#The shot of her staring at this huge chunk of metal over her gun for a second before she looks up and realizes ‘oh shit i should leave’

[one-little-nerd-stayed-home]

*Something Crashes to the Ground behind Shepard*

*Shepard whips around with her pistol out as though shooting the 4500 pound chunk of metal is going to prevent her from being crushed to a fine paste should a similar peice of metal follow this first one.*

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

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

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

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

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

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

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

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

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

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

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

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

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

[gumnut-logic]

The Cane (Part 4)

@flyboytracy​​​ asked:

Steampunk AU: five uses for a cane and one time Scott used it for its intended purpose 😘

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Aaargh, those migraines messed with my muse on this one. Had to fight it the entire way and the cane reference is tiny. Hope you enjoy it anyway ::hugs to all::

Many thanks to @janetm74​​​ @tsarinatorment​​​ and @scribbles97​​​ for all their help and amazing support of my crazy. And to @flyboytracy​​​ for asking in the first place.

This be Steampunk AU with a mix of John snark, a little bit of wee!Tracys in a little bit of peril, some selfless Scott, and a reason you don’t want to mess with Five or her pilot.

-o-o-o-

4.

“This is very inconvenient.”

Scott stared at his brother in the dim light. “Is that an attempt at impersonating Lady Penelope?”

John stared back, dust drifting haphazardly off his hard helmet and goggles. “As you’ve said many times yourself, there is no use in panicking.”

He had to give his brother that. A sigh and he assessed their situation yet again, shining his torch about the space they found themselves in.

They were in a basement. It was likely that they were lucky, as all indications were that if they had been in any other part of the building, they would not be having this conversation or any other any time in the future. The basement had a wall of solid bedrock on one side, the building having been constructed with that in mind with half the plumbing bolted into the rock. Unfortunately, the rest of the structure had been built on sand, which promptly liquified when the earthquake hit.

Speaking of earthquake. “How long do you think before the next aftershock?”

John pulled out his notebook, took a note of the time on the watch he had strapped to his wrist, and scribbled down some math. “They are very unpredictable, but I’m hoping this last big one will give us some time. Or at least, Virgil some time to dig us out.”

Scott fiddled with his transmitter unit. There was no response on any frequency he attempted. Either the equipment was broken or something was stopping the signal from reaching his brothers. John had already pulled his apart and attempted a signal boost with no success.

They were both covered in dust, but fortunately uninjured.

But, for the moment, they were stuck.

Scott was not very good at sitting still.

“We may as well rest so we can be ready when needed.”

Scott grunted.

His brother ignored him and wiped off a large chunk of masonry with one leather-gloved hand and sat down. “You know Virgil will find us.”

Another grunt.

“Sit down, Scott. You can afford to take a minute to rest.”

He let out a breath and bit his lip, but with a sigh, he did as his brother asked.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of dust and rock settling.

“Why did you come back in?” John’s voice was crisp, clear and calm.

“You were in here.” Obviously.

“But now both of us are trapped, whereas if you had run like you should have, you could be assisting Virgil to dig me out.”

Scott’s lips thinned. What had been his line of thinking? Had there been a line of thinking? To be honest, all he could recall was the thought that John was under a building that was about to collapse and he needed saving.

His voice was a little rough. “Virgil will get us out.”

“Hmm.” John was not looking at him.

“What did you expect me to do? Leave you here to die?”

Aquamarine turned calmly to catch his eyes. “Better than both of us.”

“We’re not dead.”

“Pure chance.”

John was always ever so direct.

“But important nonetheless.”

John sighed. “Reminds me of the well.”

Scott eyed him. “Really? You’re going to bring that up again?”

“Eternally, my dear brother.” John’s smirk was exceedingly annoying. “Besides, it passes the time.”

“I would rather spend time finding a way out of here.” Scott shot to his feet and began pacing around the space they were stuck in.

“If you disturb something that brings the rest of the building down on us, I’m haunting you until the end of time.”

Scott slumped a little. His brother was right. Messing with the fragile pile was just asking for trouble. They were lucky to have room to breathe, much less walk around.

“This is the reason why you ended up in the well, Scott. You haven’t changed in twenty odd years.”

Scott glared at him. His little brother had been six at the time, Scott only ten. The two of them had gone beyond the borders of the Tracy farm in Kansas and into land they shouldn’t have. They were exploring. John, as always, was a little more cautious, but Scott was ever running ahead.

It was rather ironic that it was John who fell in the well.

It wasn’t long dug, but the planks covering it were flimsy and the winds from the previous day had obscured them. John had gone through them as if the planet had eaten him.

“John!”

Scott found his little brother clutching his leg at the bottom of the hole.

It wasn’t a very deep well, but it was deep enough to put his brother out of the reach of a ten-year-old.

“Scotty, my leg hurts.”

“I’ll get you out.” He looked around for something to help John.

Perhaps he knew in some part of his mind that this could be the wrong decision. He had no rope and no real way to reach his little brother. He should get help.

But he couldn’t leave Johnny here on his own.

The thought was terrifying from both of their perspectives.

Perhaps he would have thought it a little less terrifying if he realised what could happen if he didn’t fetch help. Because once he found a long enough stick, he reached over the edge and while doing his best to add to the length John couldn’t quite reach, he fell in the hole on top of his brother.

There were groans and tears after that.

Scott didn’t hurt himself. John had been heard to comment on multiple occasions thereafter that it was because he landed on a cushion he called brother.

Scott countered that by saying he was lucky he hadn’t been impaled by a bony limb of said scrawny brother.

In any case, they huddled together for warmth for thirty-six freezing hours until someone finally found them.

By then, both brothers were dehydrated and starving.

The lecture from their father was almost as long as their time in the well.

Their mother, pregnant with Gordon at the time, took ill with the fright and there was some seriously scary time until the little fish was born a month later…a touch early.

Virgil wouldn’t let either of his brothers out of his sight for a good year after the incident. The nine-year-old obviously terrified they would disappear again.

It became legendary in the Tracy household for good or bad.

“So, you’re saying, I should have gone for help?”

Something clunked in the pile of rubble.

John arched an eyebrow. “As I said, you haven’t learnt. Yes, Scott, you should not have dashed back into the collapsing building. When Virgil finds out, he’s going to scalp you.”

“I’m sorry that my first instinct is to protect my brothers.”

John rolled his eyes, both original and artificial. “Your first instinct should be to protect yourself so you can protect your brothers.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Scott shifted his weight onto one foot, cocking his hip. “Fine. Then explain Bermuda.”

“That was different. That was saving lives.”

“You rammed a twenty-eight gunned frigate with Five!”

“It was firing on a sinking civilian target full of over two hundred passengers, including my four brothers. Grandma was not aboard. It was a fair decision.”

Scott had to admit it had been spectacular, the huge, blue-grey, manta-ray-shaped Five had reared out of the ocean and sliced the pirate vessel in half.

International Rescue had fished the survivors out of the water and there had been minimal casualties, considering.

Five had taken damage, but her cahelium superstructure was designed to withstand something as simple as a mostly wooden hull. Some gentle care from Virgil, an assessment from Hiram, and she was declared fit and well.

They had disappeared for a while after that as the rumours ran riot. Lady Penelope managed to smooth any ruffled feathers at government level.

Scott had both commended and roasted John alive.

“You could have been killed.”

“So could have you, and Virgil and Gordon and little Allie. Was I supposed to sit back and watch?”

Another clunk from somewhere in the rubble.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps, you know how I feel.”

“Of course, I know how you feel. We all do.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Scott-“

But John was interrupted by another clank, this time clearly from one of the pipes against the wall.

“Virgil?” They both said it at once and hurried over to the rock face.

The clunk repeated itself and then started on a very familiar dot dot dot…

S C O T T

He reached behind and pulled his folded cane out of its sleeve on his back. Its metal tip shone dull brass in the yellow light.

He only had to tap one letter. Dot dot dot dash.

V.

Three letters came back in a hurried jumble of excited hammering. F A B.

Then…S T A T U S?

J  A N D  S   W E L L  A N D  M O B I L E.

S T A N D  B A C K ?

F A B.

Assuming Virgil was referring to the rock wall as the point of origin, the two brothers stepped as far back from it as they could.

Moments later a rumble and hiss of gears, the crash of breaking masonry and daylight suddenly shot through part of the rubble. This was quickly followed by a massive but familiar brass claw reaching in and grabbing a large chunk of rock, disappearing with it. A crunch of gravel, shove of rock…a shout. “Scott, are you in here? John?” Their goggled and fully armour-suited brother pushed the rest of the way through the pile of broken building, both claws fully extended.

“Over here, Virgil.”

Their brother’s head turned in their direction and metal shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Something shifted in the rubble pile and Virgil reacted, his right claw slamming into the chunk of masonry threatening to fall. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Scott didn’t need to be told twice as the remains of the building creaked around them in warning. Grabbing John’s arm, he hustled his brother out through the gap past Virgil.

The engineer’s eyes on the both of them.

No doubt there would be a medical examination in their near future.

Shoving John gently ahead of him, Scott turned to keep an eye on Virgil.

His metal clad brother stepped back carefully, letting rock fall in his wake.

Then, as if the final domino had been tipped, the entire pile began collapsing in on itself.

Scott took a step towards Virgil only to have his arm yanked on from behind.

“Damnit, Scott protect yourself!” John dragged him through the remains of the rubble as a cloud of dust roared behind them.

“Virgil!” He dug his heels in, fighting John’s hold.

“He’s wearing his armour, Scott. You are not! Move!”

It went against everything. He had to protect his brothers first. But John was right. Neither of them was wearing enough protection. Virgil was.

He had to trust.

Trust that Virgil knew what he was doing.

When put in those terms the answer was simple. Of course, he trusted Virgil.

Perhaps it was fate he had issues with.

John dragged him clear of the building and the cloud of dust. Two, nestled on her landing struts, was a wonderful sight.

And then Gordon was grabbing at him. Alan was yelling his name and there were dusty hugs and clunking helmets.

But still the cloud…

“Virgil?”

As if summoned, his brother strode out of the haze, cogs whirring and pneumatic systems hissing, metal glinting in the sun. His goggled eyes searching until they latched onto his brothers.

Thank god.

A matter of strides and he enveloped his engineer brother in a hug, metal suit and all. “Thanks, Virg.”

His brother exhaled in a huff. “What on Earth were you thinking?” And so began the rant about worrying about a brother encased in metal when a building is falling when he wasn’t and could have been killed with a single rock. You idiot.

It went on for some time.

John smirked at him for the entire tirade.

-o-o-o-

Next

[witharsenicsauce]

Two Hunters, Both Alike in Sympathy (SFTD/Chosen Stories Crossover)

(I know this is a couple days late, but happy belated anniversary to @grace-kohai and her wonderful story! Inspired by a year of happenings over at the SFTD Discord, thank you for giving my Gur-Rai an even bigger family!)

Content Warning: This story has mentions of relationship/parental abuse

Mordenna heard her footsteps before he saw her, and as the cloak melted away to reveal Kon-Mai Mordenna, he knew she had wanted him to find her.

He stepped away from his workbench and turned, smiling warmly until he saw her face: lined with worry. “Something troubling you, sister of mine?”

Kon-Mai nodded and stepped closer. “Mordenna…” She hesitated saying his name “-I’m sorry, it feels strange to use that to refer to someone else.”

“It’s a good name, I’m glad to share it with you.” He chuckled. “But I don’t think you’re here to discuss that.”

“No, I am here to discuss my brother...our brother. Gur-Rai.”

“Oh yeah?” Mordenna raised a brow, intrigued. “What about him?”

“You two have been spending a lot of time together.” She said, leaning on the bench. “Do you think he trusts you, Mordenna?”

Mordenna blinked. “I hope I haven’t given him any reason not to.” He said. Truthfully, he had been spending more time with Gur-Rai than the others, but that was only because the younger Hunter always seemed to seek him out, especially in the workshop. And Mordenna had to admit, Gur-Rai was a nice workshop buddy, and he wasn’t going to say no to a (particularly skilled) extra set of hands. True, Gur-Rai was also a bit more…intense than Mordenna was, but in him was a kindness that the Elders seemed not to have been able to stamp out. Mordenna found solace in that.

“I assume you have heard tell of his newest lover.” She curled her lip on the last word. “The Rookie, Emil.”

Mordenna thought for a moment. “...I haven’t been upstairs in a minute.”

“He was the one throwing a tantrum in the halls two days ago, because nobody could fix his Gewehr 98/40.”

“Oh. Oh.” Mordenna hissed. “That guy. Served him right for bringing a bolt-action to a plasma fight.” He then thought for a moment. “...Gur-Rai’s dating him?”

“Gur-Rai managed to fix the gun.” Kon-Mai elaborated. “And I suppose Emil whispered some sweet nothings into my brother’s ear that made him fall head over heels, like he does.”

“Is that why you look upset?” Mordenna asked.

“It’s why I am here to ask for help.” Kon-Mai replied. “I believe Emil is a liability to those of us on this ship, but more importantly I fear very much that he will lash out at my brother. That he’ll do something to hurt him.”

“So what do you need from me?” Mordenna leaned forward, both hands on the bench. “Because I’m not murdering someone over a tantrum. Trust me if I did, my blood trail would be thicker and stop much sooner.”

“I do not need him dead. Yet.” Kon-Mai hissed. “If it did come to that, I would not be calling on you. What I need help with is convincing my brother to let this rat of a man go before this relationship spirals into a sinkhole.”

Mordenna nodded. “And…why won’t he listen to you? He’s my brother too, but you’ve been around him longer than me.”

“That is why. I have developed a reputation for worrying about my brothers…” She brushed a strand of white hair behind her tiny ear. “...Perhaps to an excessive degree, I admit. If I confront him with this myself, I fear he will assume I’m being paranoid and disregard me, or worse: dig his heels in further.”

“And you actually think this guy is bad news?” Mordenna asked. “I’m not doubting your judgement, but if I’m stepping in, I need more proof than just ‘your sister thinks the guy is a prick.’”

“I would not trust him on a mission with any of our fellows.” Kon-Mai said. “He is volatile, he is argumentative and throws insults around like rice at a wedding. I would go so far as to say it seems like he is intentionally causing sabotage.”

Mordenna bit his lip. “Hearty claims, Kon-Mai.”

“I know they are. I have been staking him out myself but only recently, in case he truly does pose a threat. But in the meantime…” She clasped her hands. “I just want to be assured my brother is safe.”

“Well how about this, I’ll check up on Gur-Rai. If it seems like he needs help, I have ways of making sure nobody messes with him.” He shuffled forward. “But I can’t promise anything.”

“Just…as long as you try.” Kon-Mai bowed to him. “Thank you, Mordenna. I owe you so much.”

“You just owe me one thing.” He opened his arms. “Come on. Being siblings means you gotta pay your dues.”

Kon-Mai rolled her eyes and embraced him, giving him a squeeze almost as strong as Jax would.

.

.

Mordenna was originally going to find Gur-Rai when he was done with his project, but he didn’t need to. Behind him, the door slid open, and as he turned around, he saw Gur-Rai shamble inside, that stupid German rifle in his arms and eyes cast to the floor.

Mordenna’s heart dropped and his brows went up. “Hey, little brother.” He said, trying to sound casual so as not to scare him, but Gur-Rai still startled.

“Hey.” He gave Mordenna a quick, unsure smile and then took up one of the benches, quickly getting to work on the gun. Mordenna peeked over and caught a glimpse of a huge chunk of the wood splintered off, and the metal underneath was bent and peeling away.

“You still messing with that thing?” Mordenna murmured. “I’d just let it go. That gun is older than me.”

“Aw. You’re not old.” Gur-Rai muttered, his voice lacking it’s usual chirp.

“I’m older than you.” Mordenna put down his own project and slowly moved around the bench. “I just hit my fifties and am still going strong.”

Gur-Rai stopped and looked up. “...No way. You’re lying.”

“It’s true. I was in my thirties when the Elders nabbed me.”

“I think even I was younger than that.” Gur-Rai looked interested. “You must’ve been a great shot, for an old timer~”

“I would’ve taught you everything I knew.” Mordenna patted his hood, mindful not to pull it down at all. “I know your Volk is being an asshole and that’s his loss. I’d be proud of you, Gur-Rai. Even after all that, you haven’t lost that spark in your eye yet.”

Gur-Rai fell silent and stared down at the gun on the table. “...Really?”

“Yeah. You’re not as jaded as me, that’s for sure.” Mordenna chuckled. “Take my advice, now that the Elders aren’t holding your leash, hang onto that spark. It’s a wonderful thing you got there, and it makes people really happy to see.”

“What do you mean it makes them happy?” Gur-Rai grabbed some pliers and began pulling off the damaged wood. “And be straight with me, Mords. I don’t want jokes right now, and I really don’t want pity.”

Mordenna paused. “...Hey.” He put his hand closer to Gur-Rai’s arm, almost dangerously so. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want anyone else telling me how good a person I am when clearly, that is not the case.” With a crack, the remaining wood broke into two pieces and flew across the table. “At best? I’m annoying and childish, and at worst I’m a psychopath who uses humor to forget the horrible things I’ve done, and the latter is probably the most accurate.” He tossed the pliers aside. “Nobody is getting joy from this ugly mug, Mords. Only the Elders do, when they hear me scream.”

Mordenna paused, knowing he’d just hit a huge nerve and would have to proceed slowly. Luckily though, it also seemed like he unearthed something. “Do you really think of yourself that way?” He said softly. “Or is that what someone told you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.” Mordenna put his hand on Gur-Rai’s shoulder. “Put down the tools for a minute. We gotta talk.”

“Talk? About what?” Gur-Rai turned to face Mordenna. “I already know where babies come from.”

“Well that’s good but that’s not what I mean.” Mordenna leaned against the bench beside him. “Does all this have to do with that broken gun at all?”

Gur-Rai sighed. “...It was my fault.”

“Doubt it. But continue.”

“Emil was trying to fix a chip in the wood, I couldn’t really tell what he was doing, and I reached around to kiss him and...I guess I knocked the gun, and something came loose…” He gestured to the table.

“And your giving him a kiss managed to bend the metal?” Mordenna sounded skeptical.

“No, just chip the wood. The rest--the huge gash on the side and the metal--he did himself when he threw it at me.”

“He what.” Mordenna suddenly, deeply understood Kon-Mai’s worry. In fact, he was beginning to see red himself. “Over a scratch on a gun that should have been decommissioned before he was born?”

“I guess it’s a super important gun.” Gur-Rai muttered. “More important than me. And…yeah. I believe the exact words were ‘I could get any Muton with a dick twice your size and less of an attitude to fuck me, it’d feel exactly the same and be a lot easier.’”

Mordenna paused. “And then you offered to...fix his gun?”

“I mean, I broke it.” Gur-Rai crossed his arms. “And I just…” He pulled away from Mordenna, moving toward the middle of the room and stopping. “I’m gonna bring it to him later with some wine or something, he’ll take it all back…he’s been a sweetheart before, he made me feel…” From the crack in his voice, Mordenna could tell he was holding back tears. “Special. Chosen. And I went and fucked it up just like I did before.”

Mordenna knew of Gur-Rai’s other relationships (and the details, thanks in part to Gur-Rai’s prolific storytelling), but something about the way he said that felt different. It rang in Mordenna’s ears, loud and familiar.

“It’s not your fault that Camazotz hurt you.” Was all he said.

That seemed to do it. Gur-Rai curled in on himself like a shriveled up leaf, and began to shake violently as he sobbed into his hands. Mordenna came up behind him and put a gentle hand on his back, which then turned into him taking Gur-Rai by the shoulders and pulling him into a loose hug. Gur-Rai froze for a moment, still shaking, and then wrapped his arms around Mordenna so tight it almost made the latter cough. He buried his face in Mordenna’s shoulder and let out a weak, quiet sob.

“You didn’t fuck anything up.” He assured him, speaking to him as he would a comforting child. “Camazotz…maybe he thought he loved you, but what he did isn’t love. And it’s not how you treat your children. You didn’t deserve to be hurt by him, and you didn’t deserve a gun chucked in your face today.”

Gur-Rai sounded like he was trying to speak, but it came out as sobbing once again. Mordenna guided him over to a sitting bench and the two collapsed onto it, With Gur-Rai retreating into himself again until Mordenna unwrapped him from that knot and brought him back into his arms.

“I know how you feel.” He said. “God, I spent so long trying to get Odin to be proud of me. And sometimes he’d shell out little bits of praise, bits of affection that kept me hanging on just that much longer, but that’s not enough. It’s not enough to occasionally say you love someone until they upset you, because people who really love you will love you even when they’re angry.”

Gur-Rai flinched at that. “God, please, no. I can’t…I don’t want anyone else to hate me.”

“Gur-Rai, this ship is full of people who love you.” Mordenna insisted. “Let's start with your siblings. Your sister loves you so, so much, you know that?”

“I make her worry.”

“She worries herself, which is her own problem. But she wants you to be safe and happy. Your brother too. And us.” Mordenna rubbed his back. “You’ve been spending so much time down here with me…I feel like we’ve been family forever.”

Gur-Rai hesitated…then he looked up and chuckled. “I mean, you are old enough to be my dad.”

Mordenna snorted, then smirked. “Okay, fine. As your new dad, I’m vetoing all of Camazotz’s previous rulings.”

“Wait.” Gur-Rai blinked. “...Mords. Mords you…” He shook his head. “You probably shouldn't…you know me, I’m a trainwreck on very long legs! I’ll give you a heart attack before you hit 55!”

“Do you realize who you’re talking to?” Mordenna chuckled. “If Odin had had hair, I like to think I’d have turned him grey years ago. I’m not intimidated by the concept of guiding a slightly younger, frankly more childlike version of myself.” His face softened. “If you want it.”

“I…” Gur-Rai swallowed. “I just never had a dad…like a real dad…what do I even do?”

“First off, you sit here and let me hold you while you cry.” Mordenna pulled Gur-Rai back into a hug. “And, when I tell you I love you…you believe me.”

“...Okay.” Gur-Rai squeezed Mordenna back, burying his face in the warmth of his father’s shoulder. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Good job. I…” Mordenna swallowed. “I love you, kiddo. Just as you are.”

As Gur-Rai settled in, and Mordenna gently rocked him back and forth, he began to plan out in his mind exactly what he would do to Emil when he was done down here. It had been a hot minute since Eliza had let him interrogate someone. 

And maybe he’d bring Kon-Mai along too. 

.

.

.

(I know SFTD will be reaching it’s final act sooner rather than later, let me just say again what an honor it has been to read it, to fully appreciate the Chosen and to get inspiration for my own story too! Hoping for more wonderful writings in the future!)

[kazeofthemagun]

Kaze - Character Tropes

[A thing I compiled for fun for my portrayal of Kaze and all my headcanons. There is so much stuff on TVTropes that I may keep adding as I go. He does have a page on it but it's lackluster for my taste XD but here it is.]

[Putting all this crap under a read more cuz that is long.]

Purpose-Driven Immortality / Regenerative Immortality - as long as the prophecy holds and Chaos still exists, Kaze cannot die. When his body is killed, he comes back through regeneration, centered on the Magun.

Soul Jar - the Magun, specifically, his heart that had been transplanted into it and bound him to the Gun Dragon sealed in the Demon Weapon. The vial is warded by very potent magic - supposedly, only another Unlimited has the power to break it.

Touched by Vorlons - granted immortality by Bahamut, the Gun Dragon, upon being accepted as Magun's prophecized perfect wielder - Unlimited.

Cybernetic Mythical Beast - the Gun Dragon and how he came to be - made from the slain Bahamut's corpse and infused with tech, animated by his still-living soul. As such, all Summon Spirits that come from the Gun Dragon and his Magun are also biomechanical in nature.

Dracolich - Gun Dragon is technically undead, while also reinforced with machinery to create a "perfect Weapon". He's forged from parts of his own corpse, bones showing through such as the arms, legs, exposed spine.

Draconic Abomination - Gun Dragon.

Dragons are Divine - Gun Dragon as the Windarian God of Destruction - the title gets passed on to Kaze as his chosen and vessel. Also War God.

BFG - Magun is fucking massive.

Bling-Bling-Bang! - Magun seems to be made of gold, but is really composed of an unidentified alien metal. Shiny tho.

