#this is brought to you by me still scrambling to finish my last comm and it suddenly hits me that it's November

[alienturnip]

Lunar New Year is coming again (I know I know it's too soon and everything but the months fly by so quickly) and I won't be home this year...... anguishh 😭

[skymaiden32]

Toxicity

AO3 link here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or post new stories.)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Consider this a late birthday present for our boy Virgil! ^^

------

Virgil smiled gently at Kyrano, who gave him a respectful nod when he saw him coming. But there was also something else there. The manservant’s desperation to get what he wanted to say off his chest was palpable, and who was Virgil to keep him waiting?

“So…” Virgil started. “What did you want to tell me?” Kyrano gave him a fearful look. “Kyrano?” He prompted.

“We…” Kyrano began. “We are in grave danger on this island, Virgil…”

Virgil froze. “What do you mean? Surely, we’re safer here than anywhere else…” Despite the conviction he pushed into them, he wasn’t sure he believed his own words.

“I feel my brother's influence here, stronger than ever before…” Kyrano frowned. “Even if he is not here, one of his people is…”

That was the only warning Virgil got before Kyrano was hit in the back of the head with something particularly heavy, dropping to the floor. Virgil’s medic training immediately kicked in, and he scrambled to carefully pick the man up and run toward relative safety, swiftly motioning for Tin-Tin to follow as he passed her in the hallway. Noticing the frantic look on his face, and Kyrano in a bad way in his arms, she was more than happy to oblige, furious at whoever would want to hurt her kind-hearted father.

All the while as they ran to the medbay, the safest place Virgil could think of, their pursuer was hot on their heels. Virgil frowned as he almost fell through the doorway, passing Kyrano off to his daughter when she made it through and locked the door behind her. The intruder pounded on the door, yelling profanities at the people who had locked themselves inside. Thick and made of Cahelium, the door was built to withstand any attack thrown at it. They were safe in here. For now…

“What are we going to do, Virgil?” Tin-Tin was already doing her best to clean Kyrano’s headwound, and Virgil grabbed a roll of bandages to get started on wrapping it up.

“We’ll think of something, Tin.” Virgil finished bandaging up Kyrano’s head, hoping that he would wake up soon. “We’ve got to…”

Alan had never flown home so fast in his life. The second Jeff had been cleared to leave the hospital and go home, they’d all booked it out. While waiting for his father's discharge, he’d come to a chilling realisation. Virgil and the Kyrano’s were the only ones on the Island right now. With everyone distracted, it would be all too easy for the Hood to hit them where it hurt, a concern he’d long since made clear to the family he had with him. The thought somehow scared him more than everything else that was going on.

“Breath, Alan…” His father’s voice from behind brought him out of his panic. “You can do this. Conduct it just like you would a normal rescue. Establish contact with Virgil first, and then go from there.”

The island blipped up onto the radar, and Alan forced himself to take his father’s advice and took a shaky breath in. And then out. In. And out. Determined, he flicked open his comms. “Virgil, this is Alan. Come in please.” The static was almost deafening. “Virgil? Virgil, come in…” Still nothing. Alan licked his dry lips nervously, and tried one last time. “Please answer, big brother. Don’t tell me I’ve lost you too…”

A low chuckle was barely heard on the other end of the line, although it was difficult to miss the hint of panic in Virgil’s tone. “As if, sprout. You people are stuck with me.” There was a loud bang, and Virgil inhaled sharply. “If I manage to get this jokester off my back, that is…”

Alan’s breath hitched. “W-What? Virgil, what’s going on?”

“Are you on your way home?”

“Yes. And that doesn’t answer my question, you know…” Alan replied, anxiety through the roof at this point. “I’ve just made visual contact with the island Virg, so you better tell me fast. Yesterday fast…”

There were a series of mild curse words on the other end. Their grandmother gave the radio a glare. “Language, young man!”

“Sorry, Grandma.” Virgil muttered as the banging increased. “We have an intruder on the island…” Virgil admitted, causing gasps all around. “They must have come with the police team earlier. That’s the only time they could’ve. Me and the Kyranos are dealing with it. We have a plan.” His nervous grin was almost audible. “This medbay has another entrance, right?”

“Y-Yes, V-V-Virgil. A hi-hidden o-one.” Brains replied, stutter worse than it usually was with the added stress. “I-It leads d-directly to th-the west beach. There’s n-no other w-way there, u-unless y-you go through the j-jungle.”

“Perfect.” Was Virgil’s reply. “I’ll send the Kyranos out there while I deal with our home invader.” What he said next caught them all off guard. “Take Thunderbird Two and meet them there. Thunderbird One is down, so John and Gordon will need your help getting her home.”

“But Virgil-” Alan was promptly cut off.

“Look, we all know the risks of launching a Thunderbird while a non-IR operative is on the island, especially uninvited. But we don’t have a choice. This is likely one of the Hood’s agents anyway, so he’ll know about us…”

Jeff hummed, making his presence known. “I’m not sure about this, son. What if this isn’t one of the Hood’s men? I know the chances are low, but hypothetically speaking?”

Virgil sighed. “Either way, he’s invaded our home. And he attacked Kyrano. Let’s show him why you don’t mess with the Tracys…” The pounding somehow got louder. “The sound of Two’s launch should divert his attention, and I’ll be able to get the drop on him.”

“Virgil…” Alan was close to pleading.

“What other choice do we have?” His brother asked as the jet landed. The bang on the other end stopped. “He knows you’re there. Get to Two. Now! All of you!” Virgil whispered harshly.

“FAB, Virgil.” Alan’s voice was shaky. He fumbled with his belt, hearing the other three members of his family do the same. “Be careful…” Before his brother could reply, he clicked the radio off.

The four of them dropped out of the plane, rushing for the much larger green craft just behind the steel doors in front of them. Thunderbird Two was awaiting them in all her glory. Jeff frowned, and spun quickly to his son. “You fly Two, Alan. Take Brains and your grandmother, pick up Kyrano and Tin-Tin from the west shore, and then get the heck out of dodge. I’m going to help your brother.”

Alan gave him a look. “You just got out of the hospital!”

The patriarch smirked. “And I shall celebrate my newfound health by smacking this guy upside the head.” Alan opened his mouth to argue, and Jeff pulled him into a hug, silencing him. “Go. Don’t make me give you an order, young man.” Alan squeezed back.

“Okay…” The youngest Tracy boy relented. “Only if you don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth, Alan.” Ruth huffed, folding her arms. She fixed Jeff with a stare. He gave her a hard look back.

“We don’t have time to argue about this, mother.” He sighed. “We’ve got a plan, so let’s follow it. And hope we all make it out…”

------

A whole ocean and an entirely different country away from the chaos that the Tracy’s lives had become as of late, the young woman they depended on to run International Rescue’s vast secret agent network peered over the edge of her seat to look at the road behind her iconic pink Rolls Royce, and frowning at the brown car that had been tailing them for the past ten minutes, much to her chauffeur and most loyal friend’s chagrin, even though he would never show it.

“‘E’s still following us, then, m’lady?” Aloysius Parker asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“I’m afraid so, Parker.” Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward sighed as she turned forward once again, pushing her short blonde hair out of her eyes. “This whole business is becoming quite tiresome…” There was no need for her to elaborate. They both knew exactly what their old friend’s were dealing with.

Parker hummed in concern. “Should h’I deal with this joker, ma’am?”

Penny thought for a moment, but ultimately shook her head. “No. At least, not yet.” She gave her friend a knowing grin. “Let’s make sure he is who we think he is first. This is a busy motorway after all, and we wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

And so, they drove on, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Until eventually, they were on a clear stretch of road, and the other car slowly but surely pulled up alongside them, Penelope calmly staring the driver dead in the eye as his passenger raised his gun. She maintained that eye contact even as the car pulled in front of them. “Big mistake…” She smiled. “Fire at will, Parker.”

One shot was all it took, and the hostile car skidded out of control, the driver struggling to control the vehicle with just three tires. FAB 1 sped past, the occupants smirking at their victory.

“Good shooting, Parker.” Penelope praised.

“Thank you, ma’am…” Parker replied, a little bashfully. “‘Ome, m’lady?” He added, more than ready to get some much needed rest after the week of chaos they’d had.

The noblewoman turned secret agent sighed. “I’m afraid not, Parker. Not just yet, at least.” She turned her attention to the flashing light in front of her, a sure sign that another member of International Rescue was trying to get in contact with her. “It appears as though we’ll be away from our own beds for just a bit longer. First, there’s a call I need to answer.”

Her eyes widened at the SOS signal that appeared on her screen, before she frowned, the snippets of a plan forming in her mind. “Southampton Port, Parker, as fast as you can! We’ll need FAB 2. We have a trip to Malaysia to organise and some friends to contact about it…”

------

Tin-Tin hauled her semi-conscious father along the long and winding path down to their little rendezvous point, adjusting her hold on him every once in a while. Virgil had given her a small communicator before they’d split up, making sure that they could remain in contact. She breathed a sigh of relief when the beach finally came into view, and gently laid her father on the golden sand next to a medium sized boulder, making sure that they were well hidden if the Hood’s agent managed to get past Virgil and Jeff and find his way down to the beach.

“We’re in position.” She spoke as clearly as she could into the device.

Her boyfriend was the one who replied, and it suddenly hit Tin-Tin just how much she’d grown to miss him in just the single day he’d been gone. “FAB. Thunderbird 2, ready for take-off, Father.” Tin-Tin couldn’t see the gentle green giant of International Rescue, but she didn’t need to in order to visualise the craft’s nose pointed up into the sky, as always, ready to come to somebody’s rescue. In this case, the entire core of the International Rescue team.

Virgil grunted, keeping his voice low to avoid the intruder from perhaps getting a clue as to what they were planning. “Ready and waiting.”

Jeff Tracy’s voice rang clear and true across the comms. “Alright. I’ve got eyes on him now.” The patriarch took a deep breath, quickly scanning the skies above for any prying eyes. Crisis or not, they still had a secret to keep. “Thunderbird 2, you’re clear for launch.”

And then everything happened at once.

[arlothia]

Oh my goodness @eclec-tech thank you so much!!! And thank you for the follow, too! And I love your username on here!! It's perfect!! I have some of your fics on my "read for later" list (a couple of them you included above!!) and I really need to get to those! And those you haven't posted yet look awesome!!

Okay, the first lines of my last 10 fics, here we go - under the cut because it got long :P

(oh, and just as a heads up, all my fics are locked to AO3 users only to help battle the AI scourge. If you want to read them and don't have an account, please, Please, PLEASE let me know and I'll send you a google link or PDF or something! It's no trouble at all 🙂)

1) Failure

Crosshair and Tech were just finishing their part of the two-pronged attack while Hunter and Wrecker were in the Marauder doing their half of the plan. The two of them raced for their speeder bikes, Crosshair covering their getaway from the Separatist communication tower and picking off random droid sentries as they went. Once they reached their bikes, Tech brought out his data pad and three things happened in quick succession.

2) "I'm still here."

Omega had finally learned enough about the ship and about flying for Tech to feel comfortable teaching her about atmospheric flying. There was a lot of open space outside Ord Mantell City, so it was the ideal space for her to practice. She was a fast learner, and after an hour of practice, he’d instructed her to land the ship and make the necessary post flight checks outside the ship while he handled the ones within.

Tech was just finishing up when he heard it - a sort of high pitched muffled sound, but unmistakably one filled with distress. And then he’d heard the voices.

