Turtle

I don't have much to say. The luxury touring bike of mounts. Comfortable seats and you can shoot things (note: you cannot shoot things on a motorcycle without a great deal of effort and probably breaking the law depending on where you live), though the jump jets and stomps might cause some jarring. I feel like being that close to cannons might necessitate earplugs but otherwise 10/10. Somewhat confused about the fact that when it sinks to the water you don't start floating out, so I guess there's invisible seatbelts, but that still makes it more comfortable than a skimmer underwater.

tl;dr

The commander probably has calves of steel from riding around all the time though I guess some saddles could have like, magical stabilizers that help, I know a few saddles use stabilizers as an ingredient when you're doing the collections to get them, also this is what I think about at two in the morning.

[kmmenvs3000f24]

Describe your current relationship with nature. How has this developed/evolved? Who offered you “a sense of place,” as described in our textbook?

These days I find myself closely intertwined with nature, even on days when the sun is beating down or tucked away behind rain clouds. Working outside 8 months of the year I would say my relationship with nature is committed. Like any relationship there are highs; a calm fall day paddle with perfect clarity of underwater vegetation or a full spring chorus symphony - but also lows; days filled with hundreds of biting insects or finding large patches of invasive species.

My comfortableness and confidence in nature and in nature interpretation by extension has not been overnight nor has it been life long. My beginnings in nature were limited to outdoor play and wildlife was seen solely at the zoo. My original plan for my time at Guelph was a major in pharmaceutical chemistry, until I spent the two summers after high school travelling the Bahamas and then working in a provincial park. Swimming with fish, exploring new ecosystems, canoeing in Ontarios lakes after work, moths and sunset swims at the beach changed my whole perspective.

Images: The first instances of a sense of place for me in nature. Both images taken by my friend (would like to remain anonymous).

Despite switching into biological science and then wbc to fill this newfound quest for nature I found myself out of place, in a residence cluster centred around the major I no longer had classes in. I joined the wildlife club first semester and off to Point Pelee for fall migration I went. We carpooled and before we even set off for that 3 hour drive I was quickly overwhelmed with everyone’s equipment and knowledge. They were packing $1000 scopes with arm length cameras and IDing raptors from the car, once we arrived bunks were assigned and groups split off depending on interests. I had only seen common moths lurking around the gatehouse the previous summer and picking between herp searching on the beach or a sunset boardwalk birding expedition felt so crazy.

Image: Point Pelee National Park on Black Willow Beach. The September sunset is visible along with a migration of flying insects slowly making their way down the point. Thousands of insects buzzed by minutes later. Image taken by myself on September 15th 2018.

The trip was scary for me, not knowing anyone and feeling so unprepared when it came to species and bird checklists etc. but it gave me a sense of self in nature. Everyone was so welcoming, I got a pair of spare binoculars from someone who noticed I didn’t have any, any questions I had someone could answer, an experienced herper passed over a melanistic garter snake and took my photo, and everyone even laughed at my joke about how anything in nature could be eaten once. While I still don’t feel fully confident in my bird checklist knowledge I remember that trip so vividly because of the connection I made to nature. I went back to my summer job at the park the following years and then to one in conservation where I made it my mission to learn my species and get out into new ecosystems.

Now in a role where I can teach others about species and ecology of the environments I am still constantly learning and gaining perspective. Broadening my experience beyond wetlands and volunteering for avian programs was a new challenge for me in 2024. Building my network of likeminded individuals gives my sense of self a deeper root.

Images: My relationship with nature today in 2024. Work, personal, and volunteer I am committed to nature.

[multific]

Trainers

Owen Grady x Reader

Summary: You are the trainer of the Mosasaurus, you have been working with her since she was a tiny little thing. So, you don’t appreciate when another trainer is asked to check on the work you have been doing.

 You understood that Claire wanted results. But they never understood that a creature such as a dinosaur is not as easy to train as a dog. Nevertheless, when the owner of the park specifically asked for you to be the caretaker of the Mosasaurus, you just knew you had to accept. Being a well respected Marine Biologist in your field, you loved the different challenge this would bring. Although you had to do a lot of studying. You would normally focus on a lot of species, so only having to deal with one animal was quite different. 

When you first saw her, you knew, you understood just how special she really was and you fell in love with the tiny being. Well, back then she was the size of an alligator, but then she grew into her normal size. She got huge. Even her tank spoke to itself.

Momo was chosen to do one of trick for the public. To eat a shark from a hook, splashing water onto the crowd. You knew she wasn’t a circus animal. You understood that, but since you two spent so much time together, a bond formed between you two. And you were more than surprised when she listened to you. 

One late night you were sitting by her tank, looking at her as she swam around. This was all she knew, the water, the hook and you. You often went to the Underwater Observatory where you can look into her tank through the glass. You spoke to her days on end as you just sat there after you finished with your work for the day. 

And one day, it happened.

Just like a dolphin show, you were talking and motioning around and when you moved your hand up as an expression, she jumped out of the water. The very first instant this happened, you didn’t pay much mind to it, thinking it was a coincidence. But then she did it again and again. Just as you lifted your hand up each time.

Progress.

Of course, you were to report every incident, but you chose not to tell them about this new revelation. You were afraid they will exploit her for money even more.

So, as you never reported any progress, Claire decided to send another trainer in.

Owen Grady.

He was supposed to look at your work for a month. You hated being supervised like that.

“Mr. Grady, nice to meet you, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Momo’s caretaker.”

“Please just call me Owen. To be honest I’m as happy to be here as you are. I’d rather be with my girls, so please just give me a quick run through, so I can leave.” 

“Okay...But, Owen. Claire said that you are to watch me for a month.”

“A MONTH? She didn’t mention that to me. Or I wasn’t listening. Probably the latter.” he made you laugh a little. Maybe it was better that he was the one who was sent and not some uptight ass. 

“Alright. So, it’s hard to miss her tank, or her. She eats a lot. There are public feedings, every two hour she gets a shark. I have been with her since she was born. Little thing she was. She is very stubborn, but I did hand feed her in her early years. She gave me a lovely scar too. From my wrist to my pinky on my left hand.” you showed him the scar. “Silly mistake. But I learned from it.”

“Do you talk to her?”

“I do. Steve thinks I’m mental, since she is under water, she wouldn’t hear. But I like to think that she somehow feels that I talk to her you know?”

He nodded and looked around, then up. He noticed a long walking platform way up high. 

“What’s that?” you looked up where he was looking.

“That is the new idea. Guests would be able to go up there and watch her from there. But they are not sure if she can jump that high, so it’s still not very safe. Although I told them that she wouldn’t be able to, they want to be safe. We can go up if you want to.”

You hated being up there, your fear of heights didn’t help you either. 

“You okay there?” Owen asked as he watched you taking deep breaths and your hands gripping the railing.

“No. I hate it up here.”

“Then why did you suggest to come up?” he laughed.

“I don’t know. It was silly. Can you see her?”

“Yes. She is...swimming. Shockingly. She is 84 feet long and she weights over 30,000 lbs, when the last time we checked. She is rather calm. Prefers to swim around and eats when she is supposed to. She is not socialized with other dinos, considering that the majority would drown in her enclosure. Can we go down now, please?”

Owen stood there, looking at the huge water monster swimming right below him. Then he looked up at you, and gave you a nod.

***

Owen has been working with you for the last week. He gave many ideas on what to do and how to earn their trust.

You also didn’t fail to notice how muscular and handsome he was. 

Each morning he arrived on his bike, looking sexy as can be. And every day he observed you. He watched as you said hi to her every morning, said how you liked to make sure her food was correctly prepared. It was obvious for him that you cared about the Mosasaurus very much. 

Owen wasn’t sure what else they wanted from the dino himself, He knew they created her as an amusement for viewers as a feeding show and nothing more. So, then why did Claire wanted him to come here and watch over you. As far as he was concerned, this particular dino wasn’t even the need of a caretaker. She just swam around and ate sharks as an attraction. He suspected there was something more behind the story he had been told. 

Owen admittedly loved the Underwater Observatory. It was cool down there, not only the weather, but they you can look into the enclosure and watch the majestic beast.

He also took a liking to it’s trainer. Even if he wasn’t sure what you were training the dino to do.

“How about tomorrow you come over to the raptors? I can show them off for you like you did with Momo.” Owen came up with the idea on his second week during lunch time.

“Oh, sure. I would like to.” Little did he know that you showed the very least to him.

During his two weeks, Owen and you formed some kind of friendship. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t like him, even if you knew about the rumors about his dating methods. But he never once hinted on anything with you. Or you just didn’t notice. Which was also a possibility, you were quite oblivious with men.

So, the next day after making sure that Momo was all set and healthy, we headed to the raptors. 

Although I wasn’t that interested in land species, his four girls amazed you. 

“Wow. they listen to you so well.” you said smiling at him as you watched the four inside the paddock. 

Owen looked very proud of himself. 

You spent all day at the velociraptor paddock. Owen told you about the plans that they had. And it was exactly what you feared would happen to your girl.

Exploiting them for military or personal gain. 

The thought disgusted you.

These were amazing creatures. In your opinion you should be learning from them, and not using them for war.

In the evening, everyone has left, you and Owen were still at the raptors’ paddock. You looked down at them running around.

“I don’t want Momo to have the same fate. Military? Really? That’s what we are doing now? These creatures are amazing, beautiful. Even the fact that we keep them on display is rather disgusting let alone using them as weapons.”

“I agree with you. But I can also see how they would be able to save many lives. Men and women.”

“But they will never be able to control them like that. Not by their own free will. It takes time. You have known them since they were little. Momo is... she is basically an attraction to them, nothing more. They wanted me to each her tricks. Like she was a fucking pony. Jumping through loops and whatnot. And when I refused, they threatened to throw me out. So, I had to come up with something. Telling them that she is not able to do such things. Even if it’s a lie.” you eyes widened at what you just said. You just confessed your greatest secret. 

“What do you mean lie? So, she can jump?” you panicked a little but his calm demeanor helped you a little.

“S-She can. Not as high as those railings go but...She can. Oh, Owen, please don’t tell Claire. They will make her into a complete circus animal, more than she already is.” you didn’t even realize but you were so desperate that you grabbed his forearm, pleading with him.

“I won’t. I promise. I decided on my second day over there that I will tell her that you are taking a good care of her and that a Mosasaurus is not a dolphin you can teach tricks to. But I’m clearly wrong. Could you show me?”

You were soon standing by her tank. Owen looked down at the water.

“I never understood. If she can get the shark from there, why doesn’t she jump out to get the guests?”

“Well, one, they are too small, so she is not interested and two, her species main food source comes from the water or from above such as flying dinosaurs. But as you can see her water is lower than the path, they made this safe so she wouldn’t jump out and eat guests.”

“I see. So how does this work? I don’t guess that you whistle to her.” Owen said as he stood next to you.

“No. I just...” it was easier to show him, so you reached your hand out as far as you could before moving it up.

And just as you did, she jumped out of the water and back in, as elegantly as a dino of her size possibly could. 

“Wow.” Owen watched as the water splashed neither of you cared that you were soaked.

“One night. I was talking to her. And as I moved my hand, she started doing things. She can also spin, but that looked better down under the water.”

“She listens to you.”

“I like to think that if I was to fall into the water one day, she won’t eat me immediately, but I might be too naïve.” Owen looked at you and all he could think is how beautiful you looked.

“This really is something else. You must have an amazing bond.” you smiled at Owen who got your now soaked wet hair out of your face. He slowly leaned down and was about to place his lips on yours when another sudden splash of water interrupted him. He groaned and as he looked down at the water noticed Momo slowly descending into the water. 

You only laughed at the annoyed expression on Owen’s face.

“Maybe take me on a date first, Mr. Grady, I think then she will approve.” you said as he finally looked back at you.

His eyes softened.

Maybe you will thank Claire later for sending Owen over. Who could have thought that two trainers would find each other on an island like that? 

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[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 18 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 17 here. Part 19 here.

Summary: You're concussed. You didn't really think anyone would care.

Words: 4100

Warnings: Handmaid AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hello! I did the thing again where I was like, oh, this chapter is not gonna have ANY smut in it. And then I wrote it and, y'know, Kylo Ren just... does things to me, y'all.

Does this count as fluff? It can get fluffier, I know, but like. For the universe, and all that.

Thank you so much for your feedback and encouragement! I love y'all so very much! See you soon. <3

The Audi screeched as it rolled into Kylo Ren’s driveway. The rim was almost certainly scrap by now, the way he’d ripped through the roads. You’d spent the entire ride coiled to the door frame--despite the reality of your destination, it was a relief for the car to finally cease moving. He engaged the emergency brake, turned the keys.

“Out.” 