He Who Hunts Monsters - fanatical levels of obsession with hunting everything Chaotic. (His title of choice being literally the Hunter of Chaos, Hunter for friends.) Definitely partially a personal vendetta - his whole world was devoured and his own mind was ripped nigh to shreds - but also a purpose felt strongly through the connection with Magun/Gun Dragon, a Demon Weapon forged specifically to combat Chaos that activates only at its scent, pre-repaired verse. Almost leads to a Van Helsing Hate Crime against Ai and Yu - luckily, Kaze is not that merciless and spares the kids for wanting to live as humans and not demons. All in all, Kaze/Gun Dragon are a cosmic force that opposes Chaos till the end of time. Also Married To The Job.

Collateral Damage - piss him off and you're gonna go. Alongside everything in approximately a 5 mile radius of where you're standing. (Thankfully he learns more restraint with time, attempting to minimize casualties where possible. Still, if ending Chaos requires sacrifices.. so be it.) Probably also Inferred Holo//caust in FFU. He had blown up huge chunks of land to end his foes. Likely killed people or at least animals :/

The Stoic - His personality archetype.

Weak to Magic - Blue Elenium, a special type of water magic that corrupts Soil. As an extension, Kaze is harmed more by water magic in general, seeing as the energy messes with Soil flow.

Trauma Button - having his hand held/touched suddenly. It brings painful memories of his sister, Aura, who died holding his hand. Under Chaos' influence, it was one of the only memories Kaze still had of her, rendering the trigger particularly intense and sending him into dissociative episodes. Furthermore, a fear of Gaudian flowers - the blue phantom flowers that herald the arrival of Chaos. Suffers from visions and nightmares of a very gory nature that involve said flowers.

Shell-Shocked Veteran - of the War with Chaos.

Loners are Freaks - he is an introvert born to a society that abhors weakness as disgraceful and sinful. Has trouble connecting with people - but he also (mostly) doesn't need to. Due to the nature of his quest, accepts his fate as the one who will never fit in anymore. "I am the monster who hunts monsters so that you may sleep at night human. It is a thankless job."

Beware the Quiet Ones - his silence precedes a storm. When he speaks, his words boom as thunder - be they a roar or a whisper. This man wastes no words.

Aloof Ally - self-explanatory.

Tranquil Fury - most of the time. Also, Rage Breaking Point applies when facing Kumo mid-show. Except Kumo promptly wrecks him, without much effort involved. It is only later (After-series) that Kaze recovers most of his power and sanity, and gains equal footing to his rival.

Firing One-Handed - can only do so this way. Only has one hand 99% of the time, the other is bound to the Magun and is reformed only to fire it.

Guns vs Swords - him and Kumo - Demon Gunman vs Demon Swordsman. Gun Dragon vs Sword Dragons.

Hand Cannon - Magun, to a lesser degree Orthrus.

I call it "Vera" - with Orthrus, named after the patron shepherd dog spirit of the sun's blood-haired children.

Improbable Aiming Skills - especially with the Gun Demon sight.

Overheating - the Magun when too many summonings are performed too quickly. As an extension of it, Kaze himself. May result in a death via Spontaneous Human Combustion.

Sawed-off Shotgun - Orthrus, double barreled.

Sniper Pistol - Orthrus.

Trigger Happy - self-explanatory.

Ancestral Weapon - the Magun, passed down the line of the Windarian summoner prodigies.

Made of Indestructium - the Magun, which cannot be broken by anyone short of another Unlimited.

Living Weapon - the Magun. Also, Legendary Weapon.

Shapeshifter Weapon - the Magun, a part of Kaze's body - gauntlet, windmill, gun. Replaces his right arm.

Only the Chosen May Wield - the Magun.

They Call Him "Sword" - except, gun. Kaze views himself as more of a weapon than a person at times. Makes sense, considering he is one - his true body is the Magun, which houses his heart, binds his soul and consciousness, and serves as the core from which his regenerative immortalitysets to work.

Nemesis Weapon - Kaze's Magun to Kumo's Maken. While forged for the same purpose, they govern conflicting energies. Also, Sword vs Gun.

Weapon Wields You - the Magun to Kaze with its funky laser-guided teleportation, always going after Chaos. Oh, Chaos' signature is underneath the ocean? Too bad.

Equippable Ally - Kaze, after reducing himself to the Magun and having Kumo and Lisa wield him to bring out the Gun Dragon.

Human Weapon - Kaze, literally.

Become Your Weapon - Kaze with the Magun.

This is a Drill - the Magun's Soil engine that activates Soil through spiral motion. Combined with a wholeass windmill.

Spectacular Spinning - the Magun's windmill. Plainly put, Spin to Deflect Stuff. Also, Blow You Away applies due to the Tornado Move.

Deadly Rotary Fan - the Magun's windmill used offensively.

Swirling Dust - Soil Spiral on the winds generated by the Magun.

Transformation Is A Free Action - seems to be the case in the series. May not be the case always.

Mechanical Lifeforms - Gun Dragon and all its summons.

Badass Cape - of course.

When Things Spin, Science Happens - the Magun's spinning shenanigans empower Soil.

Stock Footage - the summonings. He is become budget, Destroyer of Chaos. Also Transformation Sequence. Guy has a routine.

Running Gag - his spontaneous appearances, seemingly from nowhere.

Emergency Transformation - soul reforged into a Soil bullet, summoning himself as the Gun Dragon.

Elemental Powers - all the summon spirits.

Soul Power - Soil.

Soul-Powered Engine - the Magun/Gun Dragon.

Merger of Souls - Kaze with all of Magun's leftover Soil, as well as Bahamut's soul that animates Gun Dragon. Also Many Spirits Inside Of One - Endless White as the confluence of all the colors.

Emphatic Weapon - the Magun has a mind of its own, considering it is a vessel for the Gun Dragon.

Shoot the Hostage Taker - with Soljashy. Goddammit, Lisa.

Theme Music Power Up - Demon Gun Dissolve and Demon Gun Shot.

Black Blood - Kaze's blood, corrupted by the Magun's smoke. His earring, made of his own red blood mixed with tree sap, is a reminder of when he was still fully human. Technically also Machine Blood - it serves as a coolant for Magun and catalyst for Soil. Furthermore, My Blood Runs Hot - whenever Magun malfunctions. May be dangerous, as already mentioned.

Important Haircut - Kaze wears his hair long specifically as a "fuck you" to Windarian folk beliefs related to the blood hair curse.

Dark-Skinned Redhead - self-explanatory.

Death Glare - his usual go-to method of communication.

Icy Blue Eyes - a cold stare.

Eyes Do Not Belong There - Gun Dragon, with four eyes on the chest and one on the belly in addition to the four already on its head, also, many other summons, such as Phoenix or Raiden.

Glowing Eyes of Doom - Kaze's special Gun Demon crosshairs eyes, for when the time comes to be particularly scary.

True Sight - Kaze is capable of seeing through most basic illusions due to an extremely sharp spirit sense. Can see certain types of ghosts. Also Supernatural Sensitivity.

Cool Shades - wears a dark lens over his left eye to minimize distraction via Orthtus' muzzle flash. Also, Sunglasses At Night.

Megane - lol.

Lean And Mean - also lol.

Jerkass - he is. Sometimes Jerk With A Heart Of Gold.

Facial Markings - the wave on his nose and the solar marks under his eye.

Power Tattoo - the Embrace (Gun Dragon's claws upon the shoulders.)

Fingerless Gloves - wears an archery glove that covers the pointing finger and thumb only.

Eccentric Artist - also outside of battle. Primarily a poet, draws sometimes.

Being Tortured Makes You Evil - by Chaos, after being possessed. Returned to being good-aligned after some time.

Brainwashed And Crazy - by Chaos, to obsessively hunt Kumo. Now recovered. Also Mind Rape.

Laser-Guided Amnesia - his memory loss and subsequent insane pursuit of Kumo mid-show.

Curse - according to his people's folklore, the unusual color of his hair.

Stress-Induced Mental Voices - happens a lot, bothin hallucinations and the Soil speaking.

Heroic Willpower - to stand strong against Chaos.

Dark and Troubled Past - everything about him. Everything. Also Born Unlucky - cursed from the start.

Sole Survivor - of Windaria's fall.

Last of His Kind - last Windarian.

Meaningful Name - Black Wind.

Rite Of Passage Name Change - from the nickname "Wolf" to his current name, as granted by his clan.

Driven to Madness - first somewhat by his pursuit of power, then more so by Chaos.

No Medication For Me - good luck getting him to medicate for his issues. Chances are it would not work anyway due to his altered nature.

There Are No Therapists - on Windaria.

Good Thing You Can Heal - gets injured or killed multiple times during his quest. Good thing he's immortal, right?

I Can Still Fight! - frequently, especially when Kumo is somehow involved.

Organ Dodge - his heart is no longer in his chest.

Wound That Will Not Heal - still feels a type of phantom pain where his heart once was - the surgery scar is the only scar that refuses to heal.

An Arm And A Leg - the Magun essentially removed his right arm below the elbow.

Arm Cannon - the Magun.

Artificial Limbs - the Magun, replacing Kaze's right arm.

Handicapped Badass - despite possessing only one hand (when Magun not thawed).

Don't You Dare Pity Me! - Kaze and most of the Wind Warriors' culture in general.

All Are Equal In Death - as Soil.

Anti-Hero - also Pragmatic Hero.

The Cynic - self-explanatory.

Badass Creed - “From the Glory of Death, for the Glory of Life.”

Battle Cry - “Soil is my power!” Also Catchphrase and Calling Your Attacks.

Pre-Asskicking One-Liner - sometimes. "What is the matter with the Magun? Why won't you use it?"

Giving Someone the Pointer Finger - “The Soil Charge Triad to use on you has been decided!”

Big Brother Instinct - around Aura.

Parental Abandonment - never knew his parents, grew up on the streets as an orphan.

Summon Magic - Soil-Adherents train in Soil summonings - the Magun allows Kaze control over all summons, except ones of Mist.

Summoning Ritual - the Soil Charge Triad.

Offscreen Teleportation - played for comedic value. Is actually Soil Spiral teleportation, though.

Forced Sleep - induced by Kumo, causing Kaze to slumber for twelve years. Sleep, bitch!

Mage Marksman - self-explanatory.

Warrior Poet - "The gilding of a blood indomitable... True Sanguine."

Religion is Magic - the Soil poetry is sacred to Windarian summoners.

Dark Messiah - as the Dark Unlimited, Hunter of Chaos.

Duelling Messiahs - him and Kumo, who fits the light end of the spectrum. But will Makenshi's purity serve him? Hmm...

In Love With Your Carnage - You can kill efficiently and potentially kick his ass? Hot. Also Power is Sexy.

Magitek - the Magun and all its summons.

Human Alien - Windarians, Kaze's species. Also Proud Warrior Race.

Martyrdom Culture - the Missionary caste Soil-martyring for the Adherents.

[willadisastercry]

Keep Moving Part 1

tw: depicton of explosions, broken bones, head trauma, vomiting, collapsed building, being trapped.

Keith is on his self sacrificing bullshit again and no one is surprised. The only difference is this time be can’t extricate himself from the terrible situation he very much asked for before it goes horribly wrong. And it just continues to get worse. **also a part 2 has been written but not finished and I may cut it down so there is at least some closure... might also just finish it but willa makes no promises**

“We’ve cleared the red zone, Matt!” Pidge reported breathlessly into her coms on direct line to her brother and the other rebel space crafts that joined them on their mission.

“Copy that,” she said, slowing her sprint to a jog, “they’re waiting until we make some more ground to start dropping their explosives.”

“I don’t know how soon we’ll be on the move, we’ve got two fleets of sentries headed our way,” Keith reminded.

“We’ll just have to make as much distance between ourselves and the death zone as possible before everything goes boom, unless Keith is afraid he can’t keep up with us...”

Keith just stared at Lance blankly, struggling to accept that he did in fact just say what he thought he said.

“Obviously, but the issue is--” 

Lance never got to know what the actual issue was because before Pidge could tell him, he was face down on the floor, butt in the air still smoldering from where he was shot by a sentry. 

The first fleet had caught up to them.

“Bullseye...” Hunk said nearly crying from holding in his laughter.

“Shit!” Keith watched as the fleet descended on them quickly and started shooting at what seemed like a never ending stream of purple and metal.

“owWWWW-”

“Lance, shut up and start shooting.” Keith ordered, hauling the taller boy up by his neck guard.

There was little cover in the hallway and so the paladins had to quickly manuver between blocking the sentries’ barrage with their shields and engaging their bayards to take a few out at a time. Lance had recovered from his owie and was now dropping sentries from behind the cover of Hunk’s legs.

“We need to keep moving!” Pidge urged, taking a couple steps back.

“You guys keep going, I’ll use my sword to push them back,” Keith offered.

“No! We don’t need to split up, just keep moving back I have an idea.”

They all walked backwards slowly still firing shots and deflecting hits while Pidge activated her bayard and then before they knew it she had it wrapped around the upper portion of the nearest sentry and was swinging it accross the width of the hallway, clobbering several of them into each other and successfully congesting their procession.

“Damn Pidge...”

“Keep it moving Paladins!” Allura echoed over the coms.

“Ya know, sometimes I’m terrified of you Pidge,” Lance mused as the four of them took off in a dead sprint down the narrow corridor.

“Don’t know... if I should be flattered... or offended...” she huffed, struggling to keep up with the other three.

“It’s a compliment!”

“Yeah, well who wouldn’t be scared of five feet of pure--”

“Careful... Hunk.”

“... intelligence?”

Keith laughed to himself at his teammate’s menial banter. It lightened the tense atmosphere of battle and action of which he was mostly really greatful for, except when they needed to be serious and Lance was still posing hypotheticals about conceiving with a space mermaid.

But it was his lack of partcipation in the conversation that alerted him to the  pounding of metal on metal somewhere around them of which was very odd.  They had just lost the last fleet and were supposed to be nowhere near the second, but when he slowed down to asses as the others passed by the opening of another corridor, a shot from a sentry’s gun nearly took Pidge’s helmet off. And then before anyone could even react, the hallway they were in flooded with sentries, affectively seperating Keith from the rest of his team.

The paladins got to work quickly, but they were soon overwhelmed. 

And then Keith heard the fleet from before gaining ground behind them and decided that since he was already seperated, he might as well take some of the attention off of his team while he was at it. And so he ran back to the last possible turn he could take between him and the first horde, diverting their focus onto him with a significant section of the new fleet of sentries following suit as well.

“Yeah, so you’re gonna have to find another way out for me when you get a chance Pidge.”

“What? Why?...” and then to his friend’s horror they realize that he is simply just gone and so were half of their assailants.

“May have gotten cut off by that fleet when they dropped in on us, but it’s okay! I can handle them, only issue is they’re pushing me back towards the rebel destroyers, ya know where we just narrowly escaped from... so if you have any suggestions on how to get me out of here before I get blown up... I’d greatly appreciate them,” Keith stated almost amusedly and his team could hear the zip and crack of sentries being taken out by his bayard.

“Ok, ok, ok—Lance I need cover, Hunk I need help, can you configure...” the rest of Pidge’s orders were drowned out by the whining of metal above him and then her voice was frantic over the coms, interrupting it all to tell Keith that a massive bomb had just been dropped directly over him and that he had about five minutes before the structure gave.

Well, shit.

He picks up his pace and focuses on just evading shots from the fleet when he hears a particularly loud groan from above. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he huffs and looks back to see that as the sentries round the corner, he has put enough of a distance between them that they lower their weapons temporarily because they’re not close enough to lock onto a target.

There’s another groan from above as debris begins to make its way through the metal interrior at the farthest end of the corridor where the sentries are filing in. Perfect. He realizes that he still has a long way to go and can’t navigate via Pidge if he has to worry about being lasered in the ass by a horde of metal minions, so Keith ducks into a doorway and starts firing at the mass.

Over the coms Pidge continues to update him on just how badly he needs to not be in that hallway. The entire ceiling is caving but Keith hasn’t moved, he refuses to. Pidge watches his heat signature and the flashing red light on her scanner letting her know the integrity of the building is waning.

“I have an entire fleet on my tail, gotta at least make a dent!”

“Just another day of Keith on his self-sacrifice bull shit!”

Keith did not appreciate Lance’s tone. His plan was sort of solid. The sentries just need to keep marching and not switch into ‘chase mode’ a little longer and then the ceiling will finally give and smush them. Solid.

“Lance on ur left!”

Zap. Crash.

Karma.

“Thanks.”

“Pidge, I’ve entered the intelligence room.”

“It should be the main panel, shiro”

“Got it, getting started now”

“Pidge get down!”

Keith listened to his team struggling against their own fleet as large pieces of debris came down all around him. He didn’t need Pidge’s fancy scanner to tell him the ceiling was about to go.

He took one last look. The sentries were close enough now to start shooting. He breathed deeply. Just a couple more seconds. And then there was a massive crunch from above and he took off running in a zig zag, the ceiling breaking apart in large pieces behind him and taking out clusters of sentries at a time

Beautiful. 

Glancing over his shoulder as he ran he watched the last sentries disappear in a plume of dust and smoke, turning around only to narrowly avoid a falling spire of shredded metal by toppling over the chunk of ceiling that had crashed down already in an effort to not get impaled.

There’s a loud crack after his foot is stopped against the base of the debris and his body twists away awkwardly, victim to the mercy of his own bodies’ momentum he falls to the floor in a sprawled heap.

Keith didn’t recall screaming.

The coms were soon alight with a flurry of concerned questions and orders for him to declare his status, but he couldn’t make any sense of what they were saying over the white hot pain in his leg.

All Keith could muster the strength to focus on in that moment were the beams  flying over his head. How the fuck--? But before his mind could even attempt to make sense of how any sentries emerged from that, he pulls himself closer to the ceiling chunk he just ate shit on and ducks down to use it as cover before he started returning shots.

Just a hanful left.

Aim. Evade. Drop.

Aim. That was close. Drop

Duck. What the hell? Drop

“Keith if you can hear me, the building is severely compromised, the ceiling is coming down, you need to MOVE.”

He waves his bayard in a spray and lunges forward off of his good leg to scramble behind more debris.

As he lowers himself down behind another chunk of ceiling, he’s stunned when the visor of his helmet is struck by a sentry’s beam, shattering in his face before flying off. 

Woah.

He can’t hear over the piercing ringing in his ears for several seconds after the initial hit and after a minute he becomes aware of the blood dripping down his neck slowly from where the shattered glass of his visor nicked him.

When the ringing dies down he can faintly hear his teammates screaming his name over the coms, the world tilting before him in more ways then one as the section of the ceiling he was just under comes down on the remaining sentries.

Phew. He lets out a huge breath he didn’t know he was holding.

With some effort, he reaches out for his helmet but is instantly nauseated by the exertion as well as the noise coming from it before it’s even on his head, he lowers the coms volume so he could actually comprehend his teammates concerned questions against the sounds of their own battle.

“I repeat: Keith, sound off!”

“If his vitals are strong... then why the fuck aren’t you responding mullet!?”

“I’m good,” he breathed heavily. “Took care of the fleet, but i think my ankle is really stuffed up.”

He slid his hands under his knee and raised his leg to test what mobility he had in his ankle and couldn’t suppress the light yelp that just the movement produced when his foot dangled limply in the air. Keith’s ankle was definitely broken and not some cutesy hairline shit.

“Okay! Working on it! Don’t try and move for now, you’re suit and boot should support it and keep it in place. Tapping into your suit now... authorizing the boo boo protocol... loading... sweet! Okay pulling up the scans, you should hear a beep.”

Keith could hear Pidge feverishly tappin on a screen as well as heavy metal footsteps and thuds.

“Uhh, so minor emergency,” Lance postured just as Keith heard an electronic beep. “There’s only about a dozen sentries left but their closing in fast, we could use that back up right about now Shiro.” 

Lance cried out as a beam caught his elbow while using a slumped sentry as a shield as he picked off the front of the wave.

“Nah, I’ve got it Shiro!” Hunk called. 

“Pidge is all set... breaking out the big guns now, everyone focus on their original tasks!”

“Got it, I’m almost done here,” Shiro replied.

“Sound off when you’re free and I’ll load up directions to Keiths location—shit, Keith your ankle is like mangled do not under ANY circumstance put weight on that!"

"Uhhhhm, and get crushed to death instead?" Keith said already pulling himself up to lean against the wall with a groan.

 “No thanks.”

"~Minimal weight~ then,” Pidge compromised, “or whatever you can withstand, but that’ll be a couple extra hours in a pod.”

“A couple extra hours of beauty rest might be good for those dark circles on mullet.”

“Lance has a solid a point there.”

“Damn, you know mullets hurting when he’s agreeing with me.”

“I’d just also rather live to see another day.”

“Whatever, just get to the end of the hallway. There’s a supporting beam over there that should hold up until we get to you in case things go south.”

“Noted, making my way now.”

The ceiling above him gave another groan and so did he as more metal and ruble crashed down behind him, but he only focused on moving forward, pushing away his mounting concern for how strangely numb his foot was while his ankle was pulsing with an excruciating ache that shoot up his leg. Every hop nearly made him cry out and tempted the black dots threatening to fully cloud his vision.

“How’s it going shiro?” he gruffed while he took a break, he needed some good news.

“96% complete! Should be done any second now and then I’ll make my way over to you.”

“Okay,” he breathed meekly and bit back the bile creeping up his throat as another wave of nausea washed over him.

His head was pounding something awful now, the helmet took the brunt of the hit but his head was still sufficiently rattled. His ears were still ringing, though it seemed to mostly come from his left side.

“Done. Pidge send me his location.”

“5 sentries left. We’ll be on our way to him soon too.”

It was getting harder to stay engaged with all of the different pains he was in. His whole body just wanted to rest, his ankle throbbed angrily, and his eyelids grew heavier and harder to keep open as the pain in his head drew to a piercing concentration above his left ear, right where he took the hit.

“Hey, Keith?”

It was pidge. Everything was really loud suddenly and the thought of his own voice in his ears seemed like it would increase the pressure in his skull tenfold so he managed a groan in response.

“Did you ever take a hit to the head?”

He took a shuddering breath as he stopped again and leaned heavily against the trembling wall. Or maybe he was trembling. He couldn’t tell which it was.

“Yeah... why?” he managed to half whisper, his head felt like it was going to explode.

“Crap, okay.”

“Pidge?” it was shiro. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing bad, I can just see where he’s bleeding from on my scanner. It’s superficial but he’s bleeding pretty well from his forehead.”

“Yeah, my visor is slightly shattered,” Keith gulped.

“Hey, what’s a lil scratch when it could’ve been you’re whole face?”

“Yes it could’ve, Lance. Glad to see you care about Keith’s face. But sadly I can’t tell if you have a concussion from these scans, so just don’t fall asleep until we get to you.”

“I think I can manage.”

“You sure? Vitals say your heart beat is slow. Seriously, just don’t fall asleep.”

“Ok, yeah, got it.” Keith agreed and with a hmph he dragged himself upright and began hopping along the wall once more.

Whether it was his hearing being testy or the haze of pain distracting him from reality, he didn’t hear the loud groans of the metal shifting above him, threatening to fully give any moment now.

His progress was so painfully slow it had been well over 5 minutes and he had still not reached the end of the hallway that pidge recommended.

“Keith you’re haven’t reached the support beam yet, you’ve got to pick it up.”

He didn’t respond. He was trying. But aside from his ankle being in excruciating pain, his head was as well. The nausea had only gotten worse and his vision was getting iffy too, he saw double if he picked his head up too fast and had to turn the volume of the coms all the way down now because he thought his ears would start bleeding between Lance’s shrill exclammations of victory and Pidge’s directions.

Keith had to take a lot of breaks. Everything was so loud and his stomach was so unruly, the effort to even stand upright was becoming too much let alone making the last few feet of progress.

And then the wall that was keeping him up seemed to come away from him, that or he had keeled over on his own, either way he was now on the ground and could feel as another bomb landed on the structure above him and shook everything with a terrible rumble.

In a climax of pain and exhaustion as well as the violent rumbling of the building collapsing around him, it was all too much. The wrenching in his stomach made his eyes water and his mouth was filled instantly with saliva. He shrugged what was left of his visor up to spit it out only for his stomach to clench and his body to be rocked by his heaving. 