3) Voice

“Woohoo! Yea-!” 

Wrecker’s shout of excitement at watching the bomb explode was cut off by a secondary explosion, this one much closer than the first and catching the big adolescent in it’s blast wave. The force of it blew him off his feet and sent him crashing to the ground nearly ten feet from where he’d been standing.

4) Holding On

“Get it off me! Get it off!”

Rex bolted upright from where he’d been sleeping on the forest floor. He had called in the Bad Batch to help him with a mission on Kashyyyk to take care of an infestation of Kinraths near one of the Wookiee bases. They'd made camp for the night, but that had only been three hours ago. Getting to his feet, Rex looked around for the source of the yelling. It didn't take long.

Echo was thrashing on the ground, swinging his arm wildly as he tried to dislodge... What was that?

5) Tiny Trouble

Wrecker came out of the office and into the bar. Hunter and Echo were finishing business with Cid and Tech was still on the ship doing...something.

"Hey, Omega! Ready to get some Mantell Mix?" But the young girl at the holochess table didn't respond. In fact, she looked like she was asleep.

6) Bounty

"Hunter, we found Lanith," Echo said over the comms. "We're heading back to the ship now."

"Copy that. I'm on my way." And it was about time, too.

Cid had given them a mission that had been dangerously close to bounty hunting - a client who wanted the retrieval of someone on the run, a man named Draze Lanith. But, she'd said, the client was trying to help him, not just collect a bounty. So really, it was a rescue mission. Though, a rescue mission for someone who really didn't want to be found given that he was a wanted fugitive.

7) Frozen

Their only means of ingress into the facility was through a garbage shoot that opened up over the river. Normally, the river was deep and swift. But in the middle of winter, it was entirely frozen. Or, at least, mostly frozen…

It only took one wrong step on a thinner portion of ice for Echo to go crashing into the freezing water below. For a moment, he was able to cling to the edge of the hole, gasping as the cold stole the breath from his lungs. He scrambled for purchase, but before the others could reach him, the current carried him away and he was gone.

8) Hanging by a Threat

“The more you struggle the tighter its grip will become,” Tech warned.

“Do you know of any other way for me to reach my knife?” Hunter growled back.

The large alien plant growing from the underside of a high ledge continued to squeeze and twist Hunter, its tentacles wrapped around both his legs and one of his arms, while his other arm was pinned to his chest by another tentacle wrapping around his torso from over his right shoulder. They’d accidentally triggered the plant as they’d been walking through this canyon. They’d passed what they’d assumed were simple vines, but had turned out to be the limbs the organism appeared to use for catching, killing, and eating its prey. Because of course the plant was carnivorous.

9) Their Wrecker

The mission had been going rather smoothly; they'd gotten into the Separatist base without much incident. Their intel said their target - some high level Separatist personnel - would be in the control tower. What it hadn't said was that he would be guarded by IG-100 MagnaGuards. They had to find out the hard way.

10) Break

Crosshair stood atop one of the towers in the training room, picking off the reprogrammed B-1 battle droids that threatened to swarm where his squad was pinned down. He loved being up high, seeing the entire battlefield, finding the best vantage point to help his brothers.

He'd just created an opening Wrecker could use to charge through, ripping through the droids with his bare hands as he liked to do, when he heard a humming sound. Looking up, Crosshair saw five flying droids emerging from a hatch at the far end of the room.

---------

And true to form, this is where tag games go to die - anyone who wants to join in the fun and show off their work GO FOR IT!!! :D

Creator Self-Promotion

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics you posted. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

"But K, I don't write but I still create can I still play?"

Post your last 10 pieces and give us a play by play. What was the inspiration? Any fun facts you can share with us?

Anyway let's get on with it

1. Fishing for Compliments - Merman!Crosshair x F!Reader

A sigh passed the young woman’s lips as the sun began to disappear beneath the waves. The waves rocked her quaint vessel as if it were a mother soothing her child. Her meal as well as a plate of identical food remained untouched as she kept her gaze to the depths. Every ripple of its surface a reminder of the mounting minutes that her company kept her waiting.

2. Drop Me a Line - Wrecker x F!Reader

The young woman stifled a yawn as she continued to work the mass of dough to her standards to be plopped into pans to bake. She continued working the dough sparing glances to the chrono on the wall as the sky outside began to lighten with the sunrise. Her pulse spiked when the chrono was checked again. She abandoned the lump of dough as she snatched up a pastry box. The bell chiming as the door opened and closed.

3. Budding Romance - Rex x F!Reader

“And you’re sure you’ll have them there.”

“A bit of faith would be nice, Anakin.”

4. Skin in the Game - Wrecker x OC (Rina) (18+ Please view responsibly)

Wrecker was on the hunt. Thankfully the Marauder held only a few spaces to hide away as he searched the ship. His target tucked away by the sensors. Vibroblade twirling between his fingers while his idle gaze stared at the screen. The demolitions expert took a breath, hoping to find answers.

5. Hair Support - Tup x Reader

The days of the Clone Wars tended to drag on in between assignments. Thankfully, the Republic saw it fit to dispatch your research team with a clone legion escort to ensure the lush jungle planet would not eat you and your colleagues alive. It was in the sweltering heat of the afternoon that one of your study binges was interrupted. You shook your head knowing who dared tread into your tent.

6. Interrogations - Echo x F!Reader (18+ Please view responsibly)

The former arc trooper sighed. Another fruitless attempt at slipping free of his bonds. The chair he was bound to chilled any amount of exposed skin. The room kept dark to prevent him from gathering his bearings. He bided his time, waiting for the tell-tale clicking of his keeper. It was a whisper at first but grew louder as the automatic doors parted.

7. Personal Tastes - Hunter x F!Reader

Strands of meat sizzled and spat as she flipped the tangled mass. Her work distracting from the pair of eyes watching you from the doorway. Her culinary tasks from the staccato chops of a knife to peppers to the accented clink of a mortar and pestle offered a calming tune.

8. Just This Once, Everyone Lives - Rex x Reader

Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.

9. Keep Away - UniversityAU Wrecker x Reader

You filed out with your fellow undergrads as your last class for the afternoon let out. the professor's voice offering mention of the end of the first sprint. You traversed amongst the student body's current before veering off to a corridor. The current loosening its grasp the closer you ventured toward the sanctuary of paper and ink.

10. Nothing Fight - Crosshair x F!Reader

It could be easy to say Clone Force 99 had a culture separate from the sea of clones. Clone medics would be reassigned in the blink of an eye and nat born medics often assigned whoever pissed off the higher ups. This led to your current long term assignment. Having a medic on board being the main reason one of your patients was released to his squad early pending observations.

NPT - @photogirl894 @rain-on-kamino @tecker @techs-stitches @littlemissmanga @annwayne @fakegingerrights @merkitty49 @moodymisty @starrylothcat

Wanna promote your work here too? Do it!

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin' In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N--Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 1

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, looks who's back at it again with a fic like this! IT'S ME! Enjoy! -Thorne

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

The creature was coming at him a lot faster than he’d thought it was, and he barely had enough time to form a wall before it slammed into him. Even then, the force of it hitting the green construct sent him back a hundred feet and into the side of an abandoned skyscraper.

Pain wasn’t really felt when in the suit, but man, it still threw him for a loop and he groaned as he picked himself up off the ground, shoving glass and concrete away from his body. He could hear the rest of the Justice League fighting outside and as he started back towards the hole his body had made, the creature came in.

And this time, he didn’t have any to react, and the glowing magenta beast was coming right at him—fast. He lifted his arms and started to will a construction when a low sound came from his hand and with wide eyes, he watched the glowing neon green ring faded dull.

“Shi—”

His suit faded instantaneously and the next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the wall. It cracked under the pressure and his skull felt as though it’d been split when it connected with the concrete. The creature’s giant clawed hands wrapped around his throat, starting to choke the life out of him and he scratched at the magenta skin, to no avail.

“He—lp!” he gasped. “Som—on—e hel—p!”

Black started to edge from the corners of his vision and a haze began to settle over his brain as his lungs stopped receiving air.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die like this. Someone, anyone, help!

Something cold splattered across his face, and suddenly the steel grip around his throat went slack. The weight of the creature fell away from him and he dropped to his knees and collapsed onto his back, gasping in lungfuls of air to his deprived organs.

When his head stopped spinning, and he found the strength to move, he rolled onto his side and immediately, he recoiled with a shout of fear. The creature’s big ugly head had been decapitated and was leaking a fluorescent blue blood—that’s probably what splattered on his face and he reached up, wiping a hand across his skin. He pulled his hand away and there was the neon ichor painting his palm.

“You’re weak, Rayner,” a voice commented disapprovingly.

He craned his neck up to see a woman who looked about his age wiping the neon blood from a silver sword before she sheathed it on her back, her white slit eyes finding his.

“You almost died because your ring ran out of power.”

Kyle huffed and unsteadily stretched his legs. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the woman that saved your life.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you,” he said, casting one last look at the creature before looking back at her. “So, who are you again? You obviously know me?” he took a moment to examine her suit. It was black, with silver stripes and in the middle of her chest was a silver symbol, that of a Greek helmet. But what got Kyle was the bat wings that outstretched from the sides of the helm.

“Are you apart of Batman’s troupe?”

She grunted and tapped at the glowing screen on her wrist. “Yeah. Name’s Silver Sentinel.”

“Oh, I know who you are!” he grinned. “You’re Dick and Jason’s sister!”

“Yes, please, tell the world who my younger brothers are.”

Kyle’s face heated and he glanced down at his hands. “Sorry.”

She tapped a button and waited, then a voice came over the comm link.

Talk.

Her eyes found Kyle’s and she replied, “Rescued your Green Lantern about two klicks from your position.” A sneer came over her lip. “Fool let his ring run out of power.”

He stared at his hands as embarrassment crawled across his skin, flushing from his neck up to his cheeks.

Hmm. Can you get him back to New York?

“I could be persuaded.”

Sentinel.

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, whatever. I’ll take him back to NY.” Walking over to the hole in the wall, she saw a beam of light. “Need a hand down there?”

Negative. We’ve got it under control.

“Ten-four. Silver Sentinel out.” The line went dead, and she looked down at Kyle. “Well, are you going to keep sitting there on your ass or are you gonna get up?”

He scrambled to his feet, an apology rolling off his tongue. “Sorry.”

She merely grunted in return and started off towards the exit, him following rather quickly. As they got to the entrance to the floor, she walked over to the elevator and pried it open, and Kyle had to fight to not be impressed by her sheer strength. She placed some type of device between the open doors and clicked a button, and it spread, keeping them apart.

Next, she pulled out what looked like one of the grapple guns Kyle had seen her family carrying around, and pointed it at the ceiling of the elevator, pulling the trigger. It hit the top with a clink, and she gave it an experimental tug before looking over at him.

“Come here,” she commanded, and Kyle blinked as something tight shot through his gut at the tone she carried—one of force and complete authority. Something told him that she was the type of woman who did what she wanted and expected people to fall in line behind her or else. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been aroused or terrified, but it was probably a mix of both as he walked over.

She curled an arm around his waist and tugged his body up against hers. “Put one of your arms around my shoulder, the other around my body.”

“I—uh—I don’t feel comfor—” Kyle stuttered as his cheeks turned scarlet and she glared at him.

“We’re not going to dry hump in the elevator like horny teenagers, Rayner.” She pulled them nose to nose and he tried not to wince as the black nose of the cowl pushed into his skin. “If you’d rather us grapple down the side of the building where everyone can see, then let’s go.”

