#silent observer: dash comm

[myriad-mage]

“Edric Maximus Blight and Emira Corinne Blight?” Alex would mutter to himself, overhearing the proclamation of the twins separate middle names. 

“Honestly, makes Ed sound very energetic and brave, so it fits him. Corinne is a rather pretty and graceful middle name, so it suits Mira.” His words were more for himself than for anyone else.

[bijoumikhawal]

Dakh’voh pthak

For Bad Things Happen Bingo: Toxic Gas. Additional warnings for canon typical violence and anti-augment sentiment, set in a daemon AU

Vulcan mantras are from: https://visakavuhlkansuvulcanlegacy.wordpress.com/vulcan-mantras-zhit-kohlanlar-vuhlkansu/

Read on AO3

---

Julian turned to get to the docking bay, only to immediately bump into someone, making him drop his bag.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, oh, fucking-" It was another science officer, with their own dropped bag.

"It's fine." Julian mentally winced at his own tone. "I wasn't looking where I was going." he said, more gently.

The other officer bent over picking up the bags. "And I was looking, but I ran right into you. I- damnit, I really am sorry, I have a debriefing." She handed him his bag. "This one's yours, I think. Again, I'm really sorry, if you catch me in Rec Room 5 later I'll make it up to you." She ran off.

Julian rubbed his face as he slipped the strap over his shoulder to carry it properly, but he found himself smiling a bit.

He supposed there was something nice about hearing the word "sorry" from someone who didn't know him at all.

Kukalaka wove around his feet. "We're going to be late."

"No, we aren't." After a moment of thought, Julian picked her up and started walking.

Kukalaka bristled for a moment, but settled into the carry. She was picky about anything thst could lead to someone thinking of her like "a baby"- it was a carry over for cat daemons from how people saw their pets. Many people mistook her for a Bengal or Savannah, and did not realize that her form was that of a wild cat. People still avoided touching her, of course- but just as Julian often found himself annoyed by people talking about his youth, so did she with the assumption that she was a housecat.

However, she did like to be held. Just rarely in public.

---

The building was dark. Julian mentally noted that the auxiliary lights needed to be repaired. Long shadows were cast by old storage units and pieces of equipment as he flicked on his torch.

He and Kukalaka walked slowly, carefully observing the contents of the room and the overall condition everything was in. This building seemed to be primarily storage, and disused. It wasn't especially interesting- no computer stations that he could see.

As he entered the second chamber of the building, his light went out.

Julian shook his light, annoyed. It didn't come back on. He sighed and put it back in his pocket. He and Kukalaka could see just fine without it.

There were four chambers in all, with two small refreshers and a small room Julian supposed might be an office, and a slightly larger room with a two tables indicating you could take lunch there. It took Julian about 40 minutes to make a full perimeter circuit in the dark.

He really needed to do more than just the perimeter, just in case, but to do that he'd need a light. He quickened his step as he saw the door again, and pressed the button to open it.

Nothing. Nothing? Again- nothing.

Julian hit his comm badge. "Bashir to Defiant. The door to Building H has locked. Does anyone know another way out of here?"

Kukalaka got up, balancing on her hind legs to try and inspect the door. It was silent as she looked carefully, sniffing a few times.

"Bashir to Defiant. I'm serious, I didn't see another exit on the map in the mission briefing."

Kukalaka's ears flicked. "Julian."

"Bashir to- yes?"

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, and I wish-" He paused. Then he listened again.

It was silent.

Meaning Julian couldn't hear the electrical hum he had heard nearly every minute of his life for the past several years.

"Damn." Julian's mind started racing. Kukalaka dashed off in one direction to look for another exit as Julian turned the other way to do the same.

If he couldn't hear the electricity, of course the door couldn't open. And worse; the manual override didn't work properly on some of the buildings. It was why up until now, this outpost had been used only sparingly. They had come to retrieve some cached arms, yes, but they were also helping O'Brien take stock of what shape everything was in to see how long it would take to prepare it for rigorous use during the war.

Part of Julian sarcastically remarked, well, there's one more strike against being able to use this place, as he kept walking, feeling the wall panels.

If it was just that, Julian could have waited it out. Maybe, maybe it would've been worth trying to force the door. It was too thick for him to try the phaser. But if he couldn't hear the electricity... then life support wasn't working either. And there were no stores of food or water in this building. 

He forced his breathing even, remembering a Vulcan exercise he used to calm himself.

Tash-tor kashek vukhut. Tash’voh kashek heh fa-wak zahal-tor vukhut.

One of the strategic possibilities for this outpost was that it consisted of several seperate buildings, spaced each a quarter mile apart, each with its own life support and atmospheric shield. It was an attractive redundancy, especially as they likely could upgrade the shields with defensive capabilities. Combined with the lower grade technology that could minimize it's presence on radars, well.

All of those particular characteristics reminded Julian of Camp 371.

If they were lucky, the atmospheric shield was still operational, and they'd been the only ones hit. He'd use his tricorder to see before they tried whatever exit they found, obviously. Once they were out, he should be close enough to visually signal someone, since his comm badge was on the fritz. If they couldn't find an exit, they had air for a more than a week. A few years ago, he wouldn't be tense at all about it- but with a war on...

Why was his comm badge on the fritz?

Tash-tor kashek vukhut. Tash’voh kashek heh fa-wak zahal-tor vukhut.

Focus. Focus.

---

Julian had circled the building twice, passing Kuks. It was on the larger side, and even though he wasn't tired, he took a rest anyway.

He pulled his bag into his lap and flipped it open, pulling out his tricorder and clicking it on.

Well. He tried to. The tricorder screen was black. Julian squinted as he tried it a few more times.

Tash-tor kashek vukhut. Tash’voh kashek heh fa-wak zahal-tor vukhut.

This was starting to feel like too many coincidences. He'd done his pre-mission check right before the meeting, since they had to board immediately afterwards. Everything had worked fine before then.

Julian heard a tinkling noise. Confused, he looked down at his feet, then around him. He hadn't stepped or sat on anything. It was too close to be Kukalaka.

He held open his bag to put the tricorder back.

Tash-tor kashek vukhut...

Julian gagged as a horrible smell hit his nose.

He saw what made the noise. A delicate little glass vial- about the size of his finger- now broken, with a simple circuit taped to it. The circuit, it seemed, had been triggered to shatter the glass.

Julian threw the bag as far away from him as he could out of instinct.

This wasn't a matter of coincidence.

His mind went back to the other science officer. The bags.

Had someone been trying to take out the Starbase? Or- perhaps her mission, and the vial had been timed wrongly, and the opportunity to present her with failed equipment hadn't gone as planned.

He picked up the bag again, cautious, and emptied it. There was the bits of glass, a dermal regenerator, a spare phaser, a hypospray, the trauma kit, a pair of gloves, a small tool kit, and that was it. It looked like she was also a doctor.

He slid on the gloves and felt along the lining.

His heart sank as he felt a large lump and a line of stitching. He tore it open and pulled out the offending object, about the size of his palm. A mobile EMP generator.

Julian forced himself to put it down gently instead of throwing it. It was evidence. His eyes watered, and he couldn't tell if it was from the smell or not.

The atmospheric shield might still be in place. This sort of device had a limited range at this size, and there was a perimeter of breathable air outside the building. But he had no way of finding out. And whatever was in that vial meant he had no way of knowing if he'd be alive by the time everyone else had noticed something was wrong.

Julian stood up. And for the first time in a very long time, he gave into the urge to scream.

---

Kuks had come running, of course. Their emotional bond wasn't as strong- consequences, consequences- and it was easy for one of them to have growing emotions of unease that the other only perceived as vague anxiety. But the scream was undeniable.

She let Julian hold her tight to his chest for awhile, rubbing her head against his face and neck as his fingers dug into her ribcage. But eventually, it was too much, and she had to squirm away.

"I'm going to keep looking for an exit."

"Kuks-"

"Julian." If she could stamp her feet with any seriousness, she would. "We aren't dead yet. How long has it been since the vial broke?"

"22 minutes."

"We aren't showing serious symptoms yet. It could be it's not concentrated enough to kill us for another hour, or even longer, because of how big the building is. Even if it isn't, we aren't dead yet."

Julian knew she was right (of course he did- she was himself and vice versa). But he didn't feel up to it.

She sighed. "Help look when you can." And with that, she bounded off again.

Julian sat there for a few minutes before forcing himself to get up and continue the search.

Not long after that, he started feeling dizzy. Rather- Kukalaka had started feeling dizzy, as there was a vague, achy quality that told him it wasn't this body feeling it yet.

He'd gotten used to the smell, but it was already everywhere. He didn't recognize it- it was godawful, and if it had ever shown up in any of his labs, he'd never have forgotten it. It made the dizziness worse.

He kept walking, feeling along the wall panel. He remembered the map so clearly, with its single marked exit point. Even if he found another door, it'd be the same as the first. What he really needed was a weak wall panel. Something he could pry off and shoot a hole though the other side, or something of the sort.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

It was so dark, his eyes hurt. They were strained, and he was fairly certain that gas vial was indeed irritating them.

He tugged on the neck of his undershirt. The old one had a bit of stretch, and he could've pulled it over his mouth and nose by now, protected them a bit.

He was almost directly across from where the vial had broken when the dizziness intensified, and he knew this body was feeling it too.

Julian pressed a hand over his mouth, desperate not to vomit. He was fairly certain it would only make things worse.

Dakh’voh pthak. Ri nam-tor ret na’fan-kitok abi’dakh odu pthak.

He kept walking. He wondered how Garak had known he recited Vulcan mantras- that crass little dig after he'd smacked his face into a bulkhead hadn't been random. He'd never mentioned it, though others knew- what a fascinating web it would be, if you could track the flow of the station rumor mill and chart it out.

Dakh’voh pthak. Ri nam-tor ret na’fan-kitok abi’dakh odu pthak.

Next chamber.

---

His head was spinning. Surely, someone had noticed by now? Gotten bored, tried to comm him- with one or two people spared for each building, the rest securing the cache or manning the Defiant, check in was at three hours. It had been three hours- longer than, actually, but who was counting? An hour and a half since the vial broke.

He'd stopped being able to walk ten minutes ago. He'd leaned against the wall for a break, and found himself sliding down, down, down it.

He wondered if Kukalaka had found a place with clearer air to stay. Her body was smaller, more susceptible- if one went, they both would. His eyes were hard to keep open already, and he couldn't tell which body was feeling it.

He wondered if he should've left a note with the abandoned bag. The vial and EMP seemed obvious enough, but what if they weren't? What if they thought-

Julian shuddered where he laid against the wall, gripped by a strange sensation. It wasn't a wholly unpleasant one, though it was clouded by the burning that had spread all over his face. Was that a symptom of whatever was in that vial?

There was a strange calm that came with it. That was nice, at least.

Julian hummed quietly to himself.

A streak of blue crossed his vision. Then again, flapping towards him.

"Butterfly...?" He hadn't hallucinated up to this point. This was new.

The streak of blue settled above his head, and started making a terrible racket. Julian lifted his shaking hands, trying to plug his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut, giving in to the urge to close them.

He thought he heard something else, but soon after his body felt weightless and heavy at the same time.

He wondered it it felt different, depending on which body went first.

---

He was certain no one had ever thought of Dr. Bashir as small before. Perhaps his daemon, comparatively, but even that seemed silly. Size was not their typical vulnerability.

It was telling that he and Itzik has sat at their bedside for quite some time before remembering to remove their air masks.

Dr. Bashir and Kukalaka had been intubated the second they'd gotten to the Defiant's infirmary, which had made flushing their eyes with water a bit of a hassle. Once the readings of uzducine gas exposure had come up, Chief O'Brien, their chief security officer, and several others had been immediately sent down to investigate.

Garak would naturally have volunteered to go with them, but his hands were full of (metaphorical) pins and needles. He wasn't sure he'd he useful. Given the others (and he had seen the regret and anger on their faces) would not be able to visit Dr. Bashir until they were underway back to the starbase, he felt obligated to sit vigil until relieved.

He kept thinking about the feeling of soft fur against his hands and in his arms.

His hands, currently, were curled tight in his lap. He had to resist the temptation to do something troublesome. Such as slamming some fingers into a drawer. 

The Defiant had different patient scrubs, and he liked them far better. These were a light grey-green. The tube crossing over them, he did not like- it was rigid and gross, provocative, primitive, exactly the sort of thing that made Garak avoid any infirmary as much as possible.