His head swam.

He felt so heavy. 

But he desperately wanted to get away from his puddle of sick, so he sort of crawled away from it, careful to keep his hurt ankle up.

“-eith. keith!”

“Shhh, don’t need to scream.”

“Sorry!”

 “You scared us!”

“Almost made me puke, you know I have a sensitive stomach!”

“Sorry,” he muttered hoarsely, “couldn’t really help it.”

“We know, Hunk’s just messing with you. So you most likely have a concussion if you’re vomiting, but don’t be scared, Shiro’s almost at your location and—“

But he didn’t get to hear what other wisdom Pidge had to reassure him with because another bomb had just exploded above him...

[very-grownup]

THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 8

Episode 20.

EVERYTHING IS FUCKED UP. That giant robot? No arms, no head! What about this giant robot? Shattered pieces! This mountain? Missing chunks! This military base? Fucking got a huge bite taken out of it and now it's a bat cavern! THAT giant robot? A HORRIBLE GROANING SHAMBLING FLESH ABOMINATION UNDER METAL ARMOUR THAT HAS HUMAN TEETH AND HUMAN HANDS AND HUMAN FINGERNAILS AND ROPEY NECK TENDONS AND EATS THE ALIEN INVADERS WHICH I DIDN'T EVEN THINK WERE MEAT FLESH.

The rest of Episode 20 behind the cut.

NERV's relocating in the wake of ... that whole thing, although they won't have the magic decision making super computers that are the Three Magi because no one makes backups of software in Tokyo-3. Asuka is fine. Rei is in the hospital which is fine for her.

Those old dudes who may be holograms and meet in the darkened void on Simon platforms talk about some shit and get all metaphor about Commander Ikari and look I don't know what they're about or what their deal is but they seem angry at Shinji's shitty dad, too.

OH BUT WHAT ABOUT SHINJI ONLY I APPARENTLY ASK oh Shinji he's /still in the horrible berserk fleshbot/ that is wrapped in bandages like the most upsetting mummy with a single horrible eye visible and has just turned itself off. GREAT. You know in Silent Hill 4 there's an area where there's just a /giant injured head/ of the escort quest neighbour and it's really creepy? The EVA gives me strong those vibes but worse because we just saw it /eating a thing/ and people are just talking with it in the background. And the eye. The staring, horrible eye.

The EVA won't turn on and the plug can't be removed so they can't get Shinji out and also uh Shinji is sort of not there anymore? But he is? Shit's gotten all quantum within the confines of this horrible creature.

Misato has a lot of questions like "where is Shinji" and "what the fuck" and "why" and "fix it" for Ritsuko who is leaning full on into being a cryptic and unhelpful science cypher. On being asked what exactly the EVAs are? Oh, they're human shaped things made by humans. FOR FUCK'S SAKE RITSUKO THAT IS ALSO HOW I COULD DESCRIBE BARBIES AND GI JOE AND FUCKING HELLO KITTY. WHY ARE YOU COMMITTED TO BEING UNHELPFUL. Misato slaps her and it's pretty deserved. Like we just all saw a giant we thought it was a robot /eat an indestructible gun proof bomb proof space thing/ and grow itself a giant fleshy arm don't fucking give me some distorted Today's Special magic mannequin bullshit.

Shinji's horrible father? Wherever he is, he seems to be down with it, being talked at by that one old dude who is maybe one of the Simon holograms I don't fucking know man.

Days pass and it's determined from the scans of the inactive EVA that because of the 400% sync rate between Shinji and the EVA, he's been absorbed into it and the inside of the plug is just orange tang which is primordial goop containing Shinji's consciousness, quantumly. It's like that time the flat angel that was a weird space pancake black hole ate the EVA and Shinji's life support gave out and he had weird near death experiences but /for weeks/ and moreso and quantumly.

These parts of the show, in Shinji's subconscious/quantum primordial goo, are really well done and a really excellent use of recycling animation, still shots, all that sort of stuff, for narrative purposes. Using the effect to indicate the fading in and out of conscious thought. Dissolved Shinji putting together his identity and past and reasserting his ego with flashing shots of things from previous episodes, all going by super fast. Sound clips of characters saying his name over wavering, distorted kanji. Megumi Ogata saying "enemy" over and over again over shots of the angels and then shots of Commander Ikari which ... fair and an accurate conclusion to draw as dissolved Shinji remembers Asuka explaining that the angels are their enemies because they've hurt them/humanity. I'm probably stating the obvious, saying this in 20-fucking-20, but Megumi Ogata does such an amazing job voicing Shinji, especially in parts like this.

I've also said it before but the repetition of these things, especially negative thoughts or upsetting thoughts, strongly and effectively evoke the spiraling, cyclical nature of your thoughts turning against you, inescapably, when you have a brain problem like depression.

There's also a stretch where in the primordial quantum ooze void naked ladies appear and sort of come on to Shinji but also it's a lot of 'become one with me' talk which feels pretty different when a dude is dissolved ego in orange tang in a plug in a meat robot. Misato's there, Asuka's there negging him, Rei's there and they're all naked and stretching their arms out to him but also they all sort of merge together into I guess a primordial woman ooze and it's probably some normal teenage boy stuff but there's also big mom vibes. It's all very messy and there aren't really revelations so much as feelings about what might be revelations in the future and also /Shinji is dissolved in the primordial orange for over 30 days someone please care about this child/.

Misato cares about him, at least as much as anyone does (the bar, the bar is so low), and when they finally get the plug out of the EVA and it opens to spill out orange and an empty plugsuit, she cries and curses science and cradles the empty suit.

... Oh also there's like vines or roots or tentacles or /some shit/ growing over the EVA's ... power ... display ... thing ... Fuck it, man, I don't know the anatomy/layout of meat robots.

Then the EVA just, like, pukes naked unconscious Shinji out.

It clearly has nothing to do with anything NERV was doing and is just the EVA deciding to let Shinji go or Shinji deciding to come out of the goop because Misato's crying maybe? Maybe someone should have tried caring about Shinji earlier than day 33!

Nighttime, Misato is driving Ritsuko home and turns down her offer of drinks because of another engagement which is ... fuckin' Kaji. Getting drunk, smoking, fucking Kaji, just going for bad decision bingo. The fucking is all audio over a still of beer and cigarettes. I curse Kaji, I curse Misato's poor decision making, but she very bluntly lays it out that she's there to get information from Kaji about Commander Ikari and NERV's real plans and also Trevor the angel organism in the sub-sub-sub basement. This concludes my report on Episode 20 of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.2

Summary: He’s ended up in a new world, one that is surprisingly similar to his but everyone is so much younger. Tiamat, unable to resist his curiosity begins to observe, acting impulsively.

The Light realizes that they have problems concerning their operations

Tags: Violence, Gore

Tiamat's head was ringing, and it was damn annoying as well as slightly painful. It took a whole lot of effort and will to just open his eyes with his whole body screaming at him for the abuse. Not the first time, he told himself, had worse happen to him on Batman's watch. And then he realized there was a possibility he wasn't alone. His eyes shot open and he lifted his head enough to give the surrounding area a quick scan around before dropping back to the ground, face first of course. He felt as if he got kicked in the head by a horse, which was a close enough comparison given how hard he was hit. 

Fortunately it seemed like the Blight Hounds didn't seem to make it through or were dropped off elsewhere, hopefully somewhere far away, like a different dimension. He was about to seduce and kill a young man who would later become a gang leader as he'd been told by Oriviane, one of the oracles. Though it had nothing to do with Tiamat or the wraiths what his destiny would have been, his name was listed. He would die sooner or later.

It would have just been another night of ending someone's life with pleasure until they were suddenly ambushed by those damned monsters. Ambushes weren't all that unusual though it served to be a pain in the ass having to kill his targets before they ran off. Tiamat was always prepared for these moments and it wouldn't have been a problem if his psyche as well as his powers didn't decide to fluctuate right at that moment. It earned him a swat to the face from one of their malformed paws, and they were strong, if not smart.

“Damn, I hope they didn't scratch me,” Tiamat grunted, as his fingers came away wet with blood. 

He glanced at his surroundings, a thick but not unruly gathering of trees blocked much of Tiamat's field of vision like a forest, preventing him from seeing too much farther, but he could hear a the low drone of activity, human activity just beyond the edge of the spot where he stood. Tiamat followed the sounds, noting how oddly neat these trees were spaced almost as if...he reached the end to find wide open spaces filled with people either picnicking, strolling or playing, and beyond that was a city. Its buildings jutting up unpleasantly over the foliage. His portal navigation had landed him in the middle of a park in god knows where, again. In fairness, it was a stressful moment, trying to open up a door while fending of mutant mutts and no doubt, they must've been scattered over other realms. He really needed to get the hang of this before it sent him into somewhere much more unpleasant.

Strangely, as he kept passing through the thick growth of trees he could hear the sounds of civilization cars and voices, not too far away and as it turned out, he’d reached the edge of what turned out to be a reserved patch of forest. Now he was staring from under the shade, normal civilians passing by going about their business. At least he was sure he wasn’t on some god-forsaken hell. He was about to move forward when a sudden explosion erupted about fifty meters away. He flinched back into the cover and watched intently.

Through the throngs of screaming people, a figure emerged from the wreckage, large and imposing and an awfully familiar at that. It was Bane. Still duped up on Venom.

“Come out you spineless cowards, come out and face Bane!”

Good lord he was obnoxious as ever. Watching him thrash about like a child throwing a tantrum was almost comical. He took out a substantial chunk of the cement ground throwing it about, thankfully most of the crowds had retreated but he was posing a serious threat to bystanders. For now, it seemed that the only damage he was intent on doing was to the surrounding inanimate objects, smashing to be exact, unimpressive really. Then the drugged up criminal fixes his gaze on some unfortunate man on his way to work. Tiamat grinned. Perfect, he had some stress to work off.

Just when he had taken a step out, suddenly Bane was ambushed. Teenagers sporting colourful sets of powers and abilites. One of them, a green skinned boy morphed into a bull charging Bane relentlessly and recklessly. A young blond woman with a bow joined in, notching and releasing arrows effortlessly with near perfect aim. The flashy one dashed in to deliver a series of, flimsy punches. When it comes to Bane, nothing short of a strong punch will affect him, but somehow, Tiamat could feel that was merely to add to the distraction.

Something bigger was coming his way. 

Just as the thought materialized, a large black and blue jean mass came flying in, crashing into Bane with a loud thump and crack that definitely was the sound of a few broken bones. The villain was sent flying back from the impact while the recent addition to the fray watched with a triumphant expression, back straight, floating in the air with the symbol on his chest on display. A Super.

The sight of the S brought memories, slamming back into Tiamat .

“Hey Broody.”

Kon smiling as he hovered over him making terrible jokes about his height, his personality being not as colourful as his costume. Fighting together with their teammates against extraterrestrial terrorists. 

“You know he doesn’t mean that.”

Kon comforting him over his arguments and fights with Bruce and Jason. Hearing Kon’s voice beg him to come home again and again until he couldn’t hear him anymore. And when he finally opened his eyes, he was holding Kon’s head in his bloody hands.

Tim doubled over gagging, holding himself steady grasping a thorny vine that grew along the trunk of the tree, his hand so tight around it the thorns pierced skin and blood ran down his palm and the vine.

“Damn it, not now, keep it together...” he fought to keep the memories suppressed. Just then a giant crash spooked him out of the lapse and he looked up in time to see a huge Gorilla in a stupid hat flattening down everything In its way, with a machine gun to match. Following behind were what looked like a few hired goons, of course, why not. Bane always made sure to be stocked up on henchmen and backup.

This was however turning into a bit of a joke and Tiamat was getting bored of watching.

“Robin!” A slight figure leaped out of nowhere at the command, unleashing a whole arsenal of batarangs and smoke pellets. The flying pieces of metal successfully took down a portion of the goons while the pellets burst, enveloping the area in thick smoke. No one can see through it accept for Superboy but they had definitely planned this enough not to require visibility. Tiamat ’s suspicions were confirmed when the green shapeshifter charged right into the smoke, audibly knocking out more of the hired guns, both Robin and the archer jointly disabled the remaining men caught in the smoke. Bane could be heard roaring over the commotion, Gorilla sniffed and grunted. Suddenly, Superboy and a girl with a familiar symbol dived in, tackling the two. The team’s hard hitters best suited for tanks like Bane and the Gorilla. Tiamat guessed they must be this world’s Teen Titans, which meant he had to be careful who he came in contact with.

After a whole load of punching and kicking, the two villains were finally down, disappointingly enough, how boring. They began discussing something together possibly about whatever mission they were on while the blond with the lasso and the speedster began tying everyone up. Just then the  farthest man lying just a meter of where Tiamat was hiding got up and started sprinting off into the woods.

Tim watched the man as he made his escape into the darkness, soon noticed to be by the teens, his lips stretched into a sinister grin. He sat back on his haunches, preparing for the chase.

“Let the hunt begin.”

“We have a runner,” Nightwing sounded slightly fed up, his tone coloured with annoyance as he watched the last of Bane’s hired gun run of to the woods. No one could blame him, since it’s been a long day and no doubt, going to be a long night for him in Bludhaven, the wicked never sleep. So the team started off after him as the heavy hands came to take the criminals away for locking up. Kid Flash was definitely the fastest but not the brightest, and in an environment like a forest, odds were that he’d trip up or spend the whole day searching high and low for the man, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d run off not knowing where he was going or running into. Beast Boy had the right idea though, as a hound, he had the escaper’s scent. So they followed him into the thick growth. 

Finding him was actually harder than they thought, he had no tracker so all they could really rely upon was Superboy’s senses and Beast Boy’s ability to track as an animal, even then Connor couldn’t see past all the trees with his vision and Garfield lost his scent a few times.

“He must be in the deepest part of the forest by now,” Artemis said.

“Keep searching, if he’s going back to base this could mean finding the ones responsible for the meta-trafficking,” Nightwing ordered.

“He could be headed towards the docks, it’s the quickest and closest way out,” Robin said, it made sense and Nightwing agreed, it was the only other place that anyone could find a way to get off the island. As they got nearer to the docks, Superboy stopped all of a sudden, his teammates stopped as well.

“Superboy, what’s wrong, is-” Wondergirl began to say when he shushed her, his ears picking up whimpers and sobs and some frantic words that were to muffled for him to hear properly. But he could tell which direction.

“Over there,” he said, facing in the direction of the sound just off to the side to where the docks were, .

They followed Conner to what looked like the deepest part of the forest when he faltered and bent over looking shaken.

“What’s wrong,” Nightwing asked, checking him over with concern.

“Someone screamed and it wasn’t any scream, I mean a real scream,” Connor looked up and around, panicked, “I can’t hear him anymore.” 

With this disturbing reveal, Nightwing and Robin both took off in that direction, with the others following after Superboy had recovered. Beast Boy was in the lead again, with the scent strong this time and they ventured on before Garfield started yelping, then, the smell hit them hard, the smell of blood and urine.

“Oh my god,” Artemis let out a hoarse whisper.

Everyone stopped, their mouths hanging open in shock. The corpse lying before them was definitely their runner, but he wasn’t going to be answering questions or going anywhere but the morgue. His limbs stuck out at odd angles like he was flailing about so much they were arranged haphazardly, his uniform was ripped open and so was his throat. The chest area bore several gashes. Right arm ripped off and legs punctured. He looked like he’d been mauled by a savage animal except, no animal can make such clean cuts as the ones on his chest, the claws must have been thin, needle like. His mouth hung agape with terror and he must have been scared enough to wet himself with the darkened patch on his pants mixing with the blood that was now seeping in, staining the grey a darker shade.

“Wha- who could have done this?!” Cassie gasped. Nightwing took a tentative step forward, he’d seen bad things in Gotham but never something like this here. Something had made it’s way on the island.

He looked back to see Robin had also followed his movement but he seemed to be on the verge of getting sick, he was too young to witness something like this. Nightwing didn’t want to baby him. Working as Robin alongside Batman meant being in the middle of things like this but still...he glanced back at the body. This was too horrible.

“You guys, go back to HQ, call Batman, tell him we’ve got an issue, possibly something worse than the crisis at hand,” he ordered the rest of the team, “Robin, look at me, I know it’s going to be hard but go back with them, take the rest of the day off.”

“But I-.”

“Listen to me, Tim, I’m not putting you off missions because I think you’re not up for it, but I’ve had something like this happen before and it isn’t something you can just shake off, take it from a guy who tried winging it,” Dick gave him a wry smile, “Go home you earned it.”

Both Nightwing and Robin looked at the tattered remains, “I don’t think it’s exactly safe there right now.” 

Batman was waiting for them when Nightwing and a few others were finished assessing the situation and had returned to their new cave headquarters. The mountain they had once called base was demolished and smoothed over but in the process of retrieving precious components the had managed to unearth tunnels and caverns formed long ago when lava still flowed here.

It was almost like the old one, well, technically it was, or rather an extension of the old cave.

Batman was tapping away at the computer when they finally arrived.

“I’ve heard a lot about what happened, report.”

Aqualad, Blue Beetle looked rather ill, Nightwing wasn’t happy to have dug his hands deep into the case. 

“Nothing good,” Dick said as he produced a image storage card from one of his compartments, and slotted it into the computer then turned to the rest of the teens gathered around watching curiously, “If any of you guys just ate and don’t have the stomach for this, you might want to look away, especially you Static.”

“I think I’m cool, I’ve been working on this team for a while.”

None of them seemed to be able to look away and Nightwing raised a brow questioningly but relented, “Suit yourself.”

The series of images that popped up on the screen were...hard to digest. The first image of the dead gunman in the woods was obvious, to some but there were more, far more to come. And they got bloodier and bloodier, multiple bodies piled upon each other or strewn around warehouses, corridors, missing limbs, missing eyes, throats torn, one had his skull crushed and a few sliced cleanly in half. All merciless, and brutally killed. All in the same uniform. 

Some retching could be heard in the background, a few of the teens’ eyes had gone wide and forced to look away. Even Superboy, claiming to be fearless didn’t find it easy to be seeing this. Bart grimaced.

“We can assume that this was the base where our runner was going to and whoever, whatever got to him got here first, from what I can tell there were no survivors.”

“Oh god,” M’gann’s voice was merely a whisper.

“Have you determined who they were working for?”

“Only that the hired muscle belonged to Luthor and the whole operation was headed by Bane. The base located just a few miles off the coast was built overnight, it’s supposed to be temporary. That’s how they got so many guys to infiltrate the island. Today was supposed to be the first wave, scout and weaken we know the Light is pulling strings again and they were planning to completely take out the Young Justice.” 

“The full attack was scheduled two days from now, a whole army coming at us...there were a lot of people stationed at that base.” 

Nightwing looked visibly shaken, but he collected himself enough to give the rest of the report, “That’s all the information I was able to recover from their smaller caches, along with the shots we took of the scene but the rest of the data that was in their main computer, is gone, no messages, no videos, all taken or destroyed,” Nightwing looked grim. 

Batman narrowed his eyes and turned back to the screen, scrolling through the images stored on the memory card. The info explained only a portion of the operation but nothing on what transpired there, no indications of unusual activity, which meant that whatever happened, happened suddenly and quickly. His mind racing through a million possibilities, scenarios, potential suspects who wanted in on this operation or just to sabotage it. Joker was on the list, even if he worked with the Light before, he and they both knew he was a wild card of sorts and could turn easily on any one. But this…

Beside him, Robin had taken a step forward analysing each photograph, the investigator inside of him pushing past his queasiness to work out all the clues and Bruce didn’t miss a single moment of that.

“Whoever did this knew what they were doing, but it wasn’t exactly planned, no, I think it all started with the runner,” Batman said.

“How can you be sure?” Aqualad questioned.

“No prior reports of related activity and in such a short time period starting, with your fight with him he’s done a lot of damage,” Batman continued before Jaime cut in.

“Wait, he?”

“Just one person?” Artemis added.

Batman gave Robin a look, body language he was trained to understand, by now, he’d analysed all that he could in those shots and was already organising them into vital information in his head, he started, “There’s blood on the floor that doesn’t match the shape of any of the men in the photos, it’s distinctly male given the size of the footprint, and it can’t be female as the toes are not narrow enough. The back of the print is narrower so the heel must be high, that alone separates it from the any one of the Lex’s men.” 

“Plus there are some distinct marks in front of each print, they look like dots but on closer inspection,” Robin zooms in on one particular print showing a print with several patterned holes in the front, “Our...killer has clawed feet.” 

“Whoa,” Bart said.

“What the hell could that be?” Static threw up his hands frustrated in the riddle talk, “Our mystery guy has clawed feet and is wearing high heels? Apart from fashion statement, is he human? Meta like us?”

Batman and Nightwing exchanged looks, everybody just looked worried.

“You’re thinking something else aren’t you.”

“Without further investigation we don’t have much to go on, but our gut instinct says the same, someone, something has made it here.”

“And whoever or whatever that is, is extremely dangerous,” Nightwing warned.

“Are you even sure it’s just the one guy?” Kon asked.

There was a pause, Batman turned to the screen, scanning the pictures of mutilated and half eaten bodies littered across it, before he answered, “With this kind of carnage, let’s hope we’re just dealing with one threat and not an army.” 

Meanwhile at Lex Corporations, news about the massacre had reached Luthor, and he was not amused. He sat at his desk scrolling through the reports and the images attached, articles that were published days before. He cared little about the men he hired to do his work but was no savage and seeing the aftermath of the attack, he could only conclude it was performed by one. He could put the blame on a few named psychopaths but wild guesses may not help his case. The announcement given by the Batman claimed that it was both a calculated move and a spur of the moment impulse. The  So now, he had a rabid but logical killer on his hands, probably headed for him. With nothing to help identify them it could turn out to be any one person or maybe more, he’s had attempts on his life but it helps to know the suspects, Arsenal a most recent example but a missile is easy to see, easy to counter. From what Lex could tell, this one will give no warning, far too unpredictable.

“Mercy, make the call, our protective measures won’t be enough I’m afraid,” Luthor said. His bodyguard immediately took out the phone to begin dialling, “I have a call to make myself.”

“So, you’re saying that you’re being hunted, why am I not surprised?” Klarion smirked.

Luthor cocked an eyebrow in response to the jarring comment but continued, “If I may continue, it is but a theory, the only thing that causes doubt is the suddenness of the incident. I’d rather be safe than sorry that’s all.”

“A few dead men and you’re concerned?” the Queen mocked lightly, “How very unlike you.”

“Simply cautious my dear, unlike some,” Luthor shot back, making the woman wrinkle her nose slightly but comment no further.

“Now, now, no need for us to argue over such matters, I understand how important it is to be vigilant, Luthor. You have our support. Let’s hope this setback doesn’t last too long,” Vandal said.

“Thank you, I’ll lay low for a bit, in the meantime we should end the threat while it’s still early.”

Klarion hummed in playful doubt, “I dunno, maybe whoever this is could be fun to play with. They’ve caused quite a stir everywhere.”

“Oui, perhaps this newcomer will make a good ally,” the Brain said in his heavily accented English. Lex looked doubtful, as the Queen but both Savage and Klarion seemed open to the idea, Klarion more so with a glee in his eyes. As long as chaos was involved anything would be enough to keep the boy happy. Though the other members were uncertain, a little bit of investment could go a long way. With both Black Manta and Ra’s unavailable to comment, the majority voted on watching the newcomer first, see if there was anything he could offer and act when the moment was right. 

“Let us observe for the moment, we shall soon see if he can serve the Light.”

[robbyrobinson]

CTHULHU MYTHOS X OWL HOUSE: GODS AWAKEN (XVIII)

Helicopters hovered over the city at a slight distance from the onslaught of the raging fires. Buildings were reduced to rubble from the relentless attacks of the metallic armor. At roughly four o’clock, the National Guard was ordered to fend off the assaults.

Tanks and heavy-armed trucks arrived amongst the crowds of panicking people and parked in front of them. The general emerged from one of the trucks to observe the scene. His thick fingers curled as he gestured to his men to take their shields. They formed a long line and drew their shields sharply. They glued their feet to the ground to tighten their grips.  

