#note: that's not a ghost- that's supposed to be nix- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reno2ndgun · 3 years

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I posted 216 times in 2021

99 posts created (46%)

117 posts reblogged (54%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.2 posts.

I added 336 tags in 2021

#reno nix - 104 posts

#sometimesrufus - 54 posts

#verse: wonderful trouble - 49 posts

#ooc - 32 posts

#sentineloftheunderworld - 22 posts

#blazing blue - 18 posts

#verse: main - 15 posts

#verse: a dance of red and blue - 15 posts

#verse: hot shot - bc - 14 posts

#krvla - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 85 characters

#so i feel like they'd know stars and planets because they're visible to the naked eye

My Top Posts in 2021

Look who’s here! im not dead but i’ll be checking in more often now!

10 notes • Posted 2021-03-18 14:38:45 GMT

Wonderful Trouble

Reno looked around the dance floor of the Ball only to Find Ruluf in a proper mess and drunk. It didn’t take long for Reno to Find Tseng on the floor and slowly walk up to the man. “He’s really not taking Barker’s death well is he?” Tseng sighed and shook his head. “No. Not Really. Look, I know you both had a rough go recently after the breakup but do you think you could talk to him? The rest of us have tried.” Reno pressed his lips into a thin line. It wasn’t the first time Ruluf’s drinking had become a problem. It was the main reason Reno had dumped him. He like Ruluf ALOT. But there was nothing he could do about the heavy drinking. Barker had helped Ruluf get into rehab but with the mans death it seems like Ruluf had jumped right down that rabbit hole again. “Reno..” “Yeah yeah ok I’ll...See what I can do.” Reno sighed and moved away to go check on the other who was sitting at the bar Reno was supposed to be tending in half an hour. The Winter Ball was not the best place to be drunk. Especially when Ruluf was supposed to be helping Reno work the floor with Tseng and Rude. Aside from being drunk, Ruluf looked presentable. Hair neat, suit pressed. Reno Glanced over to Rufus on his way to the bar to to keep an eye on where he was on the floor. It was his job after all. “Ruluf....hey...Buddy. C’mon. “ He Rubbed a hand along Ruluf’s back to wake him and the next thing Reno know he had Ruluf hanging off of him and getting WAY too publicly affectionate with his ears. Reno put up with it long to give the guy an awkward pat and try to Coax him away from the Alcohol. “Look I know shit’s hard after losing Barker, but you gotta wise the fuck up here. The alcohol isn’t going to solve jack shit and it never has. Look, i’ll take your floor shift and we’ll talk when you’re sober. Go home for the night and grieve.” Reno pickpocketed Ruluf’s keys and tucked them away inside his vest when the man wasn’t looking. It takes another solid 20 minutes of coaxing and dodging drunk kisses and comforting lamentations before he actually got Ruluf to head off to the parking lot to pick up a taxi. He has no Idea ShinRa Seniors hired guns are watching...

10 notes • Posted 2021-11-22 18:30:28 GMT

-lays down on the couch- "I just had to explain basic addition to one of our top clients. Come distract me from thinking a about it."

Reno looked to Rufus from where he stood behind the couch. "So Dee was a good girl and ate Scarlet's shoes. Don't ask me where she found them"

15 notes • Posted 2021-11-29 19:43:23 GMT

"And now Palmer is asking me about his /own schedule/." -tosses PHS aside- "Why am I surrounded by incompetent idiots?" Rufus Shinra may not whine, but he’s dangerously close. He looks at Reno with big blue eyes.

"Probably because the only way you father feels even remotely competent is by surrounding himself by the incompetent. I think that's why he hates you. You remind him he's a fucking moron in comparison."

19 notes • Posted 2021-11-29 19:47:14 GMT

{Ghost Veld} Did you know Vincent never liked anyone touching him? Ever? I was the exception. As was his trainee...but even then. He despised it. It is a nice reprieve to see him allowing touch.

"VINCENT! I'M SEEING DEAD PEOPLE IN YOUR CLOSET AGAIN!"

24 notes • Posted 2021-07-30 07:18:18 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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talldarkandroguesome · 3 years

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27th of Last Seed, Fredas

I have not faded into non-existence, so that almost made the having to go through the whole procedure of dying worth it.

The Farseer has spoken to me about what I should like done with my body. I spoke with Nabine about it and asked if she wanted to partake, as is the Bosmer custom. She said that since I was not truly dying, she did not wish to put herself through that emotional aspect of the process.

I had reminded her that, of course, I was effectively never going to die, so if partaking of some part of me was important, that I would understand her desire to do so and would not deny her that opportunity.

She thought for a long while before saying that she could not bring herself to do it. That such acts were only supposed to be a way to keep those with you who had passed on as a way to hold onto that part of them that was physical. Since I would not be dying, despite her jokes to the contrary, she had no desire to consume me.

In truth, it was a bit of a relief. I could only imagine how difficult it would be for her. But also, I could not imagine how I might feel seeing the aftermath of it all. Knowing that....

Well it matters not, after all, she did not wish to do so.

Instead, I had the Farseer take my life somewhere away from where my family might see. She asked me if I would like my body treated as a fallen of their tribe. I told her I would be greatly honored for her to do so. She told me that, while they would forgo some of the usual rituals, I was not exactly dead, dead, she would have my remains laid to rest in the proper way.

Then we walked the path of the Veil of the Ghost Snake. I gathered the bog rats and made the offering. The Farseer spoke to the Ghost Snake and asked for His assistance, which He granted. Several of the wisewomen joined us with their own offerings. The Ghost Snake allowed us entrance to the ritual chamber below and the Farseer and I ventured down.

It was not a place I had ever been before and I admit a shiver of fear as we came to the altar. The wisewomen entered soon after and bathed me and anointed me in the oils of the dead. Then I was dressed in mourning stole and my face painted and hair decorated with flowers. The Farseer took me by the hand and bade me lay down upon the cool stone. She explained the spell briefly and made sure I was comfortable as possible, given the hard stone. The wisewomen laid around me mourning flowers and herb and incense and began to recite the parting words.

When they had finished praying for me, the Farseer handed me a vial. She did not have to tell me the contents for me to know the poison well by scent alone. I thanked her for her choice. It was a kindness, really. It was a combination that causes loss of feeling, then you slip into slumber, and then you simply stop breathing. It is a peaceful acting poison, far less traumatic than most, if you are able to mix all the parts in the correct proportions.

The wise women began their spell and the Farseer completed the first part of her incantations before giving me the signal to drink.

It was bitter to take down without anything else to ease its passage over tongue. But I knew my participation was important. This death was important. Even with the thousands of doubts and fears that poured into my mind like a bottomless well, I force my hand to remain at my lips and finished pouring the poison in, swallowing as quickly as possible.

The wise woman laid a soothing hand upon my brow and had me lay back against the small cushion she brought. She stroked my forehead like a child’s, even as the spell continued.

I felt a strange sort of light, almost a presence around me, through me, just before the poison began to take effect.

Despite all I had been told about the poison, it was not entirely painless.

I did lose the sensation of my limbs. A sort of numb, but thrumming feel, akin to the vibration of many bees as they swarm around a queen. Sort of warm at first.

Then the heat began to leave me. I began to dream. It was as though I were laying on my back in a pond. The water slowly creeping up my body as the level of the water grew.

And when it reached up to my face, I realized I could not breathe. There was soft music, as though the nymphs of Imperial legends were singing as they bade me join them in their games. The water had submerged me. My lungs burned and ached. My chest felt tight. The singing grew louder until it was almost one singular, continuous note.

Then I was gasping, my eyes shooting open. I found myself naked in the middle of a grove of trees. I could tell I was in Deshaan. After a short while of looking about, I came to get my barrings, not so very far from the tribe. It was a short jaunt back to the camp, where several of the women of the camp laughed at my returning without a stitch of clothing.

I belated realized that it was probably uncomfortable for them, so I plucked up a mushroom to hide my manhood behind. Perhaps a bit too much of a symbolic object, but it was what was at hand. I hurried to the tent, blessedly empty from the children being at their respective studies, and changed into the clothing I had left for myself.

Still shaking off the strange images from before my last death, I decided a few drinks and a bit of a lie down was in order.

I could not sleep however, I continued to see the images behind my eyelids. So I turned to more drink and picked up my lute for a bit of a distraction.

It was near to supper when the Farseer and the wise women returned and I was made to go to the Farseer’s yurt where the spells were continued.

As they worked their incantations over me, I could hear the merriment of dinner preparations and eating.

By the time everything was complete, my stomach was growing and dusk had fallen.

I was allowed to return to Nabine and Avon and the children. They had saved me some nix-hound chili on ashyams with a side of pickled mushrooms. It was the perfect comfort for all I had been through. Kuna laughed at me and said I ate like a starved Kagouti. Nabine scolded her about speaking to her father in such a way, though I am sure she was right.

