#outpost chatter

[outpost51]

Desperately need to overhaul blinding neon, I wanna get back into it. Anybody wanna be brainstorm buddies? hmu for my discord if you don’t have it tumblr dm is trash

[outpost51]

I’ve always seen it as supernatural dealing more with matters of the soul, the afterlife, etc that are beyond human understanding whereas paranormal is just that — adjacent to normal. This is oversimplified for brevity’s (and spoons) sake, but that’s it for me! The two tend to be used interchangeably though, and I prefer using “paranormal” for my romances despite incorporating elements of both.

What, in your opinion, is the difference between paranormal fiction and supernatural fiction and which genre do you prefer?

🔪🩸👻 🧛‍♀️👽

I've been looking for a good way to define the differences in the genres but I can't find a good example online, so I thought I'd ask my writeblr friends since y'all are into this stuff like I am! Please lemme know what you think makes these genres different and why you like a specific one, please! 😊❤️

[callmegaith]

Updated my G-man according to feedback

Drew Otis for a request too c:

And made my own Resistance oc

You can call him Pete. He's stationed in an outpost that Gordon never passed, in fact all he knows about Gordon is from over the radio and Resistance members chatter. He has a Walkman that is his most prized possession and keeps him sane in these hard times. Not sure what I Wanna do with him yet I just really wanted to draw some Resistance members lol.

[nahoney22]

Hello there!

Congratulations on 4,500 followers!

May I request a NSFW prompt 30: come closer and keep me warm or something like with F! Reader x Mayday, please?

He needs more love!

Warmth in the Night*** 🌊

🫧 pairings: Commander Mayday X Female!Reader

word count: 1.9k

prompts:

• “Come here and keep me warm.”

plot: Trapped with nothing but a lousy flickering fusion lantern to keep you both warm, yourself and Mayday decide to take advantage of this time alone.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Established relationship, cuddling (amongst other things) for warmth, kissing, consensual sex, p in v sex, cock warming, dirty talk, explicit sexual content language, praising, fingering, trapped in a snow storm.

authors note: im so sorry for the wait @ladypunz and I apologise it’s short! But you’re right, he does deserve some love!

“Do you think it’ll hold?” you ask, your voice trembling as much from the cold as the worry gnawing at you. Together, yourself and Mayday had managed to barricade the rickety door of the abandoned shack you’d stumbled upon, but the raging blizzard outside wasn’t letting up.

Mayday steps back, eyeing the door with his hands on his hips. “Should do,” he says, his tone calm but a little cautious. “And if not… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

You try to laugh, but the bitter cold seeps into every part of you, stealing the sound before it can form. Stars, the bitter breeze stabs at your skin like little needles.

Pushing aside your discomfort, you move to help him gather whatever scraps of blankets and fabric you can find and then drape them around a fusion lantern. It was the only thing providing little warm but its light flickers weakly, threatening to go out at any moment. The thought of it completely shutting down makes you nervous which doesn’t go unnoticed by Mayday.

Setting his helmet on a cracked, uneven table, he steps closer, his gloved hand brushing against your frosty cheek. His touch was warm despite the frigid air.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’ll get through this. We’ll rest tonight, and by morning, the storm will have passed. Then we’ll make our way to the rendezvous point.”

You lean into his touch, seeking out the comfort it offers, and before you know it, your arms are around his waist, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you knitted to warmth and safety. “At least I’m with you,” you say softly.

His lips curve into a fond smile as he wraps his arms around you, his hands rubbing gently up and down your back in an effort to warm you. “Likewise.”

You were both meant to be delivering supplies to an outpost but were caught off guard by the sudden storm and luckily, you and Mayday had been together for a while now. He liked to tease that you fell for him first, and while that wasn’t entirely untrue, it didn’t mean he didn’t fall harder. He was everything you wanted in a relationship and you were glad he was so calm in a rather precarious situation.

“How are we on rations?” you ask after a moment, sitting down on the pile of tattered blankets whilst he pushes a broken table against the door just for a little extra reinforcement.

He grabs his pack, rummages around, and pulls out two ration bars, offering a wry smile as he hands you one. “At least it’s the flavor you like.”

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a half-smile, taking the bar and nibbling on it. If you were going to be stuck here, you wanted it to last.

Once the makeshift barricades are as secure as they’ll get, Mayday settles in beside you, the two of you huddling under the pile of blankets. The only light comes from the pathetic sputtering lantern, and the majority of warmth from each other. Despite your best efforts, your teeth chatter relentlessly.

Mayday drapes an arm over you, pulling you closer until your back is tucked against his chest. “Come here,” he says, his voice low and soft. “Keep me warm.”

You don’t hesitate, nestling into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His warmth envelops you, a small reprieve from the biting cold.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the back of your head.

“A little bit,” you admit, your breath shaky, though you can’t deny how much this was helping.

Night falls swiftly, the wind still screaming against your shelter. “I hope this storm ends soon,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the howl of the wind.

“Me too,” Mayday replies, his arms tightening around you. “But at least the company’s good, right?”

You smile despite everything, catching the teasing lilt in his voice. “It’s perfect,”

“You know,” Mayday murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his fingers trace gentle patterns across your stomach, “it’s been a while since we’ve had some time alone.”

Your eyes, which had been closed in contentment, flutter open. A playful smirk spreads across your lips as you tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze. “You’re right,” you say softly, your voice holding a hint of mischief. “It has been a while.”

Mayday’s answering smirk is wicked, a flicker of heat sparking in his inviting eyes. He leans down, capturing your lips with his, the kiss starting soft but quickly deepening into something more needy.

A gasp escapes you as his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You turn fully to face him, your fingers threading through the textured strands of his long hair, tugging gently. The sensation draws a low groan from his throat, his lips parting against yours as your tongue slips into his mouth.

The kiss turns hungrier, more demanding, as his hands begin to wander. One gloved hand peels away, and when his now-bare palm glides over your skin, the chill of his touch makes you gasp again.

His lips curve into a smirk against yours, and his free hand slips lower, exploring with deliberate slowness until it finds the waistband of your pants. He pauses for just a moment, enough to let anticipation coil tightly in your chest, before sliding his hand inside.

You tremble under his touch, his fingers brushing against your folds. The coldness of his skin sends shivers across your body, but it only heightens the heat rapidly building between you.

“Already wet for me?” he murmurs darkly, his lips brushing against yours. His thumb circles your clit with an intense and measured pace, and he bites down lightly on your lower lip. “You needy girl.”

A whimper escapes you, your body arching into his hand as waves of pleasure roll through you. “C-can’t help it,” you stammer, your voice breathless. “You’ve been neglecting me.”

A low groan rumbles deep in his chest, his mouth moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath is warm against you, a stark contrast to the icy air around you.

“Let me fix that.”

His fingers move with purpose now, sliding against you with expert precision. Every flick of his thumb, every stroke of his hand, draws soft gasps and moans from your lips. The storm outside is forgotten, the cold replaced by the searing heat of his touch.

“Mayday, shit… don’t stop,” you plead, your voice trembling as you clutch his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his under-armor.

He grins, a low, knowing chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tugs your pants down just enough to give his hand the space it needs. His fingers slide against you, then press inside, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. The sound makes his grin widen. “You feel so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice rough and reverent. “So perfect.”

Your hips buck instinctively against his hand, desperate for more. A string of curses falls from your lips as he adds another finger, spreading you open with a skilled, deliberate rhythm. His lips find your neck again, trailing hot, searing kisses along your skin that make you shudder beneath him.

“Stars, I’m g-gonna—” you stammer, the words caught in your throat as the pressure inside you builds to a dizzying peak after a measly few minutes.

“Yes, you are,” he growls, his voice laced with hungry satisfaction. His lips leave your neck, his gaze locking onto yours as he watches you unravel. Your eyes roll back, your body arching as pleasure crashes over you in an uncontrollable wave.

You come undone, trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. “Yes, you fucking are,” he says, his voice thick with pride, his fingers slowing but never stopping, coaxing every last ounce of bliss from you.

Stars blurred your vision, your body trembling as waves of you come down from your high. You felt drunk on his touch, the aftershocks of your climax leaving you breathless and spent. Sweat glistened on your brow, your legs shaking as you tried to steady yourself.

“That’s it,” Mayday murmured in your ear, his voice low and soothing. He withdrew his fingers carefully, his touch lingering for just a moment before he lifted his hand into the faint glow of the lantern. Slick with your arousal, his fingers shimmered in the dim light.

You closed your eyes briefly, letting the moment sink in, before looking up at him with a lazy, somewhat goofy smile. “I think it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

His lips form into a smirk, and without hesitation, he leaned down to kiss you, his mouth claiming yours with renewed desperation. As his tongue brushed against yours, your hands found their way to the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the latch. Mayday chuckled against your lips, helping you shove them down before kicking them off entirely.

Your breath hitched as his cock sprang free, thick and swollen with need. He gripped it lightly, stroking himself with deliberate slowness.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight, and an idea formed in your mind. You slipped your pants completely off and shifted closer, your hand wrapping around his length. He gasped at the initial contact, your touch cold against his heated skin, but the sound quickly melted into a groan as you aligned him with your entrance.

With a gentle roll of your hips, you guided him inside, both of you sighing as he stretched you open and settled deep within. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and he let out a sinful groan, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he buried his face in your chest.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he rasped needily, “You feel amazing.”

You bit your lip, your walls fluttering around him, clinging to every inch of him as he throbbed inside you. A teasing smile played on your lips as you whispered, “You like this, Commander? You like being in my pussy?”

“I love it,” he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin and knowing full well that you calling him Commander gets him all hot and bothered. One of your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as you shifted your hips experimentally.

But before you could start moving in earnest, his grip on you tightened. “Stop. Stop,” he panted, his tone commanding yet soft.

You froze, concern flickering in your eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice ragged. Pulling back slightly, he cupped your face with both hands, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re keeping my cock so nice and warm.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but then a playful smile tugged at your lips. “Using me as a cockwarmer, are you?”

“Yes, baby,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’re so damn warm, and it feels so good. Just… let me stay like this for a while.”

Your smile softened, and you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his once more. “Anything you want.”

Settling against his chest, you let your body relax, your arms wrapping around him as his cock remained snugly sheathed inside you. He pulled the covers over the two of you, cocooning you both in warmth.

The storm outside howled, but for the first time in hours, you felt nothing but comfort. You didn’t know how long this moment would last, but for now, you hoped the storm wouldn’t let up anytime soon…

Please consider reblogging to support your fellow writers and artists 🩵

Masterlist is pinned 🩵

Tags: @lulalovez @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tentakelspektakel @stellarbit @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo o @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @imalovernotahater @sithstrings s @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblinfeet @photogirl894

[lady-phasma]

To Serve

Feyd Rautha x Fremen!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, rough foreplay, biting, no penetration, masochism, strange power dynamics, completely ridiculous premise that Feyd would even notice a Fremen servant, I don’t know - it’s fanfiction so let’s suspend disbelief together

Summary: You are a Fremen working in the Arrakeen palace after House Harkonnen has retaken Arrakis, watching and studying the Planetary Governor. 2k words (no beta because I was in a hurry to get this out of my head)

You were actually grateful to be allowed to continue to serve in the Arrakeen palace. When House Atreides had been slaughtered, so had most of the servants. The Harkonnen kept some of the Fremen to do menial labor. You spent your days much as you had when Duke Leto and his family resided here. You cleaned floors, helped in the kitchens from time to time, and occasionally cleaned the personal chambers of the Planetary Governor.

As the Harkonnens struggled to retaliate against the guerrilla Fremen and Muad’Dib you kept your head down, listening, never drawing attention to yourself. You had received instructions from your home sietch to observe and not act. However, you had promised yourself you would take advantage of the right opportunity.

Weeks passed with the na-Baron at the helm of the sadistic assaults on sietchs and Fremen outposts. Your anger grew, but so did your caution. At night you lay awake replaying the routines of the Harkonnen, as well as his peculiar desires. You only saw these from a distance but you listened to chatter among the palace staff, appalled at times, curious at others.

You were assigned to replace the person who regularly cleaned the na-Baron’s chambers, perhaps for an extended time. You were only allowed in when the room was empty. The Harpies spent much of their day in repose, eating, sleeping, always waiting on Feyd Rautha. There were occasions when he demanded their company elsewhere and you were then permitted entrance. The only task that was particularly unpleasant and unusual compared to the rest of the palace was cleaning their “nest.” The pile of pillows and fabric were never filthy but often stained and you did not envy the poor souls who had to launder them.

At least twice in the first week, the na-Baron himself had been leaving the room as you were lead down the hall by a guard. You had not seen him up close before, not this close. His pale skin looked as cold as the palace walls, but his eyes were bright and constantly assessing everything and everyone around him. He looked at you the first time you passed, deemed you unimportant, and looked away. The second time you crossed paths he didn’t look at you at all.

You had no plan, you were no assassin. You simply wanted to hurt him. Nothing you could do would stop the war or persuade the Harkonnens to call a truce. You weren’t ignorant. You just wanted him to feel some of what you felt. If he could feel similar emotions. You weren’t sure about that, but every living creature could feel pain.

You were always on guard in the palace unless you were in your bed. When you performed your duties you heard every footstep, every door opening or closing within your vicinity. These footsteps were so quiet that you hadn’t known anyone had walked in until you heard him speak. Your mouth went dry and your mind raced.

“Out,” Feyd commanded. You looked over your shoulder at him, turned, bowed your head slightly, then an impulse came over you.

“Lord na-Baron,” you spoke evenly, but quietly. “I was waiting for you. I was instructed to tend to you personally.”

He looked perplexed but still annoyed. He appraised you, looking into your blue eyes as you raised your head. He let out a derisive snort of laughter.

“What use could I have for a Fremen?”

“Well,” you swallowed, feigning embarrassment. “I was told, my Lord, you had certain appetites and I was required to be at your service. That you were…” You flashed your blue eyes at him. “Curious.”

Feyd licked his lips. You had no idea from his expression if he believed your lie. The way he raked his gaze over you, from head to foot, implied that it didn’t matter.

“Curious,” he mused, almost to himself. “Quite.”

You tried not to flinch as he stepped closer. You faced him, appearing less nervous than you actually were. He was a man rumored to have many odd desires from what you had learned. Perhaps your impulse was correct, perhaps he had never had a Fremen before. Hopefully you had used that to your advantage and not to his.

When he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand you nearly pulled away. His hand was surprisingly warm and the touch seemed deceptively gentle. You stared brazenly into his eyes, trying to decide your next move. You decided to try something you thought few people ever dared.

You grabbed Feyd’s wrist and held it away from your face. The look of surprise and dismay that appeared on his face was incredibly satisfying. You let yourself smile just a little at this, then quickly set your mouth into an impassive line as you let go of his wrist. You thought he brought his hand back to slap you but he merely dropped it to his side. His brows were furrowed and he looked as confused as he was impressed.

Feyd stepped forward so quickly that you could barely see him do it. His hand grasped your neck and held you still as he drew his face close to yours. He looked down at you, contemplating, eyes darting back and forth between yours. He leaned in as if to kiss you.

