#like SAVE HIS ASS FROM THE HELL THAT IS STAR WARS

[hinderr]

Hello! not really much of a question (actually not a question at all) but I just wanted to let you know how much I love your fics. your ideas are just so good and I get so excited whenever you post updates. Okay actual question time: do you think that they would ever bring Moff Gideon back into the show (i mean we didn’t actually see a body) or do you think he’s done for good? (i don’t know if this is a question that you have ever answered before so sorry if it is)

HI ANON!! thank you so much omg that's so lovely to hear!! I'm glad you like my work mmmwaah <33

ok im gonna be honest i was SUPER not happy with s3 nor like. the way moff gideon died. on one hand I would NOT be surprised if he didn't die he's like evil jesus or whatever but on the other hand I REALLY HOPE HE DID. because I cant see them writing his character in any satisfying way anymore and seeing gideon's character be butchered like that would be too much for me I think.......its also like really stupid at this point with how many times he cheated death. 'oh he's dead- SIKE' can only work so many times (two at MAX). i love him to death honestly which is why I need him to die do u get me

[gojosprettyprincess]

❝​REPAYMENT​❝

Synopsis! - Oh no! What happens when the big, massive strong man that saved you during a very dangerous war, wants something from you in return for his bravery?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!reader

Warnings! - Dub-con, mentions of killing people, creampie, ass play, size kink, he stuffs his gloves in your mouth, he's possessive, mentions about keeping you with him. Dark content. this was kinda rushed so sorry for any errors!!

Art credits @umkochannart on twitter!

A/n - I NEED HIM, SOMEONE PLEASE

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Oh my— fuck! Sir, please we shouldn't be doing this, someone might see!” you stammered, legs trembling as your panties lazily pooled around your ankles. You mewled at the feeling of his hard, cold gear slapping against the mound of your ass, making the flesh ripple against his clothed pelvis. You keened as the wooden table dug into your stomach as you held onto the edge for dear life.

His cock was so thick and long—perfectly curved as it stretches open your tight, compressed walls to alter his girth. He grunts, feeling your tight little pussy eagerly fluttering around his invasive dick as you blabber on and on about your little worries about getting caught. Of course, you minded that a stranger man was destroying your pussy, but that was the least of your worries right now. The thought of getting caught and someone seeing your vulnerable self—almost naked, being pounded against a small table in the supply room by a big solider that's fully clothed, except for the crotch of his pants that's zipped down to free his aching cock, that's currently having your cunt drooling—making a mess all over his thick combat pants, made your mind hazy and your cunt throbbing in both excitement and frustration.

“Aww don't worry bout' that darling—I’ll just kill them for you so they won't say anything, will that be better?” he chuckles, his gloved hands digging into your hips as he deeply thrusts himself inside your dripping pussy relentlessly, fucking every single brain cell out of you. For someone who is “scared”, your pussy sure as hell was soaked and aroused.

He smirked under his skull mask at the feeling of your sweet pussy throbbing in tight circles around his cock to his words. “Oh? What a dirty little slut, does my talking about killing people make you horny? Such a sick little bitch, this pussy is clenching around me like it's fucking addicted to my cock, you a virgin, darling?”

Your eyebrows furred together at his sick wordings, you felt on the verge of losing your mind as the feeling of pure pleasure clouded your mind. “No, M’not!” you whimpered out, your tits grazing against the wooden table as your gushy pussy leaked all over his veiny shaft, every thrust had your pussy coating his cock even more with your filthy juices—as if you were enjoying it, or maybe you were?

“Oh yeah? Well, your cunt sure is fucking tight and warm—squeezing me so hard for someone that's a whore, whaddya say I keep you here and split open this little pussy whenever I feel like it?” he chuckles darkly, a huge palm slapping your bouncing ass as it jiggles against him, you moaned, tears prickling at your tear line as his thick, filled balls slaps against your poor clit, creating even more friction that had you seeing stars.

“No! Sir—can't, you promised you'll let me go after this!” you muttered, feeling so stuffed by the big man’s cock. “Shh, shhh I'm just joking with you doll” he laughs wickedly, perverted eyes moving down to where the two of you were lewdly connected. His eyes fixated on your other little neglected hole, which's already coated with some slick from your pussy. He eagerly pulled off one of his gloves and placed it on the table. You jolted unexpectedly when he stuffed a thumb deep into your mouth, he pressed his weighted chest onto your smaller back—getting closer to you as he whispered, “Get it all wet and lubed up, it's for your own good, darling”, you were confused and oblivious to what he'd be needing his thumb for but obeyed him anyways, not wanting to make the big man angry.

You whirled your tongue around his finger, making sure to get as much spit on it as possible. After, you hummed, letting him know that you were done. He pulled his finger out, sticky drips of spit coating him. Your eyes widen with fear when you felt his fat thumb circling your virgin asshole, he spreads the spit all over the shy, fluttering hole before sinking it in little by little. “Fuck! Sir—please be gentle, never had anything in there!” You yelled as you cried out in pain of your untouched hole getting stretched out. He quickly picked up his glove and shoved it into your mouth when there were footsteps heard thumping outside the room. “For heaven's sake, please shut the fuck up or I’ll really kill someone. I'm not joking darling. You’re mine now and I won't let other eyes see what's mine” he said in a stern tone. He hissed lowly at the feeling of your asshole swallowing his whole thumb in, all the way to the hilt.

“Such a tight little asshole, M’honored I’ll be the first one to break open this pretty ass”. Your muffled cries got louder as he pounded his hefty cock harder into your pussy, making it gushing all over him as he fucked out more and more juices out of your body. Soon the pain turned into pleasure as he started wiggling his thumb inside of you, feeling it exploring your tight walls. Your moan grew sweeter and more fucked out as you felt your orgasm washing over you—his huge cock tip nudging against your G-spot bullyingly, making your mind hazy. He felt it—felt the way your pussy grew more wetter and tighter around his length, taking him in all the way in as he pants. “Fuck darling are you gonna cum? Go on baby, you can cum, cum all over my cock, you slut”. He ordered, letting his thumb hooked into your butthole as he uses three other fingers to rub wet circles around your clit.

You moaned out, standing on your tippy toes as you clenched both holes tighter around him, making him hiss as you squirted all over him—your filthy mess splattering all over his uniform and gear as he fucks more and more juices out of your dirty pussy. He groaned loudly as you made a mess all over him—he never had someone squirting on him before, so it drove him fucking crazy. He lands slap after slap on your ass cheeks—making the flesh red as you whimpered. “Such a messy little whore, you really squirted on a random man you don't even know? You really are a little slut, I'm definitely keeping you darling” he laughs out, feeling his orgasm following him. “I’m gonna stuff this cute little pussy so full of my seed, gonna drain it so deep inside you baby, it'll come out your mouth” The whole room reeked of sex as he towered over you, his massive cock snugly engulfed by your little pussy, so tight and warm for him. He moans louder, splitting out a few curses as he pulled out his thumb out of your ass, making your little hole wink at him at the loss of his finger. He used both hands to grip your hips, holding you steady as he used your body as a little fuckdoll, manhandling your little body to meet his cock halfway as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

“No please! Sir not insi-” Too late, hot ropes of warm sticky cum spurted into your poor hole, filling it up as your eyes roll back. “Fuckkk, ohh fuckk yesss, such a good little cumslut for me” he moaned out with ecstasy as he emptied into your warm pussy—after so long.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he stilled himself into you. He bent over once again, his chest and gear touching your back as he whispered to you. “Don't worry sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you, will fucking kill anyone if they dare look in your direction. You'll be mine forever, pretty”.

[2nv-diary]

flightless bird(have i found you?) | part 1

ray | binary star hero x reader

rushed for a friend who has just passed. gushed over this game with her, so i thought it deserved to be out there. not proofread.

word count: 2,001

It's not like him to move without completing the picture from top to bottom first—plans A to Z listed, supposedly; he had so much time, after all. Every move he's imagined you'd make branches out to 26 different outcomes. He thinks it's enough. Who the hell reacts differently than more than about three possibilities?

You, apparently. You take him out. Make him realize the need of a plan AA. A plan AB. A plan AC. And so on and so forth. He needs more than 26 plans when it's about you. Absolute pain in his ass.

It's the burning sensation in his gut that he almost thinks you are Apollo instead of Icarus. Icarus is meant to chase after the god with wing of wax and feather, but the story must be incomplete like his plans because—

—You are Apollo instead, he figures. If he's speaking about power, you are possibly both. You are the one on the Earth that cannot follow him to the skies beyond—Icarus—and yet you are the one being chased and the one so hard to reach—Apollo.

And god, does he want to reach you.

Bedrock crumbles when penetrated by roots deep enough, but soil clings. Like a vice if compact enough, roots unable to escape—truly, who is the one benefitting? The root that digs deep onto unsurmising surface, or the soil that grabs onto roots to stay intact?

Mutual, at least. They both use each other. Both beneficial.

It's what he craves with you. Hero calling only to be your enemy the moment your eyes meet. His could turn red and melt even the most pressurized of diamonds over—but why did it not cut through layers of you?

So much left of you he does not know. He doesn't like it one bit. Even with all this planning, there's not much to write home about in his knowledge of you. It's embarrassingly—

—Useless; a mind reader that can't still know their goddamn target after countless encounters? He's such a novice. When he shouldn't be.

Icarus seems to have the upper hand. There isn't even an attempt to use the wings, he never uses it for the one time Ray absolutely needs him to. Figures it must be because Apollo could craft wings himself to Icarus—who's chasing who at his point?

Your eyes pierce at him again, but with no fault of your own. No recognition whatsoever, but he doesn't blame you. Years of searching you of course made him remember your eyes, but you haven't searched him once.

And the eyes you gaze upon in television have a ridiculous mask plastered before it. He can't blame you for not making the connection—he doesn't want you to, anyway. But it still stings. But at the same time, this is perfect for him.

A new start for his Icarus—

—Apollo coming down to meet him.

In the guise of mortality, not in the god-like glory, he makes the choice for you. Perhaps if the sun wasn't as scorching, would you, dearest Icarus, attempt to come near now?

—Of course he's not the sun. Sun-like, at best. A void that pulls forces. Devours. He keeps his sun-like stature to fool you. Pulls an Apollo to bring Icarus home. Binary pairs, forever revolving around each other.

So, no. He will not burn you. Instead, he will come to you, attraction pulling hard on his heartstrings.

Maybe it is you who deserves a hero title. You're saving this world by simply existing. You would save much more if you knew your power well, but he likes to keep his cards close.

So when his first move of check in poker comes in the form of a visit to the café you work at, you think the game is fair.

(And it is. All is fair in love and war.)

You think it's destiny—him catching you whenever you fall.

Catching. As if what made you stumble wasn't him in the first place.

Your skin colliding with his—nevermind his sweater's a layer he wishes wasn't in between the two of you—his limb feels like burning from the slightest touch.

Actor setting up his stage, you were lead actress in the dark of what is most likely his idea of love. Ray your love interest but only because that is the limit he allows. Cotton over your eyes lest you see the true number of choices you have.

And you have a lot. He can lessen those numbers, but even so, there is only so much pain in your expression that he can handle and put up with. As ruthless as he is, obviously he wants what makes you happy.

Because if you're happy, you'd want to stay. He doesn't have to plan—52 plans incase you ruin the first 26(you love making him overthink, don't you?)—if you're willing. If you want him.

Pliant, in your soft mattress. His is softer, branded luxury amongst other practical items he's bothered to buy with his money, but of course to hunt is to never rush.

He hates it when you're up and about. You go to places he can't really follow—mundane, you say, but if he argues it's not, then your suspicions raise. He can't have that. All that settles are crumbs instead—

—His name and number, appearing as if you'd scored them, slipped into your pockets. Stealthy, as if he hadn't thought multiple times of how and what if there weren't even any pockets on you. How embarrassing would that have been on his end?

Ray is different. Or so he thinks. He wants to know now what you think, thinking all his efforts should at least leave you guessing. (Sweet summer child. No experience in the ways of love, only ever transactional relationships and it shows.) He's like a cat. Dropping the most vague of hints and hoping it spells out "we're soulmates—trust.".

So when the silence stretches longer than he would have liked(merely a week; for a stranger, he sure does not know how long buildup takes), he finds you.

Under his attempt of playing Apollo, you also play Icarus perfectly. Such versatility—or perhaps duality—you have, perched by the large advertisment of him plastered over the city. In gold and glitter, Ray is adorned in all that glimmers for the one interview he remembers.

The one interview that matters. A show that he so wishes you would bear witness to, and it is the perfect moment right now that he also witnesses you watch it himself. All his luck(should he believe in such a concept) has pooled its chances for today.

