#north protection squad

[my-name-is-markus-with-a-k]

"I shouldn't have told you..."

[ezrazone]

my friend mohamed’s cat, amy, is older than all three of his children! he carried her with him when he and his family were forced to evacuate their home in north gaza due to the brutal colonizing forces and their us-funded death squads ravaging palestine for its land.

here is amy now - she’s been skin and bones since the genocide has prevented mohamed from accessing adequate care for her illness. still, she makes his children smile and he hopes to get treatment for her when they are able to evacuate into egypt. just the same as mohamed plans on finding care for his wife, who is suffering from advanced uterine cancer, mohamed cares a great deal about this little cat.

here’s another picture of amy and of the two birds that mohamed’s family escaped north gaza with. how incredible is it that so many palestinians refuse to abandon their beloved animals, even as the occupation indiscriminately brutalizes and destroys all life?

something beautiful happened! this tiny kitten has joined mohamed’s family in the tent! abdul rahman, sarah, and lynn all love this kitten and hope that they are able to bring it across the border when the rafah crossing opens back up.

despite serious illness, mohamed’s daughter sarah talks constantly about how much she loves these cats and wants to play with them again. mohamed tells me that she loves cats more than she loves her own parents sometimes. i understand her. can you help keep her safe and ensure that she can bring these animals with her to egypt?

donations increased temporarily after the election results were called, then slowed down again as americans seem to retreat back into themselves. please let these people hold your attention this time.

mohamed is #192 on this verification sheet.

if you would like an alternative method for donating, please use this cashapp QR code to send money to mohamed’s fundraising coordinator. we are in constant contact and mohamed confirms to me that 100% of these funds are sent directly to him without delay.

please help me protect this family and their pets.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

--

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

--

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.” 

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you. 

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off. 

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

[vivwritesfics]

Slow Ride

Jake saves her from a creep at the bar. She repays him in the best way she can think and rides him to his favourite song

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, hand job, fingering, riding, car sex, creampie

There was nobody she hated more than Jake Seresin. Ever since he'd come back to North Island, she hated him. But she hated him because she couldn't hate him.

Working behind the bar in The Hard Deck, she met her share of navy pilots. They were flirts, yes, but they were harmless flirts. But they knew what would happen if they push things, knew the consequences of disrespecting her.

Jake Seresin knew, too. He approached the bar with his usual charming smile and ordered a round of beers. She didn't say much as she got him the round of drinks. But still, even once he had them, Jake stayed to flirt with her.

She didn't flirt back, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. It had happened before, and the guy had flirted with her. He'd taken it too far and had gotten himself kicked out (well, Jake had been the one to throw him out).

There was one thing she liked about Jake, though. The fact that he protected her from the few creeps that had coming into The Hard Deck. He always had an eye on her, even when he was playing pool, making sure that nobody ever made her feel uncomfortable.

That was the thing. Although she hated Jake, he looked out for her. There was a time she was considering quitting her job at The Hard Deck. She loved her job, loved working for penny and loved how polite most of the aviators were. But there were a few guys that made things unbearable.

Until her knight in shining armour stepped in.

Jake didn't always have to step in and save her, but she loved it every time he did.

Like tonight. Cory was a regular, and a regular creep. He'd been kicked out more times than she could count, but he always found his way back in. Always slipped through the cracks and made it to the bar.

Thank God Jake saw him before she did. Even as Cory sat at the bar and whistled for her, Jake was there. He stood beside Cory and cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" He asked, trying to stay between Cory and herself.

Cory rolled his eyes and looked away from Jake. He turned his attention to her, wearing a smile that made her sick to her stomach. "Hey, pretty darlin'," he said, reaching across the bar towards her.

But Jake caught his hand before he could get it any closer. "You're not allowed in here, Cory," Jake said with a sneer as he pushed Cory away. "Get out before I make you get out."

Cory let out a laugh and shook Jake off. "Piss off, Bagman," he said, using the nickname that Jake normally didn't mind.

But Cory hadn't earned the right to use it. And it infuriated him. "Say that again," he challenged.

"Jake," she said from behind the bar, trying to grab his attention. As much as she liked Jake being there, protecting her, she didn't want it to get out of hand.

But Cory ignored Jake. He turned his attention to the poor woman behind the bar. "C'mon, pretty darlin'," he said as he leaned forward. "Let's say we get out of here after this."

The moment his hand reached out and touched the bottom of her skirt, Jake had him out of his seat, holding him up by his collar as he pressed him against the wall. "Fucking try it," he pretty much growled, spit flying into Cory's face.

Everybody in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch. They watched as Jake dropped him, following Cory out of the bar. He made sure he was gone, too scared to come back before he returned to the bar.

"Sorry about that, sweets," said Jake as he sat on the bar stool and looked at her.

She placed a drink in front of him, one he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said. "For being my hero."

Jake took it gratefully. He didn't return to the squad, instead staying at the bar with her until she closed up. Even then, even once she'd kicked everybody out, Jake stayed with her. He stayed with her as she cleaned and closed the bar and waited while she locked the doors.

But still, he didn't want to leave her. So, Jake walked her to her car. It wasn't creepy, no. It was comforting.

"I still feel like I should pay you back somehow," she said as she leaned against her car.

Jake let his typical charming smile come onto his face. "That beer was thanks enough, sweets."

Before she knew it, she was opening the back door to her car and gesturing for him to climb in. Jakes heart thundered in his chest as he did just that. He climbed in and scootched over to the furthest seat, giving her space to climb in beside him.

She did just that. Placing her back into the front seat, she climbed in beside Jake. "I wanted to give you a proper thank you," she said almost sheepishly as she leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her phone.

The music that sounded from the phone was a song Jake immediately recognised. She dropped her phone on the dash and climbed into the back. But she didn't sit beside him. No, she settled onto his lap, her arms around his neck.

"Fuck," Jake hissed as he looked at her. There was no telling how much he'd wanted this. "Are we gonna fuck to Slow Ride?"

She played with the hair at the back of his neck as she ground her hips against his own. "I dunno, Hangman. Do you want me to ride you to Slow Ride?"

He swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That was all she needed to hear. Her lips hesitantly attached to his own and his hands settled on her hips. Jake let her take control. He let her set the pace, let her decide how the kiss was going. Before too long she was kissing down his neck and undressing him in the back seat of her car.

Jake couldn't believe it. Here he was, fucking her in his car. He let out a hiss at the feeling of teeth against his neck.

Suddenly, she removed her hands from around his neck and reached between them. She popped the button on his jeans and immediate freed his cock.

Fuck, he was big. But, compared to the rest of him it was unsurprising. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as she returned her lips to his.

The way Jake was gripping her hips, it was bruising. He reached under her skirt, touching her ass. Squeezing and groping, listening to her little whines and moans as she jacked him off.

The moment her thumb swiped over his tip, Jake ripped the material of the tights covering her ass. He hadn't meant to, just want to pull them down. But he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking good.

As soon as her tights were ripped, it was easy enough to slip his fingers beneath her panties. She was so goddamn wet. And those noises! They were music to Jakes ears.

"Goddamn, sweets," he grunted. The moment he touched her folds, her movements stopped. "So fucking wet f' me." His finger touched her clit and her body fell against his own. "Gonna ride me to Slow Ride?"

Her whines were desperate as she frantically lined his cock up with her entrance. She sank down onto him, eyes rolling back. "Holy Fuck," he grunted.

"Jake," she mewed desperate, her body against his own. He was so goddamn big, she didn't know how she was taking all of him. "Wanna move."

Jake immediately understood. She wanted to ride him, but she couldn��t move. He gripped her hips once again and began moving her, bouncing her on his cock.

It wasn't a slow ride. Not in the slightest. Her cunt just felt too good squeezing him, he couldn't slow down.

When Jake got her moving at her own rhythm, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her chest. Jake kissed her. He kissed down her chest until he got to what wasn't being covered by her bra.

As Jake got closer and closer, he wrapped his arms around her moved her body, her body limp against his. Her cries and whines were continuous, unbroken against the skin on his shoulder. She clenched around him, eyes shut as she came. But she was so out of it, so drunk on his cock, she hardly noticed.

"That's it, sweets," Jake mumbled as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm almost there."

And, seconds later Jake was cumming, his climax taking over him as he gripped her tight. "Fuck, fuck," he grunted, stilling her.

But he didnt pull out of her. He kept his arms around him as she laid against his chest, kissing the sweaty skin there. "That was incredible," she whispered as her body began to shake and shiver.

"We'll have to do that again, uh, sweets? He asked abd she nodded in agreement.

[ohtobeleah]

M.U.R.P.H // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: An undisclosed pregnancy that you and your husband try keeping a secret ends up being the reason you end up in hospital during a PTI session with the Dagger Squad.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Pregnancy. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Mild Angst.

Author Note: Happy Saturday! This is pretty self indulgent but I final finished this one-shot that’s been in my drafts forever.

“Alright team.” Pete Mitchell, although overworked and severely underpaid for the crap he put up with–grinned ear to ear at his group of elite Naval Aviators who sat before him after debriefing this morning's training exercise. “As you know, this weekend is Memorial Day weekend and the Admirals have decided to get a jump start on the events.” 

“Are we getting a long weekend?” Fanboy beamed hopefully as he sat up a little straighter. “Please tell me we’re getting a long weekend—“ He hoped that if he asked with enough conviction in his voice the answer would be yes. However, he hadn’t noticed you standing at the back of the room. A protective hand over your barely visible baby bump. Waiting for the right moment to make your presence known. Bob had noticed though—he was already dreading what was to come. He hated Memorial Day. Not because he didn’t want to pay respects to those who had fallen, no. He’d honour the fallen every damn day if he had to. 

So long as he didn’t have to participate in Murph.

You’d been his PTI during his time in Lamoore. You were the first Bradshaw he’d met and before he later Met Bradley Bradshaw and put two and two together that the two of you were married–nothing had ever made more sense. 

Bob’s heart had sunk into his ass when he found out you were being transferred to North Island. You were somewhat of a hard task master when it came to gruelling training sessions and Memorial Day always gave you free rein to send anyone packing with their tail between their legs if they couldn’t keep up. 

You were, however, a solid friend. When you weren’t working, you were the life of the party. The brightest smile in the room and always the one who everyone gravitated towards. Much like Bradley, you two always seemed to get the party started. Whether it was playing great balls of fire and singing at the top of your lungs—or starting an important dart night that saw a permanent tally board hung up beside the much too loved dartboard. There had been a time or two where you’d challenged the strongest of the bunch to an arm wrestle—Bob was always the first to bow at your bark. Not one to challenge anything you said, hell he’d do just about anything you told him to do….

So long as he didn’t have to participate in Murph. 

Bob had never been one to believe in soulmates before he saw you and Bradley together, he’d never met two people more suited for each other. But neither of you needed to hear that from him–you’d already managed to figure that out on your own. 

“No, Fanboy—“ Maverick sighed as he gestured for you to make your way to the front of the class. “No you aren’t getting a long weekend, what you are getting though, is a killer workout with PTI Bradshaw.” You heard the mixed reviews your introduction received. You’d only just recently finished running annual fitness testing for those who needed to be re-evaluated. So the idea of yet another gruelling workout tossed their way wasn’t what some of the aviators had in mind for a head start on the weekend. 

Jake Seresin and Javy Machado however? Oh they were wrapped. They loved a challenge—they adored you and they certainly came over the challenges you loved to hand out. 

“Morning everyone.” You beamed as you handed Rooster, you beloved husband, who sat in the front row with a soft grin, a pile of papers. “Take one and pass them along please Lieutenant Bradshaw.” Your fingers lingered across Bradley’s for a few seconds as he smiled softly back at you with heart shaped eyes. He always thought you looked so different with your hair pulled back into a ridiculously tight bun. Your uniform made you look so different, nothing like what you looked like at the Hard Deck with your hair out and mum jeans on. Sitting beside him at the piano playing great balls of fire. A Margarita in your hand and his glasses over your beautiful eyes. Nothing like what you looked like tucked into his side, hair splayed every which way and silk pyjamas adorning your beautiful body. 

“Physical Training Instructors play a key role in developing and maintaining the health, fitness and well-being of our airmen. In the United States Navy, physical fitness is absolutely essential in maintaining good health and overall wellbeing.” Pete Mitchell had been required to say that little statement prior to any session he handed over to you. “Regardless of Rank, PTI “Agony” Bradshaw will be your superior for the next two hours—with that I hand you over.”

“Thanks Mav.” You chuckled, appreciating the way you were so respected by the veteran aviator. PTI’s didn’t always have the best wrap—so when Maverick commanded the attention of everyone in the room on your behalf it gave you a little more confidence each and every time. “Alright flyboys—“ You teased, turning your attention to Phoenix so you could address her too. “And Flygirl, today we’re doing MURPH—“ 

Your declaration was met with a choir of dismay and disapproval from at least half of the team that sat before you. Suddenly their shoulders were a little more slouched and their faces plastered with existential dread when they started reading over the workout plan you'd had Bradley pass back. No one liked doing MURPH, except maybe Jake Seresin.

“Ma’am, I think that sounds like a great idea—“ Hangman sent you one of his thousand watt grins as he played with the toothpick that sat between his teeth. “Don’t you think your wife here comes up with some banger ideas, Rooster?” Bradley did think you had some good ideas, he wasn't going to let you know that though–if he did he knew his workouts, his Personal Training sessions and his Fitness Testing would just increasingly get harder and harder. It had only been by the skin of his goddamn nose that you passed his last Multi-Stage Fitness Test. Bradley Bradshaw was a hunk and with that meant he himself was not the most aerodynamic of the bunch–Bob had passed with flying colours, although you did nearly force him to restart his push-ups again when you caught him cheating on range. 

“She told me what she had planned last night Hangman, I’m ready to go, brought my pre workout in my bag and everything—“ Rooster just sighed as he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs as he brought his hands up to rest behind his head. “Piece of cake.” 

“I have never heard anyone say MURPH is a piece of cake.” Phoenix groaned. “Aggie, please–” 

“I don't make the rules, Lieutenant, I just enforce them.” You had gotten used to the love-hate relationship and animosity you received while you were in uniform, it was your job to make sure none of the navy’s finest aviators let their fitness fall to the wayside. “Now for those who don't know what MURPH is, i'll explain quickly then you can all take twenty to change, refuel, and meet me over in the gym.” As you pulled out the empty chair that sat vacant next to your husband, you used it as a footstool before propping yourself up on the desk. Clearing your throat before reading out the workout explanation on the sheet you'd distributed. 

“M.U.R.P.H is a hero WOD dedicated to Michael P. Murphy, the first service member to receive the Medal of Honor for service in Afghanistan, during a Memorial Day event on Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan, May 24, 2015.” Although there were more people sitting before you who didn't like the idea of such a gruelling workout, they did respect the fallen. “Michael's favourite workout was dedicated to him after his passing and thus, will be your workout today.” You felt the stomachs of everyone, all but Jake And Javy who just sat a little straighter in their chairs, drop.

“Today you will complete a one mile run, 100 pull-ups, expected to be chest to bar, 200 push-ups, 300 bodyweight squats, and to finish up we’ll run another mile.” Bradley crept a hand around your calf, thumbing your uniform as he squinted his eyes and bit his bottom lip, hoping you wouldn't add anything else to the list…..He should have known better. But he couldn't hold a grudge against you–not when you were four months pregnant and glowing. You were hiding your pregnancy well, it wasn't that you didn't want your friends and family to know, it's just you wanted to revel in the experience with Bradley for a little while longer before telling everyone you were both expecting. “Usually the twenty pound weight vest would be optional, but boys and girls you are some of the Navy’s finest Aviators, so you will all complete this course while wearing a twenty pound vest, none-notable people.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

In the locker room, Nomex Flight Suits had been discarded for workout gear. Standard issue work boots had been replaced by trainers, and any and all standards of professionalism had gone out the window. It was the one thing everyone actually did enjoy about having you as their PTI, you weren’t big on formality. As long as respect was there you couldn’t give a rats ass about if people swore at you or razzed you. It made the job just a little bit more enjoyable. 

The last thing anyone wanted to do while they were working out was keep a rigid and professional persona. 

“Man, sometimes I hate your wife.” Phoenix grumbled as the group walked out of the locker room with towels slung over their shoulders and copious amounts of pre-workout scooped into shakers. Bradley couldn't help but to laugh, he loved you so much, the wedding band wrapped around his ring finger was there to prove it. The tattoos of your name on his left ass cheek was also there to prove it. 

“I wouldn't let her hear you say that.” Bradley paused as he took a swig of his pre-workout before handing it to Jake who looked like he was pumping himself up for the fight of his life. “She’ll ‘accidentally’ forget to count your reps and make you start again.” 

“This is surely a form of torture–” Fanboy added as he trailed behind with Bob. 

“It's a hero WOD Fanboy–respect the dead.” Jake hissed, he was as keen as, the only one in the group who hadnt had a negative thing to say about your workout plan. “I don't know why you guys aren't more excited.”

“Unlike you Hangman, most of us aren't gluttons for punishment.” Payback teased as he came to sling an arm around Jake's shoulders. “Or degradation, considering the unholy things I've seen in your search history.” Jake and Bradley had grown closer in the past few years that saw them in North Island permanently, there had been more times than you could count where the two of them would stumble back to your humble abode, drunk out of their minds. There had even been a time or two where you'd caught them spooning on the couch when Rooster couldn't take the stairs in his drunken state. 

“None of which compare to what Bradsaw probably cops in the bedroom.” Jake was quick to turn the attention back on Rooster, sending him a smirk over his shoulder as he took a quick sip of the pre-workout they were sharing and handed it over. “Huh Rooster? Agony probably has you wrapped around her little finger.” It was no secret amongst the group that you were a power house PTI, you didn’t dish out any workout you couldn't do with your eyes closed, something that the Daggers really valued about you was your integrity. You were honest and kind and above all, you levelled with them. You weren't a hypocrite and you, as much as you hated your job some days, the constant pressure, the delayed onset muscle soreness, the gruelling workouts and the sweat, you led by example and practised what you preached. 