“Do you think I can’t break you?” He hissed. You narrowed your eyes, not hiding your defiance.

“I think you will want to try,” you whispered. “I think you will fail.” His hand loosened for an instant and you used his moment of shock to force your mouth on his. It was a rough crashing together of mouths but Feyd did not falter or pull back. He met your mouth, your ferocity, with his own. His hand was no longer on your neck but gripping your shoulder. You pushed your hands againsthis chest but found that, instead of pushing him away, you gripped the fabric of his shirt in your fists. A flickering heat pulsed in your belly and your chest was tight. This was not in your plans.

He pulled his head back and grinned. His black teeth were fearsome this close. Yet they didn’t frighten you exactly. You reached up and held his chin as you kissed him again, licking his teeth, finding his tongue. You wanted to hurt him but something had begun to mingle with that feeling, a different kind of want. He growled into your mouth and grabbed your hair at the back of your head. You let your hand fall from his face as he pulled your head back. He licked your throat, your jaw, scraping his teeth against your skin as he went.

In a nearly painful movement, Feyd turned you both to move toward the bed. What had begun as an impulse was now becoming a reality. You warred with yourself as he walked you backward, releasing your hair and sucking hungrily at your lips. You needed to make a decision and quickly. You slid your hands to the back of his head and caught his bottom lip in your teeth. If you were going to do this it would be on your terms. You didn’t bite him hard enough to draw blood. It was hard enough to make him push you against the bed. When you let him go he was grinning.

“If all Fremen are like this, I have missed many opportunities,” he sneered. The instinct to slap him was overridden by the feeling of his erection pressing into your lower belly. You slowly moved one hand from his neck, down his torso, and stroked him through the fabric of his pants. His sneer faded as his eyes almost closed.

Feyd didn’t push you onto the bed as you thought he might, but guided you by the shoulders and slid his thigh between your legs in one graceful movement. He raked his hands under your shirt and jerked it off you. He licked your stomach, your ribs, and as he moved upward he tried to pin your hands above your head. Before he could, you leveraged your position under him, you were no match for his strength, and used his imblanace to roll him onto his back. You threw one leg across him and straddled him.

There was a horribly wonderful glint in his eyes as he grinned up at you. His breathing was shallow and quick. You glanced at his chest rising and falling. You slid your hands under his shirt, his abdomen firm under your fingers. You shifted your hips against his. He must have felt the same ache you did because he groaned. You leaned forward to pull Feyd’s shirt over his head and heat radiated from your core. Even your own breathing had become shallow.

As you looked at him, laying beneath you, there was something magnificent about him. Yes, he was horrid, still your enemy, but he was beautiful in a way which was unlike anything on your desert planet. You leaned forward and placed your mouth on his chest, listening to his response. You felt his hands move to your thighs. You slid your hands up his bare shoulders and you bit his chest, hard.

Feyd’s hips jerked up into yours. His fingers dug into your thighs through your pants and he growled. You expected him to push you off, command you to stop but he didn’t. You moaned against him as his hips ground into yours. When you let go and sat up you saw his eyes were closed. His face looked almost peaceful. Even so, you had gotten a peculiar satisfaction out of that. You had wanted to hurt him but this… this was very unusual for you. Not only did he seem to enjoy it but you did as well.

He opened his eyes slightly and stared at you. You stroked his stomach. You glanced down at the red bite mark on his chest and you actually smiled. When you looked back at him he lifted his hips gently and you shuddered. You curled your fingers against his flesh, fingernails scratching him. His cock was hard against your core, through both of your pants. You shifted your weight forward slightly, a small rocking motion, and his eyes closed. His fingers still clung to your thighs.

You slowly leaned forward and lowered your mouth to his. You licked his lips, his chin, down his jaw and neck. You made your way to his chest and teased him with your teeth. His hips had begun a steady rhythm under you. As you bit down this time you didn’t hold back. You thought of the wrongs done to your planet, his cock against you, his malice, and his sculpted muscles. All of the images swirled together as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the sensation of him rocking beneath you.

You increased the pressure of your bite slightly and his hands flew to your ass, pulling you against him to get you as close as possible. He rutted and groaned. You released your bite and you felt the pleasure of it wrack his body. He tensed, cursed, and arched his back against you. His cum soaked his pants, then yours. You ground against him as he came down from his high. The overstimulation caused a nearly pained look to cross his face. He opened his eyes and scowled.

Your core throbbed and ached. You wanted a release but were satisfied with what you had been able to do to him. A smug grin grew on your lips. You had gotten far more than you had planned.

Without warning, taking advantage of the moment in which you had let down your guard, Feyd lifted you off him. Within a second he was on top of you, knee back between your thighs. Only this time you couldn’t help rubbing against him, desperate.

“Let’s see if I can’t break you after all,” Feyd growled as he pinned your hands above your head.

[outpost51]

I would like to do a shout out to @outpost51 for insanely good writing, and being such a supportive and engaging contributor to the writeblr community (and writers in general actually)

[toska-writes]

Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

[mya-valentine]

Do you think you could write a piece of Traveler!Reader travels around with Kaeya and brother-in-law Diluc? I think it could be a fun dynamic. Please and thank you!

A Traveler’s Love: Adventures with Kaeya and Diluc

The sun was just rising over Mondstadt when your day began. As a traveler, your days were often filled with new sights, thrilling encounters, and the occasional monster skirmish. But today was special—it marked the second anniversary of your marriage to Kaeya Alberich, the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius.

Traveling with Kaeya was always an adventure in itself. His charisma and penchant for mischief turned even the simplest journey into a lively tale. To add to the excitement, your brother-in-law, Diluc Ragnvindr, often joined these expeditions. While his involvement was primarily to ensure your safety (he’d never say it outright, but you knew he cared), the dynamic between the two brothers was... eventful.

"Darling, are you ready?" Kaeya’s smooth voice called from the kitchen, where he was preparing breakfast.

You smiled as you adjusted your satchel. "Just about! Are you sure you packed everything?"

Kaeya stepped into view, his signature smirk firmly in place. He held up a bottle of his favorite wine. "Do you even have to ask? Priorities, my love."

Before you could respond, Diluc walked in, already dressed in his usual dark attire, his claymore strapped to his back. "Kaeya, this isn’t a vacation. It’s a supply run for Dawn Winery."

Kaeya raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes, because there’s nothing more thrilling than carrying barrels of wine across Teyvat."

You stifled a laugh as Diluc shot his brother a glare.

The journey began on horseback, with Kaeya riding beside you and Diluc leading the way. The path was peaceful at first, with the sun warming the countryside and the breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers.

Kaeya, of course, took this opportunity to swoon over you. "Isn’t the sunlight just perfect on their face today, Diluc? Truly, I’ve married the most radiant star in all of Mondstadt."

Diluc grumbled under his breath but kept his focus ahead. "We’re wasting daylight."

You chuckled. "Thank you, Kaeya, but maybe save the flattery for later? I’d like to get to Springvale before nightfall."

"Anything for you, my dear." Kaeya winked, but you noticed his smirk widen as he glanced at Diluc, clearly enjoying the irritation he was causing.

Springvale was bustling with activity, and you stopped for supplies while Diluc arranged for the wine barrels to be delivered to the nearby outpost. Kaeya took the opportunity to charm the locals, his smooth words leaving the merchants and townsfolk either blushing or laughing.

"Kaeya," you called, holding up a map. "Do you think we should take the southern route back? It looks like it might be faster."

He sidled up to you, leaning close to look over your shoulder. "Hmm, you’re right. And it would give us more time alone before my dear brother catches up."

"Kaeya," you said, nudging him playfully, "behave."

From a distance, Diluc’s voice cut through the chatter. "If you’re done flirting, we need to move."

Kaeya turned to you with mock seriousness. "He’s such a spoilsport, isn’t he?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "He’s efficient. Let’s go before he leaves us behind."

As you traveled through the southern woods, Kaeya couldn’t resist teasing Diluc.

"Brother," Kaeya began, his tone overly casual, "don’t you think it’s impressive how well my spouse handles traveling? A perfect match for someone as worldly as myself."

Diluc didn’t even glance back. "I think it’s impressive they tolerate you."

You burst out laughing, nearly doubling over in your saddle. Kaeya gasped in mock offense. "Darling! Are you siding with him?"

"Only because he’s not entirely wrong," you teased.

Kaeya clutched his chest dramatically. "Betrayed by my own beloved! Truly, I am heartbroken."

Diluc sighed. "Can we focus on the road? We’re not far from the Hilichurl camp."

Kaeya leaned closer to you, his voice low. "He’s just upset because he knows I’m right."

"Kaeya," you whispered back, trying not to laugh, "don’t push him too far."

"But it’s so fun," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Sure enough, a Hilichurl ambush awaited just ahead. The three of you leapt into action, Kaeya’s cryo abilities freezing enemies in place while you and Diluc handled the rest.

"Careful, darling!" Kaeya called as he dispatched a Mitachurl, glancing your way.

"I’m fine," you assured him, dodging an attack with ease.

Diluc’s fiery strikes lit up the battlefield, his movements precise and efficient. "Kaeya, less talking, more fighting."

"Ah, but where’s the drama in that?" Kaeya replied, effortlessly freezing another group of enemies.

When the battle ended, you wiped sweat from your brow and looked at the two brothers. "Nice work, both of you."

Kaeya grinned, tossing an arm around your shoulders. "See, even my beloved thinks I’m impressive."

Diluc rolled his eyes. "Let’s keep moving."

As night fell, you set up camp near a river. Diluc tended to the fire while Kaeya uncorked his precious bottle of wine.

"To a successful journey," Kaeya said, handing you a glass before raising his own.

"To not losing my sanity," Diluc muttered, sipping tea instead.

You smiled, feeling warmth from the fire and the company. "To family," you said, raising your glass.

Kaeya leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "The best toast of all."

Diluc pretended not to notice, focusing on the flames, but you caught the faintest hint of a smile.

You leaned against Kaeya, his arm around you as he regaled you with tales of Mondstadt’s history. Despite the teasing, the chaos, and the occasional battle, you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

As the stars appeared overhead, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for these moments. Traveling with Kaeya was never dull, and even with Diluc’s gruff demeanor, the dynamic between the three of you made every journey unforgettable.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[0kurakura0]

Case Files Pt. 3

Simon Riley "Ghost" x UN lawyer Reader

TF 141 receives a visit from a UN prosecutor working at the ICC. This overworked prosecutor is trying to build a case against war criminals and must team up with them to catch these criminals. Along the way, they may even catch feelings for a brooding soldier. slow-burn, M/F, cursing

>> Pt.1 >> Pt.2

The steady hum of the plane engines filled the cabin as Task Force 141 and their new reluctant companion settled into their seats. Ghost was seated near the back, arms crossed and gaze fixed straight ahead, his mask revealing nothing of his thoughts. Soap and Gaz sat side by side a few rows ahead, already engrossed in a spirited debate over whether the in-flight rations counted as edible.

Price, ever the professional, was at the front of the cabin, reviewing the mission details on his tablet. ___, sat slightly apart from the group, her normal suit attire traded for a more practical outfit consisting of cargo pants, boots, and a plain black jacket. Despite the attire, she still looked out of place amongst the others. 

The tension from the earlier briefing hadn’t dissipated. Ghost’s warning lingered in her mind, and she’d caught Soap throwing her a few sideways glances since they boarded. She adjusted her seatbelt, shifting uncomfortably as the turbulence made the plane shudder.

“Relax,” Gaz said from across the aisle, offering a small smile. “We’ve been through worse flights.”

“Great,” she muttered, gripping the armrest tighter. “Good to know my first field mission might involve falling out of the sky.”

Soap leaned back in his seat, flashing her a grin. “Don’t worry, lass. If we crash, Ghost’ll probably land us on his feet like a bloody cat.”

Ghost didn’t even bother looking at him. “Focus on the mission, MacTavish.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Soap quipped, though his grin didn’t waver.

Price’s voice broke through the chatter. “Listen up. Once we’re on the ground, things will move quickly. Tarek’s network is vast, but we have intel on a small arms deal happening at a warehouse outside Beirut. Our job is to intercept, secure evidence, and take down anyone who tries to stop us.”

“And the suit?” Ghost asked, his tone devoid of any warmth.

Leaning forward to glare at Ghost. “The suit has a name you know.” 

Price’s gaze flicked to ___. “She’s here to ensure what we find sticks in court and to make sure we don't violate any international laws. You’ll keep her safe.”

Ghost didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. __ decided to stay quiet for the rest of the flight, knowing anything she said would only add fuel to the fire. She stared out the window instead, watching the dark clouds swirl outside.

This was going to be a long mission.

---

The plane touched down on a small airstrip outside the city, the wheels screeching against the tarmac. The team disembarked quickly, the cold night air biting at their skin. They moved with practiced efficiency, loading their gear onto waiting trucks.

The base was a small, makeshift outpost nestled in the hills overlooking Beirut. As the convoy approached, the sound of generators and the hum of radio chatter greeted them. Soldiers moved about purposefully, their silhouettes stark against the floodlights illuminating the area.

Price led the group into the main operations tent, where maps and monitors covered every available surface. An officer greeted them with a sharp salute, then handed Price a tablet with the latest intel.

“Welcome Captin,” the officer said. “We’ve got eyes on the warehouse. Minimal movement so.”

Price nodded, motioning for the team to gather around. “We’ll go over the plan in the morning. For now, get some rest. Long day ahead.”

The team dispersed, each heading to their assigned quarters. __ was shown to a small, room with a cot, a desk, and a single lamp. She dropped her bag onto the floor and sat on the edge of the cot, exhaustion already creeping in. Just as she started to kick off her boots, there was a knock at the door.

Price stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Got a minute?” he asked.

“Yeah sure,” she replied, though her tone was wary.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You’re not a soldier. I get that. But out there, it won’t matter. Bullets don’t discriminate. If you can’t hold your own, you’re a liability to the team.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to ensure justice is served.”

“And you can’t do that if you’re dead,” he countered. “Starting tomorrow, Ghost will run you through the basics. Enough to keep you alive if things go south.”

Her stomach sank. “Ghost?”

Price’s lips twitched in what might’ve been a small smrik. “He’s the best we’ve got. You’ll learn fast.”

---

The morning sun cast a pale light over the base as __ made her way to the training area. She’d slept fitfully, the looming prospect of Ghost’s “training” keeping her awake. When she arrived, he was already there, his imposing figure standing by a table laden with gear.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice as gruff as ever.

“It’s six in the morning,” she shot back. “I’m not exactly a morning person.”

“Good thing you’re not here for a vacation,” he retorted. “Grab a vest. We’ll start with the basics.”

She sighed, shrugging into the heavy tactical vest he handed her. It felt like wearing a brick wall. He led her to a small range, where targets were set up at varying distances.

“First lesson: handling a firearm. If you’re in a fight, the last thing you want is to fumble.” He handed her a pistol. “Show me what you know.”

