#I always like to do ads with the dash comm
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
fizzarollitm · 4 months ago
Text
" So Mammon handed me a card saying I had to advertise the breedability of the Robots but— "
Tumblr media
" I'm not. I'm not doing that. "
6 notes · View notes
tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year ago
Text
The Boss - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
This work, all of my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY TIMES PEOPLE HAVE TO SAY THIS SHIT
Warnings: Bodyguard AU; Power Imbalance; Seemingly One-Sided Attraction; Not Necessarily Healthy Dynamics; Power Struggle; Implied Age Gap (Still VERY MUCH Legal); References to Stabbing; References to Death Threats; Referenced Nudity/Showers; Light Angst; Longing; Reader is a Bit of a Brat; Bradley Suffers; Female Reader with No Name or Identifying Description, No Y/N
Summary: You and your bodyguard, Rooster, are at odds when he tries to keep you locked in the safe house.
Part 2
Master List
Tumblr media
It wasn’t like you asked to be the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world. Your father was known internationally and so was the rest of your family by extension. With all of the fame, money, and power, of course, came the added side effects. Like the threats against your life, since you were your father’s only child after all.
Enter Bradley. Or Rooster as you were supposed to call him whenever you communicated via comms or within earshot of anyone else.
After several threats against your life, your father hired Bradley as your personal bodyguard. He was a part of the revered Iron Daggers, an underground squad of the most elite fighters that the world didn’t know about. Not the general public anyways. 
The Iron Daggers had a reputation of pulling of the impossible. Of always protecting their targets and getting them out of whatever horrible situation in the end. And when your father contacted Maverick, the leader of the Iron Daggers, he sent Rooster.
The best of the best apparently.
And the best looking bodyguard you had or would ever have for the rest of your life.
Hell, you were only human. Rooster or Bradley, as you tended to call him when you were alone, which was often, was tall with a broad, muscled frame that you wouldn’t mind on top of you. His hair and eyes a light chestnut brown that just reeked of homey. And he was quite possibly the only man who you thought could pull off that mustache and somehow become more attractive as a result.
But there were rules. No fraternization or whatever. As if locking you up with just an absolute stud of a man was supposed to prevent you from falling for him.
Spoiler—it had the opposite effect.
But Bradley, ever the professional, never gave into any of your comments or you glances. The most he would do would be to smile sweetly at you and then go straight back to work. And fuck it was getting old. And embarrassing. But, of course, that didn’t stop your mind from wandering or your eyes.
Even on that night, when surrounded by the richest and most powerful people in the world who were all dressed to impress, you were staring at Bradley. He was never more than five steps from you and even if you didn’t have a staring problem, it would have been near impossible for you to be unable to find him.
Finding Bradley’s gaze deviating into the crowd, you couldn’t help but follow his gaze.
A man dressed in a suit that you knew was expensive, was clearly walking towards you through the crowd. You didn’t recognize the man, but you were sure that he knew who you were based on how he looked at you. Not stressed in the slightest, you turned to your right as you felt a gentle hand on the small of your back. In an instant, Bradley was right by your side, putting himself in between you and the approaching man.
"Can I buy you a drink?" Bradley asked, causing your smile to immediately brighten.
“Yes, you may,” you agreed, practically beaming up at Bradley. 
He looked absolutely dashing in his suit, which was pressed and tailored to fit him perfectly. He was here under the guise of being a wealthy businessman and he seemed to play the part perfectly. He offered you his hand, which you took gently, and the two of you headed over to the bar together. Bradley ordered a drink for you and a glass of water for himself before turning to you. He leaned forward, causing your breath to hitch as his lips and the edges of his mustache brushed against your ear.
"Did you recognize him?" Rooster asked, talking about the man who tried to approach you.
"No," you replied, your eyes fluttering closed as you brushed your cheek against his own. "I don't. But I'm not worried about him."
"I'll be the judge of that."
And in an instant, the warmth from Bradley was gone. He was back in his protective body guard mode and nothing that she could do or would do would be able to break that concentration.
The two of you grabbed your drinks from the bar, after quick tampering checks, walked over to one of the tables in the corner. Bradley sat down and angled himself so that he could see the party, but you were entirely focused on him. And hell, anyone who was staring at you could have seen that the only person you had on your mind was Bradley.
It was a poorly concealed crush that was quickly getting a bit out of hand. After all, Bradley was a handful of years older than you and there was no way that your relationship would survive in ‘the real world.’ Though, you didn't care about that. But you knew that Bradley would never break and cross that line. He’d been in this business since he was eighteen. He wouldn’t crack. 
So, you just kept tugging on the possibilities of a fabricated school girl crush to try and keep some kind of sanity in the mess you called your life. 
“Why are you so tense?” you whispered to Bradley, grabbing his hand. “There’s security everywhere. We’re fine.”
“There’s security, but they’re not watching you.”
Taking a sip of your drink, you glanced out at the crowd once again, particularly the dance floor. Feeling a bit emboldened, you hurried to sip down the rest of your drink before hopping up from your seat. 
“Come on. Let’s dance,” you stated, holding out your hand to Bradley. 
“What?”
“I want to dance. So, let’s dance,” you replied as if it was a normal request. 
“But,” Bradley started to protest. 
“Please,” you whispered, which instantly caused his resolve to buckle. 
“Okay, but I’m keeping an eye out.”
“I know. I’ll take it,” you responded, taking Bradley’s hand. 
Pulling him up, you led him out onto the dance floor. A slower and more elegant song was playing, so you rested a hand on Bradley’s shoulder and held his hand. Bradley placed a hand on your waist at a respectful height and swayed with you to the music, though his eyes were always looking out at the crowd. 
Sighing, you tried to get him to glance down at you for even a moment, but Bradley always took his job seriously and put it first. Really, you shouldn't complain since his attention was meant to protect you and make sure you woke up the next morning. But sometimes, you just wanted to forget all of that.
Resting your head against his chest, you closed your eyes and just swayed, trying to make the most of the moment. And unbeknownst to you, that subtle touch worked. 
Bradley, once he felt your head on his chest, broke his stare out at the room and turned to you. Your eyes were closed, so you didn’t notice his stare, but a few moments later, you felt his thumb rub circles in your hip. Smiling softly, you listened to Bradley’s heartbeat and enjoyed the moment. Just when Bradley started to rest his head on top of your own, a scream echoed through the room. 
In an instant, Bradley was on alert. Wrapping his arm protectively around your waist, he spun you away from the source of the scream. The both of you glanced quickly through the crowd to see what the commotion was about and gasped when you spotted a man with a knife sticking out of his chest. 
You didn’t even have time to scream yourself before Bradley pulled you out of the room. 
~~~~~
“That’s it. No more of those stupid parties,” Bradley stated as the two of you returned to the safe house. 
You got away cleanly and the security checks were complete. You were safe. Bradley did his job and got you out of there in one piece. But Bradley was kicking himself the whole way back to the safe house. He should have gotten you out of the room faster. What if you were the intended target? Hell, he shouldn’t have let you out in the first place. 
You were silent the whole drive home and Bradley had wrapped his jacket around your shoulders when you couldn’t help but shiver. The image of the stabbed man was still fresh in your mind and you were still in a bit of shock. Your bare feet padded on the cold concrete floor as your heels hung from Bradley’s hand. 
“That’s the last time we leave here for anything pointless,” Bradley vowed, holding the door open for you. 
But his words seemed to startle you back to reality. Flickering your gaze up to his hardened stare, you frowned lightly. 
“So, I’m just locked away in here?” you whispered out.
“Until it’s safe,” he replied firmly, not even turning to look at you. 
“Don’t I get a say in this?” you demanded, raising your voice a little. 
“Sure. Do you want to live?” Rooster asked sarcastically, causing you to purse your lips together and glare at him. 
“So, I’m just your prisoner now?”
“I’m pretty sure that prisoners aren’t supposed to pay their captors,” Rooster replied with a bit of an attitude, causing you to scoff. “Look, it’s simple. You go out and you’re in danger. So, you’ll stay here where it’s safe.”
You took a step towards Bradley, glaring up at him. Bradley stared down at you evenly and even though you couldn’t quite pick up on it, his self-control was dangerously close to slipping. Your eyes bore into Bradley’s soul as your lips curled into a scowl. 
“You can’t keep me here forever. I’m not a prisoner. And I’m certainly not yours.”
Slipping off his jacket from around your shoulders, you shoved it into his chest before turning and storming off to your room. Bradley grabbed his jacket before it could fall to the ground and watched you as you stormed away from him, trying to not focus on the sensual sway of your hips or the subtle jiggle of your ass.
Gulping thickly, Bradley turned back to the monitors and focused on the task at hand. He gripped the table harshly, reminding himself why he was here. 
He was supposed to protect you. And he almost failed at his job tonight. You could have been hurt because he wasn’t paying attention. And he wouldn’t let himself slip again.
~~~~~ 
You were furious. Absolutely furious with Bradley.
He managed to convince your family that it was safer for you to stay in the safe house or at least a safe house than to go out. And before you could even wake up the next morning, any lick of freedom was taken away from you. The chances to see your friends and family? Gone. Unless they went through the thirty security steps to come visit you in the safe house. Any chance to do anything outside of the safe house sans emergencies? Gone.
You were livid. 
Storming downstairs in the compound, your bare feet padded against the polished concrete floors. You knew exactly where to find Bradley since he still sent you texts about where he was located in the house for safety procedures. You were still dressed in your pajamas, shorts and a tee shirt that actually belonged to Bradley, since you read through your texts with your family while brushing your teeth that morning. 
Forcing your way into the gym, you stormed over to where Bradley was working out, pumping some large dumbbells as music played in the background. Grabbing the remote, you shut off the music, causing Bradley to drop the dumbbells and whip around just in time to catch your positively irate expression.
“Where the hell do you get off!?” you demanded, poking him harshly in the middle of his chest. 
“You heard?” Bradley guessed, looking almost bored with the situation. 
“Of course, I heard! You tattletale!” 
“They requested a status update and I gave them one. It’s not my fault that they agree with me,” Bradley stated, earning a sharp glare from you. 
“Do you want me to go crazy in here?”
“You have every kind of entertainment that a person could possibly need—”
“—I am trapped with only one other person, who just happens to treat me like a child incapable of making their own decisions, in this stupid prison that I never asked for!” you yelled, causing Bradley to pause. “Of course, I’m going crazy! Stop treating me like I’m some delicate baby! And it wouldn’t kill you to listen to me for once!”
Without another word, you stormed out of the gym and headed back to your bedroom. Bradley sighed, running a hand through his hair. He paced a bit, wanting to go back to the workout that he started. But the second that he sat back down, he was standing up again, your disappointed and betrayed expression stuck in his mind.
Bradley walked through the halls, knowing from the security updates on his watch, that you returned to your bedroom. Reaching the door, he knocked lightly on the bulletproof material, letting it echo for a moment before he called your name. 
“What?” you called back, clearly annoyed. 
“Can we talk?”
“Fine. Come in.”
Bradley opened the door, letting it close behind him as he straightened up. But when he finally looked up, he practically stumbled to the floor at the sight of you. 
You were in the middle of tying your hair back and glanced over at Rooster from where you were sitting in front of your mirror. The clothes that you were wearing when you stormed into the gym to confront him were laid out on your bed. And what were you wearing?
A towel. A simple folded fluffy cream-colored towel was all that protected your modesty from his gaze.
“Well?” you demanded, seemingly unfazed by your state of undress.
In actuality, heat was subtly crawling up your neck when you caught the subtle dip of Bradley’s gaze to the tops of your breasts and then your thighs. But in the split second between Bradley’s knock and your answer, you were feeling overwhelmingly petty. And hell, if you were sick of being trapped in this place without any kind of escape, you assumed Bradley was just as pent up as you were.
And, well, you assumed that Bradley—the professional that he was—wouldn’t dare look at you or touch you and compromise his job. So, it was a quiet and not-so-subtle jab back at him for being such as ass and locking you in the safe house.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” Bradley asked, staring up at the ceiling awkwardly before turning back to you.
“Calm down, Captain Chastity, I’ve got a towel on,” you huffed, holding the towel together to prove your point. “And I was going to take a shower until you interrupted me.”
“Then why did you let me in here?” Rooster demanded, annoyance seeping into his tone.
“You wanted to talk and I wanted to get it over with,” you replied, standing up from your vanity.
Feeling a bit emboldened by the fact that Bradley wouldn’t even look at you when you were in this state, and in need of taking some kind of control in your life, you stood up and padded over to where Bradley was standing in your room.
His jaw was set harshly, making his jawline appear all the more sharp. Veins popped off of his neck due to how tightly he was holding his jaw shut. His cheeks were colored by perhaps rage or embarrassment or a mix of both. But he kept his gaze on your eyes. Never once breaking and glancing down to stare at the more scandalous views you. And well, if he wanted to play that game, you would play that game. This was a battle of wills and you weren’t going to crack first.
“I’m not your prisoner, Rooster,” you warned him. "You're not the boss of me."
"I'm just trying to do my job. Stop making it so difficult," Bradley shot back, staring you down.
In a flash of defiance and reflection of just how pent up you felt, you reached up and grabbed the fold of your towel. A quick flick of your wrist and the fabric gave way. Bradley, ever the professional, averted his eyes and stared at the ceiling as your towel pooled on the ground.
"Is that difficult enough for you?" you huffed, setting your hands on your now bare hips.
Staring up at him as he refused to move and look at you, you took two steps towards him, feeling more emboldened than before. Bradley noticeably tensed as you drew closer to him and raised yourself up on your toes to whisper in his ear.
“You can’t keep me locked in here forever," you vowed, causing Bradley's jaw to lock. "You're not the boss of me."
Bradley stayed where he was as you walked into your bathroom and started the shower. It wasn’t until he heard your shower door slide shut that he lowered his gaze away from the ceiling. Breathing heavily and now absolutely red in the face, Bradley glanced down to see your towel on the ground. Shuddering, he turned and stumbled out of your room.
He was about to turn for the gym before changing his mind and heading for his own bedroom instead. Slamming the door shut behind him, Rooster quickly locked the door behind him before heading for the shower himself. He wasted no time in cranking the shower to ice cold and shoving himself under the spray.
Jesus Christ, you were going to be the death of him.
Part 2
286 notes · View notes
ashes-2-ashes57cba · 1 month ago
Text
The Bad Batch: Valkyrie
Episode 6: Tribe
dank farrik: general expletive haar'chak: "dammit", Mando'a warnings: graphic descriptions of corpses, panic attack, nausea, (mild) arachnophobia, there's a Bluey reference This has not been edited
“Cid said the Vanguard Axis is notorious for illegal smuggling. So be ready for anything,” Hunter warned as the group stepped off the ship into the quiet port. 
“And Ord Mantell isn’t? I think we’ll be fine,” Specter scoffed.
“We’ll make the delivery. Echo, Specter, Omega: guard the ship,” ordered Hunter before he, Wrecker, and Tech walked off. Specter sighed and sat next to Omega on the gangplank.
“Let’s hope this doesn’t take long,” Echo mumbled, standing guard behind them. He and Specter had initially voted against this mission because of how involved the Batch would have to be, but they’d be receiving a higher payout because of their involvement. The pair were easily outvoted. 
Specter hardly realized she was nervously nibbling on her nails until Omega gently tugged on her arm. 
“What’s wrong?” the girl asked. Specter shook her head.
“I just don’t like this. I can’t read droids like I can people,” she explained, eyeing a droid in the distance that was stacking cargo. “You can’t sense intentions.”
“You killed them easily enough,” Echo commented behind her.
“Sure, but that’s killing them. Here we’re working with them,” she corrected. More quiet minutes passed by but the tension didn’t let up.
“You were right. There’s something off about this place, and I don’t like it,” Omega muttered. 
“Me neither,” Echo added. “But we should be almost done. I’ll prep the ship.” He walked inside, Specter stood up and kept a hand on Omega’s shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay by yourself? I’m going to do an external diagnostic, just to make sure we weren’t tagged,” she said. 
“I’ll be fine,” Omega nodded. Specter smiled and grabbed a datapad from inside before climbing up to the neck of the Marauder and plugging in. While the data loaded, she took a deep breath and looked at their surroundings again; she always denied that the war against the droids had affected her to any significance… but even now she couldn’t shake off her unease and urge to open fire. 
She shook the thought out of her head. The diagnostic resulted in nothing out of the ordinary. Specter unplugged and jumped down, finding Omega no longer sitting on the steps.
“Hey, Echo, is Omega in there with you?” she shouted into the ship?
“No. I thought she was with you,” he replied.
“Dank farrik,” Specter swore. “She must have wandered off. I’ll go find her.” She grabbed her blaster-rifle before dashing off to search for the girl.
“If I were Omega, where would I go? What am I drawn to?” Specter muttered to herself as she navigated through the port. There were too many hidden corners and crawl spaces to take into account, plus she didn’t want to draw the droids’ suspicions any more than she already had. 
Muffled sounds of a roar with metal clashing and two droids breaking from their patrol route: trouble. Omega was drawn to it. Specter sighed and headed toward the commotion in the next room over. The girl was there, along with a young Wookie.
“Omega, come on let’s head back to the ship,” she called, walking towards her. The Wookie growled at her, taking a step forward. 
“It’s okay, she’s a friend,” Omega reassured, stepping between the Wookie and Specter. He huffed and ran off. “Wait!” Omega called after him.
“What’s going on?” Specter asked, now increasingly worried. 
“Those droids are after him. Come on!” the girl explained before running off after him.
“No! Wait- Omega!” Specter quietly hissed. She groaned and followed.
Hunter carefully watched as the droid inspected their forgeries. He didn’t expect for there to be any issue—no foul play was involved, at least on their end—but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. The weight of his pistol kept him grounded and alert.
The droid’s comm beeped; it answered and was met with sounds of blasterfire.
“We have a situation,” a droid on the other end reported. The droid looked back up at him.
“Problem?” he shrugged. Hunter had hoped there wouldn’t be for this mission, but reality was often disappointing. The droid said nothing, only getting up and leaving the room with the rest of its guards.
“The cause of that blasterfire is either Echo or Omega. Most likely Omega,” said Tech. 
“Hey, Specter’s a contender,” Wrecker added.
“My point still stands.”
The comm beeped.
“Hey, uh, it’s no big deal or anything,” Specter came through, sounding nervous, “but we could use some backup. Just when you get the chance. Totally not an emergency, though.” Hunter sighed and shook his head.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“Why did you say it wasn’t an emergency?” Omega questioned as the three took cover behind some crates, dodging blasterfire.
“Just trying to lighten the mood so Echo and Hunter aren’t too grumpy,” Specter explained, training her blaster on the droids that began to surround them. 
“What sort of treachery is this?” the Vanguard Axis droid leader questioned, appearing with its guard. 
“Stay back!” Omega shouted, drawing back her energy bow. Specter took aim as it approached with a blaster in hand. A shot from behind them took out the weapon.
“They’re with us,” said Hunter, pistol still smoking. Specter smiled under her helmet, relieved to see him, and immediately started to look for a way to disappear and take out the leader. 
“I would advise you to take your soldiers and extricate yourselves from the situation,” it warned.
“No! They’re going to hurt him,” Omega argued, standing in front of the Wookie.
“On the contrary. The Wookie is worth a great deal to our buyer. Alive.” 
Specter bit her tongue; they were trafficking him. Rage started to cloud her vision before she noticed the Wookie put down his weapon and slowly raised his hands, closing his eyes in concentration. Hunter and the droid’s exchange became mere background noise as she realized what was happening.
There’s no way…
The lightsaber from the droid leader’s belt went flying to the Wookie’s paws. With a roar, he ignited the glowing green blade and blasterfire broke out again. He deflected and redirected shots, allowing for Specter to provide cover fire; Hunter and Tech pushed a nearby cargo-bed in front of Wrecker, who used it as a shield to push down any droids in his path. Hunter leapt over and took down the droid leader with his knife.
“Get to the ship!” he ordered. Specter dashed ahead, clearing the way for the rest of her crew to reach the Marauder. After shooting down two droids, she waited for them in the docking bay, doing a head count as they passed through the doorway, still firing behind them from the oncoming droids. Specter turned and laid down cover fire as soon as the Wookie passed her. Hunter joined her.
“Hurry!” Omega shouted to the Wookie as he hesitated.
“I’m right behind you,” Specter said, offering Hunter to break away to the ship first.
“Uh-uh. Ladies first,” he insisted. She clicked her tongue, but holstered her rifle and ran as fast as she could to the Marauder. Hunter jumped on behind her as they took off on their way to safety.
Tumblr media
Specter’s eyes fluttered open as the adrenaline finally wore off and her breathing returned to normal. She took off her helmet and shook out her hair.
“You alright, Spec? You don’t usually get winded like that,” Echo asked, leaning back from the co-pilot’s seat.
“Yeah, I think I was just off on my stride,” she explained. “My focus slipped…” she glanced at the young Wookie who sat on the floor, hugging his knees at the back of the ship. 
“Why is he sitting back there alone?” Omega wondered while Wrecker handed her the ration box.
“Because he’s scared. He’s been through a lot,” Hunter explained.
“Well, he still needs to eat.” With determination, Omega took the ration box and made her approach. “Here. You look hungry,” she said. The Wookie lifted his head as she opened the box to him and set down the water bottle. Tech, Hunter, and Specter followed her into the hold to observe—Echo and Wrecker kept an eye on the cockpit—but the Wookie bared his teeth and growled. “What’s wrong?”
“He doesn’t trust us,” Hunter answered.
“Well, seeing how all clones were given an order to execute the Jedi, he has good reason to be cautious,” Tech added. Specter rolled her eyes at his bluntness. 
“I’m sorry about what happened. But we are not like those other clones,” Hunter apologized.
“We didn’t follow that order. And we don’t work for the Empire either,” said Specter, sitting down.
“They’re telling the truth. You don’t have to be afraid of us” Omega reassured. “It’s okay. Eat.” She pushed the box closer to him. He glanced at the clones behind her before snatching it and starting to eat. Omega smiled and propped herself up on an open bunk.
“I’m Omega. What’s your name?”
With his mouth full, the Wookie answered.
“My Wookie is a little rusty, but I think he says his name is Gungi,” Hunter translated. 
“I don’t remember you taking Shyriiwook,” Specter commented with her arms crossed.
“You and Crosshair were too busy taking sign language,” Hunter retaliated.
“And which one is more useful?”
“At the moment? Shyriiwook.”
Specter rolled her eyes just as Gungi finished eating and spoke some more. She waited for Hunter to translate, but he sighed and turned back to Tech.
“You catch that?”
“He’s been on the run since Order 66 and was attempting to reach the Wookie homeworld of Kashyyyk before he was captured by those smuggling droids,” Tech explained. Specter’s heart broke; Order 66 was a long while ago now and the young Wookie still hadn’t made it home.
“I’m not sure how you survived this long on your own, but it’s impressive,” Hunter complimented.
“Hunter,” Specter muttered before she even realized what she was about to say. “We should take him to his homeworld.” Omega’s eyes lit up at the idea. Specter wanted to think it was from the compassion of wanting to make sure he’s safe, but she knew deep down that if they harbored a young Jedi, they’d end up as collateral. Specter wanted to secure Gungi’s safety, but her priority was securing Omega’s.
“Been a while since we’ve been to Kashyyyk,” Wrecker added. Hunter took a moment before nodding and standing up to chart a course. Echo stopped him.
“The Empire could have outposts there by now. We don’t know if it’s safe for him there,” he warned in a low voice, careful as to not raise any more caution for the Wookie.
“He’s a Jedi,” Hunter sighed, patting Echo’s shoulder in understanding. “He’s not safe anywhere. 
Tumblr media
Hyperspace faded and the lush planet of Kashyyyk came into view. Specter leaned back in the co-pilot’s seat and recalled the last time the Batch had been stationed there.
It was a simple assist; they were tasked with gathering intel from a small Separatist outpost before destroying it. 
“Wrecker watch your six. And hurry!
“Well do you want me to be careful or be fast?!”
