#plan the escape (sirens and tremors) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

echos-newlegs · 4 years ago

Note

Hello again! I'm here to fullfill my promise of asking for a Rex one based on your prompt list, especially excited after the beautiful work you did with the Tech one <3 So how about 46 for our Captain? I had thought of a Jedi!Reader situation, bit it's up to you really, just have fun!!

Double Trouble

Ahh thank you, I'm always open for writing for my boy Rex 🥺 send as many asks as you want m'dudes 😌💕 but thank you sm, that means a lot tbh!

Rex x Jedi!Reader: "Isn't it illegal?" "I mean, probably?"

Warnings: slight angst? No established relationship. Y’all just like each other. Anakin teasing you and Rex.

Word count: 1.9k

“You’ll never get what you want from us.” Rex spat as you stood in the corner of the room, strapped up to a machine. Grievous only laughed at that. His gravely, robotic voice echoing threw your ears. It annoyed you more than anything. How he seemed to think he could get the whereabouts of your base from you and the captain. “Oh, I don’t expect them to crack, clone.” He mocked. Leaning into Rex’s space. The Captain keeping his ground. “Why do you expect I would?” He snapped, and that made him laugh again.

He only tittered as he walked between the two of you. “It doesn’t take a Jedi to sense a connection between the two of you. I saw the way you tried to save the General over here.” He mused with a sigh. “It’s orders, to save the Jedi.” Grievous shook his head, hands resting behind his back. “No, not like this. General Tano got hurt and you cared, but not like when they get hurt. What are they to you? Do you really think a Jedi could love a clone like you?” He taunted, Rex darting his eyes down.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. A habit you often found yourself doing due from hanging around the 104th most days. “You’re wasting time, Rex and I are merely friends, I’m not even his General. I serve another Battalion under the watch of General Plo, you’d think after all our encounters you’d know this, droid.” You drew out the last name with a smirk. Though that smirk quickly faded when you felt your body begin to tingle. A surge of electricity shooting through you that had your fists and jaw clenching. Eyes shooting open and then closed as you arched your back with a shriek.

“Stop it you’re hurting her!” Rex screamed as he fought against his restraints to get to you. Grievous was right, Rex felt attached to you. You could even say he loved you, but he would never admit to it. He only hid back the feelings— Which seemed to only make them worse.

Grievous hummed in amusement. Stopping the shock. Watching as your body went limp. “Your attitude never seems to change, General. You hang around Skywalker too much.” He wasn’t wrong, between hanging around Skywalker and Wolffe your attitude was horrendous. “You say that each time we meet.” You scoffed, shooting a glare up to the general.

“Now, if you want your Jedi to live, you’ll tell me where the base is.” You didn’t want Rex to tell, but you knew he would crack at this rate. Not only the stress of the war was on his shoulders, but you could sense how he felt about you. You were quite fond of it, until now. Realizing it was a weakness on both ends. Rex was a good friend of yours, and you admired everything about him, but this? This worried you, if maybe you should have distanced yourself like your consciousness told you to a month ago.

“I won’t,” Rex said, after catching your look of worry. “Not to Seppie Scum like you,” He spat. You gave him a small, worrisome smile as he gave you an apologetic look. ‘It’s okay,’ You mouthed to the Captain as another surge shot threw your system. Voice straining as you screamed. You could feel the tremors run in and out of your body. Gasping for air as you fought to keep your body functioning. Then it all went dark.

Rex panicked when you went limp. His eyes shooting wide. Tugging at the restraints as he let out a choked cry. “General!” He exclaimed, and Grievous let out a cackle. “How interesting, A clone and a Jedi.” He scoffed. Leaning close to Rex. “I would have never guessed.”

When you woke up you were on the cold floor. Body sore and stiff. Your throat felt like it was in flames. Rex holding you in his arms. Noticing this as your vision cleared. “Am I dead?” You spoke hoarsely, with a crooked smile. Rex smiled softly, glad to see you still had your sense of humor. “Thankfully, no,” You sighed, which hurt even more than breathing. “Did he get anything from you?” He shook his head ‘no.’ You nodded, moving to sit up. The captain helps you up to lean against him and the wall. “Do you think anyone’s looking for us?” You asked, and Rex nodded. “For you? I’m sure Plo and Anakin have everyone searching far and wide.” He added as you lean your head against his shoulder.

He smiled faintly, your hair tickling his neck a bit, though he kept his hands to himself. He had to remind himself as you dozed off again that you were doing this because you were hurt. You wouldn’t lean on him any other time. This meant nothing.

Rex was right. The moment that General Plo got word that your mission with the 501st went south he and Anakin were racing to make a plan— a semi chaotic one. With an equal amount of quick decisions and thorough thinking between the two. You were like Anakin's little sibling, he wasn’t about to let you spend any more time with the Seps than you had to.

When you woke up again you were being nudged awake by Rex. Sirens were blaring and droids were running too and fro. “General, I believe our rescue is here.” Rex spoke. That got you smiling. Helping yourself off the floor as he pulled you up. “How are we getting out?” You asked, but it seemed the moment you did a droid was approaching your cell. “You’re being transferred, both of you.” The news made the two of you give each other a glance. Almost as if the undiscussed plan was working itself out in front of you. “Is that so?” Rex asked as the door opened and the droid approached you both with restraints. Once close enough Rex took the opportunity to attack.

Once the droid was practically dismembered and the Captain now held his blaster. It gave you the opportunity to realize you had no saber, or cloaks, and Rex was stripped of his armor and weapons. Left in only his boots and blacks. “What’s the plan, General?” He asked, and you groaned as you stretched. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d like my lightsaber back.” He smiled at that, “I think I know where they stored them, too.”

The two of you take off down the hallway as quick as you can manage. You attempt to fight the pains shooting up your leg as you clung to the captain for dear life. His hand rubbing your side here and there. Though you thought nothing of it.

“There,” he stated.

He pointed over to a doorway a droid just exited. “They stopped us here, took our weapons and armor and took them through there.” He nearly whispered in your ear.

You pondered, thinking of what you could do. Until you got an idea. “Let’s go over there, then.” You spoke. Watching as he furrowed his brows at you. “General,” “that’s an order.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Helping you over to the doorway.

You hacked into the system. Opening it with a breeze. Something Anakin taught you along the way. The two of you squeezing into the storage room. Spotting your lightsaber in almost an instant. “We need to be quick, Captain.” You informed him as you lean against the wall. Hooking your holster to your hips. Pulling on your robes and some of your other items that were taken.

You looked over, watching as Rex made quick work of his armor. Your eyes dragging over his form a bit too long. “General, everything alright?” You thought he was oblivious to your actions. Until you saw him nervously rub the back of his neck. You couldn’t see the blush that his tan skin hid, but you could feel it. He was nervous in a sense, and you thought it was adorable.

You smiled, shaking your head. “All is good, now let’s get out of here.”

He nodded at your comment. Holding his blaster with one hand, and you with the other. “Captain,” you spoke, and he looked over to you. Watching you as your eyes scanned the room. “How much do you trust me?” You asked, holding up some detonators.

His eyes fell onto them. Lips turning up into a smirk. “With my life,” “good.” You spoke. Looking from his eyes to his lips. The two of you share a lingering stare.

“You guys are painful to watch, just kiss already.” A familiar voice speaking from in front of the two of you. “Miss me?” Anakin spoke as you and Rex caught his form. “Not one bit,” you quipped. Making Rex have to bite the inside of his cheek to hide a chuckle. “I know you did. Don’t lie, now, whatcha doing with those detonators?” He asked, and you smirked. Holding one between your fingers. “Blowing this bad boy up, of course.” “You got my attention.”

Anakin knew you wanted to blow something up. You and Hardcase were known for having that destructive personality. Rex honestly loved how you seemed to bond with each one of his brothers in some way or another. They all loved how for a Jedi, you were nothing like one. You were different, in big ways and they loved it.

Anakin ordered Rex to take you back to the rescue ship anyways with your condition. They needed to run once the detonators were set, and well— you weren’t in any condition to be running. You understood though.

You watched from the cockpit once Anakin returned as the ship blew. Grievous had escaped, as per usual. But you destroyed one more of his ships, successfully. “He’s gotta hate you by now.” Anakin commented, and you snickered. Still using Rex to lean on. “Isn’t it illegal?” He asked, and you looked up to him. Watching as his eyes fell to yours. His lips so close to your own. “How many ships of his you’ve destroyed.” He joked, his voice lowering a bit. You smirked, shrugging. “I mean, probably? But since he’s a Sep it doesn’t count. Double negative, that’s how it works, right?” Rex snorted, rolling his eyes. His hand absentmindedly snaking around your waist. “Sure.”

You were on cloud nine. The affection was euphoric, but leave it to Anakin to ruin a moment. “So what’s going on here?” He asked, and Rex looked at him with a shocked expression. As if he forgot he was there. Removing his arm from you as you pushed back from him a bit. “What do you mean?” Rex asked, and you played with the end of your sleeves. “I don’t have to be a Jedi to sense the tension between you two, are you..” he trailed off. Looking back and forth between the two of you. “Screw—“ Rex nearly choked and your face heated up to a max. Both your eyes going wide. “What? No! No, Makers no—“ you corrected, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Then Rex, buddy, you need to do something and make a move. Y/n won’t, and I won’t tell anyone.” Walking past the Captain, patting his shoulder. “You’d make a cute couple, I could see it now.” You were going to kill Anakin when the ship landed, it was final.

#captain rex x reader #commander rex #rex x reader #captain rex #rex #star wars #star wars writing #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper x reader

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dorimena · 4 years ago

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𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘

I should've been writing Bakugou’s late birthday post, but after watching the new episode a few days ago, I couldn’t help but finally confirm to myself that yes, I have a growing liking towards Kuroiro and couldn’t help myself. So, enjoy?

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; kuroiro shihei

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.6

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; afab!reader, handjob, masturbation, kuroiro’s a voyeur for you, subby!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; sex toys mentioned, aged up character; Kuroiro is 18

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; there isn’t much Kuroiro content, as far as I managed to find here, less if it’s smut. So, here we go, hopefully I make more. I still have much to learn on how to probably correctly portray him, in other words I feel like he’s a bit ooc.

He likes to hide in the shadows, whether as a harmless prank, to travel from one place to another, but it’s mostly to just easily sneak into your dorm room at night.

Right now, though, he’s still lurking in the shadows of your room, just watching you study at such an ungodly hour, just because you were upset with him accidentally scaring you the other day. He didn’t mean to, but the damage had been done. At least you didn’t leave your dorm room light on to stop him, just sitting there, all pretty, with the desk lamp.

He has no plans leaving the comfort of the shadows yet, not with how it helps not only hide his cute, creepy smile, but to not show off how hard he is. And for what?

All because you’re wearing the shortest shorts you could ever own, and he loves how your legs look with them on; so much longer, increasing how enticing and inviting they look, whether for him to trace words of dramatized affection or leave bite marks before he pleases you to sleep.

Then again, he’s not here to woo you with poetry; he’s here to apologize, for maybe the 6th time this week, and maybe convince you to cuddle on your bed before he’d have to sneak back to his room. After all, he has been leaving you small trinkets and gifts all this time since the incident, and you’ve never really uninvited him over, simply barely acknowledging him before you whisper ‘goodnight’, as if you’d think he’d never hear.

It kind of hurt, but he couldn’t blame you, and maybe it’s time he stops trying to scare you as a form to rile you up into some ‘fun’. There are other ways, right? He can come up with another scheme to make you angry enough to maybe choke him harder, scratch him harder, maybe slap him harder?

“Y/n~” He calls out your name as melodically as possible, as if trying to act like a siren to lure you here into the darkest corner of your room. All he sees, though, is you shuddering before hunching yourself more over your desk.

You only move your head in acknowledgment, humming softly as you turn a page in your book to continue highlighting. This makes him frown, racking his brain for any remark to make you look over here, look over at him. Please.

“My beloved, look at me?” He calls again, using the pet name you enjoy hearing; but you still don’t look over.

So, being the little shit he can be, he calls you out by something he rarely does, unless he’s meticulously teasing you for something in return. A certain name he knew made you flattered but embarrassed.

“Hot stuff, look at me.”

And that has you turning around to look at his favorite corner, narrowing your eyes to catch the sight of his white eyes and teeth. To many, this would make them shit themselves, but for you, it angers you just how proud he looks.

“What did you say?”

There it is, now you’re angry and riled up. And he shudders, feeling tremors going up his body until it reaches his head. He peeks his head out, his white hair finally being seen as he hums.

“Hot stuff, but this time, come here?”

You stand, not before grumpily placing your highlighter in between the pages and pushing your chair quite the distance from your desk. Walking towards him, you cross your arms as you stand intimidatingly close, staring at him as you quietly wait for whatever poem he has prepared this time.

You’ve heard them all, wondering if he knew how you’d stop whatever you were doing to listen closely what he whispers, murmurs, sings out.

But instead, Kuroiro leaves from the shadows and pulls you into a tight hug, a hand resting on your head as he murmurs how sorry he is, how he’s come to reflect his past actions from the incident and previous ones, finally taking into consideration your feelings and possible thoughts. But not without telling you how he’ll compromise his pranks with you as it spices up your relationship from the others in the dorm. He leaves out the part about riling you up until you choke him during sex.

Even if his voice sounds so quiet, so calming in your ear, you can’t help but shift a bit in his embrace until he suddenly goes quiet, a simple hitch of his breath grabbing your attention. What happened?

“Shi?” You ask, looking at him. Whatever anger was in your system quickly drained, in fear you might’ve accidentally hurt him. And what sucks about his quirk is that you can’t ever tell when he’s blushing, but only guess with how his eyes and mouth look.

You feel him grind back- wait, what?

Somehow looking down, you come to see a tent growing in his white sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“How… curious.” You hum, placing your hands on his hips to keep him still.

“Is this new or did you come with this? Is this why you’re apologizing so directly?”

He stutters, his embrace tightening as he subtly tries pressing himself harder against you. He doesn’t deny what you’re telling him, but he also doesn’t confess it’s the truth.

You’re giggling, and even though it’s cute, like, really-cute-he-can’t-wait-to-smother-you-in-kisses, he groans at your slight teasing.

“My beloved. Don’t laugh at my predicament! I cannot help but give way to the temptation placed in front of me.”

Oh, how lovely. But he has a point. You did put on these shorts to simply rile him out of the dark instead of lurk in and around it, but clearly you were still lured in by his, uh, interesting choice of nickname.

“Why’d you call me hot stuff?”

“To get your attention, which is apparently clear to me, it very much worked.”

“You wanted my attention to deal with you or your friend?”

“Both.” Humor sounds in his voice upon your question, pressing his forehead on your shoulder as he joins in on you staring at, well, his erection.

“Well,” you start, startling him as you push him against the wall, “do you want me to talk dirty or speak Shakespearean?”

“Oh, for the love of- mmnh~”

Now, he’s not… much of a sub, not really. But he compromises so well, so nicely, that even if he is a sly motherfucker, he can also somehow weave his agreement in something through his words. Or actions, like now. You’re in command, you can do as you please, he owes it to you. Either way, he’ll still be able to ask you about choking him.

But your thigh rubbing up and down so teasingly against his crotch? Not what he expected. Since when do you start slow?

But you’re starting with that for now, wanting to milk out what you could of his sounds, his twitches, his reactions. You love it when he shivers.

“Stop teasing.” Kuroiro breathes out, letting go of the hug as his arms fall against the wall, his back and head creating a soft thud as he stares at your head. You haven’t looked up yet, but better for him. He doesn’t… want to look too creepy now, not with how he’s blending so well with the dark..

“I thought I could do what I want?”

“Yes, but- hah~ Stop that!”

“Stop what? This?”

“Interrupting me- ah fuck.”

You keep pressing yourself harder and harder against him, the speed never-changing, but it’s enough for him to already let out such airy moans and small groans. His hips are slowly lowering themselves to keep adding more pressure, moving them subtly to fasten the speed. This doesn’t skip your attention.

“You’re this turned on?”

“Can’t help it.” A soft groan leaves him as he grinds down a certain way, enough to make his knees feel a little weaker. “Needed you, days ago. Couldn’t…”

Oh? He’s embarrassed?

“Couldn’t what?”

“... make myself cum- hnn.”

You giggle again, the sound making him lay his palms flat on the wall in case he’d need to escape something embarrassing. But you know better than to tease him verbally, not wanting to make him become too shy that he’ll ignore you, whether or not you’re his lover now. He’s always been and will be such a shy boy, yet a sneaky bitch. Such duality.

You stop moving your leg and hold him as still as possible, lifting up your head to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t look or shy away.

“You’re cute, you know that? You couldn’t look me in the eyes before we dated, and now you have the audacity to come every night asking for forgiveness, but for what? Truly because you miss me, or just to get your dick wet and satisfied?”

You’re waiting for an answer, your hands diligently moving to pull down his pants slowly.

“I… I missed you, my beloved. I felt incredibly lonely. Even the moonlight that’d enter my room wouldn’t sing me the same song your humming would, or reflect such beauty you seem to radia- holy shit.”

It took what you had of self-control to not laugh: such words being interrupted by such a vulgar phrase. Good thing he’s not heavily religious, or that Ibara was around. She sometimes… worries you, with her affinity with religion.

Your hand is fondling about with his brief-clad dick, making sure the fabric seeps out the precum you could feel, but sadly not see. For some, this could be a turn off, not being able to see a dick; but for you, it just adds to the mystery, adds with how sexy you could even see Kuroiro be.

There’s no more words exchanged, not with how you’re enjoying the feeling of his hips pushing themselves to make him feel more of your hand and thigh, have you do something to add more to his pleasure. His white sweatpants are hanging around his thighs by now, his underwear soon enough being pulled down enough to follow.

A huff of ‘hurry’ leaves his mouth, leaving you confused about what the hurry is about? What happened to being patient? Or is he seriously so hung up with not being able to cum this week that he just needs to? Wait, that's actually hot.

Nodding your head, you smile up at him as one of your hands wraps itself around him and the other pressing its palm to the tip of his dick.

“I’ll be quick, just hold on, yeah?”

Nodding, his eyes immediately close when you squeeze him, your palm slowly figuring out what motion would make him moan faster.

When he moans your name out loud with the circular motion, you press a kiss on his lips before doing it again, and again, and again. Faster every time, spreading his precum around while your other hand tries to pick up into a steady pace without messing up the rhythm.

Kuroiro’s using the back of his hand to keep himself from whimpering out, moaning, huffing and groaning but not wanting to embarrass himself further with such a weak-like noise. But seeing him struggle with that issue is enough to let it go, pressing your knee between his legs and against the wall to keep yourself balanced.