Ray made sure you would encounter this interview one way or another. If not from the billboard—though he argues that that alone is a hard feat to ignore—then from magazines. Surely your eyes will drift towards him—an image, at least, coincidentally. Be it in stores you pass by or it being read by a civillian before you.

He is well loved, after all.

(Well, Binary Star is.)

In that interview he calls out to you. In words he knows will stir a reaction from you, no matter how the meaning is twisted it still means something that involves you.

He will have you. The world already knows, and so should you.

--

"I work law enforcement, remember?" are the first reasons he throws at you when he arrives at the café first thing after work.

Work. His job doesn't have set hours like you do(as much as he likes to have some. Would really do him good to just... not be the one the world needs for maybe fourteen hours like everyone else) so it was either he heals up and shows nothing as incentive to you, or—

—His job might as well mean a good thing for him, your lovely face scrunched to focus on bandaging him with what supplies your workplace has. He loves the sight of you so close, your worry doing wonders for his wounds(that he could so easily patch up himself or even heal. Bastard even knows it's not going to get infected or get him to bleed out.)

Sparkling little starlight of his, burning bright even without meaning to. He's meant it when he said he doesn't feel the pain no matter how many times you check.

The antiseptic stings. The blood loss lightens his grip on reality. The presses on marred flesh would make a grown man burst into tears. But he's meant to make up for the days he hasn't visited—damned world needed saving, he's been pulled away from you.

Apollo, needed by devout men and women falling to their doom. Ray's mind roars back that their impending downfall is their own making—humanity always fucks around and finds out(it's the point of history, and yet it spirals and people still call them coincidences. Not like Ray expects them to learn.)

All this trouble, yet the one whose touch he needs is yet too far away. Icarus, still not making use of his wings.

Does he knows his bone and flesh will melt upon leaving his habitat to join Apollo? Ray hopes on Icarus' naivety, then.

If not to be the hero he once wanted to be(symbol of justice—but what is just, anyway? when it turns out to be a hero is but a mere puppet on strings that all circle back to the goddamn government?), then if only he could just be your hero. Can't you let him do that for you(himself, really)?

"Being good at your job doesn't mean you're invincible," You retort in concern. "And even if you were invincible, you'd think you'd at least take care if just for the sake of those that worry over you."

Ray finds you adorable—cute barista cleaning him up instead of cleaning up shop, her main job—but it's within said job that he's reminded you're not alone.

"See, some people would drag that to the hospital than to a café." Your coworker Haley makes their presence known.

"Sorry, Hal. I'll replace the supplies myself." You don't realize that's not the issue, but Ray doesn't want to tell you what is. Seems neither does Haley.

"'s fine. Those were about to expire, anyway." They shrug, words meant to have Ray wince were he an ordinary man.

Luckily for him, he doesn't need to do his version of cleanup on the café. (Lucky for Haley, too. Ray would hate for this charade—scene to end, curtains fall to a close, credits roll—to move if he does clean up starting with Haley. Where would you work, then?)

--

Caffeine could almost replace the blood in his veins with how often Ray drinks coffee. Black, too? No man can handle that frequency without palpitating towards an early grave.

You say so too when you pour him a cup in your tiny apartment, making up for when he carried your groceries home. When he'd worried to hell and back when all he'd seen in those bags were instant foods—let him take care of you. He wants so badly to offer.

"I don't know how you can live with absolutely zero sugar or cream," You murmur against the rim of your own cup. Foam of marshmallow clinging to your lips, only making you even more adorable in Ray's eyes, something he didn't know was even possible.

"Some of us don't actually want diabetes. Shocking, I know." He rolls his eyes. A poor attempt in his eyes to appear uninterested. Surely you and anyone under the sun knows his attraction to you. You're his weakness, as painstaking as it is to admit.

He hopes you are never one day the thing that crutches him. The one thing that he will lose for, and the world will know—

—Binary Star isn't actually the most powerful—you are.

(Apollo to his Icarus.)

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being another displaced Padawan with Cal Kestis

Cal Kestis x jedi!reader

warnings: angst, STAR WARS JEDI SURVIVOR SPOILERS

a/n:

prompt:

you and cal went way back

like, jedi padawan back

so after the purge, about five years later, you guys reunited by chance. thanks to cere junda, no less

and, god, seeing someone so familiar after trying to get by on your own, someone who knew the feeling of the trajectory of your life being thrown off before you were ready, that wasn’t easy to come by

“you’re here” -cal

“i’m here” -you

“we survived” -cal

“just barely” -you

cere was delighted that the two of you could have lifted each other’s spirits so much, which was very much needed in desperate times, as you two were just given a very important mission by a former jedi master in your order

you and cal kicked some serious ass together, helping one another relearn old lessons your masters had taught during your youth

“i think running across walls was the hardest thing i was ever taught” -you

“it took me forever to get that right! i could only get two steps in before i plummeted to the floor!” -cal

you shared a lot of stories and emotions during travels, in private

and not all of them were positive, but this was the first chance you’d had in five years to face these emotions, to air out your feelings

“do you miss the clones? i was so fond of our battalion, they were always so kind to me” -you

“i think…i think that was the worst part. the people who defended us in battle, gave me pep talks before training, always there, that same face at every turn suddenly behind the blaster that was meant to put me down” -cal

“i miss them” -you

cal and you had your missions together…and separately. you’d be on one planet and he on the other, trying to race the empire and inquisitors to the holocron

“it could happen all over again” -you

“it could be the key to saving the galaxy” -cal

“or we’d be creating a generational tragedy” -you

“so would the empire” -cal

“you’ve got me there” -you

cal gifting you ponchos from his travels (lol)

“any chance you like pink?” -cal

“well…” -you

braving zeffo alone while you knew cal was somewhere far more dangerous, you had a bad feeling about it

but your teachings from the order were always the same, no attachment. mission first, feelings second…no, last

but on cal’s adventure, he found merrin, a nightsister from dathomir

you hadn’t seen any nightsisters since ventress, which did happen to make you feel a bit off

“cal…you sure?” -you

“trust me, y/n. things have changed. merrin is just like us” -cal

“cal told me much about you. another survivor. a pleasure” -merrin

you and merrin grew quite close actually

she was truly spectacular, and swapping stories with her was sort of educational

“wait…the jedi responsible for the nightsister genocide? you said lightsabers, plural? how many?” -you

“four” -merrin

“two green, two blue?” -you

“precisely. how did you know?” -merrin

“hang on, no way—” -cal

“my master killed him shortly before we were split up…when the clones turned” -you

“grevious? really? master kenobi finally got him?” -cal

“who is this ‘grevious?’” -merrin

“general grevious, he was a separatist general—a cyborg. he wasn’t a jedi, he stole lightsabers from his kills. he ordered the attack on your home” -cal

“i’m so sorry, merrin” -you

you three were still healing from many scars, but doing it together was much more achievable than trying alone

it was a wonder you even made it to fortress inquisitorius

you, cal, cere. all three of you fought like hell to save those kids.

now, cal and you, you two had much different perspectives than say, cere or trilla

displaced padawans. little guidance. cal was barely old enough to even be a padawan learner, but times were desperate and the order called upon the youngling to start quite early. you were in a similar boat. it made you two see eye to eye better than most

trilla, a padawan with much more training and insight, one who was failed by the order that she was most loyal to. failed by her own master.

cere, a devout jedi master who failed many people who were counting on her. who lost herself to a side of herself that every jedi is supposed to fight.

and just before any resolution could come of all of you together, the famed and feared darth vader showed himself

and the sinking feeling you felt before he arrived froze you

“what is it, y/n? y/n?” -cere

*ominous breathing sounds*

you shook off the feeling, fleeing instead

cal and you were split up when you swore vader made a point to hold you back

“run cal! get out of here!” -you

“y/n l/n, i was hoping i would see you” -vader “where is obi-wan?!”

“i thought you were dead” -you

“is that what he told you?” -vader

“you’re going to kill me to get back at him? i haven’t seen him since the purge, anakin! i left!” -you

“there is no anakin!” -vader “did you leave, or did he leave you?”

“are you just going to let cal get away?” -you

“he can’t get far” -vader

“my journey is not important to you” -you

“you are like me, y/n. obi-wan failed us. these inquisitors are weak, impressionable, disposable. but i know how you think. i know how he thinks. i give you the opportunity to join me. fight with me.” -vader

“i saw the holotapes, anakin. i saw what you did to the younglings and i will not let you do it again. we are not alike, obi-wan did not fail me. i took a page out of ahsoka’s book, i found my own path. and it is not beside you.” -you

“this is not over, y/n. i trust you’ll find your way out” -vader, force pushing you off a ledge

you did find you way back out and merrin was quick to save you before going back for cal

you were left completely unharmed, as well, which was quite the surprise to everyone else

“what happened back there, y/n?” -cal

“nothing i’d like to relive” -you

cal nodded and let it go, focusing on the holocron floating before you all

your mind kept replaying memories as they discussed what to do with it

memories of anakin’s massacre. vader’s speech. younglings you couldn’t save. luke and leia somewhere across the galaxy. the inquisitors.

“destroy it.” -you

in one quick swipe, cal took his lightsaber to the glowing blue cube. no questions asked

and from there on, it was no longer about the order. you remembered why you left in the first place. the purge, the politics, your master couldn’t contain himself. your troops turned their blasters on you. everything you were taught was bantha fodder. and you were just a padawan

it was now about disassembling. scaring the people in power while giving the little guy some hope.

“this is a much better gig than obi-wan playing by the rules” -you

“from what you told me, him and anakin never played by the rules” -cal

the name made you shudder, but you pushed past it

“well, anakin was known as the rulebreaker. obi-wan always tried to reel him in. but, i’ve noticed a rule or two that master kenobi had bent” -you

“anakin has a padawan too, right?” -cal

“he did. she was also a rule breaker. when she left the order, i almost followed her. last i heard, she went to mandalore with half of the 501st. i, uh—” -you

“right…” -cal

you were still haunted from the encounter on nurr. still hadn’t told cal and it was eating you up inside.

but the fighting made it feel better

dismantling, stealing, helping

and then merrin left. and cere. and greez settled down. and you and cal were just two makeshift jedi knights with your tragic pasts and your need to keep your place in the galaxy

and keep each other close

but not too close

those rules you followed, the one’s obi-wan followed, you threw them out a long time ago. the jedi order was corrupt. you examined each council master postmortem and decided that they were all flawed despite their rank. you hated them for it.

but decided the one teaching you would follow would be to lose hate, a step to the dark side.

you didn’t really even know at this point, what was the difference between right and wrong anymore

cal and you continued fighting. joined up with saw gerrera. never left each other’s sides

which…sparked feelings you’d never really been taught or told how to deal with

only aversion, really. but it wasn’t like you didn’t really talk about it

“i don’t really see the problem with it. look at everything else we do, that’s not exactly the jedi way” -you

“it’s dangerous” -cal

“love is dangerous?” -you

“attachment is” -cal

“i figured you already had attachments. we were all a crew before this” -you

“i let them all go” -cal

“and you’d let me go?” -you

you began constantly questioning these ways and trying to fight for a new future with cal, without pressing too hard

but it was hard to ignore those feelings and harder to constantly be denied by your old life

and it was harder when the new crew always teased you two

“come on, kestis. if you don’t, i will” -gabs

“yeah, just go for it. who’s it hurting?” -bravo

“i’m just not ready to go there” -cal

you were more bothered than you let on

but you always put the mission first

up until your trip back to coruscant

“this is just a reminder of how little it all matters now. there’s no one left.” -you

“that’s why it matters” -cal

the intensity of this mission made it so it was just the two of you again

and maybe that would spark something…but you doubted it

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[eureka-its-zico]

A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.

Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad. 

Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart. 

There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary. 

Vital. 

So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance. 

Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.

“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”

Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over. 

“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”

Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help. 

“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”

Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”

“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”

Honesty. 

Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day. 

Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer.  If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave. 

“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”

“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”

More cryptics. More hoops. 

A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.

Halsey needed him. 

“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it. 

“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“

“Yes, I know.”

“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”

Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well. 

Halsey had found something. Really found something. 

“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”

“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“

“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”

No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it. 

“Go ahead.”

Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way. 

Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code. 

“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“

“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her. 

“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”

“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”

Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot. 

“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”

In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated. 

“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”

With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands. 

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you. 

“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”

“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him. 

It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up. 

“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”

A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away. 

“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”

Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away. 

“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”

“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”

You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns. 

Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal. 

All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win. 

A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets. 

Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky. 