Ren exited the vehicle, and you followed, stumbling onto the concrete. You still felt dizzy from colliding with the dashboard. As you thought it, a brief reverie--the car, the light, Poe’s head--pop--your vision fizzed, and you crumpled against the car, temples pounding. Pain split your skull, and you groaned, kneading your forehead, trying to ease the shrieking in your ears. For the four-hundredth time since you’d left the Resistance house, you were nauseous.

Except this time, you vomited, heaving nothing but stomach acid onto the window of Ren’s car. 

“Hm.” His presence was murky, like mud in your mind. “You hit your head in the crash.”

You wanted to respond, but couldn’t, mouth somehow made of marbles. Instead, you tried to move, but fumbled--mid-fall, you flailed and grabbed the side mirror for stability. Despite this, your limbs were like rubber, bowing, sending you straight toward the ground. A large, strong hand hooked under your arm, hoisting you to your feet, where you wobbled, unsteady.

“You have a concussion.” He guided you forward, and you retched, trying to push him off. “Come inside.”

“Just… hold on a second.” You weren’t ready to move so fast. The world felt like it was underwater. 

Ren urged you along another step, and you winced, collapsing into him and rolling toward the ground again. In one swift movement, he slipped one arm behind your knees, the other supporting your shoulders. Your head spun--you were in far too much pain to acknowledge the gesture, sight still too blurry to even fully comprehend what was happening. His face, to your muddled memory, was stoic--if there had been emotion behind his decision to carry you, it didn’t show. He regarded you with all of the affection that one might regard a paper bag.

Clutching you to his chest, he opened the doors to his home, his heels loud clacks on the hardwood floor. The halls remained dark as he passed through, a fact you were entirely okay with, as you were certain the introduction of any light would slice your head open with its edge. You allowed your eyes to close, your body rocking with his movement, mind attempting to map your location in the house under the strain. One hard step, another--he’d begun to ascend the stairs, but your map must have been in error. They were the stairs to his bedroom hallway, not yours. 

“Sir, is that you?” Johana’s voice, sharp with worry, pierced your ears. The noise of footsteps. “Where have you--oh.” 

There was a pause. Ren stopped. You dangled in his arms. 

“What are…” She paused, and then tried again, softer. “What’s going on?”

“I’m retrieving my property.”

A creak of hardwood. “You… Why is she… You’re bringing her upstairs, Sir?”

Silent, he started to climb again, the movement making you groan. 

“Wait, please--”

“Move.”

“Can you just explain what--”

“No,” he replied. “Move.”

There was a lull of silence--you had a desire to peep open a lid, glimpse Johana’s face, construct a visual memory of the tension weighing between them. Even through the air, you could feel the anxiety whipping like a corona off her skin, could sense her restraint, a straitjacket shackling her to obsequiousness. 

“You shouldn’t have brought her here, Sir,” she said. “The Eyes could have her slated for re-education.”

“There’s been no order for that.” 

“No order?” she whispered. “Did you… Did you abandon your duty to go after a Handmaid?” 

“That’s irrelevant.” He went to step again, and stalled in response to a wooden creak.

“We should at least dress her in--”

“Johana.” His voice was a cleaver. “Move.”

 “You can’t bring her into our bedroom,” she spat, trembling tone hiding a plea. “I don’t care about the Eyes, or if you left, or any of that. Just. Please. Not. Where we sleep.”

Silence again--and then: “She has a concussion.”

A long, slow breath. A sigh. “Fine.”

Finally, you heard a shift, and he pushed past the last few steps and through the hall. Johana, with feather feet, followed. Ren shouldered open a door--to his bedroom, you gathered--the low glow in the room like a blinding flash to your hidden eyes. You grumbled again, squirming in his grip, and after a short walk, he laid you on the bed. The moment your head connected with the pillow, you seethed, rolling over, shielding your face from intruding light.

“How do you know she had a concussion?” 

Ren was crossing, unhooking something. You heard a clatter across the room.

“Why do you have your gun--”

“She was in a car accident,” he said. “She can’t stand.”

“Sir,” Johana sighed, “are you going to at least tell me what happened so I know what to say if the Eyes--”

“It’s none of your concern.” He bit the words off between his teeth. “I will take care of it.”

She grumbled--you felt fingers at your shoulder, rolling you to your back. You whined, burying your head in your hands, but Johana wrenched them down with experienced grace, tacking them to your sides. At the sight of your face, she gasped.

“Is that blood?” When Ren was silent, she said again, “Is that blood on her face?” She released you, and you peeled your lids open, squinting even from the dim yellow ambiance. Johana had spun on Ren, who stood, a gargoyle of indifference. “What the hell did you do?”

“Quiet.” 

“I swear to Christ, if she is pregnant--”

“Enough.”

“--and if you ruined my chances of being a mother, Kylo, I--”

“Johana,” he hissed. “Remember your place.”

She stalled, stepping back, her blue nightgown a plume around her legs. “Yes, sir, Commander.” Scowling, she stomped back over to you, meeting your eyes with a flash of rage. “Sit up.”

Nodding, you pushed up on your palms, wincing as your head throbbed. Nausea washed over you again. The bed swirled under your frame--you sucked in a deep breath through your nostrils, quelling the tsunami of vomit that wanted to burble up and spew all over your Commander’s Wife. Thankfully, once your back was against the pillow, you were able to fully open your lids. Johana’s thumb was on your wrist, checking your pulse, face screwed in concentration. In the corner of the room, Ren was seated, shoulders flared like the wings of a raptor, a gaze just as keen.

Glancing at your eyes, she turned to the nightstand, rummaging through it. “Where’s the flashlight?” she asked. And, after a moment, “Nevermind. Found it.”

She clicked it on, two fingers prying open your lids as she shined the flash directly into your pupils. You whinged, seething, trying to shove her off, but she snatched your wrists and strapped them down with her strength, flicking the light back and forth from your eyes, scrutinizing your response. After a moment, the pain simmered, washed away. 

“Her pupils are normal.” Johana turned the flashlight off, returning it to the nightstand before staring back at you. “What nation do we live in?”

“The… Republic of Gilead?” you replied, raising a brow.

“And what year is it?”

“Nineteen… eighty-five…”

“What role do you serve in this home?” Her tone grew more severe.

You blinked, scanning her, wanting to inch away. “I’m… I’m a Handmaid.”

“And what is your name?”

A shiver crawled up your spine as you remembered the rasp of Kylo Ren’s voice in your ear, the tears at your neck, the weight of his body and the thick stretch of his cock, slamming into you, demanding your submission. Your gaze flickered to his. The depth of it--like a pit that threatened to swallow you--gnawed at your stomach.

“Ofkylo,” you murmured, and met her eyes again.

Johana studied you, a slow breath escaping her, before she turned to Ren, voice flat. “She’s oriented. No dilation.” A slight shrug as she glanced at you from over her shoulder. “She should be fine.” 

Ren shifted, head tilting. “She could still vomit in her sleep. She couldn’t walk.”

She sighed again. “What are you asking me, Sir?”

“She shouldn’t fall asleep.”

Johana threw her hands up, crossing to her dresser. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, she’s fine,” she mumbled. “I was a nurse, not a doctor.”

The admission made your stomach flip. A nurse.

Ren stood, long strides bringing him to the side of the bed. Warmth and terror eked through you in equal measure, body tingling for his touch, brain shriveling at the thought of it. His eyes lingered on your figure, appraising it, before traveling to meet your own. Within his irises, there was a fog--a nameless, formless ache, suffocating in the depth of his denial. You could see it, feel it as it coasted across your skin, scattering like shadow as he stared--and you hated it, hated the flutter it brought to your heart, hated the fire it stoked in your veins. It was that asinine desire to know, even as you had already decided that your knowledge of him was complete. 

In secret, a single finger drew a soft line down your calf, and you shuddered. “She will stay here tonight.”

Balking, Johana whirled to face her husband. “What--” She cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me, Sir?”

It was a surprise to you, too--you stared at him, brow furrowed, but his expression was inscrutable, like he’d put on a mask.

“She could choke. Fall into a coma. She requires observation.”

“I’ve already told you that I think she’s fine.”

You nodded, sitting up. Anything to get you out of pissing off Johana. “I actually feel totally fine--”

Ren held up a finger, silencing you, his attention still on his Wife. “You don’t know that to be true.”

Her jaw stiffened. She crossed her arms. “You’re not putting out your Wife so you can watch over a Handmaid,” she said. “That’s… the impropriety--”

“At what point did I order you to leave?” 

She blinked, jaw dropping. A choked laugh broke from her throat, her head shaking. “You… You expect me to share our bed with a Handmaid?” she asked. “Have you--I mean…” She drew in a steadying breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sir.”

You nodded, swinging your feet toward the floor, ignoring the rush of pain when you moved. “You know, I don’t really want to stay here, either--”

Ren caught your legs as you tried to kick them off the bed, suspending them in air. “No.” He tossed you back as if you were made of cotton, looked to Johana. “You may sleep here or in any of the other bedrooms in this home. It’s immaterial to me.”

Johana stood, staring, her mouth parted, hand falling over her heart. You could almost see it--the silent disintegration of her reality, like a building crumbling in on its own framework, shattered pieces pulverized into rings of dust. Her eyes glossed, cheeks reddened, and she cleared her throat again, swallowing. A sickened smile flashed over her face; she blinked it away.

“If that’s how you feel, Sir, then please, feel free to share our bed with your little whore. You know where to find me, if you need me.” She threw open the closet, grabbing a robe and tugging it on. “But I know you won’t.” With a flourish, she left, slamming the door behind her.

Guilt sank like venom into your bones, twisted your intestines. You glared at Ren. “You’re cruel.”

He cocked a brow, unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt. “She should be concerned with your survival, given the possibility of pregnancy.” He glanced at your face and paused. After a moment, he turned, heading into the bathroom.

“She loves you, you know,” you called after him. 

No response. You sighed, sinking onto the bed, head plopping back onto the pillow, gazing into the gauzy lavender canopy, tracing its network of soft wrinkles with your eyes. It was true that your head felt like a cantaloupe that someone had smashed with a mallet, and it was also true that the thought of walking currently made bile bubble in your esophagus--but despite all of this, the thought of staying in Kylo Ren’s room with him all night made your chest tight. 

The memory of Poe’s head bursting with cherry blood was a circular film in your mind, reeling on repeat, as if someone was rewinding the tape and pressing play over and over and over. The fact that Ren had murdered him without a breath brought a chill to your toes, to your stomach. The fact that even after that, you’d begged in unfortunate honesty for his cock froze you entirely. Poe’s new adage--There are no saints in Gilead--did little to assuage your shame. Just because sainthood was unachievable didn’t mean you were supposed to drown in sin. 

Who could be considered more reprehensible--the devil? Or the one who had witnessed him shed his humanity, spring forward as a full-formed monstrosity--and still chose to kneel at his feet? At least one was by nature. You weren’t sure what your problem was.

Ren entered the room again, a white towel draped over his hand. You eyed him with suspicion as he approached--Was this all a plan to kill you?--but before you could sputter a protest, he sat at the side of the bed and wedged his hand under your head, cradling it with ease. 

Silent, he guided the warm, damp cloth over your face, tracing it across your forehead, gentle along your hairline. You felt the crust of blood and sweat on your skin drifting clean, the heat of the towel soothing the thumping of your temples. Air failed to enter your lungs, a tremor of something only identifiable as affection tunnelling through you. In his gaze, you saw no evidence of the man who had pinned you to the pavement, pistol to your chin--he was open, a wound without a bandage. 

“I don’t understand why you killed him,” you said, the words leaving before you’d had a chance to think them.

Ren blinked, soft, dark lashes shielding his eyes. “I don’t understand why you left.” The towel caressed your jaw, his long fingers tilting your head as if you were made of porcelain. 

You snuffed a laugh. “Are you… serious?”

For the first time in minutes, he leveled you with his stare. “Yes.”

“How… do you not understand?” you said. “This is hell. You’ve created hell for me.” You bit your lip, choosing your words carefully. “You’ve created hell for all of us.”

He considered you, motionless. “You’re not happy here.”

Snorting, you wondered how many times you’d have to say it for him to actually listen. “Commander--are you?”

Ren paused, holding the towel to your cheek, his gaze fixated on yours. Those full, pink lips twitched with something nameless, the mellow lights casting a mahogany shimmer over the dark waves of his hair. You laid there, locked with him, trading a feeling too dangerous to articulate in the absence of your breathing. Heat dripped into your face--too much heat for the towel to be responsible. He focused on your mouth, rubbed it clean, and offered another blink, almost meandering in its speed.

“Smuggling a Handmaid is punishable by death,” he said. “For Guardians, public execution.” He scrubbed at your chin, swooping along the perimeter of your face.

You grimaced. “So you killed him out of the kindness of your heart?”

