#so I'm slowed down at handling comms and everything else

[doodliver]

OC lineless commission for @RomaD1S (on Twitter), thank you very much! I loved his concept! he's a cool boi✨

[ghostssweetgirl]

crazy over you ~ simon ghost riley x reader slow burn/enemies to lovers

description: y/n gets transferred to task force 141 and quickly becomes friends with soap and gaz, but her and ghost "hate" each other for the first part. warnings: mentions of violence and death (duh), alcohol intake, smoking (at some point), nsfw (at some point), subtle flirting with soap. i'm new to writing? so don't expect this to be the greatest. this is not in line with the game campaigns or missions. the only characters i included are y/n, soap, gaz, price, & ghost. i have no knowledge of the military this is just creativity disclaimer: i do not own modern warfare or any of its characters.

chapters: next [mission successful] last

You wake up allowing yourself time to shower and fully prepare, physically and mentally. You pack your bag with everything you may need, not knowing how long this mission will take. This is not the time to make any mistakes, you have to prove yourself. Finally, you head down to the kitchen to hydrate with several glasses of water to see everyone else in the same room as well.

"Morning, Diamond," Price said.

"Morning!" you murmured with a tired voice.

Price orders everyone to head to the conference room since everyone was already up, figuring to go ahead and get started.

As he goes over the details, you learn you're being paired with fucking Ghost to keep a set of eyes on Soap while he retrieves a USB that contains data full of intel while Price and Gaz talk to the leaders.

You fight yourself internally, telling yourself that you will not allow yourself to fail just because you're going to be with Ghost. He'll get used to your presence; you're not going anywhere. It can't possibly go wrong. How much simpler could it be? If anything, you were thankful this was your first mission. You will be able to get used to seeing how the Task Force handles their selves, and how you can conform your abilities to fit in best. You're relieved they're not sending you to retrieve this data.

--

After gathering weapons, and equipment. Everyone gets in the helo, and you sit in the furthest corner, to cherish the time to yourself before getting this mission over with. You notice how everyone else is cutting up and laughing, and you smirk at their optimism.

Your loneliness was interrupted by the Captain, who came over to check on you.

"Hey," he groaned while he sat down. "Damn these old bones... Listen, you're gonna do fine, kid. Ya nervous?"

"Little bit, I guess," you shrug and reposition yourself. "Guess I'm just scared of rejection or failure. I don't know... but thank you, sir."

"What about your old base and the missions you used to do there, huh?" he questioned.

"Yeah, well, I was good but not as good as them," you gesture to the group of men. "We did some crazy things, and even lost some people. But after reading the files, I can't imagine what they've gone through, yet they're not nervous."

He nods and stands up, "Shit'll grow on ya, y/l/n. We do the dirty work that keeps the world clean... 'n rid the world of filth. Chin up."

--

Everyone gets dropped off in their respective areas securely. When you and the Lieutenant finally arrive at the site, he breaks the awkward silence, though not nicely.

"Don't fuck this up, y/n," he instructs. "Don't fire unless Price or I order you to. That simple."

"Yes, sir," you nod, getting into position. Yeah, no shit. You glance over and see Price and Gaz conversing with a group of men, then back on the floor Soap's on.

Soap comes through on the comms, "Got eyes on the file, Ghost."

"Easy, MacTavish. Watch your six, two men coming up behind."

Soap takes notice, and in 4 quick moves, takes down the enemies with expertise. New enemies approaching him on either side, you and Ghost nod at each other.

"I got the one on the right," you nodded at Ghost as he understood.

Steadying your aim, you shoot the guy in his jugular, causing blood to squirt out as he collapses. You see the other enemy hit right between the eyes.

"Nice shot, soldier," Ghost called. You smile, quite proud of yourself, and weirdly happy Ghost acknowledges your success, for now.

"Soap, how copy?"

"Solid. Got the USB."

"Head up to the rooftop for an exit," Ghost rasped.

You look over at Ghost who was already looking at you, "Get in the chopper, wait for me."

You obey and get in, leaning against the wall. Your heart almost steadies as you think the mission is over. Ghost gets in after you, and when you head over to collect Soap, to your surprise, he's surrounded by 10 men, making him drop his weapons. Fuck, you complain.

"Price, Soap is surrounded," you speak over comms. 

"Shit. Distract them. Take 'em down," Price ordered, surprisingly calmly.

Your eyes widen when you have to think of a way to distract them on the spot, so, you leave your rifle and holster your pistol, hoping that if there's a God up above, he'll certainly help you at this moment.

As the helicopter approaches the building, the squad of men points their guns at you while you hop down, holding your hands up. "Hi, boys," you smirk, praying this will work. You walk around a generator, letting them focus on you so Ghost can get out and sneak up on them. "What're we doing out here? Whatcha got? Or who do you have here?"

"Oh, relax, I'm not going to do anything!" you lie, hands still up, smiling at them as they look at each other in confusion. You slowly step closer, carefully observing the surroundings, watching Ghost creep up and take one out silently, stabbing him 5 times in his carotid. Then another... and another. Damn, he is good at his job.

The chopper flies away, letting you guys' sort this out.

"Ugggh," you groan. "You guys are no fun! Not going to invite me to the party?"

You had no fucking clue what you were doing but it was confusing them, too as they were speaking another language, trying to figure out what the fuck you were doing. You're surprised they haven't shot you yet.

You figure this is it, Ghost has taken out 3 men without them noticing, and you don't know how. You and Soap make eye contact and nod at each other - mentally understanding. You and Soap move in unison as he grabs his pistol that was kicked to the side, and fires it at the enemy, and while the one in front of you looks behind themselves, holding their gun up, you take the opportunity to grab your knife and puncture it through one's neck, blood splattering all over you.

5 down, 3 to go.

Ghost is lucky you didn't feel him staring at you for a quick second. The sight ahead of him, you covered in blood, did something to him.

You felt a gun staring at you, but before it could go off, Ghost body slammed him and sliced his throat, Soap fist fighting one, and that leaves the last one to you. He must have gotten his gun knocked out of his hands because he runs at you with a knife, and you move out of the way quick enough to let him fall. You tower over him from behind, pick his head up from his hair and slit his throat with ease.

Well, the mission was successful after all.

"Captain, we got 'em. Ready for pickup," Ghost declared, out of breath.

Soap walks up to you, patting your shoulder, "Good job, lass, didn't think that was working. Hi, boys!" he mocks you in a higher-pitched tone, literally giggling.

"Shut up, I didn't know what else to do to distract them," you chortled.

"It worked," Ghost chimed in. "Fortunately."

"Aye, she did nice."

"I did most of the work," Ghost hissed. You scoff internally. You really can't please this man. You forgot about him as you couldn't wait to eat, you were starving. Glad the mission took less time than you expected, you silently pat yourself on the back for surviving.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Surprise alt PoV on Saturday's fic...? Magic exhaustion is totally exhaustion and I wrote basic type back on the fainting day so like. Enjoy some weird shit instead.

XCOM AU, again, with people having extremely bad times. Referenced torture, everything's a bit on the magic end of things for me to be sure how to warn it. Oh right! Implied Major Character Death (they learn this isn't actually the case before the end of the story, but do believe it for long enough to have genuine grief hours about it). Actual major character injury. Psychic torture. Poorly explained magic and soulmate system.

Mostly Forever, Cellbit, and Pac, with background Fit/Pac and not-on-screen-but-vital-to-story Pac & Mike

The meeting has been over for a good twenty minutes now. Most of the Order have dispersed back to their days, but a few still hang around the command centre. Forever is nominally in charge of navigation, but auto-pilot is engaged and they don't have anywhere specific to go. It's the sort of day where one person can manage both navigation and comms, though Cellbit has pulled up a chair and an old book of puzzles to keep himself occupied as he pretends to handle the later.

Not that puzzles are being done, at the moment; currently they're both over by the holographic map system, lazily watching the flightpath while chatting with Pac. Ever since Mike was kidnapped two - maybe three - months ago, he's been out of sorts. Of course he has - Forever doesn't understand what a soul-bond means, not innately, but to have someone trusted with your head pulled away? In danger with nothing you can do, with every lead going nowhere? Pac's honestly dealing weirdly well.

Forever knows he and Cellbit dealt /much/ worse when Felps was stolen from them.

"Any plans tonight?" he asks, when the conversation Cellbit and Pac were having slows to a halt.

"Roier wanted to show me something," Cellbit's face goes soft for a moment at the mention. "Who knows how it'll go?"

"Not really," Pac blinks a little harder than normal. "Maybe the bar? Is there anything else to do?"

"Steal the lab back for an evening?" Cellbit suggests.

"Dating!" is Forever's reply.

Pac laughs at the first, and goes red at the second.

"Ohhhh," Forever laughs, suddenly realising. "Is Fit going to be at the bar, by any chance?"

"I- Ah- Maybe!" Pac's hands swish about the air with just quite how flustered he is by the mere suggestion. "What about you? Aren't you up to anything?"