“Hunter, I need the twins to close in before I activate the trap.” “You guys copy?”
“We copy. En route.” 
Crosshair and Specter kept running, firing blindly behind them at the small horde of droids on their tail. 
“Almost there.”
“You said that 2 klicks ago, Specter!”
“Well this time I mean it!” An alert trilled in her helmet. “Alright I have the signal, I just need the height. Can we pull off a ‘Stick-bird’?”
“We can if you would stop calling it ‘Stick-bird’,” Crosshair hissed. He picked up his pace while Specter slowed hers, making sure none of the droids decided to come from the side to cut them off. 
Ahead of her, Crosshair slid to a stop and took a knee, facing her with his rifle. As soon as she passed a sensor they had laid down earlier, two targets popped up, one on the ground within Crosshair’s scopes, far behind the droid horde and one high above within the treeline.  
She ran at full speed before jumping onto Crosshair’s rifle, using it as a platform. He hoisted her up into the air, she twisted and simultaneously, they hit their targets. The droids caught in between the targets immediately powered down
“Nice job, you two.”
Specter could admit she missed Crosshair, but she knew that dwelling on it wouldn’t be of any help to them now. 
“We’re heading to a village we know of. The Wookies there should be able to help you,” said Hunter, entering the cabin and putting a hand on Gungi’s shoulder. 
“I’ve locked onto the coordinates. But I’m picking up heavy smoke and deforestation,” Echo reported from one of the control panels. 
“Keep an eye out for Imperial outposts,” instructed Hunter. “Oh, and kid. Keep that laser sword hidden. It, uh, draws attention we don’t want.” Gungi unclipped his lightsaber and stowed it away in his bag. Hunter went to stand by Specter, leaning down.
“What do you think?” he quietly asked her.
“In terms of the Empire? No visual signs or Imperial frequencies came up. Other than that, I think we’ll be okay,” she whispered back. “You know I had a feeling there were still Jedi out there… but I didn’t think we’d actually run into one.”
“You and me both,” he muttered, glancing back at the Wookie. “But the sooner he’s out of our hair, the safer we’ll all be.”
They landed in the dense forest. The towering trees and vegetation gave them enough coverage should any patrols in the air come looking. Specter geared up, readjusting her boots and securing her rifle components, grabbing her axe as well. 
Together they all filed out of the Marauder and began the trek through the forest. It felt familiar and foreign at the same time, Specter kept expecting to find some remnant of a droid left behind. Hunter’s hand gently brushed hers, silently asking if she was alright. She nodded.
“Do you remember anything about this planet?” Omega asked Gungi. He replied softly in Shyriiwook. “What did he say?”
“From his dreams,” Hunter translated. Specter knew with how young the Jedi took away the children that the only way Gungi could have any semblance of familiarity would be from his Force. She wondered if it was anything like her Valkyrie senses.
Deeper into the forest, they came upon what looked like a cluster of webs. Specter shivered and fought back a heave. 
“Here. I’ll take care of it,” Wrecker said, unsheathing his machete and cutting away the webs. 
“I don’t remember any insects or arachnids the last time we were here,” Specter whimpered.
“We were stationed during the cold seasons. But you will be fine,” Tech said, patting her shoulder as he passed by. Specter gulped and shook out her hands, steeling herself before following the group into the nest. 
“Woah!” Wrecker cried out, stopping the group.
“What do you mean ‘woah’- oh that is a big spider,” Specter shivered, looking up and seeing several orange, spider-like creatures descending upon them, shrieking and chattering.
“They’re swarming us!” said Echo. Wrecker drew his blaster; Specter reached for her axe, holding it up, ready to strike. 
“Hold your fire,” Hunter ordered. Gungi placed his hands on their weapons and shook his head, saying something. 
“He says, ‘they will not attack unless we pose a threat’,” Tech translated. Specter watched as the young Wookie closed his eyes and reached out with his hand, calming the creatures enough to let them pass. She breathed a sigh of relief and clipped her axe, following Gungi and the others under and around the webs; she winced as she passed.
Further along, the team came to a ledge, finding brown smoke a short distance away in the valley below. Specter gasped at the sight. 
“According to my telemetry, the village is straight ahead,” Tech pointed out.
“Of course it is,” Specter mumbled.
By the time they reached the village, they already knew they wouldn’t find anyone. All the main structures had been burnt down and there was no one in sight. Gungi fell to his knees, whimpering in sorrow.
“Tanks came through here,” Hunter felt the tracks on the ground, “the Empire incinerated the entire village.” 
Specter felt a buzzing in the back of her neck; it crawled up through her helmet and behind her ear as she turned to find another small column of smoke only a few feet away, the source hidden behind a fallen tree. She jogged over, but the buzzing only increased as a nauseating stench filled the air with each step closer to the mysterious source.  
Climbing over the log, she found, was a mistake. 
What was left of the Wookies were burning. Large patches of fur were missing on the bodies that hadn’t been completely charred yet. 
She blinked and for a split second she saw the bodies of clones, her group among them.
The noise inside Specter’s head was deafening, she could barely hear the sounds of her hyperventilating through the piercing hum. She couldn’t think—she could barely fathom trying to collect herself and remind herself that she was better than this. The sight was too much and was beginning to bore into her mind. She scrambled away, breathing heavily through tears and trying to rid her helmet of the smell that lingered.
It wasn’t enough.
She returned to the group in a panic, trying and failing to get her helmet off.
“Specter, what’s wrong?” Hunter asked, worried about the state she returned in. She couldn’t answer, only shaking her head as the taste of bile coated her tongue. She screamed in frustration as she finally yanked her helmet off and threw it on the ground, gasping for air and falling to her knees, clutching the still-warm dirt. Her heartbeat rattled her bones and the buzzing shattered them. Hunter kneeled beside her, rubbing her back while Wrecker kneeled in front of her. 
“Breathe, Specter, breathe,” he softly said. Behind him, Echo stood with Gungi and Omega. Specter glanced through her tears back towards the smoke stack.
“What was over there, Specter?” Tech asked, gently.
“The-” she cleared her throat and swallowed hard, “the Wookies fro-from the village.” She could see Wrecker and Tech’s stance deflate, she wanted to cry but couldn’t. Hunter nodded towards the both of them, they stepped back and gave the two of them space. He took off his helmet and moved in front of her.
“Specter. Hey, Specter, look at me,” he said, gently tilting up her chin and moving hair out of her face. He could barely stand to look at her red eyes, still lined with distress. “I’m right here. We’re okay,” he reassured, making sure her eyes locked with his. 
The image of the bodies faded as Specter focused solely on the details of Hunter's face; the shape of his nose, the stubble across his chin, her reflection in his kind gray eyes. Her breathing slowed, she could feel herself calming down and returning to normal.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He leaned forward and hugged her tight. She weakly hugged him back. “I thought I had it under control.”
“You’re okay, Spec,” he muttered. “You’re allowed to lose control sometimes and feel what you need to feel. You just had me worried.” He pulled away, holding the side of her face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. She took another deep breath and nodded, moving to stand up; he helped her up and Tech handed over her helmet. 
“I administered a spray that should help with the smell… and nausea,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice still hoarse. She shoved it on—Tech’s spray had worked—hiding her face. 
A mechanical rumbling disrupted the group, they all looked in the direction the sound came from, running over to take cover in the tall grass. Hunter signaled for Specter to take a position high in the trees, she nodded, her focus on the mission returning. She veered off, climbing one of the tall trees and settling into the hold of its branches.
Through her sniper scope she could see a squad of Imperial tanks with Trandoshans at the helm. An adult Wookie was cuffed as a hostage. 
“Specter, you seeing this?” Hunter asked through the comm.
“Copy. I’m clocking two tanks and maybe a dozen Trandoshans. One hostage,” she reported. The lead tank launched a blaze of fire at a cairn of stones, ruining their carved surface and almost melting them. Her finger itched on the trigger before a blur crossed her scope.
“Damn kid,” she hissed, watching as Gungi ran up to the Trandoshans and bared his teeth, turning on his lightsaber. Blaster shots rang out, Gungi deflected them with ease and the Batch returned fire. Specter took the chance and started sniping away at the Trandoshans, not caring if her shots ended up killing them. 
Some of her shots missed; she knew she was nowhere near her twin’s skill level, with or without the emotional distress. Specter took a breath, pulling away from the scope to let her eyes relax before snapping back into focus.
The world was slow. Her next few shots came clear. One to the head. Another, the heart. The last: from the back as he charged at Tech, who was occupied with another Trandoshan.
A bolt flew by her head, pulling her out of her zone and setting the world back into motion. One of the Trandoshans had tracked her shots. 
“Haar’chak!” she hissed, stowing her weapon and climbing down the tree. The blaster fire stopped by the time she reached the ground, but the flames hadn’t.
“We need to stop the flames from spreading,” Hunter said. “Start digging.” He handed out shovels from the fallen tanks, offering one to Specter; she turned it down in favor of her axe. They started hacking away at the ground. 
Tumblr media
Specter’s arms were tired from swinging her axe—using her blaster never involved that much arm work—but she pushed on until the fire was contained and died out. Their work was done. The team began to regroup, but she hesitated upon seeing Gungi. Her heart ached for him, more so after seeing the remains of his people, and wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to handle herself. A distant chittering and shrieking caught their attention.
“More Trandoshans?” Echo questioned.
“No. Something bigger,” Hunter theorized, sensing whatever was coming their way. Specter gripped her axe but didn’t raise it, waiting to see what would approach. 
Suddenly, three giant feline creatures jumped down; one was mounted by the Wookie hostage Gungi had freed earlier. The three of them gave celebratory growls and motioned for them to climb up.
“They said they’ll take us to their village,” Hunter translated, holstering his pistol.
“Well, that’s convenient,” Specter said with a smirk. They all grouped up, Hunter reached down and offered his hand to Specter, pulling her up. She wrapped her arms around his waist just as the Wookies began their journey back to the village. 
They arrived at the village, climbing down from the creatures, greeted by an elder and her two guards. She greeted the former hostage while Specter helped Omega down. The elder welcomed the group.
“Her name is Yanna. She appears to be leading them,” Tech translated.
“We are returning him to his homeworld,” Hunter explained to Yanna, Wrecker stepped aside so Gungi could go forward, “but he doesn’t know what village he’s from.” Yanna gingerly caressed the side of Gungi’s face, bowing her head, expecting a greeting. Gungi awkwardly touched his forehead to hers, unsure. 
“Is that their greeting?” Omega whispered.
“It is,” Specter answered. 
“But you and Hunter do the same thing, and it doesn’t look like a greeting.”
“Well it just means something different,” Specter explained, clearing her throat and averting her gaze. Yanna smiled but asked Hunter something else.
“We were soldiers of the Republic. But let’s just say we don’t see eye-to-eye with the Empire,” Hunter explained. Yanna spoke, perhaps finding their intentions suspicious. 
“We came because Gungi was in trouble. Jedi or not, he’s still a child. He needs his people.”
The Wookies had invited the Batch inside to eat while Hunter, Tech, and Omega discussed with Yanna about Gungi’s situation. Specter sharpened her axe blade with a sharpening stone one of the Wookies had offered her. 
She forced herself to be occupied, worried that if she stopped to think, the image of the burning bodies would flicker back to life. 
Specter checked the edge of the blade. A dull spot near the tip and near the bottom. She continued to work at it, even as the Wookie from earlier brought out soup for them. He took a bowl full and sipped before offering to Echo.
“Uh, no thanks,” he declined, making a face. 
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Wrecker said with a laugh, grabbing the bowl and taking big gulps. “You want any, Spec?”
“Hmm? No, it’s all yours. I don’t have much of an appetite,” she shrugged. Wrecker went at it, but Echo spared her a concerned glance. She gave him a small smile.
“Yanna’s agreed to let Gungi stay with them,” Omega announced as she and the others came around the table. 
“What about the Trandoshans?” Echo wondered.
“The Empire’s been using them to strip the planet’s resources,” Hunter explained. Specter stopped grinding, biting her tongue. “Many of the villagers have fled deeper into the jungle.”
“Yanna’s scouts are reporting a large convoy headed in this direction. She says to leave,” Tech said.
“Hunter, the Wookies were our allies for years. We have to do something,” Echo urged. Hunter glanced at Specter; she said nothing, but her eyes conveyed the same longing. She wouldn’t allow them to just leave, not after what she had seen.
“We’ll stay and help you fight them,” Hunter told Yanna. She seemed to argue against it, concerned for their safety. “You don’t have to do this alone.” Gungi roared, adding his point; Yanna growled, calling the other Wookies to follow her outside. The Batch watched as they laid their hands on the tree and bowed their heads, kneeling before it. Gungi copied them, though Specter doubted he knew what he was supposed to do. 
“What are they doing?” Omega asked.
“They’re asking the trees for help,” Hunter answered.
“They’re talking to the trees?”
“They believe this planet belongs to the trees. And they are allies in this fight,” Tech explained. 
“We’ll take all the allies we can get,” said Hunter. “Let’s let them come up with a plan. Wrecker and Echo, you scout the south side of the village.” The pair saluted and went off. “Specter, can I talk to you?”
She huffed, knowing she would be questioned about her state and if she would be able to put up a fight. But she nodded and followed Hunter to a more private corner so they could talk. Specter propped herself up on the railing while he leaned against the wall, facing her with his arms crossed.
“What happened back there?” he asked, gently. She sighed.
“... it was easier when we were fighting droids. They didn’t have the capacity to be so… cruel,” she admitted. “At least they just shot you and moved on. They didn’t raid your entire village and then skin you.” Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the rail, still feeling the heat from that fire. “I saw the pile of those bodies… and I saw us–clones–burning with them. I saw you and I just,” she paused to take a steadying breath, “just feel so much weaker. Everything I’ve been feeling has been affecting me and my performance in the field,” she said. “If you want me out of the fight this time around, just say so. Don’t play the long game with me.”
“No,” Hunter shut the idea down. “I need you to fight, because even though you think you’re weaker, you’re our strongest fighter because you feel so much.” Specter looked up at him then. “When the rest of us think a mission can’t be done, or that we’re not going to make it, there you are willing to push on until your very last breath because of the motivation in your heart.” He went to stand next to her.
“Look, I know you may feel weak and hopeless—seeing those bodies would be upsetting to any one of us—but I know that you aren’t going to just fight. You’re going to give it your all to avenge them. Am I right?”
“Yeah… I-”
“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted her. “Never apologize for feeling too much,” he looked up at her. She nodded, genuinely feeling better. The bodies had burned away and she could now scatter the ashes.
“Thank you, then. You know I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you,” she said with a smile. He placed his hand over hers.
“Anytime, anything, Spec.” Their eyes locked, Specter was certain it had gotten warmer. Her eyes fluttered before Echo and Wrecker came running back. Specter hopped off the rail and put distance between herself and Hunter, walking back towards Tech and Omega.
“The Trandoshan convoy’s closing in,” Echo reported. Gungi approached, speaking in Shyriiwook.
“The trees have a plan?” Hunter questioned. “Alright. Whatever they say,” he shrugged, putting on his helmet.
“This oughta be good,” Specter muttered. 
Tumblr media
The convoy slowly approached, keeping an eye out for any targets. Unfortunately for them, the Batch and the Wookies were waiting for them. Tech threw a grenade, the explosion disrupted their path and the battle begun. The Batch and the Wookies laid heavy fire at the Trandoshans, attempting to turn them back the way they came. Specter, using her rifle, unleashed rapid-fire, pelting the Trandoshans and the handful of Imperial troopers that were with them. Wookies mounted on their felines jumped down, crushing a few and trampling on the tanks, drawing their fire. 
“Stick to the plan. Draw them into the nest,” said Hunter. With that, the group moved their position, drawing the Trandoshans and Imperials away from the village and toward the nest of webs. “Specter, do you think you can head deeper inside?”
“I can’t really say no, can I?” she asked, dreading the task.
“We’re really counting on you,” Hunter urged, dodging blaster fire. 
“Fine. I’ll wait for your signal,” she sighed. Specter stowed her rifle and ran into the nest. Wookies were already banging on the trees and webs, disturbing the creatures that resided.
“Ew, ew, ew!” she whimpered, maneuvering around the sticky webs. At the base of a great tree, she shook out her hands and began to climb up, stationing herself just above where the Kinraths scurried about. They hadn’t noticed her yet; she watched from between leaves and webs as what was left of the convoy drew closer.
The Wookies stopped their ruckus. Her signal.
With her sniper rifle, she aimed and fired a single shot at the feet of the lead Trandoshan, startling the Kinraths. With a screech, they descended from the trees and attacked the convoy, finishing them off. She breathed a sigh of relief and began to climb down before her comm chimed.
“Specter, do you have eyes on the kids? We lost track,” Hunter asked. 
“Standby,” she replied, moving from branch to branch, looking for any sign of them. “Hunter?” she called in, “I’m not seeing Gungi or Omega, but I do see smoke. And where there’s smoke, there’s fire. West by north-west of your current position.”
“Copy.”
By the time Specter had made it back to the ground, Tech was already gathering the Wookies to move on Hunter’s position.
“What’s the problem now?” she asked.
“That fire you saw was bigger than we thought and is spreading fast,” Tech explained. 
“Good thing you sharpened your axe, huh?” Wrecker added, jogging past. Specter groaned but unsheathed the weapon.
“Alright, but let’s hope this is the last time today.”
Tumblr media
Specter rolled her shoulders as they approached the village, but she was happy their work was done nonetheless. She’d miss Kashyyyk, doubting they would return any time soon, if at all. The Wookies had led them inside for a feast while Gungi took Omega outside, showing her how to speak to the trees; Hunter left the table to watch over them, Specter joined him.
“Do you think he’ll be okay here?” she asked, coming up next to him.
“Yeah. Jedi or not, he’s a strong kid. I think he’ll be just fine,” he assured. They watched as Omega took a knee next to Gungi and placed a hand on the tree, bowing her head. Hunter glanced down at the space between him and Specter, carefully taking her hand in his and interlacing their fingers together. Her breath caught, but she forced herself to keep looking ahead, unable to stop the smile that lifted the corners of her lips.
“And what about you? Are you going to be okay?” Hunter asked. She didn’t know how to answer; it would feel odd to simply leave the planet after everything she had seen. But she saw Omega and Gungi, peacefully kneeling at the base of the tree without any shred of worry. 
“I think I will be,” she finally answered, smiling at Hunter and squeezing his hand. Turning back to the kids, she closed her eyes and felt the sun kiss her cheek and the breeze ruffle her hair.
She knew it would be hard, harder than anything she had ever faced, but Specter knew her journey wasn't over. At least with her team—her tribe—by her side, she'd overcome every challenge thrown her way and become the Valkyrie she was made to be.
5 notes · View notes
stingslikeabee · 5 months ago
Note
mun ask meme: dash commentary, fanon interpretations, another rpc you're no longer part of
send a number for me to talk about one of the following topics . accepting
1. dash commentary
I'm mostly... Neutral about it, I guess? I don't engage in this practice at all simply because I do not favor rapid-fire / crack interactions (I always felt that being iconless contributed to this, haha - I just prefer asks and threads over this type of activity). What I will add is that participating in dash comm once landed me in one of the very few cases of 'drama' pertaining to roleplay, and I'm just doing fine without reacting to stuff I see.
(Also I think it's complicated to follow - sometimes I just see part of the thing the commentary is about and without context I simply Do Not Get It, so I just keep quiet, haha.)
2. fanon interpretations
I like to see them around! While I am personally canon-compliant to the extent possible with a lot of headcanons to get all the canon stuff together, I do enjoy reading about other's perceptions of certain events/characters or even plotlines. I will say that I am more interested/favor those that are created in a canon vacuum where they just elaborate upon/create things to explain a given canon event or further detail things that are not shown in-game altogether.
I tend not to follow / interact with severely canon-divergent portrayals of certain muses (particularly on my canon blog) if they vastly disagree with something I (as a fan) see differently, haha. This is less common on Melissa, but it has happened with my other blorbos.
The last thing I have to say on the topic is that it's never comfortable when you're in the minority of the fandom - I can vouch for this for both Akiyama and Cid in their fandoms. Going by the tags, I just keep finding stuff from the RGG and FFXVI fandoms that I just cannot agree with and it makes me steer away from the blogs that actively incorporate that in their portrayals (not that it matters now because I'm not active, but shhhh). I won't go in detail and I think everyone has their own space to create their children as they see fit, but sometimes it can be lonely when you feel you're the single one supporting a given take, haha.
3. another rpc you're no longer a part of
I am technically still in a lot of them because Melissa makes my head full of contradictory stuff being fandomless, but I will try to narrow it down to two particularly niche rpcs where I saw certain trends that made me a bit frustrated.
RGG is the first one - I was weirdly surprised by the amount of OCs with RGG verses that appeared to just ignore the franchise dynamics (or even the irl thing, for that matter) by establishing immensely powerful characters that would not fit in a world that is already so ridiculously populated with over the top, invincible types. It was either another criminal lord that could rival the Tojo at a stupidly young age or someone with ties to certain canon muses that would have been affected by the existence of these relatives / connections. It just made me very frustrated because nothing about it felt real (granted I know Kiryu fought tigers inside Osaka-jo with his bare hands and that 'realism' in RGG can be a bit of a stretch but I like to be as close as I can to the sources haha).
Another rpc that surprised me in a way was Path to Nowhere - it didn't really flourish and I imagine it's because the game is very niche and small compared to other gachas, but I truly expected more people to be writing about the game lore and trying to dissect the story. it's one of the greatest things about it, literally every player will tell their friends about how good and insanely well-crafted the storytelling is... And yet I don't see it in the rpc. We got more bits of story added in and I just don't see anything about it being expanded. It felt like a very... Superficial rpc with the exception of a few blogs, and largely inactive, haha. I get that not owning a certain character can lock you out from certain profiles/interrogations, but they're available online. I just... Don't know. For a game that creates such an interesting 20 minutes into the future scenario with superpowers, I find the writers very unwilling to explore the canon we have. I wished people yelled more about their thoughts.
5 notes · View notes
harpyreborn · 9 months ago
Text
Married life
A Samphen Ficlet comm for @igopoof
Sam appeared as suddenly as he disappeared. One day here and the next day gone. But that was the nature of the teleporting demon. Which worked just fine for Phenexis who was as likely to be home as she were to be off on an adventure to who knew where.
So when the two crossed paths on her island for the first time, Phenexis was shaken. He had just appeared suddenly from seemingly thin air while she was out on a run. But….what was he and who was he and HOW had he gotten here and WHY? Well, she had time to ask him all that and more. She learned that he was a traveler like her and like her he wasn’t human (or in her case fully human.) And he in turn learned that this place was secret and if he wished to come here again he’d have to swear to keep it that way. He did. And he came back. Alot. Unbeknownst to the Phoenix child the demon had caught feelings for her.
He caught her off guard when in the middle of a hang sesh he asked her on a date! Knowing dates were about getting to know one another, which they had already been doing, she agreed. They continued to do what they had always done. But there was an added level of romance now. She knew of his feelings for her and though it took her many years to know if she felt the same, she found that she did. And his willingness to wait for her to figure that out was a key factor in what led to their eventual Marriage. And eventual family.
Now you’re caught up! So, hows family life for this couple? Well lets go find out!
Phenexis sat in the yard, polishing not only her weapons but Sam’s as well. Sam however was dashing around the yard being chased by two children. One boy, one girl.
They had a mix of humanoid, demonic and Phoenix features.
Each child had a pair of horns and long whip like tails with feathers at the base and tip. They had bird scaled legs, and wing arms with large clawed hands at the ends. The children taking on more permanent Harpy like looks. And just like phenexis the tips of their wings and hair smoldered with phoenix fire. Both children Had heterochromatic eyes like their mother but Their eyes a mix of blue and brown and brown and green. The brown from their father. Their pupils slit, like their fathers. The children had dark skin like both, but freckles like Phenexis. The kids had Dark hair with red bangs, but their texture was more like Sams and so they chose to loc their hair like their father. But the children chose different styles. The girl wanting to keep her hair long like her daddy and the boy short like mom.
