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the-fiction-witch · 3 months ago

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Sick

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - 15 + Word Count - 1130

Benny sat in his leather chair, inside his Brooklyn basement, it was cold and grey as usual, the only light was the small lamp beside his chair and the occasional rays of light from car headlines coming through the small basement windows, in Benny's hand his new chess strategy book that arrived in the mail.

Slowly the door to the bedroom opened with a whine, and Y/n emerged. Y/n walked across the apartment barefoot, in her small black silk babydoll nightie, her hair in a long dishevelled braid, her face sickly with red eyes and nose,

Benny looked up from his chess book. a smile came to his lips as he watched her, he secretly loved taking care of her, even if he hated seeing her sick in the first place. "Hey, sweetheart..."

she didn't answer, Y/n just trudged over and without a word climbed herself onto his lap sharing the chair with him, her legs between his own, sitting on his thigh, her head against his shoulder, her nose against his neck,

he chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close against his chest, gently rubbing her back in comforting circles as he spoke "Are you feeling any better?"

she shook her little head

his expression softened so he continued to rub her back gently, holding her close to him as he nuzzled his face against her head, pressing a soft little kiss to her hair, "Poor sweetheart..."

Without a word, she moved closer biting his neck,

Benny let out a soft gasp as she bit down on his neck, and when she started sucking a quiet noise came out from deep in his throat. he held her a little tighter, gently rubbing her back as he tilted his head a bit to give her easier access to his neck. he continued rubbing her back with one hand, the other slowly sliding down and gently grabbing her hip. he gently squeezed it as he breathed out a little moan, a subtle look of pleasure on his face as she sucked on his neck. He let out another little gasp as she sucked a little harder, closing his eyes as he savoured the feeling of her lips on his skin. The hand on her hip gently kneaded the flesh there as he spoke in a hushed tone "That feels nice, baby… he tilted his head to the side again, letting her have more access to his neck. He groaned quietly again as she kept sucking on his neck, the hand on her hip slowly sliding under her nightie, gently rubbing and gripping the flesh on her thigh

She pushed his hand away forcing it out from under her nightie as she pulled away and nuzzled into his neck,

He let out a quiet noise of protest, making him pout a little bit. He gently rubbed her back again, trying to gently pull her nightie back down. He whispered in her ear, a soft little hint of a whine in his voice "Baby... I just wanna touch you..."

"too... Sick.." she groans

Benny gently rubbed her back again, holding her close to his chest as he spoke in a quiet, almost soothing tone "I know, sweetheart. But I just wanna make you feel good..."

"cuddles make me feel better" she muttered,

Benny gently kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter as he held her close and spoke in a low whisper "I can definitely do that for you, sweetheart. You just stay right here and I'll take care of you." he gently shifted her so that she was sitting more comfortably against his chest, settling back into the chair and getting a little more comfortable himself. he continued to rub her back gently, moving his hand up to gently run his fingers through her hair as he spoke in a low, soothing tone "Just relax, baby. I'm here. I got you."

"Benny?"

he continued to gently run his fingers through her hair, rubbing her back. he gently nuzzled his nose against her ear as she spoke, responding with a gentle hum, his voice barely above a whisper "Yeah, sweetheart? What is it?"

"am I gonna die..." She asked her voice groggy from her sickness

he froze briefly when she asked if she was going to die. his heart sank at the question and he immediately pulled her closer against him, gently gripping her a little tighter as he spoke in a soft, reassuring tone "What? No, no, sweetheart. Of course you're not going to die. You're just a little sick, that's all. You're gonna be just fine. I promise."

"... Would you be sad if I died?"

he froze again at that question, his heart sinking even further at the thought of her dying. he gripped her tighter again as he replied in a quiet, urgent tone, almost sounding a little panicked "Of course I would, sweetheart. I would be devastated if anything happened to you. I love you. You're not gonna die, alright? You're gonna be fine."

"what if I came back and haunted you as a ghost?"

he paused for a few seconds, taking in the question. he let out a quiet, nervous chuckle before replying in a somewhat shaky tone, trying to sound as calm as possible for her sake "If... If you came back as a ghost, I'd still love you. I don't care if you're alive or dead. I'll always love you."

"Even If I was a spooky ghost always poking your butt?"

"Even if you were a spooky ghost always poking my butt... And scaring me to death. I'd still love you. I'd let you poke my butt as much as you wanted."

"... Can I poke as much as I want when I'm alive?"

he couldn't help but laugh a little more at that, "You can poke my butt as much as you want. Any time, anywhere. It's all yours, baby."

Y/n slightly smiled in her weak sick state moving her hand to poke his butt

he let out a playful, slightly exaggerated gasp, a wide grin on his face as he chuckled softly "Oh, is that how we're playing now? I know you're sick and all, but I might just have to punish you for that, sweetheart."

"no, too sick for punishment"

he pouted, though the playful sparkle in his eyes "Mmm... I don't know... You're still poking my butt when you're supposed to be relaxing... Seems like a punishable offense to me. Sick or not, I still might have to punish you. Fair is fair, sweetheart."

"nooo too sick" she whines

he chuckled again, still pouting as he let out a dramatic sigh and spoke with a mock-surrendered tone "Fine, fine. I won't punish you. But only because you're so sick and pathetic and adorable. You're lucky this time, but don't think I won't punish you when you're better." he winked,

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pmpmyread · 25 days ago

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Ergo Sum // A Destiny 2 fanfic

My contribution to #Destinytober24 for the Ergo Sum prompt!

Summary: In which Eris Morn thinks, therefore she is. Pairing: The Drifter x Eris Morn Content Tags: SFW, Slow Romance, Hurt/Comfort. Eris reflects on Hive godhood, Drifter cooks, Ikora Rey is mentioned. Takes place shortly after the events of Season of the Witch. WC: 3.5k [Also on AO3]

As she strode along the path that paralleled the abandoned human outpost now known as the Anchor of Light, Eris Morn tightened the collar of her cloak, shielding herself from the brisk gusts of crisp lunar night air. For the second time within the hour, she contemplated retracing her steps back to her quarters; for the second time, she submitted to the small voice within her that urged her to keep going.

Today marked two weeks since she’d self-secluded herself to her old stomping grounds, three since her final transformation back from the Hive form she’d borrowed.

“Tea and silence,” she had told the Guardian, expressing her simplest yet most sincere desires following her daunting undertaking.

Ikora Rey had prescribed some much-needed time off the field for her dear friend, and for the first time since she could remember, Eris had actually heeded her advice, taking what must have been her first true break from any Vanguard, or Hive-related activities since she emerged from the Hellmouth all those years ago.

And so, much to the Warlock Vanguard’s relief, Eris found herself facing the opportunity to indulge in copious amounts of tea, accompanied by a few days of serene silence, the likes of which she had not experienced in decades.

This made Ikora’s guilt even more apparent when she had to call Eris into the Tower for help on yet another crisis, a mere few days later.

“I would not dare interrupt your much-deserved rest,” Ikora had said, her dismay audibly apparent to Eris. “However, I’m afraid this recent development requires your expertise, and it unfortunately cannot wait.”

The whirlwind of events that followed involved the discovery of an Ahamkara egg by the Guardian, the subsequent unveiling of a fifteenth and final wish, and a multiple hours-long planning session with Ikora and Mara Sov.

As much as she’d wished it to be unlikely, the realization of Savathûn having at least one card left in her sleeve did not surprise Eris. Over her last years of comprehensive research supplemented by her short yet consequential stint as a Hive god, she had grown intimate with their logics, their rules, and their decrees. She was cognizant of the weight her strikes against both Savathûn and Xivu Arath carried, of the grievous offence that her gambit constituted. But where Xivu’s moves could be more predictable, it was Savathûn’s next ploy that truly kept Eris agitated, particularly considering this new twist, which veered off anything she could have anticipated.

Throughout the day, she had served as the voice of reason, and attempted to counterbalance her more reckless colleagues; the Warlock Vanguard and the Awoken Queen had both become so engrossed with crossing the portal into the Pale Heart that Eris felt like they were no longer hearing her. She feared they were moving perhaps too quickly, without carefully evaluating all angles of the situation before them.

Ikora had briefly acknowledged her reservations while also citing the contingency they had in Immaru’s captivity. While Eris agreed with this, a smaller, shrill voice sounded an alarm, as she could not help but wonder, deep down: what if they were playing right into a larger subterfuge by the Hive god of cunning?