"Me?" Forever replies, teasing. "Well now you ask... No, not much. Pierre had some new reports I should probably start working through."

"The elerium reports?" Cellbit's eyes light up. "He's finished? Did he have much to say about it?"

"His report's short, Tubbo's though..." Forever laughs.

"Tubbo's right, though," Pac looks over to a point between Forever and Cellbit, thinking hard. "If we can fully harness it... Ship power isn't going to be a problem again. We might even be able to use it to channel... No, I don't think it'll work for grenades. We don't have enough anyway. But if we can find a way to safely embed it... You might... Maybe... You should make Tubbo talk to Pierre. I'm not up to date on all our schematics, and I'm not Mike, but... With the right wiring it should make energy weapons viable? And! The alloys he was looking at for the new armour? If I'm right about it-"

At some point during the ramble, Forever had looked away; one of the engineers was flagging him down for permission to start maintenance on the steering system. He is in the middle of giving them the thumbs up when Pac's ramble cuts off.

Forever abandons the engineer, head snapping back around to check on him.

Pac often trails off.

But Pac does /not/ cut off at the peak of excitement in a ramble. Not unless it's followed by an apology. Never to nothing, never to dead silence.

Forever's correct; Pac has frozen up, his eyes overtaken by a haze of glowing blue.

Fuck, psionics; Forever looks to Cellbit, who shakes his head - not anything he can detect, and so not anything from an attack.

Just in case he still sees Cellbit extend a nullification field over Pac - and Forever as well. No change.

Pac's fingers, previously loose on the guard rail as he leant against it, are white with the tension in his grip.

"Pac...?" Forever glances back and forth between Cellbit and Pac as he speaks. "Everything okay?"

Pac blinks.

Usually it would erase the glow.

This time... The colour shifts.

Right eye remains blue.

Left eye shifts to green.

"... Mike?"

If it /is/ Mike, some sort of long distance contact from his cell that Cellbit and Pac had both called too dangerous to attempt over the distance...

Forever tries to remind himself it means something is terribly wrong - Mike would have tried this earlier if he thought that he could - but all that happens is that his heart soars.

A lead, a lead, for the first time in months they have a better lead than 'somewhere in Australia, South-East Asia, the Pacific, or South America'. He's no idea how good a lead, but it is one.

"Mike!" Cellbit's call for their missing friend is sharper. "Pac? What's happening? Where are you?"

Pac - Mike - neither of them respond. Pac doesn't even blink, his body rigid against the guard rail.

Cellbit reaches an arm behind him, making sure he doesn't fall back over it if at any point he goes limp. The action... The action forces Forever's brain into accepting just how serious this probably is.

And no matter what, once this is over Pac is going to be a wreck. He's coping... badly, but so much better than any of them thought he would, the bad limited to reckless disregard for his own safety, not anything else. After this, though, after having Mike in his brain only to have to leave...

If he and Cellbit aren't enough to help - and they won't be - there's two other people Forever can think that Pac might want. He grabs his communicator, sending messages summoning Fit and Felps.

Fit is on the training range, and Felps is probably asleep, but at least they'll come as soon as they're free.

Forever and Cellbit... They can work with that.

He leaves Cellbit to do whatever psionic things he's trying - soul-bonds aren't like Cellbit's academic psionics, but it comes from the same root source, they think - and does what he can.

The engineer has taken his distraction for permission, and is doing her job. Forever... This isn't his, but all the crew are his responsibility - and especially the Brazilians.

He takes one of Pac's hands, peeling it from the guard rail and interlacing the fingers with his own.

Nails dig deep into his hand as Pac, still blank eyed and otherwise unresponsive, clings back.

It stays like that for a few minutes - even on their ship they refuse to leave Pac alone and vulnerable. Just... Forever holding his hand, Cellbit protecting his back, and Pac's face completely blank in a way Pac's never is.

Forever can read the tension in his body, though, the way the shaking grows with every breath.

He does his best to reassure them, whatever combination of Tazercraft can or cannot hear him, all the while shooing anyone looking into walking past. Fit and Felps still haven't replied, but it's okay, it's okay, he and Cellbit can at least keep Pac curled up sobbing somewhere safe until other help arrives. Forever wants to fix it, wants to take the tension from Pac's spine and bring him Mike - the only real way to soothe the gash in his soul - wants to just keep those he cares about safe.

But, no, all Forever can do is hold Pac's hand as the minutes tick away.

Tick, tick, tick away...

One minute

Two minutes

Three.

Four minutes pass, five...

The green disappears from Pac's eyes.

He screams.

The blue is still there, lashing out from his eyes. Forever drops his hand to try to pull Pac against him; Cellbit shifts like he's about to try and do the same.

Before they can touch him, it stops. It all stops. Pac crumples to the floor, deathly silent, terrifyingly still - a limp, dead weight. Forever catches him against his shoulder, easing him to the floor, unable to think, unable to breathe. Cellbit takes over, calling Pac's name, checking his breathing, lowering him onto his side.

Forever drops to his knees, and lets the jolt of pain break the trance. He grabs his comm back up, not even looking as he flicks the button to summon someone from medical.

"Is that...?" he looks to Cellbit, and Cellbit looks back.

And, fuck, Cellbit is just as helpless as him.

"No idea," their best expert on psionics says, and they're fucked; Forever knew that, but can't blame a man for hoping. "Bonds aren't... I don't do bonds. Pac would be the one to ask."

And Pac is the one lying on the floor.

It's another couple of seconds before Pac's eyes blink open. As soon as he sees, Forever leans down, brushing a hand along his cheek.

"Pac?" he asks. "Pac, are you okay?"

Pac's eyes do find him, and do focus properly. It's a relief, even as the tears start flowing.

Forever... Forever doesn't know what could possibly cause such a violent reaction, but his heart shatters at the possibilities. He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to think-

"Mike," Pac whispers between the sobs. "Mike..."

Too late, too late, they're too fucking late.

Forever can see his own hands shake as he brushes them across Pac's skin. He needs to pace, to scream, to think, to plan, to- to- there is /no/ making this right, but he /has/ to, he has to, he has to, Mike can't- He can't be-

Forever cannot even think the word.

Cellbit is also quiet.

Cellbit's hands are also trembling.

Cellbit must have concluded the same.

Forever wonders why the fuck Cellbit has not taken back his position, when Forever sits here trembling and Cellbit manages to at least flag the medics down.

They nudge him to one side, two helping Pac while the third orders him and Cellbit to sit, orders someone else to get warm drinks, and generally takes control of the support staff. Someone - Forever thinks it might be Jaiden, but he can't quite see more than a purple blur, so it could be Vegetta - has taken over navigation and comms. One of those warm drinks is placed in his hands, and another in Cellbit's. Pac is able to - with a bit of help - sit by the time he's helped onto a stretcher. It's a relief, it's a relief, if the only one Forever has - and, fuck, how does he face Pac again, when he didn't have the information.

Fit appears at some point. One of Tubbo's people - Tubbo's people, who used to be Pac and Mike's people, fuck - directs him.

Fit's face is pale, when he sprints off.

Felps joins them even later. He doesn't say anything as he worms his way between Forever and Cellbit, pulling them both into a hug.

Bagi's away from the Avenger, doing work with Tina and one of the rebel cells. They're necessarily out of contact; they have time to work out how to tell her. Everyone else... Fit will work it out, once he sees Pac - if he hasn't already. Otherwise... Maybe he can fob the announcement off on Wilbur, but it doesn't seem right, doesn't seem... He's the commander of this operation, it's /supposed/ to be his job.

But he can't, he can't - right now all he can think of is pink hair and sharp laughter and a sharper mind, bright eyes behind taped together glasses.

They... They still don't know where he is. They'll never even be able to retrieve a body; the thrice-damned Federation will have melted it down for parts before they get there.

Just like they did to all those civilians...

That's what breaks him, in the end. Forever curls over Felps shoulder, and sobs into his neck.

Mike, Mike, Mike...

He's lost everyone before - lost Mike before, not once, but twice.

It still hurts, it still hurts, maybe it even hurts worse than before.

Really, he should have known miracles don't come in threes.

---

At some point, Felps steers them all into the privacy of Forever's... office-slash-bedroom. There's definitely a desk and computer there, but also some old beaten up couches, a thousand filing cabinets, and an old army bed shoved in a corner.

There's also a coffee machine on a table between two of the cabinets, and Forever doesn't have the strength to stop Cellbit from abusing it today.

He's trying to plan, trying to think - but what can he do? They know where the /Hunter/ is, they could get revenge, but there's still the Warlock, and even taking out those three doesn't promise safety. His instincts say pull everyone back, cocoon up, drag everyone else to safety and let nothing touch them ever again - especially now there's /children/ on the ship too.

But they don't have that choice. They have too many friends, too many allies, too many people to save and too few of them would ever leave the world to burn.

Fit's not come to find them, so at least Pac isn't alone. He should go, he should maybe try comfort Pac, but what can he say? Sorry my contacts weren't good enough to find your soulmate before he was murdered? Fuck, he can't do that.