Sam scurried up a tree and lept to another as the two five year olds screamed and laughed, scrambling after him. He blew Phen a kiss who rolled her eyes and with a smile stuck her tongue out at the man. The children giggled at the affectionate gesture and went bounding after their father. Flapping tiny wings and more or less keeping air-born as they played tag.
With the weapons polished, she checked the equipment and made sure it was sturdy and safe before packing it in twin backpacks. One hers, one his. A man of eight feet tall with pointed ears and teeth walked out holding a towel.
“Children, Lunch!” He called out. Then looked at Phen and smiled. His name was Istuindir and he was an Elf she had met very early on in her adventures.
“Leaving soon?” He asked.
“Yep, sam and I will take the lead, make sure its safe and set up shop, then we carry on as usual.” Phenexis replied.
“Calabast will be disappointed he isn’t going with you first.”
“He is, I can feel him grumbling but he agrees its the safest option. When we know whats up he can go too.”
The children dash over to the elf and attach to his legs.
“Unky istu! Hungrryyyyy feeeed uuuus!” They cheered in unison. The elf smiles and makes an exaggerated effort to walk.
“Oh! Phen you need to stop feeding them, these children are FAR too heavy.” He jokes and he takes well practiced heavy footsteps back inside and down the stairs, children giggling and bouncing on his boots.
Phenexis, sam, the kids and istu walk into Phens old shack house house turned bedroom and downstairs to the true house laughing at the children’s antics.
At the table, sat An alien lizard, An android with white hair and a former human Turned android with blue hair. The quintet join the fray and seat themselves, food instantly being passed around. Plates are filled (save two) and conversations are had.
After lunch the kids are kissed on the head, sent off to play with Calabast while Sam and Phen grab their packs and head outside. The pair stand on the shore of her personal beachfront home as Phen draws her sword, channels energy into it and slices open the air before them. A rift opens up, phen takes a peak and then throws herself into it silently, Sam following suit behind her.
Hours later they return. The pair are haggard and bloody. Phen slides her pack off and lies face down on the kitchen floor.
“Bad?” The tall blue haired woman asks.
“At first. Found a better place to open shop. Kids in bed?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” She sighs.
Sam walks in behind her, pats his wife on her head.
“We uhhhhh we landed in a Dungeon. It was a blast but definitely caught us off guard. My poor Baby got stabbed right in the gut by a trap. Then we fought off a goblin horde, some living armor, a few skeletons and a salamander. Then we found a level that held all manner of somewhat shady shops but with good people, seemed as good a place as any to set up. And now that we got some info on the place it would be fun to explore. The bazzar is safe for the kids to run around and look at stuff when were not all exploring.” He sits beside phen.
She looks up at Ellie and smiles brightly, that tell tale look in her eyes. “Its gonna be a blast.”
They get up, clean up, kiss the kids heads and retreat to bed.
The next morning they get up, get their gear and everyone in the household heads out to explore the dungeon. Smiles abound, hearts soaring and love pouring. And their lives were basically the same every day. There was almost always a new adventure.
And when they weren’t adventuring they were spending time with their parents, families, friends and eachother getting closer and closer.
1 note · View note
pentechnics · 3 years ago
Text
Weight
Chapter 15 of Of Love and Time
Summary: Din contemplates the myriad of changes his world has undergone. His heart aches for you while he tries to determine how many more risks lie ahead, and how he's supposed to keep a handle on his grudges. His family, ever present as they are, do what they can to support him.
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (no y/n)
Series content: teacher/parent AU, fluff, slow burn, lots of mutual pining, sexual tension, mentions of past trauma (tagged in detail for specific chapters), depictions of violence (nothing explicit, no gore), angst, a dash of hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Grogu is at the equivalent age of a human 4-year-old and can speak
Notes: I am once again apologizing for the wait Din's POV? In my main storyline? More likely than you think! 😜 This one was particularly tricky to write since it's so unlike the rest! I'll admit, it's mostly filler, but there's a lot of good important context and cute father-son moments as well! I did still have a good time with it and I hope you enjoy it! We're nearing the end here, my loves, which means the remaining chapters are going to be much easier for me to write and shouldn't take as long to get out there! I'm anticipating two more full chapters and an epilogue before this story is done. Fret not though, I'll still 100% write drabbles/other such requests for this universe once that happens!
Again, I am so grateful for all of your love and support with this series! And I'm especially thankful for your patience with these past few chapters. I'm sorry they've taken so long to get released, but I'm really hoping that won't be the case anymore! Please leave me your thoughts and as always, all the love to you! ❤️
Taglists under the cut; let me know if you'd like to be added!
Din sat at the kitchen counter, comm in hand.
He’d been staring at it for at least an hour now.
The dim yellow light spilled all around him, coating the kitchen in its soft glow. The living room just beyond was cloaked in a silent darkness.
It was late, everyone else in the house had retired hours ago. But Din couldn’t sleep.
When he tried to lay down, he was met with an endless mental assault of thoughts: concerns, scenarios that he could do nothing to stop, situations from the past that he could’ve handled in a different way.
So many things he could’ve said. So many things he wanted to say now.
He sighed and set the comm down, running his hands down his face.
He couldn't help worrying about you. You seemed so sad the day he left, and the stress from the report had to be weighing on you. And that was enough to stress about without Bo acting like a complete ass to you.
Din was furious when Gila told him what happened. She had to physically stop him from marching into Bo’s classroom to strangle him. No one threatens his son without facing consequences. And no one should dare to treat you with such disrespect and malice without getting ripped apart.
Din’s nostrils flared with his breath, anger boiling as he recalled the meeting.
He wasn’t worried about Bo’s threat. Himself aside, Fennec and Boba would not be deterred by the words of a worm like that. No matter what Bo tried to pull, they weren’t leaving without a fight.
More than anything he wanted to make sure you were okay. He’d asked Gila countless times how you were, if Bo had hurt you, if you needed anything. After some prying she described how shaken up you were, and it tugged at something deep inside him.
You were not fragile. He’d seen your strength for himself in a multitude of ways. There was no doubt that you were thinking of Grogu first, which may have been why it affected you the way it did, but regardless of that it wasn’t something typical of you. And that scared Din.
He wanted nothing more than to hold you. To let you rest, take on your burden, and protect you. It killed him that he couldn’t be there to help. He had to know how you were doing.
He picked up his comm and began typing in the little box under your name.
‘Are you okay? Gila told me what happened.’
His thumb hovered over the ‘send’ arrow with hesitance. The two of you had an agreement, and this would breach it. But surely this situation was good reason? He sighed and set the comm down again, his nocturnal thoughts continuing to race.
It had been a week and a half since he last saw you. Since he last spoke more than a few sentences to you. Since he last touched you. He never imagined his heart would ache for you the way it was now, like a dull wound that carried its pain out for as long as possible to make him suffer all the more. An ache that grew stronger with the passage of time. He rubbed a hand against his chest in an attempt to ease the sensation.
Seeing you from a distance at school was too reminiscent of when Grogu first started. Back then Din was apprehensive, skittish, ready to snap at the first person that gave Grogu a weird look. And that didn’t change when he met you.
It took him time to adjust. He was so worried; it wasn’t easy to leave Grogu after having him in constant sight for so long. But you were patient, and you took the time to ease him into it. You proved your loyalty to your work, which involved Grogu’s protection. With that — and Grogu’s approval of you — it didn’t take Din nearly as long as he thought it would to be okay with the arrangement. That was the gateway to him finding out just how special you were.
Getting to see more of you over time, understanding the other amazing things you had to share, was an extra surprise. One he enjoyed with all his heart. There was more to be found about you, and he wanted to explore it all.
He’d be damned if he didn’t respect you the way you deserved.
He shut his comm down, turned off the kitchen light, and headed back to bed.
~~~~
Neither Din nor Grogu were fond of mornings. Din wouldn’t be able to resist giving his adorable sleeping boy five extra minutes in bed when the first attempt to wake him up failed. And then there was getting him washed up. Grogu would find any little thing to stall for time when Din tried to get him to brush his little teeth.
“You don’t even have that many, kid,” Din said. “It only takes a quick second.”
Regardless, the battle continued on until Din reminded him that he wouldn’t be able to eat breakfast if he didn’t brush, to which Grogu conceded. The promise of food never failed. Then came dressing up and collecting supplies for the day.
This portion was Din’s favorite, since the two of them did it together.
He helped Grogu get his clothes on before taking the time to suit up, Grogu bouncing on top of Din’s bed in the meantime. When that was done Grogu ran off to gather his backpack while Din packed up his satchel.
The cool frost of the morning greeted them when they stepped out of the house; Grogu puffed out breaths of air to watch them dissipate into mist.
“Look, Papa, I can breathe fire!”
Din chuckled and wrapped Grogu up in a blanket, taking care to cover up his big ears, before placing him on the speeder bike and securing him in place.
“You excited for school, firebreather?” he asked.
“Yep!” Grogu said with a smile.
That look of joy alone made the morning hustle worth it every time.
Din hopped on the bike and sped away from the house.
When they arrived at school and made their way into the courtyard, you were greeting a few other students at the gate. Din usually didn’t linger in the mornings, lest he be late for work. But sometimes, like today, he stayed and watched you walk Grogu to the classroom by the hand.
The sight of you both together always made his heart swell.
He wanted so badly to see that more often.
~~~~
There were a few big projects waiting for Din when he got to work, including a speeder engine, an R5 unit, and an old beat-up ship, all of which were in desperate need of repair. In some ways, the old ship reminded him of the Crest.
He took each job in stride, starting with the R5 unit and ensuring each little piece was going exactly where it needed to. Before he worked at this little shop, he only knew how to break droids; it was a strange change of pace learning how to repair them.
Strange, yet somewhat welcomed. If he kept this up, he reasoned, maybe one day he’ll be able to reprogram a droid the same way Kuiil reprogrammed IG-11.
After a couple hours he put the final circuit pieces in place and closed up the unit, backing away to see if it would come to life.
A few tense moments passed before the little bulbs on its head began to glow, and it released a few cheery beeps. Din chuckled and gave the droid a little pat.
“Glad that actually worked. Looks like you’re good to go.”
R5 twirled around and beeped before following Din to the front of the shop.
As the day went on Din’s mind wandered while he worked. He wondered what time Fennec and Boba would be home that night, if he should make enough dinner for all four of them. He started running through different options in his head. Maybe he’d let Grogu decide what to have this time.
When the afternoon rolled by, he’d completed every project aside from the ship. He clocked out with some of his coworkers and made his way out of the workshop.
“You coming out with us tonight, Mando?” one of them asked.
“Can’t. Gotta be home for my kid today.”
And that was true this time. He’d gone out with the folks from work a few more times since that night with you. Even though he didn’t hate it the way he always figured he would, he’d never admit it to anyone. Especially not Boba or Fennec.
But maybe you.
He mounted his speeder bike and sped off towards the school, the anticipation of seeing Grogu’s face immediately calming his busy mind and refocusing his attention.
~~~~
The courtyard was alive with the usual hustle and bustle that came with the end of a school day. Families littered the space, waiting for their young ones to emerge from the gate. Din stood in his usual place, arms crossed over his chest, a silent beacon among the scattered noise.
The week was nearing its end; snippets of nearby conversations being had by other families revealed various weekend plans and excitement for a chance to relax. Din tapped his foot against the pavement and contemplated what he and Grogu might do over that time.
When you came into view with the children on your heels, a familiar weight settled in Din’s chest — a reminder of the space you’d created for yourself there.
These weeks without you felt as though a black hole had opened up around his being, stalking him like a phantom through each of his days. Grogu would tell him about his time at school and all the things you taught him, and it reminded Din of everything you might lose.
Because of him.
It was no secret how much you valued your work. Seeing you with the kids was an ever-present reminder that you truly belonged in this role. Din’s mind wandered back to the field trip, and to Open House: the few times he was able to see you in your full teaching element. The students adored you just as much as you did them.
And despite the fact that you were making a difference in their lives, you stayed humble, always thinking about how they helped you grow instead. Hearing you talk about it made Din’s heart melt every time. Seeing you now, sending the children off with your signature smile and accompanying gesture had his heart swelling all over again.
He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if his actions caused you to lose all that. Though even then, he’d be lying if he said he regretted anything.
Meeting you was like stepping into a clear opening after being lost in the forest: refreshing, freeing, healing. The next step towards finding one’s way home again. And each moment spent with you made him feel like he was getting closer and closer to that destination.
In many ways you helped him remember what peace felt like among the violence of the galaxy. And as selfish as it was, he wouldn’t trade that in for anything.
“Excuse me, sir?”
A familiar voice from Din’s left broke him out of his daze. He turned to find Li’s mother standing beside him, her hesitant hand reaching his way.
He took a deep breath. Despite settling the little dispute, this woman wasn’t someone he wanted to speak with.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
“I just wanted to tell you something,” she started, pausing to straighten her posture and look up into his visor. “I felt like my apology at the Open House wasn’t that sincere, so I wanted to formally tell you that I’m very sorry for how I treated the whole situation.”
Din’s brow shot up. He tilted his head to the side with a nod, urging her to continue.
“It wasn’t fair of me to lump Grogu into our own troubles. He’s a very sweet child.”
“He is,” Din said, dropping his hands to his sides. “Thank you.”
She nodded and looked down at the ground.
“You know, I actually spoke with another teacher that night and he didn’t seem all that thrilled when Li started talking about Grogu. He actually looked rather mad.”
“What do you mean?” Din leaned in closer, concerns proceeding to swim around his head.
“He kind of tensed up. It was strange. I had a feeling it was about the incident. I don’t remember his name for the life of me, but I felt like it was important that you knew about it.”
“Can you remember what he looked like?”
She took a second to think before looking towards the school gates.
“Oh, it was that man there. In the back.”
Din followed her pointing finger, which extended past the gate where the classes were parting ways to reveal a figure walking down the open hallway: shoulders stooped, hands in his pockets.
Din’s hands clenched into tight fists. That had to be the guy. The one responsible for the false report, the one who came after you and his son.
The one who needed to be taught a lesson.
In a flash, the world around Din disappeared. The sounds, the people, even you. All he could see was red.
Before he could think his feet were moving. The vague call from Li’s mother fell short of his ears. His eyes were locked on his target. He stomped his way across the courtyard, gaze unmoving from the man’s figure.
As his image grew closer and closer, a sudden pressure against Din’s shoulder grabbed his attention.
You were at his side, facing him with a hand firmly pressed against the fabric poking out beside his pauldron. Your eyes spoke for themselves: concern, understanding, and caution. You took a breath and slowly shook your head.
Your expression seemed to whisper at him, cutting through his sudden rage with a scary lack of resistance. ‘It’s not worth it,’ it said.
And it was right.
Din took a deep breath and looked around. Thankfully not many eyes were looking his way.
“I’m sorry.”
A raspy whisper. It was all he could manage as guilt ate at his throat, his anger ebbing into a poking frustration in the pit of his stomach.
You smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze before letting go. The weight of its sudden absence poked at Din’s heart.
“I understand, trust me. I’d love to sock him in the face, too.”
The playfulness in your tone got him to release a small chuckle. Grogu ran up to him with concern in his big brown eyes.
“Are you okay, Papa?”
“I’m fine, pal,” Din said as he scooped up the little bundle. “Don’t worry.”
~~~~
The waxing hours of the morning cloaked the house in a dim grey light, the sun only just beginning to peek out from under the horizon. Din drank his caf and watched the clouds pass through the window from his seat at the dining table.
It had been so long since he’d been awake to see a sunrise, let alone be able to sit and watch. Life on this planet was quiet and calm, two things Din wasn’t accustomed to living with just yet. They lingered like nosy neighbors in his everyday, and months later he still didn’t know what to say to get them to leave him alone.
“You’re up early.”
Din turned to see Fennec standing in the doorway. He shrugged and returned his attention to the window.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Any reason?”
He shrugged again.
“Just thinking.”
“What about?” she asked, taking a seat beside him.
Din didn’t answer right away. The past months ran through his mind, each memory revealing new opportunities and challenges that he was still adapting to. The calm lifestyle aside, he wasn’t used to this level of friendliness. With few exceptions, the folks he’d met here treated him with kindness and respect without expecting anything in return.
Trust was hard to come by in this galaxy. But it flowed like a steady river in the hearts of these citizens. And an ocean of it existed within you alone.
“A lot has changed since we got here,” Din said after a moment. “It’s been a weird adjustment.”
“Yeah,” Fennec breathed, “It’s still strange to not be looking over your shoulder with every step. Though it’s also nice.”
He nodded. A few more moments of comfortable silence passed.
“How’s the new job been going?”
“Fine,” Fennec said, “though it’s weird testing weapons for a planet like this. I feel like they’d never actually use them.”
“You’re probably right,” Din said with a chuckle. “It’s nice that they’re still prepared, though.”
The two of them made some more small talk, little beats of silence cushioning each topic, before Fennec dug deeper.
“You don’t have to hide it, Mando. You miss her, don’t you?”
Din took a deep breath and a big sip of his caf, contemplating how to word his response.
“It’s okay. Not being able to talk to her or spend any time with her after constantly doing that is bound to be hard.”
“I mean,” Din started, pausing to think through his words. “In the end I’m fine with waiting. That’s not a problem for me. I’m just-” he sighed.
“I can’t help worrying.”
He fell silent and took another swig of his caf, turning to face Fennec before speaking again.
“Everything’s going well for us here. We settled down, we all got jobs, Grogu’s doing great in school. And all of that is still true. But there’s still a lot we don’t know. A lot that feels like it’s missing.”
“That’s because something is missing. We just didn’t realize that until we found her.”
Din’s brow scrunched together as he turned away from her, his expression betraying how perfect the description was. You fit right into their little family with ease, as if you were always meant to be there.
“And that’s okay, too. Don’t be afraid to let her in.”
“I’m not,” he countered, waving a hand. “Not at all. Quite the contrary, actually. I guess I’m just wondering how many more changes will happen. If they’ll be good or bad.”
Fennec nodded.
Din’s mind began to race, possible scenarios playing out in his mind. How would you react if you lost your job because of that report? He wouldn’t blame you if you ended things with him then. But how in the world would he tell Grogu?
And in the event that happens, what sort of stunt would Bo try to pull? While Din knew better than to worry about that, he still had a feeling his usual methods of dealing with such nuisances wouldn’t be appreciated or allowed on a planet like this one.
Then there was the slim chance. The one where everything somehow worked out and you would still want to be with him. Even that scenario had Din concerned. He was still adjusting to the new creed he’d created for himself; taking off his helmet in front of you and looking into your eyes with his own would be difficult, no matter how much he genuinely wanted to do it.
He sighed. Too many questions crowded his brain. He gulped down the rest of his caf and stared out the window again.
“Don’t torture yourself, man,” Fennec stood and clapped him on the back. “What’s done is done, and we’ll take it in stride. It’ll be fine.”
He looked up and gave her a small nod.
“Thank you.”
~~~~
“Again, again!”
Din laughed and picked Grogu up, lightly tossing him into the air before catching him again. Grogu erupted into a giggling fit and snuggled into Din’s chest.
“Okay, new game now. Papa’s arms are tired.”
Din set Grogu down and he immediately reached for another toy.
The two of them were playing in Din’s office after having hung up some more of Grogu’s art on the wall. They both took a seat on the floor and Din let Grogu run the show.
“Grogu,” Din said, “how do you feel about the last week of school? It’s coming up fast.”
“I’m excited,” he said, ears perking up. “Miss said the last day was gonna have lots of games!”
Din smiled, recalling the message you’d sent about Field Day.
“But… will I get to see my friends after?”
Grogu’s gaze grew wide, his bright eyes brimming with preconceived sadness.
“Of course you will,” Din scooted closer and patted his head. “You can play with them over your vacation time. And then you’ll see them every day in a few months when school starts again.”
Grogu grinned. After a moment, his expression became contemplative.
“Papa, why haven’t you told Miss that you love her yet?”
Din’s eyes bulged from his head. Where was this question coming from?
“You do, don’t you? You should tell her!”
Din’s jaw hung loose while his brain tried to catch up and form words, all his muscles going stiff. He couldn’t lie to his son and say that wasn’t true, but with all the other variables in play he wasn’t sure how to address the topic.
“Um, you see, Grogu-” his breath caught in his throat, making him gulp before he could continue. “She’s still your teacher, so I can’t be saying anything like that to her. It’s against the rules.”
Grogu’s brow furrowed. He almost looked angry with how his eyes narrowed downward. Din bit back a chuckle; he was too cute.
“When have rules ever stopped you from doing what you wanted?”
Din sighed. This kid knew him too well.
“Well, before, I would only do it if I knew I could protect you, or if doing it only hurt me. But this time breaking the rules would hurt her, too.”
“Oh,” Grogu said, dragging out the word. “We don’t want that.”
“Exactly.”
That seemed to appease him; he dropped the subject and went back to his toys. Din tossed a ball around with him for a few minutes before Grogu let out a gasp and his expression turned into one of sudden shock.
“I forgot!!”
“What, what is it?” Din asked, leaning over to get closer to him.
“I forgot to give Miss the picture!”
Confusion took over Din’s brain as he watched Grogu waddle out of the room as fast as he could. When he returned, there was a folded paper held tightly in his hands.
“I was gonna give her this when she got better, but I forgot.”
He handed it to Din, who slowly unfolded it.
The image had his heart melting.
Grogu had drawn himself between you and Din, a background of colorful stars surrounding you all. But unlike most of his drawings, Grogu depicted Din’s smiling face rather than his helmet.
Din grinned at Grogu.
“This looks amazing, I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“I’m gonna give it to her tomorrow!”
“Actually,” Din started softly, “could we wait a little longer? Miss hasn’t seen my face yet.”
“Really?” Grogu asked, face betraying his deep confusion. “But you slept over at her house.”
“I kept my helmet on.”
“The whole time?”
“That’s right.”
Grogu looked down in contemplation before tapping Din’s arm.
“You’re funny, Papa.”
Din laughed and scratched Grogu’s head.
“So is it okay if we wait?”
“Yes,” Grogu said, bringing one of his little hands to his chin. “But can you keep the picture for me? I don’t wanna give it to her too soon on accident.”
Din chuckled.
“Sure, pal.”
The two of them went back to their playtime, bright rays of afternoon sunlight periodically peeking through the window and casting a yellow glow on the room.
Grogu’s bold words from earlier wouldn’t stop bouncing around Din’s mind:
‘You love her, don’t you? You should tell her!’
If only he knew how much Din wanted to.
~~~~
The last week of school was here at last.
On Monday afternoon Din was stationed at his spot in the courtyard, his fingers tapping against his gauntlet while he waited for you to arrive at the gate with the children.
It was all too relieving to consider that his time without you might be over soon. Despite not knowing what was to happen with the reports or your job, he hoped that any answer could lift a burden from both of your shoulders.
He never got tired of seeing your smiling face. When you made your way to the gate with the kids on your heels, you gave him a small wave. He fought against the urge to freeze up and offered a stiff nod in return.
As he watched you give the first few kids their hugs and high-hands, he wondered how you were faring with the school year ending. It was clear how attached you’d gotten to this group; he hoped parting with them wouldn’t add too much grief to your heart.
The families slowly thinned away until Din was the only one standing in the courtyard. He watched you give Grogu a hug before meeting him halfway and scooping him up. But instead of turning back to his speeder, he approached you.
“I just had a quick question, Miss,” he said, hand coming up to scratch at his neck.
“Of course, what can I do for you?”
Your grin coupled with your soft tone made heat flare up in Din’s cheeks, his breaths coming up shorter. Kriff, how did you keep doing this to him? And without even trying?
“So- so this is their last week, right? What exactly will it look like?”
“Well,” you started, “tomorrow will be a normal day just like today. But Wednesday’s their last day, so coupled with the early release will be the Field Day I messaged the families about. Did you receive that?”
He nodded, remembering the detailed activities in your message along with encouragement for families to attend with the children.
“Should we be bringing anything to that?”
“No,” you said with a shake of your head. “Just yourselves.”