Following a long day of deliberation, the three of them settled on a sensible, albeit not ideal course of action, one that relegated Eris to off-site support, assigned Osiris as the Vanguard liaison, and involved Mara striking a bargain with Riven.

As calm and measured as she had managed to remain throughout the day’s events, extinguishing some of the fires Mara and Ikora risked starting with their more radically imperative approach, Eris had left the meeting in shrouded disquiet.

It was in this frame of mind that she’d made her way towards the Derelict parked by the Tower’s annex, a scheduled stop to attend what had unofficially become a weekly dinner with the Drifter, an inadvertent routine that had settled between them.

The rogue Lightbearer would have all the ingredients out in his kitchen area; Eris would meticulously prep the ingredients, and the Drifter would dexterously transform them into delectable dishes over which the pair would lend a supportive ear to one another. Their growing relationship was ever the odd contradiction, and yet, over time, they had grown familiar and even comfortable within this complementary dance.

That evening, it was over a warm bowl of pineapple fried rice that he had granted her the space she needed, as she unloaded weeks of pent-up worries and doubts. She verbalized her warring thoughts, describing the mental crash she’d felt after reaching the inimitable high of achieving an apotheosis-fuelled level of vengeance, only to be thrown out of the ashes of one conflict, straight into another. She confided her unease with the constant increase in stakes of the escalation in risks as they barrelled towards an inevitability, one she needed not to spell out to the Drifter, who had listened intently before chiming in.

As she relived the tenderness by which he’d crossed the implicit physical barrier between them for the first time, pulling her into a comforting hug, her breath hitched ever so slightly.

“I remember what you said. I think about it more than I should these days.”

“What did I say?”

“That we’ll live in the night if we have to. We do it for what comes after.”

As she replayed this part of his exchange with the Drifter in her mind, which had opened with his considerate and appropriate usage of her own past advice into the current context to assuage her, her brisk walk along Archer’s Line slowed to a trudge.

“So this is where you wish to be,” she said cautiously. “At the end of all things?”

“Nowhere else.”

“No more schemes to leave Sol?”

Weeks removed from the moment, Eris could still vividly remember her futile attempts to mask the nervousness beneath her composed facade as she clung to him, the tremors in her voice and her fingers as she heard herself ask a sincere question that she tried - and failed- to disguise as a playful quip, the bated breath she was holding as if everything inside her balanced on the edge of some invisible cliff waiting for his answer.

“Nah,” he said, and looked into her eyes. “I’d miss the moonlight.”

She would have replied if she could have trusted herself to speak. Instead, she’d stood in stunned silence, heat creeping up to her face in response to his quiet confession, just as it was now, quickly counteracting any cooling effect from the cool lunar night air.

When had the Drifter managed to disarm her so efficiently?

She’d found herself, in the two weeks that followed, pondering on this question as she clutched what was more often than not a warm cup of Sencha green tea. Once upon a time, when they both still only circled each other warily, Eris would have dismissed his usual flighty comments with ease.

The familiarity that had since settled between them, symptomatic of their budding bond which had only strengthened since their Stasis training on Europa and during which they’d both served as each other’s support system, had strengthened far beyond simply dispelling the formalities that kept them at a distance.

As much as Eris hated to admit it, and despite her best attempts at resistance, the Drifter had carefully chiseled his way through the guarded exterior she’d carefully built over the years in an overabundance of caution. She’d indulged herself in allowing herself to grow closer to him, under the self-imposed condition that she’d only allow him to see what she wanted him to see.

If the uncharacteristic boldness with which she’d reciprocated the Drifter’s overtures on that evening revealed anything, it was that she was more than willing to let him see a very vulnerable side of her.

On this, she surprised even herself.

Eris could not pinpoint whether it was her final transformation back to herself, marking the closing of the proverbial chapter or the rare, extended time off alone with the disjointed thoughts tearing through her brain. But the first time since she emerged from the Hellmouth all those years ago, she now envisioned a real possibility of a tangible future for herself, which came with an equally genuine fear of losing it.

And this juxtaposition terrified her, more than any confrontation she may have with the forces of both Xivu Arath and Savathûn, combined.

As such, in the two weeks that followed, she found herself avoiding the Tower altogether, opting instead to stick to her lunar quarters in solitude, only venturing within the vicinity of her abode as needed. Doubt overwhelmed her mind, as thoughts crowded in, a long succession of them jostling each other, only pausing punctually to make way for the pangs of guilt she felt about breaking the streak for what would have marked a full month of weekly dinners with the Drifter; she’d resorted to withdrawing, citing sudden busyness, which constituted, even if technically through omission, a clouded lie.

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped her lips as the realization crossed her mind. Here she was; a woman who was once akin to a god, yet seemingly unable to face the matters of her own heart.

Part of her missed her stint as a Hive god. It was not the heady feeling of pure, unadulterated power, nor the mental patrolling of the fault line between control and madness nor even the inimitable satisfaction and sated vengeance derived from besting not one but two Hive gods in a single movement that she longed for. It was the momentary feeling of mental clarity and fearlessness that overtook her and which contrasted with the state of doubt she currently felt.

What she’d initially planned to be a short, brisk walk to and back from the landing zone that neighboured her quarters to clear her mind had turned into an impromptu self-imposed patrol on the Moon. The familiar outline of the craterous structure that formed out on the horizon brought her out of her reverie as she realized that her mindless walking had led her to the Hellmouth.

By force of habit, Eris took the exact path she’d taken on her very first patrol in the area, one she had committed to memory and had taken on countless occasions since. This instance, however, differed vastly from that initial mission.

Where Hive once hovered around the underground fortress in large groups, their numbers had since dwindled to a fraction of what they once were.

Where there would habitually be Hive acolytes hovering over Eris, adding to the cacophony of the Nightmares that stalked her relentlessly, there was instead a notable retreat within the combatant forces.

Instead of shrinking back into herself, Eris now stood taller, exuding a newfound sense of confidence evident in her posture and confident strides.

Her recent victory against the Osmium dynasty marked a stoppage of a long continuous, it delineated an era shrouded by an ordeal that preceded her emergence from the Hellmouth all those years ago from am. She truly was changed. Perhaps it was time to accept this.

She spotted the familiar rock shelter up ahead, quickening her pace as she entered the secluded area undetected. As she did, she brushed her fingers alongside the right-hand wall, taking the time to feel the ridges she had committed to memory long ago.

To the unknowing eye, it appeared to be a cavern, formed by what must have been aeolian erosion centuries ago. To Eris, it represented much more, having served as her first refuge on the Moon’s surface upon her emergence from the Hellmouth all those years ago.

She settled herself down, sitting on a slightly elevated rocky structure that had once served as a makeshift cot during her initial patrols on the Moon. She subconsciously fished out her Ahamkara bone from the pouch she’d stored it in, losing herself in the mesmerizing glow that emanated from it.

Cold.

Injured.

Lost.

Armed with nothing but the Ahamkara bone in her left hand and Brya’s now Lightless shell in her right, Eris leans her back against the closest wall in an attempt to situate herself. She can physically feel her body running out of the pure adrenaline that has kept her going so far, replacing any hope that had long since evaporated.

There is no way out.

She slinks down to the ground as she begins to accept this. She knows she is close to the end because, for the first time, her mind ventures not to rehash the past but to imagine a far future, of a faraway dream, an inkling of an idea, an unattainable alternate reality. In what she is sure to be her final moments, she dares to wish something greater for herself of a world where she would not only survive this ordeal, but get a chance at a life worth living. This thought spurs her to instinctively give the bone a light squeeze, eliciting an immediate reaction from it.

“Well, well. Eris Morn,” the bone whispers back to her, calling her by name, beckoning her. Eris stares back at it, drawn by its illuminating glow. When she does not respond, it calls out again.

“Eris…?” This time, more hesitantly, as though it is posing a question.

“Eris!” This time, the distorted voice betrays an undertone of urgency and worry.

A gentle squeeze of her shoulder sent a jolt through her body. Her eyes flew open and her chest rose and fell as she attempted to reorient herself. Eris blinked bewilderedly for a few seconds, scanning the area as her brain registered that she was back in the alcove and realizing that she’d dozed off, that the juxtaposition of her rock and the location must have had transported her mind back to those difficult moments in the corridors underneath the Hellmouth.