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point. 

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”

Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty. 

“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”

“I was only saying-“

“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or  place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood. 

You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman. 

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat. 

I Should’ve been softer…

You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you. 

It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment. 

Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close. 

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”

“A major asshole.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”

“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this.  Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company. 

“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance. 

You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form. 

The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel. 

It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline. 

“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head. 

“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”

“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.” 

“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”

One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited. 

You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence. 

“Is it true that you were born like that?”

His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives. 

You were supposed to be a lucky one. 

One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world. 

“Yes.”

You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born. 

————

The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.

You were an anomaly. 

Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left. 

Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony. 

With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard. 

The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills. 

Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale. 

It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak. 

“Thao, can you come play?” 

“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”

A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over. 

“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”

You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you. 

“Are you sure? Caster -“

“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.” 

He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him. 

You didn’t waste any more  time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers. 

You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’. 

As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass. 

“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”

With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew. 

“Where’s Thao?”

“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”

“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”

Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit. 

“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”

“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”

Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation. 

One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened. 

You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter. 

“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”

You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him. 

Could you have gone around? 

Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared. 

It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut. 

Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather. 

“And where did you run off to this morning?” 

You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.

“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”

“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned. 

The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning. 

“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”

Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named. 

Either that or joining the resistance. 

“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”

A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him. 

“And there it is.”

The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention. 

“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“

“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent. 

“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”

“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”

“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”

“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“

You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut. 

“Enough!” 

Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name. 

“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned. 

“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”

You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins. 

It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything. 

“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“

“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”

“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls. 

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later. 

You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle. 

This was a kill zone. 

Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle. 

If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed - 

“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”

“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”

Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground. 

You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay. 

It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome. 

“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”

“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward. 

He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes. 

“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”

Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan. 

“And you are?”

“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”

Liar! 

The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence. 

Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit. 

“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”

“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.” 

Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time. 

Except this time - no…NO! 

It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of. 

“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”

Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it. 

“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”

Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him. 

“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”

“What are you doing?”

You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather. 

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste. 

“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”

It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed. 

But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward. 

“No!”

He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”

“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped. 

You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie. 

“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“

“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”

You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame. 

A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.

The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see. 

With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you. 

There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue. 

“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”

A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They  must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie. 

Except that wasn’t what happened. 

The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him. 

“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”

You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told. 

The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.

You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back. 

“Riz!”

You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball. 

It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt. 

As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan. 

You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon. 

“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality. 

“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”

Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you. 

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”

“No.” 

You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”

“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”

But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest. 

Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him. 

None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain. 

The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather. 

The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect. 

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it. 

This Dr. Halsey. 

False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low. 

“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”

The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe. 

Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage. 

Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next. 

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.” 

Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather,  and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back. 

It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.

It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth. 

“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”

For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 -  helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.

_________

You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.

The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him,  had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious. 

You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside  your grandfather's gut. 

No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life. 

No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact. 

A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor. 

As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back. 

When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while. 

You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking. 

She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in. 

“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”

Subject Cobalt? 

Was that supposed to be you?

You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it. 

A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you. 

“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked. 

“Okay.”

That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils. 

“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat. 

You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question. 

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it. 

“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”

“No.”

The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit. 

“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“

“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”

She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t. 

“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”

She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for. 

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back. 

The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step. 

“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab  from Reach or Illium?”

“Reach.”

The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect. 

Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy. 

You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.

“Why would we kill you?”

You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.

“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”

“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”

“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”

“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”

“What program?”

You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed. 

“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”

UNSC propaganda. 

That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head. 

“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”

“John.”

Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin. 

In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take. 

“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”

Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.

Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing. 

Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind. 

You didn’t understand until you did. 

You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child. 

“What is this?”

Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?

“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”

“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”

You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful. 

“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.” 

Gone. 

Gone. 

Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage. 

“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”

Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed. 

When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke. 

“What do you need me to do?”

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

[denzelhart]

His delighted star (1)

Summary: You get sent on a mission, it ends successfully but the place where the mission took place is too far away from base. While staying on the helicopter, waiting to land. You start thinking about your relationship between you and your Lieutenant, Ghost.

Warning: Swearing, slow burn (maybe?) deny feelings, a little fluff, you have a friend name Tobas, reader has no pronouns.

- C/n: Code name

Wordcount: 1.1k

Note: This is a male reader fic but can be read as gender neutral! There maybe some error grammar because this is my first time writing this, hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Male!reader

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Many hours had passed since you and your team got onto the helicopter, you weren't aware of the time or when you'll land. But you know it won't be soon, especially when the place where the mission's located is very far from base. It's a pain in the ass.

The mission was simple, there weren't many enemies left out there due to C/n's teammate taking good care of them, Ghost. Well, the name "teammate" doesn't suit what's going on between the two people, when your relationship is far more complicated than you think.

Neither of you two was a person who likes physical contact, especially Ghost. You don't know anything about that man which got you curious about him, only hearing about some rumors from other people wasn't enough, when you 'accidentally' look at his files and get scolded later from captain Price. Yet with all the information you think you have about the man with a skull face? Still nothing. Ghost was a mysterious man and he sometimes scared you. That's what you thought when you first saw him.

The day you save him from an enemy, he starts to acknowledge you as an 'acquaintance' or 'companion' after a few months, which makes you two hang out more often. It wouldn't be rare seeing you together. Practicing gunshot? Right next to him, making some coffee? You always make an extra cup for him,.. Everything was great and even Price was happy to see Ghost had a companion aside from Soap. Until it didn't go well, as a person like Ghost who doesn't into much affection or physical contact. At first it only starts with the shoulders touching, thighs, sometimes hands. You thought it was only coincident, Oh boy it didn't just stay as 'coincident' which to the point Soap starts to get suspicious between the two of you. Like, who doesn't get curious about you and him? The two of you always hang out with each other and sometimes get a 'little' touchy. On the other hand you don't feel anything about those touches right? It's just a feeling, it'll go away someday. Oh you were wrong, not only did it not go away but it grew even more.

You weren't into physical contact due to your past trauma caused by your 'beloved' father, which led to you startle whenever Ghost touched you or even praised you. Make things more complicated. But from time to time you get used to it and eventually you start to like it and the things that happen between C/n and Ghost. You like it so much, it begins to consider your relationship.

"Fucking hell, there's nothing happening between me and him." You argued with your friend, Tobas. "That's some bullshit, C/n. You do know that right?" Yes, you do know about it and you do know it's bullshit but you're still denying it. All you do is give him the silent treatment.

"Cut the bullshit C/n, do you have feelings for him, mate?" he looks over to his friend, watching C/n busy as you are cleaning up your knife but deep down inside you know you have tried to avoid that question from Tobas. "I don't know! I'm not supposed to have feelings for my Lieutenant, mate." You denied looking over to Tobas, you knew you were right at this point. You shouldn't have feelings for anyone, you're afraid of opening up for a new relationship knowing it will end like your last one, you're afraid that war will take someone you loved away from you, afraid it'll take him away, Ghost.

It's hit you, you do have feelings for your Lieutenant but all you do is keep denying it because you know well how it ends. Pushing it down is the best option you can do. "Damn, you're right." You mumbled. "What was that?" Just when C/n about to say something but was interrupted by a voice, you know damn well who the voice is.

"You two cut it out, I'm not going to deal with you too again." Oh it's Ghost, the man you just talked about a few minutes ago now is standing right in front of you. Glanced at you and your friend like a predator. "Sorry, sir." Both of you said. “Now get up, there’s a mission we need to deal with right now.” He scolds, as you and Tobas quickly get up so you can get ready for the mission, walk away from the place you just sat down. But you didn't catch the way Ghost's eyes watching over you walking away.

That's the last conversation you have before going on the mission.

Now you’re on the helicopter, not knowing when it will land. Your back is going to kill you one day for sitting too long until someone slightly nudged your arm, it was Tobas. “Oi mate, he’s been staring at you for like an hour” he whispered, you didn't say anything. You move your gaze a bit to make sure Tobas didn't make things up, only to find Ghost's eyes already glance at you. His gaze is still like the first time you have met but it's more soft than before and more.. lonely.

"I know, quit staring at him or he'll be in your sleep." you chuckled a bit, looking away from Ghost's gaze while Tobas nudged you again. Another silent in the helicopter, not knowing what to say or to do because the team was already tired. Just when you're ready to close your eyes, another nudges your arm again to get your attention. "Hey C/n, look outside." Tobas laughs a bit at your confused face. Again, you look outside the window wondering the hell Tobas is talking about and there it is. Star in the night sky.

You liked watching stars when you were little, always watching it from afar but the more you grew the less time watching it. Now you gotta see it again, gazing at stars outside the window. Wondering when was the last time you have watched them.

Ghost has watched you since the team finished the mission, now his gaze has softened when looking at a happy C/n. He has seen your happy face with the team before but not this one, it's different. It's more precious. Knowing how the war has done to you or the trauma you have been through. Your smile still looks delighted to him.

"Get ready, we're landing."

That's what Ghost heard before got a pat on the shoulders by Soap. "Y'all like C/n? Just curious of how you look at C/n." Ghost stares at Soap for while. "No"

Ghost knows damn well that's a lie.

To be continued..?

[x-reader-things]

Omg hi!

I saw that you wrote for star wars rebels and thought that this was my shot!

Could i get an imagine of where Ezra has a partner(non binary reader) and they get captured after a big fight, and when they come to save them they are EXTREMELY hurt, like, burn scars, black eyes, cuts littered everywhere on their body, and how he would react along with the other ghost crew and a week or so after ish?

The ghost crew is platonic btw, but i don't know if i want Ezra romantic? Just fluff and cuddles and a really worried Ezra :)

Feel free to ignore this and remember to take care of yourself!

This one got carried away from me ty for requesting this, oml-

It was really fun to write it- I literally stayed up until 4 : 30 something or 4 : 40 something writing most of it, got 3 hours of sleep, and began to write it again I love this piece sm-

Sorry for the long wait too, and I hope you remember to take care of yourself as well!! And if this isn’t exactly how you imagined it I apologize as well, but still, I hope you enjoy!!

“—Builds character, apparently.”

The Ghost Crew x Reader [Platonic], Ezra Bridger x Reader [Romantic, mostly - recently established relationship]

Summary ; In which you get captured and tortured after a… lovely argument with your partner. Only to be found and brought back home a week later. Fun times.

Requested? ; Yes

Warnings ; reader get’s tortured, descriptions of violence [not too graphic], injuries, anxiety - typical canon violence for Star Wars Rebels and Star Wars in general. Also not much of a warning but touch starved Ezra!! I love him sm- also hurt comfort things too-

Word Count ; 6.6 k [my longest one so far- :00]

——————————————————————

Thinking back on it now, the argument was so small. So trivial.

So… Minimal.

Compared to now, that is. It was just a stupid thing blown out of proportions. A stupid little spat that you got in with your partner, Ezra.

Well, it’s not that stupid.

It was about him using the damn Sith holocron to get stronger. You didn’t mind that he was using it at first, sure. It helped him. Especially after what happened to Kanan. Kept him calm. Kept him strong. Kept him believing in the Force.

After all, in your minds eye, Sith and Jedi were really just two sides of the same coin.

It didn’t make too much of a difference to you, besides in methods of how each group manipulated their abilities they got from the Force, respectively.

But now, a couple years since then - and about a few months into… whatever your relationship turned out to be - he was depending on it too much. He was taking it’s teachings to the next level, which in turn made him more powerful. Which was a good thing, in some cases. It saved your asses more times than you could count, recently.

But Ezra was… much, much angrier than before.

Power hungry, almost.

And after Kanan found out he was using it - all because Ezra was dumb enough not to hide it quickly or put it away, and too oblivious at that point to even sense that Kanan was literally at his cabin door - Ezra rounded at you.

Blamed you for Kanan figuring it out. Blamed you for spilling his secrets. Blamed you for Kanan getting angry at him for his decision.

And you knew he wouldn’t actually say those things if he was really himself. You knew that he was beginning to get corrupted by that red pyramid of a holocron. You knew he was literally losing nights sleep due to nightmares, which made him more paranoid and skeptical about everything.

But damn, if it didn’t hurt like hell and make you even angrier than he was at that point.

You snapped at him. Told him you kept his secret from everyone. Told him you’d never, ever, spill any secrets of his or anyone else’s, even if you were being tortured for the truth. And you told him that you couldn’t believe he’d even accuse you for such a thing as that. You blamed the holocron, even took Kanan’s side for it - something you rarely ever did when it came down to Ezra unless of it was something serious - saying that Ezra’s gotten angry.