“No.” The towel glided under your eyes. “I killed him because he took you.” He dabbed at your neck, your pulse a drum underneath his fingertips. “But his death was inevitable--by me or otherwise.” Leaning back, he examined you, seeking out any other stains. Apparently satisfied, he lowered your head to the mattress and stood, returning to the bathroom.

You sighed, embers crackling in the ash of your flesh. You’d asked to understand--and now you had. For some reason, it didn’t make you feel any less guilty. In fact, it only made you feel worse as you imagined Finn and Rey finding out the mission had gone haywire, that Poe had met his inevitability. All because of you. All your fault. More tears welled, and you shook them away. You were tired of crying. 

After a moment, Ren exited the bathroom carrying clothing. His shirt was untucked, a pair of black drawstring trousers hanging at his waist. Your eyes stuck to him like flypaper, gawking while he crossed the room, his fingers popping open his shirt buttons, revealing inch by inch his thick, powerful torso. A wad of saliva lodged in your throat, breath stuck behind it. He tossed his clothes in a wicker basket, shucking his shirt into it, muscles in his back rippling as he rolled his shoulders. You devoured him, a wolf starved for his vulnerability. 

He turned, approaching you in silence--it was impossible not to notice every movement of his body, how it tensed with his footsteps, how the veins in his hands rooted in his arms, how the breadth of his chest appeared so, so deliciously solid. The light almost disguised the white scars spread across his skin, phantoms of the revolution still haunting his flesh. A wave of fire crashed over you at the realization. He was dangerous--a weapon of a man. And he had just tenderly cleaned your face.

You finally remembered to breathe and swallow when he hovered over you. Was he going to try and fuck you in the throes of a concussion?

“Uh, excuse me, sir.” You tried in vain to tear yourself from his beauty.

“Sit up.” 

Despite his order, his hands were at your back and shoulder, pulling you forward. Ren turned you, sliding in behind you, his legs framing yours, your back flush to his chest. He curled an arm around your waist, tugging you tight to his body, his heat enveloping you. In silence, he gathered your hair, folded it over your shoulder, smoothing the strays over your scalp. Having finished that, he lifted the Bible from his nightstand and flipped it open, his head nestling next to yours as he began to read. You fought for breath, mind whirling from either the concussion or from stupor. How was this the same man who, only hours ago, had his gun shoved in your cunt?

You wanted to feel disgust, horror--you were his possession, after all. But his touch was too gentle to signify ownership. It was the touch of a human, a touch you’d only known men to give to women they cherished--a touch you hadn’t known in years.

“What… are you doing, Commander?” It was the only question that could crawl its way out. 

“Observing you.” Velvet rolled from his mouth to your ear. “Until you can walk, it’s not safe for you to sleep.”

“But Johana…”

“Johana would risk your safety to spite me,” he said. “I want you alive.”

You almost laughed. “Is that why you shot into the car that you knew I was in?”

A pause, and his chest fell in a sigh. “You were never my target.” 

“You could’ve missed, Commander.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “And I don’t.” The darkness in his tone sent ice through your spine. Another pause. “Use my name.”

You blushed, choking on your own spit. “I’m sorry?”

“When we’re alone,” he murmured. “Use my name.”

The motive of his observation clarified in your mind. Ren had wanted Johana, and you, and his own self to believe his intentions were practical. So far, he’d managed to fool only himself--and maybe not even then. He dipped his face to the slope of your neck, drawing in a long, deep breath through his nostrils. Goosebumps swelled across you--in an automatic reaction, you melted against him, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Kylo…”

“Yes, little bird?” he whispered over your skin.

You sighed. “I hate you…”

He nuzzled his nose along your pulse. “You hate me?” he asked. “You are me.”

“What?” You frowned.

“You want to resist…” A hand rested on your hip, bunching fabric as it curled to a fist. “There’s something here that makes us both betray what we believe in.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, “because what I believe is right, and what you believe is wrong.”

“Inconsequential.” His lips skated your heartbeat, and you caught a sigh in your chest. “When we both believe we’re right.”

You squirmed, feeling his growing desire at your backside. A pang of lust knocked between your legs, and you gripped his thighs, feeling them harden under your palms. “I know I’m right.”

“Of course.” He tossed the Bible to the side, mouth pressing soft, lingering kisses to your exposed throat. “And I know you’re getting wet for me, right now.”

A shudder rattled you, and you chewed a whine before it escaped. “Kylo…”

Kylo Ren growled, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and slipping his hand into the open flap. You whimpered, your head throbbing with the surge of delight hitting your nerves--he shushed you, his thick fingers gliding across your mound. 

“I want to make you cum again,” he purred, kissing your jaw. “I want to hear you say my name as you clench around my fingers.”

Longing roared inside of you, searing your insides. “My head hurts,” you replied, even while your cunt pulsed with need.

“I’ll be gentle, little bird.” His other hand threaded through your hair, nudging your face toward his, and he captured your lips in a hot, tender kiss. “Now be good for me.”

Ren slid a digit across your already stiff clit, his chest rolling with excited breath as he teased it with a quick swirl. You gasped, legs spreading wider, your nails biting his thighs, and he huffed, tracing quick, tight circles around it, the pad of his finger supplying shocks of friction. Pleasure flooded you, muscles collapsing as you succumbed to it--Ren kissed you again, holding you there, tongue delving into your mouth while he rubbed your swollen nub faster. Two more fingers coated themselves in your slick and pushed inside you.

You moaned into him, and he jerked you harder to his body, tongue massaging yours while his plush lips worked over your mouth. His hand continued to cup your head as he kissed you, as if to meld you with his frame, as if to brand you in his memory, and his fingers pumped into you, one digit flicking and circling your clit. Air was passed in hot gusts between your nostrils, your bodies grinding together in a futile attempt to fuse. He was deft--your climax approaching fast, his hands pulling it from you faster than they had your dignity.

“That’s it, little bird,” he groaned against you. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

Nodding, you fussed, trying to meet his lips again, missing the heavy comfort of his kiss. Your walls clenched his fingers, the beat of bliss thrumming to your head, every new thump of your heart cracking your skull. A sob of pain was silenced by another peak of pleasure over your flesh, your pussy squeezing him faster, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his digits plunging into you, his finger battering your nub.

“Let me hear you.”

“Kylo,” you breathed, gripping his thighs as if they’d anchor you to sanity, “oh, fuck, Kylo…”

“That’s right,” he muttered, “that’s right…”

You splintered, ecstasy burning through you, and as you came, Ren’s lips crashed into yours, swallowing your desperate wails of pleasure, his body solid while your limbs twitched. He was a rock, a sanctuary where you could come undone, finger rubbing until you squealed with discomfort, continuing to kiss you, softer, gentler, until the last tatters of your climax dissipated from your skin.

Wilting into him, your lids fluttered shut, lungs heaving while your heart searched for its rhythm. Ren kissed you again, then pulled his hand from your cunt and popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean with a quiet moan. Once finished, he zipped up your jeans, re-buttoned them, and propped you up, positioning you flat along his chest once more. His length still throbbed at your back--but if he noticed, he said nothing.��

You sighed, ignoring the echo of pain at the perimeter of your skull, waiting for the oxytocin to leave your blood. “I hate you, Kylo.”

He stroked your hair, flipping it over your shoulder for the second time. “I know.” He returned to his Bible, thumbing it open to 1 Corinthians, and you spied a verse circled in pretty black ink.

Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body. 

The rest of the night, he was silent, nudging you only when you would drift toward sleep, vigilant until the sun crested into the sky.

[border-spam]

Twins prompt 6: DeLeon

(Warning for this one, and huge thanks to @lazulizard​ for her amazing art on this one- full link at bottom of fic )

“Piece of shit, piece of shit, AHH-fuck!!”

Troy rips his hand out of under the pinching joint of his prosthetic where he’s been failing to try and disengage it for the last few minutes, then screams in frustration as he smashes the brutal weight of the arm across his workdesk in a wide sweep.

The satisfaction of destroying half of the projects he’s been working on this month in a couple of seconds doesn’t put a dent in how fucking exhausted he is.

He’s so tired, he’s just so tired, shoulders hunched above his bowed head as he leans his weight on the arm, feeling the now cracked surface of the table shift under him slightly with each panting breath.

Today had been painfully -rough-, and Tyreen hadn’t given him an inch, focusing her displeasure at the COV’s acquisition department’s failed hostile merger with that unexpectedly well armed fuel outpost on him, after husking half of the division of course.

He’d taken the brunt of her foul mood as usual, and the workload in fixing this fuckup he wasn’t even responsible for tomorrow was giving him a headache just trying to think of where he would need to get started, and he’s just so.. fucking.. tired.

He rubs harshly at his face as he turns and begins to stumble towards the mess of heaped blankets and pillows that was his bed, the arm would wait, he’d just leave it and try to sleep for now. If he didn’t try and get a couple of hours in he wouldn’t be able to function tomorrow enough to make a dent in this clusterfuck. He’s so tired.. it won’t matter. He’ll just pass out even with the dead weight of it digging into his shoulder, he knows from experience.

Soon as his shin hits the edge of the mattress he feels his eyes flutter closed, barely managing to lift his torso onto the bed and crawl into the center before his body gives out and he flops down onto his chest. His stupidly long prosthetic arm is bent at an awkward angle, the jagged elbow pointing towards the ceiling and wrist pinned uncomfortably under his hip, but he doesn’t have the energy to move the goddamn thing right now, and his breathing evens out within seconds of his face hitting the pillow.

Warm, encompassing, heavy sleep. The kind of sleep that feels like sinking underwater, like the soft pressure of your mother’s arms around your small body. The kind of sleep that makes it hard to wake up, and Troy struggles to push his mind out of the fog as he finds himself somewhere dark, and quiet, and wrong.

Nothing, all around him. Nothing, no sound, no light, and yet he can see his hands perfectly. No ground or walls or air, nothing, and the hairs on the back of his neck raise as some horrible realisation begins to dawn. Some memory he can’t grasp, slipping through his fingers like oil. Something bad happens when he’s here, but he can’t remember what.

He can’t.. move. He can move his legs but each step does nothing, there’s nothing to walk on, and his heart is starting to pick up pace, a lump in his throat getting hard to swallow. He doesn’t want to be here but he can’t remember why.

There’s.. there’s something behind him, he can feel it, but he can’t turn no matter how hard he whips around, he can’t see behind him. What is it.. what is it he can sense it he..

“Troy….”

His pulse spikes. He can feel his spine turn rigid, lungs filling to the point of pain as the fear forces a deep shuddering breath into them. He knows that voice. He knows that voice and now he remembers why he fucking hates this place. Why he doesn’t want to be here, not again. Not again, not again, not again, not him. Not that gaunt shape he catches in the corner of his eye in every fucking reflection he passes, not that lingering, mocking, pitying laugh he hears in the back of his brain every time the silence settles in after the adoration of his worshippers fades for the night. Not again, not this, not here, not him, not again.

“.. Just look at you Troy. So little of you left now. What have you done t-to me.”

Fucking… DeLeon..

He smells him before he can see him. Every whistling, panicked breath through his nose is filled with the scent of memories that turn his stomach.

Warm morning sunlight evaporating dew from fern leaves, the engine oil that always covered Dad’s pants, that fragrant Nekrotafeyan wood they’d burn each night at the campfire, Mom’s skin, dried blood under his fingernails, Ty’s breath when she would curl against his side to sleep in their tiny bed, fever sweat and vomit, and he can’t stop breathing it in, it’s all around him and he can’t stop remembering.

“You let her down again today, didn’t you. Guess that’s nothing to be surprised by anymore, is it b-big man? Ahaha.. It’s normal now, huh?”

His jaw is clamped so tight he can feel the implanted roots of his metal canines burning in his skull cavity with the pressure. DeLeon steps closer behind him.

“Wonder how that happened.. wonder how you went from b-being her best friend, her other half, her right hand… to well, whatever the hell you are now. A monster, m-maybe?”

His prosthetic violently shakes at his side with each shuddering breath and he feels a shooting, burning pain down his left arm as it does. DeLeon is in the edge of his vision now, the red glow of the markings around his eye the only colour in this fucking place.

“… A.. freak..?” DeLeon whispers in his right ear in that soft, stammering voice, mocking in his apologetic tone. Troy snaps.

He lashes out on reflex without turning. Arm striking raptor quick to his right, fingers instantly closing around that delicate neck, and he lifts.

He weighs -nothing-, Troy realises as DeLeon’s boots clear the ground and he chokes out a gasp against the machine’s grip. A jolt of pain burns through Troy’s abdomen and he tries to make sense of what’s happening, what he’s remembering.

His heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest and cold sweat drips down his back while DeLeon doesn’t even try to struggle, just watches him with those pathetic sad eyes and rests his hand gently on the steel of the monstrous arm’s plating, his red Siren markings a harsh contrast against the black metal. Troy’s eyes shift rapidly, trying to focus on anything but the patronising smile playing across the other’s lips.