It was not until the hand released the grip on her shoulder that Eris turned her attention to her unexpected guest, who she now realized was sitting a bit too close for comfort, in typical Drifter fashion. With a slight tilt of his head, an air of amusement quickly replaced the slightest hint of worry that had settled on the rogue Lightbearer’s expression, but not before Eris noticed it.

How long had she been out? How long had he been here? How did he even find her? The questions crowded her clouded mind, jostling each other to reach the head of the line before she settled on one.

“What are you doing here?” Eris asked.

“Well hello to you too, Moondust!” He replied.

“It appears I was lost in… thought,” she said, more to herself than for him to hear, still visibly shaken by the vividness of her memory.

“You sure look out of it, you know, even more than usual!”

“Hmm. And what is that supposed to mean? ”

“Oh, nothing at all!” He stood up in what seemed to be an effort to change the topic, sauntering about the small alcove, brushing his fingers across the wall as he closed the small distance between himself and leaning his back against the opposite wall.

“It’s a nice little nook you’ve got yourself here! A shame I didn’t get to bring a housewarming gift.”

Eris narrowed her eyes at him, trying but failing to come up with a clever retort, a common occurrence as of late.

Both Guardians stared out at the Hellmouth’s entrance in the distance as a stillness settled between them, with nothing but the lunar night breeze serving as background sound. The Drifter shifted his feet, pulling Eris’ attention back to him. His eyes were unfocused, seemingly lost in his own thoughts in a rare and uncharacteristic moment of silence.

Eris retraced the events of the day that led her in this predicament, which had resulted in her sharing, in a moment of mutual contemplation, what had grown to become her little secluded and sacred area with the man she’d been too scared to face for the better part of two weeks.

And yet, oddly enough, in this moment of peace, none of it felt out of place.

She’d taken some distance from it, and god knows she needed it. But in relishing in the comfort that settled within her, a testament to their unspoken connection, Eris also realized how much she’d missed this.

“Tell me, Germaine, how did you find me?” She asked, mustering up the courage to break the comfortable silence.

When he turned to her, it was with an unreadable expression. She wanted to avert her gaze, but found herself incapable of looking away.

“Three times I went back to that desolate world. Even trekked up within sight of that damn structure, where everything went haywire.”

He didn’t need to elaborate for Eris to understand that he was referring to the incidents surrounding the demise of the crew of humans-turned-guardians he’d traveled with hundreds of years ago, in his early days as a Guardian, a narrative she’d managed to place together through the bits and pieces he’d slowly but surely shared with her as they became more open with each other.

He continued, “Point being, in times of crisis, it’s common to gravitate to something more familiar, however disturbing it may be. You’ve been through a lot lately. I thought to myself, what better place than the Hellmouth for the for the former hive god of vengeance to reflect on her reign?”

His monologue left her speechless. Had she been that easy to read? That train of thought was interrupted when the Drifter came into view, leaning towards her.

“Actually, I tried about seven other locations before getting here. I was just on the point of giving up!” He added.

Eris searched his eyes for a hint of a vestige of the candor he’d just displayed, but the moment appeared to have just escaped her. She nonetheless held onto Drifter’s train of thought, and, as she often did these days when talking with him, felt compelled to elaborate on it.

“I’ve spent so much of my years focusing on survival. I’m just now having to re-learn how to live. Sitting back from this mission with Riven, it’s… forced me to rest and exist in this vacuum of space between wars. I’ve been putting much thought into everything, in this time of low distraction. I’ve contended with darkness for so long that it feels almost familiar, and comfortable. Only now am I getting the chance to wonder what sits on the other side of victory?”

“Look Moondust, I don’t know what sits on the other side, but I’m sure hopeful. We’ve had such a solid run lately. I’m thinking there’s a universe where we run off most of our threats and that hope turns into reality.”

"And what happens when the threats to this hope are no longer external, when this threat now lives within you?"

“In that case, you neutralize that threat, too. And if you can help it,” he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder, “You don’t go at it alone.” And this, so far, was his only allusion to Eris’ recent avoidance of him. Not a reproach, but an invitation.

Even through his thick gloves, the warmth that emanates from his hand sends a comforting warmth through Eris’ body, a sensation that she could only describe as feeling as home.

She was just basking in the moment when he suddenly stood to his feet and picked up two bags she hadn’t noticed were at his feet.

“So, uh, we’re behind one dinner night. Figured we could have it at yours instead of mine.” He said in a cheerful tone that contrasted the serious one he held a few seconds ago, in yet another instance that had Eris wondering if she’d ever get used to his unmatched ability to transition between moods.

“Are you asking or are you inviting yourself?” She asked.

“I’ve seen your attempts at cooking. You and I both know you haven’t had a decent grub in days secluded out here in your quarters. And that you could use both the meal and the leftovers.”

“You are insufferable.” Was the only thing Eris could find to say, as she quickly rose and ducked out of the cave, in an attempt to mask how truly touched she was by Drifter’s gesture.

“I think the words you’re looking for are: Thanks, Drifter!” He called out to Eris, as he took long strides to catch up to her.

“Do not let this get to your head.” She replied, pulling her cloak up to hide the faint smile that was tugging at the corner of her lips.

As soon as they reached Eris’ quarters, the Drifter got to work. He expertly maneuvered around her small space, making an effective cooking station out of her otherwise cramped kitchenette.

As Eris observed the Guardian whose reputation starkly clashed with the man beneath the mask, her thoughts flitted once again, this time to this fire-forged partnership put to the test of a near domestic normalcy.

To what was once such a distant dream echoed while she had her back against the wall, ideas desperately held on to as she resolutely clutched her Ahamkara bone. This time, it was all configured under a different light.

Warm.

Healing.

Seen.

A/N: Massive thanks to @d2artevents for picking up the mantle and hosting #Destinytober24 this year!

#destinytober24 #destinytober #destiny the game #destiny 2 #destiny fanfiction #the drifter #eris morn #drifteris #moonrat #ikora rey #pmpmyread

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brucewaynehater101 · 6 months ago

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Y'all know the song "Million Dollar Baby" by Tommy Richman? When I hear that song, I see Nightwing.

The very beginning ("Do it, baby, do what I should think") is Nightwing dashing between buildings in Bludhaven.

Then, with the lyrics "I could clean up good for you," it switches to Dick Grayson in a suit smirking at the camera. "'Cause I wanna make it," has him surrounded by cameras and a crowd.

A flash from a camera at "Hell nah" switches it back to Nightwing as he crouches on a building. He's about to pounce on a crowd of goons. He drops down into the alley at "I'm at they neck." At "she a bad lil' mama," it shows him dodging and throwing punches.

"I took her Queen's gambit" has him noticing the police sirens in the background. He finishes up and starts running.

"What you mean, 'I changed?'" causes the camera to go around him for a 360 view of him. As it flips to moves to what would be his back, he briefly becomes a winking Robin. The camera hasn't stopped, so it keeps moving around him and switches back to Nightwing by the end of "I've been losing my mind."

He stops on a tall roof, twirling as if to match the lyrics, "I said the city is mine." He stops with his back to the edge of the roof.

Then, with the beat drop during "I ain't never rep a set," he's falling backward off of a building with a sly, blissful grin and his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes are closed as he enjoys the feeling of the wind rushing past him.

#dc comics #dc universe #dick grayson #dc nightwing #dick grayson appreciation post

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galacticrambler · 7 months ago

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I’ll admit that there were multiple parts of the week’s episode of X-Men ’97 that I had to rewind to watch again. I couldn’t believe what I was watching in “Remember It”. This was an incredible episode of television.

I’m absolutely convinced that this was the best episode of Marvel animation that I’ve ever seen. It was absolutely tremendous and unexpected in so many ways. It was also, at least to me, incredibly violent for a Marvel cartoon?

There was so much going on in this episode. It was so dramatic. It was so chaotic. I loved it.

Cyclops/Scott and Jean are on shaky ground. It makes total sense that they would be, but Scott seemingly losing it in the interview with the reporter was wild. Then, Jean kissed Logan, and I about lost my mind. THEN, Jean caught Scott telepathically communicating with Madelyne Pryor.

Over on Genosha, they want Magneto to be their new ruler as they gear up to join the UN. And Rogue had to be his queen? But, what about Gambit and his feelings?

All of this set-up felt like the most dramatic soap opera ever. Cable shows up from the future and briefly speaks with Madelyne where she realizes that is Nathan, her and Scott’s son all grown up, and he disappears.

Then, the sky exploded.