The suits of armor wheezed and stumbled along in their sluggish pace. Black ooze leaked through the cracks of the metallic plates. Deathly drones of pain bellowed from deep within them, an unearthly sing song tune. With the general’s approval, one of the tanks directed its gun at the metal suits and fired.  

“Alright, men, look alive,” the general announced.  

A thick smoke obscured the suits of armor from the National Guard’s eye. Without warning, a red tow truck was tossed in their direction.

“Take cover!” he yelled.

The tow truck rammed into the soldiers, destroying the blockade on impact. The suits attacked the soldiers with violent kicks and thrashing. Soldiers were picked up and tossed into buildings like sacks of potatoes. Many soldiers brandished their knives and were able to strike a few blows on them, but they were largely overpowered and mauled. The crowds of civilians dispersed to escape the madness but were also caught in the onslaught.  

“Yes, I have just received word that the blockade the National Guard attempted has failed.” The anchorwoman from before looked down, befuddled. “There had been an announcement by the mayor that he is issuing an evacuation of the city.”  

Luz and Amity ran out of the workshop with Hypnos following slowly behind. “Never get old like me, kids; your fragile bones will bend and tear out of their sockets.”  

“Where did these armor suits come from?” Luz asked aloud “and who sent them?”  

“Must have been Lord Belos,” Amity noted, “just a hunch given the...futuristic aesthetic.”  

“You do have that book hidden away, right human?” Hypnos asked.  

In Luz’s hand, she held a bag. The bag appeared small on the outside, but it was vastly larger on the inside capable of holding an infinite number of items. The Necronomicon was snuggly tucked away in that pocket dimension. The back of the book was laced with papers that had the fire glyphs on them so that when the opportunity presents itself, Luz would activate the glyphs and it would set the book ablaze.  

“I sense that they must be here for that book in your possession,” Hypnos said.

“We have to get back to the Isles, then,” Amity said. She looked at the frail old man. “Do you have a portal to the Isles in your workshop?”  

Hypnos crossed his arms. “An infinite number of portals. Don’t even begin to assume that your world is impenetrable from me.”  

Luz firmly gripped the bag. “We can’t go back now.”  

Amity’s head swerved back almost falling off. “Why not?”  

“We can’t let Emperor Belos’ army level this city. And besides, what if Belos had laid a trap for us when we got back?”  

“Well, that could may as well be true, but-”  

“And what could you possibly do anyway?” Hypnos interrupted, “Amity doesn’t have her witch body so she cannot do magic without her bile sac, and Luz, magic is scarce in the Earth realm; you cannot even use those glyphs here, can you?”  

Luz kicked her foot in dejection. “That is true, I admit.”  

“The only suggestion I have is to allow yourself to be captured.”  

“Wha?” Amity shouted.  

“Sh...sh...” Hypnos held his bony finger in front of his mouth. “If you truly care about these civilians, then perhaps offering yourselves up will be a temporary fix to avoid further harm.”  

Luz and Amity looked at each other for a considerably long time, dread being the most prevalent emotion they were feeling. They heard the sound of screaming coming from the civilians being cornered by the armored fiends. Amity saw the determination in Luz’s eyes, the same determination she saw back when she properly met her at the witch convention. Luz was a lot of things: reckless, stupid...very, very stupid...well, she could take it a step further and call her an idiot who also was rather intolerable once her mind became fixed on the subject at the time. But she was also very compassionate and considerate. It was this reason, or a combination of all the aforementioned reasons, that Amity couldn’t help but love her.

“If that is what it takes to stop Belos, then I guess we can do it,” Luz said at last.  

She took the horn and handed it to Hypnos. “Will you take this back to the Boiling Isles for us?”  

Hypnos nodded. “I will, darling; besides, from what I am sensing, King and the others are at Belos’ kingdom as we speak.”  

As he turned to head back into the store, Luz stopped him again. “Could I ask something else of you?”  

“What is it, child?”  

“Could we have the jar with the shoggoth inside it?”  

“My, whatever for?”  

“It’s just that I feel we might need it once we get back to the Isles,” Luz explained.  

Hypnos sighs. “Kids these days.”  

Odalia was levitating in the air with the staff in her hand. She watched the armors dismantle cars and tossing scraps of metal onto the mass of panicking people. A wicked smirk was on her face. For so long she had reviled humans, something every witch in the Boiling Isles was drilled into believing by the Emperor. It brought a little bit of warmness in her petrified heart that pumped the blood of her bloodline. After waiting a few minutes for her targets to come out of hiding, she was slowly becoming bored.  

She scanned the surroundings and saw a row of six people running in the same direction. She pointed the staff towards the group and began to charge the staff. A red, all-consuming glow illuminated from the gem before a huge, red wave of energy bolted from it. It sliced into the concrete, creating a large, continuous array of cracks. Underneath the concrete, an earthquake shuffled the chunk of the road the six people were stranded on. Powerless, Odalia floated over to the civilians, intimidating them with her staff.  

“Where do you think you’re going?”  

A portly man took a knee, holding his hands to shield his face. “Please, ma’am, spare us!”  

Odalia scoffed at the man. “A spineless rat; unsurprising of you lowly human scum.”  

She shot a red ball towards him to force him to step back. Once he did, he was cowering with the others stranded. Odalia eyed each of them, uncertain of what to do at the moment to them. “You may not move until I figure out what to do with you miserable creatures.”  

“Please don’t kill us!” a red-haired woman yelled incessantly.  

“I won’t,” Odalia said in false assurance, “as long as you do what I say.”

“Mrs. Blight, you better stop what you’re doing at once!”  

Odalia turned around and saw two young women standing under the disheveled road. “Ah, you’re the famous Luz Noceda I have been hearing an awful lot about?”  

“How do you know it’s us?” Luz asked. “I look nothing like the wanted picture I have back in the Isles.”  

Odalia laughed. “Essential salts, human. There exists a deeper magic one that is incomprehensible to lowly people as you.”  

Amity stepped in front of Luz giving her mother a hateful stare. “Mom, why are you laying this attack on Luz’s home?”  

“Our emperor Belos had granted me entry into the Emperor’s Coven.”  

Amity’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Impossible; that goes against the entire method of enlisting witches to join the coven. And I thought you...”  

Odalia tilted her staff. “Regardless of how I got myself into this lavish position, Emperor Belos entrusted me with carrying out his will; the Day of Unity has begun!”  

Luz stepped closer. “Mrs. Blight, I mean no disrespect because you are my good friend’s mother, but can’t you see that Belos wishes to destroy this world?”  

Odalia scoffed. “Who cares about this meaningless world when through my master we can make new ones?”  

Amity clenches her fists. “You are willing to sell what dignity you have left to some maniac?”  

“How dare you speak of Emperor Belos in such disdain!?” She looked at Luz with enough intensity, fire could have danced in them. “What other blasphemous things have you been telling her?”  

Odalia levitated down the chunk of road and tapped Luz with the staff. Amity pried it off Luz’s shoulder. “Enough of that!”  

“Why do you care so much for this rat?” Odalia growled “why would you throw away your future by betraying the will of our master all for this miserable planet?”

“All my life, I allowed you to control my life; you made me end my friendship with Willow for your own convenience. You forced me to be friends with Boscha when I hated her. I became some cruel, despicable jerk who only cared about trampling the competition. But...Luz is different. She...liked me for me. Not because I was some upper-class witch; not because I was a Blight. She started off being a nuisance.”  

Luz turned her eyes down. Amity saw this and pat her shoulder. They looked at each other for a long time as if they were having a mental conversation. Luz nodded and backed away.  

“But...she helped me that one time when Otabin became a huge monster and nearly destroyed the library; she helped me to face my personal fear; she made me realize how wrong I was to kick Willow out of my life because of some threat you and my Dad made. I realize now that my desires of getting enlisted into the Emperor’s Coven was truly not what I wanted.”  

Odalia raised her eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”  

“You were the one that really wanted to be a part of the Emperor’s Coven, weren’t you?”  

Odalia leaned back, stammering. “What? No, it was always-”  

“You failed several times with snagging a spot on the coven, so when you had me, you decided to mold me into wanting that when it was really for you, didn’t you?”  

Odalia scratched her chin for a moment. Another psychotic smirk formed on her lips. “I guess there is no real reason to deny it now; that may as well be the case, but look at you, really.”  

Luz was back to being incensed by what Odalia was implying. “No daughter of mine would ever go out of their way to try to overthrow an empire; why can’t you be more like your siblings?”  

Odalia snapped her fingers to direct the black knight suit to her side. He still had Edric in its colossal hands. It took some time for the two girls to digest what they were seeing, but when it hit them, it did so like a ton of bricks. Amity held the palms of her hands against her mouth to stifle a scream. Edric looked worse than he was initially; now it appeared that his skin was barely holding onto his bones. He was cut down from his initial bodyweight now reminding Amity of the fragility of a butterfly. Edric wheezed but it hurt him immensely like pins were being jabbed into him.  

“Mom...what...what have you done to him?” Amity asked demandingly.  

“Just necessary sacrifices for the future of the Isles,” Odalia stated plainly.  

The cold, disconnected way Odalia exposed her sins unsettled the two. They had thought they could reason with her without being provoked into fighting her (especially because of their magic being gone due to their new bodies), but all bets were off in that moment.  

Amity made a grab for the staff and grappled with it. “What are you little miscreant doing now!?”  

“I am going to break that staff in two to deprive you of whatever pleasure you derive from it!”  

The two family members continued to grabble for the staff when Luz saw the six people still stuck. She looked around for some way to get up there. Sweat beat down the two females’ foreheads the more they struck at each other. Her mother was a lot of things, but she could not deny that she was skilled in her craft. Amity clamped her teeth on her mother’s right arm spurring her into screaming. When she shrieked, she unwittingly cast a red ball of destructive power towards a building and it shattered all the glass in the building and destroyed the foundation.  

A nerve pulsated against Odalia’s forehead. “Enough of this!”  

She smacked Amity across the street causing her to hit a light post. She darted her eyes and saw Luz trying to find a way to get to the captives. Odalia sat down on the staff and made an upward flying motion. The dark magic inside the staff activated and shot Odalia skyward. The six were roughly forty feet from the ground and in danger of falling from the height.  

The captives were once again washed in fear. She scanned them over. Besides the fat man and the red-haired girl, there was a short, bearded man without any hint of hair on his head and an orange shirt and blue jeans. Another one was an elderly woman with two kids to her side. Since they looked like her, Odalia could infer that they must have been the woman’s grandchildren.  A boy and a girl. Odalia smiled again and flew closer towards the woman. She clung onto the sides of the kids’ arms. She was five feet tall as opposing Odalia’s height at 6 ft 1 in, but she was stout for her age.  

“Don’t you even think of harming my grandkids, ya witch!”  

“Why thank you,” Odalia said, “they always said that the older you are, the wiser you get.”  

She grabbed the old woman’s shoulders and pitched her aside. The two siblings tried to run, but the older woman was quicker. She seized both of them by the arm and flew back down with the staff. Both of the children were sobbing loudly, mucus dripping from their noses. Odalia presented the two children before a concerned Luz.  

“What are you thinking of doing with those kids!?”  

“A little game; I am sure that you know why I am here?”  

Luz nodded.  

Odalia firmly propped the tip of the staff under the chin of the young boy who was no more than eight. Luz’s eyes widened. There was no way that Odalia would do what she thought.  

“I will give you till the count of three to hand over the Necronomicon to me in orderly fashion, or I will use the unholy power of the Outer God to tear this cockroach’s head clean off.”  

“Odalia, ma’am, please,” Luz begged, “this is madness!”  

“I am already on 2 right now, human,” Odalia announced, “use your time wisely.”  

Odalia activated the magic within the gem and it glowed again. The boy’s tears rolled down his cheeks and underneath his tilted neck. Odalia kept her eyes locked onto the human girl while still holding a praying mantis-like grip on her victim.  

Luz scrambled with her bag and opened it. Amity awoke from her unconsciousness to see Luz retrieving the Necronomicon. They both shared a look of equal concern and the mutual understanding. Luz breathed heavily and slipped the evil book from the deepest compartments of the bag. She then placed the Necronomicon on the ground and slid it towards the mad woman.  

“There; now let them both go.”  

Odalia lifted her hands allowing the sobbing boy to wrestle his way out of her grip. He met up with his sister and, without much prompt, they darted away to find their grandmother. Odalia grabbed the book and held it with both of her hands.  

“Wise choice, human.”  

Odalia placed two fingers into her mouth to whistle. And it is with that, the armor suits stopped their senseless rampages and turned to look at their leader. They wheezed and continually broke apart piece by piece only to try to reassemble themselves. Luz covered her ears when she heard the screaming that the armor suits were making. But their screaming was done completely inside of their minds. Hundreds, maybe thousands of shrieks of burning, electric misery was ringing in their spiritual eardrums. All the screams came together to form one unison of endless suffering in a cataclysmic symphony.  

Each scream was like rusted nails scratching against an endless array of chalkboards. A piercing, sharp pain to obliterate one’s eardrums. Whatever these suits of armor were, they were conceived through an insidious ritual and are desperate for the sweet release of death.

“Luz? What is it?”  

Luz found herself sprawling on the ground with Amity to her side. Unlike her human friend, Amity heard screaming, but it was not of the visceral variety. But Luz felt her mind becoming undone, or, worse yet, melting and pooling out her ears. Odalia walked towards her amused.

“It’s an odd thing, really. With that kind of response, I assume that you personally knew those witches whose souls were welded to make the armor?”  

Luz looked up; her eyes bloodshot. “What?”  

Before she could inquire of the Blight family matriarch further, she and Amity were spirited away by the suits of armor and ushered into a portal.

[florenceandthemachine]

so i binged all of 911 over the span of like four days and now i can’t stop thinking about paramedic/firefighter jackson (whichever you prefer, both are Very Good) and police sergeant stiles help me

leave it to @jacksonstilinskis to come up with the truly transcendent asks. Because as much as you KNOW I love a paramedic (or any medical field) Jackson, I actually bought a 2020 Firefighters Holding Kittens calendar (that’s a link, I really hope it worked). So you know that’s all I’m picturing. 

Whats even funnier, though, is the fact that Stiles (who would look damn good in his LAPD uniform) absolutely fucking HATE Jackson in the beginning, in a way that would go way past the typical “police vs fire” rivalry. 

It would have started with an attempt at a friendly greeting, a smooth dismissal, something about a fire bug, Jackson’s offhand comments about cops and doughnuts, but that would all have been fine. It would have taken one offhand comment about Stiles’ father (”back in Beacon County? how has he not been shot yet?”) and that would have been it—Stiles would have had an enemy for life. 

Their first post-hatred, on the job interaction would be at the scene of a pretty violent assault—Stiles would have the victim curled up on the front steps of her building, a shock blanket over her shoulders, sitting beside her as Scott finishes taping the area off, while Kira and her team took pictures of everything they could inside—the dents in the walls, the broken window, overturned furniture, everything.

Stiles would have called for some paramedic assistance—the girl had cuts over her palms and a pretty deep laceration on her shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the corpse in the living room. He would be doing his best to try and comfort her, but there was no easy way to say “hey, it’s okay, I’m a great shot, so your abusive husband didn’t suffer when I blew his brains out!”.

Fire would have been on scene before any ambulance or paramedics, which made sense—they were all trained in first aid anyway—and Stiles would have felt his heart fucking sink when Whittemore stepped out of the truck, because the last thing he needed was this asshole with a jaw made of marble and a heart made of coal fucking with this poor girl. 

But then Whittemore is crouched down, and he’s speaking slowly to her, softly, and suddenly she’s letting him stitch up her arm, and Stiles is almost dizzy with how quick things have snapped around. 

So Whittemore could be nice to civilians. That was.... decent of him.

Their next on the job interaction isn’t on the job at all, which is almost funny. Stiles walks into the bank in his civvies and gets in line behind a very, very nice ass. 

It’s wiggling, for fucks sake, as the owner moves his hips ever so slightly to whatever music is playing through a white pair of earbuds. Stiles allows himself all of three minutes to stare before he realizes that that ass is attached to a nearly perfect V of a gorgeous torso... clad in an LAFD tee shirt.

All beneath a blond, cropped haircut, that—unfortunately—Stiles would recognize anywhere.

Stiles isn’t sure what he hates more—the fact that he’s been blatantly ogling a fireman, or the fact that he was ogling Whittemore, for fucks sake—but, thankfully (unfortunately?) his attention doesn’t linger for long. 

At the front of the line, there’s a man standing in a dark coat and jeans, rolling on the balls of his feet—and if the anxious motions weren’t enough to give him away, the panicked smile on the tellers face was enough to set him on high alert.

Sure enough, he only had a half minute to wait before there was a flash of metal, and he pushed back from his heels as he let out a shout. The distraction worked, thankfully—the would-be robber spun on his heel, the teller dove beneath the counter, and Stiles had his arms around Whittemore’s shoulders, throwing him to the floor as a bullet rang out above them. 

His heel may have dug into the firemans leg as he sprung forward, but he’d apologize for that later—his shoulder connected with the mans abdomen and they were both down on the ground in a tussle of arms and legs, Stiles gripping at his wrist, forcing him to unload the gun into the marble flooring of the bank. 

It felt like the struggle lasted an hour, but in less than a second Stiles had the man pinned, gun knocked far from his hand, and Whittemore—fucking finally—had his earbuds out, speaking in rapid fire tones to what Stiles assumed was the local Los Angeles dispatchers.

The good news, no one was hurt. That was the only good news, he decided, as he started to take stock of things when the on-duty officers took over the scene.

The bad news, it was Stiles day off, and now he had about a ton of paperwork to fill out. He fucking hated paperwork. 

Plus his arm hurt.

Plus, he was still mad at himself for spending a chunk of his morning staring at Whittemore’s ass. 

So, needless to say, when he felt eyes drilling into his head, he didn’t have the most pleased expression on his face as he turned.

Whittemore was smirking at him from across the room, eyes dragging over Stiles now-rumpled form, and somehow that made Stiles even more grumpy.

Somehow, knowing that the fire fighting dickwad was checking him out after taking down an armed robber did little to boost his mood.

—

Their third encounter was somehow the most dangerous.

Which was ironic, considering their last encounter had involved a fully loaded gun fired at them.

Stiles, being the great person that he was, had offered to switch duties with Scott for a week so Scott could spend time with Allison (in all reality, he did anything that he could in order to get Scott to shut the fuck up about his perfect love life).

No good deed went unpunished, though, because Stiles was now stuck on evidence duty.

No good deed definitely went unpunished, because less than twenty minutes after he logged “attache case, locked, recovered from Union Station” and he had slid it on the shelf next to “axe, bloody” and “Argent, bank records” when the case started to smoke.

The evidence hall was cramped—it was this tiny, narrow space, full of clothing, papers, baggage, weapons, and it didn’t take long for a huge portion of it to go up in flame. Stiles, bless his heart, was a fucking idiot, because immediately threw himself over the smoking suitcase to try and save some of the evidence in the shelving behind it. The Argent dossier had taken he and his team months to fully compile, and while most of the data was backed up on several servers brought the district, these bank records were the latchkey to the entire case—and he would be damned if a suddenly incendiary briefcase took that work away from them.

Stiles was almost thankful when he heard the fire alarm go off... and was less thankful when he beat the flame off of a folder of paper, kicked open the door to the bullpen, and—

—immediately came face to flame with a wall of fire. 

It was probably foolish to assume that his own little firebox was the only incendiary device left in the building—anyone desperate enough to burn some evidence certainly wouldn’t leave it all to one briefcase—and he would have been really upset with himself if he wasn’t launched straight into panic. 

Shoving the file into his shirt, he threw himself to the floor, ducking low beneath the smoke that was quickly filling the floor. He could go for one of the extinguishers along the far wall of the building, but new fires were popping up everywhere he looked—through the vents in the floor, from a desk in the pen, and Stiles could already feel his lungs heavy with smoke as he made his way to a stairwell. 

The handle was hot, but the stairs were his only option—and he tried to keep himself as low as he could as the smoke pooled into the stairwell, his chest tightening as he suppressed a coughing fit.

As he descended the first flight, he only had a moment to be thankful that he had switched shifts with Scott—with his asthma, Scott would have been unconscious five minutes ago... and wasn’t that a terrifying thought.

Not that Stiles was faring much better. He was less than halfway down to the main floor when his head started to swim, smoke clinging to his clothing and soot singed to his flesh. He had tears streaming down his face as he finally burst through the main floor door, and was thankful that he was already crawling on the ground, because he couldn't have stood if he tried.

Even crawling was hard.

His eyes were completely blurred, burning, and he still had two rooms and the main hall to go through before he was home free, and he didn’t even know if he could make it to the doorframe, and suddenly, his body was swung into the air, a pair of arms tight beneath his knees, moving incredibly fast—seriously, what the fuck—out of the building. 

He clung to what felt like a brick wall, somehow knowing exactly who was beneath the helmet, coat, respirator, mask, and other loads of gear. He was honestly thankful that Whittemore was wearing so many layers, because as soon as they hit the cool air, Stiles took a huge, greedy breath in, and immediately retched. His lips were stained with soot and bile as he tried to prop himself up, the world swimming in and out of focus as he was unceremoniously dropped down onto a gurney, an oxygen mask fitted over his face. 

By the time the world was clear again, Stiles had some soot cleaned off of his arm where an IV was stuck into his arm, he was gulping down oxygen like it was going out of style, and if he hadn’t just come dangerously close to being a human marshmallow he would have laughed when he finally found Jackson in the crowd.

He was standing at attention, looking as perfect as ever, but had an expression that was very alike to a kicked puppy—standing stock straight as his fire chief (a truly terrifying man named Hale) shouted at him. Stiles couldn’t be too upset, really—Jackson had just saved his life, after all (and huh, when had Whittemore become Jackson?), but his lungs were still charred and his chest was too heavy to laugh.

His chest was really, heavy, actually.

And just like that, the files stuffed into his shirts burst forth into his mind. 

The poor medic (a beautiful man with beautiful dimples that Stiles would have been flirting with, helplessly, if he could catch his breath) probably thought he was having a seizure as he started smacking him in the arm, but thankfully the desperation in his eyes must have translated universally, because Danny (even his name was cute) was waving Jackson, Hale, and Stiles’ captain over.

Seriously, Lydia managed to look beautiful, even in her pajamas, her captain’s badge draped on a chain around her neck. She was the first to yell at Stiles for trying to take his mask off—with Jackson right behind her—but thankfully, they all shut up once Stiles slapped the folder from his shirt into her hands, the red “ARGENT” across the charred manilla getting everyone’s attention.

The last thing that Stiles sees is Lydia’s shocked expression, Hale’s muted fury, and... Jacksons cool, grey eyes.

Except they’re electric blue.

Blue?

He passes out.

—

When Stiles regains consciousness in the hospital, Jackson is there. Jackson asks why Stiles saved that file in particular, and Stiles fires back, asking what the fuck was going on with Jackson’s eyes, and they’re both silent for the rest of the night as Stiles swims back in and out of sleep.

Stiles is immediately pulled off the case, and put onto desk work, stuck at the 43rd Precinct while their building is getting cleared by the fire marshal.

The plus side—the only plus side—is that Jackson hovers. If he didn’t know any better, he might have suspected foul play—Stiles was the only officer reassigned to the 43rd, which happened to be painfully close to Jackson’s fire house. 

Weirdly enough, he wasn’t complaining. 

Jackson keeps dancing around him, giving him exaggerated looks, like he thinks Stiles is in on some big secret, and Stiles normally would have been absolutely livid about it—but somehow, Jackson makes it adorable.

Subtlety may not usually be Stiles’ strong point, but he can make it work when he needs to, and his interactions with Jackson proved that. Hale was a good topic, he learns—Jackson lights up when Stiles asks how his team is doing, and brings in lunch for them both the next day. Stiles takes note.

Work is a good topic. Stiles mentions that they caught a mole—a janitor named Daehler, who was caught on camera planting a few of the firebombs in their building, and had financial ties to Argent out the asshole. They’re finally, finally moving to prosecute—and Jackson looks like he’s so happy he could cry, even though Jackson really has no... reason to be. 

At least, not that Stiles knows.

He’s still watching, processing paperwork, and he’s proud of his detective work, okay? So he’s almost embarrassed when he’s totally blindsided by Jackson one Tuesday afternoon.

