#cloud is the remnants carrier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vintagedolan · 3 years

Text

mixtape | track fourteen

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Today’s lecture is on end of life. Death. Passing. However you want to refer to it, it’s about the process of a human being who was here, not being here anymore. And it’s particularly about your role in helping them go peacefully.”

Indy swallowed hard.

The wound was still fresh. It didn’t matter that it was May. Bekah’s funeral could have been just yesterday. She could see the wood grain of the podium she’d delivered the eulogy at in front of her if she closed her eyes for a few seconds too long.

Instead, she looked forward, found her professor in the front of the lecture hall. Dr. Ginn. A quirky woman, who seemed determined to live up to Indy’s first impression as she climbed onto her desk and sat with her clicker in her hand, legs criss-cross.

“Now. Doctors and death, they don’t mix. If I had to guess, a doctor’s worst fear is death. They spend their whole lives fighting it. But nurses? We’re different.”

Indy liked the sound of we.

“For us, the priorities shift. As nurses, your job is just as much to push epi as it is to hold someone’s hand. And you are the one that makes that call. You are the last comfort that a lot of people have in their lives. You are the backbone for the family, for the friends who are there to say goodbye. And you are there to make sure your patient goes as peacefully as they can. That is the most important part of your job, hands down. And if that’s not something you can see yourself doing, then you need to rethink and probably change your career.”

The hall was silent apart from the clicking of laptop keys.

“Now. On that lovely note, let’s get started. A code blue, or as I call it, an ‘oh shit’...”

A message notification appeared on the right corner of Indy’s screen as she opened her notes.

Coffee after class?

Indy smiled, and in lieu of listening for a moment, she let her mind wander back to February...

Grayson was really trying. But it was hard to break habits that he’d been so comfortable with since the first day that he met Indiana. It took so much mental effort to not hold her hand, to not brush her hair behind her ear - so much that Indy nudged him in the side as they walked.

“Where’d you go?”

“Sorry, just thinking.”

She had a good guess of what he was thinking about, or more specifically what he was waiting for.

An answer.

Indy could hear Nicole in her mind, telling her to be careful, to be careful with her heart. She thought of what her mother would say if she met Grayson as she walked beside him on the sidewalk. It kept her mind busy until they got to the familiar door that Grayson pulled open for her. If nothing else made sense, at least there was always Jet’s, with it’s comforting constant vanilla smell and that favorite blue chair that Indy beelined for while Gray went to the counter.

Patrick looked ready to commit murder when he realized who was ordering, but Indy shot him a smile from across the store that softened him up just enough for Grayson to make it out with their coffees unscathed.

“So he definitely hates my guts,” Gray mumbled as he sat down, making sure his back was to the bar.

“He’s a protective one, you know this,” Indy teased as she sipped her coffee.

“How soon did you start working here again after… after I left.”

“I gave myself a couple days. I definitely wasn’t at my peak on my first day if that’s what you’re asking.” She let out a dry chuckle.

“Did you start here or the hospital first?”

“Same time. The tech job kinda fell in my lap, and I needed the money for rent. I only really came back here so I could afford therapy. They have a benefits package for all their employees.”

Grayson froze, but his cup quivered in his hand as he shook.

“I… because of…”

“No, no no, not because of you. I mean, I did talk about the stuff going on with her cause we’ve been having sessions but I was planning on going since graduation. I wanted to get a handle on the whole flying thing.”

The reason went unspoken, and Grayson’s hands didn’t stop shaking, though his breathing came a bit easier.

“Is it going okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, haven’t really been on a plane to test anything out. But I did better than I thought I would when you were flying out, considering. So that’s a good sign. And my therapist is really nice, we’re a pretty good match.”

“Good. That’s good.” It wasn’t lost on him what it meant that she still cared that he was on a plane. Hope riled in his belly and he beat it back down as best he could.

There was a lull that was filled with the sounds of coffee beans grinding until Indy spoke up again.

“What have you been up to out in LA?”

Grayson swallowed. He looked at her quickly, her soft smile that made him feel like he could tell her anything, no matter how embarrassing it was.

“Honestly? I did fuck all. I mean, I did the basics I guess, with the companies and stuff. But I kinda let the misery have me. You did a hell of a lot better than me, that’s for damn sure.”

“I wasn’t doing great, believe me.”

“But at least you were trying,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “And I caused all this, I didn’t really have an excuse.”

“It’s in the past now. Nothing we can do to change it.”

“For the record, I wish I could. More than anything.”

“I know.”

“I really am sorry Dee. I know it’s not enough, but I am.”

“I know that too.”

The next beat of silence was painful, and it took a moment for Grayson to realize that it was now or never.

“Remember how bad our first date went? How I had that whole plan that just totally didn’t work?”

“The thunderstorm. I remember.” It made her smile, and she could picture every frame of it, from the ocean hallway to the remnants of apple juice on his lips.

“And I told you I was gonna save the real date for later.”

Indy nodded.

“Could we… can I do it now? Can I take you on a date?”

The thought brought butterflies to Indy’s stomach, but she blamed it on the coffee.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice. What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll show you. Technically Jet’s was first on the list anyways, but the next part is a surprise.”

With that, she stood up and followed him out into the street.

They started their walk separate, but it only took a moment for Indy to grab onto Grayson’s hand. He told himself it was out of necessity so they didn’t get split up in a feeble attempt to keep his hopes from getting away from him. Still, his stomach fluttered high above the pavement as they enjoyed the setting sun and willfully ignored the chill of the wind whipping around the buildings of the city. Eventually, his plan unfolded when they reached the entrance of the Highline. It was one of Indy’s favorite places in the city, but she knew she’d never told Grayson that. He just knew her well enough it seemed.

They walked in peaceful silence for a while, hands squeezed tight against one another’s despite the lull in the foot traffic.

Indy smiled at their luck when they finally found an empty bench with a nice view of the skyline. She tugged Grayson over to it and kept her eyes forward for a moment before she looked over at him. His eyes were on the sky, skin flushed pink from the pigment on the clouds or the chill of the wind, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. He was beautiful, and he was hers if she wanted him.

Across the walkway, a young girl walked with her mom, who had a baby carrier strapped to her chest with a head of fuzzy hair just visible within it. The mom was rushing it seemed, and Indy realized the baby was crying loudly, sharp wails that became more audible as they passed by. The girl was dragging a small lion stuffed animal behind her, and Grayson watched as it slipped out of her hands and onto the concrete.

“Joey! Momma, momma I dropped Joey! Joey!” The girl cried out, but her mom continued to tug her along as she reached back for her lion.

Grayson was on his feet before Indy could say a word, jogging by and scooping up the small stuffed animal. He politely tapped the mother on the shoulder to get her to stop, then squatted down to the girl.

“Is this Joey?”

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears as she held her hand out for her toy. He passed it over slowly with a smile.

“Hold on tight to him okay?”

“Okay mister,” she said, voice high and quiet.

And right then, Indy saw everything she ever wanted. She saw her kids, with Grayson’s hair and Grayson’s eyes and Grayson’s laugh, she could see him carrying them up to bed, see him dancing with a little girl standing on his toes in their kitchen somewhere, see him passing her a little stuffed animal. She could see him in every facet of the future she hadn’t let herself imagine since he’d left, but her fantasies came rushing back so fast it felt like she was floating.

As if she could ever want anyone else.

She reached over for his hand as he walked back over, intertwining their fingers and letting him sit down before she finally spoke.

“I love this city. I love this city so much. It’s always been all I really needed.”

Grayson felt lightheaded as he prepared himself for what she was going to say.

“I know,” was all he could say.

Indy took a deep breath and turned towards Grayson with a soft smile. She could see the apprehension in his eyes as he waited for her to say something else.

“Did I tell you that Devin came to see me while you were gone?”

He shook his head.

“He came to check on me, since I wasn’t answering anyone.”

Grayson’s throat was tight as he pictured it in his head, the guilt overwhelming him. He reached over and squeezed her knee - a silent apology.

“He helped me figure out that I want to go into nursing, helped me get my head on straight.”

“He’s a smart guy,” Grayson said quietly.

“He told me I need to go for what I want. ‘Ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there’. That’s what he said. And I thought that’s what I was doing. I was going after a PhD, and my life in New York, and all these things I always wanted. Things I thought were really important. But they aren’t.”

He frowned. “Dee, your dreams are important.”

“I know, I know, and I’m not saying I’m giving up on that. I just mean my priorities I guess. I had them twisted, and I was missing the most important thing.”

She smiled his favorite smile as he tried to swallow.

He couldn’t make himself ask, just in case he was wrong, but she put him out of his misery after a moment.

“You. You’re the most important thing.”

She was suddenly blurry as his eyes filled with tears.

“I’ve never been good at change, but you’re worth it to me. If being with you means spending less time in New York, then it’s worth it. And I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like you weren’t.” She was crying too, and Grayson lifted his free hand to her cheek, wiping each tear with his thumb.

“Never. You never made me feel like that. I was the one that ran, because I never wanted you to feel like you ever had to give up anything for me.”

“Because you don’t realize that you’re worth giving things up for. You don’t realize how worth loving you are.”

He was fully crying now, a broken laugh making it’s way past his lips.

“Does that mean you still love me?”

She smiled.

“Never stopped.”

And she kissed him, and all was right in the world again for a moment. It didn’t matter that there were people walking by, and that their cheeks were wet from their tears. They were kissing and that meant that everything would be okay.

Any stranger that walked by surely had to feel the relief in the air when they pulled back and realized they could lean right back in without a single care in the world. He let go of her hand only to move it to her other cheek, to hold her steady there cradled in his palms as she kissed him between smiles - his whole world in his hands.

In that moment, he wanted more than anything to love her loud.

He pulled back just enough to bring her up to her feet and then his arms were wrapped around her waist, spinning her around until she was breathless and the city was a blur behind both their eyes. And for the first time that he could remember in too many years to count, he didn’t care who could hear him, and he didn’t care who was watching.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I missed you.”

Being back in each other’s arms was as easy as breathing. She didn’t stray an inch from his side, soaking in the warmth of his body next to hers as they made their way down from the highline as the city started to light up. By the time they made it home her toes were numb from the cold but her cheeks were still warm, seeing that every time they had to wait for a crosswalk Grayson ducked down to kiss her again.

When they got to the lobby, Grayson squeezed her hand.

“I gotta get something out of the truck, I’ll be right back.”

“You want me to wait here or head on up?”

He pondered it for a minute.

“Wait for me.”

She nodded. She always waited for him, after all.

He disappeared out of the glass doors at a jog and Indy heard a chuckle from the side of the lobby. She looked over to see the receptionist smiling down at her computer. Indy prided herself on being a very low maintenance tenant, but she still smiled and waved to the woman behind the counter whenever she passed by. Her name tag read Cara in neat white letters.

“Sorry if we were loud,” Indy said sheepishly. Cara laughed.

“Just happy to see you smiling that’s all. I’m glad he’s back.”

Indy blushed bright red before she answered. “Yeah. Me too.”

Grayson was slightly winded when he came back, and he was grateful for the long elevator ride as he held the small gift bag in his hand. Indy pretended she didn’t see it like her mom had always taught her to when she received a gift. Still, her eyes flickered to it each time she knew she could get away with it, her curiosity getting the better of her.

When they finally got inside the apartment he led her over to the living room by the hand and passed her the bag.

“I didn’t know how today was going to go, but I wanted you to have this either way. Figured you could put it on your shelf. When you’re ready.”