The robot/Sentinel/Master Mold? mash-up always and starts slaughtering mutants. Magneto appears to perish protecting the Morlocks. Gambit finally sacrifices himself killing the Sentinel, dying in the process.

This episode was absolutely insane, and I don’t know how to react right now. So much craziness happened. This was great.

#tv #tv review #disney plus #marvel #mcu #animation #cable #Cyclops #jean grey #gambit #Magneto #rogue #wolverine #xmen 97 #xmen #x men 97

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vigilskeep · 1 year ago

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Other than the whole murder-exile thing, how was Yrsa’s relationship with her brothers?

oh yeah other than the minor fact that one convinced her to murder the other,

i kind of have to preface this with the lore i've invented for their mothers, who in my hcs were all different women. bear with me here. to briefly summarise: yrsa's mother hekkata was the queen of orzammar, king endrin's legitimate wife. trian's mother lady rosdrada was another noblewoman, who endrin took as a consort when queen hekkata initially failed to have children. bhelen's mother gwenef was born artisan caste and was a dressmaker in the queen's retinue until she bore the king a son and was raised to consort

the reason all this is relevant is because they were each very much crafted as their mother's legacies, or at least trian and yrsa were, as both hekkata and rosdrada firmly intended their children to take the crown. they had a tempestuous rivalry, each seeing their child as more legitimate and promising. when trian and yrsa were younger, they were allowed to play as siblings and train together, and there is still some of that fondness there they try to ignore (and often find easy to ignore, considering how irritating they now find each other. but they still fight the exact same way, they have the same laugh). the older they got, the more they were pressured to see each other as competitors, especially by their mothers. that conflict only truly took on its sharpest edge a handful of years before dao, when hekkata died on a deep roads expedition. yrsa abandoned her more relaxed youthful ways, convinced it was her duty to fulfil her mother's wishes and make herself a real challenge for the throne, while trian absorbed his mother's bitterness that, with hekkata gone, endrin still refused to ever take rosdrada as his new queen and confer that legitimacy on trian. (there was actually a scandal over rosdrada pushing too hard for this, leading people to whisper that hekkata's death had been arranged by her too, and rosdrada's loss of favour and reputation meant she has lived a mostly secluded life in the palace ever since. which i mention because it adds to their resentments; they both lost their mothers in different ways and can blame it on each other's.)

bhelen was never seen as a threat in the same way. gwenef was taken under the queen's wing in friendship after she became a consort, having always been part of the queen's retinue, which is why it's natural for yrsa to see bhelen as an ally even when he's serving as trian's second (which, since bhelen obviously resents it, i would read as perhaps a superficial conciliatory measure pushed by endrin? one which is in itself fairly dismissive of bhelen's status). but while the queen was fond of gwenef, gwenef's son's rights were also casually dismissed. because of bhelen's relative youth and gwenef's lower caste origins, it was never expected he would put together serious political backing like the kind hekkata and rosdrada had been preparing since before their children were born, or do anything but be a spare to live his life in service of whichever of his siblings was crowned. while yrsa feels deep down that it will always come down to a fight between her and trian, leading her to reluctantly take the offensive against him in the origin because she believes it an inevitability, she truly never considers bhelen a threat. she's genuinely fond of her little brother, who she was allowed to always consider a sibling, but was also always allowed to ignore. if i wanted to be uncharitable i'd say she was fond in the way you're fond of the family dog: because it's uncomplicated. it never occurs to her that he could make a gambit like this or would want to, just as it never occurs to her not to assume the worst of trian. what she really inherits more than anything from her mother is those fatal mistakes

#yrsa aeducan #sorry for the heavy blocks of lore but this is all so interconnected in my mind there is no way to really talk abt it without the rest #anyway this stuff is all being updated as i go but this is where i think its at rn if that makes sense

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franfranoriola · 2 years ago

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The Rise of Chess in Terms of Popularity

Do you know how to play chess?

Do you know what chess is? Chess is one of the oldest and most well-known board games. It is played between two players using specially made pieces in contrasting colors, usually white and black, on a checkered board. Following White's move, the players take turns switching roles according to predetermined rules, with the goal of forcing the opponent's King, their most important piece, into checkmate—a situation in which it cannot escape capture.

Chess first appeared in India about the 6th century AD and by the 10th century had spread from Asia to the Middle East and Europe. Since at least the 15th century, chess has been known as the “royal game” because of its popularity among the nobility. Rules and set design slowly evolved until both reached today’s standard in the early 19th century. Once an intellectual diversion favoured by the upper classes, chess went through an explosive growth in interest during the 20th century as professional and state-sponsored players competed for an officially recognized world championship title and increasingly lucrative tournament prizes. Organized chess tournaments, postal correspondence games, and Internet chess now attract men, women, and children around the world.

But....why is chess suddenly popular right now?

Chess has always been well-liked, but over the past two years, its appeal has increased more than ever. Every skill level – from Grandmaster to novice – plays and enjoys chess. Chess has also been able to consistently gain momentum and expand its fan base because to its simple to understand rules and global appeal.

The game has fluctuated in popularity throughout its existence, but recently, it's become more popular than ever. Chess games have surged among players both in the real world and on Chess.com, an online virtual platform. Since January 2020, more than 102 million users have signed up through Chess.com, a 238% increase.

There are several contributing factors that brought people to chess over the last two years, but here are three major ones:

The Pandemic

We all probably recall March 2020 with far too much clarity. Everything was shut down by COVID-19, and most people were forced to stay inside their homes. The pandemic briefly replaced TikTok, which caused many people to concentrate on personal development. Many people viewed chess as a mentally demanding means to develop oneself while fortifying their wits.

Traditional sports were also abandoned during the pandemic, so many individuals turned to chess competitions to satisfy their lingering need for competition. Although chess tournaments in person were postponed, many people were still able to participate in or watch events online.

Chess filled the hole left by unexpected boredom and provided an outlet for individuals to escape from the problems facing the globe.

The Internet

Naturally, being confined indoors during the pandemic caused the majority of us to spend more time than we'd like to admit online — corresponding, connecting, cooperating, and trying to feel normal. The internet played a significant role in chess's meteoric rise to popularity since it eliminated the necessity for players to find one other in person. Internet chess classes, competitions, and games have introduced millions of individuals to the game who never would have otherwise. Veteran players also spoke directly to the global chess public using social media and online channels to impart their knowledge. There is also the growing popularity of game streaming. Moreover, chess saw an uptick with the popularity of streaming. The number of chess streamers has increased recently, including Gotham Chess and BotezLive.

And let us not forget the Grandmasters of chess who also streams such as Hikaru Nakamura and the current world champoin, Magnus Carlsen.

The Queen’s Gambit on Netflix

If you haven't already, you should watch The Queen's Gambit on Netflix. An orphaned girl who becomes a chess champion while overcoming addiction and the preconceptions associated with being a female chess player is the subject of the third-most watched TV show of 2020. The series breaks perceptions of a "typical" chess player by being immensely approachable and maybe inspiring more women to participate in the still largely male-dominated sport.

In the first three weeks after the show debuted, sales of chess sets went up by 87 percent, and sales of chess books went up 603 percent! What was it that brought you to chess? I would love to hear it! And if you haven't, maybe its now time to learn and enjoy chess!

#chess

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coiledqueen · 3 months ago

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🎲 WILDCARD for wildcard Dan :3c

🎲 to generate a kiss! (accepting.) WILDCARD GO!! 10. A kiss along the jawline (continued from this)

Somehow, Shay isn't catching on.

After spending a majority of the afternoon trading medicines and tending to her Seviper rehab case together, the Johtoan sanctuary worker didn't bat a suspicious eye when the notoriously prickly Lucy invited her out for drinks afterwards. She didn't even question the Pike Queen's choice of venue, Asharas hesitantly flying them over to Lucy's self-proclaimed favorite, a nondescript dive bar situated on the outskirts of mainland Lilycove. Nope, all was still considered perfectly normal, even when Lucy picked out a corner table for them that was shrouded in shadow--guaranteeing privacy from any prying eyes.

Shay had definitely caught Lucy's attention. The visiting tamer was stoic, refreshingly competitive, and her toned figure was an absolute bonus...but she apparently still had no idea that the Pike Queen had been flirting with her ever since they'd both arrived here. Lucy's murmured compliments and teasing remarks, in one ear and out the other. The way she leaned in close to hear Shay speak--almost too close--was left unacknowledged. Her light touches on the tamer's thigh be damned. Shay--bless her oblivious heart--just wasn't getting it, so a fed-up Lucy opted to pull her last resort: a bet, one last desperate appeal to Shay's competitive nature. No more subtlety. There's no way that this gambit would work, right...?