Dr. Bashir's hand twitched, and Garak straightened his posture immediately. Those damp, sticky lashes opened slowly.

Dr. Bashir looked around, gaze still unfocused- from the ceiling to the divider curtain to Garak for a long moment, then Kukalaka. Itzik had long since found a hidden perch. He gently began petting his daemon.

Garak looked away. "As I'm sure you have guessed, you have survived an attempt on your life once more. I must congratulate you again on your strength."

Something gripped Garak's hand and tugged. He looked back down.

Dr. Bashir was pulling on him with all his strength- which, considering, even with him in such a state, was hard to resist. Garak let his hand be pulled.

Dr. Bashir pressed Garak’s hand against his cheek and closed his eyes. There was a bit of unshaven hair by his ear- stiffer than the haunting sense memory, but enough that Garak's arm trembled slightly with the effort of resisting the urge to jerk his hand away.

Dr. Bashir's other hand kept stroking over Kukalaka.

He hadn't realized yet.

Oh yes, it had been necessary- by the time he had found her, she had collapsed. The fact that Dr. Bashir was still conscious right as Garak had found him was truly impressive, under the circumstances. To ensure no transporter problems through the thick walls of the buildings, you needed a working comm badge to latch onto.

Garak still couldn't imagine, even so, that Dr. Bashir would so easily forgive Garak manhandling his very soul, holding it in his arms like a small child. And worse- hesitating to let her go when the nurse indicated she needed to be put down on the biobed for intubation.

Or that, unspeakably, he wanted to do it again, kept thinking about it. Wait until no one could see, not even her human half, and cradle her in his arms again as shockwaves of alternating revulsion and shame crashed over him alongside adoration and wonder.

Garak slid his hand away, a contrasting guilt stinging him as Dr. Bashir's eyes opened again. "The nurse will be coming by to check on you in a moment."

---

Dr. Bashir and Kukalaka still needed to be intubated for awhile by the time they returned, and had to be moved very carefully as a result. Jadzia and the Chief naturally crowded around them once they were free of their duties, even managing to find some game to play with them to distract them from the tubes.

It had been a pitiful sight to watch them be shooed out as Julian was questioned for a witness statement. To watch their faces drop into heart wrenching worry and rage again.

Garak, naturally, was not requested to aid the investigation. He, naturally, did not let this stop him from keeping abreast of the matter. Should Starfleet be derelict, he would happily pick up the slack. He was contracted personnel now, after all.

It seemed a young woman- another doctor- had heard about Julian's personal history, and decided an augment was too dangerous to be allowed to live. She rather readily admitted it; from Sisko's notes, it seemed she had expected he would agree with her.

Finding a vantage point to watch as she and her daemon were loaded onto a transport after the court martial had been difficult, but necessary. He needed to know they were off the starbase.

Garak personally saw little wrong with executions. The Federation attitude towards them was laughable- death was a mercy.

Because death was a mercy, once the guilt was sealed, he did nothing. They would simply have to suffer a nice long life inside a cell.

Sisko sought him out not long afterward, brie furrowed with suspicion. His daemon padded along beside him.

"Mr. Garak."

"Captain." Garak tilted his head. "You needn't stand, there's a spare seat."

Sisko took it, leaning one of his forearms on the table as he looked at Garak with intensity. "I'm... surprised by you."

"Mm?" Garak took a sip of his drink. "Are you? What have I done now?"

"It's what you haven't done."

Garak widened his eyes. "Why, Captain. You personally reminded me this matter was best left to you and the other ranking officers- and I must say, you handled it quite well."

Sisko closed his eyes and raised his brows for a second. "Perhaps I believe that. But from what I hear, you haven't been to see Julian and Kukalaka since we got back either, and that makes me...suspicious."

Garak was glad his species' facial expressions were normally considered harder to read beyond what they intentionally telegraphed. "Your fellow officers have kept me busy, I'm afraid. After all, I'm the only contractor of my kind that they have." Garak lowered his voice. "I heard they tried reaching out to a few others, but they all declined."

Sisko's brow eased, and he sighed.

"What?"

"Nothing. I see I had nothing to worry about- nothing that I have to make a report on, at least." Sisko stood up. "Julian and Kukalaka are being fully discharged tomorrow. Back to full duty, allowed to stay in their own quarters again. In case you find some spare time."

[tvckerwash]

sharing some bits and bobs from a wash (and sort of tex) centric one shot I'll hopefully finish someday just because:

The second the barrage of bullets being directed at them by the two chain-gunners stopped, Wash and York were on their feet. Dashing out from behind the concrete pillars they’d been using for cover they ran across the catwalk to enter the main complex.

“We’re all clear, Carolina. We’ll be dark in less than sixty.” York said into his comm, cutting the connection at her confirmation.

When they reached the hallway York turned towards Wash. “Hey, if you’re still going after C.T, a word of advice: Do not get in Tex’s way.” He warned. “Seriously, do NOT do it.”

Wash rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for the tip.”

+

Wash was used to cleaning up after others—if they couldn't do it right, then he would—but it wasn't like Carolina of all people to be so sloppy.

+

The moment he had seen the split second shimmer that rushed past him straight into the line of fire with Carolina hot on its heels, he had known. He had known—There was only ever one outcome with Texas involved, and he wasn’t dumb enough to believe for even a second that his silent prayers for her to fail just once were ever going to be answered.

But…

But—

A string in the back of his mind he hadn’t realized was taut snapped.

The casual admittance, the lack of care, the complete disregard for Connie’s life in her words forced him to a halt as a familiar feeling violently rushed to the surface.

He'd stuck his neck out for Texas, Connie had stuck her neck out for Texas, and this was how she repaid their kindness?

For a moment, he genuinely entertained the thought of killing her.

+

Wash let muscle memory guide him as he stripped off the many protective layers of titanium nanocomposite plating. He kept on the Kevlar bodysuit, choosing to forgo a shirt and just throw on his Freelancer-issued fatigues. He slammed his locker closed with his right foot, resting it on the vertical surface so he could lace up his boot, he then did the same with his left.

Standing up, he took a moment to scour over his mental map of the ship. He decided that he’d go down to R & D, cut through Armor Processing to take a detour up to the observation deck, and loop his way back to the locker room via the maintenance halls. That way, he wouldn’t have to pass through Recovery and, consequently, get dragged into a mildly uncomfortable conversation with Florida.

+

He turned a corner and abruptly stopped as he found himself standing in front of the leaderboard that was just outside the locker room. As he was bathed in its blue light, he recalled the words Connie had said to him all those months ago following Texas’ arrival.

"Don't forget to check your place on that list, Wash."

He didn’t even have to scan the list to find his name. His eyes darted to 5th place, and there it was, just like always.

It almost felt as though the digital display was mocking him in a way, taunting him by bringing all of his silent doubts and quiet insecurities to the forefront of his mind.

Is this how Connie had felt when it first started getting to her head?

Is this how all of the others felt?

He frowned at the thought, moving to sit on the oh-so conveniently placed bench.

+

The sound of armored footsteps broke him out of his thoughts and he reflexively looked up expecting to see Carolina—but instead of Carolina, he found himself staring at a face he had never seen before.

Said mystery face stared right back at him.

A quick glance at the armor color told him it was Texas, but his mind was short circuiting as he struggled to process the fact that Agent Texas actually had a face that wasn't her helmet.

Had he really never seen it before?

+

She had silky wheat blonde hair slicked back into one of those tight, headache inducing buns, fair skin with a light dusting of freckles across her nose, sharp cheekbones, a nicely defined jawline, and the bluest blue eyes he's ever seen.

She was an attractive woman in a girl next door kind of way. If he had to describe it, she had one of those faces where if he were to pass her on the street he wouldn't be stunned speechless and completely awestruck by her beauty, but he would find his gaze lingering on her a little longer than necessary.

All in all, it was a perfectly normal face, despite her good looks though, Wash couldn’t help the vague sense of unease he felt as he stared at her. There was just something that triggered an unsettling sense of wrongness in the back of his brain, like her features were trying too hard to come across as natural, and in doing so it only made them look more artificial.

+

“So, uh, how's the wrist?” He asked, trying to break the ice and shift the silence between them from awkward into something more casual. This technique admittedly didn't always work with this group, but he tried.

“...Fine.” Texas replied, unconsciously raising her arm from her side so she could thumb at her wrist with her other hand. “This arm isn't real, so there's no permanent damage.”

He hated himself for feeling disappointed about that.

+

“Con—C.T, knew the risks that her actions would bring.” He said, turning away from Texas in an effort to hide some of the bitterness that seeped from his voice. “You were just doing your job and following orders.”

[agentcomstock]

Remember Me

This… this wasn't supposed to happen.

They weren't supposed to be caught in the crossfire.

Charlie was simply overwatch. How could AQ find them? How was their position compromised? Who knew about the mission?

"Charlie to Bravo this is 3-1, there are walkers about 50 meters to your south, stay frosty." K.A.T's radio chirped silent as he broadcast, listening to a few seconds of static.

"2-3 copy, keep an eye out to our west, been hearing some interference for about 20 minutes. Doesn't get any clearer as we approach the HZ, better safe than sorry." Atlas radioed back and K.A.T moved his scope to the west immediately.

3 AQ mutts, kicking rocks and laughing. K.A.T called an all clear, but to stay low.

141 was on a simple recon mission. Get in unseen, find documents leading to a local hotshot that quickly rose to power, and get out — Alive.

They weren't all so lucky.

"Ambush!" Captain Price yelled out suddenly. Gunfire and the sounds of rpg's rushing by just barely registered before she was already behind cover, firing over the rocks.

Bullets whizzed past the rocks, lodging themselves just feet away, exploding after impact.

"K.A.T! D-zzt- copy? We'-zzt- ambush! Soap's -zzt- -own. Gaz no-!" Atlas' comms crackled like hell, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Atlas! Go find K.A.T! Call an exfil!" Price found her cover and gave orders, shooting targets left and right.

She scrambled from her spot and dashed up the hill, taking a few bullets to the back and arms. It didn't hurt her. At this moment she felt no pain; at least not physically.

As she crested the hill, she spotted lifeless bodies. Her blood ran cold and fell to her knees, crawling with fading strength. K.A.T's body was the farthest away. It was absolute hell through the mud, gunfire, and a starless night. She reached him only after catching multiple bullets to her arm and torso. Atlas shoved a dead AQ off of him, taking off his helmet so she could observe the damage. The screen was broken; a single bullet was lodged in the padding, but he'd been knocked out before being shot. He wasn't in good shape and Atlas knew this.

She was scared.

"K.A.T! No!"

———————

"Atlas, ya gotta eat something." Soap set down a cup of coffee and a bagel in front of Atlas, coaxing her to do something but stare at a wall all day. He sighed and sat down next to her, fixing her disheveled hospital gown and bandages.

She had a total of 10 bullet wounds, 9 removed. The last one was caught in her knee, but not affecting range of motion or weight bearing ability.

In her head ran the moments leading up to the ambush. Who could have done this? Was it a trap to begin with? She was the one who Price trusted to lead this mission.

Over the last few weeks, she had shown incredible growth as a teammate and as a person. Nabbing K.A.T from where he was was the best decision Price thought he ever made besides bringing Soap and Ghost to 141.

"Yer still injured, doll. Ya gotta get some rest. Worrying about K.A.T isn't gonna help at all." He pushed, trying to get her to do something. Every morning since waking up, she would trudge over to K.A.T's room and sit across the hall, just staring at the door. "I'll call Simon." Soap's voice was low and threatening.

Atlas' eyes flickered, as if a robot was rebooting. She slowly turned her head to meet Soap's gaze, taking the bagel and eating a bite.

"I'll fucking kill you." Her words dripped with acid violence, causing Soap to shudder. Her eyes, once brilliant blue like the ocean, were wrought iron grey — emotionless, cold, devoid of anything but hatred towards herself. She could not forgive herself for leading K.A.T into that death sentence. Of course, she could never and would never hurt Soap. Atlas had enough blood on her hands as it was, but he was still bothered by her words.

The two sat for a while. Nurses came by every once in a while to give Atlas her medications; most of which were painkillers. Soap was simply astonished she could even stay awake though the rounds.

"Calliope, yes?" A nurse called out to her.

"Atlas. It's not a good idea to agitate." Atlas looked up to find Simon standing in front of her, hand extended for her to take.

"Hey kid, he's awake, but there's something you should know first—"

She was gone after the first four words, shoulder checking Simon by accident.

