#THIS IS TOO MUCH TOO FAST I COULD NOT BEGIN TO IMAGINE THE DATA COLLECTION PROCEDURE

[therentyoupay]

i have written so much—today, EVERY DAY—for the past two weeks that i have literally just STOPPED TRACKING

I HAVE STOPPED MY DETAILED TRACKING PROCEDURES

STOPPED, I TELL YOU

[natedogx15]

Kamen Rider Deku Mission 15: The Next Phase

Previous Chapter / AO3 / Master List

In one of the office buildings of Deika City's central tower, the Meta Liberation Army executives are meeting about the Kamen Riders. The room is dark, with the only light playing being a projector showing various data they've collected on the Kamen Riders over time.

They're reviewing Deku's performance against Overdrive Nomu and how fast he and the Plus Striker are

"It's impressive that they can have such speed and control to keep up with that Nomu. They're quicker than any of our warriors, I would say." Trumpet says with an intrigued smile as they watch the chase happen.

"Yes. That motorcycle is faster than any support item my company has created. Not only that, it uses the same system as its rider." Re-Destro nods in agreement as the tall man, who recorded him and Giran, pulls up footage of Plus Striker using the Barrier Power Coin.

"It's amazing. I wonder what the capabilities of the system are. It's too bad we can't just take the one wielded by the one Slidin' Go and Shinonome without drawing suspicion. I'd love to see what the inside of such a revolutionary device looks like." Curious says with her usual smile as she watches the different videos.

"I wouldn't mind having our scientists look into them as well. Amazing job as always in collecting data, Skeptic." Re-Destro says while he smiles at the tall man.

"It was a simple task with the resources of Feel Good Industries, Grand Commander." Skeptic nods.

"So, what will our next move be?" Trumpet asks calmly, much to Skeptic's annoyance.

"Obviously, we'll try to find a weakness from the data gathered." He tells Trumpet in a somewhat condescending manner.

Trumpet rolls his eyes at his fellow executive's antics as Re-Destro speaks up.

"That's one of the reasons for this meeting. Another is that I'm having Geten look for a warrior who can wield the proto-type duplicate of the Driver the Kamen Riders use. I was wondering if any of you had any suggestions as well." Re-Destro tells them.

"Unfortunately, I don't know any warriors around me that can wield it." Trumpet tells Re-Destro.

"It's the same for me. I can't think of anyone." Skeptic nods.

The only one not denying it is Curious, who has a finger to her chin as she thinks about those around her.

"I might have someone in mind to test the device and make sure it's safe. He's a rather brave man who works as a security guard at my company. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to test the Driver for our cause. Do you plan to give it to Geten when you know it's safe?" She asks her leader with a smile, causing him to nod.

"Yes. Geten's Meta Ability has already gone through its awakening. Should we give him another way to enhance it, he may even be capable of fighting All Might, and our revolution can happen sooner than initially intended." Re-Destro says with a confident smirk that excites the others.

"Having the next All Might be on the side of our cause would greatly increase our influence. People would believe this was meant to happen and that your ancestor was right from the beginning, Grand Commander." Trumpet says with a pleased smile.

"Imagine how many hearts I could claim for the army by doing a story on Geten's life and his constant training for the Meta Liberation Army's belief. Everyone loves the story of a hard-working underdog whose efforts let them rise to greatness." Curious says happily while imagining publishing the article after Geten's debut and getting the M.L.A. more recruits.

Skeptic doesn't say anything but smiles at the prospect of their revolution taking off quicker with far more firepower than expected.

"Yes, yes. That's all perfect. However, we mustn't get carried away. We don't know how strong that device is or if it will help Geten's Meta Ability." Re-Destro chastizes the revolution leaders.

The leaders calm themselves from their excitement, and Re-Destro continues.

"Now, we have a good amount of information on each of the powers the Kamen Riders have used. Deku seems to be the most well-rounded of the group, with abilities that work to enhance his already incredible abilities along with long-range attacks, such as this Petrification Power Finish." Re-Destro states while the scene of Deku using the Solidification Power Coin against Overdrive Nomu is shown.

"On the other hand, Chamber is a mainly long-range Kamen Rider but does seem to have a mid-range form that relies on invisibility or camouflage," Re-Destro states while images of both Chamber's forms appear for the executives to see.

"Finally, the Kamen Rider we're trying to get on our side. King Explosion Murder." Re-Destro says as Katsuki's image appears onscreen along with his Kamen Rider form.

"From what Slidin' Go has told me, trying to get him on our side has been difficult. He has his mind set on only becoming the number one hero and isn't interested in anything else. All he cares about is the chance to be seen as the strongest." Skeptic states.

"Yes. He's a wild card but is also one of our more promising candidates for new warriors if his history at Aldera is anything to go by. He's apparently smart and has a lot of natural talent. With his Meta Ability, he'd make him the perfect warrior and possibly give him a chance to usurp Geten's position as the strongest warrior to our cause. Especially if we can get him to join us while he's wielding the Driver." Re-Destro states while holding up a file of Katsuki given to him by the Aldera Middle and Aldera High School principals.

"The problem is how we can get him to side with us. And how to do it without drawing suspicion to us." Trumpet nods.

"Exactly. Slidin' Go has told me his teachings haven't been going well. Luckily, from what I've been told, he likely won't hesitate to attack the other Kamen Riders when given the chance again." Re-Destro tells them with a smile.

"That's comforting to know. Even if he's not a part of our cause yet, he's still willing to help us by weakening the other two." Trumpet says with a content smile of his own.

"Yes. That's why I believe the key to our victory is to separate the Kamen Riders so two will be in one place. We'll give our wildcard the chance to take his anger out on the other Kamen Riders while forcing another to fight alone." Re-Destro explains.

"So, we're going to have our wildcard battle one of the Kamen Riders and soften them up for us?" The only female executive asks with a cheerful smile, much to Skeptic's annoyance.

"Obviously. The real question is, who do we make fight the Nomu, and who will fight our Kamen Rider?" He tells her.

This question causes the executives to fall silent as they think about the best course of action.

"Wouldn't it be best to have Deku face off against K.E.M. since his history with Deku made Shinonome choose him?" Trumpet asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Plus, since Chamber is a long-range specialist, it may be easier to handle him with a Nomu than Deku. We can just find someone with a speed Quirk who will easily close the distance against him." Curious states in agreement.

However, Skeptic has other plans.

"I say the one we should make fight King Explosion Murder is Chamber. Lately, they've been at each other's throats more than King Explosion Murder and Deku. Also, Chamber has displayed more experience and tactical thinking, constantly putting himself in a position where his range gives him the advantage. Let's not forget about his new form." Skeptic states calmly.

Re-Destro doesn't say anything as his executives discuss what to do. He can see their points and isn't sure what to do. Finally, after a few minutes of debate, he makes his decision.

-------------------

In Hisashi and David's lab, the two put the final touches on the fourth Hero Driver to ensure it's running right.

"Looks like everything's running right. Get some of the test Power Coins ready so we can test the power output of the nanotech." David tells Hisashi as he sets the Hero Driver on a table with multiple scanners.

Hisashi nods and goes toward a cabinet. He opens it to reveal different sets of Power Coins. He quickly takes a few and heads toward the Hero Driver. He quickly inserts one, and David checks the real-time data it's displaying from the scanners.

"Everything looks good for emitters," David tells him.

Hisashi nods and inserts another.

"Transformation looks good too." David nods.

Moving onto the last one, Hisashi inserts it, and David frowns when he sees that data.

"Something seems off with the mutant-type Quirks. The output is a little sporadic." David warns Hisashi, who frowns in response.

"Let me see," Hisashi says while walking toward David to see the problem.

Just as David says, the power output being shown is moving at a sporadic rate.

"Huh. Well, it's not like we didn't expect this. Mutant Quirks are the most difficult to copy since they have a more permanent effect over the other two types." Hisashi mutters as he tries to figure out where the problem may lie.

"True. We may have to re-check the analyzer again. It may just be a small glitch like last time." David nods as he types a few things on the computer.

Hisashi groans in annoyance when he hears that.

"I can't believe people will want to mass-produce these eventually. It takes so much time to finish one of them. Plus, it takes laser surgeon-like precision to guarantee that it works." Hisashi grunts as he prepares to open the Hero Driver. 

"Well, you know people. They always want more." David laughs as he walks over to help Hisashi.

"Don't I know it? Plenty of the heroes I've made equipment for always wanted me to improve the design of something I made for them so they have a better chance to get up in the rankings." Hisashi says, annoyance clear in his tone.

"We can probably develop a mass-production model by cutting back on some things," David tells him.

"Probably. We'll work on the design later after we finish working on the Hero Drivers." Hisashi tells him.

-------------------

While plots are being formed, Izuku and Shiki are with Toshinori for their usual beach training. Compared to the beginning, Izuku is showing clear improvements in physical ability by continuing to lift various medium-sized pieces of trash like Shiki. Shiki isn't far behind in growth, either.

"So, how have things been with you?" Shiki asks as he carries a refrigerator door off the beach next to Izuku, who's holding a beaten-up trashcan.

"They've been going good. I'm starting to get used to everything, I think." He tells Shiki.

"That's good. I'm glad you're getting used to everything. It'll make things easier when we try out for U.A." Shiki nods before setting the door in Toshinori's truck.

Izuku's eyes widen at the reminder of U.A.

"That's right. I've been so busy that I forgot the entrance exam will be in a few months. It's a good thing I already sent in my application." Izuku thinks in relief as he follows Shiki's lead and sets the trashcan in the truck.

After doing this, he looks toward the horizon.

"It feels weird. After everything I've been through these last couple of months, the idea of the entrance exams doesn't feel as scary. In fact, I'm looking forward to it." Izuku thinks with a smile.

"You realize we can't use our Kamen Rider forms for it, right?" Shiki randomly asks Izuku, causing his brain to pause.

"What?" Izuku asks in confusion.

Shiki continues, thinking Izuku wasn't listening to him.

"We can't use our Kamen Rider forms. We don't want people spreading rumors that the Kamen Riders weren't even in a hero school when they started saving people. We can use other things like our weapons, but not the armor." Shiki states to Izuku.

Suddenly, Izuku's bravado disappears as he realizes it'll be up to his physical abilities without being transformed. He crouches and begins to mumble to himself about the possibilities. Shiki sweatdrops at this reaction.

"Did I say something wrong? I thought he already knew. Did he really think we could use the form for an exam where people can see us and tell everyone?" Shiki questions in his mind as he stares at Izuku.

"Are you okay?" Shiki awkwardly asks as he stares at the panicking Izuku.

"What am I going to do? Will I be able to handle the exam without my body being enhanced? I'll be the only one between us to fail, and All Might will hate me because I took up the precious time he could have used to save people." Izuku continues to mutter as he thinks about multiple bad scenarios.

Shiki's sweatdrop grows when he sees his partner's reaction to his question.

"I kind of feel bad now." Shiki thinks before trying to shake Izuku out of his stupor.

"Hey. Calm down. You still have a good chance of getting in without the armor." Shiki tells his friend as he finally wakes Izuku up.

"R-really?" Izuku asks hopefully as he looks at Shiki as if he's on the verge of crying.

"Yes. We can still use weapons like the Power Blade, and we have another advantage most people don't." Shiki tells him to try and cheer the teen up.

"What?" Izuku asks curiously, and Shiki motions toward Toshinori. Who is currently going over something on his phone and not paying attention to them.

"We're being trained by All Might himself. That's something most people, especially our age, can say. Not only that, we're also getting real experience. That's something only vigilantes have over other applicants." Shiki tells him.

Izuku thinks about Shiki's words before realizing he's right. Most applicants for a hero school have little to no experience unless they break the law by becoming vigilantes or have a hero in their family since those family members can often help them train. He and Shiki would have a clear advantage in the U.A. exam due to their experience as Kamen Riders.

"You're right. But we don't have Quirks either. That could be a problem still." Izuku tells him.

"We're not going up against Nomu during the exam. Our weapons and training should be more than enough." Shiki tells him with a calm shrug.

Izuku still looks unsure, and Shiki sighs.

"We'll be fine, Midoriya," Shiki reassures him.

"Quite right. You two can handle anything that comes your way with proper training and by sticking together." Toshinori tells them as he walks toward them, having heard only the end of their conversation.

The two turn toward their teacher as he smiles at them.

"I want you two to remember. Heroes often work together to accomplish a common goal, even if they have to compete for attention. Teamwork is important for heroes so the people will feel safe with them around." Toshinori tells the two.

Izuku and Shiki nod at his words, causing Toshinori's smile to widen.

"Good. Now, back to your training. Time waits for no one." Toshinori orders while pointing toward the beach.

With a sigh, the two quickly get back to work. As they do, they're both thinking about their futures.

"I can't believe the entrance exam is only a few months away. Am I really ready for it?" Despite Shiki's best efforts, Izuku is still nervous about his chances, given the acceptance percentage of U.A.

On the other hand, Shiki has a determined glare and seems to be pushing himself a little more than before.

"I'm going to get into U.A. I have to. The best way to become a strong hero is to go there." Shiki thinks while lifting another large piece of garbage and power-walking toward Toshinori's truck.

Toshinori watches the two work and can't help but smile at their progress.

"Both of them are showing real signs of change. One of them might be worthy to inherit my title." Toshinori thinks as he keeps a close eye on the two.

He then looks at his palm before clenching it into a fist.

"I'm running out of time. I can barely keep my strength up for a few hours now. I may need to choose a successor soon." Toshinori thinks with an angry scowl.

"Hopefully, I can finish him off before I run out of time. I'm sure he's still alive. The Nomu prove that." Thinking along those lines causes the scar on his torso to start acting up with phantom pains, and he winches.

"I shouldn't have let him get to me. The suffering and Nomu are my fault. I can't leave it to the next generation." Toshinori thinks with a tone of finality before returning to observing his students.

He watches as Shiki determinedly puts more pieces of trash in his truck while Izuku seems to be moving somewhat sluggishly like he's thinking about something.

"They don't deserve to suffer for my mistake." Toshinori thinks.

-------------------

Days after that, Slidin' Go is on his phone with Skeptic.

"That is our current plan for the Kamen Riders," Skeptic informs him about the executive's plans.

"Alright. I'll try to make sure Bakugou works with one of the other Kamen Riders." Slidin' Go nods, knowing his boss doesn't like it when he asks questions.

"Good," Skeptic says before hanging up.

Slidin' Go sighs as he looks at his phone while rubbing the back of his head.

"How am I supposed to do that when neither wants to be near him and are usually together? It's more likely that they'll already be near each other." Slidin' Go mutters as he tries to figure out how to separate Deku and Chamber.

"This is going to be tough." Slidin' Go complains before sighing and getting to work.

-------------------

Somewhere else, Izuku and Shiki are heading to school on Izuku's Plus Striker.

"So, are you feeling better about the entrance exams?" Shiki asks while holding onto Izuku.

"I-I think so. I think you're right. We do have a good chance of getting into U.A.," Izuku tells him with a nod.

"It's not like we can aim for anything lower. Most schools with a hero course have a ban on people without Quirks even trying out. Besides, we'll likely get into the General Studies Course. So, we'll have the chance to get into the Hero Course later on." Shiki explains to him.

"Wow, you know a lot about this." Izuku can't help but praise his friend.

Sure, he's a hero nerd. But his hobby usually involved studying different heroes and their Quirks. Of course, he's kept up with other hero subjects, such as schools. But U.A. was more secretive and protective with their curriculum since it's the best school in Japan for heroics.

"It comes with being the grandson of the Hero Public Safety Commission chairman. I learned a lot that others don't about heroics. And I do mean a lot." Shiki states calmly while checking to make sure his helmet is secure.

"Really?" Izuku asks excitedly.

"Yeah. I might know more than you. Hard to say, though. I've heard you are a heavy hero nerd." Shiki tells him with a shrug.

Hearing this makes Izuku more excited about talking to Shiki. However, something comes to his mind when he keeps hearing Shiki discuss his grandfather instead of his parents.

"Hey, Hikage. What are your parents like? I've only seen you're grandfather, and they weren't at your apartment when I visited." Izuku asks curiously.

Unknown to Izuku, Shiki winches when he hears that but answers anyway.

"They're not around that much. They're both heroes that travel often." Shiki tells Izuku calmly.

"That's cool. What are their names? Maybe I've heard of them." Izuku says excitedly.

"I'll tell you later. We're almost to school now. So, we don't have time if you want to fanboy over them." Shiki quickly states as he sees the school in the distance.

"Alright." Izuku nods.

-------------------

Unknown to the two, the Meta Liberation Army is about to begin their latest plan.

"I'm in position." A male warrior with a shaved head, slightly tanned skin, and brown eyes says into an earpiece.

The man is wearing a black shirt with a skull, blue jeans, and black boots that go a bit above the ankles.

"Good. You sure you're Meta Ability will be able to separate the Kamen Riders when you see them?" A feminine voice asks into his earpiece.

"Yeah. It should work without a problem. I've practiced with it before we got here and have a pretty good idea of how it works." The man states.

"Good. I'll be ready to pounce on them as soon as we see them." The female voice nods.

The man doesn't say anything and looks toward a roof where a woman with long black hair, pale skin, green reptile-like eyes, and skin-colored scales around her cheeks. She's dressed in a long-sleeve black shirt with diagonal dark green stripes, turquoise green jeans, and beige flats.

Seeing she's up there. The man takes a deep breath and starts morphing into his Nomu form.

The man's Nomu form gives him pitch-black skin with a grey belly and legs. His face elongates into a reptile-like one as his skull separates to reveal his brain, and his eyes turn golden. Purple pants replace his clothes as his body bulks until he can dwarf Death Arms, and he seems to grow a tail. Finally, purple scales that wouldn't look out of place on a stegosaurus grow from his back to the end of his tail.

With his transformation done, the man growls like a predator in the wild before charging out of his hiding place and slamming into an oncoming car. The driver screams in a panic and quickly gets out as Stego Nomu picks the vehicle up and throws it at another one.

"Bring me the Kamen Riders!" Stego Nomu screams at the top of his lungs before getting on all fours, and the scales on his back and tail fire in different directions. The scales pierce through anything in their path like a spear through paper, and Stego Nomu regrows his scales instantly to perform a rapid fire of this.

When the two un-transformed Kamen Riders see this, Izuku immediately skids them to a halt while Shiki has to duck to avoid getting his head cut off.

"Get us somewhere to hide! Now!" Shiki shouts in alarm as he sees Stego Nomu's scales regrow, and he's about to fire another volley.

Izuku quickly turns on the gas and drives them toward a corner they passed before to get out of Stego Nomu's line of sight. After turning that corner, Izuku lets up, and the two park. It takes a little bit for them to get their bearings from the sudden Nomu, though.

"Okay. Do these guys have nothing better to do? That was way too close for comfort." Shiki says as he puts a hand to his heart to try and calm it down.

Izuku isn't in better shape. He's shaking a bit from the shock as he tries to relax. After a few moments, the two calm their nerves. When they do, they see most people are busy doing their own thing or heading toward where the screaming is to see the heroes fight.

"Looks like we have room to transform," Shiki tells Izuku before the two duck behind a truck and pull out their Hero Drivers.

They insert their respective Power Coins simultaneously and cause their Hero Drivers to sync with the other as they announce.

"Rabbit + Quirkless, blank match/Rifle + Quirkless, blank match."

Following the synchronization of their Hero Drivers, the two turn the keys simultaneously without realizing it. Causing smoke to envelop them both.

"JUMP, JUMP, REACH FOR THE MOON, JUMPING RABBIT/READY, AIM; I'VE GOT YOU IN MY SIGHTS, SNIPER RIFLE!"

When the smoke clears, both Kamen Riders are ready.

"Kamen Rider Deku/Chamber!"

That announcement draws a few eyes in their direction.

"It's the Kamen Riders!" Someone says excitedly.

"Go take that villain down!" Another person says.

"Go, heroes!" A young boy says happily as the Kamen Riders run past them.

As soon as Stego Nomu sees the two, he grins.

"Perfect. They're here." He says into his earpiece.

"I see that. Make sure to separate them." The woman orders.

"You're finally here, Kamen Riders. You're about to be destroyed by the dino might of Stegogai." The newly named Stegogai announces before charging toward the Kamen Riders, slamming any vehicle in his path to the side as he does so.

The Kamen Riders see him coming, and Chamber fires upon Stegogai with his wrist-mounted guns while Deku equips the Mighty Knuckle. However, the bullets don't seem to slow Stegogai down. He continues to charge toward them while raising his fists above his head. Seeing that the attacks aren't working, Deku runs toward Stegogai with the Mighty Knuckle ready to deliver a punch.

"I need to dive in close to hit him." Deku thinks as he and Stegogai are about to meet.

But before he can meet Stegogai, the dinosaur-themed Nomu slams his fists into the ground and causes the earth around him to move like waves in the ocean. This attack sends Deku flying and pushes him and Chamber to opposite sides of the street as Stegogai stands before them.

Chamber shakes his head and moves to stand up. Before he can, though, he feels talons latch onto his shoulders before picking him up and quickly bringing him into the air. After taking a second to get over the shock of his current situation, Chamber looks behind him to see a feminine Nomu who looks like a pterodactyl is the one carrying him off the ground.

"Sorry. But we can't have you two work together. But don't worry. I'll let you have a partner for our playtime. You can call me Terra Swoop, by the way. As you might have guessed, we're here to take you down." The Nomu says in a mischievous and slightly sadistic tone as she increases their speed to get him further away from Deku before either Kamen Rider can try anything to stop her.

Deku sees Chamber being taken away as he recovers and screams.

"Chamber!"

He gets up and is about to equip his Power Blade to fire upon Terra Swoop before getting slammed into a building by Stegogai.

"No, you don't. You and I will be fighting mano a mano while my friend deals with him." Stegogai says confidently before grabbing Deku's leg and throwing him into a car across the street.

Stegogai follows this up by getting on all fours and charging toward Deku. As he does, he fires the top spines on his back at the prone Kamen Rider. Deku barely looks up in time to see them and pull himself out of the way. He then has to jump back to avoid Stegogai's charge but gets hit with a tail swing before he can do anything else.

Deku groans as he crashes to the ground again.

"Wow. This guy is fast for his size. He's strong, too. He's using his Quirks amazingly. I can't even tell which is his real Quirk." Deku thinks before finding his leg getting grabbed again.

Not wanting history to repeat itself, Deku quickly uses the Mighty Knuckle to punch the arm holding his leg before Stegogai can lift him too far off the ground. The force from the punch causes Stegogai to let him go and take a couple of steps back while rubbing his hand.

"Man. You do pack a punch. No wonder the other guys couldn't get the job done if only one of you packed that much power." Stegogai says in slight irritation as the pain starts to subside.

Deku quickly takes advantage of Stegogai's shock to distance himself from Stegogai and regain his bearings.

"Good. I managed to get away from him, and the Mighty Knuckle can hurt him on its own. If it's like this, I can probably beat him if I keep moving. Should I run toward the Plus Striker, just in case?" He wonders in his mind as he raises his fists in a fighting stance.

"I was hoping this job wouldn't be too easy. It wouldn't do us any good if the Kamen Riders were weak. Besides, it's more fun to beat the crap out of someone to get what you want." Stegogai says as he cracks his knuckles before charging toward Deku.