Too angry.

And you honestly didn’t really think you could handle it anymore. Or him in general, for that moment. So you left. Before he had anything else to say, and before he snapped out of that stunned daze that stared right into your eyes, almost completely disbelieving into the very depths of your soul. It was a heat of the moment kind of anger that made you do such a thing.

You offhandedly mumbled something about a mission you had to get to anyways, just as you quickly walked away from him, glare set on your face, hardening any kind of other emotion that threatened to come pouring out of your eyes (stars, you hated angry tears).

All of which happened about a week prior to where you were now.

Starving in a jail cell.

An imperial jail cell, locked away from everyone and everything.

—————————————

Another cough racked out of you, a wheeze accompanying it. You must have a cracked rib or something. Karabast, everything burned.

The mission you went on was supposed to take a couple days. And Hera gave it to you as a solo-operation. You needed it anyways, to cool off from the heated and stinging argument you had with Ezra before leaving.

It was simply get a few supply crates for medical purposes for the fleet. With how big the supply crates were, it should last the fleet about half a year at most - a few months at the very least. And honestly, the fleet could take anything it can get, at this point.

The crates were located in between the planets of Batonn and Denash, two planets in the Batonn sector.

You were warned to be careful. Earlier that year all three planets in that sector were taken back over by Grand Admiral Thrawn - some guy you’ve only recently heard of through transmissions from Fulcrum in the past few months - during the Batonn sector insurgency. You would be able to cloak one of the Phoenix squadron ships (since the Phantom would be in use for another mission at the time) so you wouldn’t be able to be detected by any of the imperials, or any of the imperial fleet, there.

Once cloaked, a secret message would be transmitted to you via a comm channel that only you and the disguised transporter would know about, in order to make the exchange for the medical crates. All hidden behind a few of the moons that orbited between both Batonn and Denash.

And you were careful.

At least, you were.

Clearly, the other disguised transporter wasn’t, and the plan was found out a little too late for you to realize that - especially a good few minutes after being bombarded by heavy blaster fire from the imperial fleet’s artillery. You’d think you’d realize that the moment you didn’t see the medical crates outside and connected to the transporter for an easy attachment pick-up, but no. You just had to give them the benefit of the doubt, didn’t you?

And now, here you were.

A week later.

Severely burned, bruised, and dehydrated.

And yet still somehow keeping a level head.

At least. You think.

“I told you, I have nothing to tell you.”, you spat between ragged breaths, another stick of something electric being shoved into your side again. You grit yourself teeth and strained, keeping your groaning and screaming to a minimum. You learned pretty quickly that running your vocal cords raw weren’t going to do you any good like that. Despite having to repeat yourself over and over to the imperial scum in front of you that you literally didn’t know a damn thing about what they wanted to hear from you.

Something something, plans for Lothal and it’s liberation (terrorist attack, which is what the Empire called it), and other boring stuff like where was the other rebels.

Now obviously, you weren’t going to just hand over the second part of their questions on a silver platter that easily. You never would. Not even if someone tried using the Force to get you to spit it out. You wouldn’t reveal that integral part of information, no. That’s where your friends were, that’s where your family lived, that’s where Ezra was.

You sure as hell weren’t going to give them that information for their satisfaction.

As for the first part of their questions, however, you legitimately didn’t know anything about it.

Sure, you’ve heard talks of it. Plans of getting together to actually plan it out, once the fleet was big enough. But you didn’t know specifics. After those couple of things, your knowledge of the subject was dwindled down to just some things you heard in passing conversations back at Chopper base. That was it.

And clearly, for the past longest week ever, the imperials didn’t believe you when you told them that truth.

That it wasn’t even fully planned. That they had nothing to worry about (yet). That you didn’t know anything.

A gloved hand lurched up and roughly grabbed your jaw, digging into the ever worsening bruises that littered your jaw and cheeks, forcing you to look at whoever it was. Through the swelling of your black eye that’s been getting worse for the past couple of days, all you could see was the blurry outline of the same soldier that always questioned you, looked at you and hurt you like you were the scum of the galaxy.

“The more you lie, the worse this gets”, he sneered, another jabs of burning and electricity stinging through you at his words. He shoved your face to the side as he let go of you, your head smacking into the metal slab that held you up and kept you captive in this horrific torture machine.

Another strained noise tickled the back of your throat. Another whimper of pain that you stifled to keep your sanity. At the very least, you could do whatever Ezra taught you to do best.

Annoy the hell out of these bucket heads.

“What’s that saying about insanity? Oh right”, you coughed before wheezing out a bit of forced laughter, a smirk forming over your mouth, irritating the cut lower lip that was beginning to scab over. “If - if you do something over and over again, and continuously get the same results, that makes you insane. And uh - buddy it’s been about a week, hasn’t it? You haven’t gotten anywhere—“

The restraints were unclipped from your wrists and ankles. Confusion wracked your mind before a hand grabbed at your neck and forced you back harshly on the metal slab. That time, you couldn’t stop the loud shout that sprang out from you at the sudden movements.

“Wha—“, you grunted before you can even squeeze out a sentence, a strong fist connected with your abdomen, making all the airbrush out of you at the action. You couldn’t even begin to process the pain you were in besides the electrical burns. The adrenaline and the numbness to it at that point was still ringing true in every nerve in your body.

Before the imperial soldier could even land another hit on you, or another burn, the hilt of a Lasan Bo-rifle hit the back of them at a pressure point, instantly knocking them out.

Wait.

Bo-rifle from Lasan?

You coughed and wheezed for more air the moment the soldier let go of your reddening neck and smacked onto the ground, and you were even firmly planted on the ground yet, or strapped down onto anything. So you were about to smack onto the ground yourself when you found no energy within you to keep yourself there. Gravity acted too fast on you.

“Woah, easy there kid—“, a rough voice sounded, almost distant in your ears, until a couple of purple furred hands caught you before you fell, steadying you on your shaky feet. “You alright there?”

“Zeb?”, you croaked out, looking up and squinting at who caught you. Purple fur, blurry yellow eyes, some semblance of a scowl - yep that was Zeb.

Once Zeb got a proper look at you, he grimaced with a flinch. “Oh - Karabast, kid, what did they do to you?!”

Burn marks everywhere, bruises everywhere, scratches everywhere, rips in clothing, tattered, messy hair, more sunken eyes than usual, looking dryer and skinnier. Karabast, you look worse for wear.

“Oh, yknow”, you chucked wryly, still keeping up the act of being as calm as you could. “A bit of torture, a bit of starvation and dehydration - builds character, apparently.” Zeb rolled his eyes, brow furrowed in something a lot less like annoyance and much more like worry.

Odd, you think. It’s only been a week since you were kidnapped. How worried could they have gotten?

“Spectre-4 to Spectre-2, come in.”, Zeb said immediately into the comm.

“Specter-2 to Spectre-4, Whaddya got for me, Zeb?”, answered the crackling voice of Hera on the other end, a faint sound of blaster fire behind her somewhere.

“I found them, I found Spectre-7”, Zeb said immediately into the comm.

“YOU FOUND THEM?” , came a chorus of four other voices loudly into the comms, along with the surprisingly relieved beeps of Chopper. You and Zeb flinched at the sound. Your ears weren’t as sensitive as the Lasat’s were, but damn if that sudden noise didn’t make you flinch.

Your’s and Zeb’s shared reaction caused him to look back at you as opposed to the comm in his other hand. One arm was held onto one of your biceps, which was one of the only thing keeping you from falling next to the puffer-pig dung heap on the floor. You were so much lighter than before. That was not a good sign.

“They’re not lookin’ so good.”, he said honestly, swiveling his head around just in case of any stray stormtrooper coming your guys’ way. No one answered back right away. At least, that’s why you and Zeb thought.

Comms shorted for a second.

Imperials know they’re there, trying to get you back, trying to cut off communications with one another.

“Zeb”, came another voice. Younger than Hera’s, definitely not either of the other guys. Sabine, you guessed, mind still swirling from the burning feeling of the metal, electrifying rods being stabbed into your sides, just enough to cause burns rather than cuts in the skin. “ZEB!”

Zeb exclaimed in irritation at the loud and sudden noise of the comms crackling back, deciding best that it probably wasn’t a good idea to just sit and wait for the others to find you two while under blaster fire. “WHAT!? What is it—!?”

“Talk to me, Orrelios, how bad are they??”, urged Sabine, seemingly referring to your injuries.

You grunted at the sudden lurch of being pulled into the hallway by Zeb, stumbling over your shaking feet as he didn’t stop for a second, even at the sounds of your own discomfort, the ones you wanted to keep at bay for a while now.

The lasat pulled you aside into an empty corridor once the blaster fire began to reach you guys. With a sigh of irritation, he picked you up from your knees and held you up - almost like a kid, which you still kind of were to some degree to him - and spoke into the comms once again. You laid your head on his shoulder with a groan and a wheeze, earning another concerned side-eyed glance from Zeb.

“Look, you’ll see them when we get back to the rendezvous point, just get there, got it!?” He said sharply into the comm, shoving it back into its place on his belt.

After that, conversations on the comms were just crackles and buzzes of the other members quickly trying to communicate with one another, blaster fire covering the most of it up, along with your hands at your ears. It was all just a blur at that point, really.

—————————————

Just before reaching the rendezvous point that was agreed upon, Zeb let you down to your feet again, still keeping a stabilized hand on your shoulder as you walked - hobbled, really - over to where the rendezvous was. He figured you didn’t want anyone to see that he carried you here like a child all the way there from that corridor. Karabast, you even vocalized that.

“Tell anyone you carried me like a kid and I will steal all of your snack rations from the extra food we found, got it?”, you slurred out, arm loosely wrapped around your middle as you heave a coarse cough afterwards, still trying to recover from being tortured just before Zeb found you.

“Got it.”, Zeb said to you with a small, relived chuckle. Although, that relief was short. How the hell are you still acting normal after all of that? Your normal, sarcastic-like-you-spend-way-too-much-time-with-Ezra self? Although, the sarcasm seems to be the only remaining constant with how you were from a week before, at that moment, so the Lasat can take what he can get. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

You arrived at the rendezvous point not a minute later, being met with a very worried sick Sabine and Hera. Hera immediately took you from Zeb’s side, an arm wrapping under one of yours as she led you back onto the Ghost. Sabine held onto your bicep of the other arm wrapped around your abdomen and stomach, keeping close by, and Zeb hovered close behind as the four of you quickly boarded the ghost.

Ezra, Kanan and Chopper were the ones in charge of the escape.

Once you were confirmed to be MIA, with chatter around the imperial gossip chain leading to fulcrum about six days into your stay at that imperial facility before it got to Chopper base, the plan was made almost in record time.

It was agreed upon that the two Jedi’s were to help escape, not fight. Not after the whole debacle with the old Clone Wars Y-Wings mission days prior to that, when Ezra’s use of the dark side got into his confidence and a little out of control during that mission - which lead to the unfortunate destruction of the Phantom.

Ezra was wholeheartedly against it, and so was Kanan.

But to Hera and the other two, it was their best bet. The moment Kanan and Ezra would’ve been found in that imperial facility would’ve made things a whole lot harder to get you out of there.

The Jedi staying behind on the Ghost was their best bet to get you out of there with as minimal attention as possible.

Well, as much as they could despite being rebels, of course.

No sooner than the doors to the Ghost closed once you were all loaded onto the ship, the freighter was immediately put into hyperdrive. Not directly to Atollan, of course - just somewhere away from that cursed place around Batonn and Denash.

The four of you all breathed a sigh of relief, you still wheezing and coughing from everything and trying to catch your breath. At this point, though, you’re pretty sure you have a cracked rib somewhere. Breathing hurt. Not just around your neck, but your sides too.

“Well, that was something”, you strained out with a forced chuckle, earning some pained looks from Sabine and Hera once they looked at the state of you.

Stars, you looked like hell.

Beeping and warbling from Chopper joined you soon afterwards, the Astro-mech flying towards you, around the loading dock that everyone who wasn’t a Jedi was in. Chopper nudged onto your leg, moving its head from side to side, almost like a nuzzling manner that your would see from a loth-cat. Zeb chuckled at the sight a bit, earning a quick zap from Chopper, and what could’ve been a curious catering of curse words and what you picked up to be “don’t tell anyone about this”, in droid language. You moved your arm from around your waist, giving Chopper a quick pat on the head, taking your hand back as he rolled away, the sounds of two sets of footsteps bounding closer on the metal of the ground scaring him off to the side.

