#And it speaks to his utter incompetence that he didn't even know enough about the issue he was referencing to explain it clearly

[ffcrazy15]

On the one hand I was relieved to learn about how absolutely awfully Trump tanked that debate. Get dunked on, you fucking racist asshole. Spreading lies about Haitian immigrants like that, how dare you. And "concepts of a plan"? Seriously? The incompetence is staggering.

On the other hand... Ms. Harris ma'am your running mate literally did sign legislation last year repealing the laws protecting infants born alive after an abortion attempt in Minnesota. Now medical professionals are only required to provide comfort, not try to save the kid's life.

So like... they're not actively executing the babies, but it is legal to leave them to die in Minnesota. Like that is actually a thing.

[technodromes]

[ ♗ ] Rick successfully earned himself displeased glares from the present Utroms. Not that he's wrong, but he managed to offend, or at the least irritate, the dwellers from Dimension X as much as he was at that point. But before Subprime gets to say anything in return about the insults thrown his way, it is Bishop who speaks up. Surprisingly, he still defends Rick. Well, as much as it is necessary to have a conversation going, anyway. And not like the latter would understand much of what Bishop has to say, anyway. The tiny alien utters a barrage of croaks and soft growls while gesticulating with his front tentacles while the other listens to it quietly until the end.

"I suppose that explains a thing or two. I know I checked the destroyed base thoroughly when I returned. That means I have to help you two incompetent half-wits back to your own dimension then." Even though he said 'you two', the insult is actually mostly directed at Rick as he eyes him dismissively. And he's not entirely done yet. "I really don't understand why you put up with this wreck. Either way, we have to get your Norman back. Or a flyer, at least. Because I'm definitely not going to be that Bulldog's google translator here just because you still can't be assed to learn English. At least you understand it."

Bishop on the other hand is definitely surprised that this 'Subprime' is offering to help them. So far, he didn't really assume that any other version of his brother could be different after willingly joining the Kraang. He gets increasingly curious as to what exactly happened here and why this version doesn't seem so hostile. The noises he elicits in return make him sound a little sulky though. The tentacles that are crossed in front of him afterward further confirm that impression. It's enough to show the faint hint of a grin on the one-eyed Utrom's face.

"Yeah right, here come the weird-ass excuses. Now listen, I'll take your human companion to the lab for further 'testing'. That's where all your stuff is, too. As you are right now, you're useless. I mean, you're pretty much both useless, but I take a drooling monkey over a squawking sponge." He glances at Rick now. "And my name is Knight, 'asshole'."

Of course, Bishop's angry threat falls to deaf ears. Not only Rick doesn't react to the words, but despite his last statement, he seems unconcerned with the obvious dire situations he has landed them in. As the Kraang flock out of the portals, all he does is clumsily getting his flask out and taking a swing from it. ...Or at least, he tries to, but between his current state and his position half of the liquor ends up in his face.

"G-Geez, who the fuck taught you to talk? T-The shittiest AI ever built can make better sentences," he snorts in mocking amusement. Damn, this is too hilarious. "R-Rick commands you to do the act, w-which is called admit tha-that you're dumb pink bubblegums."

And here comes another fit of intoxicated laughter, which continues even when he's grabbed together with his unlucky companion and lasts for a good part of the trip to the prison.

The details of said journey are incredibly fuzzy in Rick's memory. For all he knows, he might have passed out at some point, since reality starts to come back into focus only once he finds himself seated in their assigned cell. He is leaning against the wall to keep himself up and spitting out insults at the Kraang who are busy poking at his things. He has never liked it when others touch his shit without his permission and the bastards have even taken away his flask.

That last fact is what is bothering him the most in the entire situation. He isn't worried about the aliens figuring out how to use his portal gun. He has made sure that only he and a few selective individual can use it, so there's no way it can be activated unless they reproduce one of their quantum signatures. And good luck guessing that this is what they need to do in the first place.

As for the other devices he is carrying, it's nothing he can't rebuild. Worst case scenario, the Kraang will end up blowing themselves up because they pressed the wrong button.

The scientist is almost about to zone out once again when a very familiar voice cuts through their captors' incomprehensible muttering, causing him to crack an eye open. Damn, when he has even closed them?