But then again...

Felps is telling a story, trying to keep their minds off things they cannot change. Cellbit doesn't seem to be listening, and Forever certainly isn't, but there's some things he just cannot change.

They did get Felps back.

... They did, right?

Forever reaches out, grabbing his wrist. His fingers find his pulse, and he forces himself to breathe. Felps was dead - everyone was convinced Felps was dead - but he wasn't actually. He wasn't harvested and liquidised, his brain was used as a CPU for a supercomputer instead. Horrific, horrifying,with mental and physical scars to this day, but they got Felps back.

Maybe...

Pac would know if Mike was still alive, even like that; if the soulbond is still there, it's there. If it's not...

Though...

Oh.

Forever pulls Felps with him as he marches to one of the cabinets. Which mission, which mission, which mission...

There. Operation Wailing Feast. No losses of their own, minimal civilian causalities too, but it was more by sheer, dumb luck than anything else. Philza had been in command, but Roier had written the initial report, the paperwork slightly smeared in blood, because Mike had been a sobbing mess, and the rest of the squad were recovering from major surgery.

It was before there was a proper medical facility on the ship, too; Aypierre's lab was thoroughly cleaned first, sure, but between needing to do surgery in an autopsy lab, and the only place for them to go after being the beds at the side of the common room, it's a wonder all of them made it.

They had - all of them had recovered - but it had never been a sure thing.

Another failure on Forever's part - he should have realised they'd need a medical ward sooner, should have made it the highest priority. But the cash just wasn't coming, and the parts, and...

And, there is one, now. He fixed that error.

Guilt is not what he came here for, it's just too easy to feel.

He refocuses and ignores Roier's report. Instead he looks for the other page, written by Philza several weeks later, once the man's hands were capable of writing again.

Skims it over, skims it over and breathes.

The report is short, as Philza's tend to be, and Roier had already covered most of the details. It, however, concerns the circumstances of Pac's injuries that day - caught in multiple explosions in quick succession, burns, shrapnel wounds, knocked out by the concussive force...

There's a note there, too, of how Mike had panicked. Panicked and started blind firing at anything that came close. He'd believed Pac dead, at first, needing coaxing to reach back along the bond and find him. Only then did he calm down long enough to allow Philza's Crow to approach, and stabalise Pac's wounds.

He clutches the paper, and names it hope - it says nothing good, it says so many terrible thing, but- but the soul bond /is/ fallible. In heightened emotional states, if someone is injured enough, it's possible to miss.

Even if they read Pac correctly - and now he thinks Pac never said Mike was gone, just the green vanished from the connection and Pac had called for him while sobbing - even if Pac can't feel Mike... It doesn't mean Mike's dead.

It's Forever's turn to drop to his knees in relief. He hates that it's relief - for Pac to have that reaction, for the soul bond to be missed, Mike must be horrifically wounded and is still held captive by an enemy that liquidises humans in a very literal way, for nobody knows what purpose - but it is. Because... Because he might not be too late. Mike might be /alive/.

He sobs, but they're not sad tears this time.

He hands the paper to Felps.

Felps, whose eyes also light up, and hands it to Cellbit.

Cellbit, who still downs the coffee but slams the mug into the table and says "do you think Pac has any idea where to look now?" already working on a new plan.

It's a good question. Pac was too out of it earlier, but maybe...

Forever's comm pings, and the timing is immaculate; it's Fit, saying Pac's properly awake and wants to speak to them.

It's followed by another message saying at least Fit thinks that's right, but Pac's struggling with English more than usual and his Portuguese isn't great.

"I'll go talk to him," Forever breathes out. "Do you-?"

"You two go," Felps takes the paper back from Cellbit, and puts everything back away. "I'll start asking around. Maybe Fred's people have something?"

They checked in yesterday and had nothing then, but the name of the game is hope, and contacting Fred's faction is always more complicated than the others. Maybe they'll have information from Pac once they manage to get a meeting.

---

Medical is the same as ever, if surprisingly quiet. It's been a while since their last full operation - Forever is certain that everything will go to hell soon, it always does - and nobody's managed to get shot on more covert activities of late. Pac's the only patient, curled up on a bed towards the back with Fit at his side and a nearby doctor keeping half an eye on him while she cleans.

"Pac!" Forever sweeps to his other side, taking one of his free hands. "Are you alright? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

Pac squeezes his hand, and offers a shaky, scared smile, "I'm good, I- Um... Fit?"

He glances at Fit, who tilts his head. After a second, the bomber works it out.

"Doc says he's just exhausted himself," Fit squeezes the hand of Pac's he's holding. "They're more trained on physical shit, but something about overtaxing himself psionically...?"

Cellbit's expression goes dark for a second. He storms over to Pac's side, pressing to fingers to the side of his head. Their eyes meet and Cellbit's eyes take on a slight red glow as he presses harder onto Pac's skin.

While Cellbit works Fit squeezes Pac's hand, and stands.

"I'll give you guys some privacy, let Tubbo know what's going on," he says.

Pac reaches for a hug; Fit gives it with only a little hesitation, whispering something in his ear before heading out. He gives Forever a wave, and it's returned, and then it's just a case of waiting for Cellbit to be satisfied.

Eventually, Cellbit pulls the fingers away, frowning as he does. "What happened, Pac? You're lucky - that's low enough to- fuck, Pac, you'll hurt yourself like this."

Pac doesn't even laugh nervously, his eyes just flicker to his hands.

"Mike reached for me," Pac says, clearly still badly drained. "I knew... I knew it would be bad, if he was reaching that far. We know it's too far to do safely..."

He trails off, and Forever tries to be gentle in his questioning.

"Is Mike okay?" he asks, because until he has that answer he doesn't know if he can breathe.

"Alive," Pac says, and both of the other Brazilians in the room relax; Cellbit starts texting Felps and maybe Roier as soon as that word is said. "He... He's hurt, though. Badly. I'm not sure what happened - physically - it was... We were entwined, we were trying to stay together, then suddenly he pulled back. Seconds later he grew very faint. He's not... Not gotten worse since, but..."

But it doesn't mean anything good, if the building tears mean anything.

"What happened?" Cellbit is the one to ask. "Mike isn't stupid, he wouldn't have risked it unless..."

"Cucurucho," Pac says, and the room goes dead silent.

Even the doctor freezes for a moment, before beginning to scrub even harder than before.

"Interrogation?" Cellbit asks, the only person they know to have been interrogated by one of the Federation's spokesmen.

Well, interrogated and have survived.

And he only lived, they think, because the cursed bear thought it was funnier that way.

Pac nods, shaking, "he... I don't know exactly? He threw /himself/ at me, I caught him and threw up a shield. I think... I think I covered everything important, but- but... not everything. There wasn't time. And the claws..." a particularly violent shudder. "I felt a little of the rest, as he pulled away. It's... Cucurucho must have read it, but it's all... fragmented? I... I don't-"

"You saved him," Cellbit cuts Pac off without a moment's hesitation. "Pac, listen to me? No matter what Cucurucho did or didn't take, Mike is alive because of /you/. Whatever happened? We can fix it. So long as he's alive when we get to him, we can fix it."

"I don't-" tears bubble out of Pac's eyes, and onto his cheeks. "He's so weak. He's there, he's still there, but..."

Forever shifts over to the bed, offering Pac a hug. It's quickly taken up, Pac folding against him.

"We'll find him," Forever promises, because if he's alive then they /can/. "Any information might help, but no matter what, we'll find him."

He's been saying that for months, now; he continues convincing himself it's true.

Pac shakes his head at first. Forever knows his friend - he gives it a second even as Cellbit's feet tap-tap on the floor.

The second pays off; Pac raises a hand, and points out in a direction, "he's that way. Not sure how far, but... Not this continent."

Forever sees Cellbit grab a compass - why he's carrying one he has no idea - setting it up and scribbling the direction on his hand.

It's something, it's so much more than they had.

"Thank you," Forever whispers to him. Holds him tight, doesn't know if Pac will ever understand how much he means to them - with Mike, yes, but even without him - and how wonderful he is. "Thank you, Pac. Rest, you did well; thank you, thank you so much."

There's no more promises that it'll be okay - they can't promise that, not here, not now, not like this. But it might be, it might be, it's possible.

The thread is fraying but it's not yet been cut; there's still a chance to pull it back in and weave in new strands.

All they can do is try.

[snowgoldwaylon]

And That's When You Came - Naga X Reader

So this is my first Naga x reader fic, I'm a bit nervous about it y'all. I hope you guys enjoy!

TW: Violence, kidnapping, murder, drugs, strong language.

This time around, druglords were swarming parts of the Jungles around the world. This sometimes made working with the CIA and Marines hard trying to tie up loose ends.

So, of course, you took a leadership role, and assembled a small, efficient team to head out to the Jungle, and clean up some of these businesses.

You had gotten word over enemy comms that there was a possibility of trafficking coming up, just a few days short of today. So you know today was the day to make the right move and head out.