He swallowed thickly and did as she’d said a moment earlier, putting one of his arms around her shoulder, the other wrapping snug around her back. “N-no. We can do this,” he agreed, and she grunted.

“Listen carefully, this is going to be scary because you’re not used to it, but the second our feet come off this floor, don’t panic. I’ve got you and I’m not going to drop you.”

Though her voice was harsh, he could feel the security. “And the claw holding us up?”

“Has a gripping force of two tons.” She looked at him and inched towards the opening. “We’ll be fine.”

Kyle stepped over and looked down into the cold and dark shaft, immediately feeling his heart-rate pick up and she sighed when she heard the sharp intake of breath.

“You’re such a baby,” she scowled and pulled them into the shaft. His arms tighten instantaneously and even his legs tightened around hers. “Gonna try and climb me, Rayner?” she teased.

“Shut up,” he hissed and buried his face in her shoulder pad. “Just hurry and get us down.”

She snorted and clicked a button, allowing them to descend at a faster pace than he would’ve liked. “I thought Green Lanterns were supposed to be fearless?”

“Usually when I’m somewhere I could fall to my death, I’m powered up.” He retorted, still burrowed in her shoulder. “This is a little different.”

“Relax, Rayner. I’ve got you.”

Kyle pulled his face away from her armor and stared at her, though all he could make out was the white slits. “How are you this strong? I know I weigh at least one-eighty.”

She grunted. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He blinked. “Are you calling me fat? That sounds like you’re calling me fat.”

“Your muscle mass could be better.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he griped and when she chuckled, it sent shivers down his spine.

“To answer your earlier question—”

“The one where you called me fat?” he interrupted, and she scowled at him.

“The one about how strong I am. I work out daily, Rayner, and I can lift a lot more than my weight.”

“How heavy—” he chuckled nervously when she glared at him. “I’m not gonna finish that question.”

“Good idea, Rayner. Might save you from being dropped.”

“Hardy-har-har. You’re hilarious,” he retorted, and suddenly his feet his something hard. He looked down and saw the elevator, and she shoved him back from her, clicking the button on the grapple gun.

It recoiled in a matter of seconds and she tapped a button on the side of her cowl as she stowed the gun, then she moved to the corner of the elevator and brought her foot down as hard as she could. Kyle winced when the hatch gave way and he wondered how powerful she was to kick through a metal latch in one hit.

She looked at him. “Come on. I’ll call the Batplane when we get outside.”

“I thought only Batman was allowed to do that?” he asked, and she scoffed.

“Let’s just say I’m the one who’s allowed to do whatever she wants, and things don’t get fucked up.” She disappeared down the hatch and a moment later, he heard the elevator doors being pried open. “Are you coming, Rayner? I’d be more than happy to leave you here without a ride home.”

Kyle hurried and squeezed down the hatch, grunting when his tennis shoes hit the floor. The elevator rocked and creaked and she made a noise that sounded a lot like the one Batman made when he was annoyed.

“Hurry up and get through the doors.”

He ducked under her arms and out onto the floor and she followed, letting the thick metal doors slam behind her. She strode ahead and tapped at her screen.

“Alfred, are you there?”

A moment later, an older voice came over the line.

Yes Miss Wayne. How can I assist you this evening?

“I need the Batplane at my position. Could you send it?”

At once.

“Thanks Alfie.”

Of course, Miss Wayne.

As they waited in the lobby of the skyscraper, she murmured, “If you’re not going to ask whatever you’re thinking about asking me. Stop thinking. It’s annoying.”

Kyle blinked. “How’d you—”

“Oh please.” she rolled her eyes. “You’ve opened and shut your mouth eight times in the last two minutes.” She gazed at him. “Just ask.”

“You’re really Bruce Wayne’s daughter? (Y/N) Wayne?”

“I am.” (Y/N) replied. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I dunno…it’s just kinda hard to believe that a famous model doubles as a vigilante at night.”

“Why’s that so shocking? My dad’s a multi-billionaire playboy by day and Batman by night. Are you telling me a woman can’t do it too?”

Kyle’s green eyes widened, and he shook his head. “What? No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant that with back-to-back photo shoots, it must be hard to make time to do all this.”

(Y/N) hummed, turning her gaze to the street, a blur of red went by and she knew it was Barry Allen. “I run on my own schedule, Rayner, not anyone else’s.”

“Wow, you really are the woman in charge, aren’t you?” he remarked.

And she turned her eyes onto him again, this time narrowed in amusement as she teased, “Trying to see if you can find out what it’s like to be in charge for the night?”

Kyle’s mouth opened and snapped shut. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, swallowing nervously.

She crossed over to him in one step, getting up in his personal space again as she cooed, “Oh, you don’t?” he nodded and she reached up, trailing her silver armored fingers up the front of his white shirt and he was incapable of fighting how his muscles twitched at the pressure.

“I think you do,” she flirted. “Come on, Rayner. Don’t you wanna see what it’s like when you’re the man in charge? How much fun it can be to take all that control?” (Y/N) leaned close, her face barely an inch from his. “To be the one who holds all that power over a woman?”

He couldn’t breathe. His head was swimming with R-rated thoughts that if she really were a mind reader, she’d probably break his jaw, but all he knew was that his mind was so far into the gutter it wasn’t funny, and he swore she could hear his heart pounding.

She pulled away. “You should break out on your own instead of working for a design company. Then you’d have better control over your own schedule.”

Kyle blinked, stunned silent, then he said, “Wait, what?”

(Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“What was,” he gestured wildly. “All that just now?”

Placing a hand on her hip, she asked, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Rayner. All I said was that you should get on your own.”

A deafening sound shook the floor and Kyle stared at the black plane settling down in the middle of the street. (Y/N) walked out the doors and to it as if it just hadn’t pulled a “J-turn” at twelve G’s.

“Let’s go, Rayner. I’ve got better things to do than babysit you,” she called, and he ran after her. She helped him climb into it, then scowled. “Move over. You’re in my spot.”

He shimmied in the tight space to the other seat and strapped in, watching curiously as she tapped at the buttons and flipped switches before grabbing hold of the steering device.

Kyle snorted. “It’s even shaped like a bat.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Yeah, that’s how we do things in our family.” She tapped at the screen. “Batman, this is Silver Sentinel. Come in.”

Read you loud and clear, Sentinel.

“Green Lantern and I are in route to New York.” She paused and directed her gaze to the screen, watching red dots surround a group of blue ones. “You’ve got enemies incoming. Do you want backup?”

Negative. You and Green Lantern get back to New York. We can handle this.

For once that night, Kyle watched as concern crossed (Y/N)’s face and she replied, “Dad, I think—”

I gave you an order, Sentinel.

(Y/N) glared and looked at Kyle and he about shrunk in his seat form the withering stare; she tossed him a helmet and ordered, “Put that on and don’t puke in it.”

“Don’t what?” he inquired as he put it on and the only answer he got was the sudden kick of the engines and he was pulled back in his seat. “Holy shit,” he whispered breathlessly as the Batwing took a U-turn in the air and headed off towards the fight.

Sentinel, we’re fine.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe that,” (Y/N) retorted and in a matter of moments they were flying over the rest of the Justice League. She tapped at the screen. “You’ve got incoming hostiles from the north, east, and west.” (Y/N) flipped a few switches above her then pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Heatseekers and nanite missiles deployed.”

Kyle watched her go between the screen and the switches. “Hostiles in the east and west quadrants have been eliminated.”

What can you tell me about the north?

“You’ve got multiple hostiles coming in. Got a big guy too. Got any tips?”

They’re vulnerable to sound waves. Take him out and we’ll do the rest.

“Ten-four. Happy hunting.”

(Y/N) turned the steering wheel and directed the Batplane towards the north part of the fight, grinning when the giant creature came into view, while Kyle looked like he was going to crap himself.

“Merry Christmas, ugly. Kiss my ass,” she quipped and pressed a button, and a black tube the size of a fire hydrant shot to the ground, and with a thunk, sunk in.

“What’s that supposed to do?” Kyle asked and she grinned.

“Watch and learn.”

The device popped up, blue and armed and she hit the screen. Immediately the windows of every building and car in the mile radius shattered and to his amazement, Kyle watched the creatures screech and grab at their heads before they exploded into piles of neon blue goo.

His jaw dropped. “Holy shit. That was cool.”

(Y/N) smirked and checked the map once more. No more hostiles inbound and she hit the comm link again. “Justice League you are all clear. I repeat, Justice League you are all clear.”

Good work, Sentinel. Now do as I told you and take Green Lantern back to New York.

“Is nothing I do good enough for you, father?” she griped, though Kyle could see the humor in her eyes.

Get off the comm link.

“Make me.”

Sentinel. Get. Off.

“Fine, fine. I love you too.” (Y/N) pushed at the screen once more then reclined in her seat, shutting her eyes.

“Don’t you have to fly this thing?” Kyle asked as the engines picked up again.

“Nah. It’s got autopilot.”

“I gotta get me one of these,” he whispered, and she reached over him, pulling out something from a drawer. (Y/N) opened a snack bag and popped a cookie into her mouth.

“You could probably construct one with your ring,” she offered, then held out the bag.

He took one with a ‘thank you’, then said, “Yeah but there’s nothing like owning the real thing.”

“HA! Give my dad a couple million dollars and he might be willing to part with one.”

“And on that note, I’ll stick to constructs,” he chuckled, and the rest of their flight was filled with easy banter, where (Y/N) found herself teasing Kyle a lot more than he was comfortable with—only because he found himself lacking a comeback for every remark she gave him.

***

“You really gotta get a new apartment. This place is way too small for a grown man,” she commented, and he snorted, picking up a pair of shoes that were laying haphazardly on the floor.

“I’m not exactly on the billionaire’s credit card, (Y/N). I live on minimum wage and whatever I can get out of commissions.”

She observed Kyle as he recharged his ring and when he was finished, she asked, “How much do you charge for commissions?”

He blinked and looked up at her. “Oh, well it depends on what the commissioner wants me to do.”

“Give me a price range.”

“Uh…between eighty and two hundred. That’s usually what I charge.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment. “Mind showing me some of your best works? I’ve been thinking about hiring a graphic artist for a new project I’m working on.”

Kyle felt a giddy feeling rise in his chest and he practically tripped over himself to his desk to grab his sketchbook. His cheeks were warm when she giggled and took it from him, flipping through it in silence. And that wracked his nerves because without the cowl on, he could see just how scrutinizing her gaze was.

After a moment she passed it back to him and when she didn’t say anything, merely frowned, he couldn’t help but deflate a bit. “I guess it’s not what you’re looking for, huh?” he tried to sound light, but it came out a lot bitter than he meant.

(Y/N) hummed. “It’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

“I can get you in touch with a better artist at the—” he stopped mid-sentence and gaped at her. “Wait, what was that you said just now?”

She snorted. “I said your work is exactly what I’m looking for.”

He couldn’t fight the shock coursing through him. “Really? It is?”

Suddenly her smile was replaced with a scowl and she bit out, “Quit making me repeat shit and listen the first time.”

Kyle nodded. “Right. I just…wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“I know,” she replied cockily, then took out her phone and tapped at the screen before showing it to him. “I know you’re a graphic designer and not a clothing one, but you’d be really helpful with the new line of clothing and jewelry I’m planning on making.”