"K.A.T… fy ngoleuni…" Atlas stopped at the foot of his bed breathless. His prosthetics were off to the side, mangled and broken from various bullet entry holes. K.A.T's face was decorated with new scars from being knocked down with the stock of a shotgun and grazes from ammunition. His beautiful fiery red hair was wrapped up neatly by blood soaked bandages and Atlas wanted nothing more than to run her hands though and mess it up— blood and all.

His gaze slowly met hers, unsure of who the person was standing in front of him.

"Ah… Dia dhuit, I'm K.A.T"

Her heart sank to the deepest depths of her body, like it was replaced with tungsten steel. Atlas' knees lost strength and she collapsed, unable to stop the agonizing sobs that escaped her still sand-blasted lips. Simon and Soap rushed in, trying to calm her as she thrashed around. The two men's hearts broke listening to her excruciating howls, being careful not to hurt her further despite the struggle.

"Why?! Why couldn't it — Why couldn't it have been me?!" She screamed to a God that would not answer. He never answered.

The nurses called in medical security while Simon and Soap pinned her down. For being about their size, she was hell to deal with.

MS came in with a needle full of Lorazepam and stuck her with it. In a few moments her cries turned to small pleas of bargaining.

"Remember me… please K.A.T…" her sobs were quiet now, far and few between as the drugs ran through her blood, taking her down like an assassin in the night.

"Steamin bloody Jesus, Atlas…" Soap gently cradled her unconscious body, rocking her back and forth to give some sort of comfort as other nurses prepped another gurney.

"We'll get this figured out, we always do Johnny." Simon gave Soap a pat on the back as he helped him get Atlas on the bed. He hesitated for a moment before putting on the soft restraints, remembering his own disposition to being detained.

—————————————

"Captain Price, there's been a situation." Gaz walked into Price's office without knocking, immediately letting him know the severity of the circumstance.

He nodded, motioning for Gaz to proceed.

"Calliope is currently unfit for duty at this time, she was sedated after a breakdown. K.A.T is also unfit for duty at this time, a case of amnesia and his prosthetics are simply too damaged to be used appropriately." Gaz gave a brief rundown, watching Price pace back and forth.

"What happened to Atlas?" His voice seethed on her name, stressing the correction.

"Atlas went to visit K.A.T in his room without hearing Ghost out on his current health. It was too much for her and she basically lost her goddamn mind." He said bluntly. Price swore under his breath before walking over to a filing cabinet and rummaging through some old files, grabbing two seemingly new manila folders.

"We grab these two for now, but until I get an all clear for them both, I do not want either of them out on the field. These two will be their replacements." Price slapped down the two files.

Niko 'Mediman' Attano

"Haribo"

[regionalcoins]

   Mario had hardly been home a full day before he felt something was amiss. Since he returned from his brief ‘mooncation’, he’d caught ear of the hushed murmurs spreading across the kingdom. It wasn’t unlike the citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom to go around spreading talk, but something about this particular bout of gossip caused a vague pang of unease to begin churning deep within his gut that he just couldn’t place a reasoning for. ‘Rosalina’ this, ‘Geno’ that -- even Kirby had been mentioned a few times!

So, what exactly had happened since his departure from Earth? Had the Star Spirits dealt retribution for Geno’s rebellion? Was there a new Smash Tournament he’d missed out on? Or was it something... much bigger?

He had to find out. He had to find out, somehow, and Mario would not rest a wink until he knew what was happening.

[legendbrother-blog]

* . . .

you slowly begin to raise your arms, straight out on either side, in the shape of a ‘ T. ’

[whenthepawnstrikes]

Between His Finger and the Trigger. Chapter One: home.

You know that ghosts are only a figment of one’s imagination. A shadow on the wall, an unfamiliar dash of light in a mirror, a strange orb in a photo. However, when you lay in bed at night, and feel the mattress dip beside you, and feel that cold tender hand on your cheek, you cannot help but feel comforted by the unknown. _____________________________________________________________

You see the dead, he’s a metaphorical ghost. A husk of a man, who’s emotion only shines through his eyes, and who’s only romantic actions lie between his finger and the trigger of a gun. Tensions are high, and you have to lie low. Will you see through him, or does the mask cover all?

_________________________________________________________

This is my first fanfiction on Tumblr, so I'm still getting used to the formatting. Criticism is always welcome, I desperately need it. If you read, enjoy!

TW: This fanfiction will contain graphic descriptions of violence, blood, wounds, and other potentially triggering things. This particular chapter has death, and gore.

Reader is AFAB, but they/them pronouns are used. "Rookie" is the readers nickname.

______________________________________________________________

The cold has settled into your bones, and created icicles on your eyelashes. This is the kind of cold that comforts the sleeping, or the dead, and you may find yourself as the latter here soon. The wind has only exacerbated the chill in your body, and yet you can’t even shiver. The man in front of you is too observant, and he’s not in a good mood, and so he will definitely call you out on any signs of weakness. You tighten your jaw to stop the chattering in your teeth, and hold your gun close to your chest. You have long since ran out of ammo, but it’s something to ground you. You squint your eyes in an attempt to see through the heaves of snowfall, the man in front of you stops.

“Keep up, we’re almost there.” Ghost turns his head to look at you through his peripherals,

“Don’t slow down now.”

You can only bring yourself to nod.

You both continue walking in the snow, the larger man in front of you is surprisingly silent as he glides through the snow that’s deep enough to reach your knees. You, on the other hand, enjoy the soft crunch underneath your boots. Ghost holds his fist up next to his head, you stop. He raises his weapon, looks through the scope, and takes a silent shot. A man falls out of a tree. Ghost continues walking, calmly stepping over the body. You walk behind, trying not to look too closely at the blood staining the crisp snow. Maybe the cold would keep him intact enough for his family to hold an open-casket funeral, if he had one. That’s the only semblance of care you hold for him, your job doesn’t really allow for such trivial feelings like remorse or guilt. Or even, God forbid, sadness for a fallen enemy.

Your gun did a lot of talking. And you didn't want to stop and think about what that entailed.

-

Your cheeks feel stiff with cold, and you’re sure if you take your gloves off too rough your fingers would fall off. The snow on your boots and jeans started to melt onto the cabin's floor, slowly thawing you out. Ghost squatted next to a small potbelly stove, poking and prodding at the embers inside, attempting to make a fire out of waterlogged wood. Neither of you exchanged words, but the aggressive nature of Ghost’s jabs at the coals said enough. The mission went to shit, like it always seems to do. Then, he’s going to blame you for the failure. And then you’re going to argue, and then Price saves both your asses, and then the next mission comes. And the cycle continues. Except, Price hasn’t talked to either of you on your comms yet, not even static. They’re waterproof, so they’re not broken, so only time will tell when you get a good enough signal. With snow like this, it could be a few days.

Task Force 141 was separated during their latest mission in northern Europe, it was an attempt to break apart a continent-wide drug smuggling ring that ran from western Russia to France, and you all failed. They got the jump on you guys, and now you’re stuck fighting Russians in the winter. Isn’t there a lesson against that?

You stare at your hands in your lap, and wonder about frostbite. You think back to the time in Freshman year Biology, when your teacher showed pictures of frostbitten hands and toes, the skin peeling off, and the muscles turned necrotic. You suddenly feel pins and needles in your feet, and wonder if you can even walk.

You look up at Ghost, he’s staring intently into a small fire now. The logs must not have been too wet.

“Thank you.” You say in a small attempt to break the tension, but attempting to douse Ghosts’ anger was like throwing a water balloon into a pit of lava.

Ghost throws the fireplace poke next to the stove, and looks up at you. He stares for just a moment (he seems to have a problem with that), and stands up as if to intimidate you. This is usually where the arguing begins. But, in a moment of weakness, the man in front of you says,

“You’re welcome. And while you’re warming up, don’t get the fucking floor wet.” The words sound like venom.

“Yes sir.” you mock a salute to him, as he walks to the window leading outside.

Ghost holds his weapon to his chest, and stares out the window.

“You know, we would have been warm at home by now if you hadn't-"

There he fucking goes. The cycle continues.

“If I hadn’t what? Done my job? I took the shot, like the captain told me to, Lieutenant.” You spat.

“And you missed!” Ghost turns from the window and looks in your direction, “What good is doing your job if you’re absolute shite at it!”

“Oh boo hoo, are you just mad that he gave me the job of sniper instead of you? You scared that the captain will replace you?” You stand now, on unsteady feet, the pins and needles intensify.

“Replace? Yeah, like the captain would even think about replacing me with the likes of you. He was testing you, private, to see if you were any good, and you failed. Be grateful if you even have a place on this team when we get back to base. If we even get back.” Ghost spat.

Ouch. you weren’t hurt by the idea that you weren’t good enough (you have already run those thoughts over a thousand times), it was more so the look of disappointment in Captain Price’s eyes when he saw you next. And the idea that you wouldn’t make it home to see that look of disappointment.

You knew you were in the wrong, you did miss that shot, but goddammit you were not going to admit it to this smug motherfucker.

Ghost took your silence as a win for him. He sat down on a stool next to the window, placed his gun in his lap, and continued looking outside.

You sat back down on the floor, and took off your gloves, shoes, and wet socks. Your hands were swollen, and your feet must have fallen asleep. With the items in your hands, you unsteadily crawled towards the stove.

You set the socks flat on the floor in front of you, and your boots next to them, and the gloves last. All in a neat pile.

You were so close to the fire you could feel the heat singing your eyelashes. The heat felt nice.

“If you sit any closer I’ll have to carry you home in a jar.”

You looked back at Ghost, standing next to the window.

His vacant eyes scoping the world outside, and his trigger finger ready to pull.

You scooted away from the fire.

[neakco]

The Lost Temple ch. 2

Ao3 Ch.1 Ch.3 Masterlist

Marinette doesn't fully trust the American Heroes but knows that she probably needs their help.

Tim doesn’t trust these two teens that are definitely hiding something.

Yet they made camp together anyway.

Ch.2 Sleepless Night

It had taken longer then they would have like to figure out a watch schedule. While they had both agreed to an alliance, neither group trusted the other.

 

Finally a compromise was made. Each group set their own schedule. Marinette and Adrien agreed to each do half the night. While the Trio took one 2 hour shift each.

 

Adrien would take the first 3 hours and would be starting his shift with Superboy. Impulse had the 2nd watch which he would share with both of them before she would finish out the night with Red Robin.

 

Marinette was a little nervous, she knew Superboy had heard Plagg earlier. They weren’t used to others being able to hear as well as her Kitty. She was lucky that her bond with Tikki allowed communication via emotions.

 

She stared up at the stars, at least this wouldn’t be the first time she had gone without sleep for a mission. She glanced briefly at the tent the American heroes had set up. It looked cramped. She was quite happy with her blanket.

 

Her and Adrien had tried using tents before but he preferred to sleep up high and she enjoyed the connection to the plants she got on the ground. It always allowed her to feel more rested, even if, like tonight, she didn’t actually sleep.

 

Adrien came to let her know it was her turn so she rolled up her blanket and went to join Impulse.

 

The boy never seemed to stop, he constantly dashed back and forth as he talked non-stop about everything.

 

“Doesn’t that drain your energy?”

 

He stopped short as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, well yes, but II can quickly get back to civilization for snacks.”

 

She nodded as the hero began to move around and started talking about his favourite snacks. She had an idea to run past Red Robin once he joined her on watch. She would suggest it to Impulse but she had a gut feeling that would be a bad idea.

 

 

Tim woke a little early for his turn and crept towards the trees in order to observe Marinette and Bart.

He was a little surprised that she seemed interested in the one-sided food conversation. At least he had assumed it was one-sided until she chirped in with a question about Bart’s preferences on French pastries. He didn’t expect the girl to become so offended when Bart told her he didn’t like croissants.

 

Tim decided that it was close enough to his watch and stepped out of the shadows.

 

Impulse flew into the trees in his surprise while Marinette hadn’t moved. Had he lost his touch? No, she may not have jumped but he noticed she had a hand to her back where it hadn’t been before. He concluded that she had probably reached for a weapon.

 

“Seriously Rob? I love you but that’s just mean.”

 

Tim smirked, “Maybe next time you will pay attention.”

 

“You’re a bat, doesn’t matter how much I pay attention.” Bart grumbled as he waved goodnight to Marinette and headed off to find his sleeping bag.