'...I'll bet you don't have the guts to kiss me. Right here, right now.'

And, in an unexpected flash of motion, everything changes, Lucy stifling an incredulous laugh as she's pulled forward into a rough, fiery kiss. How long had Shay been holding back? How the hell did this bet work out so that the Pike Queen finally got what she wanted? Shay eventually settles back and tries to return to her drink, to a normal, even-keeled equilibrium, but it's far too late for that. In the isolated corner of this modest seaside bar, a hungry fire has been lit.

"...Ha. Looks like you win," Lucy's low voice sounds like an ominous, teasing hiss as she leans back over, her raven hair falling across the table. Turning Shay's face with gentle--yet confident--intent, her purple-hued lips plant careful, agonizingly slow kisses up the tamer's jawline, pausing briefly at the corner of her lips before stopping just below her ear. Lucy's breath is hot against Shay's skin as the Pike Queen hums quietly, reveling in this little game, her narrowed eyes focusing on the bar's oblivious patrons while she sneaks a cheeky nip at an earlobe. Lucy can't resist--and one last goading remark falls from her mouth. A further invitation, only if Shay opts to keep playing along...

"I wonder, though...Is that really the best you can do...?"

#nsft tw #(this was fun stabi thanks!!)#(hope you like itttt)#(lucy vc: i cant believe that worked)#murmursdraconic

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spoilertv · 4 months ago

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#SpoilerTV

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months ago

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We'll Find Her P2

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n Watts Rating - Sad AF! Word Count - 2380

Warning - Rape / abuse / kidnapping / trauma / homophobia / forced conversion therapy / sexual abuse

It had been several weeks since we finally brought our daughter Violet back home, and the joy and relief we felt were indescribable. We had missed her so much, and having her back with us was like a dream come true. After a short period, my wife, Y/n, showed remarkable progress and almost fully recovered to her usual self. Y/n and I made a conscious effort to give her space and allow her to feel comforted, ensuring she didn't feel overwhelmed with our affection. We were both aware that she had been through a lot, and we wanted to provide a supportive environment without being overbearing. Despite this, we indulged her when she was back home.

We found it difficult to leave her alone because we were constantly worried about her well-being. We made sure to express our love for her, even if she was simply stepping out to go to the bathroom.

I headed down this morning adjusting my shirt as I did, and seeing Y/n in the kitchen making pancakes I bolted over wrapping my arms around her.

"Ummm good morning Y/n,"

"Good Morning Benny," she cooed,

"How'd you sleep?"

"Angelic,"

"I did too," I cooed, "oohh let's have a taste," I smiled trying to grab a lick of the pancake batter spoon,

"No!" she stopped me, "Blue blow, blue spoon that's Violets batter,"

"Oohh," I nodded taking a taste from the other bowl, as Violet's food needed extra vitamins and supplements added given everything she had been through, "Very nice Y/n," I smiled before I took my seat to wait for pancakes,

"Morning..." Violet sighed as she came down the stairs still in her PJs,

"Awww Good morning sweetheart, how are you feeling?" I smiled

"Groggy," She sighed as she came over and hugged Y/n,

"I know sweet girl I know, it'll pass you have so much rest to catch up on," Y/n reassured petting Violet's sweet blonde hair,

"I know," With a heavy sigh, she approached me and wrapped her arms around me. I held her with tenderness and reassurance, allowing her to hold onto me tightly. I made sure to let her dictate the duration of the hug, allowing her to seek the comfort she needed. "Pancakes?"

"Pancakes, with strawberries, cream, syrup. Whatever you want sweetheart," I nodded,

She nodded and slowly took her seat taking the pancakes and strawberries Y/n gave her and eating slowly, I soon received my pancakes and I made sure to keep pace with Violet even if it made my pancakes soggy but I didn't want her to feel rushed or anything. And as I ate a strawberry landed on my plate I rasied an eyebrow a little confused as I glanced at Violet and she briefly smiled at me, "To pay the dad tax,"

I chuckled and gave her back the strawberry kissing her head, "You are exempt from taxes sweetheart, like a princess." I told her,

"Our little princess," Y/n smiled, "How do you feel about Doctor Olive today?"

"I- I wanna go," Violet nodded,

"You know you don't have to,"

"No, I want to. help get things back to normal,"

"Good girl," I cooed,

But Violet shivered her face went white and a tear welled up in her eye,

"Oh no! No no no I'm sorry sweetheart I didn't mean to." I held her in my arms softly, "I didn't mean it I swear I didn't,"

She held me tightly for a few moments and I felt like a monster for bringing up her memories,

"I'm so sorry sweetheart,"

"It's okay not your fault. I'm okay." she nodded,

"Okay, if you're sure," I nodded,

"I'm going for a shower," she said as she got up and kissed my cheek, "Love you, Dad," Then went to Y/n kissing her, "Love you, Mom,"

"We love you too sweet girl, go have a nice long shower, dress however you like and we'll go to Doctor Olive's office together," Y/n told her,

Violet nodded and headed up to go for her shower leaving us both a little on edge,

"Me or you taking her?" I asked,

"Both,"

"Both?"

"Umm, she said last night she wants both of us to take her,"

"Okay," I nodded,

"And... Doctor Olive thinks she's ready to tell us what happened,"

".... Is she?" I said slightly worried,

"He says so,"

"Are... we ready to hear what happened?"

"I don't think we ever will be Benny,"

I sat in the car doing my best to drive slowly and gently not wanting any bumps or issues in the car for her, I let her ride shotgun as I knew it always cheers her up, and I didn't want her feeling isolated in the back seat alone, until we got to Doctor Olive's office, the shrink the police are paying for to help Violet after everything that's happened. I parked up and for a moment we just sat waiting for her to open the door, I noticed how nervous she seemed in her baggy clothes.

"We don't have to go in," I told her,

"Not if you don't want to Violet," Y/n added,

"If you want to sit in this car for the two hours we're down aren't we?"

"Totally,"

"You wanna go to the movies? or the store? or anywhere else you say the word." I told her, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I know, I want to, thanks though,"

"Okay," Y/n nodded, "But ice cream after?"

"Yeah, ice cream after," Violet nodded before she climbed out of the car,

I held Y/n's hand as we followed Violet inside, she signed in and we sat in the waiting room with her but it wasn't long till Doctor Olive came and collected her leaving Y/n and me alone both of us fidgeting from being away from Violet,

"I hope she's okay..." Y/n began,

"I know, She's with the doctor she's okay," I nodded even if inside I was panicked too,

An hour passed before Doctor Olive came out but with no Violet in tow immediately we jumped from our seats in a panic ready to tear down this office brick by brick if anything happened to Violet,

"She's ready," he nodded,

I gripped Y/n's hand tighter as we went into the office and sat down on the couch, Doctor Olive took a chair by the door and Violet still sat in the chair by the window,

"Hey sweet girl," Y/n cooed,

"Hi," She smiled,

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked,

"I do," she nodded, "I have to,"

"You don't have to," I reassured,

"I do," She said, "It'll make me feel better,"

"Okay," we each nodded,

Honestly, Y/n and I knew very little of what had happened to Violet, we didn't want to make her upset by asking her, and when the police gave us a brief overview we were far too overjoyed to have her back to care, I did want to know... even if I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it,

"sharing and expressing what happened can help with the recovery process," Doctor Olive added,

"... So, it started as just a normal day. I was excited to walk home on my own for once, I made plans to walk home with some friends who live nearby, the last teacher was being a dick and held everyone back at the end of the day cause he was missing a pair of scissors, turns out they where on his desk," she chuckled, "So I got my stuff from my locker and went outside the gates to the little phone box where I called mom, told her why I was late out but I was on my way." She nodded, "I met my friends and we started the walk home, and then...." she trailed off, "And then it happened." She said,

Silence filled the room,

"We went to the little shop just on the corner, to sneakily get some snacks. I'm so so sorry if I'd never have..."