You gathered the team up, and took off right there and then. You had to head Northeast until you reached the heart of the Jungle. The plan was to ambush whoever was doing this and make them lead your team right to the main compound.

After 4 hours of constant flying, your heli touched down a few clicks North of the potential location. You took out the evidence from the comm broadcast and looked around.

The druglords were smart around these areas. They communicated in code. Morse code, to be exact. Thankfully you could read and understand morse code like you could in your native language. Looks like some classes pay off!

You took a minute and looked over the past conversation between these unknown individuals. You read the morse code with ease, and quickly you understood what was said.

'TRIBAL VILLAGE, WEST OF THE RED STREAM. FOLLOW IT 5 CLICKS AND MAKE A SHARP LEFT BY THE SKULLS.'

You felt a sick, sinking feeling when it mentioned skulls. Now you knew that you were about to walk a thin line with danger, or possibly even death.

You looked back at your team who geard up. You turned your radio on and spoke to the one man you could trust.

"Lazar, I might not come back from this. If I don't, please send a search team. I'm about to broadcast you my current coordinates." You said calmly.

"Y/N, you will come back. I promise to come to save your ass myself." Lazar said.

"Appreciate that, I'll keep in touch. 2-3 out." And off your radio went.

You rounded your team up and stood upon a rock so they could hear you loud and clear.

"Okay Strike team, we are going in. You will follow me and my orders, we stay together at all times. This could potentially be a large threat, and I will not have any deaths today. Now, follow me. Keep an eye out for any potential harm. Form the formation we talked about. Always check those corners and look back!" You said, strapping your MP5 around you tightly.

You led your team off in the direction that the morse code told you about. You came to the red stream and decided to take a look around and see if you saw any possible movement or another break in the case.

You took your binoculars and scanned the area. In the distance, you saw a small, white building. It was covered by trees, well hidden if you didn't have good vision.

"Hey Houston, take a look over there, almost 3 and a half inches to the left. See the white building?" You said, handing the binoculars to your teammate.

Houston took them and looked, he turned back to you and nodded.

"I see it. Do you think we should go check it out?" He asked.

You thought for a moment. What if this was another building with possible evidence or even someone in there you could question? You looked back towards him and nodded.

"Yeah, I think we should. Let's get in there and at least check it out. It'll be worth it if we do I think." You reasoned.

He quickly gathered the team, and you made a slow but steady movement towards the building in question. There was no doubt you were nervous, you had a really bad feeling and you weren't sure why.

When you came up to the building, it was a garage. It had a large, retracting door and a small door for someone to walk into. But there was no house, just a garage.

"Okay Houston, we're gonna walk into this place very carefully, and slowly." You said.

After getting confirmation from everyone, you walked up to the small door. You carefully took the handle and twisted it. The door creaked open as if this was some sort of horror movie and the killer finds the person hiding.

You took a few steps in and checked all the corners. Your team followed behind and within minutes, the whole place had gotten a clean sweep. There was nobody to be found. So, you quickly gathered everyone in the middle.

"Okay, so this place is clear. What we are going to do next i-" You were cut off by a large bang.

BANG!

You drew your MP5 and took a protective stance. Suddenly, thats when a loud and frantic banging started to happen. What took you off guard was the cries for help that followed.

"PLEASE HELP, I'M DOWN HERE!" The male voice cried out.

You looked all over the room, and noticed a hatch to what looked like a cellar, the doors chained shut with heavy rocks on top.

"Commander, I don't like the feeling of this..." One of your team, Leon shuttered out.

"Cover me, we must save this man!" You said with no hesitation.

You ran over to the doors, and ripped the rock off with brute strength. You smashed the chains off with the butt of your gun, and yanked them off. You could now open the door.

"Houston, Leon, with me!" You commanded.

They stacked up behind you and took stance. You ripped the doors open, and out came a man fell out, wearing some sort of uniform. And behind him was a some of two dozen men, armed. You had been tricked.

"Commander!" Houston yelled, jumping in front of you as a bullet as shot. It ripped through his heart like a dagger. He fell to the ground, going limp.

"You fuckers!" You shouted.

You went to shoot, but a rock came flying and hit you right in the eye. You heard everyone else struggle and a few gunshots. When you came back from the hit, you were grabbed and restrained.

The man you first saw, immediately tied all your team up, but a couple of the guys had you in a hold, rather than tied up. You were so scared, for everyone. The first guy who came out grabbed his walkie and talked into it.

"Naga, this is Blade. I have their Commander. Waiting your order."

"Good, bring their Commander to me. Take the rest to the pit. We have work that needs done." The mysterious voice spoke over the radio.

"Got it."

When your team started to get taken away like cattle, you got pissed. You saw the bodies of a few crew mates and it made you almost get sick. Houston and Leon were dead, all because of you.

When you started to be dragged away, you began to kick and scream.

"Get off me you rat fucking bastards! I'll kill you all!" You shouted.

The men only chucked, and kept walking.

You were able to get an arm free and sucker punch one. The other, you kicked straight in the teeth, which made him double over. You took the opportunity and snapped his neck with ease.

The other man though quickly recovered and tackled you. You both fought for a minute until you somehow got on top, flipping him to his back. You restrained his arms with your leg and grabbed his face.

"I fucking told you, asshole. Now, join your friend." You said with anger. You quickly pulled his head back, killing him. You got off and took a rifle he wore.

You looked around and started to gather your surroundings. Now you were kind of confused. First thing first, you had to find your team. You ran back to the garage and went to the corpses of Houston and Leon.

"I'm so sorry you guys." You said, picking up their dog tags. This was the only way to identify them now.

You left and followed a blood trail to a nearby meadow. There, in the distance, you saw thick trees. You came up to a set of some, and in front of you was a 4-way split.

"Fuck! I'll be fucked if I go the wrong way...." But before you could even think, you felt a presence.

Like, somebody was watching you. You looked up into the trees, and that's when you saw a man wearing a strange cap, sunglasses, and a bandanna. He held a tube in his mouth.

Before you could run, he put air into it and shot out a dart at you of some sort. Luck was not with you today though.

It sucks right into your neck. And it felt like a rock had just dropped on you from a great height. You fell to your knees and collapsed. You tried to crawl, but the world went black around you.

The man jumped down from the trees and came over. He removed the dart and rolled you over to see your face. When he saw it was you, he picked you up and carried you towards his large camp.

"Finally got you."

Meanwhile, back at the safe house

Lazar came up to Adler and Sims.

"Doc, Y/N was supposed to come back 5 hours ago. I was even told if I don't hear anything, to come to find them." Lazar spoke with worry.

Adler almost brushed it off, until he heard your name.

"Wait, as in Y/N Y/L/N? Commander of Strike team?" He questioned.

"Yes, remember they went into the Jungle for the possible compound raid. I think something is wrong." He said.

Adler put out his cigarette and got up. He walked over to a plan made out by you. His eyes went large, and he immediately started to pack up and get ready.

"Lazar, you are right. There is a good chance they are in danger. We leave right now! Get everyone rounded up and locked and loaded." He commanded.

Lazar did as he was told, and got everything in line. The crew left within 5 minutes.

One day later, Y/N POV

You finally woke back up, but you were changed to a wall. Your clothes have scratches, and your head felt like a bobblehead. The room had a bright, uncomfortable light above the head. You looked around and saw so much drug paraphernalia.

You were about to pass out again until the door opened, and the same man from before stepped into the room. You both made eye contact, and you saw a slight smile behind his bandanna.

He came over to you and ran his hand over your face.

"Well, look who is finally awake. I thought you weren't going to ever wake back up, my precious little dandelion." He said in a creepy tone.

You revolted to his touch and tried to kick. But, you were held in place by the tough shackles.

"No no no, little one. You won't be leaving now. Do you know how long I waited for you? And here you fall right into my lap...." He trailed off.

You still kicked and screamed, until he finally walked away over to a projector.

"Oh Y/N, I've been watching you for months now. I knew you had been tracing people like me to raid their compounds. Well, I didn't want you fucking up my business." He said, pulling up the images on the projector.

You looked at them in horror when you realized they were of you, in many different states. You at your own home, on a date with Lazar, out with the safe house team for bowling and drinks, even you in the shower. The fucking shower!

You began to cry. You were very afraid.

The man only laughed upon seeing your tears and started playing audio logs of you calling your family on holidays.

"Don't cry, little one. I've always wanted you in my life." He spoke, slowly walking towards you. You began to panic, and started kicking and muffled screaming again.

When he reached you, he ran his hand up your side, and to your face.

"Don't worry. My name is Naga and I'm here to keep you forever. You are mine now, you know." He said.

He stepped back and turned on an older song. He kept the pictures up as he walked towards you with a knife. Your heart sank.

"Do you see this, honey? This is what you'll get when you misbehave. Understand?" He spat at you.

"I'm going to undo your gag. Don't do anything stupid." Naga said.

As soon as he did, he smiled.

"There. Now, why don't you tell me something with that gorgeous mouth?"

You looked right at him, and spit right into his eye. He jumped back in disgust. That pissed him off, and his gaze turned cold.