He took her phone gently and swiped at the pictures. “Justice League themed?”

(Y/N) tipped her head. “We’re doing an exclusive line for Gotham’s vigilantes first. If it pays well, we’ll go from there.” She took her phone back and stared at him. “I’m willing to pay you up to two grand for every design you give me.”

Kyle’s eyes practically popped out of his head and his jaw went slack. “Are you—are you being serious?”

She nodded and stowed her phone. “On one condition.”

He nodded. “For two grand a design? I’ll do anything for you.”

The corner of her mouth rose in a smirk and he realized his words too late as she purred, “Well I would love to see you on your knees for me. So, I’ll keep that in mind, Rayner.” Waving a hand, she added, “But besides that, if you want the job, you have to come to the manor.”

“Wayne Manor?”

“Mhm. I’ll provide everything you need to create and design.”

His dark brows furrowed. “I can do that, but why?”

A solemn look came across her face. “You almost got yourself killed tonight because you let your ring power down.” She placed her hands on her hips. “If you want this job, you’re going to take combat lessons from me and you’re going to start working out more.”

Kyle’s face pinched. “You want me to work out and get my ass kicked for a job?”

“More like so my brothers don’t lose a best friend.” She shrugged. “But, if a freelance artist like you can find better money elsewhere, I’d be happy to let you go and—”

“I get it!” he scowled and looked away for a moment before sighing and turning back to her, his hand outstretched. “Fine. It’s a deal. You pay me and I’ll do your designs.”

“And?” she questioned with a smirk.

He groaned, his muscles already feeling the pain coming. “And I’ll take lessons from you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m so glad we could come to an arrangement.” She shook his hand. “It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Rayner.”

Kyle swallowed thickly as she pulled away and walked to the fire escape. “Likewise, Miss Wayne,” he replied lowly, knowing that with each sway of her hips, he was getting more and more screwed. Not only was she his better, she was also his best friends’ older sister—hotter and badass older sister.

She opened the window and paused, looking back at him. “This’ll be a three-month project. Are you okay with that, Kyle?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” (Y/N) seemed to be thinking about something and he could tell. “Is something on your mind?”

She pulled on the cowl and gazed at him. “I’ve half a mind to tell you to pack a bag and spend the time at the manor while we do the project.”

“Pay my rent and I’ll consider it,” he snorted and then she blinked and shifted her gaze down to her wrist then tapped at it.

After a minute, she said, “Alright, your rent and utilities have been paid for the next three months.”

“What?”

“You said pay your rent. So, I did.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Kyle begged—he didn’t want to owe her like that.

She smiled. “Pack a bag Rayner. You’re moving in.”

“Seriously?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop making me repeat things?”

He sighed heavily, moving to pack. “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooo, call me ma’am like that again and I might not let you leave when this is over.”

[too-gay-for-marvel]

just this once pt.3

a/n: i know im technically a day late, but we stopped very late. but its here! and its gonna be a decent amount of parts, so be prepared, besties

Word Count: 2,439

Warnings: smut implications

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

Natasha had to admit, she hated how understanding Maria was. She had gone home and told Maria what you had said, expecting to become single almost as soon as she had finished talking. But no, Natasha had finished her rant, and Maria had taken a deep breath before saying “I’m sorry,” and dragging her into a hug.

She would’ve handled a “we’re over” much better.

But it helped ease some of the guilt that she was carrying around with her. It lifted some of the weight that had been keeping her head down and feet dragging. And with Maria being the most understanding person in the world, now she could live her life. Did she forgive herself? Fuck no, but at least she could move on with Maria.

It helped that you kept to what she had told you.

In the months after learning the truth, she never saw you. Her feet never took her to your suite, her thoughts never trailed to that night. Well. Not during the day. She… didn’t want to talk about the dreams.

Natasha was able to go a solid month without seeing you, and even though the back of her mind kept telling her to talk to you, she had stayed away. She had kept to her “honey do” list, went on her missions, and just lived her life.

Until Fury stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.

“You two have a mission.”

Natasha looked over to where you were standing, over in the corner as far away from her as you could be. Your eyes were down, only occasionally darting up to look at Fury when he was talking. She could see the fins on your arm flare out a bit before relaxing again, along with the slight twitch of your gills.

“Can this mission not be done with one person?” Natasha asked, her eyes still locked on you; you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“It requires stealth and…” Fury looked over at you and sighed. “Gills.”

“And here I thought you kept me around for my good looks,” you teased with an upturn of the corner of your mouth.

“When do you need us?” Natasha asked, and your half smile fell as quickly as it had appeared.

“You leave bright and early, 0400.”

With that, Fury left the room, leaving you and her alone. She took note of your fins staying flared, and took that as her sign to leave. Your feet shuffled, and she moved slower just in case, but you never reached out to her. That was all Natasha needed to head back to her room to prepare for tomorrow.

Tomorrow came far too soon, and it felt like only moments later that Natasha was standing in the hangar, watching you prep your gear.

Incorrectly.

“Your holster’s backwards,” Natasha pointed out.

“It is not, I’m testing something out,” you shot back without looking up.

“Whatever you put in there is going to fall out,” she continued.

You ignored her, but tried to turn it around without her noticing. She did. A silence fell over the both of you as you continued to get ready. Natasha had already gotten all of her stuff, but you continued to move around. You grabbed your belt and a harpoon, all of them quickly attached at your hips.

You maintained your relentless pace, her face pressed against the wall as you held your hand to the back of her neck. She felt you thrusting into her, most likely leaving a bruise on her ass and hips, but all she knew was that it felt so good she could only think of one thing-

Natasha turned her head away, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say. She refused to look at you until you stood up straight, geared up and ready to go. Your suit told her that there was going to be some sort of underwater aspect, and that gave her a bit of insight as to what was expected of the both of you.

The quinjet ride was awkward, to say the least. You stayed in the back while Natasha flew. She was thankful that you were keeping your distance. If you had been close, it was very possible that Natasha would have lost her damn mind.

Your suit always did do something to her.

You hadn't even bothered to take your pants off; just pulled them down far enough for you to get your strap out. Her fingers scrambled to grab purchase of something, anything, but your suit was still wet from the mission. Almost as wet as she was.

Natasha shook her head, trying to physically remove the memories. She was going to kill Nick when she got back.

She needed to focus on the mission. There was no need for it to be anything other than a mission. Get in, map out the building, get out. You would cover the lower levels, she would cover the upper, it shouldn't take more than an hour.

It was a slow descent to the checkpoint, but easy enough. You spent the last few minutes braiding your hair, keeping it out of the way and showing off the shaved part of your head. Natasha remembered teaching you how to tie those braids.

Once the quinjet was landed and you were both on solid ground, it was straight to business.

"Once you get back to solid ground, your pants and gear should be in a backpack marked on your locator," Natasha said.

"We'll meet up in the eastern stairwell," you continued, not even skipping a beat. It was like nothing had ever happened.

"Comms on?"

"Gonna miss me?" You asked, cocky as ever, but you turned the comm on anyway.

"Just get moving," Natasha huffed with a roll of her eyes. "The sooner we get in, the sooner we're done."

"See you in a minute," you winked and mock-saluted before jumping down into the hole that would be your entrance.

It's what she hated about you; how you could so easily act like nothing had ever happened.

Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just one. Then it was time to get moving. She finished pulling her cap down, mostly covering the top half of her face before finishing the walk to the guarded entrance

She flashed a badge and they let her in without a word. One of her easier infiltrations, if she were being honest. Just went to prove that as long as she acted like she belonged, no one would question her. It was easier to blend in if you acted like there was no need for it.

Starting from the top, Natasha made her way down the building, mapping corridors, potential hidden rooms, rooms of interest. By the time she made it to your meeting point, she had marked more than enough information to assist in future missions.

All she needed was your half and she could go home.

The door to the stairwell was thrown open, slamming against the wall and causing Natasha to flinch ever so slightly. You were still soaking wet, trailing water behind you, and you didn't have your gear.  In fact, you didn't have anything.

"What happened?" Natasha asked. But the sound of an alarm being set off was answer enough.

"It wasn't me," you stated simply.

Yelling echoed in the corridor behind you, and you gave Natasha A Look. That was all she needed before you both took off running down the stairs, skipping three or four at a time. She heard a *squeak* and turned around just in time to see you fall flat on your ass with a loud grunt.

“Get up,” Natasha groaned.

She didn’t wait for you to get up on your own, instead decided to grab your arm and yank you up. Except for the fact that she had forgotten how wet you were, and how slippery your skin could get, and you ended up falling back onto your ass a second time.

“Some help you are,” you growled as you managed to push yourself back up onto your feet.

“If you weren’t such a freak, this wouldn’t even be a problem,” Natasha shot back.

You both continued running, finally reaching the bottom floor just in time to hear echoed footsteps a few floors above you. Natasha opened the door and pushed you in, quick to follow after. She shut the door and grabbed the extra harpoon bolt from your hip, shoving it between the door and the wall while you protested.

“Get going,” she said as she continued to push you forward, looking for a way out.

“We could always go through the sewers,” you suggested with a shrug when you both came to a halt in an intersection that you swore you hadn’t seen yet.

“I’m not escaping in a fucking sewer,”Natasha shot at you. “You were supposed to find us a way out.”

“It’s not my fault someone ratted us out! I don’t like being stuck with you either!” You shouted back.

“Oh sure, after all of that bullshit a few months ago, now you don’t want to get stuck with me?”

“Listen, I said I was-”

“They’re around the corner!” A voice shouted. You and Natasha shared a look, and Natasha managed to pull you into a closet just in time for footsteps to be heard coming in your direction.

“We should’ve taken the sewer,” you whisper-yelled as Natasha tried to ignore how close to you she was.

If you two had been any closer, you would’ve been inside each other, and not in the enjoyable way. Natasha’s arms were pinned in between the both of you, and she could feel your ribs under her fingers. Her ear was pressed to your body; she could hear your irregular, three-pump heartbeat loud and clear. There used to be a time she would have enjoyed being so close.

You were both silent as you waited for the footsteps and yelling to die down. Even when they had faded, you stayed still, hoping that they wouldn’t open the closet as a last resort. Your body heat was comforting, and Natasha almost found herself forgetting the danger that was just around the corner. But then you gave an awkward cough and shifted, and Natasha was brought back to the fact that this wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable.

“I think we’re safe,” Natasha mumbled.

“Let’s get out of here,” you agreed as you cleared your throat again, still incredibly uncomfortable.

You reached around her and opened the door, the both of you practically falling out of the closet. When Natasha stood up straight again, she brushed the nonexistent dirt from her suit and avoided your gaze at all costs. Only when she had regained her composure did she turn to you again.

“You mentioned a sewer?” Natasha asked, completely defeated.

You nodded and started running in the opposite direction of the yelling, leading her down corridors until you both reached a manhole cover. Natasha could smell the sewage without opening it, and she could only imagine how terrible it would be once she jumped in. But there didn’t really seem to be any other option, and you were already prying it open just enough for them to slip in.

“Ladies first,” you gestured.

“Gee, thanks,” Natasha groaned as she took her last breath of semi-pure air and jumped in.

The stench was worse than anything Natasha had ever smelled before. All the death and ruin she had witnessed, and she still believed that this was worse. She couldn’t even attempt to guess at what was causing the smell, but she didn’t think she wanted to know. Maybe it would be a little more tolerable if she just pretended it was nothing.