Faster, faster, faster. Your hands seem to keep moving impossibly faster as the room slowly fills with wet sounds, soft thumps of his hips helping place more rhythm.

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, keeping them shut even if he feels like watching what you’re even doing with him, to him.

But instead, with his eyes closed, his brain decided to bring up what he saw a few days ago:

You didn’t even notice he snuck into your room, or bothered turning off your desk lamp as you lay shamelessly on your bed, pussy out for him to watch as you work a black dildo in you and your other hand placing a small vibrator on your clit.

And you were whining out his name so shamelessly, as if you knew he was watching. (And you did.) Again, you were fucking yourself with a black dildo, just as black as him. And that should’ve been enough for him to maybe relieve himself right then and there, or even beg for forgiveness as you grew closer and closer to your own orgasm. Fuck him, not a dildo! Or let him fuck you while you choke his dirty talk out of his throat!

Instead, Kuroiro quickly left and travelled back to his room, throwing himself on his bed as he almost ripped his pants and underwear off, fucking himself in his hands as he tries to convince himself that he’s fucking you, and even with a precum covered hand, he tried recreating how you usually choke him, claw at him, scratch him.

And he would very much like to fuck you now, but with how you’re touching him, the way your palm is grinding itself incredibly fast around his tip and your other hand furiously jacking him off, he thinks it’s not worth the idea yet. Not when he knows you’re forgiving him, somehow.

He’s about to cum anyways.

He’s trying to grab the wall, as if the darkness would be something he could grab onto like a bedsheet to keep him still, but it does nothing, just make his hands ‘melt’ into it.

His hips are chasing after your hands yet pulling itself away as his knees try not to knock into each other. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, soft sighs leaving with a small moan as an accessory.

And his eyes? He finally opens them, looking from the ceiling to then catch you staring up at him with your own smile, making his reminiscent one fade away as a whole new wave of arousal travels up his body.

Shuddering harshly, he feels his eyes cross a bit as a repeat of his earlier flashback plays, and plays, and plays. The sounds, the scene, the smell of your arousal-

“Y/n- I ahh think- close?”

“Sorry, didn’t understand that. You’re close?”

He just nods rapidly, blinking as he tries to keep his eyes opened to make eye contact, because for him, it’s sexy, it’s intimate, it’s reassuring.

He hears someone letting out weak whimpers, but he thought it was you, until he lets out a louder one and startles himself.

“Again, Shihei, again.” You moan out, feeling your underwear stick itself more to your cunt.

And if your moan of his name wasn’t enough to make him whimper your name back, he’s sure your sweet, sultry encouragement is enough to make his eyes cross once again, forcing him to close his eyes as his hungry hips just downright try fucking your hands without any shame.

He’s grunting how close he is, moans straining in his throat before being caught up in an intake of air, his whole body entering a strong tremor before small yet growing waves of them make him shiver. Without him realizing, his body’s slowly ‘melting’ into the dark, sinking into it as he groans out how he’s cumming.

You watch, taking your hands away from his dick as he spurts thin trails onto the floor, some onto his lowered sweatpants. But even once he’s done, his dick is still hard and twitching.

“What?” He’s confused. He’s not supposed to stay hard. You’ve already made him cum, but why does he feel so unsatisfied?

“M-my beloved?” He whispers, suddenly realizing how he’s more into the walls than pressing against them. Taking himself out of the dark and leaning back against the wall, he brings a hand to your face just as you grin wickedly.

“I think I ruined your orgasm.”

Well shit. Now what, you’re gonna try overstimulating him now? Well, with the way you're going on your knees and bringing him into your mouth, enough to make him wince yet moan, he’s pretty sure tonight he won’t get to fuck you.

#bnha smut #mha smut #kuroiro smut #kuroiro x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖐𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖎𝖗𝖔

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caspermarvelimagines · 3 years ago

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The Girl Who Cried Wolf

Summary

Riley Roberts is a lycan. She didn't want to become one but fate planned something different for her. After escaping her obsessive creator, she moves to America under a new identity and under surveillance of none other than shield. But things are twisted even worse when a portal opens in the sky above Stark Tower.

|| MASTERLIST ||

Word Count: 1,646 AN: This chapter went through many different directions and changes. But I feel that I've captured the beginning that I wanted and I hope you enjoy it too!

____

| 1 |

The siren screeched and bled crimson. Silver shackles bound her to her prison, they confined her. Her body contorted as she pulled and the metal scorched her skin. She screamed again; it was all she could do.

Riley shot up. Her throat burned and itched; her eyes were wide as they darted about the bare room. Her skin glistened with sweat as she trembled like a timid child.

I’m fine. I’m safe.

Minutes passed as she clutched her head, caught her breath and reality settled back into her mind. Her hands fell from her face as she inhaled through her nose. The carpet beneath her was warm but the floor was hard. There was an orange hue to everything within the room as the lamp, that sat upon the brown drawers, tried its best to keep everything illuminated. Riley looked over to the bed that sat across the room against the far wall, devoid of a pillow and the duvet that stuck to her legs.

Riley peeled the sheets off her legs and groaned as she stood up. Her bedroom didn’t hold many possessions – what was there to own besides a pillow and her sheets? The walls were mostly untouched and just as the landlord had painted them that horrid teal. But Riley had hung up one photo frame with a picture of a tree – her therapist recommended that she add life to her home. Riley had also brought a Pothos plant that now resides on the windowsill in her small kitchen.

She needed to tend to that.

Riley used the bathroom to shower and freshen up, washing away the night’s tremors and grime. Riley then dressed herself for the day ahead working in the local bar – even though her shift wouldn’t start for another six hours. But she knew she’d go for a walk, get lost along the way and then make it in time to meet Wendy outside the building so they could open up.

Riley tended to her Pothos plant before filling her kettle and waiting for it to boil. The hiss of the heating water filled the small kitchen, like static on an old TV. Riley placed her brown mug on the counter, dropped a teaspoon of instant coffee into it and got the milk from the white fridge ready.

A thump, thump, thumping came from her neighbours above – newlyweds. Riley remembered seeing the bride and groom as they mistook her apartment for their own, she was just glad they hadn’t caught her at her worst that evening. Though they seemed like nice people, the continuous romping wasn’t quiet and Riley sadly had a front row with her hearing.

Riley rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger and huffed as the kettle finished. She filled the mug and added her milk before replacing it back in the fridge. Bread, cheese, butter, cucumber, ham and last night’s leftovers faced her as she grimaced in distaste of eating. She did however take out the last of the ham and put it in a bowl before walking past the counter to her living room and placed it on the windowsill next to the opened window. There was a stray black cat that was accustomed to visiting Riley and meowing until she was fed.

The bowl is always emptied by the time she comes home and she will sometimes find ‘Mittens’ – on account of her little white paws – sat on either her bed or couch waiting for head scratches.

The living room is almost as barren as Riley’s room. A brown leather couch that she picked up from a yard sale on one of her many long walks – the man’s face was killer when Riley paid for then lifted the couch to walk home. A second-hand TV atop the glass unit from Miss Grimshaw next door with flower stickers stuck to the silver casing. A rug that Riley avoids touching with her bare feet due to the itchy fabric – she didn’t have the heart to throw it out nor give someone else the scratchy annoyance. And then a silver clock that hung above the TV unit and read six-thirty six.

Earlier than usual.

***

Riley set off for work after an early visit from Mittens. She sat and cuddled with the cat for nearly three hours, both in a tranquil peace from the world. For the past several months that Riley had lived in her small apartment, she had been working at Wendy’s Bar. An independent business ran by a wise but stubborn woman the place was named after. She reminded Riley of her own mother, stubborn but compassionate.

It made her miss home.

Riley weaved through the other people that walked the streets, most going to their own jobs, some out for a run, others walking with their children in pushchairs and holding their little one’s hands. At the cross lights Riley came to a stop as the New York traffic took over the roads.

A mother with a pushchair and a young boy came to a stop next to Riley. The toddler stood on a platform on the pushchair, encased between his mom’s arms. He looked up to Riley and tilted his head, his blonde hair fell in his eyes before his mom combed it back. Riley smiles at the young boy and he returns it by sticking his tongue out.

“Hunter!” The mother scolds. She turns to Riley with a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, he’s just cranky. He usually has a nap now.” She apologies. Riley shakes her head, chuckling.

“No worries, my nephew used to be the exact same.” Riley assures her.

Riley helps the woman over the curb when they crossed the street and then they parted ways. Riley still donned a smile on her face as she came to the entrance of the bar. She peers through the window to see Wendy starting prep for the day ahead. Riley knocks on the glass and bites the inside of her cheek when Wendy almost throws the lemon slices across the bar.

“You little shit, my heart can’t take you!” Wendy laughed when she opened the door and Riley side stepped in. Wendy locked the door again.

“You should consider becoming a baseball player, got hell’a throwing arm,” Riley teases. Which earns her a slap upside the head.

The two women set up the bar like clockwork, weaving between one another and helping each other with the odd task here or there. Two more bartenders came in, Marcus and Tilly, and the bar was open for the day.

***

“Come on Mr Gardener,” Riley grunts as she swings the old man’s arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home.”

The man was incoherent. Tilly had been serving since open and it was now half past four – the man couldn’t hold his alcohol. But he was ever such a kind soul before and after he had drank, though he could never walk – barely stand – without help at the end.

Riley hauled Mr Gardener into a taxi and told the driver where to go. Mr Gardener thanked Riley and then he disappeared into New York traffic.

“Thanks again, Riles,” Wendy praises while pouring a pint for a customer. Riley nods and walks back behind the bar to continue serving.

Another hour passes by and more customers come and go.

The hairs on the nape of Riley’s neck stand on end and she freezes as she cashes up an order. She inhales and her senses fizz with anticipation. Behind the usual hustle and bustle of people talking, car engines reeving, coffee machines whirling, heels clicking on the pavement there was something else. A void of static like an old TV but shrouded in echoes.

Riley turned just as the customers were gathering at the windows at the front of the bar. Each were gasping, screaming and shouting. Riley hoped over the bar and strode towards the door, pushing it open and looking towards the source of people’s horror.

There was a hole in the sky. Of all the things that Riley had seen in her life, there was a hole in the sky. Gigantic creatures, aircrafts, aliens all came through the blue portal of hell.

“Get inside!” Wendy stood beside Riley as she hollered for any passing civilians to get inside the pub for safety. Riley began to get people inside too. She saw the mother with her baby and her son across the street and immediately ran over to help. Riley picked the baby out of the push chair and led the family into the pub.

“Stay away from the windows!” Riley hollered at everyone and the scared bystanders moved as far into the back as they could. Riley glanced around at everyone as they huddled together. Mothers and fathers holding their children, couples clinging to one another and complete strangers trying to assure one another that it was going to be okay.

Riley stood with the mother and Hunter, holding the small baby in her arms. Hunter clung to his mother and the baby fussed in Riley’s arms.

They were sitting ducks. Riley knew this wasn’t going to keep them safe forever. Riley could do something, but at what cost?

People screamed as the windows shattered and the twisted alien beings came in holding their weapons and pointing them at the crowds. Riley covered the baby with herself before passing the crying child to her mother. Riley saw Wendy at the front of the crowds as they cowered upon each other and Riley didn’t think twice when one of the creatures pointed their weapon in the elder woman’s face.

Wendy stood and faced the creature down, not flinching when it aimed at her. It was the growl that ripped through the air that drew her attention to the beast that leaped onto the creature and began to rip it to shreds.

#avengers #avengers imagine #tony starkxofc #tonyxofc #tony stark x ofc x bruce banner #tony stark x ofc #tony stark imagine #tony stark fanfic #tony stark #bruce banner x ofc #bruce banner imagine #bruce banner #polyamourous #the girl who cried wolf list #werewolf

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

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Long Night in the Valley Chaper 3

“A mind affecting quirk?” asked the secretary. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” said Recovery Girl, grimly. “If I had realized, I would never have left him alone while I reviewed the scans. I thought it was something physical. By the time we locked the campus down, he was already gone.”

The secretary found herself shaking, slightly. Even retired, even barely able to use his quirk, the idea of All Might under mind control, under a villain’s control, was terrifying.

“I’m going to put you through to the chairman,” she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. “I’m sure he’ll mobilize every available resource.” She pressed the button and sagged in her chair glad she didn’t have to make real decisions.

Then the calls from the people in charge of the Musutafu mental-invasion training activity started rolling in. As she answered the phone, she couldn’t help but think that All Might probably would have benefited from the training.

Of all the things Tsuyu had expected to see while waiting to be directed to her room for testing, Midoriya fleeing from a group of heroes was not one of them.

True, Midoriya had yet to come out of a class trip or event without some kind of trauma, but she’d been expecting villains to be the cause. Not… whatever this was.

Kaminari and Aoyama, started forward, only to be held back by Shouji, who just barely managed to catch his phone (he’d been playing a Pokémon game with Kouda).

“Hey!” said Kaminari. “What gives, man? Midoriya is in trouble.”

“Yes,” said Shouji, quietly, the lips on his extra arm barely moving, “and look at who he’s in trouble with.”

“We can’t just go barreling in,” agreed Tsuyu. “We need to find the rest of the class and get out of here.”

After all, if one member of 1-A was in trouble, they all were.

Aoyama placed his pointer finger and his thumb over his chin. “I have a better idea,” he said, “what do you say to a ~*sparkling*~ distraction to help our friend—and us—escape?”

Tsuyu followed his gaze and swallowed a sigh.

People should really stop leaving electrical boxes out in the open like that. It was basically a signed invitation.

(Izuku did not notice the power outage that occurred a mere fraction of a second after he burst out of the center’s doors, but if he did, he would have been grateful for the chaos it caused and the precious time it bought him.)

“That’s the room they were in,” said Fumikage, Dark Shadow screening him and the rest of his group from view. “I believe that Hagakure was—” he hesitated “—there,” he said, finally.

“Are you sure we should go after them?” asked Mineta. “I mean, it’s Aizawa-sensei and the top of the class!”

“Since Midoriya is the only one who came out,” Yaoyorozu, coolly, “it’s probable that they’re either asleep or heavily outnumbered. Especially considering how out of character it is for Midoriya to leave them behind.”

“Unless he was targeted and was trying to draw them away,” said Satou.

They considered that silently for a moment.

“Bakugou’s group was in that room,” said Jirou, pointing with ear jack. “They’ll definitely be asleep by now. Not to back away from a fight, but if we really think our class is in danger, we should get them out first, of only because they’re probably not at the center of this.”

“Hmm,” said Tokoyami. “The fate of Bakugou, much like Midoriya, is often shouded in darkness.”

“I hate that you have a point,” groaned Jirou. “Yaomomo? You’re kind of in charge here. I think it’s your call.”

Yaoyorozu made a rather pained looking face.

“We need to find everyone who hasn’t gone into a room yet, and we need to gather information,” she said. “Maybe this is just a misunderstanding.”

Fumikage, for one, rather doubted it.

This Deku was different again. Older than the ones they had seen so far.

He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on when Shigaraki grabbed him at the mall, including that ridiculous ‘t-shirt’ t-shirt and the bright yellow backpack. Ochako swallowed uneasily and looked back at Suzuki.

Did Deku’s appearance reflect his understanding of the situation? Did he think that what was going on now was like what had happened then?

Was he right?

(A part of her, a part that was very used to Aizawa’s logical ruses, was still hoping this was part of the course.)

“We already have proof you’re the traitor,” wheezed Suzuki. Despite sustaining so many wounds, beyond being out of breath he was currently unharmed. Even his suit only had a few streaks of dirt on them.

“Deku’s not a traitor!” shouted Ochako. “He’s risked his life for so many of us, he’s hurt himself so much-! It’s ridiculous you could even think that.”

Alright. Perhaps the fight and general situation had Ochako more on edge than she’d thought.

Or, perhaps, she was just tired of this jerk badmouthing one of her best friends.

“I think,” said Aizawa, splitting his attention between Suzuki and the new Deku, “that anyone who actually knew Midoriya would tell you the same thing. Assuming you asked.”

“What are you really here for?” asked Deku. “Are you really working for the Commission?”

Suzuki wrinkled his nose momentarily, apparently affronted, but then started to laugh. “You think we didn’t? They came to us. Aldera Middle School ring any bells? Why don’t you tell your new friends you used to be—”

He cut off as Deku moved past them, smoothly dodging Aizawa-sensei, and performing a textbook-perfect takedown of Suzuki, complete with handcuffs and avoidance of Suzuki’s skin.

(What was Suzuki’s quirk, anyway?)

“Wish I could have done this back then,” muttered Deku, hauling Suzuki around. “What is your problem?”

“You can’t hurt me here,” said Suzuki. “Are you scared of the truth?”

Aizawa pulled Deku away from Suzuki.

“Midoriya,” he said. “You are Midoriya, right?”

“I…” Deku’s face scrunched up. “I think so? It—I think it’s more complicated than it should be.”

Ochako saw Suzuki get up before Aizawa did, and leaped forward, aiming for his face. She missed. Suzuki’s fingers brushed against Deku’s cheek and the world shredded around them.

Aizawa had known going into this that a dream world would be, almost by definition, illogical and annoying. He had simply underestimated how illogical and annoying.

Oh, the fight with maybe-Midoriya was straightforward enough, even factoring in his control of the environment. But the aftermath was another story.

Aizawa knew he’d been hit. He’d been hit, solidly, several times. Yet, he didn’t feel so much as bruised. He was also, for some unidentifiable reason, wearing a suit, and his students, except for Midoriya, who had disappeared yet again, had been put in unfamiliar school uniforms.

Speaking of which, they were now standing in front of a middle school, the beach nowhere in sight.

Adding that to the fact that at least some items (e.g., Midoriya’s handcuffs) seemed to disappear when no one was paying attention to them…

Aizawa’s headache was rapidly growing. Not to mention—

“He practically admitted he wasn’t Midoriya! What more do you want?” demanded Suzuki, who seemed to be ignoring the fact that he was being stared down by three hostile, combat-trained teenagers.

“I want,” said Aizawa, “to wait out the clock. Midoriya isn’t attacking us anymore, and I don’t particularly feel the need to snoop around in his head.”

Suzuki’s eye twitched. “Saito isn’t waking us up until the end of the course, a full six hours from now,” he said. “You want to have this stand-off for six hours, or do you want to find something that will help you protect the rest of your little gremlin students?”

“What do you mean, until the end of the course?” demanded Iida, adjusting his glasses. “She’s supposed to let us out in an hour!”

Aizawa sighed, but kept his gaze fixed on Suzuki. Iida could be a little too fixated on rules sometimes.

“So? No one will miss you until the lunch break, and that can be easily covered up!”