Well, look at who's here. Bitchy Bubblegum. Or well, that universe version of him.

"H-Hey, he didn't bring me here. I-I brought us here. G-Get your cerebral cortex out of your cerebellomedullary cistern," in truth, these last two words come out as garbled sounds, "y-you self-centred asshole. Y-You and your pals aren't the only dimension travelling gang around."

He sounds openly offended at Subprime's words, but he also seems to forget it just as quickly as he notices Bishop staring at him.

"T-The fuck are you looking at me like that? D-Didn't you hear me when I said tha-that this is not your Dimension X? G-Geez, keep up."

{ @technodromes }

[prideofcelestia]

❝when you turn into a rat and the only way to turn you back is a kiss from your true love — barbatos❞

« characters - barbatos »

« gender neutral reader »

« pairing - romantic »

« based on a discussion with @obeythedemons »

i. maybe don't touch what isn't yours

The package was meant for Barbatos so maybe you should not have touched it. But then, it would have been him who had turned into a rat — the fate that had currently befallen you.

You tried to speak but only timid squeaks came out — no doubt as a reflection of your panic. The sounds, however, had a very different effect on your boyfriend who usually could not get enough of your voice.

Clutching the wall nearby, Barbatos closed his eyes with a painful expression before proving his efficiency. It was no time to be planning the extermination of pests! It was you, not a… not a you-know-what!

Barbatos, deep breaths. Barbatos, tap the rational part of your brain. The Young Master would be very disappointed if the human exchange student vanished from the face of the world. Heck, his heart would shatter and he would be a shell of a demon if he were to be separated from you... er in any form other than that. And all of it was because of his carelessness, no less. His love clashed with his fear and the result was him understanding that the situation was beyond his ability to handle alone.

Opening a portal that led to the R.A.D Council Room, he made sure you entered it before passing through it himself after a considerable lapse of time. He didn't dare to move at the same time as you in your new form.

After shakily explaining the situation to Diavolo and glancing at you with a shudder, Barbatos took his leave to lie down because of the shock. But not before profuse apologies of his incompetence and his intentions of submitting his resignation as the royal butler and breaking up with you had been made.

Diavolo looked distressed and your squeaking in protest only made your boyfriend look more resolute and a little unnerved. Not only did you lose your human form and ability to speak but now you were also about to lose the love of your life. Could rats die of a broken heart?! You were about to find out!

Diavolo glanced at the package that was the source of the mayhem. His golden eyes widened when he saw the card that came with it.

"Turn into your lover's worst nightmare. Only true love's kiss can break the curse!"

ii. the kiss of death

Deadly silence filled the room as every pair of eyes focused on you, who was seated on the table like a garnished plate of delicious food. Beel could hardly control himself anytime his eyes fell on you. Your coat stood up straight and a sense of dread filled you.

At that precise moment, Barbatos entered — looking as haggard as you had last seen him — but averted his eyes the moment he glanced at you.

"Di-Did you find a solution to the predicament, Young Master?"

Diavolo's usual mirth had left him while his mind raced to think of a solution. Quickly. Since ideas were not forthcoming, he looked crestfallen as he told Barbatos the truth.

Biting the insides of his cheeks, Barbatos grimaced as he tried not to puke. Bile rose to his throat and burned his mouth. In all his existence, he had never once wished to be blasted into smithereens until then.

He also realised that if given a chance to think, he would only be inclined to refuse kissing a… a you-know-what. Even if it was technically you in disguise.

So, taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with Beelzebub and Lucifer.

"Do what you shall — tie me, use a spell, restraint me, knock me out — but make sure I kiss [Name]. Do it right now before I change my mind. I'll owe Lucifer one and for Beelzebub, I'll cook you something to show my gratitude."

Beelzebub moved behind Barbatos at once with a happy grin and wrapped his arms around him tightly to hold him in place. Lucifer, meanwhile, chanted a spell that prevented Barbatos from moving his body at will before putting a blindfold on his eyes. Losing no time, Asmo grabbed you and ran towards Barbatos.

Nobody uttered a single word — especially you since if Barbatos heard you, chances were that he'd start wriggling like a dying fish and refuse the kiss.