That night there was singing and storytelling by the fire. Cariel curled up in Nabine’s lap and her wide eyes soon fell shut as she dozed off to the ancient epics. Kuna, unlike her sister, was so rapt with attention that when the storymaster paused to take a drink, she almost had a tantrum about needing to hear the rest.

Nabine told her to be patient or she would be put to sleep right then and there without getting to hear any more. She sulked, but waited. As she did so, began to shape the fire, so that when the storymaster resumed her tale, there was images to accompany them. Avon joined in, as did Sildras, who already knew the stories well. It is a memory I shall not soon forget. And it made me nostalgic for Qau-dar’s clan and the stories told to Little Khes when she was still so young.

How I miss them so.

Of course, even the happiest moments must come to an end.

One of the wise women called me to the Farseer’s yurt. The Farseer, Mother, and several of the wise women were already gathered and conversing about what was seen.

All of them went silent as I entered.

The Farseer told me that they knew now why I was falling susceptible to the urges of the Three Pillars of my Prince’s domain. I was eager, but apprehensive about what she was about to say, but simply nodded and waited for her judgement.

She explained that, as my soul was held in the Spiral Skein and I had given myself to my Prince, my connection to my soul was being filtered through the influences of Her realm. Further, each time I die, although Nirn is providing my body to me, it is through my connection to my soul back in the Spiral Skein.

I asked why I had not felt such influences when I had died with my soul in Coldharbour. The Farseer replied it was likely that I was receiving some influence, but that without my having pledged myself to Bal, and in fact having pledged my service to another Prince, the connection was far weaker.

The Farseer warned me that the more I die with my soul dedicated to my Prince and residing within the Spiral Skein, the more I will change.

I asked her what sort of changes and what I should be worried about.

She did not answer right away. The wise women looked at one another in nervous silence.

It was Mother who asked the Farseer to tell me.

The Farseer said that, I would slowly become more and more a being of my Prince’s realm. The more I died, the more influence Her sphere would have upon me. In a sense, I would slowly become more and more like the other non-mortals within His realm.

I glanced about and none of the wise women would meet my eyes. I turned back to the Farseer and asked her to be very specific with me.

Again she stalled in telling me my fate. I turned to Mother and asked her to please tell me.

Mother sighed and the Farseer made some motion in her direction that I did not understand. But Mother shook her head and took a deep breath to compose herself. I realized then that she was looking far less statuesque than she would normally allow herself. She looked almost feeling.

With a great rush she simply told me that I would become effectively a Daedra. I would still be Dunmer, but my body would become more and more Daedric each time that it reformed. Always outwardly Dunmer, but I would begin to feel the sway of that Daedric existence.

I laughed.

It was likely nerves, for there was no mirth in it.

A mortal become a Daedra? It was ludicrous, was it not?

And yet, some part of me knew that those impulses were not natural to me as who I had been before. But they felt so natural to me now. The proof was within me. I could tell it.

Did this mean that I was likely to become a serious danger to my family? To my House?

A crack of thunder split the sound of my laughter, a flash that illuminated the entire yurt. Then the rain began to pound upon the yurt, a sudden summer storm that seemed manifested from my own heart. I heard the sound of people running to get out of the rain and to their dry yurts.

Another deafening strike of thunder struck so close that it caused the ground to shake and I heard Kuna shriek in surprise. I heard Nabine singing a lullaby to soothe her, even as the storm continued.

Usually I would enjoy the chaotic fury of a summer storm. The thrill of the danger, but the knowledge that it brought with it cooling rains that quench the giant mushrooms and towering trees’ thirsts.

Somehow all I could feel was emptiness. That hollow space within me where my soul once resided. A space never to be filled, but for the temporary warmth of aetherial shards. Did Daedra feel this too? Or do their very natures prevent such things? Is it simply normal?

The Farseer told me I should rest to regain my strength after such a day.

I did not argue. I let Mother lead me back to my tent as though I were a child once more.

The storm continued to rage all around the encampment throughout the night. I laid there and listened to the sounds of everyone breathing.

I cannot describe the strange way that I feel now. It is mostly a sort of melancholy, a dread. But some part of me is also excited by it. I cannot explain why. Is this a blessing from my Prince. Has She deemed me worthy of her service in such a way as to make me one of her own? Was it intentional?

What am I saying, my Prince is far to good at weaving fates for it not to be intentional.

There was much of me that has been worried about if I might lose myself in the dangerous urges I felt. Yet, knowing that they stem from what they are, it is a sort of comfort. It is not that I have lost my moral compass, it is that I am experiencing that urge that Daedra always fight when in the presence of mortals. And they can do it. Which means that I, too, will be able to do it.

Perhaps it is not what I should be focused on given the grave implications, but I cannot help but feel blessed.

Is this the wrong feeling to have?

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

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ikenbar · 5 years

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Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice Pt 3

Warnings: Angst (more of a misunderstanding but it’s still there), burns and talk about blisters, foreshadowing, some fluff but don’t get your hopes up, and, finally, cliff hangers

(Chapter One parts one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven here :))

((Please read the author’s note on part one :)))

Chapter one:

Part three:

Victor’s office was large and spacious. The first thing that caught my eyes was a large white desk in the middle of the room that fit the modern aesthetic. The walls were made up of shelves that held a variety of books and priceless looking abstract sculptures. There was a large TV screen between two of the shelves, revealing a stone laced wall behind it. A couch and a small coffee table sat in the corner of the room, making the once intimidating looking room feel almost cozy. Though the couch looked too perfect to sit in and the table was so pristine, it seemed as if it was only used to hold a neat stack of magazines. In general, the room reminded me of one thing. My office. Though mine didn’t look nearly as expensive, we had the same lay out. Shelves filled with objects and books on the walls, a comfortable sitting area, and a desk that sat in the middle of the room. Maybe Bart was right. Maybe we really are alike.

I focused my attention on the desk, where a raven-haired gentleman sat staring at his computer screen. His hair was carefully cut just past his sharp eyebrows, one of which was pointed in a tall arch as if unsatisfied by what he was seeing before him. His ink black eyes reflected the screen perfectly. His lips were thin and tightly pressed together. The black suit he wore seemed to fit him perfectly. As if he had paid a lot of money to be sure it did just that. His body was lean but healthily built. He obviously took very good care of himself. I couldn’t pin whether that was commendable or just pompous. There was no way this wasn’t Victor.

I closed the door behind me causing Victor to look up. “Can I help you?” His voice was cold, deep, and dismissive. One would quake at the tone he emanated. I didn’t.

“I don’t know. Can you?” I asked, maintaining my position by the door.

Victor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for this.” The tone of his voice seemed to match the meaning of his words, “I have a meeting that is already running late. You can talk to my secretary for times that I am available. Otherwise, take your sales pitch elsewhere.” Sales pitch? What game was he playing? Is this normally how he would start his meetings? With a trick question? I didn't take Victor for a joker. Still, I decided to play along.

“Who’s this meeting with?”

Victor looked dismissively towards me. I folded my arms dominantly. He opened his mouth in a manner that practically told me off without a word being uttered from his lips. I raised an eyebrow, mimicking the way he had been looking at his computer. Victor, obviously already done with the conversation, sighed.

“One of the heads of Ike ‘n Bar Productions. Though it seems this meeting doesn’t matter as much to them as it does to me.” Victor stood up from his desk and took a file from it up with him, justifying the height that Bart had explained to me.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, slowly growing impatient.

“Because it is almost three thirty and he still hasn’t shown.” Victor checked his watch. I froze. He? Didn’t Bart tell him I was going to the meeting? Why would he be waiting for Bar-... Victor wasn’t playing a game. He really didn’t expect me to be there. He thought Ike was a guy's name. My headache rose again.

Two hours earlier:

There was a knock on the office door. “Come in.” Victor demanded. The door opened and Goldman came timidly through it.

“The Ike ‘n Bar Productions Company’s head just called.” Goldman approached the desk, “Something came up so Bart won’t be attending.”

“Very well.” Victor directed his attention to the computer next to him, “Push forward my five o’clock meeting.”

“You didn’t let me finish, sir.” Goldman chuckled awkwardly, “Bart won’t be attending but his co-head, Ike, will.” Victor picked up the folder from his desk about the Ike ‘n Bar Productions Company. He skimmed over the contents. Bartholomew Schmidt started his company two years ago alongside someone named Ike Bakira. There wasn’t much written about them. Only that their name was Ike and that they run the company in the background. It did specify one other thing.

“What do we know about her?” Victor asked, rereading the folder for details he might have missed about the woman.

“Him, sir.” Goldman corrected, “Ike Is a man.”

“The document says otherwise.” Victor looked up skeptically at Goldman.

“That’s not what I’ve heard, sir. I asked around the office and to people who have met him and this Ike was described to have no feminine instincts. He orders people around the office like a Colonel in the military. He fires people for being a minute late to turn in their reports. The reason why he stays in the office most of the time is because his glare could scare children. Interviews are off the table because he can’t emote at all-”

“Goldman,” Victor held a hand up, “everything you have told me sounds more like speculation then solid facts.”