Had he.. always been this light? Was it just that he didn’t have the arm yet.. or was this really how little he had weighed before.. before he started trying to change, before he became the God King. Was this how little muscle he’d carried when they landed on Pandora, when the bandits would laugh to his face about how broken he looked.

“SHUT UP” Troy barks, screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head violently to try and clear the intrusive memories tearing through his brain.

“Shut.. up. I’m not a freak. You were the freak, remember? Remember what Dad said? You were the joke, I’m Troy Calypso. I’m a God. What were you but a fucking FAILURE?”

He tightens his fist again and feels a pop, something in the frail man’s throat has just shifted but he doesn’t react, he doesn’t try to scratch at the fingers crushing his windpipe, just smiles down at him, calm and unphased.

“You can’t hurt me.. you know that, r-right?” DeLeon whispers through the vice grip on his throat, hand still relaxed against the arm’s panelling, expression still calm and eyes gentle as he stares down at the panting trembling mess holding him aloft.

“But I can hurt you. Over and over, and over.. every time you close your eyes.”

“B-because deep down you know what I was. I was happy.”

“…I was loved.”

A moment of silence passes, then the rage takes over. Troy roars, and DeLeon laughs.

He laughs as Troy releases his throat and lets him drop, he laughs as that viper quick prosthetic catches his forearm and yanks him to his feet before he fully fell to the ground, he laughs as Troys flesh fist smashes into his face and knocks him onto his back, lip splitting and cheekbone shattering under the impact.

He laughs as the the vicious grip on his arm pulls him forward, the only thing holding him upright as Troy spits into his eyes and slams a boot into DeLeon’s chest, shoulder beginning to strain under the power of the mechanical limb pulling it forward while his torso is pinned back.

He laughs at the God beating him to death and Troy has never hated anything as much as he hates this frail excuse for a man in his grasp. He hates that this man is underweight, he hates that he is weak, that he is flesh and smooth skin and gentle soulful eyes, that he is that scruffy fucking jacket his father gave him, that he is delicate bruised cheekbones and struggling lungs. He hates that this man is regret and spite and the lingering reminder of what it was like to be cared for out of choice and not fear.

All Troy can see is red, the red of DeLeon’s pointless, broken Siren Markings, the red that his eyes now glow, the red that spits over his lips as he laughs and laughs.

“STOP. FUCKING. LAUGHING” he hisses between clenched teeth, feeling his grip on the arm tighten harder, harder than he should, hard enough to feel muscle shift slightly from bone, but he can’t let go. Not while he’s being mocked like this, by him.

DeLeon doesn’t stop that gentle laugh, pity and condescension dripping from it, soft eyes still locked with Troy’s, and he doesn’t even flinch as Troy’s hate takes control, as the pressure of the metal fist’s grip increases and pushes the thumb through his forearm’s skin and into the meat underneath. As Troy presses his boot harder into his sternum and starts to pull.

“STOP - LAUGHING - AT - ME”

Troy screams, yanking his arm back further with each pause as he leans down hard on the creaking ribs under his boot, another burst of pain across his left shoulder ignored as his hearing hyperfixates on the wet pops that preface the crack of the ruined elbow joint as it gives out under the strain, the fleshy tear as it separates from DeLeon’s upper arm, only releasing his grip when he feels the resistance against his foot lessen as the arm in his fist detaches fully.

He stumbles back a step, breathing heavily as he takes in the wreck of the man in front of him and swallows a wave of bile as he feels blood spatters trickle down his cheek.

DeLeon sits barely upright as his narrow chest heaves for air, blood smeared across his face and torn torso where the brutal prosthetics’s jagged edges had caught his skin.

The remains of his mangled arm lay pathetically in front of him, lifeblood pumping from torn arteries and pooling underneath him, and still.. he smiles. Still, he looks at Troy like Troy is nothing, like Troy is a stupid pathetic child throwing a tantrum, like he isn’t afraid, like he pities the shivering, sweating God he’s defeated while being torn apart.

He’d won. He always won, every time. He’d won before Troy even realised he was there, he’d won with nothing but razor barbed words, and he’d win again, and again, and again.

“All d-done then?” he wheezes, blood red eyes locked onto Troy’s icy blue.

“H-hah ha….. who’s the freak now?”

Troy can’t breath.

He can’t physically breath his chest is.. wrong.. it’s burning like it’s being stabbed and he -

- Wakes up screaming.

He kicks in complete panic at the blankets that have wrapped around his legs, gasps in shock and claws at the fingers of his mechanical right hand that are currently digging into the skin of his pectoral.

He scrambles to sit up against the backboard and forces himself to breath as slowly and deeply as he can, shaking uncontrollably as he tries to calm himself enough to regain control of his right arm and pry the sharp digits out of his chest.

There is blood everywhere, his torso, his shoulder, long open scratches across his stomach and ribs, tears down the Siren markings in his arm, and he winces between pants as he slowly manages to loosen the death grip his fingers have on his pec and ease them out of the punctures left underneath.

He did this to himself. It’s not the first time.. he should have removed the goddamn prosthetic, he should have not been such a lazy, good for nothing piece of shit and just..

He slowly raises his injured arm and drapes it across his eyes as he tenderly sinks onto his back again, tears starting to burn the open scratches along it.

“You always.. fucking win.”

Link to @lazulizard​‘s fuckin astounding art for this fic

[hornet-breaker]

SonariaCraft (2)

Again, warning for graphic content, strong language, and some gore (not major but it can still make people queasy) YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Tommy spent the next few days in caution, mainly because of the crazy bat, but he found out he could now become dehydrated. On the smp this was never really a thing, but after nearly getting barbecued by a bat dragon his throat had never felt more dry in his life. He went to get water and narrowly avoided becoming a giant crocodile’s afternoon snack. It seemed everything was out to kill him! He didn’t like it one bit!

He would constantly poke his head out of his hides hole, looking at the sky, then the surrounding area. He found out he could detect other creatures and would use that ability when fetching water. It has helped him to avoid the crocodile shark monster several times, and narrowly avoid getting pecked to death by some weird bird (he figured it was guarding a nest, and the damn thing was invisible! A bird can do that?!) His worst encounter yet happened today.

He had found out how to make tools without a crafting table and made himself a spear with a large tooth, probably from the crocodile, but it was serrated. Tommy ran through the brush, his hair messy and his focus on one thing, food. He had managed to eat scraps of raw meat, but it was raw meat, and he’d normally get chased away by the massive monstrous inhabitants of the world. He was lucky that there weren’t any parasites in the meats. Tommy found a field full of fruits, but also saw the wierd bat creature there, casually snacking on berries. If it ate plants why did it try to kill him? He saw a weird mushroom raptor hobble up to the bat and they exchanged a few growls and clicks. The mushroom creature hissed and the bat looked scared, immediately taking off and ignoring Tommy as it fled.

Tommy wanted to know what it was, so he approached it, picking a berry as he walked up to the creature. It looked at him and hissed, clicking it’s beak.

“Hey, hey, I don’t want to hurt you, look,” he held the berry out, “food, yummy?” He tried. The creature sniffed the berry, looked at him, then quickly snatched it out of his hand, scurrying away. This was the first time something wasn’t actively trying to kill him, maybe it could be a friend? He decided to start eating the fruits, they tasted bizarre yet wonderful, he never thought he’d be more happy eating a fruit than a burger! He kept eating, unaware something was approaching. The mushroom creature started squawking.

“Do you want another berry,” Tommy paused mid sentence, noticing the shadow and sudden strand of drool spattering on top of his head. “Friend?”

He turned around and looked up, his breath hitching in his throat. The little mushroom raptor hopped onto the back of the massive beast, it had no eyes, it’s teeth were similar to the one he used to make a spear, and it was primarily neon green with black stripes.

“Dream,” was the only thing that escaped his mouth as he ran.

The creature roared, causing him to stagger as it gave chase. Tommy sprinted as fast as he could, scurrying over and under logs. The creature was catching up, he was doomed if it caught him. Tommy screamed, hoping something would pay attention. He was cornered on a cliff, backing away from the stalking beast. It roared and lunged, jaws wide open ready to swallow him whole or tear him to shreds. Instead Tommy was falling, down towards the water. It roared with frustration as Tommy hit the water, thinking the croc would come and get him. Instead another creature did, something that was taller than the croc gently grabbed him in its mouth and took off out of the water.