The short peck made Barbatos' entire being shake and he saw sights that he believed to be his life. Possibly, that's what most people see before death devours them and now, it seemed to be his turn.

The silver lining in the dark times was your face — the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I didn't think there were other Septimus Heap fans out there so anyway thanks

Y’all, I have ZERO CHILL about the Septimus Heap series.

∙ I’m a sucker for found family, of course, and I don’t know that any other series has done it to quite the bonkers degree that Septimus Heap has. 

Sometimes family is your long-lost biological relations.  And sometimes family is two parents and seven siblings and a Young Army brat they accidentally kidnapped and their batty aunt and their batty aunt’s duck who was a cat and their mom’s other duck who was never a cat and an in-law with too many ribbons and their Young Army brat’s BFF and a smelly dragon and the smelly dragon’s boat-mom and the youngest sibling’s biological dad and the youngest sibling’s biological dad’s wife (who is also the Young Army brat’s second mom) and at least 1.5 trees.  And that’s before we get into the extended Heap family and start counting wolverines and witches and apprentices and Gringes and alchemists and Message Rats and scribes.

Like, somehow having a protagonist who (by default) has six older brothers and six uncles wasn’t enough family for Angie Sage, and she had to go and add a shitton more.  Which is amazing, because there are approximately twelve million characters in that series (six million of whom are Heaps) and I love every single one of them.

∙ If you don’t ship 821, you’re reading a different series from me.

821 (409 + 412) is my first OTP and I’ll ship it till I die. It shows the best side of both boys when they’re at their worst.  I love all the details that gradually emerge through the series about Boy 412 being the single most incompetent Young Army cadet in the history of the army (because of course Sep’s a mega-nerd who hates the outdoors) and Boy 409 basically carrying him through the do-or-die exercises to overcompensate for the dumbassery of his best friend (because of course Marwick is a softie at heart and no one else will talk with him about spaceships).  I’m just sayin, it’s a near-miracle that 412 made it six whole months without 409 before mostly-dying in a snowbank.

Plus, I love their weird messy dynamic as they become young adults together.  Syren especially hinges on how they effortlessly get each other, even when one or the other is behaving irrationally.  There’s such great contrast in their utter confidence in each other’s love, in contrast to neither one knowing quite what to do with his biological family.

∙ There is a trick to having screwball comedy and genuine, respectful, wrenching tragedy in the same work.  Angie Sage has it, K.A. Applegate has it, Louis Sachar has it, and few other authors do.

∙ Marcia.  Fucking.  Overstrand.

I cannot ever, ever get enough of the mentee-mentorship between Marcia and Sep.  I love how they’re both typically bad at getting along with other people — Marcia’s aloof and snobby, Sep’s awkward and off-putting — but then they meet each other and instantaneously start getting along because they’re the only two people in the universe who care as much as they do about magic.  And so they’re best friends in a matter of days, lifelong platonic soulmates in a matter of months.  To the point where they tend to forget to sleep because they want to do more magic.  To the point where it’s more than a little awkward how much closer Sep is with his magic-mom than his actual parents.  And we get why they like each other so much, because the books do an amazing job of showing that.

Also, can we talk about how fucking good Marcia is at navigating around Sep’s Odd Trauma Legacy Habits?  It’s her being quietly appalled but also willing to enable his insistence on wearing one specific brand of military boots.  It’s her refusal to accept “I’m scared” as an excuse but also making sure he knows how to feel safe while flying or using Darke.  It’s elaborate rituals around removing the bugs from the library instead of killing them.  It’s making sure the kid who hoards cabbage sandwiches can have an infinite supply of non-perishable food.  It’s supporting all the ways that he’s weirdly nostalgic for his godawful childhood, with the Young Army stew supplies and firestarter kits.  It’s her dealing with Sep’s “when in doubt, refuse to speak for months on end” default strategy through note-writing and journal-keeping.

∙ God DAMN do I love that Jenna’s journey as a character is all about her learning that the “don’t treat me like a princess... unless I happen to need something from someone” strategy is about her comfort, and that she can’t keep doing that if she ever wants to be a halfway responsible queen.  Way too often, stories imply that ““don’t call me ‘your highness’” is unironically a Good Thing in all situations at all times.