 

Tim turned back to Marinette and was shocked by the level of malice being directed at him. “What did I…”

 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice, while harsh, was soft and filled with concern. “I could have killed you. If it was Adrien you had startled you wouldn’t be alive.”

 

Tim swallowed his retort. Normally he would think it hilarious that this tiny enigma thought that she or her delicate looking friend could hurt him, but there was something there. It was the way every sound stilled at her anger, the way his gut yelled at him to run. Putting all this together with their first conversation, he began to wonder if the two teens had been granted power by the gods.

 

Marinette was taking deep meditative breaths. “You are lucky I analyze before reacting.”

 

“Sorry. I had figured you had a sixth sense.”

 

She eyed him, “You were testing a theory?”

 

“Yes. I like to know what my allies are capable of and it’s not like you two have been very forthcoming.”

 

It surprised Tim to see her relax at this rather than get angrier.

 

“The decision to share isn’t really up to me or Adrien. I assume it is similar to your identity, unless what I've heard about Batman is wrong.”

 

Tim laughed quietly while keeping an eye to their surroundings. “We actually tell people our identities all the time, people just assume we are joking.”

 

Her eyes widened, “That works?”

 

“Well it works if the public's image of your two personas are vastly different. People will believe what they want no matter what you tell them.”

 

He was about to ask if she was thinking of becoming a hero when he noticed her darkening look. Unlike before where it had been anger mixed with concern, this time it was mixed with sadness and pain.

 

“You okay?”

 

“People really do believe what they want.” Her eyes turned wistful and she looked up into the trees. “Really shows you who your real friends are.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” How was he supposed to comfort her? Alfred would probably offer her hot chocolate and sweets.

 

“No, it all happened years ago. I am mostly over it.”

 

Tim let out a sigh of relief, at her look he tried to smile kindly. “No offense but I was raised by the most emotionally distant people and I really had no idea what to do if you started crying.”

 

The sudden laughter surprised him. That wasn’t a normal reaction. He frowned as he watched her try to stifle the sound.

 

“I'm sorry, it’s just, well, welcome to the club.” She started laughing a little bit harder and maybe a bit more broken. “Adrien can tell you some stories. Well I can two, but mine only start a few years back. I don’t have a life's worth like he does.”

 

“But why is that so funny?” He frowned harder trying to understand if he was the joke.

 

He jumped and threw a batarang that thankfully missed when Adrien suddenly dropped out of a tree and landed beside him.

 

“Where we come from it was always better to laugh instead of giving in to emotional distress.” He turned to Marinette, “You okay M'lady?”

 

“I just,” her giggles increased slightly, “strays, it’s always the strays.” She giggled a bit longer before stopping suddenly and glaring at Adrien, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

 

Tim could see the blonde visibly gulp as he lied poorly, “bathroom. Going back to sleep now. Bye.” He quickly left back into the trees and took off roughly in the direction of camp based off the rustling.

 

“You two are very strange.”

 

“Says the talented human commanding literal super humans.” She snorted. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think Impulse could quickly map out the jungle for us?”

 

“If he can keep himself from tripping over roots and snakes then maybe. Why didn’t you ask him?” Tim was curious. She had spent an hour with Impulse, there had been plenty of time.

 

“I figured you were the leader and I would have to ask no matter what. Mostly I was worried he wouldn’t be able to but pride would cause him to say yes anyways.”

 

Tim tried to study her expression but it gave nothing away. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“Simple, Impulse acts like a younger Adrien.”

 

 

Marinette thought back, Chat had been so free. She missed those times. Unfortunately reality had hit them both fairly hard. She doubted if they could ever be that carefree again.

 

“I would deny your assessment if I could.” Red Robin leaned back against her tree and typed into his arm. She hadn’t realized there was technology integrated into the suit. She was almost jealous.

 

A holographic map of the jungle was displayed floating above his arm so she leaned forward to gain a better look.

 

Red Robin pointed to a small area causing a dot to appear  “This is our camp.” He gestured to highlight a portion green. “This is the area we checked yesterday. My initial reports showed activity in these areas.” This time the highlighted red, or brown in the areas that overlapped with the searched area.

 

She hummed in thought, “Add another kilometer to the searched radius. Adrien split off a couple times yesterday.”

 

She could see his eyes shift to suspicion briefly but he complied anyway

 

“If you knew that then you never needed Impulse to make a map, you wanted him to find the enemy.”

 

She nodded but stayed silent and observant. It was kind of nice watching someone else think like she does.

 

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if Impulse was capable of stealth. “She watched him remove the searched area from the map in order to zoom in on the rest.

 

“You have a plan.” She was grinning, she could already tell what he was thinking.

 

The way he looked at her screamed that he knew that she had already figured it out. She was happily surprised when he decided to continue explaining to her.

 

“I propose that we split up. My team has trackers to keep track of our own whereabouts and comms to communicate. I think Superboy and Adrien take this route.” A Blue and red line appeared on the map. “While we take this path more to the right.” This time the line was red and black. She knew they were supposed to represent his colours but they worked just as well for her. She bet Adrien would have a laugh.

 

“I'll have Impulse cover this middle area in between our groups to cover any gaps and act as a runner in case we need anything. Anything to add?”

 

She bit her lip. These were heroes, she could probably trust them, at least a little. Plus Adrien wasn’t able to sense the temple’s magic. “How good is Superboy's x-ray vision?” Damn it, she thought she had fixed her word blurting problem.

 

Red Robin seemed surprised by her words, “What? Why?”

 

She chewed on her lip a bit more before she felt Tikki's reassurance. “What I am about to tell you is secret enough that it could very well get you killed. Are you sure you want to know?”

 

She watched his face carefully. There was hesitation, doubt, curiosity, and finally that thirst for knowledge that got her into trouble constantly.

 

He finally shrugged, “Just an average day for me.”

 

She smiled but dropped her voice into a serious tone. “There is a temple here that was lost underground years ago. No matter what else happens I can not let anyone get the knowledge and treasures it holds.” She remembered some of the things the monks had told her and Adrien without ever actually explaining what the temple was guarding. “If these people find the temple first then best case scenario has them taking over the world.”

 

Red Robin's voice was low, “And worst case?”

 

“They destroy the entire universe as we know it.”

Taglist @toodaloo-kangaroo

[karma-vvitch]

Come back to me

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: fluff(at first), goes to town on angst trust me

summary: Bucky made a promise to you, but you didn’t make a promise to Bucky

a/n: it looks cute and fluffy at first, but don’t let that fluff fool you.....I was really in the mood and I saw this prompt on pinterest sooooooo there, boom a story

_

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers is requesting everyone to be in the conference room right now.” F.R.I.D.A.Y announced startling the super-soldier who was trying to cover his ears. “give me 5 more minutes” He grumbled turning over. “Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers is requesting this urgently” at this Bucky sighed knowing he would earn an earful, “you know Steve’s gonna kill me if I don’t get your ass out of that door right now,” the figure next to him smiled.

 “Wouldn’t he already do that because you’re still here, lying next to me and not getting out of the covers?” Bucky replied turning over to face the figure. “You’re not wrong, soldier” you giggled, scooting closer to him, “well knowing that Stevie is going to give us both a speech on tardiness, why don’t we just-” Bucky then started crawling on top of you while you were laughing trying to get him off you. 

“Bucky stop it we have to go, it might be serious” you tried reasoning with him, “c’mon doll, just a few more minutes” he was now fully focusing on you, observing how you looked at that moment. Noting on how messy your hair was, eyes puffy and tired, and lips plumped with some dried saliva at the corners. He chuckled to himself, even at this state you were the most gorgeous thing he saw. Bucky reached his hand out to tuck a stray strand hanging near your eyes, while you just stared at Bucky with a knowing look.

 You were about to say something until a knock interrupted you. “If both of you don’t get out right now, I will break down this door and carry you both out, decent or not.” Steve said clearly annoyed. You and Bucky were trying your hardest not to laugh, while getting out of the bed. “I think that’s our cue” you said, tying your hair up trying to look more decent. Bucky just smirked at you putting on his shirt “yeah we should go before he actually breaks down the door” You laughed again heading for the door.

_

It was an extraction mission. There were some files in an abandoned Hydra base that held some important information, S.H.I.E.L.D thinks they might contain important information on other bases and weaponry. Since this was a small mission only a few people were going to be handling this and one of them was Bucky. 

You were nervous for sure you knew he had a better grasp of himself than he had before, the Wakandans made sure of that but you still had this feeling that you might lose him....again. The meeting had ended awhile ago but you still lingered. You were no hero nor enhanced being but you always had this gut feeling something is wrong or somethings gonna go wrong, that was what you were feeling right now, “hey” it was Bucky “hey” 

“You alright?” no you weren’t “yeah” bucky held your hand making you face him “Y/n I know that face, you aren’t okay” you let out shaky breath “I’m just scared Buck, I’m scared that I might lose you again” Bucky tensed at this, he knew he was okay now after his time at Wakanda but the fear of Hydra capturing him again was still there no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, “I know doll, I get scared too but you and I both know that won’t happen, I have Steve with me and I have full control over my brain.” 

you glanced at Bucky “I know I just always get that feeling that they’re gonna take you away from me” tears were forming in your eyes, “oh doll” Bucky pulled you closer to him as you let the tears fall from your eyes “Bucky promise me you will come back to me”   “Doll you know I wou-”   “Bucky please, just promise me you will come back to me” Bucky looked at you tears prickling at his eyes as he looked down at your form, his heart breaking at the sight. He knew he could be taken at any time, he knew Hydra was out there planning to take back their “asset” but for now he knew better than to let that out to you, he knew it will come one day but for now all he could do was hold you closer and promise. Promise that he would come back to you.

_

The group had arrived at the Hydra base within 2 hours, they were now headed to the lab trying to find the files. “So what happened between you and y/n, awhile ago?” Steve had asked trying to break the silence, Bucky glanced at Steve then sighed “You should have seen her Stevie, she looked so defeated. She was scared that she would lose me and made me promise to her that I would come back. Of course I promised her that but you and I both know Hydra still wants their winter soldier back and that they would stop at nothing to achieve that...” “Buck, I wouldn’t let that happen, y/n knows that too doesn’t she?”     “She does but she also knows that one day it might happen and you won’t be able to stop it.” 

Once Bucky finished they were already in front of the lab. The files were right where the info said it would be, they placed it inside of a secured case and left the lab. As they were walking out of the lab, a bunch of Hydra agents came out of nowhere and started shooting at the group. Steve and Bucky were able to take out most of the guys, then sprinted to the jet. Once the whole group was in the jet they left the base, heading back to headquarters. 

The flight back was silent, everyone was tired and still shocked by the surprise attack. Half way through the flight Steve’s comm went off. “Steve you there?” It was Natasha “Yeah, what the hell Nat, the information said it was abandoned yet there were agents waiting for us outside the lab, ready to fire”  “Steve”  “The group could’ve gotten hurt”  “Steve”  “Why was the information wrong”  “STEVE”  “What”  “How far from HQ are you guys?”  “not that far, why?”  “You need to go faster”  “Nat, what do you mean”  “Steve HQ has been compromised”   “what do you mean?”  “Steve” this time it was Bucky but he wasn’t looking at Steve, he was looking outside the jet. 

When Steve looked out he couldn’t breathe. It was HQ but half of it was burning, with some structure already falling off. Steve quickly landed the jet, briskly unbuckling his the straps and opening the jet. Bucky beat him to it though, running out the jet into the clearing where agents and employees gathered, trying to help the wounded or trying to figure out what was happening but Bucky didn’t care about that, all he cared about right now  was you and if you were safe. 

As he was trying to look for you in the crowd he overheard Natasha and Steve talking “Nat what happened?” “We don’t know, one minute we were doing our jobs the next, a bomb exploded at the east wing” Steve saw Bucky frantically searching through the crowd and he knew exactly who he was looking for. “Nat do you know where y/n is?” Natasha was thinking but her face immediately went pale “After you guys left, she went to storage to get some of her weapons” Steve paled realizing what Nat meant “I haven’t seen her since��� 

Steve didn’t waste another second and ran to Bucky. He explained everything to him and they dashed to the rubble. Thankfully the second floor hasn’t collapsed yet, but they had to be quick. Both men started shouting your name hoping for a response but nothing came. Bucky couldn’t lose you, he would never forgive himself knowing that they took you. As he dug through the rubble just to find you he just hoped, hoped to God or whatever being was up there that you weren’t under all these rocks and that you were already in the clearing.