“Trust me, Mr. Victor.” Goldman folded his arms, “There is no way this guy can be a woman.”

Present:

“My secretary sent you in instead of him in." Victor continued impatiently, "Meaning he isn’t here. Meaning he doesn’t want the funding I can offer. Meaning he. Doesn’t. Care.” I gripped at my sleeves. Who does this guy think he is?! How dare he look me in the eye and tell me that I don't care about my company?! And assume the name "Ike" only belongs to a certain gender?!

“What if he already came and thought you had cancelled the meeting.” I said. My voice, that sounded darker than before, made Victor finally look up at me, “After all, thirty minutes of waiting would be quite a while. It’s almost unprofessional.”

Victor’s eyes flashed with anger and uncertainty. “Didn’t I tell you to schedule a meeting with my secretary?”

“No need. I already have one.”

There was a knock at the door from behind me. Victor held his eye contact with me for a moment before calling to the door.

“Come in.”

Goldman poked his head through the door. After catching my eye, he smiled and walked in with a mug in his hand. “Your coffee, Ms. Ike!” I nodded and took the mug from his hand.

“Thank y-” I took one look at the mug and grimaced, “... this coffee is cold.”

“What?!” Goldman quickly took the cup and felt it, “Ah, I’m so sorry, Ms. Ike. I wasn’t paying attention. I will brew a fresh cup for you right away.” With that, Goldman rushed out of the office and shut the door behind him. Leaving Victor and I alone again. I turned and looked back to Victor. The look of restrained shock in his eyes was priceless.

“Anyway.” I resumed my folded arm position, “You were telling me about how I didn’t care about my company.”

“Ms. Ike,” Victor started, “I-”

“That’s Ikamara to you.” I interrupted, placing my briefcase on one of the chairs in front of Victor’s desk and removing my blazer, “because apparently you need reminding that names don’t belong to a specific gender.” Victor opened his mouth to reply but my headache was at the brink of bursting. I couldn’t take any more arguing, “It’s in the past.” I rubbed my temple and closed my eyes. “Let’s just start the meeting.” After a moment of silence Victor agreed.

“Take a seat.” He offered, gesturing to the seat that my briefcase occupied. I shook my head and opened my briefcase instead.

“I’d prefer to stand.” I deadpanned. I just wanted that day to be done. I just wanted his dumb money so I could make my dumb show and get more dumb views to further my father's dumb dream. Was that too much to ask? I pulled out the show proposal and handed it to Victor. He was still standing as he reached for the file. I retracted it slightly. “You can sit if you want.” I assured him.

“I’d prefer to stand.” His tone was defiant. He took the file but I didn't let it go. We locked eyes. This man was nothing like what my father had described. From the supposed striking poker-face to the power stance, he was someone else entirely. He seemed emotionless but still treated people like they were human. His stance, though towering and intense, had a sense of protection. From his hair to his suit to his eyes, there was one word that came to mind. Pretentious. He may have treated me like a human, but he obviously thinks humans were below him. His stance may be protective, but it was protective of himself. All he cared about was his looks and his company. How could I have been so nervous to meet him? This man was like every other capitalist I knew, full of it. ‘He really isn’t all that cold hearted’ my left shoe.

I eyed him coldly. Victor picked up on this and reciprocated by arching his eyebrow. We stared at each other for what seemed like forever. I finally sighed and let go of the file.

“Have it your way.” I said preparing the other papers in the case. Not that there is any other way you’d rather have it… I thought to myself. Victor opened the file in his hand as I cleared my throat and began the speech I had practiced in my head for the past two and a half hours, “The Ike ‘n Bar Productions Company would like to ask for funding for our upcoming TV show, Miracle Writer. The premise of the show features a character named Nix who can see the dead. She can speak to them and uses her talent to write the stories they have to share. Things go well at first as her stories are getting published and she becomes well known for being a ‘medium’ writer. But things start to go downhill when a ghost comes to Nix telling her he was murdered. They go to the cops, but they don’t believe a word she has to say. So, she teams up with a struggling, private investigating business to uncover the truth and put those spirits to rest.” I take a moment to allow Victor to finish reading the file. He looked up at me. I quickly avoided his eyes as I pulled a contract from my case. “We’d like you to help fund for a good SFX company so that the ghosts in the TV show could come across as realistic and captivating as possible.” I handed the contract to Victor who took it and immediately started reading it. “Any questions?” I asked this meaningfully. Before the meeting I was sure to write a large list of possible questions and answers that he could have for me. I was ready for anything.

“... Do you believe in superpowers?”

I wasn’t ready for that. “Excuse me?” I asked, hoping it was a joke.

“It’s a simple question.” Victor looked up from the papers in his hands.

I eyed him for a moment before carefully choosing my words, “I believe that science has come to the point where we can use technology and chemistry to further advance humans and their biology, and in that way, we would believe that there is such a thing as ‘superpowers.’” I was sure to use air quotes to specify my point, “But if you are referring to the science fiction version where people magically come in possession of such an ability, then no. I don’t believe in superpowers.”

“Then how do you plan to convey as such through the screen?”

“My skepticism of such a topic is precisely why we will be able to obtain such a strong tie to the audience.” I answered without hesitation, “I will be able to see the show through a skeptic’s eye and make it so our points are more believable.” Victor opened his mouth to say something else. I interrupted him, knowing exactly what he was going to say next, “My protege, Bart, is a believer in these ‘superpowers.’ His creative input will still keep the sort of magic that the viewers are looking for in the show.”

Victor closed his mouth and slowly nodded. He looked back down at the contract in thought. There was a knock at the door and, before Victor could call him in, Goldman peeked back into the room. He smiled as he brought in a new mug with steam visibly protruding from it. “Sorry for the wait!” He said cheerfully, walking up next to me to hand me the mug “I didn’t know if you wanted cream or sugar with it, so I kept it black. I could run and get you some really quick, if you’d like!”

“No need.” Victor said this before I could. He closed the files in his hand and handed them to me, “We are about done here.”

“Oh really?” I asked refusing to take the files and mug of coffee. “Why is that?"

“I don’t see this show going beyond one season. After a few episodes it will just seem like you are repeating yourself and the plot will die with your viewer count.” Victor’s tone was tactless and undermining. As if the very thought of the show was a waste of time. This aggravated me, “Do you even have any idea who you're hiring? This story would only be good if you were able to hook your audience with a good cast. If you can barely afford a good SFX team, how are you going to be able to afford a good cast?” He got me again. I hadn't even started to think about the cast for the show. I bet I would have if Bart had given me some more time to prep. I looked around the room for inspiration. My eyes fell on my blazer resting on the chair next to me. I raised my eyebrow as I saw the metallic business card poking out from inside my jacket.

“What if I told you I could get Kiro on the show?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, “That would pull in quite a lot of views from that one name alone.”

“And just how do you plan on getting away with that?”

“He owes me a favor.” I said simply, delicately pushing the card securely into the pocket of the blazer. I looked back up at Victor, who was giving me a skeptical look. I ignored it and continued, “As for the seasonal issue, we have plans for that as well. With your help, we will make up to six seasons. In fact, I have the plans for that right here.”

I moved back to my case but, as I did so, I lightly brushed Goldman’s leg. Causing him to jump and lose control of the mug in his hand. With a large splash the mug came crashing into my left arm as hot coffee poured all over my white shirt. “Are you thick?!” Victor yelled at Goldman for his incompetence as he briskly walked around his desk, “Have you forgotten how to hold a mug?!” Goldman apologized profusely and started dabbing at the coffee with a handkerchief. I couldn’t care less about my shirt. I reached for my briefcase but was stopped as Victor pulled at my arm. He started to unbutton my sleeve.

“No!” I forcefully pulled my arm away from his hold, causing Victor and Goldman to look at me with surprise. “I mean.” I quickly settled my panicked tone and regained my composure, “I’m fine. No need to fuss over me.”

“But that was piping hot coffee.” Goldman rung the handkerchief in his hand, “You must be in pain-"

“I’ve felt worse.” I reassured him, going back into my briefcase and pulling out a slightly soaked folder. I held the folder out to Victor and changed the topic, “Here. They may be a bit wet, but you can still make out the details.”

“Ms. Ike-...amara, You should change out of that shirt as soon as possible.” Victor advised seriously, ignoring the folder in my hand “For the benefit of the shirt and yourself.”

“Oh yes, because buying a new white shirt would be too difficult.” I rolled my eyes, “I’m fine, really.”

“There is no need for you to put on a face. Those burns need to be treated right away.”

I opened my mouth to retaliate again but Goldman stopped me. “Please, Ms. Ike, take care of yourself first. The meeting can wait.”

Everything in me told me to fight back, to make sure this deal was settled. But with the throbbing headache and the look of determination in Victor’s eyes, I knew it was time to cave. I sighed and pulled out my wallet from my, thankfully, dry pants pocket. I whipped out my business card and gave it to Victor. “Keep the papers and contact me about your final verdict.” I said with determination dripping from my mouth. Victor obediently took the card and, finally, the folder from my other hand.

