#nameless lieutenant

[usedgingertwinkhole]

tbh I kind of ship these two...

[crappwr0m]

YALL WHERE THE FUCK IS ALL THE SSS LIEUTENANT FANART?? OR ANY CONTENT REALLY?? IM STARVING, LOSING MY MIND EVEN

Also full nsfw ver on my twit :3

https://x.com/plac1dom/status/1749748820811173910?s=20

[pikinanouart]

If only The Lieutenant was someone's love interest a more important character in the story, maybe he would get a name.

Who knows, maybe he'll stay anonymous, or maybe it's a SECRET!

[winters-tales]

The Nameless Chapter 4: Out of the Frying Pan

00:03 21st March 2322, Location Classified The first thing she noticed was the blood. Stars, there was such a lot of blood. Staggering to her feet, she fumbled at her belt for something that should have been there (what? A knife? A gun? Something else?) and swore when she came up empty. It didn’t look like there was anyone around – anyone alive, that was, mentally correcting herseld as she…

[witchazile]

this is my favorite Yazzy from page 6

(no Yazzy on this page but *waves handkerchief at the lieutenant*)

[teawithcherries]

wrong number

Ghost receives a text that leaves him absolutely reeling. OR the guy that you texted on accident is weirdly flirtatious and you're kind of into it?

1.1k words. lieutenant!Ghost x chef!reader (f). reader’s age unclear but 18+ (not a minor!!). divider by @plutism.

Unknown: SOS!!!!

Ghost immediately goes deathly still, eyes zeroing in on the text message notification that blinks across his phone before disappearing.

Having a SAS issued phone means that his phone number should be impossible to find. He doesn’t receive spam texts or calls and the few people who have his number know better than to bother him when he’s on paperwork duty. Which means that something is not right.

His phone buzzes again, and he feels his gut churn sourly.

Unknown: (1 attachment)

He doesn’t have time to think, he just braces himself for the worst. A photo of Johnny bleeding out with a gunshot wound? Coordinates to a location where Gaz is being held hostage? 

He’s already reaching for his kit in case he needs to jump on a helo when the attachment, an image, finally opens up.

The breath that was suspended in his chest slowly releases like a deflated balloon as he tries to make sense of the carnage on his phone screen. Yet, it isn’t one of his squadmates that’s crying out for help. Rather, it’s an image of a Cornish hen that’s been burnt to an absolute charred crisp. 

His mind is racing at a speed that he can’t quite process, his eyes methodically scanning the photo for any clues or hidden messages in the image. 

Yet, even to his trained eye, the image is perfectly normal. The background of the photo is a standard flat kitchen, slightly disorganized with cooking materials and ingredients scattered about. Your feet are visible in the corner of the photo, you’re wearing a pair of girly pajama shorts and bunny slippers.

His brows scrunch together in confusion, thoroughly perplexed and slightly annoyed at the mental gymnastics that he is undertaking to try to make sense of these messages.

Ghost: Who are you?

Your reply is instant, confirming his suspicion that you have truly somehow managed to message him by accident.

Unknown: It’s (♥︎), your classmate from culinary school!

Ghost glances at the image again, brows scrunching in disbelief that you are training to become a chef considering the charred and blackened state of the bird.

Ghost: Wrong number.

Unknown: Ah, how embarrassing. So sorry to disturb you! I must have jotted down my classmate’s number incorrectly during class. Have a lovely rest of your evening! 

That’s that then.

He sighs and sets his phone on his worn desk, glancing back at the mountain of paperwork that awaits him. He’s several hours away from finishing up, and Price will absolutely have his head if doesn't get it all done.

Yet, for reasons he isn't willing to unpack, the image of your bare legs tucked into those ridiculously fuzzy bunny slippers lingers in the back of his mind. His fist twitches, annoyed with himself for getting so hot and bothered over a mere glimpse of bare ankle.

You’re just another nameless, faceless muppet in the void of the digital age. Even responding back to your text message is probably a breach of security protocol that could land him in another hour long cybersecurity training seminar if he isn't careful.

So Ghost isn’t sure why he bothers picking up his phone and typing a message at all, but his thumb hits send before he can ponder it any further.

Ghost: Chicken seems a bit burnt.

Being the asshole that he is, Ghost can’t help but chuckle wryly at his own joke. He figures you’ll probably ignore his message. Maybe you’ll even take offence to it and block his number. So when his phone instantly buzzes with a response, his interest is fully captured.

Unknown: You think? I worried it might be a bit underdone.

The corner of his mouth twitches upward beneath his mask.

Ghost: I could be wrong. You’re the chef after all.

Unknown: Well, there’s plenty to go around if you fancy charcoals and mash.

He's fully smiling now, embarrassingly chuffed that you're playing along.

Ghost: You asking me on a date?

Unknown: Depends. Are you a serial killer?

Ghost: Depends on your definition of a serial killer.

It’s silent after that and Ghost can’t help the kernel of disappointment that takes root in his chest. Easygoing banter is far and few between for the lieutenant who has spent the last 48 hours trying to make sense of the mountain of paperwork that piled up on his desk during his last mission. He was enjoying this exchange with you far more than he cares to admit, and several minutes pass with no response before he glumly locks his phone and returns his attention to his desk.

A full day passes and Ghost accepts that he has scared you off.

Yet he can’t blame you. He knows full well that there are loads of creeps and nut jobs on the Internet who could take advantage of you. And even so, you’d be better off messaging any one of those weirdos rather than him. Because, after all, he’s ... who he is.

Three days later, Ghost is seven kilometers into his evening jog around the training field when his phone buzzes again unexpectedly. His eye twitches but he doesn’t check it right away, chiding himself for the persistent flare of hope in his gut that refuses to be extinguished. He’s been pathetically rushing to his phone with every notification he receives since your last text message came through and feeling disappointed every time it isn’t you.

It’s only when his phone buzzes again that he decides to bite the bullet and check who's texting him.

He’s fully expecting it to be another stupid meme from Soap in the 141 group chat. Which is why he skids to a stop, heart suddenly pounding in his chest, at the sight of a message from your phone number (which he has memorized at this point).

It’s his trigger finger that flies to open your message, eyes fixed intensely, almost nervously, on the pixelated screen of his outdated phone.

You’ve sent him a photo of a sausage roll, a proper sausage roll, that’s cooling on a wire rack in your kitchen. He's already salivating at the sight of the juicy blend of ground meat packed neatly and precisely into a flaky case of golden pastry, as well as the sliver of your bare thigh that's showing in the edge of the photo.

He assumes that you’ve accidentally messaged him again instead of your classmate until he sees the message beneath the image.

Unknown: Just wanted you to know that I’ve been testing some other recipes for our date. 

Unknown: Thoughts on my sausage rolls?

Ghost doesn’t even realize that he’s grinning like a madman until his face starts to twitch uncomfortably. He hasn’t smiled so hard in months, maybe even years, and the mechanics of beaming like a lovesick idiot have almost been forgotten by his stiff facial muscles.

He responds immediately, almost afraid that you might slip through his gloved fingers again if he is even a second too late.

Ghost: That’ll do.

(thoughts on part 2 from reader pov? i want them to talk on the phone and see ghost be all cute n awkward TT)

[sleeps-au-bag]

i have to throw this into the all consuming void

hsr roleswap where clara, yanqing, and misha take the place of our favorite nameless trio while march 7th, dan heng, and the trailblazer take their places. it doesn't matter that i'm still in the beginning of the 2.0 main quest, i needed to get this out. no spoilers please.

clara is now the host of a stellaron. she was left behind on the herta space station to be found by the astral express. she's incredibly talented when it comes to machines, has a strange habit of going around barefoot, and possibly the most normal one on the express.

yanqing is now the amnesiac swordsman of the express. he was found as a block of six-phased ice floating through space on april 4th, which is now his name. he's crazy talented with a sword, a wonderful photographer, and has quite the adventurous spirit.

misha is now the mysterious loner of the express. he was the first of the trio to be invited on by himeko and welt and has stayed since. his customer service face is unrivaled, he cares quite a bit for his fellow trailblazers, and tries to keep them as far away as possible from finding out his past.

march 7th, now called marcy, is the daughter of svarog. she was taken in by the robot and was raised by him ever since. she's very hyperactive, interacts with everyone in the underground a lot, and charges into a lot of problems without thinking of solutions.

dan heng is now a lieutenant of the cloud knights and the retainer of jing yuan. he doesn't care that much about his past since he now has a duty to the general who raised him. he's not that well liked by the vidyadhara, he keeps getting strange visions about something, and the general has been getting distant recently.

the trailblazer is now the bellboy of the reverie hotel. they're constantly switching between male and female. they have a weird obsessions with clocks, often carry around a baseball bat, and can be found collecting trash in their free time.

[meaningofaeons]

Your writing is so pretty !! I really love your characterization ngl. I feel like you're great at keeping them in character! I was wondering if you could do some hcs of Blade, Dan Heng and Gepard having a crush on a more experienced/older member? For an example, Dan Heng having a crush on an experienced Nameless who was on the Express before him and sort of was the one who was more hands on with helping him learn the ropes. The same implies with the other two for their respective occupations. Idk, I see a lot of character x new member person but never the reverse. I think it's a little cute lol.

Thank you for reading and thanks double if you write it!!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ seniority

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, blade, dan heng ⊹ word count - 1.9k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, reader is a silvermane guard lieutenant (gepard)/a senior member of the stellaron hunters (blade)/a senior member of the Nameless (dan heng), reader pretty much implied to be older in these, at least in terms of like physical appearance/age

hi anon!!! ♡(ﾐ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﾐ)ﾉ I was a big fan of this req ever since you first sent it in! I agree, there's so many "omg reader is an inexperienced baby and the character helps them and falls for them<3" but where's my characters getting swept off their feet by READER who's the senior member fr?!?!? no hate to anyone who writes the former, but I really like strong and capable readers !!!!! enjoy the req <3

⊹ Gepard Landau

Gepard pretty much knew you from the second he joined up with the Silvermane Guards.

As a Landau, it was always his duty, so he'd striven to do his best. However, just because it was his duty to stand at the top of the Supreme Guardian's defenses, doesn't mean he never looked up to anyone.

Despite being similar in age, you'd been a member of the guards far longer than he, enough to stand at the rank of Lieutenant before he had even joined.

At first, it really was just admiration. That, and a sense of seeking mentorship.

He'd follow you around like a lost puppy, the then-humble private Gepard trying to get any pointers he could from you

Would ask you to train with him now and then, or would ask how he can best show his dedication to the guards

Being so busy, however, you rarely had time to entertain these wishes.

Even as a Lieutenant and not a Captain, there were certain duties you had to uphold yourself. If you bowed to the whims of every Silvermane Guard, you'd be nothing more than an errand runner, or perhaps just a simple trainer.

You did notice him, though—how could you not?

He was the eldest son of the Landaus, of all families.

Not to mention, his achievements already far outweighed his ranking.

You only provided minimal guidance when he sought it, and yet here he was, smashing every expectation.

Gepard didn't of you as anything other than a superior, someone to strive after and look up to. Even as he took the ranking of Captain and rose above your station, he still deferred to you on many things.

He would seek your advice in handling situations, and the two of you began working closer every day.

Outside of normal duty, the two of you began talking as well—however, it was mostly about work.

Even with all of that, he still saw you as nothing more than someone to be respected. He still saw you as just a superior, surely. That's all it was.

Those fluttering feelings in his chest when you bested him in a spar? Pure awe at your superior strength and wit in battle.

The heating of his cheeks when you'd toss him your water flask, telling him to drink up and get back on his feet? Just a minor cold, he was sure of it.

Well, for a while, at least, he could justify it as such...

One day, he arrived to his greenhouse after work—a place for his lackluster hobby of keeping flowers—only to find you, the Lieutenant he admired, watering each bud and taking careful care of each petal.

"W-What are you doing here, Lieutenant Y/N?!"

"Ah, forgive me for intruding. Ms. Sergeyevna was unavailable, so Serval asked me to check on your flowers."

You then chuckled a bit.

"Also, you're above me in ranking now, Captain Gepard. No need for the formalities."

