#chyler silva

[authortobenamedlater]

@rainintheevening @threshergm @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask @thearbiterthel @stitchlingbelle You asked.

(This is rough and subject to change without notice)

—

“Don’t talk.”

Tom looked quizzically at the Master Chief’s visor.

“Don’t talk to each other about what you saw,” the Chief elaborated tersely, still aiming his rifle out the Pelican’s open bay. “You’ll need to get debriefed once we get to the ship.”

“What ship?” April asked.

“Yeah, where are we going?” Sully added.

“UNSC Mercy Seat. Medical frigate,” the Chief answered.

Tom glanced at Chyler. She was silent and unmoving against his shoulder. She hadn’t said a word since boarding the Pelican.

She’s not OK.

“Chyler.” Tom nudged her. “Look.”

Chyler blinked slowly. “At what?”

“The sunrise. Just look at it.”

Chyler stared out the open hatch. “Why?”

“Because someone should.” Tom took in the golden glow over the snowcapped mountains. “Someone should remember it. And we’re the only ones left who can.”

—

There is of course more to this story. I’ll see how long I want to make it.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

"You can't escape my cuddles" with Tom and Chyler

I am so sorry for taking so long to finish this prompt, but I am finally finished with it! I hope you enjoy it :D

---

Tom bent down and rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He had been through a lot over the course of his life - Covenant invasions, the resurgance of ancient alien conquerors, even a robotic uprising like the science fiction stories of the turn of the millennium.

None of that had even begun to prepare him for this. He was flinching at every shadow, his heart hammering in his chest with every breath he took. He knew he was running out of time; he'd found somewhere to hide, to frantically try to finish his project, but he knew deep down that it wasn't going to be enough.

"I know you're in here... you can't hide from me."

The voice was chasing him... haunting him. It sent a chill down his spine in spite of himself. "I just need a little more time," he muttered under his breath as he tapped frantically on his pad. He had to keep working... he was so close, he just needed a little more -

His train of thought was derailed by the gentle swish of the door to his hiding place sliding open. He squinted as light spilled into the otherwise dark room, and his blood ran cold as a silhouette filled the doorway.

"There you are," the voice hissed, dark satisfaction dripping from every note. "You should have known better than to think you were going to get away from me."

Lasky held his hands up placatingly. "Wait," he pleaded, his breath catching nervously in his throat. "I just - "

Faster than he could track, the silhouette was upon him. The datapad was shoved out of his hands and suddenly he was pressed down against the couch cushions beneath him, and arms were wrapped around his neck almost tight enough to strangle him.

In spite of the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, Tom found himself laughing. "You were supposed to be asleep, Chy," he protested as his wife curled up against his chest.

Chyler lifted her head to scowl at him, though with her puffy sleep-riddled eyes and droopy lips it looks far more like a pout. "No," she argued, prodding him in the chest with her finger, "We were supposed to be asleep." She wrapped her arms back around him and rested her head on his chest.

Tom laughed again. "I needed to finish that report," he explained as he tried to reach again for his datapad. "Then I'll come back to - "

Chyler cut him off once more with a scowl, the expression appearing more serious this time. "No," she said firmly, grabbing his arm and pushing it against his side before pinning it there with her own arms. "You're staying right here, so you'd better get comfortable and put your arms around me."

Tom thought about protesting - about reminding her that he had work to do, and that he wasn't just her pillow - but he knew that it would have been a futile effort. He had never had much success in turning her down... for anything. "Alright," he finally conceded, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You win."

Chyler hummed contentedly. "Good answer," she breathed, nestling in tighter against him. "You should know by now that you can't escape my cuddles."

Tom rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but relish the weight of her body in his arms. "As if I could ever want to," he smirked, then pressed a kiss against the top of her head and settled in to sleep.

---

ALSO - as a bonus, here's a sneaky extra in my AU of your AU of your AU, in which Chyler survived Circinius IV and Cadmon was actually put on ice by ONI to hide his knowledge of the Covenant and upon his defrosting he was given and subsequently took the opportunity to become a Spartan-IV... and eventually fell for a certain best friend of one Captain Thomas Lasky. (That was such a massive mess for what this is actually turning out to be but I don't even care it's worth it.)

Prompt comes from this list.

"Infinity to Fireteam Marquis, report in."

Commander Sarah Palmer's voice was tight. Measured. Professional. Everything it was supposed to be. It was important to be on her game - especially considering the fact that she wasn't really supposed to be personally handling training missions. However, as the leader of the Infinity's Spartan contingent she had a habit of affording herself a few creature comforts.

'Marquis Lead to Infinity, go ahead,' came the answer.

It was ridiculous, but just the smug tone of voice was enough to make her stomach flutter. She scowled to mask the way the corners of her lips threatened to turn up in a traitorous smile. "Report mission status, Marquis Lead," she said tersely, trying to at least pretend to keep up the image of impartial leadership. "You're running low on the mission timer."