-------------------

With Chamber and Terra Swoop. The Kamen Rider is struggling to get away from the pterodactyl-like Nomu. However, every time he tries something like shooting her or reaching for his Power Coins, she maneuvers herself to stop him by suddenly diving, corkscrewing, looping, or letting her hold go to grab another part of his body.

After some time, she releases him and throws him into the window of a school building. When Chamber collects himself, he sees that he's in a classroom. More specifically, Katsuki's classroom.

"Woah!"

"What's happening?"

"It's a Kamen Rider!" Someone shouts excitedly.

"Awesome!"

"Wait. He was thrown through a window. Is a Nomu here?"

As his classmates start panicking, Katsuki growls at how Chamber is thrown into his classroom before running out of the room. Luckily, Slidin' Go gave him some lee-way today and let him keep the Hero Driver on him. But while having the chance to turn into a Kamen Rider is nice, it annoys him that he has to hide to transform and can't show that he's the best to the extras around him.

Back with Chamber, he's standing up but doesn't have a chance to do anything else as Terra Swoop flies through the hole she made with him and slams beak first into him, causing the windows and wall behind him to break as they leave the classroom and he lands in the school's track field.

"What's the matter, Kamen Rider? Can't get your feet off the ground? I thought you could fly. I guess I was wrong. I'll bet I was wrong about your aim too." Terra Swoop mocks him as she flies in place by flapping her wings.

Chamber glares when he hears this and equips the Ultra Magnum. He tries to hit her, but Terra Swoop quickly soars out of the bullets' paths, and Chamber has trouble keeping up with her speed. He soon hits the ground again when Terra Swoop divebombs him again and crashes into his chest.

"Looks like I was right about your aim being terrible." She mocks again before needing to dodge an explosion courtesy of the school's resident secret hero.

"Die!" He shouts as he uses his explosions to propel after the Nomu.

Despite his best efforts, he can't keep up with Terra Swoop. That doesn't stop him, though. All it does is anger him more, which he uses to fuel himself and continue chasing her while trying to figure out how to catch her.

As K.E.M. tries to catch Terra Swoop, Chamber gets up and looks through his Power Coins for something to help him shoot her down. After a second, he chooses his new go-to Power Coin, the Dragonfly Power Coin, and inserts it into the Ultra Magnum.

"Dragonfly Power Finish!" The Hero Driver announces as Chamber fires bullets with sporadic flight patterns at K.E.M. and Terra Swoop.

Terra Swoop sees these incoming bullets and secretly smirks.

"Time to put the plan into action. Let's see how you like this." Terra Swoop thinks as she concentrates on the bullets while K.E.M. is charging behind her.

As the bullets are about to surround and pierce Terra Swoop, they suddenly change flight paths and fly toward K.E.M.

K.E.M. is shocked at the sudden shift and is hit by the bullets in full force, causing him to crash to the ground while Terra Swoop charges toward a shocked Chamber. She slams into him and drags him across the ground before she picks him up and soars straight up. She then dives back down and sends Chamber flying into K.E.M.

"Get off me, you useless shit!" K.E.M. shouts as he kicks Chamber off him.

Chamber grunts as he gets up while glaring at K.E.M. and trying to figure out what happened. However, he doesn't have long, as K.E.M. grabs and lifts him off the ground.

"What was that, you worthless fuck? You shot me instead of the Nomu!" He shouts into Chamber's face with a tone full of venom.

"I don't know. It must be one of her Quirks. I was aiming to take her out." Chamber tells him as he pushes K.E.M. off him.

Their fight amuses Terra Swoop before choosing to end it by diving toward them again. The two Kamen Riders don't notice her until she's close to them and don't have time to avoid the hit.

From the ground, Chamber growls and fires at Terra Swoop with her wrist-mounted guns. Luckily, one of the bullets managed to hit her, causing her to falter slightly.

"Why, you little." She grunts in slight pain and surprise as Chamber continues to fire at her.

-------------------

Back with Deku, he's currently ducking under a punch from Stegogai before delivering an uppercut to Stegogai's chin. However, the Nomu sees this coming and quickly intercepts the punch by grabbing Deku's arm before throwing him to the side.

Not wanting to stay on the ground long, Deku quickly springs back to his feet by running forward to keep out of Stegogai's grip. He turns around just in time to see Stegogai, with his back turned to him, about to fire his spines at the Kamen Rider.

Seeing this, Deku instinctively reaches for his Power Coins and manages to pull out the Barrier Power Coin and insert it into the Mighty Knuckle.

"Barrier Slam Finish!" The Hero Driver shouts as Deku slams the Mighty Knuckle into the ground to create a green barrier around him that blocks the incoming spines while they crack the barrier upon impact.

Stegogai turns around in time to see the barrier dissipate and glares at the Kamen Rider.

"Alright. You're as annoyingly tough as they said you were. But you won't be able to beat my combination of Meta Abilities." The stegosaurus Nomu tells him as he prepares to charge again, not knowing that his words cause Deku's eyes to widen in surprise.

"He's referring to his Quirks as Meta Abilities, too, like with the Paper Nomu." Deku thinks as he jumps over Stegogai, causing the Nomu to crash into the wall behind him.

He then follows this up by charging at him and delivering a strike to Stegogai's butt, with the Mighty Knuckle, pushing him deeper into the wall.

"Why, you little," Stegogai growls as he gets up and turns toward the Kamen Rider.

Only to be met with a boot to the face courtesy of a dropkick from Deku before the Kamen Rider uses his face to jump back again. The full-body kick causes Stegogai to stagger back while holding his face in pain.

"Good. It looks like I'm doing some damage to him without the Power Coins." Seeing this makes Deku happy, knowing he's not as weak as he first thought due to the damage done already, even if it's only minor.

However, his happiness is short-lived when Stegogai throws a table near him at Deku and sends him crashing into the concrete. Stegogai then follows it up by charging at Deku and jumping to try and land on him with the entirety of his weight. Deku sees this and panics before rolling to the side. The force behind Stegogai's landing leaves cracks in the concrete.

Deku quickly gets off the ground while equipping the Power Blade in his other hand. He then turns the blade and grip around so the gun muzzle is pointing behind the blade.

He charges at Stegogai and slashes at Stegogai. The blade doesn't cut into Stegogai's tough skin, but Deku doesn't give up. He quickly pulls the trigger on the Power Blade and uses the extra force from the gunshot to force the Power Blade into Stegogai's skin.

Stegogai grunts and quickly slams the arm Deku is cutting into him, sending the Kamen Rider skidding a few feet back. He tries to follow this up with a straight, using his other arm, but Deku ducks under this attack and launches his own punch with the Mighty Knuckle. The force from the weapon sends Stegogai skidding back before he falls forward and gets on all fours. He then launches the top spines at Deku to stop him from getting too close.

Deku instinctively jumps in the air to avoid the shots, but that opens him up for the other spines on Stegogai's back and tail. Deku tries to use his arms to block the attacks, but it doesn't help much, and he falls on his side in pain.

Stegogai takes this chance to charge at him. Luckily, Deku is one step ahead of him this time. While in the air, he reached into his Power Coin holder and pulled out a Power Coin before hitting the ground.

He inserts that Power Coin into the Power Blade, causing the Hero Driver to shout.

"Swamp Power Finish!"

Deku quickly slams the blade of his sword into the ground and the ground before it starts turning into sludgy water, heading toward Stegogai in a wide arc. The Nomu doesn't have time to dodge it and finds his feet stuck.

"Really, A makeshift tar pit since I'm a dinosaur? Too bad for you. This dinosaur has a way to fight against it." Stegogai says as he slams his hands into the muddy water.

This causes ripples within it before it explodes and goes everywhere, freeing him. Deku stares in shock as that move has hardly failed him besides when Overdrive Nomu jumped over it.

"Surprised? We've studied your moves and worked out good ways to counter them. All for the glory of our revolution. You won't be able to beat me with your usual tactics. I can easily break out of any trap you set. Even if it's that weird ability where you petrify someone." Stegogai says while pointing toward Deku with a confident tone.

Hearing this causes Deku to tense up.

"Wait. If they've studied my moves, does that mean they studied Hikage's too?" He thinks, suddenly even more worried about his friend after he was taken away.

"You don't have time to be thinking about other things. Especially since I'm done playing around." Stegogai says before slamming his hand on the ground again and sending a wave of earth at Deku.

Seeing this causes Deku to jump to the side, but Stegogai already predicted that. He got on all fours and fired the top spikes on his back at the hero, hitting him in the arm and causing him to drop the Power Blade in pain. Stegogai follows this up by charging while still on all fours and slamming into Deku, sending him flying into another lamp post.

Deku groans as he gets up and reaches for another Power Coin to try something else. In desperation, he pulls out the Draco-Breath Power Coin and inserts it without realizing what it is.

"Dragonic Breath Power Finish!" The Hero Driver announces as the Mighty Knuckle is covered in flames while glowing orange as Deku charges at Stegogai.

He throws his fist forward, and Stegogai is sent staggering back from the impact while there are slight burns in a knuckle outline where he was punched. However, it doesn't look like he took any substantial damage.

"Now that had some sting to it. But it's not enough to get through my skin." Stegogai grunts before charging and trying to punch Deku.

Deku moves to the side, but Stegogai follows it up by spinning and slamming into Deku with his tail.

Deku manages to stay on his feet and reach into his holder for another Power Coin.

"Division Power Finish!" The Hero Driver shouts as Deku inserts the Division Power Coin.

"I haven't used this one yet." Deku thinks as he charges forward and throws another punch.

As the Mighty Knuckle soars toward Stegogai, energy fists suddenly appear around Deku's arm to launch multiple punches simultaneously, each with equal force to the last. The strength of these punches sends Stegogai flying into the ground and causes his scales to get stuck in the concrete.

"Damn it," Stegogai grunts as he tries to get up.

But he's positioned in a way that he can't reach the ground with his arms and legs that well. He can't put enough power into his attempts. Deku sees this and decides to try and finish things.

He pulls out the Rabbit Power Coin and inserts it into the Hero Driver instead of his weapon.

"RABBIT POWER FINISH!" The Hero Driver shouts as energy builds around Deku, and he charges forward.

He jumps into the air and tries to deliver a flying kick to the trapped Nomu. However, Stegogai suddenly rolls backward while his scales remain stuck in the ground. When Deku crashes into the ground, a small explosion and the earth around him is destroyed.

Unfortunately, it doesn't do much to Stegogai, and he takes advantage of Deku's opening to send another wave of earth at him and send him flying.

"I can't believe you fell for that. I told you, we studied all your moves." Stegogai laughs as he looks at the downed Kamen Rider.

Deku groans as Stegogai charges and tries to jump on him.

-------------------

With K.E.M. and Chamber, the two are having trouble dealing with Terra Swoop and each other. Chamber is being targeted after one of his bullets managed to hit her and her orders.

Currently, Chamber is trying to hit Terra Swoop with his wrist-mounted guns, but she is nimbly avoiding them with the ease of a hummingbird changing directions. Luckily, Chamber has started to adapt to her speed and is avoiding more of her strikes than before.

On the other hand, K.E.M. is trying to chase after her in the air but is getting hit by a few of Chamber's stray bullets for some reason. Needless to say, the two are starting to clash from their situation.

"Will you fucking quit shooting with the pea shooters! You're doing nothing helpful and getting in my way!" K.E.M. shouts at Chamber.

"Maybe if you would stop getting close to her, my bullets wouldn't be at risk of hitting you. I'm trying to figure out what she's doing!" Chamber shouts back with a bit of sharpness in his tone.

"It's obvious this bitch is manipulating your bullets! Quit making my job harder, Pompadour!" K.E.M. screams back as he tries to swipe at Terra Swoop, only for her to move out of the way.

Chamber grits his teeth but realizes that K.E.M. is right and decides to switch things around. He quickly grabs the Chameleon Power Coin and inserts it into his Hero Driver.

"You can't see me? Where am I? I'm on the wall! I've got you in my sights!" The Hero Driver shouts as smoke covers Chamber while he transforms.

"Kamen Rider Chamber!" It says with a tone of finality as Chamber switches forms.

Terra Swoop dives toward Chamber, but he vanishes before she hits him. As she's trying to gain altitude again, a whip suddenly wraps around her wing, and she's pulled toward the ground, causing her to skid across it from her previous momentum.

"You bastard!" Terra Swoop shouts as she gets up and instinctively looks around for the Kamen Rider that sent her crashing to the ground, only not to see him.

While she's doing that, the other Kamen Rider comes diving in and slams into her with a double palm-generated explosion that shakes the ground slightly. Seeing this causes Chamber to drop the camouflage a fair distance from the two as he waits for the smoke to clear.

However, Terra Swoop flies back into the air as if nothing happened, shocking the Kamen Riders.

Before she can see him from above, Chamber quickly camouflages himself again while K.E.M. chases after her. However, Chamber's action wasn't enough for him to completely escape her view. Having the features of a flying predator, her eyesight is enhanced exponentially. So she can distinguish the shifts in coloring and movement from Chamber's camouflage.

She charges at the area where she notices the shifting, and Chamber barely has time to jump over her attack. However, that doesn't stop him from getting hit by K.E.M., who chased after her. The impact causes Chamber to lose his camouflage while the two crash.

"Get off me," Chamber tells him as he kicks K.E.M. off him before needing to duck under another attack from Terra Swoop.

"Quit getting in the way!" K.E.M. shouts at Chamber, getting sick of the other Kamen Rider constantly messing him up.

"That was your fault. You're the one that keeps charging after someone you obviously can't catch!" Chamber shouts back at him.

"Like your fucking bullets are helping Pompadour. You've been hitting me more than you've been hitting Prehistoric Bitch!" K.E.M. screeches.

Terra Swoop sees their argument and secretly grins when she realizes the plan is working.

"Now for a quick disappearing act." Terra Swoop says before flying off at top speed before the Kamen Riders realize she's gone.

It takes longer than you should have for them to realize this. And when they do, K.E.M. pushes Chamber away while growling.

"This is your fucking fault, Pompadour! I could have handled that bastard without you! You and your worthless aim!" K.E.M. screams.

"My aim was fine. Whatever Quirks that Nomu had was the problem. And what about you? You uselessly chased after her when you couldn't catch her." Chamber tells him.

K.E.M. growls, but Chamber isn't done.

"Then again, that's all you can do, seeing as you don't bother collecting Power Coins like you're supposed to. Instead of keeping them on you just in case, you go out of your way to destroy them. So, you're nothing but a one-trick pony." Chamber tells him with an edge in his tone.

Hearing this causes K.E.M. to growl.

"At least I can make better fucking use of this stupid thing than you. You're nothing but a Quirkless reject who got lucky! If your grandfather weren't in such a high fucking position, no one would give a shit about you like Deku!" K.E.M. snaps at Chamber, causing the Kamen Rider to tighten his fist.

"I'm using the Hero Driver better than you. If I remember right, I almost beat you at the docks." Chamber snaps back, causing K.E.M. to growl.

"I didn't fucking lose to you!" K.E.M. snarls back before going for an explosive palm and sending Chamber flying to the ground.

Chamber has enough of K.E.M.'s attitude and launches his whip at the other Kamen Rider, sending him skidding back.

-------------------

Back with Deku. He's running from Stegogai and trying to reach the Plus Striker for extra help since Chamber hasn't returned and K.E.M. is nowhere to be seen.

"I need help to beat him." Deku thinks as he pulls the Unicorn Power Coin off the Plus Striker's Power Coin holder and inserts it.

The Plus Striker quickly turns into its mechanical animal form and throws Deku atop it before running from the charging Stegogai.

"Get back here!" Stegogai snaps at the Kamen Rider and steed before firing his scales at them.

However, the Plus Striker turns around and fires lightning bolts at the attacks, stopping them and causing them to fall harmlessly. It then takes it a step further by charging at Stegogai. As it does, Deku pulls out another Power Coin and inserts it into the Plus Striker.

"Overdrive Power Charge!" The Hero Driver announces as light blue energy surrounds the Plus Striker and its power and speed increase.

With the increased momentum, the Plus Striker tries to slam into Stegogai. However, the Nomu quickly uses his other ability to make a wave of earth rise between them to reduce the damage. The Plus Striker runs through it and slams into the Nomu, sending him flying but not turning him back to normal.

"Alright." Deku thinks happily, but before he can do anything else, he suddenly feels something slam into him and knock him off the Plus Striker.

He looks up to see what hit him and sees Terra Swoop staring down at him while holding a struggling Plus Striker.

"It's your turn to see what it's like to be hunted." Terra Swoop says excitedly as Stegogai stands up.

Deku looks between the two Nomu and backs away nervously while they close in on him. As he's getting cornered, he worries about what happened to Chamber while wondering what he'll do.

Power Coins Deku Rabbit, Draco-Breath, Charge, Marsh, Solidification, Unicorn, Overdrive, Wheels, Division, Bull, Barrier, Creation, Razor Edge, Mantis

Chamber Rifle, Fierce Wings, Shadow Stalk, Gatling, Chameleon, Dragonfly, Sonar, Burrowing Drill, Sprouting

King Explosion Murder Explosion

Next Chapter

[the-marshals-wife]

Hello, Hiya, and Good Evening! I saw that you are open for taking requests and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a Bad Batch Imagine with Hunter X FemReader Fluff? I absolutely adore him and would love to see your take on him. I don't have anything specific cause I know that you'll come up something perfect! Thank you!

Watch Your Step (Hunter x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Ask and you shall receive! This one is inspired in part by some fan art I’ve seen in the community that I 100% endorse as canon. You’ll see what I mean. ;)

Description: Hunter x Fem!Reader, fluff with a little ✨spice✨ | Warnings: a little sensuality, shirtless Hunter you're welcome, Star Wars swear words| Setting: pre-TCW Season 7 | Word count: 1,992 | Gif credit: user kamino-coruscant

You had a long list of planets you wanted to visit before you died. Takodana was in the top ten. But why oh why did you have to visit in the middle of the hottest summer they’d had there in over a century?

That’s what you wondered for the thousandth time as you paced back and forth along the perimeter of the squad’s temporary camp.

“If you keep trudging like that, you’ll make a ditch,” Echo called out, watching from a nearby log.

“And then I’ll lay down in it and drown in my sweat,” you exhale, wiping your brow in vain.

“That is unlikely,” Tech interjected, not bothering to look up from his data pad, “It would take a considerable amount of time to collect enough perspiration to drown in. You would die from heat stroke and dehydration much quicker.”

You slow your stride, pausing to exchange exhausted looks with Echo.

“Thank you for clearing that up, Tech,” Echo sighed.

“You are welcome.”

You shake your head, too drained to argue further with the articulate clone.

Wrecker, who up until this point had been an unmoving mass on the ground, lifted his head with a groan, “When is the Sarge going to come back? How long does it take to look for water? I’m melting here!”

“Quit complaining, Wrecker,” Crosshair murmured.

He leaned back against a tree in the shade, eyes shut, seemingly unbothered by the heat. You were surprised the toothpick between his lips hadn’t caught flame yet.

“Although it is biologically impossible for one to melt in this temperature, I’m afraid I have to agree with Wrecker,” Tech spoke up, removing his goggles to wipe away the fog from the humidity. “The fresh water source I detected on my scan of the area is only half a klick from here. It is unusual that he hasn’t returned by now.”

“Try to reach him on the comm,” Echo replied.

“I’m afraid we cannot, at the moment. There is interference from a nearby outpost. Presently I am trying to override it, but I need time.”

Echo stood up from his wooden seat, “Should we go look for him? Maybe something happened.”

“I’ll go,” you declare before anyone else could volunteer, “I’ll find him.”

“Are you sure? You won’t be able to make contact if get into trouble.”

“I’ll be fine,” you smirk, patting the DL-21 pistol on your hip, “Besides, maybe if I walk fast enough I’ll feel a breeze.”

Echo nodded and sunk back down onto the log, casting aside his empty canteen with a grunt.

You hear Wrecker begin to grouse again as you start off into the sweltering forest. The way forward to the supposedly nearby lake was relatively clear, only the occasional tree root cropping up to interrupt the natural path of dirt and grass winding through the timber. It only takes a few minutes for you to realize your hopes to create a breeze were complete folly. Now that you were moving faster and further, your armor felt like an oven welded onto your body. Even with your helmet off, you were starting to wonder if that heat stroke Tech warned about wasn’t so far off.

“How can a planet with just one sun be this hot?” you huff, almost losing your already shaky balance as your foot catches on a rock.

The lush greenery overhead provided some shade from the relentless heatwave, but the stifling humidity nullified whatever mercy the limbs above could offer.

“Kriffing heat, kriffing sun,” you muttered, frustratingly wiping at your eyes as they stung with sweat.

Your flaring temper was about to compete with the solar flares when the smell of water reached your burning nose. Bird song started to grow louder, further confirming you were close to sweet relief.

You stumble through a bush, the sky opening up as you approached the clearing.

“Hunter better be alive...I’m not dragging his body...back...”

Your thoughts evaporated quicker than the moisture from your face. Your gaze jumps to the armor lying on the sand, to the bodysuit cast onto the boulder, then to Hunter kneeling down at the water’s edge, clad only in slim, black shorts.

“This is a mirage. I am definitely hallucinating,” you reason, but you can’t look away.

He stands up, fastening the red bandana around his head as he wades into the water up to his knees

“Nope, that’s him.”

Your jaw goes slack as you realize the tattoo on his face is only part of a full-bodied skeleton etched into his entire left side. Your eyes follow the smooth, ebony outlines of bones from his shoulder, across his back, all the way down the back of his leg.

“Stop staring! What’s wrong with you?” you think, but you’re frozen in place. You watch as he splashes water on his face and rubs the back of his neck. His thick, black hair was drenched, dripping water down his gleaming skin.

“Dank farrik,” you utter breathless.

“Are you gonna keep standing there or are you gonna come out?” Hunter called aloud.

If you had any spit left, you would have choked on it.

“Oh no.”

His heightened senses.

“Sergeant!” you blurt out, your cheeks flushing with more than sunburn.

You fumble forward, almost dropping your helmet.

“Y/N,” he greets, amusement in his voice.

“How uh...how long-”

“Long enough to know it was you. A droid would have shot me by now,” he answered before you could finish.

He sensed you. Of course he did. How could you have forgotten? How could you have remembered...

“Besides, I can always tell when it’s you,” he added.

He finally turns to face you. The waterdrops glisten on his chest. The tattoo trails down from his neck from the front too. Your throat tightens.

You quickly avert your eyes. “I was-, the squad was concerned. When you didn’t make contact.”

“Yeah, didn’t figure out my comm wasn’t working until after I got out here,” he explained, laughing a bit, “The canteens are over there. I filled them up in the stream a little ways to the east. It led me out to the lake. Thought I’d, you know, cool off while I was down here.”

“I see that,” you say, trying to maintain eye contact.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to worry you,” he studied your face, which you pretended not to notice.

“No, I’m fine. Glad you’re alright,” you say, feeling your cheeks get even hotter.

“You sure? Looks like you need to cool down yourself,” he suggests, stepping closer to the bank. “The water is nice and cold.”

He was just torturing you now.

“I’m fine, I don’t wanna take all this off just to put it back on,” you insist, lying through your teeth.

“Ah don’t worry, I can help you with that,” he says, smiling a bit.

You blink. Was, was he flirting with you?