And when you smiled, it sent a bolt of lightning straight through Gepard's chest—something he couldn't brush off or ignore any more.

You looked radiant.

He had to get out of there quickly.

"W-Well, thank you for your help! I best be off..."

Before he left, though, he couldn't help but pause, fidgeting at the door.

"Something the matter?"

"Erm..." Gepard was stammering, ready to smack himself over the head for his blunder. "I-If there's no need for formalities, then there's no need for you to refer to me as 'Captain' outside of work, Lieute—" He cut himself off. "Y/N... So..."

You only smiled.

"Okay, Gepard."

When Gepard ran (or rather, stiffly marched) back home after that little exchange, he was beating himself up mentally for such a foolish request.

And yet, the red of his cheeks and the pounding of his heart never did quite dissipate.

⊹ Blade

In Blade's mind, there wasn't much to say about you.

You were a fellow Stellaron Hunter—so?

He was mostly only assigned to Kafka thanks to her Spirit Whisper calming his mara.

Not to mention, the day he arrived to the Stellaron Hunters, you weren't even present. On a mission, as Elio had said.

However, the two of you would eventually cross paths when Kafka was assigned to a separate mission (after ensuring Blade would be stable during her absence, of course).

"This is Y/N. They have assisted the course of destiny for many years now. Be courteous to them."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Blade."

The first thing Blade noticed was how you were... warmer than he expected.

Kafka didn't have much to say on you other than non-answers (her usual go-to for any questions) and Silver Wolf had only mentioned you being scary.

Had she perhaps meant... in battle?

Surely the person before him wasn't scary in any capacity.

You were skilled, yes—once he went on jobs with you, he could easily tell why you were still a successful member of the Stellaron Hunters.

In any other situation, perhaps he would've said he admired your prowess.

However, you were still but an enigma, and for a long time, Blade didn't like that.

He chose to keep his distance where he could. While he would obey you in missions to assist Elio to his full capacity, he never actively hung around you if he didn't have to.

Despite this, you seemed to hang around him as much as you pleased, and against his obvious displeasure.

"Blade, would you like a snack? I brought plenty for this particular job, since it could get long."

"That coat can't be comfortable all the time. Why don't we go and get you a new one? It's not bad to have options."

"Is your hair getting in the way? I can braid it or tie it back."

He'd never answer you at first. Your kindness was uncomfortable.

However, one day, he did. And he still doesn't quite know why.

"Blade, your bandages are unraveling again. Should I rewrap them?"

"...If you must."

You had stopped at that. Blade actually answered you?

"Haha, I was beginning to wonder if you had a voice at all! C'mere, I'll do those right up for you."

The gentle feeling of your hands redoing the bandages across his battered body did not make Blade flush, nor did his heart rate accelerate.

But a fuzzy feeling had wormed its way into his chest, and he didn't want to think about what it could mean.

But even if he didn't think about its meaning, surely it wouldn't hurt to pursue it from time to time?

It certainly felt better than the agony of mara rife through his walking corpse of a body.

Blade began spending time with you, even outside of missions.

You were reading somewhere? He'd suddenly appear beside you, claiming to be at a loss for things to do, thus he decided to sit for a while.

You were in your room? He'd ask if he could sit in the corner and polish his sword—the lighting in your room was best for such care.

You were about to head out on a solo mission? He'd either ask Elio to accompany you and appear just as you were to head out, or if he was denied, he'd ask you to tie his hair back before he went in case he was called out—Kafka and Silver Wolf, he claimed, could never do it quite right.

It's honestly very endearing.

This big, scary beast of a man becomes a stubborn kitten in your presence, never willing to admit he desires your presence but seeking it out anyways.

And to Blade, that's fine.

He doesn't need words to tell you how he feels.

Hell, he'd probably be loathe to speak his feelings into existence himself. He's still in denial.

He'll continue to show you in just the way he always has—being as close by your side as he can.

⊹ Dan Heng

Unlike with Blade, Dan Heng has some level of interest in you from the start.

You're there when Himeko brings him aboard, introducing him to her fellow Nameless as the newest member.

To be fair, though, he does have some sort of interest in every member of the Nameless, but something about you is a tad different.

You appear younger than Himeko or Welt, likely closer to his own physical age.

That alone makes you somewhat more approachable.

Not that Dan Heng is really approaching anyone on the express right away, though...

It definitely takes you stepping up and approaching him first for him to open up.

It probably starts with you helping him out.

He's always diligent about obeying your advice and help.

As independent as Dan Heng can be, he's respectful to your authority as a more experienced Nameless.

(Not that there's much of a hierarchy or seniority in the Nameless, but he respects you anyhow.)

He's having trouble compiling all the information for a certain entry? You're pointing out things he missed, sort of like a beta reader.

When the two of you are exploring the latest planet you've stopped by, you keep him safe against dangerous monsters (not that he's incapable of fighting, but he appreciates the assistance)

If he's looking for the next volume of a book he's been reading, you're the first to find and get it for him.

And if it's not on the Express, you fetch it for him elsewhere.

You're very open, which he's not used to—Himeko and Mr. Yang tend to leave him to his own devices, after all—but it's not a bad feeling, per se.

He begins to take notice of the ways you stand by him, help him, watch his back.

Not to mention, the manner in which you try to ensure he's welcome at every turn, considering your senior status as one of the Nameless and his relative recent arrival.

As you spend time with him, it's only a matter of time before you can nonverbally understand the quiet Xianzhou native.

"..."

"..."

"Hmm, I see. I'll go get you the latest volume, Dan Heng. I'm sure they sell it on this planet, too—I've been to their bookstores before."

"Thanks."

Himeko and Welt don't really know quite what goes on when this happens.

Over time, you're always the first to communicate for Dan Heng if he isn't present, which he truly does appreciate.

"Dan Heng would like whatever, as usual. Can you prepare the breakfast I had last time, Pom-Pom? He seemed to enjoy it when he tried mine."

"Oh, Dan Heng won't be joining us. Said he needs to organize the archives."

To anyone else, it might just look like a senior Nameless taking the new guy under their wing, but Mr. Yang and Himeko both grew to know better.

They both saw the way that Dan Heng looked at you when he thought no one else was looking at him.

Or perhaps he just didn't care as long as you didn't see the way his eyes shone, an almost imperceptible affection shining behind them.

They both noticed how Dan Heng would go out of his way on planets you weren't exploring to buy you a souvenir, or get you a snack reminiscent of your favorites.

Even March—when you, along with the other Nameless, finally discovered her and rescued her from her ice-prison—as a relatively new member could catch on to how he felt in just a few short weeks.

"Hey, Y/N! Are you and Dan Heng dati—"

"Shh!"

The pink-haired girl eventually had her curiosity sated every time she got to take a photo of Dan Heng's ever-slight smile at the sight of you returning to the Express.

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch18

Description: lots of action here guys. Hope it’s ok - I haven’t checked for any mistakes because your gal needs to sleep 😆🤦🏼‍♀️ Graves is a wanker!

Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

I wake up to the sun peeking into the room. I flutter my eyes, trying to blink away sleep. Johnny is wrapped around me, both arms clinging to my waist along with one of his legs thrown over me for good measure. I couldn't move even if I wanted to. I try to lift his arm but, if anything, he just grabs me tighter while growling. I whine slightly, starting to feel a little claustrophobic..

The Lieutenant is nowhere to be seen. I assume that he left during the night. It makes me wonder if our conversation last night was real..

I try to unlatch Johnny from me for another couple of minutes, not wanting to wake him prematurely but also not wanting to feel trapped for too much longer.

The door clicks open and the Lieutenant marches in. He grunts at the scene in front of him and then barks in our direction "JOHNNY! Let the girl go - time to get up!" Johnny jolts awake with a jump, momentarily dragging me closer towards his body as if to subconsciously protect me from whatever had woken him.

"Awkt, LT.. ever heard of a lie in??" Johnny complains, with a deeper than usual morning voice. He gives me one final squeeze and deeply inhales the top of my head before releasing me. "Sorry Lass... did no one tell ya that I'm a cuddler..?" he teases. I huff a small giggle, blush and roll away, moving towards the bathroom.

Ghost doesn't say anything whatsoever. Just sits down on the other side of the large bed, facing away from me. I really am starting to draw last night's conversation off as imaginary.. the hanky in my hand suggests otherwise though..

When I return from the bathroom, Johnny and the Lieutenant are discussing something. I overhear them mention El Sin Nombre.. hang on a second... something sparks in my memory. I close my eyes and try to think back through the haze of my prior missions and intel I had collected.. think, Laika, THINK...

"Got a headache, Lass?" Johnny asks - do I really look like that when I'm trying to think...? Thanks Johnny..

"Oh, uhm.. no, just trying to remember something..."

"Don't tell me you to took a bang to the head that you dinnae tell us about as well, lass?"

"No. no no, nothing like that.. it's just that name.. El Sin Nombre.. 'the nameless..' - it -uhm - it's familiar.."

The Lieutenant perks up.

"Familiar how?" he growls.

"I - I don't know yet.. I might just be confused" he eyes me suspiciously but doesn't say anything. His deep grunt ends the conversation.

*Alejandro's POV*

Rudy and I show the visitors to their rooms. Rudy had caught me up about the Garrick girl earlier, I still can't put my finger on why I feel like I know her. I settle in bed while Rudy showers, mind running at a million miles a second.

The sniper..

The fucking sniper. The one that missed the shot. I was a sitting duck. And the sniper missed. Her eyes. I can see her eyes..

"what's the matter mi corazón?" my Omega's voice snaps me from my thoughts. "Rudy.. the girl. She's the sniper.." I growl.

"Yes, she had the sniper rifle slung over her back, remember..?" No! He isn't following..

"No, Rudy.. the sniper.. when the Cartel had you and I was cornered.. remember I mentioned a sniper?"

"Oh.. No, Alejo, that couldn't have been her..? You didn't mention the sniper was a girl.."

"I saw the eyes. Nothing else, Rudy.. just the eyes and her shadow.. there was smoke and flames everywhere.."

"Alejo.. I think you must have mistaken her for someone else.. She was nervous with her weapons today.. not some lone assassin. It doesn't make sense.." Rudy tries to calm me down.. but I was a wolf with the taste of blood now. I know that it was her. I just need to prove it.

"Rudy.. I don't trust her. Promise me you'll be careful. She could be undercover... treat her suspiciously until she proves otherwise, ok , Omega?.. I mean it!"

"Yes, Alpha.. I understand.."

Good. I was not going to take any chances. Having so many new faces in my HQ makes me territorial. I had to watch my soldiers and, of course, my Omega.

Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

A few hours later, we rendezvous on a rooftop in town. I stay completely silent and plan not to say anything during the meeting. I step forward with Johnny and place myself slightly behind him when I notice that Graves is in attendance.

"Some view from up here, eh Lass?" Johnny whispers to me. I just nod, glancing around nervously.

"My sources tell me all the VIPs in Las Almas will be there tonight. Some are invited, others are, umm..." Alejandro begins, nodding toward a large mansion house over on a hill.

"What's this meeting about?" Graves asks, smirking, pointing a scope at a building beyond the wall.

Alejandro glances towards me, with a suspicious look in his eye. I furrow my eyebrows slightly and face the ground.

"She leaves.." He growls. Johnny's head snaps down to look at me "What, Alejandro..? Why, she is part of our team..?" he argues. My stomach does that lurching thing that it likes to do when someone scares me or makes me nervous. "This information is top secret. I don't need any extra ears listening in.. that includes her" he growls.

I nod and obediently turn away from the group. I whisper to Johnny "It's ok" I gulp "I'll be in the room.." I say as I walk back in the direction we had arrived from.

"Sweetheart, wait!" the smooth drawl of the American Alpha hollers at me. I stop in my tracks. "Hang fire, I'll get one of my boys to escort you back.." he smiles. It looks more genuine than his previous smirks. Maybe he was better when he wasn't in the heat of a battle or interrogation.. I decide to put a tiny bit of trust in the Alpha and nod my head at his offer, not wanting to cause any more of a scene.