She hesitated, gripping the weapon awkwardly. “I’ve only ever handled a gun once. And it was a carnival game… I lost”

“Fantastic,” he said dryly. “Let’s fix that.”

For the next hour, he drilled her on the basics: stance, aim, trigger discipline. Her first shot hit the dirt two feet in front of the target, and her second ricocheted off the side of the range, prompting Ghost to step back with a muttered, “Bloody hell.”

“Are you trying to hit the target or scare it to death?” he asked.

“It’s harder than it looks!” she snapped, reloading with all the grace of someone trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions.

By the end of the session, she managed to hit the target more often than not, though her technique left much to be desired.

The second half of the sessions was worse, however. Ghost led her to an open area where he demonstrated hand-to-hand combat techniques.

“What are we doing now?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

“Teaching you how not to die when someone gets too close,” he replied. “Come at me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Attack me,” he said, gesturing for her to move. “Don’t think. Just do it.”

With no small amount of reluctance, she lunged at him. It ended poorly—she found herself on the ground in less than two seconds.

“Again,” he ordered.

She groaned, getting to her feet. “Do you enjoy this?”

“You’ll thank me later,” he said not masking the amusement in his voice, motioning for her to try again.

Her next attempt was equally disastrous. She tried to throw a punch, but it lacked any real force, and Ghost easily sidestepped, causing her to stumble forward. By her third attempt, she was so frustrated she let out a battle cry that sounded more like an angry goose, which prompted Soap—watching from a distance—to burst out laughing.

By the time they finished, she was bruised, exhausted, and thoroughly annoyed. Ghost, on the other hand, looked as unbothered as ever almost happy even.

---

By the time dinner rolled around,  was utterly spent. Her muscles ached, her pride was bruised, and her stomach growled loud enough to echo in the mess hall. She grabbed a tray and slumped into a seat at one of the long tables, praying for a moment of peace.

Naturally, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite new recruit,” Soap announced, plopping down across from her with an exaggerated grin. Gaz followed, carrying his tray and shaking his head at Soap’s antics.

“I’m not a recruit,” she mumbled, poking at the unidentifiable stew on her plate. “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer who can’t throw a punch to save her life,” Soap teased. “That wee war cry of yours? Nearly killed me. From laughter.”

Gaz snorted into his drink. “I’ve seen geese with more intimidating moves.”

“Ha, ha,” she said dryly, stabbing a piece of whatever kinda meat this was with her fork. “Glad I could entertain you.”

“To be fair,” Gaz added, “you did hit the target a few times by the end. Progress, eh?”

“Sure, if you call barely competent progress,” she muttered. “Ghost probably thinks I’m hopeless.”

Soap grinned. “Nah, if he thought you were hopeless, he wouldn’t bother trainin’ you. He’s just got a funny way of showin’ encouragement.”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use,” she said, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Before they could continue, an officer entered the mess hall, his expression tense. The room quieted as he approached their table.

“Captain Price wants everyone in the operations tent,” he said, his tone brisk. “We’ve got activity at the warehouse. Looks like the deal’s happening sooner than expected.”

Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Soap and Gaz were on their feet in seconds, their joking demeanor replaced with sharp focus.

“Guess playtime’s over,” Soap said, getting up from his spot and heading to the operation tent outside. 

__ stares down at her food before getting up with Gaz as they both start to head to the tent. 

“Hey maybe you might get lucky and Terek is scared of geese,” Gaz says with a chuckle.

“Please shut up…”

hey guys... so... yeah been a minute hasn't it.

I'm so sorry for the super super late update. Iv been stuck in the hospital due to a heart condition I suffer from and with the holidays I was just so stressed with that and my condition that I wasn't able to write anything.

but now I'm out horray so happy lol. but I started writing again just not sure about the schedule of when stuff with come out now also since I'll be starting college back up again so ill be busy. but I'll try my best to get stuff out to yall. also, I don't want this story to be a crazy slow burn so I might try to push things along in the next one and start the juicy stuff soon. hehehehhehehe.

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf

Part 9

---------------------------

Part 10: To touch

The outpost was quiet, the hum of its systems a familiar background noise as you sat on your bed, staring at the data pad in your hands. The words on the screen blurred as your mind wandered, far from the plant samples and bioluminescent analyses you’d been reviewing. A sigh escaped you, and you set the pad down, leaning back against the wall just to massage your tired eyes.

A soft knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. One of the younger scientists, Brian, stood there, a boyish grin on his face and a bottle tucked under his arm.

“Hey,” he said, his voice light and cheerful. “We’re having a little... gathering in the lounge. You should come.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “A gathering?”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping closer. “Just the xenobotany team. Some drinks, some laughs. Maybe a game of truth or dare. You know, good, old-fashioned bonding. Kate said you’d be too boring to come, so... prove her wrong?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the mention of Kate’s teasing. “I don’t know, Brian. I’ve got—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, flashing a pleading look. “We’ve been stuck on this rock for years. You deserve a little fun. Just an hour, I promise. And if it’s lame, you can leave. Please?” he looked at you, clasping his hands together in mock begging. “We need you to balance out the chaos. You’re the only one who can keep Kate from going rogue.”

A small laugh escaped you despite yourself, and you shook your head. “Fine. But only because I love you guys,” you said, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

Brian pumped a fist in victory. “Yes! You won’t regret it. Promise.”

You doubted that, but you followed him to the common area.

*

The rec room was buzzing with laughter and chatter when you arrived. The team had rearranged the furniture to form a loose circle, and a makeshift table in the center held a few half-empty bottle of some kind of cheap Earth alcohol. Kate was perched on the edge of the couch, mid-story, her hands gesturing animatedly as the others listened, their faces alight with amusement.

“And then,” Kate was saying, barely able to contain her laughter, “the harness snaps, and poor Tim is dangling upside down, yelling, ‘This isn’t in the manual!’”

The room erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t help but chuckle as you slipped into an open seat. Kate waved you over, patting the seat beside her. “There’s my favorite hermit. I was starting to think you’d forgotten how to socialize.”

You rolled your eyes, settling into the chair. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Norm passed you a cup, his smile warm. “Glad you could make it. It’s been a while since we’ve all just... hung out.”

Max, sitting across from you, raised his own cup in agreement. “Cheers to that.”

You smiled, taking an empty seat beside her as Norm handed you a cup. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing yet,” Norm said, leaning back with a smirk. “Just the usual chaos. Kate was just regaling us with her latest embarrassing memory.”

“Not embarrassing,” Kate corrected, pointing at him. “Hilarious. There’s a difference.”

Kate leaned in, smirking. “You know, back when Brian tried to impress a Na’vi by speaking their language and accidentally proposed marriage instead.”

Brian groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I knew that story would come up.”

The room erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t help but join in. The alcohol was cheap and burned going down, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. You let yourself relax as the conversation flowed, each story more ridiculous than the last.

You found a seat on one of the armchairs, sipping your drink as the conversation flowed around you. Kate was in rare form, regaling everyone with stories from her trainee days. One particularly ridiculous tale involved her accidentally gluing herself to a desk during a safety demonstration, and the room erupted in laughter as she acted out the scene.

The mood was light, the banter easy, and for the first time in days, you felt a little of the tension in your chest ease. You let yourself laugh, even chiming in with a few quips as the stories grew wilder. The alcohol loosened tongues and lightened moods, and before long, someone suggested playing truth or dare.

As the laughter died down, Brian leaned forward with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

Kate groaned. “Brian, you live for this, don’t you?”

“You know it,” he replied. “Come on, who’s first?”

The game started innocently enough, with silly dares and harmless truths. Tyler dared Norm to eat an entire spoonful of powdered coffee, which resulted in a coughing fit that left everyone in stitches. Max was asked to confess the worst grade he’d ever gotten during his training, and he sheepishly admitted to failing a chemistry quiz because he’d confused sulfur and silicon.

The game picked up quickly, the cheap alcohol loosening everyone’s inhibitions and making even the most reserved members of the team lean into the fun. Brian, one of the younger members of the xenobotany team, was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning mischievously as he leaned forward.

“Alright, let’s start this properly,” Brian declared, scanning the room. His gaze landed on Kate first. “Kate! Truth or dare?”

Kate rolled her eyes but smirked. “Truth. Let’s ease into this disaster, shall we?”

Brian grinned. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever said to a superior?”

Kate didn’t even hesitate. “Oh, easy. I once called the lead botanist ‘Plant Daddy’ by accident. To his face.”

The room burst into laughter, Max nearly choking on his drink. “Please tell me he responded to that,” he managed between gasps.

“Oh, he did,” Kate replied, her voice dry. “He said, ‘I prefer Dr. Grant.’ I think I wanted to crawl under the nearest microscope and die.”

As the laughter died down, Kate rubbed her hands together and turned to Norm. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Norm raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of his drink before replying. “Dare.”

Kate’s grin widened. “Alright, I dare you to chug this entire cup without making a face.”

Norm glanced down at his half-filled cup of the questionable alcohol, then shrugged. “Please. I’ve survived worse.”

The group cheered him on as Norm tipped the cup back and drained it in one go. He managed to keep a straight face for about two seconds before his entire body shuddered, and he sputtered, coughing as the burn hit him.

“Oh, god,” he choked out, his face scrunching up as everyone roared with laughter. “What is this? Paint thinner?”

“Close enough,” Brian said, grinning triumphantly. “But hey, you tried.”

“Alright, Brian,” Norm said once the chaos subsided, pointing a finger at him. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Brian said confidently, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

Norm tilted his head thoughtfully. “If you could switch jobs with anyone here, who would it be and why?”

Brian grinned. “Obviously Max. Then I could slack off and call it ‘management.’”

Max held a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me! My job is integral to this team.”

“Integral to keeping your chair warm,” Kate quipped, and the room dissolved into laughter again as Max threw up his hands.

“Okay, your turn,” Max said, leaning forward with a grin turning toward you.

“Truth”

„What’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever done at the Omaticaya village?”

Everyone turned to look at you expectantly, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “My Na’vi talking skills aren’t enough cringe for you?” you tried to deflect.

“Nope,” Kate said, grinning wickedly. “Spill.”

You sighed, setting your cup down. “Fine. It was maybe... my fifth visit? I was trying to joke around with Lo’ak. So I... uh... I threatened to touch him all over his body with my creepy tiny human hands.”

The room erupted into laughter, Max nearly spilling his drink as he doubled over. “You didn’t!” Kate gasped, clutching her stomach.

„Oh, I did!”

“Lo’ak must have been mortified,” Norm said, grinning.

“He was!” you said, laughing along with them. “He jumped back like I’d just threatened to poison him.”

As the laughter died down, you felt a warmth settle in your chest. For a moment, the weight of everything—the pressure, the uncertainty—felt lighter. Here, surrounded by friends and laughter, you let yourself forget the complications of your heart and simply enjoy the moment.

*Flashback – 3 years ago*

The soft hum of the transport reverberated through your feet as you stepped off with Norm and Max. You adjusted your exo-mask out of habit, even though the fit was perfectly snug, the air filters working as seamlessly as ever. Pandora's lush, living expanse stretched before you, the vibrant greens and soft bioluminescent glows making your heart swell with awe—as they always did. No matter how many times you visited the Omaticaya village, the sight of it never failed to take your breath away.

You spotted Kiri and Lo’ak bounding toward you, their movements fluid and full of energy. Their excitement was contagious, and you smiled widely as they greeted you with playful enthusiasm. Kiri reached you first, grabbing your hand and tugging you forward as if you might bolt. Lo’ak, always the charmer, grinned his signature mischievous smile and gave a mock bow.

“Back to grace us with your presence, huh?” he teased.

“Of course,” you replied, smiling. “Who else would put up with you?”

Their laughter was warm, and you found yourself relaxing despite the faint nervousness that always accompanied these visits. You tried not to think about the towering figure lingering near the entrance of the Sully family kelku. You knew he was watching—he always was. Neteyam had a way of observing from a distance that set your pulse racing for reasons you refused to examine too closely.

As you approached, your eyes flicked toward him briefly, catching the faint light in his golden gaze. He stood tall and composed, his arms crossed over his chest, every inch the stoic warrior. Something about his presence was magnetic, grounding even, and yet it left you feeling like your balance might slip if you got too close. You quickly shifted your focus back to Kiri, letting her lead you inside the family’s home.

The interior was warm and inviting, the bioluminescent patterns on the walls casting soft light across the space. You marveled at the woven tapestries and carefully crafted furnishings, each piece an extension of the forest itself. The air was filled with the subtle scent of wood and earth, calming and alive.

“These are beautiful,” you said, your fingers brushing over a hanging tapestry. The texture was rough but intricate, the patterns telling stories you could only begin to understand. “Did you make these, Kiri?”

Kiri’s face lit up with pride. “Some of them. Others are my mother’s. She’s incredible at weaving.”

“She is,” you said, your admiration genuine. “I could never do something this delicate.”

“Maybe I can teach you,” Kiri offered with a grin. “But you’d need to come here more often.”

Before you could respond, Lo’ak piped up, throwing an arm around Kiri’s shoulder. “She should. She’s already half-Na’vi, the way she’s always hanging around.”

Your cheeks warmed at his comment, but you laughed it off. “If that’s your way of inviting me, I’ll take it.”

Lo’ak smirked. “Anytime.”

Still, you couldn’t ignore the way Neteyam’s gaze lingered. You felt the weight of it even as he stayed silent near the wall, his posture relaxed but his presence undeniable. He always seemed to watch from the sidelines, and you often wondered what he thought. Did he see you as an interloper, an outsider trying too hard to fit into a world that wasn’t yours? Or did he feel the same pull that you did—the unspoken connection that hummed between you whenever he was near?

“Neteyam,” Kiri’s teasing voice cut through the quiet. “Are you just going to stand there like a statue?”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping as his golden eyes flicked toward you before quickly darting away. His ears twitched slightly, betraying his discomfort, and he straightened, clearing his throat.

“I am just... observing,” he said, his voice measured and steady.

Lo’ak grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “Yeah, big bro. Observing her, more like.”

Your face flushed, but you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Oh, come on, Neteyam,” you said, gesturing to him. “Sit with us. You’re making me nervous, standing there like that.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing your words. Then, slowly, he joined the circle, his movements deliberate. He sat a few feet away, keeping a respectful distance, but even from there, his presence felt all-encompassing. You tried not to let it affect you, focusing instead on Kiri and Lo’ak’s playful banter.

Your curiosity got the better of you as you turned to Kiri, her dark braids swaying as she laughed. “Can I touch your hair?” you asked tentatively. “It’s so intricate.”

“Of course,” Kiri replied, leaning forward. Her braids shimmered faintly in the soft light as you reached out, your fingers brushing over them with care. The texture was unlike anything you’d felt before—firm yet soft, a perfect harmony of the natural and the crafted.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, genuinely in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Maybe you’ll have braids one day,” Kiri teased. “Then you can really fit in.”

Your laugh was light, but the idea lingered in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Neteyam as you spoke, wondering if he thought the same. Was he as curious about you as you were about him?

Kiri beamed, clearly delighted by your interest. “You humans have strange hair too,” she teased, her smile wide. “So light and... fluffy.”