“We should call the school, too,” decided Momo. “I think Principal Nezu likes Midoriya.”

“Huh? Really?” asked Satou, surprised.

Momo nodded. “Whenever Midoriya is brought up at student council meetings, he sort of… chuckles. He does that with Aizawa-sensei, too, come to think of it. And All Might.”

“That’s terrifying,” said Mineta.

No one said anything, because they didn’t really want to agree with Mineta, even about something so mundane.

Sirens, from an ambulance called for Saito Yume, were just audible in the distance.

Somewhat farther away, the principal of UA realized that calling the Hero Commission about Yagi’s disappearance might have been a tactical error.

In the Hero Commission headquarters, the chairman determined that, no, this was not going to be covered up easily, and started making alternate plans.

“Then we’ll wait for the whole six hours,” said Aizawa. “Consider it endurance training,” he told his students, “for stakeouts and whatever.”

“And whatever?” asked Todoroki.

“If you have to deal with this nonsense now,” said Aizawa, “as students, it’s only going to get worse when you’re pros.”

“Ah,” said Todoroki, nodding sagely. “I see.”

“Look, if you’re all so sure he has nothing to hide, what’s the harm in looking?”

“Kids,” said Aizawa, cutting off whatever responses the three of them were about to snap out, “don’t engage him.” This was going to be a very long six hours. Or five hours. It had to have been at least one hour since they went under. Right? It had to be, if the universe was fair.

Oh, who was he kidding?

Suzuki sighed, closed his eyes, and straightened his tie. “I apologize,” he said. “The appearance of that… projection unsettled me, and I have not fully explained why the Hero Commission has decided to act as it has in the case of Midoriya Izuku.”

“Who cares?” asked Todoroki. “The commission sucks.”

Undeterred, Suzuki continued. “I’m sure you have all noticed that Midoriya Izuku displays two quirks.”

“So do I and Aizawa-sensei,” said Todoroki.

“I what?” asked Aizawa.

“Your floaty hair thing.”

“That’s just an emitter effect,” said Aizawa.

“But it works on your capture weapon,” said Todoroki. “Midoriya showed me a diagram, once. It was very convincing. He said not to bring it up though, because you were probably hiding it from… villains… oh…” He trailed off as he looked back at Suzuki.

This was not, Aizawa reminded himself sternly, the time to have an existential crisis.

He was having a talk with Midoriya when he got out of this.

“A secondary quirk that he only discovered in high school? You must see how far fetched this is. Not to mention his first quirk only—”

The ground rumbled. Abruptly, they were surrounded by bright, approximately human-shaped blurs of color. Because why not?

Among those blurs of color ran tiny middle school Midoriya, because, again, why not?

Using the distraction, and something that had to be related to either a quirk or Suzuki’s greater experience with Saito’s quirk, Suzuki escaped their little circle and ran after Midoriya. Aizawa’s students and, thus, Aizawa followed.

“Come again?” asked Vlad King, rubbing the inside of his ear. “I think I must have misheard you.”

“Yagi stole your car,” repeated Powerloader, sounding completely done with the world.

Vlad, still uncomprehending, blinked up at his coworker. “Is there, like, a student called Yagi?” he asked, trying to process the diametrically opposed concepts of ‘Yagi’ and ‘stole’ before even getting started on the ‘your car’ part of the sentence.

“No.”

With despair, his mind finally registering that the Symbol of Peace had stolen his car, Vlad said, “But he doesn’t even drive!”

Vlad King’s car was, objectively, rather terrible. It was an antique, almost a hundred and fifty years old, manufactured when regulations were loose in the wake of the dawn of quirks. It was loud. It was ugly. The gas efficiency wasn’t terrible, but it came at the cost of high emissions. The air conditioner was broken. It had no back up camera.

It had three things going for it. One, it had a functional safety system. Two, the ceiling was high enough for Toshinori to fit. Three, it had no GPS or tracking system attached to it.

True, the vehicle’s other features meant that the car would be remembered and tracked sooner or later, but the point of this exercise was to get to Izuku as quickly as possible and then away from his pursuers as quickly as possible. They’d leave the car somewhere after that. Perhaps with the keys still in it. Perhaps somewhere disreputable.

… That would be rather mean to Vlad.

Eh, thought someone who may or may not have been Toshinori. They were doing him a favor, honestly.

(It was a good thing Six knew how to drive. Seven and Five with their fancy mobility-oriented quirks were useless. Don’t even get him started on Mr. ‘I’m going to live in the woods and isolate myself from society’ and Ms. ‘driving laws can’t have changed that much in a hundred and fifty years.’ Unbelievable.)

Toshinori stopped the car. The back door opened and Izuku slid in. He shut the door and Toshinori started driving again.

They didn’t speak to one another because they didn’t have to. Izuku started undressing, pulling on the clothes Toshinori had picked up for him quickly. Hero merchandise, mostly. Bright but anonymous. Few would expect fugitives to wear something like this.

“It’s soft,” said Izuku, quietly, rubbing the edge of the hoody between his fingers.

“I’m glad you like it,” said Toshinori. In the rearview mirror, Toshinori could see Blackwhip twine around his hands and wrists protectively. His headache let up, slightly.

They’d hide until the quirk wore off, and then they could determine their next steps.

The commission president smiled at the heroes he had assembled. It was a nice smile, an expressive smile, one he had worked on for a long time. Right now, it said that he regretted the circumstances that brought them together, but that their presence cheered him, nonetheless. It said that he was putting on a brave front while delivering grim news.

It had the desired effect. The heroes leaned forward, with the exception of Hawks. (Damn that truculent child. Perhaps he was due for some retraining.)

“I regret to inform you all that former number one hero All Might, also known as Yagi Toshinori, has been abducted by the traitor Midoriya Izuku through the use of a mental quirk we believe he obtained from the villain All for One, publicly known as the Scourge of Kamino.”

Toshinori and Izuku had spoken to one another concerning hiding places and rendezvous points on several occasions. It was a necessity when engaged in a shadow war with a two-hundred-year-old monster and continued to be so even after the war had come into the light.

Toshinori currently owned most of them, through various serpentine paths, shell corporations, and semi-fictitious holding companies. One could potentially, in theory, with great effort, reach Toshinori if one started with one of the hiding places and follow the horribly convoluted paper trail, but it was infinitely more difficult to start with Toshinori and arrive at one of the safe houses. Mainly because Toshinori had so many completely legitimate holdings.

Some of these places were older than they were, inherited, much like their quirk. And the very oldest of these technically wasn’t ‘owned’ by anyone at all. It didn’t exist on paper. It had been made by an unregistered quirk during the dawn of quirks, when the government was in shambles. Only two living people knew about it now. Even All for One had never found the place.

“We’ll be safe here,” said Toshinori, unnecessarily, as he opened the door. The hinges were silent. Toshinori had oiled them the last time he had restocked the pantry.

Izuku nodded, then yawned. Everything about today had been exhausting, and his brain still wasn’t working right.

But was it really okay for him to sleep, to rest, when he had left his friends behind?

Why had he even done that?

Could he even call himself a friend when-?

Toshinori put his hand on Izuku’s shoulder, and Izuku felt his concern soak into his bones. The others were with him. Uraraka, Todoroki, Iida, and Aizawa were not in danger, they reminded him. Izuku (Nine) was. The others were in good standing with the commission, more or less, and would likely remain so. For all Suzuki’s posturing, it appeared he had no real evidence against Izuku’s friends, otherwise he would have used it for blackmail by now.

Besides, Izuku wasn’t really the one to make the decision to run.

Izuku frowned. Was he? Wasn’t he?

There was a bed in the little hidden house. Toshinori pulled a set of sheets out of a small cabinet and began to make it. Izuku retrieved and fluffed the pillows. It was interesting. He’d never actually been here before. Toshinori had only told him how to get here, and yet…

But the others had been here. One and Two, mostly, but Three had come a few times, and Four had gotten a lot of use out of it before he left the city entirely. Five hadn’t really needed it—he’d been a pro hero, after all—but he’d kept the place up, just in case, and passed it on to Six when it was time. Six had been underground and had kept this place his ace in the hole, his last fallback. Seven had learned of it from his notes since he hadn’t lived long enough to tell her properly. So much had been lost…

Izuku shook his head and focused on the bed. Wordlessly, he was coaxed into it. It would be better to sleep, for now. His attention wouldn’t be divided, and Toshinori would keep him safe.

“Trace,” said the commission president, looking at the second-youngest hero present. The woman was just a little bit older than Hawks. “With your quirk, I think you know why we called you in.”

The woman, who usually worked as a rescue hero, nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’ll need something of either Midoriya’s or All Might’s, and their last known location. We’ll be able to rescue All Might in no time!”

#bnha #fic #my fic #long night in the valley #I keep posting this at midnight #when no one will see it #oh well #it gets done when it gets done #boku no hero academia

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haxorus-imp · 3 years ago

Text

Planet of the Megafaunas - Part 1 - Among Us & Reader fic

-Summary-

During a powerful solar storm, the Skeld is forced to crash on an uncharted planet in an unknown solar system. The crewmates survive the crash, but are now stranded on an unknown world with undocumented lifeforms living on it.

During their stay on the planet, it seems that the crewmates grow to understand that the creatures on this planet are larger than they ever could've predicted. Making this world a frightening place to survive on.

Not only do the crewmates have to worry about survival on this terrifying planet, but it also seems that they have a set of unwanted guests as well...

Fortunately, the crewmates have obtained a rather strange group of allies that don't mind sheltering them in their equally large shadows. --

-Chapter 1: The Stranded Crewmates-

The Skeld was currently in a state of total chaos.

The Captain of the Skeld, White, grunts harshly as he tugs on the piloting sticks in a vain struggle to regain control of the Skeld.

He curses under his breath as he jerks on the duo sticks, trying to regain balance as the large ship enters a tailspin.

Red sirens flashed as the emergency alarm blared loudly throughout the room, filling the cockpit with auditory warnings as the co-captain, Black, also struggled to regain control.

The captain grits his fanged teeth as he feels sweat drip down his brow, the pressure of the situation settling on his shoulders as he feels the sticks kickback, nearly jerking his arms out of their sockets.

Regardless, he still keeps a firm grip on the controls. Fighting the battle of endurance with tenacity as he struggles to catch his breath between the jerking sticks and his own exhaustion.

This was supposed to be an easy job...

How did such an easy-sounding task go so horribly wrong?

It started out as such a good day. No imposters were detected onboard and they had an easy mission for once. All they had to do was deliver supplies to the Polus outpost in their local galactic system.

Out of all the things that White could’ve predicted...an imposter attack, a meteor shower, a fuel leak...it all meant nothing compared to what happened.

It was the new pilot.

A new pilot that happened to be semi-dyslexic. The same dyslexic pilot that punched in the wrong warp codes and sent the Skeld flying much farther than it needed to. Right into the heart of a powerful solar storm at that.

The crew had no time to figure out where they were. The moment the hyper-jump was over, the Skeld was then suddenly being thrown around in the galactic gale, as if it were just a mere toy. To make their situation even worse, the hyper-jump used up much more fuel than necessary. Meaning that the ship was slowly losing power while the storm battered it. It was a battle of wills...and the storm was slowly winning it.

The pilot responsible better hope they die in this storm, cause White wanted nothing more than to scold and berate the one responsible for getting the crew into this mess! White grunts as the ships’ control bucked again, making his arms strain as he fights the solar winds for the controls. They wouldn’t last long out here. He needed to think of something quickly! He hurriedly looks over to his co-captain. “Black! Give me a status report! Now!” White shouts over the blaring alarm to his co-captain, meanwhile the color-coded crew panicked as the ship rocked from side to side. All desperately trying to help and not fall over each other in the process. “The ship is losing power rapidly, Captain! We’ve lost an engine and communications are offline! We can’t send out a distress signal and the reactors are starting to take damage!” Black yells back, panic lacing his voice. White cusses as he focuses his gaze towards the windows that lined the cockpit. Trying to see something... anything that could give his crew a chance to live. If the reactors fail, they would all be done for. The outside of the ship was hard to decipher. It was nothing but a black void with a blurred image of stars and a large object he could partially make sense of. The shape was large and seemed to be spherical in appearance. It was also colored primarily blue...with some touches of green? Judging by the smeared white lines going across the surface, White could only guess that those were possibly...clouds? Was it...a planet? White strains to angle the ship in a way that would give him a stronger visual on the large object that was seemingly on a crash course with the ship. In fact...it was a planet... It was a bright blue with greenish-tinted large landmasses scattered across the surface. It even had white coating the top and the bottom of the planet. It was practically beautiful. However, even with all of his years as an experienced captain, White had never seen this planet before. He studied the Mira HQ planet log of all known planets routinely and he was very certain that this planet wasn’t documented in that booklet. That gave White a worrisome realization.

This planet was undocumented...that meant that there are undocumented lifeforms living on the surface. That also meant that there wasn’t a docking station nor other Mira employees that could help them. An uncharted world with unknown dangers. Just...who knew what kind of creatures called this large world home? White was certain that it was risky to land there.

But, what else could he do? He had two options and neither of them had good outcomes. Option one, he could descend to the planet, hopefully they would all survive the crash and with any form of luck they would find some help. On the other hand, they would become stranded and picked off one-by-one by deadly local creatures with no way home. Option two, stay in the solar storm until the reactors fail and they all get blown to smithereens. In the end, White had no other choice. It was either the planet or certain death. He looks back over to his frightened co-captain. “Black, listen! I see a planet up ahead! I need all of our remaining power to go into the shields and our remaining engine. Get the crew into their crash-seats, we’re going in for a rough landing!” White commands. Black blinks at him in confusion before realizing what he had planned. “WHAT?! Have you lost your marbles, White!? We don’t know where we are and you’re risking stranding us on a planet at a time like this!?” Black bawks in response. White tightens his scarred gaze from behind his visor. “Well, it’s either the planet or we all stay in space until our reactors get punctured and blow us all to shit! So if you have a better idea, I would love to hear it!” White was met with uncertain silence before Black nodded and began to do what he was ordered to do. White nods in response and taps into the com-link that was in his helmet. Hurriedly tapping into his crew’s communicators. “Purple, Pink, Orange, Blue, Red, and Green! Abandon your post and get to your crash-seats! We’re going in for a planetary landing! Buckle up and hold on!” White demands. He was met with a chorus of confused and frightened wails, but the crewmates did what was commanded of them. Rushing to their respective seats and strapping themselves in. White was shaking with adrenaline as he fought the galactic gale to get the ship to angle towards the planet. Fighting to stay on course as the planet drew ever closer. Panic grew within himself as the looming unknown drew nearer, but he kept on target. It was too late to turn back now. This was their final gambit to escape certain death. He kept focusing on his target, finally getting close enough to feel the planet’s gravitational pull latch onto the ship, slowly ripping the controls away from White. His heart thundered in his ribcage as he held onto the piloting stick, fighting to keep the ship upright. Suddenly, the ship is suddenly impacted. A violent tremor shakes the ship as White grunts and feels the controls buck again. The Captain looks around in confusion as the Skeld begins to enter the atmosphere at an angle, making the fight for control so much harder. “Fuck’n hell, what was that?!” White demands into his co-captain’s com-link, keeping his iron grip on the controls as they jerk about wildly. Black sputters about incomprehensibly in a mild panic before finally becoming able to speak once more. “We hit an unidentified metallic object, sir! It has caused damage to our left wing! It’s now falling apart!” Black screeches back, practically hyperventilating from the intensity of the situation. White grunts in understanding, with no time to wonder about what they possibly struck. The Captain tried to keep as calm as he could, but the sheer chaos of the situation was now starting to eat him from the inside out. He could feel the panic bubbling up in his stomach as he grinds his teeth to keep from falling apart like the rest of his crew. Still, he endures. He focuses his trembling hands on the steering apparatus, keeping his gaze on the planet just ahead. He adjusts his aim to a landmass that was just coming out of the darkened side of the planet. Trying to think ahead just enough so that they’re daylight was maximized while on the surface. If they all lived, that is. Then, the entry into the atmosphere began. The distinct rumbling of entry begins as the Skeld is slowly encased in a small layer of flame. The outside temperature of the ship slowly rises as the Captain steers it through the thickness of the atmosphere. With the added strain of entry and the heating up of the metal, the damaged wing warps even more and twists in the winds that zip past the crashing ship. Pieces of debris and shrapnel peel off of the ship as the cockpit feels the rise of temperature. The Captain bravely holds on as he continues to steer through it all. The integrity of the left wing begins to fail as the ship rolls slightly, just as the surface of the planet breaks through the cloud coverage. Then, the rest of the ship begins to fail. The remaining engine could be heard fizzling out and the left wing was ripped off with a loud scraping sound. The cockpit is suddenly illuminated with red lights as the screen for the deck begins to display a ‘crash imminent’ warning. Flashing brightly as White struggles to focus. He picks out a place that wasn’t too crowded and with a high vantage point before locking the ship into position. Keeping his aim on target. Once close enough, the Captain tunes into his com-link, his hand hovering over the shield activating button. “CRASH LANDING! BRACE!” White shouts into his communicator. After that, he slams his fist down onto the button and the shields activate. White and the rest of the crew grip their seats and their seatbelts, preparing for impact. Just moments later, the Skeld is assaulted with the local foliage. Large branches of tall trees snap like twigs as the Skeld tears through them. Breaking and stripping metal off of the Skeld in return. The horrible scraping and clattering of metal and breaking branches fill the crews’ ears as they hold on for dear life. The Skeld continues its descent, violent tremors shaking the crewmates like ragdolls as they finally hit the surface of the planet. The bottom of the ship makes contact and the force slings the crewmates around, the ship digs up a large trench as it continues its path. Turning it at an angle as the ship rips up flora, grass, and small shrubs.

It’s path of destruction seemingly unstoppable.