Even as she spoke, Palmer tried to ignore the fact that she really wasn't supposed to be having this conversation on a direct encoded transmission. She also tried to ignore the thought of how badly she wished she were down there so she could watch his back in person.

No matter how hard she tried to ignore those things, however, her stomach still fluttered again when he answered.

'Don't worry about us, Infinity,' he said, and she could hear the little smirk that he always wore whenever he teased her. 'We'll make sure to come back pretty and punctual for you, Ma'am.'

Sarah shook her head, a quiet smirk on her lips. "Take care of yourself out there, Marquis Lead. Infinity out." With that she tapped the icon to cut their link and, in what had turned out to be something of a mission ritual of hers, she reached out with her index finger and brushed it against the solitary picture that she kept tucked in a drawer on her desk.

It wasn't a great picture - slightly blurry, her hair was blowing across half her face, and she hardly even recognized herself... but it was still her favorite. Specifically because of the man in whose arms she was wrapped... Spartan Cadmon Lasky, younger older brother of her CO and arguably best friend, Captain Thomas Lasky. Their relationship was a secret to everyone except Roland, and for good reason - there were about a million different reasons for them not to get together; the fact that Cadmon had spent the better part of three decades on ice being but one of many.

Still... Cadmon Lasky had a way of making her break the rules. "I love you, you idiot," she whispered to the photo with a fond smile that even he rarely got to see.

That same smile disappeared in an instant when her comm lit back up with a new transmission. 'Sorry Infinity, last got garbled; can you repeat that?' Cadmon asked. She could only imagine that his customary smirk was somehow even more smug than before.

Sarah ran a hand over her tight ponytail, sighing deeply. "No, Marquis, I will not repeat that," she said stiffly even though she couldn't quite stop the corners of her lips from turning up into a small grin. "Go kill some Covvies and ask me in person.

'Strong copy, Infinity. Anything for you.'

Sarah rolled her eyes as she tapped the icon more firmly, making sure that she severed the transmission this time. She rested her head in her hands and groaned softly.

He was never going to let her live this one down.

[pathfinderlittleduck]

Halo 4: Forward Unto Dawn | 1/??

[authortobenamedlater]

Echolalia

Old prompt fill for @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, now on AO3.

@ageless-aislynn @mrtobenamedlater @rainintheevening @naranghim @indigograceauthor

@threshergm @sarnakhwritesthings @helix-enterprises117 @pelgraine @stitchlingbelle

@choasuqeen

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

For these, 3 for Fred/Kelly and 14 for Tom/Chyler!

After all the complaining I have done about needing prompts, I somehow accidentally left this languishing in my drafts folder for weeks now. Embarrassing.

Thank you so much for giving me a prompt! I have REALLY been needing some, and these were very fun to write. If anyone is interested in seeing me write any more of these, throw me an ask!

Here goes!

3. "You're an angel, you really are." ... Fred/Kelly

"Are you an angel?"

Kelly's eyebrows lifted curiously. She had been asked a lot of stupid questions in her life, but that was certainly a first. "No," she answered firmly. "Now shut up and go to sleep."

"You look like an angel."

He was being persistent tonight. Stubborn. He clearly wasn't going to let this go without a fight. Unfortunately for him, she was in much better fighting shape than he was.

"Well I'm not. Sleep."

He pouted at her. He looked absolutely ridiculous with his superhumanly muscled six-foot-something stature, scarred face, and infuriatingly handsome features twisted into an almost adorable, childish scowl. She didn't know whether to laugh at him or kiss him.

Before she could make up her mind, his expression changed into a grin.

"Make me," he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Kelly groaned and ran a hand through her hair. "You are a grown man," she countered. "You have a cracked collarbone and three broken ribs and are on enough pain killers to send a horse on to meet its maker. The ship surgeon ordered you to sleep, and the only reason I'm even here is to make sure you do it."

She leaned over to glower down at him. She absent-mindedly noted that she was close enough to kiss him, if she really wanted to. But she didn't. That's what she told herself, anyway. "That's exactly what I'm going to do," she continued, trying to distract herself. "So shut up, and go to sleep."

She half-expected him to pout again. At least to glare at her. Instead, he just grinned dopily. His eyes were fixed on her lips as she spoke, his pupils dilated so far she could hardly even see his green irises.

"You're an angel. You really are," he said, his voice dazed and happy.

Staff Sergeant Shaddock sighed again. "Fine, I'm an angel," she conceded, the ghost of a smile turning up the corners of her lips in spite of herself. "And you are ridiculous. Now..."

"I know, I know," he cut her off, waving his hand dismissively at her. "Shutting up and going to sleep, Ma'am," he said, tossing her a mock salute as he delivered the playful sobriquette. He turned onto his side and hummed contentedly, the pain killers making him relaxed. More relaxed than she had ever seen him in the years that they had known each other, she realized with a dull ache in her chest.

"Good night, Angel," he yawned as his eyes fluttered shut.