 He stopped holding back tears trying not to think about it, as he was going back to digging Steve called his name. Bucky stopped again facing Steve, he then felt all his fears coming back to him. He felt his heart breaking as he walked to Steve but when he finally saw him his heart fully shattered. In his arms your body, limp and not moving. 

Bucky couldn’t stop shaking as he was handed your body, he fell to his knees as he cradled you. He tilted your head up, getting a better look of you and the evidence that you were in a fight before this, He wiped the streak of blood from your mouth as he started sobbing, “y/n”  “y/n, c’mon wake up doll.”  “hey you gotta wake up for me right now”  “doll”  “DOLL” Bucky wailed as he held you closer. “who did this to you”  “who did this to you!” He kept trying to find a pulse but there was really nothing. “Didn’t I promise you that I would come back, look baby I did. I came back for you” Bucky sobbed “doll you gotta come back to me” Bucky pleaded

“Come back to me” 

[myriad-mage]

“Amity Giselle Blight.” Alex had to say the name a couple of times to himself, mainly trying to focus his attention on Amity’s middle name to try and think of how to interpret the information. 

“Sounds pretty yet fierce.” He didn’t know what the names meant, so he only accounted for the pronunciations to give his interpretation. 

[reynesofcastamere]

Fractured Comet (1/2)

(A/N: Sequel to my previous fic. Because apparently my writing muse woke up and is back with a vengeance. For now. Warnings for intrusive thoughts, mentions of abuse, violence, torture,death, etc. Sheev Palpatine is a f*cking terrible person and Maul’s mind is not a fun place to be even when he’s not having a breakdown. Unbeta’d.)

There is wisdom in knowing when to retreat. This, however, comes closer to cowardice. Maul scowls down at the datapad clenched in his right hand. The intel currently displayed on it is important, and all it would take to set up the exchange would be a simple holocall. A brief conversation, the satisfaction of business well done and the visceral pleasure of throwing another wrench into the gears of the Empire. Five months ago, he would have done it without hesitation. Relished the opportunity. even. But now....

Maul’s exhale borders on a snarl, the Force thrashing like a wounded, dying thing in response to his mood. He cannot avoid he-this forever. Eventually there will be a stubborn, passionate former Padawan hunting him down to demand answers and ready to fight if he refuses to provide them. Anticipation coils deep in what remains of his abdomen, remembering her bruised and burnt, but not beaten, her bared teeth tinged red with his blood. Ahsoka Tano is magnificent when pushed to her limits, all pretenses of civility stripped away to expose the raw survival instinct within. Is it any wonder then, that he cannot help but provoke her whenever they occupy the same space? He has to set the datapad down, or else risk crushing it into scrap. Because how dare she? He has endured agonies that would have destroyed lesser beings, and she had thought to break him with nothing more than a few gentle touches and hushed words! Kill her. The Dark Side urges. Corrupt her, make her fall. She is wasted in the Light. Protect her, Brother. Savage’s ghost advises. You have the strength to- Keep her, watch her, bind her to us. His own voice cuts in, but different, tinged with madness and desperation. Give her to me, and regain your rightful place, your true destiny. Master Sidious hisses, poison concealed in glorious lies. The room around him shakes, a multitude of hair-thin cracks spreading rapidly along the floor.  “Never.” Maul snarls. “Never again.” He will not settle for subservience, especially not the kind that comes with the constant threat of a blade to his throat. No, when he seizes the power that belongs to him, it will be over the Emperor’s smoking corpse. It must amuse Sidious greatly, to watch his broken tool scrabble in the garbage for baubles while he enjoys every decadence that could possibly be dreamed of. And therein lies the crux of his turmoil. If Ahsoka Tano becomes someone that Maul fears losing, his former Master will destroy her. Or worse, he will force Maul’s hand to strike the killing blow. Kilindi’s face swims briefly before his eyes. He’d sacrificed much to appease Sidious at Orsis Academy, secure in the belief that the ability to kill anyone, regardless of personal ties, made him strong. Time has proven him pitiably weak in so many regards. And all of these meandering thoughts are a waste of time. He will give the intel to one of his agents to pass onto her, as before. Whenever the inevitable confrontation takes place, he will deal with it. Until then- Somehow, he should not be surprised to find her slipping silently into his office moments after he just stood up. “Your stealth has greatly improved.” Maul observes, eyes narrowing. “Or my security detail is in dire need of replacements.” The menace in his tone is quiet, but no less palpable. “Saxon let me in. Don’t kill them.” Ahsoka informs him, bluntly honest as his jaw tics in aggravation. There are days where he severely regrets giving Death Watch the order to trigger their hidden explosives and escape Sundari. Their skills are useful, to be certain, as are those of the other Mandalorian malcontents joined to his cause; especially once the Nightbrothers were assimilated into their ranks. But Saxon has a rather annoying habit of making...presumptions about his personal life. No doubt Kast is somehow involved in this minor insubordination as well-His uninvited guest clears her throat pointedly. Right. Corrective discipline later. He has a much more pressing issue to attend to. “Haven’t heard from you on comms for a while.” “My end of the bargain is still being upheld. Has it not occurred to you that I have several planet-spanning organizations to run? Some level of delegation is required.” “Krayt spit.” “Would you care to elaborate, Lady Tano? Or simply waste your breath with backwater insults?” Every word is heavy with scorn as he crosses his arms. Maul’s unspoken message is clear enough. You are not worth my time. Leave. Any vague hope he might have harboured of her scoffing at his attitude and vacating his current headquarters is swiftly dashed when Ahsoka storms across the room and traps him between her body and the edge of his desk. It is only now he notices that she is still faintly coated with dust, a few fresh blaster burns dotting her biceps and slight bags under her eyes. She’s met with him after missions before, but never quite in such a...disheveled state. Maul doesn’t exactly know how to process this.

“You spend years taking every ‘safe’ opportunity to talk my montrails off, try to beat me into the ground, or ravish me against the nearest flat surface.” Determination hardens her gaze as she tears his excuse to bloody shreds. “And I’m supposed to believe this...bantha fodder that you’ve finally shut up because you’re ‘busy’. Tug the other lekku, and maybe pull your spiky, pretentious head out of your a-” “Is this a lover’s quarrel? How charmingly domestic. I didn’t think you cared.” He sneers, taking her face between his hands and capturing her mouth with a low rumble. She bites his lower lip in retaliation, but this is how it should be. Not soft, tender prayers written in whispers and trailing fingertips; Only bloody worship carved in pain and passioned screams. (A/N: Welp, this turned out longer than I expected. For reference, both Kilindi and Orsis Academy are from Legends canon. The TL:DR is that Maul gets sent there for assassin training, makes a friend or two, and then Sheev orders him to murder everyone. Some fans have headcanoned that Maul’s single ear piercing was a gift from Kilindi and Daleen, which I like even if it is terribly sad. Also, yeah, we’re now firmly in AU territory in regards to the respective fate of certain Mandalorians as well as the Nightbrothers. Many thanks to captainmazzic and leftofrevolution for the excellent works that inspired this. And because, y’know, it would have been nice if the Nightbrothers hadn’t gone straight from centuries of brainwashing and slavery to the extinction of their entire subspecies within 30 years or less. Anyway, still deciding whether to put smut in the second half for this certified Hot MessTM couple. Cheers!)

[padawanprotege]

You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet

The beginning of a new adventure for two of my precious Clone Ocs : Blaiz and Blair. As my part in @clonewarsreturns Across The Stars timeline.

The dark grey walls around them slowly started to move as the platform the troopers stood upon began to ascend to the training simulator. Each clone mentally counting down how much time was left until their training exercise would begin. Suddenly the elevator stopped dead in its tracks causing the troopers inside to silently share glances of confusion.

 On cue, the panel above them opened, showering the small squad in light. However, the platform they were standing on remained stationary. They could hear the clattering of droids moving in on their position, realising they were quickly running out of time.

Acting swiftly CT-6850 grabbed a smoke grenade from his belt and tossed it out of the opening above them waiting to hear it connect with the ground with a clink and detonate. As soon as the grenade detonated and the opening was thoroughly clouded with smoke CT-6851 braced his knees and interlocked his hands as a boost for his brothers to escape the confines of the elevator. One by one the clones climbed out of the hole and began providing cover fire as their brothers made their way out. CT-6850 turned on his heels the moment he pulled himself out and dropped his arm down, gripping on tight to CT-6851’s arm before pulling him up and out of the elevator. By the time all the clones had made it onto the training grounds, the smoke had dissipated, forcing the troopers to quickly fan out and take cover behind the multiple barriers scattered around the training area.

 From high above the training area, Alpha-17 observed as his newest troops moved swiftly towards their objective, watching as each clone presented their favoured style of fighting and manoeuvring around the countless foes they were faced with. His watching gaze lingered on the two troopers remaining close to each other’s side as they proceeded towards their goal. El-Les caught on to the ARC troopers gaze, “CT-6850 and 6851 work seamlessly together, wouldn’t you say?” the Arcona asked, his tone hopeful that the Arc trooper agreed with his opinion.

 “And they’ll die seamlessly together.” Bric retorted, receiving a side-ways glare from El-las as he spoke. The ARC trooper was quiet for a moment as he continued watching the young clones effectively eliminate each threat that approached them.

 “Bric’s right,” Alpha responded as he moved his gaze off the team of two and onto the other troopers in the simulation that were each working independently to reach their objective, as they had been instructed to do so before the simulation began and their comms were disconnected. “Those two rely on each other too much. If they were separated on the battlefield, they would both crumble without the support of the other.”

 “On your left.” CT-6851, who called himself Blair yelled out to his brother as he focused his fire towards the droids ahead of them, trusting his brother to take out the stray droid that had begun moving around their barricade. As soon as the warning was heard CT-6850 turned quickly, concentrating his blaster shots on the B1 beside them.

 “Thanks” Blaiz replied with a quick nod of appreciation, the two clones vaulted over the barrier, blasting the few droids left between them and the tower ahead. Ducking behind the last barrier between the tower and themselves, they took a single moment to steady themselves before leaping straight back into action. Blaiz rose first, drawing the fire from the turrets directly onto him while he moved back towards another barrier. Using the distraction, Blair rushed towards the droids controlling the guns, eliminating each one before they had a chance to rotate their guns to fire in his direction.

 Sparing a glance back, Blair watched as his brother sprinted across the short distance between them. Prepping his ascension cord, Blair fired towards the top of the tower and pulled the cord until it was taut. Turning away from the tower, Blaiz focused on the battle droids filing out of the tower. Crouching low behind the closest barrier, Blaiz focused on providing his brother cover fire while Blair made his ascent up the side of the tower.

 Upon reaching the summit of the tower, Blair rushed to the edge of the structure, shouting “Hey! Clankers!” while firing a barrage of blaster bolts down on the unsuspecting battle droids below. Moving quickly, Blaiz hauled himself up the ascension cord towards the top of the tower, joining his brother on the edge for a moment to drop a grenade into the centre of the droid forces.

 Simultaneously they turned towards the final platform, running at full speed towards the raised area, they both launched themselves up, barely grabbing hold of the edge of the platform with the tips of their fingers. Blair pulled himself up first, swinging his leg up onto the platform to secure his balance. Noticing his brother's failing grip, Blair reached out and grabbed onto both of Blaiz’s forearms in his hands and hauled him up onto the top level of the tower with him. Together they raised to their feet and made the final dash towards the beacon, both wrapping a hand around it and pulling it up from its place, the light atop the beacon quickly shifting from red to green.

 ----------

 “Congratulations CT-6850 and CT-6851” El-las began as he approached the clone troopers gathered in their barracks. “You completed the course in record time.” The Arcona stated, he made no attempt to hide the pride he felt in his voice.

 “Indeed, you did complete the course faster than any others before,” Alpha-17 announced as he approached the line of troopers. “But you missed the entire point of the exercise. This training program was designed to test each of you individually. If you complete your training the chances that you two will be assigned together are slim to none. If you want to become Majors, you’d best start acting like it soon or you’ll both fail.” The ARC trooper finished staring down at the two clone troopers, before turning to return to the training grounds to oversee more trooper's work through their specialised training program.

 The two clones watched as their mentors made their way out of the barracks, silently contemplating everything they had said. “They ain’t seen nothing yet,” Blair said as he turned to look at his brother with a wide smile plastered on his face.

 Blocking out the eye rolls and groans that emanated from their batch-mates that began making their way further into the barracks to remove their armour, the two brothers just smiled and laughed with each other, recounting their best moments in the simulation.