That didnt mean you and Bradley wouldn't reserve Friday nights for takeout and chocolate. 

“That she does.” Was all Bradley replied with, “Have you fucking seen her? She’d kick my ass any day of the week if I gave her any ounce of crap.” He was without a shadow of a doubt whipped, but Bradley had always been that way with you–ever since he met you at his first water survival training weekend, he was down bad. He’d been assigned to your little group that first Saturday and you sent his heart into the stratosphere the first time you smiled at him. He was still unsure if it had ever come back or if your unconditional love and admiration just kept it hovering in the ozone layer. 

“She looks like she's glowing.” Bob remarked as the group mixed with nervousness, existential dread and far too much ego radiating of one particular member made their way across the tarmac to the base gym you could be found in any given day of the week. It was your home away from home. Kitted out with state of the art equipment, a spacious and functional environment that was welcoming and motivating. “She's far too excited about this, oh my god.” 

Bradley knew you were glowing, but he also knew it wasn't because you were excited. He knew that it was because of the little one growing inside you, a mix of him and you. He kind of hoped it was a boy, but everyone always told him he’d make a good girl dad. Regardless–he just wanted to be a dad, his biggest achievement by far would be being a good dad.

“She really is.” Bradley beamed as he heard the unmistakable tune of AJR’s Burn The House Down blasting through your speakers, reading over the workout plan one final time as you sat on the sled track, legs sprawled as you hummed away in your own little word. Twirling the pen you held in your hand absentmindedly, Bradley’s voice brought you out of your concentration. Alerting you that the team was ready to be put through their paces. “We’re hear for your torture session, Agony, don’t hold back on Hangman though, he’s been gloating since, well–forever really.” Bradley teased as he offered you a gentle hand, helping you rise up from the felt sled track. You immediately felt a dizziness unparalleled to anything you'd ever experienced before. So much so you fought off the urge to succumb to the feeling of descent as you stumbled and stammered for a second. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Lieutenant.” You smiled, exhaling as you steadied your equilibrium. Bradley caught on immediately that you were feeling slightly uneasy, placing a soft hand against the small of your back as you cleared your throat and rolled up your sleeves a little. “Alright, So I’ve measured out half a mile along the airfield, so it's half a mile to and half a mile back– You can either run the tarmac or use the treadmill.” You explained to everybody standing around  listening in to what you had to say. 

“Can we break up the reps Y/n?” Payback asked as he shouldered Bob, forcing him to lose his footing slightly, stumbling for a second as he sent Payback look. “Or is it strictly 100, 200, 300?” 

“I don't care what you guys do so long as you get it done.” Your tone made Fanboy shiver, you could be a hard task master when you wanted to be. “Start warming up and we’ll get this show on the road.” Bradley was quick to sneak a peck on the cheek when the group started to disperse, all except for Hangman a little on edge about what was to come. 

“You feeling alright darlin?” He cooed, walking with you over to your desk where you’d left your water bottle. 

“Your baby is the size of a pear at the moment and she's already giving me a hard time.” Neither you nor Bradley wanted to know if you were having a boy or a girl, you wanted it to be a surprise, both having made lists that kept growing with names galore. “I'm just starting to feel really sluggish, which is hard to hide when I'm usually the energiser bunny on base.” 

“Dr. Richards did say you’d need to pull back a little the further along you get baby." It was hard to accept that you would eventually have to slow down, up until about two weeks ago you had been fine, apart from the morning sickness you had dealt with in the first trimester. Bradley respected your boundaries when you were both at work, knowing professionalism in the workplace was important to you, however–that didn't stop him from discreetly placing a gentle hand atop your stomach, finding the small baby bump hiding under your work uniform. The camo green fabric warping around your naval under his palm. “But that doesn't mean you're not any less capable, just means you’re growing our little boy which in my opinion, is pretty spectacular.” 

“Just means we’ll need to tell everyone sooner rather than later Roo.” You sighed, taking a sip of your water, not knowing that Phoenix had spotted the gentle touch of your husband's hand resting on your stomach for a brief moment. Her eyes wide in shock as her jaw slacked slightly. Phoenix though, the master of recovery, disguised her surprise when you turned around to round up the gang that were all in the process of warming up in some way shape or form. “Alright, we can stagger the start for those who aren't warm enough–” You side eyed Bradley as he scoffed at you, leaving your side to join his colleagues. “

“Let's go boys and girl, we’re doing Murph baby!” Jake hollered out, clapping his hands down on Javys shoulders, pumping each other up as you laughed, a smile creeping across your face. “Bradshaw! You gonna try keep up with the big boys?” 

“Think I might taxi with Bob.” Bradley replied, jogging on the spot before giving his lower back a little twist side to side. Bob just rolled his eyes, to the untrained eye he was the kind of guy who kept his shirt on during beach days, but he thoroughly enjoyed cardio. If Rooster's plan had been to taxi with him during the mile run he was in for a rude shock, but Bob knew he was gonna lose time in the pull-up department. “You ready to go man?” 

“As ready as I'll ever be for this kind of workout.” Bob groned. “If I say I twisted my ankle now, do I still have to participate?” The group all laughed at the near winge that left Bob's mouth, he really wasn't up for this today–but what you came back with made the gym explode with boisterous laughter. 

“If you dont be careful Lieutenant Floyd l’ll pack an extra pound into your weight vest.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Phoenix saw her opportune moment to strike about half way through the first half mile. Bradley was starting to show a red hume across his face, a thin layer of sweat had started to form across his forehead and Phoenix knew that if he was focusing hard enough on keeping his pace steady with one foot in front of the other, she knew he was in no position to formulate a lie. 

“So–Bradshaw.” Phoenix started as she came up to jog beside Rooster. “How far along is she?” 

“How far along is who?” Bradley replied as he kept his head straight, focused on the marker up ahead that indicated the turn around point. Watching as Jake and Javy booked it around one another, racing ahead of the rest of the group who had all opted to taxi their way through this. 

“Agony, she's pregnant.” Phoenix spoke with such conviction that Bradley found it near impossible to try and formulate a lie that would cover up the truth of the matter. “I saw you put your hand on her stomach, and I know you wouldnt do that if she wasnt pregnant.” 

“She's feeling a little off today, little spud is kicking her around a little.” It was all the conformation Phoenix needed to let out a little squeal as she beamed at Rooster, smacking him in the shoulder. “Ow!” 

“Why would you keep this from us! Rooster! That's amazing, congratulations!” 

“We just wanted to enjoy it for a while, just us, we haven't even told her parents yet.” Bradley explained as he made it to the turnabout point with Phoenix, both keeping each other's pace. “She's four months, we don't wanna know the sex, but everything is going the way it should, doc said she’ll need to start pulling back soon though.” 

“Ah, so thats why she isn’t participating in the torture.” Phoenix had picked up on the fact you weren’t participating today, she thought it was odd that you weren't but wasn't about to question it. She was scared you'd match her attitude and give her an extra 100 push ups. “Mrs Bradshaw is knocked up.” 

“Yeah.” Bradley chuckled, he liked the sound of that. “I had to beg her not to last night when I saw the MURPH file sitting out on the dining table, got down on my knees and everything.” 

“You couldn't have just talked her out of the whole plan entirely?” Phoenix whined, starting to feel a little more puffed from talking as she jogged with Bradley. Starting to really feel herself warming up. 

“Oh trust me, I tried that too.” Bradley explained, laughing as he remembered how that conversation ended. “She seduced me just to get me to shut up.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

By the time Rooster and Phoenix got back to the hanger turned gym, Jake and Javy were already going ten reps for ten reps with their pull ups. Bob, Fanboy and Payback were just standing there, watching as they caught their breath and waited for Rooster and Phoenix to return. 

“Alright ladies, now that everyones back, there's no rest for the wicked.” You turned up the volume on the speaker you stood by before making your way over. “Lets hussle, clocks still ticking and the faster you get this done the less time you have to spend here with me.” 

Fanboy groaned as he turned to Bob, sharing a painful look of ‘I'm over this already.’ 

“How are you gonna break this up, Roo?” You cooed, coming to stand by your husband as you watched Payback and Phoenix get to work on the rig, everyone was working on their pull ups first. “If it was me i'd do ten at a time.” 

“I think I should be able to manage twenty-five at a time.” He smiled, mumbling under his breath in your ear as he leaned in to kiss your earlobe. “Phoenix knows you're pregnant by the way.” 

“What!?” You gasped. “How did she find out! You said we weren’t gonna tell anyone yet?” 

“Saw me touch your stomach before, figured it was a little sus.” Bradley cooed. “I'm sorry.” 

“No, no don't be, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” You accepted the reality, watching as your group worked through their reps, taking notice of Bob who was severely lacking in his rep range. “Floyd! Chin to bar!” 

“Yeah Bob, chin to bar.” Hangman added, laughing with that thousand watt grin he was known for. “Bradshaw! Stop trying to flirt your way out of this!” 

“That's my cue.” Bradley groaned, throwing his head back as he ran his hands through sweat covered locks. “Play nice please.” 

“Nope, hop to it Lieutenant–” You bit back, biting your bottom lip as you cautiously and ever so discreetly slapped Bradley on the arse, watching as you sauntered away with a little more pep in his step. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“I feel like my arms are gonna pop off!” Next was the push ups. Mickey groaned as he did his set of twenty as you came to kneel beside him. “You’re a vicious and cruel woman.” 

“Well I guess Agony is rather fitting, isn't it Fanboy?” you questioned through a soft laugh as you pressed a hand between his shoulder blades. “Retract your scaps, you're relying too much on your triceps, put the pressure through your chest and your longevity will increase.” 

“If i wasn't so mad i'd say thankyou.” He groaned, keeping on keeping on with his reps. As soon as he was done, Rooster started his, same as Payback. 

“Hmm, I'll take it.” You ruffled Mickey's hair, wiping the sweat you collected onto the thigh of your pants as you stood, feeling light headed as you rose too quickly. “Oh–” Your vision blurred momentarily as a slight ringing in your ears rang out, you tried to breathe through it, but you couldn't catch the feeling. 

“Hey Aggie, you okay?” It was Hangman who noticed that you were looking a little unsteady at first, but as soon as the words were leaving his mouth? You were going down. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as the dizziness from standing too quickly took over you entirely. “Oh shit!” It normally wouldn't have been an issue, but you'd been feeling a little unsteady all day. “Y/n–” Hangman was quick to move to break your fall, catching you in his arms before you could hit the ground. “Rooster! Get over here will ya?” Jake called out, Bradley hadnt seen you fall, he was too busy focusing on his push-ups. “It's Y/n.” 

“What's wrong?” Bradley asked as he stood, noticing you passed out in Jake's arms. “Oh my god, hey–” He cooed, tapping your cheek softly as he crouched beside you on the other side of Jake, the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of all the aviators you had in your gym. “Hey, darling, you okay? Open your eyes for me baby.” 

You did, slowly, fluttering your eyelids with a soft groan as you tried to sit up, still feeling dizzy.

“Woah–easy there killer, what's going on? I've never seen you pass out like that before.” Although Jake was technically addressing you, Bradley held a palm to your forehead as he pressed his lips together, watching as you struggled to focus on what was going around you. 

“She’s pregnant–” The gym went completely silent at Bradley’s major announcement. “I gotta get her to the hospital in case there's something wrong.” 

“Bradley, I'm fine.” You tried to reason with your husband as he scooped you up and into his arms, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck before he stood. “I promise, I just felt a little light headed is all.” 

“Yeah, no I don't care, we’re getting you checked out.” There was a distinct shift in Bradley’s tone, before he was playful, enjoying the workout as much as he could but now? He was as serious as ever, nothing was more important to him than you, his family. 

“Bradley, I'm in the middle of instructing a class.” Again you tried to defend the unnecessary need to go get checked out. You really didn’t feel like it was that big of an issue. “I can’t just leave? Everyone needs—“ Before you could finish, Bradley was interrupting. 

“Guys? you good?” Bradley turned around, addressed the totally stunned and flabbergasted group who just looked at him like he’d just dropped a major bomb on them. That his wife was expecting, you were gonna be a mother, and he, Bradley Rooster Bradshaw, was gonna be a dad. “You know what you’re doing don't you?” 

“Uh, yeah–” Bob started. 

“We’re good.” Payback stammered.

“We’ll be fine, just go make sure everything’s okay.” Phoenix added. 

“What do you mean Y/n’s pregnant!?” Hangman asked, standing there with wide eyes and a confused expression. Bradley didn’t respond, he simply turned on his heels and continued on his way, carrying you over to the admin building on base to get you checked out. 

“Do I need to have the sex education talk with you Seresin?” Phoenix teased. “Did your parents never give you the birds and the bees talk?” Jake just sent her a look. 

“You fucking knew didnt you?” He called Phoenix on her cool calm and collected manor. Something was up. 

“Only for like twenty more minutes than you.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Take a picture, it’ll last long.” You pouted from your position on the hospital bed, hooked up to a heart rate monitor. Bradley sat beside you, hand in yours as he just stared at you. Trying to get a read on how you were actually feeling because he knew you weren’t telling him the truth. 

“Woah, that was incredibly rude, Mrs Bradshaw.” Bradley teased as he let go of your hand, leaning back in the chair he sat perched in. stretching his arms up over his head, enough so that the bottom of his shirt pulled up, exposing his lower abdomen for a second. An incredible sight. “I'm just doing what any good husband would do, you know, making sure your health is in top priority.” 

“I'm A Personal Training Instructor for the United States Navy.” You reminded your husband, deadpanning him as you swirled your palm across your stomach. Stupid hospital gown covering your small bump. “Uncle Sam pays me to make sure you keep your health in tip top shape, it's not the other way around.” Bradley sent you a childish lok as his snickered back at you as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Listen, I’m fine, I'm just not used to my equilibrium being so off, I got up too quick and lost my balance, I'm fine.” 

“Why don't we let the doctor be the judge of that?” Bradley sighed, leaning forward as he rose from his seat to kiss your cheek. You just accepted the loving gesture as he cupped your cheeks, swiping the pad of his thumb across your cheek. “I just worry about you, because I love you and if anything ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for not doing enough when I could have.” 

“Good thing I love you more huh?” You cooed, watching as Bradley sat back down as Doctor Richard’s entered the room. 

“That my dear, is not possible.” Rooster just managed to get his reply in before Doctor Richards smiled. 

“Well the good thing is there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with bubs from the ultrasound.” She explained as she read through your chart. “But it seems as though you’re experiencing some bouts of low blood pressure Mrs Bradshaw.” 

“Low blood pressure?” Bradley questioned. “That can just happen? Y/n doesn’t have low blood pressure?” He was right, you didn’t, but you seemed to have it now. 

“I can assure you Mr. Bradshaw it’s a very common occurrence during the first twenty four weeks of pregnancy, I wouldn’t be too alarmed as long as you manage it.” Doctor Richards addressed you as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. 

“How would you like me to do that Doc?” You asked with a sigh, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being pregnant. You did and you were so excited for your little one to arrive. What was annoying though was the fact you had been told to slow down, take things easy, enjoy the time you had with your baby. You were naturally a physically active person. Slowing down just wasn’t in your DNA. 

“Take it easy. Try to slow down a little? I understand you’re a PTI? Perhaps avoiding strenuous activity for the time being will help.” Doctor Richards explained. “Try to avoid making sudden movements, like standing up too quickly. It shouldn’t be a long term thing but for now? Monitor your systems, drink plenty of water to stay hydrated to increase your blood volume.” 

“Aye aye captain.” You groaned, saluting Dr. Richards as you slumped a little. Rooster caught onto your bad mood instantly, deciding to take over the conversation for you. 

“We’ll do our best Doc, thanks for checking up on her.” 

“Anytime—I’ll have your charts done up and send a discharge notice to the ladies at Reception.” She explained before leaving the room, giving you and Bradley a moment alone. He was silent as you walked Ike’s at him. Expecting him to say he told you so. 

“You feelings alright?” He asked softly. 

“I’m fine—just need a moment to truly process that my career is over.” You groaned, lying back as you faught of tears, it was the hormones, but not really. You just knew this day was coming. 

“What are you talking about?” Bradley asked, concern lacing his tone of voice as he sat as close to you as he possibly could. “Darlin—?” 

“If I can’t train, I can’t tell others to train. I can’t be a hypocrite.” You explained as tears fell down your cheeks. “I’ll go on maternity leave and lose my strength, my endurance, my body is already changing and I can only imagine what it’ll be like after having this beautiful baby.” You were well aware how crazy you sounded but it’s how you felt. “Bradley, I hope you don’t take this as me not loving every single moment of this because I am—“ You sobbed as Braldey held your hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m just scared of how becoming a mother is gonna affect the career I worked so hard to build.” 

“I understand baby.” Bradley tried his best to console you, he wasn’t going to tell you that none of what you were worried about was going to happen. He knew that there was a possibility it could. It had happened to other women before you and it would certainly happen after. “But if anyone can manage being a wonderful, caring mother and a fierce, incredibly talented career woman it’s you.”

“You think so?” You couldn’t help but to scoff lightly through your tears as you turned your head to look at your husband, so thankful for his every strong presence and support. 

“Honey I know so, we’ll do whatever it takes to get you right back to where you were before this little one came along.” He smiled, helping you sit up. “But let’s focus on you now? Alright, keep that blood pressure from dropping, keep you healthy and happy mama.” 

“Oh god!” You remembered the fact Bradley had mentioned to every single Dagger that you were pregnant. “Oh my god Roo, they’re gonna tackle us!” You leaned forward into your husband's chest as he laughed and kissed the top of your head. “I guess we better get back and get it over with huh?” 

“Yeah, better to rip the Band-Aid off fast than to drag it out.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

By the time you got back to base, the entire Dagger Squad was waiting back in the rec room. When you and Bradley entered cautiously, they all stood up as if they were expecting life altering news. 

“Is everything alright?” Bob asked, you never thought his eyes could get any bigger—but as he looked at you with hope filled eyes, you knew you’d been wrong. 