“Send LFG the dry cleaning bill.” Victor added, “Goldman will take care of it.” Goldman cringed slightly after hearing this but he nodded.

“O-of course I will!” He smiled politely. I nodded and closed my briefcase. I carefully inspected the blazer next to it and found there was a small splash of coffee on the back. But, thankfully, it was nowhere near the pockets or the contents therein. I nodded to the men, “Thank you for your time.” I shook hands with both of them and took up my stuff. I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me.

Once in the empty elevator, I pressed the lobby button and the doors closed. As soon as they did, I clutched my head in agony. That meeting could have gone better. So. Much. Better. Now we weren’t going to get the funding for the show that we had wanted, and it would have been my fault. Bart should have done the interview… no. Bart should have given me the day to prepare instead of two measly hours. I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the Advil that I had stashed away there. “If only I had something to wash it down with.” I muttered to myself as I looked down at my coffee stain on my shirt. For the first time in my life, I thanked the stars that I couldn’t feel anything in my left arm. I unbuttoned my shirt slightly and took a peek at my arm. It looked red and parts of it started to blister. I sighed and buttoned up the shirt again. Just another blemish added to the record.

I finally took the pills that I held in my hand. The feeling of the dry pills going down my throat made me shiver but that was a much better feeling then the headache I had put off for so long.

My phone sprang to life from my pocket and started ringing the tone I had saved for my father. I grimaced slightly and pulled my phone out to answer it.

“Hello?” I asked halfheartedly.

“Hey! How did the interview go?” Bart’s cheery voice made me cringe.

“.... I’ll tell you at dinner.” I managed to say.

“Oo! A celebratory dinner I hope?”

“Think what you’d like. I have to stop my apartment and change. I’ll meet you at the house around five thirty.”

“Sounds good. You did good kid! I’m proud of you.” Bart’s tone showed that he really meant it. I closed my eyes tight.

“Thanks.” I held back a lump in my throat, “I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up the phone before hearing his goodbye and slumped onto the wall behind me. “I could still turn this day around.” I thought aloud, “I could still have a good day…. How many times do I have to say that before it comes true?”

The elevator doors opened. Composing myself, I walked out into the lobby.

End of Part Three

(Next)

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aweebwrites · 4 years

Text

Move on Dragons Ch23

“Of all the times to be sent back to…” Cole murmured as he looked down at his translucent green hand, finding himself to be a ghost all over again.

He was sure the only reason he wasn’t having a more severe reaction was because of the shock of the whole situation. And he had to keep focus on that, on emotions or else he’d lose his mind over his inability to physically feel.

“H-hey! It’s ok! I mean, Little G got reversed pretty quickly so maybe you will too?” Jay says hopefully as Cole frowned.

“Lets hope so. I’m…” He swallowed. “I’m not willing to go through this twice… That and… There’s no Ying Yang moon for a long time to come.” He says, clenching his fist and feeling nothing.

He could feel the shock slowly bleed into slowly increasing panic. Despite having his other two senses, he felt muted, felt as if he was missing a limb- but all over. A barely there whimper caught his attention and he looked down at Rux as he looked him over in apprehension, frozen to his spot on the ground from where he fell from Cole’s hands that couldn’t hold anything anymore.

“Don’t worry about it bud. It’s fine.” Cole reassured with a tight smile.

“Holy shit! Cole! Why are you a- a ghost again?!” Kai blurts as he stepped out with several blankets and pillows in arms, his wings helping him hold them.

“There’s not much we can do about this right now so I suggest we focus on the dragons for now.” Zane says as he walked over and picked Rux up, the dragon far more hesitant with him than he was with Kai or Cole. “If we aren’t careful, they could develop traumatic memories. And while we can’t always prevent such a thing, we should put our best efforts into trying still.” He spoke low as panels in his back opened up for a metallic wing to pull free, half wrapping around Rux as comfort.

“Zane’s right.” Cole agrees, glancing at his friends looking at him in worry. “We’re supposed to help them grow up into better dragons than they were. Trauma isn’t the best way to do that. You guys take them upstairs.” He told them and Zane nods and went.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care or hold concern over the fact that the amount of time he’s been a ghost has long passed how long Little G was a human. No, it was the opposite. He wanted to stay by Cole’s side but someone had to be level headed once it comes onto the dragons… That and he knows Cole doesn’t want them see him slowly coming apart at the seams like he was. Especially not Rux.

“... Cole…” Nya began.

“No, it’s ok. I just need a moment. Go help out Zane.” He reassured her with a tight smile before he passed Kai by to head into their room.

“Nix, you be a good boy and look after your brother for a little while, ok?” Jay says, looking down at the dragonling who was looking around nervously at the tense air around them.

Nix blinked at him as he walked him over to Nya, letting her take him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a jif.” Jay promised with his normal bright grin before nodded at Nya to go.

She hesitates then does so, Pixal following after a moment.

“I’ll talk to him.” Tempest says, turning around to face Kai, the latter frowning.

“... Jay, make sure to keep him in check.” Kai spoke after a moment’s contemplation, his tail flicking back and forth with underlying anxiety.

“I will. Rux needs you for now.” Jay nods then passed him by too and Kai watched him go, noting how his stride changing mid walk as Tempest took over again.

He then breathed smoke through his nose before heading upstairs.

Tempest walked into the room, finding Cole curled up on his bed- or rather, half way through, his breathing fast as he clutched his hair. He tilted his head to the side then walked in, perching at the edge of the bed and curling his tail half into his lap.

“Hey, what’s being a ghost like?” Tempest asked, ignoring Jay as he yelled up a storm, threatening to strangle him.

Cole didn’t respond but Tempest waited patiently, his slitted blue eyes on the tip of his tail, watching it flick back and forth.

“...Hell.” The quiet response came some time later. “... It’s… Like being plugged out of your body… You can see… And hear… Think… And feel emotions… But…” Cole looked up from his arms, looking run down and weary, his now equally green eyes looking distant and tired.

“That’s it. You can’t… Fell… Or smell… Or taste… You can’t… You just… Feel untethered… Like a helium balloon.” He murmured into his arms. “And… If I’m not careful… I’ll float away… And disappear…” He gritted his teeth at that, gripping his arms tightly- not that he could tell he was without looking.

“And you’re afraid that’ll happen to you, right? That you’d disappear and there’s no coming back?” Tempest asked him, tilting his head to the side.

“... Yeah.” Cole’s barely audible answer came not long after.

“But that won’t happen.” The blue half serpentine, part dragon, barely human spoke factually and Cole frowned. “‘How do I know that?’” He guessed before Cole could ask.

“Haven’t you realised? You have annoyingly persistent friends, family that would tear this world apart before they let that happen to you, before they let you fade away. This rich coming from me but, have some faith in them, will you?” He huffed. “The dragon elders still have Nix’s time forward powers so they could try that. And if that fails, we have contact with an interdimensional traveler slash inspector or whatever the hell that girl- Vortica- is. She’s bound to see this happen at least a few times and would know how to fix it. And even if that fails, they’d all find a way to fix this. Even if it meant marching into the Departed Realm and asking the First Spinjitzu Master himself for help.” Tempest reminds and Cole couldn’t hold back a huff at his bold statement.

“Don’t believe me? Then take their word for it. You know your friends better than I do but I know they’re idiotic and troublesome enough to actually find themselves infront of the First Spinjitzu Master if you needed it.” He told Cole, glancing at him through the corner of his eyes. “And you know it.” He added, using his tail to point at Cole and the Earth Ninja couldn’t deny.

His friends, they were all stubborn enough to pull off something like that. And knowing that… Cole smiled as warmth filled his chest, spreading through him and making him solid.

“... Thanks…” He told Tempest as he uncurled himself, feeling infinitely better than he previously had. “You know, you’re pretty good with this whole pep talk thing. Why not do it more often?” Cole joked and Tempest tsked.

“That’s way too troublesome and tiring.” He immediately declined and Cole chuckled. “Don’t make it too much of a habit either. I only did it because this idiot would probably make things worse. He’s desperate enough to help his friend that he’s willing to try- even if he knows he’d fail.” He huffed, ignoring Jay’s yell of hey.

Cole huffed.

“You kno, you can stop with this whole ‘his friend’ business. I’m your friend too you know.” Cole says lightly and Tempest hated that he froze so suddenly. “Heck, we all are. You should know that by now.” He huffed as he shifted to the edge of the bed, nudging the other male with his shoulder, pleasantly surprised to find that he was actually solid enough to do so.

“... Yeah whatever.” He huffed to brush it off before he retreated, shoving Jay out.

“Rude much.” Jay huffed, crossing his arms. “... You alright?” He asked tentatively after a moment.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” Cole smiled then got up and stretched on reflex. “We better go help out the others. Rux and Nix must be worried.” He reminded and Jay nods as he stood, a smile on his face to hear in his friend’s voice how much happier and confident he was.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Jay says, leading the way.