"That's a girl" he grins, squeezing my cheek, softly. "Oz! Take the 141's girl back to their room, please!" Graves orders down the radio on his shoulder. "Yup Yup" a voice responds back and within seconds, another Alpha, dressed in all black, appeared in front of me.

He nods his head in the direction he wants me to walk, and with one final look back to Johnny, I leave with the unknown Alpha.

The meeting on the roof continues without me. Alejandro is onto me.. he knows..

About half way back to the Fuerzas Especiales Headquarters, 'Oz' starts trying to make conversation with me.

"So, how'd a little girl like you find her way into the SAS..?" I gulp "they found me.." not a lie, technically..

"Why'd they send you to Las Almas..?" - "I don't know.."

"You don't talk much.." - "You talk too much.."

He goes quiet for a few seconds before laughing heartily.

"That big fella with the skull mask, he's a scary son of a bitch, huh?" - "Yep.. he is"

"He ever take it off.." - "I don't know.."

"we've all heard stories about the Ghost. Dude's a killing machine.." - "Cool.." I wish he would stop fucking talking..

"So, what're you called again.. didn't catch your name.." - rude - "You didn't ask my name.."

"Well I'm asking for it now aren't I?" the Alpha is getting pissed but I don't think he is a threat..

"Laika.." I reply bluntly.

"Russian then..?" shit, he is smarter than he looks..

"No, just the name.." I gulp.

"Why'd they call you after a poor little stray mutt..?" Bile rises to my throat but I swallow it down.

"Just did I guess.." I shrug ending the conversation.

We arrive at the room and he drops me off and turns, leaving me alone. I lock the door as a precaution and curl up on the bed and cry. At least I hadn't broken down in front of the fuckin 'Oz' guy.

*Simon's POV*

I hardly listen to Alejandro and Graves' meeting, too concerned and distracted with the girl being sent away. I'd been clenching my hands so tightly for the entire meeting that my gloves had burst. I can tell that Johnny isn't fully concentrating either. Fuckin' hell.

It was one thing sending her out, another issue entirely watchin' a fuckin' unknown piece of shit shadow Alpha 'escort' her back to our fuckin' room.

As soon as Alejandro tells us to gear up for the mission, Johnny and I practically run back towards the room. The fuckin' door’s locked. I contemplate kicking the fuckin' thing down before she whimpers from the other side..

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

I hear the door rattling and then growls and grunts from outside.

"Guys.. is that you..?" - "It's us - open the fuckin' door" the Lieutenant bellows. Great, I'd pissed him off again..

I open the door and the pair of large Alphas quickly step into the room, sniffing like crazy. "You alright, Lass? Dick didn't try anythin' did he?" Johnny growls.

"He was fine. Tried to chat but I didn't really feel like talking.." I reassure him that I am ok.

"Why have you been cryin'?" - "I haven't.." I lie.

The Lieutenant scoffs from behind me. "Stop tellin' lies girl.."

Shit, Alejandro told them.. shit shit shit... The Lieutenant wrinkles his nose and turns away from me.

*Ghost's POV*

Ergh, that fuckin' bitter smell she gives off when she is scared. I have to turn away this time. Why is she scared..? Why did Alejandro kick her from the meeting. There is something going on..

Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

"What - what is the plan..?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I'm goin' in, pretendin' to have intel.." my eyes widen.. "What?! Johnny.. that's dangerous.."

"Tried to tell him that.." Ghost grunts

"Awkt, I'll take my chances, plus, Graves gave me this to sell the act.." he holds out a Shadow company insignia..

"El Sin Nombre should be there.. I'll take him down" Johnny says confidently. Him... my brain repeats, unhelpfully.

"Graves is in the air, I'm on overwatch.." the Lieutenant grumbles, clearly not happy with the plan.

"And me..?" I question, wondering my place in this shit show.

"You stay here and wait for us to come back, Lass"

WHAT.. NO WAY. NO FUCKING WAY.

"That's an order" the Lieutenant says with finality. I spin around and run to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it.

Arghhhhh!!!!

El Sin Nombre, come on Laika think! Think like the Asset again.. you know this.. you need to know this...

I stay in the bathroom, plotting my next move. I wait until I hear the obvious sign that Johnny and the Lieutenant had booted up and left. I quickly scamper out of the bathroom and down the hall. I follow the long corridor, turning three lefts and then finally a right hand turn. I was in the area that the Shadows were staying. I sneak up and down the halls, it was pretty much empty. They must have moved out to catch this 'El Sin Nombre' guy.. guy? my brain, once again, uselessly adds. Why does it keep doing that..?

I head into the room with a 'female' sign on the door - weird. I hadn't seen any female shadows but they must have had a couple at least because this room had certainly been slept in. I rifle around in drawers and bags and eventually find a well fitting uniform. I quickly get dressed, flying back down the hallways to my room. I bump in to a Vaqueros soldier. SHIT.

He laughs at me running - "looks like you've missed your shift, little Shadow, eh?" he teases in a heavy accent. I freeze. What do I do..?

"I'll catch up.." I shout back, in a rubbish American accent. It seems to work. "If you're quick.. they went to the huge mansion house at the back of the town.. you better run along, now, little Shadow" he chuckles.

"Thank you - I will" I sprint to the room, dropping off my clothes. I carefully tuck my hanky underneath Johnny's bag, electing that it was too dangerous to bring it with me if I was pretending to be a shadow.

I rush back to the main entrance of the headquarters and, as fast as my feel carry me, run towards the final car getting loaded up. I am carrying my sniper and assault rifle. I keep my head down and pull the black mask over my chin and nose, covering half of my face. I pull the goggles and helmet down over the top half of my face. I hope they don't bother to look.

I step into the final seat, casually and calm, as if I was supposed to be there. Inside, my stomach is twisting. "Shadows.. Commander Graves has had a little.. change of plan.." the commanding officer of this group says, as if he is planning something. My entire body tenses.. This doesn't sound good.

"Graves has ordered for us to form a road block. When - if - the 141 and Vaqueros arrive back to base, we will have taken control. Understood, Shadow Company?" he cheers.

"yup yup" - "yup yup, sir" - "yup yup" my eyes dart around. I join in "yup yup" I say, pretending to be cheerful and excited.

"Now, listen up, Shadows.. Shepherd has put Commander Graves in charge of this operation from here on out. It's time to let the pros finish this. Any resistance from the Mexican's or the Brits and it's lights out for them. We have full execute authority - HOWEVER we would prefer them alive. Shepherd believes that they could have useful intel and he also wants the girl. Oz reported back that her name is Laika - we have done some digging and have reason to believe she has links to Makarov - stay alert, stay ready, stay sharp, Shadows on three!"

I feel sick to my stomach. Everything goes blurry. I almost pass out.

"THREE" - "SHADOWS" they roar in unison.

C'mon Asset, screw your head back on

"The girl - where is she..?" one of the Shadows ask. "We have sent some boys down to take care of her. She will be safely... detained. I don't believe she is much of a threat, anyway.. just scruff her and she becomes anyone's bitch, ain't that right boys..?" he jokes, all of them laughing loudly.

The armoured jeep jerks forward, and the Shadows thankfully go quiet. They park just outside the main gates.

It's pouring with rain, but the Shadows all step out from the armoured vehicles so I follow suit.

We must be standing in the rain for around thirty minutes. Thirty minutes that is filled with screaming, yelling and gunfire from inside the facility, My heart aches. I hope Rudy is ok.. he had been left behind to organise emergency exfil if they had needed it - the shadows were rounding up the Vaqueros. I cringe and try not to whimper. All of a sudden, there is a crackle through the man in charge's radio.

"Shadow-1 to standby. They all made it, amazingly. They are in the third vehicle. Stop them and, if they come willingly, we will be kind. If they try to fight, we.. well y'know.."

Graves.. Fucking snake. I will kill him myself if I get the chance.

"yup yup" the leader of my group replies.

"three minutes out"

It must be the longest three minutes of my life. I am drenched down to the skin. Shaking like a leaf. Please come willingly I pray, knowing that the Shadows had given themselves full execute authority.

Headlights shine from the dirt track. Three black jeeps roll in. They let the first jeep through the road block but step in front of the second and third.

Graves steps out of the middle truck, standing right in front of me.

Doors slam from behind me, Johnny, Simon and Alejandro step out of the third jeep. Two Shadow soldiers also step out, immediately circling behind them. They were surrounded.

Alejandro marches forward angrily.

"What's this??!" he barks, getting in Graves' face.

"This is the immediate future. Step away from the gate" Graves replies cooly.

"What?!" Johnny says, confused and angrily - "You heard me.." he taunts back.

The Lieutenant stays behind, observing. I swear his eyes settle on me for a second longer than the others. Shit...

"You're crazy.. this is my base..!!" the Mexican Alpha shouts, stepping closer again, to Graves. One of the Shadows beside me, readies his gun. I gulp, all eyes dart to the sound of the safety being clicked off.

"It's not a base. This is a sizable covert facility and I admire it- So, I'm taking it. You boys have been relieved. Thank you for your service" - bold fucking bastard. Backstabbing, snake son of a bitch.

"No no no, I don't take orders from you.." - "Didn't Valeria say that..?" Graves teases back, aggressively. My mind flashes - Valeria.. Valeria.. I know that name...

Alejandro suddenly rushes forward, pushing Graves slightly "What the fuck did you just say to me, pendejo..." he growls.

Johnny then steps forward to pull Alejandro back.."You're out of line, Graves.." Johnny growls in the most dangerous tone I had ever heard from the Alpha.

"Don't do that. Don't... do that. No one needs to get hurt here.." Graves says in a mildly suspicious way.. I gulp again and ready my gun with a small click. The lieutenant's eyes definitely flash towards my small movement this time. He finally speaks up.

"ARE YOU THREATNIN' US?!" he barks. A couple of the Shadows step a tiny bit backwards. I remember that Oz had said that they'd been talking about Ghost - how they thought he was terrifying. Good. They should be fuckin' scared of him...

"Soldier" Graves warns.. "I don't make threats. I make guarantees. So, let's not do this"

Johnny turns abruptly and growls "I'm calling Shepherd"

"General Shepherd sends his regards" Bastard. bastard. bastard.

Johnny freezes.

"He told me y'all wouldn't take this well" Graves practically jokes... I grind my jaw underneath the mask.

"He knows about this?" the Lieutenant barks. I could tell that he was absolutely seething.

"He's put me in command of this operation from here on out. So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this" - condescending slimy wanker.

Johnny and the Lieutenant glance sideways at each other. I try to tap into their thoughts but I wasn't used to being up close and personal with a ticking time bomb. I was used to sniping and sneaking...

"And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of a negotiation? It's not. I've got my orders and now you have yours" Graves continues, adding salt to the wound..

That comment is what breaks Alejandro's , already fragile, resolve. He lifts his upper lip and growls "And who the fuck do you think you are, cabron? My men are inside!"

Graves chuckles, "I'm afraid not. Your men have been... detained"

I see the absolute death glare Alejandro gives Graves before he launches himself at him.

Graves and one of the Shadows standing beside me push Alejandro against a vehicle and restrain him with a zip tie.

"Graves, what the fuck?!" Johnny shouts, still confused and shocked. Poor Johnny - why did he seem shocked? The guy's been creepy from the beginning..

The Shadow beside Graves opens fire on Johnny, I audibly gasp. All hell breaks loose.. I fire messily to begin with - not sure where everyone was seeing as they'd all moved so suddenly.

Alejandro screams "Get your fucking hands off of me--"

Graves grabs him by the hair and knocks him out with the butt of his rifle.

Graves then turns his attention back to Johnny. Johnny manages to grab a shadow's sidearm and fires at one of Graves' men, killing him, he aims at me, and fires. I jump, in fear before remembering that I am a Shadow right now. And they're gonna shoot at anyone that looks like a Shadow. I needed to be smarter about this now.

I glance to where the Lieutenant kills a Shadow with a knife. Man's a killing machine, alright..

My attention is snapped away by a sharp roar.

Graves had shot Johnny. My body convulses and I shoot three Shadows in quick succession. Pure terror and rage taking over my insticts.

Johnny falls backward to the ground with his dead hostage Shadow on top of him.