"It's okay, it's okay," Y/n reassured her,

Violet sniffled and wiped her eyes, "The owner had a one school child at a time rule, so one by one we go in buy our snacks and get out. I was last everyone else walked off and I was just going to go in grab some coke and some gummy snakes and come right home." She shivered, "But... The gummy snakes were on the back wall, and when I came to the counter the owner wasn't there, I waited but no one, I tried to just leave the money and go but the door was locked. Next thing I knew... I woke up in a basement with a bleeding head," She explained, "The owner he... he..." She shivered,

"It's okay Violet, you don't need to -" I began,

"He chained me up down in the basement, he called me horrible things, such terrible words, said I was a monster, a demon, told me to repent for the inhuman things I'd done." She said, "... He did such horrible things to me, the therapy he called it. He said he was trying to save my soul. To convert me from sin. He was insane! thought he could run a conversion camp out of his basement!"

I teared up as did Y/n, as we did our best to listen to everything but all of it broke our hearts,

"He... he would make me work unpacking boxes for hours, he wouldn't feed me if I stole food he beat me, I never saw the sun, never spoke to anyone, he'd spray me with ice water, call me his good girl when I behaved, make me watch horrible videos, he'd touch me so much it hurt, and... and... have his way with me." She said through stained tears,

I wanted to speak, I wanted to scream, so much I wanted to say, wanted to do, but all I could do was hold Y/n's hand and tremble with her as we listened to the hell that had been inflicted on our daughter, our baby, our sweet girl who we would love no matter what, to hear what someone had done to her made my blood boil.

"Why... why you?" Y/n trembled,

"Becuase he heard me talking to my friends... About melody." She cried, "He heard us before, and planned this out for the next time I came in." She cried, "Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry... if I'd just listened to you I'd - I'd..."

"You have nothing! to be sorry about." I told her letting her fall into our arms, "You have nothing to fear Violet, no one is ever going to do anything like that to you again!" I promised her,

I sat on the sofa reading my book, Y/n doing her knitting, when Violet came down in her little dress.

"Aww Hi Sweetheart, don't you look beautiful today." I smiled,

"Ooohh very chic," Y/n smiled,

"Can... can I talk to you guys?" She sheepishly asked,

"Of course come on," I smiled offering her the chair but she came and sat between Y/n and me on the sofa, I smiled and let her cuddle there like she used to cuddle between us when she was little,

"So what's up little lady?" Y/n asked as she continued to knit,

"...Whatever I say, will you promise not to be mad,"

"Of course, I promise no madness." I told her, "What do you want to tell us?"

"I had a theory about this for a while, but... when I went to the doctor yesterday, he confirmed it. I... I..." She began,

"Violet?" Y/n asked in a worried tone,

"I'm pregnant,"

"Pregnant!! How- How are you-" I began but stopped myself, "Oh my god-"

"Please don't be angry with me," She begged,

"No no no sweetheart I promise we're not angry with you," Y/n reassured her as she could see the rage on my face,

Not only did that bastard kidnap our daughter, lock her up, try and force conversion therapy on her, and rape her but he Knocked her up!

I'm gonna kill him, I am going to murder him, I am going to break into his prison cell, break every one of his bones, cut out his intestines, feed them to him and castrate him with a rusty hook!

I let out a breath as my rage was for him, and I didn't want Violet to be fearful, "Okay." I nodded concealing my anger, "I am not angry with you I promise Violet." I told her giving her a cuddle and a kiss,

"You mean it?"

"I do," I nodded, "We're not angry with you not at all."

"Have you had any time to think? of what to do?" Y/n asked carefully holding Violet's hand,

"I... I don't want this baby," Violet cried, "But... but... it's a life. a little life no matter how it was made... I... I don't want to get rid of it."

"Are you sure? No shame if you do, it was a terrible experience it's not a bad thing to want to be rid of it Violet." I told her,

"No," She shook her head,

"Okay... adoption? you could have it and help a really lovely couple who can't have their own?" Y/n suggested as we did our best to be supportive,

"I... I don't know, I... I don't want to raise a baby, I'm still a kid, and I want to have a life beyond this mess. But... I don't want to get rid of it or send it away never to see it again." She explained,

I sighed, unsure how to help other than just to hold her until Y/n spoke,

"I have an idea," She said, "You keep the baby, and stay home while it grows school already doesn't want you back yet after everything, and while you are doing this resting at home, I... I will tell people I am pregnant with another baby,"

My jaw dropped as I realized what Y/n was offering,

"I will pretend that your father and I are going to have another baby, and when your baby is born, your father and I will look after it. So you can go back to school, go to college, and have the future you were always meant to have without the worries and stresses of being a young mother, I will take the burden and raise the baby as your sibling, no one ever need to know, not even the baby if you don't want them too."

I teared up at how sweet Y/n was being to offer this for Violet, to give her the life almost robbed from her by all this,

"You'd do that?" she asked,

"Of course I would, we both would," She said,

I nodded in agreement wiping my tears, "We would be more than happy to do this for you sweet girl,"

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datarevived · 5 months ago

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Excision

The smell of gunpowder & foul slaughter captivate the battlefield like a fog. The screams & shrills of various life echoing off the chasms the enemy built within itself, an array of color & dust kicking from battle maneuvers & instinct.

This is what it all came down to.

The very moment that weighed so heavily on every consciousness involved.

- - All or nothing.

They leave alive, or not at all.

" Bring them down! Let no enemy breech the hall, for the Vanguard depends on it! " the powerful voice of known Kell, ravaged the skies like thunder as he pointed one scimitar to the clouds in heartful rally. The Eliksni, both House of Light & Spider's burden mimicking in warcry chittering, weapons raised & guns aimed down the sights at the approaching Dread.

This was but a fraction of the coalition's forces that remained to bottleneck the unending swarms of the Witness's forces; with the Witch Queen's brood at it's fore-front, the mighty legion of Cabal guided by the Empress to it's left & various Tower affiliation such as the Awoken, Gambit & Neomuna Strider sprinkled in between the masses. Even the Lightless, those who would gladly die if it meant turning the tides of what would be their final fight against the Darkness for all others to return vigilant. This was the battle for all at stake, or shall they be condemned to the F i n a l S h a p e.

" Strand Subjugator, to your right! " the voice chirps behind her ear in aide, the Guardian twisting on a heel with Whisper raised as she clicks the bullet into place, briefly staggering the tall frame as others begin to follow suit. It's a rotation she had quickly found herself in with her skill set, scoping down her sniper to deliver swift hits in critical points & moving onward to the next - wasting no time or thought on remaining on the same face too long.

To most, it is a form of appreciated support, allowing those more comfortable of getting close & personal a window to oblige, while others with less steady aim are given the time they need to deliver killing blows. But for her - it was a sake of breath, a momentum to keep herself grounded & counting the exhales in between shots that would otherwise give her time to reconsider what she was doing.

Ever since having been resurrected in the pit of Russia, her gift-born life had held more questions than answers. More obligations over negotiations, expectations over exploration. Whether or not she could say she held her own identity even to this day - she wouldn't be able to answer with confidence. But if winning this battle meant a chance to truly find out her purpose beyond that of a war-drone, then perhaps there was a chance, after all, for her to find something she could dedicate her time & energy to without feeling so restless.

H e l p l e s s.

" Two o'clock. Wings to your left! "

Muscle memory that rides such precision as if it were mechanical. The Hunter reaches inward to one of her boots, pulling a pair of knives that as quickly leave her hand in a fiery spit; eyes not leaving the steady scope in front of her as the wisps of the Whisper's aesthetic lick at her chin. She senses it telling her something, a short glance down on the angle she stood as several stasis-like Psions readied their fire. A dodge into neighboring cover, coral-like walls that jettison out from the terrain, & her fist is balled into a galaxy-like haze; grip tightening to solidify the energy with its' color & sending the heated purple star in the Psion's direction.

" I'm picking up a signal -- "

Bullets slip through her fingers as she listens in attentively, refilling her resources in the small grace created before immediately swinging her body back to the right, aiming in predicted steps of where she spotted an approaching Ogre prior. Its' body thudding back in shock, as a howl emits from its' bony jaw, charging a familiar nova.

" It's. . . -! Selene, it's the Traveler! "

The Hunter reverses her steps, her back planted back against the Pale Heart's cartilage as she takes in a deep breath - resetting herself for conversation to the mayhem surrounding them.