You held his gaze, as if you could tell exactly where his eyes were sitting behind his visor. He was trapped in the beauty of your irises, which suddenly shined with a new sense of ease.
“And… that’ll be it? It’ll be over?”
Din couldn’t help the hope dripping from his voice. It was killing him that he couldn’t take your hand in his own, or glide a finger across your cheek. He had to make sure he wouldn’t have to endure this for longer than the two of you bargained for.
Your smile grew as you gave him a small nod.
“Yes, Din,” you whispered, “It’ll be over.”
His heart was moments away from bursting out of his chest. Hearing you say his name was like being struck by lightning: shocking, exhilarating, rocking him to his core. He missed how it sounded coming from your lips. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
“That’s good. Thank you.”
“Certainly,” you said with a nod. “I’m looking forward to seeing you there, hopefully with Fennec and Boba as well.”
“Oh, they’re definitely coming,” he said with a chuckle, recalling the excitement in their eyes when he told them about Field Day. “They both immediately called out of work and talked through all the activities with Grogu.”
You laughed, your face radiant under the light of the afternoon sun, yet a tint of sadness still rang through it.
Din wished he could kiss it away.
“Tell them I say hi,” you said.
He gulped down the lump in his throat. Something about your expression told him there was something you were holding back. Words? Actions? Pain? He wasn’t sure.
But he wanted to see it.
Two more days, he reminded himself. He’ll see it in two more days.
“I will,” he breathed.
When he and Grogu turned to leave, Grogu tilted his little head to look back at you.
“Bye Miss! I love you!”
“Love you too bud, I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Once Din reached his speeder and set Grogu up in the seat, Grogu reached for his hand and looked into his visor.
“I think she loves you too, Papa.”
Din sucked in a breath and patted Grogu’s head before settling in the front seat, mentally squashing down the thoughts that threatened to emerge from that statement.
‘Let’s not get my hopes up just yet, kid.’
****
OLAT taglist: @dincrypt @anrimdjarin @kodye1018 @persie33 @janebby @allmahfeels @onomatopoetic-aesthetic @queen-since-97 @tobealostwanderer @darlingotaku @fangirlalexia @justdrawings101 @onebrownoneblue @440mxs-wife @what-iwish-you-knew @mylittlesenaar
perm taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @christina-loves @literallydontlook @the-little-ewok @salome-c @dessinemoiunehistoire
89 notes · View notes
allisondraste · 3 years ago
Text
What Sisters Are For
Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy
Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Words: 4383
Story Summary: Solana (Vakarian) hasn't heard from that dumbass brother of hers in months, but leave it to Garrus Vakarian to show up at her doorstep just when she is convinced he's dead. With Commander Shepard in tow at that.
[AO3 Link]
Solana had not heard from that dumbass brother of hers in over two weeks. Sixteen days and ten hours if she were counting…which she was. She’d been compulsively checking their chat logs since the last time they’d spoken. She’d gotten pissed at him for running off to who knows where doing who knows what while Mom’s health was declining.  She accused him of not caring, of not being there for the family when they needed him most. It was a stupid fight to try to pick, and Garrus didn’t even argue with her.
“I know, Sol,” his message read, “I’m sorry.”
It was entirely out of character for her brother.  Every other time they’d fought about his absence, he had a thousand and one excuses. First it was overtime at the C-Sec position, then it was following that human spectre, Shepard, to fight Saren and the Geth, then it was C-Sec again, then Spectre training, and finally he’d dropped it all for some mercenary contract out in the Terminus Systems.
Garrus had stopped calling not long after he’d taken the Terminus job.  He and Dad had gotten into a huge argument about his “obsession with recklessness and rebellion” and “immature, selfish behavior” over vid comm that ended in Garrus hanging up rather abruptly.  He hadn’t called again for a long time after that— six months, maybe— and that was only because he was in trouble and wanted to say goodbye. Their dad had refused to hear it and told him to finish up his target practice and come home when he could.
Solana knew he wouldn’t, though.  Garrus had become an expert at running away from any problem he couldn’t shoot ever since Commander Shepard died two years prior.  Even more so since mom’s condition started to deteriorate. It was easier to harass a bunch of criminals on Omega than to face his grief. She hated that he refused to lean on his family for support. She hated even more that she no longer felt like she could lean on him.  Not only was she losing her mom, she was losing her big brother, too. Dad was trying, Spirits help him, but he was barely holding himself together as it was. He needed Garrus there as much as she did.
She refreshed their last chat log for approximately the one-thousandth time in the past sixteen days and ten hours since his last message came through, wondering if that might be the last time she’d ever hear from him. Suddenly, she wished she’d said so much more and so much less all at the same time.
The comm buzzed, shaking Solana out of her thoughts.  For a brief moment she let herself hope that this call could be from her brother, that his name would flash up on the screen and he’d greet her with some off the wall story as an excuse for leaving her in the dark. That hope was dashed when her father’s name popped up instead.
“Hey Dad,” she answered immediately, trying to mask the concern in her subvocals. If he made the point to call from the hospital, there was no way the news could be good.
“Solana?” For a man that was always ten steps ahead and prepared for everything, there was so much uncertainty in his voice.
“Yeah? What’s up?
A deep breath, then he asked, “Any word from Garrus?”
“No.” Her answer came out with a bite. “Why?”
“I—Well….” Her father let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure.  This new team of doctors just came in to look at your mother. Salarians.”
“Okay?” Solana wasn’t sure why some salarians doing typical salarian things was relevant to a conversation about Garrus.
“Special Tasks Group Salarians,” he continued, adding weight to each of his words as if they’d make his point any more clear.
“Did Garrus join the STG or something?” She joked. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him or anything, but I didn’t realize they were open to turian operatives. Or that he was smart enough even if they did.”
“Solana please,” he scolded. “This is important.”
“I’m sorry.  I just don’t see how some random doctors showing up to examine mom has anything to do with my stupid brother.”
“If you would listen, I’m—“
“Okay, okay. I am listening.” She paused for a beat. “Intently.”
“These doctors claimed their higher ups received some sort of non-traditional contribution from an anonymous donor whose only request was that they use their resources to attempt some experimental treatments for Corpalis Syndrome.”
“That’s an unusually specific favor to ask,” she noted dryly, “Considering how rare Corpalis is.”
“It certainly is,” he said with a sigh, “It can’t be coincidence they found your mother as well.”
“It could be Garrus,” she said, glancing down at the still-open chat log on her communicator, “He said something about paying for treatments.”
“With whose money?” Her dad snapped. “He can’t hold down a job long enough to pay for anything.”
Solana laughed, even though it stung. “Hey, G is well-connected. Maybe someone owed him a favor.”
“Maybe.” The line was quiet for a few seconds, nothing more than the faint sound of hospital equipment. Then her dad spoke again. “Well, I should go.  I want to get more information from these salarians before I sign any papers.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“And Solana?”
“Hm?”
“If you talk to your brother, tell him to come home.”
A lump formed  in her throat at her father’s emotional plea, and she forced out a response. “I will.”
When the call ended, Solana brought up the keyboard on her communicator and began to type out a message.
Hey, G.  Just… checking in.  Listen, I’m sorry about how our last conversation went.  I know you care. It’s just hard that you’re out there, when Dad and I need you here.  Please c—
She was interrupted by a beep at the door, and a wave of worry rushed over her.  It was unusual for her to have visitors at all, let alone at such a late hour.  She jumped up and hurried to the door, opening it without stopping to ask who it was.
“Garrus?!” Her voice trembled as the doors slid open to her brother’s face, burned and bruised and held together with bandages. He looked exhausted and sad, and Solana’s heart broke for him, and whatever he’d gone through.
“Hey Sol,” he said quietly, “Sorry I left you hanging.”
“What happened to you,” she asked, unable to hide the horror in her voice as she examined his mangled face, “You look like you’ve been hit by a rocket.”
He laughed, and stepped into the apartment. “Funny story, actually.”
“There’s nothing funny about that story,” said another voice from behind him.  It wasn’t one Solana had heard before, and it wasn’t Turian.
She glanced over just in time to see a human with a few scars of her own step into the room after Garrus.  Solana had never met a human in person, but this one she recognized. Her face had been in every news vid streamed out right after the geth attack on the Citadel and plastered on advertisements across the galaxy.  At least until anti-human groups on the Citadel began to gain traction.
“Commander Shepard,” Solana asked in disbelief.  Not only was she in the presence of a celebrity, she was also in the presence of someone who was supposed to be dead. “I thought you were—” “Dead?” Shepard shrugged. “It didn’t stick.”
“Shepard,” Garrus said, looking at the commander, “This is my sister, Solana. She’s the smart one in the family.”
“And what,” Shepard asked, crossing her arms, “You’re the pretty one?”
“Not anymore, he isn’t.” Solana laughed, and examined her brother’s face again.  She glanced back at the human woman. “It’s nice to finally meet you Commander.”
“Likewise.” She nodded. “And you can just call me Shepard. I mean— if you want.”
Funny, Solana thought, that the decorated war hero would sound so nervous talking to the likes of her.  She opened her mouth to invite them to have a seat, to make themselves at home, but was interrupted by another buzz from her communicator, which she’d left on the table by the couch. “Give me a sec.”
“Hello,” she said, picking up the device and walking toward the kitchen for some privacy.
“Solana, it’s me again,” came her dad’s voice. “I just left the hospital.  I thought I’d swing by your place before I headed home.  We can talk about whether or not we want to move forward with these experimental treatments.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” she answered, “I’m actually glad you called.  You’ll never believe who just showed up at my doorstep.”
“Garrus?”
“Yes, and—” she lowered her voice “Commander Shepard is with him.”
“ What? I thought Shepard was dead .”
“Apparently, it didn’t stick,” Solana recited Shepard’s explanation.
He grumbled on the other end of the line.  Ever since Garrus left C-Sec the first time, their father had blamed Shepard’s influence for encouraging his “rebellious nature.” Solana knew that wasn’t the case. It was Shepard who encouraged Garrus to go back to C-Sec after they stopped Saren and the geth.  It was Shepard who insisted he go about obtaining Spectre status in the correct way.  And it was Shepard who he actually listened to.
Her dad just didn’t want to believe that a Vakarian would turn their nose up at a comfortable career handing out citations and tracking down missing credit chits. It was easier to believe that Garrus’ behavior was due to some problematic human spectre, than to admit that he did not know his own son.
“Here I thought he’d finally come to his senses, but if that human woman is with him, then—”
“ Dad. ”
“I know, I know.  You’re right.” He sighed heavily. “He’s home.  That’s all that matters right now. I’ll be there soon.”
The line clicked off, and she made her way back to her guests, stopping abruptly in her tracks as she overheard them talking.
“Shepard,” Garrus said softly, in a tone Solana hadn’t ever heard him use.
“I’m sorry,” came Shepard’s response, “I gave Hackett my word. If I don’t go back to Earth and stand trial…”
Solana peered around the corner to see the two of them standing incredibly close together, holding hands.  Garrus bent down slightly so that his forehead touched Shepard’s.  That, she wasn’t expecting. Dad was going to lose his mind.
“If you don’t stand trial, the Batarian hegemony will start a war, and that’s the last thing the galaxy needs right now. I know.” Garrus sounded so bitter and hurt. “Damn it, I know that. Just—“
“I’ll miss you, too.”  Shepard brought one of her weird, five appendaged hands up to Garrus’ face, tracing along the edge of his bandages. “But we’ll see eachother again.”
“I’d like to believe that, Shepard, but with everything going on… it doesn’t look good.”
Unable to bear eavesdropping on their solemn goodbyes any longer, Solana cleared her throat and stepped out of the hallway.  Shepard and Garrus started and pulled away from one another at her entrance.  Garrus didn’t even pretend that he hadn’t been caught, instead making sheepish eye contact with Solana while Shepard turned to examine one of the decorative pieces on the wall and scratched the back of her head.
“Why don’t you come in, Shepard,” Solana asked, motioning toward the lounge area and sofas that had not seen company since they were purchased, “Sit for a while.”
“I’m kind of running late for my house arrest.” Shepard let out a humorless laugh, and pointed at the door. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Please, you’ve brought my brother back to us. Again.” Solana shifted her weight from one leg to another.  “I just want to get to know you a bit better.  Maybe say a proper thank you.  Anyone who’s put up with Garrus as much as you have deserves a medal.”
“Ouch,” Garrus chimed in. “True, but ouch .”
A few seconds of silence passed in which her brother and Shepard exchanged a look that carried an entire conversation she couldn’t understand.  Then, he said, “Stay. Just for a couple of hours.”
“Okay,” Shepard answered almost immediately with a nod, green eyes glistening.  “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
Shepard was truly an extraordinary individual, every bit of the legend the news vids— and Garrus’ stories—made her out to be. Maybe even more. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who had survived circumstances that would have broken most, but with the humility of someone who believed she had just gotten by on grit and dumb luck.  She was a hero—the real deal—and Solana could certainly understand why Garrus held her in such high esteem. She would have to tease him later about how completely, totally, fringe-over-spurs in love with his commander he was.  For now, she just let him talk.
She’d never seen her brother in quite such a state as he recounted the course of his life for the past few months.  He periodically shot glances at Shepard, who nodded along in support.  He detailed his time on Omega as “Archangel,” about the team he put together and the betrayal that nearly cost him everything. Pain and guilt resonated in every word about his solitary stand against a relentless onslaught.  His eyes lit up as he mentioned Shepard’s serendipitous arrival, cloaked amid a stampede of cannon fodder recruits the merc gangs threw at him.  She’d shown up right on time, and still hadn’t been able to stop the gun ship that launched a rocket right into his face.  And he had the audacity to joke about his scars.
“Spirits, Garrus,” Solana exclaimed, “You’re lucky to be alive.  This is what Dad and I kept trying to tell you.  Keep pulling stunts like that and you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Eh,” he replied with an infuriating shrug, “I’m hard to kill.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped, suddenly very aware of Shepard’s eyes lingering on the both of them.  “The only reason you’re not decomposing in a pool of your own blood in some boarded up apartment building on Omega is because Shepard came back from the dead and dragged your ass out of there..”
“I know.”
“You know one of these days you won’t be so—“ she began but paused when his words registered in her mind— “Wait, you what? ”
“I know,” Garrus repeated himself, “Better than anyone. Believe me.”
“Well…” Solana trailed off, unsure what to say in lieu of the lecture she had prepared. “Good.”
Garrus glanced away from her and fidgeted nervously before bringing his gaze back to meet hers.  “Listen, Sol.  I’m… I’m sorry.”
“For?”  She crossed her arms.
“Everything,” he sighed, “For leaving how I did, for being so distant when you and dad needed me.  I just —”
“You were just busy saving the galaxy again?” She laughed. She wanted to be angry with him, to let him know just how much of a headache he’d caused her, but she couldn’t.
“Something like that.”
There was a heavy silence and then Solana spoke again.  “You know, Dad said some salarian doctors showed up with some experimental treatments to try out on Mom.”
“They did?”
“Apparently they had a contribution from an anonymous donor who was really concerned with Corpalis Syndrome.”
“Some coincidence, huh,” he said with an amused flare of his mandible.
She glared at her brother for a long moment, then prepared to ask him what he’d done, but stopped when Shepard stepped forward.  Solana hadn’t spent enough time around humans to read their facial expressions, but her head was tilted, eyebrows pressed together.
“I’m sorry, but what is Corpalis Syndrome?”
Garrus looked at Shepard nervously then back at Solana.  He hadn’t told her .  For all the admiration he held for the commander, and as much as he seemed to trust and rely on her, he hadn’t brought up their mother’s illness, the fact that she was dying.
“It’s a rare degenerative neurological disease that only affects turians,” Solana explained, “It makes people lose their memories and ability to take care of themselves.”
“And your mother has it?”  Though she was responding to Solana, Shepard looked directly at Garrus.
“She does,” Solana said somberly, “We’ve known about it for a couple of years now, but it’s progressed really fast. She’s—”
“Why didn’t you tell me,” Shepard asked, definitely addressing Garrus this time.
Garrus shrugged and let out a heavy sigh. “You had more important things to worry about.”
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have—“ She shook her head as if it would force away her emotions.  “You should have been here.”
“You needed me.  Besides, the Collectors were something I could actually do something about.  All I could have done here was watch Mom d— “ Garrus stopped and shook his head to compose himself.  “The last time I saw her, Shepard, she didn’t even know who I was.”
Shepard’s eyes lingered on Garrus intently, watching him struggle with difficult emotions. Once again, Solana felt like she was witnessing something that should have been private, as Shepard leaned forward to place her hand over Garrus’.  He turned to face her, looking down at their hands before taking hers in his and giving it a squeeze.
“I’m sorry,” Shepard said to Garrus first, but then she looked at Solana to extend the apology, “I can’t even imagine.”
Just then, the front door slid open with a hiss.  Garrus stiffened and let go of Shepard’s hand,  standing up abruptly to face the door just as their dad entered the room.  He didn’t stand as tall as he used to, or carry himself with as much authority.  Watching the love of his life slowly slip from his grasp had eroded his proud exterior to the degree that someone who hadn’t seen him in a while might not even recognize him.
“Dad,” Garrus said with no small amount of apprehension.
“Hi, Son,” came their dad’s somber answer, as he entered the room and approached Garrus.  He placed a hand on Garrus’ shoulder and looked at him squarely, examining the healing remains of burns and lacerations on his face. “It’s good to see you.”
“I— Yeah, it’s…um,” Garrus stammered, as if he’d expected a different greeting. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Solana let out the breath she’d been holding, relieved that her dad had taken her advice and not led with a lecture.  She didn’t think she had it in her to sit through one of their typical father-son disputes, not now.
“Dad,” Garrus said, motioning toward the couch where Shepard still sat, “This is Commander Shepard.”
Shepard rose to her feet, and straightened up her posture in that formal way all soldiers did. “Sir.”
“Shepard, this is my dad.”
“Castis,” he said, offering Shepard a handshake. “I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting a dead woman before.”
Shepard laughed. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“There certainly is.”  Her dad let go of Shepard’s hand and then glanced in between the human woman and Garrus for several seconds.  “Garrus speaks very highly of you.  Sometimes I think it might be a little too highly.”
“Dad,” Garrus snapped.
“Seriously,” Shepard asked with a quirk of her eyebrow, “I keep telling him he can’t keep putting me up on a pedestal like that. I’m clumsy… and scared of heights.”
“Ha!”  To Solana’s surprise, her dad seemed genuinely amused by the retort. “Can’t tell the boy anything, can you?”
“No, but when you work with me, having a hard head comes in handy.  Reduces the risk of concussions.”
Shepard smirked, shrugged and glanced at Garrus who let out a groan. “I’m just going to go… bury my hard, hard head in the sand.”
There was a brief moment of quiet, then a loud beeping noise rang out across the room.  An orange light flashed on Shepard’s left forearm, her omni-tool comm device.  Her eyes widened as she looked at the display screen.
Motioning toward the hallway with her thumb, she said, “I, um. I’m need to take this.”
Solana and her father nodded, but Garrus seemed worried.  He moved closer to Shepard and placed a hand on her shoulder, and asked, “Is everything alright?”
Their dad’s mandibles twitched at the gesture, and he looked at Solana with a stunned expression.  If he hadn’t suspected that there was something going on with those two already, he certainly did now.
“I’m not sure,” Shepard said, and then turned to step out into the hallway.
Garrus watched as she walked out and waited for the door to close behind her before he turned around.  Their dad crossed his arms and stared at him expectantly, waiting to the answer for a question he hadn’t asked.  Solana’s chest tightened.  They’d been so close to a seamless reunion.
“What,” Garrus asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Is it standard protocol on a human ship to be so informal with one’s commanding officer?”
“Informal? What are you—“ Garrus flinched as he realized what he’d just done. “Shepard’s a friend, Dad.”
“ Just a friend?”
Garrus huffed, staring down at the floor for a moment before meeting Dad’s gaze. “Honestly? No.  She’s more than that.”
“You’re infatuated with her.”
“I’m not infatuated with her. I care about her.  Big difference.”
Their dad began to speak but then seemed to think better of it, instead looking to Solana, a plea for help in his eyes.
Before she could think of something to say, Garrus spoke again. “I know that she’s human, and I know it’s going to be complicated, but… I’ve never— there’s no one— Damn it.” He paused, and kicked at the floor, struggling to collect himself.
Solana started to move toward him, but stopped when their dad approached him instead.
“I think I understand,” he said, more nurturing than Solana had ever heard him be.
“You do,” Garrus asked, clearly as stunned by their dad’s reaction as she was.
“Yes.  I can’t say that I approve, but… somehow I don’t think that would change anything.”
Garrus laughed.  “Probably not.”
Shepard returned from the hallway seconds later, stone-faced and stiff, fists clenched at her sides.  Whatever news she had just received couldn’t have been good.
“I have to go,” she said sternly, looking directly at Garrus.
“Right now?”
Shepard gave a quick nod.  “That was Hackett.”
“What did he say?” Garrus stepped over toward her.
“I’m to report to Earth immediately, and the Normandy will be impounded indefinitely until my hearing is complete.”
Garrus let out a nervous laugh. “That’s kind of what you were expecting, right?”
“The Alliance will also be monitoring my extranet correspondence,” she added,  “I won’t be allowed to send or receive messages without permission.  At least not until the trial is over.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Garrus said, shaking his head in disbelief
“I wish I was.”
“Well, I’ll figure something else out.  Carrier pigeons, maybe? Is that a thing humans still use?” His attempt at a joke was thwarted by the obvious anxiety in his voice.
Shepard smiled sadly and let out a laugh. “No, but this is probably for the best anyway.  I wouldn’t want you or anyone else to be implicated.”
“What about Hackett,” Garrus snapped, “When’s his trial? Didn’t he send you on that stupid solo mission in the first place?”
“Garrus.”
“Nevermind that you stopped the Reapers. Again.”
“Garrus,” Shepard repeated, more insistent.  She reached forward and took hold of his hands.  “It’s going to be okay.”
“You keep saying that, but things just keep getting worse,” he argued, even as he wrapped his fingers around hers.
“Just… take care of your family. Spend time with your mom.” Shepard’s words sounded so ominous without context.  “I’ll get in touch with you as soon as I can.”
“But—“
“Goodbye, Garrus.”  Shepard gave his hands a quick squeeze then looked up to glance at both Solana and her father.  “Thank you for having me.  It was nice to meet you both.”
“Likewise,” their dad said.
Solana nodded.  “Next time you visit,  I’ll make sure to have some levo-amino friendly snacks.”
“That—“ Shepard’s voice cracked.  “That sounds great.  I’m looking forward to it.”
She took a deep breath and turned to walk back out the door, but she stopped at the threshold, clearly struggling to leave.
“Shepard,” Garrus said gently, “I’ll see you soon.”
She nodded and made her way out the door, footsteps urgent and fading into the distance, leaving Garrus standing stiffly, staring at the door.  Solana and her dad exchanged glances, each waiting for him to say or do something.  Finally he turned to face them, wringing his hands.
“I know you probably have a lot of questions, but—”
“There will be time for answering them later,” their dad said, giving him a pat on the shoulder, “You should get some rest.”
“You can crash on my couch,” Solana added, “Unless you’d rather put up with Dad all night.”
“Thanks, Sol.  Maybe tomorrow I can go by the hospital and see Mom.  It’s about time, I think.”
Solana nodded, “Good idea.  I’ll come with you.”
“As will I.” Their dad stepped forward, and looked Garrus directly in the eye. “We’ll decide together on whether or not to move forward with those experimental treatments your STG friends are offering.”
“About that,” Garrus said with a nervous laugh.
“That’s one of those things we’ll talk about later,” their dad said, giving Garrus another pat on the shoulder before walking out the door.
“Why do I get the feeling that talk isn’t going to be much fun,” Garrus turned to Solana and asked once the door had closed.
“Because Dad’s not a ‘fun’ person,” she answered with a shrug, “Also, you’re a dumb ass who can’t stay out of trouble.”
“Kick me while I’m down, why don’t you,” he snapped playfully.