Finally, it skids into a grove of trees and right into the path of a large sturdy old oak. The ship slams into the side of the tree, causing a small tremor to echo throughout the thicket after the impact. The tree, while shaken and bearing a fresh scar on the trunk, continues to stand. The Skeld finally halts before it lets out a loud creak and lands on the ground with a rumbling boom. Settling at the base of the large old oak. The Skeld finishes righting itself on its base before breaking down altogether. Just as inky black smoke poured from the wounds it sustained in the crash landing. Meanwhile, on the inside of the ship, the crewmates stayed glued to their seats. The first to come out of their stupor was the Captain. He opens his scarred eye before looking around and finally letting out the breath he was holding. His aching fingers finally releasing the piloting chair and the pain slowly reviving his thought process. He survived the impact...he was still alive. Regardless, his mind immediately went to the thought of his crew and he looked over to his co-captain in a moment of fear. He was quickly relieved, however. As Black was responsive, looking around in confusion before making eye contact with White through his visor and flashing him a thumbs up. With a quick few hand movements, White unlatched his seatbelt and stood up from the piloting seat. Looking back at the other crewmates with concern. White was relieved to see his crew all moving and looking around. While stunned and jostled from the rough landing, nobody was missing and everyone was alive and conscious. Pink, the medic, was quick to undo her restraints and began a quick check over of the others. Aside from bruising, slight shock, muscle aches, and a cut on Oranges’ hand...the crew was okay. After a quick check over from Pink, the crewmates began to gather around White. Including Black, as he finally found the strength to get out of his piloting seat and stand next to White. The crew began to talk amongst themselves. Concerns, worries, and confusion were all prevalent in their tones. White merely just looked outside. The cracked windows of the Skeld were one of the few things that stood between them and the unknown. White, understandably, was concerned. Thankfully, even from where they crashed, he could tell that the skies were slowly becoming illuminated with the rising sun. He just hoped that most of the horrors on this planet would be nocturnal. Even in daytime, he would make sure that his crew stuck close to the Skeld. It was still an unknown planet after all. Who knows what lurks out there? Caution was their greatest ally in times like these. Especially if they all wanna get off this planet alive. However, his thought process was quickly interrupted by the sound of a heated argument quickly filling up his helmet. White is brought back into the now as he turns his head to pay attention to what is transpiring between his crewmates. “--if it wasn’t for cross-eyes over there, we wouldn’t be in this hell’o’va mess!” Blue, the communications officer, angrily barks and accusingly points a finger at Purple.\

“Out of all the damned pilots they coulda given us, we get butterfingers over ‘ere!” Blue continues. “I...I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to!” Purple, the pilot, tries to defend before being interrupted by Blue again. “Dammit, ya purple putz! We’re all gonna die because of ya! Sorry ain't gonna fix that! Why I oughta--” Blue continues to scold, approaching Purple threateningly, causing him to flinch back in fear. At that moment, White felt like he needed to intervene. However, the Red crewmember quickly steps in between the two of them. Causing White to continue to observe, watching with growing concern. “Woah, woah, woah! Blue! Ya need to take a chill pill, mate!” Red, the weapon specialist, quickly intervenes.

Preventing Blue from taking another step closer to Purple by placing a hand on his chest. “Whaddya mean ‘take a chill pill’ ?! Do ya not understand what that purple-clad idiot has gotten us into!?” Blue snaps at Red. “That doesn’t mean ya start attack’n ya fellow ‘mates, Blue! That’s only gonna make our situation worse! Tha last thing anyone needs right now is an injured ‘mate to pile on top of everything else!” Red argues in return. Blue seemed to be fuming, but before he could get another word in, he was cut off by another crewmate. Orange quickly speaks up from the sidelines, despite currently having a cut on her hand that was being patched up by Pink. “Ya gotta let some things go, Blue. Otherwise, our percentages of surviving will drop lower than they already are. Purple made a mistake...and while I have half-a-mind to be angry at him too, I still understand that we need to stick together to get out of this-here mess.” Orange, the electrician, advises.

She then flexes her bandaid covered hand, sighing in relief as the wound is finished being patched up. Pink could also be seen nodding in agreement with Orange. “I agree vith Orange. Attacking a fellow crewmember isn’t gonna help us in any vay.” Pink softly speaks up, packing up the medkit she was using. “Many thanks, Pink.” Orange quietly says, flexing their doctored hand and standing up. Pink merely nods at her in return. Blue lets out an aggressive huff at the lack of support before finally backing off and leaving the trembling Purple pilot alone. Just for extra measure, Red continues to stand between the two of them.

That was when White decided to speak up, loudly clearing his throat as the other members looked towards him. He stands tall in front of them all and begins a quick meeting. “Aside from that little squabble, I see that you are all in good health. Which is excellent, seeing as we all survived the crash. From our report of damages to the ship, our communications office is out of commission. Meaning we can’t radio for help nor send out a distress signal.” “Not only that, but I have also realized that this planet has not been documented by Mira HQ. This means that this planet is uncharted. This also means that we have no collective idea of what dwells here. As we are the first ever to make contact with this planet, I would advise you all to take on the utmost caution.” “I will warn beforehand that whatever dwells here might be capable of eating you. Do not approach and stay out of sight if you can. We also don’t know if this place has been infiltrated by imposters. As mandatory protocol, I will request that each of you be accompanied by at least one other crewmember should you go out and about. Stick as close to the ship as possible while I and the co-captain assess the situation.”

“We will be putting finding food and drinkable water as our top priorities. If we are too careless, all of our rations will be used up well before a few days pass. Also, from witnessing your squabble earlier, I can’t stress enough how we all need to look after each other in these dire times. Whoever caused the accident no longer matters now. We are all in this together and if you all want to get off this planet alive , you need to work together. Please. Keep calm and try to be sophisticated during this unfortunate event. Stay together and stay safe. I will now give you your tasks.” “Orange, go check on the reactors. We need those stabilized as soon as possible. Pink, report to the medbay and see what supplies you can salvage. Blue, go see what the extent of the damage is on the communications admin. Red, clean up and patch up any leaks or messes that you can find. Purple, go check on our rations and see what survived the crash. Me and Black will go outside to fully scope out the Skeld for damage. That is all.” Once he finished the briefing, Blue still looked at Purple with an angry gaze while the others began to mill about and do their assigned tasks. Purple expressed nothing but shame as he slinked out of the room to avoid the other crewmembers and their judgmental gazes. White could only sigh in despair.

As much as he wanted to be angry at Purple too, the crash happened and he’s just glad they were all alive and okay. Even if it was his pilots’ fault. But now wasn’t the time to be looking to ostracize a fellow crewmember. However, White took a brief mental count and realized something puzzled him. The others seemed to have spoken up during the fight and made sure to do their tasks, except one. Where was his last crewmember? With a slightly worried look, White’s eyes quickly scan the room. Then, White’s gaze finally caught sight of the last crewmember hanging around in the background. Green, the botanist and zoologist, was quietly looking out the cracked windows of the Skeld. Seemingly content, as if he didn’t hear the arguing of the other crewmates at all. White could see a mixture of intrigue and wonder filling up his gaze as he stared out the window. Watching as the sky was illuminated and the foliage around the ship was lit up by the planets’ sun. White could see the obvious desire that was in Green’s eyes, even with his visor on. Green was probably the most passionate about planetary explorations and the youngin was pretty knowledgeable in his field. Which meant that White had to be very careful and keep a close eye on the intrepid explorer. White took a deep and slow breath as he looked over to Black and motioned his head in a way that obviously stated that Black should follow him. White carefully approaches Green, once in a close enough distance, he speaks up. “Green!” White calls out, shocking the botanist out of his obvious daydream. “Ah! I...er...yes, sir?” Green hurriedly replies, looking at his Captain in anticipation. “I need you to come with Black and I. We need a botanist to scope out our surroundings and to pick up some samples for us to study. We also need your help to locate a source of food.” White explains. Green seemed to slowly come to realize what White meant and nodded in understanding. Following the two captains without much hesitation. The young botanist had barely paid the arguments and speech any form of attention. Instead, his attention was focused on the rich greenery that lay just beyond the cracked windows of the Skeld. He felt excited, just like an intergalactic explorer. Ready to document any strange plants or alien creatures for the first time in his career. He just silently hoped that nothing too threatening was too close to the Skeld for comfort. -- Once the three stranded crewmates were geared up and ready for the outside world, Green had taken notice of something... strange . Even in the pale morning light, Green could tell that something was off with the environment they were sheltered in. Everything looked...much bigger . One of the obvious signs of the unnatural size of the foliage was the large tree that the Skeld had crashed into.

While the Captains were currently investigating the damage that was done to the ship, Green was standing a bit of a way off to the side. Observing the sheer size of the nature surrounding them all. The large tree itself stood taller than any MIRA building that Green knew of. The large branches blocked out the sky and formed the sheltering canopy that hung above them all. Allowing only a few sunbeams to pass through the leaves. As well as the spidering roots that cradled and spread out around the Skeld. Giving the tree a wide and complex network of roots and connections that probably went on forever under the ground. Even the shrubs and blooms on some of the nearby plant life were bigger than normal. Green even decided to use his own body for scale. Writing down his findings in a notebook as he studies them with a curious gaze. It did nothing but baffle Green. As the local atmosphere that he could feel through his suit was nowhere near the level of humidity required for the local foliage to grow this large. Was it possibly genetics and not just from environmental factors? It made Green wonder. If that is true, then that means that the world is naturally this large...and where there are giant plants...there are giant herbivores….and where there are giant herbivores… There were bound to be giant carnivores too. It sent a chill running down his spine when he imagined a large creature with a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth looming over him. Possibly with an appetite to devour him whole. He shudders and shakes his head from side to side to rid the disturbing vision from his mind. Instead of worrying about that very likely possibility, Green decided that it was probably a good idea to start collecting samples for him to research. Thankfully, this planet had an oxygen rich atmosphere. Which allowed him to swap out his O2 tank for a backpack. Which made it easier for him to carry his samples around. At least they didn’t have to worry about air on top of everything else, right? The first thing he does is scoop up some dirt into some sample containers. After that, he plucks some blades of grass, a couple of flowers that were on a nearby bush, and even some seeds that he found at the base of a large tree. It was a series of laborious tasks, but he was just glad to finally be off of the Skeld. Not that it was bad or anything, it was just nice to do some field work after being cooped up in a metallic ship for days on end. While on his scouting trip, he took notice of the sunlight filtering in through the trees and the slight fog that filtered in through the forest. Giving the grotto a rather...mystical look.

He could even see the shimmering dewdrops reflecting light off the large blades of grass. Giving the slightly murky haze a sparkling sense of wonder. It was quite a sight to behold as he wandered just a bit farther into the forest. Making sure to keep the Skeld in sight as he does so. He wasn’t trying to get lost while out on his first day in the field.

The grotto grew lighter the further away from the Skeld he went. The roots and low profile plants created a miniature jungle as Green explored further out into the grove. Then, he entered a small clearing. Green’s gaze scanned the surrounding vegetation until it was caught by an unusual-looking plant. He slowly wanders over to the bush, trying to get a better grasp on what he was seeing. Finally, he could make out a very familiar-looking growth on the shrub. It was a berry! Even though they looked strange compared to the ones back on his home planet, they were strikingly similar! They were also pretty large for their size. Not too huge, but large enough to fill up a palm if you were to hold a berry in one hand. Green eagerly reaches up and plucks one of the brightly colored berries from their branch. Lifting up his visor slightly to sniff the alien fruit, revealing that it was rather fragrant. A great find to have on their first day, this could be a potential temporary food source!

However, he had to check if they were poisonous first before anything was deemed as edible. With a quick flip to slide his visor back into place, he began to scout out another berry to take from the bush. Green happily plucked another large healthy berry from the bush and reached around to place them in his backpack. Once that was done, he quickly began to head back to the Captains to notify them of his discovery. He hurried back as quickly as he could, shuffling over roots, ducking under low branches and finally coming back in sight of the Skeld. Watching as the Captains point and seemed to be discussing the damage that was done to the Skeld during the crash. It was quite a hopeless sight to see the Skeld in such a condition. The damage to the ships’ hull was great, as lots of metal sheets were ripped off in the crash. Not only that, they were out of fuel and missing a wing. Just where were they going to get processed metal from? There wasn’t any known civilization around and there wasn’t any equipment on board that was fit for digging up ore. It was a rather disheartening outlook for the crew, but the captains seemed to be doing a great job at keeping their heads. Especially White. Green couldn’t really picture himself under anyone else. White cared a lot about his crew. He even tangled with an imposter once, which is how he got those scars over one of his eyes. Green happily trotted up to his captains. White was the first to take notice of him and turned to greet him. Quickly mimicked by Black. “Green! There you are! I was getting a bit worried there, but seeing as you have come back okay and in good health, I can safely relax. So, have you found anything of interest?” White asks, to which Green is quick to oblige. “Aside from the typical studying material, I haven’t sourced out much. But, I have found something of interest! We could possibly utilize it as a source of food!” Green happily announces. The two captains seemed to become equally intrigued as Green slips off his backpack and reaches inside. “Take a look!” Green happily announces as he pulls out the two berries. The two captains seemed to be startled by the sheer sizes of the berries at first, but then both seemed to be equally happy to see some fresh edible food.

“Amazing job, Green! I surmise that you’re going to screen these for any poisonous compounds, correct?” Black questions. “Yes sir, Black. I’ll be testing these as soon as possible. But, I would like to request that I explore some more while the sun is in the sky. I want to see if I can find anything else for us to eat. I will put these in my lab and request that they be left alone until further notice.” Green explains. “Affirmative. I’ll relay the news to the rest of the crew. I still want you to go with a partner, Green. Don’t stray too far from the ship, either! We don’t know what’s out there!” White warns. “Of course, Captain!” Green confirms before he hurries back inside the Skeld to drop off his collected goodies. White could only watch him go and sigh in discontent. If only he could be as enthusiastic about being on a strange planet like Green was. He felt lost for a moment before a hand landing on his shoulder shook him out of the negative thoughts that were occupying his mind. Looking over, he sees Black staring at him in concern. He was giving White an all-knowing glance. White internally admitted that he wasn’t surprised.

He and Black were Captain and co-captain for many months aboard the Skeld. Each watching out for each other and keeping the other in line. No matter what came their way. Be it a disaster, imposter attack, or even now. During a planetary stranding. A strong bond had definitely formed between the two of them. They’ve even been around each other so much that they could tell when another isn’t feeling nor acting like themselves.

He sometimes just wished that Black wasn’t that perceptive. Other times..he’s thankful for it. “It’s that obvious...isn’t it?” White spoke softly, looking at his co-captain with tired eyes. Black wordlessly nods. “I see it as clear as day, Captain. I can understand that you’re stressed, but that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder the responsibility of the crew all by yourself. That’s why I’m here.” Black softly chides.

“I know…” White mutters. “I just want to be strong for my crew. To keep up morale...and to get us all out of here...alive.” He continues. “Obviously. But we’re in this together . I didn’t almost lose you to an imposter nearly clawing your eyes out just for you to die from accumulated stress, now did I?” Black chuckles, inciting a chortle from the captain as well. “Come on, you stubborn old man. At least we’re accomplishing something on our first day.” Black continues, pulling his hand off of White’s shoulder and walking ahead. White could only roll his eyes and follow his co-captain back into the Skeld. While still worried, he at least had a faithful co-captain to help him out. Not that he ever doubted Black in any way. What would he do without him? -- Green was currently back in his laboratory on the Skeld. While the crash had broken and disrupted a lot of the internal workings and machinery in the lab, it was still functional enough for him to perform his duties. With a little bit of cleaning and straightening up, the lab was...still in a shoddy condition. But at least it wasn’t totally ruined. He still had his desk to study his samples, at least. Speaking of which, he was currently studying the large berries he discovered at said desk.

Looking at them closely under his microscope, as well as a few samples currently being scanned for poisonous anomalies. Everything was looking positive so far! Which was a great sign! As that meant that the crew would be able to have a temporary food source nearby. It would certainly help in their endeavors while they tried to make sense of their situation. Green was so focused on his work that he barely noticed the knock that came from the direction of the exit of his laboratory. He looked up in surprise, seeing his friend standing in the door. Red was leaning on the doorframe with his visor up, looking at Green with an expression that seemed to be content. The Red crewmate flashes Green a sharp-toothed smile upon being noticed. “Ey there, egghead. Captain said you managed to find a source of food for us. So I came down to see ya and to say cheers.” Red explained, walking a little ways into the lab. Green gives his friend a knowing smile. “Hey there, you red-clad jerk!” Green affectionately greets. “And I’m happy to say that these berries are edible! They’ve passed all the tests I put them through with flying colors!” Green finishes. Red then gives the berries a shifty glance as he looks at them and back at Green. Green rolls his eyes. Already knowing full-well what his comrade wanted. “Yes, you can have a bite.” Green relents. Red gives his buddy a wide sharp-toothed smile and snatches one up from the desk. Chomping down on it and munching on the chunk in his mouth. While giving him a playfully annoyed glance, Green finishes up filling out his respective filings on the berries and stores them away properly in his desk. Green then turns to look at his friend while standing up from his desk. Grabbing the second berry and tucking it under his arm. “I’m about to go back out in the field to see about collecting some more of these berries. I have to report to White first...do you wanna come with me, Red?” Green asks, making his way past his friend and out of his lab. Red follows and swallows the chunk he was chewing on before responding. “You’re going back outside??” He replies, taking another chomp out of the berry in his hands. Muttering in agitation when the juices drip down his face and onto his neck. “Well...yeah! I have to collect more of these berries so that we can have food tonight. Food and water have been made our top priorities after all. Berries can thankfully supply us with both! So I personally think it’s worth the effort.” Green insists. Red, while still uncertain, could understand Green’s logic. By the time Red finished chewing on the bit of berry in his mouth, he and Green had already arrived in the mess hall where the captains were. White was quick to notice them walking in and gave a brief look of confusion to Red. But, seeing as the berry was currently being eaten on, it seemed to tell him all he needed to know. “Judging by Red’s voracious enthusiasm, I assume the berries are edible?” White arches a brow at Red. “Indeed, sir! They have passed the tests with flying colors and I came to request that me and Red go out to harvest a batch for us to eat tonight.” Green says, pulling out the berry that was stuffed under his arm and setting it down on the mess hall table nearby. Then, he seemed to realize something as he turned back to White. “How are our rations, may I ask?” Green questions. Then, the captains both share a grim look before replying. “Well, seeing as our storage is close to the bottom of the ship, it took a lot of damage. We lost the extra supplies that we were meant to take to Polus, as well as some of our previous stock. Leaks and destroyed containers left a lot of our rations useless or unsafe to consume. Especially with the shrapnel and loose parts strewn about the lower halves of the ship.” White explains. “In short, those berries are going to be a big help. So I will grant you permission to go out and forage for them. As well as taking Red with you. As of right now, the others are occupied with repairing internal damages and cleaning up as much as they can.” White continues. Red pauses in munching on the berry in his hands for a moment before looking at White. “If...that is okay with you, Red?” White cautiously continues. Red takes a moment to think before shrugging, “Why not? I just haveta swap out my O2 tank first, then I’ll be ready to forage for ya, mate.” Red finally agrees, taking another chomp out of the remains of the berry in his hand. “You go do that. Green, please wait for Red before you officially head out...and please. Be careful. Keep an eye out on your surroundings .” White warns, Black nodding in agreement at his side. “Yes sir!” Green happily salutes before turning away and heading to the exit of the Skeld.