"You fucking bitch! You'll pay for that!"

But before he could even lunge, a man came from behind and wrestled him to the ground. That man was none other than Lawrence Sims.

You started to wiggle as you saw Lazar and everyone else behind him. He quickly ran over to you and got you free. Adler jumped in with Sims and restrained Naga. He put up one hell of a fight though.

You were carried away to the EVAC chopper, where Mason sat.

"Y/N!" Mason shouted, helping you get onboard.

You sat up and coughed. Your body hurt so much, you felt drained.

"Please Mason, clean up this cut on my leg. It's getting infected." You pleaded.

Immediately, he started to tend to every wound you had. It stung like hell but you were relieved it was over. Lazar sat with you and held your hand. You felt like you were in shellshock.

After about 10 minutes, everyone came back to the heli. Lazar didn't look happy.

"What the hell? Where is he??" He questioned.

Adler pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Sims just signed.

"He got away. The bastard is like a snake. Plus not to mention, he turned my balls into innies." Adler said with defeat.

You sat up and hugged the blanket tighter around you. You looked around at everyone as the heli flew off.

"Wait, what about my team? They still might be down there...."

Adler nodded at you.

"We sent in spec ops to recover survivors. But we are glad to see you back here safe."

You nodded with relief and lay back against the heli. You looked out over the dark skies and the now ominous trees below. You knew, deep down inside down there, this wasn't over.

Naga still roamed these trees. You looked down over the treetops and clenched your fist tight.

"I promise, this isn't over. I'll be back, even stronger."

[eiressofinspirationwrites]

Revelation

Din Djarin x Reader

TW: Some description of blood and significant injury to reader.

Description: When something goes wrong on a mission, you and Din are forced to stand and fight. Then, Din is forced to reconsider some things and makes a major revelation to you.

********************

When the body of the last Corellian pirate hit the ground, you and the Mandalorian were standing back to back. The two of you had assumed that position to cover each other's backs as you fought off the band of pirates. Din knew you could handle yourself in a fight so he'd focused on his half of the pirates. He'd curse himself later for not paying better attention to your fight.

For a few minutes the only sounds that could be heard was the labored breathing of you and the Mandalorian exhausted after your ordeal. Then your voice broke the silence.

"Din," You gasped.

The Mandalorian knew something was horribly wrong before he even turned around.

You never used his given name like that when you were out in the open. His name was something you reserved for quiet, tender moments in the Razor Crest.

When he turned you were already facing him but you were looking down. Your face was creased with confusion as you processed the blood painting your shirt and hands.

Your blood Din realized.

"I didn't even-" your sentence was cut off when your knees gave out as the adrenaline ebbed away.

Din shot forward faster than anyone should have been able to move in so much armor. His hands caught you before you hit the ground but the sudden stop elicited a small cry from your lips.

"I've got you, cyar'ika," Din gently promised as he eased you down.

He wasted no time tearing off his cape. He balled it up and placed it underneath your head to cushion it against the forest floor.

"Din," your voice cracked, "I'm scared."

Din did his best to mask his own fear to keep you calm but truth be told he was terrified. You'd never been hurt on his watch like this before.

"Everything is going to be okay," he promised as stoically as he could manage.

"I'm sor-" you were cut off by the shout of pain that Din elicited from you as he applied pressure to your wound.

"I know it hurts," Din empathized, "but we have to slow the bleeding. All of our medical supplies are back at the ship."

"Din," you whimpered, after he used his comm to contact Cara for help, "I don't think I'm going to make it. There's too much blood."

"Don't say that," Din growled, but under the helmet there were tears starting to form and he was thankful his helmet was there to hide them, "You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you weren't and..."

"I love you, too, Din," your hand shook as you reached up underneath the helmet to press your palm against his cheek.

"Don't-" he pled, as he leaned into your touch, "Don't you dare say goodbye."

"I'm sorry," you apologized through your own tears, "I'm so sorry."

"You've got nothing to apologizs for, cyar'ika," Din assured you, "but I need you to hold on just a bit longer, okay? Cara will be here any second and she will be able to help us fix this."

"Din," your voice cracked and your breathing continued to shallow, "I'm going to die."

"No. No, you're not," Din ordered, "You are going to be fine."

"Take care of the kid," You said, "Most importantly take care of yourself too. Promise me."

"Please, stop," this time it was Din's turn for his voice to crack, "You're going to be okay and we are going to take care of the kid together."

"Promise me," your voice became sharper for just a moment, "Please."

Din could see it in your eyes, you were truly terrified. He had never seen you so scared in all the time he'd known you.

So, he took a steadying breath and said, "I promise. We'll be okay."

Relief visibly washed over you, "I love you so much, Din."

You started to say something else but it was like a switch was flipped. Your body just seemed to give up. The last thing you heard as your eyes slid shut was Din calling your name. Desperately trying to keep you with him as everything grew dark.

********************

It was dim when you opened your eyes. At first you thought you were in some kind of afterlife but then you realized that you were in fact in a bed and someone was in the chair beside that bed. They were obviously asleep by the way their chin was tucked against their chest.

It took you several more moments before you registered who it had to be sleeping in that chair. Despite the dim lighting in the room, you easily recognized the silhouette of Din's armor but something was off. Literally.

In the next moment you realized that Din's helmet had been removed and was sitting on the bedside table.

You let out an involuntary gasp that jarred Din awake.

"What's wrong?" He asked with intense concern as he sat forward.

"Y-your helmet," you had already screwed your eyes shut, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to look. I didn't realize when I woke up."

You heard Din let out a soft chuckle, "Cyar'ika, it's okay."

"Your creed-," you started to protest but Din cut you off.

"Some things are more important," his voice was soft as he took your hand in his and squeezed it gently after pressing a kiss to it, "This whole thing made me realize how little time we have and that time can be taken away at any moment. I don't want to end up in a situation like that again and have one of us die without me being able to share all of myself with you. You've already given all of yourself to me. Let me give all of myself to you, cyar'ika. So, please open your eyes for me."

You took a breath before you opened your eyes as Din had asked but it didn't do much good since seeing your beloved's face for the first time took it away in a heartbeat.

You'd dreamed about this moment for so long but had truthfully never expected it to come. Now that it was, you were so totally overwhelmed that you started to cry.

"What's wrong?" You could hear the panic in Din's voice and could tell this wasn't how he expected this to go.

"I'm sorry, my love," you apologized, "I've just dreamed of this for so long and you're just even more perfect than I imagined."

"I could never measure up to you, mesh'la," a small smile graced his lips as Din shook his head lightly.

"We'll just have to agree to disagree," you smiled and then laughed a bit.

"What?" Din asked.

"Karga owes me 100 credits," you smirked.

"Do I even want to know for what?" Din sighed.

"He thought your eyes would be green," you explained, "I just knew they had to be brown and I was right."

Din shook his head but he was smiling anyway, "You're impossible."

"That's why you love me," you laughed.

"One of the many reasons I love you," he said before he leaned in for a tender kiss.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Alex relives the old days as he single-handedly embarks on a mission to help local German Militia regain their village from the hands of Augustus. But he seemed a little distracted. I wonder why.

Previous Chapter : Roach - A Walk to Remember

Chapter 7 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"Just Like Old Times"

"Alex"

Task Force 141

1 km East of A Local Militia Settlement, Germany

"Guten Morgen. Hallo." Alex muttered as the plane slowly descended toward his drop off area. He was readying his accent for the negotiation. A few more walks and he'll be on potential enemy territory or ally territory, depending how well he seals the deal. For the whole duration of the flight, he cleared his head on Samantha, how she has no clue about him, and focused on his new task. He was confident he'd get this one right, as this was his playing field. The CIA days were almost nostalgic as he plopped his metal foot on the ground and signaled the chopper goodbye.

Leading small armies to help create forces to counter terrorism. That was his role in the Special Activities Division of the CIA. He was Kate Laswell's favorite when it comes to these kinds of activities and he's confident enough that he could convince them to fight.

The walk was long and quiet, no one was around, most of Alex's trails were just forest upon forest upon forest. He started heading to the sound of the water, and immediately spotted four men, armed and possibly his ticket inside the settlement. Taking a deep breath he emerged from the forest and greeted the gentlemen.

"Hello. Does anyone here know anyone named Blitz?" Alex asked in fluent german. The four of them pointed their guns directly at him and he quickly dropped his bag and raised his hands showing surrender.

"No no. I'm here to help." He kicked the bag as it started to pour out heavy grenadier weapons and bullets. One of them grabbed a radio and called the base.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Call me Alex." he replied with a grin. The next thing he knew is that he was being tied and escorted to the village. He didn't mind, it's always normal for them to be cautious, especially when facing an unknown person.

They trod the dense forestry until they got to a small settlement buzzing with activity.

Alex found himself seated on a small wooden table, his bag of weapons in front of him while Blitz slowly stepped out of the shadows. Blitz was the leader of the said settlement. He has a pale white skin and almost bald hair, his brethren surrounded him, guns pointed at Alex.