Anyway, I’ll stop screaming in joy now, because this is an Animorphs blog.

[the-nerdy-goddess]

Innocence

A little Loki blurb I did because I needed a little break from my FATWS book which is already halfway done!

Warnings: mentions of torture but nothing too bad

Marvel Masterlist l Main Masterlist l Requests

I did my best to stay still in the shattered marble as my magic started to wind it's way through my body. Now that the Other's mind control was gone, my magic was unleashed, although I feared what might happen if I used it for anything other than healing.

Thanos would know of my failure and would eventually come for me. I'd sabotaged his plans, giving way to the Avengers to rise and take control.

Had the mad titan sent someone other than his puppet, Earth might be subjugated at the moment.

I managed to open my eyes, blinking hard as the sun filtered in through the broken windows. In front of me stood the mighty Avengers team.

"You've lost Loki" said the man suited in metal armor. Tony Stark, I believe. He was rather smug as the rest of his fellow comrades held some sort of weapon toward me, all except Thor who was looking at me with a level of disappointment.

"Silly mortals" I closed my eyes in relief. They weren't as incompetent as I originally thought. "You think I've lost, when I won"

"Why do you speak in riddles brother!" Thor demanded. I looked to him now, a laugh bubbling in my chest, although it hurt to let loose.

"Don't you think if I was really trying to win, I would have?" I struggled to push myself into a seated position, my own body protesting the movement. The Avengers looked at me with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "I lost on purpose! Had I failed, this world would have wished something as sweet as death."

"And you suddenly care so much about earth?" Bruce Banner raised a skeptical brow. "Aren't you supposed to be the god of lies?"

Rolling my eyes, I sunk back carefully into the crater. "I care not for earth but for Asgard, had Midgard fallen, then the nine realms would have followed soon after. Stopping the attack here, remedied the situation"

"Who threatens the nine realms brother" Thor knelt down next to me, silently pleading with me to expose the truth.

"It's much more delicate than simply saying the name Thor" I took a deep breath. "When I fell, I was found by the chitari."

Thor paled at the implications. "No, brother, he is dead"

"Not as dead as we all believed" I supplied.

"Can someone fill us in on who this 'He' is and why he's so bad." Tony asked impatiently.

Thor turned toward his team, his face ashen. "My brother was under the control of someone we thought to be a legend. One told to children to make them behave. He speaks of Thanos"

I flinched at the name, wanting to get away from Thor for even saying it, as if he would suddenly know where I was simply by uttering his name.

"And why is Thanos so bad?" Romanoff quirked a brow in suspicion.

I ignored the redhead, trying to get my oaf of a brother to understand the gravity of the situation. "He probably knows what I've done and is coming for me"

Barton narrowed his eyes. "What is it exactly that you did?"

Feeling some strength fill my muscles, I slowly stood, despite the Avengers raising their weapons in defense. I moved toward the island and leaned against it. "I manipulated everything, including taking control of Agent Barton's mind. Once I heard your director fury refer to him as the best agent, I knew I needed you, although it really was just luck that you happened to be so close to a member of the team"

"You killed Coulson" Stark crossed his arms.

I looked to him, confused. "The agent that was in the room where the hulks cage was, is that correct?" At the nod I continued. "He should be alive. I merely wounded him, although midgardian anatomy might be different than I thought. I stabbed him in the shoulder"

"Why should we believe you?" Steve Rogers, who had up until now been quiet.

"My wounds go far beyond this battle" I began, unhooking the chest plate to my armor with one hand, pulling it away slightly to show the damage done by the Chitari. "They tortured me until I was broken enough for the Other to reach into my mind. Then they gave me the scepter to strengthen their control"

"And then the hulk hit your head hard enough to shatter the control" Romanoff nodded to herself, gesturing toward the crater in the center of the room, Barton rubbed his forehead while the other Avengers looked to her confused. "I had to give Barton a concussion to snap his mind control"

So it's not as fool proof as the Other claimed it to be. I inwardly smirked in victory. "After I was captured, I realized that if I could band the six of you together, you might be able to stop the invasion."