You jumped in after her and pulled the manhole back into place, and just like that, it was like neither of you had ever been there. You didn’t wait for her as you started making your way out of the building, and Natasha quickly followed suit. She didn’t understand how you could breathe the air like it was nothing, but maybe it was part of your physiology. Maybe you were just lucky.

It felt like an eternity before you both ran into a ladder that would take you out of the sewer. You yanked the manhole cover aside and Natasha went up first, gasping when she smelled the fresh air. It was like being reborn, she thought. Her cells felt rejuvenated and her skin felt cleaner.

As soon as you pulled the cover back on, you both ran back to the quinjet as fast as you could. The stench of sewage followed you, stuck to your clothes; they would probably be incinerated when you got back to the tower. But you were out, and you could head back with enough confidence to tell Nick that you had at least gotten half of the building mapped out.

“You fly, I think I’m drying out,” you groaned. Natasha didn’t argue.

She sat in the pilot’s seat and set a course for the tower, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a good sleep. But she looked back in time to see you stripping your suit off, groaning as it literally peeled off. Inch by inch, she saw your shoulders, your spines, your back, those abs.

You were never one to let anyone see you undressed, but Natasha loved that she was allowed. The way you shifted and twitched when her fingers ran over your skin, when you whined if she kissed that spot on your back. Loved the feel of your abs flexing as you thrusted into her at an inhuman pace that had her moaning and cumming for hours and-

“Nat, pull up!”

Natasha felt your hands covering hers, yanking up, and the real world unfolded before her eyes. The ground was quickly approaching, and the sound of the air rushing past the quinjet was enough to make Natasha’s hands shake. Only when the jet was back up and on course did she start to settle.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” You shouted, but Natasha just turned back to the front, trying her hardest to ignore the stinging in her eyes.

You grumbled and walked off, and Natasha could feel the frustration radiating off of you. But she didn’t really care anymore. She had nearly gotten you both killed because she had been too busy remembering you railing her. Natasha couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t be around you anymore.

Not if she wanted to stay alive.

[ragingpancake]

I Got You

A/N: I watched Echoes the other night and frankly, I just needed to write this. Sort of an unofficial sequel to The Road to Nowhere Leads to Me.

They’re almost back to Atlantis from the mainland when Rodney realizes that maybe something’s a bit off with Sheppard – er… John (and he has to remind himself to start calling Shep—John by his first name because this whole… thing between this is still relatively new and it’s probably not social acceptable for one to refer to one’s boyfriend by last name only). No one would ever really call him chatty, but this level of quietness is almost unsettling, especially when Rodney tries to goad him into some gentle bantering and he’s just not having it. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks finally as the city is just coming into view. “Huh?” Rodney squints, mouth turning down in a frown. “I certainly didn’t stutter, Colonel.” Maybe that’ll get his attention.

He waits a moment, and then two. Nope. Nada. The lights are on but nobody’s home. “… John.”

At that, John lifts a hand and presses the heel of it against one of his eyes, wincing and Rodney notices for the first time how not well the other actually looks. “I’ve just… got this killer headache that won’t go away,” he says and it actually sounds pained in a way that Rodney isn’t quite used to from him. He watches as John squints at the city in the distance. “Maybe I should take over?” For a split second, he thinks John might be considering it before he shakes his head. “Nah, s’alright. I know how much you struggle to fly in a straight line.” There’s the smallest hint of teasing in his voice but Rodney doesn’t rise to the challenge because it’s such a weak attempt on John’s part that he knows he’d absolutely assassinate John with a comeback and where’s the fun in that? “Are you sure? Because, because I’ve been in one of these things when it’s crashed into the water, if you remember correctly, and I really have no intention of repeating that, so if you aren’t feeling well, I’d rather just--.” “Rodney,” John says and now, there’s a trace of a bite to his tone. Wow. Hostile. “Okay, I’m just saying--.” “I know,” John says. “But it’s fine. I’ve got it.” Rodney resigns himself to believing that for about a split second until he glances over again and notices the blood dripping from John’s nose. “John--.” “Dammit, Rodney! I said I’m--.” And whatever lie John was about to tell dies on his lips as he slumps over, head smacking the console. Immediately, Rodney leaps into action, grabbing John before he slips out of the pilot’s chair to ease him down onto the floor, his head lulling to the side sickeningly. “Jumper 1, this is Atlantis, come in. Your course has drastically shifted.” Radek’s voice comes through the comm system in the jumper and Rodney suddenly realizes that no one is, you know, actually piloting. “I need a medical team to the Jumper Bay. Sheppard is down, I repeat, Sheppard is down.” He scrambles into the pilot’s chair and manages to jerk it upwards approximately three point five seconds before the jumper crashes into the ocean. “Rodney?” It’s Elizabeth’s voice now, and she sounds about as worried as Rodney feels. “Carson’s here. What happened?” “Can’t talk now! Trying to fly and not, you know, crash and send us both to our deaths in the horrifically vast ocean. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” “Rodney!” “Just have them standing by!” He cuts off the comm system and glances down at John who has not yet regained consciousness. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.” It becomes his mantra as he somehow manages to navigate the jumper back to the city and into the bay. He barely has time to lower the door before a med team is swarming in and before Rodney has a chance to so much as breathe, they’re gone, John with them. There’s a small bit of blood on the floor from where John was laying and Rodney has to work very hard not to throw up. ---- It’s dark in the hallway, save for the faint blue glow emanating from the center of the wall closest to him. He reaches out, hand pressing against it and he can feel the thrum of hurt intensifying, adding to what’s already there in his head. He staggers at the force of it, drops to his knees and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to stave off the pounding of his head. But this isn’t his hurt, he realizes after a moment. It’s hers, and that thought alone is enough to force him back to his feet, hand reaching out to touch that blue light again. This time, he feels an almost burning heat fanning out from the center of his hand as the blue expands and he watches as it begins to creep across the wall, almost as if it’s beckoning him to follow. He’s never been good at following orders and he has the record to prove it, but he finds his feet moving, seemingly of their own accord, allowing the glow to lead him down the darkened hallway for what seems like forever until it stops, finally, at a room he doesn’t quite recognize. “Why am I here?” Because I need your help, she answers

back, the words cool and gentle within his mind. Find me, John Sheppard. Before it’s too late. “Before what’s too late? What are you trying to tell me?” But she’s already receding from his mind and all he’s left with is a light so bright that penetrates the darkness as John opens his eyes. --- Rodney’s there when John finally comes to under the bright lights of the infirmary. “Oh thank God,” he says as he slumps back into the chair, running a hand across his forehead. “Far be it from me to say I told you so, but--.” He doesn’t get a chance to finish before John is sitting up so quickly that it makes Rodney a bit dizzy, kicking the blankets off of his legs. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He stands up, pressing a hand to John’s shoulder to ease him back down onto the mattress and Ronon is on the other side of the bed, doing the same. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” The Satedan asks in his natural rumble. “I have to help her,” John says and Rodney suddenly finds himself a bit miffed at that. “Help who?” He asks and if he sounds a little pissy, he thinks he’s probably allowed because you know, he’s the one been sitting at John’s bedside for the last several hours, worried very much about the possibility of brain damage and now that he’s awake, the first thing he mentions is some second rate harlot and--. “The city,” he rasps and he grabs Ronon’s wrist, trying to force it off of him. “Something’s wrong with the city.” “What? The city is fine,” Rodney says, but he’s reaching for his tablet anyway, pulling up the city schematics to scan over quickly, searching for any indication that something was not right. “See?” He says, and he turns the tablet to face John so he can see for himself. “The back up teams cleaned everything up nicely, there’s absolutely nothing that would indicate--.” “Rodney,” he says and there’s an almost wild look in his eyes as he glances up at the scientist, seemingly pleading with him to just listen. “They missed something. There’s something wrong, we have to--.” “Aye,” Carson greets, a smile on his face. “There ya are. Ya had us quite worried there for a bit. I’d still like to run a few scans--.” Rodney tunes him out as he searches John’s face and he supposes that there is a possibility that something was missed. It’s a huge city, many parts that they’ve yet to explore and the Wraith attack had been devastating. He rationalizes that this could also possibly be attributed to some sort of brain injury, what with the bleeding and the passing out and everything but something in John’s eyes gives him pause. Whatever’s brought him to this conclusion, John seems to truly believe that there’s something wrong with their city, with their home and while Rodney isn’t apt to act without actual evidenced based data, he finds that he can’t quite let this go without investigating. “Stop,” he says, holding up a hand to Carson. “We need to go.” “Go? What are ye on about?” Carson asks, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “We still don’ know what caused the bleedin’ an’--.” “Something’s wrong with the city,” Rodney says, echoing John’s previous statement. “We have to go.” Ronon glances at Rodney from across John’s bed and when Rodney gives a barely there nod, Ronon crowds Carson, gently ushering him away. “Sorry, doc.” “Oh, ye can’t be serious! Rodney!” “Can you stand?” Rodney asks John, and he reaches for him, carefully like he’s not sure where it’s okay to touch, especially in public, but John’s hand grabs his wrists and he squeezes gently. “Thank you.” “If you really want to thank me,” Rodney says dryly, “you can do so by not passing out on me again during what is sure to be a long trip around the city. “I’ll do my best,” John answers solemnly and Rodney supposes that’s as good as it gets. --- It’s dark outside, the Lantean sun having set several hours ago. They’ve split up into groups, Ronon and Teyla, Lorne and McMasters, John and Rodney. They’ve had absolutely no luck in finding anything of consequence and Rodney is trying very hard not to lose his temper because he’s

tried to show John on the tablet several times now that everything still shows all is well, but John is insistent. Desperate even, only growing moreso the farther away they get from the heart of the city. “Teyla, Ronon, this is McKay. Anything?” “No, Rodney,” Teyla answers back almost immediately. “It seems as though everything is still working as it should over this way.” “Lorne?” “All good here, doc. I’m gonna suggest we call it, at least for the night. Some of these labs haven’t properly been cleared yet, I’d like to--.” “No,” John says and when Rodney glances over to give him an exasperated glare, he realizes that John’s nose is bleeding again. “John, what are you--!” “This is the hallway,” he tells Rodney, reaching up to wipe the blood away, smearing it to his cheek. “This is… she needs us…” He reaches out and touches the wall and Rodney watches as it pulsates under his hand, a blue glow flickering to life. He’s always known that Atlantis liked John better than she liked anyone else, has seen it in the way rooms light up for him, the effortless way in which John activates all her tech, but this… this is something else. She’s actually communicatingwith him, he knows it. “Three levels above the east pier,” Rodney says into his comm. “Teyla—” “We are already on our way,” and over the radio, Rodney can hear the heavy footfalls of their feet against the floor. Rodney doesn’t realize that John has walked away, not at first, until he turns to see the glow halfway down the hall, barely illuminating John’s figure as it guides him further into the darkness. Rodney follows, and suddenly, John stops outside of a door. “Is this it?” Rodney asks, but he already knows the answer to the question. He slides his hand over the crystal, but the door doesn’t budge, not that Rodney expected it to. “Okay,” he says, and his voice is gentle now, perhaps more gentle than it’s ever been, but there’s something about the pinched look on John’s face that honestly, truly worries him. It reminds him of how he looked on the jumper, right before he, you know, passed out. He checks his tablet, but he knows it’s a moot point because the city is off-line down here, which is why they never knew there was a problem. The sensors just don’t reach this far, but he thinks he should be able to still get the door open. “John,” Rodney says, and there’s no response. “John.” But John seems not to hear him as he reaches for the door, fingers gripping the edge as he tries, desperately, to pull it open. “Oh, oh. Yes.” Rodney puts the tablet down carefully and he moves to the other side, glancing at John to follow his lead and as John pulls again, the noise that escapes him sends a shiver down Rodney’s spine. He screams as the door finally slides open and now, Rodney notices the blood trickling out of John’s ear, just in time to grab John as he crumples, guiding him to the floor. “Rodney!” Teyla’s voice echoes down the hallway, and Rodney calls back, voice nearing on hystericalas he situates himself below John to pillow his head on his lap. “Here! We’re here!” Ronon comes into view first, gun aimed, followed quickly by Teyla. “We heard screaming, what—John?” “It’s Atlantis!” Rodney says, “She’s using John to communicate, there’s something--.” Ronon needs to hear no more as he slips through the opened door and a second later, there’s the sound of laser fire. Rodney’s petting over John gently, shaking him gently, pleading with him to wake up but it’s to no avail. Teyla has disappeared inside of the room that John brought them to and Rodney risks a fraction of a moment to lean down, letting his lips brush against John’s forehead. “Please, please, please wake up.” John resolutely does not. --- “Did we do it?” He’s somewhere quiet and he’s alone, but he can feel her around him, leaving him warm and comforted, reminding him very much of being wrapped up in his mother’s embrace when he was seven and had the flu. He remembers that because before coming to Atlantis, it was the last time he felt well and