Indy pulled the tissue paper out and saw the rose gold edge of a picture frame. She pulled it out and her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh.”

Bekah was smiling.

It warmed the whole image in a way that had Indy’s eyes burning as she tried to place the day. She was curled up on the bed next to Beks, but she wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, she was looking at the girl beside her. Her little sister in a way, who was tucked away under her halloween blanket.

“That’s the night we had the word search tournament, and you both schooled me,” Grayson explained quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing at her hip under her sweatshirt. She remembered then, noticed the activity book in the corner of the picture.

“I didn’t even know you took this.”

“I know you like pictures, I meant to take more of you guys. But I like her smile in this one. Yours too.”

Indy sniffled and leaned her head back onto Grayson’s shoulder. “You’ve made me cry twice now you know.”

He kissed her temple and moved a hand to her forearm.

S-O-R-R-Y

He drew a heart afterwards, and even invisible on her skin she could tell it was lopsided. It made her smile, and she soaked in the feeling of him next to her for a moment before she spun around to kiss him.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips before pulling him in for a tight hug that had her up on her tiptoes when he wrapped her up. They held each other for a moment before Indy got an idea.

“I have something for you too. Wait here.”

Grayson kept his hands on her waist, thumbs rubbing over her skin underneath her sweatshirt.

“Stay,” he pouted.

“It’ll just take a second, I promise. Just wait here.”

She kissed him quickly just because she could and disappeared into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

He lasted about 45 seconds before he was picking at his fingernails. Then he was taking a few steps towards the door, fighting the urge to stick his ear up to it to see if he could get a hint at what she was doing.

Another minute passed, and he felt like he was going to lose it.

“Indyyyy,” he whined. “You’re killin’ me babe.”

“You’re so dramatic oh my god it’s been like a minute tops.”

“One minute too long,” he teased just in hopes of making her laugh. It warmed his heart to hear it, even muffled through the door. It still felt like an eternity before she finally reappeared with her hands behind her back.

“You know, you didn’t need to get me anything. Having you back is more than I deserve already.”

Indy’s laugh was louder this time since she was right in front of him.

“Who knew a Jersey boy could be so damn sappy,” she teased. “I don’t have a frame or anything, but here.”

She pulled out a piece of paper and passed it to him quickly, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet while she waited for him to read it. It felt like an eternity while she watched his eyes scan over the letters, seemingly missing the UCLA logo in the top corner.

“Did you… are you reading? Did you see it?”

Grayson looked up with a smile and drew a circle in the air around his face.

“Dyslexic,” he reminded her gently.

She bit her lip and tried her hardest to be patient, waiting until his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Wait… wait. What is this? UCLA? Nursing?” He looked up at her cautiously, trying to keep his excitement in check in case he’d misread. “What is this?”

“Well. There’s a lot of good nursing programs out there. And LA has some top notch hospitals too. Especially pediatric ones. Figured it couldn’t hurt to apply, and they’ve got a pretty good tuition coverage package, it’s close to your house, and-”

Grayson’s lips were on hers, his excitement palpable.

She kissed him back with a smile, relieved to finally tell someone about the grand plan she’d made in her head now that all the pieces had come together.

“You’re sure?”

Indiana smiled. “You’re worth it. You’re what I want, forever.”

He kissed her again, making up for lost time and telling her everything he couldn’t find the words for. They walked backwards until the back of his legs hit the couch and she ended up crawling onto his lap, beaming down at him when they finally broke apart.

“You’re actually coming to LA. We’re gonna live there.”

“Guess I gotta start apartment shopping,” she mused.

Grayson rolled his eyes. “Shut up and c’mere.”

He bailed them to the side until Indy was fully on top of him.

“I’ll build you a shelf for our bedroom. Fuck, I’ll build you 50 shelves as soon as we get there. Wait when do classes start, when do you have to move?”

“You’re cute when you’re excited,” she hummed, leaning down to kiss him again. It was slow and purposeful, warm in that familiar way as they remembered each other fully. “We’ll figure it all out,” Indy said eventually, scooting down his torso until her head could rest comfortably on his chest. She listened to his heart beat, a bit fast from either her presence or the coffee, she couldn’t tell. Either way, it was still her favorite sound, and as his hand moved through her hair gently, she knew she’d made the right choice, no matter where it took her.

3 months later, the place it took her was the passenger seat of Grayson’s brand new tesla, which was delightfully cool despite the warmth of the incoming summer making the LA air dry and warm. Grayson held out a hand for her to pass her backpack, tossing it into the backseat as if it wasn’t weighed down with three textbooks. She pulled the door closed behind her and let her head rest back against the seat for a moment before she turned to him.

“Hi.”

He beamed, leaning over the console to give her a quick kiss. “Hey. Good day?”

“Long day, but yeah, it was fine. Got a shit ton of assignments per usual.”

“Hey, three day weekend next week though, and we’re going to New York. What’d you learn?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Meds, codes, diseases, death. Truly uplifting stuff.”

He reached his hand over to her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb as his other hand moved the wheel effortlessly, pulling back out onto the road.

“Still want coffee? You didn’t answer.”

“Do I ever say no to coffee?”

“Fair points. Text E squared and see if they want anything.”

“They weren’t home?”

“No, they ran to the store, but they should be back by the time we get there.”

“If Eden went to Target without me I’m gonna be pissed,” Indy mumbled halfheartedly, typing out the text in their group chat quickly. “You know she’s gonna say she wants Jet’s.”

“Believe me I know, just ask Ethan. You’ve created a monster. We’ve gotta start asking Patrick to send beans in bulk or something, we go through them so fast now that she drinks it too.”

Indy just laughed and turned up the radio, unsurprised to hear Cudi from Grayson’s playlist he’d made for their car rides. It was routine now for him to pick her up from class, save her from the hassle of trying to find parking on campus. And it gave them some more alone time considering they lived with Ethan and Eden at the house. So, it wasn’t abnormal for Grayson to happily add 20 minutes to the drive to pick up coffee on the way home. Purdy’s was right down the street after all, and though their lattes weren’t quite as perfect as Jet’s, they held their own.

“We should buy Patrick some fancy beans somewhere and take them with us next weekend,” Grayson mused.

“You’re such a suck up, it’s not like he’s giving us free coffee,” Indy laughed. “You’re just still scared of him.”

“Fuck yeah I am! Every time we’ve gone home he looks like he wants to straight up murder me.”

She reached over to hold his cheek for a moment as she bit back her laugh.

“Baby. Patrick can barely lift a 50 pound box of syrup. Believe it or not, I think you could take him.”

He rolled his eyes but the comment wasn’t lost on his ego, especially when his girl leaned over to wrap her arm around his bicep and rest her cheek on it, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin left behind by his tank top. They ordered through the drive thru, surprised when neither Eden or Ethan responded to them. The car was peaceful, even more so when Grayson put it on autopilot and gave Indy more of his attention, trying to ease the stress he could feel coming off of her like it always did when she got out of class.

“Tell me about your lecture,” he said, hoping talking it through would help her.

She sipped on her coffee as she spoke, starting without many details but eventually going more in depth as she got more excited. It was one of Grayson’s favorite parts of listening to her talk about the things she cared about, and even though half of the information went right over his head he listened intently anyways, tried to take it all in as the car drove them home.

By the time they pulled into the driveway, Indy’s coffee was gone along with her stress, and Grayson knew all the steps to running a code blue. He hopped out first, grabbing her bag from the backseat and slinging it over his shoulder as they headed to the front door.

The first sign that something was different was the quiet of the house. Any other time that E squared was left alone, Grayson and Indy would come back to the speakers blaring, a scary movie on the living room TV, or the distant sound of a headboard knocking against the wall.

But it was dead silent, and the pair looked at each other before they scanned the room.

“They’re up to something,” Indy muttered, peaking around the wall to make sure Ethan wasn’t going to scare them.

“For sure. Something is off with Ethan, just don’t know what it is.”

“Oh, you got a feeling huh?” Indy teased, bumping him with her elbow. He took her waist in his hands and pulled her back against him, making her laugh as he tickled her and buried his face in her neck. He never got tired of having her so close - it was just as intoxicating as the first time.

“Sorry you don’t understand the twin connection.”

“Well, use your psychic powers to figure out where the fuck they are then.”

He closed his eyes for dramatic effect, smiling when it got the laugh he wanted out of her. Just as he lifted his fingers to his temple, a bang sounded from the backdoor, making Indy squeal and cling onto Grayson. He went to move her behind him until he saw the culprit - a tennis ball bouncing away across the yard.

“You’re okay, it’s just E,” Grayson breathed, relaxing and moving towards the door to find where his brother was hiding. They walked into the backyard hand in hand, following the sound of music coming from the pool, which was finally finished in the back corner of the property.

Ethan was at the entrance, his biggest smile on his face as he waited for them to get closer. Impatient as ever, he started walking towards them, meeting them halfway across the grass.

“Took you guys long enough to get home. We bought new stuff for the pool, come look at it.”

“E, bro, I told you not to buy random shit on your own,” Grayson grumbled, obviously weary of his brother’s interior design skills.

“Eden was with him,” Indy reminded him at a whisper.

“Just come on,” Ethan said, grabbing onto his brother’s hand and starting to drag him towards the pool.

“Jesus bro, calm down.”

Ethan ignored him, looking to make sure Grayson was bringing Indy along too until they made it around the corner where the small pool was in view.

“Surprise!” Ethan beamed, holding his hand out towards the water. Beside it on the concrete were some new additions.

Four loungers, a beautiful teal color with rounded contour that looked perfect for tanning. In fact, Eden was on one of them sprawled out in her bathing suit, and she looked so comfortable that Indy barely noticed the miniature fifth chair next to her at the end of the line up.

Brain fried from class, it took Indy a moment to piece it together.

5 chairs. 4 people. One smaller than the rest.

“No way,” she gasped, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Eden no way!”

Indy was already moving towards her best friend before she could get to her feet, ignoring Grayson’s confused calls of “what? huh?” from behind her.

“Yes way,” Eden sniffled, a nervous laugh coming through as she put a hand over her stomach.

“How far along? When did you find out?”

“A couple days ago, we went to the doctor to find out for sure this morning. She said we’re about 7 weeks.”

Indy pulled her in for a hug.

“Wait. Wait.” Grayson was yelling now, catching on with no doubt a few hints from Ethan. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck, you’re pregnant?! She’s PREGNANT?!” He grabbed his brother’s face with both hands and shook him just barely.

“I’m gonna be a fucking dad,” Ethan said, and Indy melted when she realized he was about to cry.

“You’re gonna be a fucking dad,” Grayson repeated, shaking him twice more before he pulled him in for the tightest hug Indy had ever seen them share. The girls watched them for a moment before Indy turned her attention back to Eden.

“How are you feeling with all this?”

“Well I’ve just started having morning sickness, my appetite has been super weird, vegan cheese makes me want to straight up die…”

“Right right, but I mean like… mentally. You okay? This is a big change.”

Even just standing there, the boy's excitement was slightly overwhelming, especially with Grayson literally running around yelling about being an uncle. She was sure that Ethan had been excited from the moment of a positive test.

“A very big change that we weren’t really expecting,” Eden said quietly, looking down at her manicured toes.

“How are you feeling about it?” Indy asked again, reaching out to hold her hand. Eden squeezed tightly.

“Honestly? I’m fucking terrified,” she admitted. “And Ethan’s been great, it’s not that, it’s just… there’s a human in me. Right now. Just chillin’ in there.”