With his eyes closed so he couldn't see it, Kelly's lips turned up in a full-blown smile. "Good night, Fred," she whispered, and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

14. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here." ... Tom/Chyler

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her chest heaved as she tried unsuccessfully to get air in her lungs, but there was no relief for the ache she felt deep within. She tried to call out. Tried to warn the cadets around her of the things that were coming for them.

They couldn't hear her. They weren't listening. She had to warn them. She had to warn him.

And then they were there. The things. The monsters. The air crackled and burned as their neon weapons flashed overhead. Screams filled the air along with the acrid scent of smoke and burning flesh.

She had to find him. Had to warn him. Had to be with him, at the very least.

She pushed through the crowd. Saw faces she recognized... at least she thought they did. Everything was moving in such a blur that she had a hard time focusing on anything for more than a moment or two. But she had a goal and she had a burning will to accomplish it.

Of course... it didn't matter how strong her will was. It didn't matter how hard she fought. Nothing mattered. Because those things... they just took. They took and they never gave back.

He was dead when she found him. Lying in a heap on the ground, his body mangled but his face still perfect. Lips she had kissed less than an hour before. She lost him, just like she lost her parents. Just like she lost everthing.

It was too much this time. She knew she should be strong, but in that moment she wasn't. She was just a scared girl who couldn't take it any longer. She fell to her knees and cried. No... saying she cried didn't do it justice. She wept. She wailed. She screamed.

One of the things lumbered closer, but she didn't even bother running. Didn't bother fighting. What was the point? They would overpower her. Would outrun her. They couldn't be escaped, couldn't be killed. She just cradled his head in her lap and pressed another kiss to his cold lips. Their second kiss. Their last kiss.

She closed her eyes and waited for the end.

"Chyler!"

She jolted awake, tears streaming down her face and her lungs burning. Instinctively she gulped down air like she was starving for it... she was starving for it. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the dark room she was in, and even after they did it took her several long moments to recognize her surroundings.

The bedside table. The mirror across the room over the desk. The door that led to the small adjoining bathroom. The pile of clothes he always left on the floor because they 'weren't dirty enough to wash, but they were too dirty to fold and put in a drawer.'

That was when she finally realized that he was there with her. His strong arms wrapped around her, his heart beating against her back, his soft voice whispering in her ear.

"Tom," she breathed, his name leaving her lips in a sob. She leaned back into his chest, reaching over her shoulders with both hands to bury her fingers in his hair and pull him closer against her. She breathed in his familiar smell, felt his warm body against hers, curled her fingers in his longer than regulation hair.

He was her anchor, and she could finally breathe again.

"I'm here," was his answer. Simple. Strong. Dependable. Just like him.

"Don't... don't go," she responded.

Tom ran one hand through her hair. He was used to this. Some nights it was her who woke up crying, some nights it was him. They had learned to deal in the best way they knew how... by depending on each other. It was the only way they knew how.

"I'm not going anywhere," he breathed into her hair, his soft lips brushing against her scalp. "I'm staying right here, Chy."

Fresh tears fell from her eyes. The relief she felt was overwhelming. He was here. They had survived. They had each other.

She didn't know if she had a tomorrow. She didn't know if she had another breath. But she knew she had Tom. And that was all she needed.

[authortobenamedlater]

I wrote a thing. Part of a story I may write at some point about what Tom and Chyler were up to during Reach.

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask based on our AO3 conversation 😁

—

General Audrey Lasky dabbed at her eyes and for the third time in the last hour, tried to pull herself together.

Her daughter-in-law was dead, and the work wouldn’t let up enough for Audrey to go to the other side of Ankara and be with her grieving son. Or for him to come to her.

Some things never change. We’re in the same damn city, and I still can’t be there for him.

“You kiss our children with that mouth, Marine?” Audrey’s late husband would have asked her.

Shut up, Jim, Audrey wearily told the voice in her head even as she wished its owner were admonishing her in person.

She fought off tears again. Nobody needed to see General Lasky sobbing at her desk.

Ping…ping…ping

Who wants me now? Audrey hit the “accept” button without caring much about who was on the other end. “This is General Lasky,” she answered tonelessly.

“Audrey?” A staticky female voice asked.

“Yes,” Audrey confirmed. 

A sigh from the other end. “Oh, finally. I’ve been trying to reach Tom for the past three days!”

Reach Tom? Audrey stared at the wall. Now she was hearing things. Things that sounded a lot like her daughter-in-law. The same daughter-in-law who had died over Reach.

“Have you heard from him?” The caller continued. “Do you know how to get in touch with him?”

“Who is this?” Audrey demanded.

Chyler was dead. So who was this on the phone?

“Who is it? It’s me. It’s Chyler.” A confused pause. “Is everything all right?”

Audrey nearly laughed. Nothing was all right. Reach was ash, Earth had nearly joined it, humankind was running for the hills, and now she was hallucinating a call from her son’s dead wife.