“Tech was right, I’m having a heat stroke.”

He must have noticed the change in your expression because realization flashed in his eyes the next moment.

“Oh I didn’t mean...uh that came out wrong. I just meant, uh...I-” his stammering gave way to nervous laughter.

“Oh that’s okay. Um, we should probably be heading back to the camp anyway. Wrecker was about to melt, as he put it,” you laugh, trying to fix your eyes ahead.

“Ah, right. Of course. Better get that water to him, then,” he nodded, running his hand through his hair. “Would you...nevermind.”

“What is it?” you respond.

“Would you mind handing me my suit? I don’t wanna get sand in it.” he asked, sounding more timid than you’d ever heard him.

“Oh. Yes, of course,” you say, walking over to the boulder where he left his gear. “Not a problem.”

You retrieve the suit, the warmth from the dark fabric soaking through your gloves. You inch closer to the shoreline, moving carefully on the damp terrain.

 "Watch your step. The sand is deeper than it looks,” he cautioned, reaching your direction, ”wouldn't want you to fall."

The words were barely out of his mouth as your boot slid in the slick silt. You try to regain your balance, but it was too late. Gravity has its way as you collide into Hunter, both of you going tumbling into the shallow water. The splash rains down on you as you come to a stop, and when you open your eyes, you’re lying directly on top of Hunter.

“I am so, so sorry, Sergeant,” you gasp, mortified, but you’re interrupted by his laughter.

“At least my suit will be cool now,” he chuckles, wiping away the water from his eyes.

You try to clamor off of him, but you can’t get a grip between your heavy armor and the unsteady sediment. As your balance wavers again, you almost knock your head into his.

“Kriff!” you exclaim, “I’m so sorry!”

He laughing even more now, shaking underneath you. “Here, lemme help.”

Even with your full weight on him, he manages to sit upright, steadying you with his hands on your waist. Your heart skips as you realize your hands are on his chest.

“I...am...” you pant, eyes locking with his. Before you can continue, Hunter reaches for your face, brushing a strand of your dripping hair away from your eyes. His knuckles softly graze your cheek, and your breath hitches. You find yourself leaning forward, glancing between his lips and his soft grey eyes.

“Sergeant? Hunter, do you read me?” Tech’s voice rings out from the comm on the shore.

You jump from the sound, both of you looking toward the sand where the device blinked.

“I...better get that,” Hunter exhales, disappointment in his tone.

“Yes. Definitely,” you say, slowly getting to your feet, holding onto Hunter’s hand until he’s upright alongside you.

“Sorry about your suit,” you say sheepishly. You pick it up out of the water and ring it out the best you can before handing it to him.

“Sorry about yours,” he countered, gesturing to your soaked armor as he trekked up the bank.

You already felt the water seeping beneath the plates into places it shouldn’t, but that was the last thing on your mind.

“That’s alright. You were right. The water was cool,” you say, following behind.

“Hunter, do you copy?” Tech radioed again, sounding a little more concerned than usual.

Hunter retrieved the comm, heaving a sigh. “Yeah Tech, I copy.”

“Good. Is Y/N with you? She went searching for you when you didn’t return.”

Hunter looked over at you as you leaned over to shake out your hair.

“Yeah, she’s with me.”

You catch a glimpse of his smirk before he turns away.

“We’re on our way back. Tell Wrecker to hold on a little longer. We got the canteens refilled,” Hunter reported.

“Copy that. You may want to hurry. I am not sure how much longer Crosshair can restrain himself from putting Wrecker out of his misery. Nor I, for that matter.”

“Will do. Over and out.”

You went over and collected the canteens while Hunter donned his armor, all the while your thoughts raced as the moment from the water relayed in your mind.

Hunter cleared his throat, walking up behind you, helmet under his arm. “Ready to head out?”

You spin on your heel, three canteens strapped to your belt and one in your hand. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he nods, grabbing the other two and securing them.

“Hunter?” you ask, hesitating to even voice the question in your mind.

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean, when you said you can always tell when it’s me?”

“Oh, well. I just...can. Certain people give off a feeling. It’s not everyone. But some do. It’s hard to describe,” he explained.

“And my feeling?”

He gazes into your eyes and smiles. “Bright as the sun.”

He puts on his helmet and takes point, striding back into the woods. You slip yours on as well, concealing your grin all the way back to camp.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Tali’s Alphys-Centric Fic Rec List

I’ve been meaning to make this for a while!! All fics are oneshots unless marked as a series or with a chapter count.  Thanks to everyone who recced several of these to me on my 12am begging-for-alphys-fics post dfdksdl. These aren’t in any particular order. The “notes” section is my commentary about each fic. No fics are based on full AUs (ex. underswap, horrortale, etc). The only endgame Alphys ship included is Alphyne, though most of the fics listed are gen. Hope you can find something you enjoy here!

Extra Credit by FriedCatfish

Rating: G // Word count: 1,206 Summary: Undyne loses track of time watching anime. Set before the events of the game. Notes: Cute Alphyne oneshot! Short and sweet, very nice characterization

world comes pouring through by feralpheonix

Rating: G // Word count: 1,655 Summary: Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business. Notes: 2nd person Alphys pov but it surprisingly works? A small moment with Alphys, Bratty, and Catty, which I literally NEVER see content for so it was really refreshing!! Takes place at/near the end of the pacifist route.

white lies to the dead by MiniNephthys

Rating: T // Word Count: 580 Summary: Alphys walks through Waterfall, talking to someone who's not there. Notes: Queen Alphys ending; Alphys “talks” to Undyne after she’s been killed. Hits me right in all the emotions ;;

Found Soul by LibraLibrary

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,331 Summary: Self-worth is a slippery, fleeting little devil, and the bastard flower that killed you isn't helping. Takes place during the final fight of the True Pacifist run, following Alphys from one purgatory to the next. Notes: Very angsty, definitely make sure you’re ready to handle Alphys’s suicidal thoughts, but a very good read! I love seeing the Lost Soul battle from her POV.

And I Feel Fine by Masu_Trout

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,685 Summary: The fallen human is human is fast approaching The Core, and Mettaton is ready to finally take the stage. Now, if only Alphys would stop worrying so much. Notes: Alphys & Mettaton friendship in the no mercy route, but manages to be surprisingly not depressing. Mettaton POV but definitely still deserves to be here. This fic does a great job of characterizing them both and it’s always great to see Alphys working in her element.

Experimentation by pickledragon

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,531 Summary: Alphys is, above all, a scientist. She may watch anime with religious fervor and make horrible Undernet shitposts in her free time, but she is good at her job. She knows what they say about her, behind her back. But when she stands there, time open before her, she resolves to collect data. Each experiment, intentional or not, brings new opportunities to change certain variables and observe others. Alphys is a scientist, after all. Notes: THIS FIC. it’s technically part of a series but it stands on its own (it’s the only one i’ve read by this author). EXCELLENT alphys characterization and writing style. Some Sans & Alphys friendship too which is always stellar. If you didn’t gather from the summary, it’s an alphys starts to remember resets fic.

Memory by Ash_yeet

Rating: T // Word Count: 19,962 // Chapters: 5/20 Summary: It's been two years since monsterkind have joined the humans on the surface, and Alphys is happier than she's ever been. But things can't stay great forever. She starts having nightmares, lapses in memory, flashbacks to things that have never happened. She hopes it will pass... sans is doing his best to adjust to life. When Alphys reaches out to him about her nightmares, he doesn't expect much. He quickly changes his tune. Someone is trying to come back. And they aren't what they used to be.sans and Alphys are trying to move on. But there's one thing they forgot: No matter how hard you try, you can't run from your past. Notes: I’ve only read chapter one so far, but it’s been really good! Looks like it’s going to involve Gaster in some way. Says it’s on short hiatus but was updated in April so doesn’t look abandoned.

Hot and Cold Blooded (Alphyne series) by perniciousLizard

Rating: varies by fic, usually G but a few T and one E // Word count: 36,516 // Works: 18/18 Summary: This series is a place to put all my Alphys/Undyne stories that aren't part of another series. Notes: this series has something for everyone; you can pick and choose which works to read. Most are feel-good fluff and humor, some hurt/comfort too. Some connect to the author’s Sansby series (which i also can’t recommend enough)

When Life Hands You Enantiomers by Kaesa

Rating: T // Word Count: 2,739 Summary: Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent. Sans has donuts. Notes: ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. Fun puns, science, alphys & sans friendship, piranhas, the opportunity to actually understand organic chemistry references,, it’s so good and fun

Friendshipping by AyuOhseki

Rating: G // Word Count: 4,564 Summary: Sans finds Alphys's secret Sans/Grillby RPF. This won't get weird or awkward or anything, we're sure. Notes: Hilarious Alphys narration, great characterization, it’s just so silly and warms my heart. I love terrible fanfic writer Alphys

social links by simplycarryon

Rating: G // Word Count: 2,525 Summary: Friendship's pretty neat, or so your video games and anime dictate. But you are not an anime protagonist, and you're not sure you know what friendship is any more. Notes: more solid sans & alphys friendship :D

See You Another Time by decamarks

Rating: T // Word Count: 18,500 // Chapters: 1/14 Summary: “Have you ever thought of a world where everything is exactly the same... Except you don’t exist? Everything functions perfectly without you.” Alphys spent a lot of time thinking about what it’d be like to start over. It wasn’t fair for someone like her to escape consequences. She knew that, yet the thought never left her mind—the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get another chance; that she could abandon her life, her failures—everything—and start anew. But that would never happen. Sometimes, Alphys wondered. Would the world be better off without her? When unexplainable anomalies appear and begin to warp the world around her, Alphys discovers something she was never meant to know: the identity of the former Royal Scientist, and how he met his demise. Doctor W.D. Gaster vanished without a trace; he was erased from reality after an experiment ended in disgrace. Forgotten by the world, shattered across time and space—it’s like he never existed in the first place.And Alphys can’t imagine a better fate. Notes: This is a monster of a first chapter but definitely worth the read!! So much good stuff happening already. I’m a total wuss but I still love the cosmic/existential horror bits going on so far. Great Sans & alphys friendship and Undyne & alphys friendship so far.  All the amalgamates also feel incredibly well written. Can’t wait to see more of this one

(And here are a few of my own Alphys-centric fics as well)

Seventh Time’s the Charm by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,519 // Chapters: 1/7 Summary: Six bad "dates" Alphys has been on, plus one that is actually pretty good. Notes: Alphys is my favorite and I love giving her a bad time. First chapter is a “date” she has with Sans. Next chapter which I have in progress is going to be Papyrus. (Alphyne is still endgame of course.) Set mostly before the events tof the game. Get ready for lots of second-hand embarrassment sdlfkjds

Support Character by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,814 Summary: If Sans is determined to fight the human, Alphys is going to make sure he's prepared. Notes: Sans & Alphys no mercy route friendship, based on the headcanon that Alphys was the one to give Sans the powers/magic he uses to fight the human.

it's your best life (if it's the life that you're living right now) by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 4,046 Summary: Through messages saved to Sans's phone, Queen Alphys gets a glimpse at lives that might have been.  With so many possibilities... how did this timeline go so wrong? Notes: Sans & Alphys friendship, Queen Alphys ending, mostly angst/hurt/comfort. I’m really proud of this one and it uses my main headcanon for how Sans knows about resets.

The Trans-Underground Alphys-Carrying, Match-Making Road Trip by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 5,713 Summary: From her secret security camera, Alphys gets too invested in Sans's relationship with the voice behind the door.  This wouldn't be a problem if Mettaton didn't decide to take her ship into his own hands. Trying to catch up with a battery-powered robot is hard work, but telling the truth is even harder. Notes: This is a really silly fic with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in. Has some Soriel and Papyton in the background. Has some Alphys & Papyrus friendship as well which is always underrated in my opinion.

[kenganparadise]

Hey how are you love!!!

I was wondering if I could get a head canon of agito confessing his feeling, planning a first date, and losing his virginity to his S/O please!!!!!!

Im doing pretty wonderful after seeing this in my ask box!! I love you for requesting this- Thank you so much!! I’ve always wanted to write HCs about Agito falling in love❤️ it’s so obvious that he’s my favorite. I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it💙❤️💜

Agito-

• Agito doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He never conciders finding a partner or finding love before. He’s spent his whole life serving Metsudo.

• That is till he meets his S/O. He doesn’t know what it is about them, he just knows that they’re special to him. He knows that the feeling he has for them is much different than anything he’s felt toward anyone ever before.

• They make him feel so warm and fuzzy inside. Every time he sees them his gut tightens and churns. He goes out of his way to pass by them. Even if it means inconveniencing himself he’ll go out of his way just to see them.

• Sometimes he is unable to stop thinking about his crush. He does everything and anything to get them out of his head. They’ve plagued him. He even sees them in his dreams

• He sees things that couples do, maybe in books and movies. He also does a lot of people watching (more like analyzing and collecting data while he’s the fang) but when he’s living his nomad biker babe days he watches how people act and treat each other.

• He sees couples kiss and hold hands, he takes note of people who do PDA, he imagines him and his crush doing things like that.

• His feelings confuse him. He tries to bottle them up. He’ll probably have this nasty crush for a very long time before he even speaks to his crush. He’ll just silently watch them from afar.

• However bottling up emotions and feelings is never ever a good idea. Eventually they’ll bubble over. This could be due to jealousy or maybe his feelings grow and grow even more till it gets downright uncomfortable.

• Finally he does something about it- he confides in his friends/family. He probably approaches Metsudo and Sayaka. maybe Takayama and Omori if he’s feeling desperate. He probably even goes to Okubo. He knows Metsudo and Okubo have experience in love and relationships (Metsudo more than Okubo)

• Mestsudo is delighted that Agito has fallen in love. He advises that Agito go out and buy his crush a bunch of gifts then give a very grand confession to his love. Agito adores Metsudo but he’s not going to put on a show.

• Sayaka does the same. She tells Agito to write anonymous love letters to his crush. She’ll deliver them of course. He considers it but doesn’t want to do that either.

• Okubo give Agito a bunch of pick-up lines. He thinks that a little demeaning so he’s definitely not doing that. (Could you imaging Agito telling a pick up line to his S/O. It would be so Awkward)

• Omori and Takayama tell him the exact same thing “just go tell them how you feel.” Omori says. “Just tell them how you feel, dumbass” Takayama says. Agito does exactly that.

• Agito approaches his crush at their usual spot. “I’d like to speak with you privately.” He says with a poker face. He’s all business. He takes them somewhere private where they won’t be bothered.

• When he’s alone with his crush he feels a pang of nervousness in his heart. Seeing them look up at him in confusion/curiosity makes his gut churn.

• It’s hard to read him. So his crush has no clue what he’s speaking to him about. His tone and body language doesn’t tell them a thing. They have no idea the things that they have put him through. They don’t know the turmoil going on inside him.

• “I think I’m in love with you.” He speaks, still all business. His crush is taken by absolute surprise. They’re frozen. “A-ah I’m sorry did I hear you right? Can you repeat that?” They’ll say. “I think-no. I am in love with you.” He says, reassuring his crush.

• “well. How about we go out on a date?” They say timidly after processing this shocking information.

• Dates- Agito knows about these. “Yes. What would you like to do?” He asks still all business. “Dinner! Just the two of us!” They’ll say. The hearing his crush say ‘just the two of us’ makes his heart leap.

• The date is set. They’ll meet the following night. Agito will pick them up and they’ll go to a traditional restaurant.

• He wears his finest suit. He picks out an expensive cologne. With Metsudo’s help get gets a dozen of the most vibrant roses- only the best for his date.

• He meets them at their home. “You look pretty.” Is all he’s able to say. He does think they look beautiful. They did their hair and obviously put lots of thought into their outfit.

• During the date his crush does most of the talking. He is having a wonderful time just listening to their voice. He replies every now and again. Sometimes he’s unable to hide the smile on his face.

• After good food, drinks, and desert he walks his S/O home. He asks his crush politely if they’d like to see him again. Hearing them say yes makes his heart skip a beat.

• If his crush wants a kiss they’ll have to make the first move. “Bend down a little please.” He of course obeys without a second thought. They better not expect him to kiss back. But his lips will twitch when he’s feels their warm ones press to his. When his crush pulls away they’ll be about to see pink dusted across his cheeks.

• He’ll walk home. He will absolutely ponder for hours about that kiss and he will definitely be seeing them in his dreams again at night.

🔞WARNING NSFW AHEAD🔞

• After dating for a while Agito feels himself ready to lose that pesky virginity. He waits for his S/O to make the first move.

• Agito has spent many nights touching himself to the thought of his S/O. Even before when it was just a crush he’d be in his room, dick in hand, thinking about them.

• He’s imagined what their body looks like beneath their clothing and that they feel like from the inside.

• The first time- He’s practically champing at the bit watching them undress slowly. His dick is practically twitching in his pants. His breathing gets ragged watching them strip down to their underwear.

• When they stare at him he realizes it’s his turn to remove his clothing. He hurriedly rips of his clothes down to his boxers. To say he is impatient is quite the understatement, he’s spent many nights thinking about this exact moment.

• Their fingers are like fire on his skin when his S/O touches him. The two are sitting on the bed as his S/O begins kissing his neck and chest. They feel up his pecs and abs. Their hands trail down to his hips and stop at his boxers.

• He jumps and blushes a deep crimson color when they they squeeze his ass.

• He realizes he should probably be doing something too. He grabs their chest and massages it roughly making them moan.

• Hearing them moan spurs him on more. He pinches their nipples lightly in his fingers. It doesn’t matter if his S/O is AFAB or AMAB he’s sucking on those titties. After playing with their chest a little he takes their nipple in his mouth. He sucks roughly. He moves his hands down to their hips.

• He touches them through their underwear. He rubs them roughly. He flinches when feeling them palm him through his boxers. Feeling their hands on him makes him very impatient. “How do you- what position should we do?” He asks. “Well do you want to be on top? Or do you want me to be on top?” They purr in his ear. Ugh that’s the hardest decision he could make right now.

• He wants them to be on top first. He lays on his back with soft pillows behind him. They pull down his boxers, his massive cock springs out. He watches as they remove their panties finally.

• His S/O coats his dick with a generous amount of lube. He grunts as they stroke him a couple times while coating him. Then his S/O mounts him.

• He listens to his S/O hiss as they sink down onto his dick. It’s a delicious stretch. He exhales as their hips meet his. His Adam’s apple bobs. It’s such a stark contrast. He’s so used to his rough cold calloused hand, and now he’s deep inside his soft, warm, tight S/O.

• He uncontrollably bucks his hips up into his S/O. They moan as he does. They grab his hands and place them on their hips. He’s got a vice grip on them. Then they start to move.

• He watches like a hawk as they bounce on his dick. He literally can’t look away. They set a steady space. He’s got insane stamina but It’s his first time. He cums rather fast.

• He can’t really help it, his S/O is so soft and warm. And they look gorgeous moaning and being pleasured above him. He’s never felt this before, so he pumps his load inside quickly.

• He doesn’t warn them before hand, it’s only when they feel his dick go soft and the huge load inside their belly that that they’ve realized he’s finished.

• He feels bad for not warning them beforehand- but seeing his release seeping out of them makes his dick come back to life.

• The second round however is much different. He is on top and controlling the pace. He enters them and sets a rather brutal but steady pace. His S/O better get ready to get fucked into the mattress.

• Their legs would be locked around his waist as he pounds into them. he’ll be grunting in their ear the whole time, his hands are clawing at the sheets beneath. Hearing them moan in his ear spurs him on.

• He lasts much longer this time. He’ll only finish after his S/O cums. He grunts loudly as he dumps another load in his S/O.

• After that it’s quite a long night for his poor S/O. He excited and wants to try everything in one night (but we know that’s not possible)

• He switches positions. He loves the sight of his S/O getting fucked in different poses. Each round he lasts longer than the previous.

• Once he’s had enough and he realizes his S/O has definitely had enough, he carries them to the bathroom for a nice hot bath. Then it’s off to bed. He cuddles his S/O the whole night. He’ll probably fall asleep after them.

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

Part One | Part Two

The midnight moons were dull during this season but it bothered you little. This was your home and the darkness here was soothing instead of frightening. Centuries of evolution had led your people to be as comfortable in the umbra as in the crowning.

Instead, it was your thoughts that were keeping you up. They ran like they were trying to win a pod racing tournament, offering you no respite. They were fast enough that you couldn’t even begin to try to pick them apart, a constant loop of worry pulling you under.

The Council had recognized that you were drowning and assigned you and a platoon of men on a Search, while the rest of your Corps were paired with the 501st and 212th. Cassaviom was between them and Coruscant, so the 737th had dropped your group off and had left you to rejoin the War.

Ace, your clone Marshal Commander, had split the Corps between Captains Alarm and Data, so named for their most common sayings —“I don’t want to alarm you, but…” and “According to the data at hand…”. Ace had joined you on your Search, stating that, respectfully, you weren’t in any position to be without him. It was hard to argue against that — for two years now, you had led your men against the Separatists and their army, and you had done so with Ace only half a step behind you. It was hard for you to imagine a future where he wasn’t present — often scolding you for getting lost in your thoughts, pulling you out of trouble or sitting next to you when you got caught.

As always lately, it was Ace that brought you out of your head.

“Here and now, General. Need you here and now,” his voice led his body in reaching you, perched on top of a cliff as you were, gazing over the Endless Sea.

“I’m here. Just…thinking,” you slid over a little, the stone you were sitting on big enough for two people.

“Too much to hope for happy thoughts, General?”

“Afraid so, Commander. Not a lot of that to go around,” as Ace sat next to you, he slid your cloak around your shoulders, always concerned you weren’t wearing enough and we’re liable to catch something. Flashing him a quick but small smile, you slid your arms in and settled back again.

“A burden shared is a burden halved,” you knew he wasn’t pushing you but you felt like you owed it to him, more than nearly anyone else, to answer his questions.

“To go on a Search means that I’m looking for a Force Sensitive child. My people are, by and large, solitary. We could go almost our entire lives and never see more than one or two others, mostly a brief period with our parents than with those we choose to mate and raise a child with. But by age ten or eleven? We were mostly on our own. There is a Force Sensitive here on Cassaviom, I can feel them. But I’m wrestling with the thought of actually finding them. What right do I have? The War hasn’t touched Cassaviom, despite all odds. If I were to find the child, I’d be obligated to offer them the life of a Jedi. And their parents would accept. We all know that some children are born for the Stars — they’d see me and know why I was there. It’s an honor for them,” you trailed off in the middle of your sentence, your attention pulled to the Dance of the Merquise, an aquatic animal that glowed with bioluminescence. Despite the fancy name, it was a fairly common sight during the Waning Season.

It was still an incredible sight and not one you saw often. Even Ace seemed enchanted with it.

It was a couple of minutes late before Ace prompted you to continue your thoughts from before the Dance.

“It’s an honor for us to have a child Touched by the Stars. They’d gladly and easily give them up. But should they? Right now, all the Jedi can offer them in a War Riddled galaxy. Is it worth it? Leaving this?”

You gave Ace time to collect his thoughts. It wasn’t often you opened yourself up as much as you just did and you knew Ace knew that it meant you were seriously concerned. He wanted to give his answer the same consideration you gave your worries.