“Everything’s fine.” You smiled, wrapping your arm around Rooster's torso. Pulling him close as he sighed and filled in the gaps. 

“Mum and Bub are doing well, just got a little low blood pressure to manage but other than that? Everything else seems to be just fine.” Everyone went quiet, all silently thanking the heavens above and those in it that nothing major had occurred. Until Fanboy said what everyone was thinking—

“Can we go back to the part where you’re pregnant and didn’t tell any of us?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Masterlist

The Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

You’re Losing Me

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s “You’re Losing Me.” How Finnick loses the best thing he’s ever had.

Haymitch Abernathy

Capitol Punishment Masterlist

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol

I'm Sorry

Moments of Haymitch having to mentor his ex-girlfriend

Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus

Luke Castellan

Follow Me

Luke's girlfriend is excited to finally become a year-round camper so she can spend it with him. But Luke has other plans for them.

Delicate

"Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"

Competing With Gods

When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

The Way I Loved You

"But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

The Final Quest

How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods

Asshole Instructor

Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Mine

"You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Apollo

Immortal Danger

Apollo marries a half-blood without realizing how dangerous it can be

Immortal Danger II

Despite an extravagant wedding, Apollo is still confronted by those who want to end his marriage

John Wick

Forced Love Masterlist

Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with his boss' daughter.

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner

Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

The BAU Chief isn’t fond of sending his scantily clad wife in as bait

That Skirt

Smutty follow up to Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

I Can’t Leave

When the reader is forced into hiding, she’s desperate to inform her fiancé and his son

Move On

Rossi tells Aaron he should move on

Moving on to You

Aaron finally tells his longtime crush about his feelings when he almost loses her (Sequel to Move On)

Sparring Matches

The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team

Home Sweet Home

Sometimes going home isn’t always a good thing. Especially when your hometown is obsessed with marriage and you have a secret boyfriend.

Spencer Reid

Erotomania

Spencer’s girlfriend has a stalker

Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon

Sandor Clegane/Robb Stark

Between a Wolf and a Hound I

Sandor Clegane was never naïve enough to think he could marry the king's daughter but it doesn't make it any easier to see her married off.

Between a Wolf and a Hound II

The new Lady of the North tries to cope with the fact that she is now married and has a responsibility to her husband.

Robb Stark

The Godswood

When the newest Lady of the North is chased into the woods, the lords of the north search for Robb Stark's wife

Cregan Stark

Wrong Person (College AU!)

Aemond's girlfriend has a group project with the man he hates the most, Cregan Stark.

Grey’s Anatomy

Mark Sloan

Haunted

Mark finally finds where his wife has been hiding

Twilight

Carlisle Cullen

Sorry to Meet You

The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years

Attack on Titan

Levi Ackerman

Amnesia

When the Levi Squad goes out on a mission with a few rookies, accidents happen

Favoritism

Captain Levi wouldn't let his feelings for a scout under him get in the way of his professionalism, right?

Reiner Braun

Guard

When Reiner returns from his ten year long mission, he is assigned to protect the the woman he could never have.

[toulousewayne]

Beyond the Bat: Pt I 🦇

So I read a story a couple of months ago. It was about Terry McGinnis searching for and bringing all that Batboys (Ex:Dick,Jason,Tim, and Damian) back to the manor as an aging Bruce Wayne begins to die. I liked the story and premise of it. It made be think of stuff I wrote a long time ago and maybe I could write something similar but different. Especially with a reader instead of Terry. So let me know what you think. ;)

Batfamily x batsis!reader

Synopsis: Three years since Bruce’s disappearance, and with all of Batman’s former Robins gone, Gotham is under protection of the Batwoman, but she will need help to take on one of Gotham biggest Civil Wars ever.

—————

A seasoned and experienced Vickie Vale comes on the screen of a television. “It’s been three years since the mysterious disappearance of Billionaire-Philanthropist Bruce Wayne, Wayne was on a flight to Shanghai for a business trip when the flight was thrown off course. Still to this day the flight, crew or Mr. Wayne have been seen. Wayne Enterprise Chairman Lucius Fox released a statement.”

—

“Today marks three years since Mr. Wayne disappearance. I-I was originally supposed to born the plane but Bruce…he felt that he needed to go instead.” He swallows,” After consulting with authorities and with permission from the Wayne Estate I come before you to declare Bruce Wayne as dead. Normally this is something done after seven years,but the family has asked for this closure. We respect their wishes. No further common.” He leaves as several reports and journals ask question after question.

——

Vickie returns, “This was from the press conference earlier today. A private memorial service will be held for Wayne early next week. We from the GCN family as well as Gotham Thank you for your contribution Mr.Wayne and may you find peace wherever you are. I’m Vickie Vale and have a good night.”

————

Gotham City was a sea of old rotten gothic buildings and shiny overgrown skyscrapers. Gotham had been the early stages of becoming more a city of tomorrow. Though the plans had fallen without Bruce. Most of north Gotham was now being rebuilt and renovated, the lights of the older city still shinned just a light more dim due to the new LED light that consumed the night.

Sirens filled the night and busy traffic and honking on every corner. Three squad cars fly down the road chasing after two armed trucks.

Gunfire rings the night and civilian duck away from the street.

“Pull over! This is GCPD!” The cars race onto the bridge and barrel pass cars causing some minor accidents in its wake.

“Lenny,should we stop?” A rookie driver swerves from running into a gas truck. The goon beside him pulls off his skii mask and takes an assault rifle.

“And risk getting thrown into a cell, I’d rather die than let the boss know we got caught, keep drivin.”

Lenny takes the gun and starts firing towards the squad cars. Taking out of the tires causing it to crash into a three car accident.

“Pigs, still too slow for Rupert Throne men.” The car speeds up and then faint sound a ringing as the goons look at each other.

“Did you hear that?” The car jerks as they’re rammed into. “The fuck?”

The turn to see the Batmobile flying towards them.

“It’s the fucking Bat!” The driver floors the gas and takes the exit into East Gotham. The take a sharp turn and rush down the road.

The Batmobile rams into the truck again and the driver runs over a bus stop and light rail.

“Do something!” He shouts. Lenny takes the gun and fires at the car. The bullets fly off the car without a scratch.

“Shit.” The car speeds besides them and slide swipe the truck. It barrels over the Batmobile and crashes into a store front. The goons groan. Lenny takes a pistol and leans out the window.

The Batmobile is parked on the other side of the room but it’s not moving.

“Where’d he gooooooo-“ he fires the gun as he yanked from the window and the sound of punches and grunts are heard. The lanky drive makes a run for it but only get five feet before his foot his tied and he pulled across the ground and pulled up toward the truck.

“Help!!”

The figure leaps down and towers over him. It draws closure until the grab him by the shirt.

“Where’s Throne?” A gruff female voice snarls.

“Look-lady I don’t know.” He punched in the stomach.

“I won’t ask twice.” She grips him tighter.

“He fled this morning, we were supposed to take this stuff to the docks and that’s it I swear.” He cries.

Batwoman grins, “That was so hard was it.” And she punches him in the face knocking him out cold.

Squad cars and a transport truck arrive seconds later. Another black Police van arrives and Commissioner Barbara Gordon wheels her way to the scene.

“Another one of Throne men?” The older woman pushes her glass up. She huffs, “Any word on where he went?”

“He’s left this morning, knowing him he told his men one place and went in the complete opposite direction.” Batwoman holds a phone out and hands it to the Commissioner.

“You think he’d left something at his mansion, he’s not a sharp as he used to be. He’s getting sloppy with his trails.” She turns in her chair as Batwoman hoped into his car.

“I’ll find out.” The car raced down the street towards the outskirts of the city.

“Alfred.” Alfred appears on the screen. He’s more weather and more grey than normal but the older man is still able to assist anyway he can.

“I see you have stopped the stolen goods from reaching the Harbour, I take it as that will conclude your night?”

“Not likely, Rupert Throne’s men said he fled town this morning, any activity on his bank accounts, or the offshore ones?”

“You’d think a man of his age would learn to stop his shenanigans,but I digress. Three days ago $100,000 was withdrawn from his checking account. Nothing sense.”

Batwoman nods, “I’m heading to his house, Barbara thinks he’s getting sloppy and I agree.”

“Very well ma’am,I will be here if you need anything.”

——-

Batwoman drops down in front of the doors to the office and pushes it open. She swiftly moves inside and feels the air is stiff.

She scans the room and sees that it looks slightly messy. Papers scattered around the room and desk, the fire is long gone and it’s cold. The chairs at pushed to the ground and safe is wide open. She glides to it and scans it.

“His finger prints are recent. At least..three days old.” The glances into the safe to find it empty.

She worlds around the find the door toward the hallway ajar. She ventures into the dim hallway. She turns a corner and is shocked at the scene before her.

“Agent A, I’m sending live footage to the Batcomputer.”

“My word, it’s a massacre.” The hallway is full of Throne’s men dead, blood, painting the marble tiles and splattered across the walls.

“Who could have done such butchery?” Alfred asks. Batwoman check the body of one of the men.

Batwoman stands up,” judging by the smell of decomposing and state of the bodies the time of death was 72 hours ago.” She passed by the remaining bodies until she comes to two large wooden doors with blood splattered and a dagger embedded in it. She pushes it and across the room his the master bed with Rupert Throne’s body.

“That smell, he’s been here for just as long.”

“Dear Lord, and no one knew.”

She scans his body and finds a large gash in his chest.

“He was stabbed with a sword.” She scans his hand and find gun power. She finds the gun on his bed and she able to tell he used it.

She looks at the door and sees blood. She scans it and it doesn’t match the blood from the hallway or Rupert’s. She finds a blood trail the leads to the balcony. Old bloody bandages are found along with the bullet.

“Seems like whoever was there wasn’t able to do the job without getting injured. I can’t track any blood trails it been to long and the rain has washed it away.”

“I’ve already notified Ms. Gordon she’s in route.

Batwoman looks toward the city across the bridge. “Something’s missing Alfred, and I’m going to find out.”

——-

The Batmobile races through the waterfall and down the platform until it stop. Batwoman climbs out and takes the lift down toward the Batcomputer where Alfred sits and the computer with a cup of tea.

“And how was the rest of the night ma’am?” She pulls off the cowl and pushes her dark locks from her face.

“There’s assassins back in the city.” She begins typing and pulls up the three other crime scenes.

The two look at each one. A victim with either a single large gash or several closely net ones are the on the screen.

“It’s not the small killer, the one that killed Throne and his men are different than these three. These victims were struggling and suffered. Throne’s was quick.”

“As quick as having a sword shoved into your chest can be I presume.” H sips his tea and stands with his cane. He moved quietly as he always did but a little more slower.

Y/n sighs, “Is he awake?”

Alfred stops at the elevator and nods. “He’s been up for sometime, I’ll prepare breakfast.”

Y/n stands up and was to the display cases. All different suits.

Starting with a few of Bruce’s old suits, then the original Robin and Batgirl suits. Finally she stops at of last suits. Bruce’s last suit was in mint condition as he left it.

She turns to the empty case and start placing her gear in it.

—-

She emerges from the office and ties her hair up waking into the kitchen.

“Mommy!” A little boy with brown hair and blue eyes smile with syrup all over his face. Y/n wipes his cheeks and smiles.

“Did you sleep well?” The five year old boy nods while eating his food.

“Finish up so I can take you to school.” She walks toward Alfred who’s making a plate for her.

“It still feels weird to leave her sometimes.” She takes the mug from him as well and sips on her coffee.

“Master Bruce wanted to be sure you were safe while he was gone. I don’t think he indeed for it to be permanent but he enjoyed the company as do I.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“If you say so, though I will say we enjoy it with you Alfred. Even considering the circumstances.” Alfred gives her a weak smile and begins washing dishes.

“I guess most Assistants don’t get his kind of attention, or is it due to the fact I keep Bruce on his toes.”

Alfred smiles, “It had been sometime since someone annoyed him the way you did, and I think it loved having someone to color with again.” He glances at Rowan who has finished his food and brings the plate to Alfred.

“What do we say Rowan?”

“Thank you Alfie.” He sings. Alfred smiles warmly at the kid.

“You’re very welcome, now run along and get your shoes so you can go to school.” Rowan runs out the room and Y/n hums.

“These Assassins, do you think they killed Bruce?” She asks. The room is still.

“I don’t know, but I must say I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll contact Ms. Gordon and see if she has any information.”

Y/n places her mug down and walks to the foyer where Rowan has his shoes on with his backpack.

She slides into her sneakers and grabs her keys. “Let’s go kid.”

———-

After dropping off Rowan Y/n pushed through the doors of Wayne Enterprises. Some of the staff waved at her while some held other emotions.

She walked past the front desk and into the elevator towards the top floor. She is met the receptionist Sara who doesn’t look up from her computer.

“Good Morning, do you have an appointment with Mr. Fox?”

“Really Sara.” The ginger grins and looks toward the woman.

“How are you hun?”

“I’m good, about as good as anyone.” The double doors open and Lucius waves her inside.

“I’ll talk with you later.” Y/n walked into the large office where Lucius turned to an old chest table and unlocked hidden elevator. They take it down in the underground bunker.

“So what have you crafted this time?” She grins with her arms crossed over her chest eyeing the new prototypes.

He nods takes a blue batarang, he throws it and it instantly electrifies the dummy.

“Fancy.”

Lucius picks up a device and hands it over to Y/n. “This was something Bruce wanted crafted, I’m still getting it fine tuned but it’s useable. Alfred filled me on our new decline of population use it and it will instantly capture and give a small concentrated burst of energy to those wrapped in it. Should help should you get out numbered by assassins.”

“How thoughtful, I appreciate it. Though I’m sure you giving me new tech isn’t the only reason you wanted to see me so soon. What’s going on?”

He takes a seat and sighs. “Bruce’s memorial is next week. They’re gonna be some changes with stuff around here. Now I’m not leaving per se but with him…gone. My attention will need to be focused more on the business side for a while. I’ve asked Luke to come home he’ll be helping craft some more stuff for you while I’m busy.”

She nods. “I understand, I appreciate you still being able to help.”

He gets to his feet slowly, “My kids now I’d never leave this unless I died. But with his services coming there are something’s that will change for you too I’m sure.”

“I asked what will happen to the manor and the cave. Alfred it’s not just his decision,what does that mean?”

Lucius nods, “Bruce’s son will have to decide what will become of his estate. And they’ll all have to agree,not sure how that’ll go.”

The exit the elevator and the office returns to normal. “Let me know how the device works.” Y/n thanks him before leaving and returning to the manor.

She immediately enters the cave, where Alfred is waiting.

“Ms. Gordon is on the line for you.” Y/n sits her purse down and answers.

“What’s wrong Commissioner?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, the mayor was just killed in his office. How fast can you get down here?”

———

Batwoman emerges from the corner of the office. Barbara looks frustrated as the CSI team dust for prints, take pictures and exam the mayor’s corpse.

“When did you find him?” Batwoman strolls toward the body as a few tech move away.

“Just after lunch, his wife found him.” Batwoman scans the body. She notices the same claw marks and a golden dagger imbedded in his chest.

She takes it out and glances at it. The craftsmen was old but it was just as good as if it was made yesterday.

She returns to the Commissioner who she shows the blade to in a clear bag.

“I’ve never seen it before, can’t say it isn’t something new for use.”

“I don’t think this is a common killer this is the work of something more sinister.” Barbara nods and something catches her eye. It’s a small piece of paper with the same dagger holding it into the wall.

Batwoman takes it and unfolds the paper. She read it and turns to the Commissioner.

“I have to go.” Before Barbara can question her she’s already gone from the balcony.

——

As nightfall begins to sit in Batwoman lands on a rooftop of a hotel with the red neon lights of the building flashing.

She scans empty rooftop and comes to a stop, she dodges left as three morning stars are sent flying. She throws smoke and evades another wave of the weapons.

She backflips from a sword attack and disarms the person causing them to stumble. She begins to fight the ninja and is hit a few times.

“You are no match for me, impostor.” She spats. The ninja kicks Batwoman back and she stumbles giving the ninja time to drive a dagger into his thigh.

“You are nothing like your Predecessor. He was a lot more quicker.” She kick Batwoman who punches her in the side.

Ninja regains her balance and glares at her. “You’ll pay.” She picks up the sword and turns to the her.

“Who are you?” The ninja draws her blade at her throat.

“I am apart of the League of Assassins those who don’t want to be apart of the sorry and pathetic League it as become. Me and my faction are purists who only serve Ra Al Ghul and we will complete his mission. Neither you or this court will stop us.”

“What—court.” The ninja chuckles, “You don’t know, the Court of Owls. Your predecessor was on to them before they killed him. They will try to take Gotham back but we will defeat them, we already have the last known location of the Pits something they can’t recreate, they’ll to will bow before greatness—

Batwoman knocks the woman down and disarms her once more. The two are in a fight for the sword and Batwoman pulls the Assassin way and pulls off her mask.

The woman has a short black bob with a white strike throw her hair.

“Who,are you?” Batwoman huffs. She yells as a dagger is driven into her back.

“Mistress are you hurt?” Another assassin yanks the blade out of Batwoman.

She grins, “I am.” She gets her feet. “My name will be the last thing you hear before the poison kills you, I’m Nyssa and don’t worry about Gotham I’ll take good care of it.” And true to her wound everything went blurry and fuzzy. The last thing Y/n felt was hot then cold and everything faded to black.

————

The flashes of light, sound of being and muffled voices come in and out before slowly Y/n wakes up in the cave to the faint beeping of machines. She sits up and groans as a hand is placed on her’s.

“Barbara?” The older woman nods and squeezes her hand.

“Are you alright the poison nearly killed you?” Y/n tries to sit up but is pushed back down by Barbara.

“You need to rest, Leslie and Alfred worked on you for hours to make you stable you need to give your body time to heal.” She offers her a cup of water which Y/n takes in on gulp.

“Who got me off the rooftop?” Her voice is gruff.