“You’re dead.” Audrey didn’t see any point in beating around the bush. This was all a dream or something, anyway.

“What?!”

“Your name was on Bleak Midwinter’s casualty list,” Audrey said bluntly. “Saw it with my own two eyes.”

“I wasn’t on…oh.” A gasp. “Oh, I must have still been listed on the crew manifest.”

Audrey sat up straighter. Was it possible? Was this real?

I have been down this road once before.

“I got reassigned at the last second,” Chyler—maybe it really was her—continued. “Glory’s Light. They needed an ops officer and…wait, did Tom not get my message? That I got switched?”

“He must not have,” Audrey murmured.

“Wait, you two thought I was dead?!”

A surge of adrenaline jolted Audrey out of her fugue. “Chyler.”

“Yes.”

“This is really you?” Audrey covered her mouth with one hand.

“Yes. Yes, Audrey, it’s really me.”

Audrey hit the mute button and let herself have a few seconds to cry into her palm. “Chyler. Tom thinks your dead, and I did too until about thirty seconds ago.”

“Oh, no,” Chyler gasped. “Is he OK?”

“No, but I’m about to change that. Can I reach you at this frequency?”

“Yes. It’s my command line on Glory’s Light. I really shouldn’t be using it for this.”

“We’ve all got bigger fish to fry right now.” Audrey made quick note of the numbers. “OK. Stay by your line.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’m going to find him.” Audrey pushed herself back from the desk. “We’ll call you.”

“OK.”

Audrey almost ended the call and then thought better of it. “Chyler, I’m…” I’m what? Nothing Audrey could think of seemed to do this justice.

“I know,” Chyler said. “Just find Tom. Please.”

“I will.” Audrey ended the call, locked her computer, and ran. All thoughts of duty were gone.

Now, she had a duty to her son.

[authortobenamedlater]

Oooooh send me all of these for my pet freaks

oc asks: not-so-nice edition

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

After listening to @mrtobenamedlater talk about how much he hates Sarah Palmer, I felt an incredible urge grow within me to write a story.

In this story, Cadmon Lasky survives and was just cryofrozen by ONI in an effort to keep the Covenant secret. Tom and Chyler end up finding him with Sully's help, and when he gets frozen he decides to become an S-IV.

Eventually he meets another Spartan. She doesn't tell him what ship she's stationed on because of reasons. Anyway they fall for each other, but he's too afraid to tell his little brother (who is now old enough to be his dad) for fear of causing some sort of incident. When things finally do come to a head and he decides to introduce them, he sets up a meeting while they are all on shore leave on Earth at the same time.

Tom and Chyler walk up to the restaurant, eager to meet Cadmon's new lady love. When they get there, they see the commander of the Infinity's Spartan contingent, Sarah Palmer, standing outside looking like she's waiting for someone. They exchange their friendly greetings, finding it odd that she's there, until a cheerful voice calls out from behind them, "Tom, Chyler, Sarah! What, did you guys all catch a cab here together?" He walks up and confidently kisses Sarah on the cheek.

Tom and Sarah both go completely white. "Wait, you're..." Tom stutters. At the same moment Sarah is saying, "You mean he's your..."

Cadmon is confused. Chyler nearly falls over laughing. Tom and Sarah spend an evening not knowing whetehr they should laugh or cry. Everyone has a great time.

[authortobenamedlater]

Far Away, For Far Too Long

7:15pm me: Oh, I'll do a little work on this fic.

10:00pm me: I MUST POST THIS NOW OR I WILL DIE

Sometimes Chyler just wishes Tom didn't have to be so brave.

I missed my rarepair and needed to write them. And Far Away is one of my favorite Tom/Chyler songs.

@mrtobenamedlater @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask @helix-studios117 @ageless-aislynn @rainintheevening @sarnakhwritesthings @stitchlingbelle @naranghim @makowrites

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

How about…“expressing fears and discomforts” and “crying in front of them” for Tom/Chyler and Fred/Kelly?

Which pair goes with which prompt is author’s choice!

I cannot believe that I lost this in my inbox. Oh boy. I feel awful. So anyway, here goes!

Expressing fears and discomforts - Tom/Chyler

Chyler sat up in bed, noting with a frown the lack of a warm body beside her. She scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hands, then searched for the bedside clock. 0200. It was far too early to be waking up, and far too late to be sleeping alone.

Something was wrong.

She slowly rose from bed and made her way to the bedroom door. She snatched Tom's discarded hoodie from where it lay on the floor and wrapped herself in it to stave off the chilly midnight air. The door was closed, but she could tell by the dull light bleeding under the portal that he was in the kitchen of their small apartment. She gingerly opened the door and made her way out, blinking in the light.

"Chy, what are you doing up?" Tom asked worriedly while her eyes struggled to adjust to the light exposure. "It's the middle of the night!"

"I came out to ask you that exact question," Chyler said sternly, fixing her husband with a glare once she managed to see again. "Why did I wake up at two in the morning to an empty bed?" she demanded.