“I can’t answer you on anything involving the Force, you know that. But think about this? What was it like for you? Growing up in the Temple? Surrounded by your peers. People that could understand you when you get lost in the Force like you frequently do. Could you honestly say that growing up here would be better? Yeah, it’s a beautiful place — from what I’ve seen of it, at least — and you seem to have fond memories of all the other times you’ve journeyed back here. But could they teach you and care for you and even love you, as the Jedi could?”

Ace was silent then. You were too. His questions gave rise to a cascade of memories of your childhood — growing up in the creche, your crechemates, being surrounded by the deep and sure love and care of generations of Jedi that came before you and that will come after you. It was a cascade filled with light and laughter. Even just thinking of depriving some Force Sensitive child the opportunity to experience that left a bad taste in your mouth, despite your fears that the Light in the Temple was being touched by the Dark.

You stood up, offering your hand to Ace and hauling him to his feet after you. “Come on Commander. We’ve got a child to find.”

@themerrywhumpofmay

[timextoxhajima]

HOSTIS, Chapter IV: Vetiti Fructus In, The Forbidden Fruit

Previous Chapter (III: Aemulatio)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): angst, drama, comedy

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“why am i always one step behind you?”

the black rim of the file glistens under the light hanging above the table on your left. translucent curtains were drawn behind and next the the oversized L-shaped couch you were laying on, legs stretched out and laptop sitting on a cushion on your lap. 

the white table was strewn about with freshly printed sheets of data and research you managed to collect in the last week. 

it was day seven of your ten days being mentored by doctor choi. the welcome-party was to be held at the end of the month, not the coming weekend. 

something about the team that was responsible for handling newcomers not being able to host it because everybody was busy... something along those lines.

you didn’t bother noting the reason for a delayed party when the more pressing issue was getting that research file out to doctor kim before lee hyunjae did, and with better content. 

throwing your head back against the pillows, your eyes naturally travel along the ceiling to the glass doors beyond the sofa, lining parallel to your position. the faint dots in the sky above takes you back to the first time you went stargazing with your father. 

you remember your mother didn’t go because she was too busy. 

the brain-juicing brightness off the laptop screen starts to yank on your attention, and you sigh at the sight of the word ‘oncology’. you already did the research online and whatever doctor kim had provided you, and it wasn’t too difficult a task to imagine that lucifer probably had the same type of content written down for that last section as well. 

the frustration empties itself from your chest in the form of a loud groan while your fingers travel to your forehead. 

the only thing left to do was this stupid oncology section, but how were you going to outdo lee hyunjae? sure, the rest of the research report would already be different; every pocket of free time you found in between your rounds with doctor choi, you were working on it. lee hyunjae was nowhere to be found either during those free periods, so what else would he be doing besides filling up the research report?

there was no more room for your own research and understanding of oncology to beat him. you were a neurologist after all, not an oncologist. 

why did doctor kim even include the oncology section when he knew it was going to be difficult for me to get the information?

“arghhhhhhh--” your vision flashes white for a split second at the sudden sitting up, and you place your laptop down off the cushion. the rug covering the living room floor brings comfort to your toes as you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair. 

the painful, but satisfying memory of what happened pre-med school starts to roll in your head like an old VHS tape. the look in lucifer’s eyes when you had him against the locker, the only thing stopping you from driving a test tube down his throat were the long arms of law. 

otherwise, it was sweet, almost diabetic, to watch him crumble and lose to you despite him being the fire starter. 

but then again, you lost the first boy you ever loved because of lee hyunjae. 

you couldn’t even convince yourself that you won.

the VHS tape in your head starts to burn and disintegrate into ashes while the nostalgic fire lights up in your chest, and the thought of losing to him four years ago made you want to get that oncology section done.

your inner ares picks up the file and flips to the last page where the word ‘oncology’ was printed in big, block letters at the top, followed by a bunch of details and information with hypothetical questions listed down. 

the left brow on your face twitches and the muscle movement felt so eerily detached from you, a surge of unstoppable desire erupting inside you like mount vesuvius in 79 AD. 

if you could possess a single power right now, it’ll be pyrokinesis. 

~

the light shining into your office was so bright and warm, it would’ve been a crime not to talk a walk outside. 

you would’ve, but not today. 

lucifer’s office door opens and closes and you notice him heading off in the direction of the washroom, and your peripheral vision captures the oncology page of the hospital website on the computer screen. 

after waiting it out for a safe period of time, you adjust the white coat to hide the color of your breast pocket (where the color differentiated which department you were in) and shoved the staff ID card down the back pocket of your jeans. you grab your file, phone in hand and the gears in your head start to churn out some smart excuse in case anybody were to question why you, a newcomer, looked like you were about to go for a meeting. 

you head for the lift, fingers dancing around while you searched for the floor that connected the east wing over to the north. 

you were already beginning to recite that excuse you built in your head in case doctor kim runs into you while you were walking through the north wing. 

but zeus must’ve decided that one half of his sons deserved some love today, for you run into zero staff who didn’t pay attention to the absence of your staff ID around your neck.

your eyes follow the signs to the west wing, and that was where you started to notice people you really haven’t seen before. 

the atmosphere changed once you got to the office level where all the oncology doctors would be, and most of the staff looked like they had been working without a wink of sleep. 

your vision and attention start to dart around the hallways and doors, trying to look for a name tag on a door that said ‘shin ga hyun’ or something along the lines of oncology research archi--

there we go.

the words ‘research facility’ printed in block letters on the door of the room looked like the word ‘victory’ in another language, and you could only thank zeus for being so kind to you today. 

the lab coat on you and the file case you were holding was enough to prove that you were a staff here, so even if shin ga hyun were to find out you were in her wing, there was nothing she could do about it besides get mad at you for “losing your way while searching for research content”.

the staff ID card slides out from your jeans so you could give yourself access to the dark room, and you notice the only view in was through the little window on the door itself. 

once the door was open, your first step was to get it closed, regardless of whether your eyes could adjust to the orientation of the room. 

relief floods through you, and you quickly wonder why you were so scared of something that wasn’t even illegal. 

a small snort runs through your nose at the thought that you were scared, because frankly, there wasn’t much that could scare you anymore. maybe sometimes, just sometimes, the only thing that could scare you was yourself.

the scent of old paper and files fill your nostrils with every drawer and cabinet you opened, and you start searching for documents with information to grant you access to the oncology database, but not one single sheet of paper satiates your thirst to win. 

your heart was already zipping back and forth in your chest, and the emptiness of the room only reminds you that anybody could come in anytime. your eyes look around the dimly lit room and you note the gap between the lockers behind the desk and the wall where you could run and hide in case someone came in--

“...yes, ga hyun, everything regarding the department’s database have been shifted to your office.”

the pupils on your eyeballs shrink in a second and something similar to a heart attack tears through your chest at the name. the footsteps halt right outside the door and you close the drawer with such calculated strength to prevent yourself from slamming it shut. your heels turn towards the corner and it takes you three incredibly large steps to get you there.

but everything happened so fast that you didn’t even register the fact that you got pulled into that little corner. 

you would’ve rammed your knee so high up this man’s groin if he wasn’t going to scream like a fucking baby if you did. 

“what the fuck are you doing here?!” he mouths angrily at you, ears red and cheeks flushed with fear when the door of the room clicks open. 

“are you sure everything related to the database has been cleared out this room?” shin ga hyun sounded like she’d slit your throat and show no signs of remorse.

“what do you think?!” this silent conversation was going to warrant you a reason to punch him in the face later.

“yes, doctor shin,” the second voice sounded so dead and unbothered, you imagine it had to be someone of a more senior position than shin ga hyun for her to talk to the department head like that. “there may be a few stray sheets here and there but if they weren’t filed properly in the first place, then it’s highly likely they weren’t too important.”

“don’t fucking touch me!” his arm brushes against your shoulder and if you could scream, it would’ve deafened him.

“if you hadn’t come in, we wouldn’t be stuck in this shitty little gap!” 

your eyes widen at his sudden stoppage of mouthing, and you could hear the little breaths coming out after every consonant. 

“will you shut the fuck up?!”

“so you mean to tell me that there is a slight possibility that an important sheet of paper regarding our database is sitting around somewhere inside this room?”

“how can i shut up when i’m stuck in this godforsaken space with you?! i don’t even want to fucking breathe the same air as you!”

oh my fucking god, will he fucking shut his trap-- we are going to get caught--

“oh, my god,” an exasperated sigh fills the room. “ga hyun, you really need to take a chill pill.”

“don’t tell me to ‘take a chill pill’--”

“if you didn’t walk in here like you owned the fucking place, i wouldn’t have touched you!”

your index finger flies up to your lips and you beg him to shut up with your eyes.

but this piece of dumbshit-doctor doesn’t fucking get it--

you had a victory to claim, and you were not going to let him take that away from you. 

the ares inside you wraps your fingers around his face and shoves your lips between his, but your eyes were still wide open, looking out at the glass on the cabinet on the other side of the room to see a taller female trying to drag a shorter female out of the office. 

“you need to take a chill pill. the entire hospital is scared of you, honey. don’t you want to amend that?”

the scanner beeps, and the door clicks open. 

“if nobody’s done anything wrong then there’s no reason for them to be scared of me.”

“fair, but you need to start wearing a smile on your face more often!” the door hisses shut, and the footsteps start to move away. “i’ll get someone to check the database stuff for you then...”

ares leaves your body and your soul gets sucked back into its rightful place, and you don’t think you’ve shoved anyone, or anything for that matter, faster than you shoved lucifer off your face.

wincing in disgust, the back of your hand wipes the corner of your lips as a frown hardens on your forehead, and lucifer was busy sticking out his tongue like he had just eaten something spicy.

“son of a bitch,” the hiss seethes through your teeth as you walk out from the gap, deliberately running your shoulder against his left arm. “don’t you ever assume that i would let the thinnest strand of hair on my body touch you.”

the wrath and rage drips off your tongue like saliva while you walked, turning your head and looking over your shoulder to glare at lee hyunjae. 

“and don’t you ever fucking kiss me again!”

your staff card was barely inches away from the scanner when the words start to eat at your ego. 

“for your fucking information, i did not want my lips to be on yours,” you take two big steps to him who was walking towards you in a fit. “someone just didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

his breath was hitting your cheek rapidly, and you jab your tongue against the inside of your cheek, trying to claw your way through his self-proclaimed glare that he probably thinks scares you off. 

your suck your lips between your teeth and scrunch up your nose with effort, your right hand instinctively deciding that it was a good idea to shove him backwards before you left the room. 

throwing yourself into your own leather seat in your office and the beads of sweat on your forehead coming off onto a tissue, your eyes plaster themselves to the ceiling. 

mission failed.

not only that,

i had to kiss this motherfucking son of a bitch to shut his fucking ass up.

the tissue gets crumpled in your grasp at the thought of underestimating him, and you hurl the lightweight ball barely a metre away from you. 

doctor choi brings you on his final round for the day, and happiness was as simple as finding out that lucifer had been called to handle some boring admin work by the hospital administration because he screwed up somewhere in the system. 

the round was longer than expected, with one of doctor choi’s alzheimer’s patients talking to you about his childhood. doctor choi tries to steer you clear of the patient, worried that you were uncomfortable. but the stories he was telling you brought you back to a time when your parents were still pretty prominent in your life. doctor choi just leaves you with him until the nurses bring around his medicine as a distraction, providing you with a chance to leave before the patient keeps you for the night.

the evening sun paints the floor a tangerine shade, through the glass doors of the offices. and in your hand was the black file with such reluctance and bitterness that you wish you didn’t agree to this whole research department thing in the first place.

most of the research department officers and doctors had evening duties to tend to before they left, so it was pretty quiet and desolate once you reached doctor kim’s desk with the idea of submitting the research report. 

yet the sight of the blue file strikes up a flame of confusion and suspicion. laying down your black file, your fingerpads brush over the cover of the blue one, and ares returns to whisper seductive motivations in your ear. 

you run through the pages, not surprised that most of the data was different from yours, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the five-thousand-word-long report behind the oncology cover sheet. 

motherfucker.

he must’ve found one of those ‘stray sheets’ for the database while he was snooping in the room. 

red bursts of revenge and hatred start to rush through your veins, and you pull apart the rings of the file to remove the ridiculously long report. 

the papers were messily stuffed into your work case and you return the file back to its original position, in time for doctor kim to return to his cubicle.

“ah, i was waiting to see if you were going to submit it today!” he gleams at you, and his warm, elderly aura comforts you, peeling you away from the horrible deed you just carried out. 

“well, yeah... but i have to confess, i didn’t do much for the oncology report at the back.”

“i was already expecting that after i warned you about doctor shin! but nevermind that, i look forward to reading your report.”

“oh but, uh...” you rub the back of your neck. “have you looked through doctor lee’s? it looks pretty thick.”

doctor kim’s palm finds the two files and he shakes his head. “oh, nope. he just gave me this wide smile and told me to read his file like i was reading a book. his confidence is really something else.”

oh, thank god.

“i see,” the sugary taste of satisfaction rubs itself into your taste buds. “i hope we didn’t let you down, doctor kim. we really worked hard on it.”

the smile doesn’t leave his face, and he only gives you a small pat on the shoulder. “i will look forward to reading both reports.” he nods, and you take your cue to bow and bid goodbye. 

~

your living room was barely lit up with the only source of light being the one from the kitchen, and the gentle chirps of crickets outside were muffled through the sliding doors of your living room.

the wine in your glass was practically frolicking about with your little dance of triumph of the day. though part of the reason why you were drinking wine was to force yourself to forget that you kissed lucifer -- ew --, you were also drinking to celebrate. 

“well,” you pout at the little cactus that sat in the middle of the table in your living room. “he should thank me for removing it. doctor kim could figure out that he only got the information from snooping into the oncology department and he could get trouble for it.”

talking to yourself wasn’t a daily routine, but you just couldn’t resist the temptation of convincing yourself that you did nothing wrong. 

which in fact, you did not. 

but the competitiveness seeps through your bones and makes your stomach churn with regret and displeasure again, when the realisation sinks into your head. 

why am i always one step behind you?

with a contorted look of discontentment staring back at you in the reflection of the wine glass, you lift the rim to your lips and down the rest of it like they were shots. 

“i should���ve known he was going to do it,” the wine bottle calls out to you like a siren, and your fingers wrap around the cool, glass surface. “if i did it sooner, i might’ve gotten the fucking database information--”

knock knock

you berate zeus for sending a visitor at such a shitty time, throwing your head backwards and squeezing your eyes shut. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock

“ugh, mom! i told you not to visit me on a weekday!” the release of the wine bottle only fills your stomach with disappointment as you trudged towards the door. 

with enough frustration to fuel your grip around the handle, you yank the heavy door open.

“mom, what are you-- oh.” 

shit.

flares of aching poison start to pierce their way into your eyes upon the eye contact, and your knuckles whiten with the tightening grip on the handle of your door. 

“you’re gonna wish it was your mom, alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter V: Monitum

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Magazine interview - ‘‘Rookies’ ‘goodnight information’ GET!‘‘

The entire night is for the rookies to relax ❤

A translation of the interview of the rookies, published in the Ot*media Autumn 2020 December issue. This only covers the questions corner. If possible, please consider supporting the magazine yourself by purchasing a copy!

The questions are the same for all the rookies, but they’ll be included for each answer just in case.

Akira Otori

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

Usually something around 10 or 11 pm. I go running every morning, so I gotta get up early. Though there’s times where I’m too busy gaming and end up staying late…

Tell us about your night routine!

I stretch every night! I gotta unwind properly at the end of the day since I’m moving around ‘cuz of training and all. Besides, stretching makes me wake up feeling fresh in the morning, and motivates me to train some more♪

What do you wear to bed?

Definitely tank tops! Doesn’t matter if it’s summer or winter, it’s the same whole year round. It gets kinda hot while sleeping yeah? ‘Cuz of it I can’t sleep well with short sleeves and stuff…

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

When I woke up ‘cuz I heard someone was calling my name, it turned out to be Will sleep talking. I got really excited and listened to see what kind of dream he was having, apparently he was just scolding me about how I should clean up my room or pick up my clothes… Haah, I got woken up for nothing... 

Will Sprout

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

I go to bed at around 11 pm. Ever since I became a hero I made sure to get the habit of going to bed early. Could be because I get so tired from training that I tend to fall asleep early though…

Tell us about your night routine!

I make sure to check how the plants in my room and the living are doing before going to bed. If I don’t look at the condition of the leaves or earth it makes me worry… I also try to avoid the fridge at all costs. I’d be tempted to indulge myself with some sweets.

What do you wear to bed?

I use T-shirts as pajamas for going to bed. Akira’s sensitive to the heat, and the room temperature might be lower than the others. Dressing a bit warmly for summer and winter is just right.

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

One time Oscar’s hedgehog Alexander broke out in the middle of the night, and when I woke up early he was sleeping in my bed which startled me. I don’t really understand how he got into the room to begin with but… he’s really determined isn’t he♪

Ren Kisaragi

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

Around 11 pm. I try to sleep before it becomes the next day at the latest. It is said that if you go to bed early, you’ll wake up early but… is that seriously true?

Tell us about your night routine!

In general I do some reading before bed. Not the E-book but the paper kind. I have books I bought on my own, though I’m mostly lending things that interest me from the library. Afterwards I confirm my alarm clock, and other alarms, and go to bed. Despite that they don’t seem to go off properly in the morning…?

What do you wear to bed?

I wear my loungewear when sleeping. However, I am looking for more suitable clothes to sleep in, although the room is controlled by the air-conditioning, it’s hot and cold for me...

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

Something interesting? Nothing comes to mind. It’s rare for the North sector to do something together, usually I’m reading in my room during the night. 

Gast Adler

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

Really late, kinda… After the day changed, before 1 am or something... ? Well, it’s still early. Before I was a hero I’d be out with my buddies till morning.

Tell us about your night routine!

Nothing really comes to mind, something like maintenance on my guns maybe? Also am often on the phone with one of the guys at night. It’s not really a routine but, often get ringed up by someone, hahah.

What do you wear to bed?

Normally a tank top. Ren goes on about how it’s hot or cold, so the air conditioning gets adjusted every time, wearing thin clothes and using my blanket when needed is good enough.

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

The other day Ren suddenly got up in the middle of the night. It scared me and I called out to him but got no answer, looking closely he was still half-asleep… He went to leave the room like that, I hurried to hold him back and put him in bed again. Hahah, Ren doesn’t seem to remember any of it though.

Leonard Wright Jr.

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

I try to be in bed around 10 pm. It’s important for a hero to keep their condition in check, so I’m keeping in mind to go to bed early and rise up early ★

Tell us about your night routine!

I try to touch my guitar buddy ‘Big Ben Jr.’ as much as I can every night. When I’m busy with Hero activities, I usually only end up doing maintenance…. I also call my older bro a lot. I tend to doze off while talking to him. 

What do you wear to bed?

Usually I sleep in my loungewear. In the case something happens I’ll be able to get up right away. I’m a Hero, it’s important to be ready for unexpected situations, don’t you think?

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

One time that shitty DJ came back in the middle of the night and while he was taking a shower, Keith drunkily fell asleep in front of the door. It was a rare sight to see a locked up shitty DJ get pretty flustered….  It made me unconsciously burst out in laughter since that doesn’t happen everyday.

Faith Beams

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

I don’t have a set bedtime, it changes depending on the day. At least I don’t need to go to bed before midnight. I mean, I’m not even in the room most of the time.

Tell us about your night routine!

Aah, girls at the club constantly bother me about it, but I don’t do anything special for skin care…… Though if it’s something before going to bed, I guess it’s organizing my texts. I get a lot of texts and messages from these girlfriends, if I leave it be the important things will get buried.

What do you wear to bed?

Often sleep in my lounge wear I guess? When I was a kid I wore pajamas but, when I entered the Academy I didn’t anymore. When I’m staying over somewhere… Aha, I’ll leave that up to your imagination♪

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

Ochibi-chan is often fast asleep when I come back to the room but… Sometimes he talks in his sleep. Some time ago he… fufu, just thinking about it again is making me laugh. What it was? Aha, I won’t say it to spare Ochibi-chan.

Billy Wise

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

Feels like it depends on the day~? There’s also times when I'm out for my work as an information broker. When I’m in the room I try to be in bed before midnight. One’s body is an important asset for an information broker and hero!

Tell us about your night routine!

Before I sleep, I do my best to organize all the information I acquired that day! Like transferring all the data to my PC, categorizing it in folders. It’s all perfectly in my head, however I always need it ready in the case I have to pull it up as a bargaining chip♪

What do you wear to bed?

Me-chin’s principle is to not wear pajamas~! I sleep in my loungewear. Ah, perhaps you might believe that I’m wearing the same clothes everyday, but fret not as I have countless of the same ones prepared for me, so I do change them☆

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

I was watching a horror movie that DJ Beams told me about with Jay and the others but… that night, I bumped into Asch-paisen in the living room. The second Paisen saw me, he jumped out of his skin.. Mfufu, I snapped the perfect picture at the right time!

Gray Reverse

Tell us about your usual bedtime!

I think around 10 pm…? I’ve always been a night owl but, ever since I became a hero I’ve been paying attention to not go to bed too late, I need to sleep earlier.

Tell us about your night routine!

Most of the time I make sure to log in in all the games I play before sleeping…. The main reason being to collect the continuing log in bonuses but, I’m juggling between lots of games so it takes a while to get to all of them.

What do you wear to bed?

I wear my loungewear when sleeping…. something like that. The material feels good to touch, wearing it makes me feel at peace. I end up wearing it the entire day on my days off because it’s my favourite…

In each sector everyone lives together. Tell us about something interesting that happened at night!

When I was watching an anime called ‘’A Dog of Françoise’’, Jay-san ran out of his room startled when he heard the sound of a dog barking. But, since it was an anime he said it was alright and we ended up watching it together… It made me happy.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

The TRUTH about Cubfan135! The Science!

Hello Internet, welcome to GAME THEORY.

Cubfan has always been a strange entity with Hermitcraft. Is he human? Vex? A meme? Cryptid? A figment of Goodtimeswithscar's imagination? The ghost of christmas capitalism? I'm here to prove to you that Mr Cubfan 'Cub' 135 is actually none of those. (Or maybe some of those.) As I have done an immense amount of research and drank so much tea to bring you the theory to end all theories:

Is Cubfan135 a villager?

Let's look at the facts.

I spent 5 whole minutes googling Cubfan's skin. He has 2 pixels across, 1 pixel high eyes. Now, due to the limitedness of minecraft skin's, we're going to use the proportions of other hermits to help us.

There are a few types of eyes found on hermits skins.

1x1 - Mumbo

2x1 - Cubfan, Etho, Hypno, Iskall, Joe Hills, Rendog, Tango, TFC, VintageBeef, XBCrafted, Xisuma, Zedaph, ZombieCleo

1x2 - Grian

2x2 - Bdouble0100, FalseSymmetry, Scar, iJevin, Impulse, StressMonster

3x3 - Docm77, Keralis

So based on this data, we found that 1/26 hermits have beedy eyes that scare me, 1/2 hermits have short but slim eyes (almond?) 1/26 have no soul, 3/13 have round eyes and 1/13 have eyes so big that you can only look into their eyes and nothing but their eyes.

So from this, we can infer that hermits with 2x1 eyes are the most dominant eye shape.