Cole headed above deck in the living space and wasn’t at all surprised to find Rux curled up in Kai’s arms from where the latter was seated by the half opened doors, if only to stamp out the last of Rux’s fright of the loud thunder by reassuring him that it was just that: thunder. Nix was also with him, both of them using Kai as a sort of glorified bed, no matter how small. He seems much calmer with a familiar figure and his brother. The others all perked up at the sight of him, wanting to ask questions but not sure if they should interrupt this moment of peace he seems to just have found. He walked over to where Kai was, wary of the rain but Kai had made sure to raise a wing to block any stray drops of water as he closed the door again with his tail. He then sat next to him and reached out to Rux, stroking his head.

Rux’s head lifted as he opened his eyes at the familiar touch. It was confusing for him. He couldn’t smell the other strange dragon he found himself attached to. He remembered before, remembered his power, remembered how this one had changed and looked him over, noting he looked… Different… He hesitated then gave a low, questioning coo.

“It’s ok Rux. I know I probably look different but it looks like I’ll be like this for a while. I won’t always be able to pick you up or touch you anymore but you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be back to normal in no time.” Cole murmured low, knowing he probably couldn’t understand him but wanting to reassure him anyway. “You just be a good little dragon and be happy, yeah? It’s not every day you get to relive childhood twice after all. So let’s make sure you enjoy it to the fullest.” He smiled, leaning down to gently butt their foreheads together and Rux gave a chirp before switching onto Cole’s arms, nuzzling him.

“Oh thank god.” Kai sighed, taking a deep breath. They’re really growing. I could barely breathe.” He relaxed then more still once Jay picked up Nix off of him and sat next to Cole so both brothers could be close.

“They are. Soon, they’ll be the ones picking us up.” Jay chuckled, nuzzling Nix as he gave a happy coo.

“So what’s the plan? I don’t think you’ll be turning back on your own…” Nya asked as she and the others joined them on the ground.

“Well, the big dad and Wu still have Nix’s time powers contained and with them so we start there tomorrow once the storm is over. And if that fails, we have Vortica’s contact. Maybe she knows how to reverse it.” Jay told them and the three nodded at that, finding that both options are smart ones.

“Don’t worry Cole, we’ll fix this, even if we have to resurrect Lloyd’s grandfather to help.” Nya told him determinedly and Cole chuckled before all out laughing, his smile wide.

All but Jay looked at him confused- but happy to see him genuinely laughing in this situation.

“You know...” Cole began, swiping nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes, his smile still wide and warm. “A friend of ours told me you might do that.” He hummed.

“Of course we would.” Lloyd shrugged, leaning forward on his hands planted in his lap. “That’s what family does.” He grinned, showing off large fangs.

“Darn right that’s what we do!” Nya grinned too, slinging an arm around Lloyd’s neck and he laughed.

Cole smiled as he scratched under Rux’s chin, hearing him purr as he did. Yeah. Everything would turn out fine, he was sure.

_____________

(Whoop a little late here. My sense of time is warped af. But hey! Tempest to the rescue! I wouldn't say he's shy but as a whole nother personality that's more like a whole new person inside Jay, he's new to most concepts. That and actually feeling emotions rather than bat them aside with a smile and carefulness can be a little overwhelming for him. Anyways thanks as always for reading!!!)

#ninjago #cole ninjago #jay ninjago #kai ninjago #zane ninjago #lloyd ninjago #nya ninjago #pixal ninjago #ninjago acronix #ninjago krux #aweebwrites' work

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creator-zee · 4 years

Text

195

“Can’t you just shapeshift or something?” Fymeh asked the two witches she was trapped with.

“Shapeshift.” One of the witches scoffed, glancing at the other. “She says it like it’s easy.”

“Isn’t it?” Fymeh asked. Nix always made it look so easy. Like it was as natural as breathing.

“No.” The other witch said. “It’s the hardest type of magic. Most witches don’t even bother trying to learn it. Not worth the struggle. Time can be better spent elsewhere. Like learning how to explode things.”

Fymeh grunted. “Then why can’t you explode these bars?”

“They’re reinforced with something that nullifies magic. They won’t be affected by any spells.” The first witch answered before continuing. “Whatever witch you're hanging around that makes you think it’s easy you should keep close they’re probably very powerful.”

“Why is shapeshifting so hard?” Fumeh asked. If they weren’t getting out she might as well try to learn something.

“Well, first you have to be able to picture whatever you’re shifting into perfectly or you could end up some kind of freak. Like half cat, half human.” The witch began explaining, and Fymeh’s thoughts immediately drifted to Nix. Was that what had happened?

“Next, you have to deal with the fact that your mind is joined by the animals. The instincts help navigate the form easier but they can be overpowering.” The witch continued. “And, even if you get past that it drains your magic. Unless you have crazy magic regeneration than it’s not worth it because you can’t keep it up for long.”

“Not to mention clothes don’t shift.” The other witch added. “That can be awkward.”

“Most witches who dabble only use one or two shapes for ease.” The first added.

“There was only one proficient shapeshifter during our time at our academy.” The other chimed in. “But, she had some sort of freak accident her third year. Became even more of a recluse after that.”

“Freak accident?” Fymeh pushed, curious.

“Yeah apparently she ended up with cat ears and a cat tail. But, I think they fixed it. Last time I saw her - at the library I think - she looked like a normal human.” One of the witches answered.

“What was her name?” Fymeh asked, having her own suspicions.

“Something with an N.... Night maybe?” The other shrugged.

“Nix?” Fymeh prompted.

“Yeah that’s it. Wait... how’d you know that?” The witch asked giving Fymeh a suspicious glance.

“I may know her.” Fymeh answered with a shrug of her own.

“If that’s the witch you know, definitely keep her close. She was crazy powerful. She could shapeshift and her magic would still regenerate. She had crazy amounts of magic too. She almost never ran out.” One of the witches said.

The other nodded. “She also knew how to physically fight. She didn’t have much time outside of training though. Didn’t have many friends, especially after her incident.”

Fymeh processed this new information about Nix. It would certainly make sense why Nix freaked out so much about being cut off from her magic.

“What’s it like to be cut off from your magic?” Fymeh asked, not missing this opportunity to learn new info.

“It’s like having a leg cut off.” One witch said, grimacing. “Most witches use it so much that being cut off from it is debilitating.”

“It’s like having a leg cut off and you think it might regrow but you're not sure and that uncertainty is the real killer.” The other witch clarified.

The other witch was about to add something, but stopped when a bandit came into view.

The bandit stopped outside the bars, pulling out keys, and unlocking the door. Not missing this opportunity, Fymeh immediately lunged forwards. The bandit didn’t miss a beat, catching Fymeh’s wrists.

“It's Nix.” The bandit hissed. “Red dingoes hunt at dawn.”

“Blue doves sing at dusk.” Fymeh replied.

Nix, shifted into a bandit, sighed in relief and released Fymeh. To her surprise, Nix pulled out a length of rope.

“Appearances.” Nix explained as she tied Fymeh’s hands together.

Nix turned to the other two witches. “I don’t suppose either of you know invisibility spells.”

Both awkwardly shook their heads.

Nix sighed, before raising her hand and both witches turned invisible. “Keep quiet.” She ordered.

Nix gently guided Fymeh in front of her before leading her down the winding paths of the mine the bandits had taken over.

The other bandits barely glanced up as Nix marched past. They would figure out later their mistake when they found the actual bandits unconscious body and their cells empty.

Once outside Nix released her spell and the two witches, obviously city witches, scampered off. Nix untied Fymeh, but didn’t shift back, which Fymeh noted with some confusion.

“Why not shift back?” She asked.

“Clothes.” Nix offered as explanation, being oddly brief.

“What’s up?” Fymeh asked, stepping in front of Nix stopping her, meeting her eyes, but they weren’t her eyes. They were the bandits. She knew it was Nix, but it was still odd. She was staring down a stranger.

“Nothing.” Nix grunted and sidled past Fymeh.

“Nix. Don’t shut me out.” Fymeh pleaded.

Nix faltered slightly, but remained silent, continuing to walk away, taking long strides so Fymeh had to jog to keep up. The bandit Nix was shifted into was almost as tall as Zughei.

“Nix what’s going on?” Fymeh tried again.

“It’s nothing.” Nix growled. “Leave me alone.”

“You’re never like this.” Fymeh pushed. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck off.” Nix snapped. “The campsites a few miles north, Zug’s there. I need some space.”

Fymeh stood, stunned. Nix never swore. What was going on with her? But Nix had already vanished, Fymeh had no choice but to find Zug and see if she knew more.

Zug didn’t know more. Apparently Nix had come back from hunting a completely different person. Zug had thought that she was an imposter at first, but she knew the phrase. Zug had only stuck around long enough to hear that Fymeh had been captured before flying off again.

So, Zughei and Fymeh were left worriedly sitting by the fire with no idea how to track down Nix.

Nix roared. Her anger was burning and she had shifted into a form more fitting. She was stretching her limits but she didn’t care. Being a giant fire-breathing lizard for however long she could keep it up was worth it.