Tom, who had been looking at her with concern etched into his handsome features, ducked his head bashfully. "Sorry, I... I just needed to think for a minute," he explained. "Didn't want to wake you up."

Now it was Chyler's turn to feel concerned. "What's going on?" she asked quickly, briskly walking forward and taking Tom's hand in hers.

Her husband ducked his head again, seemingly avoiding eye contact. When he did glance her way and realized that she wasn't going to be letting this go any time soon, he tiredly rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I... I'm scared, Chy," he said. "What if... what if I screw up?"

He finally turned to look at her. His eyes searched hers for several long moments, then they dropped until he was staring at her belly.

Chyler followed his eyes. When her tired brain finally managed to connect the dots, she couldn't help but laugh. "Screw up?" she asked somewhat incredulously. "Tom, of all the men I've ever met, you have the least to worry about in that regard."

Tom looked up at her seriously. "My dad set a high bar," he said quickly, "but... you know who my mom is. What if I end up more like her?" He stepped forward to wrap his arms around Chyler's waist, pulling her close and resting his forehead against hers. "You're my world, Chy. And..." he trailed off, one of his hands slowly sliding around to rest on her stomach. "And our baby will be too. I just don't want to mess up."

Even though she'd only told him about her positive pregnancy test the day before, the words our baby already sent a happy thrill through Chyler. She tenderly reached up and cupped one side of his face in her hand and pulled him down into a slow kiss.

"You're a good man, Tom. You won't 'mess up.'" She spoke firmly, staring confidently into his eyes. Then she smirked and added, "Besides - if you ever start to slip up, you have me to put you back in line."

Tom laughed and pressed another kiss to her lips. His stiff posture slowly relaxed as he looked down at her with a grin splitting his face.

"Now, first things first," Chyler said, resting her head against his chest. "Your wife is tired and pregnant. Carry her to bed."

Tom laughed again. "You're only a few weeks along," he said. "You're already going to start using 'I'm pregnant' against me?"

Chyler smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. "Yes," she said happily. "Now carry me."

Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head ruefully, but despite his weak protests he still bent down to lift his wife in his arms and carry her back to their bedroom. "I'm really in trouble now, I can feel it," he chuckled. Chyler just snuggled into his chest and almost immediately fell back asleep.

----

Crying in front of them - Fred/Kelly

Fred stumbled into the viewing deck of the UNSC Atlas. He stumbled a lot these days - his legs were longer than they used to be. Stronger, too. The doctors had warned him that there would be an adjustment period, but he didn't know how long it would take.

That wasn't the most pressing issue on his mind, anyway.

He managed to keep his footing all the way to the viewport. He leaned against the railing and stared out at the expansive black that stretched out before him. Things were different now. So many of them were gone. Ralph, Fhajad, Alice... there was so much different now.

A sound echoed toward him from the shadows of the viewing room, and he instinctually whipped around to face it. "Who's there?" he demanded in a voice that he hoped was fiercer than it felt.

"It's just me," a quiet voice said from the shadows off to his right.

Fred recognized it instantly. "Kelly," he said matter-of-factly. "What are you doing here?"

His fellow Spartan sniffed loudly and hurriedly ran her hands over her face. "Nothing," she snapped defensively. "What are you doing here?"

Fred leaned one elbow on the railing and looked her over. She appeared small and fragile... the augmentations had been harder on her than most. She stayed sequestered under medical care for two full weeks longer than any of the others.

"It's weird, isn't it?" he asked, ignoring Kelly's question. "Everything has changed. Everything is..."

"Different?" Kelly supplied. She stepped forward and leaned on the railing beside him, slumping until their sides were touching. They stood together in silence, staring out at the black. "We lost so many," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "They didn't even have a fighting chance."

When Fred looked over at her, he noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked so different from when they'd first met as children. More mature. Her dark brown hair had lost all of the blue dye of their youth except for in the very ends, which she usually kept tucked into the neckline of her shirt. Her blue eyes shone with bunched-up tears.

Fred carefully lifted one arm and rested it on Kelly's shoulders. She stiffened under his touch, her gaze fixed on the viewport. Then, in a rush, her defensive posture melted away and she collapsed into his tentative embrace. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as they stared out at the dark, imagining the caskets of their fallen teammates.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here," Fred finally said, hearing his own voice break as he spoke. "We lost too many. If we'd lost you too..." he trailed off, unable to finish the thought out loud. Kelly seemed to understand, because her own arms snaked around his waist and she clung tightly to him.

No more words passed between them. They simply leaned into each other, supporting one another under the unbearable weight of this experience.

"I'm glad you're here, too," Kelly finally breathed, releasing her hold on him. They slowly separated. "We should go," she said slowly, turning toward the door. "I'm sure the others will be waiting."

Fred nodded firmly and followed her out. For whatever reason, they had allowed this special moment to pass between them. But now they had to push it all aside. They had work to do.