“Yep, there do be a human in there,” Indy laughed at her bluntness. “What are you scared about?”

“Everything. I’m afraid I’m gonna do something that’s gonna hurt them. I don’t know shit about pregnancy, like real pregnancy, and don’t even get me started on trying to push this thing out of me.”

“We’ve got a while to figure all that out. And you aren’t going to do anything that’s going to hurt them. You’re a good mom.”

“Jesus, a mom. Ethan keeps saying that but it sounds different coming from a woman. A fucking mom. You’re gonna have to teach me all the medical stuff… wait actually no I don’t think I even want to know what’s going on in there. I’ll just focus on figuring out how the fuck I’m gonna be a mom.”

“You’ll be great. And you’ll have Ethan too. Those two were pretty much born to be dads,” Indy said. They turned and looked to see Grayson hauling Ethan up to sit on his shoulders before running what she assumed was a victory lap around the backyard.

“Yeah… remind me of that for the next nine months. Regularly.”

They both started laughing and pulled in for another hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” Indy sighed with the warmest smile, images of baby showers and Eden’s bump and the office as a nursery already spinning through her mind.

“Love you aunt… Indiana? Indy?”

Indy scrunched her nose. “We’ll have to work on that one,” she teased, taking her hand and leading her over to their boys, who were still somehow yelling.

They both came running, but Grayson was faster, scooping Eden up and spinning her around so fast that Ethan was immediately scolding him, urging him to be careful.

“She’s not that delicate bub, it’s okay,” Indy reassured him, getting up on her tiptoes to give Ethan a hug. He squeezed her tight and whispered in her ear.

“She okay? You guys are the first ones we’ve told.”

“Just a little scared, like all pregnant people are. Totally normal.”

“Good. I’m glad you know, she’s been dying to tell a girl. Only so much I can do.”

She leaned back with a smile. “You’re doing great already.”

Those words meant more to Ethan than she would ever know, but all he could do was smile and head back over to Eden, a hand across her tummy when she leaned up against his side.

“We’re gonna tell Li when we’re all home next weekend, but Eden’s parents are coming over for dinner in a little while and we’re gonna tell them now so we can do it in person,” Ethan explained, pressing a kiss to Eden’s hair.

“We’ll make ourselves scarce for the evening,” Indy offered, sensing the nerves already rising for Eden. She’d have enough of an audience.

“Okay but first we gotta get a picture of everybody, we’re gonna make an album of telling everybody.” Ethan was already moving as he spoke, setting his phone up on the patio table with the timer on. They all posed with Ethan pointing excitedly to Eden’s non-existent bump before they all headed back inside, still buzzing with excitement.

Grayson stayed particularly close as they gathered around the island, his hand resting on Indy’s hip as they all settled after a few moments. They all helped to straighten up the house in preparation for Eden’s family’s arrival, and Grayson appeared behind Indiana with a smile as she placed a blanket over the back of the couch.

“Date night?”

Indy had lost count of how many dates they’d been on, but those words never failed to make her stomach swirl.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I know you said you have homework so… Monty’s, secret beach… with flashcards?”

“You truly know the way to my heart.” She kissed him softly and followed him to their room to change into beach clothes. As she sifted through the drawers, she couldn’t help but look at the shelf. It was bigger than the one she’d had in New York, more sturdy with thicker wood and longer, able to hold more frames.

That was a good thing, because there had been some new additions. The picture of Nicole, the baby picture of her and Charlie, and the engagement picture with them and Devin all stood tall beside each other. Down the line came the picture of Indy and Grayson at her graduation, the one where he was dipping her back slightly and wearing her cap. Then was Bekah in her hospital bed - it still made Indy’s chest tight when she looked at it. There were two new ones since then - one of the four of them taken by Lisa in front of their tiny homes, and another of all of them at thanksgiving that they’d finally gotten printed.

“We need to get that picture we just took from Ethan, I wanna put it on the shelf.”

“I’m gonna have to build you another shelf,” he teased as he pulled his swim trunks up.

“Think you’ll probably be building stuff for the nursery first.”

“Shut up, do you really think they’ll let me?” His eyes lit up and Indy laughed as she pulled her New York sweatshirt down over her bikini top.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s gonna be so much fun! What all do you need in a nursery though? I mean a crib, obviously. A dresser? Do you need a dresser for baby clothes or can you just stack them up cause they’re so tiny?”

“We can talk about it while we drive,” Indy redirected him, taking his hand and leading him out of their room, down the hall and out to the car before he could bombard the other couple of the house with questions.

The excitement was palpable for the whole drive, buzzing within the cab as they made their way to Monty’s, ordered their vegan burgers and raspberry lemonades and snuck away to their secret place on the beach.

Considering it was a Wednesday evening, they didn’t expect it to be busy, but they were particularly excited to see that it was completely empty apart from a few stray crabs that went scurrying away at the sound of their footsteps.

Grayson set out the blanket that was always in the back of the tesla for trips like this and Indy set down their bags and drinks, getting everything settled so they could simply sit down and enjoy their meal.

It was peaceful, calm as the ocean lapped up against the sand gently and they filled their tummies. Grayson was done before Indy, per usual, and he basked in the last remnants of the sun while she finished her fries.

“Wanna swim?” Indy asked.

“Thought we were supposed to wait 30 minutes.”

“That’s a myth,” she teased, standing up to her feet and helping him to his. They walked down to the water quickly, gasping a bit at the cold of the water. Still, there was nothing that compared to the feeling of being in the waves, and Indy braved it. Grayson had every muscle tensed against the cold, but he’d follow her anywhere. Soon enough they were up to shoulder height water, kicking gently to get over the waves when they needed to, arms wrapped around each other to keep warm.

“I can’t believe they’re gonna have a kid. Were gonna be Aunt Dee and Uncle Grayson. What the fuck,” Grayson murmured, half distracted by the way the orange of the sky was starting to reflect off of Indy’s eyes.

“It’s gonna be so much fun to have a little one around. They’re gonna be such good parents.”

“You know who would be even better parents? Us,” he beamed. He looked so beautiful when he smiled, and Indy ran her thumb along his jaw.

“Let me finish school and find a job before you go putting a baby in me,” Indy laughed, but her heart warmed at the thought. She remembered the little girl on the highline, and she wanted it for the two of them.

“You’re done in like a year and a half.”

“Correct,” Indy confirmed it.

“I always thought I’d be married before I had a kid,” Grayson said, trying to bite back his excitement.

She wasn’t sure if it was the bliss of the water around them, or the steadiness of his arms, or the fact that she always felt like she was home when she was with him, but in that moment, she knew.

“Okay. Then let’s get married.”

“Are you serious? You aren’t fucking with me? You really wanna get married?”

“Did I ever give you the impression that I didn’t want to marry you someday?” She teased.

Grayson could only laugh, and look up towards the skies and thank whatever angels were listening and watching for all that he’d been given.

He was pretty sure he knew at least three that were there with him.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much. Don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Indy kissed him. The feeling was mutual in the most effortless way, and there was a sense of peace that she wasn’t used to in that moment, knowing that everything would somehow work itself out and she would have him with her for the rest of her life.

And for once, the timeline of her life wasn’t her priority anymore. She didn’t care what date she’d finish school, or when she’d get her job. And she didn’t care when he would propose, or when they’d find out they were having a child of their own. Because in all those moments, whenever they happened, he would be there, and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.

They kissed slow, quiet for a while, and as the sun dipped below the horizon Grayson carried her back out onto the sand. They wrapped themselves up in the same towel and found each other’s lips again, warm and familiar and safe as they lost themselves within one another over and over again.

Her lips were chapped by the time they pulled away, both giddy at the realizations that they’d always know finally being said out loud.

“How much homework do you have?”

“Just studying, I can do it in the morning. What’s the plan?” She knew he wouldn’t have asked if there wasn’t something he wanted to do.

“I’ll show you. Just trust me.”

“Okay,” she answered without a second thought.

Twenty minutes later, with salty hair and big smiles, they pulled up to a tattoo parlor.

“I thought you got all yours from Alexis now?”

“Gotta get this one tonight. Special day.”

Indy looked at the neon signs, and the artwork on the walls through the window. She pondered it for a minute, and something in her told her to go for it.

“I think I’m gonna get one too.”

Grayson perked up at that. “Really?” He knew every inch of her body, knew it would be her first one.

“Something small. Something for Beks.”

He smiled and kissed her temple before he got out to open her door.

Indy went first. A small lightning bolt, like the one on Bekah’s headscarf. And, the thunderstorm of their first date in the city. She got it tucked away behind her ear, in the same place of Grayson’s triple threes. His angel number, and her reminder of both of hers. It didn’t hurt as badly as she thought it would, but Grayson sat beside her anyways, rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand while he held it.

D-O-I-N-G G-O-O-D he wrote.

“Thanks,” she smiled softly. “Bet you won’t even flinch during yours.”

“That's the idea. You can study while I get mine, I want it to be a surprise.”

Hers only took a few minutes, and her lecture material was at the back of her mind once the artist cleaned her up and moved over the Grayson. He grabbed his wallet from her backpack where he’d stowed it and Indy took a seat in one of the chairs in the lobby, occasionally turning her head towards the mirror so she could see her new ink.

Across the shop, Grayson took his shirt off.

“You can pull the letters from these, and I want it right here.” He passed over the stack of flashcards he’d snagged, sure that they’d be able to find what they needed.

“Bitch of a spot,” the artist said quietly as he prepped over his ribs, but he just laughed. From the view of Grayson’s covered legs, he wasn’t sure there was any spot too painful for him.

“She’s worth it,” Grayson said, closing his eyes and waiting. The sting of the needle was familiar, and it did hurt as he moved over each bone. But when he looked in the mirror, it was all worth it. He didn’t even bother putting his shirt on as he paid the artist in cash, including a big tip, and headed out to the lobby.

Indy was sifting through her bag.

“Looking for these?” Grayson held up a small stack of flashcards with a devious grin. “Sorry, had to borrow them for my tat.”

Indy’s brows furrowed, and she stood up, moving closer as he lifted his arm and showed her his ribcage.

In small handwriting, her handwriting, was the word ‘forever’.

“Right where you always trace it.”

To her surprise, her eyes started to burn.

“Gray…” She knew how important his tattoos were to him, what each and every one of them meant.

“Consider it a promise. I’m with you. Forever.”

He ducked down to kiss her, and she smiled against him, hand resting on his torso right below his promise.

She liked the sound of forever.

#SHES DONE #SHES FINISHED HOLY FUCK #mixtape #IM GONNA CRY FR IM TEARING UP OVER HERE

83 notes · View notes

huntsman-ash · 3 years

Text

Headcanon: Pacifica

(Before Sinday begins for me, I give you where Ash and Team CAMO are currently based out of).

Every continent on Remnant has islands off its coasts. Sheered off by water action, by cataclysmic incidents with the tectonics, or simply having formed seperatly, they dot the coastlines of most of Remnant's landmasses.

Solitas is no different. And because its Solitas, and the majority of it is a frozen hellscape, almost every single one has at least some habitation.

One has...quite a lot.

(Please excuse the WoR map, I couldnt find a proper official one and RT are jerks and wont make one that actually works)

This is the island of Pacifica, the largest island in the south-west of Solitas, directly west of Atlas itself and the closest settlement to the small port of Cross's Landing.

Though here it is one single, large island, it is in fact a psudo-chain; the large island of Pacifica, the smaller northerly island of Wakattu, and the uninhabited, cloud-shrouded isle of Peliu.