 ----------

 In a matter of months, CT-6850 and CT-6851 graduated with the rest of their batch-mates, passing all their assignments in ARC trooper fashion. They had quickly donned their clean white armour and proceeded to the hanger, reminiscing over their favourite memories from training. Neither one wanting to admit that this might be the last time they see each other before they are assigned to their units.

 The sight of a Clone Commander equipped with yellow armour approaching them quickly drew their gaze, both standing to attention as the Commander closed the gap between them. “CT-6851, You’ve been assigned to the 172nd Battalion. I suggest making all final preparations now, we depart in 20 minutes.” The commander addressed Blair alone before moving past the two troopers further into the complex to oversee the departure of the fresh troops.

 Blair and Blaiz stood in complete silence for a moment. They knew that the time was coming when they would have to part ways, but neither one was prepared to say goodbye. “Chin up vod, we’ll see each other again.” Blair tried to affirm his brother but to no avail. Blaiz stared down at his feet in quiet contemplation of what his life would be like without his brother always at his side.

 “Major.” An unfamiliar voice called out in their direction, Blair took a moment to realise that the unknown feminine voice was directed at him, he was a Major now after all. Blair expected to see the Togruta Jedi that resided on Kamino to be the source of the voice, as it was the only female any of his brothers had come into contact with.

 To his surprise an unfamiliar woman was staring him down, waiting for him to respond to her. Quickly remembering his place, he stood at attention, saluting the woman. He allowed his eyes to wander over the new life form. She looked much more like them than the Jedi Shaak Ti did. She had a peachy complexion to her skin and long black hair, tied back away from her face. Her face was tattooed with diamonds of white and yellow, and she wore the brown robe characteristic of her Order.

 “CT-6851 reporting for duty sir,” Blair responded as he met the Jedi’s eye line. He watched as her eyes also lingered on him and then move onto Blaiz who also stood at attention beside but hadn’t mutter a word since the Jedi addressed them.

 Closing the space between them the Jedi looked a little closer at their faces, her expression emotionless and unrevealing before slowly melting into a kind smile. “My name is Ayelet Ebele, Major. I believe that around here you’re called Blair.” The Jedi said, her voice gentle and soothing to the ear. “Which would make you Blaiz.” The Jedi continued as her gaze shifted from one clone trooper to the other, the kind smile still lingering on her lips.

 “I’ve heard from your instructors are quite the duo. Completing simulations in record times and with higher scores than any of your batch-mates.” The general stated as she watched the two clones share a quick side glance to one another before replying in unison a simple, “Yes, sir.”

 “I’ve also heard that when you work separately, your scores are still passable however are noticeable lower than when you have each other’s support.” Ayelet continued as she felt the two clones grow slightly uncomfortable from her latest statement.

 Turning her attention away from the Major’s in front of her, Ayelet directed her gaze at the sea of white armour marching in perfect formation up the large loading ramp of her cruiser, her Commander standing at the base of the ramp, monitoring the clone troops as they ascended the ramp. “I guess it’s a good thing I need two Major’s for a clone force that size,” Ayelet said, as she turned her gaze back to the two Clones, watching with silent amusement as their faces shifted from sadness to surprise to pure excitement. “I’ll see you onboard.” The Jedi finished as she slightly bowed her head to the clones before making her way over to the loading ramp to stand beside her Commander.

 “They ain’t seen nothing yet,” Blair smirked as he smiled at his brother, unbridled eagerness shimmering in his eyes. His words finally raising a reaction from Blaiz who laughed at his brother’s response. The two allowed themselves a moment to calm down and let the news truly settle in before pulling on their helmets and marching in unison to join their brothers aboard the cruiser.

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 09 - Smoke

A squad of four humans is determined to raid and slay the sinister dragon Wysteria. With modern equipment, how could they fail?

1796 words, cw: death, guns

Four people stood at the entrance to the dragon's lair. Artemis in blue, Aura in yellow, Tobias in red, and Cecil in white. It wasn't the middle ages anymore, of course, and they faced a foe who knew that, as well. The structure was ornate on the outside, depicting Wysteria as a proud dragon and her array of kobolds in a series of relief carvings. Inside, however, was the workings of a dragoness who could use her breath weapon to great effect. A ventilation system that could awe engineers twenty years in the future, a confusing grid of similar rooms, and a fast and efficient variant on a typical intercom system. Its only weakness was a near-complete lack of doors, instead relying on offset walls to hide the scaly mistress of the fortress. The quartet of aspiring dragonslayers steeled themselves before their assualt.

Artemis flicked on his comms. "Alright, we're going in. Gear check, everyone. Goggles?" A chorus of yeses. "Piercing rounds?" Aura and Cecil replied in the affirmative. "Explosive? Got mine." Tobias gave him a thumbs-up. "And most important. Masks?" The four of them brought their gloved hands to their faces, ensuring that the gas mask each of them wore was tight on, letting no unfiltered air into their mouth or nose. It didn't matter how smart you thought you were, how resiliant you thought you were, or how well you thought you knew the building layout. Once she had you, it was over.

"All clear, then. Remember: we have air tanks, but the best way to live is to never lose the mask in the first place. Now then, on three..." The humans' attention moved to the door, and they tensed, ready for the dash in. "One... two... three!"

Artemis kicked the door in, snapping a couple of its hinges, then ran in, the other three close behind. Intel had been very good to them; getting to Wysteria was a direct path, no exploring and backtracking needed. All the squad had to do was get in, take out any of her scaly guards and helpers in their way, shred her scales and blast her to bits. It wasn't pretty, and the blue-clad man had correctly guessed that he'd have nightmares for months after their first job, but it was damned effective, and that's all that mattered against a dragon.

A couple rooms were cleared easily - the kobolds who didn't run fast enough earned a nice dirt nap. After that, the visibility started to worsen. Wysteria's breath weapon was pink, and that was the color the air began to turn as they hurried deeper into her lair.

"Behind us, sir!" Aura cried out. They spun, seeing something flying through the air towards them. A burst of rifle fire nicked it well before the projectile could come close, and with a loud explosion, it detonated. Artemis braced himself against the shock, and was pleased to see his squadmates did as well. Cecil threw a few more rounds down the corridor, in case the thrower had any more funny ideas, but they were soon back on pace.

Tobias went on the comms. "Hey, you guys hear a hissing?" she asked, "intel didn't say anything about nagas. Our girl's supposed to be kobold and kobold only."

Cecil slowed and turned his head to listen, then swore loudly. "Air tanks! They got mine."

"Right. Pressure check, guys. I'm at... aw hell, I'm zero in a few seconds," Artemis reported."

"Same."

"They got all of us- FUCK!" Tobias was on the ground, hand to her face. In front of her, the floor tile had sprung open, and a kobold, with one knife in her shin and one plunged towards her head, crouched before her. It was dead before it could even think to swing again.

Artemis crouched by her; Cecil and Aura brought their guns up, scanning for more aggressors. "Toby, did it get you? How are you doing?"

"I'm dead. Go."

"Hey," Artemis said firmly, "Johann patched up my eye, and he got that knife out of Aura's heart. You're not dead."

"No," Tobias said, letting her hand fall away. There was no blood, but the front of her gas mask had been severed. It couldn't have gotten all the filters, but... "I'm dead. Go." Tobias pointed onward.

Artemis followed her hand. It wasn't where Wysteria was. It wasn't where they came from. He sighed. "Toby... get yourself home, before it gets into you. We'll press on."

"Yes, sir." Tobias said. She stood, limping a little from her wounded leg, and hobbled off in a fourth, unrelated direction. Artemis got back up to his feet, too.

"Do we retreat?" Cecil asked. "We're down one now, no backup air. They land another hit like that, lucky or not, and I don't think we're getting out alive."

Artemis watched helplessly as Tobias, barely wounded, wandered to her death. "I... we don't have longer on. Take down Wysteria, and the kobolds should surrender fast enough." He gestured towards where the dragon would be, where the pink smoke billowed and they would need their visors to see even such a large creature. "Right now, we're best off making sure she has as little time as possible to prepare for us. Keep your eyes peeled for more tricks, but we're going after her."

Aura fired a round at a glimmer of scales, the resulting explosion rewarded with a yip and a crash, followed by seeing a dazed, possibly dead kobold fall across the door. "Agreed. We can't flee or fight if we wait here to be surrounded."

Cecil nodded. "Yes sir, ma'am." The three pressed on. Just a few more walls to wind around.

Suddenly, a blast of hot air slammed into them from the side. Cecil slid through the door to the next room over, but Aura and Artemis hit the wall, jarring his senses. Heart pounding with adrenaline, the man quickly got up, noticing with a twinge of dread that Aura failed to get up, just twitched weakly on the floor. Alive, he could tell, but unless Cecil showed back up, he'd be taking her on alone. On the plus side, he knew exactly where the dragoness was.

"I'm a little impressed. I actually had to step in!" Wysteria's voice was a low rumble; as she spoke, more thick, pink smoke fell from her jaws. Unfortunately for her, that just gave Artemis an excellent target. He swung his gun up, took aim at that fountain of smoke, and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened. He looked down. Jammed? No, his weapon didn't jam. He'd managed to run out of ammo taking out kobolds earlier. He reached for another mag, but stopped when he saw the kobold beside him. It watched him, the smuggest of smiles on its face, as it casually juggled a few magazines in its scaly hands, tossing them almost as high as his chest, before catching them all again and scurrying off.

"Don't look so low, human," the dragoness mocked, "I hear males of your species often have trouble shooting all their shot too early."

Artemis looked around. His thoughts went to Aura. Even if she couldn't fight, he could still use her weapon to fight, himself. However, when he looked back down towards her, he saw a blood-chilling sight. Aura had begun to shrink, golden scales appearing on her skin, and her face was gradually lengthening, like a snout. "A-aura?"

"Aw, he's grieving," Wysteria said without a hint of pity or concern. "Here, tell you what, silly human. No harm, no foul, right? You still haven't shot me, so I'm willing to allow you to take this... Aura of yours and flee. You're outnumbered one to... well, let's not get into details, and hopelessly outgunned. I do so wish that you'll take me up on the offer."

Silent, a little dumbfounded, he scooped Aura up in his arms. She was more kobold than human now, and light enough to carry, but if there was a way for Wysteria to do it, there had to be a way for someone to undo it. He turned and walked out of the room. Following the map he had used to find the dragoness, he now used it to find his way back out. A left, a right, two more lefts, straight a few times, and then left again.

As he rounded the last corner, he was relieved to see Johann in the med bay, waiting to tend to the squad's injuries. The doctor gestured for him to lay Aura down on the observation table, and for him to sit for his own examination. Artemis shook his head. "Doc, focus on her. I hardly got a scratch." Johann stared at him, then slowly shook his head and turned his attention to the golden-scaled kobold.

Artemis walked out of the room and into the freight elevator. He tapped the number for the dormitories, and waited as the spacious car ascended. Finally, the opposite door opened, and he stepped out as pink smoke billowed in. Wysteria blinked at him, then smiled. "Oh, don't you look nice now."

"How do I get Aura back to normal?" Artemis demanded. His voice sounded a little odd. Clearer than how it had been muffled when he first entered her lair, but still different from his usual voice. "I know you have to know!"

"Is your mask on tight enough?" she responded, "because you're making rather strange assumptions."

The man squinted at her. He reached up. His mask was still there. A little bulkier... longer, perhaps, and it pressed on his nose more comfortably than he thought it had been, but still there all the same. "Answer me, dragon."

The dragoness's smile widened into a sharp-toothed grin. "Strange, I would have thought you'd have taken it off when you dropped Goldie off. Oh well, I'll play along for a bit longer." At Artemis's sharp glare, she rolled her eyes. "Well, fine. I would tell you, but the spellbook with that information is being stolen. Bring the book AND the thief back to me, and I'll give you what's desired."

Artemis tilted his head, curious. "Is being stolen? Not was stolen?"

"The thief is a human clad in white. My other kobolds are trying to slow him down, but that's all they can seem to do. He's armed with a rifle of some kind, so be careful."

Artemis nodded as she spoke. "Alright. So, grab the thief, bring him back, and you'll tell me what to do about Gol- about Aura? Simple enough. Anything else?"

Wysteria smiled and blew a blast of pink smoke at him, just to tease him. "Oh, he's a good deal taller than most humans are, you'll think. But that's all. Mind your tail, little silver one."