Graves steps away from me to his right to look around the vehicle. He was looking for the Lieutenant. I spot Ghost, who pops his head out from the vehicle's rear corner and finds Johnny on the ground.

I hear him shouting "Go, Johnny!, get out of there! Soap - Go!"

Johnny pushes the dead Shadow off of him and launches himself over the concrete barrier sliding down the hill as Graves' men fire on him.

shit shit shit

"Get him - Now!" Graves shouts. I feel a hard push on my shoulder and turn to face whoever had shoved me. It was Graves. "Pull your fuckin' weight Soldier" he growls at me, hanging me by the Shadow standard tactical vest. FUCK.

"Yup Yup" Where the fuck did that come from. He drops me and shoves me towards the direction that Johnny had fallen. I see multiple Shadows on his tail. Think Laika, THINK!

I hear a loud "Fuck!" from up ahead. It was Johnny. I run past a dead Shadow but then notice a discarded gun. Johnny must have ran out of ammo. I've got to catch up with him...

"You there, Ghost? That was a big mistake, brother. It did not have to be like this" I hear from behind me.. fuck, they'd caught him.. he had to be surrounded...

There is a long silence with no words spoken or bullets shot.. Sorry for leaving you, Lieutenant... I hope he is okay...

"SONOVABITCH... Find 'em!" Graves barks...

Had he escaped..? had he actually managed to trick them..?

I find myself praying to any God that will listen that we somehow all manage to get out of this shit show alive...

A radio that I didn't know I had crackles to life inside my mask reminding me of my current situation.

"Shadows - We've lost em' all... FUCK - FIND THEM.. FUCKING FIND THEM" Graves roars down the comms. Lots of 'yup yups' stream back through, along with distant gunfire and yelling.

"We've got Alejandro - no fuckin' Omega of his though! The task force are gone - got a good hit on Mohawk though.. he won't last long.. FUCKING GET MOVIN' BOYS. I want them by morning".. he continues, angrily screaming instructions.

I feel elated that Rudy has escaped.. but then my heart sinks when he says that Johnny won't last long. I need to find him.. and fast...

"And the girl.. I want her... ALIVE, understood?"

My blood runs cold.

[anyacad0]

My attempt at a rough timeline for the high cloud quintet (I won't include actual Amber Era years because that whole system is a mess. I'm just going to talk about events relative to each other)

First off, roughly 800 years before the main story of Honkai: Star Rail begins, Foxian cloud knight and Nameless Baiheng is sent as part of a delegation from the Xianzhou Yaoqing for the Xianzhou Zhuming. Given that the average Foxian lifespan is 300 years, and she still looks relatively young shortly before her death roughly 100 years later, I'd say she's around 100 years old at this point in the story. When the delegation goes to meet general Huiayan, they also meet one of his apprentices: a short-life human by the name of Yingxing, who at the time was probably a teenager, similar in maturity to Yanqing and Yunli. Baiheng learns that he is perhaps the only survivor of a world destroyed by the borisin, and that he made it to the Xianzhou in hopes of getting revenge. However, he's unsure if he'll actually be able to make any kind of difference due to his short lifespan.

Around this time, Jingliu also takes on Jing Yuan as an apprentice. Although she appears young, it's actually been centuries since her childhood and the destruction of the Xianzhou Cangheng. In fact, she's already old enough to be at risk for becoming mara-struck, but her body and mind are in a healthy state, likely tempered by her devotion to the way of the sword. Jing Yuan, meanwhile, is still a child, as seen in his animated short where he's very young when Jingliu starts training him. He comes from an unremarkable realm-keeping commission family, but is much more fascinated with the cloud knights.

No more than ten years later, Yingxing transfers the the Xianzhou Luofu for unknown reasons. A few years after that, the Luofu holds a Wardance, at the climax of which a new sword champion will be crowned. For the sword champion's prize, Yingxing forges a weapon called the shard sword, which is made of an incredibly dense metal and takes unrivalled skill to wield. Meanwhile, a warrior from Belobog named Igor Haft also participates in the Wardance and befriends Jing Yuan, who is now a lieutenant of the cloud knights. Unfortunately, he's unable to do anything for Belobog in his currrent position, and has to say goodbye to Igor as he leaves empty-handed to go back and defend his home.

Jingliu, of course, wins the Wardance, and is able to wield the shard sword in battle. Around this time, Yingxing and Jing Yuan become rivals, then friends, with the young lieutenant taking a liking to a different weapon Yingxing forged- the devastator glaive, which incorporates fragments of the Hunt's lux arrow. As for Baiheng's weapon, a recurve bow which could shoot multiple arrows at a time, it's unclear when exactly it was forged. I suspect it was before the Wardance, since Yingxing and Baiheng were already friends, so he probably made it for her once he was skilled enough.

You'll notice I haven't mentioned Dan Feng at all. That's because I'm having the same problem as with any other discussion related to him- although the game will gladly tell you about the sinner who betrayed his entire homeland, it's almost impossible to learn about the actual person. As for his age, that's also difficult- Vidyadhara have individual lifespans of seven centuries, but don't seem to age age physically once they reach adulthood. The fact that he's so closed off doesn't help, since he pretty much acts like an adult regardless of his actual age. He could be anywhere between 200 and 500 years old at this point. So everything I'm about to say about him is entirely conjecture- First, the only thing we know about how he met any of the others is that he chose to become Jingliu's sparring partner after seeing her in action. Potentially during the Wardance, but she was a well-renowned swordmaster even before that, so it could have been much earlier. We know that Yingxing made cloudpiercer for him specifically, but was it a gift or a commission? Were they already friends at that point? And again, when? I wouldn't be surprised if he somehow met Yingxing first, before the others, since he was the only person who Dan Feng seemed to actually open up to, but I have no proof because the game really just doesn't want to tell us about him.

Anyways, after the high-cloud quintet was formed, they quickly made a name for themselves, taking down a significant number of widely feared abominations. During this time, it's unclear how close they actually were- evident in how little Jing Yuan and especially Jingliu seem to know about Dan Feng as a person 700 years later, and the fact that they fell apart so badly after Baiheng's death.

One thing I've never seen mentioned is a brief comment in Jingliu's Blade's companion quest where it's revealed that Yingxing spoke pretty casually about living to 100 years old, something that modern-day humans often don't do. This makes a lot of sense since the Xianzhou is a very advanced civilisation. So even though he was in good enough physical condition to fight an emanator and didn't appear that old physically, he was likely over a century by the time shit happened.

Then, Shuhu appeared. It's still not entirely clear why. There are two most likely explanations. One: it was revived by followers of Abundance hiding on the Luofu, such as the disciples of Sanctus Medicus. Two: the "maddened, frenzied dragon" sealed in the roots of the Arbor by the Luofu's first high elder was Shuhu, and it either broke free of the seal, or someone else broke out, again, most likely the followers of the Abundance. Or Dan Feng, perhaps? We still don't know enough about his intentions to rule out the possibility. I won't go in depth on the Sedition, since this is a post collating information rather than theorising, but just know that this is when it happens.

General Teng Xiao was present in the battle against Shuhu, according to Xueyi's character stories, but Jing Yuan's first problem as general was dealing with the aftermath of Dan Feng's actions. Therefore, it's pretty likely that Teng Xiao died in that battle. Following the sedition, Dan Feng and Jingliu were detained. It's less clear what happened to Yingxing- if he was also detained in the Shackling Prison, he wouldn't have been able to escape, so it seems more likely that he escaped the Luofu in the chaos following the sedition.

Jingliu, now mara struck, escaped the shackling prison and killed all of the cloud knights who were sent after her. Jing Yuan then went after her himself, finally surpassing his master. However, she somehow survived and went missing. Dan Feng, meanwhile, was initially sentenced to death, but the sentence was commuted to molting rebirth and banishment, supposedly in light of past merit, but more likely because the Xianzhou couldn't afford to give up that kind of power. As for his execution, it might have been delayed quite a long time due to Political Nonsense.

An unclear amount of time later, probably several centuries, Jingliu as able to make a deal which restored her lucidity, although the integrity of her sanity remains to be seen. She teamed up with Luocha, intending to destroy Yaoshi once and for all. Around this time, she also discovered Yingxing, wandering alone on some abandoned planet. She decided to "teach" him swordplay by killing him thousands of times over, although according to Blade's character stories, Yingxing only died once- after Jingliu killed him, she left Blade in his place, and effectively brainwashed him into seeking revenge on Dan Feng's reincarnation.

Speaking of which: centuries after the sedition, Dan Feng was reborn as Dan Heng, still detained in the shackling prison. As expected, many were reluctant to follow through on the "banishment" part of his sentence. Still, Jing Yuan was intent on giving his old friend a second chance, as well as taking such a powerful bargaining chip away from his political opponents on the Luofu, so after multiple decades, and with help from the Yaoqing's high elder, he was able to get Dan Heng exiled.

Still, those decades had left their mark on Dan Heng, to the point where he outright rejected his past, and therefore part of himself, so that he wouldn't be seen as the monster he'd been taught about. It's probably because of this denial that he retained almost none of his past life's memories- as he wondered the universe, he was found by Blade over and over again, but didn't recognise the remains of his old friend, instead assuming that Blade was one of Dan Feng's enemies.

Later, Blade was found and enlisted by the Stellaron Hunters, joining voluntarily on the condition that he would be able to truly die at the script's curtain call. At the same time, Dan Heng was picked up by the astral express, and although he intended to disembark as soon as possible, he found himself unable to resist the genuine concern and hospitality of the crew members, eventually becoming one of the Nameless.

And I believes that's it- the entire timeline of the high-cloud quintet, excluding theories and unconfirmed information, prior to the beginning of the main story. It really didn't feel that big inside my head, but looking at how much I've managed it write, it makes a lot of sense as to why so many people misunderstand these characters and the lore behind them.

[lisenberry]

Blend In

Suggestive/Explicit Language, Mystery 141 x F!Reader.

MDNI!

1111k words (heavy on the -ish)

For @the-californicationist Nameless Challenge!

Congrats on 500K words, Cali!!

Put your guess in the comments as to who you think it is!

You had no idea why you’d been chosen for this assignment, but you were not going to argue.  Certainly not with him.

Keeping any doubts to yourself, you checked the mirror in the bathroom one last time before exiting into the hotel room you shared with your teammate.  Well, not your teammate yet, but if all went well, your fingers were crossed for a spot on his elite task force. 

“What do you think, sir?”

As a mere corporal, just about everyone had a higher rank than you.  There was the distinguished Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish.  Big (huge) shoes to fill, but you were ready to prove yourself.

“It’ll…do,” he muttered, turning his head quickly towards the surveillance equipment set up on the nearby desk.  “And don’t call me that.  We’re undercover, remember?” 

“Do I get a code name or something?  You all have badass nicknames, and I’m just...the new girl.”  You shrugged your shoulders and tried not to fuss over the plunging depth of your neckline that barely covered your pushed-up boobs, or the uncomfortable way the fabric hugged your hips.

“No, New Girl is the new girl.  You’re—Ah, fuck.  Here we go.  Time to get out there.”  He picked up something on the camera feed of the hotel’s ballroom and pointed to it with his finger.  “Target’s moving.”

“Who picked this dress?�� I thought I was supposed to blend in.  It’s obscene for a wedding.”

“Not for an oligarch’s wedding.  Tits up, back straight, and do your job.”  He gave you one last look over, dragging his gaze up to meet yours, finally, before giving you an encouraging nod.

“Aye, aye.  Sir.”  You couldn’t help but add the last with a bold smirk.  Maybe it was the dress, or the mission, or the unexpected glint in his eye, but you had a good feeling about this.

********

You’d been gone for only ten minutes, and he was already doubting every aspect of this assignment.  As the only fluent Russian speaker who didn’t scream special forces in the ranks, you’d been the easy choice.  But you were also soft around the edges, and sweet as hell, with a smile and an inner kindness that would lower anyone’s defenses. 

What the fuck you were doing in the military, or how you’d made it this far, he had yet to figure out.

He’d only agreed to this at all because the stakes were low, as was the risk of danger.  All you needed was a cigarette butt or a discarded champagne glass.   A piece of cutlery left behind on a tray.  Even just a partial fingerprint would be enough for Laswell to make a positive ID.