Meanwhile, Red shoves the last bit of the berry into his mouth and the only remains of it were all over his face and neck in the form of a sticky residue. “I...also think you should take a moment to clean your face as well, Red.” Black suggests to which Red nods in confirmation and turns away to walk out of the mess hall. However, he strides past Blue on his way to the bathrooms and Blue is quick to give him a look of absolute disgust. “UGH! What the hell?! That’s disgustin’! Go wash your face ya animal!” Blue snarks while Red walks past. This only results in Red spitting a berry seed right at Blue’s visor. Resulting in another disgusted shriek from the communications officer. The two captains could only look on and let out uniform sighs of worry and disappointment.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

#Among Us #Among Us fanfic #Among Us fic #Among Us reader insert #Fanfic #Haxorus Imp #My Writings #AO3fic #Planet of the Megafaunas

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98prilla · 4 years ago

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AO3

This idea hit me at like 1am, and I really like how it turned out.

...

He was a star.

A brilliant, shining ball of light in the endless darkness of the universe.

A magnetic pull so strong surely nothing could escape his orbit.

He was bright and warm and so, so distant.

He was impossible.

It was impossible.

He’d never known the meaning of the word impossible.

That’s how they got here, he supposes.

The star is so bright, right now, speaking, saying words, no doubt smart words, he always was the smartest person in the room, and he seemed to glow, a brilliant, blazing white, though that could just be the reflection of the street lamp off the wet pavement.

His ears were ringing. Which was a shame, really, because he wanted to hear what the star was saying to him, what marvelous poetry was leaving his lips, but he couldn’t hear anything.

That’s not true. Not entirely. He could hear something. It was almost like the bass coming out of a stereo turned too loud, the thumping of a steady beat, slowly becoming erratic and wrong, out of pace with the rest of the song.

He felt wet. Warm wet. Not the rain. The rain was cold. It made him shiver, it felt like needles, against his skin. He saw a hint of red, tried to turn his head to see more, to get a glimpse, but the star stopped him, held him still.

The star was looking into his eyes, almost desperately, pleadingly, and his lips were moving, but for all the suns in the universe, he couldn’t make out anything, even trying to read his lips was a blur, everything was a blur.

There was that beat again. It fluttered like a snare, now, rat a tatting against his ribcage, and he realized it must be his heart. Idly, he thought hearts aren’t supposed to beat like that.

Then again, people aren’t supposed to be hit by cars, are they? They’re not made for the force of that impact, to go flying over windshields, to go crashing against glass, to have bones turned at sharp angles and blood in their lungs.

Oh.

Was that it?

It must be.

He dimly remembered something like that. Rain, clouds, drizzle, the star, walking, head in a book, and the car was speeding, going at least 45 down a main street in the small downtown, and the star had stepped off the curb, and the car had come down the street, and he’d had a moment to do something, or not.

And of course, he acted.

Of course, he shoved the star out of the way.

Of course, he went flying head over heels, just as he’d fallen for the star, who in all likelihood, didn’t even know his name.

That didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that the star didn’t know him. The star was so bright, so brilliant, he couldn’t stand to see it dimmed, see it extinguished, not when it knew so much about so much, not when he was the smartest person he knew, not when he could listen to the star speak for hours and hours about ecosystems, the universe, the world, the concept of identity itself, he’d chosen most of his classes hoping they were the ones the star would take, because he loved to listen to him speak, he often knew more than the teachers did, and anyways, it’s not like he had a plan.

Not like he’d had much of a future, even before he became a human pancake.

For some reason that though made him grin, though he felt blood on his tongue, coating his teeth.

And they said Roman was the hero, well. His last act of brotherly spite would be to steal Roman’s blurb in the year book, hero student saves local star from car crash, the universe thanks him for it. God, it would be a nightmare trying to find a presentable picture of himself for it, one where he wasn’t covered in paint or goo or some other substance, he’d made for his art.

He heard something. It was loud enough it could reach through his haze, reach through his ears, he recognized it as sirens, and suddenly strobing light illuminated the star from behind his closed lids, huh, when had he closed his eyes?

“-us. Remus. Stay. Awake. You need to stay awake.” He jolted at that, eyes flying open, like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, because everything blurred and colors seeped into each other like an oversaturated watercolor painting, but Star had said his name, knew his name, and though his limbs were numb and tingling, he could feel a hand in his, squeezing tight.

He coughed, spitting, feeling himself start to shake, unable to stop, the tremors racing through him, like his own personal earthquake, tearing down his buildings and starting his mind on fire, as it struggled to regain balance, regain composure, but his heart was racing, on the verge of giving out, and it hurt like hell to breathe, and the world was fading out around him, and distantly, he heard shouting, heard loud beeping growing more frantic, heard his star begging him to stay awake, but he couldn’t.

He just…

Couldn’t.

…

“-male severe trauma-"

“-coding-"

“-internal bleeding…. Can’t see where-“

…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Wow, that noise was annoying.

A snuffling sound, muted, someone trying to stifle their sobs.

Heh. He must still be dreaming. No one would cry over him.

He might cry though, because despite the wonderful painkillers he was no doubt being pumped full of, he hurt like a son of a bitch.

He must have made some movement, some small sound, because suddenly there was a hand on his arm, a presence near him, and he’d recognize that feel anywhere.

“Remus. Remus you better not give up on me, you hear me? I swear, I swear, I will hunt you down and kill you again if you die here. Jumped in front of a car, who does that, who jumps in front of a car!?” Roman was still talking, but he couldn’t hear him anymore.

His thoughts fizzled out as the beeping stopped, becoming one long tone. He could almost hear yelling, almost feel something jolt his chest, almost hear Roman, screaming, but he didn’t.

He fell back into darkness.

…

Tumbling.

Tumbling through time and space and memories.

Here he and Roman played with each other, well, tried to. Roman kept building lego towers, and he kept playing Godzilla, stomping and kicking and roaring as he destroyed Roman’s painstaking creations. It always ended in a fight.

Here it was their first day of school, and some bully made fun of Roman because he was anxious and cried when their mom left them there. Not ten minutes later she got a call from the principle. Because he’d punched the bitch in the face and nearly broken his nose. Called him a bitch to his face, too, but he didn’t care about the trouble. It made Roman smile.

Here it was the start of the end of the two of them as a duo, their first day of high school. Roman fit in so well, with his perfect smile and talent for art and theater and music that was finally appreciated, and there wasn’t room for him anymore, with his unbrushed hair, his wild smile, his blurting mouth, his twisted drawings and horrored paintings, he was just the wierdo, the outcast, the no good brother that always was in some kind of trouble.

Here Roman was yelling at him. They were having a fight.

“Why can’t you just be normal for once!?” Roman had shouted, and despite the pain in his chest he forced back his tears, because everyone else hated him or was scared of him or thought he was just going nowhere but he’d thought Roman still cared.

“Because that’s not who I am! What do you want me to do, Roman?!” He’d yelled back.

“I want you to stop embarrassing me for a single fucking second!” He’d frozen, reeling back, that stung more than anything else, it broke something inside him, and he felt wetness dripping down his face, felt like screaming, but his breath was caught in his throat.

He turned and walked out the door.

There wasn’t anything else he could do.

If Roman wanted to hurt him that way, fine. Fine, he could take it, he had taken it, from everyone else, it had been stupid to assume just because Roman was his twin that he wouldn’t get sick of him eventually, just like everyone else. It was stupid to hope Roman wanted him around. Stupid to hope Roman liked him.

So he just walked away. Because if he stayed a moment longer, he’d say something back, say something cruel, and he refused to do that, even now, refused to hurt Roman, who didn’t deserve it.

That’s why he’d been outside the library, angrily staring at his sketchbook, hands shaking, vision blurred.

That’s why he’d seen Logan, his star, his universe, his planet, exit the building, lost in a book.

That’s why his gaze had followed him as he stepped off the pavement, as the car zoomed at least 20 miles over the speed limit, down the street.

That’s why he’d leapt off his feet and gone running, shoving Logan out of the way, everything moving too fast and too slow as the car tried to brake, but there wasn’t enough time, and he couldn’t help laughing a little, inside, because of course. Of course this would happen to him.

…

Words.

Words. A voice. A voice speaking. No.

Reading. A voice reading.

It sounded a bit shaky.

That seemed odd, for some reason. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t remember ever hearing it sound anything less than absolutely sure of itself.

It also seemed odd that it would be here, in this… hospital? Must be, nowhere else smelled like plastic gloves and bleach. Well. He could name a few other places that probably smelled like that, but he doubted an ambulance would deliver him to the nearest clean freaks’ orgy.

Back to the voice. Something about the universe. Something about planets. Something about… stars.

It took him a long few minutes, to open his eyes. So long, he started to wonder if he even had eyes, or if he was doomed to darkness forever, but still, he struggled to the surface of awareness, if just barely, the world still fuzzed and blurred around the edges, like an old photograph corroded by time and sunlight.

Not quite sepia. Not quite gray. Just a paleish, tannish, muddled, mess.

White ceiling. White bed, white sheets, white everything, jesus, was he in a hospital or abducted by aliens? No wonder these people were doctors, no appreciation for art among them, apparently. He already had about a dozen mural designs sketched out in his head, at least four of which would actually be pg enough for a hospital room.

The voice. The voice had stopped.

He managed to turn his head, though it took all the effort in the world, that simple motion, and met the wide eyed stare of Logan Star, his star, his universe, his planet, his orbit, not that Logan knew it. Not that anyone did.

“You’re awake.” Logan said, a bit breathless, a bit afraid, a bit relieved. He managed a small smile, letting out a deep sigh that had him wincing at the pull in his chest.

“Such a disappointment, I know. Don’t tell my parents, give them a few more hours of peace.” He said flippantly, an ache settling into his bones. Logan made a noise half between a strangled kitten struggling for air and an exasperated goose honking.

“remus. You almost died. Multiple times. They… the doctors weren’t sure you were going to wake up. Ever.” He laughed at that, wincing at the pain it caused, turning his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

“well. What difference would it have made? It would almost have been better, if I didn’t wake up. ‘S not like I have a future. Not like anyone would care.” His words started to slur, exhaustion washing over him, but he was afraid, suddenly afraid, to fall back asleep, because what if he didn’t wake up again, after all? “Would ya tell Ro I know he’s sorry, and ‘s okay? I know he didn’t mean it. Well, no, he meant it, but I… understand. He’s right, about me. Always… always is.” He thought he felt a hand slip into his, felt the bed dip slightly, felt a hand stroking his hair, as he slipped back under.

…

He’s lost.

It was dark all around him, and he’s lost. He couldn’t find the path, couldn’t find the way out, he was trapped down, down, down in the dark again, and he felt himself start to panic, because he didn’t want to be here, it was too small and too dark and too deep and he wanted OUT!

A voice. No. Two voices, talking lowly, talking quietly, almost afraid. He knew them, he needed them, he needed them to be louder, he needed to follow them out of here. He could feel the dark swirling around him, trying to drag him back under, clogging his lungs and throat so he couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, and he’s going to drown-

A hand. A hand in his. An anchor. He gripped it like a drowning man, that’s what he was, even if it’s not quite water that was filling his lungs, he used it to haul himself to the surface of the waves, used it to steady himself against the roiling of his own mind, trying to wash him away, and someone was speaking again, the voice of the universe, the planets, the stars.

“R’man?” He slurred, blearily looking up at the hazel eyes of his brother, his twin, who was gripping his hand so tight his knuckles had turned white, then Roman let out a soft sound of despair and hope and carefully, slowly, helped him to sit up, hugging him tight. He didn’t understand why Roman suddenly cared so much, but it was nice, being hugged, so he leaned into it, let it happen, felt himself calm at the gesture, centering him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ree, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, and I’ve been so shitty, I’ve been the worst brother, I should have stood up for you, like you always did, always do, for me, instead I pushed you away. I almost lost you. I almost lost you and the last things I said to you were horrible. I love you. I’m so sorry, Remus, I love you.” Roman’s voice was choked, and he was surprised to find his own tears falling as he buried his head against Roman’s shoulder, crying as he felt Roman softly rocking back and forth.

“s not your fault. I’ve always been a screw up, Ro. It’s no wonder you don’t want me around, anymore.”

“No! Remus… Remus no. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I want you. I want you around, I want to spend all day fighting with you over stupid shit, I want to see you come careening down the stairs in clothes not even remotely matching and march out the door to school without even brushing your hair, I want to wake up at 2am to you blaring German death metal or hanging upside down from my ceiling or… or whatever other weird shit you constantly think up, I want every moment I can possibly get with you, because I… I never thought… I can’t… I can’t lose you, Ree. What am I supposed to do, if I lose you?” Roman’s voice was small and shattered, and he pressed himself closer against his twin, huge, silent tears dripping down his face. “I never want you to leave, Remus. Never.” Roman whispered, hugging him tighter, and he ignored the spasm of pain it sent through his body, because it felt so good, in all other respects.

“Careful, Ro, I’m almost starting to think you actually like me, or something.” He mumbled, feeling Roman let out a breathy, hiccupping laugh/sob.

“I do. So much, Remus, I do.” Roman replied, pulling back, face a mess, tear stained and disheveled, and it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. But there was a smile, small and fragile, on his face, and Remus couldn’t help but mirror it.

“you promise?” He asked, voice a barely there whisper, watching Roman’s face turn serious, as he met his eyes.

“I promise. I promise, Ree. Now. I think, you two, should talk.” Roman said, tentatively getting up, and Remus had almost forgotten there was another person in the room until Logan cleared his throat, stepping around Roman and sitting stiffly in the chair beside his bed, as Roman mouthed good luck, and vanished out the door, under the guise of getting them all something to eat, and checking in with the nurses and doctors.

He sighed, staring back up at the white ceiling, almost afraid to meet Logan’s eyes, to look at his face, he didn’t know what to expect, and for some reason that scared him more than dying.

“why?” Was the soft question, one he hadn’t expected, and he shifted, turning to look at Logan, who was looking down at his lap, hands creasing and uncreasing a tissue repetitively.

“why what?” He asked, though he knew. Logan did look up then, something curious and almost angry in his eyes, though his face was unreadable.

“Why did you push me out of the way? Why… why did you choose my life over yours?” He barely resists rolling his eyes, though he’s unable to stifle a scoff.

“Why wouldn’t I? You… have a future. You’ve probably got colleges slitting each other’s throats to have you, professors already trying to recruit you to their programs, and most people with that opportunity I’d hate and want to strangle because they’re pretentious, pompous, loaded pricks! But… you aren’t. You’re smart. You’ve earned it. You deserve it. You… can actually do something, with your life, you will, because you don’t do anything unless it has actual effects. Because you’re brilliant, and burning with potential, and burning with kindness, and burning with curiosity and it’s like… like a light, in the shitty world we live in, when you learn something new, it lights up the cosmos, that look on your face.

You’re a star, Logan. An actual, burning, brilliant, ball of energy and light and expansion and one day you’ll explode like a supernova and make something truly, purely, incredible.

And I? I’ll just be bumming it on the streets somewhere, because that’s all I’m good at. Fucking everything up. So yeah. It wasn’t even a question of you or me, it wasn’t even a choice, I didn’t think about it, I just acted, because even if I had died, it didn’t matter. Not… not like you dying would. Not how you dying would matter, to me.” He looked away again, shame welling in his throat, hot tears slipping down his cheeks, because he always ruined everything, didn’t he?

“remus. It would matter. If you died, it would matter.” He let out a hollow laugh, too weak to even reach up and wipe away his tears.

“Would it? I’ve thought a lot about this, Lo. I’ve thought over how I could do it, where I could do it, when would be the best time. It’s at the bottom of my to do list, really, and I just keep finding another reason to push it off. It’s come down to the timing, truly. I don’t want it to upset anyone too badly, I don’t want it to mar an important holiday or anniversary, I don’t want to leave them to clean up my mess, but I want them to be able to find me.

Leaving a note, or maybe sending a time delayed text with my location, was my thought. Maybe jumping off one of the cliffs in the park, but I didn’t want some poor hiker to get traumatized. Maybe jumping into the sea, drowning, but then they wouldn’t have my body to bury. And it would be too messy to just cut my wrists open, then they’d have to clean up the blood, and god, won’t that be a mess? So very Me, of me, I suppose, to leave them one last work of art to scrub off the floor. One last piece no one wanted anyway, to be discarded.

They’d be sad, but they’d move on pretty fast. Too much going on to not. Roman, going to art school, my parents, barely home anyways, with how often they work, and it’s not like I’ve got any friends. Roman’s got plenty of those, plenty of people to prop him up, once I’m gone. So yeah, me dying has pretty much a null effect on the universe.”

“Remus.” There was something oh so soft, too soft, in Logan’s voice, and he kept his head firmly turned away, unwilling to see the pity and horror and disgust in those brilliant green eyes of his. “Remus, the chances of you existing at all are infitesimal. The chances of you living in this moment, are so slim as to be nearly nonexistent. Of course, it matters, even if you think it doesn’t, even if you believe erroneously it doesn’t matter to Roman, it matters to me.” There was a desperate edge to Logan’s voice, a break to it, that cracked through his calm exterior to his frantic heart, and Remus found his head being gently turned, the soft touch not moving away as his eyes met Logan’s, round and huge behind his glasses.

“Your art is beautiful. I never really understood it, I still don’t, but looking at it, I know how long it takes to make, I know how painstaking it is, and that’s what makes it beautiful, makes every drop of ink or brushstroke a masterpiece. You throw yourself head first into everything you do, with no second thoughts or rationality and it’s both infuriating and amazing, because I could never fully figure you out. Some days you are loud and boisterous, and almost more flirtatious than Roman, definitely more dangerous, than Roman, and others day you’re silent and still, like the moment before the lightning crashes, the second before the twister sets down, and I want nothing more than to know what exactly you’re thinking in that moment, what is about to send you over the edge, I want to know why you think you’re so worthless, when I watch you be incredible day after day, no matter what anyone else says or thinks or teases or comments, you somehow manage to just stay yourself, and I wish I knew how you did it. I wish you knew, how perfect you really, truly, are.” He didn’t protest, as Logan’s lips met his, soft and careful and tentative, only a brush, really, but when Logan went to pull back, he managed to move his arm, managed to weakly grab hold of Logan’s.

“please. Please stay. I don’t… it’s so dark… I don’t…” He was losing it, he could tell he was, he was slipping, and the dark was so much darker now, so much deeper, and if he fell, he didn’t know how long he could stay afloat.