“That’s what sisters are for,” she replied, gave him a playful jab, and made her way to the closet to grab him some pillows and a blanket. “Kicking you while you’re down, letting you sleep on their couches, and not telling anyone that your favorite movie is Fleet and Flotilla.”
Garrus just groaned.
126 notes · View notes
sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years ago
Text
Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Revealed
Summary- 7.7k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Steve and you pack up in the Stark Jet and head across the ocean, this time to Norway. Steve seems to think that there will be the answers needed to help your friends for good. Divider made by @firefly-graphics
Warnings- None
A/N- Those that have stuck with me through this, thank you. I hope this isn’t turning into a “what the hell are you trying to do Amber” kind of deal. Haha. I don’t have any real answers, its just whats coming out. Anyways, thank you for reading, as always its so appreciated to hear what your thoughts are on it. Happy Howling 🐺💙
Chapter Three / Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was a rush the following morning, Steve and Tony were busy checking over the jet being loaned for the mission. Meanwhile Pepper showed you around the giant Stark Towers. The last time you had been here you were unconscious, not remembering any of it. Pepper’s heels clicking against linoleum, while you rushed after the fast paced Alpha who was doing two tasks at once. But once she led you on the elevator, hitting some buttons, she tucked her tablet under her arm, turning her attention to you with a relaxed smile. 
“Dr. Banner has been wanting to officially meet you.” She stated as an explanation for the elevator ride. Twiddling your fingers, you shuffled foot to foot a bit nervous, only knowing the doctor had been where Steve rushed you to first when Pierce injected you. 
When the elevator door dinged and the two of you stepped out to what looked like a medical wing. A dark haired man stepped out while flipping through a chart muttering to himself when Pepper cleared her throat. “Bruce, you have a visitor.” His head lifted, blinking at them from over his glasses frames, confused as to who would want to intrude on him. But then recognition crossed his features and he snapped his clipboard shut, striding over. 
“Y/N! Pepper told me Steve was coming back this way for help, and I was hoping he would bring you.” His hand popped out to shake yours. You welcomed it with a tilt of your head, drawing in his scent. A part of you recognized him, the hint of warmth and freshness. 
“ Dr.Banner a pleasure… Steve told me what you had done for me, thank you for everything.” 
Bruce sputtered a bit, giving a shrug. “Ahh, I wasn’t able to do much, just send you along to someone better able to handle what happened to you. Umm, do you have a few minutes? I just really would like to ask you a few questions about your experience. If you are okay with that of course.” He added almost shyly and you smiled reassuringly. 
“I have no problem with that Dr.Banner.” 
“Bruce please.” Bruce looked expectantly at Pepper who checked her watch and nodded. 
“We got time, Tony will have Friday call for us when the jet is ready.” Bruce immediately turned on his heels and led the two of you towards his office. 
Tumblr media
Steve went through the jet, checking all the gear stashed on board as well as settling in the controls chair to make sure he was familiar with everything before leaving Stark towers. Tony plopped in the one next to him, making the Alpha in Steve rumble at the intrusion but Steve was able to placate him. 
“So off to Norway huh?” Tony leaned forward to enter the coordinates in the dash for the autopilot. “What's in Norway that can help you with everything?” 
Steve growled as he continued going over the controls. “You saw the file Fury sent along Stark. You know exactly who is there.” 
“Okay you got me.” Tony finished what he was doing and turned the chair to face Steve. “I also know he's basically a recluse now and the chance of you getting him to talk is almost nada, zip, zilch. What makes you think he's gonna spill what you need.” 
“I have my ways…” Steve said coldly, his wolf growling softly at the other Alpha in his space. 
Tony gave a mock shiver. “Alright alright… just be careful okay? I know we're not on the best terms Steve but I do have a lot of respect for what you are trying to do.” 
Steve arched a brow and shook his head. “We’re not enemies Tony, I don’t happen to agree or appreciate that stunt you pulled with Ross. But I think now my stance on that shit is known. We can disagree and still be fine.” Tony next to him brushed it off while continuing with the switches, making his own adjustments to the system. 
“I know Steve, it was still a shitty move on my part, bringing Ross into your home, where your mate was after everything that happened. But she certainly put me in my place.” He laughed, recalling how you kicked all of them out.
Steve glanced at Tony from the corner of his eye and rumbled out a “Thank you Stark, Y/N certainly isn't taking anyone's shit, not anymore.” Tony snorted in agreement to that statement. 
“I don’t think they ever do, Pepper is the same damn way.” 
Steve laughed in return, knowing full well that everything Tony said was accurate about Pepper Potts, Tony had chosen well for himself in Steve’s opinion. For all the tension between Steve and Tony, he respected the Alpha next to him, and knew that finding his packmates was just as important to Tony as it was to Steve. Not to mention finding those responsible for Happy’s murder. Steve turned his chair to face the other Alpha. “I’m sorry about what happened to Happy Tony. I know it’s hard to have lost someone who was family to you.” 
Tony blinked at him, warring with his own feelings about everything that happened. Losing Happy so brutally had taken a toll on Tony, finding the body having been dumped just outside of his territory, he still hadn’t been able to fully come to terms with it. “Thank you. Finding the bastards who did that has become my main priority.” Clapping his hands together to end the topic, he moved to a stand. “You Rogers are ready to go, ready to Captain my jet?” 
Steve waited till Tony moved out of his space before moving to follow him off the jet, keeping quiet about the further mention of Tony seeking out Happy’s killer. After seeing what had happened with Bucky and the rest, he already had his own sinking suspicions as to who killed Happy and he knew Tony did as well. 
“More than ready to go.” Steve stated, coming down the steps off the jet. Tony spoke up right then. 
“Friday, let Pepper and Y/N know that Captain Rogers is ready.” That caused Steve to roll his eyes and fold his arms over his chest. 
“Seriously Tony?” 
A smirk flashed, Tony winked at him. “Come on, I think it's a fitting title for you.”
Tumblr media
Bruce was furiously writing notes while you described to him what you remembered being under due to the drug Pierce had injected you with when the AI Friday announced that the jet was ready, as well as Captain Rogers. You and Pepper quirk a confused look at one another, and she rolled her eyes with a sigh. “That's gotta be Tony’s doing I'm sure.” 
You nod in agreement, turning back to Bruce. “Looks like it's time for me to go Dr.Banner…” 
“Bruce.” He was quick to interrupt and moved to a stand to shake your hand. “Thank you so much for this.” He tapped his pad of paper where he had all the notes jotted. “I will put them in my file to share with Shuri. All this is incredibly helpful knowing more about the serum used on you.” 
Giving a vigorous shake back, you smiled genuinely at Bruce, you and your Little Wolf feeling quite relaxed with the man. “If I think of anything, I will be sure to send an email.” The Little Wolf flicked her tail in agreement, half listening while she was napping. 
“Oh! Yes please do with anything you might remember, no bit of information is too small.”   
Pepper walked out with you and joined you in the elevator. Reaching the top of Stark Towers, you both were greeted by Steve and Tony, who waited just inside the jet. As soon as you saw Steve, warmth washed over you, feeling that bond between you two hum happily, your wolves sought each other, in the moment they both were teasing each other, making your mood lift from having to leave once more. The genuine pleasure at seeing Steve melded that away, just as his own did, the wolves happiness being together melded with your own. Steve enclosed you in his arms, nuzzling the crown of your head a moment before questioning if you were all set.
“Tony Stark is funding another trip for us? I’m absolutely ready.” You joked as Steve let you go so you could turn to face Tony who scoffed at you. 
“Don’t let Cap here defile my jet please!” Tony was sure to give you his signature hug, that made Steve rumble a bit although you instead laughed and gave a bop of your shoulder. 
“No promises Stark. Pepper, thank you for showing me around your home.” Embracing her in a thank you. 
“Stay safe and bring my jet back quickly, Cap.” Tony pipped up while walking off the jet with Pepper, cackling to himself at the finger Steve threw up while the doors shut you two in. 
The Alpha muttered to himself while dropping into the pilot's seat and you were quick to join him on the opposite side. You buckled in while he flicked on buttons. “Captain Rogers?” you questioned watching him get the jet ready. 
Steve rolled his eyes as he made sure everything was set and handed you a headset while fitting his own on, the jet rumbling to life around you. “Tony thinks he is very slick, giving nicknames. Apparently Cap is his new one for me.” 
You smirked at him, winking as you settled the headset on and spoke into the microphone. “I think Captain Rogers has its benefits, Steve.” 
His hand went around the handle and started to push it forward, edging the jet forward to take off, the spanse of New York City below you. Much like the night before, you marveled at the beauty only a city could offer. “You would Little One.” 
A voice piped up over the channel, Tony coming over the comms. “I think your mate has a point Cap.” 
Steve growled into the comm for a second while you started laughing in the seat next to him. “Tony! Get off this channel.” 
“It's my jet, Rogers! I will listen in if I want.” He was about to continue when Steve took off his headset, setting the jet on autopilot with the coordinates. 
You snickered into the system. “Sorry Tony, Steve is cutting you off. Bye Stark.” You effectively cut Tony off and slipped the head set off, setting it aside while you leaned forward to get a better look out the window, unbuckling in the process. “You know since I have been with you Steve, I have seen things I never thought I would. Look at this.” You directed your gaze at the expanse of the sky before you, baby blue as far as the eye could see, the skyline rushing closer till the two of you crossed over the cities edged, now nothing but the Atlantic underneath you. “Beautiful.” 
Steve settled back to admire what you were looking at, letting some of his worries sink to the back of his mind. “It is… sometimes I forget you haven't seen all this before.” He held out his arm for you to join him, which you pushed from your seat and settled in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Do you remember much from the last time I showed you?” 
You perch on his knee and look over the dash, worrying your lip. “Mmh barely.” Your eyes roved over the panels while Steve dragged the tip of his nose along the curve of your neck, inhaling against it and letting it settle him further. Both the man and Alpha wanted to enjoy the long flight with you. 
“I guess we will be getting a crash course, Little One.” He rumbled happily while you seated yourself into a more comfortable position in his lap. 
You looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes laughing at his remark and bringing the exact response he wanted. “Really Captain?” 
Tightening his arm around your waist, he nipped at your lips with teasing affection. “Tony isn't the only funny one around here.” 
Tumblr media
Steve spent a few hours describing the functions and some of how to fly. Together you both got to watch the sun going down and eventually you started napping in the copilot's seat, even though Steve tried to get you to go lay down in the back. 
These quiet moments, Steve wandered back to his memories, the Alpha in his mind lifting his head from the Little Wolf’s back where he had laid to rest, flicking his ears back and forth a bit at Steve’s thoughts. 
The first thing that came to memory was the stinging scent of smoke.
“Rogers, don't you dare go into that building!” Fury’s voice commanded Steve who stalled in the doorway, peering into Hydras base, nose flaring trying to catch scent of their missing comrades. “You are not commander in this mission.” 
“But Buck and the rest might be in there… I'm going” Steve defied Fury, darting into the darkness and out of sight, Fury's voice echoing behind him. 
“ROGERS! GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT HERE!” 
Steve continued forward, letting his Wolf out enough to sharpen his senses. His eyes picking up the bit of light in the darkened hallways leading deeper into the compound, his eyes glimmer dangerously in the dark looking for any sign of movement. He could sense others nearby, friend or foe though he was unsure. Footsteps silent, Steve once in a while looking behind him tense to make sure no one knew he was there. Glances in rooms showed them abandoned, cleared in a haste to get out before Shield got there Steve was sure. Ahead he heard scuffles and growls, chains clanking and the sound of voices in hushed tones. The Wolf lowered to his belly, quivering in anticipation should Steve allow him to take over. He eased the door open with a creak when relief washed over him. 
There men, most of them in large cages. Familiar scents washed over him and they all perked sensing Steve. 
“Rogers is that you?” Someone muttered while Steve approached, searching for a key anywhere in a nearby desk. 
“Yes, the rest of the troop is just outside. We haven't found anyone though. Where is everyone?” 
“Bolted man, once they heard Fury was coming they grabbed their shit and left. They didn’t have the bodies to defend this place.” Dugan responded as he pushed to the front watching while Steve searched the desk. Steve opened the last drawer, cursing as he pushed aside papers and flung them to the side. Then he was rewarded with a ring full of keys. Rushing over, the two men tried sorting through them, Steve stuffing them one by one in the locks, quick to go to the next till they found another. 
“They left us and their experiments.” Dugan continued filling Steve in while he tried to find the right keys. “Some messed up stuff, they are in the next room I think.”
The Alpha rumbled to catch Steve’s attention. <Bucky isn’t with them.> The mans head whipped up while the lock clicked finally, able to pry it open and release his packmates. 
“Where is Buck?”  
“Bucky… he was brought in there and never came back out.” another said, pointing at the door across the room.
The Alpha rumbled suddenly in an alert and Steve tensed and whipped around when an eerily sharp howl sounded through the building. Dugan pushed the door open, tensing as well. “That's one of them, their experiments.” 
Steve wrangled the keys out of the lock and started to go down the line, unlocking each cage, shifters passing him to get outside. 
“Fury, you have outcoming hostages, they are friendly, don't fire.” Steve spoke into the comm. 
“I hear you Rogers.” Came Fury’s voice in a wave of static. “Any unfriendlies?” 
“No, Dugan notified me they all bailed once they heard we were coming” Steve responded before turning to his friend. “Dugan, get the rest out of here, I’m going to keep looking.” 
His friend bared his teeth at him, bristling at the notion. “You don’t know what's back there Rogers.” 
“If I have to, I will retreat, get these men out of here. I’m not leaving anyone behind.” Steve growled back deeper, the Alpha in him asserting himself and the man backed off with a disgruntled nod. 
Waiting to make sure they were going to leave, Steve approached the door cautiously, using his senses to pick up what might be on the other side, who might be on the other side. He was praying for a miracle, because nothing but death filled his senses as he eyed the door, drawing in any scent left behind. It was all jumbled, multitudes of men and women have passed through the threshhold, making it almost impossible to pinpoint any specific person. “Well… let's see what's on the other side.” Steve shouldered through the door and a lab stretched before him, ominous equipment stretched on either side. A groan came from somewhere ahead and Steve paused till he heard it again. It was so distinct to him that the hair on the back of his neck prickled, the Alphas own fur raising as well along the ridge of his back, it was another Alpha, but this one they knew. 
“Oh thank fucking god.” Steve uttered as he rushed forward to find Bucky strapped down and Steve started pulling at the straps holding him down. Wires were strapped all over Bucky's neck and chest and stretched to attach to some equipment, Steve started yanking them off as well when finally Bucky started to come around. 
“S-Steve?” His eyes sharpened and he clutched at Steve's uniform, worried that he wasn't real. 
“It’s me Buck, we’re getting out of here.” Steve tried assuring him, keeping his voice light and calm even though he was far from that. He had never seen Bucky so scared. Suddenly the howling started again from the back of the room and both men glanced that way. 
“Whoever it is just keeps doing that.” Bucky muttered when a voice crackled in the comms. 
“In-ing” then static sounded in Steve's ear, making him wince as he pressed his hand over his ear. 
“Repeat? What was that Fury?” 
“In-oming! G-t Ou-” The building started to shake and lights started zapping and popping around them. 
“We ca-t hold hi-, Get O-” Fury yelled into the comm but Steve had to rip it out, electricity zapping through it and breaking it up too much. Bucky gripped Steve tighter, his pupils blown in his panic. 
“What the fuck is it now?!” 
“I don't know… but we gotta get out of here.” Bucky started pulling Steve towards the exit, but whatever was in the back rattled its cage with a savage snarl, and Steve couldn’t leave who ever or what ever it was behind. He stuttered to a stop, Bucky pausing at the door with a shake of his head. 
“Man, we got to go… there isn't enough time.” 
Steve’s hands dropped to his pants and felt madly for the keys he had stuffed in his pocket earlier. “We can’t leave him in there Buck.” He waved his hand. “Go, I got this.” 
Bucky cursed but held tight, refusing to leave Steve behind.  
Steve raced towards the cage to free whatever was inside, shoving the key he used before into the lock and it clicked to open. Glowering green eyes blinked at him from the shadowed part of the cage, but he couldn't make anything else out in the seconds he got the door open. Bucky was screaming his name and when he managed to get the door to swing wide, a bundle of black sprang on his chest, bared white fangs yawning open going for Steve’s throat….
“Steve- Steve?” Your voice cut through and he shook his head a bit to clear it before looking at you. 
“Sorry, I thought you were sleeping Little One.” 
“I was, but the computer started beeping on the dash.” You pointed to a blinking light and Steve leaned forward to check the system, smiling. 
“We're here and just in time to. Look” He pointed out the window at the faint purple in the skyline, the sun easing up beyond the cloud cover to turn a brilliant red and orange of dawn. When Steve took over, he started to drop the jet down. Below the clouds the land turned a deep almost emerald wild green shimmering with mist stretching like tendrils to a spiderweb over the land, still in the early morning phase of waking up. 
You weren't lying earlier when you said you saw things you had never expected. From the rainforest and safari of Wakanda to the lush greenery of Norway, you soaked it all in with awe. So long spent locked away in a room, gazing with longing at the upper windows that offered nothing more than peeks of the sky. Now you soared over the world with your Mate. Even the Little Wolf was in awe, slithering away from where the Alpha was half sleeping and prancing excitedly with joy at the adventure. The Alpha stretched out, arching his back and padded heavily after her, nuzzling her affectionately while her tail waved back and forth, unable to stay still in her excitement. 
“The Little Wolf is excited.” You told Steve and he winked at you. 
“I can feel it. What do you say we take her down?” 
Steve easily maneuvered the Stark Jet down to land in a wide open field bordering the ocean. You followed him towards the doors swinging open and already wolves appeared from the long grass with tilted heads checking out the newcomers. You sidled up to Steve’s side a moment, watching the wolves dart back out of sight in the tall grass and heard their howls break the silence, announcing their arrival. It was a welcome sound, you couldn't detect any hostility in the notes. But their songs were so different. Sounded much older, almost like a language all its own. 
Steve cupped his hand and gave a sharp “We’re here” yip, that was answered resoundingly from all around you, the pack having circled you two and remained just out of sight. His arm lowered around your shoulders and you held your breath, unsure of what to expect. A bellow came, joyful and loud as a tall blonde man, even taller than Steve stepped out, his arms opened wide in greeting. 
“Why what a surprise! Are you here for the Asgard hospitality? I didn't think anything would ever get you to leave your corner in the world.” The over sized man strode towards them rather quickly, and the closer he came the more your eyes widened. You didn't think you had seen anyone who was as bigger then Steve in stature. He clasped Steve's shoulder and directed his joyful gaze down at you. “And who is this lovely maiden you bring with you?” 
“If I could be there, trust me I would. This is my mate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Thor, the Alpha here.” Steve protectively wrapped an arm around you, even though you wore his mark for Thor to see, Alphas always had a bit of tension between them no matter how much their human counterparts tried to quell it. 
Thor though seemed unaware of such a vibe as he beamed down at you warmly. “Well Little Pup, welcome to Asgard.” He took your hand in a vigorous pump and you couldn't help but warm right up to him and his exuberant nature. “We run free and feast like we are in the halls of the Old Kings here.” He swept the both of you down the path and all around his wolves started to howl and dance in a joyful manner, playing among each other much like they were participating in the Full Moon Run. “Now Rogers does tell me what has been going on across the water? It's been a while since I've visited there.” 
“Afraid we have been having some issues.” Steve started, filling Thor in on the recent attacks, taking apart the packs and capturing the Alpha’s. The viciousness in the attacks and the destruction left behind. Thor listened patiently until Steve mentioned Hydra. That's when he paused, you and Steve having taken a few steps ahead but noticed he wasn't with you. You turned to see him glowering. 
“That's why you are here, Rogers, isn't it? Because of Hydra. He wont talk to you about it you know.” 
Steve sighed and you had a sinking feeling about the situation, not fully understanding what was going on. 
“I have to try Thor, your brother was the only one who was able to break from the collars power and the mind shit Hydra does to their victims.” 
“He barely interacts with any of us Steve, he mostly stays as his animal out there.” Thor retorted, the sky started to darken slightly and you frowned to yourself at the sudden change in atmosphere while glancing up. 
Steve sighed, letting his arms hang loose at his sides to show Thor he was no threat to him. “I know Odinson, trust me. I wouldn’t be here if there was any other way. Packs, families are all being killed off, Alphas removed. How long till you think it will be till it comes over here?” Steve pointed out and Thor’s face twisted and he looked away. 
“It won’t be like before, I won’t let it.” 
“You don't know that… Shield risked sending the Howling Commando’s over here to help your people, now I’m asking for your help. Just let me try talking to him?” 
Your heart twisted as you saw Thor try to control his emotions on his face and you reached out to touch his arm, Steve for once kept quiet, inhaling deeply to keep himself in check. “Hydra really hurt him, didn't they? If it's too much we will just leave. Right Steve?” 
“If you tell me absolutely not Thor, she’s right. We will leave right now and not bother you again.” 
Thor glanced back at you, his eyes searching yours and you could see everything he was doing was about protecting this person. You bit at your lip nervously, you knew you were invading this Alpha’s space but stepped in closer anyways. “Please let us try? We just want to save those we still have left. Our packmates are fighting a losing battle with Hydra, we don't want to lose them.” 
A sigh escaped the man and he glanced over your head to Steve. “You're lucky you have her you know… she’s softened me. Slightly.” You stepped back towards Steve, who now laid his hand around your waist, chuckling softly. 
“You really don’t know half of it, she has a gift.” You wriggled in his hold a bit but he just tightened his fingers against you. “Thank you Thor for letting us try.” 
He shrugged at you both with a shake of his head. “I'm still saying that he wont talk to you, but I will show you where he stays when he is not hunting.” 
Steve gave a nod of appreciation while you reached for his hand and gave a light squeeze. “Thank you Thor.” You gave your own sentiments. 
The man looked at the two of you a moment, his eyes falling to your linked hands and motioned across the moors. “This way…” He cupped his hands, giving another howling song and the wolves joined them, spreading around Thor, these wolves were even larger than Mountain Packs wolves, giant beasts that were moving gracefully around there Alpha. You could feel the ground beneath your footfalls vibrating from there movements, the lush grass swishing to add to the melody of it all. Above them the thunder still rumbled with strong booms that cackled with electricity but had retreated from the fierceness it had flared up earlier. 
Your Little Wolf kneaded her paws next to the Alpha, lifting her head to inhale the air around them, it spoke of a wildness she was not used to. Something feral that did not adhere to normal pack constraints. The Alpha rumbled next to her, now and then dropping his muzzle to his mate to reassure her, but the pull to shift for both of them was strong. 
You could tell Steve felt it as well, the way he angled his body close to yours in a protective manner, his hand moving from a simple hold to pressing against your hip, wrapping around you. You tilted your head up towards Steve, your confusion clouding your features. He dropped his head to press a nip to your neck, whispering softly just for you. “I will explain later.” 
Thor paused in front of a wood that looked ancient, the gnarled trees had stories to tell. Shadows played deeper beyond the edge, enticing you to wander in. Your Little Wolf huffed slightly, breaking the enchantment you had fallen into. 
<This isn't just a forest Y/N, something powerful lives here.> Her ears flattened and you could feel her unease and the Alpha’s wariness sharpening, his ears pricked forward before twisting listening. 
What is it? You questioned your Little Wolf and she whined unsure. You felt the Alpha slip away, in the same moment Steve tilted his face up, his nostrils flaring. You knew he was scenting for any kind of danger that might come from the old forest.
Next to you Thor boomed out loudly, making it echo. “Come out Loki!” You and the Little Wolf perked, hearing the woods shift and groan, shadows danced closer when a streamlined black shadow emerged to turn solid, the beast was streamlined. His size shifting to grow larger in the presence of you and Steve, a sharp pointed muzzle turned towards you and ears twitched with interest as he took you both in. You were a bit taken aback when you saw Loki, but he paused just after the forest ended and you could see the tip of his nose twitching, green eyes with almost emerald qualities glinting with the bit of light that somehow seemed to filter from the thunderous clouds still rumbling above you. 