"What brings you to this little town, Alex?" he asked. 

"Augustus." he replied confidently, all the other brothers whispered with each other.

"Shhh!" he silenced the group. "What about him?"

"I want answers from him and I need your help." 

~

Alex took a sip of their popular soup recipe, they were all gathered by the campfire outside but Blitz wanted to talk to him in private.

"Augustus, has done a lot of bad things in our village. He has slaughtered our animals, stolen some of our men and worst of all, he took away our village." he frowned.

"My wife and kids, they are still there… He's using them as shields so your heavy weapons have no use to win them back." he pushed the bag back to him.

"I still have friends who can help. If you're willing to lend us your strength." Blitz looked concerned at Alex's eagerness.

"Tell me, why do you want this Augustus man so bad?" he asked, his eyes reflected the little burn they had on their campfire.

"He's our only hope to save a lot of people," he replied.

"Good. Join us later for our plans. If we are able to evacuate my people, we can have time to play with your toys." he smiled and Alex nodded. Tomorrow, the 141 is going to have Augustus for interrogation.

~

"Don't get your hopes too high, Alex. I don't want to live waiting for uncertainty. I'm done with that." Samantha's words hit him like a brick. Alex peeked at the scope and took a general sweep of the view looking for possible hostiles. It's been months since they last met and if she's true to her word and lives a normal life, she must have someone else looking for her right now, someone else she currently loves and he just had to suck it up when his suspicions were to be true.

He had his chance to tell her everything back at the infirmary but seeing her smile like that made him hesitate. Bringing back memories of him would just cause him pain, like what Maxine felt when she heard her name. And he didn't want her hurt, he just wanted her back.

He started to crumple her letter as he fished it from his pocket. It was inside the ziploc he had to protect from the rain, but now he just wanted to forget. He had been hurt many times in the past days that he couldn't handle facing her anymore. The feeling that he isn't reciprocated the way he expected was pushing him down.

'Don't you dare forget about me.' he sighed. 

He wished it would be the same as last time. She rejected him at first but convinced herself to give him a chance the next day, but even with Maxine badgering her about him, it didn't seem to work.

"There they go Alex. The 6 am supply drop." Blitz whispered over comms. The plan was easy: Augustus supplies a lot of boxes to the base. They contain food and weapons stolen from farms or delivered to them from their higher leaders. This is the opening where most of their forces carry boxes, Anja, Blitz's wife, would lead all their members to a small tunnel they built in cases of invasion. Once everyone is out and accounted for, we will barge in and surround them, taking back what's rightfully theirs.

It's also important that most forces will focus on the northern ridge as that was the place where they came from before they invaded, and Blitz believes that a bigger base is situated there. Alex quickly relays this intel to the Task Force and reconnaissance has since begun.

"Ready, Alex?" Blitz asked one last time, holding their guns.

"Let's go." he said as they slowly creeped towards the entrance.

Alex's fingers gently felt the trigger through his gloves, he was alone with new found friends and he's not going to let Augustus slide past his hands. This has to end now. For Samantha.

For Samantha, who doesn't recognize him anymore, those days in Brazil were Alex's best days as a normal person. He got to experience living full of love for a while and he got into it. He liked the idea.

One huge explosion on an open area inside the settlement. They were smart, they're reclaiming the base so they didn't destroy anything in there. They just set out a warning.

"Alex! These weapons are top-notch!" One of the soldiers he's with roared, dashing across the field and started firing rounds. 

Alex quickly covered himself by an empty barrel, peeking with his sights and firing at the tangos who were defending, slowly pressing themselves inward onto the base.

"Brothers! Let's take back what's rightfully ours!" Blitz yelled in their language, followed by a collective "Ja!" from the men.

Enemies scattered, those with weapons slung on their shoulders immediately retaliated while some of them retreated far back into the village. Alex took note of this and shot runners when he could.

"Brothers, they're going to reinforce themselves with weapons!" Blitz yelled, commanding the rest of the forces to flank, putting pressure on the back exit where most of them could retreat.

"Alex, come with me. Let's get Augustus." The leader commanded and Alex nodded, fighting their way inside the central tent. It was heavily guarded and the duo cautiously made their way in shooting hostiles one barrage of bullets at a time. By the time they made it in a huge chunk of metal caught their attention, it had some sort of satellite components and it hummed dangerously.

Alex and Blitz successfully entered the base but it was Augustus-less, more bad news were reported as their weapons cache was already empty.

"Scheisse!!" Blitz cursed loudly as the village fell quiet. They had won their fight back, but at what cost? Alex consoled the leader and turned to the machine which hummed louder.

"We gotta get out of here!" he yelled, escorting Blitz to the door. But it was too late, the machine whirred and released some sort of small scale EMP blast, forcing their comms to ring in static followed by a loud side effect of ear ringing and minor dizziness.

Alex felt himself drop on the floor, trying his hardest to remove his earpiece. The feeling was mind bending, the ringing didn't stop and it felt piercing straight to the brain, unlike standard military EMP grenades, these lasted longer and rang louder. Whatever this contraption was, he needed it to be destroyed.

With the last of his strength, Alex covered his already bleeding ears and dragged Blitz outside the tent, threw a grenade and hid to safety. It was a slow and steady action but as soon as the machine blasted into pieces, the ringing stopped and everyone started to recover.

The group slowly recovered and got up. Some of Blitz's men began puking as their minds were assaulted by the big machine. If this is one of Nero's big plans, then the team must prepare. Alex still pondered how these blasts weren't familiar on his previous mission and how they could potentially tie to the missing person cases that continued to spread across America.

Alex was afraid of what this thing is capable of and he must report this immediately to the rest of the squad, who he thinks is making their way inside Augustus' base just beyond the mountains behind them.

Next Chapter : Experiment 001

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NOTIFICATION SQUAD, MY BELOVED

[sunaddicted]

Everything They Said (Superwonderbat)

I'm working on the prompts, no worries! For now, if you're in the mood for some Trinity light angst, here you go.

***

Bruce was perfectly aware of the fact that, more often than not, he was the cause of his own pain: between his obsession with the Mission and his own personal issues, it was frighteningly easy for him to sabotage his own happiness - sometimes intentionally and sometimes completely unaware of what he was doing.

Still, Bruce blamed no-one else but himself, which meant that he tended to bury whatever pain and disappointment he felt deep in the dark and dusky corners of his heart, moving on without wasting time on crying over spilled milk.

He was practical like that, even when it came to his feelings.

So, whenever Clark and Diana brazenly declared their love for one another in front of him or within earshot, Bruce reminded himself that he had no business being angry and hurt about it: he was the one who constantly grouched about how unprofessional it was of them to get entangled together in such a way when the fate of the Earth hinged upon their friendship and cooperation; he was the one who left the bed warmed by their superhuman bodies whenever the afterglow faded, as if he was left completely untouched by their affection; he was the one who turned down dates, whether they be at ice cream parlors in their civilian personas or sharing cake in the breakroom at the Watchtower, their costumes only half-donned on.

For all intents and purposes, Bruce's behaviour broadcast the message that he was in it only for the glorious sex and the stress-relief it brought - certainly not for the romance that Clark and Diana had thrown themselves in with an ease that Bruce had never felt about anything in his whole life.

Not even loving his children had been easy.

Not that it was the kind of thing Bruce paraded around, ashamed as he was of how emotionally stunted he could be.

How damaged .

Bruce sighed, fingers rising to his temples to massage them; the pressure didn't bring h9m as much relief as it could have if only he had shucked the cowl for monitor duty - but that would have entailed baring himself when he was in pain and feeling vulnerable. Not that Clark or Diana or literally any other of their teammates would have been able to see past the scowl on his face, chalking it up to one of his infamous foul moods.

"Coffee?"

Bruce raised his head, ignoring how the movement sent a stab of pain through his brain, to settle behind his eyes in a way that made Bruce fear that nothing less than a hefty dose of painkillers and a good night of sleep could take care of - he couldn't afford either: he didn't particularly like taking heavy-duty painkillers and a full night of sleep was just impossible to indulge in when he had Gotham to take care of.

The coffee would have to do.

"Please"

"I'll text Diana" Clark hummed, fingers literally flying over the screen of his phone while he sat on the chair that had been momentarily vacated by Bruce's monitor duty partner "Where is Barry?"

"Emergency in Central City - just Capitan Cold, he could handle it on his own"

The harsh edge to Bruce's voice would have made Clark shake his head with a mix of hilarity and annoyance, if he hadn't known better: Bruce always sounded harsher when he was on the defensive, as if he had expected to be scolded for letting Flash handle on his own one of his Rogues - a human one at that - and on his very own turf "How is it going?" Clark inquired, nodding towards the comms Bruce had abandoned on the table.

"They're on their way to Iron Heights" Bruce brought up one of the cameras that was following the police cruiser in which Flash had stuffed himself and Snart both - he couldn't really blame Barry for wasting time in such a way, rather than speeding them both to Iron Heights: that afternoon had been dragging, inexorably slow.

Even Bruce was itching for the shift to be over.