[kentuckywrites]

Imperium: Noctilum

Ego vocem tuam. (I hear your voice.)

Nobody was keen on fighting in the jungle continent. Both sides agreed that it was too beautiful to be tainted by the shadow of war. But it was too dangerous to be a safe haven, so he had to be careful, lest the wilderness claim him as a sacrifice.

He lost his breath in Prim’ala-dor’ias, but continued to run on sheer will alone until he reached the mouth of the jungle continent. He fell to his knees, his lungs screaming for air, his hands clutching the moist soil below. 

The voice returned.

“Well done. You will be a good fit for my plan.”

“Who are you?” He gasped, his own voice raspy and dry.

“I cannot consider myself an ally or an enemy in your war, but I can tell you I am a friend. I simply want this war to come to an end by any means necessary.”

“I want it...to end, too.” He admitted, “But I don’t...I don’t see how it can...anytime soon.”

“That is where I come in. I have a plan. You will become the key to ending this war, but first you must accept me.”

“How do I accept you if I don’t know who - or what - you are?”

The voice was silent. He took the moment to straighten his spine, observe his surroundings. The quiet chirps of avian creatures, the gentle splashes of water coming from a distant lake, the breeze passing through the many leaves in the flora...it was breathtaking, it was beautiful, and in that moment it was his.

“I am the ground you kneel upon.”

The voice suddenly returned, and his eyes widened. 

“I am the wind in the trees. I am every animal that has walked upon this ground, and every animal that has swam in the oceans, and has flown in the skies. I am the plants and insects, and I am the weather, the rain and storms and clouds.”

He stared out at the landscape, unable to believe his ears. “You...you are…”

“I am the planet you call home.”

He finally closed his eyes, letting the darkness embrace him.

“If you’re telling the truth...if you really are the planet...then show me how to end this war.”

“With pleasure.”

A spark ran through his brain and his body collapsed. His screams of pain were lost to the wind.

~

Pongo didn’t remember what happened the night before. L never mentioned it, because Pongo had enough on his plate for the day. He was assigned in the early morning to a tyrant mission in Noctilum, to which L asked if he could tag along. Pongo was excited to have the company, and never suspected L’s reason for joining. He never even asked why L kept a close eye on Pongo, on his Skell as the team flew through the crisp morning air. 

However, Mia did notice, and asked about it when the team had touched down near the Everwhelm Falls. She hopped out of her Skell - a Verus Cain, a gift from Pongo - and immediately made her way to L, nudging his elbow.

“Heya big blue, you’ve been making googly eyes at Pon since we got the mission briefing this morning!” She teased, “What’s up with that? Got something to confess?”

L shook his head, acting amused. “We are incapable of making our eyes ‘google’, but we admit, we have been intrigued by Pongo. He is our dear friend and we care for him very much. We do not see that as quite a confession, more of a factual statement.”

“I mean, yeah, you guys being pals is great, but I meant you were looking at him all like...lovey dovey.”

“Love akin to doves? Do you perhaps mean love akin to rock doves? Because we assure you, that love is much more complex and -”

“L.” Mira stopped him, raising both gloved hands with a smirk. “Buddy. Pal. I’m just asking if ya love Pongo. Y’know. Love him. As more than friends.”

L placed a careful finger to his chin. He hadn’t thought about his connection to Pongo in that way before, and he knew what Mia was suggesting. It would take a great deal of personal time to come to the conclusion she was making, time he didn’t have just yet. His main concern was front and center. He decided to tell Mia part of the truth.

“We are not interested in pursuing the topic of rock dove love at the present time. Our mind has been egged and scrambled as of late, so mayhaps in our thoughts we have inclined our gaze towards Pongo.”

“Deny it now, but when you two get together you owe me fifty credits,” Mia winked, “I won’t push it for now.” Noticing that Pongo was finally exiting his Skell, she called out, “Hey PonPon! Where’s our big baddy?”

As he placed his feet on the ground, their fourth teammate, Lin, also jumped out of her own Skell. L recalled how Pongo had originally invited Elma to join their mission. She was suddenly pulled away by an urgent Reclaimer meeting - L had heard rumors of a large White Whale database washing ashore at the northernmost tip of Cauldros. Lin had jumped in at the last minute to fill the gap. After all, three people couldn’t take on such a large tyrant on their own. A four member team was a favorable option.

Pongo pulled out his comm device, and as they approached him L saw that he had a detailed map on his screen. A red circle was blinking, moving slowly away from their location.

“North of here,” Pongo replied, “But before we go in with guns on fire, remember that we have limited data available on this tyrant. We know about those Ovis that seem to follow it, so we might have to take them out too. I would like to avoid it, if possible.”

“We doin’ this on foot or by Skell do ya think?” Mia asked. 

“By Skell, for sure. I can stay on the ground to provide decoy through Ghost Factory, but we are definitely going to need the heavier fire from your mega weapon, Lin, and your G-Buster, Mia.”

“We are in possession of a Phoenix,” L added, against his desire to stay near Pongo, “If it is desired we shall also move our efforts to the sky!”

“That would be fantastic, though please be careful when you use it, the flame is big enough to aggravate enemies we do not wish to fight,” Pongo told him, “So then, three Skells, four if we need the extra offensive power. If you all focus on Pyotr, and it focuses on you, then I should have no problem giving you those buffs from the ground.”

“It’s like attacking bees versus a tiny nat,” Lin stifled a giggle, her attitude quickly changing with a simple realization. “That puts you in a dangerous spot if it does prioritize you, Pongo, you sure you’ll be okay?”

Pongo nodded, switching the comm device in his hand out for both of his dual guns. His photon saber was also strapped to his belt, a weapon L knew he favored. “I have full tension points on both the guns and the saber, enough for Overdrive and a bunch of buffs straight off the bat. Despite this, please do not do anything reckless - this is still a big tyrant, one that has taken down teams in the past. Keep in touch over comms, everyone, and best of luck out there.”

Everyone nodded, a sign of respect and of mutual preparedness. In their parting ways, Lin shared a quick glance with L, and immediately he knew she’d seen the connection. Elma had truly taught Pongo well, and it showed in his leadership. It was hard to think that he was the same person that L had stumbled into that one fateful day on the Noctilum road, a timid and soft spoken rookie. 

And it was even harder to think that he was Mira’s new avatar.

With that thought weighing heavy on his shoulders, L turned away, began to head back to his Skell. But he saw Pongo pause, his guns still in both hands. He was looking down at them, a glazed look to his eyes, and L called back to him after Lin and Mia had gotten into their own Skells.

“What would be troubling your mind, Pongo?”

Pongo blinked away the thoughts, rolled his shoulders, and didn’t meet L’s gaze. “Nothing, nothing, just...Pyotr was recorded to be a peaceful tyrant just a few weeks ago. I just wonder what could have caused its demeanor to shift…”

In understanding, L nodded, and a breeze picked up suddenly. He smelled the faint hints of rain on the wind and knew a storm was going to pass soon. Even without that knowledge, L could feel within his gut that something was going to happen, something bigger than any of them could fathom. He wished away the bad feeling before entering his Skell once again and taking to the skies, where Lin and Mia were hovering.

The intercom whirred to life as L found Pongo’s Skell in vehicular mode, dashing across the grassland. “Alright, team, our target is straight ahead. Remember to focus attacks on Pyotr and not the Ovis - we want minimal damage to the surrounding area if possible.”

“Right on. We’ve got your back,” Lin confirmed, “If you can get those buffs in quick then we could probably G-Buster Pyotr on a focused point on his body to maximize damage.”

“We are aware of the back side being a weakened point,” L suggested, “Let us focus our ignited ferocity there first!”

As Lin and Mia gave their agreement to the plan, a shadow appeared over the horizon, a large hulking figure with long limbs and a compact face. Moss grew around its crevices, over its back, its forehead, its hands and feet. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Pyotr, the Shepherd. And there was no doubt that the two figures prancing underneath its feet were the two forewarned Ovis - Claire the Sheltered, Heidi the Lively. There was no way that they’d leave their shepherd to die, L knew at first glance. And with Pongo on the ground, there was a high chance he’d be the first to deal with them.

Something stirred within L. He had felt it before, dark and heavy.

Fear.

“L, NOW!”

When had Lin and Mia prepared their G-Busters?! No matter, L was quick to slam down on the corresponding arts button, and in quick succession, the three flying Skells drew their massive swords and slammed them down onto Pyotr’s backside. Unassuming and unprepared, Pyotr screamed, and a part of his back was sliced clean off. Pongo’s cheer was clear on the comm.

“YES! Keep hitting him where it counts - Ghost Factory!”

He was out of his Skell and on the ground, the familiar shadows echoing around him as he raised his guns out on both sides. L flew a full circle around Pyotr, looking for more weak spots as Lin drew his attention away. Maybe the knees should go next, he thought, maybe it would be worth it to knock him down and get him staggered, or better yet, toppled -

“Chief, the Ovis are riled up! Watch your back!” Mia shouted across the comm, and L noted that as he feared, both Claire and Heidi were charging Pongo. A swing and a miss from Pyotr’s massive fist diverted L’s attention before he could see whether Pongo heeded Mia’s warning. Everything moved faster than he could comprehend, and everything suddenly felt heavier, that feeling of fear consuming his body. His eyes widened when he made eye contact with Mia’s Skell, well above his own, and watched as Pyotr made another swing, this time directed at her. She wasn’t as lucky in avoiding it, taking the majority of the punch in her Skell’s right arm. She cursed over the intercom, but quickly assured them that she would be okay, it wasn’t enough to rip the arm off.

As the human saying went, she should have knocked her hand on a wooden surface.

Pyotr made another quick uppercut, nailing Mia’s Skell right in the cockpit. She was able to get one more curse over the intercom before she went radio silent, before L saw her smoking Skell fall from the sky. Lin cried out her name, and in that moment of prolonged distraction, Pyotr swung wildly at her Skell. L’s heart caught in his throat as he saw both Skells now toppling to the ground, smoking, damaged. 

“Lin, Mia, help me out! L, keep him distra - oW -”

Pongo’s orders were cut off. L knew why. The Ovis were becoming a problem, little ticks on his skin that he couldn’t shake. L decided in a moment of clarity that being a distraction would be a suicide attempt, that he should move his efforts to the ground and help them where he could. His Skell landed, and he jumped out before Pyotr could knock him out of the sky.

Instead, Pyotr decided to knock him right back into the sky. Ten feet away from his Skell, the enraged Sylooth kicked at his tiny body. The impact sent him flying towards Pongo, flying towards the Ovis and straight into the ground. L coughed up dirt - and, was that blood, that blue taint there? - but forced himself to stand up. His right arm ached and he grabbed it with his left, feeling something swelling underneath his sleeve. He looked up after feeling the damage. 

And there was Pongo, a tiny little thing, standing alone in front of Pyotr. His guns had lowered in defeat, his photon saber lying deactivated meters away. Two destroyed Skells had crash landed too far away, but he saw both Lin and Mia’s forms outside of them, each sporting their own collection of injuries. They were in no place to fight, none of them were. Pyotr roared as he realized he had won, Claire and Heidi joining with chirps of their own. Pongo’s form shook with fatigue and stress. He should have fallen, but something was keeping him upright. Pyotr noticed this, raising his fist, preparing to end what they had begun. 

Barely standing, L’s mouth opened, a silent scream. But Pongo spoke first.

And it was in a language L knew wasn’t human. 

He knew it wasn’t one the planet would translate. But L knew it, he knew what Pongo was saying, and in his awe he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt.

“Wait, please!”

Pyotr’s fist stopped in the air, unclenching as Pongo shouted. It blinked once, nearly as confused as Lin and Mia appeared to be. Unaware and unassuming, Pongo continued, “Please, spare my friends! We were only acting on orders!”

And finally, Pongo became confused, for L heard Pyotr respond in a deep rumble, a language only they could hear. 

THERE HAVE BEEN ATTEMPTS AGAINST US BEFORE. WE ONLY WISH FOR PEACE.

“...Then why have you been hurting us?”

YOU HAVE SCARED US INTO FIGHTING. THIS CONTINENT WAS ONCE A PLACE OF PEACE, A HAVEN FROM WAR. WE ONLY WISH TO COEXIST WITH THE LIFE AROUND US.

And with those words, L’s body became heavy, weighed down by millenia of memories, millenia of suffering and pain. Did Pongo know the weight of Pyotr’s plea? Had Mira granted him that knowledge? He simply fell to his knees, unable to raise his head and watch the encounter unfold. 