Though they are the closest island to Atlas, the people who live there are not actually Atlesian, in bloodline or in government. They come from much older stock, a remnant if you will of a forgotten age.

Originally a mostly bare island, with a minor native population of marine faunus (primarily orcas) originating from nearby Wakattu, Pacifica was first founded during the Great War, when (being the closest island to Sanus, which is almost directly south of it via Vytal) it was utilized as an arms and embarkation base alongside Cross's Landing to load the invasion force that would eventually steamroll through northern Vale. As the decade of the Great War rolled on, a city formed to support the base, and to allow for the production, repair, enhancement and resupply of military goods of every sort. As it became more and more important, and more equipment flowed into it, its military asset grew as well. And as the war ground on, Mantle began to fear a counter attack from Vytal into it, and from there, a stepping stone to Solitas itself.

And so they set about building Pacifica into an unbreakable Iron Cage; delving to the shallow sea floor, they raised great walls, thicker even than the ones that would later defend Mantle itself, bristling with Dust shield projectors and defensive batteries. The island itself was enforced with gun batteries, missile systems, aircraft launch systems, air strips, and dockyards for the entire Mantle Navy. A full Army was stationed there at all times, usually new recruits cutting their teeth in combat against raiding parties from Vale or the Grimm that seemed to constantly be attracted to Peliu. The populous was slowly consumed into this, making the island a military nation-state with the explicet purpose of brunting every and all aggression from Vale to Mantle.

And then the Great War ended in Vacuo. Everything stopped. Peace filled the world and everyone was happy.

Except for Pacifica. They weren't particularly happy about what had happened...and they liked the power they had now. No longer were they merely a small outpost of something greater, they had TEETH now.

No pirate or bandit thought to approach them for they new the agonizingly fast death that would result. Aside from Peliu, the Grimm were no threat. Even the Wakattu, who at first had been hesitant to have so much equipment, so close, were grateful to have Pacifica's guns around when the largest of aquatic Grimm inevitably swam to their islands shores, seeking the creature that the people and the island itself were named for, as they had done for time immortal.

So when Mantle offered to take all their equipment back and restore the island to what it was before, the Pacifican Preatorian Defender (their equivilent of a king, or headmaster, or ruler) promptly told them, in no uncertain terms, to "fuck right off". Then Pacifica raised their sheilds, rolled out their guns, and stood on alert for anyone trying to come and take their power by force.

No one did of course. The time after the Great War was one of rebuilding. Mantle simply left Pacifica to do its own thing and 80 years of peace did the rest. Pacifica eventually became a productive member of the King of Vale's imagined peaceful Remnant.

Currently the nation is considered an island-state, with no official affiliation to any kingdom, but heavy trade ties to Atlas specifically (for obvious reasons). Their main imports are technology and Dust, unsurprisingly, with their main exports being aquatic food of all kinds, certain medicines Atlas can't make themselves, and enhancements to existing tech using some of the machinery that Mantle left behind. They also mildly trade with Vale for produce.

At least, that was the situation till the Fall of Vale...and, more recently, the Fall of Atlas.

During the Second Fall, Pacifica went into full military mode again; members of the Pacifica Guard swear up and down the Leviathan Grimm was approaching Pacifica itself, saw how many guns it had pointed at it and the swarm of interceptor fighters and the men and women in armor standing ready to face it...and it turned for Atlas because it would be a softer target.

When the CCTS went down fully, the island effectively went dark, relying on its internal equipment to maintain coms between units and citizens, unable to contact the outside world.

Needless to say, it was a rather nasty shock when, about a day into the siege of Atlas, an airship arrived.

Formerly an SDC Dust carrier, retrofitted into a heavily militarized "pleasure boat", this was the Final Solution, the personal vessel of Tahoma Vulcan of Vulcan Arms. On board was almost every Vulcan Arms employee, several dozen Mantle civilians who'd been swept up, every surviving Atlas "Helljumper" lead by their leader Hood Vulcan, the majority of the ladies of Madam Pappillion's Crystal Unicorn hotel (formerly the Glass Unicorn) alongside the Madam herself...

And Hunter-Killer Fireteam CAMO.

The uproar was quite something, but quickly settled down to military precision, as those that could fight were quickly and seamlessly folded into Pacifica's existing defensive measures.

The Madam and her ladies bid their leave here to settle on Wakattu, reuniting the Madam with her former bodyguard and head of security, Matriarch (head of the Wakattu tribe and its various pods) and the civilians were dispersed into the overall population to rest and recover.

And then literally half a day later, the shattered, battered remains of Atlas's Second Fleet arrived, First having headed south for Argus.

They told a horror story of what happened, of the destruction of the Whale by the Ace Ops, of Ironwoods sudden madness, and how, based on what they'd last seen, the kingdom was GONE, crashed into the tundra, burying Mantle with it.

With precision their forces were folded in as well, forming the First United Solitasian Protectorate Fleet.

And at some point during this, the 2500 meter long monstrosity known as the Spirit of Ice arrived...

And THEN, as if that wasn't enough, a couple dozen scrap-built ships came rolling in from the west, from the seemingly uninhabited dragon continent, all bearing the Grimm Eye of Salem.

Cultists, apparently, humans twisted to her worship or something similar. Madmen and savages to an individual...but in no way, shape, or form even near combat ready.

The USPF SLAUGHTERED them. The vindictive feeling soothed the rage of the Atlesians, and united them all in a common goal. A pact formed in blood of the unworthy, as the Lord Preatorian said.

As of now, Pacifica is the most defended settlement in the north of Remnant. And as of recently, they've finally begun opening the shield again to let teams out, to begin probing the tundra, the Atlas Wastes, and the new lake that covers both kingdoms...

And to let the Hunter-Killer team that shelters among them do their job once more.

#headcanon #rwby

32 notes · View notes

hear-me-growl · 4 years

Text

Of Feathers and Foam | Myg | Drabble | 100 followers!!

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ Aᴏ3 || ↻ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

> sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

“Neither the tempest nor you could scare me, warlock.”

> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: angst | s2l (kind of?) > ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: warlock!Yoongi x shifter!Reader > ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: just white-haired Yoongles, a threat to us all > ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k

💙 ᴀ/ɴ: here’s a little gift to celebrate 100 followers on this blog. I was so excited I wrote this at lighting speed. Enjoy! Thank you all so, so much for your support! 😍

Grey skies, painted with a colorless palette, shift above the warlocks head. The wind drags clouds closer, calling them to war, as the sea rises its foam-crowned soldiers higher. Crashing against cliffs, they roar in a fearless battle cry. Upon hearing them, Yoongi’s spirit joins the soothing harmony, feeling at peace. A storm is coming.

The wet, dark sand hugs his feet and the salt hits his face, tangling in his white locks. Black coat fluttering elegantly behind him, he takes in the beauty of the secret bay he called home. On top of one of its sharp walls, his tower stands proud against the elements. From the roof, a single figure flies towards the sea. You —unequivocally you. He smiles.

No other bird would swoop down so fearlessly, wings flush against body, facing the surface of the ocean as if to attack. Your flight improves everyday —the one aspect of your current nature that you’ve learned to love. Watching you extend your wings at the last second to hover above the waves gracefully, unbothered by the unruly wind, makes his hope swell. He can only wish that one day you’d come to him, smiling proudly as you do when you think he cannot see, and enthuse about your latest trick. If he could ask for one thing to the gods above, it’ll be seeing your smile again. How he misses it. One day, maybe. One day you’d forgive him for shackling your life to his.

He hears your content caws, as you circle the sky above him, feeling without a doubt the rush of freedom only your wings give you. You finally have escaped your cage. Only if the price hadn’t been so high, he could feel happy for you.

Looking up, he remembers your face the first time you spoke to him. On that same place, glancing down the cliff with eagerness.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Your voice sounded like a sad song in his ears, but your eyes burned with fervour. When his met yours, he found the spark of a soul that longs to know, to learn, to feel. The melody of your soul, melancholic notes playing over the brightest colour he’d ever sensed, flooded him. Radiant and somber, your aura was like no other. In that moment, he fell in love.

“The view?”

“No, the thought of turning into seafoam and letting the waves wash you away.”

“You shouldn’t be here, go back to the village. A storm is coming.”

“That is the reason I’m here. I want to see the ocean —powerful, dangerous, magnificent— roaring along the thunder. Would you stay and watch it with me?”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Neither the tempest nor you could scare me, warlock,” you smiled. “Tell me your name.”

“One’s name holds a grave power. It’s a dangerous thing to reveal.”

“Then I’ll give you mine.”

He stayed with you, using his magic to rise the waves higher until they dampened your dress and your hair. You witnessed, mesmerized, as he bent the clouds and drew lightings on the horizon. The words he chanted, foreign to you, made you forget how to breathe in awe.

That night you looked at him with a warmth Yoongi had never felt before. Others fear him and only come to him when his powers are needed. They use him like a tool and never spare him a kind word. Not you, never you. Even now, you always see the man within the warlock.

After that, many nights followed. He learned about your husband, a brute, old man who beat you up whenever he pleased. Sold as a child, a thin cow was the price he had to pay for you. The warlock listened, pained by your suffering. He could read it. Written all over you soul, there was longing. Whenever you begged him to tell you stories about far away places, he knew. You wanted to escape, to live free, and Yoongi would have given you all of it, all of him. Until he lost you.

Drenched in blood, he found you motionless at his door. He panicked. Your aura had almost faded away. The only being that had shown him affection, the only one who’d dared to touch him without fear, was dying before him. The image of your lifeless eyes broke him forever.

That night, the ocean stayed silent, as it too was praying for you. Meanwhile, his tower rumbled with power, an unnatural glow filtering through the windows. It took all his strength, but he managed to tie the remnants of your essence to his carrier crow. He sacrificed the bird for you without a hint of doubt. It went against the laws of magic, he knew, but he had to try. There was no other solution. However, the life of the animal wasn’t enough for the exchange. Yoongi gave a piece of himself too, tipping the balance in your favour. He was aware of the consequences, of what it would do to you and even so, he selfishly used the forbidden spell. He couldn’t lose you, not when he loved you so deeply. Not when he hadn’t had the chance to let you know.

The flutter of your wings and the ugly sound of cracking bones brings him back to the present, to you, now reaching for him to steady your pace with a trembling hand. Once again, the tears of pain in your eyes are engraved in his memory along his many other sins. He is quick to aid you, watching the spine of black feathers retreat back into your skin.

“That was magnificent,” he praised. “I thought you were a comet falling down from the sky.”

Looking up at him, you see the tint of guilt all over his face. Ever since you died and he brought you back, his eyes changed. Where there once was love, now there’s pain. At first you thought he deserved it, for turning you into a monster. For making such an important decision for you, for not letting you go. Now, you don’t know anymore. A part of you longs to see his smile once again. You miss it.

“Would you watch the storm with me tonight?”

His face lights up at your words and he nods carefully, still waiting for your to reject his touch when he brings a hand to caress your face.

Maybe, with time, you could both learn to forgive him.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ, ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ © hear-me-growl, July 2020

#bts fic #bts angst #s2l #fantasy!au #witch!au #hybrid!au #yoongi #drabble #hearmegrowl #mystories #fic:of feathers and foam #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader

27 notes · View notes

ao3feed-sephcloud · 4 years

Text

Carrier

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3fG5b4o

by GoddessofRoyalty

“Shit Spike, what have they done to you?” Zack asks, unable to stop himself from reaching out and touching Cloud’s huge stomach. Resting his hand against the stretch-mark covered flesh.