"So you manipulated everything from the moment you got here" Bruce Banner summed. I nodded, pulling my chest plate back into place. My magic was slowly mending the torn flesh and it needed some sort of protection.

"If this Thanos person is so powerful, why didn't he come here himself?" Stark questioned.

Swallowing, I forced the images of the mad titan out of my memory. "I was a pawn in a much larger scheme. He intended to see Earth’s defenses, you all have proven to be formidable foes.”

Over the next several hours, I strategized with the defenders of Midgard, gaining their weary trust when they realized I was nothing more than a victim manipulated by a power hungry tyrant.

Marvel Masterlist l Main Masterlist l Requests

[whimsyswastry]

Chapter 3: Crazytown || 2,334 Words

(Hey, look! It's Reyes!)

Read on AO3 or Under the Cut

A/N: This is the last update I'll have for a couple days. Ryder and Reyes aren't behaving. I need to do some discovery writing to figure out why. 💛 Thanks for reading!

"Oh, good. I have been waiting for you," Tann chided even though ten minutes hadn't passed since he'd called Scott. Tann's arms folded over his chest in a way that strongly reminded Scott of his mother.

"Came as quick," he inhaled slowly to hide a burp, "as I could."

Tann's large black eyes stared at him unblinkingly, assessing him. When Scott didn't move or speak, he decided to push forward. "We have a problem. A big problem."

Scott muttered under his breath. Every problem that crossed Tann's desk signaled the end of the world for the salarian. In fact, he'd once contacted Scott while he was at a peace summit on Aya because Addison had locked him out of the Colonial Affairs directory on the Nexus’ computer network. Ever since then, Scott had taken Tann's emergencies with a grain of salt.

Tann ringed his hands and paced back and forth behind his desk. "We launched a few probes across Aya…"

Scott's stomach dropped and all the alcohol he'd ingested over the last ninety minutes threatened to come back up. "…Why?"

"They are new allies. How else could we be certain that they are on our side?"

Scott dragged his hands down his face. "Gee, I don't know, Tann,” he threw an arm to his side, frustration rolling off him in waves. “Maybe take them at their word? It's not like I haven't spent the last six months with them, helping them, learning from them!"

Tann stopped mid-step and turned to look squarely at Scott. It was difficult to tell, but Scott was fairly certain the director's pupils narrowed to slits within the big black orbs. "Six months is not a long enough partnership to stake the reputation of the Initiative, not to mention the one hundred thousand lives we are responsible for."

Scott bit back his argument knowing that Tann was at least partially right. As much as he loathed to admit it, they didn't know that much about the Angara as a people. Sure, he knew and trusted a few of the leaders, but what lurked beneath the surface? Did they have their own exiles? Andromeda's version of Cerberus? How certain could he truly be that they were in the fight against the Kett together? Would they sell out the Initiative if it meant the Kett would leave them be? The implications gave him a headache. Or maybe it was the krogan liquor.

"So what did you find?" Scott rubbed at his temples.

"There is a construct, a large network of buildings in the middle of nowhere. The energy signature being emitted matches those of the Kett facilities we found previously.”

"Okay, so we send in APEX and clear out some Kett. No biggie." Scott started toward the door.

"Pathfinder!"

Tann's panicked tone stopped him in his tracks.

"Pathfinder, this is not just a normal Kett facility. There have been strange spikes in energy, power-usage off the charts, but ever since we discovered the facility, there have been no life signs."

The alcohol had made Scott a little sluggish and he was slow to understand what that meant. Tann scoffed at his apparent inability to connect the dots and continued.

"It means there is something new there. Some new form of life that is giving off energy without any heat whatsoever.”

Scott was never big into biology, but even he knew that wasn't possible. When a living organism makes energy, heat is released. A plus B equals C. "How…?"

"That is what you're going to figure out!" Tann interrupted, losing his patience for the tipsy Pathfinder.

"Right, right," Scott nodded and made his way toward the door for a second time when he heard Tann call after him.

"And Pathfinder, I expect you to be sober next time you report in."

Scott waved him off without turning around.

//

He drifted around the Nexus aimlessly, Tann’s utter incompetence weighing heavily on him. After a while, he stumbled out of a tramcar, unseeing and on autopilot. The docks. So many people bustled around, so many voices mingled with his racing thoughts, that he missed the first few times Cora tried to get his attention.