“Great, if I’m not giant monster dog food I’m sea bird food,” he thought as he let it carry him away, unable to fight back unless he wanted it to bite harder.

~~~~~

Wilbur had heard a Hygos roar, every creature knew hygos were dangerous, so he dove underwater. He could even see the Kendyll he’d been squabbling with for weeks was hiding in the reefs. He was originally out on a hunt and mainly looking for the young Vaumora that disappeared from his flock a few days ago.

Jotunhels we’re normally not very social towards other creatures, but Wilbur was different. He could have killed the Vaumora, it was so weak and fragile, but it was a junevile, and it was starving. He originally only wanted to be in a flock with the Halaqual that could freeze a boreal warden solid and the Gramoss that protected it, just the three of them, but that Vaumora was too clingy, he would get bit in the wing if he tried to hurt it maliciously. Being in the water wouldn’t help the search but if it meant avoiding that hygos in particular he would choose life over getting his tail handed to him again.

He heard commotion and saw something small fall into the water. A Jeff? Those were extremely rare, not very good as food but it helped in a pinch. Wilbur was kind of hungry so he drifted closer to sniff it. It was foreign, an unknown subspecies of Jeff perhaps? He didn’t know, but the Halaqual might, even if they couldn’t talk. Wilbur gently grabbed the Jeff in his jaws, it was so difficult for him not to let his hunger take over and swallow it, Jeff’s were such an easy meal. But instead he paddled to the surface and breached the water, lifting off and flying back to the windswept cliff he called home.

(And just like that Wilbur has secured the child! We get to meet the sleepy bois in the next chapter!)

[tricksters-captain]

Jurassic World/Owen Grady imagines - Highly Toxic - Part 1

AN: So, I started this on Wattpad when Jurassic World first came out in 2015 but never published it and since the new Jurassic world will be coming out next year I decided that I would let the world see it but post it on here because Wattpad is kind of dead. 

Overall Summary: You’re a world famous journalist that heads to the park a year before the indominus incident and you meet Owen Grady. Will you end up staying at the park or leaving when you’re supposed to. 

In this chapter: You arrive at the park after your last visit ten years ago. 

Pairing(s): Owen x reader

Word count: 1,946

Warnings: None 

"Look Mom, I'll be fine, okay? It's perfectly safe." You held your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you tugged your luggage out of the cab.

"I don't know about this, (y/n), you know what happened at the last park!" Your mother warned you through the phone.

"Mom, I'm 24 years old, and I've been here before remember? Anyway I just arrived and I'm waiting for the boat, there's no going back now. The park has been open for ten years and there's been no major problems. Trust me please." You sighed in response, just at that moment your phone alerted you that there was barely any battery left.

"Just be careful!" She pleaded with a dry chuckle, full of concern.

"I will! Look, I'll text you when I get to the hotel because my phone is about to die."

"Okay! It's just I—"

"—don't like me being by myself, I know you've told me, but I'm here on business not leisure. Now I seriously have to go, I'll talk to you later." You interrupted her before your phone cut you both short by dying.

You groaned and slid your mobile back into your jeans pocket.

You boarded the boat with your light luggage, pushing your sunglasses up onto your head as you tried to spot the island.

It had been a while since you last went there, the park had been open since 2005, it has thrived and developed so well. The last time you came to the island was right before it opened, if you thought your mom was paranoid just then you should've seen her the time you went for just a day trip when the park first opened.

You were fourteen, an oncoming writer on a blog on the internet, you were in the world record book for years with the title the most subscribed blog. Everyone read your blog back then mainly because the world didn't realise it was a fourteen year old girl that ran it. Growing up, you were over-matured in mind and you graduated high school at the age of fifteen. You didn’t like to brag, it was just pure facts and then you graduated college age seventeen before landing yourself multiple jobs where you traveled for many years until you finally settled back down in your home town now only writing articles for popular magazines and the New York Times.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the island. You fanned yourself with the small leaflet that had all information and map of the park as the heat burned down on you. Black skinny jeans, combat boots and a white tank top weren't the best option for Central American weather. You took the hem of your tank and tied it so it lied just above your belly button.

"Miss (y/l/n)?" A tall red headed woman beamed a brilliant smile at you before she rushed forward and held out her hand towards you.

"Yes."You took her hand and shook it in greeting, her hands were small and sweaty obviously she had been waiting a while.

"Claire Dearing, it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure you're going to have a wonderful time here." Claire smiled, you wiped your hand on your thigh then gripped onto your satchel.

"How did you know I was going to be here?" You asked trying to speak over the crowds noise. 

"We were informed you were to check in today, under business I was told. You are the most popular journalist in the whole of America, one of the most popular in the world. When we first opened you were the cause of 90% of our visitors."

"I am aware. Now, I'm only here for a week so if you don't mind I'd like to get to my hotel. I'm here to write a piece on how the parks developed over the years but I need rest and food before anything." You said flatly, you weren’t purposely trying to be rude but lack of food and exhaustion made you this way.

"Oh okay, um...right this way." Claire showed you to a train on the monorail that lead you to the hotel. 

You smiled as the train approached the gates with 'jurassic world' printed on them. A small burst of butterflies in your gut reminded you of the excitement you felt ten years ago when you first arrived there.

Claire followed you all the way up to your room before stopping outside your door.

"Here is your VIP wristband, and here's my number please call me if you have any worries or concerns or need anything at all." She handed you a small package. You willingly took it, pulling out the small blue wristband.

"Thank you, now if you'll excuse me I have to unpack. It was a pleasure meeting you, Claire." You closed the door on her before she could say anything else.

Stumbling over to the mirror, you managed to fix your hair into a loose bun. Today was not a good day for you.

You pulled out your phone and charger before collapsing on the arm chair by the balcony, wiping your neck with a small hand towel. Fortunately, the air conditioning starts to circulate pretty quickly. You really didn’t do well with scorching heat so coming in the summer wasn't the best decision you made.

However, when you traveled the world you loved going to places like Australia and India etc. etc. but that was when you traveled, and you had been living in upstate New York for the last three years.

Nevertheless, you had a perfect view of the main resort which included the underwater observatory for the Mosasaurus. Something you’d been excited to see since it's release to the public a few years back.

"Yay me." You whispered to yourself as you looked out over the resort.

You tugged out your notebook and pen from your satchel to start jotting down some thoughts.

The park has pretty much the same popularity as when it first opened, the excited buzz was still in the air and everything seemed perfectly suitable so far.

You have a week to write your article then mail it to New York so you could always focus on the important details later on.

You: everything's good, the park looks fun. Will talk to u later x

You messaged your over-worried mother and snatched up your satchel then left the hotel.

You spotted a nearby diner where you picked up a few things for lunch then wandered towards the Mosasaurus pool.

"Beauty ain’t she?" Suddenly, a southern accent attracted your attention. You turned to see a large bald man smiling down at you. You tried to be polite and not ignore him.

"Quite." You moved away, heading towards the monorail.

"What are you doing here then missy?" He continued to follow you, you kept yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Business. But if you don't mind I'm working, and if I see correctly your wife and kids are over there. Your wife looks rather red in the face." You gestured to the woman over by the Mosasaurus pool that was staring daggers at her husband. The redneck backed off, mumbling a swift goodbye before you sat yourself inside the tightly compacted train.

You followed the track around the park, it flew past many different attractions and rides, some new and some old. You made sure to note down the ones to visit but first you had to check out the raptors.

When you first came to the parks, the raptors were young like you, they had only just started to begin training them of course and they were different raptors. They failed and ended up having to be put down so a couple years ago they recruited a new trainer from the navy and he apparently is the best trainer they've had here. You wanted to make sure for yourself if the rumours were true. It was quite remarkable how the park started with only eight species and now has 14 herbivores and six carnivores.

You hopped off the monorail and dialled Claire's number on your mobile.

"Hello? Miss (y/l/n)?" Claire answered. 

"Please call me (y//n)." You corrected her. You hated being called Miss (y/l/n), it made you sound too much like your mother and well, you weren’t like her. At all.

"I'm sorry, (y/n), how may... I help...you?" Claire's phone seemed to crackle, you grimaced slightly, placing your sunglasses on.

"Um, do you mind sending a jeep down to take me to the raptors pen?" You asked, you weren’t even sure if you would be allowed to see them but you figured you’d ask.

Claire seemed to move away from the phone for a moment muttering something to whomever she was with.

"Uh, sure, where are you exactly?" Claire asked.

"I'm by the old T-Rex pen from the original park, by the Cretaceous cruise." you informed her, Claire muttered a few more things away from the phone.

"Okay, a ranger should be with you shortly. Is that all?" Claire asked one last time.

"That's great, thanks." You quickly hung up and it wasn’t long until a jeep pulled up beside you and a man leant out the window.

"You (y//n) (y/l/n)?" He asked, his french accent thick as he did.

 You nodded your head with your hand over your eyes and he gestured for you to climb inside the vehicle.

"My name is Barry, I work with the raptors, my sister, she loves you." He held out his hand. You shook it, warmly smiling at him.

"Thank you. So, do you train the raptors?" You asked as he started to drive off, Barry smiled and shook his head.

"No, that's Owen Grady. I'm more of an assistant, the raptors don't mind me but I'm not the Alpha." Barry explained, the name Owen Grady stuck in your mind.

"And Owen Grady is? The alpha I mean?" You leant backwards, rolling down your window so the cool air could whip past your face.

"Yes, when the raptors hatched they imprinted on Owen making him the Alpha. He's been training them to listen but there's no leadership, if the girls really wanted to they could rip Owen apart but it's all about maintaining a relationship with these animals." Barry occasionally looked at you as he spoke. You looked ahead and in the distance could spot the large velociraptor pen.

"I see the enclosure has improved?" You half questioned, you can't really remember much of the small details from ten years ago but you remembered vaguely of what it looked like.

"Yes, they had to strengthen it after the first batch didn't work out but this set hasn't really caused us much trouble with trying to escape, thank god." Barry pulled up and kindly opened the door for you. 

You pulled your satchel up onto your shoulder again and removed your sunglasses.

"How many?" You asked as you walked up a set of stairs leading to a series of balconies over the pen.

"Four, four girls." Barry explained. You looked down around you, the cage looked empty apart from the occasional rustling in the vegetation. You could feel your heart start to speed up as you feel the child-like excitement build inside of you. 

"Where are they?" You lowered your voice leaning forward slightly and narrowing your eyes, trying to search for them, biting down on your lower lip.

Come on girls. You thought.

Suddenly you heard repeated clicking from a button and a voice boom. "Echo, Delta, Charlie, Blue!"

(PART 2) 

[miraclesmara]

Kyuranger Avatar AU

This AU is basically Kyuranger's plot as if it took place in the Avatar setting. I already wrote what kind of bender the Kyus are in a previous post (Please read that one first). The rest of this post is continued under read more:

I imagine that the benders shown in the beginning of the Kyuranger Avatar AU version of the opening would be: Raptor (air) - Spada (water) - Champ (earth) - Lucky (fire)

Jark Matter has conquered most of the world while the Rebellion has been fighting them back while saving innocents and searching for the Avatar

Shortly after the Kyus meet Lucky and then Garu, they and whoever else were there find out that Lucky is the Avatar when he went into the Avatar State during a Jark Matter attack. Not even Lucky himself knew that he's the Avatar until that moment.

Lucky had probably already mastered firebending during his time on Luth (village instead of a planet). Lucky's bending teachers are going to be Raptor for air, Spada for water, and Champ (maybe with Stinger also helping?) for earth.

Would the Orion fit better as a ship or an airship?

If earthbending wrestling (like the one in Toph's first episode in Avatar) is still a thing, Champ has definitely held the title of Champion for many years. Once the whole Jark Matter thing is over, he will take back the Champion title.

The Kyus find the BN thieves in Republic City.

How would Lucky encounter the BN thieves?:

a.) Similar to canon, where he just sees them fight off Jark Matter soldiers

b.) Lucky gets caught up in the BN thieves' latest con or scheme and then they get attacked by Jark Matter soldiers

Avatar au version of Balance's wire things: metalbending cords that's probably similar to that of metalbender cops but with less range and more cords. They can cause electrical shocks.

Naga can bloodbend multiple people at once.

Since Naga is a waterbender with silver hair, I can't decide on whether or not he has any connection to the Moon Spirit (if he does, so does Echidna).

I have decided that Stinger is a sandbender. I don't know whether or not he also knows how to do regular earthbending (not like the Kyus spend a lot of time on deserts or beaches anyway). He doesn't necessarily have to since he and all the other Kyus are capable of fighting without their bending.

Should Stinger have a metallic whip/cord that can be controlled with metalbending? If yes, I don't know where he learned to metalbend (unless his clan also happens to specialize in metalbending despite living in the desert). These questions may or may not apply to Scorpio as well.

I still can't decide on whether Xiao is a bender or not. I also can't decide if he's from the Fire Nation or an Air Nomad:

Reason for him to be Fire Nation: Dragons are associated with firebending. Also, so Xiao can have a dragon buddy (Avatar au version of Ryu Voyager) who comes to his aid from time to time.

Reason for him to be Air Nomad: So Raptor wouldn't be the only Air Nomad on the team (Lucky's airbending teacher is still mainly Raptor regardless of whether Xiao's an airbender or not).

Kotaro's waterbending skill may not be anywhere near Spada and Naga's level but he's still advanced compared to other waterbenders his age. He mostly favors water whips and ice-based attacks in waterbending combat.