Clark smirked "The flirting was starting to get embarrassing, wasn't it?"

(Continues on ao3)

[flipfriddle]

A Piece of the Puzzle: Part 1

The following is a short story I wrote that was originally intended to be an intro to a new edition of a pen and paper RPG that I owned, Battlelords of the 23rd Century. It was never published after we licensed the game world to someone else so the new edition would actually get done.

Instead of letting it hide in the shadows of my iMac, I am now going to release it to the world in four parts. Part 1 is below. The story makes some assumptions that you know some of the games terminology and species but I think you'll be able to handle that little point of ambiguity. Feel free to comment as I'm interested in feedback. "Stick to drawing you nerd," has already been said so please be more creative. Thank you.

Part 1

“What the fuck is that?” screamed the human over the comms.

“RUN!” shouted Bofft.

Devik was already moving; he had seen the same thing the human had seen but was too startled to shout a warning. He paused long enough to retrieve the smooth slab of his body computer from the bluish toadstool-like plant where he had set it down earlier.

The thing lumbering towards them was big. It looked mad, too, thought Devik, which seemed odd to him since he couldn’t tell which end of it was its face. A gurgling roar erupted from the beast, confirming that Devik didn’t really care to find out.

“RUN, DAMN YOU!” shouted Bofft for the second time. His voice was somewhat muffled as he doubled over in an attempt to scoop up Valesh, who was seemingly rooted to the spot in terror, still clutching the pearlescent orb they had discovered not an hour before.

That noob Valesh isn’t going to make it through one job, thought Devik, as he watched Bofft’s immense arms envelope the tiny Mutzachan and pull him onto his shoulders before taking off in the direction of their ship.

Being picked up by his huge comrade seemed to snap Valesh out of his trance, and he struggled with one hand to grab hold of anything on his rescuer’s armor so he could hang on while desperately clutching their prize. Devik quickly lost sight of the Python Lizard’s armored form as he dove into the dense undergrowth.

A “whump” from a pulse cannon erupted next to Devik. Dorik-i-dan had reacted quickly and was already blasting away at the creature. Devik didn’t need to look, however, to know that the plasma bolts from his weapon weren’t effective; the Eridani’s stream of curses told him as much.

I’ll give the human credit, Devik thought as he crashed through some low, blue-edged leafy plants, creating tiny explosions of bluish-green pollen that seemed to emanate from everything on this planet. “Ibrahim certainly is fast when he wants to be.”

Ibrahim’s long and lean body was pulling ahead of the rest of them. The gear strapped loosely to his light armor was flapping and swinging all over the place, collecting pieces of local foliage as they got caught in the various buckles and straps. Over the team comms everyone could hear him shouting at their pilot. “Trannis! Get the ship hot! Everything went to shit!”

A chuckle came before the reply, “I know already, you dumb fibbets. I’ve been monitoring your helmet cams.” Clicks of switches being hit and the dull whine of their ship’s engines could be heard in the background of his transmission. “I will be there shortly. Out.”

Ibrahim skidded to a halt next to a large rock formation, turned, and raised his left arm in the direction of their pursuer. A loud pop came from the engineering tech’s armored forearm, followed by a streak of flame and smoke as an arm-rocket flew toward the creature.

Devik’s curiosity overcame his fear, and he turned to see the rocket’s effect.

Or lack of effect.

The creature was tough. The explosive warhead seemed to splash off some sort of carapace, barely slowing the thing. Devik got a better look at it as it paused, startled by the explosion.

It reminded him of a Petari Beetle but on a much grander scale. Mottled brown and green in color and supported by four stout legs, it had two long grasping arms at the front that were waving back and forth, each snapping at the air around it with three long fingers. Devik caught a whiff of a sweet smell through his helmet filters, but he couldn’t tell if the scent emanated from the creature or from all the torn up foliage that lay in its wake. He dared not turn up the filters’ sensitivity, or he’d let more of the ubiquitous pollen in. Another sneezing fit might get him eaten this time, he mused. He still couldn’t see a head or a face. Maybe it was underneath?

“Crap,” came Ibrahim’s sigh over the helmet comms. “I only had one, but I don’t think a whole rack would have done any better. Trannis! Where the hell are you?”

“Fool. Let the warriors do their work,” Dorik-i-dan grunted as he slid to a halt about four meters from Devik and turned to face their pursuer.

The beetle-like behemoth shuffled forward, appearing a bit more wary of its prey than before.

“Dorik, head to the ship,” rumbled Bofft. You could hear the menace in the Python Lizard’s voice.

“It is merely a lesser form of life, sir,” replied Dorik. “No Eridani would cower from such a foe.” The last part of his reply was drowned out by a withering blast from his pulse cannon.

Dorik leaned forward as he fired, digging in his back foot to compensate for the large weapon’s recoil. The bright orange light bathed the surrounding area as Devik’s helmet filters darkened to compensate for the blasts.

A quick glance through some now burning native plants and fleeing critters told Devik that this latest volley was just as fruitless as the first.

The Eridani threw down his ineffective pulse cannon and drew his sword. As soon as it left its sheath, Dorik-i-dan activated the plasma edge of the blade, and it began to glow a dull orange with the occasional puff of acrid smoke as the super-heated edge touched an insect or bit of pollen in the humid air. With his empty hand, Dorik yanked the cable from the power pack on his back that connected it to the smoking pulse cannon lying on the ground next to him.

He raised his sword to an attack stance and darted toward their assailant.

“DORIK!”

“Inferior whelp! Taste the wrath of Eri-” Dorik shouted before being sickeningly muted with a loud pop and cracking sound as a heretofore unseen tail with a large bony end swung around and smacked the Eridani aside.

Dorik-i-dan crashed into a tall plant, causing an immense explosion of pollen, practically painting the Eridani in a sickly shade of green. He landed in a tangled heap at the base of the broken plant, almost buried in leaves and shattered stem. It was clear from their unnatural angles that Dorik’s sword arm and right leg were quite broken at the very least; more likely, the crushed armor was the only thing holding them together.

He was clearly unconscious as well. His med-stat reading in the team’s helmet HUDs had just turned to a flashing blue.

“Idiot. More garbage I have to pick up,” grumbled Bofft.

With the beast momentarily distracted, curiously poking with one grasping arm at the Eridani’s plasma sword smoldering at its feet, Bofft trotted back to the Eridani’s crumpled form, grabbed the remaining intact leg, and turned back toward the ship. The added weight didn’t seem to slow him down a bit. The whole team heard a gurgled whimper from Bofft’s other passenger, Valesh, when the hulking lizard began to pick up speed.

Devik grinned as he ran because he could tell that the normally fastidious and ordered Bofft was being none too careful about keeping the Eridani he was dragging from getting more injured. Everyone knew Dorik had an auto cryogenic-injector in his suit anyway, and Bofft was off the hook with the company since Dorik had disobeyed his orders.

Also, Devik was beginning to realize that even carrying two others, Bofft was pulling ahead of him, and now he was the closest to being lunch.

“Hurry up, you cursed brain tangler,” mumbled Devik.

He had barely uttered the phrase when the heat of a plasma blast ripped over his head, exploding not far behind him. He could feel chunks of earth and vegetation pelting off the back of his armor, and flora flamed around him. His helmet optics were slowly coming back to normal after blacking out to save his eyes from the flash.

“I heard you,” sang Trannis with false cheer.

“Hehe. You know I said it with love, you old thought-merchant!” Devik offered his longtime shipmate, with barely disguised relief. Trannis replied with some slopping sounds, which Devik knew were Chatilian kisses.

Up ahead, their ship, the Unbreakable III, was hovering on its a-grav units with its forward turret tracking their pursuer to their right. Devik chanced a look in that direction and saw that the hulking predator was moving more slowly with a still-smoldering divot in its carapace. Perhaps it was thinking this meal wasn’t worth the trouble.

A Chatilian behind the forward, low-slung cockpit glass waved to Devik. Only someone accustomed to Chatlilians would recognize the look of amusement on the pilot’s long, thin face. Someone like Devik. The tall, narrow head covered in large bumps with a silly looking tuque sitting on top at a jaunty angle turned away and continued scanning his instruments. Hmm, from this angle maybe their heads do look like asparagus, thought Devik. The Humans might be on to something. It might be time to finally try eating some.

The Unbreakable’s central main loading ramp began descending, letting the bright lights from the interior bathe the returning team in white light. Ibrahim had leapt onto the ramp before it descended fully.

Devik puffed up to the loading ramp, the last to do so. Steam and air blasts from the ship’s decontamination units were already puffing onto the ramp and the hold’s new occupants. As soon as Devik set foot on the ramp, the last to do so, Trannis began to gain altitude and cycle the ramp closed. As he looked up Ibrahim was nowhere to be seen, while Devik could just see Dorik’s form ahead of him still being dragged by Bofft. Yuck; Dorik had started to leak, too. Eridani blood was all over the ramp, and just then Dorik’s med-stat light went solid blue.