What do we have here? An omega to Rogers? A true Omega? Oh what a prize he really does have here. I wonder if he knows… A voice tickled your senses and the Little Wolf spun in your mind, searching for the intrusion. The Alpha returned to the Little Wolf, curling around her with a growl and a laugh echoed through you, not one that belonged to you. 
“Steve…” You whined a bit and he furrowed his brow looking at you, confused as well as to what was going on, feeling you through your bond. 
“Rogers is here to talk with you Loki, come out and quit playing games Brother.” Thor folded muscular arms across his chest and the black canine shimmered an emerald green while disappearing in a wisp of shadow and a sharp yip barking out from nowhere. 
A resounding defiant No. 
Thor shook his head at Steve. “Loki won't interact with Alphas short of me Steve, not since Shield pulled him from Hydra.” 
The Little Wolf unweaved from the Alpha when she heard Thor. 
<Y/N, we’re not an Alpha. Maybe he will talk to us.> 
Steve would never allow us to go in there alone. 
<It's the only way, Loki won't talk to Steve. He's too much of a threat to him. Say something, that big Alpha doesn't seem scared that Loki will hurt us.> 
You took a deep breath and while Thor and Steve discussed other options, you turned to the men, catching there attention. “Let me go in and talk to him.” Steve immediately barked out a no, but Thor tilted his head, considering what you were saying. “I'm not an Alpha, he won't be threatened by me, right Thor?” You pressed for an answer from the man and he nodded. 
“Your Little Pup has a point, Rogers. Loki wouldn't hurt her. I will escort her inside so she’s protected the whole way.” 
Steve felt his chest expand as he drew up to his full height. “I'm not letting Y/N go in by herself, I know you trust your brother, but I don't.” His eyes flared yellow, the Alpha close to the surface with concerns of your safety. You could see that he was winding up to call all this off when you reached up to grasp his face between your palms, tilting his head to look directly at you. 
“Alpha trust me, I know I can do this.” You stressed to him, the furrow in his forehead deepening as you knew he was at war with himself. “If anything is wrong, I will call you. Let me do this.” His hands circled your wrists and you felt that war inside of him. The same one where it was ingrained in him to keep you safe at all costs. It was all right there, flooding through the bond you two shared, your confidence, his worry. Steve huffed slightly before lifting his gaze from yours.  
“Thor, give me a moment with my mate please.” Steve requested and Thor moved away, closer towards the border of his brother’s forest, his broad back turned towards the two of you while he waited. “Little One, if something happens. Loki isn't a normal wolf…” 
“I could tell that as soon as we came near here.” You let your fingers press through his beard on his cheeks and slide down to his neck, sure to rub his scent against you in the process as well as sharing calming touches. “But he has the answers we need, Alpha.” 
Steve knew you were right, but the inner battle was fierce. The Alpha wanted to protect his mate, an animalistic need to not let you go into that forest, every fiber of his being was on edge because of it. His human side knew you could do this and get the answer to save their pack mates. You were confident, he needed to trust you like you asked. 
<Don't you let her go in there with that Alpha. What is Loki going to do to stop us.> 
Loki is not all Wolf as you well know, he won't tolerate the intrusion. 
The Alpha bristled aggressively, licking his muzzle over and over nervously. <We won't be there to protect her should he turn on her.> 
But Thor will be… You know as much as I do that he wouldn't let any get hurt in his care. 
“Trust me Alpha.” Your fingers trailed along the mark you had left on him, your mark that made him belong to you. The most sacred of bonds a mated pair could share and made in the utmost trust that you two would take care of each other. 
She is asking us to trust her. If we can’t trust in our mate, then what hope do we have? Steve was firm and the Alpha had to concede to him. 
Steve moved his hands to your face, cupping the most important part of his life gently in his palms as he inhaled deeply and tipped his forehead against yours. “Little One, if anything happens, anything at all, call for me. I will come get you.” 
The corners of your mouth lifted and he saw it go to your eyes, pride and strength that your Alpha was trusting you to go in his place. “Of course Alpha.” You lifted to catch his lips, nuzzling your nose against his. “I know you will come for me if I need you.” You embraced him fiercely, Steve let his nose bury in the crown of your head and then let you go against his instincts. The Wolf rumbled, anxious as he paced watching you reach Thor. His eyes reached the other Alphas. “Thor…” 
“I understand what is at stake. No harm will come to her, I swear it.” 
You looked so tiny next to the man, your head tilted up to look at him with a warm smile and Thor's tilted down to look back at you. Steve watched the same warm smile cross Thor's face, making your mate proud of you, how easily you had already won Thor over. You had come so far from the runaway he first met and your warmth spread so easily to those around you. Maybe Loki wouldn't be immune to you. 
Tumblr media
The moment you stepped into the forest with Thor, it darkened. Looking over your shoulder, the emerald green sea of the moor was almost a picture racing away to be enclosed by old tree trunks. You licked your lips nervously and folded your arms around your body, sure to keep up with Thor. He was confident in his strides, the darkening vibrant woods was just as much home for him as the windswept open land you two left behind. 
The Little Wolf was curious in the new surroundings, pacing and keeping a keen eye on everything you were hurriedly passing by trying to keep up with Thor. 
You weren't wrong that the forest had a life all its own. It seemed to breathe around you, moss stretched across large boulders that sprang tendrils of plant life curling upwards to try and reach sunlight. Heavy thick trees were bristling against your palm and almost seemed to heave in sighs at your gentle touch. Thor glanced back at you, golden tendrils clinging to his face now and his eyes crinkled in watching you loosen from your fear into awe. 
“You feel it, right?” He chuckled and you withdrew your hand from the tree back to your body. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Its soul, the magic in it all.” He braced against a tree and inhaled deeply. “All of this is very alive as you and I, it's old and has been standing long before we claimed this as home.” 
You tentatively touched a nearby tree again, feeling tingles in your palms, making you shudder a bit. “It is certainly… like home, but not quite.” 
Thor nodded with a wink. “Still a baby over there, your packs are just starting to write the stories that will live on after you are gone. One day they will have a life of their own, just like this one.” 
Your brows quirked at his words. He's a funny man isn't he. 
Your Little Wolf curled her tail around herself as she sat down. <He is, but I like him. This place feels like we belong here.> 
There does seem to be a certain calling to be here… 
You two continued on and you risked another statement. “Loki is not like you, is he?” 
Thor shook his head. “No, he is not. But you have no need to worry Little Wolf.” He paused while he glanced around, inhaling sharply. “It's just me and Y/n, Brother, come out of hiding.” 
“I'm not hiding, I can't help that you are not a more observant Brother.” A cool voice came from above and your eyes shot up to a long legged man lounging in the branches, looking almost like he couldn't be bothered. Thor snorted impatiently and motioned towards you. 
“Y/N has some questions for you.” 
Vivid green eyes fell on you and a cool grin formed as he moved to sit up and slide down. He walked in such a predatory way, almost circling you. The Little Wolf's hackles raised at him and you hitched yourself straighter. You felt that tingle in your mind again. 
Why is it your Alpha is sending you in here for Omega? My brother is right, you are just a little pup aren’t you, so new to the world...
You snarled out loud, glaring at him. “You are not welcome in my mind, and I’m no pup.” And a quick withdrawal left you and Little Wolf alone once more. You could feel your Alphas curling warmth in your mind, even if he couldn't be with you. 
Respect crossed Loki's features and he bowed his head. “Forgive my intrusion. It's not often I'm sought out, except by Thor that is.” Thor barked out a deep bellowing laugh, clasping your shoulder. 
“You can't use your tricks on this one, she is small but fierce. Her Alpha has great respect for her.” 
Loki gave a slight sniff, his green eyes sliding over you as he remarked. “I’m afraid you are right.” 
You shrugged out of Thor’s grasp now, wanting the answers you came for. “Loki, our packmates have been collared by Hydra. Steve seems to think that you know how to break from their control. Please, is there any way to break the hold they have on them.” Loki suddenly appeared next to you, his fingers catching a lock of your hair and pressing it between his fingers for a moment as if further inspecting you. You jumped and pulled away from him, making Thor growl a warning at him. But you narrowed your gaze at him, knowing well that he was testing you. You had seen it all before while living with Pierce. “Don't touch me Loki, only Steve is allowed to. How did you do that anyways, appear next to me?” 
His fingers swirled slightly, green wisps dancing around his nimble long fingers. “Magic Dear. I'm part Coyote, a Trickster. Sure your Alpha told you?” 
You shook your head. “No… He doesn't talk much about his life in Shield.” Your Little Wolf crooned in comfort, knowing sometimes you were worried about how he would be so vague about it. 
“Well it was a dark time for the shifters.” Loki admitted and glanced at his brother. “I don't much like discussing that time either.” You clenched your jaw a moment, worried he was going to flat out refuse your requests but he dipped his head. “But for you Dear, you boldly come out here without your Alpha, that deserves to have your questions answered. Come…” He beckoned to you and led you away, Thor was not far behind. Soon a small dwelling came into view and the door yawned open, which Loki stepped in. 
Inside was different from what you were expecting. Books lined shelves upon shelves, seeming to go on forever. Plush chairs were dotted near a fireplace and wooden carvings dotted the entire area. Wood shavings littered the floor, making you smile a bit because it reminded you of your Alpha, the fresh wood scent enveloping you. The place was cozy, almost like something from a story book. Of course, this whole experience was making you feel that way, like some sort of fairytale your mother would have told you before bed. Thor heavily fell into a nearby chair, quiet as his brother waved at a seat in offering to you.   
Loki approached a shelf and whispered under his breath till a box fell into his hands. Easing it open, he pulled out a collar. Silver strands weaved together into an intricate design. “This one was mine, but it stopped working on me after a time. So it was just useless metal. Why Hydra had kept me caged when Steve found me.” He handed it to you and you were caught by surprise at how light it was. Studying it closer, you could see twists of coarse black fur wedged through it where it sat on Loki’s neck. 
“Why did it stop working?” You asked curiously and Loki settled down in one of the seats. 
“Simple, I willed for my freedom. Most of the wolves have such a strong desire to follow an Alpha. Even the Alphas themselves can be forced to follow a stronger one should they come across one. Hydra didn't know I wasn't a Wolf, not completely. I can't be controlled in the same way for long. But it's that simple in how to get your wolves back. Your Alpha has to challenge them for control. Assert that he is stronger than the one controlling them with the collars.”  
You handed his collar back to him and Loki flicked his wrist to send it back to the box, the box flashing away in the same green blaze you had seen earlier. “That's all it takes?” You asked incredulously. Loki shrugged with a nod. 
“Hydra though is led by someone who has a power that no Wolf should have. It's how they are able to control such a large and secret organization for such a long time. But such power can always be challenged.” He drifted off, looking away into the fire he had burning in the fireplace. 
You let the silence sit for a few moments before speaking up. 
“Why wouldn't you talk to Steve?” 
Loki gave a slight roll of eyes. “I don't care for Alpha’s, they always feel the need to challenge and dominate. I've dealt with that enough in my life. I choose to live on the edges of my own Pack, still a member should Thor need my assistance and the rest leave me in peace.” 
“Then why me? You seemed interested in me being an Omega.” The Little Wolf stopped her pacing for just a moment, head tilted in curiosity. 
“Because true Omegas do not need to dominate or be controlled by anyone.” Loki turned towards you, his head tilting into your direction. “You might always submit to your Alpha, but that's a choice you and your wolf make together, consciously or not. If you were to ever truly want to defy him, you easily could. It's why you were able to make me leave when I was exploring your mind.” You rolled your eyes a bit at the trickster, clearly not believing him. A life time of being made to submit to Pierce against your will and the recent incidents with Steve... you felt he had you mistaken. “ You can roll your eyes at me all you want Little Pup, but I know what I’m talking about. Omega’s can be a threat to Alpha’s or for the right one, there everything. Really depends on the Alpha they are connected to. So I like you Little Omega, you are a challenge for me.” He winked and you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile you gave to him. After all was said and done, you liked the Trickster. 
“Is there anything else you can tell me? How did you get the collar off?” You asked and Loki motioned towards Thor. 
“That was me. After Fury contacted me that Loki was with the Howling Commando’s Unit, I went to bring him home. I can provide you two with a special knife made to deal with unnatural made materials.” Loki rubbed at his face and his front door sprang open, a rush of air billowing into the dwelling. 
“Now I have answered your questions Omega, I can feel your Alpha pacing my border anxious. It's getting on my nerves. Return to him so he can settle back down.” 
You nodded, letting your senses open a bit and sure enough Steve was anxious, although far physically, you could feel him. Nodding as you approached Loki, you held out your hand to him. He eyed it a moment, and then slid his own in yours respectfully to give a shake. “Perhaps soon we will cross paths again, Little Omega.” 
“Perhaps we will Trickster.” You bid a final goodbye and now you left a bit more at ease, having the information you and Steve needed to save your family. 
198 notes · View notes
pascalpanic · 4 years ago
Text
Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)
Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.
WC: 4.6k
Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood
A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!
Tumblr media
mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.
Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.
With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over  a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere.  “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.
443 notes · View notes
gumnut-logic · 3 years ago
Text
Fabio Blue Nose
Tumblr media
Aaaargh, this was supposed to be a short, but it has demanded to be longer and I’ve run out of time. I did not want another WIP!
But anyway, here be Fabio Blue Nose, or a start of some kind at least. I hope you enjoy this random fluff so far.
Many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ and @janetm74​ for their support.
It should also be noted that no sea shanties were harmed in the creation of this fic. Nor are their any sea shanties in it, despite there being an urge to add one.
Aaaargh, it is 12.45am. I gotta go sleep, damnit.
-o-o-o-
The first time was an accident.
None of the brothers owned up to it but chances were it was Gordon, no matter how many times he swore complete innocence.
Though, come to think of it, Scott was rather more compliant than expected, so Virgil threw a little unspoken suspicion his way as well.
But anyway, it happened and it was a good thing.
There was always press at rescues that they could reach. Scott was fully aware of the importance of the media, particularly where communication and, to a certain extent, promotions were concerned. But when they got in the way of a rescue, the commander was well known to be intolerant.
This particular time, however, the press was managed by the GDF who were also onsite due to the scale of the disaster and possible sabotage, so International Rescue didn’t have to worry about them so much while they dug fifty miners out of a kilometre deep hole.
All but John were on the rescue. All but John were dirty, sweaty and ever so tired. There had been a chunk of rock that had needed demolition charges to get through, causing enough headache that even Virgil had been heard to spit profanity over comms when one of the charges misfired and nearly took his head off with shrapnel in the tunnel.
Eleven of the fifty men didn’t make it and there was some body recovery after the far too many trips it took to get them all back to the surface. In short, it had been an ugly, hard day. All the Tracys just wanted to go home and disappear into whatever distraction worked best for them.
Scott had to liaise with the GDF regarding red tape and reporting circumstances in the mine...that they should probably go down and see for themselves instead of relying on a civilian rescue organisation to do their dirty work for them. But whatever the reason, Virgil, Gordon and Alan were left to pack up and wait while all the dots and crosses were applied to appropriate Ts and Is.
It took longer than expected.
Virgil, sporting an aching shoulder, was reduced to pacing the length of Two’s open hatch. He should just take his brothers home and leave Scott to tackle the GDF.
But Scott was just as tired as they were and he had only just returned from another rescue when this callout came in. His big brother was exhausted and Virgil feared that if he left him behind they might end up a few GDF personnel short before the sun went down.
And the press were watching.
It was probably at this point the photo was taken.
It was iconic, even Virgil had to admit it. Emotive and made a statement about who they were and what they did.
The shot was from a forty-five degree angle, using a zoom lens that caught every detail of Two’s open module. Virgil stood in the middle of the ramp, paused mid-pace and staring off at something, probably Scott, in the distance. The shadow of Two in the evening light had his head in shadow, adding a heroic seriousness to his expression.
That alone was dramatic, but behind him from the camera angle, sitting on the top of the ramp to one side of the open hatch were Gordon and Alan.
Gordon had his arm around his little brother as they both stared in the same direction as Virgil. All three brothers were grimy and exhausted, Alan’s head was resting on Gordon’s shoulder.
It must have been an extraordinary lens to capture the detail because the media were fenced off a considerable distance away, but there was enough clarity to see one tear track in the dust on Alan’s face.
Their littlest brother claimed he had scratched his cheek, but they all knew better.
So, yes, this photo was taken and thrown across the planet as an illustration of three heroes of International Rescue.
There were rave reviews. Whole swaths of text praising everything their organisation did, what had been achieved that day and what had been achieved in the past. Inevitably, the history of International Rescue did the rounds again, their father’s legacy and all that. An unfortunate reminder of both the parents they had lost in the process. Being proud didn’t negate the pain that came along with it.
But due to the quirkiness of human attention, none of the above was the source of the impact the photo finally had.
It wasn’t Thunderbird Two or any of the three brothers photographed that captured most of the public’s attention.
It was a teddy bear.
Virgil kept a number of cuddly toys on Two. Some he had knitted himself, or purchased, a few were donated, but all were kept and given to children and occasionally adults, who were terrified during a rescue or evacuation and found themselves secured in Two’s module.
Perhaps the bear had fallen out of its storage, perhaps one of the brothers had shoved it aside. Whatever had happened, in the iconic photograph of three hardworking Tracy brothers, right at the back, inside the module sat a dark grey teddy bear with a blue nose and shiny eyes that caught the setting sun.
Staring right at the camera.
And the world went nuts for this bear.
It took less than a day for the fame of the teddy bear to become enough to alert Thunderbird Five and, in turn, roust Virgil out of bed - it’s lunchtime, Virgil, time enough to wake up.
Virgil’s answer to that was clear, precise and rated for adults only.
John triggered the coffee maker in the kitchen to start working its magic before his brother busted up something other than the English language.
Eventually, Virgil made it down to Two and dug out the bear responsible.
It was still sitting on top of the storage locker, which added kudos to Virgil’s flying skill.
He was going to shove it back into the locker when John asked him not to. Apparently, the bear had a following on social media.
So, Virgil picked it up and took it back up to the comms room. He placed it beside him at their father’s desk and pulled up a search screen and typed in ‘bear’ and ‘International Rescue’. He could, of course, ask John to forward him whatever his brother had obviously found, but he didn’t.
The search results that sprung up made it very clear that the world was most definitely obsessed with that bear.
There were zoomed in pictures of the inside of the module – a fact that had Virgil a little worried regarding security until he realised that anything that could possibly be compromised was just that little bit blurred. No doubt that was Eos at work. Probably snared the original photo before it could perpetuate.
But even then it was obvious that the posters had no interest in the technology. Several photos had the bear circled in red.
Various comments attempted to give reasons as to why the bear was there. The explanations were rather fantastical in the majority. A few were actually disturbing and linked Alan’s tear track to the bear – Virgil threw that bit of information at Thunderbird Five and that line of thought suddenly disappeared from the results. Some suggested the photograph was posed, a few mentioned that Thunderbird Two did carry such things and that was followed by a wave of genuine thanks and admiration for what they did…and then completely ignored when more fascinating ideas were presented.
Virgil was quite frankly amazed at what people could concoct from a photograph of a bear.
Said bear sat and stared at him the entire time. Its nose was very blue.
But ultimately the outcome that had occurred somewhere between all four brothers making it home last night and the time John dragged Virgil out of bed, Fabio Blue Nose had become a mascot for International Rescue.
Yes, ‘Fabio’.
Some inspired person had mentioned ‘F.A.B.’ as IR’s callsign and it went downhill from there.
Fabio stared at Virgil almost accusingly. His curly fur was a shade darker than Scott’s baldric and his eyes as golden as Gordon’s. His blue nose shone in the sunlight.
They had a teddy bear with a fan base, fan art and a dash of fan fiction.
Virgil caught his own name in one of them and shut it down so fast the browser crashed.
It didn’t help that an hour later Gordon found the same story and promptly paraded it around the villa for all to see and hear whether they wanted to or not. Apparently, because Virgil was the pilot of Thunderbird Two, Fabio was his crewmate.
A very heroic crewmate at that.
Could a teddy bear really rappel down a grapple like that?
He shook his head and threw a lounge cushion at his brother’s head. He really didn’t need to know.
But in any case, they now had a mascot that wasn’t Alan.
Gordon was hit in the head again for that assessment.
So, Fabio found his way to being sat on Two’s dash and accompanying them out on rescues.
The second photo was more than they had ever expected.
-o-o-o-
TBC?
44 notes · View notes
brandywine-tomatoes · 3 years ago
Text
Omega's Sixteenth
99 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!
Masterlist
Characters: The Bad Batch + Omega, Rex, Hera
Prompt/Inspo: #2 from my list: Cross teaches an older Omega how to use a rifle.
TW: blaster shots (to the armour, everyone's fine), it's just a lot of banter and family shenanigans
Word count: 1857
QUICK NOTE: just a bunch of fluff. This'll be a two or three part deal, so Cross actually teaching Omega how to use his rifle will come.
NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE CLONES
--
“Hunter, where we going?” Omega shouted ahead of the running group. Her hands were tightly gripped around the gold energy bow with a purple bolt already in place.
“Keep going!” He yelled, farther back down the hallway with the rest of the Batch.
Omega didn’t think her sixtieth birthday would be spent raiding an Imperial base for information, but there she was, dodging blaster bolts from circular corridors and laying down cover fire for the Batch who were looking for a way out as they ran aimlessly around the sky compound.
The skull embroidered bandana around her forehead kept her brown hair from her face as the customized armour weighed her down. She backed against a wall, peering down a corridor and quickly sprung back from the sizzling bolts whisking by.
Omega jumped from her spot and rolled away from the laying shots, pulling back the bowstring rapidly to take down the KX-series security droid. She was still on her knees with her bow outstretched as her team rounded the corner.
She stood, rolling her shoulders and pointing to the window at the other end. “We could jump.”
“And get squished like pancakes?” Wrecker sounded uneasy through his helmet. “No thanks, I’ll take the stairs.”
“We have KXs inbound,” Crosshair interrupted.
Omega walked to Cross’s position, the sniper offering his fire puncher for her to see. The scope looked through the walls and picked up the movement of what looked like a whole platoon of droids. “Shit.”
“Language!” Hunter raised his voice.
“No, I agree. We’re in deep shit.” Cross took back his rifle.
“Omega’s right, the window is our only option if we value our lives,” Tech looked back at the group from the circuit breaker he was fiddling with on the wall.
A duo of security droids came around the corner, blasting away. The Batch dove for cover around both corners, Crosshair, Hunter, and Tech across from Omega and Wrecker.
Omega and Hunter counted down to sync their defence and Omega’s bow was shot into another corridor as soon as she tried to let lose an energy bolt. She jumped back in shock and shook out her hands.
“You okay, kid?” Wrecker shouted over the blaster fire.
“I’m fine, but I don’t have a weapon!”
“Catch,” Crosshair sounded from the commlink wedged in her armour.
Crosshair threw a spare blaster across the hall with expert precision, Omega catching it with one hand and flying out into the fire of the droids. After a couple missed shots, she sent them both to the ground in a sparking heap.
Hunter ran from his spot against the wall and checked Omega over.
“Did they hit you? Are you injured?” He asked frantically.
“What is it with you guys? I’m fine, only a shot in the armour,” she shrugged Hunter’s hands off her shoulders. A fleeting look of hurt passed over his face before relief.
“We don’t have time, they’re rounding the corner,” Crosshair’s voice flooded through the comms.
“You could do what you did on Skako,” Echo looked down the corridor to find Cross firing an offence.
“Not enough time.”
Omega started down the hall towards the window, picking up speed. “The window it is!”
“Omega wait! We have to wait for the ship!” Echo shouted.
“We’re going to be blasted to hell if we wait! Tell them to hurry up!”
She heard Echo’s frantic chatter on the comms and the group’s heavy footfalls bouncing off the round steel walls as they followed her lead.