You looked up slowly, eyes barely meeting Kanan’s, nor Ezra’s.

Well, it’s not like Kanan could actually see you. But he could hear and sense you. And the pain you’re in, despite you not being able to feel it all just yet. And he could tell you were fighting the whole time. Not giving up even the slightest bit of actual information that could help the empire. He was both equal parts relieved and absolutely horrified at that.

Force knows what kind of injuries littered the skin of your body.

Ezra, on the other hand, could see you. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what he saw.

A gulp and a shaky, quiet breath followed after he finally got to see you. A week after that stupid, stupid argument. His eyes were wide, cerulean blues scanning over each and every injury and bruise that came with your battered appearance.

You were his partner.

What did those damned imperial asshats do to his partner!?

“Hey, there’s my favorite Jedi’s!”, you forced out, your voice cutting through Ezra’s thoughts, another smile cutting through the scab on your lip even more.

Kanan gave Ezra a small pat on the back in encouragement, and Ezra wasted no time on jumping over the railing of the top deck, feet firmly planting on the lower deck of the loading dock before he enraptured you into a tight hug that almost knocked you back down onto the ground.

Hera, Sabine, and Zeb were smart enough to back away once Ezra had landed on the lower deck.

You grunted from the force, a pained wheeze accompanying it. ”Easy, Ez, pretty sure you cracked my ribs even more”, you say, sarcasm and a joking lilt covering whatever kind of fears you were feeling right then. Ezra just barely loosened his grip on you, a hand coming up to gently hold onto the back of your head as the other clutched you close around your shoulders.

His eyes were screwed shut, brows furrowed downwards as his chin pressed onto your shoulder, for another reminder that you were there. You were with him. You were in the Ghost.

You were safe.

He was still reeling at hearing the sound of your voice after not hearing it for about a week. Perhaps the longest week ever.

To say that he freaked out the moment he realized you missed your check-in time with Hera was an absolute understatement. He was already antsy during the first two days of your mission. Especially since you guys both said nothing to each other after the argument, you having left not too long afterwards. He already got a bad feeling that wouldn’t stop coursing through him - no matter how hard he tried to will it away - the moment you left him alone after you offhandedly mentioned your task once the argument ended.

And when you missed the check-in time? And the days after that?

He couldn’t sleep at all.

Went through one too many scenarios through his head that made him anxious to no end in sight. Not even Hera or Kanan could help him through that one.

He grew irritable when he was told to wait for further instructions on the matter of your disappearance. He wanted to go out and find you - maybe pay a visit to whoever the hell kept you away from the base for so long. Man, even Sabine and Zeb were willing to join him on that endeavor before the transmission from Fulcrum came through. Once Fulcrum said your name and stated the now-debunked-as-true rumors of you being captured in an imperial facility for questioning, all thoughts of his previous idea flew out the window.

He remembers how the air left his lungs when Zeb’s voice crackled through the comms to speak to Hera about finding you, Kanan and him being tapped into the frequency just incase anything else happened while they were on the Ghost, waiting for the rest of the Spectres to come home with you in tow with them for the escape. It was difficult to breathe for a few seconds.

Zeb found you.

And then, of course, he remembers the fear and anger that rushed in at what Zeb said about your state of being. What he wouldn’t give to have beat up whoever thought was a good idea to torture people for information - especially whoever thought it was a good idea to do that to you. Everyone knew immediately what Zeb was referring to when he said you didn’t look too good. You were injured. And from Zeb’s tone of voice, the injuries were bad.

And now, here you were. Held in his arms, safe back on the home you called the Ghost, with him being absolutely unable to bring himself out of the hug. He can breath easier now, now that you’re at home.

“Ez, ‘m fine”, you said with a laugh. Still trying to remain calm. “You can let go of me, y’know?”

Ezra shook his head no stubbornly, eyebrows furrowing inwards a bit more for just a second at the idea, knowing damn well he got a roll from the eyes from you. That wasn’t going to change his mind about holding you at all.

“Ezra seriously my ribs are starting to hurt—“

He loosened his grip enough to pull away from you, not before pulling a surprising move and lifting you up into his arms. One arm still clung around your shoulders, and the other hooked underneath your knees. You gasped in surprise at the action, but the gasp was a little to sharp for your body’s reaction, so immediately afterwards you coughed away from him and into your elbow, trying to catch your breath, your other arm slung around Ezra’s neck instinctively.

After a bit more of you catching your breath after a few seconds, Ezra sighs shortly in relief, and makes his way towards the ladders with you, still in his arms. The adrenaline was still there for you, just slowly waning, enough for you to get tired enough not to protest Ezra’s actions.

“What are you doing?”, Hera asked him once he started climbing out the ladder to the deck above the loading dock. The arm around your shoulders was helping him climb, your arm strong enough to hold yourself up, while his other arm stayed hooked underneath your legs.

“Gonna help with their injuries.”, he told Hera curtly.

“We have a team of medics at the base to—“

“I know.”

Ezra’s voice was sharp at that answer, even just the slightest bit of annoyed, stunning a bit of silence out of Hera at his reaction. The rest of the crew watched as he disappeared back into the Ghost with you wrapped up in his arms.

For a second, Hera took a step towards the ladders, having half a mind to follow the two of you, before Kanan’s voice called out to her from the balcony.

“Let him help. They’ll be fine with him. Think they both need some time together after the past week we just had.” He explained to her calmly. Hera only stared at him for a long minute, before looking at a random part of the Ghost below them both, sighing at his words.

He was right.

You both needed this.

—————————————

“You really said that to the guy?”, Ezra asked incredulously, voice the softest it’s ever been around you. He was busy cleaning off the dried blood from your visible cuts, having already just cleaned, bandaged, and put burn salve on the electrical burns all over your middle and sides. The burn salve was long over due for them, and you visibly relaxed when the burns were finally covered in the soothing, cooling substance. That should take away the sting that ebbed away at your nerves.

“Hey, it really was the definition of insanity in there!”, you said with a chuckle as you defended your word choices. Which, granted, prompted you to get choked by the guy before Zeb stepped in, so it probably wasn’t the best word choice, but still. It was better than nothing. “Couldn’t help it, Ezra. I spend too much time with you to not say something, yknow.”

That comment coaxed a small smile out of Ezra, a gentle hum of a chuckle already being pushed through him. But it still wasn’t enough to make him laugh all the way. At least it got him to smile, though, even for a little bit.

He was cleaning off a couple of the cuts on one of your hands, attention staying on that hand as he let the small smile turn the corners of his mouth upwards.

“There’s the smile I missed for the past week”, you said, your other hand coming up to cup the left side of his cheek. Your thumb lightly grazed over the two shallow indents of scars left by the inquisitors a couple years prior, and he leaned into the feeling of your hand on his cheek, stopping his small mission of getting you patched up himself, and relishing in your touch. Even if it’s for a few seconds before he got back to work.

One week without any knowledge of how you were doing was enough to make him realize how much he really, really missed you during the longer missions. He missed your hugs, your talks, the banter. He’d give anything to prevent another week like this one from happening again.

One week without him around was enough to make you worry. What kind of lengths he’d go through to get anyone back. To get you back. That is, if he fully turned to the darkside of the Force. Sure, two sides of the same coin with the light side of the Force and everything, but it still harbored some level of fear in you. Luckily, though, it seemed like Kanan knocked some sense in him. That or your disappearance and subsequent torturing - but honestly you’re hoping it’s not the latter. You’re just glad he’s ok. That he isn’t hurt. That he’s here and he’s safe, and that you protected the secrets of the Ghost and Chopper Base without breaking to anything the imperial facility threw at you. That was an accomplishment in its own right. And you were glad that you were able to keep those secrets safe.

And that you were able to keep Ezra safe.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a thumb swiped over the split cut that was on your lower lip. Ezra just barely grazed it, but it still hurt, and made you wince a little bit at the touch. Only by a smidge.

To cover that up, however, you decided to joke around a bit.

“If you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked”, you said, snickering a little at Ezra’s eye roll, and the red that began to tinge his ears. He closed his eyes and shook his head with a chuckle, and your smile grew. That got him to laugh.

His hand moved to hold the side of your neck, just below your jawline. Part of his hand still rested on it, more so at the corner, and just underneath the skin of your ear. The touch was careful, and his thumb lightly brushed against the bruising on your jaw. He gently pulled your head closer, and his forehead lightly bumped against yours, his nose lightly nudging against the side of your own, all in an attempt to get more calm and comfortable.

And it worked.

He took in a breath, and let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving after a couple seconds of the breath.

“Sorry about the argument”, he mumbled the apology, eyes tilted downwards, focus on the ground. “I shouldn’t have—“

“Hey”, you cut him off, knuckle from your free hand coming up, gently nudging his chin up so he could look at you, eyes that swirled with the power of the Force onto yours, that only caught the reflection of the light in the room, and the reflection of Ezra in front of you. “That was just a stupid argument. That doesn’t matter now.”

“But it does!”, he exclaimed in a whisper, irises boring into yours. You swear, you could see your own soul reflected through them. ”I went out of line and blamed you for being careless and—“

“You really think that argument has any affect on me right now?”, you ask, raising a brow. “Karabast, I was literally tortured, I would love to go back to when that argument was the most of my worries.”

That was only last week that that argument happened. So trivial, compared to the events that unfurled.

So trivial compared to the burns on your sides, the ache in your ribs, the twinges of pain from your bruises and the black eye that plagued your left eye.

It hurt emotionally, sure.

But what you wouldn’t give to go back to that being the only kind of pain that swirled in your mind.

Before even you realized what was happening, through the haze of the loud thoughts that made up your mind at the moment, Ezra’s other hand disconnected from the rag that cleaned up your dried blood, and reconnected with your other cheek on the other side of your face, away from the black eye. He nudged away a stray tear with one of his knuckles, and brushed his thumb over the swell of your cheek once more began to slowly tumble out. Mainly from the one eye you could actually see out of properly, the one eye that went wide after you mentioned the torture you endured, the one eye that let that tear go loose, providing other tears with enough confidence to start falling as well.

“I was tortured, Ezra.” Your voice went quiet, strained.

It was only then that you realized just how horrified you were.

Strange, how some feelings of anxiety didn’t pop up until way later, once you were actually processing whatever kind of traumatic event you just went through. Other times the anxiety bubbles up pretty quickly, during whatever you were going through - even if it was just a normal, calm situation that somehow made your anxiety act up. But this time, it took you a week to actually feel the damned fear that wouldn’t actually allow you to sleep very much throughout the time you were being held at the facility.

Then again, you were also doing your best to keep a level head the whole time. To keep yourself from spilling anything. To keep yourself sane.

Maybe it was the fact that you were finally in the comfort of your own home, in front of your partner no less, that made you feel comfortable enough to grab onto the bad feelings again, rather than to just force them down until they were too much for you.

Your eyes blurred Ezra out of focus due to the burning tears that bubbled up behind your eyelids. You screwed them both shut, and gulp with a shaky breath. Ezra furrowed his brow again - this time, however, they were pointed more upwards than downwards.

Still keeping his hands in the same places on your neck and cheek, he lifted his head from resting against yours and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, staying there for a couple seconds, just to linger. Mainly for his own comfort, to remind himself you were physically there with him, and also to remind you of that as well.

After that he wrapped you up in another hug, gentler this time. One you leaned into, your forehead coming to rest on his shoulder, near the crook of his neck. The hand on your cheek moved to the back of your head, lightly pressed into your hair, and his other hand on the side of your neck, just under your jawline and ear, moved to your back, pulling you forward for the hug that you graciously accepted.

He nudged his nose onto the crown of your head, placing another soft and comforting kiss there. “Took you that long to figure it out, huh?”, he murmured, voice soft with an air of humor. Just the slightest lilt to make things much less strenuous than they seemed.

“Shut up, Bridger”, you sniffed, lightly punching his arm, a chuckle spilling out between the both of you. The hug tightened just a little bit, the hand you punched Ezra’s arm with holding onto the sleeve of his orange jacket he always wore.

“Sorry, sorry”, he apologized, laying his cheek down on the top of your head. “Had to joke about this somehow, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh, followed by a sigh, quiet and exhausted. “Right…”

A silence fell over the two of you. Ezra let out a sigh through his nose a couple minutes into it. “You’re safe now, ok? You know that, right?”

The message was quiet, a soft mumble only meant for your ears. The tension in your own shoulders began to ease a little, much like his minutes beforehand.

Your arm moved from his jacket to around his neck again, pulling the hug even closer, just to be nearer to him. Just for more comfort. For your peace of mind to remind yourself that you’re home.

You’re safe.

You’re with Ezra.