" It needs us - all of us! The Vanguard & the other Fireteams are making the final push! "

" We can't just all leave, Data! They need us out here, too! " she argues, frustration already building up to her temples behind the plexi of her helmet. " We're short enough on bodies as it is! "

" No, it needs - - that's not what it wants, Sel! The Traveler needs the LIGHT. It needs the both of us - and it needs us now! "

" What difference does TWO OF US make!? "

" SELENE ! "

A third voice cracks into the conversation, Selene's gaze caught upward at the sight of a charged splicer shot towards a group of Dread. The Kell, Mithrax, standing within battle distance as he waves one of his lower arms towards the hall that separated the forefront battle & reinforcements to both ends. Several bodies already ushering inside.

" The Traveler wails its' final breath, Hunter. Go -- & provide it the pulse it requires to make it last. The coalition forces will protect you. Now go ! "

She can feel her lungs tighten against the decision mixed with charred air as she pries herself from the wall. Quickly storing her sniper for something more traversal, the white & shaded display of a Jian-7 now folding into her hands as she runs. With a few leveraged jumps to avoid further implications, she has found another tunnel cracked into the monolith that leads to where the final battle stirs. A pathway secluded enough should they need to rush back.

" It's an odd feeling, " Data transmogs himself to her side, causing the visceral reaction of Selene's neck practically snapping in turn.

" Are you crazy?! " the sound of dropped firearm tumbles against the monolith ground, sliding back towards the group fire at the slightest of inclines. But hasty footsteps remain en route as an arm yanks the Ghost from its' hover, bringing the glowing shape to Guardian's chest. " Stay down! "

" I - I can't -! It's like a pull, I don't know how to explain it! " Data's voice shakes in both uncertainty & confidence. The shell within Selene's grip begging to be let go on its' own, like a magnetic pull towards the final limit.

The gunfire from behind dims into echoes off the walls that surround them, as the fields in front begin their bass of heavy shots & explosions rattling the infrastructure of the stones' wound. Soot & cracked sand shaking above her head threatening to make her trip quick & one-sided.

Data wrangles his way out of her hands a moment, hovering just out of reach in front as optic widens in a premature tremor.

An antagonizing howl ruptures, its' volume enough to be heard throughout the entirety of the Pale Heart; the ground beneath all who stood it, shaken into a sharp inhale of roots as the land itself acted to condense. It freezes Selene in her tracks, a primal fear that locks her where she stands. Chest thumping against the constricted feeling of whatever was happening on the other side - were they winning...? Losing...?

" Sel ! "

A bright, nearly blinding light strikes every shadow that plagued the monolith, flooding into each & every crack - including the one they were in. A powerful aura of Light, a beacon, radiating from the final battle's edge. Though she was not there alongside them, still several meters from the breech, it was close enough for her Ghost to be adamant about trying as she takes the few steps forward to catch up of where it hovered.

" I need you to channel everything - they need everything! "

She does not question it - stretching out her hand, concentrating every fiber of energy she has left. If this was the now or never, it was not worth getting cynical over. Not worth hesitating over a moments' unanswered question or curiosity. Not worth not giving him what he asks, & putting in the support for his belief. After all, this was technically his home.

He had gone through so much for her.

So what was once in finally returning the favor?

A f i n a l push,

the air in her chest giving in as all sound ( it was so loud ), all view ( it was so bright ) & all there was to know ( did they do it? ), for the briefest of moments, felt. . . e m p t y. A static nothingness, as if frozen in time. Locked in a moment most raw. Paused silence.

A B l i n k.

Within millisecond, a shock wave expends forth from the core of the battle, a gust of energy turned wind as the Traveler exhales the Witness's intoxication from its' veins. No longer the lingering dread that tainted this Heart from the time Guardian had taken step; there is clarity in the air of which they can breathe. Twisted clouds & mach shadows dissipate from the sky, illuminating the lands with gracious greenery & crippling, dried vines.

The walls of the monolith that originally matched that of the Witness's robe, now an eager quartz as Selene regains her vision & footing from it all. Legs stumbling like that of new-born deer from the pulse, recalling her helmet to place a hand to the side of her head; a ringing in her ears she can't quite shake as her other arm aides her against the closest wall to distribute her weight. She feels slanted, but can't tell if it's from the rock or dizziness.

" Data... " she mumbles the name into the air, vision still hazed & trying to focus on any particle of dust that could stand out bigger than the rest. " Data... where'd you go? "

One step, followed by another - she feels an exhaustion that doesn't make sense to this victory. The third & rattling of her head enough to send her down to her knees, nearly breaking the fall from her face with one hand planted on the ground as the other remained glued to her temples. A glance upward, scouting the distance between she & the exit. That's when she notices.

" -- Data? "

The empty shell, cracked from its' fall against the rock, laid dormant.

Adrenaline relapsing to a rabbit-beaten heart, she struggles to gain traction in her boots to make up the difference between she and the Ghost. The ache in her skull pushed aside for the next contender, the dryness in her mouth from rapid breaths & tears cornering her eyes she'd swear is from all the dust. She scampers half-run, half-crawl to grasp at the shell, checking it over for any, at all, signs of life.

" No. . . no, nono - no! No, no - ! N-Not like this, notlikethis-- "

Fingers desperately search, irritated enough to yank away her gloves and let her fingerprints trace any crack she may have bruised over. The blurriness in her vision doing no favors to the trembling anger in her arms, What's wrong? What's wrong?! Why aren't you responding?!

" Nonono. "

The light-headedness is amping up quick, & it only makes her inability to focus more concentrated, a fury & panic like she's never felt before. She doesn't understand, this was not part of the plan.

" Data...! "

Arms hug at her chest, the sharp edges of the shell pressing against her armor as the rest of her body buckles forward, curled with forehead pressed to the floor. She has no more energy to move - none to remain right-side up. The remainder used exclusively to the wailing sobs that bounce off the quartz walls of the monolith.

Her only constant, ever since that pit in Russia.

She was alone.

. . .

. .

" . . . Sel? "

Her body freezes in the moment, unable to tell delusion from reality. The sudden cold in her bones, to the icy wind in her breath, soothing the dryness of her tongue. With moments before not enough energy to even close her eyes, now, able to drop the weight from her locked shoulders as she lessens the grasp from her chest; cheek pressed to the floor as she glances inward beneath her chest.

A faint, azure optic light.

" Y-You... "

" I'm. . . here. "

#✦ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ / drabble #Destiny 2 Writing #Destiny 2 Story #Destiny 2 Excision #( hurt myself - gonna go play vidja game now )

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twilightovervenus · 6 months ago

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"The Sister's War" a prelude story for my larger "Red Pawn's Gambit" plot in my MekSol setting

Over 200 years ago, humanity left Earth for the black sea of space. Fleeing a calamity called the Weltfeuer (Worldfire), these refugees made their new homes on Mars, Mercury, and Venus. In the years since the exodus humanity developed Mechanized Armor. These Mechanized Armors, better known as meks, are massive mobile weapons platforms that dominate current military strategy. Their youthful pilots are known as Mecha-Jockeys, or mekjoks, people who push their reflexes to the absolute limit in the absurd spectacle of mek combat.

In the Venusian Empire, feudalism reigns; its main territory a kingdom made up of the planet and its seven satellite colonies. Peasants and serfs live by the whims of the Lesser and Greater House Lords, who themselves live by the law of Grand House Kertész. Mekjoks are not just pilots on Venus, but knights sworn to service.

"The Sister's War"

2nd Quarter, 225 AE (After Earth)

Outside of Ibolya Colony, Empire of Venus

House Lord Jerrid Montgomery stood quietly on the bridge of the capital ship Abandon of Cruelty, his cold brown eyes narrowing to survey the battle. The view outside of Lord Montgomery's personal ship was a sight to behold. Enemy and allied warships criss-crossed in the void of space, pockets of light illuminating their hulls as their cannons fired.

Ibolya Colony hovered, looking like a newly plucked violet blossom composed of steel and ceramic. The massive habitat hung in orbit above Venus, dwarfing the ships circling it.

The captain on Lord Montgomery's bridge barked orders and demanded updates, answered by a herald listing losses and conveying the captain's latest exclamation into workable orders for the crew. A zero-gee goblet of dry red wine swished languidly in Lord Montgomery's idling hand. He was dressed the same as his crew: a black vacuum suit with magnetic heels, a reinforced chestplate, an open helmet connected to a reserve air tank, and a set of thigh and forearm guards. The only things that distinguished him from the rank and file were his gold-plated shoulder scales and crimson sash.

The House Lord's face was youthful, despite early middle age creeping across his face in faint lines. His jaw was strong and clean-shaven, with a sharp and prominent nose held high when speaking to underlings.