You laughed at that, the sound soft and genuine. “I guess we do. It’s not nearly as beautiful as yours, though.”

Lo’ak snorted from where he was sprawled out nearby. “Kiri’s just showing off because her braids are better than mine.”

“Because I take care of them,” Kiri shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.

Their banter made you laugh again, the warm, musical sound filling the space. Being with them always felt so natural, so easy. You hadn’t expected to feel this level of comfort here, surrounded by a culture and people so different from your own. But with Kiri and Lo’ak, it was like you belonged, even if only for a little while.

Your curiosity was insatiable as you reached out to trace one of the dark blue stripes running along Kiri’s arm. The texture of her skin was fascinating—smooth yet firm, so different from your own. “Your stripes are so unique,” you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. “Do they mean anything?”

Kiri glanced at the lines on her arm, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips. “Not really,” she said. “They’re just... us. Like fingerprints for humans, I guess.”

“That’s incredible,” you said softly, marveling at the intricate patterns that adorned her body. Each stripe seemed perfectly placed, as though painted by an artist’s hand. You couldn’t help but feel a deep admiration for the natural beauty of the Na’vi, a beauty that seemed to harmonize so effortlessly with the world around them.

Your gaze lingered on Kiri’s arm for a moment before curiosity tugged at you again. You turned slightly, your eyes falling on Neteyam. He was sitting quietly, his posture relaxed but his presence commanding. There was something about him that always made your heart flutter, a quiet intensity that drew you in no matter how hard you tried to resist.

You knelt in front of Neteyam, your heart racing as your hand hovered just inches from his arm. The stripes on his skin were mesmerizing, curving and twisting in intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with life. They weren’t just beautiful—they were a testament to the connection he had to this place, to Eywa, to the world you were still learning to understand.

You hesitated, your fingers twitching slightly. “Neteyam,” you said softly, your voice quieter than you intended. “May I...?”

He blinked, his golden eyes meeting yours, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. For a moment, you thought he might say no, but then he nodded, his expression calm though you could see the faintest flicker of something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe, or something deeper.

Gently, you reached out, your fingertips brushing against his forearm. His skin was warm, the texture smooth yet firm, and you marveled at the way the stripes curved along the muscles of his arm. You let your fingers trace one of the lines, following it with careful precision, afraid to press too hard, as though he might pull away.

“Yours are different,” you murmured, your eyes flicking up to meet his for a brief moment before returning to his arm. “The way they curve here... it’s beautiful.”

You saw his ears twitch in response, a small movement that he probably thought went unnoticed. It didn’t. The little gestures, the way his tail swayed or his ears shifted, were all things you’d come to recognize. They spoke volumes, more than words ever could.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and your gaze shifted to his hand. “Your hands,” you said, leaning closer so you could see more closely. You reached out without thinking, gently taking his hand in yours. His hand dwarfed yours entirely, the sheer size of it fascinating. “You have four fingers,” you said, your tone soft with wonder. “Not five like Kiri and Lo’ak.”

“It’s... normal for most Na’vi,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. It was almost hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure why you found it so interesting.

You turned his hand slightly, your fingers brushing over the rough calluses on his palm. “They’re amazing,” you said softly, tracing one of the lines that ran along the base of his fingers. “So strong.”

He didn’t pull away, but his tail flicked behind him, and you noticed the way his shoulders seemed to tense ever so slightly. You felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if you were being too forward, but his lack of protest gave you the courage to continue.

“Does it feel different?” you asked, tilting your head as you compared his four fingers to your five. “Having four instead of five?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but notice how quiet his voice was. “I’ve never had five.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking the quiet tension between you. “Fair enough,” you said, glancing up at him. His golden eyes were focused on you, watching your every move with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

Holding up your hand, you placed it against his, palm to palm. The difference in size was stark, his hand engulfing yours entirely. “It’s so big,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I knew it would be, but... wow.”

The moment hung in the air, your fingers lightly resting against his. You could feel his warmth, the steady strength of his hand beneath yours. Your gaze flicked up to his face, catching the faint color blooming on his cheeks, the way his ears twitched and his tail swayed more erratically.

“Look at him!” Lo’ak’s voice shattered the quiet moment, and you turned to see him grinning, pointing at Neteyam. “His tail’s going wild! Big bro’s flustered because of her tiny alien hands!”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and before you could think, you turned to Lo’ak, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Oh, so you want my tiny alien hands crawling up your body?” you teased, wiggling your fingers at him like claws.

Lo’ak’s grin vanished, his eyes widening in mock horror as he stumbled back. “No, no! Keep those creepy little hands away from me!”

Kiri burst into laughter, doubling over as she clutched her stomach. Even Neteyam, who had been so still and composed moments ago, let out a deep, rich laugh that sent warmth flooding through your chest. It was a sound you hadn’t heard often, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

You turned back to Neteyam, catching the way his laughter softened into a smile as he looked at you. His golden eyes sparkled in the dim light, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The teasing, the laughter, the noise—it all fell into the background. All that mattered was the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world.

Your own smile softened, and you felt a quiet joy settle in your chest. Neteyam had always been steady, composed, a figure of strength and responsibility. But here, in this moment, he was just... him. And it felt like a gift, one you hadn’t expected but cherished all the same.

You didn’t know what Eywa intended or where this path would lead, but as you watched him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, this was where you were meant to be.

Part 11

[melrosing]

MBO Robert's Rebellion: Season 2 Episode 2

what the fuck is this: it's me drafting a fake robert's rebellion tv show through a series of bullet points. there will be two seasons of ten episodes each

i figured actually this one is basically done so im posting it. the rest should come prettyyyy quickly now, it's just a couple story strains where i'm making the last few edits to get everything in across the ten eps. anyway this 'season' is probably a wholeass exercise for me in trying to make sense of Rhaegar Targaryen so welcome, pls come along for the ride.

SEASON ONE: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6, Episode 7, Episode 8, Episode 9, Episode 10

SEASON TWO: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

title for this one: rhaegar breaks everything

Lyanna wakes in her tent to the sound a baby’s desperate screams. Perplexed, she dresses hurriedly and saddles her horse, riding off at pace to where she thinks they seem to come from. She grows more frustrated the further she rides, never seeming to get any closer. Suddenly, she hears a voice scream her name - it’s Ned’s. She sends her horse to a gallop, and reaches a familiar clearing: she met Rhaegar here a year ago, during the tourney of Harrenhal. Distracted, Lyanna regards the place a moment in silence, then reaches inside her cloak to find the flower crown Rhaegar gave her back then. It’s dried out now. A voice whispers ‘Lyanna’ more quietly, and Lyanna, alarmed, turns to see Rhaegar, leading a horse of his own. She asks if he heard a child; Rhaegar says he didn’t. Lyanna says she’d thought she’d heard Ned too, but he’s in the Vale. She supposes she must’ve been dreaming. Rhaegar asks if she dreams often, Lyanna says she dreams sometimes. Rhaegar asks of what, Lyanna says of this place, of blue roses, and of - she looks at him, stops. But Rhaegar knows already. He says, ‘I dream, too.’

Opening creds

Brandon riding for the Stark camp with Edmure, who chatters beside him about how he’s never ridden this far before. They meet Benjen at the outpost, who looks anxious; Brandon asks what the matter is, Benjen tells him it’s Lyanna. Together, they ride hard for camp

Ned and Robert at the Eyrie. Robert is bouncing a toddler in his lap, whilst Ned looks miserable. Robert makes reference to Brandon’s wedding, says Ned might have gone; Ned replies that he doubts Brandon will miss him. Rickard neither for that matter - Ned suspects he had always favoured his brothers. Robert laughs at that, assuring Ned that he’s the best of them - but for a man unbetrothed he could afford to have a little more fun. Ned says sceptically that betrothal has never kept Robert from fun, and Robert laughs, making the toddler (Mya) in his lap laugh too. Robert laughs the harder

Brandon and Edmure meet Rickard in the woods, searching for Lyanna. Rickard tells them that he and Lyanna had fought, and he suspects Lyanna may be sulking somewhere - but these woods are too dangerous for that, and she must be found. The rumours are already abound, too, that she is wild and loose, and he fears for their betrothal if Robert were to find out about this. He rides off, vexed 

Benjen asks Brandon if everything will be alright; Brandon isn’t sure, says he suspects Rickard is more worried than he’s letting on  

Jaime guarding Rhaella in the godswood; he has seen little of her since he took up his post, and notices bruises about her neck - the only part of her uncovered. Rhaella tells Jaime she remembers his mother, talks fondly about her as though talking to herself. She was such a child: giggled a lot, had plenty of daydreams, a sweet girl in her way, before she became lofty Lady Lannister. Jaime isn’t really listening, distracted by her injuries - he asks if she’s alright. Rhaella’s face clouds over; she tells Jaime it’s nothing, and speaks no more

Cut to Aerys in the throne room. Where is his goddamn son??? Rhaegar has not been seen for several nights. Aerys airs the suspicion that Rhaegar rides for Casterly Rock to plot against him with Tywin Lannister. Varys says he shudders to think… but it is said that Rhaegar did not take the Goldroad. Aerys wonders if Jaime Lannister knows something. Gerold Hightower says he’s sure the boy knows nothing. Varys says they can’t know that. Either way - Hightower changing the subject - for all his strength, Rhaegar is vulnerable when riding alone, and should be found. He says he will send two of his own men to find the Prince. Arthur Dayne knows him well, and will doubtless find him in good time 

Elia alone in her rooms, with her children playing at her feet. Rhaenys asks where father is; Elia, feeling too tired to comfort her daughter, simply tells her she doesn’t know. Rhaenys, weepy now, asks if he’s coming back. Elia says she doesn’t know that either. Rhaenys starts to cry, and Elia, looking dead inside, does nothing for several moments before reaching down to pick her up and comfort her. She tells Rhaenys about Dorne, says if father can run away then so can they. They’ll go to the Water Gardens, and Rhaenys can play with her cousin Arianne. Rhaenys asks if father will be sad if they go. Elia says no, she doesn’t think he’d be sad at all

Arthur Dayne in the WST, packing bags. Jaime watches on, asks where he is going. Arthur says to find the Prince. Jaime says he’ll go with him, Arthur says no. Jaime tries to argue, Arthur remains steadfast. Upset, Jaime says that he knows Arthur regrets knighting him, thinks it was a mistake to ever place him in the KG to begin with. Arthur says that isn’t so, it is simply that the King needs him here. For what?? Jaime says the King hates him. Arthur does not deny it, but states simply that there will come a time when the King will have great need of him. Jaime stares at him, perplexed. Ser Gerold Hightower walks in, and says he has an errand for Arthur, yet is startled to see Arthur is packing already. Jaime even more perplexed 

Ned running errands for Jon Arryn in a small town in the Vale. In a tavern, he attracts the notice of a black-haired girl, who flirts with him. Ned is uncomfortable, buts feels some attraction himself. She says she’s noticed him before with his friend, but she’s always liked Ned better. Ned feels himself being drawn in, doesn’t altogether like it - but likes it a little. The girl suggests they go somewhere quieter, and Ned tentatively agrees. As he follows her to the back rooms, she kisses him. Ned is shocked despite himself, and just as they reach the door he declines after all and turns back, embarrassed

Searching the woods for Lyanna. Benjen finds her dried flower crown on the forest floor where she had been the night previous, and runs to deliver it to his father and brother. Rickard and Brandon look at it horrified, till a local arrives with guards to tell them what he saw: Rhaegar rode past their village last night, and he had a girl with him. Rickard in crisis mode: he orders Benjen to return North to hold Winterfell. Benjen tells his father he doesn’t want to leave; he wants to find his sister. Brandon tells him there must always be a Stark in Winterfell (doesn’t explain why there wasn’t one this whole time but I digress), and Rickard tells him that they will return in good time - but not without Lyanna

Cat and Lysa waiting on the parapets for Brandon. Cat wonders why Lysa seems in such a good mood today, and asks her - but Lysa won’t reveal, hums smugly to herself

Suddenly they see Edmure on the horizon, but there’s no sign of Brandon??? The sisters race to the gates and find their father is there already. Edmure, both panicked and confused, tells their father that Brandon has ridden for KL - wtf???

Ned returns to the Eyrie, is told Jon Arryn wants him urgently. Ned bizarrely feels like he’s in trouble, enters Jon Arryn’s solar nervously - finds Robert pacing in rage, and Jon looking sorrowful. There’s been raven etc

Rhaegar and Lyanna riding together. Rhaegar is very quiet, and Lyanna doesn’t quite know where she’s following him to - but follows nonetheless. She asks lots of questions, doesn’t get many clear answers, till Rhaegar reveals he believes they were meant to meet that day at Harrenhal. Had she felt it, too? Lyanna frowns, intrigued, but a little frightened, too. Perhaps she had felt that, too. Rhaegar looks at her, knowingly

[outpost51]

I do my own trick or treat thing for Halloween proper but I’m so down for extended festivities!!

🎃 Trick or Treat 🎃

The Event

Let’s celebrate Halloween together with a fun game! During this event, we’ll knock on people’s ask boxes and send them a simple question: Trick or Treat? 🦇

The recipient decides if it’s to be a trick, or a treat, as the owner of the house.

🍬 Treat — If the recipient choses treat, they share something with us as a treat. This could be a snippet, a line, OC trivia, or what have you!

👻 Trick — Turning the question around, the asker now has to share something of their own! But, seeing as it’s a trick, they may leave something under a read more, or link to something, that may catch you off guard… 😱

The event is held* through 27th-29th of October.

(Examples of) What you can share:

A snippet

A scene

OC trivia

Worldbuilding fact

A song, or even a playlist

A moodboard

Poetry

Anything you think is a treat you want to share!

If you get “Trick 👻”, pulling a trick is up to you.

❗ Tricksters ❗ Keep to etiquette. A rick roll is fun, a spooky gif, a picrew of your character dressed up for Halloween, and other fun tricks are what I hope to see, should someone chose to pull a trick.

Yes, you read that right! "Trick or Treat" is making a comeback this year 🍬🗡️ Spread this post to get the word out. I'll send an ask to everyone who reblogs this! 🎃

*I will be sending asks during these dates but you are welcome to start this event any time you like and tweak it how you want. Remember Writeblr etiquette and send an ask back to the one who sent one to you! (Excluding me 👻)

🧡 Enjoy 🧡

[ohbloggerimagines]

Hello! How are you? I hope your day is going swell :)

I love your possessive/protective!Rocket X Reader headcanons! The subconscious actions of him trying to keep her safe are so CUTE

Would I be able to request a oneshot of when the Guardians were out, Rocket noticed someone, or a group, staring at (Y/N), so he walked behind her, blocking their view of her ass.