“That is our wish too, to be at peace with the life around us…”

THEN WHY HAVE YOU BEEN HURTING US?

There was a pause, and L managed to lift his head high enough to see Pongo, the tears falling down his tired face. “We...We never meant to hurt you. We were just trying to protect ourselves…”

AND WE, TOO, HAVE BEEN STRIVING TO PROTECT OURSELVES. YOU ARE FOREIGNERS TO THIS WORLD, AND WE HAVE FELT THREATENED BY YOUR EXPANSIONS, YOUR WARS.

“The Ganglion were the ones who -”

YOU ARE AS MUCH A PART OF THIS WAR AS THEY ARE. DO NOT PLACE BLAME FOR A TWO SIDED WAR ON ONE SIDE, FOR YOUR KIND CHOSE TO FIGHT BACK.

“We had no choice but to fight back! Peace was never an option with the Ganglion, if we did not fight back we would have all died!”

The hulking form of the Shepherd went quiet. Claire and Heidi bounded up to its feet, rubbing against the false tree bark skin. They dared not speak. L saw Pyotr’s chest rise and fall, heavy breathing, an eventual sigh that stirred the air around them.

IT SEEMS ALL CONFLICTS MUST BE RESOLVED WITH VIOLENCE. IT PAINS US, KNOWING THIS. 

Pongo stifled a sob. “It hurts me, too. We have lost so many innocents, just like I imagine you have. But...could we at least work towards peace now? Come to an understanding?”

There was no hesitation.

IT WOULD BRING US GREAT JOY TO SPEAK WITH YOU. BUT WE DO HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU, BEFORE OUR NEGOTIATIONS START.

“Absolutely! What would you ask of me?”

YOU ARE NOT LIKE THE OTHER HUMANS. WHAT ARE YOU?

L’s eyes widened, forcing himself up into a kneeling position. Pongo hesitated - no, he didn’t know his true nature, and L expected him to answer as such. Even so, L knew what he had to do. After this was said and done, he’d pull Pongo aside, shed light on his darkness. Pongo had a right to his truth. 

“I am simply a kinder human than most, I would like to think.” Pongo eventually responded, “Now if I could ask this of you: might I tend to the wounds of my friends before this conversation? I want to make sure they are okay.”

OF COURSE. MY APOLOGIES FOR DESTROYING YOUR...AVIARY CONSTRUCTIONS.

Pongo quickly turned and made his way towards Lin and Mia, who drilled confused holes through his brain. L stayed put, trying to focus on his breathing - in, out, in, out. His team had almost been wiped out and they were about to sit down and have a chat with a Miran native - of course his nerves were about him. 

L almost didn’t acknowledge one of the Ovis stepping up to him. Only when she nudged his shoulder did he blink and await her prompt.

YOU ARE ONE OF THE F’LENLA A’SLEGN, AND YET THE HUMAN WHO SPOKE WITH US IS NOT. HOW IS HE ABLE TO SPEAK THE LANGUAGE OF MIRA?

L looked towards Pongo, making sure he was out of earshot before he responded.

“Our dearest friend, it is because he is not human at all.”

[legendbrother-blog]

* seeing you guys being gay on main makes ME want to be gay on main

* but i have no one to be gay on main with …

[asarahworld-writes]

The Silver Separation

What happens when the Doctor and Rose Tyler accidentally land on a planet where aliens are taken into custody?  And humans are subject to societal re-integration?

Inspired by trope bingo from...long ago... by @timepetalscollective

AO3 link

Chapter One

“Run!”  The Doctor felt a familiar hand slip into his and he started to run without a second thought.  He glanced into Rose’s eyes as they wove through the crowded market, not knowing where exactly they were going.

“Flirting with another one of your pretty boys?”  His voice was gruff, but his eyes were twinkling, and Rose had to laugh at his jealous antics.  He’d never change, she thought, even after four regenerations together.  The Doctor and Rose Tyler, together, like they should be.

“How many times do I promise you forever, and yet you still think that I’m flirting with the locals,” she replied cheekily, her tongue poking through her teeth in a way that always managed to arouse the Doctor’s interest.  “Honestly Doctor, I’m all yours.”

“Yes, well, that’s what got us into this mess,” he said snarkily, trying to make light of the situation.

“What, is that it then?  That I’m in love with an alien?”  Rose said lightly.

“That too.”  The Doctor pulled Rose down into an alleyway, drawing his hoodie over his head as an extra precaution.

On the main street, law enforcement officers searched for them.  It wasn’t that they had done anything illegal, not really.  How was he supposed to have known that nonhumans were banned entirely from the planet? It wasn’t as if there was a sign that said to stay away, and if there was, it was probably in the planet’s orbit, bypassed by the TARDIS’ landing circuitry.  It wasn’t his fault that his brilliant ship could avoid all that extra travel and they had missed the glaringly obvious warnings.

“Tall, handsome stranger, pushing me up against some back-alley wall.  Either I’m about to have the greatest shagging of my life, or they’re getting closer,” Rose whispered, her hands pinned against the Doctor’s chest.

“It could be both, if you could ever learn to be quiet,” the Doctor stressed the last word, straining to hear what was happening on the main street.  Rose could hear the officers conferring with one another on their radios, and she looked at the Doctor, silently asking about his plan. He laid a finger across her lips and Rose, ever the minx, kissed it.  “Rose,” he growled.

Her playful smile grew into a feral smirk.  “Yes Doctor?”

“Shh,” he said lowly. Rose pouted playfully, silently stroking his thumb with her free hand, knowing that now was not the time for distractions.

“Doctor!” Rose cried as she was ripped from his side.  She tried to elbow her captors, kicking fruitlessly as she was roughly pulled away.  “Doctor!”

“Rose!”  Her name burst from his lips.  “Rose!  Let go,” he snapped at the alien pinning him against the wall.  “Where are you taking her?”  His eyes flickered dangerously from the alien to Rose and back again, standing so still that he felt the alien tremble.

“She is human,” the guard said neutrally, shackling the Doctor’s hands behind his back.

“Where are you taking her?”  The Doctor attempted to calm the brewing Oncoming Storm.  The sonic was in his breast pocket, unreachable for now.

“It is none of your concern,” the guard snapped.  “You are not human and will be taken for processing.”

“And what of Rose?” The Doctor asked darkly.

“The human female will be taken back to our people.  She will not be punished, but rather re-integrated into civilized society,” the guard said distastefully.

“Oh, is that what you call this?  Civilized?” The Doctor said scathingly.  The guard did not dignify him with a response.

The Doctor was taken to a facility on the outskirts of the town.  The walls must have stood proud at one moment in history, but now they crumbed, though a shiny silver gate loomed ominously behind them.  He did not have long to take in his surroundings – the guard impatiently prodded his back with every wayward glance.

The Doctor’s mind (and hearts) raced.  He needed a plan.  He needed to find Rose.  He needed to escape this facility.  He needed to get out of the cell where the guard had left him.

The cell’s door would be simple to unlock with a pulse from the sonic screwdriver.  He could then activate the invisibility watch, and while this would allow him to leave unnoticed, his disappearance would probably set the guards on high alert.  Which meant that he would need to find Rose quickly and leave for the TARDIS as soon as possible.  The Doctor momentarily wondered why his plans never failed to come together simply but always became complicated the moment one was set in action.

It had been roughly forty-five minutes since they had been forcibly separated.  Rose was currently being examined by the facility’s chief physician.

“You have been contaminated,” the man said clinically.  “Computer begin Decontamination Sequence Alpha Two.”

“What’s that mean? Contaminated by what?  What’s this decontamination thing?”  Rose struggled against her restraints.

REPORT. EXTERNAL RESIDUE ON PATIENT’S LIPS, HANDS.  NO INTERNAL RESIDUE DETECTED.  The computer’s mechanical voice was tinny as it read out her vital signs.

Rose frowned as she worked out why they were scanning her.  Her face flushed as the meaning of the computer’s report became apparent. “What’s it matter to you if I’m… if I’m dancing with someone?”  She demanded.  The computer did not reply.

“Infection,” the physician said brusquely.

“Where’s the Doctor?” Rose’s eyes narrowed.  The people of this planet clearly did not take kindly to alien visitors, even those of their own species, and she worried for the Doctor’s safety, despite his greater experience.

“The alien is in confinement.”

“Well that’s a rubbish answer,” Rose’s Cockney accent grew thicker, laced with anger.  The physician unlocked her restraints and pressed a button on the wall.

“Two two A,” he said into the comm, and the door to the corridor opened.  “There are security personnel randomly positioned in the corridors, who shall assist you if you should leave your quarters.”

“Where. Is. The. Doctor?”  Rose asked again, her hands balled by her sides.

“I shall be your doctor.  Is there a problem?  Come back to the examination room and I can help you.”   The physician’s tone had softened, no doubt in some attempt to placate her.

“No, thanks.”  Rose seethed. She would find him, regardless of the policies on a wayward planet.  They would always find each other.

“Please proceed to room twelve-R.  End of the corridor, last door on the right,” he said cordially.  Rose did not reply but went to the room.

She looked around the flat – six doors down either wall.  It crossed her mind that some of the other ‘residents’ must be in a similar situation to her own.

The Doctor had once said that the domestic approach was what he liked about her, Rose remembered fondly.  She decided to get to know her temporary neighbours, reasoning that the people on this floor must all be human.  She opened the door to ‘her’ room, slipping inside and watching until the guard had left. As soon as the corridor was clear, Rose stepped back out and knocked confidently on the door opposite.

“Hello?”  A short man, with a Parisian accent (city, Rose thought dimly, not planet) stood in the doorframe.  “Can I help you?”  He sounded bemused.

“Hi, I’m Rose,” she said, plastering a smile on her face, “they’ve put me in just across the corridor.  What’s your name?”

“I am Raoul,” the man replied.

“S nice to meet you Raoul.”  Rose plunged straight into a tirade of questions.  “Do you know where we are?  Why are the police (are they legal?  Are they police?  Military?) segragatin’ people by species?  How long ‘ave you been here?”

Raoul blinked owlishly.  “No, technically, it’s sort of complicated, I don’t really know, around three and a half years,” he said slowly.

“Blimey, wasn’t really expectin’ an answer to every one of those,” Rose murmured.  Raoul shrugged.  “S just that most times, people tend to look at me like ‘m crazy,” she chuckled.

“Spending three and a half years in relatively solitary confinement does tend to leave one’s social skills somewhat vulgar.”  Raoul smiled politely.

“What do you know about this place?  I… came here with someone, but ‘e was taken somewhere else.”  Rose began, rather cautiously.

“He’s not human,” Raoul surmised.  Rose looked up.  “Your partner.  It is clear in your eyes.  I have not seen my Ramón since coming to this wretched place.”

“M so sorry.” Rose thought of the Doctor – the way his smile would light up his face, how soft his hair felt between her fingers, the warmth of his double heartbeat at night.  She refused to believe that they would be separated forever.  Never ever.

“It is not your doing, Rose.”

“Nope.”  Rose was thinking.  She heard footsteps patter down the corridor.  Eyes widening with fright and suspicion, Rose made to dash back to her cell, but Raoul held her sleeve.

“The guards only care about keeping us separated from our lov-, from any aliens.  Mingling amongst ourselves is permitted, even encouraged,” he said bitterly.  Nevertheless, Rose remained tensed until Raoul had released her.

“I don’t really care about what’s permitted,” she tried to refrain from seething at her only ally in this prison.  “I need to find the Doctor.”

“As I must find Ramón,” Raoul said gently.

Rose’s demeanour softened at the reminder that Raoul was in the same situation, that he had been here much, much longer.

“What do you know about this place?”  For the next few hours, Raoul told Rose all that he had observed about the prison. The facility was mainly an alien prison, though it also imprisoned any humans who had been arrested for fraternization.  The guards shifted approximately every five and a half hours, with a longer changeover during human prisoner mealtimes.

Breaking out seemed hopeless.  Even if they managed to somehow get off this apartment floor, neither Rose nor Raoul knew what lay outside the building, nor where in the facility the aliens were kept.

“Rose,” Raoul was shaking her shoulder.  Blinking blearily, Rose was groggily coming to the realization that she had fallen asleep in Raoul’s room.

“M sorry,” she yawned. Apparently, she had been nodding off for the latter part of their conversation.  Rose muttered a goodbye – more sleep sounded very appealing to her weary body – and she trudged back to the room that the guard had left her in.