truly loved because she’d died less than three weeks later. You did, and he closes his eyes, letting her warmth wash over him. The pain is gone, both his and hers, he realizes and there’s a feeling of contriteness that settles inside of him, like she’s saying she’s sorry and he guesses she means for basically hijacking his mind. But, as unsettling as it should be, he finds that he’s always known she was there, really. The gentle thrumming, the quiet humming of her power he feels tucked away somewhere in the back of his mind. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, he knows. It’s not just his found family that cares for him, not just Rodney… but her too. There will be no lasting damage, she promises him and the warmth begins to recede, just a bit. To either you or me. But please tell Doctor McKay not to be too angry with me. The darkness is fading now with her and he’s not really sure why she thinks Rodney would be upset with her. He tries to ask, but the feeling of a gentle hand in his hair, a quiet murmuring of voices, breaks through and John closes his eyes, letting it guide him out of the dark. Thank you once again, John Sheppard. You saved us all. --- “—still don’t understand how we didn’t know it was here,” Elizabeth says and Rodney has to fight not to roll his eyes because they’ve been over this, he’s explained it ad nauseum. “The life signs detector is tied in directly with the city’s power grid,” he says exasperatedly and he thinks about reaching for his tablet as a nice visual aide but somewhere along the way, his hand had settled into John’s hair and it’s so soft that he kind of doesn’t want to pull it away. He doesn’t know if it brings John any comfort, but it brings him some, feeling the warmth of the other under his hand and damn if he’ll let anyone take that away from him. Even at the sake of his own sanity for having to go through this again. “That part of the city still doesn’t get any power. No power means it can’t communicate with us. We never would’ve known.” “… never would’ve known what?” The raspy voice from the bed asks and Rodney very nearly topples out of his chair as he yanks his hand back, gaping down at John, and “oh, thank god!” “Wraith,” Ronon says by way of explanation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Rodney supposes maybe it is. After all, at least for right now, it’s the Wraith that’s proved to be their biggest pain in the ass. “Technically, a Wraith transmitter,” Rodney corrects and he can’t quite tear his eyes away. “The Wraith was.. well, indisposed, as it was. How are you feeling?” “What d’y’mean ‘indisposed’?” “It blew itself up when it realized that the room was heavily shielded and that the beacon couldn’t get through,” Ronon says and Rodney glares at him, because he’sthe one who likes to do all the explaining, thank you very much. “Blew a hole in the wall almost the size of a jumper.” “Yes, well,” Rodney says, steering the conversation back, “somehow, there was some sort of a fail safe built into the city’s infrastructure. There was a kind of a force field where the wall used to be, not unlike that of the cells, but with no power, it wouldn’t have held much longer. When it failed, that thing would’ve sent our coordinates to every Wraith hive ship in the galaxy and well, the ruse would’ve been up. But enough about that, how are you feeling?” “Kinda like I got hit by a truck,” John says and he shifts on the bed to sit up a bit more. “The transmitter’s been taken care of?” “Blasted into almost as many pieces as the Wraith,” Ronon says proudly and Teyla squeezes his arm gently. “We are very glad that you are awake, John,” she says diplomatically, “but perhaps it would be best if we let you rest?” “Whaddya mean? That’s all he’s been doing,” Ronon scoffs, but Teyla tugs at his arm anyway, bless her. “Come,” she says. “Elizabeth, perhaps I could help you in your office, go over the schedule for the teams set to search the rest of the city?” And whatever look she shares with Elizabeth has her nodding, turning to give them both a

smile. “Of course, thank you Teyla,” she says and she reaches out for John, squeezing his arm gently. “Good to have you back with us, John.” John lifts a hand in response as everyone filters out, leaving him and Rodney alone. “You’re an idiot,” Rodney says, just because it’s expected of him, has become part of their standard routine whenever John lands himself in the infirmary. “For what?” “Oh, I don’t know, for letting a sentient city scramble your brains.” “She said she’s sorry, you know,” John says and Rodney rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. And when did we decide that she was a sheafter all? I suppose it makes sense, what with the way women across twogalaxies fawn over you, the famous Colonel Kirk.” “It’s okay to be jealous, Rodney.” “Excuse me? I am not jealous! I just think it’s a little funny that--.” “She even said she hopes you’re not too mad at her,” John interrupts. “What? Why would she care about that?” “I dunno,” he shrugs and he lays back against the pillow, closing his eyes. “Guess she knows how important you are to me. Probably wouldn’t wanna get in your bad graces…” He still can’t get used to this, this… thing. Where they care about each other, but have finally matured enough emotionally to say it out loud. “Yes well,” Rodney sniffs, and settles his hand back against John’s hair, “I’ll forgive her this time. But you tell that harlot--!” “Rodney,” John groans, “she said she’s sorry.” “Alright, alright,” he says and he leans forward, maybe a bit hesitantly, before he presses his lips against John’s. “I’m just… glad you’re okay.” “Yeah,” John agrees. “Me too, buddy. Now how about less talking and more hair petting?” Frankly, there’s nowhere else Rodney would rather be. “Go back to sleep, dummy.” “With pleasure.”

[give-grian-rights]

Bets Against The Void (Whitelist AU)

Well.. I DID IT. This is only chapter 1. I planned on this being a one-shot, but if it was, it would take me so long to finish it. So, chapters it is.

This is crossposted on AO3. I don’t exactly stand with a lot of what it’s doing, but it’s not particularly easy to find fics on Tumblr I feel..and I will never go back to Wattpad. Not again.

@petrichormeraki Whitelist AU fic :)

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

They had just left the server to practice for MCC, that was all. Wilbur would be so proud, the two youngest would be sure, if they managed to win one. For Tommy, it would be his first win not aided by his  (Troubled, distrustful, anarchist-)  family, and Tubbo’s first-ever. 

Teams for the next MCC had yet to be announced, but it hadn’t mattered. Tommy had been invited back to every competition since MCC 2, after all- and the competition had already become accommodating to Tubbo, following the..Circumstances, of The Festival. 

The admins hosting the event were concerned, following the events they’d hear of about their server. They hadn’t known much; no one outside their world, really did. But, well..When asked about the status of Wilbur, and if he’d attend- the silence and reaction of the residents of his world were telling.

Barely a handful of players were at the server, practicing. It was calming, for the teenagers. The two had primarily stuck together, as they tended to do after the Pogtopia-Manburg war. The siblings were back together again. And they had each other- they trusted each other, unquestionably. Something more than they could say about anyone else.

By the time they made it back to the world hub, they were already exhausted. The timezone of their server would be late, they were sure. Their arms ached, and legs wobbled with every step. They both felt as if they could fall down, anytime.

Tubbo’s arm was looped around Tommy’s, content to be in the presence of his best friend, without the responsibility of the world on either of their shoulders’. Other players had barely batted an eye at the two- it wasn’t uncommon for teenagers or children to server hop by themselves. Nor for someone passing through a world hub to have outlandish and otherworldly scars. For them to both be teenagers, and scarred so heavily- well, that was a different story.

Still, not a soul stopped them as the tall blond led his friend to a nearby empty portal. As they stood still, Tubbo instinctively released his arm from the boy. Tommy kept Tubbo grounded to him as he worked, talking idly to them and inquiring about build plans. As Tubbo talked, Tommy quickly fidgeted with his communication tablet.

The thin, hovering device was pressed against the large obsidian frame of an otherwise normal, unlit portal.  Pressing out of his inventory, which by mandatory was empty, Tommy opened his server list. The individually named servers popped up. 

Some servers were empty, others grayed out and unavailable, no longer tended to. Muscle memory brought him to Dream SMP.  The status of the server was buffering- it’s availability of connection unclear. It wasn’t unusual- not for world hubs filled with tens of thousands of players at any given time.

With their SMP selected, the portal flickered for a moment- sparks of neon green rippling within, before quickly fading. The whooshes and crackling of a portal being lit, before failing, caught Tubbo’s ears.

“Uh...Is- is the portal good? Did it light? Why does it feel like it’s uh- not?” They tilted his head to the side, towards Tommy. The blond paused for a moment, blinking in bewilderment with his brows furrowed. “No- no it’s not lit..Uh.. What the shit? Hold on, Tubbo-” he huffed, pulling his tablet off the obsidian wall with ease to inspect it.

Blue eyes squinted at the screen. At the edge of the selection for Dream SMP, was an error sign, much to Tommy’s slight horror. “Fucking..Shit-” he hissed, pressing the icon. “‘Server closed for maintence’- what the fuck!” The teen spat. That got a few heads turned him, at his shouts. Most continued walking, merely giving him a wary glance.

Tubbo’s mouth dropped, scrambling for words. “Wh- why? I- I mean, I guess it makes sense- the- the server’s been acting up, and stuff- but- with what noticed?” He squawked, fumbling with their own device. Gliding their hand over the graphics, each thing he touched was read aloud to him quietly in his comm systems.

While Tubbo worked on locating his own messages, Tommy already found his. He scoffed indignantly, his hand clenching at the frame of the tablet. “The chat system for the server’s down too! Holy shit, fucking- what? Were no one fucking prepared for if we all get knocked out of the server at once? What the fuck!” Slight panic edged into his angered words as he shouted.

“Guess not,” Tubbo shrugged, pushing his tablet away, already frustrated with it. “Did Dream send out any sort of alert, for this?” Tommy only scoffed. The brunnett was sure he was rolling his eyes, as well. “Yeah, with a three-minute fuckin’ notice!  Just told everyone to figure it out for themselves, while he fixed shit! What a lil bitch!”

Glares were most certainly being sent towards them by now, Tubbo was sure. Gently pressing himself against the visibly upset and angered boy, he looped their arms back together, reassuringly squeezing his hand.. “We should get out of the way. I’m sure other people are waiting, there’s nothing we can do.” The brunett resigned himself to being the level-headed one between them.

“We can’t just fucking stay here, Tubbo! We ain’t got shit to eat, or anything. It’s not exactly like we thought of packing shit for a few hours of practicing!” The boy protested. He had just gotten L’manburg back, finally, a place he and his Tubbo were okay.