“of course.” His eyes had slipped closed, but he felt Logan carefully shifting him, before slipping onto the bed beside him, and he sighed, as Logan nestled against him, his head in the crook of his shoulder, a solid, calming weight against his back, holding him close.

“Wha’s wrong with me, xactly?” He slurred.

“I don’t know the full list. Punctured lung, broken ribs, broken arm, broken leg, concussion, internal organ trauma, they said… they said they nearly lost you four times total, before you stayed in stable, if severe, condition. The first time you woke, you’d been in a coma for a full week. There wasn’t anything wrong with you, necessarily, you just… wouldn’t wake up.”

“was stuck. Was you, woke me. Reading, somthin bout space.” He smiled, feeling Logan tuck back a strand of his hair, his hand brushing gently against his cheek.

“Lonely planet’s guide to the universe. I thought… I just… I didn’t want you to think you were alone. I wanted to give you a reason to wake up. I just didn’t know how badly you needed one.”

“I love you.” He blurted, unceremoniously, too tired to care about the consequences, his stupid mouth always speaking without his stupid brain’s stupid permission. But if he’d kept it in one moment longer, he was sure he’d explode. The silence seemed to last forever, before he realized it was because Logan was crying, and with effort, he managed to roll himself over, so he was face to face with his star.

“I love you.” Logan said, raw sincerity burning in his throat, as he pressed their foreheads together, as his hands rested around his waist, pulling him gently close once more, this time tucking his head down against Logan’s chest, feeling him press a soft kiss to his head. “I love you, Remus. And you very nearly didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

“what can I say? ‘M a stupid bitch.” He mumbled, half asleep already, smiling as he felt Logan’s laugh rumbling through his chest, melting more as he felt a hand carding through his hair, one still draped across his waist, anchoring him steady against the dark.

He’d been wrong.

Logan wasn’t a star.

They were both planets.

Orbiting each other, caught in the pull of gravity, slowly being pulled closer and closer-

Until they collided.

#remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #sympathetic logan #roman sanders #sympathetic roman #high school au #intrulogical #car accident #hospitals #blood #severe injuries #Suicidal Thoughts #remus angst #happy ending #pining #one shot

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niksfiks · 4 years ago

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Gotta Get It Right: Chapter 12

PAIRING: Loki/OFC

RATING: Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger warning: mentions of violence, torture

Also on Ao3

Feedback is always appreciated (just being an attention whore screaming for comments/reblogs). Taglist is open

Tagging @fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @mrshiddleston-uk @mischievousbellerina @amwolowicz @dangertoozmanykids101

Chapter 12: Shattered

"Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain..." Sigmund Freud

Loki emerged from the en suite as he pulled the tunic over his wet hair. There was no evidence of the maiden that had warmed his bed not twenty minutes prior. Despite the release he’d found in her arms, he still wasn’t able to relax. Continued rumors of traitors in the council, coupled with growing tensions with Alfheim, weighed on him more each day. On top of it all, the distant voice of the Other haunting his dreams.

A soft knock yielded a scullery maid delivering his nightly tea. He nodded and she quickly departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. The Alfheim has long been a friend of Asgard, welcoming a much younger Loki as a pupil on their shores. Any discontent they felt had to be tied to D’Varst and his renewed grab at power. A grab, he told himself, that he could control for now, if for no other reason than to root out any others sympathetic to the old man’s cause. Rip the treason out all at once and minimize the pain.

You will long for something as sweet as pain.

“No!” he shouted, slamming his fist against the wall and sending a shock through his system. The voice dissipated, pulling the memories of life aboard that ship with it.

Loki’s long fingers wrapped around the handle of the teapot, tilting it to pour the herbal blend. The cup rattled softly, giving Loki pause. A deep breath brought another attempt to pour that ended with papers and books falling across the room.

“What the Hel?” he mumbled.

The entire palace shook violently. Sirens wailed their alert, drowning out the panicked cries of servants and guards in the halls. Loki entered the corridors, the last bits of his armor shimmering into existence.

“Skurge!” he shouted over the din. The burly man met him near a staircase, dodging people as they moved to the side. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure,” Skurge panted, “but it’s coming from the substructure.”

The woman. If this another escape...

“Gather a squad of Einherjar and have them meet me at the dungeon entrance.” Loki barked, slamming into a column with another tremor. “And ensure that the palace is completely evacuated!” Skurge nodded and began a sprint in the opposite direction of his master.

Guards met Loki’s detachment en route to the dungeons, advising them to make for the vault. The woman’s cell was empty, they’d said, and that a hole into the ventilation system had been created. Loki cursed himself for not securing the Tesseract in another location and led the group to their destination.

Energy came in waves from the vault, nearly knocking them to the floor. Loki could hear the structure groaning around them as the waves passed through the palace, and found himself wondering if he shouldn’t order an evacuation of the surrounding city.

The vault lay open, doors blown wide. Cautiously, he stepped inside and choked when he saw what was happening. One of the vault’s guards lay motionless on the floor, the other on his knees to one side of the massive portal swirling in the center of the room. The woman held his head inches from the edge in one hand, screaming at him in a language Loki couldn’t immediately identify. Her free hand was directed at the Tesseract lying next to her feet, golden Sei∂r passing between them. Summoning all the authority he could find, Loki moved down the staircase.

“And what do we have here?”

Aleksa’s head angled slightly before turning to look over her shoulder, a sinister smirk emerging. She shifted slowly to face him, releasing her grip on the guard just long enough for him to attempt to flee. Sei∂r continued to flow from her body into the Tesseract as she clamped down on the guard’s collar, pulling him back to her side.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.” She leaned down to the struggling man, her voice taking a demonic tone. “Looks like the cavalry’s here, but somehow, I don’t think you’re the one Fury’s picking up, little spay .”

Loki balked.

Fury?

Another energy wave pulsed from the Tesseract, causing everyone in the room to stagger. The woman’s slow return to her feet gave Loki an opportunity to see the location on the other side of the portal. The desert he’d seen before the woman’s first escape blazed behind her, the blinding white sands a stark contrast to the black earth closest to the portal’s edge.

A desert, he thought. Fury reported picking her up in a desert with scorched sand. That she’d... A plan was already forming in his mind as he signaled the guards to stay behind him while he moved forward.

“What’d you think you’re doing, Colonel?”

“What does it look like, Nick? I’m interrogating the prisoner.” She growled, squeezing the guard’s neck, eliciting a pained howl.

“We talked about this, Lex.” Loki stepped a bit closer, replaying the conversation he’d read about months ago in his head. “You find the cube, I ask the questions.”

“Problem is, I don’t work for you anymore. But don’t worry. This little bastard is singing like a canary.” She leaned down, kissing the top of the guard’s head before pushing him to the floor.

“If you’re not working for me, who are you working for?”

“Some spy you are.” Mock confusion crossed her face. “I work for the same asshole you do.”

“I don’t answer to him, Lex. Neither do you.”

Aleksa’s laugh bellowed through the vault in time with an energy pulse. Loki could hear power generators begin to shut down above them. “C’mon, Nick. We both know he’s head of the Council. And I know he’s playing both sides.” She ground her heel into the guard’s back. “Isn’t he, spay ?”

Remnants of a burned-out village came into view through the growing portal. It had to be the same decimated village described in Fury’s report. Loki swallowed the brief kernel of doubt, knowing if he didn’t separate her from the Tesseract, the portal would tear the palace apart. Even if it didn’t, she still might.

“Oh, I know. Just like I know these aren’t your run of the mill terrorists,” he gestured to the guards. “And I know this isn’t who you really are.”

“Then what am I, Director? Hmm? A good soldier? An honorable warrior?” She snarled. “ A healer? ”

“Yes.” Loki was close enough to touch her and began to maneuver himself between her and the Tesseract. “You’re all of those things, Colonel. You’re not a cold-blooded killer. You won’t slaughter innocents...”

“Innocents?” she screamed. “These soulless bastards,” she nodded to the guard on the floor, “aren’t innocent! The men in this camp weren’t innocent. And the villagers? The ones who harbored these animals. Fed them, clothed them, watched them slaughter my team one by one, watched as they slit...Erik...” she faltered, the white light from the portal reflecting in the tears running down her face. “They are. Not. Innocent. No one is. Not even you.”

“You’re right.” Fury’s voice fell evenly under Loki’s guidance. “But you’re better than this. Let us take care of this one.” He reached out one hand while trying to send the Tesseract into a pocket dimension. “Let me take you home.”

Her features softened and, for one brief moment, Loki thought he’d gotten through to her. Her eyes turned dark and the sinister smile returned.

“We both know I’m going to die in this hellhole. Care to join me?”

Aleksa lunged at Fury, falling through the illusion to the floor. She rolled to her feet in time to see the Tesseract vanish above Loki’s hand. She howled and scrambled for the rapidly closing portal. Loki dove for her, knocking her back to the floor. She struggled against him, screaming incoherently between languages, begging to be released. A few moments passed after the portal closed before she stilled.

Loki backed away, cautiously waving the Einherjar in to retrieve their comrades. The remaining guards surrounded Aleksa with weapons at the ready. Loki knelt in front of where she sat on the floor.

“Colonel?”

Aleksa didn’t respond. She just stared at the spot where the portal had been, whispering incoherently. Just as he began to rise, she spoke in a voice that sparked both sorrow and fear in his heart.

“Kill me.”

#gotta get it right #niksfiks #nikkalia #loki fanfic #Loki/OFC #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason

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lokh · 1 year ago

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tagged by @steinbit! thanks for tagging ^_^

10 people 10 songs!

afterlife - last dinosaurs

trisinti - sofiane saidi & mazalda

queen of the underground - goat

i dont know me like you do - low hum

devil is fine - zeal and ardor

your love - glass animals

expand your mind - the vintage caravan

coming home - guilty gear

woonded animal - loone

plan the escape (sirens and tremors) - kilamanzego

this one took a while cos i got stuck at like. 5 lmao i really do listen to the same few songs for weeks on end

tagging @absolutelynotsanebaby @antiv3nom @g4yr4t anddd anyone else that wants to do it, tag me so i can find more than 5 songs to listen to!!!

#as always you dont have to do it but thumbs up emoji #tag meme #REALLY started struggling around. 8 lmao. i think ive had this in the drafts for a week #i basically just waited to see what songs got stuck in my head and then put them down. yeehaw #these are mostly youtube links btw becos you wont catch me on fucking spotify dead.#one bandcamp link #most of these songs are available on bandcamp now that i look at it. hmmmmm maybe i should have linked those instead...

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dcmidivine · 4 years ago

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you can’t fire me, i quit! || devin (& gene)

Devin refused to die in a polo shirt.

If someone had told her that morning that her boss was going to turn into a flaming metal donkey lady, her response would have been along the lines of "no surprise there" or "do I still need to go to my shift?". Anything was better than the mind-numbing boredom of another day leaning against a rack of sunglasses, watching sullen teenagers stroll by with their parents and getting scolded for 'attitude' from her weird ass boss.

Her weird ass boss who was now on fire and growling at her like Koa playing tug of war with her favourite stuffed bear. Maybe there were some things worse than customer service.

Devin scowled and squared up. Someone to her left had their phone up, recording. She was not going to be caught running from this– whatever it was. Animated kindergarten collage? The crumbs found at the bottom of a monster variety pack? Wings, a metal limb and a donkey leg seemed overkill, but at the same time, oddly familiar. She had read about this kind of thing, she was certain.

Now would be the perfect time for some stinging last words, but, face to face with the nightmare that had barely been paying her minimum wage, the only thoughts in her brain were kick it in the face followed by bad plan, it's on fire.

"Devin!" A mess of blond hair appeared beside her. For once in his life, her boyfriend showed up at the perfect time. "What the– what the hell is going on?"

Not the most encouraging entrance, but he did have her field hockey stick in his hand, which she promptly plucked out of his hand and brandished like the referee had turned a blind eye. It may be nothing more than wood against a flaming hell demon, but the familiar weight in her hands helped dial up her confidence. Everything was easier when you could hit your problems with a stick. "Fucking bitch ass boss coming at me!"

Eli made a sound that sounded something like "hrnh?". It wasn't very helpful, but Devin appreciated the effort.

"I've waited a long time for this," the creature growled, stalking forward towards them. Its shape was changing in a dizzying blur between the monster and her old boss, tacky polo and all– oh, mythology. It was something to do with mythology, but the term escaped her, clinging to the tip of her tongue. Her boss split into a grin, baring teeth sharpened to a point. Devin was impressed that Eli stood his ground alongside her until she glanced over to see his body locked in fear. So much for fight or flight.

The blur in corner of her eye was all the warning she got before she hit the ground, years of training all that saved her from a concussion as she instinctively tucked her head towards her chest. In the split second her attention was distracted, the monster had pounced. Empousa, her brain helpfully supplied as she found herself staring up at its face. That’s the word.

“Hey ugly!” A pair of sunglasses sailed past the empousa’s head and clattered away across the floor. It snapped its head to the side to search for the threat and the next pair caught it in the teeth. That distraction was all she needed. Seizing her field hockey stick from where it had dropped beside her, she squeezed her eyes shut and pictured a baseball bat as she put all her strength into cracking it across the base of her boss’s skull. With a satisfying clunk, the monster dropped like a sack of brick. Devin rolled, shoving the limp form off of her, and sat up to witness the scene before her of her boyfriend, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, wielding a bouquet of sunglasses in each hand like a fistful of darts.

“Babe.” Devin ran over as soon as she found her feet. He had saved her life– and wrecked half the sunglasses cart, which was somehow more touching. The mall around them had emptied out. Devin hoped no one got the last part on video: Local Youtuber donkey-kicked to mall floor was not a headline she wanted on her resume.

Eli was touching her face and saying something about Gene.

“Oh, yeah.” Devin pulled a piece of chipped monster tooth out of her hair, which, all things considered, was pretty cool. By her feet, the empousa was already beginning to stir. She gave it another healthy crack across the head, double checked Eli was behind her, and took off in a sprint towards the exit.

Devin skidded to a halt on the inside of the doors, Eli on her heels, and slammed her hand into the door where her brother was dragging a potted plant around with one of his college friends. What the fuck? she mouthed at Gene, wasting a second to point at the plant incredulously and wonder when she became the normal one in the family. "Jesus fuck, you won't believe what just fucking happened. We gotta go."

Gene started mumbling about a dog, so she turned to leave. He seized her arm when she began to push the door open. Devin huffed. "Let us out, what the hell is your problem?" She stuck her thumb back over her shoulder, narrowly missing one of Eli’s eyes where he was hunched over. "My boss just turned into some freaky hellspawn and she's not staying down for long."

Gene’s friend- Ren?- conjured two swords out of chopsticks and before she could question the illusion, Devin dropped her field hockey stick to grab one. She didn’t have time to process the magic before something even weirder caught her attention about Gene’s friend. "Okay, okay, okay," she muttered to herself, taking a step backwards into Eli. "Cool cool cool. Goat man. That's cool. This is fine. Regular Friday afternoon."

Her grip on her sword tightened painfully as, out of the blue, a massive black dog slammed into the glass doors. Startled, she leapt back onto Eli’s foot, who whined either in pain or fear. She didn’t blame him– it was a terrifying sight for her, and she liked dogs. Adrenaline coursing through her, her vision sharpened, and she could see the spiderweb of cracks beginning to appear in the glass. She stepped in front of her boyfriend, a wave of protective energy rising in her, shoving his chest. "Fuck! Back, Eli, get back!"

Spinning around to face the dog, Devin shifted her grip around on the sword, trying to recall all she could about sword fighting from the research she had put into cosplays over the years. Foam was a poor imitation for the real thing, she was realizing now– no matter how she moved her hands, the weapon still felt clunky and wrong in her grip. Just stab it however you can, she told herself, falling into the ready position she used in tennis and squaring up to prepare for the fight.

Then, the plant exploded.

Devin yelped and stumbled backwards, finally not running into her boyfriend now that he had taken her advice. "Gene, fuck! The dog, get the dog!" she yelled at her brother who had lost his mind screaming at the leaves, irritation finding its place within her alongside the near overwhelming rush of fear and adrenaline. Despite how thick the growth was already, the dog was making quick process chewing through the wines as they appeared– with a groan, Devin steeled herself and ran forward. To her right, her brother dropped, and she faltered. Leave it to Gene to knock himself out slipping on a leaf at the one time when she couldn’t laugh at it. He could take the fun out of anything.

Ren grimaced to her right. "Oof, oh no. Devin, you got this! Go for the throat! Another blow might be able to get it!" Metal footfalls began to echo around the corner. "Uh, and maybe make that kinda quick, Dev? We've got company." He glanced over his shoulder at the approaching empousa. "Get me Gene's sword!"

The hellhound snapped so close to her face she could smell what it had for breakfast. Devin slid back into reality with a start. Without taking her eyes off the dog struggling with the vines before her, Devin inched her way over to Gene’s sword where it lay beside him. Kicking it back to Terence may not have been how he had wanted to have to transferred, but Devin’s arms were going numb from holding up the sword and she didn’t think she could loosen her grip if she tried.

“Here doggie!” she called, pretending the beast was Koa to keep the tremor out of her voice. A sickening screech of metal sounded behind her and she hoped that, by some twist of fate, it was a good thing. Either from her command or the fight behind her, the hellhound swung its head in her direction. It was kind of cute, in an ugly way. Devin wished it wasn’t trying to kill her. “Heeere puppy,” she muttered under her breath now, side stepping in an arc around it. Its eyes bore holes into her, tongue lolling out of its mouth as it tracked her movements.

Good news: the hellhound had stopped trying to free itself from the vines. Bad news: the hellhound had stopped trying to free itself because it was too busy watching her like she was a fresh cooked chicken. Her foot bumped her field hockey stick where it had been abandoned earlier. Slowly, she bent down to grab and lift it. The hound’s eyes followed the motion. “Good boy. Want the stick? You want the stick? Go fetch!”

Vines constricted and snapped around the dog as it lunged, for her or for the stick she didn’t know, but the moment of tension the plants gave was all the chance Devin needed. She dove forward as it struggled and rolled under its head, arcing the sword in a wide arc towards the throat with her eyes squeezed shut, prepared for either a shower of guts or death.

Neither came. Devin cracked one eye.

A fine dust was falling around her, like she was looking at the world from inside a snow globe. There was no sign of the hellhound. As she watched, Ren sliced through the empousa and it burst into another explosion of powder. Eli’s head popped up behind a trash can. Gene groaned as he rolled over beside her. Sirens started up in the background. She was covered in sweat and sitting in a pile of hellhound dust, yet her polo shirt was terribly, impossibly spotless.

“So like... we don’t have to pay for this, right?”