Maybe he pat her hip/ass, something that was a normal thing between Rocket and (Y/N), so she just instinctively scratches behind his ears while Rocket glares or smirks at the stranger/s.

i feel like i could've done better with this one so i might end up redoing it ;;

also i refuse to belive gamora and peter are no longer together so just believe they are ! ill die on that hill

pairing: rocket raccoon x fem!reader

word count: 558

tags: gotg, rocket raccoon x reader, fem! reader, possesive rocket

“Rocky!” You shouted happily, pointing to one of the many shops within Contraxia, almost swooning over the handmade beanies being sold. “The hell you need one of those for? I can make you one! Besides, you get one every time we come here!” He grumbled, waving the shop off and making you groan and roll your eyes. 

You and the Guardians needed a break, deciding to stop off at your favorite icy planets for a few drinks. It was pretty packed that day, Rocket making sure you stayed close to him and the group in general with all the idiots and pickpocketers around. 

Passing the Iron Lotus, you watched Peter’s wandering eyes almost get slapped out of their sockets by Gamora, making you and Mantis snicker. You two were good friends, being able to have girl talk without being judged was nice. You stepped a little ahead Rocket, lightly bumping Mantis and striking up conversation about how cold it was, and all the little things you two definitely needed to buy. 

“I saw this super cute jacket last time we were here, hopefully I can find it before we go. It would look so good on you!” You conversed with her, “You think? We must find it later!” Mantis beamed, excited to hang out with you. 

Rocket’s head was on a swivel, watching every single person that walked by or even those who stood at the shops. He was not taking any chances with idiots this time. 

There were so many..men everywhere. His nerves were on edge.

Finally, the crew made it to their favorite hole in the wall bar, the Whistling Outpost. Quant enough that nothing too crazy went on, but it was never a dull vibe inside. There was a line outside the door, a guard checking everyone's name on his tablet to make sure they weren’t letting in any stowaways or general freaks. 

Peter and Gamora were in the front, behind them was Drax and Nebula, followed by you and Mantis still chattering away, with a very attached raccoon at your side. 

He could feel the eyes not only on him but on you. Rocket’s eyes scanned around slowly to find the idiot who thought it was a good idea to stare at what was his. There was a group of them, dirty, drunk, and daring, staring and pointing while making quiet suggestive comments the keen raccoon could hear. Rocket decided not to make a big deal tonight, he just wanted to relax..

Instead, he slyly turned his body to face you, blocking their view of your ass and anything else they might want to stare at, creating a barrier but not making too much of an issue. He glanced over at the group, noticing a slight change in their stature. Rocket gently tapped your ass, his paw sliding to your belt loop and hooking his finger through it to hang on to you. 

You felt his comforting touch and without missing a beat you glanced down at him and scratched lightly behind his ear, smiling at him before going back to talking Mantis’ ear off.

Rocket grinned, turning back to the drunken group, taunting them with his smirk. The look of defeat on their faces was enough for him to enjoy it.

No one got to look at you when he was around.

[daphnefisherofficial]

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Avatar Fem!Reader

masterlist | previous | next chapter

(A/N: This update took a lot longer than expected, because I really wanted to flesh out Darius Carter's character here. As we discovered in the latest chapter, he is the avatar of Anubis and the past life of our moon boys (Marc, Steven and Jake). I can't wait for you to finally meet him and discover how he first met our beloved Mira (you) and became an avatar. Sooooooo, I will no longer keep you waiting. Enjoy!)

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - LIEUTENANT DARIUS CARTER

The year was 1914, and the world was on the brink of an inferno. The scent of gunpowder and the sound of marching boots echoed through the continent, war slowly rising on the precipice as the entirety of mankind braced itself for a conflict of an unprecedented scale. As the avatar of Mayari, the goddess of the moon, your immortality has not shielded you from countless conflicts that you have witnessed over centuries. But something about this one felt different.

As the majority of Europe has been set ablaze with the flames of war, you found yourself walking on foreign soil, far from the shores of your own homeland. Leaving the tranquil halls of Harvard University where you had just earned your medical degree being a pensionada, you have answered the call of duty in the first world war as you were dispatched to the epicenter of battle.

Not as a warrior, but as a healer.

It was a time of uncertainty, and your only duty was to save lives and alleviate the suffering caused by the horrors of war. It was a daunting task, but you were determined to do your part.

It was in a military outpost in France where you crossed paths for the first time. The air in the barracks was thick with anticipation and a hint of apprehension as fresh soldier recruits started to fill the encampment, their faces a mix of youthful enthusiasm and the dawning realization of what lay ahead. 

You stood among the medical personnel sent by the American Red Cross, observing the nervous yet determined faces of your comrades as you were being introduced to one another and your regiment officer. Your crisp, white medical uniform felt heavy with responsibility, yet you bore it with the quiet strength of someone who had seen far more than her youthful appearance suggested.

It was here that you saw him for the first time.

His towering stature caught your eyes immediately, standing tall and proud among your peers as his striking hazel brown eyes seemed to pierce through the haze of bodies and chatter. He stood out, not just for his imposing presence but for the way he carried himself—confident, yet with an air of humility.

His olive brown skin was littered with nervous sweat as he saluted, his military uniform crisp and new.

"Lieutenant Darius Carter, reporting for duty," he said, his voice steady and confident.

“At ease, Lieutenant”, the regiment officer said, patting the young soldier’s back encouragingly before his eyes fell on you and your colleagues. “You will be in charge of this unit, together with our friends and allies from the American Red Cross. Why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

It was there, amidst the sea of young, eager faces, that your eyes met for the first time. Darius found himself tongue tied as you stepped forward, his heart pounding loudly in his chest as he witnessed you raising your right hand to salute before introducing yourself to your superiors and your fellow army recruits altogether. 

“Myrna Katigbak, reporting for duty,” you spoke, managing a polite smile despite yourself as you felt a hundred pairs of eyes on you. And yet, Darius's gaze stood out from the rest of your comrades, his eyes sparkling with bold admiration as he felt a strong connection in that moment, an inexplicable pull towards you that he couldn’t possibly ignore. 

Something about your enigmatic presence drew him in. Having grown up in a family with a deep connection to Egyptology, you were like an undiscovered pharaoh’s tomb to the young lieutenant waiting to be unravelled. And like any archaeologist and Egyptologists he has known his whole life, he has made it his first mission to seek you out and fulfill his quiet curiosity.

The next time you saw Darius Carter, it was in the makeshift soup kitchen. The scent of broth and bread filled the air as you ladled portions into bowls, your hands moving with practiced efficiency. Your fellow medics and soldiers, both weary and hungry after their intensive training, lined up at the long table with gratitude etched on their faces as you started to distribute lunch.

The young lieutenant was but a few steps away from the long table as the line progressed, almost chickening out as he neared. As he slowly approached, you looked up and met his gaze fully for the first time. Handing him his bowl of soup and a half loaf of bread, you noticed him trying to linger, his eyes bright with a mixture of hope and shyness as he struggled to find the words to speak.

“You can come back for seconds later, Lieutenant Carter”, you smiled, amused by his poor attempt at small talk which you find endearing.

“Right, thank you, Miss Katigbak”, he stammered as he ended up butchering the last name of your latest alias.

“You can just call me Myrna”, you corrected with an amused smile, bidding him goodbye as your attention shifted to the next man in need of sustenance. “I don’t expect everyone to get my last name right”

Darius internally groaned as he mildly shook his head, managing a soft chuckle despite himself as he continued moving forward and out of the lunch line. He found himself sitting at a nearby table, still gazing longingly at the long table where you were as he started to eat. As the hours slowly progressed and the early afternoon finally made its way, the number of people in the soup kitchen slowly dwindled until the only ones left were him and you.

This time around, Darius no longer allowed his nerves to get the best of him. With careful steps, he approached you once again, his eyes emanating the same spark from when he first laid eyes on you. 

“Excuse me, Miss Katigbak”, he asked, finally pronouncing your last name correctly with his rich, baritone voice that resonated pleasantly in the empty vicinity. “May I help you with anything?”

“You got it right this time,” you nodded in his direction as you started preparing your workspace for your upcoming chore. “And yes, you can help by carrying those empty bowls from the lunch tables and I’ll wash them here.”

He eagerly obliged, his movements careful as he balanced multiple trays of empty bowls on his hands. As soon as they piled up, he worked alongside you and shared your dishwashing workload. It was a mundane task for a soldier like him, but it didn’t matter as he had you to keep him company.

Besides, observing you from afar was becoming his favorite pastime. Your smooth and flawless skin was the first thing he noticed, a warm, sun-kissed brown with golden undertones that radiated health and vitality. Your hair, ebony-black and rich, fell in long, soft waves around your shoulders, framing your face perfectly. Your facade possessed a delicate heart-shaped contour that added a touch of youthful charm, along with high cheekbones and small, slightly upturned nose that accentuated your femininity. Your lips, full and naturally mauve, curved into a smile that reflected the warmth of your spirit, a genuine expression that made him feel at ease.

But it was your eyes that truly captivated him. Almond-shaped and chestnut brown, they glistened with warmth and mystery, capable of conveying joy, sorrow, and strength in a single glance. Framed by long, thick lashes, your gaze had an intensity that made those who met it feel uniquely seen. Your naturally arched brows added depth to your expression, giving you a look of quiet confidence.

“You never did go back for seconds, Lieutenant Carter” you spoke out loud, slightly startling Darius from his own reverie.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, his voice warm and earnest as you ended up laughing at his amusing response. 

“I meant you could go back in line earlier after finishing your meal to get a second serving of soup and bread”, you ended up explaining in which Darius sighed with pure relief. “I was waiting for you”

“Oh, right”, he seemed to relax at your friendly tone. “I’m too shy, unfortunately, so I will most likely die of hunger before I ask you for seconds, Miss Katigbak”

“You can just call me Myrna”, your amusement grew as you observed his quiet awkwardness which you find endearing. “Miss Katigbak is too formal and besides, it’s only the two of us here”

“Myrna it is”, Darius nodded, testing your name in his lips. “And please call me Darius, Lieutenant Carter is also too formal”

“Sure, Darius”, you obliged, prompting a warm smile from the lieutenant. “And now that introductions and our collective nerves are out of the way, care to tell me why you’re really here?”

"Well, to be honest, I was hoping to engage you in a conversation since we’ve first met”, Darius scratched the back of his head, his gaze locked onto yours. “I've heard that you're a medical graduate, and I thought I might pick your brain about a few things."

"I'm happy to help, but I have to warn you that I'm not the most exciting conversationalist”, you laughed softly. “I spend most of my time tending to wounds and doling out soup."

“That’s quite all right”, Darius's eyes sparkled with interest. "In fact, I have a penchant for Egyptology. Did you know that the ancient Egyptians were pioneers in the field of medicine?"

“Egyptology, you say?” you couldn't hide your surprise. "That's an unexpected interest for a soldier. But I must admit, it's a topic I find intriguing as well."

“I could spend all day talking about it if you’re interested”, Darius started, his positive energy overflowing at finding an outlet to share his interests. “I came from a family of archaeologists and Egyptologist, hence my knowledge”

As he started going on about his recent discoveries in the history of Egyptian medicine, you slowly fulfilled his curiosity by answering his questions in correlation to your current expertise, marking your longer interactions with the young lieutenant. He didn’t keep the conversation one-sided and challenged your insights, asking about your journey from America, your studies at Harvard, and your impressions of the war. You answered every question with polite brevity, finding his earnestness both charming and amusing as the two of you find companionship amidst the harsh reality of the ongoing war.

Your paths crossed once again in the crucible of battle. The frontlines were chaotic and brutal, the air filled with the deafening sounds of gunfire and explosions, serving as a constant backdrop to your work as a medic. You and Darius found yourselves deployed and stationed together with him as the commanding officer of your sector. As a medic, you worked tirelessly to fulfill your duty to save as many lives as possible and tended to the wounded from your unit, often under fire. 

It was during one of these intense battles that you truly began to see the depth of his character.

Darius was brave, almost to the point of recklessness, always throwing himself into the fray to protect his comrades. It was after one such skirmish that he found himself injured, and you were the one to tend to his wounds. As you worked, he watched you with a mixture of pain and admiration.

"You have a steady hand," he remarked, his voice strained but appreciative.

"Years of practice," you replied, focused on your task. "Hold still, this might hurt."

He winced but remained silent as you cleaned and bandaged his wounds. When you were finished, he looked at you with gratitude. "Thank you, Myrna. I don't know what I'd do without you here."

You smiled softly. "It's my duty, Darius. Just as it's yours to fight."

In the days that followed, your interactions grew more frequent and meaningful. You shared stories, hopes, and fears, finding solace in each other's company amidst the horrors of war. Your connection deepened, and it became clear that Darius's feelings for you were more than just admiration.

One fateful day, your barracks were under siege, almost overrun by enemy forces. The chaos was overwhelming as German soldiers started to storm the base. Recognizing the dire situation, Darius Carter ordered your unit as its commanding officer to evacuate.

“Myrna, take the others and head to the trucks”, he said, handing you a slip of paper with coordinates. “You and the rest of the surviving sector will be taken to the rendezvous point.”

“Understood, Lieutenant”, you nodded, saluting Darius as you started to help your fellow medics and other soldiers escape first, ensuring they reached the safety of the military trucks stationed on the outskirts. As the alarm sounded, signaling the order to retreat, you urged the remaining few of your comrades to make haste, barking orders left and right as you refused to leave anyone behind.

“Darius, you need to go”, you shouted amidst the chaos around you, seeing the lieutenant fought bravely as he clutched his rifle close, firing shot after shot at the advancing German soldiers merely a few feet away.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, Myrna”, he declared, his voice firm with resolve.

“I’ll be right behind you”, you insisted and started to push him away to safety, but he held his ground unwavering. 

“No, I’m not leaving you!” he shouted, his eyes locking onto yours with pure determination as his tone left for no argument. “We’re in this together”

You sighed in defeat, allowing him to stay by your side knowing there was no time to debate. The situation grew more perilous by the minute as it became clearer that the enemy was closing in on the barracks. But you and Darius continued to stand your ground, determined to aid your fellow comrades and guide them to safety.

Together, you fought your way through the turmoil as the chaos and destruction intensified, dodging bullets and explosions while glancing left and right to ensure each other’s safety. The moment of truth came when the last of the military trucks departed, and the two of you finally decided to make your escape. 

The barracks were in shambles, and you could hear the sounds of enemy soldiers drawing nearer. The two of you made a run for it, racing toward the outskirts where an abandoned motorbike was stationed.

But fate had other plans. Just as you were about to reach the vehicle, a group of German soldiers appeared on the scene, hot on your heels. They spotted your position, and before the two of you could react, shots rang out followed by a sharp crack that rang out. Darius staggered as he cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder where a bullet had struck. You watched in horror as he fell to the ground, the world seeming to slow down around you.

Panic coursed through you as you knelt beside him, trying to assess the situation. The German soldiers closed in, their weapons trained on you both. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you let your own instinct take over. There’s no way in hell that you will let him die on your watch.

Without hesitation, you drew upon the ancient powers bestowed on you by your patron goddess Mayari, summoning her very essence that lay dormant within you all these long years until this precise moment. In a blinding flash, your form shifted as the ceremonial armor slowly materialized in a shimmer of moonlight, replacing the former medical uniform enveloping your body.