“Stiles, what are you doing on Saturday the 28th?”

“Hmm? Nothing, Lyds gave me weekends off—”

“You know she hates it when you call her Lyds.”

“—to make up for taking me off the case. Why?”

“I want to invite you to the Firemen's Ball.”

“You—what?”

Holy fuck, was Jackson actually asking him out?

“The Fireman's Ball.” Jackson says, slower, rolling his eyes like he was explaining it to a child. “Chief Hale wants you there, as a guest.”

Stiles feels his heart slow a little, his face flushing red, the embarrassment of his immediate assumption just an afterthought in the next few seconds. “Oh, uh, sure, I can do that. You know inter departmental unity and all. Sounds fun!” he said, forcing a smile, and Jackson just grinned back at him lazily. Stiles distracted himself by taking a far too big bite of the sandwiches Jackson had brought up for lunch.

Fucker.

“Good.” Jackson said, still wearing the same shit eating grin. He stood and swung his coat over his shoulder—free of soot, Stiles was pleased to note (and hated how happy he was)—and started walking backwards out of the precinct. “And for the record, if Chief didn’t ask me to ask you, I would have asked you myself. Just so you know.” he said, winking as he turned and pushed through the door, leaving Stiles to choke on his sandwich.

He actually winked.

Fucker.

—

Decked out in his dress blues, pins and insignia tacked proudly to his chest, Stiles was actually a little proud of himself for feeling so proud, even as he parked his cruiser in-between several fire and rescue SUV’s.

He looked damn fine in his dress uniform, if he did say so himself, and Lydia had helped him style his hair and even talked him into a neutral lip and a darker brow (she was more excited than he was, and she wasn’t even going). Point is, he looked damned good, and felt a small thrill of excitement when Jackson met him at the entrance to the hall. 

“Hang on, we... we can’t go in yet, I have to wait for.... Stilinski, you look amazing.” Jackson almost purred, and Stiles felt pride pool in his belly—and no small amount of arousal—as he did a quick turn, letting Jackson take in every angle. The low thrill only grew when Jackson offered him his arm, checking his watch as Stiles slipped his arm into Jackson’s own, letting Jackson push the door open for them... and apparently, right in the middle of a speech, because—

“...thanks to his brave work, putting the people before his own wellbeing, we now have a family of serial arsonists behind bars. Give it up for our guest of honor, Detective Mieczysław Stilinski!”

And then people were clapping, and Stiles was honestly too shocked to move—thankfully, Jackson was beaming bright enough for the both of them steering Stiles effortlessly across the floor. 

“Breathe, dipshit.”

Stiles sucked in a breath as Jackson guided them to their seats, which was VERY near the front of the hall, a nervous smile finally making its way onto his face as Jackson pulled out a chair for him. 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you would come—” which, fair point, “—and you don't have to give a speech or anything—” another very fair point, “—and the Chief and the Argents have had bad blood since one of them burned Derek’s family alive in his childhood home, so he wanted to express his gratitude.”

Which... holy fuck. Stiles did his best to keep his expression under control as his eyes snapped to Derek, but he must have failed, because Derek’s press-smile slipped into one of actual gratitude, tilting his head as he rose a drink in Stiles’ direction.

The night went by in a blur. Jackson introduced him to the rest of his company, Stiles got a very fancy piece of glass with his name on it (spelled correctly, even!), the dinner was superb. He told some of his better work stories, including the one where he and Jackson had almost been involved in a bank robbery—and pretended he didn’t love the feeling of Jackson squeezing his arm at the table while he laughed.

Eventually, the night died down, until it was just Jackson’s company left, crowded around the last set table in the hallway, laughing and cheering as they swapped stories and compared scars (a busty firefighter named Erica was, by far, the champion there, with a wickedly impressive burn on full display in a gorgeous, backless dress). 

At some point in the evening, Derek had joined them at the table, laughing along with everyone else as he sat. When he stood, though, the rest of them immediately quieted down—it was like a switch had been flipped—and Stiles felt that laser like focus aimed to him when Derek caught his eyes.

“Stiles...” and god, what a relief that it had taken next to no time to talk them all out of calling him Mieczysław, fucking seriously. “... I know that this was all... a little unexpected for you, but I want to thank you personally, for how well you are doing with all of this.” he said, gesturing to the table at large, and Jackson was fucking preening next to him, even as Stiles was a bit clueless. After all, it was just a dinner, right?

He waved Derek’s thanks aside, smiling himself, feeling a little more comfortable as he shrugged it off. “I don’t need thanks, you know that. Any good person would have acted the same. The only hardship for me has been hanging out with Jackson.” he said offhandedly, and Derek laughed again, even as Jackson pouted.

“You’re modest, and that’s okay. But still—it only seems right that given the circumstances, we show our gratitude. Stiles...” and suddenly Derek’s gaze was almost hypnotic, burning into him. “...we wanted to give you the opportunity to join us. It’s rare we find someone so worthy so quickly, and it would be an absolute honor to have you.” he said, and something.... felt off.

He loved being a cop. He always loved being a cop—and while he couldn’t certainly understand the appeal of being a firefighter, he would never leave his precinct. Not willingly, at least. He stumbled over his words when he tried to explain this to Derek—well, more to Jackson, really, but the look of confused humor on Jackson’s face was not the expected result. 

“Stilinski...” he started, in the same tone he used whenever he was describing an incredibly simple task to a brick-brained Stiles over lunch, “...we’re not asking you to become a firefighter. We’re asking you if you want to be able to join... us.” he said, and Stiles would have been frustrated if he didn’t give him a slow blink, his eyes suddenly an electric blue once again.

Uh.

“Jackson...”

Stiles turned away, trying to confirm what he was seeing—and Erica stared back at him with golden eyes. And she wasn’t the only one. There were a few more golds, a few more blue, and Derek, with burning, intense red eyes. 

“What the fuck is going on?”

—

Werewolves.

Derek had immediately pulled him aside, out of the main hall, and Jackson was close behind. He had explained everything—or, “as much as he could”, when they were safely away from any hall staff, and Stiles felt his head swimming with new information. 

Fucking werewolves.

And, apparently, hunters. And kanimas. And magic, and rituals, and more than Stiles could even begin to process.

And then Derek said he would give them some time to talk, and just... left them.

Jackson, for his credit, looked like a kicked puppy. He had explained that he thought Stiles knew from the very beginning, and just hadn’t bothered to confirm it—they were usually in public, around sensitive ears and prying eyes, and Jackson thought he had confirmed it all as well as he could nonverbally.

He was still a wreck, though, and Stiles decided to finally just head that off at the pass. 

“Jackson, if you apologize again, I’m going to punch you in the face.” he said, and Jackson’s—still blue—eyes widened in surprise. “So you’re a werewolf. I can... work with that. All in all, this is not the worst first date I’ve been on.” he said as he kept pacing, and Jackson’s jaw dropped.

Stiles had been trying to go for levity, but as Jackson stared at him, he felt his own nerves start to bubble up. “Well, if you don't want, I mean—”

“Stiles, this is our third date.”

“What?”

“First date was when you moved me out of the way of a fucking bullet, which I now realize you didn’t know I would heal from immediately. Second date... well, pick any of the lunches I brought for you, even though I now realize you didn’t know I was kind of... providing for you. This is the third date. At least. Maybe fourth.”

It was Stiles turn to gape, and he did his best to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. He took a steadying breath and slouched down next to where Jackson was sitting on the floor.

“Look, we still have a lot to talk about. Like, for one, I’m going to be keeping my humanity” Stile started, and that was the understatement of the century. “...but, if this is our third date, does that mean you're finally going to kiss me goodnight?” he asks, and Jackson laughs, letting his hand tangle with Stiles as they sit on the floor. 

When they finally rejoin the rest of the team, Derek looks cautious around him, but Stiles doesn’t care. They’re probably going to have to have their own long talk later, but for the moment, Jackson is smiling at him, and that’s all that he cares about. 

(When they walk back to Stiles’ cruiser, Jackson kisses him goodnight.

With tongue. And fangs.

Everything really was going to be alright.)

[voidtekarc]

Gods

A a few weeks had passed since Kristin left for Ul'dah and sold their family home. Arcuris took one last walk through which was once the Fuller home before the new owners moved in. He ran his hand along the dining room table as walked along the side of it, which he shared with both Ribald and Kristin when they still lived there. He stopped when he got to the end and stared out the window, overlooking the garden that was still in bloom. Kristin sold almost everything in the house, only keeping a few family heirlooms. He didn't want to be reminded of the life she had before while traveling to her new home.

Soon after taking a last visit through their home, he set out on his magitek armor across the open desert of Gyr Abania. There were no storms, no high winds, or clouds. A standard night for a standard day. Things had been quiet for almost week since he cut ties with the last of he Fullers and took control of the mines left to him. He was not happy he had to lie to the workers in the mines about Ribald's retirement, but things didn't need to be more unstable than they already were. He was already drowning in extra work with the mines, including the accounting and paperwork involved. He was tired of it all.

He stopped his magitek armor while he was thinking, feeling like something was watching him. As he came up onto a hill, in the distance was a ruined small town, looking like a good place to stop the armor and get a better view on whatever his paranoia had formed in his mind. Arcuris parked the vehicle inside one of the abandoned houses through one of it's side walls collapsed long ago. Ironically the damage looked like it was done from a cannon shot from one of the very machines Arcuris rode into it. He drew the shotgun from one of his back holsters and advanced through the village, slowly viewing around each corner.

Arcuris heard a rather large thud and then a rustle of debris. It was close. From his senses he judged it to be less than fifty fulms away from him. He stood still near the shadows of a higher wall, slowly moving his head and eyes about to get a glimpse on where exactly it was. He heard the heavy clacking of what sounded like metal upon the shingles of a building right next to him. He slowly peered up while raising the shotgun upon hearing snarling and heavy breathing of of a monster.

It was a Coeurl, heavily modified with magitek armor and technology. It raised it's back tentacles and gripped his claws, snarling down at Arcuris. He raised the shotgun as soon as he saw it. The gun went off twice, tearing into the beast before it leapt down at him, biting into his armor before dragging him a few yards through the debris and sand. It's claws rending into him, drawing some blood as the iron claws tore into the plate mail. Arcuris grabbed the monster with his left hand before hammering his fist into the creature's cranimum multiple times. 

The monster, dazed from the pummeling, let go of Arcuris, giving him time to draw his gunblade. With a powerful swing down, he fired off a round into it's side, blasting off one of the tentacles on it's back and leaving a huge slice in it's torso. The beast swiped relentlessly, digging deep with each strike. Arcuris retaliated by cutting into the monster before firing off more rounds, tearing massive chunks of flesh off, forcing it to withdraw from the amount of damage it was sustaining. The monster ran off, giving Arcuris time for his wounds to seal back up and recover for the next attack.

He didn't wait for anymore enemies to arrive. He rushed for the large stone building in the middle of the town while readying his assault rifle. The same Coeurl pounced at him from one of the rooftops before he entered the ruined structure. He pulled the rifle up, holding the trigger down as the rifle churned out it's destruction. The bullets smacked into the hide of the creature making loud, wet smacking noises only to explode inside violently milliseconds after, blasting it's entire front torsos to bits and leaving it's head snapping off it’s spine as it crashed into the earth beside him. 

He slammed the door behind him as he entered the structure and threw what was left of the furniture in front of the door. As he reloaded the weapon and sighed heavily as he peered around his surroundings, "I fucking hate this place."

Arcuris could hear something shift in the room when his weapon magazine hit the floor. He was not alone. Before he could react a powerful figure from the shadows almost his size and built swung out with two blades, cutting into Arcuris's arm. He fired in reaction to the attack, blasting pieces of the walls out as he aimed for the enemy. Whoever it was, they were strong and they were extremely fast. Arcuris barely pulled his gunblade free and deflected the attack aimed for his shoulder. 

He noticed that the wound was not healing. There was something in those weapons that were stopping his regneration. He remembered of the chemical that stopped his an Umbrianas's wounds when they fought last time. He deflected one more time, reaching for the serum that he kept in his side satchel. As he was about to inject it, the enemy kicked it from his hand as it tumbled into the sand away from sight. 

Arcuris finally got a good sight of the enemy. It was most certainly a Garlean as he suspected it was in all of his ornate armor. The Coeurl that attacked him were more than enough evidence with all of their magitek. However, this solidified his observations. They were sending more experiments, more magitek monstrosities to end him. 

Arcuris slammed his gunblade into the enemy's weapons, firing off the rounds into him when he could. He managed to slash and blast his way through the attacker's armor, sending blood and armor chucks to the ground. The enemy responded, swinging his blades like a whirlwind, slicing him in multiple location he was too slow to defend against. They didn't cut deep but it was death by a thousand cuts and it was working.

No matter what actions Arcuris made, the enemy was already there to deflect the blows and unlike Arcuris, his wounds were healing. He knew that this could not last. As Arcuris was thinking, reloading his gunblade quickly after knocking the enemy back, the enemy charged again. Arcuris snarled in anger as the enemy stabbed him in the side of the chest with his blade, puncturing even his dermal armor. 

The enemy grinned and spoke with virulence in his tongue, "How do the blades taste, traitor?"

Arcuris roared in pain, grabbing the enemy with one hand by the shoulder. He made a quick but extremely powerful an painful swing with his head, breaking the enemy's nose as blood shot all over both of their heads, "How does that taste, mother fucker?!" He used his magitek powers to boost his abilities to the limit. His eyes turned black and red and red electrical energy short through his body and charged his gunblade.

The enemy met his fearsome display with blade bravado. He was smart. He played defensively to keep Arcuris from overwhelming him with sheer strength. The enemy used their speed to take quick slices into him, weakening him slowly as Arcuris blasted into him with the gunblade while hacking into his weapons. With a powerful swing that nearly took the strength out of him. He destroyed one of the blades the enemy had.

The soldier took another swing, slicing deep into Arcuris's face, destroying his magitek visor and cutting deep in the left side of his face. Arcuris stumbled backwards and lost his gunblade before using his fists as a replacement, pummling the enemy with hammer handed blow while holding his wrist with his other hand. He was unrelenting, bleeding, and he was pissed.

With the last bit of power he had, he swung multiple times, busting the enemy in the face over and over with left and right hooks. Not even his regneration could keep up with the punishment he was sustaining. Arcuris bled from his mouth profusely, blood running down his face and chin, staining his armor with his own lifeforce as he kept one eye open. One final punch brought the enemy stumbling down as Arcuris followed him down to the ground, grabbing his head with both hands.

He squeezed as hard as he could, the red electrical power surging through his arms as the enemy yelled in pain. His helmet was being crushed under the power of Arcuris's hands, driving metal and optics into his eyes and skull. With one final burst of energy a loud and sickening pop burst the helmet inwards, blood and gore spurting out of open holes as the screaming stopped. 

Arcuris coughed up blood. He stumbled around, looking about for the serum as he dripped blood to the ground like some leaking magitek machine pouring out ceruleum. His vision was starting to darken as he fell to his knees. His hands sifted through the sand, trying desperately to find it before he bled out. This was not how he was going to go out. Not today.

He grabbed the serum and stabbed it into his neck forcefully as the liquid entered his veins. He fell to the ground onto his back, covered in blood. He was completely spent of energy as he stared up through the massive hole in the ceiling of the building. He blinked his eyes slowly as he cought the glittering stars in the night sky above as the quiet night embraced him, taking his mind away from the horrible carnage he just suffered.

A simple, tired phrase escaped his lips before he closed his eyes, "What a mess we made..."

[dragon-kazansky]

A rose in London - Sherlock Holmes

Not much of you in this chapter, but a lot of important information.

Chapter 17 - Tower Bridge

Irene had ran quite a way. She found herself on Tower Bridge, which was incomplete. She came to a sudden stop near the edge, neither side met in the middle yet, and that could have been a nasty fall. While she tried to find her way out, Sherlock had caught up to her, coming to a stop behind her.

"Did you take a wrong turning somewhere?" Sherlock asked, not seriously.

"We're safe now." Irene turned to face him.

"Interesting assessment. Run off." He circled around her, Irene moving around him. "I won't be chasing you anymore." They had now swapped places. "Fare thee well." Sherlock faced away from her with his hands clasped behind his back.

Irene turned to look at him.

"I don't want to run anymore. I'll tell you everything."

"I wish you would." Sherlock turned around to face her.

Blackwood jumped down and landed beside Irene, taking the cylinder from her hand and hitting the gun out her other. She tried to fight back, but he was better. She was very close to the edge, Blackwood placed his cane under her chin and held her there, threatening to push her.

Sherlock stared at him. Blackwood stared back.

Sherlock wanted to move over and help.

Blackwood sensed this and pushed her. Irene went over the edge. Blackwood wasted no time in advancing on the detective and starting a fight with him. The sword came out of the cane as Sherlock gripped it. He used the cane to deflect the blade Blackwood was swinging at him.

Sherlock used the construction site to his advantage, grabbing onto a rope net and swinging around the outside of the bridge to land on the opposite side of Blackwood. They continued to swing at each other. Sherlock managed to pin the other man against the barrier, looking down to see Irene had landed on a platform below. She was OK, it seemed. Blackwood pushed back.

Sherlock was able to grab the cylinders from Blackwood as he hit him again, but latter took them back as he shoved the detective. Sherlock skidded so far back, he was just able to catch himself as he slid over the edge. He hung on for dear life.

Blackwood recovered from his fall and began to run towards the fallen gun.

Sherlock hoisted himself up.

Blackwood turned and aimed at the other man. He shot, but Sherlock dodged it by falling to the floor. He noticed where Blackwood was standing, his foot in a loop of rope. Sherlock gave a sturdy kick the other end, weighed down by an iron beam, and let it fall off the edge. The rope began to fall down, the loop catching itself on Blackwood's leg and pulled him down with it. Sherlock grabbed the cylinder as the man slid by.

Blackwood caught onto a plank of wood, stopping him from going right over. It was taking all of his strength.

"There was never any magic." Sherlock stood over him. "Only conjuring tricks. The simplest being paying people off... like the guard who pretended to be possessed outside your cell. Your reputation and the inmates fear did the rest. Others required more elaborate preparations... like the sandstone slab that covered your tomb. You had it broken before your burial, then put back together using an adhesive. An ancient Egyptian recipe, I believe.... a mixture of egg and honey.... designed to be washed away by the rain."

The plank Blackwood had been clinging to gave way and he had to grab another, slipping even further.

"Holmes!"

"Arranging for your father to drown in his own bathtub required more modern science. Very clever of Reordan to find a paralytic that was activated by the combination of copper and water... and was therefore undetectable once the bath water was drained. That might've been a challenge for me, had he not also tested it on some unfortunate amphibians."

The second plank gave way, causing Blackwood to grab onto a third, this time falling even further over the edge. There wasn't much room left now.

"The death of Standish was a real mystery... until you used the same compound to blow up the wharf. An odourless, tasteless flammable liquid... yet it burned with an unusual pinkish hue. Did Standish mistake it for rain as he entered the temple? All it took was a spark. A simple rigged bullet in his gun. Ingenious. Like all great performers, you saved your piece de resistance for the end: A chemical weapon distilled from cyanide and refined in the bellies of swine. Had it worked your followers in Parliament would have watched unharmed as their colleagues were dying around them. They didn't know you'd given them the antidote. Instead, they would've believed it was magic... and that you'd harnessed the ultimate power. And the world would have followed, fear being the most powerful weapon of all. You'd better hope that it's nothing more than superstition... as you performed all the rituals perfectly. The devil is due a soul, I'd say."

"For God's sake, Holmes, cut me loose." Blackwood yelled.

The plank he was holding gave way, as he was pulled back Sherlock threw an axe at the rope, cutting it. Blackwood grabbed onto the very last plank as his body hung off the bridge completely. He hoisted himself up carefully.

"First, the world will see you for what you are. A fraud. Then you'll be hanged. Properly, this time."

"It's a long journey from here to the rope." Blackwood told him, his voice menacing.

A huge metal chunk fell from above, falling through the wood of the bridge. It's chain tugged at the crane that had been holding it in place, pulling it down. The impact of the crane falling through the bridge caused Blackwood to fall. He landed on the strings of chains below, the only thing stopping him from falling into the Thames.

Sherlock looked down at him.

The chains wouldn't be able to hold the weight of the crane as is hung below Blackwood. It was already beginning to give way.

Blackwood met Sherlock's eye once more before the chains came loose. Blackwood fell with them, the way he fell created a mess. The chain hung, swinging in the breeze. His body hung limp from the chain around his neck. He was dead. This time, for real.

Sherlock turned around after looking at the aftermath of Blackwood's demise. He made his way over to where Irene was laying unconscious. He sat down by her head and lifted her arm into his lap.

"I've never woken up in handcuffs before." She said.

"I have." Sherlock told her, referring to when he met Irene in her hotel room. Irene sat up beside him. "Naked."

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Storm's coming." Irene noted.

"Well, we've still got a moment."

"Moriarty."

"What?"

"That's his name. And he is a professor. Everyone has a weak spot... and he found mine." Irene looked out at the view.

"Where was it, precisely?" Sherlock looked at her.

Irene turned to look at him, tears welling in her eyes as she smiled at him sadly.

Sherlock understood. He turned away from her.

"Please don't underestimate him." Irene said.

"Mm."

"He's just as brilliant as you are... and infinitely more devious."

"We'll see about that."

Sherlock and Irene were sitting so close together. She could almost kiss him. Sherlock, however, wasn't interested. He dropped the key to her handcuffs down her shirt and pulled the necklace she wore, which she had stolen, off her neck.

Sherlock stood up.

"Take care of her, Sherlock." Irene called out. "She's special."

Sherlock knelt beside her for a brief moment. "Very."

He got up and walked away, leaving Irene sitting on her own.

Having no idea where Sherlock and Irene had gone, the only thing you and John could do was get yourselves out of there. Sherlock would find you somewhere along the line. John took you back to the boat where you would be taken back to the flat. Sherlock would know to go there, John said.

You were waiting quite a long time for Sherlock, but when you heard the door open downstairs you rushed down. You had no idea what had happened after he left you and John in the tunnel.

While you waited you had changed into one of your dresses, had finished the tea Mrs. Hudson had brought you, and let all your worries out onto John.

When you reached the bottom of the staircase you felt like you could cry. Sherlock was standing there looking at you. You didn't say anything as you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close.

"I was so worried." You cried into his ear.

Sherlock closed his eyes and held you tightly against him.

"I love you." He whispered into your ear.

You pulled away and looked at him, slowly reaching up to cup his cheeks in your hands. You smiled at him.

"I love you too." You whispered back, kissing him instantly. Sherlock was happy to return the gesture, holding you closely to his body.

His case was solved and he had you here in his arms. Sherlock felt complete.

Tags:

@awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum  @sigynbandraoi-blog  @procrastinatingmurder @madshelily @phantomofhogwarts @photography-to-all

[itsshortfurball20]

Percy Jackson, The Avenger

Summary: Percy has an encounter with Nick Fury. A year later, he’s being called on to help protect the world… again. He’s not alone in this Avengers Initiative. A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; a super soldier; a green scientist; a Norse god; and two secret agents. What could go wrong?

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

This chapter has 5,518 words

9 – Not all Heroes Wear Capes (Just tight Spandex)

Percy ran through the road, weaving in and out of abandoned cars that had been overturned and were on fire. A loud siren rang through the city. Chitauri flew overhead, taking aim at shop windows and people who ran past the demigod, screaming.

He, Cap, Natasha, and Clint ran up Park Avenue, where STARK Tower stood high behind Grand Central Terminal. It was impressive, Percy admitted, with its sleek design and clean energy plan, but he would never admit that to the billionaire, whose ego already seemed inflated enough if the huge lettering of STARK plastered on the building was any indication.

A deep, primal roar came from the portal, echoing off the buildings. The small group skidded to a stop. Percy craned his neck so that he was looking right above him, where the portal hung over their heads. He brought a hand up to his face trying to block the sun. Inside the blackness of the portal, it was hard to make out much, but the demigod could’ve sworn he saw something massive move.

Then it emerged.