#devin #devinsp1 #dgene #ok it says & gene but he's in this for a single second

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somedayonbroadway · 5 years ago

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Newsies AU

Jack smirked and pulled his hood up over his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, well, well...” he muttered, walking up out of the shadows to the boy who was trying so hard not to look surprised. Jack knew better than that. “If it ain’t the Higgins boy...”

Sirens blared somewhere in the background. Race paid no mind to them. What he was about to do might cost him his life. He was having trouble caring. He pulled his hood up further over his head as he stepped deeper into the warehouse. He said nothing.

“Long time no see, little brotha’. What brings you back home?”

Rolling his eyes, the younger boy just shrugged. “Been too long, Jackie...”

The older boy scoffed, his smirk still ever present on his face. He knew something was up. Maybe that was a good thing. No matter how much him and Jack had fought in the past, they were blood. Half blood, sure, but they were still blood.

Kelly leaned back against his car, looking the other boy up and down. He hid the fact that his heart broke at how different the kid looked. Brooklyn could do that to anyone. But he hated that it had made his own family a stranger to him. “What d’ya want, Racer?”

Biting his lip, Race glanced around. If he was going to do this, he had to do it quick. He pushed the hood back off of his head, almost confused when Jack’s features went from smug to concerned in only seconds. The younger boy refused to look at him after that. His big blue eyes darted down to the ground. Jack and him hadn’t been close in a long time. “Ya mean what ya said?” he asked, his voice a little watery. “That I’s always had a place here?”

The Manhattan leader pushed himself up, away from his car. “Did Conlon do that ta you?”

“Jack, I don’t-“

“Don’t defend him, Tyler. Did. He. Do this?”

The “this” that was being referred to was a bruised and busted up face of a seventeen year old kid. One of Race’s eyes was completely swollen shut. His nose was so bruised, Jack wasn’t sure it wasn’t broken. His lip was split and there was a nasty burn right by his temple.

Race could only shrug. “What difference does it make?”

Shaking his head, Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Because despite everythin’ that happened between us, you’s still my little brother. If he hurts you, he ain’t gettin’ away with it.”

The younger boy’s heart ached at that. He didn’t know what to say. He just locked his eyes on Jack and shrugged. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked again. He was beginning to get desperate.

Jack bit his lip. He glanced around. “This a setup, kid?”

“They know that car’s loaded.” A flash of anger and betrayal crossed over Kelly’s face and Race raised up his hands in defense. “Spot sent me ta distract you. But I mean it, Jack. I wanna come home!” The tremor in his voice was real. Brooklyn wasn’t his home. Brooklyn was his escape from his problem. It wouldn’t last forever. And it would only proved to be more trouble than it was worth. He shouldn’t have run. He knew that. But he’d been too proud to admit it. “I know you don’t trust me! You don’t have to!” he stumbled out quickly. “In thirty seconds someone’s gonna break in through that top window, three guys are gonna come in through that door, and the rest of Spot’s crew is gonna break through the front!”

Jack scowled, clearly frustrated with this new piece of information. “How do I know ya ain’t playin’ a trick on me, kid? Huh?”

Holding back the sob that built in his throat, Race shrugged once again. “Ya don’t,” he replied brokenly. He knew how much he’d screwed up. He had family. And he’d thrown it away. He hadn’t recognized the treasure he’d had until it was gone. Now he was terrified he might never get it back. “But I miss you, Jack. I don’t wanna fight no more...”

The twenty four year old looked his kid brother up and down skeptically for a moment. He reached for his pistol at his back and then he looked around as he took all of the bullets out. And, without any warning, he pointed the empty gun at the boy’s head.

“Get in the car,” he smirked, nodding towards the thing. Race gave him a watery grin in return. This was it. He was going home. He did as he was told without a word, rushing towards the passenger seat and getting in, watching Jack doing the same on the driver’s side.

His big brother was smart. If Spot thought Kelly was taking him by force, they wouldn’t ever know he’d betrayed them. He watched as Jack reached into his glove compartment. Race groaned when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Really?”

“Make it look real, kid. If Conlon knows you’s pulled a fast one on him, he’ll shoot you in the face.” So Race complied, letting his brother cuff his right wrist to a handle inside the door, so his arm was raised above his head. “Ready?” he asked, starting up the car. Race grasped onto the chain above his hand and held tightly to the door beside him. He knew what was about to happen.

A car chase. Someone was bound to get hurt. They could only pray it wouldn’t be them.

“Three on motorcycles, n’ they’s got two cars,” Race informed, squeezing his eyes shut. Jack had one hand on the wheel and the other still had the empty gun pointed at him. “This car armored?”

“Ya think I’d be drivin’ it outta here if it wasn’t?” Jack replied with a scoff.

Glass shattered. Race flinched. Jack ignored it. A door busted down. Three Brookies rushed in, guns drawn, giant, stupid grins on their faces. Then they ran to the front garage door. They opened it, not even realizing Jack was already onto their plan. And there, standing front and center in the midst of a sea of young adults, was Spot freaking Conlon.

Jack glanced at Tyler’s beaten face, then back to the crowd in front of him. And the gas petal was on the ground.

It was almost funny, the way the toughest gang in New York, maybe even the entire goddamn country, scattered like they did. Jack let out a laugh as he watched them all cry out in frustration and rush to their vehicles to follow him. “Hold on, baby brother. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!”

Race groaned. “You sound way to excited about this...” Jack just let out a howl, practically a battle cry. The younger boy couldn’t help but laugh at that, no matter how nervous he was for the chase he knew was bound to happen.

If they went down, at least they’d be going down together.

#im bored #newsies #AU #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #spot conlon #angst #brothers #i have no idea whats going on

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stitchcasual · 5 years ago

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Ferelden Fury (a da2/pacrim au, part eight)

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven)

The race to get suited up and into their jaeger is a silent one. Hawke occasionally catches Fenris’s eye and they share a grim look, but neither of them speaks. There’s nothing to be said. Pre-flight checks are done with one-word questions and answers, and even Varric in the control room sounds uncharacteristically subdued when he authorizes their launch. And then they’re flown out toward the rift, the Fury, Siren, and Warden out front as the Child launches a few moments later, behind the protective barrier of the other three jaegers.

There’s a minute of half-hearted strategy talk between the three forward jaegers, then they all fall quiet, watching their instruments as the rift gets closer and closer. Eventually they come close enough to the darkspawn signatures for them to appear on the sensors, and Hawke can’t help but let out a low whistle. The size on them is larger than anything Hawke ever faced while he was a pilot and larger still than the darkspawn they faced a few days ago.

“Fuck,” Isabela says over the comms.

Beside Hawke, Fenris hums in agreement.

“One minute to drop.” Bethany’s voice comes through clear as a bell, and Hawke, not for the first time, admires the amount of steel that infuses his little sister at the same time as he hates that she has to employ it.

He reaches out to Fenris through the waves of their drift and finds Fenris reaching back. They stand shoulder to shoulder and watch the tides pulling at them, the persistent memories that demand their attention, and they guide each other through them, offering the fury of their own storm to combat the force of the other. In time, they come to the new forged center of their hurricanes, grim and stony and ready to fight.

The Fury lands, their feet sinking deep into the earth, and strides toward the darkspawn. The Siren and Warden fall behind and to either side of them, and the thunderous crash of their legs hitting the ground in unison sends tremors through the world and up into Hawke’s heart. The excitement that preludes a battle courses through him, and he feels an answering surge from Fenris through their connection. This might be their last battle, they both know it, but the only regret Hawke can feel in the drift is that they didn’t have more time together. They’re still together, though, for what it’s worth, and right now it’s worth everything.

Hawke reaches out to hit the comms. “So...do we have a plan?”

“Fuck up the darkspawn,” Isabela says.

“Keep them off the Child,” Zevran says a beat later.

“Try to engage both ‘spawn, Fury,” says Riordan. “You’re tougher, can take more hits. We can flank with the Siren, try to get them while they’re distracted.”

“Thank you, Warden.” Fenris smiles. “Follow our lead.”

The idea Hawke feels floating toward him spreads a slow grin across his face, and he chuckles as the Fury picks up their pace, running full tilt toward the darkspawn. Both targets turn and twist toward the Fury when they come close enough, hissing and spitting at this obvious enemy in their territory. The Fury doesn’t stop its forward momentum when it reaches the darkspawn, just reaches out with both arms to grab at any piece of darkspawn and yanks the two beasts toward each other.

It doesn’t daze them near as much as would have been truly preferable, but combat with the darkspawn is never anything less than a masterclass in improvisation. They reverse grip on the ‘spawn in their right hand and use their thrusters to assist in kneeling down quick and hard, slamming its head into the ground. It topples and writhes, and as it’s held down, the Siren’s double blades come in to slash at its unprotected back. The thing thrashes so hard it throws both the Fury and the Siren off, standing and swinging its massive head between the two jaegers, as though assessing which it should attack.

The Fury makes up its mind for it, sending a couple shoulder rockets in to detonate along its belly, and the darkspawn charges back in at them, attacking the last thing to damage it. As soon as it’s back within range, the Fury hooks their hand into the creature’s jaw, holding on tight.

On their left, the Warden charges for the other darkspawn, slamming their left arm into the darkspawn, bashing it with the shield plates that line their arm. The Warden looks like it should be the tank, the way it’s armed: their favored weapon is a greatsword that springs from their right arm in separate pieces, held together by some sort of forcefield that allows it to bend and flex to stab into darkspawn from unexpected angles, and their left arm is fully three times the size of any other jaeger’s arm thanks to the heavy plates that spread out to form an elongated diamond shape. The Warden is a defensive jaeger, never meant to be a frontline fighter, but they’ve all had to do things in this war they weren’t initially prepared to do.

The Warden’s sword stabs into the darkspawn and hooks around within its body, effectively anchoring the darkspawn to the Warden unless it wants to tear out a large chunk of its body to escape. The Fury grips tighter to both darkspawn as the Siren and the Warden beat and slash at the creatures, slowly whittling them down.

“Child!” Hawke yells, his arms shaking from the strain of keeping two darkspawn contained. “Now’s your best shot at the rift, so you better goddamn take it!”

He can see the blip on his sensors that indicates the Child’s position pick up speed, juking out from behind the screen of the other jaegers as it runs for the rift. This better fucking work, but he has no time to think about that right now as the darkspawn impaled by the Warden picks up its terrible clawed hind feet and sinks them into the Fury’s left thigh, ripping past the protective plates to strike at the vulnerable cables and wiring running through the Fury’s core.

Hawke screams as his own leg buckles beneath him, grunting as he forces himself to stand on it anyway, keeping the Fury upright though unstable. The Warden’s shield arm strikes in at the darkspawn’s legs, forcing it to detach from the Fury or lose its limbs to the jagged edge of the shield. Somehow the Fury has kept hold of the darkspawn through that, and Hawke headbutts it in retribution. Through the drift, he can feel Fenris’s amusement at that layered underneath his concern for Hawke’s injury. Hawke pushes back as much reassurance as he can when the failing circuits in the Fury’s nearly ruined leg are sending spasms of pain up the biofeedback loop that lets them control the jaeger in the first place. He knows Fenris can feel it too, connected as they are, but he still doesn’t want him to worry. That’s a good way to slip out of alignment.

The Child’s marker has disappeared from the sensors when he looks, and since he didn’t hear screaming from Meredith or Orsino, he’s going to assume that’s a good thing and they’re still on their way to the rift. Once again he drops the other jaeger from his mind in favor of focusing on the present moment, where he has not just one but two darkspawn attempting to rip him and Fenris to shreds, and succeeding, to various degrees.

The Fury wasn’t built to be a hand-to-hand combatant but that was the way Hawke preferred to fight, and over the years when he and Aveline piloted together, the techs on base slowly modified the giant jaeger to complement his fighting style. There are some ranged weapons on board, there have to be when you’re fighting darkspawn, but most of her kit is designed for close quarters combat. Which is a real good thing right now, as Hawke doesn’t think he’s ever been closer to a darkspawn in his life.

“Fenris,” he says.

“Wrist blade,” Fenris answers, and the Fury’s right hand bends ninety degrees to allow a short, wickedly serrated blade to emerge, punching up and into the darkspawn’s throat. It gurgles and jerks erratically, trying to get away from the Fury and only succeeding in ripping the wound in its neck larger. If things keep on like this, Hawke feels confident they’ll be able to finish off these darkspawn before too long, and then the Child will have nothing to worry about.

“Skyhold, we may have an issue.” Meredith’s tone is clear and precise, with nothing in it to indicate just how big an issue the Child might be facing. Her next words clear that right up, however: “There’s another darkspawn in the rift.”

(part nine)

#dragon age 2 #pacific rim #fenhawke #hawris #da2 #ferelden fury #it's about time for an update!!!#somehow i stopped writing at a fight scene #that's so unlike me #anyway #working on the next bit and hoping to get it up as soon as possible too

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lon3lynation · 5 years ago

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A Clexa AU Story that includes a soul searching road trip, long-distance friendship to relationship, phone conversations and Clarke demanding her car back from a thieving dick Lexa. Oh, and a lot of internal Lexa thoughts.

Chapter 2: Midnight City

Previous Chapter

"Waiting in a car Waiting for a ride in the dark Drinking in the lights Following the neon signs

Waiting for a word Looking at the milky skyline The city is my church It wraps me in its blinding twilight

Waiting in a car Waiting for the right time Waiting in a car Waiting for the right time"

Midnight City by M83

Five years later…

Anya’s mentoring truly paid off in many ways for her. No longer did she have to scrape by to cover her essential needs. She didn't have to rely on trying to live on minimum wage and shitty tips anymore. She didn't even need to work a proper job unless she was bored with nothing else to do in a specific town. She could finally set aside her worries and focus solely on figuring herself out.

Unfortunately, figuring herself out still felt like a far fetch goal as the years passed.

There were days where she felt most content when Anya was around. She made sure to savor her time with her because her mentor doesn't like to stay in one place for too long. They would go months without seeing each other before reuniting in another state with new stories to share.

Most days though Lexa still very much felt like a shell of her former self.

She had hoped that when she struck out on her own several years ago, that it would lead her to a rebirth of sorts. It was supposed to be the thing to save her. She wanted to claw her way out of her shell and be someone new.

Someone that felt whole.

She wasn't whole.

Everything felt like jagged pieces that stabbed her insides. Time had not healed nor repaired the damage that had been done. She felt everything and nothing at all at once.

Her crimes became the glue to hold the pieces of herself somewhat together. It wasn't perfect. Pieces were missing and not fitting right as they should with the glue trying to hold it all together in some incomplete shape.

It may not be much but she was thankful for the little relief it offered her. She was glad for the itch, the thrill and adrenaline it gave her. It became her purpose.

Anya did quite well training her to practically become an expert thief and fighter. There had been a lot of trial and error in the first couple of years that resulted in jail time. She didn't like jail. It gave her too much time to think and made her feel trapped. Feeling trapped beneath her own skin was already claustrophobic enough for her. After her last stint two years ago, she made sure to never allow herself to get caught in the process again.

So far, so good.

However, her life began to feel too repetitive lately; too routine. She'd travel to another small town, scope out opportunities to steal more money, settle for a short time there before finding herself back on the bus to take her to a new destination to repeat the process all over again.

It suited her well the first few years and gave her a sense of freedom by getting to choose what she wanted to do next. It was also a major comfort not to stress over money-related things anymore. It had been good enough to distract her from the fact that something was still missing in her life. She hadn't quite experienced total freedom like she's been longing for since having her heart shattered twice at 16.

After all, how does one find freedom from themselves?

It was earlier in the year when the sudden realization came to her that something needed to change. After hopping from town to town for so long, her excitement faded as she began noticing how similar each town actually was. It was becoming mundane and that's not what she wanted for her wandering journey. It did slightly amuse her hearing how people truly believed that their small town was safe from bad people and crime.

How willfully ignorant.

It was all the same to her. When she had envisioned running away years ago, she always had this image in her mind of herself driving a car, windows down to let the wind blow through her hair while road tripping across the United States.

She imagined it would be memorable, serene, and exhilarating. Perhaps that was the way she could finally attempt to unburden herself. It would be hard to sort through but she knew there was still a lot of stuff inside her that she needed to unpack. Being out on the open road by herself sounded like the best way to find the missing pieces of herself and a chance to smooth out the jagged edges.

A month ago, a plan began to form when she arrived in New York for the first time. It has been a while since she felt total anticipation and awe when she took in the sights that New York City offered. Maybe she needed to start looking through a tourist lens to a better experience. She liked it so much, she stayed to explore more and decided that this was where she'll put her plan in motion.

It was time to steal a car.

It would be the first time Lexa would steal a car on her own and for herself. She had tagged along with Anya a handful of times to steal vehicles just so she could learn how or because it was a delivery job. Her favorite memories were seeing how much Anya enjoyed joyriding and doing donuts in an empty lot. It had been such a pleasant surprise to see her friend freely laughing and smiling.

It had softened her enough to join in the laughter and enjoy the pure adrenaline as Anya continued to spin them rapidly at great speed leaving skid marks on the lot.

It was a memory Lexa held on tightly.

After doing some scouting of different parking lots in the area, she eventually found an ideal spot that she could case for cars. It was a convenience store on the corner that didn't have a well-lit parking lot and only had one working camera at the entrance. She figured with the lack of lighting and a hoodie, she'll remain anonymous even if the camera's quality happened to be decent or not.

As luck would have it while waiting in the shadows nearby for a perfect opportunity, a dark-colored Jeep Wrangler parked near the back of the lot away from the entrance of the store. She slinked a little closer when two female figures exited the car. One appeared to be blonde and the other was a brunette. She watched the two young women enter the store when she suddenly realized she hadn't heard any sounds signaling that the car had been locked.

This was her chance.

Lexa double-checked that her hood was still in place before smoothly walking toward the Jeep and glancing around to see if there were any potential witnesses. There was none. She cautiously opened the car door ready to run if she had been mistaken and the alarm went off. Thankfully, she was correct that it was left unlocked during the women's rush into the store. The owner of the car would very much regret that soon enough.

All Lexa could hear was the rapid pounding of her heart while she quickly set to work to start up the car and take off.

There was no turning back now.

Feeling the steering wheel in her hands, Lexa gripped it until her knuckles turned white as her foot stayed pressed against the pedal of the stolen Jeep Wrangler. Her heart was racing as she constantly checked the mirrors and the road, almost expecting to see flashing blue and red lights of a cop car following her.

No police car in sight. No flashing lights or sirens to be heard.

She still did not loosen her tight grip on the wheel. Not yet. Not until the anxiety that filled her body, that made it tremor, and her racing heart began to lose its hold on her once she felt she was safe from being caught.