You, Myrna Katigbak, a simple medic, began to change before Darius’s wide eyes. The initial shock and disbelief he felt witnessing your transformation slowly turned into awe, marking the beginning of your intertwined fates being woven together.

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

masterlist | previous | next chapter

[redara]

And Your Voice Was All I Heard

Pairings: Union of Light Bi-Han/Áila Havarôr Ratings: Mature Words: 6.990 TW: depiction and mention of abuse, blood, torture Summary: Post-MK1. Áila realizes the Lin Kuei is steering away from their purpose. She needs to escape the compound and return to Liu Kang in the Wu Shi Academy before the Grandmaster finds out what she's doing, for the price for treachery is death.

A/N: also posted on AO3. Áila is the OC of @tazahan and this fic is based on her work:

The bell rings.

Áila follows her peers – the group of Lin Kuei warriors – rushing to the main hall to attend the call for the urgent meeting. She is dreading the worst; it’s difficult to think of anything positive at this moment, not since the Grandmaster returned, alone and injured, and declared his two brothers as traitors. It’s the hot talk of the barracks; Scorpion and Smoke had defied order; they had attacked Sub-Zero and left him by the outer outpost of the Lin Kuei’s territory. Search parties have been assigned since then, and while it was fruitful, Scorpion and Smoke have fled Arctika.

Then, Sub-Zero suddenly announced that the Lin Kuei will not answer to Fire God Liu Kang or the Wu Shi Academy anymore.

Truth be told, Áila is confused with the whole ordeal. A part of her is telling her to trust the Grandmaster, yet deep inside she knows there is more to the story than what has been told. There must be a greater reason why Scorpion and Smoke forsook their oath and left the clan – either there is one reason, or she is still in denial, like any other Lin Kuei.

The main hall is already full of neatly lined warriors; Áila falls into formation, scanning the room. Tension is high, mixing with a variety of emotion – confusion, anger, anxiety, mixing as one. Hushed chatters being exchanged, questioning the reason for their assembly, questioning if it has something to do with the runaway brothers. Until the grand door opens, and the hall falls silent.

Walking into the room is the Grandmaster himself, dressed in his usual blue uniform. The lack of yellow and gray warriors who’d tail behind him is a new sight, one that makes Áila’s heart clench. Instead, there is a trail of ice following his footsteps, crackling, disappearing after a second. The torches of the hall sways as he comes in proximity. He takes his stand and looks down at his warriors; anger flashes in his usually stern gaze in the form of the warm fiery lights of the hall; the hardened feature of his face lets it be known how serious he is tonight, that whatever he is about to say will be of the utmost importance.

“I shall keep this brief,” he opens, his deep voice cuts the silence with such authority, echoing against the stone walls, “for as I am speaking, the two traitors have settled in Japan and built a clan to fight against ours. Carve this name in your mind: The Shirai Ryu; for mercy shall not be given to them or their allies.”

Sub-Zero paces slowly. “For centuries, the Lin Kuei have stood loyally by Earthrealm; our ancestors have kept the peace and protected the masses without recognition. We have stood, leashed to ridiculous rules set by Liu Kang, for no reason but to hold us back. You,” he waves his hand in a general direction, startling a line of warriors, “have trained and learned all your lives. Yet when the time calls, you have witnessed Liu Kang picking unworthy fighters to be tested against your might – a test of which you must fail. You have witnessed your brethren be sent off to fight by the demand of the Fire God; how little the number of those who returned, and our name remains unseen in the grand history of the world.

“Centuries of hard work, dedication, and loyalty… Would you like to know what the other Realms call us?”

His nose scrunches up in disgust as he continues.

“‘Liu Kang’s lapdogs’.”

The deafening silence is replaced by a cacophony of gasps. The tension breaks into a unified anger and hushed protest. Áila tries to remain composed – no, no, it’s not true… Liu Kang trusts the Lin Kuei, in fact, he talks of them highly. There is no way he would let anyone belittle the Lin Kuei.

But the Grandmaster carries on, collecting the newfound disappointment of his Lin Kuei warriors towards the Fire God, “No more shall our name be wiped from history. I vowed to you that we shall be known throughout the Realms. A clan – a nation – of which others will fear and respect –”

What is happening? No, no, this is not –

“Never again shall we be shackled by Liu Kang and his tyranny. We shall stand on our own, not for Liu Kang, not for Earthrealm –”

Áila internally begs the Grandmaster to stop. This is madness… He is declaring war against Liu Kang and Earthrealm – against his own brothers!

He clenches his fist and raises it high, “For the Lin Kuei!”

Áila watches helplessly as fists are raised in the air –  the decision has been made, the future of the Lin Kuei has been set – and her heart begs her to scream, only capable of hearing the warriors all around her chanting out their loyal reply to their Grandmaster.

“For the Lin Kuei!”

***

With each passing day, the Lin Kuei begin to undergo plenty of changes. For one, the Engineering Department is more active than usual; the sound of metals and tools screeches out of their workshop, day and night; tons of materials being sent in, raising curiosity of what they are used for. 

Áila grows wary. The lack of information from inside and outside of the compound is making her anxious. She wishes she could contact her father and ask if their clan, the Sól Eldur, is aware of what is happening, but communication with the outside world is very limited. Her guts are telling her to run away, run to the Wu Shi, and join them, but… what if Sub-Zero is right, and Liu Kang has been ruling Earthrealm under his tyranny, and Scorpion and Smoke are truly traitors?

Gods… the need to find the truth on her own is itching her mind. It doesn’t help that this afternoon, a fellow warrior dropped a hint that only makes the itch worse.

“Do not quote me on this, but I think our Grandmaster is building an army,” said the curly warrior to the masked warrior who was sitting across from Áila, “because I saw plenty of body armor in the workshop – not your usual armor, mind you, these are full metal, with cables and tubes, a very complicated design.”

The masked warrior frowned, “You mean he’s building an armored suit for us?”

“No, an army. Mechanized army. Well, granted, I only saw them briefly when I had to deliver some paperworks, but I know what I saw.”

“That is a bit of a stretch. It can be anything –”

“And I might have overheard Sektor talking to Cyrax about needing a new mathematical model for the brain. Come on, why would they need one if they’re making armors?”

So now here Áila is, sneaking into the heavily guarded workshop, internally regretting her decisions by the second. There might not be anything of importance here, and she’s risking her life for nothing, but she knows she has to do at least something; at the very least she should see what Sub-Zero and his engineers are making.

It is eerie. The smell of molten metal lingers in the air, mixing with a hint of rust, of singed materials, and dampness. Áila tiptoes through the hallway, passing a few doors, hiding from security cameras, until she finally reaches the inner workspace, and –

By the Elder Gods….

Tall, skeletal, humanoid creatures made of metal are lining up in the workspace; one is laid on the workbench with an open chest, displaying a mess of cables and tubes and gears. What should be their faces are nothing but a jumble of unfinished circuitry. Approaching warily, Áila can see some sharp blades on another workbench, they are equipped with weapons? But before she can observe them in detail, a voice startles her.

“-- more time, Bi-Han, or would you risk injuries to the Lin Kuei?”

Without missing a beat, Áila slithers towards a stack of crates. She hears footsteps – the unmistakable pace of the Grandmaster, followed by a more hurried one – and soon she can see the owners approaching. Sub-Zero appears first; his maskless face is seemingly stuck in a scowl; Sektor is following behind him as if trying to get him to stop.

“I understand you want the Cybers to be ready soon, but this – all of this – is something beyond our calibers, but, Cyrax’s team is still figuring out the math. It is paramount –”

“-- for everyone’s safety. Have you no other reason to say?” Sub-Zero finally stops, and he looks around the workspace, until he settles on the metallic body on the bench. He heaves a long sigh, tensed shoulders slumping with the motion. “With the days we are losing, we are one step behind the Shirai Ryu, and they are already on our doorstep –”

BANG.

Áila tries not to flinch when Sub-Zero punches the metal workbench with his bare fist, creating a dent and sharp icicles that spread; Sektor takes a step backwards, jaws clenching. Sub-Zero continues, “Kuai Liang keeps sending his dogs to sniff around our borders, and you are giving me nothing but scraps! Are you that incompetent, Sektor, that you cannot make one of these move?!”

Sektor stammers, “I – I – I could, I could, but you have to know –”

“What?! Safety again?!”

“-- they’re deadly. Bi-Han, the Cyber Lin Kuei will be capable of destroying a major city in one night. I need to have the additional math for the safety precaution, it is for your own safety as well –”

Sub-Zero interjects again, but Áila has stopped listening; she uses the opportunity to slip by unannounced, tiptoing deeper into the workshop; the voices of those two men are becoming further. Her mind is racing, still trying to wrap itself around this new revelation. So this is what Sub-Zero wants, freeing the Lin Kuei from ‘tyranny’ to subject others to his tyranny?

Her guts win; she has to leave the Lin Kuei.

She stops in front of a closed door of an office with Cyrax’s name etched on the nameplate. The math, she recalls, I need evidence. Liu Kang should know about this… Cautiously, she opens the door; it swings without a sound; and she is met by the sight of an empty office. Three large monitors are on the wall, displaying numbers and documents with intricate writings.

Áila steps inside and closes the door. Immediately, she rushes for the desk, eyes flicking between monitors. The tech is next level, definitely something custom-made by Cyrax, but the interface shows similarity to what Áila knows – and by the Gods, she intends to make it work.

After so many clicks and navigating the menus, she finally finds the email function. Without bothering to change the account, she types the email address of the only person in Wu Shi Academy who is constantly glued to the phone.

Sender: cy.4d4 To: jcage Subject: SOS Johnny, it’s Áila. I don’t have much time, but if you can read this, please get to Liu Kang ASAP. The Lin Kuei is preparing some kind of a robot army dubbed the Cyber Initiative. It’s not functional yet, and I hope it never will be, but they said it would be able to level a city in a day. Details in attachments. I’m leaving tonight. If I don’t make it to the Wu Shi in a week, you know what happened.

Áila drags a few recent files to the email before sending it. She makes sure to remove it from the ‘Sent’ folder as well to remove the trace.

She should take her leave now, yet she stands still, reading the open documents on the monitor, how most of them can’t be sent through the email due to the size of the files. She tears her eyes from the screen for a moment to scan the desk for some kind of a hard drive or a flash drive, something portable to bring a copy of the documents with her. Just her luck, a red flash drive is sitting by a stack of papers.

Each second that she uses to copy the data into the flash drive raises the level of her anxiety. Only when it is completely full and packed that she pulls it out, and tucks it into her uniform, into her breastband, right under the fold of her ample breasts where she knows it would be safe and hidden. The hard part is done, now it’s time to –

The blaring of alarms sends her jumping in place.

The once quiet hallway is now echoing with the incessant ringing and the footsteps of incoming reinforcements, one of them is the familiar heavy pace of the Grandmaster. Áila bolts for a makeshift exit – a window – where she throws herself against the glass and comes out tumbling onto the snowy ground of the Lin Kuei compound. Without looking back, without acknowledging the ache and the burn from the small scrapes, she takes long strides and runs.

“THERE!”

“GET HER!”

Shoutings of orders. Crunching snow under their soles. The biting wind whistling in Áila’s ears. She manages to cross the courtyard, dodging a handful of guards. The gate is just right ahead, still opened, unguarded –

A net suddenly collides with her side and envelopes her – what is – when it suddenly shocks her is what gets her to fall. Áila can’t react much when her muscles contract and spasm involuntarily, she can only lie on the snowy courtyard, body jerking against her will. The pain begins to form, then the dread takes over when she realizes this is the end; the footsteps are coming closer; the exit is still further away; Sub-Zero’s boots come to her view, colliding with her face – Áila yelps as pain blooms on the bridge of her nose.

“Well done, Cyrax.” His praise comes out under a heavy breath.

“ Hah , I knew that would come in handy.” A tall Lin Kuei appears next to Sub-Zero, wearing a mechanized vambrace. He presses a button, and the shocking stops; Áila pants aloud, feeling light-headed when her muscles are finally relaxing. “Ah? I think I’ve seen her before. The Carrot-Hair woman from the Wu Shi Academy, right?”

Sub-Zero moves the net away – Áila jerks away from his touch – and his icy hand grabs her around the neck, bringing her face closer to him. He rips her mask with another hand, baring her broken and bloody nose to view. “ Tch , Áila Hávarôr. I should have known you’re in league with Liu Kang. Planning a little mutiny on your own, hmm?”

“N-no –” Áila grits her teeth to stop them from chattering.

Cyrax scoffs, “Still has the audacity to lie. I know you sent something from my office, did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

The grip around her neck tightens, “Is that so?”

Áila repeats, “No…”

“Liar.” Sub-Zero lifts her off the ground, rendering her clawing at his vambrace for purchase, as she feels her lungs burning from the lack of air. She tries kicking him, only to be replied by a firmer grip that darkens her vision.

“Aren’t you going to kill her?” She hears the muffled voice of Cyrax.

Sub-Zero chuckles darkly, “A swift death is not what this harlot deserves. But by the time I’m finished with her, she will be begging for it.”

***

Crimson blooms through the tear of Áila’s blue uniform. Clutching her stomach, she hisses, hunching over as she hobbles backwards; her thighs are shaking, trying to stay balanced while standing on the icy floor. Her vision is clouded by the blood that’s streaming down her crown, that no matter how many times she wipes it until her vambrace is drenched, she can’t remove it. The sight of Sub-Zero, blue and red, approaching her again at a rapid speed –

Áila lifts an arm to block whatever attack is coming. Her defense is futile, and her torso is met by the sole of his boot, kicking her backwards until she finally falls again.

Sub-Zero coos in a cynical tone, “Is that all you’re capable of? Pathetic. You dare wearing our uniform and displaying such weakness.”

Áila rolls over, pushing herself off the floor. She can hear him approaching again, and before she knows it, pain shoots up her side from where he suddenly kicks her. He grabs her hair, pulling her off the floor – hurts… she cries out, angry tears blurring out her sight, as he forces her to look at him.

“Not killing Kuai Liang and Tomas when I had the chance was a mistake, one that I don’t intend to repeat. Another traitor shall not be unpunished! Look at me!” He growls, voice ringing aloud in her ears. A snarl replaces his scowl. “A weakling like you is only good for two things: a bed warmer or a training dummy. So tell me, which one is it?”

The coldness in Sub-Zero’s eyes makes Áila wonder if he is truly the man she used to respect. It disgusts her to think she once admired his discipline and leadership. Her stomach turns at the thought that the Lin Kuei see this inhuman cryomancer and still choose to serve him. Is this what Scorpion and Smoke saw? Is this why they left him?

Shaking with rage and fear, Áila chooses not to answer him.

Her silence is taken as disobedience, and though it gives her a sense of victory – seeing his control snaps and he growls in frustration – the moment is short-lived. He lets her go with a hard shove, and in return, he grabs the wrist of her right hand, and twists it to her back.

“AHH!” Áila screams, feeling the stretch of her muscle mixing with the burn of the cuts she earned from his ice dagger. She can feel the tension of her bones warning her of their unnatural position. She tries to move to alleviate the pain, but Sub-Zero keeps her in place.