The son of Poseidon’s jaw slacked, watching as the humongous alien-whale hybrid flew down from out of the portal. It let out an ear-piercing screech as it made its way down towards the city. Percy couldn’t help but feel way out of his element, standing in the middle of New York City with an army of aliens flying around him, with nothing to fight them with other than a sword and shield.

The space-whale flew down over the Terminal, flying so low that it smashed the statue of Mercury into pieces. Percy got a flashback from the last time he had fought a battle in the city, where Annabeth and he had used the statues to help aid them.

There’s an idea, Percy thought. He wondered if the statues would still work, or if it was a one-use thing. But, if he could get them to activate, then the statues could help get the civilians to safety.

He was brought out of his thoughts when the space-whale started dispensing Chitauri who latched onto the sides of the buildings. Percy figured that the space-whale has to be carrying over a hundred Chitauri. If too many of those came through the portal, then they’d have a very big problem.

The Chitauri on the buildings started shooting. People below screamed as they ran for cover from the hailstorm of energy.

“Stark, are you seeing this?” Cap asked.

“I'm seeing, still working on believing.” Tony’s voice came through. “Where's Banner? Has he shown up yet?”

Cap frowned as he surveyed the area around them. “Banner?”

“Just keep me posted,” Tony asked before leaving.

Just then, Percy caught sight of Loki. He was flying on one of the alien scooters with a group behind him, setting off a chain of explosions as they flew down the street. Percy watched as one car narrowly missed a woman as she ran as fast as she could to escape the attack.

“Those people need assistance down there,” Cap informed. Next to him, Natasha pulled out both of her guns and started firing, picking off Chitauri like ducks at a shooting booth.

“We got this.” She told Cap. “It's good. Go!”

Steve turned to Clint. “You think you can hold them off?”

“Captain.” Clint pulled a trigger on his bow, and Percy watched as an arrow was mechanically chosen before the archer loaded it in his bow. “It would be my genuine pleasure.” He then proceeded to shoot the arrow into a Chitauri’s head, exploding the alien.

Cap took the moment to gain a head start, running away from them and to the people in danger. Percy also took off, running in the opposite direction from Cap, towards a motorcycle that had been abandoned from the fighting. Quickly making sure it worked, he sped off, looking for any close statue that hadn’t been smashed to pieces already.

He zoomed between cars, picking up speed as the seconds passed. Careening onto Madison Avenue, the demigod kept his eyes open, scanning for a statue he could awaken. Nearing the intersection of thirty-seventh street, his eyes caught sight of a bronze sculpture.

Percy pulled over, jumping off the bike and running to the undamaged statue. The bronze man was sitting on a park bench with a chessboard lying next to him. There was also a simple cane he held in his left hand. Percy could remember seeing the statue before, but never really paying close attention to it.

Suddenly he realized he had no clue what to look for. He started looking around the bench that the person was sitting on, trying to look for anything that might activate it. He checked on the chess board, the man’s body, and the bench. Finally, the demigod spotted it on the side of the cane; the Ancient Greek Delta.

Daedalus’ symbol.

Percy pressed his finger to the delta symbol. It softly glowed blue. He took a step back, trying to remember how Annabeth had activated the first statue. “Uh, hey there… Jan.”

The statue didn’t respond. Jan’s stone face looked unimpressed with Percy. The demigod tried again. “Err, command sequence: Daedalus Twenty-three. Protect people and kill aliens. Begin Activation.”

Jan stood up, abandoning his game of chess and ran off. Percy hoped that he would wake other the statues. He started heading back to the motorcycle when he heard a kid scream.

Percy took off running in the direction of the scream. Up ahead, he saw a group of three Chitauri surrounding a young boy and his mother. Rage flooded Percy. Reaching into his pocket, he drew Riptide. The bronze sword grew to its full three feet.

“Hey, ETs!” Percy shouted, drawing the Chitauri’s attention. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

The Chitauri’s turned around to face him fully, forgetting about the son and mother. They slowly started walking away from the family, advancing towards Percy. The son of Poseidon gripped his blade tighter and readied himself to fight.

With one swipe, his sword sliced through the Chitauri, its body collapsing. The other two aliens held up their weapons. Percy moved to stand in front of the mother and boy, pushing them back.

“Go hide,” Percy instructed. “Don’t move until I come back.”

The two ran into the building behind them, leaving Percy alone with the aliens. One of the Chitauri lunged at Percy. The son of Poseidon grabbed the shaft of the alien’s weapon and pushed it down, effectively knocking it out of the Chitauri’s grasp. Percy then swung his sword.

The blade cut through the alien like it was butter. Percy grimaced at the black blood that clung to his sword. He realized how lucky demigods were, not having to clean up or hide the bodies of the monsters they killed.

The other Chitauri roared at Percy, apparently angry at the demigod for cutting his friend in half. Percy lunged forward. The Chitauri deflected his swing and charged up its gun. Percy swiftly dodged the blast and the bolt hit the building.

The bolt shook the building, causing chunks of concrete fall from above. Percy lifted his shield to protect him from the falling stones. They clanged against the metal, sending jolts up Percy’s arm every time one hit the shield. When the small hailstorm finished, Percy found the Chitauri hoisting its blaster, getting ready to fire.

Percy threw his sword. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest move, considering how terrible Percy’s aim was (Chiron still wouldn’t come near him when the demigod had a bow in his hand). But he wasn’t sure if his shield would’ve been able to take the damage.

True enough, Riptide sailed past the Chitauri. However, it did grab the alien’s attention enough to take his eyes off Percy for a couple seconds.

And that was all he needed.

The demigod ran at the Chitauri. He managed to get a hold on the gun and ripped it away from the alien. Now weaponless, the alien swung its arm to punch Percy.

The Chitauri’s fist connected with the side of Percy’s helmet. Percy stumbled backward. There was a faint ringing in his ear as he quickly backed away from the alien.

His foot hit something. Looking down, he saw the Chitauri’s gun which he had thrown. Percy swiftly bent down and grabbed it. There wasn’t a trigger, like a normal gun, but rather a series of four buttons.

“Oh, come on,” Percy muttered as he tried to figure out how to shoot the gun. Taking a quick glance at the Chitauri, he saw it walking closer, only a couple feet away. Percy figured, screw it, and pressed all four buttons.

A blue bolt shot out the other end and hit the Chitauri. The alien exploded, going up in a small burst of fire. Percy could feel the heat from the blast. He turned away from the dead aliens and dropped the gun, running into the building.

His footsteps echoed on the marble floor. He looked around for any sign of where the mother and son might’ve run off to hide. “It’s all right now,” he called out. “They’re gone. You can come out.”

There was a small shuffle from one of the back rooms. Small eyes stared at him. Percy gave the boy a small wave, trying to ease the boy’s fright. The mom appeared, grabbing the little boy’s hand and pulling him out.

“Thank you!” The mom cried. “Thank you so, so much!”

Percy stiffened slightly when the woman suddenly brought him in for a hug, but relaxed when he heard her sobs. His eyes drifted down to the boy, who was still staring at him.

A loud bang from outside the bank had Percy on alert. He gently pried the crying woman away from him. His hand wandered down to his pocket, where he drew out his pen, uncapping the sword. “I’ll get you guys out of here, just follow me.”

Percy peered out the door, making sure the coast was clear, before beckoning for the family to follow. He started to lead them down thirty-seventh. The demigod made sure to keep his eyes alert, looking for any sign of a Chitauri.

Half-way down the block, Percy felt something tug on the back of his shirt. He quickly whirled around, raising his sword and preparing to fight, when he realized that it had been the little boy, who was now staring wide-eyed at Percy.

Percy hastily lowered his sword. The kid’s eyes trailed after the sword, a gleam in his eyes that reminded the son of Poseidon of a ten-year-old Nico di Angelo. “Woah,” the kid muttered, totally oblivious to the fact that Percy had almost impaled him (not that it would’ve done anything, Riptide being harmless to mortals). “That’s awesome! What’s it called? Is it really sharp? Can I touch it?”

A small grin appeared on Percy’s face. He made sure that there were no Chitauri around before he crouched down to the boy’s height. The demigod held the sword to where the boy could get a good look at it. “It’s called Riptide,” Percy told the kid. “like the current that drags you out to sea.”

“That’s so cool!”

“I think so too,” Percy pushed himself up. “Let’s get you guys out of here.” The son of Poseidon led them down the rest of the block. “Keep going down until you can get some help. You should be safe as the fight hasn’t spread over there yet.”

Percy was about to take off when the small boy latched onto his legs, giving him a hug. “Thanks,” he muttered. The son of Poseidon smiled.

“No problem, buddy. Listen to your mother, stay safe.” Percy watched as the kid detached from his legs and grabbed his mom’s hand, making their way away from the fight.

Percy headed back towards where he left the bike. He didn’t run into any Chitauri, but he could hear them pass overhead on their fancy flying chariots. There was another noise overhead, but it was different from the Chitauri. Looking up, Percy managed to see a huge burst of lighting followed by the blond Norse god as he flew down.

Percy hopped back on the bike. He revved the motorcycle and took off, heading back to the group. The sounds of explosions and screaming got louder as he drove into the heart of the battle.

Up ahead there was a lone Chitauri, shooting at a group of people. Percy picked up speed, turning his bike so he was heading straight towards the alien. The Chitauri noticed him coming and didn’t have any time to react before Percy rammed the motorcycle into the alien.

Percy found himself face-to-face with the Chitauri who was now hitching a ride on the front of the motorcycle. The alien growled and swung its arm around to hit Percy. He quickly raised his shield to block the blow. The Chitauri growled, its ugly and mangled face less than a foot away from Percy’s own.

Unable to see around the Chitauri, Percy tried his best to navigate the street, pushing the bike to go faster. The Chitauri tried climbing onto of the bike, standing above Percy on the front fender. Through the Chitauri's legs, Percy could just see the road ahead of him and further on, the rest of the team.

Just as the alien raised his gun, Percy gripped the brakes. The bike came to a sudden stop and the Chitauri flew forward, skidding on the road and coming to a stop near the god of thunder’s feet. “Thor!” Percy yelled, catching the god’s attention. He pointed down at the alien at his feet. With a simple nod, Thor raised his hammer and brought it down swiftly on the alien.

Stepping off the motorcycle, Percy walked up to the group, stepping into their half-formed circle. “What’s going on?”

“The powers surrounding the cube is impenetrable,” Thor informed the group.

“Thor is right,” Tony spoke through the comms. “We gotta deal with these guys.”

Natasha looked over the destruction that Loki had caused and frowned. “How do we do this?”

“As a team,” Cap answered.

“I have unfinished business with Loki,” Thor announced.

“Yeah, get in line,” Clint argued with Thor. Percy felt the same, and he knew that just about every New Yorker would be feeling the same after this fight. But he couldn’t worry about that now.

“We need to plan,” Percy spoke up. “Our priority is getting the people to safety. The fight is between us and Loki. They didn’t sign up for this.” The demigod turned to Cap. “Anything you’d like to add?”

Steve nodded. “Loki's gonna keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him, these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us...”

He trailed off as the sound of an old motor got louder. Percy turned around to find Banner getting off of a small motorbike. The doctor looked around nervously, taking in the sight of the crumbling city. “So, this all seems horrible.”

Natasha didn’t even blink. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” she told him. “We could use a little worse.”

“Stark?” Cap called. “We got him.”

“Banner?”

“Just like you said.”

“Then tell him to suit up,” Tony ordered. “I’m bringing the party to you.”

The next second, Percy spotted Tony in his suit flying around the corner of a building. Following him was the big space-whale, its tail knocking into the corner of the building and sending a large cloud of dust and debris down onto the street below.

Percy reaches into his pocket and gripped Riptide. He saw out of the corners of his eyes the others readying their weapons, trying to prepare themselves to fight the huge monster.

“I… I don’t see how that’s a party…” the son of Poseidon heard Natasha comment softly as Tony flew closer.

Tony landed in front of them. The space-whale started to fly lower to meet them head-on, barreling down the street like a freight train. Percy gripped his sword even tighter, trying to find any weak spots in the whale’s armor.

He watched as Banner walked past him, heading to meet the whale. “Dr. Banner,” Cap called after him. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Banner gave them a small smile. “That’s my secret, Captain. I’m always angry.”

The doctor started swelling and turning green just as the space-whale seemed to be on top of them. Hulk punched the whale right in the nose, bringing the gigantic monster to a halt. Percy watched with fascinated horror as the creature started to flip over, its large and heavy body about to flatten them to pancakes.

Tony flew up, raising his arm. He shot a small missile out, aiming at the space-whale’s spine. Percy grabbed Clint, who had been standing next to him, and pulled him down in a crouch as he lifted his shield above their heads. He felt the heat from the explosion and a couple small dings from various parts of the space-whale’s body armor hitting his shield.

From all sides, the team could hear the screams of the Chitauri echoing off the buildings as they roared in anger. Soon enough, the Hulk roared back, his cry far louder than those of the Chitauri. But maybe that was due to proximity, Percy thought.

They closed ranks. Clint stood on his right, drawing an arrow and loading it into his bow. Thor was on his left, gripping Mjölnir tightly. Percy was comforted by the feeling of being in a team again. He knew that, no matter how much they argued, they’d have his back.

There were a few seconds where everything seemed to still. The city became quiet and the only sounds that Percy could hear were his own heartbeat and the crackling of nearby fires. Percy tensed, feeling that something else was coming.

The next second, hundreds of Chitauri started coming out of the portal, accompanied by a few space-whales. Percy watched as they flew out of the portal and straight to the streets, shooting anything that moved.

“Guys,” Natasha said, worry lacing her voice as she pointed out the growing number of aliens.

“Call it, Cap.”

“Alright, listen up,” Cap ordered. “Until we can close that portal up there, we’re gonna use containment. Barton, I want you on the roof, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays.”

“Tony can work on the perimeter,” Percy offered. “We don’t want anything getting more than three blocks out. If we have him flying around, he can make sure that we keep the battle in one area.”

Steve looked over at Tony, before he nodded in agreement. “Percy’s right. Tony, if you see anything, I want you to turn it back or turn it to ash.”

Clint looked over at Tony. “Wanna give me a lift?”

“Right,” Tony walked over to Clint, grabbing the back of the archer’s suit. “Better clench up, Legolas.” Tony flew away, taking Clint with him.

Steve turned his attention to the Norse god. “Thor, you've gotta try and bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You've got the lightning. Light the bastards up.” Thor nodded and took off.

“We need people down here,” Percy commented to himself. He turned to Cap, waiting for him to give the next order. Instead, Steve gestured to the demigod, asking him to continue. “Steve, Natasha, we’re on ground duty. Let’s try and keep the fight in this area.”

Natasha and Steve nodded. Percy wondered what else was missing when he remembered Hulk. “Oh,” He turned back to the large green doctor. “And Hulk… smash.”

Hulk gave him a grin before jumping away, latching onto the nearest building. He threw several Chitauri off as he ran up the building before jumping to another building and doing the same thing.

Percy watched him before turning his attention back to the ground. Together, the group ran down the street towards where they could see a large group of Chitauri. Steve jogged up next to him. “Where’d you learn to strategize like that?” The captain asked the demigod.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Captain. I’ve fought in wars before.” Percy told him, before running straight at the nearest Chitauri, slicing it before it even had a chance to react to the son of Poseidon. “At this point, it’s almost like a… hobby.”

Steve threw his shield at another Chitauri before responding, “Well then I think we need to find you a new hobby soon or you’re going to be really bored for the rest of your life.”

“Boys, maybe less talking and more killing,” Natasha yelled as she flipped over a Chitauri and used it as a shield as another alien shot it, killing its own. Percy nodded and reached out with his senses. He pulled some water from a nearby building with plumbing and used the water to trip up the Chitauri before plunging Riptide into them.

They fought for a while, the stream of Chitauri never slowing. Percy could feel a small strain as he cut down Chitauri after Chitauri. It seemed pointless. As soon as he killed one, there was always another to take its place, with several more behind it.

To his right, he noticed Natasha struggling with a Chitauri. With a flick of his hand, a trail of water wrapped around the alien’s waist, pulling it back from Natasha. The agent took the opportunity to grab the alien’s rifle and use it against the Chitauri. She gave a small nod of thanks towards Percy.

“Guys,” Natasha spoke up. “None of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don’t close that portal.”

“Our biggest guns couldn’t touch it,” Steve told her, walking up to the two of them.

Percy frowned as he stared upwards at the portal. “It’s not about guns,” the demigod muttered.

Natasha eyed the alien scooters. Percy followed her eyes and understood what she was going to do. “Need a hand?”

The agent nodded. Steve backed up, readying his shield. “Are you sure about this?” He asked her.

Natasha nodded, though she didn’t look fully convinced. “Yeah. It’s gonna be fun.” She ran forward, jumping onto a car and using it to springboard onto Steve’s shield. Steve sent her flying high into the air, just in time for her to grab one of the Chitauri’s passing chariots.

Percy watched her fly away until he heard the sound of Chitauri grumbling behind him. The demigod smirked under his helmet. He looked over at Cap and, With a nod, they both lunged into battle.

\~*~/

When the invasion started, it had become apparent to Annabeth that, while large in number, the Chitauri weren’t much for planning. From what she could gather, their only strategy was to shoot anything. Annabeth knew from experience that the monsters with no plan were just as dangerous as the ones with. At least if they had plans, you could calculate what their next step might be. With the Chitauri, there was no logic.

Ever since the invasion had begun, Annabeth had been running around, aiding people to safety and killing the occasional Chitauri. That was how she ended up in the bank, her Yankee’s hat on, sneaking up the stairs. A group of Chitauri had managed to find the bank that people had been hiding in from the battle. Annabeth had been dropping off an elderly couple when the aliens had barged in, blocking the doors.

She reached the top. Quietly, she unsheathed her drakon-bone sword. The daughter of Athena could see the three Chitauri: two of them aiming their alien-energy rifles (she’d definitely have to grab one for later, maybe let the Athena cabin dissect it), and the third one messing with what appeared to be a bomb.

Schist. She needed to move quickly before the aliens blew up the place. Moving quickly, she got halfway across the room when she saw someone jump in through the window. She paused when the man stood up and threw their shield at the Chitauri holding the bomb, revealing himself to be Captain America.

The other two Chitauri turned around. Annabeth saw them raising their guns to shoot the Captain. She jumped in, her sword plunging into the chest of the first one. The one next to it turned to its dead friend. Annabeth turned her sword on that one. Unable to stop the invisible attack, the Chitauri dropped dead next to its friend.

Annabeth turned around to face the Captain, only to find that the third Chitauri had snuck up behind him and jumped him. At her foot, the bomb beeped, and Annabeth smiled as a plan formed in her mind. She sheathed her sword and scooped up the bomb, taking her Yankee cap off. “Hey!” She shouted, drawing the attention of both the Chitauri and the Captain. The bomb started beeping faster in her hand as the two regarded the woman in front of them.

“Catch.”

Annabeth threw the bomb at the alien. The alien let go of Captain America to hurriedly catch the bomb. Cap scrambled away from the Chitauri, backing up closer to the window. Annabeth was also moving away from the space-invader. Her back bumped against the rail. Unable to go any farther without jumping, she watched as the Chitauri reared its arm back to throw the bomb at Captain America.

She knew what was about to happen before it happened. Quickly, she jumped over the rail. Below her, the people parted, and she landed on the ground. “Get down!” Annabeth yelled. The crowd listened and crouched down, hands covering their heads just as the bomb exploded upstairs.

A large blast of blue energy spread across the ceiling. Little bits of dust rained down on the crowd as the room shook slightly. Annabeth prayed that the building didn’t come down on top of them.

After a couple seconds, the energy from the blast died down, and the building stopped shaking. People slowly started looking up. Annabeth stood up, surveying the room for any structural damage. None of the pillars looked too damaged, and as most of the blast had been upstairs, not much of the downstairs had been affected. But it was better not to risk it by staying in here for much longer.

“We need to move out of here!” Annabeth shouted, encouraging people to start moving towards the door. On the other side of the banks’ doors, police and firefighters swarmed up to meet them. There was an ambulance waiting with paramedics to take some of the more injured people up to a hospital far from the fighting.

Annabeth looked around for any sign of the Captain. She had no idea if he had made it out of the blast. Looking to her left, she saw the Captain gingerly picking himself off of a car. He seemed fine from afar, just dazed.

Satisfied, Annabeth stuck her Yankee’s cap back on and disappeared, off to lead more people away from the invasion.

\~*~/

Percy could feel the adrenaline that had fueled him earlier fading away. The fighting had picked up as more and more Chitauri came through the portal. Over the course of the battle, he had gathered a collection of scrapes and cuts that had begun to sting. There was also a but on his leg from where a blast had grazed him. He could feel the bag of ambrosia that he had stuffed in his pocket, saving it in case of emergency.

Thor fought next to him. He swung Mjölnir around, knocking aliens aside like they were dolls. But Percy could see that Thor was getting tired too. The god’s swings were becoming slower as more and more Chitauri surrounded them.

Distracted and tired, Percy didn’t notice one of the alien’s sneaking up behind him until he heard the sound of Cap’s shield bouncing off the Chitauri’s chest. Percy turned around, seeing Cap sling his shield back onto his arm.

“Thanks,” Percy told him. Cap nodded, waving him off. They hopped back into the fight. At one point, Percy remembered Thor flipping a car over, crushing a few Chitauri that Percy had used water to freeze them in place.

The son of Poseidon was about to launch another attack when Natasha yelled through the comms, “I can close it! Can anybody hear me? I can shut the portal down!”

Percy grinned and jumped in victory, only to almost be impaled by a Chitauri’s weapon. The demigod waved his hand a burst of water flew up and landed on the Chitauri’s face before freezing. “Then close it,” Percy told Natasha.

“No, wait!” Stark shouted through the comm.

“Stark, these things are still coming!” Steve argued.

“I got a nuke coming in, it’s gonna blow in less than a minute.” Percy shared a concerned look with Steve. A nuke? They’re sending a nuke? Thor, who had no idea what a nuke was, could only guess that it was bad news from his teammates' faces. Percy turned back in just as Stark said, “And I know just where to put it.”

The son of Poseidon could hear the sound of the jet repulsors on Tony’s suit as he appeared, the nuke right above him. Tony flew upward, pushing the nuke upwards towards the portal.  

“Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?” Steve asked, fear and concern lacing his voice.

Tony didn’t respond. Percy watched as the man flew closer to the portal, picking up speed as he went. Closer… and closer… and gone.

Percy waited with bated breath for Tony to reappear. He didn’t look away. Not even when the Chitauri collapsed around him. “Come on,” Percy muttered. The demigod could see the cloud from the explosion growing closer to the portal.

“Close it,” Steve ordered, having also seen the explosion.

Percy turned to the man. “Wait!” He tried to tell Natasha, but he could already see the beam keeping the portal open disappearing, Natasha having already done whatever needed to be done to shut it down. In his head, the son of Poseidon cursed his fatal flaw. Logically, he knew that it was better to lose one man’s life than to risk thousands. But it didn’t stop him from staring up at the portal in hope.

Just as the portal was about to close for good, a small dark figure came out.

Tony.

Percy released a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding in. He could feel Steve’s and Thor’s relief as well, their bodies relaxing, even Steve’s disbelieving “Son of a gun,” as they watched their friend make it out alive. Tony was alive.

And he wasn’t slowing.

Percy’s smile faded as he realized that Tony wasn’t flying back down, but rather falling. Next to him, Thor started whirling Mjölnir, preparing to fly up and grab Tony when Hulk appeared, grabbing Tony. The Hulk leaped from building to building, slowing making his way down to the street.

Steve, Thor, and Percy ran to greet the two. They surrounded Tony, who Hulk had set on the ground, where he laid unmoving. Thor ripped off the front part of the mask, revealing an unbreathing Tony. Percy rocked back on his heels, forcing himself to take a deep breath as Steve leaned his head down by Tony’s chest. Unable to hear anything, Steve leaned back.

They were silent. The entire city was silent. Percy only remembered the city being this quiet when Morpheus had placed his charm during the - War. It had been unnaturally quiet then, like it was now. Percy hated the silence. He wished that there was something, some sort of noise—

Just then, the Hulk roared. Tony shot up, breathing harshly from Hulk’s angry roar. “What the hell?” Tony asked. “What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me.”