He was not prepared for you to strike up a conversation with the third most lethal psychopath on the watch list, or let him put his hand on your ass and squeeze you close to his hips as he whispered suggestively in your ear. 

“Careful, sweetling,” your commanding officer gritted low into his radio.  The comms device in your ear was undetectable, but he didn’t want to startle you or alert the target that you were in contact with someone.

It could also pick up your conversation, not that he understood any of what you were saying.   It seemed to be mostly flirty banter and coy laughter.  The man was obviously trying to get in you back to his room.

He didn’t know much Russian, but he knew enough about men’s appetites to get the idea.  He’d had his own thoughts, just the good sense not to say them out loud.

And he could not believe what he was seeing on the camera.  A sudden, sinking flood of anxiety made him jump in his chair and clench his fists at the stress.  You were going with the man, following him as he escorted you out somewhere beyond the surveillance feed.

“Do not leave that ballroom.  I can’t track you out there.  Get back.  Abort!”

He knew you could hear him, but you weren’t following orders.  Being ignored was most certainly the root of his blinding rage, not his concern for your safety.  Or the hungry way the bastard had looked at you in the dress he’d handpicked himself for the way the color made your skin practically glow. 

The cut and size may have been a miscalculation, he admitted to himself, as he checked the clip in his handgun and hurried toward the door.   

“Fucking hell.  You’re going to get yourself killed, and if you don’t, then I’ll do it myself.  When I get my bloody hands on you, Cupcake, I swear—”

“Cupcake?  That’s the best you can do?”  You stood on the other side of the door, with your hands on your hips as he pulled it open, with a fierceness you’d only heard about from other recruits.

Suddenly directed at you, it was worse than you’d imagined.  He looked ready for war as his words caught in his throat. 

“There you are.  You’re alright?”

“I got his prints on my purse, his DNA on my tits, and a retina scan on my phone.  And his phone, for shits and giggles.”  You quickly held up your loot for his inspection, before he could catch his breath long enough to lecture you on your recklessness.

He swiped a big hand along his mouth for composure, but he still looked like he wanted to kill something.  Mostly you.

“DNA?”  His eyes darkened quickly, somehow even more than before, as he looked from your face to your aforementioned tits.

“Saliva, big guy.  I’m committed, but not that committed.  Calm down.”  But he didn’t of course, because you’d never actually seen him relaxed.  At least not around you. 

You’d heard stories that he was a generally likable bloke once you got to know him.  Earned his trust.  Maybe someday you would get to see that side of him.  From the looks of it, this wasn’t it.

“Your country thanks you for your service.”  He deadpanned, not appreciating your snark.  

“What about you, sir?  Did I make the team?”  You shifted on your heels hopefully, still brimming with energy from knocking out a man twice your size, watching him piss himself, and staging the scene to look like he’d passed out on his own.

“I’ll put in a request to my commanding officer as soon as we get back.” 

“Really?”  You stifled the urge to hug him in your excitement.

“No.  You’re never allowed to leave the base again.”

You weren’t deterred as you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue behind his back.  You’d wear him down.  One way or another.

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero chapter 3

masterlist | taglist | AO3

Previous | Next

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Meeting another person after 2 years of loneliness was not supposed to be like this.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I don't know... I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I think I reread it and edited it too many times. From this chapter, what happens after days 730... will be in the present tense because, for example, in the next chapter we will return to day 64, of course it is described in the past tense, so it just seems logical to me. I'm not changing chapters 1 and 2, I hope you don't mind. I think I've been spending too much time on this story and I'm starting to think too much.

Thank you all for your positive feedback. You don't even know how much this means to me <3

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Chapter 3: The one when you met

Day 730

Ghost

There are plenty of things in this damn city that he will never run out of. When Ghost was left almost alone, with Riley by his side of course. Already in the first days, the man noticed that there were things here that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Even when he's gone, many of these items will remain in his warehouses for years to come.

Ironically, what he needed the least, alcohol and clothes.

He was never a demanding person. He didn't expect much from life. He was a rather simple man. A roof over his head, a supply of food, a place to train and peace of mind. So when he realized that this city was only his, he was very happy and satisfied. Not that he hated people. It was just better when they were as far away from him as possible. Somewhere in the background, preferably far from his sight and hearing. For many years he felt irritated by the closeness of another person. Of course, there were a few people who managed to get under the lieutenant's shell and understand his moods, behavior and motivations. However, there were few of them. That's right, they were.

In the army, he worked with several people. For many years he had no one outside of work. No family. No other relatives or friends. So when the captain sent him to a well-deserved rest after another long and hard mission. Ghost couldn't find his place for the first few days. He was simply irritated by mundane, everyday things. Going to the bank, store, clinic or even the gym. Too many people. Everywhere. Constant conversations, gesticulations. Noise.

Too much.

So he was grateful for the development of technology. When he could finally sit in front of his computer in the comfort of his own home and get things done in the office or via an app on his phone. The less contact with other people, the better. That's what he thought.

Now that Riley is missing, the soldier wonders about the meaning of his life. If the world had in some way done him a favor by removing other people from his surroundings, why did he have to take away the one being that made him feel alive. That his life has any meaning.

He wasn't a monster. Of course not. It wasn't like he was hoping for some kind of annihilation of humanity, that he would be the sole survivor on earth and be able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He just wanted some peace, on his terms.

However, he felt no sadness or regret as he patrolled the empty streets or checked another empty building.

He had lost too many loved ones in the past to grieve over nameless strangers now.

He shouldn't drink. He knows it perfectly well. Two years. 730 days of sobriety. He had promised himself that big day, he had promised Riley, that he would never feel that burning liquid in his throat again. So that he won't become such a madman when alcohol starts circulating in his system again.

So that he does not become his own father. He couldn't even think of this person as someone close to him. Disgusting creature. Reflective sadists. Sperm donor and that's it. Which should never have existed. He buried that monster a long time ago. Just like Ghost buried his own self.

Apart from losing Riley, this was the man's greatest fear in his life. That by drinking alcohol and getting closer to people, he would show them who he really was. That he was just like his twisted psychopathic father.

And he didn't want to be like that, he couldn't. He preferred to hide behind the façade of a domineering, boorish lieutenant in a mask. Pushing others away from himself. The further, the better. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

He preferred to be alone.

He wore a mask almost all the time. He hid his face from the world. He never showed his true self. He hid his identity and the man he was behind a piece of cloth.

Now that it was just him and the dog, he didn't have to cover his face.... And although sometimes in the morning he was looking for a black mask on the nightstand out of habit, he got used to the pleasant feeling of air on the skin of his face. If necessary, he placed a few masks here and there. Just in case someone, somehow showed up in his town.

Now, standing in the pantry with his heart pounding, he unhesitatingly reaches to the back of one of the shelves where he hid the alcohol.

He purposely hid the bottles in the back of the cabinets behind other things so that every time he looks here, he won't notice the colorful bottles at all.

So that nothing would tempt him.

Pulling out a bottle of bourbon, he moved the cans of food and didn't hesitate. He feels that if he does not immediately drown his sadness in a glass of amber drink, he will not be able to bear the pain of another loss. Looking at the label, he smiles to himself. Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15 years 107 proof*. Searching the homes of these rich people had some benefits. Rich motherfuckers who didn't know what to do with their money bought everything expensive. The more zeros in a line, the better.

When he returns to the office, he doesn't even look at the surveillance system.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Day 731

Ghost

He lost himself. He drank himself unconscious. It was long after sunrise, it is even after noon.

“Dammit”

Ghost mutters, slowly getting up from the chair he fell asleep in a few hours earlier.

He should have been looking for the dog since dawn. He shouldn't give up. He shouldn't lose hope. However, when he lost sight of the dog, something inside him broke. It reminded him too much of the previous two times he'd lost loved ones. He lost control again. Something thwarted his plan. He lost his stability. Monotony, life according to plan.

Barely walking, tripping over his feet and knocking several things off the dresser, he reaches the bathroom. He doesn't care about anything anymore. Everything is the same to him.

When rinsing her face with water, he does not look at her reflection in the mirror. He can't look into his own eyes. Again, he directs his steps to the pantry. To get another bottle. Ghost has already lost count, another bottle to forget.

It didn't matter. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore.

Wobbling on his feet, he returns to the small room, sits in the chair at the desk and takes a few sips straight from the bottle. Regret - he finally feels it. Another sip. Drown, drown. And he only hopes that alcohol will soothe this feeling, that it will help him fill the void he feels after Riley's disappearance.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Day 732

Ghost

Another day of drinking. Once he touched his lips and felt a sharp substance with his tongue. And he fell into a trance again. It was hard to break out of it. Constant drinking. Vicious circle. Another bottle and another. Let it burn, sting, hurt. Just to feel something. Physically.

Finally, as if something was calling to him, he struggled to get up from the chair and dragged the body to the kitchen, he decided he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting here. With a lot of thinking, wondering, blaming. He's not a victim, he's not. He has to look for the dog. Keep going. He can't show weakness. Even before himself. He felt a little embarrassed. That he gave up again. Too quick and easy. He looks at the mess he probably left behind the night he drunkenly tried to make himself something to eat.

“I'll deal with it later,” he muttered, heading towards the dressing room. Trying to keep his balance, he stops in the hall, next to the small surveillance room, and freezes.

One screen was active. Detected movement.

"Fuck..." Ghost is angry with himself, pissed off. That he hadn't thought about sitting in front of the screens and looking at the city earlier. But now wasn't the time to blame himself or dwell on the situation. He must finally take action.

Looking at the screen, the soldier can't believe his eyes. He not only sees his beloved dog on the screen. Who slowly walks through one of the streets. In the live footage, he sees a figure walking.

Person.

Alive.

Without thinking, he quickly runs to his room to change and grab his gun. It's definitely an ambush. No one in their right mind would wander in the middle of the street in a strange city in the middle of the day. With a dog by my side.

Bait.

Surely the rest of the group was waiting somewhere outside the city or on the roofs of buildings. He has to do something, he has to get Riley back. Adrenaline stimulates his body, his thoughts flow in one direction. Bring Riley home. Punish those who had the nerve to steal his dog.

He had never driven under the influence of alcohol, but he had no choice. It would take him too long to walk downtown, and he couldn't let the intruders get any closer to his house. Or worse, they'll leave town with his dog.

Besides, the only danger in driving a car in such an environment was himself. And he doesn't care about his own health and life.

Before leaving, he checks the camera again, the figure slowly approaches the City Hall building.

"Easy target" Ghost smiled, plenty of space to capture. He loads his gun and runs out the door as fast as he can, his fingers firmly wrapped around the sniper rifle.

While driving through the city streets, he tries to focus on driving straight, but at the same time he is constantly looking around for a potential threat. It definitely has to be a larger group, Ghost is expecting several people. To his surprise, however, he doesn't notice anything unusual.

Finally he stops and he leaves the car a few blocks from the town hall and starts walking towards it. He hopes he's not late. That the intruder and his dog hadn't moved too far.

There were rather low buildings near the town hall, so a block earlier he turned left and headed to one of the skyscrapers, from where he would have a better view. A better place to attack. However, there is no time to enter it. He freezes in place because he hears Riley barking and then a human voice. A woman's voice.

“Shit…”

He muttered through his teeth. Of course he might have expected a group of travellers to send a woman or a child out to scout. To stir up sympathy only to have someone lose their guard.

He has to play it differently. He looks around the street and decides to enter the restaurant on the corner, remembering that there is a passage inside and he will have a perfect view of the street where the town hall was located. As he walks through the abandoned building, he mentally curses himself for drinking so much. Adrenaline helps him focus and stay upright, but he fears what will happen if he ends up having to aim his gun. When he reaches the storefront overlooking City Hall, he freezes.

Woman pets Riley tenderly and happily says something to him.

Dog seemed to sense his presence because it sits on its hind legs and looks towards the building where the soldier is.

Without thinking, Ghost raises his gun and takes aim.

He must get the dog back and show the strange travelers that they cannot take what is his. That he is in charge.