As the security droids rounded the corner, Omega was pushed through the tinted glass by a bolt to the back, tumbling through the air before landing face-first on the wing of the Havoc Marauder. She flipped herself onto her back and groaned, watching the blaster fire shoot out the window before, one by one, the batch landed on the wing. Their pilots kept the ship steady and flew off in a hurry once everyone had a hold.
If Omega wasn’t shot twice in the armour, she would’ve laughed blissfully as they flew through the fluffy orange clouds, holding out her arms as the moisture-created little droplets running off the armour plates and slicking back her hair. Instead, she laid there on the wing, holding on for dear life and hoping the moisture wouldn’t loosen her grip.
“You okay?” Hunter yelled over the rushing wind to Omega.
“Stop it!” She growled back.
Echo put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Kids are like this when they’re older, it’ll pass. Don’t get hung up on it.”
Hunter only nodded, putting on his stoic face and looked ahead into the clouds.
--
Once they were far enough away from the Imperial compound, the Havoc touched down on a hill in the middle of a rolling prairie. Blue skies with fluffy clouds surrounded them and the plain landscape.
The Bad Batch slid off the wing, Omega refusing Hunter’s help, and waited for their pilots to extend the steps.
Hera exited the ship first, shouting that she was going to kill Omega for her ridiculous plan and started chasing the brunette. Omega took off in a sprint, yelling that it wasn’t her fault while laughing her head off. The Batch started taking bets on whether Omega would outrun Hera or not and cheered the kids on.
Rex watched the madness ensue, leaning against the door frame with a smile. A fleeting and pained memory of Anakin and Ahsoka at the start of her padawan days passed through and his smile dropped, his light mood dampened. He couldn’t let go of family so easily, but it only made it more painful to go on each day without them.
“We should probably get out of here, Sargent. Imps will be crawling all over the planet,” Rex retreated inside to the co-pilot's seat.
“Alright, pack it in guys! Onto the ship!” Echo shouted to the girls far off in the distance.
Omega sprinted up the steps, gasping for air while Hera held a smile on her face, her breathing barely obstructed. She saw the confusion and the team’s heads turning from the ship to her.
“I was track star at my school, 100 meters in 5 seconds,” she said proudly and climbed into the ship.
“Who knew?” Hunter remarked.
“You would if you paid attention to your kids,” Crosshair smirked and boarded the ship with the rest following.
“I do pay attention! You got something you want to say, Cross?”
“Of course not, Sarg.”
--
“Thank you for your hard work, Sargent Hunter,” the rebel cell leader’s recorded message projected on the dash. “You will be fairly compensated and given your next mission in two weeks. Enjoy this time off, there won’t be much more.”
Tech shut down her hologram and looked to Hunter in the seat behind Rex. The rest of the crew waited for their leader’s next order. They hadn’t had two weeks off... ever. The most clones got was a weekend, Omega was constantly working with Nala and then going on missions, and Hera had been training as a pilot or busy with school and family. Even their droids were never shut down for more than a day.
Wrecker scratched the back of his neck. “What are we doing, Sarg?”
Silence.
“Hunter?” Omega piped up from the shared seat with Hera.
“I’m thinking,” he waved them off.
Crosshair scoffed playfully and went further back into the ship. “That’s a first.”
“It’s already pretty tight in here,” he started. “I say we touch down on a planet, enjoy the peace for once.”
Hunter saw Hera visibly deflate and Omega put an arm around her shoulder.
“You can fly the ship, Hera, but only with one of the adults around,” Hunter added in defeat. She bounced in her seat and started talking with Omega excitedly, pressing a button on the armrest and spinning the seat around back to the stars.
“Where are you thinking?” Rex asked, silently praying for no god damn desert planets.
“I don’t know. Tech, any ideas?”
Tech pulled up his trusty datapad and started furiously tapping at the screen.
Crosshair had returned from the poor excuse of a kitchen with two soda cans and strolled smugly through the aisle to Hera and Omega. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the console, and gave the soda over to the kids. They jumped excitedly, not knowing there was any more of the fizzy drinks left, and swiped them from his hands. They filled him in quietly on what they were conversing about as Crosshair gave the rest of the crew a shit-eating smirk.
“I didn’t know we had any soda left,” Wrecker whispered to Hunter across from him.
“We don't.”
“This is why he’s the favourite, isn’t it?” Rex leaned to the side towards the two.
“He did this all the time on Kamino when we were cadets. It got the others off our backs.”
“I just hid in the ceiling panels,” Rex snickered.
“You weren’t always ‘mister beloved of the GAR’?” Echo shoved the captain's shoulder from his place against the wall.
“Hell no. Pretty sure Cody was part of the ‘fuck Rex squad’ at some point.”
“I think we all have seasonal membership cards.”
“Hey!”
“So there’s Mantessa,” Tech interrupted with the list of planets. “A thick jungle planet with a fiercely predatorial native species called the panthacs. They kill quite efficiently in their home environments; I’d quite literally commit murder to get documentation of their-”
“Tech, we have kids on board,” Hunter stopped him. “Maybe something more... vacation-y?”
Tech glared at him. “Vacation-y isn’t even a word-”
“Tech.”
“Fine fine,” he dismissed the idea, a little saddened that Hunter shot it down so eagerly.
“Mimban is largely unexplored and has a very turbulent atmosphere as well as energy storms in the stratosphere. It would be quite the learning experience for Hera to-”
“We aren’t looking for learning experiences, we’re looking for a break,” Echo said.
“You all have ridiculous standards,” he mumbled, scrolling to the bottom of his list. “Numidian Prime. The syndicates have been known to use it from time to time, but with the Empire extending it’s rein, it shouldn’t house too much trouble for us. There’s a very interesting bird species-”
“Tech.”
“I swear it’s habitable and without predatory species that would rip us to shreds,” he dismissed Hunter’s insistence. He tossed the datapad carefully on top of his satchel in the corner. “I think I heard a friend having a camp there, a Calrissian. He’ll let us stay.”
“How do you know?” Rex asked.
“He’s never there.”
Hunter clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention. “It looks like we’re vacationing on Numidian Prime.”
Hera, Omega, and Rex went to work on plotting their course and getting them to lightspeed while the Batch strapped in for the ride.
“After you,” Rex gestured to the console.
“Why thank you, Captain,” Hera smiled and pulled the hyperspace levers back. The ship stopped for a second and shot forward into the stars, a tunnel of churning light making way for the Havoc.
Omega sighed blissfully, sitting back against the seat. “This never gets old.”
--
I haven't posted any fics in 11 days, I really just needed to get something out for y'all.
ALSO
I reached 99 followers yesterday!! Well, it's 101 now, but thank you all for giving me a chance at sharing my love for Star Wars. It's you that makes this possible! I know I have a lot of improving to do when it comes to writing, but I'm so incredibly happy that you're giving me a chance and following along on my journey!!
Part 2 will be up soon (I hope), stick around for that! I post basically every day and I'm constantly online!
More fics of mine!
A War Without a Winning Side (Ahsoka, Rex, Maul series)
One of the Bad Ones (female!oc and Crosshair [platonic])
Only the Beginning (Cap. Howzer Part 1 (part 2 linked))
Hope was a Dangerous Game (male!oc and Crosshair [romantic])
Lightsaber Trials (fluff)
And here's my masterlist for more!
27 notes · View notes
echo-three-one · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Run run run....
Table of Contents
Previous Chapter : Going Dark - Part 1
Chapter 23 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️
Tumblr media
Going Dark - Part 2
John "Soap" MacTavish
London, United Kingdom
Soap never knew that the bloody guy would pull that trick off his sleeve. He's been sick of the same ringing he first experienced when they went out with Francine.
So he did what he could and quickly got up to his feet as soon as he saw Alex attempt to halt the hostage on his tracks. That bastard's going to pay for stomping on Alex like that.
With comms down once again, he had to act fast, stomping down the stairs, never leaving sight of the runner. He could sense someone following him and assumed it's any of Roach, Price or Jack. And it looked like Ghost caught wind of what happened too.
"Oi! Let's flank him!" Soap roared across the empty streets as Ghost and Roach split ways and ran toward their target.
They're not kidding when they said the Shadow Company is at par with the 141, the guy ran like a horse which Soap never expected from his build. He could see Ghost and Roach sprinting from his sides, one wrong turn and he's done for, but he still had one last trick. 
He raced to the emergency stairs as his heavy feet clanged against the metal. Soap followed, optimizing the steps on edges to gain on him. Going up the rooftops was his biggest mistake.
"Bollocks, he's still running!" he announced as he felt his ears crackling. 
"Well…. st….by…. do….airs.." His earpiece crackled through the static. It's recovering but they're already far off MacMillan's truck where their line connected.
He leaped. Soap almost stopped in his tracks as the runner courageously leapt across the huge gap and rolled on to the next building. He braced himself and continued dashing across the roof and did a mighty leap, his arms circled like he was swimming and he carefully placed his feet to perform a proper land and rolled.
That's going to hurt as soon as the adrenaline fades, but he quickly got up and made use of his remaining burst of energy. 
The runner stopped in his tracks as soon as Roach emerged from the opposite fire escape, raising a pistol pointed straight at him as he raised his hand in surrender.
"Nowhere to run now." Roach said, cautiously walking near him. He's aware that his phone is still inside his pocket and that they had no idea when it'll go off again.
He didn't talk, but he looked panicked. He was sweating all over and his face was beyond recognizable. It looked like he's out of options.
"Tell us Where Shepherd is…" Gary pointed the loaded gun on his head, the desperation in Gary's eyes were obvious.
"There's an abandoned plane graveyard near Afghanistan…" he whimpered. His voice was shaky enough to warrant the truth.
"What's he doing there?" Soap added.
"He's trading the blueprints for the I.P. Address… Please that's all I know" he begged and they quickly left the place, walking back to MacMillan's car.
"You got something?" Ghost asked as soon as Roach's feet landed on the dark alley.
"A place. In Afghanistan." Roach answered.
"And he also had the I.P. Address.." Soap added.
"But that's impossible… didn't Samantha already forget about it?" Ghost asked but there was a quiet pause. Their brains almost looked like working together.
"Holy Crap." Roach finally broke the silence.
And from that moment they realized the other reason behind Samantha's memory returning. One way or another, her memories were once again toyed with.
~
"So how was it?" Price asked the team that ran off to chase the runner.
"We got an address. An abandoned plane yard in Afghanistan." Roach replied. Soap turned to Alex as he sat at the back of the jeep tending to his wound. 
"You okay mate?" he asked walking close to his ally, who was wincing in pain.
"The guy's boots are heavy." He chuckled and so did Soap.
"Listen, Alex. We heard that Shepherd has the I P. address, did Samantha tell you anything about remembering it?" Soap asked as the whole team fell silent and turned to the two.
"Not really. What's bothered me is that she remembers everything except after when Shepherd explained his plans to her… Could it be that…" Alex trailed.
"She remembered because they undid their operation on her…" Jack continued. The whole group stood in silence. 
Price's phone rang and delivered them with more bad news. It looked like while chasing the runner, Shepherd had caught wind of their activity and had some of London police scour the nearby streets for them.
"Da, It's time to go, my comrades." Nikolai announced as soon as Price relayed the message. Their ride home was compromised.
"Where to?" He asked.
"I know a place." Soap said.
TRAIN STATION
It looked like Soap's hunch was right. None of the people onboard to Scotland mind about the faces of the fugitives flashed on the news recently. 
Their day packs had reserved clothes and they opted to change to something more civilian. Soap could smell the fabric conditioner France used to wash his newly bought clothes and couldn't help but miss her. If they weren't on a rush, Soap could've topped up for international calls.
"How long is this trip? 7 hours?" Price asked a civilian with surprised expressions.
"Wow. It's like a plane ride, but I'm still in the same country!" Jack cackled at the idea. He does have a different sense of humor. Just as Alex described him.
The rest of the team took this time to rest, they sat on the emptiest part of the train, away from the people that might recognize them and report their presence.
"I've contacted Samantha. It looks like they're having a small problem over there." Alex said.
"Someone saw one of us fugitives and tried to get inside the house to claim his bounty. At first they just talked him off but he's persistent now. So they decided to fly to our location and regroup there. And Soap, where exactly are we going?" Alex asked. Soap took a careful look around his team and felt nervous about his decision.
"Our old house. In Scotland. It's far off civilization. I think no one would look for us there." he muttered, gaining a nod from Price and Jack. Soap sighed in relief as soon as they thought of it as a good idea. Roach actually felt excited despite having to go there by train for seven hours. He immediately made that decision a few minutes ago without anyone's approval, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
"Hey, you three… Thanks for chasing that runner while we were out. Go catch some sleep. We'll watch over this train. It's going to be a long trip." Price nudged and Jack nodded. Soap gave a pair of earbuds to Price, the old man immediately looked at him with question.
"What's this? A hearing aid?" Price asked.
"Our runner wore that so it might be the reason he wasn't affected by his own blast." He muttered before crossing his arms.
"Thanks, mate. I'll let someone have a look at this." Price nodded and Jack immediately inserted with a suggestion.
"I know someone near Glasgow. A close friend of mine." 
"That's great. He's closer." Price agreed and Soap slowly drifted himself asleep, trying to rest his tired legs all while also trying not to worry about Francine.
GLASGOW, SCOTLAND
The never shifting scenery of the road home sent John MacTavish into a little nostalgia trip. The sound of trains screeching across the station reminded him of so many things from the past.  The road they're walking along now was the same road he's walked on everyday of his life, and now after a lot of years, he can't believe he's back.
"I don't see anything nearby,  are you sure we're not lost Soap?" Roach asked.
"We aren't. The house is just obstructed by the trees. They've grown taller since I last left." he replied enthusiastically. He looked obviously excited to see his home.
As soon as they reached the short curve, a huge cream-painted house greeted them from the distance. He could hear Alex and Roach's collective oohs and aahs every step they took closer.
"When you said old, I was really expecting it to be abandoned." Roach mused.
"It is, actually. My parents are off… somewhere else." he replied leading the way inside the house. The pool was already dirty and most weeds already outgrew the fences.
Soap pushed the huge wooden double door open and was greeted by the same visage of their entrance way back when he was a kid. Same pictures hung on the walls of his adventures as a kid up to the recent photo of his graduation. His mom was always proud of him no matter what, but he couldn't forget the way she looked at him once he chose to enlist to the riskiest job ever.
The rest of the team helped themselves to discovering the inside of the house, looking at photos, sitting on the couches and grabbing a glass of water. Soap quickly gave them a tour of the house and that they're free to pick a guest room of their choice. It was appropriate that they'd feel comfortable after a tough day.
"Nice place you got here, comrade. Why'd you give this all up for a life that's always hanging on the ledge?" Nikolai asked, tapping his shoulder. 
"I don't even know." he muttered and Nikolai chuckled, making his way to the living room. The team was quick to adapt to the place. Roach and Ghost already chose their rooms and he assumed they already attempted to recover while the three older men gathered around the television and watched the news. Alex was by the telephone, probably contacting Samantha. He wanted to check on France himself, so he planned to go to his room and make a call.
"The New York attack stopped." Price discussed with Nikolai and Jack, the three began speculating about a lot of things. Soap would love to join in the conversation but he decided to update on Francine first.
His room looked the same as when he left, the same shade of blue wallpaper, the same color sheets that were changed weekly and the same things on top of his bedside drawer.
Dialing her number, which he subconsciously memorized, he immediately placed the receiver on his ear and anxiously waited for her to pick up the phone.
"Hello?" her voice sounded different over the phone, but it still sent shivers across his spine as soon as he heard it.
"Hey. It's me." he replied.
"Angelo?" she asked, her voice almost sounded like she's fighting herself not to laugh.
"It's John." 
"I know, silly. Who would mistake you for anyone else with that accent." she retorted.
"Do ya like it?" he teased, making sure he emphasized his Scottish accent well.
"Why'd you call?" She changed the topic. She wasn't budging on his teasing, but he knew she's already blushing on the other side of the line.
"Did Price give you the landing coordinates?" he asked.
"Yeah. Maxine looked it up on the map. It looks like a shady house in the middle of nowhere. Who are you?" she joked.
"Great. I'll see you here. I-" he hesitated. He wanted to tell her how much he misses her. But even with his oozing confidence, he felt like chickening out this time.
"Yeah. We're on our way. Take care out there John." She said and dropped the call. Soap sighed and plopped himself on his bed, deeply sighing at his actions. This girl was making him crazy… and the funny thing is he's all fine with it.
Next Chapter : Going Dark - Part 3
Notification Squad my Beloved
@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @beemybee @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach
29 notes · View notes
mulderist · 4 years ago
Text
Wicked Game
Tumblr media
Previous chapters // read on A03
Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.
tagging @today-in-fic
CHAPTER 6
Navy Yard Washington, D.C. 10:13 p.m.
The Navy Yard sits on an unappealing southeast corner of the city pressed up against a polluted strip of the Potomac. It was used for ship maintenance and ammunition manufacturing during the war and continued for a little while after. The surrounding warehouses and docks became defunct once the war effort projects dried up. The shipyard devolved into a revolving door for small-time criminals which begat large-time mobsters. Security was usually an older night watchman who was past his prime and easy to track. Smaller boats would pull up and drop off cargo whenever they could. Deals were quick and dirty. Soon, respectable businesses in the southeast east district wanted a piece and formed a “two ships passing” style agreement. I suppose it saved them from having their goods sent to Anacostia or down towards Virginia. 
A flash of lightning brightened up a cluster of clouds. A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Fortunately, I had arrived and got into position just prior to the downpour. I sat on a dirt driveway off the access road, which was quickly becoming a muddy river. There was a canal to my left at the nine o’clock position, the Potomac dead ahead at my twelve, and the edge of a warehouse was at my three o’clock. The rain sounded like I had parked my Pontiac under Niagara Falls. Water pounded against the roof, rushed down the windshield in sheets of grey making the wiper blades useless. The water-logged Buddy Rich solo played on against the car and I had a feeling my view was not going to clear up anytime soon.
I fidgeted with a sunflower seed I pulled from the half-empty bag on my dashboard. Ideally I would toss the shells out the window but given the weather and trying to keep a low profile, there was an unsalted graveyard on the floor of the sedan. I cracked the shell with my teeth and added it to the discarded brethren. The seed danced around my tongue and I turned my wrist trying to make out the time on my watch. The minute hand eased a tick past the quarter hour. I then picked up the radio and connected with the precinct dispatch.
“This is Detective Mulder, over.”
Static. Click. Click.
I pressed the button again on the comm as I leaned over and grabbed my hat.
“This is Detective Mulder, do you copy? Over.” 
“Evening detective, this is Officer Stanz. Always nice hearing your voice in the dead of the night.”
“You too, sweetheart.”
“So Mulder, what’s your status?” 
“Waiting for this storm to strip the paint off my car,” I replied as I ran a hand over my face. “Visibility is shit sitting here in the driver’s seat. Regrettably, I think I’ll have to go on foot. Over.”
“Copy that,” she said, “Hopefully you won’t need to build an ark.”
“Honey, I’d rather swim for it. Over and out.” 
I placed my hat on my head, pocketed the small binoculars that were resting on the seat next to me, and opened the car door into the deluge. The rain sounded different as it slapped against the water in the canal, rang against the scrap metal, and beat against the dock. I dashed towards a scrap pile and crouched down amongst rusted metal and what I hoped were empty oil drums. If there was a gunfight I didn’t want to go up like a Roman candle. I peered over an oil drum and got eyes on the warehouse through the binoculars.
The info Krycek had provided Skinner said three was the magic number; Vincenti favored odds over evens. Guess I know how he’d play the roulette wheel at the casino. I saw a worn metal sign tacked to the side of the building letting me know I was in the right place. There was a dim light piercing through a shadow on the dock so somebody was home. Suddenly, headlights came down the other end of the access road and I got out of sight. The car went dark and I counted to ten then shifted my position. Rain poured off the brim of my hat, dripped down my neck so I flipped up the collar; glad I chose the dark grey trench coat. The new vehicle slowly crept closer to the front of the warehouse and idled. Once the hood touched the dim light source I knew it looked familiar; the distinct yellow paint job of a D.C. cab. I squinted and tried to memorize the plate number through spikes of rain. The passenger door opened flashing the checkered pattern on the side panel. A figure stepped out and rounded the front of the car then paused at the driver’s side before heading into the warehouse. Just then, a headlight shone on the river. I listened to the putter of the engine as it pulled up to the edge of the dock. Once the engine was cut I watched through the binoculars and saw one of the goons wave as the boat approached the dock. It was the same goon who was with Lodi at the restaurant. He approached the boat as they cut off the light. My grip switched and my eyes strained.
The D.C.cab was still idling along with the boat at the dock. I kept to the shadows. I could feel moisture collect at my mid back from an adrenaline surge. That all too familiar feeling. Suddenly as a thunder clap sounded, I had a flashback to a sunrise mission on Wake Island: Rain made my hands very slick on the Carbine as I tried to ready my aim. Bullets whizzed around me. The mud was so thick. An explosion went off nearby, my ear was ringing. My sergeant was yelling commands. I held my breath for three counts and pulled the trigger, a bright spray of red marked where I hit a Japanese soldier square in the throat. First time I successfully made that shot. Confirmed kill.
  I closed my eyes and dug my nails into the palm of my hand, one pain replaced another and the memory faded. My breath was short but steady. I needed to focus. If the goon was there, Lodi was surely lurking somewhere inside. I just needed to get eyes on him. The backside of the building seemed like a safer option and I pressed against the rotting wood as I moved around to a shabby staircase. A quick glance up and I climbed towards the single door. The steps were slippery and I was waiting for my foot to punch through a soft spot in the warped planks. At the landing I readied my gun and turned the knob, slowly opening the unlocked door. The upper level looked clear. It was a nice respite from the storm. I held my position and holstered my weapon. My trenchcoat felt like it took on about twenty pounds of rainwater and I would have enjoyed shaking off like a wet shaggy dog. Drips from the edge of my coat marked my hiding spot like an X on a treasure map. Luckily I didn’t need my binoculars from my perch because, as if on cue, Carlo Lodi’s hulking frame lumbered across the floor. 
He blew a puff of smoke from a dying cigarette. His goon handed over a white package which Lodi bounced in his hand with approval. He gave a wave and a couple of men filed out of the warehouse and approached the boat. I could just barely make out the edge of it bobbing at the side of the dock. The lackeys quickly transferred packages from the boat to the trunk of the idling taxi. I adjusted my stance and craned my neck. The cab had a picture of the Capitol dome and what looked like the word ‘Speedy.’ They were using the taxi company to move the heroin. I heard the boat engine rev and pull away from the dock. One of the men approached the driver’s side door of the cab and pulled the driver out. He pushed the confused cabbie away from his vehicle. Then the man swiftly plunged a knife in the cabbie’s side, repeating the motion until the poor driver went limp. He was then dropped in the Potomac like yesterday’s garbage. The goon took his place behind the wheel and I knew I needed to get back outside to tail him.
I saw the headlights from the commandeered taxi so I was careful not to be spotted. I couldn’t tell which direction he was going to pull off so I waited behind a different wood and scrap pile. The chug of the engine caught my attention. The lights appeared to be moving backwards and when they were far enough, I made a break for my car. Inside via the passenger door I fished out my key and started the engine then grabbed the radio comm.
“This is Mulder, does anyone read?”
I backed up on the access road and spun the wheel in the right direction. That sweet voice came through my radio once again.
“This is Stanz. Over.”
“I got eyes on Lodi. Shipment confirmed at Dock 3 at the Navy Yard, get anyone from the Southeast Division who isn’t asleep down here now. Beat cops, vice, narco, I’ll take whatever I can get. Take caution, he isn’t alone.”
I pressed the gas a little harder keeping textbook distance as I locked onto the cab. I clicked the comm again. 
“I’m in pursuit of an accomplice heading west on Waterfront Dr. It’s a taxi, plate number: TK-0421. Speedy Capitol Cab Company. Over” 
“Roger that. I’ll relay to Captain Skinner. Over and out.”