Ikagen and Madako are from the Water Tribe (which one? I don't know). Ikagen is a nonbender while Madako is a waterbender.

Eris is a swampbender who waterbends the plants around the swamp to scare intruders away (pretty much the same as what she does in canon I guess). The Kyus find her at that big tree (what's it called again?) in the middle of the swamp. Would she still have anything important that the Kyus need?

Where should the Argo be located at?:

a.) In the Spirit World

b.) Frozen underwater near one of the Water Tribes

If you go with option b for the Argo's location, here's a possible idea for the au version of Tsurugi's introduction: Lucky, Stinger, Champ, and Kotaro enter the mostly frozen interior of the Argo, they see a man frozen in ice ("Let's unfreeze him!!" "Wait, don't-"), Lucky and Kotaro use their bending to unfreeze him despite Champ and Stinger telling them not to do that. To everyone's surprise, the man is somehow still alive despite having been frozen for who knows how long.

Even though this au is very unlikely to have time travel, I still want there to be a version of that one episode where the Kyus see illusions of people from their past. I guess it would either take place in the Spirit World or in the swamp.

As a parallel to him being the prince of the Leo System in the show, Lucky is the prince of the Fire Nation in this au.

What other animal should Caesar be a mix of? Or would he be just a lion? Would Lucky leave Caesar behind on Luth until he returns (just like in canon) or would he bring him along on his journey?

That's all I got. What do you think? Any suggestions? I'll leave the rest to whoever wants to write or draw for this au.

[gwendolyngreene]

Alright peeps.

Pre-Trailer Predictions

For obvious reasons, there is an internationally recognized travel ban (or something similar) on the two Jurassic islands, Nublar and Sorna. When news breaks that the volcano is going to erupt, it's a media frenzy. The public is split in two camps: let them die, or, we need to save them. The entire situation is so complicated that no one can do anything until it's debated in the courts. This is where Ian Malcolm comes in, to testify on his twice experience on the island chain. Claire and Owen are both also called to the stand, and this is the first time they've seen each other in a while. They were close after the Indominus Incident, but went their separate ways after some time. Owen has to talk about Blue and his work with the raptors on the stand, which is clearly something he tries to avoid taking about most of the time. Claire watches him, and it's slightly painful for her because she still feels guilty about the whole thing and harbors complicated feelings for Owen.

The courts come to their decision: no one is going anywhere. It's too dangerous. Whatever happens to the dinosaurs on the island will be left up to fate. This is not what Claire expected; with the help of Lockwood, she had a team assembled and prepared to launch as soon as they were allowed. Owen goes home, and we see he has a bit of a drinking problem. Especial after having to talk about Blue again. Then Claire shows up, and tells him they're going anyway. If he wants to come, he's welcome. He questions her, and Claire admits what they're doing is against the law but she believes it's the right thing to do. This isn't typical Claire, but Owen agrees and joins the team tasked with saving an island full of dinosaurs by moving them to Sorna. This marks the first film that will feature scenes on both islands.

(Maybe they head out that same night, while they still have a chance of slipping under the radar; public announcement doesn't happen until the next day?)

On the island though, it turns out that all the members of her team aren't on the same page. Some of then have different agendas and this causes chaos and disorder to break out, putting everyone in more danger than before. To Claire, this is nothing more than another personal failure. They aren't able to move everything off the island in time, as the volcano begins to erupt ahead of schedule. Claire and Owen and the remaining members of her team who haven't skipped out (or died) scramble for safety.

These experience pushes Claire and Owen together again, and they find that surviving together is like muscle memory. They slip back into it like the last X number of years never happened. And they need each other now more than ever. A near brush with death (Underwater?) makes then realize that they're not going to let each other go again.

(I also predict that "Lucy" is a descendant of Hammond. Probably either Lex or Tim's kid.)

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

[Disclaimer: this theory was developed after watching all the mini teasers released as of Thursday morning but BEFORE the big trailer release.]

What do you think?

[getreadytosmash]

The new dinosaur stood carefully behind Samuel, making Rick have to lean slightly in order to see her. 

She seemed to be around the size of a raptor, but the light covering of slick feathers down her arms and across the edge of her back, along with a spine and crescent told differently. Not to mention the odd...shape of her mouth, curved teeth poking out from where she had been made weirdly. Other than that, the grey-blue coat of scales and feathers made her look sweet as heck. 

She had Devil’s eyes though, bright yellow looking around but always coming back to look up at Sam. 

Overall? She was utterly adorable and Rick was already thinking of a cute collar and some toys, ohh, snacks definitely but did she eat grass or meat? And a bed, but maybe she would grow out of it-

“Rick, she’s not going to grow.” Sam interrupted, wincing and pressing his fingers to his nose. “She was a failure in experiments and will not grow beyond maybe an an inch or two, but she’ll stay relatively dog-sized.” After a moment, he added; “And she’ll eat both meat and vegetation, I ensured she wouldn’t starve at having both carnivore and herbivore genes.” 

“She’s not?” Jen raised an eyebrow, moving to crouch down and take a closer glance. “Well, that makes things easier, I guess.” 

“Still, I wasn’t intending this to happen. I’m not all that sure where I went wrong with the gene splicing. Both species are well known for their size and adaption to water, but perhaps I might have messed something up when applying water feathers-” 

Skaar suddenly clapped, making Samuel jolt and give a wide eyes stare.

“New baby! New baby needs name and then new baby is Smasher!” The grey hulk exclaimed had yeah, wanting a name for the little one made sense. Skaar was always big on identities and a newly made experiment that was a runt and basically a newborn dino? That was practically asking for him to be smitten. 

Speaking of, Rick pushed gently at the mental link and-

(Primarily feeds on fish, speeds are yet to be recorded, have medication on line if-) 

“Skaar, we don’t know long she’s going to live for,” Samuel frowned. “We can’t give her a name if she doesn’t survive at least a week.” 

“Then we’ll wait a week, if that’s what it takes.” Hulk shrugged, giving the little dinosaur a smile. “Besides, if she’s anything like her maker, she’s gonna survive through anything.”

Samuel flushed then, sputtering before crossing his arms and scowling away. Next to him, the new baby let out a purring noise as she pressed her face into Samuel’s side, earning coos from around the room. 

“Fine,” He sighed. “We’ll give her a name at the end of the week and-” 

“Sushi.”

“Huh?” Now all the looks were on Rick and he found himself shrugging. 

“Sushi. Since both species used enjoy water and she likes fish.” Rick shrugged, smiling. “And so does her dad! It’s fitting!”

There was a few minutes of staring before Samuel sighed and shrugged, showing his defeat. “...Sushi it is.”

(Sushi did last longer than a week and got herself an orange collar and a large plush bed. Her favourite thing to do was sit on people when they were asleep and Samuel had to spend weeks teaching her to swim before she began to play a game of “Drag Daddy underwater like prey”.) 

Okay!! Finally been thinking and fusion dino won out on the votes so when Samuel messes with dino genes, he reflects on how Devil is a t-rex and...finds some herbivore genes AND carnivore genes cause. U know. Samuel is excessive.

Anyway, he figured that mixing Gene's would be fun and selected Parasaurolophus and spinosaurus as the core sections of the DNA basing on the fact that both were species well equipped to deal with the water, a contrast to the fact that Devil is rather land based. Smaller selections of bird species mean that this new Species was equipped with a small dosage of oil replicated feathers that would further serve it within the water, as well as a much more flexible build and sound based workings.

All very skilled applications. Except for the part where the dinosaur is fucking 4'3 in height and keeps waddling after him and trying to sleep in bed with him. She's a giant disappointment and her everyone seems to adore SPH-001.

Fuck.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Modern Animorphs AU (part 2)

@jollysunflora : The second half of my complete list of modern AU Animorphs headcanons, approximately one per book.  

28. “Ax,” Marco says, “How come you can roll out ‘venti dulce de leche dark-chocolate frappuchino extra whip’ without batting an eye, but you giggle every time you have to say the word ‘soy’?”

“It has so many vowel—owl?—sounds, in so little space,” Ax says.  “That long sssssssssss, so pleasant on the tongue, but then that odd oooyyy ooy-yah?  All in the back of the mouth.  Very strange.  Sssoooy.  Ssususs-oooyaaa.”

“Also, he’s moved on from the frappuchinos,” Tobias adds.  “Now he keeps spending all our hard-stolen bitcoins on espresso mack... mach...”

“Espresso macchiato con panna,” Ax explains.  “Doppio.”

29. Cassie feels herself sweating as she props the laptop across the room from her, tools laid out and Ax unconscious on the table.  She never expected to find a YouTube video on how to perform brain surgery—and to be honest, it’s actually about “how neurosurgeons perform an orbitozygomatic craniotomy,” not intended to be a how-to manual—but it’s the best she can do under the circumstances, and so she’ll follow along for now.  

MM3.  “That’s the kind of strong leadership we need.”  Jake gestures to the full-color television (this year’s latest model) where a program of their current leader plays on a loop.  “Keeping the wrong kind of people out of this country, saving America for the right kind of Americans.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rachel says.  She and Tobias and Jake are the only three Animorphs, except when Melissa joins them sometimes, and listening to their “Supreme Leader” blather on gets old sometimes.  “All I want to know is whether it’s true that within a few years people will really have phones that plug into their cars.  That’d be cool.”

Tobias rubs his eyes against the silk of his wing feathers.  They itch constantly, since he doesn’t have a gas mask to wear every time he goes out into the pollution-opaque air outside the way that his human friends do.  Jake and Rachel take bets sometimes, idly, brutally, about whether he’s the last raptor left on the face of the planet.

“Magnificent!”  Drode appears in their midst, and both the Berensons immediately point guns at his head.

30. Marco is lying on his bed the day after watching Eva fall, staring at a patch of wall above his dresser, when he registers that his phone has been buzzing for a while now.  It goes off so many times he assumes he has to be getting a call, but when he checks his notifications he just discovers he’s gotten seventeen text messages in the last hour.  

The first is from “Smurfette,” and says “Did you know that there is a type of food that involves baking a cinnamon bun inside of a donut?  We must secure as many of these as it is possible for a human to consume, as soon as possible!”

The next one, from “Hawkgirl,” reads: “found out recently that apparently ax still thinks you invented flea powder.  i told him that if youd invented flea powder wed all be a lot richer right now.”

“Team Dad” (not to be confused with “Real Dad,” which is how Marco lists Peter) sent along several invitations to team missions on League of Legends this afternoon, along with a threat to have Cassie play Marco’s avatar if Marco doesn’t join in.  “we both know that by the time you get back you’ll have only healing attacks and she’ll have trained it to apologize automatically for stabbing people,” Jake adds.

One of the many texts from “Julia Butterfly Hill” suggests that Jake has underestimated Cassie’s diabolical streak, because it’s a screenshot of a clone of his account which has had its name changed to HarambeWasFramed.

The real surprise, however, is the single text from “Xena: Warrior Princess.”  It’s a link to an article about a disaster in the local national park and the efforts to clean up the wreckage of an as-yet-unidentified craft which went down in the canyon.  Marco has to read it a few times to understand the point she’s making, because it’s all about what’s not there: the article makes no mention of any human bodies being found among the wreckage.  

Marco gets halfway through typing a reply to them all which informs them in no uncertain terms that he sees through their transparent attempts to cheer him up and doesn’t appreciate it, but he deletes without sending.  He can practically hear his mom’s voice saying it: he can focus on the fact that he’s still surrounded by people who love him, or he can focus on the negative side of everything.  And being constantly negative is no way to live.  

31. “Sharing this again, because its been 3 months,” Jake’s cousin Brooke posts on Facebook.  “Anyone who has any news at all about Saddler, no matter what it is, PLEASE contact my family.  Big brother, I dont know if youre still out there, but I miss you.  I miss you like crazy.”

Jake turns up his Spotify’s Offspring channel a little louder to drown out the sounds of Tom and his dad shouting at each other downstairs.  His eyes flinch past Brooke’s post, but they can’t move fast enough to prevent the thought that flashes across the surface of his mind: Is this going to be me a year from now?

32. Tobias texts Rachel and Jake an article from Audubon.Org, where several birdwatchers are going into ecstasies of scientific fascination at the bald eagle and peregrine falcon seen flying in close formation in a cell-phone video taken near a highway overpass downtown.  His only comment is, “Told you so.”

33.  In the aftermath, Rachel does a Google search: “PTSD treatment symptoms outcomes.”  She reads through the WebMD site, the NIMH page, the Wikipedia link to a DSM-5 entry.  She thinks of Tobias’s withdrawn silences, his antipathy toward so much they used to enjoy, but she thinks of other things as well.  How exhausted Jake seems any time they’re not on-mission.  How badly Cassie flinches when the school bell rings and doors slam.  How Ax seems to be gradually losing interest in the things—cooking shows, new condiments, human history trivia, These Messages—that once drew his fascination.  How last week Marco flicked an ant off the back of his hand and then went white like he’d just kicked a puppy.  How good it had felt when she’d hurt David, spreading the pain around, giving it back.

She catches an Uber to the clinic downtown, filling out forms in the waiting room based on the checklist written on her phone for “how to get tobias an ssri”: Yes, she often feels tense and worried.  Yes, her heart often races for no reason.  No, she hasn’t thought of ending her life.  No, she doesn’t feel out of control when she eats.  

She gets as far as developing a cover story—it’s about how she’s never felt the same since her parents’ divorce—but in the hallway to the office she panics and calls Cassie.  “Am I doing the right thing?” she asks, after she’s explained.

Cassie is silent for a long time, never a good sign.  “I’m not sure an SSRI would work on a bird,” she says at last, “and that’s even if we could figure out a dose that would work without killing him.  I know you want to help, and I think you should, but...”

Rachel hears what she’s not saying: but what if her mom asks too many questions?  But is this risk really worth it?  But what if the psychiatrist (the receptionist, the pharmacist) is a controller?  But isn’t it them, and only them, against the world, and isn’t that just how it has to be?