Fractions of seconds. Ghost pulls the trigger, shoots. The woman falls forward. Without even realizing the threat standing in the dark building in front of her. She falls, but not from the shot. There is not a single drop of blood. No screaming in pain.

It was Riley who pulled her over. He saved her. He protected her from the bullet.

Assessing the situation, Ghost quickly leaves the building and continues to aim his gun at the lying woman.

He didn't expect this development, of all the possible scenarios that went through his head. He did not foresee, despite years spent on the battlefield, reading thousands of training materials.

That the dog would be against him and protect some random stranger.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Day 732

You

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible to rationally connect the facts: the shot, Riley pulling the leash and the fall. So much, in a split second.

But the only thing that is echoing in your head right now is whether or not Riley is okay.

So you don't notice the massive, tall and masked figure slowly walking towards you... The first thing you should do is check the condition of the dog. Riley. That's all that matters to you. You sit on your lap and look closely at the dog.

“Riley, oh boy, are you okay? Show yourself".

You check the dog, and after making sure that the dog is alright, you find no trace of blood or the slightest injury. Relieved, you slowly get back to your feet. Straightening up, you finally see with horror the figure standing in front of you who wanted to shoot you a moment ago. And now it's starting to dawn on you what just happened. What is really happening and that you are in great danger. You open your mouth and then close it, repeating this action several times, you want to say something. But what can you say at a time like this? No words come out of your throat.

“Stand where you're standing and let go of the leash”

The masked man growls lowly, slowly turning his gaze from you to the dog, slowly stepping closer to the two of you.

“Raise your hands above your head and don't move.”

You shiver with fear, chills running through your body. The sound of a man's low voice, any human voice other than yours after many months. Weird feeling. Irrational.

After a while, you finally recover and slowly raise your hands.

“Let go of damn leash!”

You look at the man with fear. It occurs to you that this must be the same man who left the letter on the tower. Anyone else could be masked and not call themselves Ghost. He was tall, well built. He was dressed in tactical gear, a bulletproof vest and... a mask. This was no ordinary balaclava. A skull was attached to the material. The front part, with a fragment of the upper jaw, eye sockets, and forehead. It must have been a human skull. You involuntarily shiver harder in fear, trying to take a deeper breath. This was not what meeting another human being was supposed to be like. This wasn't what you expected.

Ghost will raise his gun higher, still pointing it at you.

“Riley. Heel.., come here"

He calls to the dog, breaking the terrible, prolonged silence. The confused dog stands up and takes one step towards the soldier. But he doesn't go any further.

“This… this dog is mine”

The words finally fall out of you, you muster up your courage and whisper, keeping your eyes on the man

“Don't take him away from me. Not again.”

“Your dog? I think you've got something wrong"

Ghost growled, clearly annoyed. His arm muscles visibly tense, this entire exchange makes no sense to him. Waste of time.

"Y-yes, he's mine..."

You start to say, trying to control the emotions you're feeling. You slowly lower your hands.

“I can prove it. Just let me”

Regardless of the fact that the gun is constantly pointed at you, you have to prove it to him and keep the dog with you. No matter what, at any cost. You want to reach into your backpack and take out that old worn-out photo that you still carry with you to this day. One of the few souvenirs you have kept from your past life.

“Hands up, damn it, I'm not playing any games. Give the dog back and leave town."

Ghost shouts, you can see that he is becoming more and more irritated by your behavior.

“You can take everything you find and leave my city. Riley stays where he belongs - with me."

You shake your head negatively, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying not to cry

“No, the dog is mine.”

“Oh, damn it, I don't have all day for unnecessary discussions. Tell your people not to come back here again. Or at least have the courage to show up in person and not send a woman. Pathetic".

As he says this, he finally lowers the gun and pats his thigh, trying to get the dog's attention.

“Riley! Heel!”

Thinking little, or probably not thinking at all, you reached into your backpack and opened the zipper, looking for a photo.

“Dammit, kid, you don't understand what I'm telling you. Leave the dog and fuck off."

You don't care anymore, if you were to leave this city without your dog, you'd rather die here. Now, at this moment.

You take out the photo, which you have carefully secured to prevent any further damage. You raise your hand, holding the photo, and try to stop it from shaking. Despite your emotions, you calmly say to masked man

"Look, this is my dog. Mine. Look, Riley's missing a piece of his ear. You see? Dog in this photo doesn't have it either…”

The man hesitates for a moment, but decides to approach and take a closer look at the photo in your hand.

“That doesn't prove anything,” Ghost starts to say, but you interrupt him

"What do you mean? How many dogs of this breed have such a wound? How many have a black collar with an engraving on the back, with the exact name and phone number?"

As you say this, you state what is written on his collar

“You could take this off him and read it.”

"How do I know there's something written inside?"

There was silence. Another long, tiring one. You looked at each other without saying a word.

The man was taller than you and towered over you, his broad frame creating a shadow above you, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. As if he was trying to read what was going on in your head.

You feel a little dizzy. The whole situation was so strange, so surreal. This wasn't what my first conversation with another human being in two years was supposed to look like. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. At least it wasn't what you imagined.

There's something wrong with the man across from you. Weird, dark, terrifying. His attitude irritates you and something inside you finally breaks. You explode.

“Ghost, listen…”

You started, raising your voice slightly

“I don't know what your intentions are, why you're so defensive about this town and this dog. But I came here alone! ALONE! I haven't seen a living person in two fucking years. I don't understand what kind of travelers you're talking about and why you don't want to admit that this dog is mine. But... but I don't want to leave, not after finding Riley."

When you say this, you look at the dog that sat between you and the soldier. Riley lay down, as if he was also tired of all the strange interaction between two people he knew, through which he was confused.

Ghost remains silent, never taking his eyes off you, as if wondering what to do. Pros and cons.

Finally, the sound of the watch interrupts his persistent gaze, and the man sighs loudly, as if resigned, and says

“Let's just say… I believe you. Temporarily”

The man secures the gun and hangs it on his shoulder. Seeing this, an involuntary smile appears on your face.

“Come on, kid, it's late. We have to go” 

Ghost points to the sun, which is slowly starting to hide behind the buildings

"We'll finish this conversation somewhere else. Come on, both of you."

He waves his hand and points in the direction to go.

“Go ahead, I'll watch your back.”

The walk to the car doesn't take long, and you're glad that you won't have to walk another distance on your still scarred and aching legs.

"No way!"

You scream in shock when you see a large, dark pickup truck parked in the cul-de-sac.

“You have a working car! I couldn't find..."

Standing at the passenger door, a man interrupts you, stands next to the trunk and you open the hatch

“Riley, get in. You sit in the back too”

He points to the trunk of the pickup truck

"What? Are you kidding me?"

This man was behaving absurdly. You guess that years of loneliness made him unable to behave socially. He forgot what it was like to interact with another living person.

“Just. Get. In. And don't whine unless you want to walk to the tower. You know the way.”

The man looked at you without blinking.

“To the tower? Why are we going to the tower?”

You say in disbelief, letting go of another exchange of words, slowly climbing into the trunk and sitting down next to the dog. Ghost closes the trunk, making sure the dog is safe, and gets behind the wheel.

“We need to visit your companions. Since they're not in town, they're probably waiting for you there. You know my name, so you must have read the letter.”

As the car starts moving, you start to wonder if you did the right thing by getting into the trunk. Letting a stranger take you away, God knows where. There was something wrong with this man. He thought Riley was his and that you weren't coming to town on your own. Maybe he too, like you, has been living alone all these months. And he clearly couldn't cope with it. You hug the dog, just hoping that when you reach the tower, the man will finally believe you and let you stay.

Nevertheless, you did not want to be left on your own again. Only now did you feel how much you missed another living person. How much you needed to feel someone's presence. To know that you were not meant to live in isolation. You felt that the burden that had stuck with you through those many sleepless, weeping nights had finally fallen from your shoulders.

Maybe it was destiny.  This was your fate.

So, you accept it already.

Even if from now on, you will have to live with this strange, mysterious man in a mask.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis @poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497

[incorrect-mtg]

A Rose in the Desert

It started, like many things in her life, with a report from one of her many spies. A short missive whose message was hidden under a cypher of her own design:

"Selvala of Alberon has left Fiora"

Not Paliano. Fiora itself. It was curious enough that she had to investigate it.

The elven explorer had been a thorn on her side ever since her ascension to the throne, even if never to a significant enough degree to warrant any action. She brought legitimacy to Adriana's opposition, sure, but her days of politicking ended back before Brago's death. She was someone to keep an eye on, but never a priority. If she was planning to bring outside help, however, that was a different story.

So she set her spies into motion to find the when, the where and the how. If the elf meant to return, this would mean she found a stable omenpath and even without a rival's involvement that was the kind of thing the Queen of Paliano would rather have under her thumb. When the reports came back of Selvala exploring a different world filled with sand, cacti and a growing network of omenpaths? Oh, but that was striking gold!

This "Thunder Junction" was easy prey to Marchesa's well oiled political machine, spies spreading throughout the plane and quickly establishing lines of communication flowing by train and mount from its frontiers directly to her desk. It became such a point of interest that one of her advisors — the one whose job was to be bluntly honest, to keep her grounded — called it a growing obsession, and they weren't entirely wrong.

Because Marchesa had never been one to fight a battle she could lose. Her ascension to the throne had been the work of decades setting up everything so that even before a crown sat on her head she was already pulling all the strings.

Despite insurrectionist former guards and unprecedented phyrexian invasions, her reign was at this point a self-maintaining hold over everything that mattered in Paliano.

The fact that many of her political rivals had perished in the invasion — be it through phyrexian blades or not — meant that, despite all of the struggles of reconstruction, she kept feeling something she had never felt while setting up her own ascension:

Boredom.

How long had it been, really, since she had to do any ground work? To be the one holding the poisoned knife or the stolen missives, instead of ordering people to do her bidding?

Perhaps that was why Thunder Junction held her interest. A new garden for a rose to show her thorns.

Setting things up for a self-approved leave of absence was easy: she already had body doubles, of course, so it was simply a matter of choosing the best one for a prolonged act, then making sure her lieutenants would do their jobs without getting any silly ideas of subterfuge.

Queen Marchesa held court at the same time a nameless traveler arrived in Thunder Junction, her bag filled with her favorite knives and poisons, clothes that perfectly fit the local aesthetic and not a single plan or scheme set in stone.

The plane wouldn't know what hit it.

[braillevig]

Clouded Stars (A non-typical Honkai: Star Rail role swap AU): Belobog and Xianzhou Luofu Arcs

This is an AU where Dan Heng and Caelus swap roles where Dan Heng is the stellaron host and Caelus is the vidyadhara high elder. Along the way, some characters are also swapped and I have only written a few characters who are swapped.

Character List

Astral Express

Dan Heng (swapped with Caelus/alive (died once) - a young man resembling a Xianzhou native who contains a Stellaron and was created by the Stellaron Hunter Yukong before he was left in Herta's Space Station. After the Belobog arc, he became Caelus' lover. He soon became the archivist of the Astral Express.

Caelus (swapped with Dan Heng/alive) - the former literal nameless Vidyadhara who was the reincarnation of Qiong and was exiled from the Xianzhou Luofu. He was discovered by Welt Yang on a planet, starving and wishing to die before he joined the Astral Express to become a guard.

Belobog

Seele (swapped with Bronya/alive) - the rebellious adoptive daughter of Cocolia and the next Supreme Guardian of Belobog.

Bronya (swapped with Seele/alive) - the strict lieutenant of Wildfire who was adopted by Oleg.

Serval (swapped with Gepard/alive) - a scientist/mechanic-turned-captain of the Silvermane Guards after her little brother Gepard lost one of his arms.

Gepard (swapped with Serval/alive/mentioned) - after losing his arm, Serval trained him to build his own mechanical arm and to fix other machines.

Stellaron Hunters

Yukong (swapped with Kafka/alive) - the de-facto leader of the Stellaron Hunters and Dan Heng's "mother". She is an exiled Foxian after a reckless stunt in the Abundance War, who also excelled in technology.