[authortobenamedlater]

Also from last night’s Forward Unto Dawn fic research, because sometimes you go in looking to finish a story and end up with another plot bunny:

Sometime after Circinius, maybe a day or maybe several years, Sully tells Tom he’s sorry for hurting his foot because that biofoam could have saved Chyler. Tom is horrified that Sully feels guilty about this and tells him they didn’t know Chyler was hit, and she might have died anyway. Sully isn’t consoled by any of this. Tom finally says “Chyler wouldn’t want you to think this way, Sully, and neither do I.”

This is going to the bottom of the fic priority list because it might be a struggle to get this level of angst out. I only have so much capacity for that. And I have a hard time writing Lasky without his bride anymore.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

32 from the hugs list for Fred/Kelly and 4 from the touching list for Tom and Chyler?

Okay! It took me about a decade, but after way too many different attempts to actually write these prompts out I think I've finally stumbled upon something that I like.

Thanks for sending me the prompts! I enjoyed writing these little blurbs. Hopefully they turned out alright.

Prompts come from this post.

32. Long-lasting Hugs - Fred/Kelly

(For context, this happens right after the Spaghetti-Slipspace battle in First Strike.)

Kelly entered the room carefully. Despite the fact that the bulkier sections of her armor had been removed, the techsuit she still wore managed to irritate her wounds with practically every twitch of a muscle. Still, she was on a mission.

The single occupant of the medical suite lay motionless, still recovering from the zero-gee excursion to repair the damaged section of the Ascendant Justice’s hull. Cortana had informed her that he was waking up, but it seemed that Fred’s body had yet to receive the same message.

She took advantage of his slow stirring to look the other Spartan over. His helmet was off, laid on a counter to one side by whoever had managed to cart him here. His scarred face was calm. Peaceful, even.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him that way.

Though she felt almost desperate for him to wake up - to hear him tell her in his own voice that he was okay - it still almost hurt to watch that rare peace slip away from his handsome face, replaced by the frown lines and markers of near-constant stress that had taken its place as the years went by.

Though her burned skin screamed in protest at any quick movement, she was at his side before his eyes fluttered open. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently, resisting the urge to brush the black hair back from his forehead.

He glared at the ceiling, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light. “What happened?” he asked in a voice rough with disuse.

Kelly paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “After that last strike, Will was the first one to wake up. He managed to drag the rest of you back in. He and Grace are both active and cleared for duty. John is stable, but he’s still unconscious.”

Fred forced himself into a sitting position, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Anton and Li? Polaski?” he asked softly. By the tone of his voice, he already knew the answer.

“They didn’t make it,” she forced out around the lump in her throat.

Kelly watched her fellow Spartan process the information. She could practically see new worry lines etch their way into his visage as he found some way to blame himself for their deaths.

“So many,” he whispered in a voice so quiet she wondered if he’d even meant to say it out loud. His armored hand slowly made its way toward hers, two armored fingers hooking around a pair of her bare digits. “I dreamed I’d lost you too,” he admitted softly.

There was something in his voice; something that he usually kept under layers of either sarcasm or stoicism. Vulnerability. Fear. The kind of raw emotions that led soldiers to make poor decisions in battle. The kind that each Spartan had long ago trained themself not to feel.

The kind that she had been battling since those horrible moments when she thought that he had died in that tangled mess of Slipspace alongside the others.

Of their own accord, Kelly’s arms wrapped around Fred’s neck. She forced down the shrieking pain of her still–healing injuries and pulled the man close enough to rest their foreheads against one another. She felt his arms wrap around her in return, careful not to harm her with his enhanced strength.

Neither one of them spoke a word. They simply embraced, clinging to one another as though they would die if they lost their grip. In the back of Kelly’s mind she knew that whatever time they had together was limited - that in a matter of moments they would be called back to the fight. To the war. To the real world.

But until the real world came calling, she would keep as tight a hold as she possibly could on the man she loved.

(It's sappy and gross, but whatever. I'm trying to learn to be okay with it when I write sappy and gross stuff.)

4. Caressing the Other's Hand - Tom/Chyler

(This actually turned out to be the opening of another story I am working on, in which I explore why a certain Admiral took a special interest in the career of a certain Navy officer. I'll hopefully get that finished before too awfully long.)

“It’s going to be fine, Tom,” Chyler repeated herself for probably the fortieth time. She spoke in a hushed tone, keeping her voice low so that the secretary seated not five yards away wouldn’t overhear them.

But who were they kidding? This was the headquarters of ONI, after all. Not a thing happened in this building unless it was being observed by at least half a dozen sets of eyes and ears.

“Would you stop pacing? They’ll think you’ve gone mad.”

She had a point there, Tom had to concede. During the twenty minutes they’d been waiting outside the ornate oak door that separated them from the stuff of nightmares, Tom hadn’t managed to make himself sit still for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t know how you can be so calm about all of this,” he hissed as he anxiously made his way back to her side. “We get a personal summons from the UNSC’s boogeyman and you expect me to sit still like I’m in Sunday School.”