Her anger died as the form faded, leaving her in her true form. Her pathetic true form. Anger faded leaving the hurt behind. She slumped to the forest floor. She was so useless. For all her magical prowess she was useless. Just parading behind a façade. She wasn’t a great witch. She wasn’t a great fighter. She was just a pathetic freak playing dress up. Nicole was right. She had always been right. Why else would she have to constantly be relying on stranger’s pity to avoid death.

No proper witch had to rely on random handouts. Nix’s hand ghosted over the scar on her face, covered by her mask. No proper witch had to fight with swords. No proper witch let themselves run out of magic.

Nix was a failure and a freak. She always had been. Even before the incident. Her parents knew it, she knew it, Nicole knew it, and Zughei and Fymeh would figure it out soon enough. She had been foolish to grow close. She should’ve left once her magic returned. Given them a string and left. She worked alone for a reason.

Footsteps approached and Nix looked up to see Nicole approaching. She didn’t even bother trying to run. Nicole was far better than her.

Nicole crouched in front of her. “Crying in the woods? That’s pathetic, but I guess so are you.”

Nix couldn’t even formulate a response. That’s how pathetic she was.

Nicole ran her finger along Nix’s jaw, stopping at her chin and pointing her head up.

“But it’s okay.” Nicole reassured her, her tone changing to a sickly sweet one. “I’m here to take care of you. You can always rely on me. Even if you are a complete freak I’ll always be your girlfriend.”

Nicole knew how powerful Nix truly was, but yet here she was cowering and whimpering in the woods at a few words from her. She was in control and Nix was hers. No one would take her away.

“You know you have to face some punishment for running away, don’t you. I’ve been trying to find you for a while. Almost five years now. How did you manage to stay hidden for so long? Must be your odd obsession with shapeshifting. But you can blame you when you look like, well, that.” Nicole taunted, yanking down Nix’s hood and exposing her ears. They were pressed flat against her head in fear.

“I’m sorry.” Nix muttered.

“Sorry’s not good enough.” Nicole said, as she reached into a pocket on her belt and pulled out a bracelet.

Nix recognized it and pressed herself into the tree in fear. “Please, no.”

“I want to be able to trust you.” Nicole said. “To do that I need this, especially after you broke my trust so much.”

She fastened the bracelet around Nix’s wrist with a spell and Nix slumped. She was cut off from her magic, completely powerless in front of Nicole.

Nicole grinned and pulled Nix to her feet. “Come on, let's go home. We have so much catching up to do.”

Nix woke up with an arm wrapped around her, tight. It wasn’t right. It was t Zug or Fy. Nix’s memories slowly returned, warped slightly by the effects of magic. She instinctively reached for her own, but was cut off. Nicole, the bracelet. She wasn’t going back. She had beaten Nicole once, she could do it again. She wouldn’t control her again.

Nix first tried to slip out of Nicole’s grass, but that wasn’t happening. Force it was. Nix drove her elbow back, causing Nicole to wake with a start and also release her grip. Nix extended her claws and lunged. Nicole was still waking up, and Nix’s claws hit their mark, slashing open Nicole’s chest.

The pain and adrenaline now rushing through her system woke Nicole up. She snarled, drawing a dagger and lunging. Nix blocked it with her arm the blade sinking in before she managed to get out of the blade's reach.

On the next slash, Nix grabbed Nicole’s arm, yanking her forwards, dragging her claws across Nicole’s back. Nicole howled in pain.

Good. Nix needed to keep her distracted so she couldn’t use her magic.

She kicked Nicole in the back, knocking her to the ground. She went to follow up but Nicole rolled over bringing her blade back up and driving it into Nix’s thigh. Nix struck back, her claws slashing Nicole’s throat before she stumbled away.

She had no magic and she was bleeding and lost. She couldn’t remember exactly where Nicole had taken her. Damn manipulative mind magic.

She wasn’t dead yet. She would figure something out. She could guess at where Zughei and Fymeh were. If they even wanted to talk to her after she snapped at Fymeh.

She scanned the small camp and spotted where Nicole had put her stuff she painfully crouched to grab her things. She wasn’t sticking around in case Nicole managed to recover. She took just enough time to pull the dagger out and hastily bandage the wound before she was off, limping through the woods in the general direction of Zughei and Fymeh.

She restrained her things as she walked. She didn’t have any more bandages for her arm, so she settled for gripping it tightly with her other hand.

She wasn’t sure how long she walked. She just kept herself moving. She couldn’t count on Nicole being dead. She had to at least get away from her even if she couldn’t find the others.

With the sole goal of getting away, Nix pushed herself past her exhaustion. It wasn’t just from being injured. Being magically manipulated took its toll and she still couldn’t reach her magic. That combined with walking through rough terrain for the past few hours didn’t bode well.

When she heard something - or somebody - large approaching it was all she could do to duck behind a tree. Hand still tightly clenched around her other arm.

The person walked past, but Nix recognized those green wings.

“Zughei.” Nix gasped.

Zughei spun around. “Nix! What the hell! Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” Nix retorted.

“Red dingoes hunt at dawn.” Zughei said, even as she stepped closer, taking in Nix’s injuries.

“Blue doves sing at dusk.” Nix replied. “Look I’m really sorry. I - this is going to sound lame, but I was being manipulated by magic.”

“You’re right that does sound lame.” Zughei said. “But you can explain yourself later. We need to get you healed first. I’m carrying you and flying. We’ll go faster.”

Nix didn’t argue, letting Zughei pick her up as she quickly took off, flying just above the trees before diving back down and landing in the campsite.

“What’d you get?” Fymeh asked, before turning around. “Nix? What happened?”

“Heal first, interrogate later.” Zughei said, as she set Nix down.

“It’s just my leg and arm.” Nix said. “I would’ve healed them but this damn bracelet is cutting me off from my magic.”

“Why would you put it on then?” Fymeh asked.

Nix sighed. “I didn’t.”

“Questions later.” Zughei repeated, grabbing bandages.

Fymeh listened this time and got to work on Nix’s thigh, applying a slave to the wound while Zughei cleaned off Nix’s arm.

“That’s a nasty cut.” She muttered.

Nix didn’t say anything, gritting her teeth as Zughei began suturing the wound. They could carry tools for bandaging from the cities, but anesthetics took up too much space. Nix often used magic to heal and wasn’t used to sutures, but she grit her teeth and remained silent.

Fymeh has finished with her leg, and was now looking at the bracelet on Nix’s wrist, inspecting it. But she got distracted by the sight of dried blood caked around Nix’s nails. She slowly extended on of her nails, and her suspicions were confirmed. Whatever had attacked Nix, she had attacked back with those sharp claws. The claws she let them play with, had been out to use. Fymeh had the realization of just how deadly Nix was.

Zughei finished up, and sat back. “Now, start talking.”

Nix sighed, she knew this was coming, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “I have this really crappy ex. She found me yesterday when I was out hunting. We exchanged a few words, but it was long enough for her to cast one of her spells on me. It altered my outlook. It implements itself slowly, so by the time I had finished rescuing Fymeh and snapped at her and disappeared. It had taken full effect. It left me vulnerable and she found me again. I woke up and the spell had worn off but she was holding onto me. We got into a fight. I grabbed my stuff and got away.”

Nix avoided the specifics. They didn’t need to know those.

“You didn’t think to mention this crazy ex before?” Zughei asked.

“I left her five years ago. I thought she was finally gone.” Nix sighed. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

“Five years...” Fymeh muttered. “Who is she?”

“A witch that use magic to manipulate those around her so she can control them.” Nix answered, dejectedly.

“How long were you together?” Zughei dared to ask.

“I’ve known her since I was little, but we weren’t a thing until academy.” Nix answered.

“How long was she....” Zughei trailed off.

Nix shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “I thought I’d finally escaped her, but she came back. She controlled me all over again. I’m still just as powerless, just as weak as I was before.”

“You’re not weak.” Fymeh asserted. “You know what those witches told me while I was locked up with them?”

“What?” Nix asked, hesitant.

“That you were the most powerful one at the academy. That you could fight, and you knew how to shapeshift - the hardest magic - easily. I’ve seen you do it. You slip from one form to the next as easily as you breathe.” Fymeh said, taking Nix’s hand and holding it.

Nix didn’t know how to respond, so she just squeezed Fymeh’s hands.

“If I ever meet her I will kill her with my bare hands.” Zughei threatened. “I will tear her limb from limb.” She also grabbed Nix’s other hand. “You’re safe with us. We’ll protect you.”

“Thank you.” Nix sobbed, leaning into them.

“Now, let's get this bracelet off you.” Fymeh said. “I know how much you hate being without your magic.

“It’s sealed with magic.” Nix mumbled. “There’s no point.”

“Magic shmagic, brute force can do it.” Zughei said, and with a look from Fymeh added. “And with some cool alchemy stuff from Fy.”

Zughei still grabbed her axe and Nix’s arm. Nix immediately pulled her arm back.