“No, Alfred called in some help.” They both turned to a woman Y/n never wanted to see, at least she hoped.

“Hi kitten.”

“Hello,Selina.” Barbara wheeled out of the room and Selina drew closer taking her spot.

“Alfred called me, he was worried. I happened to be back in—“

“…I don’t care why you’re back, or what you’ve come to steal. I don’t want your help.” Selina kept a somewhat vague smile.

“I understand you hate me for leaving you-“

“My entire life was spent in and out of neighbors houses, in the system because you kept getting sent back to Blackgate. You were never there for me, you or my father you talked on and on about. I’m twenty-five and still don’t know who he is or was knowing you. So I don’t need your help. Not now and not again.” Y/n laid back down and grumbled in pain turning to look at her monitor. “You can go Selina.”

Selina nodded and exited the room. A few moments later Alfred entered and sighed.

“Ms. (L/N) You do know the extent of your injury. I needed to remind you what could have happened if Ms. Kyle wasn’t in the vicinity?”

“….”

He sighs,”Very well, while you were done Ms. Gordon and I had to find the Assassin next move. They’re going to kill everyone in their way in order to defeat one another I hate to say it but we do need the assistance.”

If looks could Alfred thought to himself. “I assume you I’m not referring to Miss Kyle, you’re going to need more than one person to help you take on two deadly threats.”

Against his advice Y/n gets to her feet and exits the medical bay and made a beeline for the computer and begins typing away until four files appear on screen.

“He didn’t talk much about them.” She mumbles to herself.

“They all had their own problems and struggles with Master Bruce. But they all knew when he needed the help, I just pray you’ll ask unlike he wouldn’t.”

“Where can I find them,most of these files are four years old and no known addresses for any of them?”

Alfred moved to the side as Barbara wheeled up to the computer and began typing away as if no time had passed.

“Dick will be easy to find, maybe not to recruit. He owns a martial art and gymnastic studio in East Bludheaven. Tim lives in New York he mostly keeps quiet with attending tech events. The others will take me time to find them, they tend to go off the grid.”

Y/n nod, “I drive out in the morning—“

“I’ll take you to Bludheaven myself, I’ve asked Ms. Gordon to look after Master Rowan for a few nights if that’s okay will you?”

Y/n nods,” I’ll pack.”

———

Stepping onto the curb as a sharp wind bits through the air. Y/n pushes open the door into a dojo. A group of kids are doing routines.

She watches for a moment taking in the warm environment before someone walks behind her.

“Are you picking up or are you just here for the classes?” She turns to see a man in his late thirties. Black hair with sliver streaks, weathered features and bright sky colored eyes.

“Barbara wasn’t wrong, you do look the same.” He rolls his eyes and moves past her.

“Adult classes are Tuesday and Thursday, sign up sheet-“

“I don’t need lessons,” she grabs his arm. “But I do need your help.”

Dick removed his arm and turns to her slowly, almost as if his gaze his scanning her from head to toe.

“So,” he leans in a lowers his voice, “Your the new Rookie.” He smirks which in turns makes Y/n scowl.

“I’ve been at this for three—“

“Try a few decades. Look I know about you you’re not the first detective and probably won’t be the last. But I’m done with capes, cowls and spandex I left that life and I left Gotham.”

He walks past the students with Y/n following him.

“Look I don’t know what your relationship with Bruce was like-“

He scoffs and sits at his desk, “Be thankful for that.”

She narrows her gaze at some photos. Some with other boys younger than him and some of him younger than that.

“I came here for help for Gotham, you know as well as I do that Bruce cared about his mission. I’m not asking you to help me for him, but for the people you care about that are still there. For the memories you still have there the good one and the bad ones.” Dick turns away from her.

“I’m sorry but you need to leave, I can’t help you.” He stands up and opens the door for her. She shakes her head and leaves.

“That was a waste of time, think the others will be much help?” She slides back into the car as it drives down the street.

“I can’t say for sure, but I’ve prepared the jet for you, Master Timothy is in New York and he’s attending a gala.” Y/n sighs in her seat.

For the love of God why are your sons so stubborn Bruce?

[aestheticaltcow]

Phoenix's Crush

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

Your Hangman's girlfriend. Phoenix can't get you out of her head.

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist

“Stop moving Nat. I’m almost done.” Natasha chuckled at your instruction and tried to relax as you straddled her lower abdomen as you finished doing her eye makeup. “Why are we doing this again?” Natasha laughed, unsure of where to put her hands- granted, it’d been like that for over an hour at that point. “Because you said you haven’t done your makeup in like 15 years, and I was bored. You’re humoring me, Nat.”

Natasha felt her stomach twist. You were Hangman’s girlfriend. You and Jake had been long-distance for the past few years due to his deployment schedule but since the success of last year’s uranium mission, The Daggar Squad found themselves a more permanent home in North Island. You moved to San Diego and in with Jake a few weeks ago, and everyone loved you- but Natasha had more… complicated… feelings. 

Natasha had been romantically and sexually interested in women before and had her share of relationships. But you were different in a way that intrigued her. 

You were down-to-earth and funny. You laughed at Natasha’s jokes and took a genuine interest in her. The other Daggar significant others clearly weren’t into what Natasha was, and they hadn’t made an effort to get to know her, at least not beyond writing her off as no threat to their romantic endeavors. 

“The eyebrows got a little 2017 Instagram-y on me, but I think you look absolutely gorgeous—or should I say even more gorgeous than usual?” you smiled as you shifted off Natasha’s hips and onto the couch beside her before reaching over to grab your phone from the coffee table. 

The two of you were taking selfies when your phone rang, flashing Jake’s contact picture across your screen. It was of the two of you from a Navy Ball a few years ago. Jake was in his dress whites while you wore a long emerald green silky dress that complimented your skin tone perfectly. Jake had a hand protectively grasping your hip. Your hands were on his chest while you kissed his cheek lovingly. Natasha swallowed; she wished she’d been in Jake's shoes at that moment. You excused yourself and took Jake’s call in the kitchen.

~

“Take Hayley. Y/N was all fuckin’ over me after-” 

“Shut the fuck up, Bagman. No one wants to hear you objectify your girlfriend.” Natasha spat, interrupting Jake’s explanation of you and his most recent date night. Natasha got up suddenly, making her chair loose balance and fall back.

Coyote’s eyes widened at the outburst, and watched Natasha pick up her lunch tray and storm out of the cafeteria. She pushed past Rooster and Bob. Bob watched her throw her lunch tray out and head toward the rec room. He shot Rooster a confused look before the two men joined Hangman and Coyote at their lunch table. 

“What was that about?” Rooster asked as he set his lunch tray down. He moved to pick up Natasha’s fallen chair before sitting in the one next to it. Hangman shrugged, “I was tellin’ Coyote about this hot tub boat I took Y/N out on, and Phoenix got pissed. The woman needs to get some.” he laughed at the end of his explanation. Rooster and Coyote exchanged a similar look of annoyance before everyone at the table returned to their lunches. 

Bob poked at his food. After flying with her, he knew Phoenix like the back of his hand. She wouldn’t have stormed out like that because Hangman was being a prick—there was something deeper there. He was going to figure it out.

[trickphotography2]

TrickPhotography2's Masterlist

Welcome! This blog is 18+, please respect this.

Requests and asks are open. If you would like to be tagged for any or all of my writing, please fill out my tag form (hyperlinked). I will check ages.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

D-Day (Jake Seresin x Reader series)

After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child. (Jake x Reader, no y/n used)

First and Goal (Jake Seresin x Reader)

Hangman hosts a college football day for the Daggers, only to have Payback bring a history making Angel. (Hangman x female Reader fluff, no use of 'you')

Overtime (Jake Seresin x Reader, First and Goal pt. 2)

It was just supposed to be a football game. But then Hangman took Syla up on her invitation to watch the Blue Angels perform at the Miramar air show. A month after meeting and facing the last home show of her career, the history making Naval Aviator invited Hangman to visit her in Pensacola. She didn't actually expect him to accept. Payback definitely wasn't happy.

'tis the damn season (Jake Seresin x OC series)

After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

The Perfect Match (Jake Seresin x Reader one shot)

Every third week in March, fourth year medical students find out where they'll be going for their residency. A quick 2.2K word one-shot of Jake's girlfriend going through that process.

we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend) (Jake Seresin x unnamed Reader [Ladybug] one shot)

Jake's not entirely sure how the bet came about other than being too drunk and maybe a little bored at the Fourth of July party. But after shaking on it with Yale, he agrees to help the new WSO - Ladybug - out with her crush on Rooster and figure out how to get the two of them to the Navy Ball together. With four months to get it done, it'll be simple. But when the reserved aviator is harder to get to know than expected, Jake has to push her to get out of her own way.

Two Lines (Jake Seresin x Reader one shot)

The last thing Jake expected to see first thing in the morning was a pregnancy test in the trash can. And he definitely didn’t expect a debate with his wife about what those two lines meant. 

Robert 'Bob' Floyd

(Every Step You Take) I'll Be Watching You (Bob Floyd x Reader one shot)

Bob disliked Friday team nights at The Hard Deck but knows they're important to the squad. That is, he disliked them until Penny hires a new summer bartender who gently pushes him to try new things. But when he comes in to find the police asking for her, the last thing he expected was to find himself protecting Evie. Trigger warnings: stalking, attempted assault. (Bob x Reader [Evie], no physical description)

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Santa's North Island Delivery Service (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader one shot)

Stuck at work, Bradley is missing his daughter's first Christmas Eve. But when the squadron decides to turn the hanger into Santa's Workshop, the pilot is able to sneak away to spend a little time with his girls. (Inspired by a true story; Rooster x Reader Christmas fluff)

Wanna Dance with Somebody (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader one shot)

When his girlfriend of three months ditches a night at the Hard Deck after a rough day, Bradley knows just what to do to cheer her up.

[bug66]

Full vesper lineup that I super gave up on u_u I’ll finish it one day…

Some Design Notes under the cut

I did these before really looking at the SVT data log. I do what I want no one tells knuckles which way is north

I need to make Rusty’s hair less orange but I fucked around too much with the colours and I have no idea how to fix it anymore

Everyone is tired and has been fucked up from previous sorties. Except for Snail because he's on so much augment juice.

I need to properly design their body glove suits but they’d be made of a surprisingly thick material- probably made of some crazy patent material that’s protective and can store and purge heat well so it can be worn in all climates.

Since they looked kinda naked with just the skin suit on I liked the idea that they can put a jacket or coveralls over it when not piloting. So all those regulars don’t have to be looking at their caked or cakeless squad leader

Freud- Has the JD Denton sunglasses because my bf just imagined Freud looking like him.

Snail’s getting his own post. Snail containment, but also I draw him as a middle aged man who looks like a 30 year old twink because that’s funny.

O’Keeffe crumpled and old. I also draw him as a trans man but I’m not brave enough to post old man coochie yet…

For Rusty, I originally focused his scarring around the mouth to fit with the muzzled wolf thing, with him using an oxygen mask while piloting as well.

Hawkins dilf. That’s it.

Maeterlinck shaved head because I’m no coward

Swinburne should be giving Patches but I couldn’t make him bald… bro looked like an adult baby…

Pater small. Normal lad :)

[joliackermann]

MY SWTD OC

FINALLY CALEB IS HERE

WOHOOO

His full name is Caleb Evans, becoming Caleb Zakarius after he married later on in his life.

He is my bald squad OC, btw 👀

Here is a little doodle I did of him:

Still working on this tho, but I finally have something to present, so here we go:

Explanation: 

Caleb is one of my pre-existing characters. I wanted to finally create my SWTD OC and used a random name generator and it just gave me the name “Caleb” and I was like “eh, why not?”

So this Caleb is technically Caleb from TS4 Vampires, but from my super old legacy save file. Gonna write some more about this later.

My sims 4 save file is a canon part of my book universe, so technically this is canon in my book as well?

It’s honestly kind of complicated, but since this OC is part of my book universe, I will apply the rules of my universe to this character.

Basically there is this thing, where time and space can sometimes be a bit unstable.

You know the feeling when you can’t find something, even though you are 100% sure that it has to be there somewhere?

Or all those missing people, whose bodies were never found?

Yeah. That’s what happened to them.

They were taken from their time, their universe and put somewhere random in another universe, without really knowing or understanding what had just happened.

Spoiler: this is how Caleb survives. 

Backstory:

Caleb grew up in an abusive household, becoming very protective of his sister from a very young age.

At only sixteen years old, his sister decided to run away with an older man, leaving Caleb with nothing.

He knew he needed money if he wanted to escape from home, which he now could. Without his sister, there was nothing holding him there.

Which is why, at the age of twenty four, he decided to take a job on an oil rig in the North Sea. 

When first arriving, he was placed in a room with Addair, since no other rooms were currently available due to water damage.

His job was simple; helping Roy in the galley. Following instructions, not really having to think for himself. For the first time ever, he could turn his brain off and just live, not having to care about anything really. 

He got along well with Roy right from the start, but let's be honest, who wouldn’t?

Roy was understanding whenever Caleb made any mistakes and was willing to help him, becoming a sort of mentor to him.

With Addair, the start was a lot rougher.

Addair never tried hiding his political views, giving Caleb flashbacks from his abusive home. For a moment, he was scared that the universe wanted to pull a prank on him and Addair was going to turn out to be a copy of his father.

But Addair had many good qualities and even though he and Caleb didn’t have the same political viewpoints, they got along great.

Addair gave Caleb another perspective; showing that even someone with these kinds of views could be a good human and a good father.

It was almost as if Addair was healing bits of the damage done by Caleb's father. 

For the first time, he didn’t need to protect anybody. Instead, he was being the one who was being protected by others.

Over time, Caleb's relationship with both Roy and Addair developed into something more. Nobody ever really talked about it, but Roy and Addair give him security and the feeling of being loved; something he never really had before.

Roys and Addairs relationship changes as well. Roy and Addair never really had a problem with each other, being mostly neutral to one another. But both overly protective over Caleb and in love with him, even though they never said a single word. Everybody knew, even though they themselves didn’t even really realise, and everybody accepted it. 

The events of the game: 

So Caleb was with Roy for the beginning part of the day.

After Caz decided to go to the lifeboats, Caleb went on his way to find Addair.

He knew Roy was safe, hiding in the pantry with Caz looking out for him.

But Addair was somewhere out there and Caleb needed to find him. 

He actually encountered mutated Gibbo at one point, though both held their distance.

When Caleb asked him about Addair, Gibbo had a breakdown. He couldn’t think straight for a moment and went for Caleb, though Caleb managed to outrun him, locking the door behind him before bringing more distance between himself and Gibbo.

But soon after, he started feeling worse; hearing voices. More specifically, his sister’s cries, from when they were kids and their father, in a fit of rage, had thrown his half empty beer bottle at his children.

It was something he often did when he had too much to drink. 

Trying to escape the voices and the visions, Caleb started running before suddenly breaking down as he felt pain shooting through his body.

It was the worst pain he had ever felt.

Worse than the stinging feeling when the beer bottle had hit him in the head, or the burning sensation when he was forced to pick up the broken glass and cut his hands. Worse than all the times his father had beaten him.

Caleb closed his eyes in pain and when he opened them again, he was somewhere else.

TS4/Book universe:

At first he thought it was only another hallucination.

After opening his eyes, Caleb found himself on the ground outside, a giant black castle right in front of him.

It was night, even though he was 100% sure that it had been the middle of the day just seconds ago. 

A strange man opened the door.

He was tall and skinny, his hair grey and his face full of wrinkles. He looked a thousand years old, at least.

The man smiled at Caleb and asked him if he needed help; said he knew just the right thing. A cure for every disease possible.

Caleb agreed, not really having anything to lose, his sister's voice still crying in his head. 

The cure turned out to be more of a curse, but it was too late when Caleb realised, already on his way to become the blood child of the mysterious master vampire. 

Caleb lived a hundred years, studying medicine and working night shift at the hospital. He had time and the hospital had an endless supply of blood.

It took years for Caleb to let people into his life again.

He had lost so much and was afraid to lose even more, so for a hundred years, he kept his distance. 

But then came this boy, the son of an acquaintance. Leif Zakarius, the third child of Johannes and Mike Zakarius.

They hadn’t meant for Leif to come into this world, having already enough to do with only two children and a cat at home.

But Leif came into this world and proceeded to stay there longer than any other of his family members. 

Leif always felt like an outsider in his family.

Much like Caleb, he wandered aimlessly through life.

And with time, they fell in love.

It was the first time in a hundred years that Caleb had allowed himself to love again.

Not knowing any cure for the vampire curse, he turned Leif into a vampire instead. It was either spend eternity together or die together as old men, but that wasn’t an option.

Soon, at least for vampires, they welcomed their first and only daughter into the world.

Fiona Zakarius, a beautiful, intelligent girl.

Never before had Caleb loved someone so much.

He became protective, overly protective if you asked Leif, and when she started dating an older man, Caleb was against it.

His sister had run away with an older man and he was afraid that his daughter would do the same thing to him.

But she didn’t. Sure, she moved in with the older man, turned him into a vampire, wanting to spend eternity with him, but she often came to visit and whenever the man was not at home, Caleb came to visit her as well. 

It seemed like he was finally in a position where he could allow himself to heal.

[vivalas-vega]

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part one

hehe a new fic, this honestly started as a one shot and then I got carried away, what’s new. excited to explore this sorta-enemies to sorta-friends to lovers idea!!! lmk what you think :) (the summary is weak, I’ll update it tomorrow when I have more brain capacity)

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part one

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 2.8k

warnings: jake’s an ass but he redeems himself, mentions of death, language, think that’s it

“What the fuck, Bagman?” you asked, storming after him through the hangar. 

“Can I help you with something, Cobra?” He turned to face you, that megawatt smirk stopping you in your tracks as a new wave of anger rolled through you.

“Just living up to your name, are we? What the hell was that up there?” You threw your helmet down on a nearby table and stared up at him with an intensity he had to genuinely try not to be rattled by. “We’re supposed to be teaching them something, us staying at Top Gun is not an excuse for you to fuck off and showboat and play darts at the Hard Deck every night.”