"Earth to Scott!" Cora said and waved her hand a few inches in front of his face. She laughed at his startled look, then returned to her usual seriousness as though nothing had happened. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Probably."

"Sit down, Scott." It wasn't much of an invitation. She grabbed his upper arm and pulled him to a nearby bench that overlooked the busiest section of the dock. "What's up?"

Scott was thankful that she gave him a few minutes to collect his thoughts. Her unmoving hand still touching his shoulder grounded him. When he finally realized what was bothering him his thoughts spilled out of him like the time the NOMAD's powercell sprung a leak, a dribble at first and then a torrent.

"Tann has been illegally spying on Aya for the last several months, basically since our alliance began. If Paaran Shie, or God forbid, Efvra finds out about it, we can certainly kiss our partnership goodbye. He says it's for the protection of the Initiative, but long term, his spying could have much further reaching repercussions than if we were to take the Angara at their word. They are a very open people, a very emotional people. They're free with their forgiveness among themselves, but after the Kett, I wouldn't be surprised if they considered us an enemy power." He took a deep breath and continued. "But, believe it or not, Tann's personal crusade to alienate the Angara isn't the worst part."

Cora cocked her head and squeezed his arm then pulled away, her hands in her lap as she considered what could be worse than jeopardizing the Angaran Accords.

"Tann's probes found evidence of a compound located in one of the valleys of the thalldaar. Tann seems certain it belongs to the Kett. I thought so at first, but now, I'm leaning more toward an Angaran structure. Maybe one for worship? Or research? It doesn't matter who it belongs to though because either way, we'll have to come clean to the Angara about our probes. Either it's Kett and they want to know how we knew about them or it's Angaran and we end up interrupting some sacred ritual."

"Scott, maybe—"

"And Tann wants us to leave right away. But—oh, God!—We have no pilot! If it is the Kett and we have to wait for Kallo to come back and something bad happens to Aya—"

"Scott!" Cora's sharp tone cut through his panic. He gaped at her as she continued, "It does no good to speculate. What's done is done. The only thing we can do now is try not to make it worse. And that means not waiting until we can reach Kallo."

"You're right. It's the perfect time to try out the wings I just grew!"

Cora glared at him, but pressed on. "Kallo isn't the only pilot…"

The way she left her sentence hanging like she was reluctant to outright say what she was implying irked Scott. "Yes?" He wanted her to say it.

"When we first docked, I saw Reyes loading supplies into a shuttle."

The second Reyes' name was out of Cora's mouth, Scott leaped to his feet. "Oh no! Hell no! I'm not having him set foot on the Tempest. God only knows how much of our tech will suddenly go missing! He's a snake, Cora. He isn't worth the time of—"

"Goddess, are we talking about Reyes again?" PeeBee appeared beside him suddenly, she slung one arm over Scott's shoulder and he scowled. "I love a good roast, which arguments has he brought up so far? Run of the mill lying? Murdering Zia? Which stop is this on the way to Crazytown?”

Scott's scowl deepened and he didn't answer unless you count a colorful bit of language muttered under his breath.

Cora caught PeeBee up to speed, casting cursory glances at Scott as he continued to sulk. When she reached the part about Reyes filling in for Kallo, Scott had more arguments prepared.

"No! They can send another Pathfinder. Why do they always send me anyway? Maybe I have something important to do. I mean, haven't they ever heard of grief-leave? Or…or…family sick leave? It's ridiculous to expect one person to do this much!"

"Aww, Scotty," PeeBee scrambled closer to him, fighting to reach him despite him pushing at her, and kissed his cheek. "You're only pissy because you saw Reyes talking to that hot dockworker earlier, aren't you?"

Scott looked affronted. "How did you—You weren't even there!"

"Because anyone who's even the slightest bit single talks to Deidre when they visit the Nexus."

"Being single isn't something that happens on a sliding-scale, PeeBee,” Cora chided and then turned to Scott. "Besides, it's only you and Vedaria and we both know she's a little green. Even if she wasn't, it'd still put your odds at fifty percent."