Zack had known his friend was an omega. Cloud never much tried to hide it as much as he never really broadcasted it either.

To think Shinra had reduced him to nothing more than a womb for them.

A womb for Hojo.

(Or: yet another 'Cloud is the Remnants carrier' verse - this time with omegaverse in play)

Words: 566, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Cloud Strife, Zack Fair, Kadaj (Compilation of FFVII), Loz (Compilation of FFVII), Yazoo (Compilation of FFVII)

Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, It's All Hojo's (Compilation of FFVII) Fault, Forced Pregnancy, Body Horror

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3fG5b4o

#ao3feed #fanfic #sefikura #sephcloud #ffvii #ff7

4 notes · View notes

scifigeneration · 6 years

Text

Did key building blocks for life come from deep space?

All living beings need cells and energy to replicate. Without these fundamental building blocks, living organisms on Earth would not be able to reproduce and would simply not exist.

Little was known about a key element in the building blocks, phosphates, until now. University of Hawaii at Manoa researchers, in collaboration with colleagues in France and Taiwan, provide compelling new evidence that this component for life was found to be generated in outer space and delivered to Earth in its first one billion years by meteorites or comets. The phosphorus compounds were then incorporated in biomolecules found in cells in living beings on Earth.

The breakthrough research is outlined in "An Interstellar Synthesis of Phosphorus Oxoacids," authored by UH Manoa graduate student Andrew Turner, now the assistant professor at the University of Pikeville, and UH Manoa chemistry Professor Ralf Kaiser in the September issue of Nature Communications.

According to the study, phosphates and diphosphoric acid are two major elements that are essential for these building blocks in molecular biology. They are the main constituents of chromosomes, the carriers of genetic information in which DNA is found. Together with phospholipids in cell membranes and adenosine triphosphate, which function as energy carriers in cells, they form self-replicating material present in all living organisms.

In an ultra-high vacuum chamber cooled down to 5 K (-450°F) in the W.M. Keck Research Laboratory in Astrochemistry at UH Manoa, the Hawaii team replicated interstellar icy grains coated with carbon dioxide and water, which are ubiquitous in cold molecular clouds, and phosphine. When exposed to ionizing radiation in the form of high-energy electrons to simulate the cosmic rays in space, multiple phosphorus oxoacids like phosphoric acid and diphosphoric acid were synthesized via non-equilibrium reactions.

"On Earth, phosphine is lethal to living beings," said Turner, lead author. "But in the interstellar medium, an exotic phosphine chemistry can promote rare chemical reaction pathways to initiate the formation of biorelevant molecules such as oxoacids of phosphorus, which eventually might spark the molecular evolution of life as we know it."

Kaiser added, "The phosphorus oxoacids detected in our experiments by combination of sophisticated analytics involving lasers, coupled to mass spectrometers along with gas chromatographs, might have also been formed within the ices of comets such as 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko, which contains a phosphorus source believed to derive from phosphine." Kaiser says these techniques can also be used to detect trace amounts of explosives and drugs.

"Since comets contain at least partially the remnants of the material of the protoplanetary disk that formed our solar system, these compounds might be traced back to the interstellar medium wherever sufficient phosphine in interstellar ices is available," said Cornelia Meinert of the University of Nice (France).

Upon delivery to Earth by meteorites or comets, these phosphorus oxoacids might have been available for Earth's prebiotic phosphorus chemistry. Hence an understanding of the facile synthesis of these oxoacids is essential to untangle the origin of water-soluble prebiotic phosphorus compounds and how they might have been incorporated into organisms not only on Earth, but potentially in our universe as well.

Turner and Kaiser worked with Meinert and Agnes Chang of National Dong Hwa University (Taiwan) on this project.

#science #space #astrobiology #science news #origins of life

27 notes · View notes

page-of-tales · 5 years

Text

Story: The Fishing Lure

My first attempt at a "proper" space battle. I hope the jump in style isn’t too jarring. Feedback is always appreciated.

[Previously in VGuns and Precursor to War] Sovereign Prince Avakor had thought to start war with the Federation by massacring it’s people in the Striated Ridge. His plot was successful and now with the Jollan Principalities in open warfare against the Federation he assumes control over his people. But the Federation has sent the 6th Fleet to quell the war and arrest Avakor for his crimes. The Jollans place their faith in a technology that helped them before in the First Jollan-Federation War, advanced cloaking technology which has remained unbeatable for its entire creation.

High Prince Klepton the Bold sat on the bridge of his warhip. The proud and venerable Kolaxian Warbeast class dreadnaught, Yellow Lightning. Outfitted with several dozen plasma launcher arrays, half a dozen missile tubes, and a veteran crew he himself had led many times. Just one of the many ships that had assembled at the call of Sovereign Prince Avakor. High Prince Avakor had fired up the Jollan Princes, urging them to defend their sovereignty against the invading human Federation. In that first battle the Jollan Princes had emerged victorious, ambushing the force sent to arrest the Sovereign Prince and sending them fleeing with hulls burning. More Princes had rallied to the cause since then.

High Prince Klepton had been one of Avakor’s staunchest supporters had therefore been granted the honor of drawing first blood against the human invaders. There were around 150 warships in his fleet, the combined strength of 7 Principalities flew under his banner. His forces would be the stone against which the Federation wave would crash against. The High Prince knew the stakes of this first battle. The renewed reputation of the Jollan Principalities would be founded on this battle.

Klepton turned to face the battle board. On it were displayed the positions of his warships. A dotted line representing the tentative scouting reports of the human fleet, any obstructions such as planets or gaseous clouds absent in the region. A low growl emanated from him. He would have preferred to have brought his forces directly to defend the warp point leading to the Striated Ridge, however the Federation had already seized it already. The damned Keller Treaty once again interfering, another mark against the Federation. The delay in gathering the Princes meant they know had to fight without the advantage of a warp point defense. However he was not undeterred.

His plan for battle was simple. In the first Jollan-Federation War the Jollans held a clear advantage and that was their cloak. Invisible death which wreaked chaos on the human fleets. Individual captains would race to destroy more ships than their fellows. Such a crucial technology would have seemed to turn the war in the Jollan’s favor. The failing of the past was that there were so few Jollan warships to fight the humans. The complex technology being limited to capital ships, and requiring decades to construct. Further compounded by the nature of the Jollan Principalities.

The Principalities had no centralized army, with authority spread amongst a noble class.. Each Jollan planet was governed by a Prince. All Princes held equal rank in the Jollan Council. The function of the Council is an arena of arbitration between infighting Princes. It is also for major decisions such as interstellar war, or of changes to the fundamental laws. Power blocs in this structure formed through the swearing of fealty. A Prince who swore fealty to another Prince, put themselves and their planet at the beck and call of another. A Grand Prince would have the service of five other Princes. A High Prince would have at least 10. And a Sovereign Prince would have 20 or more. This structure of alliances created the Principalities who managed their territory in their own manner. As such their armed forces tended to be limited and funded by the individual Princes whose resources and capabilities widely varied.

Still many had expected the Federation to return and had prepared accordingly. Two informal but powerful blocs had formed in the aftermath of the First Jollan-Federation War. The equivalent of the dove and hawk, but in Jollan perception were the Chorda (hawk) and the Bidae (dove). The Chorda had ramped up military spending. The result creating 10 times as many ships as back in the First Jollan-Federation War. A formidable force which cowed the Bidae into silence.

The human fleet was expected to be slightly larger, perhaps 300 if not a little more. Their expected target was the Hukol system, the closest system of significance to the warp point. Scouts had reported they were on a straight path for Hukol confirming that suspicion. Klepton planned to ambush them along the route. Using deployed hyperspace disruptors to force them out of hyperspace at an optimal range for his weapons before engaging them with approximately ⅓ of his fleet. The other thirds of his fleet would maneuver to block their flank and rear. With a bit of luck the human fleet would be annihilated before they could figure out where they were being shot from. The acclaim the victory would bring him much in the coming years. Princes signing over fealty to him, perhaps even the top spot of the Chorda alliance.

One of the deck officers received an alert at his station. “Human fleet spotted on course as expected.” He announced.

Klepton nodded, acknowledging the report with a have of his hand. There was no need for him to bark orders. The plan was already in motion. His hands rubbed the pommels of his chair, anticipation building within him. He was eager to slaughter the humans who dared assumed they had any say in Jollan affairs. There would be no mercy for the enemies of the Jollans.

In a little under an hour the battle initiated. The hyperspace disruptors activated, ejecting the human fleet from transit. The flashes of light as the ships emerged from hyperspace announcing their arrival. To the human’s credit the ambushed ships didn’t stand in place. They immediately began moving. Spreading out and dodging wildly in anticipation of attack. Still at this range Jollan fire managed to destroy several ships immediately, and more firepower was being poured on as the rest of the human fleet was pulled out of hyperspace.

Klpeton chuckled as he watched the plasma inferno wreak havoc on the human ships. It was almost too easy. One of his deck officers rose to his feet and walked over to him.

“Sir, I think you should look at this.”

Klepton glared at the Jollan before looking at his battle board. Numbers and readouts were scrolling past as information poured in. He did a double take, something odd overturning his mood. With an alarmed reaction he leapt to his feet. Only a hundred Federation ships had been pulled out of hyperspace, the vast majority of which had been battleships or heavy cruisers. The upper tier capital ships were absorbing firepower like a sponge. The rate of destruction decreasing sharply as the shields flashed online.

Klepton ordered his ships to fall back realizing he had been deceived, railing at his commander to regroup. However a number of Princes simply ignored the orders, intent on earning as many kills as possible. Klepton whirled as new information blipped on is battle screen. Another contingent of the Federation fleet was emerging from hyperspace. Assembling in orderly fashion the battle line of frigates, cruisers, and carriers were at a distance far beyond the optimal range of the cloaked Jollan ships. Klepton recognizing an opportunity to regain the advantage ordered his flanking wing to instead intercept the emerging force and he watched as the cloaked vessels diverted towards the new threat. The incoming Federation capital ships held back, taking the time to power up systems to battle conditions. However a swarm of fighters dashed ahead heading straight towards the battle.

Klepton ordered his commanders to ignore the fighters. Their priority were the carriers. Klepton watched the fighters close in. They would pass close to the ambush wing and he didn’t want any of his commanders to reveal their position by massacring the fighters. He shouldn’t have worried. At close range the fighters suddenly let loose their ordinance. Missiles and lasers carved up the cloaked ships like hot knives in butter. Klepton recoiled in shock as his a whole section of his fleet was wiped out within seconds.

In the back of his mind he realized that somehow the Humans had seen through their cloak. As if to confirm it the battleships they had surrounded suddenly intensified their fire. For a moment he was stunned. The humans had baited him and he had taken it like a fool. His perfect plan had been shattered as easily as glass. More ships were destroyed, sudden explosions marking the destruction of more cloaked ships. It was the growing desperation of his deck officers that shook him out of his shock. He yelled at the helmsman to get them away as fast as possible. It didn’t matter where, just away from here.

The remnants of the Jollan fleet fled into hyperspace in a disordered manner. Nearly half of the Jollan fleet had been destroyed in battle. In comparison only a dozen human ships had been destroyed, and most would be fine after a stay in the repair yards. The Battle of Hukol firmly determined human dominance in space. Schriver’s Gamble, also known as the Fishing Lure Maneuver would be recorded and discussed as either a fortunate thing, or stroke of genius. High Prince Klepton would never be heard of again. The remainder of the Jollan fleets would revert to hit and run raids wherever they could, and try to salvage their strength. But they would never again directly challenge the human forces in fleet to fleet combat for the rest of the war. Their faith in their supposedly superior technology had been utterly broken like a table leg sending confidence tumbling to the floor. Thus the hunt for the Chorda leaders descended onto the planets.