Things are fine for now.

Everything will be alright for now.

Just for right now. Which is all you could ask for at that moment.

“I know.”, you mumbled back. You sigh out of relief, of being there with Ezra, in the comforting arms of home, in the surprisingly comforting metal rooms of home, deciding against breaking the hug for the time being.

Until Ezra broke it himself.

“Oh c’mon, Ez!”, you complained. “I was just getting comfortable, dude!”

“You were falling asleep on me”, he responded back, grabbing the rag he was using to clean off the dried blood from your injuries strewn about your skin. He stood up to get more water for it, along with a cooler ice-pack for the nasty bruise on your eye.

“Like I said, I was just getting comfortable!”

“You can get comfortable and sleep on my shoulder after I’m done taking care of your injuries - and after we’re sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion.”

“I’m not convinced.”

You groan, leaning back on your arms as Ezra gathers the supplies you need from one of the medical kits that came from the medical crates you were supposed to get from your mission beforehand. “Stars, you’re just as stubborn as Chopper - like friend like droid, y’know?”, you say with a playful scoff.

Ezra laughed. It was less of a chuckle now, more genuine. Good. You liked it when he laughed. “I could say the same thing about you, y’know—“ you interrupted him with a indignant noise, absolutely appalled that he would ever compare your stubbornness to the astro-mech. You were the only one allowed to do that, how dare he?

“I’m not that stubborn—“

Another laugh bubbled out from Ezra, and you couldn’t help but smile at it. It was a noise that never failed to brighten your day, even in the darkest of hours.

A chuckle made it’s way out of your throat again as a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and you shook your head a little, the banter between you both continuing. Just like normal.

Just like home.

Maybe some things were definitely worth getting tortured over.

If you could keep the base safe, the Ghost safe, and Ezra safe, you’d do it all over again, no matter what.

You’d always protect your home from the Empire.

Even if your home wasn’t always protecting you.

[pipi-un-kaki-in-pipi-land]

it's all just a burning memory

summary: your unexpected death leaves a huge scar on wednesday

tw: mentions of death

No, no. This can't be happening. Wednesday shook your pale body with so much force that if you were alive you would be thrown to the other side of the grass. Your lifeless, pale eyes could only stare up ahead at the cluster of stars that hung in the blood sky as the raven continued her desperate attempt to resuscitate you, but to no avail.

Mose people crowded around your unconscious body, watching Wednesday Fighting a cold war with the heavens to bring your ass back to life. Bianca and the other sirens tried to achieve the same feat the ravenette was trying to, but they all couldn't accept the fact that you were dead.

"I'm sorry, Addams. They're gone," Bianca swallowed thickly, tears starting to fill her siren eyes. "No. No you're not gone, y/n. If you die, I vow to pull you back from the flames of hell and murder you with my own bare hands," Even Wednesday shuddered in fear, her heart aching from the thought of losing you forever.

If she was given infinite lives, she would choose to spend it all with you by her side.

She was given one life and she spent it with you.

But it wasn't long enough.

Tears fell to the ground one after another. She clutched the fabric of your shirt, not wanting to let go.

But even she had to accept the fact that you were gone.

"Rest, y/n," Bianca shut your eyes, shedding a tear as she did so. The battle with Crackstone was already tiring enough for them, but your death just made it even more devastating for the school.

"Let's go, Wednesday," Enid extended an arm to the grieving raven who tried to hold back her tears but failed. The silence was so deep that the police and ambulance sirens could be heard from miles away.

Back at her dorm, tears streamed down both of the girl's faces as Enid pulled Wednesday into a gentle hug.

The goth girl didn't even bother to pull away, your death was the only thing clouding her thoughts right now. "I'm sorry, Wednesday," Enid sobbed uncontrollably onto her sweater, devastated that you were gone.

Both of them couldn't sleep a wink that night.

Few days ago

"y/n. I saw it in a vision. Crackstone's coming soon, and we need to be prepared, " Wednesday said, walking towards your bed.

"Can we fight alongside each other?" you pleaded, a smile beaming on your face.

"No, cara mia. I can't afford to lose you to a ridiculous fight, " She refused, despite knowing how invested you were in finding about the Hyde.

"But I can't risk losing you either, Wed. You mean everything to me, and I don't know what I'd do without you, " you said, looking at her with scrunched eyebrows.

Wednesday never replied you. On the day of the fight, you had unexpectedly pounced on Crackstone but was gashed by his magic and flung to the corridor walls, completely obliterating it.

"Ad...dams..." you mumbled at the raven who was at death's doors, your face bloodied as you lost consciousness.

Wednesday jolted up from the nightmare, her face plastered in sweat.

If only she was stronger, she could've saved you.

But if you weren't there, she could've been the one dead instead.

She wouldn't have minded at all. The sunshine from her life faded out when you were gone.

And she knew that she would never, ever find someone like you again.

Wednesday headed to the balcony and looked down with no fear, wanting to join you so desperately.

"Hey, Addams, " you suddenly said one night, the raven's attention turning to you.

"I'm somehow gone, or whatever, dead, promise me you won't cry, please. I don't want those fragile tears to ruin your pretty face. Just live on without me, " you said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Wednesday didn't really take it seriously, but now with your presence gone, she finally understood how it felt.

She glanced at the chair in which she played the cello on, portraying the times you would laugh at how you miserably failed to get the hang of the instrument.

Her gaze shifted to the blanket of stars that resembled your embodiment, wondering if tomorrow would ever come.

[pseu-donymous]

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH SEASON 3 FINALE AHEAD!!!

-

-

-

ok i’m going through emotions right now so my previous reblogs are still a part of how i feel, BUT.

on the subject of we ‘tech-is-CX2’ truthers being OBLITERATED by the finale— i too am salty!!

however!! while my emotional brain is yelling at dave filoni for that ass-beating of a red herring, my storytelling brain is going nuts (in a good way)!

y’all. we don’t know that wasn’t tech. and that was the point.

we’ve seen the CX-es when they’ve been captured. they are completely and fully brainwashed. what i think the showrunners were trying to show with all those tech-like mannerisms and red herrings throughout the season mixed in with the interactions with the other CX-es is that, no matter what body is in that suit, it isn’t tech. he is dead. they may have repurposed his body, and they may have not.

not showing the face beneath the mask shows just how horrendous hemlock’s programming was, because any clone he could’ve turned into CX-2 (i saw that people were thinking it could’ve been dogma or cody, as well) wouldn’t have been any different than any other candidate. in the end, all traces of their identities would’ve been wiped, and there would’ve been no saving them. the emotional weight is still there.

it’s disappointing that it wasn’t confirmed to be tech beneath the mask, but at the same time, i’m glad it wasn’t. there’s no way in hell the batch could’ve had their happy ending with that knowledge, especially if they had still killed him. so many star wars projects end in terrible horrible sadness, so the ending we got, whether or not you think it was a cop-out, was deserved.

at least, that’s my perspective! i’ve gone into shock by the time i’ve finished writing this post, so my deepest apologies for any mistakes in grammar or, you know, the whole thing not making any sense.

expect more from me! i’m cooking up some stuff!

[salixianlegume]

So I watched Transformers: One

Spoilery stuff under the cut! Above it will be general thoughts.

First of all: Movie good. Especially for Transformers Fans.

(The person I went with, who is not a mega-fan like I am, but has consumed most of the movies and a few TV shows, called it the best movie they'd seen all year, so there.)

The music is solid, there are some absolutely gorgeous visuals, and the pacing is quite good (there are a few things that feel like they move a bit fast, but acceptably so for a movie). Though I'm not a fan of casting movie stars as voice actors, the performances did not take me out of the movie at all.

For a Transformers fan, there are a few lore gags that got a chuckle out of me, and there was lots to discuss regarding some choices they made with my movie-fan friend.

That said, despite the franchise nods, I believe that it is still VERY accessible for non-fans, and they managed this without much expositing. Essentially, going in, the following is what someone should know, but isn't essential: "On an alien planet called Cybertron, there are a bunch of robot aliens. A lot of them can turn from being human shaped into a vehicle. Because they are robots, they can live a long time, but they can also die. The food they eat is called energon, and their heart/soul is called their spark."

Most of this is already picked up from cultural osmosis, so non-fans are pretty much set to go.

So yeah, non-spoiler bit over, grab a friend! Go watch it!

Okay, spoilers.

I thought it was interesting that, at the beginning of the movie, D-16 is the rule follower, while Orion Pax is the troublemaker. That said, it was a good choice. It makes D-16's decent into violence make more sense. He was BETRAYED, he is ANGRY, all the work he's ever done, all the rules he's ever followed, the man he idolized-- it was all a lie!

For Orion, though, yeah, he's angry, but he was always looking for more, anyway. Also, even in the beginning, Orion's getting in trouble to help people; he puts his life on the line to rescue Jazz, and sacrifices a chance at winning to help D-16. He's a helper, he doesn't want people to die! So while him trying to save Sentinel in the climax is a little odd, it makes some sense.

Elita One is... kind of a bitch, and I like her for it. Interestingly, though the other three of the quartet use their alternate names during the movie (Orion Pax, D-16, B-127), Elita doesn't use "Ariel". This is probably due to Ariel being kinda... an organic, normal-ass name. It also gives them one less name change to justify. Like, they don't even go to "Bumblebee", B-127's just "B", so yeah, I think "Elita One" from "Ariel" would have been hard.

Bee is... annoying, but tolerably so. He's like the little brother mom said you had to take along, but little brother is actually trying to behave.

Obviously, we couldn't see much of the Elite Guard (ie Proto-Decepticons) without utterly shattering pacing, but I wish we could have seen more of Starscream, Shockwave, and Soundwave. Like, I didn't really get the impression that these guys were as powerful fighters as they were supposed to be, given that the quartet was easily able to keep up with them, but it's a minor quibble.

Shockwave is such a wimp though, it's funny. It's implicit that this man is a nerrrrdddd.

And no Soundwave boob goblins. :(

In other missed chances, when D-16 said that if he could transform, he'd turn into a shovel to beat Pax with, they could have gone with the good ol' "gun and shoot you" for a G1 reference.

Overall, though, very good. Does for Optimus and Megatron what (as far as I can tell, I never watched it, only heard about it from fans) the Clone Wars does for Anakin and Obi-Wan. Like, you know in many modern continuities they were friends, but now you *know*.

Worth the ten year development hell. :D

[audre-falrose]

Hcs for Signalis? Oh, and thoughts too, maybe if you don't particularly have any hcs.

I see thoughts are being had about Falke but honestly y.yeah.

Oh, please do take this as an opportunity to gush about whatever, scenarios, anything

I got you boo~

KLBR 😈

-Call any of them short and they *will* gang up on you

-huge sweet tooth

-gremlin energy (pranksters)

-occasionally "accidentally" broadcast their thoughts to any replika around them, has gotten many of them in trouble with ADLR and FLKR

-dislike most STCR units for their height advantage and the bullying

ADLR 🖊

-if a FLKR body pillow existed in universe, he would own at least one

-the only straight one (ew-)

-wet cat energy

-always tired

-gets FLKR way too much coffee even if he thinks it's overkill

-cannot physically tell FLKR no (simp)

ARAR 🔧

-love to eavesdrop, especially in the STAR/STCR dorms

-chatty and love to gossip

-one ARAR overheard ADLR swear and now the entire facility knows except for him

-loves poping down from the ceiling to scare other replika units

-ARAR dorm is more like a greenhouse than a dorm due to their love for plants

EULR 🎶

-BALLET DANCERS?! YES PLZ!! (Also musicians)

-theater kids

-sweet yet occasionally catty if angered

-also kinda ditzy? Depends on the day and specific unit

-love to hit on other units, especially STAR units while they're on duty

-holds facility wide dance parties (with permission, ADLR was pissed with their first attempt)

-literally perfect hair, always smooth and silky

STAR 🌟

-stoic and sometimes irritable but not STCR levels of pissy

-strategy nerds, love reading pre war military strategy books

-STARs always protect each other, no matter the situation

-protective of the weaker units, especially EULR and KLBR units (big sister vibes)

-lowkey hate/don't get along with STCR units

STCR 🔫

-perma grumpy, DO NOT PISS OFF THEY *WILL* BEAT YOU HALF TO DEATH

-dislike ADLR but are forced to follow his orders

-not good with jokes/pranks

-gun nuts

-also military strategy nerds, but they prefer post war

-smell oddly nice?? Mostly lavender or other flowery scents from their body wash

-like to bully KLBR units

LSTR 🌙

-fairly quiet, calm personality, moon

-great listener, even better with keeping secrets

-smooth voice, one could listen to an LSTR read the dictionary and they'd fall asleep rather quickly

-good with tools and small mechanical projects

-loner type, longing for friends

-socially awkward

-will warm up after at least a few weeks of interaction

MNHR 🧸

-golden retriever Gundam

-gentle giants

-8ft tall children with plasma rifles (they don't like hurting things)

-love *anything* soft; stuffed animals, pillows, blankets, you can bet your sweet ass they'll love it

-can't actually read (some have at least a 2nd grade level, but it's not the norm)

-also can't write well due to their hands being so large

-sometimes forget their own strength

-love giving KLBR units rides on their shoulders

-would dive into a bottomless pit to save a puppy

-armor has so many scratches and typically covered in dirt/dust

-they're all sisters, change my mind

FLKR ☕️

-coffee queen, overachiever, overthinker

-Insecure but hides it *extremely* well

-can "link up" with and KLBR unit through bioresonance from anywhere in the facility

-usually the one to call a KLBR out when they broadcast their less desirable thoughts

-can also see directly in their minds, it's not always pretty...