Scott turned his back on his shipmates. "SAM?"

"I'm here, Pathfinder."

"Are there any other options? Can you fly the Tempest?"

"I am sorry, Pathfinder. I can augment a pilot's ability to fly the Tempest, but it is inadvisable to fly the Tempest while unmanned. Mr. Vidal is still on the station, but it appears as though his ship is preparing for departure. I suggest contacting him quickly."

He turned back around to find Cora and PeeBee still arguing about how many different types of single one could be. His paled face quickly got their attention.

"You sure you can play nice? No more trips to Crazytown while Reyes is around?" PeeBee poked at his stomach and then pushed her shoulder into his.

"What am I around for?" A silky voice asked from behind them.

Scott spun around and sent PeeBee who was still leaning against him tumbling to the ground. She was muttering something, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man standing before him. His breath hitched when Reyes smiled. He couldn't remember the last time they were close enough to touch. That warm smile turned his insides to goo which started to boil as soon as his thought processes kicked back in.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked, surprised that he was able to keep his voice steady. He crossed his arms and took a step backward.

"I had some business to take care of," Reyes answered easily and nodded his hello to the girls.

Cora took advantage of the small gesture and talked over Scott's reply, pushing her way between the two men. "That's lucky for us. We could really use your help."

Scott threw his hands up and stalked away, but knew that with everything riding on their swift intervention, he couldn't turn down Reyes' help. He stomped far away to make his point, but stayed within earshot.

"How may I be of service?"

Scott couldn't help but picture the open-armed gesture and lopsided quirk of Reyes' mouth that matched those words. He kept his back to everyone while Cora explained their predicament.

"Is this true, Scott?"

Addressed directly, Scott's mind went blank. All he could think, all he could feel was the slow creep of anxiety making its way up his spine like a glowworm wriggling it’s way across the damp earth of Havarl. He couldn't say no, he knew that. But he couldn't let Reyes think he was off the hook. He turned, his arms still crossed stiffly across his chest. "We need a pilot. Any pilot would do." He stared at the pristine floor of the Nexus docks.

Reyes sighed. "Good luck to you then," he said and turned on his heel, slowly retreating to his docking bay.

Cora glared at Scott and PeeBee wasn’t gentle when she shoved him toward Reyes'. He couldn't make his feet work until SAM interrupted their private channel. "I have been unable to locate any Nexus pilot available to assist with your mission, Pathfinder."

"Fuck." Scott threw his head back and stared at the simulated sky. His breath escaped him in a forceful sigh, acting as a propellant toward the retreating man. "Reyes, wait!"

Reyes stopped in his tracks but didn't turn around. Fuck, even now he was playing power games. Scott grumbled as he crossed the twenty feet between them; twenty feet that might as well have been the distance between him and the Milky Way. Cornered, Scott decided to stick to the facts. "Kallo, our pilot, is off station."

Reyes' turned his head slightly to acknowledge that he was listening, but kept his back to Scott. He didn't answer.

God dammit. "We can't wait for him to get back. This is important. It could very well start a war with the Angara."

Reyes finally turned to face him, but his expression was stony, emotionless. "And what does that have to do with me?"

He was gonna make him say it. Motherfucker. "We could—"

Reyes' eyebrows lifted.

Scott glared at the man. "Damn it, Reyes. I—I could really use your help. You may be a lying son of a bitch, but I need a pilot. And well, you're a damn good one." Scott sulked, his arms finding their way across his chest again.

"Okay, I'll help," Reyes responded airily. "But next time, leave my mother out of it."

It was a joke, but Scott couldn't help but think of it as a warning; a warning wrapped in a thin layer of humor. Would that be so unusual? Whenever Reyes spoke, most of his true meaning was wrapped in a layer or two of extra padding. Scott nodded, a general acknowledgement. This was going to be a fun ride. At least Reyes would be on the Bridge for the entirety of the trip and Scott could hide out with Gil or Liam in Cargo. "We hit atmo in twenty." Scott shoved past Reyes, who simply chuckled.

Scott is reluctant to ask for help, but when not asking could lead to war with the Angarans he finds himself face to face with Reyes for the first time since Sloane's murder.

"I need a pilot."