#hfy #story #writing #sci fi

3 notes · View notes

goddessofroyalty · 2 months

Text

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Verse: Cloud is the Remnant’s carrier

Tags: omegaverse, past-mpreg, some mention of force-pregnancy

I’m far enough into the Rebirth to start writing this thing again.

Promise this isn’t just going to become a series of different characters learning about the Remnant triplets existence, just halfway through writing this I had a moment of “wait does Red XIII even know about any of the kids?” so had to include that.

-----------

“What’s wrong?”

Spike looks actively pained to be asking the question so Barret really must be looking pathetic in his feeling sorry for himself now they’re all settled into the hotel for the night. Their merc may be a ‘mega but he was no damn good at warm and fuzzy stuff like most would expect of his designation.

“It’s nothing,” Barret says. Not wanting to drag the mood down on their first night on the road after escaping Midgar and Shinra.

“Just thinking ‘bout Marlene is all,” Barret says, just as Cloud sits on the other bed probably satisfied that he’d at least asked. They say stress shared is stress halved. And if anyone would understand what Barret was going through it’d be their resident former-SOLDIER. “It’d be about her bedtime now. And I ain’t there to read her her story.”

It was damned unfair that he had to leave his baby girl behind so he could go save the planet from what Shinra had done. Marlene deserves her daddy being there to say goodnight and instead he’s out hunting down Sephiroth.

“Elmyra will make sure she gets one,” Cloud says, laying back down on his bed for the night.

“Yeah, but will she do all the voices right? And will she make sure to explain exactly how the hero rallies the people against the evil dictator?” Marlene was particular about these things after all. It’d even taken Tifa a bit to get it right back when she first started babysitting when Barret had to go out on Avalanche business.

Spike just shrugs.

“You have a child?” Red asks before Barret has a chance to have a go at the merc for his lack of carrying about something so important.

“Huh? Yeah. We both do.” Had they not mentioned that before?

Barret digs out the photo of his baby girl he takes with him everywhere for whenever he needs to be reminded of why he’s doing this again to show their newest party member his princess.

“That’s Marlene. She’s my baby girl. The brightest kid you ever could meet.” Barret doesn’t try and keep the pride from his voice. Why should he? Marlene deserves his love for her shouted from the rooftops. “And Cloud’s are- uh-“

“Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo,” Cloud rattles off before Barret accidently messes up their weird ass names. “They’re- uh-“

Spike’s brow furrows in pained confusion and maybe Barret shouldn’t have brought the kids up. It’s easy for him to talk about his baby girl without including the shit Shinra put them through but the mega’ merc can’t. No real way to explain his babies without talking ‘bout their monster sire.

“They’re triplets,” Barret offers because he’s not an asshole that gonna’ force the ‘mega to say anything he don’t wanna’. What matters is that they’re Spike’s. “And you telling me you’re not thinking about how you’re not there to tuck them in and sing them to sleep?”

“I- don’t,” Cloud says, looking a bit better than he had moments ago. His expression is still confused but it doesn’t take much for that Barret’s figured out.

“You don’t sing to them?” Barret doesn’t imagine the merc has the most beautiful singing voice around but that’s not what it’s about. He used to sing to Marlene despite barely being able to hold a tune. Still does when she asks, although when it comes to singing its Tifa and Jesse she begs for it from and Barret can’t even be mad about it – they’ve got the best voices in Avalanche. “You read them bedtime stories then!?”

“No,” Cloud says with a shake of his head.

“Seriously!?” He knew the poor bugger was in over his head with three babies on his hands but he didn’t realize it was that bad.

“I – they’re babies,” Cloud says, sitting up on the bed with the befuddled confused expression that makes people underestimate him even with him still wearing his SOLDIER uniform. “They wouldn’t understand them anyway.”

“It’s not about them understanding! It’s about them hearing your voice!” It’s not doing shit like that that gets you people like Sephiroth. Which, shit, they probably gotta’ be extra careful with those three to counteract whatever psychotic genes they got from that bastard.

He can’t even be that mad at Spike about it either. The poor bastard had been dealt a shit hand with the three of them and seemed to be struggling enough just keeping them and himself alive. Tifa had warned Barret the ‘mega suffered from nightmares when it was decided they and Red would room together and the three babies are young enough they likely don’t sleep through he night either. Hard to think about lullaby’s and bedtime stories when you’re barely getting any rest yourself.

Marlene would be making sure Elymira gave them all bedtime stories for the time being. But the kids weren’t staying with Aerith’s mum forever.

“Right. When we get back from saving the planet we’re gonna’ make sure they keep getting stories every night as well.” Marlene’ll no doubt be used to living with the three as well by the time they get back – no point trying to separate them again.

“You don’t have to,” Spike says because he’s allergic to asking for help.

“It’s nothing. And I can’t leave it up to you to try and tell a story – you’d miss half the facts.” Might take him a while to train the merc up to being any good at it but Barret’s one of the best bed-time story tellers around so if anyone can do it it’ll be him.

“I-“ Spike goes to protest.

“I know some tales as well,” Red chimes in, looking actually excited at the idea. “It will be good to pass them down to the next generation.”

“Hell yeah!” Barret says more to keep the energy going and prevent Spike from trying and squashing the idea. “I’m sure the girls have some too. We’ll have to build a roster. Though I’m always going to be my baby girl’s favorite.”

“We’ll see about that,” Red says, sounding mighty confident considering he had been a lab experiment until a couple hours back. Barret’s not giving up his title as the best storyteller without a fight, he’ll be sure to win Cloud’s three over as well.

It’s better than Cloud shouldering the burden of what Shinra did to him alone.

#Final Fantasy VII #Cloud is the remnants carrier #mpreg #Final Fantasy mpreg #omegaverse #Final Fantasy omegaverse #Cloud Strife #barret wallace #Red XIII #I accidently a ficlet

11 notes · View notes

albertfinch · 1 year

Text

You are part of a remnant of people who have eyes to see, faith to believe, and courage to advance in order to move forward, in His authority, into places and situations you have not yet experienced but are awaiting as part of your destiny.

Declare TODAY that the Holy Spirit is opening your eyes to see beyond the veil that the enemy has brought to blind you to the glory of the Lord moving in your midst. Now, see into the unseen realm with the eyes of your spiritual understanding enlightened, so that you can perceive that God is for you, moving on your behalf and sending you forth (Ephesians 1:17-23).

The measure of faith you have received is even now being activated, so you can believe and rise up from the place where you have been passive and overtaken by the spirit of oppression. Even now, it is breaking off, and the cloud of confusion is lifting. Rise up!

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1)

You were created to be a carrier of His glory! He is with you and sending you forth in the power of His Spirit to accomplish what He has ordained for you from before time (Ephesians 2:10). Open your eyes to see the Captain of the Lord of hosts and His angel armies surrounding you. Keep your eyes on Him and go as He leads; there are more for you than against you (2 Kings 6:16-17).

0 notes

glitchinthesystemspiderbyte · 6 years

Text

[41] Glitch in the System - Running Forward

By E.

A discussion of coping happens.

The blaring sound of an alarm pulled Sombra out of a deep, dreamless sleep into a very confusing and loud reality.

“Widow,” she said, rolling over and blearily smacking at the other woman’s face. “Widow.”

The spider looked at her through her sharp golden eyes. “I am awake, Sombra.”

“Alarm’s going off.”

“Yes,” she replied. “That is what woke me up.”

“Oh,” Sombra said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Widow woke up with such clarity, in stark contrast to Sombra who emphatically did not, and it always took her an embarrassing few moments to catch up.

“Gabe?” she yawned, speaking through her internal connection to the Talon network. “Why is everything terrible?”

“Gas leak,” came the response from a voice that was decidedly not Gabriel’s. The soft brogue in Moira’s voice sounded strained, like a wire stretched too tight. “Please exit the building.”

“What did you do, Moira?” Sombra asked, fatigue fleeing her body at the potential of there being an actual threat at hand.

“There was a mishap,” she replied, voice flat. “In the lab.”

“A mishap?”

“Please exit the building, Sombra,” was Moira’s deadpan response, and the connection was broken.

“Explain?” Widowmaker said, already out of bed and getting dressed.

“Get the cat and meet me on the roof,” she said. “Moira broke something.”

It was chilly outside, and Sombra made liberal use of the thermal heating upgrades Widow had installed in her jacket for the holidays. Toulouse seemed fine swaddled in blankets in his carrier, and Widowmaker was the same sentient icicle as always.

“Not cold?” Sombra asked, just to make sure.

“I don’t even feel it,” was Widowmaker’s casual reply. Sombra rolled her eyes, setting Toulouse down in an alcove out of the light breeze before placing herself beside him, cross-legged on the cold stone.

“I wonder what happened?” Widow mused, sniffing at the air. She peered over the edge of the roof to see Akande frantically waving at someone on the inside, and they heard the sounds of windows being opened one by one.

“Probably some horrific experiment. Here’s hoping the building doesn’t blow up,” Sombra groaned.

“Coming to the roof was your idea,” Widowmaker said, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, well, I’ll risk considerable physical injury to avoid having to deal with Moira while she’s flustered.” She patted the space beside her. “C’mere. Check this out,” she said, pulling her hands apart such that long, string-like slivers of light stretched out between her fingertips, flashing purple in the dwindling light. Twisting her fingers, she flipped her hands around, manipulating them like physical objects until she turned the strands of light into what looked like a small, much less detailed replica of the Eiffel Tower.

“Are you playing string games with hard light?” Widowmaker asked, amusement edging her voice.

“Come here,” she said again, gesturing with her head. Widowmaker obliged, sitting down beside her and looking in her direction quizzically.

“Take ‘em,” she said, holding it out.

“Where?” Widow asked, confounded at the request.

Sombra rolled her eyes. The sniper’s occasional befuddlement at the simplest of things was a constant source of amusement for her. “Here. Right in the center,” she said, and four of the strings flashed brightly. “Pinch them.”

Widowmaker, reached out daintily, stopping just short of committing. “These?”

“Didn’t you play string games as a kid?” Sombra asked, laughing.

“I did not play games,” she said, frowning. Leaning forward slowly, she closed her fingers against the light.

“Of course you didn’t,” Sombra sighed. “Now - pull.”

Widowmaker did as she was told, and when she opened her hands, the light created a latticework ladder between her hands. She frowned, holding it above her head, peering beneath the glowing strands as if to locate some trap or mystery she couldn’t see from the top.

“What did you do?” she asked, flexing her hands. The light danced whimsically.

“Nothing, araña. It’s just clever manipulation of patterns.” Leaning forward, she pressed a finger against the center of the lattice. “Boop,” she said, and the light vanished into a shower of painless sparks. “I used to do this for the street kids, before I disappeared. They loved it. Thought I was some sort of magician.”

“It would not be too far from the truth,” Widowmaker replied, watching the remnants of the shattered light waft in the air until it flickered out.

“No magic, only tech,” Sombra replied, shrugging. “Frankly I felt more magical before all the upgrades. Back then was like pulling digital rabbits out of other people's’ hats. Now I’m the hat, and people just kind of give me their rabbits without realizing it.” She didn’t think back on her early years very often, although the memories were still sharp as knives.

“It is strange to think of you entertaining children,” Widow said, leaning back on her elbows and looking at the hacker.