"Captain, order the Discovery of Reason to fire all main guns at the Pride of Terra." Jerrid Montgomery ordered quietly, eyes scanning the distant crossfire. The captain nodded and immediately shouted. "Discovery, your Lord demands main fire on the Pride!"

The herald repeated the command, before turning to Lord Montgomery and bowing their head. The House Lord briefly gave an acknowledgement before returning to his assessment.

The battle had been going so well, just as Queen Katrina's strategists had predicted against her sister Queen Magdolyn's forces. Lord Montgomery had driven his six ships in as a wedge, aiding Lady Avci to break the defense outside of Ibolya Colony. With any luck, the day would end with the boarding and liberation of the colony from loyalist forces.

"Lord Montgomery, a message from Lady Avci!" the herald declared.

"Patch it to my device." Jerrid commanded, gulping a swig of the wine.

Lady Avci's voice filled Jerrid's earpiece almost immediately "I'm deploying in my varjú. Requesting reinforcements to aid my attack on the Crawl."

Jerrid's eyes scanned the holographic representation of the battlefield behind him. Dozens of multi-color blips immediately registered as names, crew sizes, and armaments in his mind's eye. Jerrid's time as an admiral before the civil war was certainly paying off. He had even spent a month inspecting the Crawl of Progress, the ship Lady Avci was asking him to help destroy.

"Captain, deploy a macská... and a squad of hangyák." Jerrid said, an idea striking him.

The captain and herald immediately made it so.

"Herald," Jerrid said, stroking his jaw. "Put me in touch with Dame Greeson."

---

Cordelia Greeson stalked through the Abandon's hallway, genially clapping the shoulder of a heavily armored shock trooper as she passed. Cordelia was dressed from heel to throat in her mekjok armor, a sleek insectoid carapace of red ceramic over her black vacuum suit. The crimson helmet hung in her other hand, swishing with her strides.

The macska in the mekbay was built in the likeness of Old Earth's domestic cat, laying on all four of its huge legs. Even prone, the mechanical beast stood at over 8 feet tall, and 20 feet long with its tail tucked against its back. While Venusian meks traditionally had white armor plating cut with House colors, Cordelia's and all other meks sworn to the Rebel Queen Katrina had painted their meks black. Black for the dark task of rebellion, a shroud of mourning for the siblings inevitably slain.

Cordelia smiled as she pushed from the mek bay's deck and disengaged the magnets in her boots. She lifted from the ground instantly, her body sailing towards the macska's cockpit, set just in front of its right "ear". Cordelia braced against the metal plating to a gentle thunk before entering her access code into a recessed panel. The door slid open, revealing the cockpit compartment.

Cordelia swiftly swung her body through, settling into her chair as the mek's fusion-solar power core hummed to life in the Macska's belly. Cordelia buckled her chest and lap straps as she settled her feet onto the two pedals, each segmented for forward and reverse.

CONFIRM IDENTITY her macska's central display screen challenged. The two on opposite sides were still off, awaiting Cordelia's next move.

Cordelia unspooled a cable from each of her wrist bracers, plugging them into the base of a pair of joystick controllers. Immediately the data from her suit was confirmed by the display.

GREESON, CORDELIA the three displays flashed, as the macska's secondary systems booted up. Technical readouts flashed before Greeson's eyes, showing the pristine condition of her mek from the inside-out. Greeson smiled as she flicked a series of switches above her. The display screens switched over to a 180⁰ view in front of the macska's head, with a Heads-Up Display showing munitions and system alerts.

Greeson's helmet beeped to signal its communication suite was connected to the mek, as the macska drowsily rose onto all fours. Even from her cockpit, Greeson could hear the cacophonous first steps her mek took towards the airlock. The steps jostled the cockpit, somewhat exaggerated by the low gravity within the Abandon.

"Dame Greeson, taking off" Cordelia said into her suit's headset, waiting for the green light above the mek bay's door.

"Standby, milady. Depressurizing in 3...2...1. Clearance granted! Jó vadászatot!" The Abandon's herald replied.

(Jó vadászatot [Yo va-das-a-tot] = Good Hunting)

The mek bay's door opened, revealing the stillness of space. The only sights marring the pitch black were the pinpricks of starlight, and the far off explosions of meks engaged in combat. The macska pounced from the door, the thruster systems installed beside its four paws guiding the mechanical beast onto a path to join the melee. Cordelia willed her teeth to unclench as she felt her pulse start to race.

Two allied hangya meks swiftly followed Cordelia from their respective bay, wings spread wide to give them flight. The meks were only slightly smaller than hers, designed in the likeness of creatures from Old Earth called ants.

The trio streaked across space, Cordelia relaying commands as she adjusted her macska's sights. Already her index fingers were tensed over the triggers of her joysticks, thumbs just beside the red buttons that would unleash a barrage of high-explosive anti-mek missiles.

The battlefield had formed a halo around Ibolya Colony, a ring of warships and meks, peppered by the fearsome coronas of solar-fusion reactors gone critical. The destroyed meks ballooned into rapidly decaying bodies of radioactive plasma, threatening to swallow those that came too close.

"Lady Avci, this is Dame Greeson, here at your request." Cordelia spoke into her headset as the House Lord's mek and entourage came in sight.

The varjú had been designed after the Old Earth crow, and would have been nearly invisible with its metallic black plating if not for the cerulean trim to distinguish it as Lady Avci's Custom. She was flying alone, a risky choice she had made many times before.

"Very good, it would please us greatly to have you provide cover fire. Your Lord Montgomery should be firing his first barrage on the Crawl any moment now." Lady Avci replied curtly "The enemy is sure to deploy distractions any moment now."

As if on cue a squad of enemy meks showed up on Cordelia's sensors, exiting the Crawl's mekbays. Cordelia could feel her heart pulse in her throat as she growled "Hangyák, behind me! Attack!" Diving her macska in the direction of the enemy.

The hangyák meks followed close behind, the enemy rising to meet them. Cordelia's fingers tightened on her joysticks to a white knuckle grip under her gloves. She'd fought in three skirmishes since her knighthood, and nearly died in the second. Any slip up was liable to make her fourth battle the last. Just another furious cloud of purple plasma disappating alone in the black sea.

The enemies, a squad of four hangyák, opened fire with barrages of missiles and armor piercing slugs towards Cordelia and her allies. Cordelia gasped with the lurch she sent her macska into to dodge the worst of it. The few shots that connected to her mek made the machine rattle, jolting Cordelia in her seat.

"Weapons free! Open fire!" Cordelia cried on her comms as she righted her mek, slamming her thumbs on the red buttons on her joysticks.

Cordelia's macska's shoulder pods opened, twin compartments launching a barrage of missiles towards the enemy meks. Cordelia's wingmates fired as well. One of Cordelia's missiles slammed into an enemy mek's head, shattering it as the rest of its body burst like a grenade into searing plasma. One of Cordelia's allies similarly destroyed another enemy mek, leaving two behind.

Cordelia exhaled slowly as she swiveled her mek to dodge the counter-barrage. One of her wingmates didn't fare as well, taking a hangya slug in the torso. While the reactor didn't go critical, Cordelia gritted her teeth as she knew the pilot was dead at best.. or wished he was at worst.

"Prepare for melee, charge!" Cordelia cried, firing her mek's claw cannons. The shots flew wide, but broke the enemy's attack pattern smoothly.

"Confirmed" her remaining hangya ally replied, engaging their thrusters to maximum.

"For Queen Katrina" Cordelia said as she engaged her mek's transformation, plunging down a handle in the center of the console.

The macska's arms and legs straightened themselves as the hind paws collapsed on each other into boots. The forepaws lengthened into fiercely clawed hands, the head repositioning to face forward on the new humanoid form. This was a gift given to only the most respected knights of Venus, an honor Cordelia had earned in her second battle.

Cordelia's hangya launched itself forward with renewed speed as the Abandon of Cruelty fired its main gun into the Crawl of Progress' hull, shattering its bridge in a near instant. The crew would evacuate or soon die in the cascading ship-wide failures to come.

Lady Avci's mek finally joined the fray, her varjú's guns punching twin holes into one of the two remaining hangya. Cordelia yelled in savage fury as her macska lurched for the last hangya, now trying to flee. Cordelia could almost feel her humanoid macska's clawed hand crunch into the hangya's head. The claw's hydraulics building in pressure around the enemy cockpit section, building, building until-

#mecha #sci fi #short story #meksol #science fiction #mechs #space fantasy

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