“Oh well. At least the deep-freeze will keep the rest of this trip Eridani free,” Devik mumbled.

Devik slumped down to the hard plasmetal deck and pulled his helmet off, sucking in the cool, familiar air of the Unbreakable. I hate wearing this crap, he thought as he sprayed some water on his face from the nearby wall dispenser. And I need to get in better shape or stay in the ship with Trannis.

Just then another sneezing fit wracked his body, nearly paralyzing him.

Devik looked down to see a fine bluish-green powder scattered over his armor and gear and the deck around him by this latest round of allergic convulsions. Mucus ran from his nose and dripped onto his chest armor. Why the hell did they need an exolinguist on the crew when all we’re doing is picking up garbage, Devik thought as he tried to catch his breath.

“Okay, Valesh,” Devik said, unbuckling his leg armor as he rose to his feet. A puff of decontamination spray hit him square in the face. “Let’s see what you found.”

Stay tuned for Part 2 next week!

[overcaffeinated-creative]

⚰️⚰️ for Jai and Harti because I'm terrible :D

Send ⚰️ for a glimpse of my muse’s funeral

Summary: Jai Vetra’s Death and Funeral as told between himself and his granddaughter.

Rating: T

Warnings: Character Death

Characters: Jai Vetra, Solus Vetra, Harti Wren, Iviin Shysa, Kal Skirata, Vhonte Tervho, Fenn Rau, Ahsoka Tano

Notes: The changes are clearly marked between paragraphs with a back and fourth between Jai and then a snippet of Solus and a Conversation.

(I promise I’ll get to Harti’s soon but I’ve been writing this since like 7 AM and it went on so much longer than expected. It’s 1505 words in an experimental style.)

“Havea drink with me for you ba’buir,” Iviin Shysa suggested whileshoving the bottle into her hands. Old, almost bruised eyes glancedup at him from beneath a white buzz cut. The past week had beencruel. “We’ll celebrate his memory and his name.”

Solusdrank deep before handing the bottle back. “Thank you, ‘Alor.”

Hetook a seat on the bench next to her, knees bumping together. “Nothanks needed. We’re going to handle this as best we can.”

–

JaiVetra would not receive a traditional Mandalorian funeral. What wasleft of Clan Vetra, as well as his followers and friends, would nothave the chance to mourn him together. There would be no gathering inthe early dawn hours to prepare his body for cremation. Solus wouldnot receive his full set of armor to forge into her own nor even apiece of it. As the sunset they would not scatter his ashes thencelebrate his life. There would be no crowd to share food and drinkas music played and stories flowed. Not even a battlefield funeralwould happen in his honor.

–

“Hehated Kamino,” Kal Skirata told her over a comm call at Krownest’smorning. Her sluggish mind supplied it was closer to evening or nighton Mandalore. “Swore the entire planet conspired against him havinga break. They’d beat his door down at the crack of dawn for what heclassified as strill shit.” His tone took a humorous turn, “Whichseemed to be anything less than the end of the Galaxy before his twocups of caf. After those cups it became whatever should’ve beensent to Jango first.”

Theirphone call ran for over an hour much to Solus’ delight. Kal hadnumerous stories to tell about his time with Jai in Cuy’val Dar.Funny quips delivered in passing all the way to her ba’buir’sability to weaponize the chain of command like a true bureaucrat.However, the surreal feeling still nagged at her mind. She only foundout he had been alive all of that time after he died.

Kal’sface shifted when he caught something off in her expression. “Don’tlook so down, Ad’ika. He loved you more than anything in thisGalaxy and so was proud of you. Make sure you always remember that.He did everything for you.”

–

JaiVetra perished a month after the issuing of Order 66 during theUprising of Tipoca City. It went against all expected outcomes. Forhis entire life, he had been known as a survivor. No matter thetrauma inflicted or the impossibility of the odds he survived. It wasjoked he was part Corellian because of it. After Galidraan, everyoneaccepted Death would have to take him  of old age while passed outdrunk. There would be no other way to have a fighting chance. Yet, asKorda Six showed the mortality of Jaster Mereel and Geonosis that ofJango Fett; Kamino became his proof of only being human.

–

“Hewas the architect behind our escape,” Vhonte Tervho whispered inthe late hours of the evening. They sat back to back before the fireplace in the large dining room. Solus could not recall how they endedup that way. “The Empire had the longnecks lock everything down.I’ve never felt so cornered in my life. Neither had the others andit was making us all antsy. Except for Jai. He was just as unshakableas always. Told us to keep doing our jobs and trust him.”

“Ba’buirwas always good at that.” Solus felt tears start to drip down hercheeks. “He did the same thing during the Clan Wars. If someonestarted panicking he’d talk ‘em through it.”

“Then,a couple of nights ago he showed up with this plan. I was part of itand I don’t know how it worked.” Her voice wavered. “All of usthat got out, from the other Mandos to the child clones, owe himeverything.”

–

JaiVetra had never been taken with starfighters but he died in one. Athis absolute prime, he was still incapable of the preternaturalmaneuvers Harti executed. There was never any jealous there, onlylove and awe and respect. Secondhand stories (and in one instance themost terrifying holofootage of the past ten years) told him Soluspossessed the same skills; maybe more so. Yet, he still elected topilot a starfighter for their escape. Transports would need theirbest pilots to protect their precious cargo. For this flight he couldstand guard over their six or clear the way.

–

“TheOld Man was something else,” Fenn Rau told her looking almostsomber. Part of her was still reeling from his surprise visit to theVetra Stronghold. Concord Dawn, and by extension the JourneymenProtector’s, were iffy about the burgeoning True Mandalorians. “Hewas always full of surprise and one of the better ver’alor I’vemet.”

Hersmile came across weak while she muttered, “He hated being calledthat.”

“Ihated being called vaar’ika and that never stopped him.” For amoment, she saw the brazen, defiant man she came to know as Fenn Rauinstead of this somber ghost.

“Takeit as a compliment,” she tried to tease with a limp twitch todrooping ears. “It’s what he used to call Har’ba’buir andmyself. All of his favorite people are small, spitfire pilots.”

“Isee a lot of him you.” Lavender flooded Solus’ face. “Both ofyou are white haired, pains in my ass who could rally anyone foranything.”

–

JaiVetra had been assured he would never die alone but that was exactlyhow he went at age 66. A failed evasion resulted in engine damagethat sent him into an uncontrolled glide to a landing platform.Skittering across the metal he finally slowed to a halt flippedupside down. There was nothing to see past the transparisteel canopy.All he could hear was the muffled firefight outside over his ownrapid heartbeat. Something began to pool around his broken body. Atfirst, he thought it was rain but with cool sensation throughout itcould have been blood as well. Nothing would matter thought becauseit would all be over too soon.

–

“Ja’ikasaid he survived by looking for the light,” Harti mused more tohimself than his granddaughter walking beside him. “He said that nomatter how dark it seemed there would always be a light. He had tostumble for it a few times, maybe even missed the cue , but it wasthere in the end.”

“Itdoesn’t hurt less.” Her shoulders started shaking while sheworked hard to keep pace. “It doesn’t make anything hurt less.”

Hestopped in the center of the hallway to draw her into a warm hug.“Sol’ika,” her murmured into her hair, “now is the mostimportant time to look for the light. We’ve lost so many people,both Mandalorian and not, and we will lose more. But, look at thoseJai and the others saved with their sacrifices. Think of the livesyou and your friends saved. There’s a way out even if we have tolight it ourselves.”

–

JaiVetra died alone as an invader in a foreign land according to therecords. What was not included was the sort of funeral he stillreceived. The last of his strength was used to start his favoriteaudio clip; “I love you, Ba’buir!” singsonged from a tiny voicewith Harti’s warm laugh echoed in the background. Baptized in fuel,a stray spark turned the entire starfighter into a shining inferno.But, beyond that there was those who would carry his name forward.

–

“Wouldit be okay if I learned to say Remembrance with you?” Ahsoka asked,sounding almost unsure. They were curled around each other in bed.Solus’ head resting on her shoulder with a leg flung over her body.Ahsoka’s near arm curled beneath Solus while the other rested onher hip, thumb absentmindedly tracing the curve of the bone. “Iknow it’s something really important to you.”

Blinkingseveral times, Solus tried to study Ahsoka’s face in the dark. Atbest, she gathered bright eyes were staring at the ceiling. “Ofcourse. I’ll teach you when we wake up.” Squinting she tried tomake out if the blue chevrons of the closest lek had darkened any.“Any reason why?”

“Itsounds dumb…because I didn’t know your grandfather at all. But, Iwant to help you remember him.” Her voice grew higher in pitch.“Since we’ve known each other you’ve always said it. Becausepeople live on through their names being remembered right? Or, thatwas how you explained it two years ago.” Shifting their bodiesAhsoka settled only when she could look squarely into Solus’ eyes.“And I’ve heard you say Skyguy’s name too. It’s somethingyou’re doing for me and I just…I just wanted to do the same foryou. That way there’s two people remembering their names.”

Ba’buirwas right about finding the light.