Steve let out a small smile. “We won.”

Percy couldn’t help but let out a huge grin. “Good job, man.” He patted Tony’s arm. “You did it.”

“Alright. Hey, alright. Good job, guys. Let’s just not come in tomorrow. Let’s just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma?” Tony rambled. “There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it.”

“We’re not finished yet,” Thor told them. Percy noticed he was staring straight up at STARK tower. Oh yeah. Loki.

“We better go get him before he disappears,” Percy warned the team.

Below him, Tony heaved out a heavy sigh. “And then shawarma after.”

\~*~/

Percy stood in the penthouse level of STARK tower, sword in hand. He stared at the Norse god, Loki, who looked a little worse for wear after his run-in with the Hulk. Loki slowly crawled up the steps. He paused, sensing that someone was behind him.

The Avengers stood behind him. He came face-to-face with the seven heroes, all staring at him with hatred and anger.

Loki spoke softly. “If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink.”

10

[overwatchworks]

Love and Rage:

Chapter 3

"Goddamn." Jesse coughed, clutching his stomach but still grinning.

"You sneaky bastard. You’re pretty damn strong there, sugar, might wanna take it a bit easier on lil' ole me."

"You saying you can't take it?"

"I'm just sayin' be careful. I'd like to keep my ribs intact, thank you very much."

The next night seemed to come slowly for Genji. Perhaps it was because he was looking forward to something for once, or perhaps it was just another slow day. Genji wandered into the practice rooms, dark and devoid of anyone except Jesse, just like last night. Jesse was just setting up a shooting range, a half smoked cigarette hanging from his lips, and he tilted his head in Genji's direction when he heard him walk in.

"Fancy meetin' you here, sugar." Jesse quipped with a grin, tipping his hat in an over exaggerated gesture. 

Jesse couldn't see it, but there was the edge of a smile tugging at Genji's lips under the faceplate and a little dusting of pink on his cheeks. He decided not to respond, instead taking his place in a larger range next to the cowboy, guilt tugging at him now.

"I was actually thinking we could do some sparring together. The doctor told me I should work on fine motor skills..." Genji trailed off, staring down at his clenched right hand, not remembering doing such an action.

"Oh, well alrighty then. You wanna just do hand to hand, or...?"

"You can use your weapon. I shall be using mine. Wouldn't want to give me an unfair advantage, would you?" Genji hummed, turning and striding to the center of the practice range.

"Well I'll be damned, he got sassy on me..." Genji heard Jesse mutter before he spoke up again. 

"Okay, well, you say when to start."

Genji pulled out his katana, liking the sound of the metal sliding out of its sheathe, a dangerous weapon being unleashed. He turned to Jesse, watching him pull out his revolver and flashing him a grin, turning hesitant towards the end.

"Mkay, so...Um, we haven't exactly practiced like this before...What do ya want me to do?"

Genji shrugged, sliding into a familiar defensive stance.

"Just shoot at me like you would a bot. You aren't the only one with special training, and I think I may surprise you."

Jesse raised a brow, then settled into his own stance, bringing the revolver up and moving his finger over the trigger.

"Now, you might be fast Genji, but you ain't faster than a bullet."

Genji smiled thinly under the faceplate, eyes narrowing in concentration.

"Why don't we find out?"

Genji suddenly launched himself at Jesse, seeing the cowboy's eyes widen and dance with excitement. Jesse easily moved out of the way, rolling past Genji and getting behind him, shooting twice. Genji flipped around just as fast, twisting his body away from the bullets' path and driving back towards Jesse, katana now held offensively in his grip. 

Jesse shot again twice more, this time too quick for Genji to evade them, and his left hand whipped out his wakizashi, deflecting both bullets in an instant. Jesse blinked, then a huge grin spread across his face.

"Fucking awesome."

"I know." Genji said, then he was moving in towards Jesse again, slicing the space he had just been in a moment ago. 

Jesse was faster than Genji had thought he would be, definitely more agile that he gave him credit for, but in Genji's defense, they had never sparred like this before. He was back on Jesse in an instant, swiping in tight arcs, each one missing him by a hairsbreadth. 

How was he this fast? Or perhaps Genji had just gotten slow, sloppy. Perhaps he just wasn't as good without Egg anymore. Genji grit his teeth, brows furrowing as he spun, slamming his foot into Jesse's stomach and shoving him back a few paces.

"Goddamn." Jesse coughed, clutching his stomach but still grinning. 

"You sneaky bastard. You’re pretty damn strong there, sugar, might wanna take it a bit easier on lil' ole me."

"You saying you can't take it?"

"I'm just sayin' be careful. I'd like to keep my ribs intact, thank you very much."

Genji huffed, eyes drawing back to the revolver held comfortably in Jesse's grip, raising once more as the cowboy caught his breath again. All it would take was a slip of Genji's foot, maybe a tad too much confidence in his deflection abilities. Genji ran at Jesse, spinning and slashing down in a quick, precise stroke, Jesse slipping out of the way just in time. 

He rolled out of range of Genji's next strike, breathing harder now, and he shot again, three times. Genji deflected the first two and stepped out of the way of the last one, spinning his katana leisurely in his hand.

"Is that all you've got? I was hoping for a challenge. It almost seems as if you are going easy on me." Genji hummed cheekily, and Jesse shrugged.

"Well, I mean, if you’re sure you want to get serious."

Genji sunk down lower, holding his blade in a two handed grip, eyes hardening in determination.

"Come on."

Jesse smiled a bit, then he was moving fast, almost faster than Genji could keep up with. He just barely managed to deflect three bullets that came his way in quick succession, backing up in surprise, and then Jesse was no longer in front of him but moving in behind him, sweeping his legs out from under him. 

Genji fell to the ground with a thud, rolling to avoid two bullets that whizzed past his ear, instead imbedding into the ground by his head. He flipped backwards and onto his feet once more, crouched now with his sword held behind him, wakizashi out in front and deflecting as Jesse fanned the hammer on him. 

That made Jesse move out of the way as the bullets came flying back at him, rolling to the side and Genji took his chance, springing up and running at the cowboy. Surely he would have to take a moment to reload, he had used up his entire round. But as Jesse stood, he was shooting again, forcing Genji to halt his attack and go back on the defense. 

Genji was watching the revolver, each bullet hitting the blade of his wakizashi with a satisfying ting before Jesse had to reload, this time pausing for a moment. Genji spun, smacking the hilt of his blade into Jesse's shoulder and kicking his legs out at the same time, about to drive the blade down before Jesse whipped the barrel of his revolver into Genji's wrist. 

Genji's aim was thrown, the blade hitting the metal flooring next to Jesse's ear instead, and Jesse scrambled back to his feet, breathing heavily while Genji recovered from the blow. Jesse shot twice more, and Genji saw his chance, stepping to the side just a little too far, setting his foot just barely out of place, eyes on the revolver the whole time. 

The force from the first bullet caused him to slip back, stumbling slightly from his bad form and losing his sure grip on the wakizashi. He saw Jesse's eyes widen in shock just before the second bullet slammed against the metal plating on his temple, vision going black before Jesse had even finished shouting his name.

~*~*~*~

Jesse watched in horror as Genji's body crumpled to the ground, katana and wakizashi falling from limp hands and clattering down next to him.

"Genji! No no, dammit!" Jesse shouted, slamming his knees into the floor in his haste to get to Genji's side. 

He rolled Genji's body over, tilting his head to the side to inspect where the bullet had hit him, a bit of blood splattering the floor by his head. The ninja's eyes were closed, body limp and head lolling in Jesse's gentle grip, and he couldn't tell if Genji was breathing, the faceplate blocking Jesse's only way of knowing. He tried to look for a rise and fall of his chest, but there was too much hard metal for him to really be able to tell anything. 

The metal on the side of Genji's head was dented, a chunk of it missing entirely, exposing some tiny wires, circuitry, and a smear of blood sticking to some of Genji's hair. Jesse scooped the ninja up, weapons forgotten in his haste, and he ran as fast as he could towards the med bay, trying not to jostle Genji too much. He opened the door with his hips, walking in backwards and swinging around carefully.

"Doc! Hey, Doc! Doctor Ziegler! Angela!" Jesse yelled, searching desperately for her and keeping Genji clutched close. 

The doctor came rushing out of her office, already dressed and ready for the day despite the time of night. Perhaps she hadn't even changed from the previous day.

"What happened?! Is that...?"

"I should have known! I should have seen it comin', he was focused on the fuckin' gun the whole time! Dammit!"

Angela's eyes widened and she went straight for an examination table, motioning for Jesse to set Genji down on it. Jesse did so, gently as he could.

"You shot him?!"

"No I didn't fuckin' shoot him! We were trainin' an' he fuckin' threw his footin' off so the bullet would catch him!"

Angela glared at Genji before hooking the wires on the back of his head to the machinery behind him, the screens on them immediately lighting up and showing numbers and symbols Jesse couldn't make heads nor tails of. The doctor then examined the wound, taking extra care of avoiding the sensitive wires sticking out of the torn metal around it.

"McCree, I'll need some time to work alone. He's still alive, if that's what you're worried about."

Jesse sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, breathing out slowly, controlled.

"Alright. Thanks doc."

The doctor didn't bother with a response, already too absorbed in her work to do anything other than wave him away. Jesse walked out of the medical ward, barely containing a scream of rage and heading back to the training room to clean up. 

He picked up Peacekeeper and holstered her, grabbing Genji's katana and wakizashi before heading back to his room. Once inside, Jesse set the weapons in a corner to give back later, then slammed the side of his fist into the wall, the blow resonating through the room.

"God fucking dammit, Genji!"

---

Despite how livid Jesse was, he was still the first one to see Genji when he woke up a few days later. The bullet had hit his temple and knocked him unconscious, the metal plating around his face what stopped the blow from going straight through his head.

"Enhanced lightweight titanium and carbon fiber alloy. It's going to take more than your bullet to get through that, but he was being ridiculous. It took a while to fix that back up! I don't know why he would try to throw away the second chance he was given like that, trying to destroy all my hard work! It's a miracle he's alive in the first place, it was stupid of him to try and die again like that!" The doctor had fumed when Jesse came into the med bay. 

He had opted to stay silent, understanding Genji a little better than she did, but still too angry to dismiss what the ninja had done entirely.

"Can I go see him now?" Jesse asked instead, and Dr. Ziegler waved her hand, storming back to her office and still grumbling about the incident. 

Jesse took that as a yes, taking a moment to calm himself before walking in to the room Genji was recovering in. The ninja was still hooked up to the machines, but he sat up when Jesse came over.

"Jesse, I figured you would come in but--"

Jesse cut him off by punching his left shoulder hard, the only part of Genji he wouldn't break his knuckles on, and Genji's body rocked to the side.

"Ow--!"

"What the fuck was that?! Using me like that, what the actual fuck, Genji?!" Jesse shouted, Genji's eyes flicking down and shoulders hunching before Jesse was pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

"You scared me to death! I would have never forgiven myself if I had done somethin' like that to you, even if it was planned on your part--and don't think I didn't catch that! God, you scared me so bad..."

Genji had stiffened in Jesse's embrace at first, but now he had completely melted into it, hugging Jesse back fiercely, fingers clutching at the back of his shirt.

"I'm sorry Jesse...I'm so sorry, please, I'm so sorry. Please don't go, please, I'm so sorry for everything...Don't leave..." Genji whispered, Jesse pulling back to look him in the eye, feeling a tug in his chest when he saw the tears streaming down Genji's face.

"Promise me, then. Promise me you won't ever do somethin' like that again. Don't you ever try an' leave me like that again. Don't ever try to pull a stunt like that again. Promise?"

Genji nodded, sniffling underneath the faceplate and letting Jesse wipe the tears away.

"I-I promise...I'm sorry Jesse, I'm so sorry for everything, please don't--Don't go again..."

All of Jesse's anger faded away at that, and he pulled Genji to his chest, hugging him tightly.

"I won't, I ain't goin' anywhere. It's okay darlin', you’re okay. I forgive you." He murmured softly, pressing a kiss to Genji's head, nose burying in the soft raven locks.

"I-I'm sorry Jesse, please forgive me, I--I love you...I love you Jesse, I love you so much..."

"S'okay darlin'...I love you too. I love you."

Genji's hands went to the back of his head, fumbling with something until there was a small hissing sound and he was unlatching his faceplate. Jesse watched as Genji pulled it off, keeping his head down and face buried to Jesse's collar, wiping at his eyes and nose.

"Sorry...I'm a mess..." He muttered, hands hovering around his exposed face almost protectively. Jesse couldn't see it, but he wanted to.

"Quit apologizing, I told you it's okay, hon. Here, lemme help you out a bit."

Jesse cupped his hand under Genji's metal-clad chin gently, raising his head to get a good look at his face, Genji not meeting his eyes. Jesse smiled when he saw his boyfriend's face again, different sure, but still just as beautiful as he had always been, still able to make his heart beat faster.

"I've been wanting to see under the mask for a while now...God, you’re so gorgeous..." Jesse murmured, Genji finally looking up with wide eyes filled with confusion and just a bit of hope.

"But I thought--"

"I know what you thought, and here's what I think."

Jesse leaned down and captured Genji's lips with his own, pressing in close when he felt Genji relax and reciprocate. He kept it chaste, pulling away a few moments later but staying close, Genji's cheeks darkening as he buried his face in the crook of Jesse's neck.

"Everything about me is so different though...The scars, the abnormalities...The flaws, the changes, how are you not repulsed by it when you knew me before...?" Genji asked shakily, and Jesse tilted his head, pulling Genji back to look at him again.

"Nah, the scars, the changes, everything about it just lets people know how strong you are, that you pulled through from something they probably never could have. You’re beautiful, darlin', beautiful because of that and because you just are, still just as pretty as a picture. That'll never change."

Jesse smiled, Genji's bottom lip trembling a bit before he leaned back in and curled up into Jesse.

"Jesse...Jesse, I love you...Thank you..."

"There's no need to thank me when it's all true, darlin'. I'm here for you...I love you, Gen."

~~

[scoundrelstars]

The Price of Ink, Part 4

The low growl of the engine echoed strangely along the walls and off into the darkness. They’d been driving for almost an hour down a series of winding subways and rail tunnels that had been used to ferry workers out into the mining pits. Now, illuminated only by the floodlights of their vehicle, the tracks were empty.

Inside the Taurox, things were quiet. The Hellbats sat watching the shadows cast by the floodlights. Reddy and Abel sat with their eyes glued to their wristcog dataslates which showed live pict-feeds from the pair of servo-skulls that roved in front of and behind them. They cast about with auspex readers, scanning the darkness for things unseen. They were moving closer and closer to the heart of Scarist Hive and the odds of them going undetected were shrinking by the moment.

Naemi concentrated on the map in her head, seeing more than what the dataslate on her arm could show her. They were close to the Archives now, barely blocks away from city center. She was amazed they’d made it this far without encountering any of the deranged cultists that had taken over the hive. By all accounts, they had swarmed up from the underhive and taken control of every major building, system, and office in the city. Perhaps none remained down here. The Archives was on the surface, however, and a lump formed in her throat at the thought of facing down those killers.

She shook herself mentally and steeled herself. They’d have to get there first.

“It should just be up there,” she said in a whisper.

“Lights ahead,” said Sergeant Alcoin.

“Abel?” said Sorn.

“Yessir.”

With two fingers, Sorn punched runes on his wristcog and brought the view from Abel’s servo-skull onto the bulkhead pict-screen. It hovered high in the tunnel, creeping along ahead of them. The tunnel widened out into a large railway loading area for people and cargo that would have gone down to the mining pits. Only a few of the vapor lamps were still on, but the pools of light revealed the grand vaults of the Archives stop, where countless scribes would bring their daily tabulations and recordings to be stored at the end of each shift.

“I don’t see anyone.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of any of those tunnel scuttlers. Makes me nervous,” said Sorn.

“Think the Hallowed Starborn cult is big on reading?” asked Naemi. Her voice was strained, but the Hellbats chuckled around her.

“No I don’t, professor. All right, Caissy, bring us in. Aime, look alive on those guns.”

The Taurox pulled into the train station and up onto the equipment loading ramp, its treads biting into the fractured tile and ruined mosaic floor. They came to a stop and opened the back hatch, piling out with guns ready. Caissy and Aime stayed aboard, covering the Hellbats’ advance with the heavy guns.

Water dripped from pipes in the vaulted ceilings, lending the loading platform an echoing, spectral quality. Naemi was squarely in the middle of the formation, protected by Scions on either side and a slab of armoured vehicle at her back. She still wasn’t used to the carapace armor she’d been fitted with, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it looked and she found that her movement was mostly unrestricted. They slunk quickly to the grand staircase that led to the surface. Wrought iron gates had been reinforced with heaps of scrap metal welded together across them to form an impassable wall much like they had encountered on the surface.

“We’re blocked, sir,” said Reddy over the vox, “should we blow it?”

“Maybe not,” said Naemi, searching her memory, “there’s another way, I think.”

She broke away to the side of the main pedway where she followed a pair of tramrails sunk into the floor. They led to a loading ramp that was closed off with two heavy blast doors and big enough to move mining equipment on and off of the trains that would depart from the platform. A freight elevator. And it went up to a storage garage on the surface, adjacent to the Archives. This was their way up. She found the control panel under a pool of light cast by one of the few remaining lamps that shone.

“Can you get it working?” said Sorn, coming up next to her. He made a series of hand motions to the other Hellbats and they fanned out around them, taking covering angles, some facing the elevator and others the approaches.

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

She pulled her Logos icon from underneath her chestplate and turned it over. From the back, she unspooled a fine interface lead that she plugged into the elevator call panel. The solar icon around the stylized tome lit with green light as the cipher-gheist inside did its work. With the scrape of metal on metal, the doors to the freight elevator ground open and glowglobes flickered on inside, revealing a platform big enough to hold a full dump-loader.

Satisfied that nothing was going to jump out at them, Sorn motioned the Taurox forward. With a low grumble, it moved up the loading ramp and onto the elevator. Aime rotated top turret to face back the way they’d come. The brake lights cast a sullen red glow out into the darkness. The Hellbats followed their vehicle up the ramp and took defensive positions along the outer edges of the lift platform. Naemi unplugged her icon and followed.

The doors slid closed with the push of a control rune and the platform lurched upward.

They were dumped out into the storage garage meant for the Archives adepts, mine-boss vehicles, and materiel destined for the railway below. A quick jog up the ramps brought them to ground level where the garage connected to the Archives. They stopped in front of the doorway that led to the building next to them.

“Caissy, Aime. Stay here with the Taurox and keep our getaway secure.” Acknowledges came back from the two troopers and Sorn continued. “We’ll be in an out before anyone knows we’ve been there.”

Naemi followed the Hellbats through an archway that led to the Archives’ main foyer, using her icon’s cipher-gheist to get them through the biomantic scanners and lockouts.

The main hall of the Archives was a soaring edifice of rib-vaulted stone and stained glass, but its grandeur was despoiled by looting and vandalism. Scrivener’s desks were overturned and staved in, the tall tome-stacks had been pushed over, scattering books, dataslates, and mnesis-tapes all over. The great stained glass windows that had once shown the full glory of the Administratum were smashed and huge sack-cloth banners painted with the Starborn’s heretical symbols hung in their place.

“Spread out. Search pattern delta-tertius,” came Sorn’s order, “I feel like a whiskerfish in a river full of swampcats.”

The two servo-skulls that accompanied them zoomed ahead, their auspex scanners searching the darkness for threats unseen. The Mercier boys followed close behind, disappearing into the ruined stacks, their hot-shot lasguns held at the ready. Lufleur hefted her own weapon, a heat-scarred meltagun, and moved quietly for a soldier of her size.

It was eerily quiet amid the stacks. The musty smell of old paper and books made it through the omnishield mask that covered Naemi’s face. It almost comforted her. It was familiar, yet sinister, reminding her of the scriptorum back on Terra, but tainted by the smell of smoke and fresh aero-paint.

Her vox crackled in her ear. “Found something.”

They passed into the great narthex where the High Archivist would have watched over the entrance to the data-crypts, the repository for the planet’s most sensitive and important knowledge. Abel and Reddy were already there, standing over the cracked marble desk and a mound of blue cloth. As she drew near, Naemi realized it was the High Archivist’s corpse. Blood had seeped out onto the white stone floors and dried to a dark brown.

“Been here for a week, maybe?” said Abel.

“Went down fighting,” said his brother, pointing to the huge chunks blasted out of the stone desk.

Naemi stared down at the High Archivist’s body and swayed. Dead eyes stared up from a slack-jawed face.  She felt bile rise in her throat and had to look away. She felt a hand on her arm.

Sorn steered her away from the corpse and towards the data-crypt’s doors. “Come on, professor. The quicker we can get into those data-crypts, the faster we can get out of here.”

“Right,” she said, swallowing hard and unspooling her Logos icon’s interface lead once more.

The back wall of the narthex was dominated by a heavy vault door. A gene-scanner and voiceprint analyzer would have to be passed for the High Archivist’s key to be accepted, but Naemi wouldn’t need to go to such lengths. She prised the front panel off of the crypt’s access cogitator, mouthed a quick apology to any red priests who might be watching, and connected her icon to a data port hidden within. Once again, her Logos icon glowed green as the cipher-gheist went to work.

Runes and tech-script scrawled along the pict-screen as the panel went haywire. A loud clunk echoed through the Archive as the data-crypt’s maglocks disengaged and retracted. Lufleur hauled on the huge door and it swung open, revealing a cavernous structure built of ceramite-reinforced steel and it stretched back into the darkness. Rows of glowglobes clicked on in succession, flooding the data-crypt with clinical, white light. Towers of datastacks and mnemono-matrices rose from the floor, lights winking across their surfaces in dizzying patterns. Along the outer walls, bookshelves containing musty scrolls, tomes, and volumes were neatly organized. It seemed that the Hallowed Starborn hadn’t managed to get into vault. Naemi’s heart leaped at the prospect of the Iterator Soldatta’s greatest work still being intact.

“Neatly done, professor,” said Sorn, coming to stand next to her.

“There’s still power, which is better than I’d hoped,” she said, stepping over the threshold, “The stasis vault should still be functioning. We might even find Soldatta’s work undamaged!”

“Let’s have ourselves a look,” drawled the colonel. He motioned quickly with one hand and Leger and Monpremier bustled in with their equipment. Out of their packs, they brought out black plastic boxes with retractable cables. The two troopers went to work connecting them to the stacks’ dataports, flipping the small switches on their boxes. Small red lights blinked as their exhaust fans revved up with an electric whine.

Naemi started to speak, but remembered the colonel’s face the last time she asked what he would do with the data he was taking from Scarist’s vaults. She decided not to press the issue. Hopefully, she’d be well out of this Emperor-forsaken subsector before it came back to bite her. She affected to not see them and push on deeper into the data-crypt.

The two of them proceeded towards the far end of the chamber where a glass panel separated a section of the vault off from the rest. Arcane machinery hummed around it, projecting a stasis field to keep the contents within protected from the ravages of time. At the center of the stasis chamber, atop a small plinth, Naemi could see the object of her quest. The Rise of Empire, Iterator Soldatta’s greatest work, was a tome the size of a paving stone and engraved with the head of an eagle over crossed thunderbolts.

Naemi began to manipulate the stasis controls though her Logos icon. She could have shut the entire chamber down and retrieved the book, but there was a chance that the Archives might survive the Imperial assault on Scarist and she wanted to keep the accumulated knowledge of the planet safe within the time-warping fields. The entire data-crypt was hardened against attack and she would give it good odds to survive even an orbital lance strike. By adjusting the edges of the field generators in a precise way, she could open a path through the stasis chamber and retrieve the Iterator’s tome without disturbing the rest of the precious objects inside.

The vox channel came alive and she could hear Reddy’s voice whispering, “I’ve got movement out here, chief.”

“Visual?”

“I’ve got mining vehicles and groundcars pullin’ up to the front of the building. They’re packed to burstin’ with some of the meanest characters I ever did see. I think they know we’re here.”

“Pull back to the crypt, we’re almost out of here,” voxed Sorn before giving her a serious look, “Wrap it up, boys. Time for us to go! You too, professor. If you’re gonna grab this thing, it’s got to be now.”