Chyler sighed good-naturedly, rolling her eyes at him. “No, I expect you to behave like an adult waiting outside the office of an extremely high-ranking superior. Can you do that?”

Tom glared at his shoes. She was right. Of course she was right; she was always right. It was one of the things he loved - and hated - most about her.

“I’ll try,” he finally grumbled as he fell into his seat.

Chyler smiled and dipped her head. “That’s all I ask,” she said softly. “I’d like to remember that you spent your last moments with at least some dignity.”

Tom shot her a dark look, but couldn’t keep a grin from catching hold of his lips. She also always knew just how to lighten him up, and for that he was extremely grateful.

They sat in silence for several long moments. The young man felt the anxiety build up in his chest again as each second ticked by. After less than a minute, he was primed to explode all over again.

Chyler, reading his mind, reached out one hand to take hold of his. Her soft, ice-cold fingers slowly traced the back of his hand and gave him something - anything - to focus on besides his impending doom. He sank into the familiar feeling; chased the comfort of her hand wrapped in his. Became so encompassed by the sensation that he nearly jumped when he heard the secretary clear his throat from behind that ridiculous desk.

“Lieutenant Lasky?” the young man called out. He raised an eyebrow disapprovingly when both Tom and Chyler snapped to attention. “Lieutenant Thomas Lasky,” he amended.

Tom squeezed Chyler’s hand one last time and shot her a glance over his shoulder as he made his way to the desk.

You’ll be fine, Chyler mouthed reassuringly.

“I’ll buzz you in,” the secretary grumbled, gesturing impatiently. “And step to it. Admiral Parangosky doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

[authortobenamedlater]

Parapraxis

@writeforfandoms @sarnakhwritesthings the fic based on the infamous autocorrect reblog chain has arrived! After way too long!

Fair warning for anyone who might get squicked with such things, there is a fair amount foul language in here. It’s for plot purposes and I have tried to keep it “funny first, foul second.” It's definitely a notch above my usual fare though.

@alternatescififandomelover @getonmybookshelf @spiralled-fury @stressineer @glyphwright Since you all liked the post about how I had a first draft for this...uh...wanna read the whole fic?

[authortobenamedlater]

Of course in my not-smutty marriage AU for which I still must find a better name, this would be followed by Chyler telling Roland to stop flirting with her husband, then the two of them get into an argument. The subject of this conversation is wondering if he’s really listening to his wife and his ship’s AI fighting about him while he tries to clear coffee out of his sinuses.

…I am so unhinged.

@sarnakhwritesthings again just for visibility purposes

im not arguing with a man with brown eyes. whatever you say gorgeous

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Even though the last ask you sent me is languishing in my inbox 😆 11 from Angry Confessions for Tom/Chyler and “Being touch-starved and needy was really starting to mess with their reputation as a tough guy.” from Touch Starved Prompts for Fred/Kelly?

Well. I hadn't really expected these prompts to inspire full-fledged stories in my head, but they have. I mixed your Fred/Kelly prompt with another one from @makowrites here!

For the Tom/Chyler prompt, I'm now working on a one-shot to fill this too. But here's the most relevant excerpt.

“I’m fine, will you get off my case?” Tom winced. He hadn’t really meant to raise his voice. He had been listed officially dead for more than two days. Of course she was worried about him, and he had no right to expect her not to be. Chyler’s glare was powerful enough to make Tom feel distinctly glad that they were currently talking over a video call, not in person. “‘Get off your case?’” she seethed, her jaw clenching. “I swear, it would take an industrial crane to pull your head out of your…” she trailed off, clearly flustered. After taking a few deep breaths, she started again. “Someone has to act like they care whether you live or die, Tom.” “Why do you care?” he fired back, his temper flaring to match hers, reasonable or not. “It clearly isn’t doing you any favors.” The rage on Chyler’s face slowly subsided, turning into… something else. She lifted one shaking hand and rubbed it down her face and sighed forcefully. “Why do I care?” she asked, her voice quiet now. Her eyes seemed to be staring at some point over his left shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with him. “Can’t you see that I love you? That I always have?” Tom felt his jaw drop. Suddenly, he found himself feeling less like the hero the men outside were claiming he was. He felt like an absolute prat. “Chy…” “I have to go,” Chyler cut him off. “Congratulations on your miraculous survival, Lieutenant.” Then she was gone, leaving Tom with nothing to look at but his own reflection on the glossy wall. Tom dropped his head in his hands with a groan. “I love you too,” he murmured to no one in particular.

I'm really excited to finish this story. I think it'll be a lot of fun.