“Filthy harlot, your Grandmaster asked you a question.” His voice joins her cries, and soon, his ice dagger joins the conversation as well; Áila yawps, hoarse and painfully, as the sharp edge is dragged slowly against her skin, following the length of her arm. Her free hand grips her uniform tightly, trying to channel the pain. Her legs are kicking, thighs spasming.

The blade presses deeper, “No – no, please –”

“Oh? Now you have manners?” Sub-Zero drags the blade higher. The cold burns and numbing, but when it melts, the pain doubles. “Tell me what you want.”

Áila hisses, shaking her head, “S-stop… Sto – Ngh !” Sub-Zero presses his thumb into a fresh cut.

“Mind your place, you lying harlot.”

“Grandmast – Grandmaster, please stop!”

A deep, devilish laugh echoes in the room. “Say you're sorry, and I might consider stopping.”

“I’m sor – I’m sorry!” This time it is not the blade that hurts her the most, it’s the tight grip around her wrist, threatening to twist it. Her whole body shakes with disgust as she cries, “Forgi – forgive me! Please! I won’t – please! AAAH!”

A crack, followed by the numbing pain shooting up her now-broken wrist up to her heavily wounded arm, and Áila knows her fate has been sealed. Sub-Zero finally releases her, and though she can’t see him, she can hear his victorious chortle as he watches her lying on the floor, too scared to move. He turns her around with a kick; now she can see him towering over her, with wisp of cold dancing behind him, freezing the air.

“ That is one. I shall break every single bone in your body, a day at a time, until you can do nothing but wriggle like the worm you are. Only then shall I reunite you with your family,” he crouches down. Áila jolts away when his fingertips meet her neck. He clicks his tongue, “Better fix your expression for the joyous occasion, for your father shall receive your head in a pretty box.”

***

Áila leans against the bar of her prison. Her hoarse breathing is loud in the otherwise empty dungeon. She cradles her hand to her chest, how swollen her broken wrist has become in mere hours. Her strength is dwindling down, and it terrifies her, for she knows when she is awake, she would have to face the same treatment again. There will be no winning against Sub-Zero, especially not in her injured state.

His voice… The threat lingers in her mind that she wants to cry aloud, for she knows he will go through with it. She can’t imagine it, her father opening a box and seeing her severed head. Her heart breaks for the potential future; if the Cyber Initiative has been completed, no one will be safe from the Lin Kuei; she fears even the Earthrealm Champions would have no chance to win against an army of destruction.

Something is poking her chest. At first, she thinks it must be one of her ribs, probably a broken one that she wasn’t aware of. But it’s small, and rectangular – the flash drive.

There is a chance.

Despite feeling ready to keel over, she forces herself to stand up; there is no way she would die in the enemy territory, dressed in the uniform that doesn’t bring her pride; her blood is not Lin Kuei, never has been, never will be. The power of the sun runs in her, the blessings of her ancestors, the Sol Eldur clan; it sings in her heart, guiding her to do what is right. Now, she needs to stay strong a little while longer.

Áila raises her hand over the lock of her cell. The cold metal won’t budge yet . She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, so deep that her whole body trembles when her chest expands; the cuts on her torso sting from the action. Her father’s guidance comes to mind.

“Breathe in… And out… Good, do you feel that? There is a heat in your belly, and it expands to your chest. Let it spread, my dear, it’s fine, I promise. The next part is going to be tricky, are you ready? …Very good. Do you remember when we went fishing and you caught your first trophy? Lots of reeling, it was exhausting, right? You wanted to give me the rod because your arms felt like they were about to fall off, but I told you to keep going, because I know you got it. And you did!

Remember how happy you were? Yeah, you do? This is going to be like one of those moments. When you need strength, I want you to remember the good times we had. I want you to remember the things you’ve accomplished by being who you are… That’s it. Oh you feel the energy now? That’s it, my dear, let it take over, it’s going to be alright.”

There is a loud pulse accompanying the beat of her heart. It ebbs and flows like the waves her ancestors used to conquer. It’s warm and light like sitting by a campfire after a long windy day. It overwhelms her senses. At first, she can only see the dark, but it gradually becomes brighter, a glow, like the first ray of sun breaking the night. The more she breathes, the brighter her world has become. The pulse is snapping, ready to burst, ready to lash out like the solar storm against the cold, dark space.

And she lets it.

She cares not what she hears or feels – the cracks of metal, the crumbling of stone, the intense heat against her skin – she feels safe. Her heart tells her to open her eyes, and she does, seeing the bars of her cell bending outwards and the stone floor and walls are partially destroyed, still burning red. Her heart tells her to run, and she bolts, not caring for her injuries or the dungeon she is leaving. Her heart tells her to go one way, and she follows, the cold wind fails to caress her skin.

Her heart tells her not to look back, and she does not, until the ground is replaced by snow, until there is no more light, until the shadows of the trees are merging with the dark night, until it’s only her and moonlight, until the adrenaline has stopped pumping throughout her bloodstream that she begins to feel everything.

Áila inhales the cold air of freedom. The snow reaches up to her knees, seeping into her boots, making her bones ache. She persists, one step at a time, not caring if she is going the wrong way as long as she is going further away from the Lin Kuei compound. If what Sub-Zero said is true, then the Shirai Ryu might still be lingering around the borders of Arctika. She just has to find them.

She doesn’t know if her body is cold because of the snow, or because of the loss of blood and adrenaline; if she is still moving or she is kneeling on the ground; if the darkness is because of the night or because she has closed her eyes. She doesn’t know if she’s hearing the howling of the wind or the wolves or the dogs. She doesn’t know if she is still alive or stuck in a dream; if she opens her eyes, will she still find darkness or the face of Sub-Zero? But she does know the feel of the flash drive pressing against her chest, and it gives her a little bit of hope that whether she is alive or dead by the time the Shirai Ryu find her, the truth will still outlive her.

It’s going to be alright… It’s going to be…

***

The smell of agarwood incense permeating in the air rouses Áila awake. At first, it is faint, and she believes she is dreaming. Then she begins to feel the warmth, how stable it is as if she has been tucked under a blanket and the fireplace is roaring. Her eyelids are fluttering, blurry vision seeing a tall, dark red ceiling, with yellow lanterns hanging. She blinks repeatedly, where am I…?

She hears a movement to her left, and she turns to the source. Someone is moving behind a dark red partition; the sound of mortar and pestle, the clinking of glass, the pour of water, makes her realize that they are brewing something. The smell of a familiar tea assaults her senses, she knows that smell, can already taste it in her mouth – that is Madam Bo’s special brew .

Áila sits up gingerly. There is indeed a blanket covering her body – her bandaged body; someone has taken their time to clean her up and cover each and every cut she has. Her broken wrist is wrapped by a thick bandage and placed in a sling that’s hanging from the ceiling. She looks around the room; there is no mistaking it, this is the Wu Shi Academy. The smell is the same as she remembers. The interiors are what she is familiar with, all of the dark red and gold ornaments, wooden instead of stone. It seems her action had not been in vain; perhaps the Shirai Ryu had found her and taken her here – at least that’s what she hopes had happened, because she can’t feel the flash drive poking her chest anymore, and she hopes it didn’t fall out and be left in Arctika.

The person behind the partition has finished brewing the tea. Áila wants to call for them, wondering if it’s Madam Bo herself, but she chooses to wait. She watches eagerly as the person walks out carrying a tray of teacups and a teapot –

But her eagerness dwindles down upon seeing the light blue uniform. Her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach when she sees his face framed by the same shade of dark brown hair and the loose strands. His eyes meet hers, a genuine surprise, and his mouth moves to speak; the same deep, raspy voice comes out, and all that she can hear is the threat.

“I shall break every single bone in your body, a day at a time, until you can do nothing but wriggle like the worm you are.”

Áila shakes uncontrollably, no, this is not real… This is cruel, a mind game, exposing her to a sense of security only to show how wrong she is. She has to get out – she jumps out of the bed, and her legs immediately give away, causing her to fall right onto the wooden floor. Panic poisons her blood as she hears him making a move, placing the tray on the table, and his heavy footsteps come approaching. She pulls herself to move as well, but his boots are already in her peripheral vision, and she tenses, scrambling, clawing away like a defeated animal. The pain in her wrist jogs her memory, reminding her of the unbearable stretch, and her fear grows tenfold at the possibility of it happening again.

“Please no –” she curls on the floor, head bowing down, forehead kissing the wood, “-- Grandmaster, plea – please – I’m sor – sorry. I’m sorry… I’m –” She hiccups, already feeling too hard to breathe. But she persists, not wanting to take any chances of being seen as disobedient again by Sub-Zero. Her cries come out in desperate huffs of breath. “I beg – I beg of you… Grand – Grandmaster… I’m sorr –” she flinches when he takes a step forward, and already she can tell he is going to grab her by the head again, “ Mercy! Mercy! Please! Mercy!”

The door swings open – he’s bringing the guards – and a large hand makes contact with the back of her head, but the familiar voice is what gets her to look up, “Áila!”

Áila’s eyes are widening upon seeing the face of Liu Kang. This… This can’t – why is he here with Sub-Zero? She suspects foul play, but Liu Kang pulls her up from the floor with such gentleness and warmth, and there is remorse in his eyes, and she knows he is truly the Fire God, and she is safe. She clutches his shirt, her cries come out without restraint; tears can’t stop streaming down her face when he helps her get onto the bed again.

More familiar faces come into the room; Raiden, Johnny, Kung Lao, and Kenshi, the Earthrealm Champions. Following behind them are none other but the yellow and gray-clad warriors. “S-Scorpion? Smoke?” Áila rasps.

“Those are not our titles anymore. You can call us by name.” Kuai Liang scans her from top to toe. His expression hardens, sadness is evident in his eyes. “Did… Did my brother do this to you?”

Áila glances towards the light-blue-clad Sub-Zero in the room; he stands in place as if petrified, as if he is not the Sub-Zero they are talking about right now.

Thankfully, Liu Kang intercepts, “I think it is best for me to explain to you what happened. Everyone, please leave the room for now, give her some space.” One by one, the familiar faces are taking their leave, but not before giving Áila a sympathetic gaze. Sub-Zero, however, remains standing in place, until Liu Kang calls him. “Bi-Han, please, give us a moment.”

“Of course.” Sub-Zero replies without hesitation, even bowing down a bit before he begins to walk away. Áila follows his movement, still wary. He stops at the threshold, and with an expression full of remorse, his eyes meet hers, devoid of cold. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

And he closes the door.

***

“Don’t take it to heart, Bi-Han, it’s not your fault.”

Bi-Han glances at Kuai Liang  – not his Kuai Liang, but he shares the same features that remind him of his brother, even the scar.  This timeline still gives him whiplash where he is least expecting it. “Generally speaking, it is still my fault.”

“Bi-Han – our Bi-Han – did it, not you. It’s a pity, his obsession has driven him mad; I can’t believe he would stoop this low. Wounding me is one thing, it was a warning, but I should have realized it was only a matter of time before he lashed out on someone else.”

“At least Áila survives.” Tomas tries to sound positive.

“Barely. The scouts found her half-frozen in the tundra. If they were too late, the Sol Eldur would be building her funeral pyre.” Kuai Liang sighs heavily.

Bi-Han frowns, “The Sol Eldur, is that her family?”

“Her clan, yes. The last time I spoke to them, they were fortifying their village in case the Lin Kuei would ambush them first; I’m not sure if her father can come here when his presence is still needed there.” Kuai Liang sighs again. “But thanks to her, we now know what Bi-Han is planning. Forgive us; the Lin Kuei in this timeline must have stained the name of your Lin Kuei.”

They don’t exchange another word, as Kuai Liang walks away followed by Tomas, seemingly to lament their brother privately. Bi-Han remains standing, watching the life of the garden of the Wu Shi Academy, with a thousand conflicting thoughts running in his mind. He knows it was not him who wounded Áila to such an extent that she fears the sight of him, but the shame and the guilt still weigh on his heart; it is his name, his title, his face – it is him, but not truly him .

He recalls the night when Johnny barged into the meeting with phone in hand, “Guys! You’re gonna want to see this!” he had said, and he read the email sent by Áila. Kuai Liang took charge of the Shirai Ryu scouts to scour the tundra and the mountains. Even the blind swordsman, Kenshi, insisted on going, believing his ancestors could help as well.

At that time, Bi-Han thought what a remarkable person Áila must be, to be within the walls of the Lin Kuei, and still tried to reach out. Her action earned his respect, that at the moment, he innerly prayed to the Elder Gods to see her safety so he can meet this warrior for once.

But he was not expecting to see her being brought in on a stretcher.

She was blue and red, frozen and bloodied, that everyone believed she had been dead. The extensive injuries she sustained were a clear tell that she had been tortured, or beaten up within an inch of her life. Liu Kang had used his power to thaw her just enough to get her blood to run again, and then the monks took her to be cleaned up and patched.

And though no one is pointing fingers at him, Bi-Han knows this is his counterpart’s doing.

The door to Áila’s room is opened – Bi-Han turns to it – and Liu Kang walks out alone. He offers a small apologetic smile as he approaches Bi-Han. “Are you alright?”

Bi-Han returns the question, “Is she alright?”

“She will be. I have explained the situation, though she might need time to process everything. Please do not think you are in the wrong here. Neither of us anticipated this behavior from Sub-Zero.”

“I should have.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Liu Kang hums. “This Sub-Zero is not you, Bi-Han, you can’t expect to understand what he will do next. Our timelines may share similar people with similar lives, but that is where the similarity ends.”

Bi-Han feels his jaws tensing. There is a pull in his heart, tugging at his heartstring, when he remembers Áila’s reaction to seeing him; her expression of pure anguish is still fresh in his mind. “She begged for mercy… Three times, she did, I…” He huffs a cold puff of air, feeling rage forming in his chest at the image of Áila begging Sub-Zero to stop but he carried on nonetheless. What kind of a monster has he become? Bi-Han shakes his head. “Can I… Can I see her?”

Liu Kang shrugs. “Usually I’d tell you to give her time, but this depends on you. Are you strong enough to face her again?” He doesn’t wait for an answer when he adds, “I hope the two of you can find peace in this time of conflict.”

***

The pot of tea on the table is untouched, despite the smell beckoning Áila for a taste. She wants to, she truly does, but the fact remains that the tea was prepared by Sub-Zero – and though Liu Kang has explained extensively of what happened, of how this ‘Bi-Han’ is not the Sub-Zero who nearly maimed her wrist, she is wary nonetheless. She sits still on the bed, trying to quell her thoughts and senses, telling herself that she is safe now, that she is alright, that Sub-Zero will not go through with his threat of sending her head in a box. Her rapid heartbeat is slowing down. Her welling tears have dried.

Then the door slides open, and Áila sees him again.

Their eyes lock at each other for a moment. Her gaze is of fear, but his is of remorse, a palpable guilt. He stands unmoving by the door, which she is thankful for, because her body has begun shaking on its own.