Yanqing (swapped with Silver Wolf/alive) - the young exiled swordsman from the Xianzhou Luofu. While he is a swordsman, he also enjoyed video games and spent most of his money to buy swords from different worlds.

Jing Yuan (swapped with Yingxing/dead/alive) - the former Arbiter General candidate of the Xianzhou Luofu who was cursed with Mara after trying to trigger the Arcanum with Qiong. He soon ended up in the Stellaron Hunters with a grudge against Qiong's reincarnation - Caelus.

Xianzhou Luofu

Baiheng (swapped with Jingliu/alive) - the Foxian pilot who fell to Mara and exiles herself from the Xianzhou Luofu.

Jingliu (swapped with Baiheng/deceased) - Xianzhou Luofu's former sword champion who died during the war against Abundance while being cradled by Baiheng.

Yingxing (swapped with Jing Yuan/alive) - AKA Blade in Canon. He replaced Jing Yuan as a general candidate and became a general himself.

Qiong (deceased/reincarnated into Caelus/swapped with Dan Feng) - the Vidyadhara high elder named after the skies. He was executed after committing an unforgivable crime. Soon, his reincarnation would suffer the punishment meant for him.

Kafka (swapped with Yukong/alive) - the helm master of the Xianzhou Luofu working for Yingxing.

Silver Wolf (swapped with Yanqing/alive) - Kafka's protege and a warrior for the Cloud Knights.

Penacony (so far)

Acheron (Raiden Bosenmori Mei swapped with Kiana Kaslana/alive) - AKA Kiana Kaslana. A white-haired woman with blue eyes who is also a survivor of the planet Izumo. She is also an Emanator of Nihility whose hair turns black whenever she uses her full power. She used to know/forgot a certain woman.

Note: I have not yet developed the Penacony plot yet nor did I write the Baiheng/Jingliu companion mission fic.

The whole Clouded Stars series here!

The oneshot/drabble collection here

The Clouded Stars playlist here

[milkteaarttime]

Latte's New Hair!

Just a little short fic i whipped up of Latte's reason for growing her hair.

Thanks to @moosch for letting me reference Nameless!

The mundane clicks and clacks of the keyboard and mouse fill the med bay's rare silence. Latte is finishing her 12-hour shift with some charting, entering the necessary interventions she had completed, editing their charts, and updating wound dressing changes or evaluation results. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she softly sang. She typed up her handover notes while waiting for the oncoming shift nurse’s arrival to give them handover reports.

Two soldiers assisting a fellow private with a sprained ankle slowly strolled a few meters behind her. The trio of men sauntered toward the med bay exit. Their conversation turned from their favourite nurses to what kind of girls the men were into. Latte attempted to feign ignorance, not wanting to hear the juvenile locker room talk from the young men. But she did roll her eyes with mild disapproval, unknown to the three, who continued their callous topic.  

“Ohh Yeah, she's niceee. Called me ‘hun’ and ‘sweetie’ when she checked my shit.” the injured soldier proclaims as he describes his enjoyment in being called pet names by an older female nurse. 

“The blonde?”

“Yeah, man! With nice long hair, I like that in a gal.” the first affirms. 

“I getcha. I like 'em with long hair too.” the third soldier finally spoke up. 

“Short hair doesn't do it for me, it's too… Dude-like?” 

“Ehh, it's okay, but long is forreal better. Those high ponies or whatever they call it? Something for me to grab,” the second one crudely pronounces. The men laugh in agreement.

Latte’s face turns from a frown to worry as the soldiers chat. She reaches up, touching the layered, frayed ends of her hair—until the first one speaks again.

“Wait, nah, it depends on the style for me. A bob? Sure. Maybe even a neat pixie. I just really don't like those messy, shaggy, scattered types.” He shakes his head, 

“Looks like it’s burnt, uneven as fuck.” 

Latte freezes at the statement of disdain for messy hair layers. She takes out her phone and taps open the front camera. Using her phone as a camera, she turns her head at varying angles, observing her hair. It was roughly cut to get hair out of her face and for easy washing. It could be better, but it's okay. Right? It is better than looking burnt off. Right??

“Wait, guys. Shh! Look!” the third guy suddenly pipes up, pointing at Latte’s back when he notices her nearby. Latte hears them but pretends not to see, not wanting to engage with the men. 

“Oh yeah, wouldn't be into that–”

“No, dude, that's LT Walker’s girl. Shut up.” He cuts off his friend curtly, panic evident in his tone. But it seems like his friend is a tad denser. 

“Doesn't Hesh also like longer hair?” 

“I don't know, but she sometimes bakes treats for us when we get out here… And I’m not about to risk pissing off the Lieutenant! Let's skedaddle before she hears us.” 

The men shuffle out as fast as possible while helping their limping friend, leaving Latte to her thoughts.

She stares into her mirror that night, rubbing and twirling a lock of her messy hair between her fingers. Fluffing out the layers and analyzing the shape of her wolf cut. Her last cut was around a couple of months ago, and with her hair growing so fast, another trim was due. The layers are currently down to her shoulder blades, just a little longer, and she can tie it up.

After much contemplation and consideration, she sighs. She puts the thinning scissors back into their cover and steps into the shower. Opting to keep growing it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

A few months later, Hesh stepped out of the shower and walked to his room. He greeted Nameless as he passed her in the hallway, watching her enter Keegan’s room before slipping into his room where Latte sat. She was visiting him for the night. While he rubbed the towel on his head, drying the water droplets off his scalp, he eyed Latte’s silhouette from the back. Observing her in casual civilian clothing after work and tapping her pencil as she sat deep in thought, working through the practice exam questions. Walking up behind her, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head and gently smoothed her ponytail, whistling, impressed at the speed of the hair growth.

“Oh hey, I didn't realize it’s long enough to be put up now.” He pointed out, feeling the texture of her silky black tresses.

“Any reason for the change?”

Latte smiled warmly at Hesh and looked up from her license upgrade prep, the conversation she had overheard from those immature soldiers resurfacing in her mind. She chuckled and waved the thought away, 

“Just trying something new, nothing else to it.”

[docgold13]

Introduction

There are many, many super villains in the realms of fiction, comic books, cartoons and movies.  When encountering such villains, these costumed cads and dangerous dastards, it is of the utmost importance that one know the precise type of malefactor is at hand.  While no two villains are exactly alike, as a whole these scoundrels can be roughly categorized into a systemic taxonomy; a classification based upon the qualities of threat, capability and ambition.

This taxonomy is sequential in respect to the level of danger, commitment and aspiration.  It begins at a first rung with the lowly Goons, moving quickly to the dangerous Enforcers, then the mercurial Rogues, followed by the calculating Lieutenants and finally the Nemeses… the most dangerous villains of them all.  

Goons

First let us look at the Goons.  These are the minions, the henchmen and stooges who use their powers to do the bidding of a more sinister and scheming master. 

Goons can be quite formidable, possessing a great deal of raw strength and power.  Yet their lack of foresight, aspiration and direction leave them in the position of playing the role of pawns.  

Whether it be the result of laziness, naïveté, psychological difficulty or some manner of deficiency, Goons are easily manipulated.  They are frequently duped or cajoled into doing the bidding of others.  Sometimes they will perceive themselves as being equals with those they serve.  In truth, however, these misguided flunkies are almost always viewed as disposable... as mere vassals who will be sacrificed or simply discarded on a whim.  

Criminal organizations will frequently have numerous henchmen who are nameless and interchangeable.  What distinguishes a super villain Goon from the more garden variety lackey is their physical power and capacity for destruction.  They possess all the raw ability to be a more substantial menace but none of the imagination, presentation or drive. They simply lack the je ne sais quoi needed to be a more fully actualized embodiment of super villainy. 

And yet this does not make the Goon any less dangerous.   Indeed the Goon’s fragile ego coupled with their destructive capability can lead to threats on par with a natural disaster.  

Conversely, the Goon can sometimes be the most likely type of super villain to be turned, moved toward the path of heroism.  Most Goons just want to be seen and valued, to garner a place where they feel they belong.  More sophisticated villains will take advantage of this unmet need, offering the Goon a sense of purpose.   If a hero can convince a Goon that they are being manipulated and offer a more authentic sense of validation, the goon may very well switch sides and become heroic.  

For the most part, however, Goons are rather satisfied with their lot.  They are often simple souls with simple needs.  Being a Goon affords a sense of direction and license to be destructive bullies.  

The Enforcers

When the raw power of a super villain Goon is coupled with a heightened degree of shrewdness, confidence, avarice and capability, the end product is often The Enforcer. 

These are the mercenaries, assassins and bounty hunters… the guns-for-hire who are brought in for a specific task (commonly the elimination of a hero).  These villains are not interested in taking over the world, garnering power and influence, they just want to get paid.

Said payment is most often money... but prestige, thrills and a bolstering of one’s ego are also a commonly accepted currency.  Sometimes Enforcers will be pitted against a specific hero and the simple opportunity to best that hero, to show themselves as the superior entity, is motivation enough to take on the job.  They can be like big game hunters, in desperate search of a new and bigger trophy to add to their ever-growing collection.

Some enforcers may be motivated by mere boredom.  They tend to be thrill-seekers and super villainy is an irresistible rollercoaster that acts to quell the tedium.  It is not uncommon for there to be a degree of sadism to the enforcer... even psychopathy.  Their passion is doling out pain and destruction; they revel in being feared.  They are dangerous and unpredictable and will endeavor to succeed at any and all costs.  They are not to be taken lightly.  

It is not unheard of for Enforcers to have underlings of their own, aides or minions who will assist in their schemes.  Or they may work in conjunction with Goons.  Yet their values are strictly mercenary.  Their morals and philosophy are entirely for hire.  Some Enforcers may adhere to their own, personalized code of conduct... yet it is a strictly idiosyncratic (and often malleable) matter. 

Phrased simply, they are not individuals to be trusted; an Enforcer will turn on their employer the moment that it better suits their interests. Beware, my friends, Enforcers are danger incarnate...

Rogues

Rogues are outsiders, individuals who just do not fit in with the common and traditional conventionalities of a given society.  They are misfits, freaks, square pegs in a world of round holes.  Yet they also have power; they are capable, smart, ruthless and shrewd.  They do not fit in, but they do not need to; they can force their worlds to accommodate to them.  

Rogues are outlaws.  They take what they want when they want it.  Rarely is there an overarching agenda.  Rogues do not crave power, they do not want to rule the world.  They just enjoy a good time, desire the finer things and will take all that they feel they are owed. 

Many factors can go into the making of a Rogue.  Circumstances of their upbringing, their appearance, deprivations of different kinds, accidents… all maters that have put the Rogue in a place of alienation from society writ large.  In some regards they are victims, perhaps not always innocent victims, but victims nonetheless… and victims with agency.  For they have power and the capability to extract whatever vengeance or retribution they feel they deserve.

Not all Rogues are victims of misfortune.  Some merely possess a sense of entitlement and a desire for adventure.  Morality, for better or worse, is just not a central feature in the make up of the Rouge.  They see the world around them as a harsh and unforgiving realm and they will take what they want, do as they please, simply because they can.  They are not motivated by hate, avarice nor a diminished sense of self esteem.  They are supremely independent and the needs, feelings and wellbeing of others are not matters of any great concern.  

The super villain Rogue has much in common with the archetype of the Trickster from myths and fable.  Tricksters are breakers of boundaries who enjoy disrupting societal principles and norms.  These are often supernatural beings whose playful antics act to mock authority and question assumption.  Rogues are similar.  They too seek to disrupt authority, upset balance and turn social decorum unto its head.

Whereas many Tricksters of lore aim to teach lessons regarding the hubris of mankind, Rogues tend to be much more self-serving in their conduct.  Rogues are not agents of chaos, they just want to express their freedom and garner wealth and renown.

While Rogues often prefer to work on their own, they are by no means entirely above joining forces with other villains in working toward a mutually desired goal.  Although it is rare, a Rogue may even allow themselves to be employed by a Nemesis, a more diabolical cad whose overarching desires very much do not align with their own.  In these situations, the Rogue’s hand is either forced or they are simply biding their time for the ideal opportunity to engaged a well-planned and self-serving betrayal.  