I went back on google and lo and behold, our research proves right:

But what does this have to do with Cubfan? Well, you see, Cubphan is actually apart of that 2x1 club. Wanna know who else is? The minecraft villagers.

Of course, as we've established, this is a dominant trait in the hermitcraft continuity so I wouldn't be surprised if you aren't convinced.

But what about their baldness? We know from ingame breeding mechanics that villagers are born bald meaning they most likely can't grow hair on their head to begin with. But do we have evidence that Kubfan134 was bald as a child? Well, no.

But! We do have evidence of what Cub looked like in his 'youth!' As far as I'm aware, this skin goes unused. (Don't quote me on that, if it does get used, can someone please tell me where? I really want to know the story behind this one.) Also, we have no evidence Cub didn't have hair as a child so I win.

Wanna know who else has a hairless head? The villagers! (And also potentially Xisuma. Could you imagine?)

Still not convinced? Look above their eyes. What do you see? Eyebrows. There's only 7 hermits with eyebrows (some could be argued that it's actually eyeliner, bringing that down to 4 hermits if you really wanted to) meaning either EVERYONE COLLECTIVELY SHAVED THEIR EYEBROWS OFF or it's more likely a recessive trait. And Ckubfan has that recessive trait. But who else has eyebrows? The VILLAGERS! Well actually, it's a unibrow, but because Cub's are bushy I'm just going to say that maybe villagers grow eyebrows really fast and just keep them well groomed.

But here's one more connection. What was Ckubthan135 infamous for in season 6? No, not golf or vex, his capitalism. Kub was so capitalist he and Scar made money even after closing down Concorp shops and saying "stop giving us money, we're retired." The villagers are also very capitalist, being the only other mob to have a currency and trading system.

"But Mat Pat!" I hear you plead, "if Cub was a villager, where is his nose?!" And to that I say, Villagers are humanoid, right? And Cub has many traits villagers don't. For example, a lack of visible nose, placing and destroying blocks, being able to speak, being well liked by most hermits.

So here's my theory: Cub is half villager and half human.

"But what about the Vex?!" Well my dear viewers, that's going to have to be saved for a part two. I'm sorry, I really didn't want to split this into two parts, but this script is long enough as is.

Speaking of long scripts, let's make this script even longer! So Cub is half villager and half human. But let me tell you, I think one of the hermits may be responsible for his creation. Can you guess who? I'll give you a second.

...

Had a second? Okay, drum roll please! (Table smacking noises.) Mumbo! Mumbo is Cub's dad!

"But Mat Pat! Cub is older than Mumbo!" Or is he? Time travel is an established thing in the Hermitcraft universe, so is rapid ageing/de-ageing. Just look at Scar! If he can go from 30 to 60 between seasons, Mumbo probably can too! (In reverse.)

Let's look at the genetics.

Cub had black hair? Mumbo has black hair.

Mumbo is brilliant at redstone. Perhaps he passed that on?

Their eyes aren't similar at all. Cub's are 2x1 whereas Mumbo's are a single pixel. But villagers have 2x1 eyes. But they're green and Cub's are black. But aha! Mumbo's are black so we're okay!

Both have brilliant facial hair. Facial hair growth is actually reliant on the amount of testosterone you have and given that Cub and Mumbo's voices seem to sit around the same note of A or A#, I wouldn't be surprised if they had similar amounts of testosterone.

So, Cub is a half villager half human who's dad is Mumbo Jumbo himself.

But that's just a theory... A GAME THEORY!!! Thanks for watching!

[oumaheroes]

Earthbound 1/?

Summary:

Centuries after humanity fled a dying Earth and found sanctuary in the stars, the planet has healed enough to support mankind once more. For some, there is something more than curiosity; memories from another life whisper history in familiar voices, calling them home.

 'He closes his eyes and thinks about blue flowers and large statues of stone, of ships and red coats flapping over a green meadow.'

Part 2 Part 3

……………………………………………………………………  

 Chapter 1: Scattered Amongst The Stars

Alfred is six. It was his birthday last Tuesday and he got to have a really big party and it was really really cool, but the coolest thing ever was that he got an e-tab from his Ma. Everyone at school already has an e-tab -as a July baby he's one of the youngest- so now he can finally join in with the special classes that they have and play all of those games at lunch time.

Alfred doesn't like feeling left out. It's not nice, Ma says, when you don't include people, so that means that the people who play games on their e-tabs when they know he doesn't have one are being mean on purpose and that really hurts. Except now, now he can join in and be their friend again and won't have to sit alone at his table when it's interactive e-tab time.

It's not real learning, Pa says. He didn't want Alfred to have one, says that it rots your brains and makes you lazy, and says that the e-tab time is just 'enrichment', it's not part of the curriculum because they're not learning anything, just downloading and watching stuff. Still, Ma must have talked him around because on Tuesday Alfred opened the box and there it was, all for him. There's some games on it, from Grandpa, and Ma had uploaded some of his favourite movies for him to watch as soon as he'd synced his mind up. Pa got there too, he must have done, because there's also some files on 'Earth History', 'The Fall', and one about extinct animals which Alfred really doesn't wanna read but Pa's been mentioning at least one of them every dinner since so he probably should.

He goes into school and begins to chatter happily to his friend Ben as soon as he sees him about 'Zip Blast', the current school-yard fad, and about how he can't wait to sync up and play because he'd been practising over the weekend and he thinks he's kinda good now.

Ben looks uncomfortable. 'Oh, I don't think we're playing that one any more.'

'Huh? But...' Alfred stops and looks at Ben in disbelief, 'but Friday you said it was the best ever!'

'Well it was,' Ben concedes, reluctantly, 'but now there's the new 'Rock-ite' out so we played that over the weekend.'

Alfred's heart sinks. 'We?'

His friend has the grace to look as apologetic as a six year old can look about these matters but nothing more than that and at recess Alfred is alone once more. He tells himself it's okay, he doesn't care anyway but it's a half-hearted lie at best and he doesn't try to kid himself for too long. Instead, he decides he may as well sync up one of those stuffy files Pa put on the e-tab to pass the time and nibbles a cookie to keep himself entertained.

His teacher finds him gormless, ten minutes later. His eyes are glazed as he stares unblinkingly at the wall and his cookie, one chunk missing, lies forlorn on the table next to his slack left hand but his brain is more full and awake than it's ever been. Information about a long dead planet far far away pound and crash in his head and as soon as the data file has been properly synced he reaches out for his tab and loads up another.

At eight, Alfred has become that kid. No matter what conversation he gets into or who he talks to, if there is an opening or an opportunity he will bring up Earth and once that's accomplished he can go on and on for hours. He's downloaded every possible data file he can find about the entire subject: life before the Fall, the Fall itself, and the human race's desperate escape across the stars and for him it's still never enough. There's always another e-file to sync: about ancient nations, about old sciences and religions, about old wars and songs and dances and food; every second he can spare he gives over to tales of the past woven from the binary of today.

They are a scattered people, he likes to tell his listeners, there are hundreds of us, strewn across galaxies and planets and ships and no one knows how many of us there are any more because the Fall ripped apart alliances and histories so we don't even know who else is out there to find. Everything was lost, everything; the history, the stories, the places, the-

At this point, someone usually either changes the topic of conversation or he realises that they've walked away and left him babbling to himself, his eyes shut as he imagines the flight to freedom that happened too long before he was born. Adults are usually nicer and listen for longer, but they don't mean it either and by pretending to be interested in what he has to say they only serve to hurt him more.

He just can't understand, why does no one else find this interesting? Why does no one else dream of where they as a species came from and long to see it for themselves? Alfred would do anything to feel the wind on his face, to have breeze in his hair and the sun touch his skin because although he could play in a holo-room or go on a special holo-holiday it's not real and Alfred longs to just feel it. The sun on his planet is strong but the dense material of the domes blocks it from actually reaching him; he can't feel the warmth. At school he's learnt that it's too hot out there anyway and he'd die, but according to his data files the sun should be warm and gentle and fill up summer days and spring afternoons, so he can't quite feel the danger as much as he probably should. There's no air outside the domes either and what's the point of feeling the sun without a breeze, so he's not as sad as he could have been. It wouldn't ever compare to mankind's old sun, the sun in the stories he's growing up on.

He sometimes spends his recess and lunch at school rushing about as fast as his legs can carry him. Trying to get his own wind in such space is hard, but not impossible and if he focuses hard enough on his self-made breeze he can imagine that he's running over rocks and cliffs and weaving in and out of long gone animals that only the sky can remember. If this doesn't work, he syncs with his e-files to learn about something else, he's started to get into the people recently and likes the stories about normal stuff the most. Food, clothes, toys. Relatable things that he can see in his own home and use to imagine that he's been transported back through time and space.

There are often pictures of houses and Alfred marvels as how big they are and how much stuff those people must have had, collected form all the many places they must have seen. You can't get wood any more, but maybe if he asks Pa nicely he can get him some of that building material they use for making the new domes and he can practise making his own, just to see if he can.

He spends his weekends tinkering in his room with old bits of plastic, metal and cables and every now and again he plugs in a new circuit board to the plug sockets in his room and sees if he can make the lights turn on or off from somewhere else. Last weekend he built a fan and managed to make it blow. He can sync up a sound file from Earth and imagine that he's in a town somewhere way back when and there's a breeze on his face and there's someone who wants to talk to him.

Alfred is fifteen and is the best engineer in his school. He specialised early -he'd always had a knack for building things and he's good with numbers- and now this is what he's known for. Alfred can look at a electrical hub or a circuit board and immediately he can see either what's wrong or how to improve it and this makes him valuable. He's been building and fiddling with this sort of stuff in his room for ages but now it's finally cool, people actually want him to do that now. He sees it as a lucky thing, that he was bullied so much for it previously, because now he can see how much bullshit people like to throw when they want you to do something, how much an opinion of someone can change depending on their age and talent. Too good too young: weird and a nerd, you're wasting your time. Then you hit the right age and suddenly you're very experimental, very mature, it's good to know what you want in life. But ah, still young enough not to know your worth, you'll fix this for me for free, yes? If he wasn't as good as he is, he thinks, how valuable would they think I am? The answer scares him because he knows what it is and knows how thin the line he treads is; there are others like him, don't forget.

What even is he, without the skills of his hands?

He is seventeen. Alfred hates it, but Ma could use the help and Pa's not getting any younger, so he accepted an offer not too long ago for a entry level job in the government engineering department. It is an amazing offer for someone so young and fresh out of school, he knows that, but as much as he enjoys what he does the days wear him out and he spends less time listening to his e-files and more time building the dreams of others far more affluent than he.

He thinks he's doing okay for a while. The days whittle by easily and he starts to build up a nice savings pile that he uses to help out his parents every now and again. But he's nothing special. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of kids just like him on this planet who have been fed on a diet of strict, specialised schooling meant to produce only the best and Alfred knows that the only thing which sets him apart from the many many many others is his ability to just keep going. There is no safety in what he does at his age, no net to catch him if he slips up, so he begins to take on private jobs at the weekend to build up his CV further and get his name out there, making the chance of falling just that bit smaller. Before he realises it it's been a month since he last had the time set aside to listen to an e-file and that hits him, hard. He'd never had to set aside time before. Hell, he can't remember when he'd last done anything other than go to work, come home to sleep, and repeat.

He's struck by the monotony of it all. He can't see a difference between his life and that of his dad's, or his dad's friends, or anyone he knows, for that matter. Is this all there is? Is this all anyone does? When is there ever a break? Then, he gets it. There won't be a break. As soon as you can't keep up in this crazy race he's in, you're worthless. He's kind of been kidding himself, almost, that there'd be an end to it all, like a video game where you complete the level and then suddenly it's free play. You work hard to get a reward of, of something, or at least you can stop worrying and panicking about being left behind. There is no free play, he realises, it just keeps on going until you can't play any more because life has ground out your energy and sucked the vitality from your bones.

He goes running; pounding his feet on the treadmill he sucks in the humid air around him and imagines than he's running through an old Earthen jungle, dodging trees and leaping over crags in the forest floor. But there's no wind, and Earth refuses to come alive.

Alfred is eighteen. A message came through from Earth, old true Earth, that a new colony there is doing well and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it since, thinking and dreaming about what he'd do if he ever went there, if he ever set up his life there instead of here. He could...no. There is no safety in history, he knows. There is no definite chance that anyone would want him to do that. Besides, there's no potential for definite growth, no stable career plan because you can't guarantee a career on digging up the scanty past of a long dead planet. But no matter how big of a safety net he could make for himself in engineering he feels no passion about any of it and the idea of spending his days encapsulated in this metal world of domes and tunnels makes him feel cold.

There's something that calls him in his dreams and whispers over the wind in his mind and this builds and builds in his feet until he can't keep them still any longer. One more look out of the window and up at the stars and he's gonna blow, he needs to get out and go go go because if he doesn't then he's gonna sink in this place.

Before he can stop himself he's bought a ticket and finds himself packing hurriedly late at night when his parents are asleep, stuffing clothes into the only bag he only which is far too small for this sort of thing but who the fuck travels anywhere these days? He hasn't got time to be better at this so he crouches under his bed and reaches in, all the way back until his hand scrapes the wall and he finds his old fan that he built when he was eight. He puts it on his bed, places his e-tab next to it with a message of what he's done and that's that.

He slips out without waking his parents, because saying goodbye would only be too hard and he knows that he'd end up changing his mind if they spoke even one word to him, so he says his farewells in silence and disappears.

................................................................................................................................

Peter is five and he sits upon his mother's knee, playing with the buttons on her shirt. She's with other adults and they're all talking about something that he doesn't really understand but they all sound sad and the air feels heavy so he keeps quiet like a good boy should and thinks about other things to keep himself busy. He thinks about the e-book his nanny got him last Christmas, the one with the pretty pictures, and thinks that it would be nice to live inside that book, with the greens of grass that he's never touched before. He wonders if grass is hard or soft and he spends so long thinking of this that that night, when he is sleeping, he dreams that he is running on grass and it is prickly, tickling his feet.

There is a voice in the dream, singing him the story but it is not Nanny's voice, nor Mummy's or Daddy's, but another man's and the lilt of his voice sings a language Peter doesn't know but it is a good voice for story telling and so the dream is vivid and touchable. He flies through the grass, feet pounding at earth instead of metal and the voice chuckles, deep and throaty. It makes him feel safe.

He wakes up because his Mummy is stroking his hair and forgets; school teaches him about how the air system in his dome works. Grass isn't as important as breathing.

He is eight and they are learning about the old Earthen languages. There used to be many, his teachers says, and each language held a culture, a history and a soul of a people and there used to be hundreds of them on Earth before it Fell. The teacher is old; his words are flat and there is no passion in his tone, but a thrill runs up Peter's arms as he imagines so much more. From the nothing he is given his brain decides to give those dead languages life and all of a sudden there are bursts of sound echoing inside his head. The teacher moves on, the class sits bored, but Peter can hear consonants clash against teeth and tongue and fricatives slip between breathy vowels. There are phonemes which glide between dipthongs and tripthongs to bound and fall out of the hundreds of mouths of hundreds of people; whispers of a past no one can hear tell stories long forgotten.

There is a clap very close to his head which scares all of the sounds away. His teacher looms over him, frowning in exasperation.

'Again, Peter?' he says, 'Stop daydreaming, boy. I asked you a question.'

'Er...' his classmates snicker and he feels his ears go red. 'I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't listening.'

'That much was obvious.'

Peter's cheeks burn hotter and he stares at his e-tab, focusing on the light of the screen to stop him from crying.

Before too long the lesson changes, then the day ends and he's allowed to go home. He walks alone through the corridors and exits the school dome, coming into the shuttle bus bay. He's a big boy now, he can take the shuttle bus all by himself and he has a special card to prove it. Weaving in and out of the other children, he hurries to where his bus is docked and scrambles inside to rush to his favourite seat, hopping up and placing his bag on the seat beside him. He likes to sit alone, because then he can stare out of the window and dream for as long as the journey will let him without worrying about talking to someone. Not that anyone wants to anyway, the other children say he's not got a brain because he would rather focus on the story in his head than on their silly games.

Nanny doesn't mind, she says it's good for people to dream and says that he goes off to somewhere called 'Neverland' whilst she pinches his cheeks and calls him her little Peter Pan. But when he gets home Nanny isn't there, Mummy and Daddy are and they're huddled in front of the large e-screen in the sitting room, faces pinched in worry.

He drops his bag by the kitchen table and goes to join them. There is a man on the screen speaking about their air ventilation system and a 'catastrophic degradation' and about some big numbers with a scientist nodding seriously to his left.

'What do we do now?' His mother's voice is hushed, fragile.

His father raises his eyes to her and shakes his head slowly. 'Debbie... you heard what he said. The planet's no longer viable.' His eyes flick towards Peter, suddenly aware that he's there too, and he smiles although it doesn't reach his eyes. 'Hey Pete. Do you mind doing your homework in your room today?'

Peter could ask why, but he sees that his Daddy doesn't want him to and Mummy looks like she's going to cry, so he glances once more at the screen and nods. He leaves them with the scary looking numbers and tips his books onto his bed. That night he dreams of waves crashing against his legs and he tastes the salt on his lip when he wakes.

At nine, there's some breaking news. Earth, of all things Earth, is habitable once more and it can't come at a better time. Peter sits on his favourite sofa at Nan's house, with his father having lunch, when the planet-wide intercom coughs its way to life and briefly deafens them all before the sound adjusts ever so slightly.

'ATTENTION ALL. PRIMARY SUPPORT SYSTEMS FOR THE SOUTH SIDE HAVE SUFFERED AN IRREPERABLE MALFUNCTION. BACKUP SYSTEMS WILL HOLD FOR APPROXIMATLY 3 HOURS AND 45 MINUTES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL; MAKE YOUR WAY TO YOUR EVACUATION POINTS.'

Then, it falls silent once more.

South side, that's them. Peter immediately feels as though he's going to be sick and by the look on his dad's face he's not alone. Once one half of the planet goes the other will surely follow. It's something they've all been expecting and planning for for years, but it's far, far too soon, they should have more time than this; they're not ready to go and the government's not even started the evacuation programme yet. His Nan shoots a look at his father from where she's sat in her armchair. It's a look Peter can't really read because there's something there that he subconsciously doesn't want to acknowledge.

'Earth?' Her voice is a thin whisper.

His father nods gravely. 'We got them Mum, the tickets came yesterday.' Peter's heart briefly lifts at the prospect, a longing that's deep and euphoric but then it crashes quickly. 'But...'

His Nan smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. 'I know.'

Slowly, with growing horror, Peter understands. 'Wait,' he whips his head back and forth between the two of them, 'Nanny, where-'

'Don't worry, Peter,' she gets up and goes to kneel in front of where he's frozen in his chair, hands digging nails into the old material, 'I'll get on one of the other evacuation ships.'

'But you're not-,' his eyes burn and his voice is breaking but he doesn't look away, 'but you're not with us, why aren't you coming with us.'

'Oh Peter, my little Peter Pan,' she hugs him tight, pulling him in to her chest and he grips his hands in her shirt and tries to take in as much of her as he can.

'Mum we- we have to go.' Dad doesn't sound much better and before Peter can register much his Dad is hugging his Nan with a funny tight look on his face, then he's being pulled by the arm and out of the door, stumbling over his feet as he tries to keep up.

A terse shuttle bus later they get home to his mother already throwing their things into cases and boxes, haphazardly grabbing at e-frames and e-tabs to squash them and their memories safe under piles of their clothes. Peter could help, should help, but all he can do it sit numbly on the floor and cry whilst his life is collected and contained into a few measly bags. The rest will be left.

It doesn't take too long, thankfully, as Peter doesn't know what's worse, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible or wanting to stay and cling to the remnants of the only life he's ever known. As they make their way to the loading bays for the Earth-bound travellers he blearily finds himself thinking about what classes he'll miss in school tomorrow, but then he remembers Nanny and the ordeal starts anew as reality sets back in.

His parents are focused on more practical things.

They stand in line, their few pieces on luggage already being loaded on, and wait to board the ship they were assigned to only yesterday. His mother speaks under her breath, as if she is afraid to talk too loudly for fear of jinxing something. 'The Earth ships aren't even ready. They won't have enough food let alone rooms.'

His father shakes his head and slips his hand down to intertwine with hers. 'They must have known something like this could happen at any time, they've been predicting it for years. If anything, the rooms may not be ready but the agricultural sections will be.' He looks determinedly at the back of the head of the man in front of them and swallows. 'They only give out tickets if there's room. We'll be fine.'

Peter's mother glances his way meaningfully, and then back to his father.

'Jo, there're not enough ships; no one was ready in time. They can't have planned for everyone.' She bites the inside of her cheek, one hand on Peter's shoulder. Her fingers dig in, hard, but he doesn't try to shrug her off. He can barely feel it.

His father understands. 'She'll call us when she can.' Then, the line moves and they lurch forward together, huddled close.

Just before the door, where the tickets are being checked and where the din of the engines roaring into life starts to become uncomfortable, his father takes one last desperate look at out of the window at the distant domes of their colony, nestled in the dust. He taps an impatient rhythm against the tiled floor. 'She'll call.'

She never does.

................................................................................................................................

Francis is three and his daddy has just left Mummy.

'He went to fight,' she says as she strokes his hair. This confuses him because fighting is bad and you're only allowed to fight if someone tries to fight you first and no one has been nasty to Daddy that he's seen.

Mummy doesn't answer but continues to stroke his hair, humming softly a tune she sings to him every night before bed that sounds old and sad and sleepy, so he just nods and rests his head heavily against her chest.

He doesn't see his Daddy again.

He is ten when he realises that there never was any war. The notion strikes him dumb one day in the kitchen as he distantly listens to the news playing through the announcer when he helps wash up after dinner. The announcer is speaking about something banal, a fashion show maybe, but Francis is staring out of the window and up at the sky, up at the stars that push through the daytime's thin atmosphere. He doesn't know what caused him to start this train of thought, but once it's started his brain quickly pieces together the puzzle that it has ignored all of this time.

At school they were taught about wars, about age old battles with guns and swords and metal where blood was spilt over land and the wealth it contained. But, there hasn't been any fighting here. He scrubs a glass, sponge squeaking against the side. And even if there was fighting somewhere far away, his dad would surely still be able to write or visit, or come back after all this time. And more importantly, if there was a war going on now then surely he would have learnt about it at school, rather than learning about age old political struggles on the human-ruined home world.

His mother takes the glass from his slack grip. 'Daydreaming?'

He shakes himself to and looks at her. Turned away and out of the window her face is suddenly older and oddly clearer than he remembers it being, she looks like a person rather than just his mother and that's a scary thought. It's as though the wash of childhood has momentarily slipped away and he's now aware of both it and the harsh brushstrokes of reality. She's a person and feels things, just like he does. So it hurts, that she lied, and it will hurt him for a long time because he doesn't know why but cannot for the life of him bring himself to ask her. Francis is good at reading people and he knows that this isn't something he should ask about, so turns back to the dirty dishes and doesn't.

When Francis is fifteen there is a war, of sorts. The planet nearest to them, the one they rely on the most for trade, switches governmental policies and refuses to continue their current agreements. This results in a breakdown of communication and heightened tension between the two colonies, each bristling angrily at the offence yet unwilling to be the first to initiate anything rash. There is minor rationing imposed upon Francis' planet until trade is re-established as well as a draft of specialisation training implemented, just in case. He's unaffected by the rationing; the draft is a different story. Just in case this trade block becomes permanent, his planet needs to be prepared to become fully self sufficient in everything from science, to food, to art, to the army.