“I think I did teach them something, sweetheart.” His nonchalance was infuriating, prickling your skin and filling you with a desire to hit him.

“And what the hell might that be?” you questioned.

“What to do if you find yourself without a wingman. You know better than anyone it can happen in the blink of an eye,” he said and you felt your heart drop. Somewhere behind you Bob dropped his coffee cup, the sound of ceramic colliding with the concrete registering faintly in the back of your mind as you stared at Hangman. Rooster and Phoenix had been watching from a few feet away, casually enjoying the latest Cobra-Hangman showdown but now looked between the two of you in utter horror at the words Hangman dared to speak.

“Cobra-” Hangman started, realizing what he had said too late. “Fuck, that’s not what I meant,” he took a step towards you, arms outstretched as if he wanted to pull you in but you took a step back, shaking your head at him.

“You said it, Hangman, least you could do is be a man and own it.” you sneered, giving him one last look laced with disappointment and disgust as you pushed past him. Rooster went to follow you but Phoenix stopped him.

“Give her a minute,” she muttered, walking up to Hangman. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked and he was at a loss for words. She just nodded her head and walked towards the door you had just stormed through, “she genuinely cares about you, you know,” she said, stopping at the door and calling out to him, “you have a shitty way of returning the favor.” 

You sat on a bench in the locker room, your flight suit you’d just kicked off crumpled at your feet as Rooster slowly approached and sat beside you. “I’m fine, Roo, don’t need to check on me.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he replied. “It was a low blow. I’m the last person to defend him, but for what it’s worth I genuinely don’t think he meant anything by it.”

“Hard to miss the subtext, Rooster.” you sighed, appreciating the fact that the two of them had gotten to the point where he would even be having this conversation with you, but not sharing the same outlook on Hangman’s jab. “It’s on me for believing that he’d changed, even a little, after the mission. It’s Hangman’s world, we’re all just living in it.”

It was Rooster’s turn to sigh, “I think he has, Cobra, he’s just… you know how he is, he gets challenged and he slips back into asshole-Hangman to overcompensate and protect himself from it, and 90 percent of your interactions are you challenging him. I think you should talk to him, if it’s any consolation he looked like a kicked puppy when you walked away.” 

“It's a little bit of a consolation,” you laughed dryly. He leaned in to kiss your temple before standing and leaving you alone with your thoughts. Being stationed to North Island as the newly-official Dagger Squad had brought you peace and comfort, teaching at Top Gun for the last month was a well-needed and well-deserved break for all of you, and you’d grown so much closer knowing when you eventually were deployed again it would be together. They had all been there right after you lost your wingman. You were assigned to the detachment only a few weeks after, your commanding officer had said something about regretting the timing of it but your presence on the mission was a direct order from way up. They’d all seen how it affected you in the air and on the ground, watching as you fought against the tidal wave of emotions threatening to pull you under every day, and were the very reason you stayed afloat and earned a place among the selected members for the mission.

Hangman had made great strides, losing some of the bravado and being more of a team player. Until he met you, he’d never seen firsthand the effect losing a teammate had on someone. He hadn’t admitted it aloud to anyone, but your panicked shouts over the radio when being ordered to stay on track after Maverick and Rooster went down struck him to his very core, had awoken something in him he didn’t even know was there. He couldn’t handle hearing your distress, let alone seeing it when you arrived back and tuned out every order to fly after them, to go against his own callsign and put his ass on the line for his teammates. Ever since that day he’d been different, kinder and softer, while still maintaining some of that cocky arrogance that was simply just a Hangman thing. You’d seen the progress before your very eyes, watched him grow and become a better human and better pilot, and you tried to remind yourself of that but the sting of him throwing the loss of your wingman in your face overpowered it all, it opened a pit in your stomach and had tears stinging at your eyes as you quickly stood to gather your belongings and go home. 

Home was what you had needed. A hot shower and the lack of your stiff uniform allowed you room to breathe, room to just be without worrying about the eyes of your teammates, your students, and your superiors. You’d known from the beginning, from the moment you put the pen to your Naval Academy application that you were choosing one of the hardest paths available to you. It was a hard enough road on it’s own, but throw in the simple fact of being a woman had you working ten times harder for a fraction of the praise and recognition until you finally clawed your way up, established yourself as one of the best, earned a call sign that echoed throughout bases across the world. It had angered you at first, being told ‘huh, I expected you to be a guy,’ when people finally got to put a face to the name, but that had all changed when you met Hangman.

“And what do we have here?” The tall blonde asked, oozing arrogance as his eyes trailed your form. 

“Cobra,” you introduced, eyes narrowing and mouth turning down in disgust at the feeling of his eyes looking everywhere but your own.

“Cobra? The Cobra? Well damn, I guess I should have figured you’d be joining us. Best of the best and all. Have to say sweetheart, you are exactly what I pictured.” Your resolve broke, raising an eyebrow and looking at him inquisitively. This was a first, normally people couldn’t wait to tell you how much you were not what they imagined.

“Is that so? Are you saying that to butter me up or did you really not picture a Keanu Reeves type?”

“No way, the stories I’ve heard about you, darlin’? Only a woman could be that calculated.” 

Hangman saw you, like really saw you, as much as it was a fact you hated to admit. You two were more alike than not, two hotshot pilots with something to prove and tongues sharper than knives. Before he’d even met you he knew you had the same fire and hunger as him, someone who simply wouldn’t accept not being the best even if it killed you. You had something most people didn’t, Hangman’s respect, and that always showed even when you were nose-to-nose screaming in each other’s faces, cursing the very moment the other was born. 

Your phone dinged from its abandoned spot on the couch next to you, pulling your eyes from the spot on the wall they’d been boring a hole into as your thoughts ran rampant.

Ken Doll: I’m outside. 

You sighed, setting your phone back down, keen on ignoring it and letting him sit out there as long as he liked until he finally went home. Your leg began shaking as your foot tapped erratically on the floor below you, watching the hands tick by signaling one minute… three minutes… ten minutes.

Ken Doll: Please?

You stood, marching to your front door and throwing it open to reveal a Hangman you’d only ever seen once before. There was no smirk, no biting comment about taking your time, no cocky attitude, all that was before you was a guilty man who, quite honestly, looked like shit. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Got it,” you said, already angling to close your door in his face, but he stuck his foot out, wincing as the sharp edge of the wood dug in before bouncing back. 

“Look, I get you’re pissed but knock it off.” he said, exhaling sharply as he pushed your door all the way open and into your home as you stumbled backwards and looked at him bewildered.

“Excuse me?”

“I did a shitty thing, but you say all the time we’re a family so let’s act like it. Families fuck up and then they talk about it, so let’s talk,” he walked over to your couch and sat down right in the spot you were previously occupying. Your face contorted into something resembling confusion as you tentatively walked to the couch and sat, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Alright, talk,” you said exasperated, gesturing as if to say the floor is yours. 

“I shouldn’t have left you wide open in the air like that. You were right, that’s not what we’re here to do and I should have been there to cover you. I don’t know if it’s any consolation, but you really didn’t need me... regardless, you shouldn’t have been in the position of having to figure it out on your own,” his tone was gentle and you took a moment to wonder if you preferred this Hangman or the one from a few hours ago. At least with the latter you knew how to handle it and what to expect, this was uncharted territory and you fiddled with your fingers in discomfort.

“Is that all?” you asked, your voice small.

“No, I shouldn’t have said that. You were standing there yelling at me and you had that look in your eyes that honestly scares the shit out of me, and I don’t know… old Hangman took over and wanted to hit you where it would hurt, but I- I don’t want to be that anymore. You drive me nuts and genuinely piss me off more than anyone I’ve ever met, but I don’t want to actually hurt you and I’m sorry that I did.” 

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you all but muttered, keeping your gaze anywhere but on him as you pretended to be interested in the hem of your sweatshirt. It was silent for a moment as Hangman tried to formulate a response but he didn’t really have one, he desperately wished that you would say more than that. This was uncharted territory for him too, he’d spent ten minutes in his car reading articles from therapy websites about how to genuinely apologize to make sure he got it right, knowing if he didn’t he’d only make things worse. You were sitting there a few feet away from him, refusing to look at him and fiddling with your sweatshirt and he felt like he might throw up, almost wishing you were screaming at him instead of looking so small. He’s fucked up with you a dozen times in the past, whether it be pissing you off in the air or taking the friendly fire a little too far when playing pool at the Hard Deck but this was different, it was personal and pointed directly at your deepest hurt. You two were the least-close of the entire squad, your friendship being summed up into competition and the occasional surface-level conversation over a beer when everyone else busied themselves elsewhere, and Hangman had worked overtime to get it to that point. He didn’t know if he could handle you going back to ignoring him over this misstep.

He felt panic bubble in his chest as he saw a tear slide down your cheek, “fuck, Cobra,” he scooted closer to you and your body went rigid with his proximity, “I said something stupid and now you’re crying, and I- tell me how I can fix this.” 

You just shook your head, “although I’m not surprised your immediate thought is this being about you,” you said with a soft laugh as you wiped your cheeks, “I was actually thinking about Henry.” Hangman relaxed a little, waiting for you to continue, “I think he would’ve liked you to be honest. He was constantly on my ass… he always said his day of work wasn’t done unless he had humbled me at least once,” you laughed again, “if he were here he would tell me to let this go, to stop being mad at you and focus on why it actually upset me.”

“You’ve never talked about him before,” he commented, now that he thought about it he’d never even heard you say his name. He only knew it through overhearing a conversation between Cyclone and Maverick. Maverick had been fighting tooth and nail for you while Cyclone thought you were a ticking time bomb that needed to be grounded. It didn’t take long for everyone to piece together what had happened, the way you snapped like a rubber band every time Hangman lived up to his name, the way Maverick treated you with a gentleness he didn’t have for anyone else… not even Rooster. The final clue was a night out that first week, you’d been talking about your former teams and Phoenix had told a funny story about her old wingman, something you’d thought Henry would find hysterical. You’d pulled your phone out and started to say ‘oh my god, I have got to tell mine-” before your face fell, immediately putting a wall up and trying to push past it like you’d never opened your mouth. Hangman had relayed the overheard conversation and from that moment on it was an unspoken truth everyone knew but didn’t acknowledge directly, giving you support when you needed it without addressing the elephant in the room.

“Most of the time it doesn’t feel like it actually happened, like it was maybe just a bad dream. I’m pretty sure my brain tricks me into thinking he’s just with a new squad on deployment because it’s easier than the alternative. I’m not angry about what you said, I’m angry that you reminded me.” 

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed what you said, the words splitting his heart in two. “Cobra, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head, “I mean… it is but, it’s just one of those things, you know? I could have just as easily been reminded by a memory from my Instagram stories or an old squadmate reaching out. I don’t really have anything to be mad at you for… this is what we do, we yell at each other and say things we don’t really mean.”

“Do you ever think maybe we shouldn’t do that?” he asked.

“No. I like our dynamic, I don’t know why I didn’t realize it until today but it reminds me of what I had with Henry, the only thing missing is the actual friendship part.” You smiled sadly, feeling like it was maybe a harsh thing to say.

“I’d like to be your friend, like… your actual friend. Not just someone you spar with and get your ass kicked by in pool.”

You scoffed, “you don’t always kick my ass.”

“Percentage wise, I’m pretty sure I come out on top.” 

“Have you been keeping count?”

“Not really, but I just know I’ve won more than you have.”

“Oh, you just know? That’s some bulletproof evidence, Seresin, when your career in aviation crashes and burns I think you’ve got a real shot at making it as a lawyer.” He chuckled at your response, happy to see you coming back out of your shell.

“What do you say, Rattlesnake, wanna be real friends?” he asked, extending his hand.

“That’s not my name, you’re off to a bad start.” He just raised an eyebrow at you and you cracked, smiling and shaking on it, “real friends.” 

“Who knows, maybe more... I’m told my charm is irresistible,” he said with that famous smirk, using the leverage of still holding your hand to pull you closer and you just laughed before shoving him.

“Yeah, in your dreams, Bagman.”

next part

[grizzersmamma]

Omg omg omg omg I just read both of your Deamon AU fics???? They are so good!! And beautifully written!!!

please please if not too much trouble, can I please request for that Au?? Maybe like all of 141 meeting each other and Deamon’s for the first time?? I picture Gaz has some kind of bird like a mourning dove or a humming bird and Price has a stronger dog breed- like a Shepard of a sheep bearding dog — y know something protective?

UGH I LOVE THIS AUUU A

((sorry if you aren’t taking requests on this, I just wanna say it’s the best thing I’ve read💕💕💕))

Requests are always open! (I just might take a while because I'm slow af lol)

I wanted to get this out this weekend just passed, but I got a fresh 'rona shot on Friday and it took me out with more precision than a sniper bolt to the face jfc. I absolutely adore the thought of Gaz with a little birb (a pretty one ofc), but I'd actually already picked something out for him, so I hope you like it almost as much as your idea. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: John Price has hand picked every member of his Task Force carefully to create the perfect team we have today, even if it hasn't always felt like that.

Notes: Written from Price's POV reflecting on the team's past.

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Taglist: @heyitsropi

The first time John met Simon, he was only that, Simon Riley. The Ghost was yet to exist, and in his place, was a young man still full of life. He was friendly enough to the men close to him, but with a weariness toward anyone unknown.  

That caution, of course, extended toward John in the early few days. The first few times they interacted, he was strictly professional, his daemon even more so. The panther would stalk along beside her human, remaining in silence throughout all discussions, coming and leaving as quietly as a shadow. 

But over time, the younger man gradually began to settle. Simon certainly wasn’t the only person in the military to suffer from a rather poor childhood riddled with trauma and pain, and his team were kind enough to never push him too far. He would always maintain a slight distance between himself and the rest of the men on his squad, but he was often quick to smile and joke with them, telling what very well could have been the worst “dad jokes” known to man.  

Both Simon and Elanor seemed to revel in the pained groans his terrible jokes could invoke, smiling innocently as if not understanding why everyone was so upset. It wasn’t a surprise to learn that Simon had a younger brother, he certainly had the annoying-older-brother act nailed down perfectly.  

After a few good missions together, Simon was less reluctant to talk about his family with John in the room, discussing what he planned to get his nephew for Christmas, where he wanted to take his mum out for lunch during leave, and how he was going to get Tommy back for getting a stain on his ManU jersey.  

Simon was a good man and a great soldier, and John was disappointed when the time came for him to return to his own unit. John was to travel up north toward Herefordshire and Simon was to meet with some of their American contacts to help root out a cartel down in Mexico.  

Ghost was not the same person as Simon. He had the same daemon, the same brown eyes, but he was not Simon. He lacked the underlying gentleness in his eyes, and he’d grown to be cold and closed off toward everyone around him, friend or foe.  

If Simon’s daemon had been quiet before, she was dead silent now. Liz would trot over to the cat with a slowly wagging tail and try to greet her, but the panther would just look at her, before slinking off to go rejoin her human. It was heartbreaking to see a daemon who had only just started to come out of her shell become so walled off again.  

Sometimes he wouldn’t even see the animal in the same room and couldn’t help wondering where the daemon could have vanished to. Just seeing a daemon so far away from its human sent a shiver down John’s spine whenever he thought about it, his fingers instinctively curling themselves into the soft fur of his own.  

The reports he had seen about what had happened to Simon to create this Ghost, some of them first-hand from Simon’s own therapist, sent his stomach rolling uncomfortably, and the parts about their treatment of Elanor? He had sweat beading his forehead and Liz pulled into his lap. The rough collie did her best to comfort him, but he could feel her own distress at just the thought of such a thing happening.  

It took well over half a year before Ghost and Elanor were comfortable with turning their backs on John and Liz, and several before they were comfortable working alongside them. The Ghost and his daemon worked alone, but John and Liz were gradually, slowly, at the rate of a melting glacier, becoming an exception to the rule.  

This made it particularly difficult when Ghost was introduced to Soap.  

John MacTavish was, and still is, a loud and confident man. He doesn’t tolerate nonsense and will proudly stand behind his own personal morals and beliefs, even if it’s to the detriment of his professional career. He stands for what’s right, regardless of the consequences, and he’s entirely unapologetic of that fact.  

Soap’s daemon, Gwen, is a perfect match for him. A honey badger, just as unconcerned with the thoughts and feelings of others, and entirely fearless, even when up against daemons easily twice her size. They share a fierce aggression that would have most shaking in their boots, and John has seen firsthand even lions fleeing from their warpath.  

To say that Soap was a bit... much... for Ghost would be an understatement. Soap is so openly friendly with every team he works with, both verbally and physically, and his rather emotional responses to things seem to constantly have the masked soldier on edge.  

Since their first meeting, Soap has learned to reign in his emotions and has matured greatly with the help of experience and the guiding hands of more seasoned soldiers. But several years ago, fresh out of SAS selection, he was far too much for a quiet Ghost who could hardly stand having even John working with him at the best of times.  

While their first meeting didn’t exactly go swimmingly, it ended amicably enough since Soap didn’t seem to take Ghost’s reluctance to socialise to heart. Meanwhile, Ghost just appeared glad to have a break from spending time around someone so bright and bubbly, almost immediately vanishing on a solo mission for a week.  

Kyle was a much safer bet for working alongside Ghost. The young man, while inexperienced, was the top of his class and always eager to learn more. He was like a sponge, soaking up every little piece of advice he’s given and doing his best to apply it to his work. He always asks the right questions at the right times, and always thinks on his words before speaking.  

His daemon, a friendly marbled polecat by the name of Milly, was the first daemon Elanor was willing to open up to. She wasn’t insistent like many of the other daemons in the military, providing the panther with plenty of space, but always choosing to sit beside her, greeting her with a happy chirp. These simple greetings were eventually returned with small nods or pleasant rumbles, and over time, and two daemons fell into the rhythm of being at one another’s side.  