“I would like to keep my hand, thank you.”

Zughei just smiled, but she set her axe down. She did grab Nix’s dagger though and tried to cut it off. The bracelet didn’t give. Zughei sighed.

“It’s fine. We’ll figure something out.” Nix said.

“I figured something out.” Fymeh said, at almost the same time, holding up a potion. “Magic neutralizer.”

She poured it over the bracelet, the green liquid fizzing as it hit the fabric.

“Now try it.” Fymeh said, and Zughei brought the dagger up again and it cut it easily.

Nix breathed a sigh of relief as she felt her magic return. She immediately healed her wounds. She was still exhausted though, and despite the high sun she just wanted to sleep.

“I’m sorry. I’m really tired.” Nix muttered.

“Sleep.” Zughei said. “We’ll watch over you.”

“Thank you.” Nix muttered as she lay back on the bedroll.

She fell asleep almost instantly.

#abuse #abusive ex #shapeshifter #magic #writing #gay #polyamory #not edited #fighting #injury #anime cat #anime cat with friends

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 6 years

Text

Only For A Moment Ch. 34

Only For A Moment Master List

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Feels, fluff, cute shit.

A/N: Muh babies. Muh reader (who I call Jude for anyone that cares). Just... I really want them to be happy. Y’all gotta know that. Like I have fucking FEELINGS for these characters. It sucks lol.

Just a heads up. Y’all may be getting a real beefy chapter 34 next week. I know most of these have been pretty short thus far (clocking in under 2k words) but I’m having a hard time finding the right place to cut it. SO let me know: Do you like that these chapters are shorter? Do you want beefier chapters? I wanna know!

Love y’all!!!

Tags are open!

The feeling of his lips on your palm sends shivers up your spine. You want those lips, that mouth… everywhere. But it’s far from time for that.

No matter how much you think you can’t pinpoint what may have set him off. Maybe something out on the job today? Too many people?

“Buck…” You can’t seem to form the words, not wanting to pry but your concern sits heavy in your chest.

He smiles, you’re surprised to see it reach his eyes, “The pie,” your brows knit in confusion. “I… my Ma used to make apple pie all the time… the smell just… caught me off guard is all. Lot’s of memories.” Gently he strokes your face with his right fingers, “Good memories.”

You can’t help but smile even though your heart is breaking for him, “Do… do you want some? Made fresh coffee too.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he looks down at his dirty clothes. “Let me change first.” Lowering yourself to the floor you move out of his way.

When the bathroom door closes you stare at it for a second worry eating at you. Even good memories could hurt… especially when they were linked to loss. You knew that all too well. It kills you a little that it hit him so hard.

This just solidifies a thought you had earlier in the day. He needs a phone if he doesn’t have one. If he had one you could have told him you were making a pie. It would have been passing to you but he could have mentally prepared maybe. Not to mention the less innocuous reasons to have a way to contact one another.

You’re moving the tall stack of CDs and the laptop from the table when he comes out. The white tee strains over his chest as his muscles subtly move under the fabric while he dries his hands on a small towel. Its hem skims the top of the loose jeans slung low on his hips. You swallow hard and turn back to your task.

“What’s all this?” He asks with a smile.

“Your musical education.” You set the laptop and CDs on the counter by the stove before turning to get you both pie and coffee. “Or the beginning of it.”

He laughs a little picking up the top CD, Queen’s greatest hits. “I liked whatever you had on earlier.”

“I should hope so,” you turn back to him smirking, “if not we would be having some serious problems. Queen is non-negotiable.”

“Noted. Here,” he comes over and grabs the plates with a slice each, carrying them to the table.

You follow with the coffee, “I haven’t made pie in years,” you sit across from him, “so don’t judge it too harshly.”

A half smile lifts his lips, “I have no doubt it’ll be amazing.” He reaches across the table, his fingers grazing the back of your hand wrapped around the mug, “Thank you.”

“It’s just pie,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “but you’re welcome.”

He takes a bite, eyes closing as he savors it, and you anxiously wait for feedback. When his eyes open, he catches your stare. He laughs, “Are you gonna watch me eat the whole thing?”

“Just nervous,” you grumble, shoving a bite in your own mouth, mostly for the distraction. Honestly, it’s pretty damn good.

“It’s great just like I knew it would be, and you,” he points with his fork, “are ridiculous.”

“I thought you said ‘amazing’,” you say over a mouth full.

This earns you a laugh, “It’s amazing. Better?”

You shake your head “I suppose.”

For a bit you sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the treat. You chase a large bit of flaky crust with a gulp of coffee before asking, “Do you have a phone?”

He raises a brow, “That’s out of left field. But… No? Haven’t had a need… Why?”

“Thought it may be good for us to have some way to get in touch. Like if one of us runs late or if there’s pie waiting,” Or if the group of Nazis who tortured us for years shows up. You know you don’t have to say the last bit. It’s implied.

He nods, “Good point.” Taking another bite he looks pensive. “Phones are easy to track though.”

“Not if you set ‘em up right,” you pull yours from your back pocket. “If anyone tracks this it’ll ping them to Africa. Hacked it myself. We can do the same to yours.”

“Sounds good. Should come up with some shorthand too. Make sure we can communicate a lot of info quickly if we need to.”

“Definitely. Tomorrow?”

“I got more stuff to do on the job,” you notice his eyes avoid yours. Interesting.

“Ok, I can grab one, get it set up.” You stand to wake up the laptop, “For now though, it’s time for school.”

By 10pm you’ve made a simple meal, the whole pie is gone, and you’ve given him a thorough history lesson on why Queen is inarguably one of the best bands of the 20th century. He sees the appeal, though some songs, such as Bicycle, give him pause. Now you’ve moved on to Fleetwood. Another non-negotiable.

His head is resting on the arm of the couch, body stretched out, legs dangling off the other end. You’re on the floor, back against the couch. Gently he runs the fingers of his right-hand through the short crop of your hair as the album Fleetwood Mac plays. Rhiannon is wrapping up and you’re half a world away in your mind, spinning on a rooftop with ghosts. His voice, soft and drowsy, pulls you back to this little apartment in Romania.

“This makes me think of you” Bucky’s fingers pause, and a smile warms his half-closed eyes before he yawns.

Your heart tightens a little. Nix would call you Rhiannon sometimes, he knew what you could do so anything witchy he’d lovingly associate with you. You aren’t at a place to divulge this though, it’s too real, too personal.

“You look tired.” He nods. You were already in a pair of leggings you’d bought earlier and a tee, perfect sleepwear. “Come to bed,” you grab his hand and gently tug him in the direction of the mattress but he doesn’t budge.

“I’m ok here,” you give him a look. He is not a small man and it is a small couch.

“You are not.”

“Really, this is fine.”

You sigh, if he didn’t want to share a bed that was fine but there’s no way you’re letting him sleep like that. If he even can. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sleep on the bed, I can take the couch, I’m shorter.”

“Y/N-” You roll your eyes, cutting him off by wrapping your power around him and lifting him just a touch. His eyes meet yours, awestruck.

“Don’t make me move you. I can,” you smirk.

“I almost want to make you,” he grins mischievously, “just to see if you really can.”

You raise an eyebrow. Without ceremony, you will him up and let him plop hard onto the mattress with a thud. It was always easier when you were doing it for fun. He looks genuinely surprised.

“How do you think I got you in my squat after knocking you out?” His head is on your pillow and you yank it from under him with your power sending it floating to the couch.

He laughs, “I didn’t think about it honestly. It’s pretty damn impressive.”

“I know,” you wink. “You gonna sleep in your jeans?”

“If I say yes are you going to threaten to strip me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He reaches up from his spot on the bed and gently rubs the back of your calf with his left hand, fingers squeezing slightly. For a second you think he is going to tempt you, your mouth practically waters at the thought, but a shadow covers his features.

“I think I can handle that,” he gives you a halfhearted smile before getting up and going to the bathroom.

Disappointment wraps around you. Picking up your copy of Frankenstein from the table you cozy yourself on the couch. You finished it earlier today but had started again, from the beginning immediately. It had been a while since words had brought you a strange sense of comfort like this.

Bucky comes out in just his boxers and you force yourself to not stare, to not want what he so clearly wasn’t offering. He walks over to you and you allow him a warm smile. Something is troubling him, you don’t want to add your worry and disappointment to his shoulders.

When he cups your upturned face in his hands your heart skips a beat. His eyes are more grey, stormy though not cold, and you can’t quite read the emotion in his face. Instead of trying to make sense you cover his hands with your own and just savor the feeling of his touch.

He leans down and you hold your breath, hungry for his lips. But they only press against your forehead tenderly. Now you can read the emotion on his face as easily as the book at your side. Sadness and disappointment.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” His smile is tight, his eyes glistening. As he pulls away it takes every ounce of strength you have to not pull him to you, to not kiss him, hold him, try to calm the sea of hurt in him.

“Sleep well, Buck.” He doesn’t say anything else, just lays down with his back to you.