The block stays in place and tensions rise. Against his wishes, Francis is assigned a scientific draft. He is now seventeen and knows he needs to be given something but he'd prefer agriculture or education to research, if he could have the choice, or the arts if he's allowed to dream. He isn't. He brain is good, his grades are high and thus he is far more useful to the cause working on the advancement of his planet than working to help feed it.

A few days after his birthday and a month after his posting letter arrives, his mother rides with him on a shuttle to his boarding station. He will try out four different areas: mechanics, medicine, biology, and physics, then he will be assigned to what he works with best, where he can produce the best work possible. But Francis can't think of anything worse than being stuck in a lab all day, shutters drawn and devoid of all personality. Even worse, he's heard the rumours that have managed to float back from those who have graduated and knows that once he boards this ship there's no escaping the life he'll be moulded into. The programme is four years long and then he will be placed into a job where he will stay until he dies. At twenty one he will have no other skills for work other than what he will acquire at the science facility, there is no swapping careers afterwards. He wants to do so much, there is so much that he loves to do, and with each passing shuttle stop his heart grows more frantic, fighting his brain which has accepted the inevitable.

He gets physics. He calls his mother to howl down the phone once, just once, before he realises the futility of doing so; nothing can or will change. Accept it.

At twenty, a year before his training would end, there is finally a truce. Trade resumes and Francis finally tastes sugar after five years but now, after so long, the taste is too much. Not fully qualified yet too old to be automatically accepted into another programme, Francis is in limbo. There isn't much point in him continuing his training, there are more than enough specialists now and not enough jobs to give them, so there isn't anything for him to do. It's odd, now that there is nothing to work towards he feels empty but at the same time everything is just too much. He returns home and his mother fusses and tries to talk to him, tries to get him to come out of his room and sit with her and he did, at first, but the longer he's home the shorter his resistance is and the longer the 'breaks' are in his room.

Emotions seem to be harder to process without a goal, that or he never had many to begin with and without something to distract him from that notion he's finally noticing how few he has. Either way, other people are small insignificant creatures who worry about such useless, banal things. Who did what, with who and where. Did you know, her son the doctor? Well, he's a you know what now and- ugh. Francis can no longer take it.

He doesn't really see this as a problem. He feels as though he's risen above other people and finally understands that such things are not worth his time; why worry, after all, about what job to get. Why worry about whether or not someone likes you. Every day, regardless of what they do, the planet will spin and the domes will reflect the same bleak, churning sky and Francis realises that he's trapped here, by this life and that his life means nothing. None of their lives do, it's all the same; nowhere new to go, nothing new to do. Pick a job, do the job. Come home, go back. Retire. Die.

So he sits in his room, because if he talks to his mother or to anyone else he is reminded that somehow he's supposed to care about it, that life here is supposed to matter to him just as it matters to everyone else. His mother will mention this or that and he'll have to either fake the responses she wants, or not and upset her and neither option sounds pleasing to him.

After years of monotony and training suddenly he is permitted to express again and it's like he's forgotten how, the parts rusty after all the disuse. There are too many emotions and he finds himself forgetting to use them or using the wrong ones because he can't do them automatically any more, for some reason, and reactions that call for an understanding of nuance are just lost to him. Very quickly everything is too much. Food, heat, depth, people, concepts, everything.

He hides away but then they stop becoming too much and they shrink and shrivel up and become nothing at all he can feel how empty he is. Nothing can fill the void he's got because he doesn't even know why it's there and he can scarcely tell that there's a problem in the first place. He does knows he's got a problem though, really, knows how serious it is by the way his mother watches him with fearful eyes and baleful glances. She tiptoes tentatively around the house, carefully softening her words and her gentleness feels like a pressure cooker slowly but surely building something that's going to get bigger and hotter and harder to make go away. She avoids talking about it, about how Francis feels or doesn't, and by doing so the problem is allowed to grow, unchecked. Francis doesn't have to act any more, doesn't have to pretend, and so the feelings of apathy grow and grow until they swallow him whole and all he can bring himself to do is sit and stare and the sky, a dark choking yellow.

It feels heavy to look at, like a lid covering everything in his life, all potential, all future, all growth. It just festers and sinks lower and lower still and he sits and watches it for days before he's realised he's done so.

When Francis is twenty-two, his mother breaks. Not that she herself breaks, but her patience does.

'I can't do this any more.' she says. There are tears on her face and Francis watches one slide off and fall onto her collar. 'You need to go.'

Francis appraises her properly, meeting her eyes. She flinches at his gaze but remains resolute in her decision, though her bottom lip quivers. 'There's nothing for you here, we both know that. You don't want to be here, so you need to go.'

'I don't want to be anywhere.' he replies.

She gives him a watery smile. 'I know. That's why, you might as well see if you can want to be somewhere else.' She lifts up her arm and shows him her e-tab, the translucent screen showing a brightly coloured ticket. 'I've bought you a flight. It's Earth, it was declared habitable a few weeks ago.'

Francis knows he should feel something, this is one of those instances when he knows that he should be feeling something but he can't quite imagine what emotion he should give her.

She doesn't seem to expect one. 'It's one way. And this, this is all of my savings, Francis.' Her eyes are wide and her face is suddenly so very very old. 'If you don't want to be any more, at least make that decision once you've seen this. You can't go without seeing this, after all. See this, see it for me and then you can decide, okay?'

Suddenly she looks shocked and runs forward to embrace him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and knocking her e-tab into his face. The garish purple of the ticket burns his eyes. 'Oh Francis.' She sobs into his shoulder and clutches tightly into his shirt. 'Oh Francis it's okay, you can cry if you want to.'

Oh.

He's crying.

................................................................................................................................

Ludwig is six, and is sick again. The doctors don't know what's wrong with him; they know what's causing it at least but they have no idea why. He can't keep food down and every time he tries to stand the world pitches and swims and he can't keep his balance so he never manages to stay up for long before he bonelessly falls to the floor, where he feels no better.

It's the gravity, the doctors say, for some reason he's affected by the gravity. The artificial gravity that he's known all his life; it's as if he's just climbed aboard and his body suffers from relapses where it just can't acclimatise. Where it suddenly realises that something's not quite right and rebels against him for a week or so. This his family already knows, but his mother isn't satisfied with such a lacklustre answer so she takes him to a different doctor every time he suffers another attack just in case one of them is even marginally more competent than the last. These 'episodes', as his mother likes to call them, don't happen all that often, but he seems to have one every ten months or so and they are regular enough to annoy his mother to no end. Ludwig doesn't really know if she's annoyed that no one can fix him or with him himself, Gilbert won't say and normally his big brother talks to pretend that he knows something so his silence worries Ludwig the most.

Mother is a very important person with a very important job: she's a governor of the space station upon which they live and it is very important that Ludwig remembers this. So, when he's laying in bed clutching at his belly and desperately clenching his eyes shut to minimise the swaying, his friends at school think that he is away for a special training academy. Because can you just imagine, the governor of a space station's son being space sick?

His father doesn't like to call it that because he thinks it's degrading so his mother doesn't, when she thinks Ludwig can't hear, anyway, but Ludwig knows that's what the kids at school would say so he happily keeps mum because it's easier than lying. They don't talk to him much besides, they find him too cold and distant but that's because he's so scared of disgracing his mother further that he can't quite relax fully.

When Ludwig is thirteen his mother, after exhausting all doctors aboard their large floating colony, finally accepts that it's unlikely that this small problem of his is going to go away. Her way of dealing with it is to pretend that it just doesn't happen; during an attack Ludwig is sent to his room where he stays painfully alone with only his books for company whilst she busies herself with her new campaigns. She's running for director now, aiming as high as she can go and there's no room for weak, feeble Ludwig all the way up there.

His brother tries his best to keep him entertained and happy during these times, but Gilbert is healthy, strong, smart; he's everything that Ludwig should also be able to grow up to be and their parents have sent him off to expensive schools which means that he's more often away from home than not. Sometimes Ludwig wonders if they've sent him away because they want Gilbert to be the all around best he can be, or if it's to distance him as much as they can from Ludwig. It's almost as if they're worried that Ludwig will taint him, or that maybe Gilbert will grow too attached to him and distract himself from what's really important. That Ludwig will anchor him down.

At five years older it's highly unlikely that Ludwig will be the one doing the influencing, but his brother, despite hardly seeing each other and such a large age difference, does seem to genuinely care for him. During one particular attack, when Ludwig is eighteen, Gilbert is home from university; it is almost Christmas and his family are preparing to travel to where his grandparents live on the other side of the space station, where they'll spend the holiday. Of course, it is now that his body decides to betray him.

He, his parents, and his brother are gathered around the large dining room table finishing off dinner. It is tense. Mostly it is Gilbert who talks because despite their mother's cool demeanour and their father's lack of interest he seems to always have something to say to fill the silence and speaks easily. Even with the response he gets, or lack of it, he seems honestly unperturbed and remains cheerful, somehow managing to both eat and speak without seeming impolite. As much as he loves his brother, Ludwig is also supremely jealous.

He stares at his fork, contemplating which point in the evening would be best to ask if he could slip away, when his body decides for him. His stomach swoops, his ears pop and the table tilts alarmingly. He clenches the edge in panic to remain upright and the noise alerts his mother, who looks up from her dessert in irritation.

'Ludwig, we are going away tomorrow.'

'M- mother-'

His mother sighs and looks at his father, who sharply stares back. 'Dear?'

His father grunts and spears another forkful of fruit pie. 'They're expecting him to come.'

'But the photographers-'

'What do you want me to do, Hilda?'

Meanwhile, Ludwig has still not been dismissed and cannot now seem to find the words to ask for permission himself without spewing all over the fancy silverware. He doubts that that will make the situation better, somehow. Gilbert notices and stands, attracting his parents' attention.

'I'll take Luddy to his room.'

'Darling...' their mother tries to say something, but it's what she's trying not to say that comes across the loudest.

Gilbert ignores her and walks around the table, slowly helping Ludwig to his feet, then away from the table and swiftly towards a bathroom. They make it just in time. Gilbert pats him comfortingly on the back and rubs soothing circles into his shoulders until he's finished, then hands him a glass of water.

'So, they're still arseholes, huh?'

Ludwig snaps his head up in horror, but this is a bad idea because the image of Gilbert swims before him and he has to shut his eyes.

'Don't call them that.' He finally manages, weakly.

Gilbert tuts. 'What the fuck did they feed you with in order to churn your personality out.'

Ludwig lays his head on the cool tiles of the floor and groans inwardly at how nice the feeling is. 'They're not arseholes.'

'Yeah, and my name's Shirley.'

Ludwig cracks open an eye, but Gilbert's not joking. He is, for once, deadly serious. 'How'd you put up with them Lud?'

Ludwig shrugs and gives a small shake of his head. 'They're our parents, Gil. They still care for me. Besides, I'm not exactly making it easy for them.'

Gilbert looks disgusted. 'You're their fucking son, arsehole. They're supposed to take care of you. They ain't even doing that right are they?' Gilbert runs a hand through his shock of white hair and bits his bottom lip whilst he shakes his head. 'Look at how they treat you versus me.'

'Yes, but I'm not exactly-'

'But nothing!' Gilbert raises his voice slightly and swallows. When he speaks again, he's much quieter, back under control. 'Have they got you in a university programme yet?'

Ludwig's silence is answer enough and Gilbert sighs deeply before brushing back Ludwig's sweaty fringe. 'There's nothing wrong with you Lud.' His brother sounds so very sad. 'Fuck, there's nothing wrong with you at all. They know full well that if they put you on a planet rather than this floating heap of rust that you'll probably be alright. And have they? Have they fuck.'

Ludwig wants to argue against him, wants to say something to stand up for himself if not for their parents but his eyes are suddenly burning and his throat is choked up. He knew a long time ago that his parents had given up on him, but to hear it from someone else hurts more sharply than anything he tells himself.

There's an odd companionable silence for a while; Ludwig lays still with his face against the floor and his brother's hand carding through his hair so he almost misses what Gilbert says next.

'I was gonna wait till Boxing Day, but I've got us tickets for Earth.'

Ludwig tenses and holds his breath. Gilbert continues. 'I was gonna wake you up on the 26th and take you away with me, but I want to tell you now instead, cause you look like shit. We're gonna get out of here Luddy; I've always wanted to take you to a planet and what better one is there than the original, huh?'

'You, I- you can't- what about your studies? The internship you've got?' Ludwig manages to stammer out, opening his eyes.

Gilbert brushes his concerns aside. 'I never liked medicine, really. I've always wanted to go to a planet, so I'm mega up for it.'

Ludwig knows he should say no, knows that he shouldn't take up the offer. He'd be denying his brother so much, he'd be exactly what their parents worried he'd be because he'll only drag Gilbert down and down and down like a heavy lead weight and ruin all of his chances at a good life.

But Ludwig wants to be selfish. He reaches out and clasps onto Gilbert's hand, squeezing it tightly. 'Gil...'

Gilbert flashes him a grin and winks. 'I know, right? How awesome am I?'

[caraway-ship]

// Playing recording… //

The colony of Ors was never meant to be permanent. We were never meant to last more than a few years, and then get replaced by the actual settlers. The palladium and lead deposits detected on Aurum-3 had left the higher ups promised profits, riches found once in a lifetime. [[MORE]] They scraped together a ragtag colony kit, just a few pressurized habs and barebones life support, not even an atmosphere processor to our name. They outfitted it with whomever they could get on the shortest notice, and well, starting out as an exocartographer is difficult. You take what you can get. I wasn’t set off by the three days given to prepare to ship out, at least not enough to not be allured by the handsome paycheck they offered, cash upfront in return for shipping out before their survey data was released publicly and one of their enemies saw the treasure waiting. I wasn’t expecting to do much, maybe a few survey missions, mostly just sitting around until the actual colony fleet arrived. Well. That’s what I expected at least.

When the survey team first saw the outer edge of the phenomenon, they thought it was just another weird feat of geology. With the millions of worlds out there, there were plenty to go around. This one was unlike what I’d ever seen before, huge geometric spires shooting at discordant angles from the ground. The techs with their worldshell ultrasound imagers said the deposits were centered some sixty kilometers in from the slight curve that was the edge of the phenomenon, and I was in the first survey team they sent in to investigate. 

We were supposed to find a good spot for mining, and I was to map the area. What we thought at the time were ravines and canyons, hard-edged and black as basalt, seemed to close in around us as we approached the center. Our geologist, Harrison, had sampled it: A Lead-graphite alloy, seemingly, almost uniform throughout the outer edges of the phenomenon. They had surmised that this may have been a meteorite at one point, crashing down, the fires of atmospheric drag melting it until it melted and filled its crater, creating a perfectly flat, almost perfectly round disk. 

And that’s the other thing that spoke to me as odd - It was nearly perfectly flat. Not flat like the surface of a planet, fitting in with the curvature of the planet, but flat as a plane. It gave the eerie feeling of a slight downwards slope towards the center, sickeningly subtle. 

I did my best to track our progress, using GPS and some satellite imaging to create a map of our path. Despite each corridor feeling the same as they last, there was no discernable pattern to our movement towards the center. Connection to our main settlement was out, the company had skimped on comsats and our only one went on the fritz a week before we had left on the survey mission. Typical. Normally, we would also have been connected directly to Ors Command, but the mass of black spikes lying between us and them ensured that didn’t happen. 

At around forty kilometers towards the center, our driver stopped. The walls, which had now noticeably started to creep in closer, had gotten too close to safely pilot the rover through. We conversed briefly, and decided to split up. The first group, including me, Harrison, and a marine named Clint, would go on ahead, taking one of the rover’s tent habs and light pressure suits to try and make it to the center. Our pilot, engineer, and researcher would stay back to try and find another way through for the rover. We packed our bags, taking surveying equipment, radio beacons with centuries-lasting RTG batteries to mark our path and meals enough for three weeks. It would only take a day or two to reach the center, but erring on the side of caution never hurt anyone. 

The next morning, as we set out, the sheer scale and immensity of the phenomena we found ourselves surrounded by set in. Spires of dull black metal, thirty meters tall now, seemed to be set to cascade down around us. I was on edge at all times, looking out for signs of the first to start to fall. 

Progress that day was relatively slow, compared to the rover. We made about 10 km that day, having to rig beacons between and to the sides of spikes in order to set them upright. They wouldn’t dig into the leaden floors. I had remarked to Harrison, them being one of the people I worked the most closely with, that I was reminded of a demonstration I was shown as a schoolchild growing up on Shisurna station, a collection of ferromagnetic nanoparticles suspended in an oil, making hard spikes as a magnet moved under it. I shuddered, imagining the spikes here flowing and crashing back into the plane beneath us, with us between them. 

That night, as we set camp in the now 3 meter wide corridor, Harrison called me over to show me something. While we had been walking, they had noticed a sheen over a patch of one of the spikes, and had managed to scrape off a sample. “It’s gold,” They said. “Bet my life on it.” 

The next day, we began to see more and more of that sheen, then gilded patches like discolorations in birch bark. We were fascinated, and Harrison puzzled over what may have caused it. It couldn’t have been part of the original meteorite, unless it was solely in one point. Otherwise, they said, we would have found similar patches all throughout the phenomenon. They were still unsure of what may have caused the spikes themselves, but were sure there was some explanation, if their bouncing ideas off of me was any sign. 

The spikes surrounding us grew as we approached, reaching now thirty meters or more into the grey sky. We were having to pick our way through them, sometimes climbing up one then sliding back down others as the paths grew too narrow to traverse. They also grew in girth, some growing to as much as ten meters at the base. We were dwarfed in comparison, and my combined awe and horror at their sheer size peaked as our contact with the rover was lost. 

The patches of gold continued to grow in size and intensity along with the spires themselves, sometimes leaving streaks 5 meters long in the cold black metal. My best efforts to find some sort of pattern in the layout of the monotonous cacophony surrounding us failed, and I struggled to plot a path as we nearly altogether stopped following the channels through the leaden ground. Then, it all stopped.

   

The ground before us opened up, spikes suddenly stopping before a circular clearing, about 1 kilometer in diameter. Perfectly flat ground lay ahead, streaks of gold flaring out in all directions as if they were caught fleeing something. The center was almost all coated in gold, flecks and streaks of black lead abruptly breaking through. In the very center, jaggedly curved arches about 15 meters tall stood in a circle. The sheen was impossible to ignore, and despite the ashen atmosphere, rays broke through to glare off the arches. They stood menacingly, their shadows cast fifty meters to a side. We spent some time setting up camp a bit out from the arches, then took more time investigating them.

   

When Harrison and I reconvened, they were almost imperceptibly shaking. After discussing with them their findings, we had come to the same conclusion: There was no denying the evidence, no natural causes could have crafted this phenomenon. The arches height, perfectly dividable by pi, and their purpose: A sundial, left no room for nature. But why? If they had crafted this, surely they would have known the barren wastes surrounding it, would have recognized the futileness of placing something important here, where it would be nigh-impossible to reach. 

   

Our discussion was halted almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of pressure release, then vomiting. During our discussion, we had neglected to pay any mind to Clint, who had been investigating all the while. He had wandered into the center of the arches, and was peering at a circular groove I had noticed while walking through. There he now sat, helmet off, hands on knees, vomiting. The vomit was tinged red, I saw, as Harrison and I rushed towards him. As we approached, I realized what I had mistaken for a groove was, in fact, incredibly small text, engraved in the golden floor. In common script, in my native language, Uraian, a thousand times over in a thousand tongues, a singular phrase. 

“THERE IS NO HONOR TO BE FOUND HERE” 

   

Harrison knelt beside Clint, now collapsed in the center of the circle, blood dripping from his lips. I noticed a pale red discoloration on his cheek, then another, then ten more. I then involuntarily stepped back in revulsion, as his abnormally pale face became coated in a hundred welts, seeming to bubble and ripple as they grew and spread. His face contorted in pain, and he coughed, spattering crimson across the smooth gold. Then he didn’t move. 

   

Harrison turned to look at me, and I saw the same welts begin to bubble under their skin through their faceplate. They must have seen my expression, or maybe just felt the pain, as they began to scrabble at their faceplate. 

My mind, despite my horror, couldn’t help but posit a question, one that may just save my life. Why them? Why hadn’t I been infected? I staggered back again in horror, then another step, then I turned and sprinted as fast as my pressure suit would allow on the slick metal ground. I felt it first on my legs. A dull burning, slowly growing in intensity as it spread up my limbs and reached my chest. I could no longer feel anything but the burning, and I collapsed behind the arch’s pillar as I began to feel it creep onto my palms and face. Immediately, the intensity died down. It’s still there. I can feel it. Creeping, slowly, corrupting and twisting of it’s own volition, taking and turning and burning… I was lucky enough to have the time to take this down. I don’t know how long I’ll last. I was lucky enough that the survey cameras have a microphone, now that my datapad seems to not be working. There’s no promise that this will make it out, but let it serve only as a warning. The riches aren’t worth the cost. This place is cursed, it’s promises are false, a lure. Hnn. I can feel it again, the burning. I can’t feel my legs anymore. Fuck.

// End recording. //

Recovered from Aurum-3 by remotely piloted drone.

The bodies of colonists recovered from the phenomenon seemed to have been symptoms of severe ultraviolet burns, as well as last-stage cancer in multiple spots on their cadaver.

Cause of death ruled as multiple organ failure.

[eevee-eclair]

For Science

Written by EeveeEclair

TW: kissing, someone almost has a panic attack, tell me if I missed one!

Random side note: This fic was made for @panicatthehottopical! I hope it came out okay! (I’m so sorry it took so long!)

<~~~~~>

Logan had no emotions. This was a fact. Another fact was that his three best friends were in a romantic relationship. So you can imagine how confused and scared he felt when he realized he wanted to kiss them.

But, seeing as he was ’emotionless’, he told himself it was purely scientific. Nothing more, nothing less. So here he was, walking down the stairs to the commons to begin his experiment. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. But, he would do anything for science.

“Oh! Hey Logan!” Patton called when he was down the stairs.

“Hello, Patton,” he greeted. He could feel his face heating up as he took in the moral side. He was wearing his cat onesie with the hood down, showing off his messy brown hair. He shook it from his head. There were more pressing matters at hand. “I have a question to ask if all of you.”

“Fire away,” Virgil said.

His voice seemed to die in his throat. “I… uhm…” oh God, he couldn’t do this!

“Specks? You doing okay?” Roman asked. Logan didn’t look at him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to speak.

Gathering his last bits of courage and throwing his pride out the window, he went for it. “I would like to conduct an experiment,” he said.

“What kind?” Patton asked. “Oh! Are we gonna bake?”

“No,” he told him. “But I was wondering… uhm…” he could do this! They were his friends, they won’t judge him. “Iwantyoualltokissmeforscience!” He rushed.

It took a moment for them to figure out what he said, but when they did Roman was the first to make a move.

Standing up and walking over to him, Roman cupped Logan’s cheek. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He asked, closing the distance.

Logan took note that Roman tasted like dark chocolate and strawberries, but he smelled like he had just come back from an adventure in the Imagination. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t sad when it ended.

Roman smirked at Logan’s blushing face. “Well?” He asked. “What are my results, nerd?”