“The war won’t last forever,” Cassie says weakly, and Rachel hates her a little for it.  “When it’s over, when we get to tell everyone what’s happening...”

Rachel hangs up.  She goes home, morphs, and flies out to the woods.  

«You know I love you, right?» she asks Tobias later that evening.

«Of course I do.»  He sounds exhausted.  She’s never felt more helpless in her life.

34. The Yeerk Peace Movement, as it comes out, has a Twitter feed.  It is rather painfully obvious that it has been set up and run entirely by aliens who are doing their very best to communicate with humans, and not quite succeeding. Most of the posts are couplets, for some reason that none of the Animorphs can fathom.  

“Want to be On Fleek? When you see someone’s rights threatened, speak!”

“Don’t be a Belieber anymore - end slavery and even the score.”

“#tbt: Remember when we were symbiotes?  Give taxxon freedom your sympathy votes!”

“Nickelback is super lame, and keeping involuntary hosts is just the same.”

“Respect your host’s rights today, and make your human into your bae!”

35. It’s Marco who comes up with the idea for how to take down William Roger Tennant.  This is a guy, after all, whose cockatiels have their own Instagram account: he runs his fame on the internet.  

“It's simple,” Marco explains. “We start a hashtag—#notsonicetennant—and we make it go viral.  All we have to do is film this guy everywhere he goes, and eventually the yeerk will slip up.”

It proves not to be simple after all.  Their gif of Tennant twitching madly mid-EPA speech gets overshadowed by the news story about One Direction nearly getting poisoned with spiders at the same banquet. Ax does not understand the concept of hashtag, and keeps adding #notsonicetennant to his retweets of what Marco calls “food porn.” They train one of Tobias’s repurposed GoPros to follow poodle-Marco, but that becomes a meme mocking the world's most obnoxious stray dog rather than Tennant himself.

The plan finally, finally comes off when they pull out all the stops and just confront him in morph.  The smartphones that Rachel rigged up in the surrounding buildings don't pick up the thought speak, but the audio of Tennant screaming at the aliens to leave him alone comes through just fine.

When the scandal breaks, the internet (in truly predictable fashion) drops #notsonicetennant and starts using #tennantgate instead.  

Ax reposts an old photo of Tennant eating a quinoa salad—zoomed in on the salad—and tags it #tennantgate.  All of his teammates assure him they appreciate the attempt.

36. “All right, that’s just weird,” Marco says, looking at the final entry in the underwater creepshow they’ve been walking through for the past hour.  “All the other ships have been getting more modern as we’ve gone, but this one?  Looks like it was made in the sixties, at the latest.”

«The world’s creepiest museum curators are getting sloppy with the placement of bodies as well,» Tobias points out.  «There’s no way that many people could fit on a boat that small.  They’re practically falling over the sides.»

Jake and Cassie look at each other, seeing the same realization reflected in each other’s eyes.  Neither one of them wants to say it out loud.

Jake becomes the one to bite the bullet.  “Don’t you get it?”  He points to the ragged clothes, the emaciated bodies, the modern smartphone tucked in among the antiquated radio equipment.  “They were refugees.”

37. Rachel shuts the window on the library computer as soon as she hears someone walk into the room, but she can tell she was too late by the look on Jake’s face when she turns around.  

“Roy Ludvig, huh?” Jake says.  “Heck of a name.”

“He was at the T.V. studio when we attacked.”  Rachel looks down, picking at her nail polish.  “No civilians were supposed to be in danger.”

Jake’s expression softens, as much as it ever does.  “And now you’re scrolling through his Facebook, looking for something that’ll let you sleep at night.”  

“He’s got a grandson,” Rachel blurts.  “Jordan’s age.  He...”  She shrugs.  He’s dead, and it’s more or less her fault.

“Shouldn’t be looking on Facebook.”  Jake sets his phone on the library table next to her, taps the screen to bring up an official-looking report.  “You should be, say, borrowing my dad’s computer.  Sending an email from his account to ask for the guy’s medical records.  If you had, you’d know that Mr. Roy Ludvig had a heart condition.  That he had maybe a year to live, at most, and doctors said he might die at any old time.”

Rachel looks down at the report for a long time, and eventually looks up at Jake.  “Doesn’t make it okay, what I did,” she says.  “He’s still dead.”

Jake shrugs.  “You don’t have to forget it ever happened, but you do have to live with it.  Live, and fight another day.”

38. In the aftermath of Estrid's visit, Tobias is flying over the boardwalk when he sees a henna artist who clearly smokes way too much pot to be a Yeerk. He gets Ax, they morph human, and both get henna tattoos of Elfangor's name. (Ax had previously expressed an admiration for the human tradition of commemorating a lost loved one by making markings on one's body.) They know the tats will disappear when they demorph, but they're both glad they did it. The artist asks how long they've been together, and Tobias says in a scandalized voice, “he's my UNCLE!” Thus, Tobias succeeds in both of his goals: making Ax laugh, and reminding him he has family here on Earth. Honestly, the reminder doesn't hurt Tobias either.

39. “You know, not all squirrels are like that,” Marco is fond of saying after a morph goes wrong.  “Not all termites are horrifying worker drones.”  Sometimes it’s, “You know, some of my best friends are fleas.”

It’s Cassie, however, who gets the last laugh out of that one.  «You know, Marco,» she says as they swim away from the wreckage of the helicopter, «Not all ants are like that, right?  I shouldn’t say that all ants are killers, right?»

Marco stares at her in silence while the others snicker, watching him war between the two impulses: to keep the joke going forever, and to express his honest hatred of ants.  

«Come on.»  And now Rachel has joined in on the teasing.  «You’re just going to let that kind of besmirching of the ant community stand?»  

«Okay, okay!»  Marco gives in.  «Ants suck.  Yes, all ants!»

40. “Our experts have examined the video extensively, and near as we can conclude, this footage is genuine and unedited,” the newscaster says.  “Given how viral this video has proven to be, with over two million views since it was posted to YouTube on Wednesday, everyone wants to know: is this footage proof that aliens exist?  Is this a publicity stunt for the upcoming Fantastic Beasts sequel?  Or, as one YouTube commenter asks, did a Smurf just have sex with a centaur?”

«Potential new ally?» Tobias suggests.  He’s already tapping out a search for the original video in his modified tablet.

Ax laughs.  «Of course not.  He’s crippled.  A vecol.  Useless.  We must respect the privacy of his isolation.»

“You know what?  Fuck that,” Marco snaps.  He shoves to his feet, posture tight with anger.  “Just... Fuck that,” he tells Ax.  “I have ADHD.  Attention Deficit whateverthefuck.  I take a pill every morning to help me function because my brain isn’t good enough to filter stimuli all by itself.  I got a fucking 135 on the world’s most boring IQ test and I’m still failing half my classes.  I’m a vecol.  You think I’m useless, huh?  You gonna start refusing to talk to me because of some bullshit about ‘respecting’ my ‘privacy’?  Huh?”

«That’s different,» Ax says.  «You’re not...»  He doesn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence.  

«If he’s an exception, I hope I am too,» Tobias says more gently.  «I got screened for anxiety disorders as a kid, and I guess we’ll never know if I qualify or not, ‘cause my aunt decided that doctors cost money and if the test said I needed one then she didn’t want to know about it.»

Ax doesn’t answer for a long time.  He doesn’t seem to know where to look.  

«Let’s go tell the others what we found.»  Tobias taps a button to send the video to himself.  «We can talk more about this later.»

MM4. Tobias flinches when his phone makes the small ping sound that means he has an alert.  The new kid is the easy target in every school on the planet.  He wonders what it’ll be this time: another Facebook post where the semi-anonymous account Toby IsALoser tags him in another meme about how he has to pay people for sex because the sight of his body would make any normal girl run away screaming, another unnamed Instagram ping telling him he should kill himself so that no one has to look at his stupid fat face anymore, another Snapchat image of a puddle of vomit with the caption “me when I think of you,” an email with the most disgusting gif anyone could find after a quick search...

It’s not, though.  It’s an invite to join a private Facebook group, called The Sharing, with several hundred local members.  Most of the names Tobias recognizes are cool older kids from the high school.  Intrigued, willing to trust for the moment that this isn’t some ridiculously elaborate prank, Tobias clicks “join.”  

41. Jake looks around at the enormous open field, concrete pitted with openings and low hovels of corrugated steel and rebar.  He can see for nearly half a mile in every direction before the smog makes it impossible, and the tallest things around are the hunched hork-bajir.  “Where are we?” he asks.

Cassie frowns.  “This?  Jake, this is downtown Manhattan.”

He gapes at her.  “What happened to it?”

“Tall buildings are targets for drone strikes,” she says casually, turning away.  “The only way to be safe was to go underground.”

42. Marco doesn’t bother going to the house of the guy who photographed them, nor does he try to catch the kid before he uploads the video anywhere.  Instead he waits for the image to appear on YouTube, then becomes the first commenter.  “Sweet manip!” he says.  “Is that Photoshop, or can you do that in free programs like Gimp?”

43.  “EarthIsOurs-dot-tumblr-dot-com?” Marco says incredulously.  “What does Taylor do there, post pictures of her pet taxxon?  Reblog plans for planetary domination?”

«Judging from her archive history, she’s had this blog for many years,» Ax says.  «She recently changed the domain name, but some of the content on here is from as early as 2008.»

Jake and Marco get caught up in debating with Cassie about what exactly to send to her, but Tobias just scrolls quietly through Taylor’s old posts.  She didn’t lie about being beautiful, he realizes, or about being popular.  There’s a long blank period in her tumblr account in mid-2014.  And then she posted one selfie—just one—after the fire.  

He can’t bring himself to read the names that the trolls call her, or the discussions about how much money they’d have to be paid to have sex with her.  But there’s no overlooking the suggestions that she kill herself.  The posts are too numerous, too vitriolic.  

“Every chick ever to wander onto the internet has gotten that crap,” Rachel says; clearly she’s been reading over his shoulder.  “She should’ve developed thick skin, not joined the Sharing.”

Tobias thinks of the Facebook page made at his old school just to discuss the fact that he’s a chubby zit-face, of the posts which eventually overwhelmed his Instagram with death threats.  «Yeah, I guess,» he says.

44.  It takes a long time for Cassie to get home from Australia, but at least they’re not too worried for most of that time; she texts them her location and a brief description of the insanity that landed her in the Outback as soon as she gets in contact with Yami’s family.

45.  “None of this makes any sense,” Peter says.  “I’m hallucinating, or you’re delusional, or else—”

Marco sets his phone in Peter’s lap. “Check the timestamp, Dad.  I took that six months ago.”

Peter stares at the phone for a long minute, and then slowly looks up at Marco.  At a clear loss for words, he tilts his head back toward the screen.

“I know.”  Marco laughs, the sound wet with tears.  “That blond wig looks terrible on her.  But it’s really her, Dad.  I swear.”

46. “So they’re going to get the U.S. embroiled in another war,” Marco says.  “And this one with a country that can actually fight back.”

«Seems like,» Tobias says.  «Only why bother with all the secrecy and political wrangling?  Why not just send a couple mean tweets to Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un?  That’d probably do the job just as well.»

“No, it wouldn’t.”  Jake runs a hand through his hair, looking around at them all.  “The yeerks need a total war.  Everything the U.S. and its allies can pull out, against everything China and its allies can muster.  Our military has gotten too used to sending drones to fight its wars, to ‘tactical strikes’ against insurgents.  If the yeerks want half the species annihilated, they have to do a lot more than poke a couple of egos.”

47. “News flash,” Marco says.  “Your average suburbanite ain’t gonna accept a seven-foot-tall alien for a neighbor.  You know the number of times my mom’s been asked for proof of citizenship before she was allowed to vote or cash a paycheck or buy a car?  How many times she’s been pulled over by cops while driving the speed limit with her seatbelt on?  And she’s a regular old human being.  Toby’s right—the hork-bajir have a whole other fight coming if we ever win the war.”  

48. Rachel feels the blood drain from her face when she opens the Facebook message and sees the name attached.  David’s Facebook account has been defunct for almost two years now; there’s no one left who would want or even be able to access it from the outside.  Should be no one.

Miss me? the message from David’s account says.

Who are you? she types with shaking fingers.  What do you want?

I know what you did.  I’m coming for you.  I’ve got friends all over the place and they’ll find you.  They’ll kill you.  Amazing the allies you can get, when you know where the bodies are kept.  On the internet, no one knows you’re a—

Rachel hits “block.”  She tells herself that the screaming nightmares she has all that night and into the next are the product of having a stressful life, she’s an Animorph for pete’s sake.

She doesn’t stop shuddering every time she gets a message for the next two weeks, but she never hears from whoever (It wasn’t David. It couldn’t have been.) it was ever again.

49.  They stagger away from yet another hopeless fight, all of them injured, half of them missing limbs or bleeding to death.  Dragging their damaged bodies behind the first dumpster they find, they demorph, remorph, and force their minds to focus long enough for the long flight home.  It’s only when Rachel is in owl morph, staring around the dimly lit alleyway, that she sees the security camera pointed directly at their location.  

«They must not check it that often,» Marco says without much hope.  «Or else they’d be out here already to come looking for us.»

«Doesn’t matter,» Tobias says harshly.  «It had a perfectly clear view of all your human faces.  And that building is owned by the yeerks.»

They all stare at each other in dull shock as the realization sinks in.  They always knew this moment was coming—they could only be so careful for so long—and yet, on some level each of them hoped it never would.  

«Take one more night to be with your families,» Jake says at last.  «We evacuate everyone in the morning.»

Jake loses his phone, again, somewhere amidst all the chaos.  This time around he doesn’t bother to replace it.  It’s not like his mom is going to be wondering where he is, not anymore.  

50.  “So,” Jake says, “this is going to sound crazy, but—”

“Aliens are invading the planet, and you’re the only kid terrorist who can stop them?” James suggests.  “We do have wifi up here, you know.  You’re Jake Berenson, right?  You’re all over the conspiracy theorists’ forums right now.”

“Um.”  Jake runs a hand through his hair, starts again.  “Yeah, pretty much.”

James nods.  “In that case, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince me your story’s not a load of crap before I call security.”  

51. Ax secures their wifi in something a billion times better-hidden than Tor.  With that reassurance, they all end up starting blogs.