After a moment of silence, Tubbo would speak up once more. “I started installing some more, uh..Hack clients-” “TUBBO WHAT THE SHIT!” “Please, I’d really like to not get in major trouble today.” They’d wince, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. The feeling of stares lingered on his back.

“I got a client that should let me into the world last opened on a portal- which, in this case, should be Dream’s server. So we can get on there and- “Call Dream a dick.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t think it’s dangerous, or unstable or anything to be there..I’m sure he and the rest of Dream Team are there.”

Walking back to the portal, guiding Tubbo back with him, Tommy unattached his own device from the frame. “Uh, want me to put yours on the portal? Or do you got it, Big Man?” The blond tilted his head towards the other boy expectantly.

Dipping their head in thought for a moment, Tubbo hummed. “You can do it. It’s all set up- besides I already turned my text-to-speech off, I was getting a headache from the voice.”  They decided, handing off his tablet to Tommy.

Within moments, Tommy had gotten it set up. Rather than having an individual server selected, the “Connect” button had been highlighted as seen as he reached his friend’s serverlist. 

A flurry of colors splashed within the portal, before settling on a distorting purple. Tommy squinted, glancing towards Tubbo. “That..Does not look like Dream’s server color.” Tubbo tilted his head curiously. “Well.. The site did say it could do that- It’s kinda just ripping the IP and plugging it in illigitmently- it’s incapable of displaying the correct resource, basically.” He played with his friend’s sleeve idly.

“..Fucking- alright, sure. Assuming this is safe- are you ready to hop in?” He pushed down any doubts. Really, nothing worse than what the two already lived through could happen. Tubbo grinned, nodding their head. And so, Tommy led the boy into the portal alongside him. Swirling particles filled his vision, as they flurried around the two- and then they were stumbling to the ground.

Tommy’s eyes shot opened- a dull, thudding pain in the back of his head, as he got his footing. Tubbo was doing the same, losing his hold on Tommy to lean against the portal frame to catch himself.  “...Well. Fuck.” Tommy hissed, rubbing his temple as he looked around the room.

The large portal behind them had dropped them into a large, pyramid-shaped room. The floor below them was sandy, greenery and bookshelves pressed against the walls. Tommy’s mouth dropped to the floor as he viewed ahead of him.

“W-What the fuck! What the shit these people- th-there’s just! Diamond armor!  On display - t-they have fucking elytras!  Holy fucking shit! ” He stammered out the words, his brows furrowed together in complete bewilderment.

“What? That’s insane!..This- this sounds like an ocean? Why can I hear water? Are we on an island?” Tubbo warily stepped, testing his footing.

Tommy instinctively reached back to grab his friend’s hand protectively, nodding vigorously. “I think we’re fuckin’ underwater, or some shit! There’s a water column, and- and the walls fuckin’ tilt, and then it’s all water and shit! The ceiling is just the ocean!”

..Descriptions never seemed to be Tommy’s strong suit. Nonetheless, Tubbo nodded along to the words, warily listening. All that could be heard was the crashing water overhead the water-bound structure. The boy shivered with unease at this.

“Are there any players? Did- did us joining get sent through the comm system, do you think?” Tubbo summoned his comm’s back to his hands, but Tommy must’ve already had his out. “Fuckin- i’m still connected to Dream’s. It didn’t give me the option to look at whoever the fuck’s this is. Tommy growled, uneasiness and anxiety gnawing at him.

 And then, there was a flash of light and particles. A man in a..Bee-themed, space/futuristic-Esque suit appears on the other side of the room. Another, far more mundane seeming man, manifested next to him.

The energy in the room shifted to something unfamiliar to the two teens. Tubbo shivered, desperately grasping tighter at Tommy. The blond boy had stood rigid, blue eyes cold and wary as he stared challengingly at the two strangers.

While the helmeted, bee-colored man visibly had plates of enchanted Netherite glittering on him, the human beside him was bare of any protection, defenses, or armor.   The teen didn’t know what to make of either of them.

Pacifyingly holding up a weaponless hand, the helmet man cleared his throat. “We weren’t particularly expecting visitors, or any surprise drop-ins this late to our season.” Their voice wasn’t accusatory, but it certainly edged on the skeptical side

From the yellow-tinted helmet, Tommy could barely make out a faint reflection of light in purple eyes. His throat felt full of vile, the blond boy practically growling as he held he pushed himself in front of Tubbo.

In retaliation, Tubbo gently shouldered the boy before poking out beside him, facing vaguely towards the man who spoke. “I’m sorry for him- this..This is an accident, uh, Sir.” They chuckled anxiously.

The helmeted man- who by now, Tommy had presumed was the admin- tilted his head. “While accidents aren’t necessarily uncommon on a server such as ours- one quite like this, so far into our progress certainly is.” The Southern fellow beside the bee-helmet man spoke up, his expression passive and at ease as he stared over the boys.

“You two don’t look like you’re here to give us issues- don’t you agree, X?” The helme-  X,  apparently- surveyed the two teenagers for a moment more, before nodding. “Good, then.” The human(?) smiled, dipping his head.

Tommy scoffed, glaring at the man.  “Where the fuck are we?” The blond’s eyes flickered between the two adults stood opposite of them. While the man remained unphased, glancing expectantly at X- said player took a step back, tilting their head.

“Well, considering there’s not really a way to  accidentally derp your way into here- I’d expect you’d know.” While X wasn’t unkind, his tone was expectant. Accusatory, maybe. 

Before Tommy could open his mouth to blabber and cover their asses, Tubbo put his arm out in front of the other. “It really was an..An accident- it wasn’t this server we were trying to get into- wherever we are.” He’d chuckle uneasily, shifting their weight. They weren’t sure what to make of their unknown surroundings.

“Our home-server seems to be down.. And- no one told us where to go,  so I said i knew a way we might be able to go back, and uh..It got us here.”  They’d finish, anxiety spiking as he was unable to gauge their reaction.

“Yeah- and we’re not gonna fuckin’ do shit. We don’t even know where the fuck we are. Just- leave us be!  Or send us back, or some shit-” “Alright, alright! Hey, we’re not fighting with you!” X would cut off Tommy, who’s blue eyes shot a cold glare to the slightly frazzled man.

The younger Brit couldn’t help but get amusement from the way the masked man was so visibly startled from his swears. “You two..Don’t particularly look in the condition to just.. stay in the World Hub. Do you have someplace else to go? How long have you been locked out?” 

Beside the apparent Admin, who had not-so-subtly manifested a transparent screen in front of him, the human looked in exasperated amusement at the helmeted fellow. “Forgetting something there, Shashwammy?” The Southern man spoke with fondness.

Before the admin could react, the man turned back towards the accidental intruders. “You’re in the wonderful world of hermits and crafting, my friends! Hermitcraft Seven, to be specific. I’m Joe, of the Hills variety- and this is my pal, Xisumavoid! Though he’ll likely go by just about anything you can think to call him.”

Tommy looked beside him at Tubbo for a moment, his brows pinched together as he quietly scoffed. This is gonna get really tiring if he talks like this all the time. The blond thought absentmindedly.

In the meantime, Tubbo himself was speechless- positively bursting at the seams. “Hermitcraft?! This is Hermitcraft? Oh, oh void I just broke into Hermitcraft-” They babbled for a moment, jittering as he attempted to compose himself. Tommy raised a brow, eyeing them. 

“You say that as if that means fuckin’ anything to me, Tubbo-”

“I. I’m so sorry, uh, Mr. Hills, Mr. Void!” Their voice cracked, as the words ran out of his mouth. “I swear this isn’t something we do on the regular, I’d never want to disrespect anyone, or any server- especially not Hermitcraft!” He’d continue, laughing anxiously. 

“I’m a huge fan of the work done here! Just, everything I’ve seen- uh, and, and heard, about the Hermits! Fu- frick. Uh. Sorry!”  Tubbo finished, practically panting. 

While Joe had seemed appreciative and amused, Tommy couldn’t get a read on Xisuma. Not that he particularly cared what either of them felt; he barely understood the meaning of the words from Tubbo, all that mattered was they weren’t about to belittle the other boy.

“Mr. Void.. That- that might be a new one-” The British admin had quietly chuckled easily, shaking his head. “No, no need for that. I’m Xisuma, or X. I’m glad you appreciate our work, the Hermits around here work non-stop. And we’d be glad to try and help you two, yes?”

“We don’t fuckin’ need help- We stay here, or we don’t. We don’t need pity or some shit. If you’re gonna get all fussy at the fuckin’ idea of us staying in the Worldhub, then just leave us be here, I guess. We don’t need anyone’s help or charity.” Tommy growled, his arms crossed stubbornly. He could hear Tubbo sharply inhale beside him, weakly nudging at his side.

The two inhabitants, Hermits, Tommy mused, seemingly shared a look for a moment. Tommy’s blue eyes were unyielding from them, as Tubbo’s quiet babble of scolding went through deaf ears.

Slowly nodding, the helmeted admin stepped back. “You two don’t have anywhere you could go?” He’d ask, hesitantly. Tommy glanced beside him, at the short, blinded boy. Blue from Ghostbur weakly stained his hands.

No one else outside of Dream SMP had learned about Wilbur’s fate, not yet. That certainly wasn’t a conversation either of them was willing to have yet, with anyone. Dream would be mad. Dream would be furious if word got out on the nature of his server. 

With that thought, Tommy tore his gaze away from his friend. The boy stared as close as he could to the Admin’s eyes, a challenging look in his hardened blue eyes. “Nowhere.”

Xisuma conceded, nodding. “Fine, then.” He agreed, his tone far softer than it had any right to be, from such an imposing figure. Tommy pondered for a moment if the Admin was taller than him. The possibility made Tommy feel all the more disdain towards him.

Tommy tilted his head, watching expectantly. “Well then? Can we just be- be fuckin’ left here, or some shit? We don’t need to be babysat.” “Tommy, please, don’t pick a fight here-” “Yeah, yeah, Tubbo..”

Xisuma winced, nodding. “Sure.. If you want to be left alone, that’s fine. There’s Elytras’ in the room behind us, and rockets in the chest. That’s the only way to get out, besides from the Nether. It should be linked to our Netherhub, so you shouldn’t have too big of a trouble, yeah?”

Tubbo hesitantly nodded, his grip tight around Tommy’s hand. “Alright, then.” Xisuma nodded, glancing towards Joe. Tommy had all but forgotten the man was there, the Southerner having been quietly observing them.  “Joe, you’re free to go, my friend.”

To Tommy’s perspective, Joe certainly seemed to have some reservations. Whether they were about leaving teenagers unattended or leaving strangers in their server, the blond wasn’t sure. Nonetheless, Joe accepted his fate, nodding breezily before enderpearling his way out of the spawn.

Xisuma turned back to the two, one final time. Tommy didn’t miss the way that Xisuma flinched at Tubbo’s large scars, nearly growling when he saw the admin’s reaction.

“You two have been competing in MCC.” That caught Tubbo, off-guard. The brunnett’s brows furrowed together, tilting his head. “Huh? How do you know that-”

“My Hermits have been competing there for a good while. I need to keep track of them all, I haven’t missed the team announcements.” Xisuma explained breezily, something akin to fondness in his tone. “The other Hermits said that they love MCC, and the other participants. And that they trust almost all of them- don’t take advantage of that, alright?”