Logan blinked and backed away. “I—“ before he could finish, Patton came up and pulled his tie, bringing him to his level.

“Me next! Me next!” He cried, mashing their lips together.

Logan desperately tried to remember that Patton tasted like milk and honey and smelled like freshly baked cookies. He tried to make it last longer but didn’t want to pull off as desperate, so he let Patton end the kiss just like Roman had. Again, he ignored the sad feeling when he pulled away.

“Okay! Virge, your turn!” Patton said, grabbing Virgil from off the couch and shoving him in Logan’s direction. He had shoved him so hard Logan lost his balance and began to fall backwards, but Virgil was quicker and caught him.

Virgil smiled at him and kissed him right there. Logan noticed that Virgil tasted like coffee and one of Patton’s cookies and it mixed beautifully with the softness of the kiss. But again, he felt empty inside when Virgil pulled away.

“Anything else we can help with?” Roman asked as Virgil walked back to the couch.

“Uhm… n-no. That’s all. Thank you!” He said before sinking out back into his room as fast as possible, unknowingly leaving the others confused and sad.

>~~~<

After he sank out, Logan collapsed onto his bed desperately trying to hold back tears. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy it! Just enough for some data! Now he made a complete fool of himself and they probably won’t want to be friends with him anymore!

Suddenly, his dam broke and tears were falling freely and his breathing became quick and shallow. Now he’s having a panic attack! Just perfect!

As he cried he tried so hard to fix his breathing with Virgil’s 4-7-8 pattern. Or was it 4-8-7? Or 7-4-8?! No-no it was 4-7-8! If not, that’s what he was gonna go with.

After a few minutes, he was breathing just fine. So now the only noise he made were his quiet sobs.

>~~~<

An hour or so later, the others were still in the commons, discussing what had just happened.

“I mean, why would he just come and kiss us? There had to be more to it!” Roman exclaimed, flopping down on Virgil’s lap.

“I’m sure he has a perfectly good explanation!” Patton said, taking a bite out of a cookie. “I’m sure if we just asked him—“

“Are you insane?!” Virgil cried, standing up and knocking Roman over in the process. “We can’t just ask him! Didn’t you see how uncomfortable he was?!” He said, pulling at his hair.

“Don’t try and tell us you don’t want him to kiss you again, Emo,” Roman said, standing up. “We both know you loved it just as much as me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable!” He said sitting back down. “I just want to know why he did it,” he mumbled, crossing his arms.

“I can just go ask,” Patton offered. “I’ll be back,” he said, getting up and walking to Logan’s room before Virgil could stop him.

When he got to the top of the stairs, he swore he heard crying. “Logan?” He said, running to his door. “Logan, hon, are you okay?” He asked, knocking on his door.

Suddenly the crying stopped and Logan’s voice answered his own. “Yes, Patton. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Okay then. Can I come in?” If Logan really was okay, then he should get this conversation over with. He heard shuffling then the door swung open and Logan looked miserable. “Logan, are you sure you’re okay?” He pushed.

“Yes, I’m just a little over worked, I was about to take care of it. What do you need?” He asked, sounding irritated. By now the others have come up just to see what was wrong.

“Is there any other reason- besides science of course- that you wanted to kiss us for?” He asked hopefully.

Something flashed in Logan’s eyes that Patton couldn’t quite place before he answered. “No, it was just science,” he said. “Now, are we done here?” He asked, beginning to close the door.

“Um, no,” Roman said, putting his foot in the way and forcing the door open and walking in. “Why do you look like Virgil after a panic attack? Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He threw it off and stepped back. “I’m fine!” He cried. “Now please leave my room.”

Roman looked at the others then back to Logan. Suddenly, he got an idea. “No.”

“I’m sorry?” Logan asked, looking slightly afraid.

“I said no, Logan,” Roman said, taking the logical side’s hand. “I want to do an experiment,” he said smiling.

“Pardon?”

“I want to kiss you,” he said. “For science,” he added with a sly smile, before closing the distance on them again.

Logan so desperately wanted to pull away, but couldn’t find a good enough reason to, so he kissed back. And he loved every second of it, only breaking it to breathe. When he looked up at Roman he saw the softness in his eyes and began to cry again.

“I-I’m so sorry!” He wailed, clinging to Roman’s shirt like a lifeline.

“Why are you sorry?” Roman asked, tilting his head to make him look at him. “What’s there to be sorry for?”

“I-I- I intruded on your relationship! I-I invaded your guys’ happiness!” He cried. “I-I tried to tell myself I wasn’t worthy! B-but—!” He was cut off when Roman kissed him again.

“Starlight, do you really think you intruded on our relationship?” He asked. When he nodded, he felt his heart shatter.

“Logan, you could never intrude!” Patton cried, running over to hug him. “What made you think that?”

“Y-you guys just s-seemed so happy!”

“We are,” Virgil said, walking up putting a hand on his shoulder. “But do you know when we’re happiest?” He asked. When Logan shook his head, Virgil smiled. “We’re happiest when you’re around,” he said smiling.

Logan shook his head in disbelief. “B-but—!”

Virgil grabbed his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “Logan, stop. We love you, okay?”

That got him to stop crying. “Y-you love me?” He asked.

“Now what kind of silly question is that? Of course we do!” Patton said squeezing him harder. “In fact!” He began, looking at the others for permission. With two identical nods, he went for it. “Would you like to join our relationship?” He asked.

“Wh-what?” He asked, wiping tears from his face.

“Do you want to be our boyfriend?” Roman repeated. “It’s okay if you don’t!” He reassured quickly.

“N-no, I do,” Logan said, beginning to smile. “I… love you all too.”

Virgil let out a breath he forgot he was holding. “Okay, good! I was so worried you would think us weird or something,” he said.

They stayed in that small cuddle pile for a minute more before the silence was shattered. “What now?” Logan asked.

“Well… we could go watch a movie!” Roman suggested, pulling away.

Logan nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he mumbled.

“Movie night it is!” Patton cheered, running out of the room to collect snacks. “I’ll get the popcorn made!” He cried from downstairs. That got everyone laughing as they followed him to make sure he didn’t burn the kitchen down.

It was halfway through Lion King, Logan realized, maybe he did have emotions. And if he did, he didn’t mind.

[joelmillerthirstqz]

Hello, okay, a PSA first: Joel spends two games super effectively snapping hyoid bones so he’s DEFINITELY not going to be stupid about this or unaware of how easy it is to kill someone, and nor should you!

Don’t put pressure on someone’s larynx. You can snap that shit. Please, please read up on safe practice, talk to your partner(s), keep shears/charged phones/first aid kits nearby.

Here’s a decent resource. Consent is key, have fun, and please educate yourselves so nobody gets hurt.

---------

Joel means to pin your shoulder, heel of his hand on your collarbone when it slips, wrought by your wriggling under him and the consistent slam of his hips as he pounds into you, legs around his waist and back driving into the bed with each impact.

You cough with surprise as he strikes the bottom of your larynx, immediately springing off of you since at least half of his body weight definitely landed. You see stars and your head feels murky enough that you’re still thrusting weakly even as he withdraws.

“Shit, you alright?” he asks, warm drawl drawing you back to him, pads of his thumbs fluttering over your neck.

You take a slow breath and blink at him, his hand coming up to your face.

“You ever try that before?” you query curiously, Joel on his knees at the edge of the bed.

“A little bit, with better aim,” he admits after a pause. You scrape your fingernails through his beard on one side, considering him.

Joel can still be shy of confessing previous experiences (as if you’d care where he’d been) and the heat in his face is beyond endearing. You won’t poke, but you’re so in love with everything to do with him that you can’t help but imagining attempts in his youth. Was it before the outbreak? You can’t imagine him seeking out physical stress after, but if the way you’d dismantle the house when he’d return from a particularly frightening patrol was any indication, this was a perfect space for him to process in. He’s agile and strong, far shy of his years, and it wasn’t uncommon to pass hours at a time learning each other and testing your boundaries. Mostly, thinking about your very separate pasts makes you wish you’d met him decades ago, not to detract from how good your ardent catching-up has been.

“What if I want you to do it again?” you ask quietly.

Joel’s eyes dart all over your face like he’s trying to collect more data on the simple request. He looks thoughtful for a minute. Maybe it’s just endorphins thrumming through you, but you love this face on him. Perhaps just love his face, defined features setting deeper when he’s focused.

“Can I ask why?”

Your sweat is starting to cool and he moves to join you on the bed, hand brushing your thigh repeatedly as he asks the question.

“I trust you and it feels good to see stars,” you shrug and he chuffs a laugh. “You?”

“Want to make you come as hard as I possibly can?” he tries.

“Then put your hands back on me, Joel,” you say, satisfied.

Where you’d usually get a haughty ‘yes ma’am,’ Joel moves slowly instead, kissing you like he did when this had started the first time, downstairs, rolling you under him without resistance. He kisses your neck, grazing with his teeth, stroking your chest with open palms as he works.

“Come here,” he speaks slowly, reorienting you to straddle him, hand on your sternum.

“Afraid of your own strength?” you snip at him, derisive curl to your mouth.

“Baby doll, I’ll make you fuckin’ terrified of it if you don’t shut up and take it,” he growls and you smile in satisfaction you can’t hide, his voice rolling through you as he guides his stunningly hard length in.

You’re already sore from starting at the bottom of the stairs and had made it exceptionally challenging for him to muscle you into bed from there, hence his attempt to pin you. His cock stretches you to what feels like a limit and he sighs before running his left hand flat up your chest. Taking him in laid out like this never gets old, defined musculature and spattering of scars assuredly solid beneath you.

“Arrogant—” you get out, his hand closing on either side of your neck, pressure flooding between your ears until you taste stars. You’ve stopped being able to ride him so he takes over, taking you from beneath with just as much command as any other way he’d have you.

You break the first layer of skin with your fingernails on his forearm, gripping for purchase even as his other hand holds you perfectly fast. Joel hisses in displeasure—it’s too warm for long sleeves and he can already hear Ellie barreling past his boundaries with her questions.

“More,” you try to breathe, actually closer to mouthing it out. He can try to be cautious, but he only has so much restraint when you beg.

“Doesn’t feel like you need more,” Joel comments, watching you with dark eyes as you feel his right hand inch towards your center. His hand hovers just above your slit, thumb ready to smooth through your folds with his left hand flexing around your neck, mindful of your windpipe.

You’re pulsing over him, hips rocking near-mechanically as your head spins. You’d feel entirely untethered if his hands didn’t press into your skin with total familiarity, even in this new way. Joel could do anything to you, and the acceptance of that absolute fact clicks into place as he watches you with his entire focus.

“You gonna come for me?” he rumbles, balancing on his arm behind him to come level with your face, watching your eyes and brushing his mouth against yours. He eases up the pressure on your throat so you can answer, immediately strumming over your clit with his thumb to keep you submerged in feeling.

“Not your best effort,” you snarl and Joel’s eyes flare, flipping you harshly to your stomach and slamming back inside of you in one vicious thrust. There’s no real ego to contend with outside of bed, but he meets your playful critiques with raw demonstration like this every single time. Luckily, all you ever want is for him to prove how perfectly he can rise to your challenges, the same as you do for his.

Joel’s forearms wrap around your front, arcing your back up acutely towards him, exposing your neck so he can watch where his hand falls. Completely pinned, his thrusts almost rattle you into fragments, mouth slack and eyes rolling with the renewed, stronger pressure around your throat. You soak in the sensation of his hard chest against your back, tough calluses burrowing into the delicate skin of your throat and chest.

Joel curls over you and bites the tip of your ear harder than he needs to, making you squirm. You’re too far under to smile but he can read your placid face as utterly content, messily placing a kiss at the corner of your mouth as he plows into you.

You make quiet, suppressed noises as you start to drift, shivering to the edges of your limbs as you begin to come.

“That’s it,” Joel encourages, a smile starting to break as he tries to gather you closer. He’s cocky about this and you’re lying when you say it doesn’t spur you. Squeezing his eyes shut to feel your strained, extended pulses around his cock, he releases your neck when they begin to run together and smooth out.

You cry out without any definition to the sound, Joel holding you up against him, both your thighs slick from your efforts. It sounds a little like you’re sobbing but Joel sits back, not pulling out of you, to let you ride through it in his lap. When air bursts through your chest in normal circuits at least ten times, you turn just to be instantly captured, his mouth ravenous on yours, hips anxiously flexing below you.

You pull off of him and put your knees down on either side of his hips. “Get on your back,” you say, hearing how hoarse you sound now as you shove him onto his back.

“Dunno what you think you’re doing, still shivering like that,” Joel teases, broad hand tucking your hair behind your ear as another aftershock rolls through your core.

“Joel, shut up,” you say, sheathing him inside you and taking his throat in hand. It clearly surprises him by the way his chest expands immediately, eyes going wide.

You’re shaking still but know he’s close enough that this won’t be long. His hand flies to your wrist on instinct and he grips it like an anchor, surrendering to being ridden with his usual victorious air.

Joel doesn’t—or can’t— make a sound as he finishes deep inside of you, hips lifting you both off the bed with this desperate expression on his handsome features that you hope you remember for the rest of your life. It looks like he would be pleading if he could, taken aback by the pull of deliriously spaced pleasure coming in hot waves every few long seconds.

You lift your hand as he starts to slacken, allowing with it a soft moan that you’d never heard the likes of before. Well beyond your ability to stay upright before, you collapse onto his chest and feel a low chuckle begin in his abdomen. You tilt your head up sharply, peering at him.

“Wha—I,” Joel laughs and covers his face with one hand. You crawl up his chest to kiss him, curling into his warmth.

He keeps opening his mouth like he’s going to speak but just readjusts each time he tries. You look up into hazel eyes you never get tired of taking in, content in a mutual appreciation for shared silence. Joel winds your fingers together and rests your hands over his heart, pulse still trying to tell him he’s in danger as you tug the sheets up over you.

“Fuck, oh,” Joel purses his lips, untangling his hand to brush over your bruised neck. “Hell.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover it,” you wave off.

“Not worried about that—you ‘right?” the sincere nervousness in his tone is reaffirming. The fact that he enjoyed leaving possessive bites all over you didn’t extend to accidentally bruising you this much.

“Stop fussing,” you complain, kissing him, tugging lightly on mostly black, grey-streaked hair.

“Nope, c’mon,” he pulls back from you, scrambling out of bed. You look up at him expectantly.

“Or stay,” he assents, returning after a rapid hammering of footsteps to the kitchen with a towel full of ice. His own neck is flecked with semicircular wounds instead of pressure marks, but he shrugs it off as he passes the mirror in the hallway, knees shakier than he’d have expected.

Returning to your waiting arms and wreathing your collarbones in the towel, you both settle against the headboard and watch the early evening light creep over Jackson from his bedroom window.

[stefciastark]

Stuck Under A Building ~ Webpril Day 4

A/N: Peter begins to dig his way out with the help of Tony, who hopes like hell F.R.I.D.A.Y hasn't miscalculated anything. Otherwise, both Peter and Ned's lives may be at stake.

~Read on AO3

~Read on FFN

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The dust had already settled by the time Peter returned to consciousness. Not yet ready to open his eyes, he instead took mental inventory of each of his limbs, and he had to swallow back his panic when he couldn’t move his right leg without white hot pain licking its way up to his knee. In that moment, he made the decision to force his eyes open, hoping like hell that he wouldn’t be greeted with some sort of compound fracture or something else disgusting. Peter considered himself anything but squeamish, but he’d seen more than his fair share of gruesome injuries that he could very much do without at that very moment.

He found the offending object quickly; a large boulder the size of a washing machine – yet at least twice as heavy – sandwiched from halfway up his shin to his ankle. Mentally counting to three, he braced himself for the pain as he gave his leg another tug. He groaned through clenched teeth, clenching his eyes shut at the feeling of bone grinding on bone. Yep, definitely broken.

There was also a secondary problem he had just identified – the surrounding rocks had shifted in response to the movement of the one pinning him down. Peter watched with bated breath as a few stones the shape and size of watermelons tumbled down from the top of the pile and narrowly missed Ned, who still lay unconscious and prone on the ground beside him. His backpack lay just behind Ned, situated near what remained of the steel support pillar. If Peter remembered correctly, that meant that they were stuck in the middle-left portion of the cave. If he could get to the suit, he could get to help.

This would be the most high-stakes game of Pick-Up Sticks he’d ever played.

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Tony had received a notification about Peter’s suit, and as much as he’d later hate to admit it, he had passed it off as unimportant as it initially came through his systems. Tony was in the process of finalising the last of the data transfers to his new lab in the Avengers headquarters that had been relocated to upstate New York. Terabytes didn’t even begin to cover the quantity of files he had left to integrate into the new systems, but he had to start somewhere. 

The hard drive had now begun to transfer the new blueprints for the latest Spiderman suit upgrades Tony had started prototyping. Peter was a keen kid; he was passionate and excitable, but frankly the sheer amount of voice messages he left was bordering on a violation of privacy. As Tony scrolled through the massive folder on Peter’s latest web-formulas he’d devised, the regular ‘Peter’ blip that appeared on his radar had suddenly faded into nothing, prompting advisory from F.R.I.D.A.Y. 

According to his A.I, Peter’s whereabouts had last been defined as being circa upstate New Jersey, close to - if not within - the Sterling Hill Mining Museum. F.R.I.D.A.Y further informed Tony that that particular area sat right near the Ramapo fault line, where seismic activity had recently been detected. 

Without hesitation, Tony set each foot in front of him deliberately, finally shrouding himself in his latest nanotech development: The Mark…whatever the hell. It was fast approaching the seventies and Tony had long since lost count. 

The built-in stabilisers in the suit prevented Tony from feeling the G-Force he would otherwise be subject to as he catapulted towards northern New Jersey. He’d asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to inform him if any changes occurred regarding Peter’s whereabouts, however his radar remained silent apart from where the calculations told him Peter’s last known location was. 

Completely removed now from the dense concrete jungle, Tony reached his final destination just outside of the Mining Museum. It may have been a long shot, but there was no way in hell Tony was leaving a single stone unturned.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter had nearly managed to sling his pinkie finger around the inside of his mask that was sitting inconveniently just past the middle of his backpack. If Ned’s life hadn’t been at a perpetual state of risk from a catastrophic cave in, Peter would have simply yanked his leg free long ago and dealt with whatever consequence, but when it was a life other than his own, he found himself unable to act irresponsibly, instead finding himself performing ‘babysitter’ duties whilst pinned underneath a rock half the size of his apartment fridge. 

Simultaneously extending his left arm once more as he gently shifted his leg just a fraction from beneath the boulder, he silently cheered as he managed to get a concrete hold on his mask. If anything, if he were lucky, he would be able to contact Mr Stark and work on getting them both out of here. 

Pulling the mask over his face, he heard Karen’s calming voice as whatever systems were available initialised. He assumed he had a concussion at that point, as barely anything she said was properly registering for him, and simply went in one ear and out of the other.

“Communications are now online,” Karen hummed, and Peter sighed with relief. What he didn’t expect, however, was the almost instantaneous interception of Mr Stark’s voice through the comms. 

“I leave you alone for five minutes...what the hell happened, kid?” 

Peter grinned from within the mask. He knew he was safe. Tony Stark had come to get him, and everything would be alright. Ned would be left unscathed and before he knew it, it’d all be a distant memory. “We were on a field trip, and all the rocks were really cool, and then suddenly the ground started shaking, the cave collapsed, and now I’m stuck in here with Ned who’s unconscious, by the way, and - “ 

“Take a breather, kid. Just sit back for a minute, F.R.I.D.A.Y’s pulling up a map of the mine. We’ll get you out of there, try not to move too much, okay?” Tony’s eyes shifted over the heads-up display, taking in the various patterns of disarray with Peter and Ned laying in the epicentre. He narrowed his eyes as progressively more shapes on the close-proximity radar turned a bright shade of red. These boulders couldn’t be moved unless Peter wanted to put the lives of himself and Ned in immediate danger. It was time to change games and play Tetris, but this time lives were at stake. 

“I need you to listen to me, Peter. There’s a rock to your right. Do you see it? I need you to wedge that just under where that boulder on your leg is sitting.” 

Peter wasn’t about to question how Tony had gotten there in such a short amount of time, or how he knew about the offending boulder atop his ankle. Following Tony’s instructions, he shifted the stone next to him, and was able to use it like an ‘a la natural’ forklift to shift the stone from above him. He pulled his leg out as fast as he could in the fear that the rocks above him would crash down upon him - but this time more catastrophically. Ned still hadn’t come to, and Peter was becoming increasingly concerned for his friend’s wellbeing. “Okay Mr Stark, I’m out. But Ned, he’s still not waking up, I don’t know what - “ 

“One thing at a time. Now, I want you to -”

Peter didn’t register what was being said to him, instead taken over by the sheer sense of dread as he fully realised the proximity of the rocks sitting around him, trapping him on all sides. As if that weren’t a big enough concern, one millimetre of uncalculated movement could cause a cataclysmic cave in that - if Peter lived - he didn’t want on his conscience. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y displayed the increased pace of Peter’s heart rate, and the decreased oxygen saturation in his blood. Shit. “Peter, I need you to listen to me. You can panic when this is over, believe me, but right now you need to get out. There’s a small rock to your left that’s shaped like the Kmart version of Cap’s shield. Nudge that out of the way for me.” 

Crushing his fear down as far as he could, Peter rapidly identified the frisbee-shaped stone diagonally to his right. “B-but Mr Stark, that’s right underneath a massive pile of rocks…” 

“Think of this like…” Tony rummaged in his brain for a moment, warring with the part of him that craved a blunt and harsh approach to the situation. He knew that would only cause Peter to stress more than he already was, so he opted for the approach that was as calm and collected as he could muster despite the situation. “What’s that game you showed me last week, kid? The one with the wooden blocks?” 

“Jenga?”

“That’s the one. Sometimes stuff’s gotta fall down before you can stack it up again. Don’t worry, F.R.I.D.A.Y’s got your back.” Tony worried at his bottom lip, hoping like hell F.R.I.D.A.Y hadn’t made some critical mistake in her calculations. He was purely relying on her to get Peter out of there. From where he was standing in the sole connecting tunnel that would lead to freedom, all he could see was rocks, rocks, and more goddamn rocks. As much as he would love to tear them from where they were positioned to get to the kid - his kid - he knew that any rash mistake on his part would end with more than one life haunting him until the day he died. 

And so a game of Jenga they played, Peter pulling stones from one location and sliding them to become the new support structures for other smaller micro-towers. The space around him began to expand, and with it, Peter felt as if there were more breathable oxygen seeping in through the cracks between the stones, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining a gust of wind blustering in from where he guessed the tunnel’s entrance was. He had no idea how long they’d been reshuffling the contents of the cave, but Peter could almost stand completely upright and walk about twenty feet to his right and left. 

“Alright, now this one’s gonna be a doozy. There’s a small pocket in front of that big boulder over there. Just give it a good kick.” From what Tony could see on his monitors, the moment that large rock moved, he would be free to blast the remaining stones and drag the kids out of there, no matter how many pieces they were in. 

Peter knew this would be painful. It meant one of two things: he’d have to do the kicking with the leg his busted ankle was attached to, or he’d have to put all his weight on that limb while he did the deed with his good leg. Either way, he was prepared for it to suck. Choosing the latter and supporting himself partially on one of the larger boulders to his right, he brought his left knee to a right angle before pushing out with as much force as he could muster.