-has caught ADLR doing "odd" things with her items on several occasions

-has seen things only demons could conjure (corrupt units are hell to look into the mind of)

-prolonged use of bioresonance causes stress to the mind of a FLKR unit, but all FLKR units are trained to conceal such pain from all other units and officers to "maintain order"

[dameronology]

the recent dd announcement got me feeling things for matt so can you please do number 10 from the love confession list ("please listen to me")?

i have been in love with matthew murdock for eight years now and it has still not wavered

It would be a lie to say that you and Matthew Murdock did not argue on the regular.

You were normally best friends, occasionally enemies but always lovers. But, you were both stubborn and stuck in your ways and when your ways were so different to his, it meant you butt heads at least three times a week. Sometimes it was menial things; what to have for dinner, whose turn it was to pay for lunch, which Star Wars movie was the best. Other times, it was deeper. Matt was overprotective by nature and it was only amplified with you. You knew who he was by night and what he did; in his mind, that put you in danger. Danger he tried so hard to protect you from.

It just didn't help that you sometimes put yourself in danger.

It was just gone 4AM at the Murdock apartment; everyone in the building was asleep, save for you and also for Matt, who had found you wandering around outside by yourself at this ungodly hour with a can of Pepsi in your hand and pepper-spray in the other. That went against basically every rule he had mentally set you and safe to say, it was not something he took lightly.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he demanded. "Do you know what kind of people are about at this time? Do you?"

"Dickheads in devil suits?" you shot back. "Because that's the only people that I saw-"

"- now is not the time to start running your mouth," Matt cut you off, his tone dangerous now. "What were you even doing out there?"

"I was bored and I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd walk over here and see if you were awake because I saw you active on Facebook like an hour ago," you explained.

"You can't..." he trailed off, taking a deep breath. "You can't just be out like that at this time, okay? There are dangerous people out there, and they might want to hurt you-"

"- you're so self-absorbed," you huffed. "Have you ever thought that people might just want to hurt me completely devoid of my relation to you?"

Matt took a deep breath, hands on hips and a facial expression that wasn't far off of you can't be serious right now. He loved you to his very core - in more ways than one - but you constantly drove him up the wall. He'd never met a more frustrating person.

"Can you..." he paused for a moment, trailing off. "Can you just listen to me?"

He took you by the arm and gently lead you to the sofa, discarding his helmet as he did. Matt realised his mistake then: you'd never been able to take him seriously when he wore all the get up. Maybe you would actually listen to him now that he was sans devil horns.

"I would lose my mind if anything happened to you," he softly said. "There are people I care about in this world but if somebody, anybody, laid a finger on you, I would rain hell on every single person in this city until I found out it was. Whether it was because of my involvement with you, or because you're just so damn annoying that they felt the need to mug you."

You grinned. "Matty, that's a lot of talk for something that hasn't even happened yet."

"You're right, but it could happen. It's not outside of the realm of possibility and I don't want you to be scared but...I just think you could use your common sense a little more," he was joking on the last part, but you knew he meant it. "I'm not always gonna be around to save your ass if you get kidnapped off the street at 3AM."

"I thought you became Daredevil entirely for my sake?"

"I didn't become Daredevil to protect you," he said. "Maybe it's my reason now...but not always."

You nodded. "Of course. How silly of me."

"I love you, okay?" Matt said. It was the first time he'd ever told you that; maybe you'd known for a while, but actually saying it was a whole other ballpark. "Never change...maybe just be more careful."

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you too."

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': Tipping Point

It's pretty darn clear that Doug's love of Daddy Warcrimes runs hard and it runs deep, along with his love for Toaster Strudel and Rex, who is the Daddy of Daddies. So you KNOW this episode made him a happy smiley boy.

For as grumpy and grouchy as 'Pabu' made him (and his extremely weird pairing of Mayday and Phee, which haunts me to this day), the amount of smiley faces and emojis I got in this one was the polar opposite. Or maybe that's because the Crimson Tide lost that day. Who knows.

Onto the Doug commentaries of 'Tipping Point' aka 'THE WRATH OF TOASTER STRUDEL'.

CW: "Call your momma if you wanna read my comments, I guess. Shouldn't the kids be watching that Australian dog show, anyway?"

----

Well, it’s a cloudy gross day in wherever. Is this to remind us that Daddy Rambo and the other two clowns are partying in Daytona while everyone else is suffering? I’m still mad OH HOLY HELL IS THAT JORGE?!

It is Jorge! And oh no it’S BLOND JACKASS’S BROTHER. God damn it, do they only hire the children of the corn to run this damn Empire, what the hell. I hope they’re not going to die, I’m still mad about Sassy Park Ranger.

Okay, they’re going out–woah! What’s this? Space battle? With the old school bloop-bloop noise, that’s great.

WHAT, YES! IT'S TOASTER STRUDEL! AND REX! Wait, no, that’s not Rex–who is that? Oh! It’s Jorge’s cousin, Manny! Hell yeah! And his new best friends he picked up from outside of Miami, no doubt doing some weird survival camp in the Everglades, based on their camo gear and grunts. I’ll call ‘em Trigger and Nutsy, for now. 

RAIN HELLFIRE ON THEM, TOASTER STRUDEL! Pretend it’s yo daddy that left yo convection oven momma!

CLENCH YOUR BUTTHOLE AND BITE THE PILLOW, BLOND JACKASS’S BROTHER, YOU ABOUT TO FEEL THE WRATH OF TOASTER STRUDEL AND HIS TEAM OF FLORIDA MEN. 

Holy SHIT, where has THIS SHOW BEEN?! I feel like a little kid watching Star Wars again! This is awesome! Kick everyone’s ass, Trigger and Nutsy! I mean, Jesus, they’re wiping the floor with them! I almost feel bad for the troopers, but they work for the Empire, shoot ‘em and let God sort ‘em out.

Manny remembered his electric bocce ball, love the guy. Go Toaster Strudel, go! 

Seriously, I could watch Toaster Strudel shoot assholes and take over ships and bark orders at Trigger and Nutsy all day, forget dumpster diving with Church Lady and the gang looking for James Franco’s arm in Utah, THIS IS THE SHOW I WANT TO SEE!

(Hold on, my wife is yelling at me to calm down. I should’ve watched this at work on my phone, but I figured I’d watch it on the TV instead while drinking some Abitas. The last two episodes were not good for my blood pressure. )

10/10 would recommend to chug while watching Copy Paste Bois kill.

“Where are you taking those clones” man, Trigger is FIRED UP, and oh there goes BLOND JACKASS’S BROTHER KILLING HIMSELF ON SCREEN. And look at ol’ Nutsy, saving Jorge and handing him guns! Oh Jorge is so happy to see his militia boo and know his cousin Manny’s got his back. God damn I am smiling so much right now. 

Welp, Toaster Strudel can’t download shit, must be the old Limewire acting up. BLOND JACKASS’S BROTHER was probably downloading porn onto the ship’s mainframe and the FBI caught ‘em in the act. The ship was clearly manned by Millenials. 

Uh oh, Empire’s here! With the music! Seriously, I feel like a kid again screaming at the theater in Lafayette. Toaster Strudel and Jorge’s cousins escape! Go, go, go! My boys, my boys! Go!

Oh, man, Dr. Meat Muffin, I am a happy old man right now. So happy. 

And they’re safe with Sonic Special, she’s getting them drinks and figuring out there’s shit going down in the place. Man, we need more of her and Toaster Strudel. If this is all we are getting from either of them, I’ll find the director’s front lawn and take a dump on it. MORE TOASTER STRUDEL PLEASE 

Back in Daytona. Is it bad this place is starting to piss me off? I don’t CARE how pretty it is, I want people kicking ASS and taking NAMES and taking DUMPS on front lawns. At least Julio’s fishing and having fun. Did he just catch an Asian carp? 

Woah! Ryan-from-Accounting clearly wants to die, as he’s got Little Orphan Blondie behind the wheel of the HMS Search Warrant and she’s flinging them across the sky. His bitch wife Laura must have found the posts online that Church Lady did of her and Ryan-from-Accounting, or maybe he got some extra life insurance. Who knows. 

And there’s TOASTER STRUDEL! I love this bald bastard so much! Look at him hugging Little Orphan Blondie! Talking business with Ryan-from-Accounting! Shaking hands with Daddy Rambo! All after he took down an imperial ship and saved Jorge and his brothers! I bet he even brought some gas station chicken for everyone too! When does HE get his own show?! 

Ryan-from-Accounting takes us to his true love, his Windows computer. Maybe he’ll show us his downloaded copies of that show from Japan with the screaming people and the aliens and no one wears a shirt. 

(You mean Dragonball Z? -Dr MM

I guess? My nephew won’t stop watching it since he lost his job. - Doug) 

That computer loves him more than both Church Lady and his bitch wife Laura combined, I bet. Which is okay, Church Lady’s true love is Sassy Park Ranger, he’ll be back someday.

“When will it be enough?” Oh can it and get a job, Daddy Rambo, don’t knock my boy Toaster Strudel like that. He’s a hard working man. 

Oh man, Ryan-from-Accounting is panicking. Daddy Warcrimes is being held prisoner by weirdos, led by Ryan-from-Accounting’s bitchy stepsister, Beth, and Jimmy-the-Scientist. 

“We don’t leave our own behind.” Why does this feel like a set up and Daddy Rambo is going to leave Ryan-from-Accounting behind at a Circle K or something? 

Man, even coked out of his mind Daddy Warcrimes can take a clutch of folks down. Why do these scenes remind me of that show with Ed Harris and cowboys and robots?

Westworld?

Yeah that. Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes. I like those grey jammies on him. Oh man, it’s torture time. If this goes right back to Daddy Rambo’s gang having a kegger I’m serious, I’m taking a dump on the director’s lawn. 

Now he’s getting lectured by Ryan-from-Accounting’s stepsister, Beth. She hates Ryan-from-Accounting because he has friends and she’s stuck in the 9-to-5 working in a place that looks like it smells like mildew and ass. 

(“Where did you come up with the name Beth?”

“She looks like one, and she only drinks almond milk lattes and is a total bitch to waiters. She introduced Ryan-from-Accounting to his Bitch Wife Laura, they were sorority sisters in Alpha Amma Bitcha”)

Ahhh shoot them all, Daddy Warcrimes! Oh, now there’s gas. Is the Joker going to show up? I need Prince doing the soundtrack now. Will the internet get that reference? Michael Keaton was the best Batman.

Oh shit man no, it’s Jimmy-the-Scientist! I wanted the Joker :( 

What’s going to happen next? Are they going to rescue Daddy Warcrimes?! What’s Stepsister Beth up to?!

(I gave up correcting Doug on Mayday and Phee. Just gave up. - Dr MM) 

[kamiko1234]

I have now reached about 2/3 of chapter ten of The Battle of the Labyrinth and OH MAN DO I HAVE THOUGHTS AGAIN. First off, DAEDALUS IS AN ATHENA KID ??????? Second off, oh my god I HATE the gods so, so, so much. Like the level of hatred I have for this ENTIER PANTHEON is not normal anymore. Because, like- what is keeping them from interfering BESIDES some rule props self-imposed. What keeps those guys out of their children's lives? It's not like the universe would implode or anything as far as I know! And it can't be that the gods are "too busy", if they had the time to bang the mortal parent they should well have the time to idk- check in on the resulting kid once in a while? Maybe help them out? EVEN IF IT'S JUST FOR THE SAKE OF- OH I DON'T KNOW: MAYBE AVOIDING SOMEONE GOING OFF THE DEEP END AND DECIDING TO SAY "FUCK IT; WE'RE REVIVING KRONOS"!? Like holy hell you guys it's almost comical how most of the conflict could have been resolved or just prevented entirely had the gods been a little bit less shitty to their kids. I don't know wether to laugh or cry rn.