Marco’s is a rambling string of wry comments about everything from the invasion to his parents’ science projects.  Sample post: “Insider source (aka my mom): Visser Three has morphed human and eaten AN ENTIRE BAG OF MARSHMALLOWS in one sitting, ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION.  Pass it on!”

Jake’s is the place that people go to find out how they can help, and to get his reassurance that the help means something.  Sample post: “As Barack Obama says, ‘We the people recognize that we have responsibilities as well as rights; that our destinies are bound together; that a freedom without a commitment to others is unworthy of our founding ideals, and those who died in their defense.’  This fight will never be over just as long as we keep supporting each other.  I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you all for the KickStarter donations.”

Rachel’s has beauty tips for the American girl on the run, light and self-deprecating enough that you often don’t notice the undercurrent of desperation.  Sample post: “If you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror, try fixing your hair using reflective surfaces such as pots, ponds, or pieces of Bug fighter wreckage.  Alternately, just say ‘fuck it’ and never look at yourself again.”

Cassie’s tells people how to stay safe, and how to keep their environments safe as well.  Sample post: “Everyone please remember, it’s important to stock enough food and water for family pets as well as humans when retreating to an apocalypse bunker!”

Tobias’s has a lot of good-natured grumbling about everyday life in the valley.  Sample post: “In other news, my girlfriend’s mom is currently arguing with the smartest being on the face of the planet about where to put the new latrine facilities.  Sorry Naomi, but my money’s on Toby.”

Ax’s has a lot of food reviews, of course, but again there’s that undercurrent of desperation, almost like he’s trying to convince someone else (or maybe even himself) that humans are worth saving.  Sample post: “Marco assures me that there are no less than 23 distinct flavors contained within every sip of Dr. Pepper.  Just think of the years of experimentation and innovation it must have required to produce a drink which can inspire 23 different reactions from human taste buds, all at the same time.  Truly inspired genius.”

52. They run drills upon drills for what to do in case of a drone strike.  Using any morphs they have that can dig or build—mole, taxxon, elephant, beaver—the Animorphs create an extensive network of tunnels and shelters, posting guards at all times to keep their eyes on the sky.  The hork-bajir valley doesn’t show up on satellite imagery, which they only know thanks to Peter’s definitely-illegal fact-gathering missions on the darkweb, but they don’t know for sure whether an overhead camera would be subject to the same strange perceptual distortions they all experience when flying there as birds.  They nearly lose their precious secrecy when Naomi sends several emails from her work account, claiming she’s being held hostage and asking anyone who will listen to come rescue her.  Eva generates a hasty follow-up from the same account asking people to ignore “the prank that I now realize was in poor taste,” but none of them are sure it worked for the next several days.  

53. Rachel makes one last post on her nearly-extinct Instagram account.  This time the scrap of paper she uses appears to be torn from the back of a food label, but the penciled script is as intricate as ever.  It reads “Who wants to live forever? —Freddie Mercury, 1986”  

54. After it’s all over, Tobias retreats, he hides, but he keeps a thread of communication open.  Cassie shoots him an email with the subject line “Hawk patient with intermittent aggression and lethargy—any idea what could be causing it?”  Marco sends him idiotic memes that now feature the Animorphs’ names and faces.  Ax asks for constant updates on the new wing of Taco Bell being built downtown, and repays the favor by leaking confidential information about the search for the Blade ship.

And then he gets one of the stranger emails he’s ever received.  It’s an offer of a full legacy scholarship to Harvard University (which has just found the means to explain some inconsistencies in the records of one “Alan Fangor,” who graduated in the ‘80s) in exchange for Tobias teaching one class per semester on any subject of his choice.  He agrees, with the stipulation that all his classes be online.

The resultant course (Ornithology 442: An Insider’s Perspective) is like nothing the students who participate have ever seen before.  Tobias will write out rambling treatises on Why Blue Jays Suck or All the Ways Hawks Are Superior to Eagles with a thought-speak-to-text recorder.  He’ll deliver online lectures from a shaky webcam pointed into a nonspecific tree, occasionally wandering off for hours at a time to go hunting.  Students who ask him personal questions about Rachel get regurgitated mouse skeletons Fed-Exed to their campus mailboxes.  Essays that don’t demonstrate much effort get feedback such as “even I can tell this sucks and I have a seventh-grade education” or “my grandmother could make better sentences than this AND SHE’S AN ANDALITE WHO DOESN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.”  Assignments include “find one bird fact in a textbook and explain why it’s a load of crap” or “go film a Boston pigeon until it does something interesting, I dare you.”

Nevertheless, enrollment is so popular that Harvard has a three-year waiting list and charges students an extra $500 just to sign up.  When Tobias finds out about the extra fee, he promptly video-calls the Intrepid, gives Ax remote access to his computer, and explains why he needs Ax to convert the course illegally to a MOOC.  Harvard University fires him for breach of contract; Yale hires him on that very same afternoon.  

part 1 here 

[levyowl]

Kyuranger OC: Fin- Iruka (Delphinus) Indigo (Backstory and Fun Facts)

Well, everyone else is doing this, so I guess I am, too

I feel ashamed at how long this is lol

Fin is from the Delphinus System (duh)

Before the original Rebellion (waaaaay before the Kyurangers) was really underway, her warm, beach planet was a popular place for refugees. One of those refugees was an orphaned little girl named Gill from the Pisces System.

Fin and her family adopted Gill, and they became immediate best friends.

Despite the odd looks from others about a humanoid family with a fish-like alien daughter, Gill became popular among the other kids for her water powers and her ability to light up some of her scales.

As the years went by, Gill became a sort of rebellion leader for the small planet. Fin played a support role, designing new weapons and armor for those doing the actual fighting. She would sometimes join them on missions to test her newly designed weapons herself.

One day, Gill, Fin, and their team receive a tip about a huge load of Jark Matter soldiers unloading supplies. Gill gets held up by the guards while Fin and the rest of the team go to take out the others. Unfortunately, the tip was a trick by one of the generals of Jark Matter. Fin and the rest of the team get fatally wounded in the fight.

Gill is too late to save the rest of the team, but Fin is still barely alive. Gill manages to fight off the rest of the foot soldiers and take Fin to a safe place. It’s too late to take Fin to a hospital, but Gill will not let her sister and her best friend in the world die because she couldn’t do anything.

Gills’ species can use their powers to heal others but at the cost of losing their power. Gill decides that Fin would do the same for her, so she sacrifices her power to save Fin.

Upon returning home, Gill tells Fin what happened and why she can’t use her powers anymore. Fin became so upset at the news her team was dead and her sister lost her powers that it took her awhile to calm down and realize her skin was glowing in some places. She had somehow gained Gills’ powers through her healing. Even more panic ensues.

After the incident, Fin learned of the Rebellion leader Shou Ronbou coming to her planet to look for new recruits. Fin knows she could be useful, so she tells Gill. She tries to tell Fin that happened wasn’t her fault, but Fin is still determined to go.

Gill tells Fin she’s proud of her and they have a heartfelt goodbye. Fin goes on to join Shou and Raptor on their mission to find the Kyurangers and defeat Jark Matter.

FINALLY, I’m done with the depressing backstory. Here are the fun facts:

Fin has long, black hair and wears glasses and a dark indigo yarn headband to keep her bangs back. She wears a sleeveless shirt with matching fingerless gloves under her uniform jacket and blue shorts with indigo sandals. She mostly dresses like this because it’s what she wore back at home, but the gloves are for when she’s working with machinery.

While Fin does have her sisters’ water powers, she is nowhere near as skilled with them as Gill.

Fin is a total Mom Friend™.

She’s a little reserved, but doesn’t hesitate to tell someone off or joke with the rest of the team.

Her personality type is INFP.

Fin regularly video chats with her family back home, including Gill, who monitors her sisters’ progress with her water powers.

She designed the Kyurangers’ specific weapons and tinkered with the designs for the Transformation Controller Seiza Blasters.

On her free time, she can be found in her room drawing. Sometimes it’s new weapons for new KyuTama or she’s just sketching random things.

Her wish that gave her the Iruka KyuTama was her realizing that she wanted to inspire a fighting spirit into those who were oppressed by Jark Matter just like her sister could by fighting along the Kyurangers herself.

Her weapon is the Kyu Kama.

She loves seafood because it reminds her of home.

Fin is more used to warmer, more tropical weather.

She can make certain spots on her skin light up at will, but she can’t "turn it off” when she’s surprised, scared, or angry.

While Gill could breathe underwater, Fin can’t. After several trial runs, however, they both learned that Fin can hold her breath for hours at a time.

Fin was originally going to be designed after my sign (Pisces), but after developing her backstory, I changed it to Delphinus so I could do a literal “Fish Out Of Water” concept.

Aaaaand that’s Fin! I’ll do one for Unari someday, but this took forever and my brain is fried. Hope you like it!

[dansnaturepictures]

2/1/17-Bank holiday at Radipole Lake and Weymouth and a bird filled journey

Today I went to one of my favourite nature reserves and towns in the country, RSPB Radipole Lake and Weymouth. Continuing to build my bird year list was the primary focus and it was very successful for that, between Radipole and birds seen on my journey there I got 19 more year ticks today, taking my year list to 55 which is higher than what my record year list of last year was at after 2 days and it makes this year my 2nd highest year list after 2 days.

It was perhaps the journey that was the extraordinary thing given that I saw lots of birds and got as many year ticks travelling to Radipole Lake as I did there. I don’t usually include the birds seen on a journey in my Wildlife Sightings Summary part of the blog, so I’ll talk through each of the 10 year ticks I got on the journey now. Firstly I cut through my nearby Lakeside on the way to Southampton Airport Parkway railway station where I got the train to Weymouth today and I saw the Greylag Geese that I missed during my annual New Year’s Day walk there yesterday, after getting on the train as it passed through Totton I saw a lovely Raven sat on the station a bird I really like so that was a great one to get. Then after going through the beautiful New Forest on a train it was the Dorset countryside that produced the other 8 year ticks on the journey. Particularly the lakes and wetland around the Poole area which the train passed near, where I saw my first Mute Swan, Black-tailed Godwit, Wigeon, Teal and Dunlin of the year. The fields and railway stations of Dorset also provided my 3rd of my 24 favourite birds of the year in the form of the Buzzard, a Pheasant and a Rook flying over. Going by train was a different way for me to travel and it struck me how good this was to enjoy the wildlife around.

We then arrived at Radipole Lake, I got my first year tick and what proved to be one of the highlights really early on, a Mediterranean Gull in the car park. I haven’t seen my first in a year very early before. We then had our usual introductory nose around the centre and looking over the lake, with one of my favourite bird the Shelduck the most notable year tick. We made our way round the reserve in great sunshine, where we saw Cetti’s Warbler which the reserve is so good for us seeing one here and earlier than usual again this year. Just after this I took the 1st picture in this photoset of the landscape. As we ate lunch on a bench we saw a Peregrine Falcon being mobbed by Crows, another great year tick. We didn’t have to wait long for another raptor to soar onto my year list as the Marsh Harrier which the reserve is equally renowned for was seen in the distance. I took the Mute Swan picture in the 2nd picture in this photoset as we headed back around the reserve. We then looped back round heading towards the centre and got close views of a Raven, really meaning I had great experiences with this bird today and consolidating its place as one of the best birds I’ve seen so far this year.

When heading back to the centre where I took the Teal picture in the 3rd picture in this photoset, I felt the visit had lacked just one thing, a view of the famous Radipole Lake Hooded Merganser something that’s been the subject of 2 of my greatest wildlife pictures over the last few years and something I weirdly almost see an old friend. We watched at the bridge near the centre for a bit and it showed up, looking as handsome as ever but not looking too well as it almost floated around with its head on its back. With it being the only of its species on the reserve and anywhere in this area it’s easy to observe that it must be getting on age wise for a duck now! When a lady arrived with food it notably made its way very slowly under the bridge, but once it started feeding again put on a great display which allowed me to get the 4th picture in this photoset of it. Before we left Radipole we witnessed an interesting piece of duck behaviour, we saw one male Mallard with another close behind it and another male Mallard’s head just below the first ones’ feet. It was dunking this other Mallard, which eventually got away and had to shed a lot of water from its feathers. This was a really interesting piece of behaviour, as was watching the Tufted Ducks dive and seeing them underwater which is made possible by the clear water here.

Before making our way back home we walked to Weymouth sea front where I took the 5th, 6th and 7th pictures in this photoset of views from it and the clock Tower. I spent a magical and reflective few minutes looking over the beach. This was our favourite family holiday destination when I was a child, we came almost every year. So many memories came back and it was special for me to be here as my Nan passed away last May and she loved Weymouth and coming with it, a lot of my happiest memories with her and my Grandad occurred on this beach so it was great to look back. I think she would have smiled but been in disbelief that I walked right up to the sea on the 2nd January! But it was a very sunny day today so that helped with all those summer memories. What I also thought when doing this was its amazing that I must have seen these views over 100 times but today was the first time I came back as someone who takes landscape pictures so I saw the real beauty of it and looked at it in a completely different way. However as a kid I think I always knew the beauty of it. A great bank holiday today to kick off my week off and continue another promising start to my bird year list, with loads of key species already seen but still so much more to aim for this week.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Mediterranean Gull, Great Black Backed Gull, Shelduck, Shoveler, Cetti’s Warbler, Grey Heron, Peregrine Falcon, Marsh Harrier and Gadwall of the year, Herring Gull, Black Headed Gull, Feral Pigeon, Raven, Carrion Crow, Woodpigeon, Mallard, Mute Swan, Teal, Wigeon, Tufted Duck, Coot and the Radipole Lake Hooded Merganser.