Gaz was always seeking out new things to learn and Ghost had plenty to teach. No matter how difficult the lesson, he would always have the determination to see it through to the end, and his mature, competent nature was gradually winning over the stubborn lieutenant. On the rare occasion where Kyle wasn’t with John, he could be confident that Ghost would have the younger man’s back.  

But Gaz brought more than plain professionalism to their team, he also brought the fun, youthful spark that the group had been missing. His sassy remarks during OPs and cheeky behaviour off the field was worming its way under Ghost’s thick skin, and John could see it in the way his lieutenant began to offer banter of his own in return.  

It was like watching a grizzled old dog interacting with a friendly young pup, slowly relearning what it meant to actually enjoy life here and there. Sometimes Ghost still needed that time to be alone with Elanor, but Kyle and Milly were drawing them out of the dark and back into the light again.  

More often than not the two could be found sitting peacefully together, doing nothing but enjoying the company of their fellow brother in arms. Whether it was eating meals together in private where others wouldn’t see Ghost removing part of his mask, running on the track first thing in the morning to wake themselves up, or claiming the bench under the old tree where they could discuss upcoming schedules or laugh at the young recruits just learning to walk, it was all done by each other's side.  

John could see the pride in Ghost’s eyes whenever Gaz managed to get an upper hand on him in training, he could see how Elanor now greeted Milly with a gentle headbutt, how trust was building between them and their team was solidifying into something unbreakable. Gaz was a loyal man, almost to a fault, but he had awarded that loyalty to John and Ghost and, in return, had been given it back tenfold. 

But the team was yet to be complete, and it wouldn’t be, not until John MacTavish joined them.  

John was admittedly still not certain how well Ghost would take to working so closely with Soap after finding the other man a tad overwhelming the first time, but with Liz’s encouragement and seeing how much Ghost was beginning to come out of his shell, he had no choice but to commit to the selection. Soap’s file reported nothing but constant rapid improvement. He was a talented, driven man, and precisely someone John wanted on his new task force.  

The offer was sent out and immediately accepted.  

Soap and Gaz were, understandably, complete menaces. Two young men eager to prove themselves and have a little fun while they’re at it. They’re thick as thieves and both just as determined to inconvenience John as much as possible while dodging reprimands like the plague. “A bunch of children” he’d called them one day, earning a grunt of agreement from Ghost, Liz and Elanor sharing a look of endless suffering. 

As for the relationship between Ghost and Soap, the best John was hoping for was for them to learn to accept one another, even if that was just enough to be able to put their best foot forward during missions. And it worked well enough, until Las Almas happened. Until Sheperd happened. 

Until Simon happened.  

Years of hiding away, and suddenly it wasn’t Ghost standing before him. It was Simon.  

Soap was looking right at him, and Simon was looking right back.  

Something had changed between them. From the report he got from the two soldiers about the events that transpired he couldn’t tell what, but it was clearly something significant. It had changed them from work colleagues to something far more dangerous. A better man would have nipped it in the bud before it had the change to potentially ruin them, but John has never claimed to be a good man, good men don’t last long in their line of work.  

If he and Gaz are a good team, Ghost and Soap are unstoppable.  

When they think he’s not looking, John has caught how Gwen excitedly jumps around Elanor’s body, learning against the dangerous predator and covering her with affectionate licks. More surprising, is how Elanor returns the behaviour, nipping playfully at the badger’s feet and tussling about on the carpet like a pair of kittens.  

It isn’t until he sees Soap’s bare hand brush through Elanor’s fur that he knows the depth of what they are to one another.  

He just hopes he hasn’t made a horrible mistake.  

[lovecatsys]

Some Random, unorganized, Academy X Headcanons

Because I've been thinking about them a lot lately, again.

More under the cut cuz this is really long, also cw for one headcanon that talks about self harm, grooming and sexual trauma (because. Kevin) it's the 7th dot.

Laurie should have a period of being besties with and being corrupted by Esme Cuckoo, this could take place either during or post Krakoa, or in an au where she doesn't die/m day doesn't happen, probably after the Garrison arc would have concluded.

Kevin has a slight southern accent, probably not super strong because he's from Atlanta, but enough to tell that he's not from the north. This goes in contrast with his style of course which makes it more interesting.

On naturally windy days, Sofia likes to train herself by going outside and immersing herself in the wind, and playing around with her powers, seeing how she can make her wind flow with, and against the natural wind. She likes to think of it as "flirting with mother nature." She even talks to "her" sometimes.

Brian playfully flirts with David when their squads still have a rivalry, long before David discovers his own bisexuality. He is completely clueless, has no idea that Brian is flirting with him. Sometimes this pisses Julian off, usually because HE'S supposed to be the one who has a rivalry with David, but when its a little more rude, they often play off of each other. This only adds to David's insecurity about himself, along with confusing him.

Nori has a lot of difficulty with relationships after she and David break up. She has an on again, off again thing with Julian that's really messy and toxic, mostly fueled by older teenage horniness and the close bond they develop post M day. She struggles with trusting that the people she gets close to aren't going to die or get terribly hurt, so she either pushes people away or clings to them really hard in an attempt to protect them. When Julian loses his hands, she's not only incredibly devastated but she begins to avoid him and push him away even more, which furthers his own complex about losing his hands, thinking that she's avoiding him because of his disability.

Nori also explores her sexuality as she gets older, becomes progressively more masculine, gets an even shorter haircut, probably an undercut, and has a lot of casual sex with a bunch of her female classmates, but never allows herself to get close to them or for it to mean anything other than meaningless sex to get by. While she tries to wear her sexuality with pride, she's still insecure about it, and thinks of her relationships with guys as more meaningful than those with girls, mostly because she's still scared of getting too close and losing them. She finds it easier with guys to pull off a complicated relationship like the one she has with Julian. She deeply longs to have a healthier relationship with a girl or a boy, like the one she had with David, but she's convinced herself that it's not safe because of the trauma she's endured.

I don't think Kevin should learn to control his powers, kind of in the same way I don't think Scott should ever lose his visor. But I think he would grow into learning how to live with them. I think he has a really complicated relationship with his own body, which was furthered by his sexual trauma from Selene. I think it also takes him a LONG time after he's resurrected to not think of Selene as like. the love of his life, because of the grooming and also because he craved the fact that she could touch him. I think Kevin also struggles with self harm, the fact that no one can touch him and he has to keep himself covered most of the time makes it really easy to get away with, and because of his complicated relationship with his body, he takes comfort in it. I think it would take a really long time and a lot of therapy for him to unlearn this habit like it would for him to learn that Selene had abused and traumatized him.

More on the first thing in the last note: I personally ship Kevin and Josh as endgame, and while I think their relationship would be unhealthy and weird for both of them at first, I think they could grow to be very healthy for each other. I imagine they would have a specialized house built with as few organic materials as possible, and if they had biological children somehow, their children would be immune to Kevin's powers. I think they would both work at some sort of mutant clinic, figuring out how to use their powers in tandem to cure cancer and other diseases, while Josh works there full time doing other things, Kevin would only do part time and spend his spare time making his industrial art. I think as he improves, his art would become a reflection of his pain. Frida Kahlo is probably his biggest inspiration, though she painted instead of sculpted.

Julian was able to bounce back from his bad post schism era with Emma's help at the start of Krakoa, I imagine she kind of fished him out of the gutter and helped him start his life anew, attempting to make up for the way she neglected him when the X-Men first moved to San Francisco. He mostly went along with it at first because of the promise of seeing Sofia again, but he becomes sold when he learns that Brian is going to be resurrected. (Also, meeting the OG Hellions was a motivator for sure, but he's a little disappointed when he learns that most of them were just nice, chill people, except for Empath, who he likes at first, but then upon learning how Truly awful he us, despises.) Brian's resurrection ends up proving to be not what he had hoped, because Brian is still a teenager, and is overwhelmed by how much Julian has changed, how much older he is and how all the traumas he went through after Brian's death affected him. When Sofia returns, they get back together very quickly, and while they both have pain about what they both endured after M Day, it gets easier and better for them quickly.

Jay and Laurie become closer after they've both been resurrected, they can both relate to the disconnection from their friends and previous romantic interests due to the age gaps and gaps in experiences. I think they could end up becoming one of those couples who you don't necessarily think would be into each other at first, but they just become close and it ends up working. I think Jay could be a very forgiving person for Laurie, especially because he was never personally attached to the drama she had with Josh and Kevin. I think he could also make her better in a weird way, and she could bring out a much happier side in him.

When Kevin is resurrected on Krakoa, I think he is isolated from the hellions and other academy x kids at first; they all try to forgive him and help him out, but he simply isn't ready to be helped yet. He doesn't want to believe that he was a victim of Selene like they all say, and he hates that they try to treat him as such. Emma however, feels incredibly guilty for what happened to him and as he was like a son to her before m day, she invites him to live in her castle and has a specialized room built for him with no organics. He mostly isolates himself there, especially because the island is almost entirely organic. While there, he interacts with Julian a lot, and while they try to avoid each other at first, they end up becoming like brothers, and Kevin likes interacting with him more than the other people because he doesn't treat him like a victim or walk on egg shells around him, he says things like they are, despite his own guilt complex about what happened to Kevin. Emma considers them both to be like the sons she's never had, so she encourages them to be close again as well.

When Selene is elected onto the council, Emma sends Kevin off of the island, not telling him why, but he agrees to it because he's tired of being cooped up on an island where he can't do much. She pays rent for his apartment, while he goes back to getting a job in a junk yard, and taking online high school classes so he can eventually go to art school. Julian visits him occasionally to hang out, even though its awkward, he's the only person that Kevin allows to make an effort to spend time with him. (Emma is able to keep Kevin well shielded and safe during the Orchis nonsense, of course.)

Okay I'm gonna have to continue this in reblogs lol. See the rbs for more!

[sarahsmi13s]

This Is How It Feels

whumptober day 5: hostage / kidnapping / held at gunpoint

pairing: beau 'cyclone' simpson x daughter!reader

characters: beau simpson, y/n simpson, reagan simpson, ncis: new orleans team, the squad breifly, hayden and frankie, everett north (oc villian), cameron north (deceased)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, kidnapping, torture, guns, blood, waterboarding, loss of will to live, oc character death, revenge killing, if i missed any please tell me!

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

also also, i do want to apologize for getting this up late got distracted while writing it so i finished it later than i had hoped

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: a parent's grief is strong and powerful and it can make you crazy, if the opportunity presents itself to get revenge... you take it

“Simpson!”

You turned at the call of your name, spotting your friends waving to you from the front of a bar. “C’mon! We’re starving!”

Shaking your head, you jogged over. “You two, my goodness,” you laughed before you all walked in. “Are you sure we can even eat here? It’s a bar.” “We’ve eaten at the Hard Deck before,” your friend, Hayden, said as she walked over to a table.

“Okay okay, you have a point there. Just don’t try anything stupid, we’re all repping the school, but I’m also repping the Navy and my dad. So if any of you try to pull-”

“Relax, Simpson, I left my fake ID in California,” Frankie, your best friend said as she nudged you playfully.

“Simpson?” 

You looked up to see an older gentleman standing there with an apron around his waist. 

“As in Beau Simpson?” He asked, looking over your face quizzically.

You nodded, “Yes sir, he’s my dad.” The man chuckled, “Yeah, I know your dad, grew up down the street from my mama. I’m sure he hasn’t talked about me much, I’m Dwayne Pride – folks around here call me King.”

“Oh! Yeah, Dad did tell me about you,” you said with a smile and stood up to shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Dwayne chuckled, “You can call me Dwayne…” He trailed off, brow arched as he silently prompted you to fill in the blank. “Y/N, I’m Y/N.” He smiled and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You sat back down, but looked up at him. “Now, is your mama Reagan Autry?” You nodded, “Sure is!” He chuckles, “I knew they’d last. Anyhow, what can I get y’all to drink?”

Back in North Island, the squad was at Cyclone’s house for a little get together.

“Where’s Y/N?” Mav asked, sipping his drink as Beau sat down. “Oh her culture club is visiting New Orleans for Mardi Gras week,” Reagan said as she sat down on the arm on Beau’s chair.

“Now y’all are from NOLA, right?” Jake asked, relaxing back on the couch. They nodded, “Sure are. High school sweethearts at that.” He nodded, “That’s impressive.” “It is, because of all the hours and missed dates over the years because he’s such a hard worker,” she said, kissing the side of Beau’s head.

“I made up for it though,” he chuckled and squeezed her hip. “Yeah, you d-”

Reagan’s statement was cut off by Beau’s phone ringing.

He furrowed his brow and picked it up, checking the caller ID to see that it was Frankie.

“I better take this, excuse me,” he sat his drink down and stood before going out on the back patio.

He closed the door as he answered, “Frankie? What’s-” 

“Y/N’s been taken!” 

Beau froze, the breath being pulled from his lungs. “W-what?” Frankie was hyperventilating on the other end, “W-we were get-getting something fr-from the vending machine and-and-and some guy c-came up and t-took her. I tried to he-help b-but she-she told me to run.” 

Frankie sobbed, even though he couldn’t see her he knew she was pacing the hotel room 

“I-I’m sorry…” 

He had to remain calm, knowing that she would freak out if he did. “Frankie, Frankie, you need to breathe sweetheart. I know you’re scared, but I need you to listen to me. There’s a bar, it’s called the Tri-Tone, you need to go there and find Dwayne Pride.”

She sniffed, “W-Why Dwayne Pride?” “He’s an NCIS Agent, he’s the team leader down there and he can help.” She coughed a little, “O-okay…” He took a breath and glanced back inside, seeing his wife leaning on the wall and watching him carefully. “Frankie, I’ll try to be down there soon. Stay safe and be on alert.” “Y-yes sir.” 

He hung up and ran a hand over his face before turning to go back inside.

His eyes stayed on the floor as he closed the door behind him and leaned on it. “Beau… Honey, is everything okay? Is Y/N okay?” 

The concern in Reagan’s voice grabbed the squad’s attention and they looked over concerned.

“Uh.. She.. She was taken… Y/N and Frankie were getting something from the vending machine.. and–and some guy took her…” Beau looked up and met her eyes, tears filling his, “Someone took her…”

Reagan collapsed, Beau catching her just before she could hit the floor. “No! No! Not her, not our baby girl! Please,” she sobbed, her manicured nails biting at his shoulder as she clung to his shirt.

Beau couldn’t say anything as he held up his wife, trying to be strong for her and not break down in front of the squad.

But it was hard. 

I mean of course it was. 

You, his baby girl, in the hands of some stranger. It was his worst nightmare come to life.

Cold. Damp. Dark. 

Those were the words you would have used to describe the room you were in. The only light on in the room was a yellow bulb swinging in its cage above your head. The chill nipped at your exposed skin, having been stripped of the clothes you were in when you were taken. The room smelled of mildew, and you knew that any water ride you ever went on would remind you of this room.

Your arms were tied above your head, spread in a ‘Y’ to keep you from attempting to free yourself despite being in chains. Your bare feet scraped the rough concrete, your toenail polish being scraped off and leaving red, pink, and white streaks on the floor.

If you had to guess, you’d been there about 12 hours, if not a whole day.

The man that took you had only been in the room one other time and it was to tighten the gag in your mouth. It was a relief that was all, but you had a sinking gut feeling that he had something in store for you.

Your view of the room was awful, you could only see the staircase in front of you, the small window at the top of the wall letting in the moonlight and illuminating the assortment of instruments on the workbench underneath it. If there were worse things behind you, you couldn’t see it. But if what you could see was any indication, there was a reason you were here.

All you could do was pray that Frankie got help and that someone was on their way to save you.

“What do we know?” Dwayne asked as he came in, Beau and Reagan following behind him. “Any updates?” 

Chris and Tammy turned, heads tilted in confusion as to why they were there. But they continued when Pride nodded.

“We were just sent this photo anonymously, Patton’s tracing it now.” Sebastian put the photo on the plasma.

The photo was a newspaper being held by cracked manicured nails but the face in the background was too covered to be enhanced effectively. 

“However, there’s no way to determine-”

“That’s her,” Reagan spoke up, tears gathering in her eyes. “That’s my baby girl…” 

Dwayne looked from her and up to Beau, “Are you sure?” She nodded and held up her own hand, “We got a matching manicure before she left…” Reagan turned and sobbed into Beau’s shoulder.

“She was playing with her brothers when she was young and scraped her left hand on the brick wall, the scar never went away,” Beau added for more confirmation that the hand in the photo did belong to you.

Dwayne nodded, “Then there’s hope, it’s a proof of life photo.” 

All the Admiral could do was nod before holding his wife close and silently cry with her.

It had been 5 days since you had been abducted. 

5 agonizing days.

Beau was a wreck, he was falling apart with worry. With fear. Anything awful that came to Beau’s mind, it’s what they were doing to you. And it wasn’t getting better.

Because they hadn’t heard anything else from your abductor. Patton’s trace led them to a library computer, where they were able to obtain security footage but no one in the film looked suspicious. All the team could do was tell the library staff to keep a lookout for anything or anyone sketchy.

But other than that, they had nothing.

And they were running out of time.

“Please, stop!” You sobbed as the hot knife ran across your skin. 

The past four days have been non-stop pain. Even when you were given a break so your capture could do whatever, you were in pain. 

You felt like you had zero hope of getting out, of ever seeing your family again. You could only think of your dad, how he must feel. That he may never see you again, his only daughter, taken from him.

“No! He has to know the pain! The suffering I went through because of him!” 

Him.

That was all he ever referred to this mystery man as. Never said a name or anything other than ‘him’ or ‘he’.

“Who?! Who are you talking about?” You screamed before a fist collided with your stomach, the slick slap of his fist on your wet, bloody skin making you sick to your stomach. 

Your skin was littered with cuts, all ranging in depths and lengths but none deep enough to be immediately fatal. 

No.

It had to be slow.

Whomever this ‘he’ was had to experience the same pain your capture felt.

The man hit you again, smearing your own blood across your face and bruising your swollen skin. 