And to go back to Daedalus, honestly? Yeah I think he's gonna join up with Kronos should he still be alive. That's where I put my money during this. Because like, HOW COME ATHENA'S MAD AFTER THE FACT THAT DAEDALUS OFFED HIS NEPHWE WHEN SHE COULD HAVE DAMN WELL SAVED THE KID!? LIKE STOP ACTING LIKE YOU ARE THE WRONGED ONE HERE GIRLY, YOU ARE THE GODDESS. USE THAT MIGHTY POWERS OF YOURS FOR SOMETHING USEFUL FOR ONCE AND STOP ACTING LIKE YOU ARE ALL INNOCENT IN THIS WHOLE SITUATION. Then the whole thing with Luke- poor baby. The way he get#s his second thoughts- especially the mention of his "very special role". Yeah, no. That does not sound good, I do not like that and depending on how this'll end for Luke I may do the same as I did with Order 66 in Star Wars and start ignoring canon.

Then the whole thing with Grover and the elders..... I'd say I pray for him but considering the fuck-all gods of pjo I think that would do more harm than god. I guess Apollo and Artemis did do something right in helping Percy.

So the gods got off their lazy asses for once which- atleast SOMETHING. Would be great if that energy could be kept up now! (It won't of course, I know better than to expect the gods to make anything but more problems, But you know what they say, hope dies last.) I swear once I'm done with the books I'm gonna release my "You are the reason I hope Luke wins" tier-list on the gods.

Then the talk with Bianca and Nico and like- yeah why the HECK didn't she talk to him sooner? Like genuinely WHY!? Minos is scetchy af and Bianca could have solved it all SO MUCH MORE DIRECTLY HAD SHE JUST TALKED. Honestly, this feels like a plot devise Rick used to Percy A) can be the most special boy ever and B) so the Reader can see the convo.

(Please mark any spoilers in your replies/reblogs so I can avoid them, thank you ^^ )

[fanfoolishness]

Jedi: Fallen Order musings

Ahhh I finished the game! I suppose I don't really need to put spoiler tags for it, since it's several years old. But it was highly enjoyable and I loved it!

I love how much games are embracing character work these days. I expect it from Bioware, of course, but seeing it from EA and a major property like Star Wars is still really refreshing. I should have guessed that a story set just a few years after Order 66 about a young Jedi would be full of trauma, but I wasn't expecting it to be as in-depth and sensitive as it was. Trauma colors everything in this story, from Cal's wounded connection to the Force, to Cere cutting herself off from it entirely, to Merrin's fear and grief. Even BD-1 grieves his old friend and master and Greez still misses his great-grandmother.

I've seen a few articles about how Cal seemed like a flat or boring character, but I didn't get that at all. He's an 18-year-old young man whose childhood was obliterated by war, who's so afraid of his past and his power that he hasn't tried to leave Bracca in 5 years. He's so guarded at first, because he's had to be. He's slow to trust Cere and Greez, and that trust is broken when he learns what happened to Cere's Padawan. In his youth he reacts like many of us would -- arrogantly and self-righteously -- but it all flows from the deep scars he carries and is so afraid to face from losing his own Master. Fear leads to anger, of course.

He's afraid of trusting again, afraid of being hurt again, so afraid that it isn't until 3/4 of the way through the game that he finally bears to revisit the memories again from Order 66. Facing that loss, and that guilt for not being able to save his master, incapacitates him so badly that a Force vision shatters his lightsaber. (The game remembers it, too, and the animation of Cal reaching out of habit for his lightsaber and realizing it's broken every time you try to use it is heartbreaking.) When he goes to Ilum to try to forge a new lightsaber, he can't help but remember when he came here as a Padawan. BD-1 checks in on him and Cal tells him, no, he's not okay, it's hard for him to be there. The kid is just a massive ball of pain and trauma and watching him slowly unravel that and move forward through the course of the game is a powerful journey. No personality, my ass, LOL.

And Cere's journey! Her grief is far more complex than Cal's because she bears more guilt, and she was a fully fledged Jedi who thought she could keep others safe, and she failed. Fear and anger rule her, too, but despite that she's stubborn as hell, holding onto hope through everything. Her grief and suffering are revealed slowly and carefully through the game, and seeing the way she starts to heal by mentoring Cal is beautiful. When he falls down, she picks him up, even when he distrusts her -- and when she falls, too, he echoes her teaching back to her and helps her rise. Seeing her recovery of her confidence, her skills, her trust in herself -- ahh I'm tearing up again thinking about it. Also, she is fucking badass with a lightsaber!!!

I'm really excited to see what happens with Merrin in Jedi: Survivor (no spoilers, please!). Can't believe a Jedi and a Nightsister could find common ground, but "I'm the last of my kind" is a trauma bond like no other! I love her weird unsettling energy and the fact that she teases Greez and that when she had a choice to stay in the graveyard of her people and the past or strike out into the unknown, she chose to go.

... Reminds me, I still gotta go find all the seeds for Greez's terrarium. How else will he have the best space garden if not for me? Love him too. I'm always a sucker for gruff scoundrel accidentally catches family feels, and he's no exception.

And BD-1. My buddy, my friend, my savior, my companion. I loved Cal able to warm up and be relaxed with BD, and I loved BD's absolute helpfulness and sweet little noises. If anything happens to him I WILL kill everyone and then myself. ... same goes for Cal, in the end...

Note, I am hoping that whatever happens to Cal and BD, that it's hopeful. Jedi have a nasty habit of all dying out by A New Hope, but uh... maybe Cal will be different! We can hope!!! ;_; Well, we're just not gonna think about that.

I liked the ending. The further we kept going I started agreeing with Merrin and thinking "is this holocron such a good thing to have?" Cal's vision of the Padawans being tortured and himself as an Inquisitor, and the wisdom from the Zeffo sages bemoaning their hubris and the extinction they faced, certainly made it seem like trying to rebuild the Order wasn't the right choice, at least for now. As Cordova said, failure is part of the journey. Honestly a hopeful life lesson and one I need to remember when things don't come out as planned or hoped.

Also. How about Darth Vader just DESTROYING you? I had to look up how to get away because I just kept insta-dying with the Force choke XD The ONLY way to have him duel you is to just show instantly that you are NOWHERE NEAR HIS LEVEL! Dude didn't even get a health bar ahahahahah it was hopeless XD

Other scattered thoughts: with the exception of the Wookiees (sorry, hair technology just wasn't far enough along yet for them), the graphics were gorgeous. I loved exploring the different areas, especially as I gained more skills and abilities, and collecting creature logs and Force echoes. Cal's psychometry skill is very, very cool and I loved it. And I adored the Origin Tree! WOW! Did anyone else get a King's Quest vibe from it? I mean, come on!

In the meantime, where's my Fallen Order people to yell at? I haven't played more than 20 minutes of Survivor so all I can say about that is Cal's new beard and TATTOO are pretty great, though I miss my poncho ;_; but if anyone wants to yell about the first game with me, I'm here!

[glisten-inthedark]

Drarry Time Travel AU

Yes, another one. Yes, I couldn't help myself.

I think I might devide into parts (?), who knows.

In this one Draco dies in the OG timeline and somehow ends up in 11 years body (oh the horror!) and remembers everything that happened before. But once he realizes that he's indeed not dreaming nor dead, he decides he'll do everything differently. Starting with befriending Harry fucking Potter.

But because it's magic™ somehow Draco's death in the OG world triggers something in the second timeline and Lucius starts having dreams he can't explain and that feel like memories. In book one, he stars with just small snippets of Draco's childhood (that mirrors the second timeline) but that interwoven with things that didn't happen, things that couldn't possibly happen.

Meanwhile, Draco manages to befriend Harry and not to say something to offend him and decides his role is to ensure Voldemort doens't rise again or that if he does, he can keep him from killing these many people.

At Hogwarts, Draco still ends up in Slytherin because I think that despite of it all, he's still cunning and smart and fiercely loyal to his family (which he's also trying to save), so yeah, Slytherin. And while Harry would no longer have that much of a bias against Slytherin and would do quite well in it, I just think he's too much of a hothead, impulsive, doesn't think through little shit to belong to any other house other than Gryffindor.

So first year happens in a similar fashion with Harry befriending Ron - who hates Draco and the feeling is mutual - and Hermione. Their friendship strikes everyone as odd but no one questions it.

But Draco also suffers through the frustration of convincing everyone Quirrell is the bad guy because no one fucking listens to him, but eventually when he turns out to be right (duh) he'll rub it in Harry's face for the rest of eternity.

Second year comes, Draco manages to convice Dumbledore to allow Harry to spend the summer with him and the Malfoys and while Lucius scares the hell of out Harry, everything turns out fine. (Screw blood wards, if it were up to me I'd kill the Dursley's but it'd be too big of a change).

Lucius' dreams become more and more real with each passing day - agonizing, terrorizing dreams of death, torture and war, of his son dying, of Voldemort rising, of him shackled in Azkaban.

He can't give the Weasley girl the diary, he can't. But someone else does.

But at the same time, Draco and Harry become closer and closer and he tries to think of how he'll handle the Sirius Black ordeal next year, because he really, really needs Harry to b happy a fact which he refuses to examine too closely. Lockhart is still an lying, incompetent ass and Ginny is still posessed by Tom Riddle's evil spirit.

The four of them go and try to save the day and everything happens pretty much the same.

Next summer has Lucius struggling with dreams that are being confused with reality, he grows more weary and protective of Draco that notices something is off with his father but can't say for certain what it is.

Sirius escapes (yay!), Harry starts noticing people more and Draco is the first person he finds pretty meanwhile Draco is already a pining mess.

Harry finds out the truth, drama ensues and a time travel within a time travel takes place. During all the confusion, Pettigrew escapes and Sirius has go on the run.

Forth year has Lucius freaking out because he realizes his mark is getting darker. Draco meets Cedric and it's irrationally jealous of him, but does everything he can to stop him from putting his name on the cup, to no avail.

Harry names also get's called, Ron still acts like an ass and Draco feels left out as he constantly would. His own deep insecurities and fears making him see ghosts where there are none.

But then, then Ron is the one down the lake and Draco is so fucking tired. He's tired of all this bullshit, thinks it would be best if he did die instead, and Harry will always care more about anyone else, he'll always be the one he doesn't really need.

Angst ensues.

Draco stops talking to him and Harry is miserable and sad and angry and he needs Draco to see that he does care, so much!

While still giving Harry the silent treatment, Draco tries to hurt Cedric so he won't go into the maze, but it doesn't work.

Harry comes back - and so does Voldemort - but Cedric is dead.

He and Harry finally start talking again.

The screams of his father haunt Lucius at night, mixed with dreams and fantasies and memories he can't understand. So for the first time, he makes a choice and strikes a deal with the lesser devil (Dumbledore) to keep his son safe.

Another summer spent with Draco's parents, the awareness of Voldemort's return leaving everyone on edge, his parents whispering quietly when they think he can't hear them.

Draco starts to train Harry in Occlumency, Umbridge is still a thing, but both Draco and Harry start Dumbledore's Army and help train the kids from the school.

This time around, Lucius does show up at the ministry and his head and his hurt at seeing the look of betrayal in his son. Draco should've know better, his father would never change.

Sirius comes to the rescue, but Draco manages to fight against Bellatrix with the help of his father of all people and Sirius gets to live.

The Malfoy family stays hidden in a place that no one knows about and this time around Dumbledore is the secret keeper because we all know that's what makes logical sense.

Harry finds the HBP diary, the sectumsempra scene never happens but Draco still gets hurt somehow and the Malfoys and Harry freak out. That's when Harry realizes he's in love with his best friend.

The convient person we pick to take Draco's place in this timeline fixes the cabinet and the death eaters get inside the castle. Snape kills Dumbledore, and it's one of the hardest things Draco had to do - watch someone he cares about be called a coward, a murderer -. Snape wasn't a good person, but he was so much more than what he used to be.

They finally go horcrux haunting and Draco has the leverage of knowing what some of them were. (Don't ask how, he just does). Harry and Draco finally get their acts together and kiss.

They fight. Harry finds out the truth. Harry dies. Harry lives. Neville kills Nagine, the war is over.

Sirius and Remus make it, Tonks doesn't and little Teddy will grow up without a mother. Lavender still dies and so does Fred.

And after some hard earned rest and years upon years of therapy, everyone lives happily ever after.