[venominyourcoffee]

Levi And His Robot Cat Girl Girlfriend

It was late at night, at least 3 in the morning. Ami was alone in her hotel room. The tv buzzes and plays advertisements in the background. With a screwdriver in hand, Ami was trying to do some maintenance on the gun on her leg. Ami’s eyes dart from her exposed leg wires and to a small tablet that hums and shows some instructions for maintenance. Ami speaks to herself with a focused tone as she tries not to get distracted.

“Let’s see, tight this bolt- secure this wire…” Ami let’s out a frustrated sigh as a though creeps in her mind. “Man, it’s late… where is he? If I have to bail his ass out again I swear.”

Ami hears a knock at the door and jumps slightly. Ami flips a mental switch and the gun retracts and the metal and synthetic plates cover the gun and resemble a normal leg. Ami gets up and looks through the peephole before opening the door. The sight that greets Ami is Levi with a satisfied smirk as he holds his side under a blood stained shirt. He lets out a huff and a snarky chuckle through the pain as he says “hey brat.”

Ami goes to help him walk but he quickly puts up his hand to stop her.

“Don’t touch me.” Levi said in a slightly annoyed tone. “I’m fine, went to some back ally doc. Bullet just grazed me. I just need to sit done.”

Levi limped his way to the big old couch in the main living room. He sits down with a groan and a sigh, as Ami stares with not a look of concern but annoyed. Ami speaks as she folds her arms and practically hisses at Levi. “Let me guess, Erwin again? Why get rich quick scam did you get mixed up in?” Levi’s brows frowned as he springs to his feat and uses his finger and thumb to grab Ami’s chin. He speaks in a low and clearly tired tone. “Listen to me! It was a decent score and we might get an even bigger paycheck. If this works I can actually get us what we deserve. Understand brat?”

Ami nodded and her ears slowly sank, she knew Levi wasn’t angry and just needed rest. Levi sat back down with a loud groan. He began rummaging through his pocket and pulled out a blood stained bullet.

“This is what shot me… it’s no ordinary round. When the Bastard shot it, it looked like it curved mid air. Do those little pretty brown optics of yours say anything?”

Ami focused as her optics scanned the bullet. After a few seconds Ami spoke as the data appeared in her vision. “Let’s see… came from a semi-auto pistol… low caliber… the manufacturer is the Armored Heart corporation? The only smart pistol they make is the MK 7 Mono. There was a huge factory recall of those.” Ami’s ears perk up as her tone changes to joy. “If the Heart Corporation is still allowing those to be sold, that’s against state code! Other companies would love to have kind of dirt! They’d pay through the nose!” Levi puts the bullet on a uneven table and flashes a devilish grin. “Exactly doll, Erwin set up a buyer and everything. For now I just lay low and wait. In fact doll how about some sleep? It’s past curfew.”

Ami nods and helps Levi lay down and the two fall asleep cuddling.

Ami wakes the next morning and doesn’t see Levi in bed, however she can hear the shower in the very close bathroom. Ami stands up and stretches. The sound of the close highway blares distant horns and sunlight filters through the tall buildings. As Ami stretched she can faintly hear the clicking of her joints and legs. Ami is lost in her morning yoga like routine, she doesn’t hear the shower stop or see Levi enter the room. Ami bends down to stretch and touch her toes until she jolts when she hears Levi’s voice. He whistles as he stand behind Ami, admiring his view. “My my, you may be an airhead Ami but damn your beautiful.” Ami blushes and she turns around to thank Levi. “Awww thanks babe I-“ as Ami turns she sees Levi is still naked and wet from his shower.

Ami’s eyes widen and she feels her face heat up, Levi looks unfazed as usual. Levi smirks as he walks past as Ami seems speechless by her man strutting his stuff. Ami can’t help but stare at Levi’s abs and of course what’s between his legs. Ami is so focused and flustered she slightly jumps when she feels Levi’s hand on her cheek. Levi smiles a little before he speaks in a teasing tone. “Like what you see? Well sadly I think I’m out of commission until the wound is healed fully. But maybe when we get back we can have a little fun.” Ami’s ears perk up as she composes herself and stutters as she speaks. “Yeah… wha- wait where are we going?”

Levi puts on underwear and pants and reaches for the bedside table and picked up a small chip like device. Levi says with a confidence filled laugh. “Forgot to tell you, Erwin dropped this off this morning. Not a lot but a good chunk of credits. Enough for us to have a good dinner and maybe I get you that dress you like.” Ami seems confused as she tilts her head and asks a question with complete innocence. “The pink and red one or the one that makes my ass look big?” Levi responds without missing a beat. “Doll every dress makes your ass look big, that’s why I buy them. To show the world your perfection and remind the world it’s mine.” Levi let’s a small devilish smile flash as Ami gets flustered again.

The two get dressed. Levi throwing on old jeans, a tight t-shirt and a leather jacket. Ami throwing on cut off jeans and a sweater. The two started their walk to the close by shopping district. As the two walked the sound of the urban city blare in the background. The sound of older car models hum on the street. Couples talk and fight in higher apartments as the higher end building skyline shines in the distance. Everywhere Levi looks he is reminded of one thing. This isn’t luxury, this is the world where you have to work and fight to survive. He knows he has to take chance but he knows not risk everything for nothing. But to him none of the fame or money means anything. What matters is every day he sees Ami smile. That one smile shows there’s still good in this world. That one smile is Levi’s one true joy he would fight tooth and nail for it. Ami knows she means a lot to him. However it’s hard for Levi to truly convey how much he cares, how much he loves her.

The two end up at the market place. Venders peddle second hand robotic tech and clothes. The occasional gang member collects protection money. exposed wires spark and bootleg transmissions talk in the background. It’s not the fancy kind of farmers market, but it’s a place where people make a living and you can buy decent stuff at cheep prices. Levi gently places his hand on Ami’s lower back to help guide her through the crowed and keep her close. Ami obliviously is just starting around and enjoying the day out. The two come across a small food stand that seems to be making breakfast food. The smell of fresh vegetables and synthetic condiments fill the air. The two sit down and ask the chef for two small breakfast melas and some coffee. The man nods and his robotic prosthetic beings preparing the meal.

Then man brings two cups of coffee and places two plates of bacon, eggs and hash browns. Levi starts eating but realizes how hungry he actually was and started eating faster. Ami smiles and laughs to herself as she eats more slowly. “Someone is hungry. Oh by the way you said Erwin dropped by, how is he? If you got grazed by a bullet I can’t imagine how he got out.” Levi slows down as he speaks with little to no emotion. “I got off easy, Erwin got really fucked up. When we got the info a security android ran up to him and broke his arm. When he came by our apartment his arm was in a cast. He looked high on pain killers too.” Levi went back to eating and Ami shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah I can’t say I blame him. Is he still using that hazard of a modded shotgun he made?” Levi chuckles to himself and he responds with a smirk. “Yeah, I swear that thing will blow his arm off one day. I half expect him to just throw it like a grenade one day.”

The happy couple continue eating until eventually Levi notices the chef slowly backing away. Suddenly a loud voice shouts from behind the two. “ACKERMAN!” Ami instantly flinches but Levi seems more annoyed since he knows who it is. The two turn around to see a group of three men in what can only be described as Apocalypse Clown attire. Messed up makeup, bats in barbed wire, leather jackets with big top color schemes and spiked Clown shoes. These guys would look so threatening… if there was actually an apocalyptic plot to this story. Now they just look like idiots in really bad cosplay with a clown fetish. Levi and Ami relax and Levi let’s out a deep sigh and has a tone laced with sarcasm and zero respect.

“Well if isn’t Max and the Big Top Bruisers. No wait you guys rebranded to The Quinn’s Gang right? I see your still rocking the clown aesthetic.”

The clown known as Max snaps back with clear anger. “You know damn well we are The Wild Cards right now! That- that doesn’t matter now. Long time no see Ackerman!” Ami speaks with complete innocence and dead pan delivery. “Didn’t I stab you with a fork at a bar a few days ago? And didn’t Levi kick you in the dick”

Levi quickly chimes in. “And he cried.” Ami responds with a blank expression and didn’t miss a beat. “Cried like a bitch.”

Max seems furious and snaps back like a child. “I didn’t cry! I am a clown of death and I spread fear wherever I go!” Ami and Levi exchange judgmental glares before both speaking in unison. “Really man?” Levi quickly ads with a mocking tone. “What, you gonna use your acid spraying flower on us? Oh maybe you’ll make a ballon animal and sick it on us?” Ami starts laughing and adds to the insult. “Oh maybe he’ll slip on a banana peel and make us laugh to death?” Levi let’s out a small chuckle and smiles at Ami before they high five. Max seem like steam is coming out his ears, figuratively speaking.

Max let’s out an angry grunt as he practically shouts. “Listen her you little shit! We heard you got dirt on a corporation, hand it over!” Neither Ami or Levi seem fazed by the yelling and Levi speaks with a slightly agitated tone. “Max, if a low life like you knows about my golden goose, don’t you think other higher gangs know?” Max looks a little confused but nods. Levi continues. “Then don’t you wonder why I didn’t just wake up with a bullet in my head this morning? If I have some easy money, why do you think other gangs weren’t waiting at my appointment?” Max let’s off a cocky laugh and smiles with a smug look. “Cause other gangs don’t know what a punk you are, or what easy pickings you are!” Levi sighed and let out a low tone. “Yup, your a moron.”

Levi throws his coffee cup in Max’s face, which shatters and spills hot coffee all over him as he falls to the ground crying in pain. In the confusion Levi springs up and in three punches to the stomach and face and one fantastic kick, he takes out of the other clowns. Ami quickly summersaults and wraps her legs around the third clowns head as she restrains his arms. With one quick motion the third clown is on the ground and in the tightest scissor hold he’s ever been in. Levi walks towards Max and grabs him by his glued on wig. Levi speaks calmly and in monotone. “Quick heads up, if you have dirt on a corporation don’t share it. The Corpo’s already know who’s involved and with each new party introduced, the payment gets smaller and more shared. Gangs wouldn’t even bother sharing the info cause it’s a lose lose for everyone. So fuck off. Amy let the man go.”

Ami let’s her legs go of the mans neck and he gasps for air. Ami stands up and brushes the dust off her outfit and walks to Levi’s side. Ami and Levi don’t even sound out of breath as they pay the chef and walk off. Levi’s hand rested on Ami’s hip as he pulled her close as they walk. Ami can’t help but blush as she says “there’s the man I love. I can’t help but love watching you fight.” Levi smiled and whispered into Ami’s ear in a teasing tone. “And I love watching those leg of yours go to work. Maybe we can buy a healing stem and you can work those legs for me at home doll.” Ami’s breath hitches as she shyly nods and squeaks out a response through blushed cheeks. “Y-yes sir.” Levi raises and eyebrow and smirks to himself when he hears the title.

The happy and slightly horny couple continued walking and window shopping as the day went on. Eventually a clothing store catches Levi’s eye. Levi talks with a warm smile, well as warm as he can be. “Hey Ami, how about a new dress? My treat.” Ami’s eyes sparkle and her ears perk up as she eagerly nods. The two head in as Ami looks for a new dress. Ami can’t help but hop up and down from excitement. Oblivious to her actions her chest moves as she jumps, which slowly eats away at Levi. Eventually Ami finds a dress she really likes. A short cocktail dress made from a latex material. Ami gets into a dressing room while Levi waits on a chair nearby. Levi notices practically no one is in the store. The only other soul in the store is the store clerk who seems very distracted by a magazine and loudly talking to a friend on her coms link.

Levi can’t get Ami out of his head. Seeing her jump and more importantly seeing her fight really got to him. Levi can’t help but let his hands slowly rest on his growing bulge as he tries to control himself. Eventually Ami opens the dressing room door wearing the dress. However she picked the right size, it seems the dress wasn’t meant for an Android with such assets. The dress barley covers Ami’s nipples let alone her actual chest. Ami doesn’t seem to even notice and smiles with pure innocence. “Well? Looks good? I love the color.”

This, seeing the woman he loves in such a fashion, this is what broke Levi’s resistance. Levi gets up and leads Ami back into the changing room and locks the door behind him. He manages to push Ami against the wall and rests his hand next to her head. With barely any effort, Levi slips the dress down and Ami’s chest falls out completely. Ami can’t help but pant and blush as Levi’s free hand massages her chest, as his fingers feel the softness and gets lost in her beautiful skin. Levi let’s out a small chuckle as he flashes a smile like a devil. “Damn babygirl, you have such an effect on me. You don’t know what you do to me. Maybe I have the strength to have you right here and now.” Ami stares deep into his eyes and almost gets lost in the feeling before letting shaky but eager words slip out. “I would love that darling.”

Levi acted on instinct as he attacked Ami’s neck with kisses and bites. Ami let out a moan before Levi used his free hand to cover her mouth. Levi’s breath was already speeding up, as he spoke with lust filled eyes and a smile. “Shhhh, be quiet brat. Don’t want anyone hearing you, do we?” Levi can feel Ami smile in his palm as she nods. Levi quickly helps Ami out of her dress as he steps back and smiles, admiring every curve. “Now we don’t want the dress to get dirty do- fucking hell… I forgot how beautiful you. And how lucky I am to have you to myself.”

Ami’s eyes widen as her checks burn and a flame in her core ignites. Ami can practically feel Levi’s eyes on her, as if his hands were caressing her voluptuous body. Levi has a hunger in his eyes as he can’t stop smiling. Levi’s hands find their way to Ami’s breasts as they message her. Levi forces his tongue into Ami’s mouth as it makes Ami start to lose focus. The two make out as if they haven’t met in months.

Levi pulls back and pinches both of Ami’s nipples hard, which earns a sharp moan from her. Levi speaks already with heavy deep breaths. “Oh Fuck brat, these pants are getting tight. How about you help me sweetie?” Ami nods as her tongue hangs slightly out of her mouth, her eyes seem glazed over with pleasure. Ami drops to her knees and fiddles with Levi’s zipper before dropping his pants and freeing his dick. As soon as the underwear comes off, Levi’s huge and hard cock springs out almost slapping Ami in the face. Ami’s mouth hangs open as she pants, as Levi’s hand rests on her head. Levi’s hand slowly massages her ears which perk and become sensitive. Levi speaks and Ami whines from the stimulation. His voice practically growling with animalistic lust. “Theres my beautiful brat. I saw you eyeing me up this morning. Well now you get what you wanted. Go ahead brat, eat up.”

Ami’s eyes widen and without hesitation, she slides Levi’s throbbing cock into her mouth. Ami’s wet and hot mouth extracts a loud moan from Levi, as his hand fists into her long hair. Levi speaks through fasting breath and his tone lowers. “Fuck! That’s so… good brat!” Ami bobs her head back and forth at a slow but decent pace. As Levi’s eyes squint at the pleasure, Ami’s hand slithers it’s way down her body and between her thighs. As Ami beings to rub between her folds, it causes her to moan and send vibrations through Levi’s twitching cock. Levi hears a knock and holds Ami’s head still, as he hears an annoyed voice. “Hey if y’all are gonna fuck in there, lock up for me. Keys are by the door. I’m going on a lunch break.” Levi smiles as he starts guiding Ami’s head back and forth as he snickers to himself. “Oh no baby, we were caught.” All Ami does is moan and blush.

All of this, her moans, his pleasure and building tension of release. It’s all of these factors that flips a switch in Levi’s head. Without ever saying a word, Levi pulls Ami off his dick and picks her up. He spins her around and pushes her on her hands and elbows. Levi quickly feels up Ami’s gorgeous skin and pulls Ami’s panties down. Ami pants and she shakes her ass in teasing fashion as she talks through shallow breaths. “W-what about your injury?” Levi digs his hands into Ami’s hips and smiles as he slides his dick against her dripping folds. Levi talks in a low tone and almost growls as he catches his breath. “Fuck my injury, I need you!” Without warning, Levi takes his dick away from Ami’s dripping heat and rams his dick hard deep into Ami’s asshole. Ami let’s out a sharp whine that evolves into a loud moan as Ami’s hands almost break the table she’s supported on with her grip. In a split second what feels like a deep pain melts into pleasure as Ami’s face makes an erotic expression as her mind shuts off. Levi gives a quick and hard slap to Ami’s ass, eliciting another loud moan. Levi digs his fingers into Ami’s hips and begins thrusting fast and hard.

Each thrust sends the echo of flesh hitting flesh. Each thrust brings a pleasured grunt from Levi, and a high pitched shriek of pleasure from Ami. Levi can’t keep but help talk during this moment. “Fuck, yes brat. We’re alone now, I want to hear you scream!” Ami’s eyes start rolling back as her free hand slips between her thick thighs and plays with herself. Ami let’s out broken words and moans as she sways with each thrust. “Oh fuck! Yes! More! Destroy my ass with your massive cock! Rearrange my guts! RUIN ME PLEASE!” These words of encouragement put Levi in a trance and his thrusts become fast. Like inhuman fast. Ami feels a growing fire in her core as she quickly finds true bliss and relief. However she may have climaxed, Levi doesn’t stop his thrusts. Ami can’t keep up and eventually regresses into a whimpering and moaning mess that begs for more and more. Ami’s voice cracks and reaches a high pitch as her words sound like broken prayers. “Please… more… please… fuck!”

Levi smiles as he hears his brat let out such pathetic begging whimpers. Yes he respects and loves Ami dearly. However knowing it’s so easy for him to make her scream, that’s something he takes great joy in. Levi thrusts as hard as he can, as Ami’s tight ass sucks him in deeper. With every thrust Ami’s ass flexes and becomes looser as Ami reaches a second orgasm with not a loud scream, but with a low whimper and a quiet curse under her breath. After a few minutes of Ami feeling like she’s going to pass out from pleasure and overstimulation, Levi grabs a fist of Ami’s hair and yanks back as he curses. “Fuck! Brat, take this!”

Ami feels hot and thick cum shoot deep into her, as Levi cums more then Ami expected. Levi’s cock twitches as he empty’s himself into his personal doll. There’s so much cum that it starts to leak out and drip down Ami’s thigh. Ami’s eyes roll back and all she can muster are small whimpers and broken yeses. Levi let’s go of Ami’s hair as he pulls out and takes a step back to admire his brat. Ami’s thigh shake as her legs feel weak. Her ass gapes and tries to re-clench at the sudden missing massive dick. As much as she clenches, her ass is wide open as it tries to wink at Levi. After a few seconds, Levi’s cum starts to drip, more like flow out of Ami’s gaping hole. Levi raises his hand high and gives a hard slap to Ami’s ass, which was the last bit of her strength gone as her legs give out and she falls to her knees. Ami sits in a puddle of hers and Levi’s cum that pools and stains her inner thighs.

Ami tries to catch her breath as she feels a rough grip on her throat, reach around and pull her sitting up. Ami was pushed against Levi’s thigh as his slowly softening cock twitches slightly in her peripheral vision.

Levi let’s out a low laugh as he talks to Ami while catching his breath. “Fuck… babygirl you did so good. My little brat really deserved that dress. Did you have fun darling?” Ami’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds as her head clears while she responds with a nod and a joyful tone. “Yeah… yes. That was amazing! But fuck my ass is sore… but I don’t mind.” Levi helps Ami to her feet and gives her a tight hug and a kiss to the forehead. The two mop up their mess and Ami gets dressed. As the two leave the dressing room, the find a note next to a key. The note reads. “When your done fucking in my store, lock up. The dress is on the house. That was the most interesting thing all day.”

The two laugh to themselves and lock up the store and head out, with the now partially dirty dress in a bag. Levi checks his phone which was blowing up with missed calls, which were blocked out by Ami’s moans. All of the calls were from Erwin, now voice mail. Levi calls back Erwins number and the phone barley rings before Erwin picks up. “Jeez man I’ve been trying to call you! Where were you?” Levi with a completely dead pan tone responds. “Busy. What do you want?” Erwin sighs before responding. “Well we found a buyer for the intel. I need you as a witness. Come to dock 4 now.” Erwin hangs up and Levi gives an annoyed sigh as he turns to Ami. “Can we make a pitstop and head to the docks? Erwin found a buyer.” Ami nods and the two make their way to the docks district.

The day passes as the afternoon light shimmers on the waterfront. Large ships pass in the distance branding corporation logos on the side of the ships. Erwin stands I front of his classic restored muscle car. His blond hair sways in the breeze. His left arm is covered in a cast that is lightly covered by his large leather rain coat. Levi and Ami walk to to him. Levi speaks before his attention is grabbed. “Hey Erwin good to- oh no. Your growing that stupid beard back?” Ami snickers to herself as she speaks with a smile, trying to hide her laughter. “Hey Erwin, good to see you. You like a teenager in high school bro.” Erwin uses his free and and feels his chin stubble. He sighs and texts something on his phone. “Look, just- it’s hard to shave and- that’s not important. The buyers will be here soon. I did most of the work, I just need you to back me up. The buyers are the Rose Gold corporation. You might have heard of them, big time weapon manufacturer.” Levi nods and shoots a smug grin and speaks with a chuckle. “And their about to drop their new line of smart rifles right? No wonder they’d be pissed about this.” Erwin nodded with a similar confident smirk.

The two chitchat for a bit before four armored SUV’s with tinted windows pull up in a circle formation. Several armed and masked figures with trench-coats step out of the cars and stand still. A woman in a high end suit steps it and looks directly at the group. Ami let’s out a small gulp as she’s not used to corporate meetings. Levi notices and pulls Ami to his side and wraps one arm around her waist. He whispers to a Ami in a reassuring voice. “Just keep calm, don’t flinch. Don’t show these idiots that their all talk is working.” The woman walks up to Erwin and speaks with both sass and a little respect. “Your Erwin right? You said you have proof the Armored Heart Corporation is in violation of a weapon recall?” Erwin nodded and silently hands the woman a chip with a stern look. The woman saps the chip into her phone and reads the report. The woman stays silent for a few seconds before she turns her eyes to Levi, completely ignoring Ami.

The woman speaks with a very bored tone. “And you have the proof?” Ami subtly clung to Levi as he pulled out the smart pulley from his pocket. He tossed it in the air and the girl in the suit caught it and snapped her fingers. One of them masked men in trench-coats slowly walked up and held the bullet in front of his mask. The mask lit up as it scanned the bullet. The masked figure nods and the woman gives a smirk. She pulls out her phone and speed dials someone and starts speaking. “Yes- Yes it’s confirmed. Send the payment.” The woman hangs up and smiles as she extends her hand for a handshake. “Thank you mister Levi, mister Erwin and… whoever the cat girl is. The money will be in your accounts by tomorrow. Pleasure doing corporate espionage with you.” The woman keeps her hand extended to Levi, who keeps and iron stare and stays still. All Levi does is hug Ami closer to him and doesn’t budge one bit. The woman slowly closes her hand and nods as her and her masked figures get back into the SUVs and start to drive off.

Once the cars drive out of sight, Erwin let’s out a deep sigh as if he was holding s breath the whole meeting. “Fuck I hate meeting with Corpos. But that went better then I expected. You good Ami?” Levi turns to Ami and gives her a kiss on the forehead and a tight hug. Levi speaks in a loving tone that surprises Erwin a little. “Are you ok sweetie? You did very well, I’m proud of you.” Ami’s eyes go doe eyed as her ears perk up and a warm smile shines on her face. Ami knew she was safe with her man, and Levi would protect her with all he had. Ami nods and kisses Levi’s cheek and smiles as she talks. “Yup! I think you had that woman shaking in fake ass leather boots!” Levi laughs before he notices Erwin’s face of disbelief. Levi quickly let’s out a shout like an attack dog but with a very straight face. “The fuck you looking at Erwin?” Erwin snaps back and coughs as he awkwardly responds. “Oh! Nothing. Umm… I can drive you guys back home if you want?”

Levi and Ami nod as they hop in the back of Erwin’s car. He turns the key and hears the rwar of an older engine and the car speeds off. As the car drives along the highway near the docks, the setting sun shines on the coast and gently illuminate Levi and Ami cuddling in the backseat. As Ami relaxes in Levi’s arms, he gently rubs her head and shoulders as he whispers in her ear. “It’s days like these that remind me all over why I love you darling.” Ami smiles warmly and kisses Levi’s check as she whispers back. “And I love you too baby.”