You cried out, begging for him to stop and to let you go as he walked away. Your voice was raw and broken, cracking as you desperately pleaded. 

“Let me go! Please! I just wanna go home…”

“My daughter never came home, why should I let his?” 

You blinked, not sure what he meant by that. 

“I’m sorry about your daughter… I am… but why inflict this on someone else? Why take someone else’s daughter away?”

He didn’t answer you and released the tension on your chains, sending you to your knees harshly and reopening the wounds on your knees. 

Grunting, he took long strides back over to you. 

You knew what he was after and you tried to crawl away, scraping your palms on the concrete. But you could only crawl so far and so fast. 

Your entire body throbbed and your blood made the floor slick. Your capture was faster than you were in your weak state. He grabbed your hair, yanked you back and grabbed you by the throat. Your yelp was cut short as he applied pressure, cutting off your air flow.

Weakly, you tried to claw at him, get him to let go, but he wouldn’t. He squeezed until your eyes rolled back and you passed out.

Beau paced the living room of his childhood home, waiting on Pride to arrive.

Dwayne had called, telling him they needed his help identifying a man and that they had a lead, a promising one.

He wasn’t given any other details, but even that was enough to give him some hope. It had been over a week, so this was gold to them.

The normally calm and collected admiral nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door. He raced over and pulled it open, revealing the two agents behind it.

“King, Agent Gregorio,” he greeted, stepping to the side to let them both in. They nodded their thanks to him before they went to the kitchen.

“We’re gonna get right into this, Admiral, you and your wife have waited over a week for something like this,” Tammy said, with sympathy in her voice as she held the evidence bag and a printed photo up. 

Dwayne took the evidence bag, “This was in a book returned to the library early this morning.” He turned it to show the folded up notebook paper, the words, “FROM ONE FATHER TO ANOTHER THIS IS HOW IT FEELS” scrawled sloppily across the page in red ink and what looked to be blood droplets and a bloody fingerprint on the paper. 

“The blood is fresh, as old as this mornin’...” Beau didn’t have to ask, there was no other person whose blood it could be. But he needed the confirmation, no matter how sick it made him feel. “Is-Is it…” Both agents nodded, Tammy speaking, “Sebastian ran the print… it’s Y/N’s. The blood is her’s as well…”

Beau gripped the back of the chair to keep him from falling, Dwayne coming to his side to help him sit down.

“Do-do you know who sent it?” 

Tammy sat the photo down, “We were hoping you might.” He picked up the print and looked at it, recognizing the face instantly. “Yeah, yeah, that’s Everett North… His daughter, Cameron, was under my command a few years ago. She died on a mission.”

They nodded looking at each other, Tammy stepping out to call Chris and tell him to look up Cameron’s name. 

Beau runs a hand down his face, “He blames me for Forest’s death and is taking it out on my daughter…”

Everett sat in a chair, fiddling with a hose waiting for you to wake up. 

You were laying on the freezing floor, the only warmth being the pool of blood you were laying in. You weren’t sleeping so much as laying unconscious, passing out from the previous day's torment. You knew what today held, the same as yesterday. 

That’s what it was, a routine. Torture of all kinds day in and day out. Pain and suffering, that’s all it ever was.

You didn’t want to open your eyes, wake up to another day of this. You were sick, coughing and shivering as the cold basement plus your wet skin plagued you. Your wounds were infected. Your throat was raw from screaming, but Everett managed to pull them from you still. 

And you knew what was in store for you today… but keeping your eyes closed would only delay the inevitable.

You cracked your swollen eyes open, weakly trying to push yourself up. 

“They’re she is,” he gruffed out before getting up and turning the hose on. He puts his thumb over the opening on the hose, spraying you in the face with the freezing water. 

You could only weakly yelp before he was coming over and pulling you to your feet and dragging you to the table on the back wall.

“No, no, no, please, please don’t…” You protest weakly, still trying to fight him. 

“Stop fightin’, you know it's no use,” he said coldly before putting you on the table and strapping you down before running the cold water over your cuts and burns.

You whimpered, squirming to get away despite it being futile. 

He just laughed before covering your face with a towel and soaking it with the hose.

“Everett North, his daughter was Cameron North. Cameron was killed after her plane crashed and she was taken by the enemy. She was held and tortured for two weeks before her body was dumped back at the wreckage for search and rescue to find,” Gregorio started.

Chris was next, “After seeing her at the Tri-Tone and following her to her hotel, North abducted Y/N. She has been with him for a little over a week. But she isn’t trained like military personnel is, she’s only 18 and what Lieutenant North went through was intense and extensive. We don’t know if Y/N can handle it.”

“Okay, do we know where he lives?”

“Sebastian is–”

“I found it! I’ve got his address!” Sebastian shouted as he stood up.

With that the team jumped up and got their gear.

The moment the towel was yanked off your face you started coughing up the water you inhaled, lifting your head so you don’t choke on it again.

Everett started and ended with the same method. That's how you knew your day was over.

He unstrapped you from the table and watched you weakly roll until you fell onto the ground limply.

“Please… just kill me…” 

Your plea was weak as you continued to cough up water. You hated that you had gotten to that point so soon. That you could pull through for just a little longer. But you were in agony, body broken and bloody. You didn’t want your parents to see you like this.

“Oh no no no, your dad has to feel the same pain I felt.”

You look over your shoulder, “M-My dad? What did my dad do to you?” Everett reaches down and grabs your hair, pulling you up to your knees.

“He killed my daughter, I’m only returning the favor,” he hissed, yanking down to put you on your back.

You yelped, your head making contact with the ground. “My dad would never do that!” He kicked you across the face, “Shut up! You don’t know!”

You went to retort but you could hear movement upstairs.

And that’s when you felt your will to live enter your body again. 

“Help! I’m down here, help me!”

You could hear the flurry of footsteps to the basement door and Everett pulled you to your feet.

He held most of your weight and pointed a gun at your neck as the door flew open and agents ran down the stairs.

“Everett North! NCIS put your weapon down!”

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot her!”

Everything suddenly became blurry, the voices around you muddling together. You didn’t know exactly what was happening but you could only assume it was shock or your body finally letting go and relaxing because you had a chance of living.

But before you learned the answer, everything went black as a gunshot rang out.

The first thing you noticed as you woke up was the incessant beeping of a heart monitor. Next was the fact that the lights were off. Then it was the weight of a large, calloused hand in yours.

“D-Daddy?” You rasped out, attempting to squeeze his hand. 

Beau’s head whipped up, “Oh, baby…” “Daddy, I-I’m so sorry,” you nearly sobbed out. “Shhh shh baby girl, no, it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.”

All you could do was nod before you started coughing. 

He was quick to react, getting you a cup of water and offering it for you to take, afraid that if he tried to help he’d send you into a panic.

You take it and sip it carefully before giving it back to him. He grabbed your hand, “I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetheart. I’m so sorry this happened.” You shake your head, “Not your fault… he-he blamed you… but it’s not your fault.”

He smiled gently at you before pushing hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead and you sent him an identical smile. “What matters is that I’m okay… well that I will be okay.” He nodded and kissed your hand, “Yeah, you’re gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

taglist: @valmare @fanboyswhore9 @bradleybeachbabe @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 @horseshoegirl @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @kmc1989 @mayhemmanaged

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 11: Mando’ad

A/N: My kids are at their dad’s this weekend and it dawned on me that I haven’t posted a chapter! My weeks are so busy in the run up to the stupid summer holidays 🤣 got the delight of sports days next week. Oh. Yay.

Mando’a translations:

Aiwha-bait - derogatory term for Kaminoans

Di-kut - equivalent of idiot

Me’sen - ship

Osik - equivalent to shit

Uj’alayi - is like a sticky cake. (Also where Fi gets his nickname uj’ika (little cake as a literal translation) for Stitch.)

Shabuir - motherfucker

Aruetii - non mandalorian, outsider

Warnings: 18+, mentions of experiments, many feelings, probably incorrect interpretation of legend clones, repeat of info we’ve already had but the Batch hasn’t.

Word Count: 5.5k+

Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12

Masterlist

1 month since Setron

“Uh, Tech?” Wrecker looked out of the open ramp, his helmet kicked up to his forehead.

“Yes?”

“You said this was a…town?”

“I distinctly clarified it as a settlement.”

“Don’t look like much,” Wrecker grumbled. Tech walked past the bigger clone, glancing outside and giving the smallest of shrugs under his armour.

“It is what some people might call, a backwater settlement. Which is perfect for us.”

“Tech’s right.” Hunter appeared, checking his vibroblade by drawing it from the vambrace slightly. “It’s remote, away from the Imperial occupation and we can stock up on supplies. We might even blend in.”

Wrecker scrunched up his face. “Doubt I can.”

“Being a Mandalorian is a choice,” Tech called from the cockpit. “Not a race.”

“C’mon Wrecker. Sooner we get supplies and fuel, the sooner we can continue looking for them.”

Them. You and Omega thrown together in one word. It protected Hunter from feeling the slice of agony whenever he said your names. It never dulled, that sharp edge of his guilt.

Hunter had noticed, since Setron, Tech opened up more. He spoke to his brothers about his previous searches rather than hiding away and suffocating in his own loss. Tech now looked at them as fellow sufferers. Hunter knew you had been a blow for the whole squad, but Tech felt it the most. Omega, they all felt on the same level, and Hunter assumed that was Tech’s reasoning as well. He just needed the time to process it all.

Apprehension gripped Hunter’s stomach more than he would ever admit to Wrecker. They left Tech with the ship, letting him work on some systems that had thrown up an error in their last hyperspace run. Mandalore had been the nearest planet they could land safely and discreetly.

The ship was tucked behind a bank of trees, a few klicks north of the settlement, Enceri. They were flanked by a forest and there was a lake nearby, not how they imagined Mandalore at all.

“Feels weird,” Wrecker started, glancing over at Hunter.

“I know,” Hunter breathed. He could feel that telltale crawling sensation at the back of his neck as they approached the muddy road which seemed to be the main throughway. They were being watched.

A market stretched along the well used path, dotted with some shops and a cantina all surrounded by residential buildings. Speeders were parked up or being used to haul items or people.

And everyone was geared up. Armour of all colours, designs, men and women, even children. Some with their helmets covering their faces, others were holding them in a way that Hunter found achingly familiar. All turned to observe the strange newcomers. Hunter kept himself walking, cautiously taking stock of his surroundings, Wrecker large and imposing just one step behind.

He had questioned Tech if this as a good idea, coming to a planet of people that would start a fight if someone looked at them wrong, but they’d had no choice. Supplies were low and this was the nearest, Imperial empty, landing site. Tucked away in the northern hemisphere, they should be able to come and go — hopefully — unnoticed.

Hunter approached the black doors of the cantina, tracking mud into the run down establishment. He noticed the lull in conversations at their entrance. Considering it was a trading post, it didn’t seem like they got many outsiders in these parts. People openly gawked at their armour, eyeing Wrecker’s size with a little trepidation. Some with an open challenge in their glare.

The elderly woman at the bar watched their approach, her eyes narrowed almost to slits. Hunter squared his shoulders and tucked away everything that made him human. Slipping into his soldier persona, his senses tingled when someone entered behind them.

For a beat, the women made no attempt to acknowledge them beyond staring, but when she spoke Hunter wished he had brought Tech. Her scowl deepened the wrinkles on her face, the same words falling from her but in a sharper tone.

“What do we do?” Wrecker whispered via the internal com, easing himself into a position that attempted to block the interaction from the nearest tables.

“Do you know the best place to buy supplies?” Hunter asked the barmaid. He didn’t expect her mouth to twist with mistrust. Her arms crossed and Hunter heard the scrape of a chair on the uneven floor. His fingers flexed, ready to pull his weapons if needed.

He knew a handful of Mando’a due to Echo and you, and he didn’t think calling the barmaid a di’kut would do him any favours. Her wizened gaze slid to the side, asking a rough question to a mandalorian that had appeared beside them. He nodded and replied in kind, holding up a gloved hand showing three fingers. She tutted and breathed a word that sounded like aruetii. Not that Hunter had any idea what that meant.

“Come and sit with me,” the Mandalorian said, jerking his head to highlight an empty table in the corner. “Your size is making people nervous,” he said with a chuckle, clapping Wrecker on the shoulder. The brothers exchanged looks through their helmets, not really having a choice when the stranger pointedly waited at the table for them.

The chair creaked alarmingly under Wrecker’s larger frame, but Hunter’s attention was on the Mandalorian. He had taken off his helmet, revealing messy dark blonde hair and a beard. His eyes roamed over them knowingly, and he seemed utterly at ease. The helmet was placed on the table, his arm spread across the back of the empty chair.

“You’re from Coruscant,” Hunter observed quietly, puzzled by the man before him. His accent was twisted. But the crispness of Corscanti was there still.

“Once.” He nodded and smiled at the barmaid when she dumped three drinks of something black and strong smelling on the table followed by three high sided bowls of food that looked like red soup. Hunter and Wrecker sat their stiffly, not wanting to take their helmets off and reveal their faces. “You’re safe here,” the stranger said dismissively. “Eat.”

“We don’t even know your name,” Wrecker’s voice was low and gravelly, his attempt at talking quietly.

“Call me Bardan. And you are…?” Hunter stared at the cups and bowls. He could see some people still glancing their way, but since Bardan had sat with them, attention had shifted away. Carefully, he slipped his helmet off, placing it on the table.

“I’m Hunter, this is Wrecker,” he explained. Bardan barely looked at Hunter’s face, already eating the soup he’d ordered. “S’good,” he mumbled, pointing at the dishes. “Eat.”

Wrecker followed suit, putting his helmet on the table and dragging a bowl closer to him. “Starvin’,” he mumbled, giving Hunter a sheepish look before tucking in.

Hunter was burning to ask questions, his mouth opened to start when someone else swept into the cantina. Making a beeline straight for their table. He cut an imposing figure in a blue set of armour, waving a hand at the barmaid and then patting Bardan heavily on the shoulder as he sat down. He had no qualms about removing his helmet, revealing a face that Hunter and Wrecker knew all too well.

“Bard’ika,” he said in greeting. “Don’t look so stunned,” the newcomer grinned. “Not seen a face like mine before?”

“You’re a reg,” Hunter observed. Bardan didn’t seem phased by his companion being a clone and it explained his uninterested reaction when Hunter and Wrecker took their helmets off.

“Ouch. A reg huh?” The conversation paused as a new drink and soup were delivered to the table. “I think you’ll find I am no ordinary, reg.” Hunter threw his memory back to Kamino. He knew of the Gen ones, like Rex. ARCs, Commandos… the Batch were slightly younger, trained separately from the bulk of the GAR so they could hone their unique talents. He vaguely recalled a mention of some specialist squads, black ops that worked like his squad had done. “Name’s Mereel.”

Bardan lazily gestured when he introduced them. “Big guy’s Wrecker. This is Hunter.”

“Ah,” Mereel nodded, understanding dawned in his liquid gold gaze. “You’re 99s, I heard you’re as defective as us Nulls. Of course, the Kaminoans designed you that way. We were a mistake.” Hunter pushed his bowl of soup towards Wrecker who took it silently and began to eat it.

“You were trained by the Mandalorians in Kamino?” Mereel took a swig of the black drink before responding to Hunter.

“We were.”

“What are you doing out here?” Wrecker asked.

“Living,” Bardan replied, nursing his own drink. Hunter leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“You are trying to find out why we’re here. We just want supplies and then we’ll be on our way.”

“You’re looking for someone,” Bardan hunched over his ale, noticing the way both the clones tensed at his words.

“What’s it to you?” Wrecker rumbled, clearly on the defence.

“You’re not with the Imperials,” Bardan observed. “You’re clones, yet I feel a sense of urgency from you both.”

“Like I said,” Hunter lowered his tone and stressed each word. “We want supplies and then we will leave.”

“At ease,” Mereel told him. “You’re safe here, as long as you don’t tell anyone else you can’t speak Mando’a,” he let out a rough laugh. “We can give you supplies. Your ship is on our doorstep and Kal’buir wants to meet you anyway.” Something clanged in Hunter’s memory at the word but he couldn’t place it. Not now.

“This feels like a trap,” Wrecker whispered to Hunter, as Bardan and Mereel stood up and gathered their helmets, talking between themselves.

“They know where our ship is. What if they have Tech?” Hunter worried, picking up his own helmet. “We need to see this through.” Wrecker blew out a breath, clearly unhappy but like Hunter, he couldn’t see another option either.

Mereel and Bardan walked with them back to the ship. Occasionally Mereel would ask a question, easily drawing out a laugh from Wrecker with his easy smiles and personable approach. Hunter stayed wary. He wanted to see Tech was unharmed before he even considered trusting these people. Even if they were clones.

By the time the Marauder materialised through the trees, Hunter could feel the tension in every line of his body. He didn’t wait, charging up the still open ramp only to find Tech beneath a console in the cockpit. Wires hung down, his gloved hands twisting them, not acknowledging Hunter at all.

“Tech.” He was relieved to see his brother unharmed and seemingly oblivious to everything around him except the ship.

“I am fixing the sensor array wiring,” Tech answered as if that explained anything. “Was the supply run successful?”

“We have company.” Now Tech peered at him through the dangling wires.

“Who?”

“Someone called Bardan and a clone called Mereel.” Hunter watched him slide out from under the console, sitting up to rest his elbows on his cocked knees.

“What are their intentions?”

“Unknown,” Hunter replied gravely. “We landed on their doorstep, apparently.” Tech was up and tapping on the ships controls, referring to his datapad.

“I conducted a comprehensive scan of the area and not a single residence was registered within the immediate vicinity.”

“It wouldn’t be.” Both the clones turned to face Mereel who had boarded silently. His eyes travelling over the Marauder, letting out a soft, appreciative whistle. “We have taken great pains to hide Kyrimorut.”

“Kyrimorut?” Hunter questioned.

“Literally translated it means end haven,” Tech supplied, adjusting his goggles.