Tony first heard and then saw the shifting of the obstructions before him, the remaining fragments tumbling from the top until they sat in almost neat little piles below their larger counterparts. 

Finally overwhelmed with exhaustion, pain, and the intensity of the last (at least) hour, Peter lowered himself onto the ground beneath him, only vaguely hearing metal scraping on stone, and the vibrations in the ground as Tony completed the last of the puzzle. 

As he felt himself losing grip on awareness, he only just felt himself being gently lifted. At long last, feeling safe in the arms of the man he considered to be his father, he let himself drift off into the realms of unconsciousness.

A/N: Finally he's out! Peter and Tony will definitely be having a conversation about it on Day 6, so make sure you stick around for the conclusion to this little short story. I hope you've all enjoyed it so far xx

[musingdistraction]

Falling for Whiskey (Agent Whiskey x Reader)

Hello Mr. Pascal lovers :D. I recently watched The Mandalorian and fell for Pedro’s sexy voice and protective dad ways. I've been looking for Pedro content and discovered the fics tag by chance... It's so much fun and your stories are great, so I wanted to contribute too, cause I have so many ideas and my imagination is running wild about Pedro these days, haha! Agent Whiskey is one of my favorite characters from him, so here I go. English is not my first language so excuse the mistakes. Hope you enjoy it :)

Summary: (3k words) You're a young Statesman agent and are assigned to a mission with Whiskey and Champagne. The initial dislike between you and Whiskey will turn into something very different later, since you are going to fall hard for each other. He’s tough on the surface but a real cinnamon roll deep down, and you are his weakness.

Warnings: +18 content, references to violence, SMUT.

After a short but impressive record of good results since you became a Stateswoman, your superiors had assigned you to a new mission. You needed to steal some key data from a drug gang which was suspected to have connections with arm traffickers and a terrorist group. Agents Whiskey and Champagne would be teaming up with you for the operation. You were not happy with the arrangement since the take-off meeting had been tense, and these guys didn't seem to be team workers at all. The agents had been distracted and mostly contradicting your ideas, mainly that damn Whiskey. You were even on the brink of starting an argument once or twice. The situation was not ideal and you couldn't wait to wrap up the mission, and hopefully getting a new assignment with new partners.

Your boss had provided the information about the target, an accountant of the mafia. The idea was to set up a distraction and steal some key data from his laptop without him noticing, so that would give you time to collect further proof of their activities before they could react. You followed the guy around for a couple of weeks, studying his daily patterns, his connections and meetings. Working with Champagne was more or less ok, but Whiskey was making things difficult. He was getting on your nerves, being surly and sometimes plainly puzzling. You were exasperated at his attitude, wondering what was the deal with the lone ranger. 

Finally the day came when you had planned to take action. You were supposed to act while the accountant was waiting for his boss in a restaurant, surrounded by some of the mafia thugs. It was not going to be easy. Whiskey and Champagne would keep them distracted. Then you would swap the laptop and leave a fake one. You would copy the data and later you would return the original laptop without them noticing. Things went wrong, however. All thanks to agent Whiskey and his seeming excess of testosterone. Instead of fulfilling his task, apparently he couldn't resist the first opportunity to attack the thugs and caused a ruckus, while the accountant fled the scene. You were frustrated, "This guy can't control himself, how are we going to succeed here?". But mostly you were bewildered since you had found that idiot to be quite hot during the fight. He was definitely fit and holding his whip in a skillful, sexy way..., you hated to be attracted to that type of guy.

It had been an epic fail that called for a group meeting where you all were scolded. Later that night you talked privately to your superior about the mission status, since you were not happy with the course of events. "Don't be too hard on Whiskey, the guy lost his pregnant girlfriend in a shooting not so long ago, with drug dealers involved. He hates them". "Then why did you assigned him to this mission?" you complained. "We want to give him a chance, he's a great asset to us and we need to know if he can overcome his trauma or we can't use him anymore". "Great" you thought, "so they are throwing us at this mess and expecting we handle this guy's issues too". You were not happy at all but also felt guilty for judging Whiskey so quickly while knowing nothing about him. You tried to imagine the pain of losing your girlfriend and a baby on the way...surely he had suffered a lot. No wonder he was easily provoked by the thugs earlier.

Next morning the team gathered in the headquarters in order to study the situation and decide the next step. You had to find another way to get the information you needed. At the beginning you were giving Whiskey the death stare and he didn't seem to know what to do or where to hide. But the truth is, after finding out what had happened to him, you saw Whiskey in a new light and couldn't be too mean. You wanted to make things work. However agent Champagne wasn't feeling so generous. At some point he casually dropped that you had suggested next time you and Champagne would do the fieldwork, while Whiskey would support from the office so he couldn’t mess up again. It was easy to tell that Champagne was joking from his mischievous smile, but Whiskey believed everything and started complaining, angry. You were amused and followed Champagne's ruse for a bit. Grumpy Whiskey was sort of cute and brought to your face a wide smile you couldn't hide. "Do you really think I would say that? We are a team. We have to do this together." He seemed pacified by your words and stopped complaining. Then, after some discussion on the operation details, you left the room a bit embarrassed since that smile might have been unintentionally too warm. Whiskey stayed there, looking thoughtful. And Champagne was still joking and laughing, maybe because he already caught that there was something going on between you and Whiskey? You were a bit upset though. You told yourself that the rough cowboy didn't care about the team or you, and you shouldn't let your guard down because of his sad story, that you needed to keep things professional...Only that was not really how you felt about him anymore.

Next day Whiskey dropped by your office and left you a document folder. He had been gathering intel about the drug mafia. The truth is he had been absent-minded and struggling since the beginning of the mission because he wasn’t sure about working for Statesman anymore…he was still quite depressed since his beloved girlfriend and their baby were taken from him. Then he had screwed up and that was a bit of a wake-up call, he didn’t want things to go that way. He actually liked his job and believed in the Statesman agency values. And there was a general change of mood in the team, with you suddenly smiling at him and all that, so he thought he should do something to contribute. You thanked him and devoted the afternoon to study the documents and review your action strategy. The guys you were facing were dangerous. You knew that the team needed to be solid in order to succeed, and that Whiskey needed to be fully on board. The guy was difficult to control and didn't like team work. You thought you knew what would take to make him change his attitude but it was difficult to take that step. After some internal struggle, you finally gathered enough courage to call him and ask for help. You asked him to elaborate on the documents he brought you and check the action plan together. Asking for help indeed seemed to operate some magic. His voice on the phone was soft when he said he was on his way to your office. He arrived quite fast. Then you sat together for several hours checking everything and discussing the details. It was a productive meeting. He actually helped and gave you good advice, and you gladly took it. His recommendations were quite clever. He seemed to be happy that you were noticeably impressed so he kept offering ideas, and you thought that was very cute of him. That night you stayed together until very late in the office, which you didn't mind since you were charmed by him. His masculine and honeyed voice lulled you and you found yourself once or twice checking his messy brown hair or his strong biceps showing through his shirt. When he casually touched your arm a couple of times to draw your attention, you felt the heat through your body. You wondered if he was aware of the effect his touch had in you. He wasn't, but he didn't miss how comfortable you were in his company or how you looked at him...and he definitely wanted more of it.

You worked on the plan together for a couple of weeks more, and things were looking good. The "team bonding" was going really well. So many hours spent with Whiskey had also an effect in you. You liked him more and more every day. He seemed to enjoy your newfound closeness and looked for you round the clock. He was very supportive and always helping. You felt he was being protective of you. One night you fell asleep during a stakeout, while you were spying on one of your suspects from a nearby apartment. You woke up later in one of the bedrooms, and Champagne casually said that Whiskey had carried you there, so you could get some rest. To know that he had taken such liberties with you and carried you in his arms…that made your heart race. The truth is Whiskey had awakened your female instincts in a way you never had felt before. He might seem tough at first sight but he had a soft side that just started showing, and you knew about his emotional scars. You were weak for him, maybe that strong but damaged guy in need for affection was your type after all? You wanted to take care of him, and that feeling intensified every time he was doing something nice for you. You felt the urge of giving him some love and taking care of him, and that included taking care of his needs as a man too...that very idea was enough to make your body temperature rise. You found him very manly, sexy, and suspected he was an expert and passionate lover. That made you fantasize about being with him and sometimes you were tempted to flirt, since he seemed to like you too. The circumstances were not the best for dating though, so you told yourself that you wouldn't act on your burgeoning feelings. Your determination proved to be weak though, since you couldn’t stay away from him. As for Whiskey, he found you very pretty and sweet when you didn’t had your guard up. He also thought of keeping the distance while working together, in order to not mess things up. However, what he wanted was to be around and protect you, and see your beautiful smile often.

A few days later, finally it was time to strike again and steal the files you were after. You had planned to get it from the office of one of the gang managers. Since the operation was taking place at a social club from the mafia, that gave you a perfect excuse to put on a sexy, revealing dress. You wanted Whiskey to look at you of course. When you arrived to the meeting point, he was there waiting with Champagne. He carelessly said that the group was not supposed to attract attention, while giving you a quick look from head to toe that gave you butterflies in the stomach. You were a bit embarrassed and blushing while reminding him that you were heading to a posh club so the dress was ok but the cowboy hat maybe not. Then you rushed to the car. When arriving at the club, your group stopped at the bar to check who was there, and Champagne ordered some drinks. You didn't know but apart from your sexy figure, Whiskey had noticed your red cheeks before. You were being too cute and looking too pretty for him to resist. The desire to touch you and kiss you was stronger than him. Suddenly he wanted to steal you and bring you far away, so he could keep you safe. Too bad he couldn't do anything in the middle of the operation... You were distracted watching your target -the club manager- leave towards the garden. Then, suddenly felt Whiskey's hand on your waist while he called your name and made you turn and look at him. It was for a second that he touched you, but it was firm, intimate, the kind of touch men use to sound out how welcome they are in your personal space, a warning that they are going to touch you more if you allow them. Your heart was pounding when you faced him. He approached your ear and said "Be careful, princess" in a low voice, and then winked. "We're going outside, see you later", said Champagne and they left you on the spot, distracted.

The agents headed to the garden, following the club manager. Finally alone, you were able to breathe again and quickly focused on your part of the job. You had to steal the content of the manager's computer in his office. This time everything went well and your team could finish and run from the place with no one noticing, bringing some valuable info that would make your boss happy. The operation was a success and the team gathered for some drinks at the bar later that night. Pretty soon, Champagne had started flirting and left with a girl. Your heart fluttered when it suddenly downed on you, that you were alone with Whiskey. But you already had a couple of beers so none of you were so timid anymore. He blocked a guy that tried to flirt with you, totally looking like a jealous boyfriend. It was pretty obvious what was going on there. You talked about the mission for a while and complimented each other's job. Then he smiled and looked at your dress, his eyes shining. "I see you're wearing a dress again tonight, you look very pretty in it ". "Should I wear it more often, then?" you said in a flirty tone... "But only when I'm around so I can protect you from the unwanted attention". Things were heating between both of you and your cheeks were burning. Then he smiled, "Hey, I love this song, come here", he pulled and made you stand up by him. By the time you started complaining about the old-fashioned tune, he already had grabbed you by the waist and was dancing slowly. You were a bit surprised by the move, but quickly shut up and surrendered to the sway and his physical proximity, allowing him to take the lead while looking at him in the eyes. “You like it, don't you?... I can think of other things that you will like, miss". Still smiling, he leaned in for a kiss. He was soft and slow, while holding you tight. Soon the kiss turned more passionate and you needed to separate in order to catch your breath. He looked at you intently and said "Let's go to my place, baby. It's too loud here and I want to be alone with you". For a second you tried to weigh the possible cons of that idea, but you liked him too much to stop there, so you agreed. In the taxi, his hand was resting on your thigh and you felt the burning heat between your legs. You kissed throughout the cab ride. He was running his fingers through your hair and while catching breath between kisses he promised "I'm going to treat you very well, princess". "You better do", that's all you managed to respond before he took your lips again. When you arrived to his apartment, the door closing after you sounded like heaven. Curious about his personal stuff, you explored a bit the living room, apparently to Whiskey's amusement. He approached smiling and grabbed you by the waist, "Do you like this cowboy's humble place, baby? Well, get ready to see the bed, because I'm going to ride you there". Then he started kissing you and lifted you in his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and got lost in his kiss while he carried you to the bedroom. Your fingers got entangled in his hair while he was unbuttoning your dress and kissing every centimeter of your naked skin. The way he touched you and looked at you was a big turn-on, so decisive, so confident and masculine. On the bed already, his hands all over your body, later his head between your legs made you lose your head. He seemed to lose it too when you slipped your hand in his underwear and started playing with his cock, which was ready for action. You noticed his excitement and kept teasing him, playing bad girl. That made him felt the urge to give you what you deserved. "What do you think you're doing, come here", he grabbed you and placed you underneath him, kissing you again, while pressing his hips towards yours. He still had his boxers on but you could feel he was so hard against your entrance. He played around it for a while and you showed your desire, by grabbing his butt and pushing him against you. Then he teased you, introducing the tip of his finger in you. "Oh baby you are so wet, you have no idea how much I like it.” He kept playing with his finger while kissing your neck and then going down to taste your nipples. Excited, you arched your back and made him go up in order to kiss him again, your hands running through his hair, next towards his back. “I want you so much”, you wanted him to know how much you desired him. He seemed pleased to see how excited you were. He kissed your neck and went up to bite your ear, suddenly feeling the need to assert how you belonged to him.  “You know your pussy is mine, don’t you? You are mine now". Then he stood up and took off his underwear. You knew what was coming next, which made you even more excited. He leaned down on you and you hugged and kissed, this time completely naked, with no obstacles for the imminent intercourse. After some exquisitely desperate waiting and begging him to take you, he also couldn't wait anymore. He was on top of you, moving his hips so his cock would slide and position itself against your entrance. You were so wet and he was so hard that the tip entered you with no need for further guidance. Next he penetrated you slowly, taking his time, savoring your moans and the look in your face. He lied on you, holding you in his arms, one hand on your back, the other sustaining your head. He was on top of you, holding you tight and close to him, then started thrusting inside you with passion. Feeling his weight and the grip of his strong arms increased the delicious sensation of being helpless and possessed at his pleasure, his hips moving over you and the friction on your clit bringing you to unknown enjoyment heights. He certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. As you vibrated with pleasure under him, he felt more excited and wanted to be even more inside you, so he silenced your screams with a kiss, his tongue deep in your mouth. Then you completely surrendered to the feeling of being his, let go of all resistance and reached your climax. You kept making love for a while since your thirst for each other was not satisfied yet and he wanted to play with you more. When he came later, you felt so full of him and happy. Both of you were covered in sweat and exhausted. His  blissful smile filled your heart with joy. He caressed your hair and showered you with sweet kisses. But his adoring brown eyes fixed on yours was what made you feel weak and realize that you had a serious problem going on there. You were falling in love.

[caraway-ship]

There is no honor to be found here.

// Playing recording… //

The colony of Ors was never meant to be permanent. We were never meant to last more than a few years, and then get replaced by the actual settlers. The palladium and lead deposits detected on Aurum-3 had left the higher ups promised profits, riches found once in a lifetime. They scraped together a ragtag colony kit, just a few pressurized habs and barebones life support, not even an atmosphere processor to our name.

They outfitted it with whomever they could get on the shortest notice, and well, starting out as an exocartographer is difficult. You take what you can get. I wasn’t set off by the three days given to prepare to ship out, at least not enough to not be allured by the handsome paycheck they offered, cash upfront in return for shipping out before their survey data was released publicly and one of their enemies saw the treasure waiting. I wasn’t expecting to do much, maybe a few survey missions, mostly just sitting around until the actual colony fleet arrived. Well. That’s what I expected at least.

When the survey team first saw the outer edge of the phenomenon, they thought it was just another weird feat of geology. With the millions of worlds out there, there were plenty to go around. This one was unlike what I’d ever seen before, huge geometric spires shooting at discordant angles from the ground. The techs with their worldshell ultrasound imagers said the deposits were centered some sixty kilometers in from the slight curve that was the edge of the phenomenon, and I was in the first survey team they sent in to investigate.

We were supposed to find a good spot for mining, and I was to map the area. What we thought at the time were ravines and canyons, hard-edged and black as basalt, seemed to close in around us as we approached the center. Our geologist, Harrison, had sampled it: A Lead-graphite alloy, seemingly, almost uniform throughout the outer edges of the phenomenon. They had surmised that this may have been a meteorite at one point, crashing down, the fires of atmospheric drag melting it until it melted and filled its crater, creating a perfectly flat, almost perfectly round disk.

And that’s the other thing that spoke to me as odd - It was nearly perfectly flat. Not flat like the surface of a planet, fitting in with the curvature of the planet, but flat as a plane. It gave the eerie feeling of a slight downwards slope towards the center, sickeningly subtle.

I did my best to track our progress, using GPS and some satellite imaging to create a map of our path. Despite each corridor feeling the same as they last, there was no discernable pattern to our movement towards the center. Connection to our main settlement was out, the company had skimped on comsats and our only one went on the fritz a week before we had left on the survey mission. Typical. Normally, we would also have been connected directly to Ors Command, but the mass of black spikes lying between us and them ensured that didn’t happen.

At around forty kilometers towards the center, our driver stopped. The walls, which had now noticeably started to creep in closer, had gotten too close to safely pilot the rover through. We conversed briefly, and decided to split up. The first group, including me, Harrison, and a marine named Clint, would go on ahead, taking one of the rover’s tent habs and light pressure suits to try and make it to the center. Our pilot, engineer, and researcher would stay back to try and find another way through for the rover. We packed our bags, taking surveying equipment, radio beacons with centuries-lasting RTG batteries to mark our path and meals enough for three weeks. It would only take a day or two to reach the center, but erring on the side of caution never hurt anyone.

The next morning, as we set out, the sheer scale and immensity of the phenomena we found ourselves surrounded by set in. Spires of dull black metal, thirty meters tall now, seemed to be set to cascade down around us. I was on edge at all times, looking out for signs of the first to start to fall.

Progress that day was relatively slow, compared to the rover. We made about 10 km that day, having to rig beacons between and to the sides of spikes in order to set them upright. They wouldn’t dig into the leaden floors. I had remarked to Harrison, them being one of the people I worked the most closely with, that I was reminded of a demonstration I was shown as a schoolchild growing up on Shisurna station, a collection of ferromagnetic nanoparticles suspended in an oil, making hard spikes as a magnet moved under it. I shuddered, imagining the spikes here flowing and crashing back into the plane beneath us, with us between them.

That night, as we set camp in the now 3 meter wide corridor, Harrison called me over to show me something. While we had been walking, they had noticed a sheen over a patch of one of the spikes, and had managed to scrape off a sample. “It’s gold,” They said. “Bet my life on it.”

The next day, we began to see more and more of that sheen, then gilded patches like discolorations in birch bark. We were fascinated, and Harrison puzzled over what may have caused it. It couldn’t have been part of the original meteorite, unless it was solely in one point. Otherwise, they said, we would have found similar patches all throughout the phenomenon. They were still unsure of what may have caused the spikes themselves, but were sure there was some explanation, if their bouncing ideas off of me was any sign.

The spikes surrounding us grew as we approached, reaching now thirty meters or more into the grey sky. We were having to pick our way through them, sometimes climbing up one then sliding back down others as the paths grew too narrow to traverse. They also grew in girth, some growing to as much as ten meters at the base. We were dwarfed in comparison, and my combined awe and horror at their sheer size peaked as our contact with the rover was lost.

The patches of gold continued to grow in size and intensity along with the spires themselves, sometimes leaving streaks 5 meters long in the cold black metal. My best efforts to find some sort of pattern in the layout of the monotonous cacophony surrounding us failed, and I struggled to plot a path as we nearly altogether stopped following the channels through the leaden ground. Then, it all stopped.

The ground before us opened up, spikes suddenly stopping before a circular clearing, about 1 kilometer in diameter. Perfectly flat ground lay ahead, streaks of gold flaring out in all directions as if they were caught fleeing something. The center was almost all coated in gold, flecks and streaks of black lead abruptly breaking through. In the very center, jaggedly curved arches about 15 meters tall stood in a circle. The sheen was impossible to ignore, and despite the ashen atmosphere, rays broke through to glare off the arches. They stood menacingly, their shadows cast fifty meters to a side. We spent some time setting up camp a bit out from the arches, then took more time investigating them.

When Harrison and I reconvened, they were almost imperceptibly shaking. After discussing with them their findings, we had come to the same conclusion: There was no denying the evidence, no natural causes could have crafted this phenomenon. The arches height, perfectly dividable by pi, and their purpose: A sundial, left no room for nature. But why? If they had crafted this, surely they would have known the barren wastes surrounding it, would have recognized the futileness of placing something important here, where it would be nigh-impossible to reach.

Our discussion was halted almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of pressure release, then vomiting. During our discussion, we had neglected to pay any mind to Clint, who had been investigating all the while. He had wandered into the center of the arches, and was peering at a circular groove I had noticed while walking through. There he now sat, helmet off, hands on knees, vomiting. The vomit was tinged red, I saw, as Harrison and I rushed towards him. As we approached, I realized what I had mistaken for a groove was, in fact, incredibly small text, engraved in the golden floor. In common script, in my native language, Uraian, a thousand times over in a thousand tongues, a singular phrase.

“THERE IS NO HONOR TO BE FOUND HERE”

Harrison knelt beside Clint, now collapsed in the center of the circle, blood dripping from his lips. I noticed a pale red discoloration on his cheek, then another, then ten more. I then involuntarily stepped back in revulsion, as his abnormally pale face became coated in a hundred welts, seeming to bubble and ripple as they grew and spread. His face contorted in pain, and he coughed, spattering crimson across the smooth gold. Then he didn’t move.

Harrison turned to look at me, and I saw the same welts begin to bubble under their skin through their faceplate. They must have seen my expression, or maybe just felt the pain, as they began to scrabble at their faceplate.

My mind, despite my horror, couldn’t help but posit a question, one that may just save my life. Why them? Why hadn’t I been infected? I staggered back again in horror, then another step, then I turned and sprinted as fast as my pressure suit would allow on the slick metal ground. I felt it first on my legs. A dull burning, slowly growing in intensity as it spread up my limbs and reached my chest. I could no longer feel anything but the burning, and I collapsed behind the arch’s pillar as I began to feel it creep onto my palms and face. Immediately, the intensity died down. It’s still there. I can feel it. Creeping, slowly, corrupting and twisting of it’s own volition, taking and turning and burning… I was lucky enough to have the time to take this down. I don’t know how long I’ll last. I was lucky enough that the survey cameras have a microphone, now that my datapad seems to not be working. There’s no promise that this will make it out, but let it serve only as a warning. The riches aren’t worth the cost. This place is cursed, it’s promises are false, a lure. Hnn. I can feel it again, the burning. I can’t feel my legs anymore. Fuck.

// End recording. //

Recovered from Aurum-3 by remotely piloted drone.

The bodies of colonists recovered from the phenomenon seemed to have been symptoms of severe ultraviolet burns, as well as last-stage cancer in multiple spots on their cadaver.

Cause of death ruled as multiple organ failure.