It is the Rogue’s refusal to adhere to societal principles and the law that often brings them into conflict with heroes.  And the sympathetic qualities of the Rogue can sometimes cause a hero to question their own beliefs and moral alignment.  The Rogue represents a defiance toward the status quo of a given society... that existing state of affairs that maintains social and financial stratification.  The status quo is never an entirely fair system, it will always benefit some at the expense of others,...and it can be tempting to forcefully push back against the inequities that exist therein.  Indeed there have been many a hero who has fallen under the sway of a charismatic Rogue when made to see said inequities.

 And yet Rogues tend to be quite selfish.  They have been wronged and use it as an excuse to do whatever they please and put their own needs above all others.  In so doing they may end up hurting others in the same fashion they themselves had been hurt.  These Rogue could be heroes, yet frequently lack the sense of selflessness that truly makes a hero heroic.

Under the right circumstances, however, the Rogue can find themselves in the role of the antihero... acting as a protagonist despite lacking the traditional qualities most often associated with heroism.  This is most often the case when the Rogue’s goals put them into opposition with another villain, particularly a villain much more vile than themselves.

Although some Rogues may fit into the role of an antihero, it does not necessarily make them any less dangerous.  The primary characteristic of a Rogue is a rejection of the normative confines of a society.  And this can include the confines of morality.  The Rogue will resort to murder and mayhem if they deem it a necessity.  So beware, my friends, beware.      

The Lieutenants

In some regards, Lieutenants are the villainous analog to the hero’s sidekick.  They are the primary right-hand operatives of the arch villain… an amalgamation of a partner, field commander, conciliary and moll.  They are neither a Nemesis nor a Goon, but something in between.  

Quite often the Lieutenant will be a good deal more competent, pragmatic and even more intelligent compared to the villain they serve.  They could easily be a leader in their own right, yet lack the megalomania that is at the heart of a true Nemesis.  What these lieutenants do possess, however, is a deeply seated need to belong... to have a parental-like figure that offers direction and purpose.   Some even love the villains they serve and remain at their side for this reason alone.  

Lieutenants crave power and respect, they feel a poignant need for validation and this will often lead them to battle against the heroes with vigorous intensity.  They can be the most dangerous kind of villain of them all in that they are highly motivated and intelligent as well as desperate to succeed; almost like a child who will do anything to win the approval of a parent.  

The neurotic nature of the Lieutenant’s motivation frequently leaves them a good deal less sadistic and malevolent compared to the Nemeses they serve.  They are not bloodthirsty or callous; many may even have care for the innocent lives that a dastardly plot might harm.  And yet the need for approval acts to outweigh any moral qualms they may possess. That being said, it is not entirely unheard of that a Lieutenant will turn on their leader if the destructive stakes become far too high.  

Somewhat akin to the Goon (or even the Rogue), the Lieutenant possesses the potential to turn to the side of good, to be redeemed and become something of a hero.  The Lieutenant is highly capable and shrewd, but not above manipulation.  Often times they will find themselves in the service of a master who does not have their best interests in mind. 

Discovering that they are not as valued by their leader as they may have thought can help the Lieutenant rediscover their sense of honor... a clearer picture of right and wrong.  Herein there becomes an increased likelihood that the Lieutenant will turn and aide the heroes... possibly even become a hero themselves.  

Of course this is not to say that every Lieutenant possesses a staunch code of honor or secret heart of gold.  Some are just as rotten and despicable as the cads they serve.  They have pled fidelity to their masters and many see the orders they have been issued as on par with a godly and righteous decree.

At the same time that many Lieutenants are unquestioningly loyal, others can be duplicitous.  Again, it is not uncommon that a Lieutenant will actually be more competent compared to those they serve.  And some possess the ambition to usurp their masters, concocting fiendish schemes to depose their leader, take control and ostensively matriculate to the position of the Nemesis.

This particular dynamic is quite often at play with the ‘secret lieutenant.’  This is something of a subcategory reserved for those second-in-commands who are initially believed to be the primary villain… only for it to be later revealed that there is an entity even more diabolical above them.  

Nemeses often cherish their anonymity, preferring to remain a more secretive threat from behind the proverbial curtain.  To this extent they need a Lieutenant to stand in as their vassal.  It is not uncommon for these proxies to be misidentified as the primary Nemesis.  And more often than not, these secret Lieutenants become accustomed to the power they wield... harboring resentment toward the shadowy overlords that they secretly serve.  Sometimes they will take action to achieve their ambitions… yet it rarely works in their favor and a Lieutenant’s efforts to usurp their masters will frequently have deadly consequences.  

There are reasons after all, that Lieutenants and Lieutenants and Nemeses are Nemeses.  The qualities that make for a true Nemesis are as insidious as they are dangerous.  They are not so easily overtaken nor replaced.

Nemeses

This brings us to the are the baddest of the bad… the arch foes, the megalomaniacal would-be conquerers whose devilish schemes put us all in grave peril.  The pinnacle of villainy; the foil to all things good, selfless, noble and heroic.  The Nemesis!

The primary feature to the Nemesis is their motivation.  They have a keen notion of how things should be and will stop at nothing toward imposing their will so to bring their goals to fruition.  Such goals may be power, conquest, revenge or the acquisition of fabulous wealth (or all of the above).  Regardless, the Nemesis believes that fulfilling this goal is a righteous purpose, that it is a destiny ordained unto them by some manner of a divine source.  

Most Nemeses do not see themselves as evil.  They are the heroes of their own stories and believe themselves to be in the right.  Furthermore, any who oppose them represent an effrontery that need be eliminated with extreme prejudice.  Theirs is a glorious purpose and nothing nor no one may be allowed to obstruct their destiny.  

With such lofty ambitions, it is frequently necessary for these Nemeses to create elaborate organizations… secret and sinister syndicates composed of various operatives, agents, minions and flunkies.  The Nemesis can be extremely charismatic ideologues and they usually have little difficulty in recruiting scores of cronies and henchmen willing to lay down their lives in the service of a master.  Whist some Nemeses have to resort to paying their underlings or at least putting forth the promise that the toiling will result in power and riches, most are simply able to amass a loyal following through their magnetic charm alone.

The true qualities of the Nemesis often comes into greater focus in juxtaposition to their arch enemy.  The primary foe of the Nemesis acts to define them, highlighting their traits in contrast to their opposite.  The more good and pure the hero the more twisted and evil their nemesis. One acts to complete the other like two sides of a scale equally balanced.

Indeed it is not unusual for a Nemesis to become obsessed with their arch foe... so much so that many Nemeses may even hesitate at the opportunity to finally vanquish said foe.  They can come to feel actualized by the conflict and may fear a loss of identity were their enemy to be truly eliminated. 

Many heroes will have multiple arch enemies, but Nemeses themselves are more exclusive, monogamous in who they see as their principle foe.  Furthermore, they can be quite jealous when it comes to the attention of their arch enemies.  So much so that it is not unheard of for a Nemesis to lend a hand to their foe in doing away with a third party interloper.     

Not every Nemesis is cut from the same cloth.  Some can be mere mustache-twirlers… finks who commit evil deeds for the mere sake of it.  The more memorable and fully actualized Nemesis, however, is complex and nuanced.  There is an element of the inscrutable that can provoke fascination.  They are like elaborately colored serpents who elicit equal measures of fear and curiosity.  

Despite their despicable acts, the Nemesis can frequently be found to be a rather sympathetic figure.   Similar to the Rogue, the Nemesis is rejecting of the societal status quo.  They believe they know better, that imposing their will can bring about much needed change.  Considering the various inequities and injustices entailed in any society, the promise of change can be very alluring.  Tearing something down is always easier than creating something new; and the Nemesis excels at the former whilst offering mere promises of the latter. 

Add to this the flamboyant charm and sleek aesthetics of so many super villains and it can all come across as quite alluring.  And this attraction can be greatly magnified in those feeling even the least bit alienated by the confines and restrictions of a societal equilibrium.

Most all Nemeses are idealists.  Their ideals are twisted and egocentric, but they are idealists nonetheless.  In their heart of hearts, these cads honestly believe that the imposition of their self-serving values will bring about their notion of a better world.  Even the ones who claim to be nihilists, who say they just want to see the world burn, harbor the desire to harness power and refashion it all in the cast of their megalomania.

The Nemesis is an enjoyable character only to the extent that they do not win, that their schemes remain unfulfilled.  And if said plot is at least partially accomplished, the fun part is their histrionic efforts to put down resistance and maintain their tenuous grip on power.  

Conversely, Nemeses who too closely parrot real life horrors become unenjoyable entities for the audience.  There are plenty of villains who are racists, who commit sexual assault and/or who adhere to repugnant philosophies.  These baddies do not fully qualify as super villains.  They are just regular villains.  Super villains, like superheroes, are figures of fantasy... they are meant to be fun.  A true super villain, a real nemesis, may toe the line of real-life horror but should not overstep it.  

Not all Nemeses pose the same level of peril.  The Nemesis covets a world bent to their whim, yet not all possess the faculties needed to constitute a true threat.  Many nemeses are capable, shrewd and cunning; whilst others can be plagued by hubris, myopathy and just plain incompetence.  And others still can demonstrate great prowess in one instance and then great blundering in the next.  The same passion and unwavering drive that fuels the Nemesis can also lead them to make costly, foolhardy decisions.  Nevertheless, a buffoonish villain can be just as captivating and fun as one who is sophisticated and poised.  

Of course any summation of the Nemesis, or super villains in general, would be incomplete without addressing the matter of how frequently villainous characters have been used in stories as thinly veiled stand-ins for the queer community.  

This is done through a kind of coding… subtle and not-so-subtle hints that the villain is something other than heterosexual.  Male villains are often presented as effeminate or flamboyant, female villains as masculine and butch.  This is meant to have the effect of making the Nemesis appear more deviant and dangerous.  As well as make their ultimate defeat by the hero somehow more satisfying, reinforcing the erroneous notion that being queer is in some way morally wrong.  

This queer-coding of the villain is not always consciously intended to be homophobic/heterosexist, but it often has that effect; and perpetuates harmful stereotypes about the LGBTQ+ community that can lead to real-world discrimination and violence.

There can be a strange and entirely artificial conversion of machiavellian manipulation and the disrupting of traditional notions of gender.  This is the idea that those who are transgender, women who act masculine or men who act feminine, are somehow engaging in a sinister chicanery.  That they are temping and coercing the innocent and vulnerable into embracing deviancy.      

This is not the only way in which the Nemesis has been used as a means to present social-political agendas.  Near countless forms of bigotry and prejudice have been repackaged in the form of a sinister Nemesis.  The ‘yellow peril’ style villain depict people of Asian descent as cold, calculating and soulless; whereas the savage ‘witchdoctor warlord’ presents Black and Brown people as primitive, superstitious and godless; and the hook-nosed ‘miserly masterminds’ puts forward Jewish people as conniving, greedy and unscrupulous.      

Ironically, as time has gone by, this politicizing of the villain has only acted to make the Nemesis even more intriguing and appealing.  In that the Nemesis embodies all that is debaucherous, forbidden and deviant, the hero becomes more and more forced into role of the foil.  The hero must be pious, chased and entirely pure of heart.  They become flawless and such perfection in the realm of fantasy and wish-fulfillment is rather boring.  As the hero becomes more two-dimensional and un-relatable so too is their arch Nemesis made more alluring and empathetic.  

Indeed this has led to heroes gradually become more like villains in an effort to keep them interesting.  The sterling white hat of the traditional hero has been traded in for something a slightly grittier shade of gray.  Heroes have become more grim and steely, brooding neurotics fueled by past trauma.  This may seem like standard fare in the here and now, but it is a base dynamic heavily borrowed from the villainous Nemesis.  ...imitation, as they say, is the most since form of flattery.  

Thus concludes our brief summation of villainous taxonomy.   Does every super villain fit perfectly into one of these five categories?  Likely not… but as close a fit as necessary.  And certainly there can be movement between the levels: Goons who matriculate to Enforcers, Rouges who go on to become Nemeses.  By and large, however, these are fixed positions and most all super villains can be seen as occupying one of these taxonomical genres.