[stitchlingbelle]

Watching Halo, episode 1

Things I Know About Halo:

The Master Chief is a badass supersoldier who Doesn't Take Off His Helmet.* (I thought it had turned out he was a woman and the fan base rioted but apparently I mixed him up with Samus Aran?) There's a couple AI people, Roland the orange dude and Cortana the hot chick. There's a guy named Arbiter, I think he's an alien? Aliens destroy a lot of planets. There's some sort of mystical Old Ones leftover tech? (Is that the Halo part?) Names I have heard: Miranda Keyes, Dr. Halsey, Makee, Thomas Lasky, Chyler Silva**

That established, let's give this thing a go!

Nice opening scene. The costuming and set design are good, definitely have that Star Wars-esque vibe but are doing some of their own specific things that ground the world. The characters definitely gave you that lived-in-universe feel of established relationships and community right away. (Also I'm delighted by their use of Korean and their made-up alien language. Again, nice worldbuilding.) I am, however, confused. There's also an entire rebelling against the galactic empire thing going on? No one told me this. How do these people find the time with all the aliens?

Oh shit, THEY DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE ALIENS. Oh noooo.

The violence is really well done. The explosion plus blood splatter shot was great. Good use of camera work to minimize the more difficult to pull off FX shots while still getting the brutality across. The helmet-cam shots are a good storytelling choice while also being a fun nod to the games. I do not envy the stunt people fighting in these suits, though. They made them look powerful. They did not make them look dexterous, graceful or effectively designed for hand-to-hand combat.

Noooo they killed the little kid! ...and everybody else. Man, I liked those guys. Poor Kwan. (Is she in the games? Is she this ineffective? She was like, I'm going to help! and then just... didn't.) And then the Spartans just... walk off?

DO NOT TOUCH THE WEIRD ALIEN TECH. You're a Master Chief! I have it on good authority that keeping people from touching things they shouldn't is a major part of your job! Set a good example for your troops! Also, check your six.

It's Dr. Halsey! Mad scientist alert, this woman does NOT seem to adhere to ethical guidelines. Nice lab coat. I don't trust you. Why do you have a person in a pod? (Why do you have them right where your boss can see them if they're not supposed to exist?) Who's Miranda Keyes and why do you have beef with her? Departmental rivalry?

Wow, Miranda is a lot younger than I expected. Also, that was terrible. Take care of the girl, butter her up, THEN ask her for shit. And do it in person, the hologram thing was weird and off-putting. Not sure that Kwan thought this through-- there's a happy medium between agreeing to be their propaganda mouthpiece and openly threatening to lie and say they caused the massacre, sweetie.

Alien homeworld (or homebase, idk)-- very cool design, good effects-- why is there a human here? Oh, THIS is Makee? What is her deal? Great costuming.

HALSEY IS MIRANDA'S MOM??? Wtf. Also I like Miranda, I don't think she knows what she's doing outside of her (own) lab but it sounds like her heart's in the right place. Great parting shot at dad, but also, maybe that's why your parents worked (for however long. Are they still together or not?)

Great scene with Kwan and Master Chief over the meal. Humanize him with a joke and then WHAM, dead mom story. I like how they're not letting you assume that Madrigal's people were just wrong about the Spartans. Nope, straight up, this guy commits atrocities because he never questions his orders. (She implied that she was there? How did that part go down?) Fortunately teenagers question everything, especially orders! Just in time to make you question this one...

From here on out it's action action action, with a lot of quick character bits mixed in (Halsey and Captain Keyes exchanging looks, the Spartans all listening to Halsey above their orders, high command doesn't trust their own creations-- how many different ways of monitoring their own ships do they have? This is taking surveillance state to a whole new level.)

YAY for Kwan getting a useful moment! If human strength does not avail, use guns tools, that's what we invented them for. No, Kwan, this man does not have a plan. I'm kinda sad the alien artifact activated, it would have been entertaining to watch the other Spartans get involved. (John: "This is our new pet. No, we will not be handing her over to be executed. Yes, she hates us all for very specific valid personal reasons. Roll with it.") Aaaand off they go, escaping to where? Not sure they know and I, with approximately 1% knowledge of this universe, certainly do not.

Finally, hopping back to address the One True Issue that divides the fandom: the helmet scene. It depends on how much the Never Remove the Helmet thing is an irl game artistic choice vs an in-universe character choice. If it's not an actual THING for John-117 himself, then I don't have any problem with it. Different mediums and all that. If it's like the Mandalorian thing, then yeah, it felt a little rushed, but still a necessary moment for humanizing him and building trust ASAP with a hostile teenage girl with a gun.

In conclusion: this was much better than I was expecting! I really enjoyed it and will probably watch the rest of the season while I bake today. And honestly it's been so long since I watched scifi on TV that it was sort of nostalgic? I was just ridiculously pleased by things like establishing shots of Reach and futuristic teenager haircuts.

Thanks so much to ATBNL and @sarnakhwritesthings for talking me into this!

*Has anyone done a 'John-117 is a Mandalorian' crossover yet? Someone definitely has, right?

**The last two do not appear in the TV show and also one is dead, except they're actually alive and married because @authortobenamedlater is in charge here.