Sombra laughed. “I love kids. Blank slates.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“Also capable of accepting more than most adults. Kids are malleable, less judgemental, and bounce back faster. Especially kids who’ve seen some shit.” She shrugged. “I guess I empathize with that flexibility. I had to embrace it a lot myself.”

Widowmaker looked away, those golden eyes intense as always as she stared into space at some unknown point on the horizon. “You do not speak much about your childhood.”

“There’s not much to know”

“I find that unlikely.” Widowmaker paused, and Sombra could tell there was a knot of words sticking in her throat that she was doing her best to untangle before speaking them. “It is just that there is this large blank spot that I do not know about you.” She turned her head, her expression neutral, positing a request Sombra hadn’t prepared herself for. “I would like to, perhaps.”

“Oh,” Sombra replied, the lighthearted nature of their rooftop getaway fizzling like dust in a breeze before her. “It’s a common enough story: young girl watches parents be murdered by rogue omnics, survives with a wild band of other orphans until city gang notes her talents and takes her in.” She held her hands up as though displaying a billboard. “You know - the usual stuff.”

Widowmaker chuckled lightly. “There is nothing normal about you, cherie,” she said, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re so sweet,” Sombra said, grinning back.

“Do you, ah,” Widow continued, stretching her legs out restlessly before her, “remember your parents?”

Sombra tilted her head slightly. “Of course. In vivid detail. My mother used to sing me lullabies to help me sleep. I always had trouble, you know - too many thoughts, not enough time to get them out during the day.” Laughing, she pressed herself closer to Widowmaker, nuzzling her cheek into her shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder if she’d be proud of who I’ve become.”

Widowmaker looked at her expectantly, not offering an opinion in the matter.

“Probably not,” Sombra eventually followed up on her own. “She was terrified of technology. Ironic, really, considering how she and dad died.” She felt her voice falter a bit as she spoke, a wave of unexpected emotion pressing against her throat unbidden.

“You sound as though you miss them,” the sniper said, sounding a trifle awkward as she picked her words.

Sombra shrugged. “Of course I miss them. I - their death stayed with me for so long. Weighed on me like a lead blanket; kept me warm on cold nights spent huddled on the streets with the other orphans. We’d all lost so much, you know?” She looked up at the sky, the sun shining out from behind a cloud, basking them in its warmth even as the air around them was chilled. “Some of us let it destroy us,” she said, running a hand idly through her hair. “A lot of my friends just sort of dried up slowly.”

“Not you, though,” Widow said, brushing her fingertips lightly against the back of Sombra’s arm.

Sombra shrugged a shoulder. “I guess I just figured, if my life was going to be destroyed, then I wanted to rebuild it how I wanted. I needed something to control, and the only thing I really could reliably was myself. I let the loss drive me; push me forward until I was running.”

Reaching over, she undid the lock from Toulouse’s carrier. Widow made a halfhearted attempt at stopping her, but the big tom pushed his way out of the crate and directly into Sombra’s lap with little resistance. Sombra ran her hand along his fur, feeling the comforting rumble of his chest against her palm. “At first it felt a lot like I was running away from the past, but at some point I realized I’d started running towards the future.” It was a thing she’d not given much thought to over the years, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how true it was.. “I guess I haven’t really stopped running yet.”

“I am...sorry,” Widow said, reaching a tentative hand out to comfort her. Sombra felt her palm settle between her shoulder blades and smiled.

“It’s not a big deal. I like being in motion.”

Widowmaker stared at her, struggling with something. “You do not seem to be a creature of struggle,” she said, then blanched slightly. “I did not mean that as...I do not mean to dismiss your experiences.” She pursed her lips, eyes narrowed as she sought out the proper words for what she was trying to say. Sombra waited, patient as ever, for her to settle on them. “I just mean that you do not wear your trauma. Not the way Gabriel and...I do.”

Sombra looked curiously up at Widow, seeing her in a new sort of light. She’d always struggled to understand how Widowmaker couldn’t use her experiences as fuel to push herself forward, to forge a way for herself in the world despite her pain. Now she considered that, while she’d started running to cope, Widowmaker had simply stood still.

“I wear it everyday, Widow. My trauma shaped me, sure - they’re experiences that made me who I am today. But I’m not my trauma, you know?” she said. “I was just there for it; I grew from it. It will always be a part of who I am, but,” she considered her words carefully for a long time. “But it informs who I am, not the other way around.”

“How do you reconcile your loss?” Widow asked, pointedly, and through the veil of some muted agony. “To press onward despite all that was done to you?”

Sombra frowned, thoughtfully, letting her mind wander back to some of the memories she had held onto over the years. “I had a cat, once, when I was very young. My father got him for me as a birthday present.” She reached down and scratched behind Toulouse’s ears, smiling as he pressed his head against her palm. “I loved that cat more than anything else in my life. More than my computer, more than my friends, hell,” she looked up, “more than my parents sometimes, it felt like.”

“The start to this story makes me very nervous,” Widowmaker said, using one finger to scritch Toulouse under his chin. He purred louder and lifted his chin up, eyes closed.

Sombra smirked. “A year after I got him, he escaped the house and got hit by a car, right in front of my eyes. I was a wreck - inconsolable for days after. I wouldn’t let anyone in my room and I barely ate.”

Widowmaker squeezed her hand underneath Toulouse’s rumbling belly. “What happened?” she asked gently.

“Well, eventually I’d cried myself into silence, and stopped treating my parents like the bad guys. My dad came in with my favorite meal -”

“- sugary cereal?” Widowmaker interjected.

“Tamales, jerk,” Sombra laughed, bumping against her with her shoulder. “He brought me fresh tamales, set them down next to me, and said ‘Olivia, you will miss Manzanita for the rest of your life,’ and I looked at him like he was crazy until he continued. ‘But love is what gives loss its sting, which means that you will always have that love for him, too.’” Chuckling to herself, she shook her head. “I think that’s what really got me through it all, you know? The knowledge that, while I have lost more than most, it also means that I have loved more than most.”

Widowmaker watched her, mired in a deep silence that lasted well over a minute. Sombra couldn’t imagine what it was she was thinking - when it came to emotions, Widowmaker was either a fountain of confusion or a tight-lipped vault. Right now, though, she mostly seemed thoughtful, contemplative and, perhaps, a little sad.

“I am happy you had that solace,” she said, finally, raising a hand to brush her knuckles against Sombra’s cheek. “And I am pleased at the woman you have become.”

“Thanks spider,” she replied, grinning like an idiot.

“I do have to ask you something, though.”

“Shoot.”

Taking a deep breath, Widowmaker closed her eyes for one long, exasperated moment. “You named your cat Little Apple?”

Sombra laughed, shoving her playfully, interrupting Toulouse’s snooze. “Jerk,” she said. “Now hug me, I made myself sad.”

“I am here, cherie,” the sniper murmured against her ear, wrapping her arms around her and the black and white ball of fur in her lap. Listening to the occasional loud outburst from the yard below, they settled for a quiet afternoon of watching the clouds pass by until the mansion was ready for them to return.

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic. Table of contents located here.

#spiderbyte #sombramaker #widowsombra #sombra x widowmaker #widowmaker x sombra #sombra #olivia colomar #widowmaker #amélie lacroix #amelie lacroix #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fandom #overwatch fic #glitch in the system #glitchfic

38 notes · View notes

humans-are-space-orcs · 7 years

Text

Okay, a bit more on the violent, semi-pessimistic, more stereotypically Orcish side of things. Possible triggers. Graphic. R-word.

A bit of backstory to this little hypothesis: Humans figured out our differences somehow. Terrorism peaked, religions crumbled, and we had one REEEAAALLY big bad bloody war. Lots of people died. Man’s inhumanity to man. Rape, humiliation, genocide, slaughter of innocents, Armageddon, Ragnarök. That sort of thing. We vowed through accords and treaties, even in the colonization of other worlds and systems (and any conflicts that may result from such) we would seek to end things peacefully, because everyone’s just so tired. They don’t want to spill blood anymore. They vow to protect their societies and their children from such horrors ever again, and never visit such a low point ever again for the sake of humanity. Call it the Blooding Years. Makes the World Wars, Holocaust and the Crusades look tame.

Jump forward a few hundred or good thousand years.

Race really isnt a thing anymore, save for a few varied vestigal traits here and there. People are still spiritual and have faiths and superstitions, and we have made our peace with nature and spirituality, but organized religion itself is something mostly relegated to our bloody past. Although we put the Blooding Years behind us, something so profound is sure to leave some marring and scars on the general psyche of a people, even generations down the line. We are as peaceful as we can be, despite gallows humor and general mental maladjustment taking a spike in recent generations. So, in short, we’re just a bunch of vaguely beige space monkeys with twitchy temperaments trying to be peaceful and stuff.

We have spread to a few systems outside Sol. We’ve contacted a handful of species out in the stars. Xenophobia was a thing, but we’re getting over it. We have a few ‘hybrid’ systems where we coexist, a la [insert sci-fi title here] style. Aliens are learning to like us for our resilency and hard work, but having learned from our history (which was liberally gifted to those among them that would read it), they give us a wide berth, despite keeping steady trade and peaceful relations.

And then, as the old saying goes, shit happens.

A bunch of genocidal xenophobic maniacs come out of nowhere and decide “WE OWN THIS SHIT, AND YOU ARE AN AFFRONT TO GARGASCHMARGAL THE BLOODY! YOU MUST BE [insert evil villain endgame here] !!!” and essentially try to out-Space-Orc the Space Orcs. The Galactic Union, or whatever the assembly of alien races view themselves as (and with which we are allied with but decide not to unify with) launch an offensive! They fight! They clash! In the words of Willem Dafoe, “THERE WAS A FIRE FIGHT!”

Annnnd they lose. Horribly. Entire fleets are laid waste. Worlds fall. Star systems crumble. Trillions die.

And then, after their bloody campaign, having beaten back even the forces bolstered by humans, and after enslaving or euthanizing any other people that stood before them, they arrived at the doorstep to human space, and after a gorefest, essentially Hiroshima a garden world. Eden-in-the-Wind.

-cue the seriousness-

Word got back to Earth, Inner, and Outer Colonies. Eden-in-the-Wind is gone. Dust. Vids came back from the now-dead world. Women and children executed. People being eaten as they are simultaneously being used for sexual pleasure. An infant used as a soccer ball. Skulls with still-bleeding vertebra dangling from belts.

Mayhem bore its crown. The wolf stirred. And Hell reigned.

Those allied aliens that remained and sought refuge on human worlds watched in horror as formal governments dissolved, treaties were burnt, and every human down to the last howled into the winds. We embraced the ways of old. We broke hockey sticks for impromptu spears. We cannibalized vehicles for their precious metal, so that they could have blades to drink blood with. We melted down memorials, so that we could have bullets to slay foes with. We renamed our ships, which served as names of peace and progress and remembrance. They now beared the names of hatred, and death, and destruction; Sathanna, Gehena, Lucifer, Ragnarök, Deluge, Armageddon, Uziel, Uoke, Shiva.

What once was an organized military force was now a hodge-podge fleet of battleships, cargo ships, carriers, dreadnoughts, and even civilian transports. Children carried rifles. Mothers carried swords. Fathers carried axes. Brothers and sisters exchanged spears and pistols. Bitter neighbors mended fences in the name of vengeance. The wheel turned once more, and the wolf within no longer stirred, but ruthlessly hunted, awoken by the stench of blood and gore.