I tapped the break as I pulled around a corner and turned up Patterson Ave. then on to M Street. The cab slowed to stop at a red light a block ahead of me. Mighty nice of him to use a turn signal. He switched lanes and merged onto New Jersey Ave. angling towards Capitol Hill. The street cut a sharp diagonal and the famed white dome came into view. I heard my radio crackle but ignored it. My eyes felt like I had rubbed them with sandpaper, I hated to blink for fear of losing my target. I was dangerously tired, a second wind was long overdue. 
Street lights and neon bounced against puddles in the street. The rain had slacked off to the point where it was an annoying stubborn mist that couldn’t make up its mind if it wanted to stop or go full tilt. I had cracked my window and listened to the rush of tires on slick pavement, splashing in potholes and against manhole covers. 
The cab turned right onto Independence Ave. I tailed a little closer than protocol distance, keeping only one car between us. I missed the signal change and watched my target turn left on First St. Impatiently I waited for the signal, hoping I hadn’t lost them. After I made the turn I slowed down and searched for the taxi. I spotted it parked in front of the Library of Congress, parked like he was picking up a fare. There was a man standing on the curb holding an umbrella. I performed a u-turn maneuver and pulled into an empty parallel space, threw the gear shift into park and advanced on the suspect.
“DCPD!” I yelled as I approached the driver’s side door with my badge and gun drawn. The driver calmly rolled down the window and lifted a meaty hand from the wheel. A thick signet ring on his pinky finger looked like butcher’s twine around a sausage link. 
“No, keep ‘em on the wheel! Don’t move.”
He smirked and obliged. I held my gun on him and glanced in the backseat; a red ember glowed from the tip of a freshly lit cigarette.  
“Is there something we can do for you, detective?”
That voice. That distinctive snake hiss I couldn’t forget; it slowly coiled around like a wisp of smoke. The smoking man. Spender’s father. 
“Fancy meeting you here. Looks like you chose the wrong taxi tonight.”
“On the contrary detective, it’s you who chose poorly.”
“Yeah I have a knack for doing that,” I retorted, fingers gripping the handle of my gun, “Alright, you — out of the car. Hands where I can see them.” I pulled the door open and took a step back, letting the goon out. I made him turn to face the car, hands atop the roof. The smoking man leaned forward from the backseat, cigarette tucked between his lips.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Hey! You are next on my list.” I shouted then continued frisking the goon, finding a small handgun and a switchblade. I stuffed them into my trench coat pocket.
“Careful, you’re gonna make me stiff,” he said with a laugh as I patted his legs down to the ankle, finding another blade in a clever holster. I pulled out my handcuffs and clasped his wrists behind his back. I pushed my gun in between his shoulder blades, directing him toward the rear of the taxi and told him to open the trunk. I felt the heat from the exhaust pipe blowing against my pant leg, creating a small dry patch on an otherwise drenched pair of trousers. The goon shook his head and flipped the latch. The trunk appeared empty.
“Alright where is it?” I asked,
“Where’s what?”
“The package. The white package.”
“Ain’t no package here.”
I leaned in and felt around, searching for a latch or tab or something that would indicate a hidden compartment. As my free hand finally found what it was looking for, my occupied hand dug the tip of the standard issue deeper into a lesser known pressure point in the goon’s back. The pulled a section of fabric loose, revealing a hidden compartment that was packed full of white packages. 
Sirens wailed in the distance. I tossed the goon in the back of my car, adjusting his handcuffs so there was no funny business, then radioed in my location. The smoking man approached under the cover of his umbrella.
“I could have your badge for this, detective.”
“You can try.”
“This small incident won’t change anything.”
“Just keep telling yourself that. I have officers from every direction to bust up the little party at the Navy Yard. This is the tip of the iceberg and I’m willing to go all the way to the core.”
We stood silent, listening to the approaching sirens. The rain had finally stopped but the percussive sound of drips could still be heard in the surrounding trees. A plume of smoke wafted in the air. He was about to say something to me but a squad car had arrived coming to a stop in the middle of the street. Two unis got out with guns drawn. 
“I’m taking my suspect back to the 3rd,” I called out, “You boys can take this one for a ride.”
22 notes · View notes
estrelladeishtar-archive · 3 years ago
Text
Updates, updates, updates...
So first off I do wanna say I appreciate the 800+ follows ! it means a lot & I do appreciate it a lot & hope y’all like what I have to put out sdjflkds & I hope all o y’all are doin fine & shit. But, all that said... onto the post itself...
It’s been a while since I’ve done an update post on here tbh, & I figured I could probs at least leave some commentary on how things are rn, & also admittedly apologize for not being as active on here compared to other places jdslkfsd- All in all a lot has kept me away & well that’s just what this post is about though I’ve been ofc doing art still.
As per usual I’m most active on twitter ? Though I’m doing my best to start making more of a comeback on here too LOL & I’m sorta active on instagram. I do wanna post more on here & stuff personally, so do expect me to have more things to throw out here & there once I got the time & energy to, since life’s kept me pretty busy overall as is.
Coping with chronic health issues, coping with life circumstances as a whole, so on & so forth basically is the gist of it. Along with self reflecting, spending time w friends I have & also in general other interests.
Tossing under a read more so as to not like, clog dashes & all that lmao
So, for more in depth talk I suppose...
A lot of this year (as well as late last year actually) tbh has been... spent on self reflection & healing from stuff in my past if I’ma be honest. I won’t go into depth on it, since a lot of it is very personal & not stuff I like to really talk about (not to mention its uh, very trigger heavy if we’re to be honest, but I personally don’t like the thought of disclosing my trauma & past in general to people I’m not close enough to), but the tl;dr is me learning I’m more traumatized than I thought since I uh, earlier this year ended up uncovering a lotta shit I’d repressed/never addressed & always ran away from in regards to my own healing 💀
It’s... been a very emotionally intense couple of months (if not over a whole year considering when this all started), with letting myself process everything I’d buried in full. Excavating & additionally, processing years upon years worth of intense stuff that was locked away & didn’t realize... is not easy at all... but it’s necessary for healing I suppose.
So I’ve been learning to heal all of that, as well as, y’know, coping with more shit life’s thrown at me that’s been hard & been tryna figure out how to deal with it... but I mean... at this point that’s just what I’m used to so, nothing out of the ordinary I suppose sjlkfs
& Ofc health issues in & of itself are their own hassle since autoimmune disease is a bitch but what can ya do right?   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I’ve also been diving into multiple interests in general outside of art, like writing or studying astrology stuff or my own witchcraft shit, so on? Just things to give me somethin else to do, so its another factor that’s added to me not being as active art wise. Though I’ve still kept up at least lmao, but yeah, there’s that too.
My birthday also lowkey came to pass back in august sdsjlkf so, I’ve finally hit 25 now? Ngl I still haven’t really. Processed that I’m 25 although a part of it’s also related to the whole healing from stuff but, not gonna go into depth on that here.
But yeah. A lot of that along w severing ties to some & also making new bonds & healing, has been a major focus for me. It’s not been easy a feat, but its stuff that I personally feel is necessary for me & takes priority over art. Plus, amidst this I’ve also kinda lowkey realized I’m just in general a slow artist jsdlkfs but I mean, that’s fine really. I kind of prefer taking my time w artworks & havin them turn out the way I want, so there’s that too.
Also over time come to realize what I really wanna do w my life so like. It’s, been A LOT.
Art wise I’ve been doing fine & well, I do have plans to in time re-open comms & stuff altho by that point prices will have changed & it’ll def be me being a lot pickier which ones I take (it’d be a selection process if I do reopen & v limited slots). Mainly because I just wanna make sure I’m not burning myself out like I used to be just to get by with helping on bills sometimes, & in the meantime well figure that mess out myself. Plus I lowkey wanna be able to be more self indulgent w my work so there’s that too, & also focus on art trade stuff w mutuals & other things I decide to do that are more personal.
Lot of thoughts lot of musings lots of things going through the mind
But overall I guess that’s just the gist? You have your solid updates post & everything now so that’s, pretty much what’s gone on with me on my end. Ik I am keeping details personal/to myself a lot so a good portion of this may be vague but, for good reason. But its why I’ve been away though I’m still keeping up w my art every now & then.
Its 7 am rn & I haven’t slept (though this also is the norm for me 💀 ) so I don’t really have much else to say cause brain fried sdjlfsd But, all in all I do hope all o y’all have been fine & stuff, & not to worry about me bc I’m p much managing so yeah.
5 notes · View notes
starcityhq · 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
THIS IS IT —
Bruce Banner and Tim Drake knew they couldn’t ignore the alarming level of gamma radiation permeating the city since NOVA’s departure. Their concerns were brought to Bruce Wayne and Steve Rogers, along with detailed reports and explanations. However, no one could ignore the greatest possible threat presented to them: a nuclear bomb. 
Things moved quickly after that. A small team was assembled to infiltrate NOVA’s Headquarters for information, but to also be prepared for a confrontation. No one knew how much time they had. The situation was dire. This time, however, they wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Scott Summers stayed behind with a group of mutants - mutants prepared and equipped to shield the city in case of nuclear disaster. A second group remained in Star City man comms and funnel information between parties. Throughout it all, the public remained unaware of the underlying crisis.
But not for long.
As the mission is underway, citizens are enjoying what they believe to be a nice, normal day. The air is cool and crisp, but the sun is shining. It’s a beautiful day for a little chaos. 
At least, that’s what Joker thinks. And after so much buildup, he’s ready to unleash his little plan on the world. In the dead of night the day before, he had sent his men out to rig up a giant screen concealed within a billboard which looked like it was advertising for a new play going up called “The Main Event.” Identical boards were positioned carefully throughout the high trafficked areas in the city.
Joker straightens his tie as he prepares to help Star City greet the day with a gripping drama he has created all by himself. There are so many ways this could have gone awry. If Superman had come after him that day after the park with Lucy. If Anton Satan has taken his warning a little more seriously. If Rick Flagg had caught him during the Kryptonite heist shrouded by the chaos of the riots after the NOVA explosion. He would have to thank all of his supporting actors: Scarecrow, Kite-Man, Harley, of course, and even Money Shot—Payload—for their contributions, but it would be Joker reaping the benefits.
3...2...1… Showtime.
A gloved finger flicked a switch on his control board and Joker kicked back to wait as his goons lured Superman to his location. The billboards all over the city were suddenly graced with his face.
“What a beautiful morning to you, Star City,” an all too familiar voice echoes from every television set in the city. All the places the broadcast avenues he had jacked would have reached. Television sets, streaming, and of course, the electronic billboards in the streets all feature his pearly whites and the sinister grin that accompanies them.
“Since it’s been so long since you and I have had a proper show, I figured you had to be missing me terribly. All this chaos and not even a little bit of fun to cut the ugly? It’s a crime worse than any that I could commit. We all need a little laughter once and a while or I’ve found that we have the tendency to… just explode.”
“Things have certainly been in a whirlwind since we last spoke, haven’t they? Barely any time to laugh at all. Those heroes all need to unwind once and awhile, just like us, but it must just feel soooo out of control. So… how about we do a little favor to one of the guys that puts in so many hard hours for us doing big big favors? Ladies and gentleman, for your viewing pleasure, I’ve set up a little game for none other than the Man of Steel himself to give him back all the control he needs.”
“I’ve come to learn,” he said, more for the benefit of the onlookers than Superman, who could also hear him speaking now, “that Superman is really more of a family man than any of us could ever have guessed. But which is more important? Family or fellowship? After all, you all look to Supes, don’t you? Would he choose the needs of the many or the needs of the favored? Strap a bomb to a man’s family or under a man’s city, and then the choices really get tough. Maybe control’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
And with that, Joker has taken control of the bomb.
This event will have teams in different locations. If you would like to be added to a team or if you would like to be switched to a different team, please message an admin and let us know!
TEAM A:
MEMBERS: Bruce Wayne, Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Barry Allen, Oliver Queen, Erik Lehnsherr, Wanda Maximoff, Anna Raven, Jihl Nabel, Bucky Barnes, Dick Grayson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, & Tommy Shepherd.
LOCATION: NOVA’s new Headquarters, 500 miles outside of Star City.
OBJECTIVE: Infiltrate NOVA for information on the location of a possible nuclear weapon. Use force if necessary.
TEAM B:
MEMBERS: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Roy Harper, Donna Troy, & Airen Ravencroft.
LOCATION: Wayne Manor.
OBJECTIVE: Provide ground support and gather information for Team A. 
TEAM C: 
MEMBERS: Scott Summers, Bobby Drake x 2, Julian Keller, Gabby Kinney, Nathan Summers, Emma Frost, & Quentin Quire.
LOCATION: District X.
OBJECTIVE: Prepare for the worst case scenario should the bomb go off.
Any character not on a team is free to react to the bomb threat however you’d like! Remember that Star City is an island. There is a single bridge and a ferry, but with the ensuing panic, no one is getting anywhere any time soon. Feel free to have your character stuck in traffic, on the ferry, ect., or message the main if you’d like ideas on how to participate! There are plenty of heroes and villains still in the city to help out/wreck more havoc!
Tumblr media
NOTE: You are welcome to complete threads (group or otherwise) on discord or on the dash!
And with that, our event has begun! It will run JANUARY 31ST, 6:30PM EST to FEBRUARY 14TH, 6:30PM EST. Please make sure you are tracking and using the “STARCRADIOACTIVE” and “STARCEVENT” tags for event posts and are answering open starters in addition to posting your own! Please do not start non-event threads during this time without permission from the admins. As always, admins reserve the right to accept character applications at any time during the event rather than just during the typically scheduled two days a week. Keep an eye out for plot drops!
10 notes · View notes
jennsmischievousmind · 4 years ago
Text
Fucks not Found
Florence
Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]
Tumblr media
Who had this fucking idea?
One had refused that you got out the truck since Italy was were you lived. Apparently for Six it was okay, since he was in the car moving at 160per hour. That’s how you ended up in that stupid espresso truck Three had rented. Feet on the dash, trying to concentrate on your laptop, unfortunately Three was trying to learn Italian next to you.
“I’m gonna kill him!” You said through greeted teeth, he was shamelessly butchering your mother tongue.
“Be nice Eight.” Five chuckled over the comm. The mission was going smoothly at first, exchanging jokes with Six, Four sending pictures on the group chat from his view up there. 
Eventually everything went south real quick. It distracted you from the urge to shoot at Three.
“You hit one more person and I’m walking?” you heard Five in the comm link, your eyes widened.
“You’ve hit someone?!” you yelled at Six. 
“Grazed him really ..” he tried to convince you
“Totally smashed him, One added, 10/10!”
“Imbecille!” your Italian resurfacing when in stress.
Four scoffed in the comm link "How come she can speak Italian and you cannot?
"She's always been the better twin" Six hissed avoiding another walker
“Definitely.” Four answered in a hushed tone.  
Brushing away Four’s comment you got impatient "One, I need access to that phone!"
One growled  "Bossy, ever so bossy!"
“What did you guys do in there? Why are you covered in blood?” Six inquired, you could hear the disgust in his voice, between cursed and screeching tires, as obviously they were chased by the lawyer’s own TAC team. 
“ The head, neck, and face are very, very vascular. So it’s a lot of blood.” One vaguely tried to explain.
“Oh Eight I think they kill a mafia guy in Italy! You pressed your temples at your brother’s words. 
The lawyer’s phone needed facial recognition more specifically retina recognition… so naturally Two scooped his eye out. What a first mission!
“One for Four?”
“Yeah, go for Four.”
“ We need you.”
“ Of course you need me. I’m here.”
“Remind me, where the fuck is here?” 
“ Here here. Like, here?” Four continued, his evasive answers made you grin.
“Specificity.” One added
“ Here. Right effing here! Top of the Duomo, like we talked about. Look up. Where you going?”
“In the wrong direction. Please help them.” You sighed, Three spun his revolver your way.
“Get that thing away from my face Three!” he grimaced returning to his book
“Oh shit, coming down! Four announced… Coming up North, down on Via de ..via de ..there’s so many fucking vias in Italy!  
“Via De Cerretani.” you cleared
“Yeah, yeah” he sighed annoyed
At some point you momentarily removed your earpiece since your brother was screaming and cursing. Mammà would disapprove.
“You gotta lose that police chopper!” Four was perched on the Sagrestia Vecchia following the Alpha Romeo through Florence’s alleys.
You hacked the chopper on board cam “I have eyes, I’ll tell you when they lose you.”
“dov'è il bagno? …. dov'è il baaagno?..” Three repeated 3 TIMES, you glanced at him really annoyed, fingers itching to unsheathed.
“Buongiorno Uno” he answered at the sizzling talkie.
“Shit’s gone, we’re supper fucked, Four needs an Uber!”
“Way ahead of you, papi!” a loud bang coming from above the truck startled you.
“Buongiorno Quattro” Three started the truck.
His accent really made you cringe. Removing your feet from the dash you dip your head catching a glimpse of Four on the top on the truck.
After a few seconds, he got down and squeezed himself by the passenger window, you scout next to Three with a huff.
Gunshots, and cussing resonated in the comm link.Unconsciously biting your thumbnail, you kew your brother was a good driver but it was stressful. Four leaned in watching the chopper cam on your laptop. His blond hair falling into his eyes, you spotted brown flakes in the emerald green of his eyes. He was so close you thought your heartbeat had sync with his because you felt like adrenaline had rush in.
For a second you locked eyes, he smirked at you, immediately self aware of your agape state you nudge him away from your laptop. One was screaming at everyone in the car, Two was screaming back at him, her French accent even more pronounced. Five lost it in Spanish against Six and One. 
“Ok, the chopper lost sight on you, make the best of it little bro.”
All of sudden “Wannabe” blasted into your ear, you chuckled at your brother’s music taste, until Three announced two black suburban were tailing the green Guila Quadrifoglio. Four reloaded the grenade launcher, you eyed him apprehensive, he just smiled at you like a kid on Christmas day.
“Six fake ‘em out mate, I’m coming to you!” reaching for his skateboard behind you.
Few explosions later you urged them to make in on time at the rendez-vous point.
“You got a superhero on the squad!!” your brother praised Four, these two really got along real quick.
Focused on your next escape route aka arguing in Italian on the phone with the docker you didn’t hear the commotion in the car, the tires screeching, shattering glass.
“Whoa, shit!” Six screamed.
You gasped, feeling something was wrong, a deep pain in your chest you couldn’t explain, furrowing your brows you breathe in trying to chase it away, thinking it was the adrenaline rushing out.
Three stopped the truck at the construction site where you had to meet, him and Four got out gun’s at point.
You got out the truck a second later, your own gun in hand, still feeling weird “Ok let’s get the fuck out of my mother land bef..” you freezed, your eyes landing on the green car.
A deafening silence invaded your ears, the sound of you gun hitting the concrete resonating until your brain caught up, you understood the sudden unknown feeling. 
“NOOOOOO” you cried out running to him, feet skidding on the debris. “Come on baby brother, no, no, no, no” you cradled his face in your shaking hands, your vision blurry with tears, you pushed your forehead onto his, hands bloodied. “please, please” you begged sobbing, murmuring prayers.
 He was gone. You were unable to feel his presence, unable to feel his emotions through that unique bond twins have, you felt lost, incomplete.
 The harbor was the final way out, no one said a word as Four and One put Six in a transparent body bag.
The boat drifting away, Three came out with a bottle of booze and some pizzas, like, the fuck man pizzas right now? You denied the drink, if you were to drink you knew you were not going to stop until you black out. You sat on the edge of the stern, eyes glossy a blank expression on your face. One stood by your side, his behavior cold but uneasy.
“Here’s a toast to a kid I liked.” Three lift his glass
“Are you crying?” Two mocked him
“We didn’t even know his name.”
“We don’t know any names.”
“What was his name?” You didn’t want to say his name, you didn’t want to burst in tears just by saying his name. 
“It doesn’t matter. He was a good man.”
You didn’t expect One to say that, yes he was but in the end what did he knew about your brother.
“I thought I managed the risk. I’m sorry.” One softly concluded not looking at you
“Did you guys had anyone else...family?”
“I think you’re looking at it.” Two told her nodded your way cautiously
They all look at you gravely, please stop you screamed internally; I don’t need your pity, I need my brother.
“Risposa in Pace Fratellino” you whispered as they toss his body into the unforgiving Adriatic Sea. Here you were, the only one left of the Y/L/N family.
After giving One the last update on the phone they’d got, you went to the cabin, to steal a moment alone, cry without a bunch of strangers around. But you bumped into Four.
“Hey ..” he hesitate, searching his pocket he lifted his hand, showing the Cross necklace Six had attached to his stir.
Four didn’t know how much this cross meant to your family, and that did it, bawling you let all your sorrow out clutching at the cross.
Tears you hadn’t shed for your parents, as you try to be tough for your mother when papà disappeared, and then for your brother when mammà died. And now for him.
Carefully Four wraps his arm around your frame, offering some warmth and comfort. Something you thought you had definitely lost an hour ago. Muffling your cries in his white sweater, he held you tighter as he too felt his pain, you heard him exhale and breathe in trying to contain his own tears.
After that it was not the same with Four. Two said once that you did what she called a “transfer”. Meaning you were treating Four as your little brother, but it was definitely not like that, it was something else. Something One had prohibit.
Back at the Haunted House in the California desert, you hadn’t slept all the way ‘home’, you busied yourself packing Six stuff and bring them back in your trailer.
One was standing in the cargo plane, in front of the metal storage cabinet, in which each one of us had to store personal effects, will, things like that, if you happened to die.
He handed you Six’s key.
“Hold on to it, will you? he furrowed his eyebrows retrieving his hand, When that mission is over, I’ll open it. Well if I’m still here.”
He nodded understanding.
“I brought him into this, ...”
“… He said there was nothing he’d rather be doing with his life. That prick.” One was oddly compassionate
You shook your head trying to hold back tears, if you hadn’t hack that asshole back in your hometown, your brother wouldn’t be dead. Two’s French saying was in loop in your head, “Avec des si, on mettrait Paris en bouteille” “With Ifs, we could put Paris in a bottle.” but your guilt was still there, hanging tight.  
 Wally’s head on your thighs you couldn’t care less about his drool staining your jean, watching the nightfall on the California desert, the scolding sun giving place to the starry night, the sky virgin of light pollution you could see so much of the vault. Wally barked scaring you and made his way inside. “Ok big guy, good night.”
Passing by the empty pool you sat on one of the old lounge chairs, when you arrived it became your hangout with your brother and Four, even though it was mostly Four’s area. 
Sometimes Five would pass by on her way to the “gym cargo” as they called it. Four would settle on the edge of the bowl, while you lean on a lounge chair, your brother in the bowl tossing a tennis ball to each of you, tonight was the exception, your brother was not here, tears were, only Four didn’t stay on his side. 
He didn’t ask anything, he squished himself between you and the armrest. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, face again his chest you sobbed. Being held by him was foreign at first, only used to your brother’s hugs since you’d left your hometown. As he brushed away your hair from your wet face, you looked at him, his mouth slightly opened, brows furrowed slightly, your hand reached for the crease between it, easing it with the pad of your index, his gaze locking with yours at your gesture. His hand brushed a last strand away, burying itself in your hair. He kissed the same spot on you, lingering, nose nudging his sharp jaw, his breath grazed your cheek. Lips hovering each other’s, there was a flash of hesitation that crossed his features, your lips closed on his before you could think. He tightened his grip on your waist, bringing you closer, your cold fingers brushing his cheek. Suddenly shame struck you.
Jerking away from him, stumbling on your two feet, you pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes. Kissing Four while mourning for your brother felt so wrong.  
“Eight..wh ?”
You cut him “If this is coming out of some misplaced sense of guilt, don’t bother.”
He opened and closed his mouth “What the.., you kissed me Eight ..!”
“I .., your voice wavered, I’m not myself right now… “ You had kissed him first, what were you trying to say, yeah he kissed back but argh the fuck was happening in your head. Avoiding his pained look you turned around, fleeing the situation.
“It’s not, just so you know, some misplaced guilt.” he watched you disappear into the night, your trailer alight few meters away.
Third chapter - A Matter of Seconds 
A/N: don’t forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏
101 notes · View notes