“Bi-Han.” He breaks the silence, voice purposefully made a bit higher than the usual deep raspy tone. “Please call me ‘Bi-Han’. You do not need to call me by any titles. I am neither of those in your timeline.” He pauses, thin lips tensing and relaxing as if he is tasting the words he would utter. “Would you like some tea?”

Áila glances between him and the teapot. The idea of the Grandmaster serving her tea is wild – no, this is not the Grandmaster, this is Bi-Han . She shakes her head, “Are you really not Sub-Zero?”

“I am Sub-Zero, but ,” he hastily adds when she flinches, “I am not of your timeline. In my timeline, I am also Sub-Zero, and the Grandmaster. But I can assure you, I am not like him .”

She can see how genuine he is, how he seems borderline desperate to distance himself from the Sub-Zero she knows. But her body and mind are acting on their own, as tears begin to well up in her eyes again, and they roll down her cheeks when she blinks. “I’m sorry – I know you’re not him , but you look alike, and I – I don’t know…”

“I could change my attire if it makes you more comfortable.”

“No, you’re – you’re already dressed differently.”

“Oh? Is Sub-Zero not wearing blue in your timeline?”

“Not in the same shade as yours.” Áila forces herself to relax. She cradles her wrist tightly, hugging herself to feel more at ease. “Liu Kang said you crossed the timeline to lend him your aid.”

“Liu Kang spoke too highly of me; I’m merely doing my part to help. Sub-Zero needs to be stopped before he destroys Earthrealm – given the information you brought, he is already planning to do it.” Bi-Han takes one step forward, a tentative action, and he looks at Áila as if asking for her permission. She nods, and he approaches quietly; the footsteps are softer, quieter, calculated for her. “I’m here to thank you, Áila. If it’s not for you, we would still be in the dark of what the Lin Kuei are planning. This gives us time to be better prepared.”

“I’m only doing what I’m supposed to do in the first place.” Áila lowers her gaze to the wooden floor – calm down, calm down, calm down. He’s not Sub-Zero. He’s not going to hurt you. It’s going to be alright – “Perhaps I should have done it earlier before they assembled the Cybers, but I –” she closes her eyes when she can see his boots entering her view, “-- I was in denial. I didn’t know which side I should support. Too weak. Too late. I should have known Sub-Zero was wrong when he drove his brothers away. When he –”

The memory flashes behind her eyelids. How Sub-Zero had dragged her to the dungeon by the neck. How he had goaded her to fight him. How, with every cut he made and the punch he landed, Áila slowly lost her hope to survive. At one point, she lost consciousness, and was woken up by the cold tip of the ice blade pressing against her cheek. The flooding memory is too much, breath turning ragged as if she is back in the dungeon trying to breathe the air that Sub-Zero had knocked out of her lungs.

Áila feels a warm hand pressing against her thigh. She opens her eyes, but the tears have blurred her vision. She can see a blurry light blue crouching beside her; she blinks until she sees Bi-Han in close proximity. Yet for once, from this close, she can truly see he is not the Grandmaster. There is grief in his eyes, and pain, as if he shares her burden. There is regret and guilt, and she swears those brown eyes are a bit glossy as well.

“You are not weak.” Bi-Han’s voice comes out as a calming whisper. His fingertips meet her wet cheek, interrupting the stream. “Your bravery will be remembered across all Realms.” Áila sees his lower lips slightly tremble. “There’s no need for you to fear me, I’m not the Sub-Zero you knew. You are safe, and I will try in all my power to keep you that way, and I will never, ever, hurt you.”

“Truly?” Áila rasps, barely audibly.

Bi-Han responds, "I give you my words.”

She doesn’t know who breaks first – is it him who pulls her close or is it her who falls to his lap? – but their bodies collide and he cradles her, surrounds her in his strong arms. She is holding onto his light blue gi, grounding herself to his promise. He is holding the back of her head, and yet for once, she does not tense, does not flinch.

There is no sound in the room but their shared, quiet cries.

[scrompsmilanodiaries]

Outlaws and old friends

FINALLY !! I have a new story !! Word count:2.4K

1984: Since day dot you and Peter have been best friends, as soon as each respected mother introduced you two, you were practically inseparable, Liking the same cartoons, music and video games. You were there for Peter when his mom got her cancer diagnosis, doing everything in your power to help make their lives a little easier... But all that changed... on one faithful night.

1988: You were waiting in front of the school looking for Peter, He didn't show up, maybe he was running late, But later on in the day he didn't show up, He might be sick, so you went to pay him a visit after school. But as you walked to the Quill residence, a poster caught your eye... a missing person's poster. Your heart was shattered when you saw whose face it was, tearing the poster off and rushing back home. Your mother trying to console you while your dad ran his Grandpa to find out what was going on, When his mom passed away he rushed out of the hospital and simply... vanished. Every dad and every night since that you've been hoping to find him, joining on whatever search party there was to find him... for 20 long excruciating years, even when the case was called off, you never gave up, you sat lonesome on the park hill, looking out into the town as memories played in your mind... how you missed him so damn much.

"Where are you ??...." You said as tears began to fall, as you headed back to your car, you had a light shine on you then what felt like you were being pulled into it... and like that the ship that took you whisked out of the atmosphere, little did you know... paths will cross again.

Present day: The guardians of the galaxy have recently finished a mission and were paid very well, all the members were off doing their own things. Peter leaned back in the chair as he stared out into the cosmos, feet propped up on the control console as he listened to his awesome mix tape. Rocket was tinkering nearby with his latest gadget, Groot was getting a much needed rest, Drax polishing his knives was Gamora sat down with a book she picked up a planet or two ago.

Meanwhile further out on a nearby Ravager outpost. The latest prisoner transport had just arrived, Among the group of detainees was y/n, now older slightly stronger and vastly different from the person Peter had known, the galaxy seemed to have shaped them into someone resilient.

Back at the Milano, Peter was flipping through the dozens of jobs through a holographic screen when Rocket spoke up.

"Yo Quill, got some chatter about a Ravager post nearby. Seems they just brought in a new batch of 'recruits' Figure we could shake 'em down for supplies... Or credits"

Peter smirked as he sat up, readjusting the coordinates. "Sounds like a party. Alright gang, to the cockpit, we're making a pitstop"

At the outpost, Y/n was shoved into a holding cell, falling to the rusted floor.

"Easy !!"

"Shuddup you little scut !!" The ravager barked at you. "Wait till Starhawk gets a load of you !!" They slammed the cell door shut as you got up and looked around, trying to make sense of your surroundings, minutes felt like a few hours until you heard the alarms blaring as ravager's ran past your cell in a hurry.

"What the flark ??" You said as you tried to look out.

You heard a few bangs off in the distance, each one sounding closer and closer, making you back into a corner... was someone going to bust you out ?? You didn't even have to think when the door blasted open, making you flinch. Smoke filled the room and with whatever light there was, you could see silhouettes of a few people fill it, leading the charge was what looked like a man in a red jacket and a helmet, he was carrying dual blasters in his hands, striding in like he owned the place.

"Alright folks, you're all free to go. You're welcome, by the way, no need to thank me all at once" Peter said as the prisoners rushed out of the door. He then turned to Rocket who was messing around with a nearby security panel. "Rocket, remind me why you are doing this pro bono ??"

"Because I wanna see if any of these losers have something worth selling" He shot back, not looking away from what he was doing.

As the two argued, it was then the helmet was switched off, giving you a good look at the face... the voice sounding familiar... It made your heart skip a beat... It couldn't be...

"Peter ??..." You said after finding your voice, a voice in a mix of disbelief and hope.

Peter froze mid-argument and slowly turned toward the voice. His brow furrowed as he studied your face. "Wait... no way. Y/n !?"

You blinked to make sure what you were seeing was real and it wasn't a hallucination, nope it was real. "Oh my god..." You smiled as tears began to form in your eyes... after so long he was here... he was right here.

Peter's eyes widened as recognition clicked to him and a grin spread across his face. "Y/n !! Holy crap" He holstered his blasters and took a few quick steps towards you, looking you up and down like he couldn't believe it. "Wha... what... what are you doing here ?!!" He let out a laugh, a mix of disbelief and excitement, clapping a hand on your shoulder gently. "Man, I never thought I'd see you again !! You... Uh, you've definitely grown since the last time I saw you" He chuckled as did you. "Look, this probably isn't the best place for a reunion, C'mon we'll talk on the ship, follow me !!" He motioned you to follow.

As you, Peter and Rocket make your way through the halls, you heard heavy footsteps and shouts closing in behind you, Peter turned, raising his blasters, ready to cover the escape. "They never make it easy, do they ??" He muttered.

But before he could fire a shot, you stepped forward, your movements quick and precise. A combination of punches, kicks and what seemed to be a mastery of hand-to-hand combat, You dispatched the ravagers with starling efficiency. As one tried to pull out a weapon, you quickly disarmed them in a blur and knocked them out cold.

"Whoa whoa whoa !! Since when did they become a freaking ninja !!" Rocket said as he was setting up a makeshift explosive to get the door open.

Peter blinked, blasters still raised but unused, watching you as you dusted yourself off and ran back to them. "Okay... Uh, not what I was expecting, when did you get so... badass ??"

You smirked, catching your breath as you straightened up. "It's a long story, Let's just say the galaxy has a way of teaching you a thing or two"

"Well, remind me never to get on your bad side" Peter said clearly impressed. "Now come, on before more of them show up"

Rocket grumbled softly, still fiddling with the bomb. "Show-off"

As Rocket managed to blow up the door, the trio made it out just in time, meeting up with the others and taking off, hyper jumping to a different planet to rest and lay low. Once settled, you had the chance to properly walk up to him. You took a good look at Peter as the others watched on in mild curiosity. Peter looked older... stronger and sharper in some ways, but still carrying the same mischievous grin you remembered. The reality of seeing him again after so many years hit hard, and you couldn't keep it bottled up anymore.

"I thought I lost you..." You said quietly, voice tinged with emotion.

Peter's grin faltered, replaced by something softer. "Yeah... I thought I lost you too man" He took a step closer, his voice quieter now. "When I got... Y'know, taken all those years ago, I thought I'd never see anyone from back home again. I didn't even know if you were still... I mean..."

He started to trail off, clearly struggling to find the words. For a moment the usual cocky and confident Star-Lord was replaced by the same kid Y/n had grown up with, vulnerable and unsure.

"But you're here... somehow. and, man... I don't even know where to start" He chuckled and spread his arms in equal parts confusion and relief. "How the hell did you even end up out here..."

You chuckled and rushed into them, hugging him tightly as if you were to let go he would disappear. "I was taken..."

"Same way as me huh ??" Peter chuckled as wrapped his arms around you and patted your back. The hug broke as he looked back at you again, shaking his head softly. "After all this time..." He then looked over at the others and cleared his throat, forgetting to introduce you. "And hey, welcome to my... uh, humble space bachelor pad. it's got everything. Uncomfortable seats, a tree, a talking raccoon..."

"Don't push your luck quill" Rocket growled.

"Right... A kylosian muscle head" Nodding to drax.

"Greetings young y/n" Drax politely greeted.

"And we have Gamora" He nodded, respecting her by not telling her back story. "Anyway, make yourself at home, we've got a lot of catching up to do"

Gamora then approached you and smirked a little. "So this is the famous 'y/n' you told us about" She turned to Peter.

He shot her a playful look, pretending to be defensive. "Famous ?? I mean, I might've mentioned them once... or twice. tops"

Rocket snorted, crossing his arms. "Try every time we pass a planet that looks like terra."

Peter rolled his eyes then turned back to you with a shrug and a sheepish smile. "What can I say, You're hard to forget"

"As with you" You gently nudged him soon finding yourself yawning, needing a nap badly.

"Come on, you've been through a little slice of hell, I've got a spare bunk in my quarters. It's nothing fancy but it's better than passing out on the floors" Peter chuckled.

He led you all the way to his quarters, a small but surprisingly cozy space filled with trinkets and gadgets from Terra and beyond. Taped on the wall was a faded picture of Peter as a kid holding what was probably the last Polaroid picture he had taken before he left Earth. You couldn't help but notice it as you sat down on the guest bed, your body finally relaxing.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure Rocket doesn't mess with your stuff" Peter said with a grin as he leaned against the doorway. "Well, I'll try anyway. Get some rest" He gave a playful salute before closing the door behind him.

You laid your head down as your body slowly began to wear off the adrenaline from the escape, for the first time in what felt like forever, You finally felt safe, a small smile tugging your lips as you drifted off.

After a few hours, You eventually woke up and lifted yourself off the bed. Rubbing your face softly as you yawned, the Polaroid picture caught your eyes again. You stood up and walked over to it, your fingers brushing the edges of the worn tape keeping it in place. It was surreal seeing a piece of Earth, something so familiar, in the middle of a spaceship lightyears away from home. You chuckled softly as you glanced around the room, spotting his walkman resting on the table next to a stack of cassette tapes. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia, reminding him of all the times Peter had blasted his favourite songs, whether you liked them or not.

The door then slid open suddenly, and Pete poked his head in, a grin already on his face. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty's finally awake !! How was the bunk ?? Not too many springs stabbing you in the back, right ??"

He stepped fully into the room, holding a steaming mug of coffee, space coffee at least. "Figured you could use this, you always were a zombie in the mornings" He grinned.

"Thanks..." You gently took the mug and took a sip. "So... How's things ??" You chuckled awkwardly.

Peter leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched you with a small smile, He could sense the awkwardness. 30 years was a hell of a gap to bridge.

"Where do I even start ??" He shook his head softly as he sat down on the bed. "It's been... chaotic, to say the least. You're lookin' at the galaxy's most wanted outlaw-turned hero-turned sometimes idiot. Saved a few planets, blew up some stuff, got double-crossed more times than I can count, and somehow ended up babysitting this crew" He vaguely gestured outside. "But honestly... It's not all bad. I've got a ship and a decent crew... when they're not driving me insane. Plus a bunch of killer mixtapes to keep me company. How about you, what's the story with y/n ?? The last time I checked, you weren't exactly spacefaring material at all." A glint of curiosity and genuine care was evident in his eyes as he sipped from his own mug.

You sat down next to him as you began to explain your side. "I was walking back to my car when outta nowhere this ship comes barrelling down. I didn't even have time to run. The next thing I knew, I woke up in some lab with a bunch of other captives... Turns out, they were bounty hunters who figured Earth had 'rare' specimens..." You took another sip as you set your mug down. "I managed to escape... not without a fight... and after that, I kinda just adapted..." You paused as you looked at him with a faint smile. "Never thought I'd run into you out here though. I figured you were long gone. Either dead or living it up in some space palace somewhere"

Peter's smile grew a little warmer, The old friendship shining through despite the years. "Guess you're just as scrappy as I remember"

"Thanks... You as well" You chuckled.

At that moment you unofficially became a member of the guardians of the galaxy, for the first time in years, you felt at home, and Peter couldn't have been happier to have his best friend back by his side.

A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed it !! also consider this as a free invitation to request any form of extension to the story, whether it be Peter, Rocket, Groot, Drax or gamora I'm down.

Taglist: @callofdudes