“We call it home,” Mereel said. “Keeps us safe, away from that shabuir, who calls himself Emperor.” He turned, leaning against the door hatch. “Modified Omicron Class shuttle…you’ve got some serious weaponry on this me’sen. Seen plenty of action, judging by the marks and dents on the hull.” Tech almost visibly bristled at Mereel’s observation.

“We have not remained in one location a sufficient amount of time, to complete any cosmetic repairs.”

“Yeah. I know what that’s like.” A sharp whistle sounded from outside and Mereel grinned at them over his shoulder. “Buir is here.”

“Buir,” Tech muttered. “Means father.”

“How do they have a father?” Hunter frowned.

“I theorise, they address him as Buir, akin to how Stitch referred to Jango Fett. Mandalorians adhere to a creed where loyalty holds a greater significance than blood ties. This leads me to conclude it is plausible they adopt more than we realise.” They descended the ramp where Wrecker waited at the bottom, his helmet kicked up but watching the strange group with suspicion.

Two other armour clad Mandalorians as well as a cart full of fuel and supplies had arrived. One was a clone that was talking to Mereel and Bardan, the other was an older man. His brown hair was starting to grey, but his blue eyes were sharp and didn’t seem to miss a thing. He smiled at Tech and Hunter, limping a little when he came forward with a hand outstretched.

“Kal. Skirata. Bard’ika commed ahead and told us you needed supplies.”

Hunter took his offered arm and they clasped each other’s forearms. Tech seemed a little perplexed, but then no one had asked to greet him in such a way before. It felt unnatural, so he flexed and shook his hand after the contact. He didn’t like that way of greeting.

“Why are you helping us?” Hunter asked.

Kal cast his gaze through the trees. “Wouldn’t be much of a clone saviour if I didn’t at least fill your ship with food before you disappear.” Bardan came to stand next to him with Mereel and the other clone. “Kyrimorut is a refuge I built for clones after the war. I adopted this lot,” Kal gestured to the two clones beside him and they smiled identical smiles. “And plenty more. Some still in enemy hands.” He took a breath as though such a thought pained him greatly. “Bard’ika informed me you’re looking for someone.” Tech shoved past Hunter drawing the groups attention.

“Two people actually. One is an adult female and the other an adolescent female. We believe they are both being held by an Imperial scientist known as Hemlock.” Kal’s expression darkened at Tech’s words.

“I know of him. Disgusting human,” the man spat with vitriol. “If you’re seeking him though, you won’t get far. We even have someone on the inside and we still can’t pinpoint exactly where the base is.” Tech sucked in a deep breath, tapping on his bottom lip as he thought for a moment.

“Are you able to converse with your contact?”

Kal stepped aside, gesturing to the new clone. “Jaing, this is your playground.”

“Let me show you what we have.” Tech gave a curt nod, his expression was serious but there was a light of excitement in his gaze as he led Jaing into the ship.

“I’ll refuel the ship,” Wrecker offered.

“Need a hand?” Mereel moved the cart closer to the side of the ship at Wrecker’s nod.

Hunter turned his attention to the man they referred to as Bard’ika. He knew that was a term of affection, it was one of the few things he did know about the language. But something about Bardan made his senses take notice. It rolled over his skin, leaving a wake of tiny hairs on end and it was a sensation he recognised from you.

“You’re a Jedi.” Bardan grimaced when Hunter spoke.

“I used to be. I’ve moved away from that now, for obvious reasons.”

“More Mando’ad than anything. Ain’t ya son?” Kal draped an arm over Bardan’s shoulders and tousled his hair with a smirk. “Nothing gets past you, does it Sergeant?”

“Not anymore. Not since the war.”

“What a horrible time that was,” Kal sighed. “Still, I have to be grateful or I wouldn’t have my sons. None of them.” He became solemn, fixing Hunter with an intense stare. “You ever find who you’re looking for, you can come straight back here. I know you won’t settle before that, not when a youngling is missing. But there’s always room here for more.”

“That’s quite an offer,” Hunter said, not wanting to give a definite answer.

“Yeah, and here’s another,” Kal held out a hand with a data chip.

“What’s this?”

“Bank account. For your squad. It’s untraceable, Jaing worked his magic. Regular payments will be made into it for as long as you need.” Hunter took the chip, unable to see a way of saying no. First thing he’d do would be to hand it to Tech and verify it was just a data chip.

“Uh, thanks.” He still felt on edge, not really understanding why all of them were offering so much after meeting them once. But then, the squad had instantly taken you in as soon as you tried to shock Tech back at the slavers compound.

“The woman you’re looking for,” Kal said slowly. “Who is she?”

“Our medic,” came Hunter’s short reply. The less they knew about you the better.

“Always important,” Kal mumbled, exchanging a quick, knowing glance with Bardan. “Jaing will probably spend hours bringing your brother up to speed.”

“Tech,” Hunter supplied.

“Tech. Suits him.”

“They’re all fuelled and loaded up, Kal’buir.” Mereel pushed a now empty cart. “I see Besnay gave them a whole uj’alayi.” He pouted slightly.

“It’s good too!” Hunter turned to see Wrecker standing in the hatch, already eating something that looked like a cake.

“She’s a good one. Ordo’s wife has taken to a mandalorian kitchen like she was born to it,” Kal enthused.

“Gave Wrecker some explosives to add to his collection,” Mereel continued, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the ship. “He’s got enough in there to make even Darman jealous.” Kal’s expression became strained, humming in agreement so he didn’t have to form words.

“Hunter!” Tech’s cry from within the ship spurred him to react quickly, bursting into the hold and coming to an abrupt stop. Jaing was sat at the console, Tech was holding his datapad but his attention was fixed on the screen.

“What is it?” Then he looked at the screen, suck in a breath at the sight.

“We had contact with Niner a rotation ago, until he went dark.” Jaing’s jaw flexed. “I have managed to download a few moments from Niner’s HUD the rotation before and found this,” Jaing explained.

“Tha’…that’s Stitch!” Wrecker gasped, the cake forgotten in his hand.

The picture was a frozen break in time. Your hands were bound, sat at a table in a room that had barely anything in. Your eyes were closed with blood streaking down your face, running into your mouth. Hemlock stood beside you, an openly sinister, gleeful expression lit up his face.

“What is that?” Hunter asked, referring to the device that hovered above the table, seemingly in pieces before you.

“That is a holocron.” Bardan had followed, looking over Hunter’s shoulder with a passive expression. “Kal’buir, he’s opening holocrons.”

“Osik,” the older man muttered. “Nothing doing right now,” he gruffly said but clearly not happy. “That’s not our business.”

“I don’t recognise her,” Bardan said more to himself than anyone else. “She looks familiar though…is she a Jedi?” Jaing pressed some buttons and brought up files that had classified scrawled across them.

“She was never at the temple, Bard’ika. She was…raised by Jango Fett?” Jaing spun round to catch Kal’s eye. The latter sighed, leaning forward to squint at the screen. “Says here she’s…well I’ll be damned!” Jaing pointed to another file. “This is part of the information I skimmed from Kamino since, well since I was old enough to do it.”

“You were in the barrels of their databanks by the time you looked 4, son.” Kal gave a snort of amusement.

“We weren’t the first clones.” Jaing shook his head in disbelief. “They attempted cloning a Jedi first.” Bardan stiffened.

“What?” Hunter demanded coldly.

“Says here, in layman’s terms, Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas offered his DNA to see if the aiwha-bait could make more Jedi. Every attempt failed, none survived except one. Designation JC-005.” Jaing took a deep breath. “This was erased from the Kaminoan files, after she was smuggled from Kamino by Sifo-Dyas himself.” He scrolled through the file. “The report implies she had a midi-chlorian count, with an estimated end count of around 9,000.” Hunter was reeling from the news that you were a clone. The clone of a Jedi. Jaing continued in his narration. “I can’t tell if Hemlock has this information but he,” here Jaing swallowed and glanced up at Tech who had been still as a statue this whole time. “He’s been experimenting on her.”

“What do you mean?” Hunter demanded. “How?” His insides were rolling. You were alive. And you were being used. He felt sick, what if Hemlock was experimenting on Omega too? He had to get you both out of there.

“It will take time to crack into those files,” Jaing explained. “They’re locked down tight.”

“How do you still not have a location for this base?” Hunter’s words were sharp but none of the men around him flinched. If anything they all carried depressive weights of their own at this news, haunted by unseen shadows none of them could shake.

“Hemlock has implemented extensive measures to conceal the whereabouts of his base,” Tech spoke up. Clearing his throat before his spoke again. “It appears the location is promptly erased from a ship’s navigational system.”

“Can’t you track it through Niner’s signal?” Tech shook his head at Hunter’s question.

“The signal to Niner’s HUD is being deliberately dispersed throughout the system in an attempt to obscure the destination point, and encryption from the HUD further distorts the origin point.”

“So they’re nearby?” Hunter asked.

“We believe so,” Mereel answered. “Just because this narrows it down to a single system, doesn’t mean it will be easy to find.”

“I can give you a copy of everything I have,” Jaing offered, addressing Tech with a softness to his expression that Hunter hadn’t seen before. Tech gave a curt nod, handing over his datapad. He didn’t look at anyone, moving around them until his steps descended the ramp and faded into the trees that surrounded the ship. Hunter’s chest expanded, torn between wanting to question everyone here until they gave him some solid intel and following Tech.

“I’ll go,” Wrecker whispered, disappearing outside.

Hunter fixed Jaing with a glare. “I want to know everything you know. You’re still withholding things from us.” The Null grinned but it wasn’t in amusement.

“Take a seat, sarge, because we’ve seen your youngling. And your medic.”

Tech had no idea how long he walked for. His feet wouldn’t stop. There was an urgency inside him, almost like a vibration that resonated through his entire body. He had to move.

He knew you were unique. He should have seen the signs, the obvious intelligence you possessed, your apparent natural born skill with healing and how quickly you absorbed information, utilising it immediately. Your extraordinary resilience, he had put it all down to being half raised by Jango Fett. He had failed you. Failed to see beyond your midi-chlorian count, not looking deeply enough into why the Empire wanted you.

The holocron opening before you meant something. You weren’t a Jedi, or an obvious force user. His mind was leaping to wild assumptions such as; Hemlock could have secured someone who was able to teach you. Jedi abilities grew over time, nurtured from a young age, a step that had been missed with you. Maybe his experiments on you enhanced it all, somehow?

With a quiet shake of his head, Tech rubbed a spot on his chest plate. Not that it eased the breathless ache which resided there, every hour in every rotation. A constant burning reminder of his loss, of missing you.

Trees passed him, the lake would normally have held his attention but right now, he barely saw it. The world blended into a blur which made him blink rapidly. It wasn’t until there was no change that he realised, he was cause of such distortion.

He shifted his goggles, moving them to rest on his forehead so he could press fingertips to his cheeks. They came away wet. Tech wasn’t one for crying. He didn’t think he’d done it since he was a young cadet back on Kamino.

They were raised tough, as soldiers, emotion never came into it. They were never taught how to manage it or even acknowledge it. Tech had always prided himself on his sense of detachment, he had seen how intense emotions could skew the mind, even his brothers had been prone to it.

But now, he couldn’t escape. Tech fell into a crouch, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It did nothing to ease the burn, or stop the hitch in his throat when he tried to take a breath. He felt so raw and open in this moment, unable to quell the rush now the barriers had been lifted. Sobs beat his chest like rapid thunderclaps. The image of you with blood on your face, sores on your wrists and the hungry, devouring way Hemlock looked at you, would not leave the darkness behind his hands.

All of it choked him, folding Tech in on himself until he couldn’t find a way out of the mess. He was unaware of his surroundings, not hearing Wrecker approach from behind.

Strong arms wrapped around Tech and Wrecker squeezed. The big clone dropped to sit on the floor, leaning back against a tree and gathering Tech to him. It distressed Wrecker to see his brother suffering so deeply, so openly. So he did the only thing he could think of.

Tech didn’t fight, grateful to lean back into Wrecker and use him as a grounding technique. It took him back to a moment when they were small boys, trapped in an exercise where they were exposed to live ordnance for the first time.

Crosshair had faced it with a snarl, supporting Hunter who struggled with the noise and pressure. Wrecker had sheltered all his brothers, apparently fearless in the face of the heat waves that rolled over them. Tech had succumbed to panic, overwhelmed from everything happening at once. The noises disorientated him, the lights hurt his eyes and the feel of it all made him want to scratch his skin off.

Wrecker had carried him for most of the exercise and it was in that moment, Tech decided he wasn’t going to be a burden. He knew he was different to his brothers, with how he experienced the world, and he worked to not let it hinder him or them.

“She’s alive,” Wrecker breathed when Tech calmed down. His arms were looser, but he still caged Tech against him. “At least we know they are together. And Crosshair.”

The sun was beginning to lower, a chill from the ground was starting to seep through their armour, so Tech tapped Wrecker’s vambrace. The human cage fell away and Tech felt the emptiness that hollowed him out. He wouldn’t be complete until you were back with them.

“We should return.”

“I think Hunter is grilling ‘em.”

“They do not know the location,” Tech told him as they both stood, brushing off twigs and leaves that had attached to them. “If Jaing cannot crack the encryption, I shall also have no success.” Wrecker looked downcast, always wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Stitch and Omega, they’re tough.” It sounded almost like a plea, he was desperate for his own reassurance and Tech saw that for once. He agreed, you were strong, having faced so much adversity through your entire life, Tech had no doubts you were surviving this ordeal too. Then his thoughts switched gears.

“Hemlock said he wanted Omega to help Nala Se…” Wrecker moved a branch aside and waited for Tech to pass. “What if he is using Omega to keep Nala Se complacent.”

“What you gettin’ at?”

“Why retain the head scientist,” Tech muttered to himself. “And the clones.” Wrecker didn’t ask another question, letting his brother think and taking it upon himself to clear the way for Tech through the foliage. “It stands to reason, Nala Se may not be there by choice.”

“She’s a prisoner too?”

“Hemlock is unable to advance his experiments, without her expertise. The Empire destroyed Kamino but they extracted everything from it beforehand.” Tech waved a finger and Wrecker lunged to push a thick branch out of the way before Tech walked into it. “The cloning programme would be too valuable to eradicate. He must be using Nala Se’s research. That is how he was able to erase the clone on Coruscant, of his designation and enhance the inhibitor chip.”

The Marauder came back into view. Hunter sat on the steps, playing with his vibroblade while he waited for Tech and Wrecker to return.

“It is highly probable, Hemlock is aware of Stitch being a clone.” Every one of Tech’s words were laden with a despondency.

“Do you think this, Doctor is making more clones?” Wrecker asked hesitantly, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand.

“It is a possibility we simply cannot ignore.” Tech replied grimly.

“Our main objective is getting our squad members out of there,” Hunter said, catching his blade with a flick of his fingers, twirling it round and sliding it home into the vambrace. “Wherever there, is.”

“Where are the others? Did they tell you anythin’ else?” Wrecker asked, peering into the ship.

“They headed back after telling me everything they knew.” Hunter was brooding, staring off into the distance.

“Anything we need to know?” Tech asked, scrutinising Hunter’s reaction.

“We can go through it later,” he finally said, fixing his honeyed gaze on Tech, the frown easing. “All right?”

“I do not think I can appropriately articulate…” Tech started to explain when Gonky appeared in the hatch, garbling his beeps in excitement. Tech stepped past Hunter to the droid and gently ushered him backwards. “Gonky is saying we have received a transmission.”

“Is it Rex or Echo?” Wrecker almost sounded excited as he charged up the ramp with Hunter.

Tech settled in the pilot’s chair, pressing buttons on the control panel and bringing up an encrypted message on the console.

“Well?” Hunter prompted, his mistrust evident.

Tech regarded the message for a second. “I can decode it. The message is written using a method I am familiar with.” It felt like it took forever for the message to be translated, when really it only took Tech a few minutes to reveal the message in its entirety.

“Wha’ does…wha’ does it mean?” Wrecker stressed, gesturing at the screen.

“Is this real?” Hunter leaned on the back of Tech’s chair, his eyes fixed on the message.

“I believe it is.”

“Can someone explain!” Wrecker moaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s Omega,” Hunter said to him. A slow smile began to work across his face. “She made it out. She’s sent us coordinates for a rendezvous.”

“Omega?” Wrecker’s eyes widened as he processed the news and then let out a laugh of relief. “She escaped!”

“It looks like it.” Hunter hesitated before allowing himself to show such relief.

“Wait…wha’ if it’s a trap?” Wrecker suddenly said.

“Unless Omega divulged a particular set of coordinates from our time near Ryloth to the Imperials, I do not believe so,” Tech explained, bringing up the details of Ryloth’s third moon. “I suggest we leave immediately.”

“Yes!” Wrecker cried out, excitement making him loud and he thumped Hunter on the back. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Tech felt pressure on his shoulder, quickly glancing at Hunter’s hand.

“She would not leave Stitch behind,” Hunter murmured. “If she did, for whatever reason, Omega will have a way back to her.” He felt guilty for keeping the intel he had to himself. Jaing had shown him some footage from Niner’s HUD, of you, Omega and Crosshair discussing an escape. Hunter was conflicted, but no one saw the outcome because Niner switched off the feed when he removed his helmet. Omega had made it out and Hunter hoped you were with her at least.

Tech tried to conjure up a smile but he didn’t have it in him. “I always strive for the most optimistic outcome,” he finally said.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” chanted Wrecker. Practically throwing himself into the copilot’s chair, flicking switches on the systems that needed priming. “I can’t wait to see her safe and sound and back with us.”

Wrecker and Hunter’s words melted into back ground noise for Tech. He concentrated on lifting the ship off the ground, triangulating the trajectory easily so they could launch into hyperspace as soon as they breached the atmosphere.

He was proud of Omega for getting out, impressed with her lack of detail in the message incase it was intercepted, he couldn’t fault her deliverance at all. Her choice of RP was also excellent. Yet, his stomach felt sick. He wanted to know if you were with her. And Crosshair.

He needed his family back together.

It was the end goal, the final mission. And it all sounded far too good to be true.