You flip the light off, no longer in the mood to read, and lay down too. For a few minutes, you watch the steady rise and fall of his breathing, your mind working over everything.

He had been distant since his flashback. Every touch extra gentle, almost every action thought out. Then, despite all the kindness he’d shown you, he seemed shocked you accepted the key to his place. It’s as if he’s just waiting for you to run screaming… You realize that’s exactly what he’s waiting for.

“Bucky,” your voice is soft, not wanting to startle or wake him if he is asleep.

“Hmm?” Drowsy but still conscious.

“I want you to know, I meant it before. I’m not afraid of you...” Silence thunders in the space. You know he heard you…

“I know,” his tone is measured. Relief floods your system for a second before he follows with, “I’m scared enough for the both of us.”

@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @souless-and-sarcastic @saundrasays @breezy1415 @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barnes @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen @handplucked @piensa-bonito @darkdragonphoenix @issanitydead @thestorydetective @buckysstar @wintersoldierswhore @greyeyedsmile14 @watchoutforfrostbite @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @meg-asaur @jewelofwinter @siriuslycloudy2

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic

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auburnfamilynews · 5 years

Link

Vasha Hunt-USA TODAY Sports

Gus Malzahn and the boys made their way to Hoover today!

Auburn’s cadre of Gus Malzahn, Derrick Brown, Marlon Davidson, and Prince Tega Wanogho arrived at the Wynfrey Hotel for the final day of SEC Media Days this morning, and while nothing super groundbreaking was made known, there were some interesting tidbits nonetheless.

If you recall, during bowl preparations and after the supposed move to replace Gus as head coach of the football team, the head man got a little... uh... fiesty at times. He became cocky Gus, Swaggy G, Arthur Gustavo if you will, and it paid off in the Music City Bowl as Auburn set record after record in the obliteration of Purdue.

Maybe he knows something that we don’t know. Maybe he sees the ghost of Cameron Jerrell Newton in Joey Gatewood’s eyes and knows that #Greatwood is destined for something huge. Maybe he sees the senior leadership in the trenches on both sides of the ball. Maybe he sees the schedule with key home games dotting the landscape of a slate that’ll never be easy. This quote says a lot about being more self-aware than people have given him credit for recently:

“I’ve got a job that expects to win championships, and I expect to win championships,” Malzahn said. “I knew that when I signed up for it. In the years that we win championships, it’s good. The years we don’t, it’s hot seat this, hot seat that. ... We expect to win championships. I’m very excited about this year.”

Either way, Gus has broken out of his shell a little bit. Maybe he’s pissed off. Maybe he’s mad at himself for giving up the playcalling. He was the guy making the calls during the hugely-successful early run of his time at Auburn, and he took over again against Purdue. The result? 63 points.

SEC Media Days Follow along as the Auburn Tigers take over #SECMD19! #WarEagle X #RidefortheBrand pic.twitter.com/FxjhvBRc8g

— Auburn Football (@AuburnFootball) July 18, 2019

See: Swaggy G.

Let’s dive in to what he had to say in front of the press today...

First question comes in regard to facing one of the toughest schedules in the country without having the quarterback battle settled.

Gus says that we’ve had to play the toughest schedule in the country pretty much every year, but that he hasn’t gotten too much into the actual starting QB yet because we have a chance to be really good around him, whoever he is. Thankfully there’s room to learn at the start of the year provided the Tigers can get by Oregon.

We get a question about not beating LSU in Baton Rouge since 1999 almost right off the bat.

And Gus refers to the 2017 game, which was one of the most heartbreaking losses that he’s experienced. Then he talks about last year. Both of those losses were ones wherein Auburn held a double-digit lead before LSU made a comeback. Personally, a win over the Bayou Bengals in Baton Rouge to break that ridiculous losing streak would go a long way for Gus to keep his spot even if we didn’t beat some of the biggies down the stretch.

Does it invigorate you going back to your roots in calling plays, and what’s the back story about reaching that decision to take over the responsibility?

Gus mentions that he’s been calling plays his whole life, but bad advice led him to relinquish control. Once Chip Lindsey left, Gus pretty much took the mantra of “IF YOU WANT IT DONE RIGHT, YOU GOTTA DO IT YOURSELF” as he got back into the groove and got back to being himself.

Someone wants to follow up about a new offensive coordinator, asking about Kenny Dillingham.

Gus needed to find someone who had a similar philosophy when it came to offense that he did, and Dilly was in the same situation advising a play-calling head coach in Mike Norvell at Memphis, so the fit was perfect.

Now we get a question about comparing Gatewood and Bo Nix and how the offense will change when each is out there.

Apparently there’s not much difference (at least publicly) at this time in their skill sets. Both can run, and both can extend plays, and Gus mentions that it’s always easier calling plays for a running threat. Now, based on what happened in 2010 and 2013, when Gus had his only two true dual-threat guys, it took a few games to warm up into what really became the offense. This year we’ve even got a bit of a quarterback controversy, so I’m very interested to see exactly what happens if Gus’ play-calling isn’t quite in the groove yet and we don’t get to see the offense that complements one quarterbacks skill to the highest potential.

Linebackers are being replaced, but we have seven starters back on defense.

Gus talks about the defensive line first and how good they’ll be, and that the linebackers aren’t going to experience a ton of drop-off thanks to guys playing some in relief last year and having good springs. There’s also a chance to have the best defense he’s had since his time at Auburn. This is a sentiment I can get behind. All we need to see is pretty solid play from the linebackers and this unit is going to be tough to move on. The defensive line will eat nearly everyone on the schedule, and there’s experience in the back end with speed to burn.

Next we get a question about the improvement of the running game.

Here’s an area where Auburn simply wasn’t great last year, due in large part to injuries and inexperience on the offensive line. However, Gus turns it around and talks about how throwing the football down the field — no more screen passes :-( — is an important element of what they want to do. He points to the bowl game again as evidence. In 2017, the deep ball was a huge part of the offense, and it was a backbreaker in many of the wins. We didn’t see it much last year with any success, Get back to the long ball and we’ll be a force.

Now we have a question about tuning out the external noise.

Gus talks about the leadership and experience that guys don’t allow that kind of stuff to happen.

Here’s a Kevin Steele question about how his relationship with the defense encouraged guys to come back for another year.

Gus tells the assembled media that the big idea behind Brown and others coming back was unfinished business and getting degrees. He does say that the core of the team is rooted in the group that decided to come back and eschew the NFL. You don’t come back just to play another year, but to have a successful season.

Any rising players that are becoming leaders on and off the field?

Auburn hasn’t had any real off-field issues in quite some time, and Gus says that there’s a good group of leaders, especially seniors and guys that have taken starting jobs already.

Any time table for naming a starting quarterback?

Not really. This ain’t Jarrett Stidham in 2017 when everyone knew that he would start.

Quarterbacks football IQ? How does Bo Nix compare being so young?

Everyone is hungry to learn, and there’s a healthy relationship between Bo and Joey. They’re both desperate to be the best they can be, but whichever one starts against Oregon won’t have any college football experience. That’s why it’s important to have the support around the quarterback position.

In other statements, Gus made sure to note that everyone was running some form of the HUNH that he popularized over a decade ago. Even teams that poo-pooed those that wanted to go quicker in the past made changes and are implementing hurry-up techniques. We’re basically one step away from Gus foregoing “Bullcrap” as his go-to curse, and slapping Nick Saban with a string of profanity that would make Will Muschamp blush.

I'm not sure anyone is catching this stuff, but Gus is firing some shots at people during this press conference. Just mentioned hurry-up offenses and how teams even with "health issues" now run it.

— Brandon Marcello (@bmarcello) July 18, 2019

Elsewhere, everyone from this latest recruiting haul is on campus, including grad transfers from Youngstown State and Arizona State —

Auburn HC Gus Malzahn told local media earlier that Youngstown State transfer WR Zach Farrar will report today + OL signee Kamaar Bell arrived earlier this week. Arizona State HB/TE transfer Jay Jay Wilson has been on campus for "a month or two." Auburn's incoming class is set.

— Justin Ferguson (@JFergusonAU) July 18, 2019

Stay tuned here for a depth chart look, courtesy of AU Nerd, because the first string can play with anyone in the country. We need to know how depth is going to be established during fall camp before we can predict some really special things for this team.

To finish up, we got one piece of nice news that’ll help to put the Tigers on the map if they can take care of business against Oregon in Arlington.

Can't wait for this one @CollegeGameDay Week 1: @AuburnFootball x @oregonfootball pic.twitter.com/87Ko93WWLh

— ESPN (@espn) July 18, 2019

It’ll be the 19th time that College Gameday has been present for an Auburn game, with the last one coming in 2017 for the Iron Bowl — you know, the “Kick Ass”. Let’s get more of that in about six weeks.

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/7/19/20699617/sec-media-days-notes-and-reaction

#IFTTT #Blogger #auburn #auburn fast #wareagle #AuburnFamilyNews #war eagle #sec #football news #aubu

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