The ships more or less crash, stead of land. We find whatever worlds these bugs have taken, and fall upon it as a horde of foaming teeth.

Allied aliens deemed it appropriate to seek revenge alongside, but were appaled by the horror that humanity was so easy and ready to visit upon these foes. They partook in adrenaline shots and metabolized psilocybin. They drunk of alcohol distilled from the blood of these genocidal demons. They detonated bombs that had still-screaming enemies piled atop them beforehand. They sent crates full of heads back to hostile commanders. They glassed entire worlds from orbit. They beat these foes back to their homeworld, having ruthlessly dogged them to the edge of oblivion.

Eventually, there were no new bodies to crumple. Eventually, there was no fresh blood to spill. Eventually, all that was left of this enemy that had scourged this corner of the galaxy for 75 years was a whimpering, bloodied remnant of their hierarchy, and a dwindling few thousand left to their populace.

Their god-king laid beaten and bloody upon the crumbled remains of his golden throne. He asks to but a girl, no more than 14, that approaches him, sadistically grinning in the dim light of the royal chamber.

“Why? Why have you come here? Is your bloodlust not sated!? We conceded five of your cycles ago! We know what you are capable of! We fear you! Why?! Why do you still come?!”

The girl stops, close enough to smell the copper tang of the alien’s blood on its breath.

“Sic semper tyrannis,” she blurted out, in a dead tongue that the alien did not understand. She drew the knife in her belt and beheaded him, his gurgling screams resounding through the chamber.

She left through the front doors of the palace, the bronze sunset glinted off the golden palace buttresses and arches. She still clutched the god-king’s dripping head by his antennae, her purple-stained hand white-knuckled in victorious fury. A small congregation of aliens bowed and knelt before them, raising claws and feelers in terrified begs and prayers. She tossed the head down the steps, and watched it bump and roll the length down, halting with a wet thump at the base.

And as the congregation shuddered and yelped, completely catatonic at the realization that their god-king is dead, they turned their gaze to the humans, boarding their dropship, ascending into the clouds. They never returned.

Humanity drew back its severely-pruned numbers. They retreated to Earth, to serve a self-imposed penance. The remaining allied aliens, now repopulating their numbers, were gifted the colonies that humanity had once taken. They wondered why humanity was retreating to Earth.

Shexan, a member of the founding race of the Galactic Union, confronted his human friend, Jonathan, though keeping a healthy distance after what he had witnessed.

“Why do your people leave, Smith-Jonathan? You have won, why do your people not rule?” it inquired.

“We did not want to win. Because we knew what we needed to do to win. And we did not want to return to that.”

“To what, Smith-Jonathan?”

“To what we learned not to be.”

“Jonathan?”

“The lessons of the past will be repeated until they are learned.”

Jonathan turned from his new friend, tears streaming down his ragged face, as he departed into the darkness of the transport, its heavy bulkhead doors clunking shut behind him. The transport lifted into the stars. In all the years since that Shexan lived on TRAPPIST-1-b, he did not see a single human return.

The Sol system was, at the behest of humanity itself, marked as an uninhabitable system, and was restricted from entry. And, so has it remained, since.

Submitted by: @bartwelchii

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #submission

688 notes · View notes

dune-thedewcollectors · 4 years

Text

Ornithopter Down: A tribute tale so short.

Artwork: Simon Frost

Even the prison Hell of Salusa Secundus prepared me little for Arrakis - the spice planet. If there were Gods here, they have long since left. Only mortals and their machinations remain. The masters, House Harkonnen and the Fremen not as liberated as their name suggests assume the roles of old since time began. And oblivious to all - the worm, always the worm.

The ornithopter thop thops in crow-like flight seaming the supposed Harkonnen sky. So predatory as it patrols Arrakeen airspace. The ornithopter a craft with multi-purpose - light armour, gun mounted, troop carrier and drop bomb capability, the mainstay of the air fleet, spearhead of the young Baron's occupational and commercial intent. Harkonnen Public Force more a euphemism for mass murderers than its corporate sounding title suggests. The HPF are no Sardaukar, nor Fedaykin. Scum! Them both, neither the rabble spawn of Zensunni wanderers or the Baron’s buffoons are fit to lick the excrement off the boots of the lowliest Sardaukar trooper. Still the Baron is always in need of men not shy of a little knifework, either for show or bounty. For fifty standard years house Harkonnen continues to suck the marrow out of the planet and its indigenous. Of course propaganda promotes otherwise. The Baron's silver tongue and public relation corps is second to none and as any Fremen under duress and the whip will testify, "that he has brought such prosperity and peace for the Fremen - the likes that God has never seen." In truth, the spice, Arrakis its unique source, is currently worth 620,000 Solari per decagram in the Imperial market. Which makes the Baron's fief , "so preposterously profitable like no other holding in the known universe," so he gloats, often, to envious ears in the Imperial court.

And as if offplanet, like leaves in the wind - we soar. Our 'thopter crows for murder, one eye in the sky the other trained below. The pilot is efficient enough and despite my instincts: I Iike this asset. Iaken Nefud - nefarious no doubt, yet steady in crisis. Slight and, still, menace in his stature with the appropriate scars shining on his pock marked demeanor. There are many of the Public Force with murky past and the most dubious of countenance that rally towards profit and violence, but I am above that, I am Sardaukar - of the blood of the orient soldiers slaves of old, same lineage of ancient assasins no less. I am Sardaukar - in league with my Emperor, in servitude to House Corrino. And to this, or their end - I prevail.

The air like my chest feels tight, as if pressed between the Heavens and Hades. The desert chokes the airspace around if not reverse. The sand covets all; basins, sinks, grabens, and dust chasms too. The terrain features in open bleds and ergs swirled in the currents and torrents of the finest grains of silky suffocating death. And what rock formations there are lay submerged, mostly, while its desperate peaks protrude the surface. Such vastness its wide emptiness deceitful and as crushing as any claustrophobic condition. A navigational nightmare where one dare not miscalculate. Storms either sand and magnetic or both, can ill afford mistakes. Where is a Mentat when you need one? The desert ever constant, continue to plots against us, still. A landscape in dual allegiance to its desertfolk. Contrary to intelligence reports, Arrakeen airspace is no haven from Fremen insurgents. These natives a little more than just restless. Their ordinance: assorted small arms, rocket propelled grenades, surface to air missiles and stolen long range lasguns, always gun ready and cleared to engage. The confirmed kills of Harkonnen personnel whether by hostile or friendly fire are never accurately recorded if at all or the files forever in bureaucratic limbo. What insurgency?

Ornithopter down! Beyond the shield wall the call no pilot and crew wants to make or answer in bandit country. An ongoing joke and what they call a secret war on this ulcer of a planet that they make play of that playwright's words, "we few, we unlucky few,” the unofficial motto of the Public Force. I tire of their folly I say a plague on them both. I know my duty but I question the nature of the assignment I’ve been given. An exfiltration op in the middle of a holy war we’re at the wrong end of. I’ve seen the stats, and there’s no truth in them. The so call ragtag remnants of jihadists are the true masters outside the city limits. And they want us to retrieve one of their holy women? On the say so of some courtier ponce wanting his Bene Gesserit wife back who ran away to Arrakis decades before. There’s more than mischief here when the sisterhood are involved. Damned order of witches stirring up the natives with legends of the old Orient and its mysticisms. Fremen fanatics their numbers vast. More than the Baron will admit. I’ve seen with my own eyes the horrors of their resolve and their cause. A begrudging reminder of my own. But my God is stronger than yours. I am faithful, righteous and trained. And she, Sister Ramallo, is with us and with the co-ordinates she’s secreted, from under your very noses we shall steal her away from you, from this damned desert, from this Godforsaken planet and return her to paradise, praise Hallah!

Plans aren’t going as planned. Projectiles scar the sky looking to prey upon our bird in flight. Damn the Fremen! And that witch too. She promised us safe passage and proof of life. The invisible insurgents their work is done. The rockets locked on and propelling towards us, bent on benediction. Nefud as equal to the threat as any avoiding death becoming us all. He banks and performs an Immelman turn and the rockets explode far enough to survive but close enough to cause splash damage, thank the prophet for counter measures. “Looks like its a one way trip for this bird - sir,” chirps Nefud.

It could be worse, I know. Yet Nefud skillfully maneuvers and grounds the aircraft on the luminous landing zone marked out by a baradye pistol. Seems the witch keeps pace with the storm assuming the handiwork hers, as looming dust clouds and lightning sweeps over the the basin of Tuono, I exit with haste and disorientated, Nefud even more so - and shivering like an addict needing his vice. We're greeted by the squinting sunflare and the whipping wail of shifting sand. And then a disarming whisper deep within my subconscious suspends me still, motionless against my will, Nefud and I swap startled glances, he hears it too - a slow deliberate and suggestive murmur yet echoing as if repeating over and over, "guard yourself for truth, Out Freyn," in perfect Galach, accented in the way only highborn or courtesans speak. A lone Jubba cloaked figure appears in desert fashion prepared for violence while we remain prone, conscious - yet slumbered in our stupor.

"Ramallo! release me," I spat, " and come with us we are under orders of the Emperor." She cuts a fine figure in the sand, svelte not pretty but handsome still for a woman mid-aged living on this desolate rock far from the preen and pamper of better days. The return of muscle and bone comes slow as we slither down to ground. We've seen something not many live to tell. The voice, the cloaked fist of the Bene Gessirit. The sisterhood's ability to manipulate muscle and mind literally bending an enemy to their will. She is close enough. Instinct, perhaps, self preservation bids me hold, not so Nefud his sense tells him otherwise and lunges for her foot and coils round her heel. Almost instantly she slips, side-steps and side kicks towards her assailant’s temple side. Over in a blur no blood drawn only shock. As adept in close quarter as she was with voice, I awe in wonder. She's close enough now as I stand, hands raised upon my head contemplating the shigawire sewn within my scalp. I see her eyes blue but not as blue within blue as if born to their ways. There's more to the color of them eyes that disturbs. She has no intention of leaving with us that's plain to see. Even more obvious - she is lost to us, lost to them, but lost to herself most of all. In just a few moments I've assessed we can not retrieve what's unhinged, bordering the path to insanity, and for whatever reasons before during and after this incident, which is sure to be brushed under the royal carpet, she is tainted Fremen thus compromised. Not a further word is exchanged between us. As if all is understood, she retreats and I gather my asset.

" You managed to apply the tracer?" I query the stirring Nefud, "aye sir," Iaken stirred but not shaken. I secrete the transmitter from my bodice and attach the hairline shigawire as antennae. I call in our support hovering high but nearby. And quickly reference the co-ordinates of the landing zone.

We should have stunners for this kind of deal. Or initiated the Holtzman effect! The point is moot. What should of been a simple pick up and retrieve has turned into a fire mission now as protocol demands. The stench of spice reeks from my fellow Sardaukar soldiers in Guild garb as we board their 'thopter and ascend rapidly from the LZ. I remove my Public Force livery and slip into my Corrino jumpsuit with the embroidered on Ensign epaulettes. "Welcome aboard Aramsham," salutes my handler, the Captain. I nod, return the salute and hand him the tracer receiver. We have been trying to locate the secret sietch - Tabr with no success. Thanks to a cuckold and his witch we have an opportunity to firebomb the hidden cave of warrens to blazes. The blip remains stationary on the screen has been the last ten. We hover above in our Ornithopter looking down. The bomb bay doors open wide. I look across to Nefud, "look sir, wormsign!"

#FanFiction #Dune #Sardaukar

0 notes