Lexa drove out of the city, passed through some more, determined to leave New York altogether. Only then, she’d imagine, it would be enough to feel like she really managed to escape. That she wasn’t going to get caught instantly and that she could actually go through with this idea of hers to travel across the country.

What she hadn't expected was nearly driving herself off the road in fright when a phone suddenly rang from the passenger seat. Cursing quietly to herself, she glanced to the seat where she had tossed her overstuffed backpack, which had apparently hidden the phone beneath it.

Biting her lip, Lexa chose to ignore it, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t try calling again. She needed to focus on the road and getting the hell out of New York. Once she did, she would have to eventually stop and get some rest, not to mention get an idea of where she was headed first.

However, before she could breathe a sigh of relief when the ringing stopped, it rang again and again and each time Lexa ignored it.

It was putting her further on edge, and after the 9th call, Lexa angrily snatched it from beneath her bag and answered it.

There was a brief moment of silence before suddenly a female voice began yelling through the phone.

"Hey, asshole! You stole my friend's car! We're gonna stick the po--” the sound of struggling and cursing suddenly interrupted before it tapered off into a moment of silence.

Then…

A new voice is heard on the other line.

“You actually answered?”

Lexa detected disbelief in the new voice before it turned angry.

“It was my car that you have stolen. Do you have any idea how long I saved up to get that Jeep? I just bought it like 4 months ago. Only for some thieving dick to come along to pretend it was theirs now.”

Lexa furrowed her brow, still watching the road as she listened to the woman whose car she had stolen. If she wasn’t inwardly berating herself for answering the phone instead of simply shutting it off, she would almost be amused at being called a thieving dick. Anya would have a laugh.

She was quite aware that she was a thieving something.

“Do you often decide to completely screw over and inconvenience citizens? Because I am definitely feeling inconvenienced right now. I'm meant to be at a friend's surprise birthday party right now and be the bringer of alcohol.”

Suddenly the first voice Lexa heard piped up in the background of the call. She overheard the name “Clarke” which must be the car owner's name.

“I want my damn car back. Are you even listening? Hello Mr. Criminal? Answer me!”

Lexa found herself gripping the cell phone tighter in her hand.

It was a little annoying to be assumed as a male. It's not the first time she's heard it.

"What do you have to say for yourself, huh? At least give me enough decency to answer me while I’m questioning you."

Lexa quietly scoffed as she debated if and how she would respond. It couldn’t hurt to momentarily speak to this person, and oddly enough it was actually a helpful distraction from how on edge she was during her escape.

Clearing her throat, she decided to humor the woman and maybe even stall her from reporting her car missing since it seems Clarke and her friend had chosen to call her stolen phone first in an attempt to guilt-trip her.

"Are you done with your failed guilt trip, Clarke?” Lexa questioned in return, purposely including Clarke's name to hopefully unnerved her. “It's simple, really. I needed a car and yours just happened to appear at the opportune time for me to steal it.”

There's a gasp, a rustle over the phone and what sounded like muffled voices until Clarke’s voice came through clear again.

Lexa smirked briefly, pleased with her success to unnerve the girl.

"What the hell for? How do you know my name? And no, I am nowhere near done with the guilt trip.”

How insistently stubborn, she thought with a sigh.

“I needed it to travel. You should tell your friend to be more careful about what she says in the background.”

There's a groan after the realization of how she learned it and then a couple muffled curses were exchanged.

"There are other means of transportation, you know? It didn't have to come to this.”

"Those other means of transportation are exactly the reason why I decided it was time to get a car."

“Who are you? Where are you going with my car?”

Lexa scoffed once again amazed that Clarke would actually think she’d reveal her name or whereabouts to her.

"I am a criminal. Telling you my name or where I am would be a mistake on my part. Wouldn’t want to increase the odds of getting caught, now would I?"

"Look, you need to turn around and return the car to me. Do that and then just maybe I won’t involve the police and we can just settle this between us."

Did she think of Lexa a gullible idiot? She was sadly mistaken.

"No. I can’t do that, and I can’t trust that you wouldn’t have the cops waiting to arrest me if I were to ever entertain the thought of doing so. It’s too risky and honestly, I don’t take too kindly to being ordered around. You’ll just have to use those other means of transportation you mentioned, Clarke."

"Ha ha. I don't know what you really plan on doing with my car. If you really are just driving around or plan to strip it for parts but it doesn't have to come to that, okay?”

Lexa’s jaw twitched when she noticed the husky voice on the other end had softened.

“How about this? You can abandon the car, tell me its location and I can retrieve it. We can dismiss this as a stupid mistake and not involve the cops. See? You can trust me. So, please return --"

"No. This is something I have to do. I've been planning this all out!” Banging her fist against the steering wheel, Lexa could feel her anxiety and tension returning. Clarke was no longer being a good little distraction.

“Then undo those stupid plans! How could you ever think to commit such a crime was a grand plan to have? Anyone else would have already reported their car stolen and I'm trying to work with you here. You can trust --”

“Shut up!” Lexa shouted as anger began to bubble up to the surface and spill into the conversation. “Don't delude yourself, Clarke. I don't know you and you don't know me. There are zero trusts here.”

Lexa tensed thinking she saw a police car down a street and eased up on the pedal. The last thing she needed was to be pulled over for speeding in this car.

“Well, I am not giving up. I'm determined now to make this happen.”

“No.”

“I won't report the car stolen. We can come to an understand--”

“I'm done,” Lexa interrupted again. “You're not getting it back. Deal with it.” Lexa has had enough of this conversation. She needed to be hyper-aware of her surroundings and drive as far as she could before exhaustion could claim her.

As she ended the call, cutting Clarke off mid-pleads, she softly whispered before she realized what she was about to say and swallowed the rest down. “I’m...”

I'm sorry -- she was going to say.

Lexa couldn't remember the last time she apologized to anyone for something she did. This was not the time for any sort of apologizes though because she didn't regret taking the vehicle.

Powering the phone off, she chucked it back on the passenger seat and took a moment to appreciate the sudden silence and the passing city lights.

Now she was feeling a little guilty but she had meant it when she said she had to do this. She wasn’t about to turn back around and possibly get thrown in jail again when she was so close to finally reaching her original dream of being on the open road and hopefully make peace with her past.

So, she ruthlessly stumped down the guilt.

Lexa just needed to get as much distance as she could from New York.

It was going to be a long night.

#Clexa TDBU #clexa #clexa au #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #There's Distance Between Us #myfic #my writing

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genuinelyjustjd · 6 years ago

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The Greek Gods Are Done.

Zeus is still the king of the gods, but he no longer uses his crown to rule the skies. His sons and daughters, his sisters and brothers, they now plan to kill all of those destined to bring forth pain to their world. No one escapes the wrath of his thunderbolt any longer. He glares at his enemy’s dead bodies with the same blue eyes that watched them with wonder eons ago.

Hera loves Zeus with all her heart, but she hates what he has become. She too has succumbed to the pain of the millions of families being separated, all the children who lost their parents, all the parents whose kids were kidnapped and killed. She now is an assassin of false lovers who try to break families apart, but she won’t hesitate to slay a father if a little girl walks up to her and tells her that he beats her.

Poseidon’s earthquakes bring tremors to the minds people he once loved. His kingdom polluted just as much as Zeus’s is. All of the creatures he swore to protect have faded into dust and are now being devoured by the people who don’t deserve it. He brings forth endless squalls to those who’ve lied and decimated his world. He misses the times when the sea was used to explore, but in his free time, he walks the beaches of the Pacific, picking up the trash that people have left behind, hoping for it to not destroy the land he loves anymore.

Demeter remembers the times when her plants were used to replenish nations, but now they are crumbling to dust. The smoke in the air has made her miss the times when she would rule the gardens back in Greece, and though she may miss it, she knows she’s doing right now. She uses her scythe for reaping, though she used to use it for replenishing nations. And for every soul she steals, she replaces their bodies with beautiful plants and delivers the souls to her daughter who she knows would take good care of them. She misses her daughter and Pan. But she knows that one will never come back and the other has too much to do in this somber world.

Ares has seen enough bloodshed to hate what he does, but his addiction thrives strong among many. He uses the weapons of war to strike fear into onlookers who choose to harm people who’ve lost it all in his dance. But he is weak. The trail of blood that he leaves behind is all that remains of his spirit. He is angry. The politicians that use his weapons against the world have no respect for what war really meant. He has slain those who don’t believe, and he picks up those who’ve seen too much. He is the kindest among the few, now.

Athena has made strategies to save millions, but she’s so tired of being wise. She fights with all the people who have been raped, for she will always remember her uncle’s sins years ago, and her father’s as well. She talks to those who have nothing left, and when or if they die, she makes sure Hades’ puts them into Elysium. Because they deserve joy. Her art is no longer seen as beautiful, and the people who bear her spirit are seen as outcasts. But she too is tired of seeing their art on their wrists.

Artemis no longer take care of the moonset, for they’re too busy with their father’s wishes. She resides on rooftops, smoking a cigar as she and her brother snipe their next victims. In the day, Artemis walks the streets alone, her gun hidden. She knows that if she is seen by the police, no one would rescue her. She fears for the other women who have walked the trail too. Her hunters now lay alone in shelters, because she wasn’t able to protect them. She fights beside those who don’t need love and those who are unsatisfied with who they are.

Apollo’s sun chariot had crashed years ago, and Helios is back to bearing his burden. Apollo during the day sings for money because he cannot get any other job. He walks down the boulevard, healing those who are too weak to breathe and cheering up the boy who was beaten by the other kids who’ve tormented for years. And at night, he will lay with his sister on rooftops, talking about those he’s lost and looking at the stars, all the while regretting what he did to Orion so many years ago.

Hephaestus resides far below where Zeus stands, forging and repairing what his family has broken on their endeavors. He is shamed in public, so he doesn’t leave his humble abode any longer, but he won’t hesitate to trap those who’ve shamed the people like him. Whenever he can, though, he builds prosthetics for those who have lost it all in Ares’ acts. While he may despise his wife’s admirer, he will still help him, because the trauma that he is seen is much alike to the trauma his parents gave him long ago, when he was tossed off the world and rendered what he sees as the monster he is now.

Aphrodite’s work has not gotten easier. She remembers her love for her husband and for Ares, but she knows that she won’t be able to see them anymore. While she fights for women who feel unsafe every day, she cries the most every night for the love broken by death, abuse, and betrayal. She has become alike to the sirens, using her body to lure men and women who’ve sinned to their demise, and with each act, her body feels more and more disgusting. She can’t look at herself in the mirror anymore, but she sure as hell will fight for those who hate their bodies as much as she does because all bodies are meant to be beautiful. She just can’t believe that her own ever was.

Hermes doesn’t associate himself with his family anymore. He instead relays warning to those that are innocent but are still targeted by his father. But when given the offer, Hermes will steal what he needs. His family cherishes him for his trickster-like nature but despises him for his morals. He regrets so much of what they’ve done. But he will always protect the people who walk his path. The robin hoods of mankind will always have his blessing. The merchants who’ve lost it all will be given new chances. He believes there's still good in us, in mankind. But Zeus knows he will be like Prometheus. And for that, he may perish.

Dionysus is the man who can get you anything you need. He tends the bar of the gods, and won’t hesitate to drug the sinners of society. He causes madness in a simple glance, and though he may not throw parties any longer, his spirit is as wild as it was years ago. He will always protect the people in society who don’t identify as what they were given because he too was that way. He protects those who deal with depression, anxiety, and any mental illness that is given to the innocents of this world. But he never will hesitate. He knows better.

Hades and Persephone sit together in their throne room, their love undying. They control the punishments of those who’ve harmed, and though Hades may seem dark, everyone who knows the duo knows that if Hades is fucked with, Persephone would be the one to bring forth all of their pain. Cerberus still sits in the underworld, waiting for his master’s return. The rulers of the underworld remain unchanged nonetheless because the afterlife doesn’t change, it expands. They will fight together for the POC who are punished for who they are. And together, they save lives. This wasn’t what they planned.

And Hestia, beautiful Hestia of the hearth, is still on Olympus. She is unaware of what her family has done, but she isn’t naive. But she blocks out all of it, because she believes they will come home soon. She’s prepared all of their favorite foods, she has set up all their favorite songs. She sits waiting. The fire from her palms are the only thing to entertain her, and her voice may be cracked but it still is hopeful. She has become Pandora, and she will protect hope with her life. But she waits for a family that will never come home. And she will be alone for forever. She will never know.

#greekgods #fUKBOI SUPREME #the gods aren't dead #slay #dionysus is still an icon #bae #aphrodite is a sweetheart and anyone who doesn't believe that fight me irl #hephaestus is a good man #ares has feelings too #RIP Orion can we get an F in the chat #Hestia we love you #artemis is still a kickass aromantic #apollo we forgive you #greek gods mafia au #okay i've made myself sad #sorry i'm done geeking out now.

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nikkalia · 6 years ago

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Gotta Get It Right: Chapter 11

TITLE: Gotta Get It Right: Easier To Run

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 11

SUMMARY: Aleksa lives as an Inhuman at SHIELD's beckon call, but dreams of another life have her questioning everything she’s ever known. Just when she's settled into a life of peace and quiet, she's called back to duty. Enter Loki.

PAIRING: Loki/OFC RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger warning: language, PTSD, torture and violence.

No real notes for this....hat tip to @fandom-and-feminism for the willingness to beta when my brain shuts down :)

Tumblr masterlist Also on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409323/chapters/42219167

Feedback is always appreciated (just being an attention whore screaming for comments/reblogs)

Tags: @christy-winchester @hovianwookie86-captainxev @wolfsmom1 @fadingcoast @mrshiddleston-uk @fandom-and-feminism @igotloki @mischievousbellerina @odinsonsobsessed

Loki emerged the en suite as he pulled the tunic over his wet hair. There was no evidence of the maiden that had warmed his bed not twenty minutes prior. Despite the release he’d found in her arms, he still wasn’t able to relax. Continued rumors of traitors in the council, coupled with growing tensions with Alfheim, weighed on him more each day. On top of it all was the distant voice of the Other haunting his dreams.

A soft knock yielded a scullery maid delivering his nightly tea. He nodded and she quickly departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Long fingers wrapped around the handle of the teapot, tilting it to pour the herbal blend. The cup rattled softly, giving Loki pause. A deep breath brought another attempt to pour that ended with papers and books falling across the room.

“What the Hel?” he mumbled.

The entire palace suddenly shook. Sirens wailed their alert, drowning out the panicked cries of servants and guards in the halls. Loki entered the corridors, the last bits of his armor shimmering into existence.

“Skurge!” he shouted over the din. The burly man met him near a staircase, dodging people as they moved to the side. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure,” Skurge panted, “but it’s coming from the substructure.”

The woman. If this another escape...

The vault lay open, doors blown wide. Cautiously, he stepped inside and choked when he saw what was happening. One of the vault’s guards lay on the floor, the other on his knees to one side of the massive portal swirling in the center of the room. The woman held his head inches from the edge in one hand, screaming at him in a language Loki couldn’t immediately identify. Her free hand was directed at the Tesseract lying on the floor, golden seider passing between them. Summoning all the authority he could find, Loki moved down the staircase.

“And what do we have here?”

Aleksa’s head angled slightly before turning to look over her shoulder, a sinister smirk crossing her face. She shifted slowly to face him, releasing her grip on the guard just long enough for him to attempt to flee. Seider continued to flow from her body into the Tesseract as she clamped down on the guard’s collar, pulling him back to her side.

“Fury?” he whispered, confused.

Another energy wave pulsed from the Tesseract, causing everyone in the room to stagger. The woman’s slow return to her feet gave Loki an opportunity to see the location on the other side of the portal. The desert he’d seen before the woman’s escape blazed behind her, the blinding white sands a stark contrast to the black earth closest to the portal’s edge.

A desert, he thought. Fury reported picking her up in a desert with scorched sand. That she’d...

“She’s hallucinating.” he mumbled, a plan already forming in his mind as he signaled the guards to stay behind him while he moved forward.

“What’d you think you’re doing, Colonel?”

“What does it look like, Nick? I’m interrogating the prisoner.” She growled, squeezing the guard’s neck, eliciting a pained howl.

“We talked about this, Lex.” Loki stepped a bit closer, replaying the conversation he’d read about months ago in his head. “You find the cube, I ask the questions.”

“If you’re not working for me, who are you working for?”

Mock confusion crossed her face. “Same guy you are, Nick. Gideon Malick.”

“I don’t answer to him, Lex. Neither do you.”

Remnants of a burned-out village came into view through the growing portal. Loki knew if he didn’t separate her from the Tesseract, the portal would tear the palace apart. Even if it didn’t, she might.

“I know. Just like I know these aren’t your run of the mill terrorists,” he gestured to the guards. “And I know this isn’t who you really are.”

Aleksa balked. “Then what am I, Director? Hmm? A good soldier? An honorable warrior?” She snarled. “A healer?”

“Yes.” Loki was close enough to touch her and began to maneuver himself between her and the Tesseract. “You’re all of those things, Aleksa. You’re not a cold-blooded killer. You won’t slaughter innocents...”

“Innocents?” she screamed. “These soulless bastards,” she gestured to the guard on the floor, “aren’t innocent! The men in this camp weren’t innocent. And the villagers? The ones who harbored these animals. Fed them, clothed them, watched them slaughter my team one by one, watched them cut their...” she faltered, the white light from the portal reflecting in the tears running down her face. “They are. Not. Innocent. No one is. Especially you.”

“You’re right.” Fury’s voice fell evenly from Loki’s lips. “But you’re better than this. Let us take care of this one.” He reached out one hand while trying to send the Tesseract into a pocket dimension. “Let me take you home.”

Her features softened and, for one brief moment, Loki thought he’d gotten through to her. Her eyes turned dark and the sinister smile returned.

“We both know I’m going to die here. And you will too.”

Aleksa lunged at him, falling through the illusion to the floor. She rolled to her feet in time to see the Tesseract vanish above his hand. She howled and scrambled for the rapidly closing portal. Loki dove for her, knocking her back to the floor. She struggled against him, screaming incoherently between languages, begging to be released. A few moments passed after the portal closed before she stilled.

Loki backed away, cautiously waving the Einherjar in to retrieve their comrades and secure the palace. The remaining guards surrounded Aleksa with weapons at the ready. Loki knelt in front of where she sat on the floor.

“Colonel?”

Aleksa didn’t respond. She just stared at the spot where the portal had been, whispering incoherently. Just as he began to rise, she spoke in a voice that sparked both sorrow and fear in his heart.

“Kill me.”

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #loki fanfic #avengers fanfic #Loki/OFC #gotta get it right

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