Quietly scoffing, Tommy looked away. Beside him, Tubbo nodded. “We’ll try- thank you. For letting us stay here, just for now.”

Despite the situation, Tubbo couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy at the idea of being in a Hermitcraft world. He hadn’t been able to hear about, or see anything about their recent achievements in a long while.

“If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. I’ll add you two to the communication connection. Most of the Hermits have a..Tendency of getting themselves in trouble, quite a bit. Don’t be alarmed if someone spawns, they’re almost never here long enough to be dragged in,” He spoke casually, easily. Tommy wondered for a moment what exactly their definition of trouble was.

“Someone will be here to check on you, soon. Don’t get yourselves hurt, please. We’re happy to help here.” He continued, glancing between the two. Tubbo fidgetted, nodding numbly, as he could practically hear Tommy roll his eyes beside him.

Quiet mechanical whirring buzzed as holographic, shimmering bee-like wings expanded behind him.  “Good, then.” Xisuma dipped his head, before familiar red-and-white rockets appeared in his hands.

Before Tommy could lung to cover Tubbo’s ears, Xisuma had already taken off. White particles were left behind him, but the expected boom never came, merely a small pop and smoke. The sight of them, nonetheless, couldn’t help but leave a bitter taste in Tommy’s mouth.

While Tubbo was visibly startled, cringing and nearly tumbling over, he didn’t feel his chest constricting the way it usually would, typically. They’d both consider it a win, for now. Tubbo fell over into Tommy’s arm, as his best friend pulled him into a side hug.

They both slid down against the wall. The conversation alone had taken out all remaining energy they had left in them. Tommy’s gaze surveyed his friend for a moment. “So,” He said pointedly, Tubbo lifting his head to face him.

“What the fuck was that, and what the hell is Hermitcraft?”

[endlinetheredeath]

Arrested

“KEZEKET A LEVEGŐBE!”(Hands in the air!) came a strained raspy voice trough a loudspeaker

I was squinting hard as my eyes adjusted to the harsh light, my right arm still blocking a large portion of it. Nak was looking much worse, his eyes closed, shut tight, both his upper arms blocking as much light as possible, his face contorted in a painful grimace. His eyes likely much more light sensitive than mine trading range for better night vision, evolution in this instance was a bitch to him, the police floodlights must have almost blinded him.

Before i could process what the voice even said i heard a bunch of feet quickly shuffle towards us and in the next moment both of us were tackled to the ground. The team of officers quickly cuffed us, pulled us back to our feet and stuffed us in the patrol cars that were just behind the lights.

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

Time passed and minutes became hours, on the bridge Kiela was getting more and more nervous, pacing back and forth.

“Where IS he, he should have been back long ago...”

The place where Nak had landed on Earth was behind the planets moon at this point as well as they themselves were laying low in orbit of the next planet in the system that they now knew was called Mars and didn’t want to risk discovery just yet, so for now they were blind to what was happening on Earth.

“Try hailing the captain again!” she ordered one of her subordinates

A couple quick clicks could be heard and then...

“Captain this is the Terkwrat, do you copy...”

“... “The line remained silent, the comms officer tried again...

“Captain Nakqr’ this is the Terkwrat, DO you copy?...”

“... “The result was again, the same.

Another 10 minutes pass, the ships scopes all trained on the spot where the shuttle landed on Earth behind the moon, all waiting for the big rock to move so they could finally see. The minutes dragged ever so slowly as the crew nervously waited, then they started to see flashing blue and red lights and the shuttle illuminated by dozens of large harsh white lights. Around the craft they were able to see a small army of people scrambling everywhere... they knew immediately, things have gone terribly wrong in the past couple hours.

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

The cops took us to the nearest police station in separate cars and now i was sitting in an interrogation room, alone and nervous. One of the walls had a huge one-way mirror, I’m sure they are watching me, either waiting for the right moment to burst in to intimidate me the most or are currently trying to get Nak to talk or worse.

“Shit...” i said under my breath. I shifted in the chair lookin around, nervously rubbing my chin.

Out of nowhere the door to the room almost exploded, a detective stood in the doorway. He sighed angrily and stepped into the room. I looked up at him my eyes narrowed slightly my face became serious and I could feel my nervousness pulling back deep within my body. I watched as the detective made his way to the table that i was seated at and sat before me.

“Hol van..”(Where is..) I was cut off by him

“NEM te vagy aki itt a kérdéseket felteszi...”(You are NOT the one who is asking the questions here) he pointed a finger at me “TE szépen válaszolni fogsz minden kérdésre amit felteszek és HA kielégítőnek találom a válaszaid akkor TALÁN nem mész a bíróság elé hazaárulásért...”(YOU will answer my every question that i ask and IF i find your answers satisfactory then MAYBE you wont be put in front of a court for treason...)

“M M MI!? Hazaárulás? Mi a faszt csináltam én, hogy hazaárulással vádol!?”(Wha Wha What?! Treason? What the fuck did i do that you are accusing me with treason.)

“Állami titkokat árultál el ismeretlen erőknek amivel aláástad az ország de talán a bolygó biztonságát.”(You have disclosed state secrets whereby you undermined the security of the country or maybe even the planet.)

“MILYEN ÁLLAMI TITKOKAT, semmilyen titkokról sem tudok. Egy kicseszett szerelő és hobbi pilóta vagyok az isten szerelmére.”(WHAT STATE SECRETS, i don’t know of any secrets. For god’s sake I’m an F-ing mechanic and a hobby pilot.) I sighed  “Ok nézze, igen beszélgettünk jó pár dologról, DE semmi olyat nem tudok s ezáltal semmi olyan ‘érzékenyet’ nem tudok elfecsegni ami ne lenne könnyedén elérhető az interneten, csak kérdezze mag Nakot.”(Ok look, yes we have talked about quite a few things, BUT i don’t know anything that isn’t easily available on the internet therefor i can’t divulge anything that’s ‘sensitive’, just ask Nak.)

The detective looked me over with a cold gaze as i was on my tirade then just said...

“Tehát Nak a neve...” (So it’s name is Nak...) he leaned back in his chair.

I blinked a couple times and lifted my head a little in confusion before saying

“Várjunk csak egy kicsit ... még nem beszéltek vele?”(Wait hold up... you haven’t talked to him yet?

Just as I finished the sentence the door to the interrogation room opened again but this time the figure that stood in the door was less angry and more worried.

“Nyomozó ennek itt és most vége. Tamást most azonnal engedje el az űrlénnyel együtt.”(Detective this ends right here right now. You will release Thomas and the alien this instant.)

“De kapitány...”(But captain...) The police captain held up his hand sharply silencing the detective.

“Semmi de, új fejlemények történtek és ezáltal ez a letartóztatás sosem történt meg, értette!?”(NO buts, new developments happened and thus this arrest never happened, understand?!)

I was led out of the room and into the lobby of the station where I got back my stuff. I stood there dumbfounded to what just happened. After a few minutes Nak was led into the lobby as well, when i saw him i saw that his left shoulder was bandaged and his left upper arm was held up by sling.

“Well this was a first ...” he said as he walked up to me with an officer in tow.

“Wait you speak English?!” said the woman as they came to a halt in front of me. Nak turned to her and sighed.

“Well yes i do speak English with the help of a translator, but you didn’t bother to find that out in the last ... how many hours?”

“ 13 ...We were brought in roughly 13 hours ago ...” I answered his frustrated question. “What happed to you...”

“Well when they tackled us to the ground i hit some rock and felt my arm go limp, turns out my shoulder got dislocated. Don’t worry i should be back to normal in no time...” he said turning away from the officer and back to me with a smile on his face. I smiled and shook my head a little.

“Do you know why they let us go?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer him but before i could the doors of the station were thrown open and a big group of the ships crew flooded inside led by Kiela and followed by a bunch of human diplomats as well as the minister of defense.

“There you two are. By the Gods, are you ok captain?!” she said as she marched up.

Turns out once the crew realized what happened they scrambled together a diplomatic team mostly consisting of the department heads on the ship and contacted the Hungarian government. They got us out, but by doing that they basically announced to the whole planet that yes in fact humanity is not alone in the universe, not by a longshot. Now Humanity knew that not just aliens existed but that there is an intergalactic federation.

Yeah...things are going to get interesting ... i hope we don’t F it up.

[crab-instruments]

Dust in the Wind Part 5 (tbb)

Master <Part 4 Part 6>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: General audience, fighting, injury, panic/stress

Words: 2.2k

a/n: Action! We fight some people. Notes at the end. I hope the action is somewhat easy to follow and interesting.

My writing process involves me thinking of fight scenes as I listen to music while I walk, this one is choreographed to Rat A Tat by Fall Out Boy. This is unimportant and uninteresting but is how I get a lot of my ideas.

Surprisingly, this is the longest part of written and I cut it short. Thanks for all the likes and reblogs, y'all. Keeps me going.

Cid had given the Batch a mission to the Outer Rim. Tech had told the squad what planet but you had zoned out. Restarting your life every time something goes south was taking a toll on you and while your new crew was accommodating, it didn’t stop the stress of existing. You had gotten closer with the Batch on the trip to the next mission since it was a bit further out and you had time to get to comfortable. Wrecker and Omega seemed to enjoy your company the most, wanting to play games and share stories with you. Otherwise you helped Tech and Echo around the ship and chatted with them. Down times were spent with Hunter in the cockpit, watching hyperspace.

“Maxis… do you know how to sew?” Wrecker had caught you outside the armory, holding something behind his back.

You blinked, not used to seeing Wrecker so timid. “Uh yeah, I can sew. What do you need?” With a swift movement, he brought a red and black tooka doll between you. One of the arms had a rip in it, showing the stuffing inside.

His eyes looked sad as he said, “Lula got caught on a hook.”

“Ah, that should be easy. I can patch Lula up while you’re on your mission, so she’ll be ready when you get back.”

Wrecker smiled wide and pulled you into a hug. When you separated, he then held Lula out for you to take. As your hand touched the doll, your senses were overwhelmed with a rush of emotions and your head filled with memories that the doll contained. It stunned you for a moment and you had to close your eyes, not having experienced a force echo in a while. Luckily none of the memories were traumatic, just loud since Wrecker had strong emotions.

“Are you okay, Maxis?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking how cute Lula was,” you said with a smile.

The time between taking Lula from Wrecker and entering the planet’s atmosphere was fuzzy. Your mind was still on experiencing the force echo. Psychometry was a force ability that few Jedi had but most of the time it was a pain. You had to train a lot to get it under control when you were younger and when people found out about it, they wanted to do study you and learn everything about it they could. Since you had left the Jedi life and mostly disconnected with the Force, the echoes had dissipated. Having one suddenly didn’t sit well.

Tech’s voice grounded you back to the present as he alerted everyone he was landing the ship soon. Hunter appeared in the seat across from you, something in his hand. “This mission shouldn’t take very long, just a few hours. Here’s a comm, we will let you know when we are on our way back or if something goes wrong. I know you can’t fly but it would be useful if you could get the ship ready in case we need to leave in a hurry.” You nodded and took the comm. “Will you be okay, Maxis? I did say this would be dangerous. Although it’s unlikely, they could come to scout the Marauder.”

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong on my end I can let you know as well, though I bet the worst thing is I prick my finger sewing Lula together or shock myself with a live wire.” Hunter’s face softened and he seemed to relax a bit. Your eyes held his until the ship shook when it landed. When he got up, he put his hand on your shoulder for a moment before getting ready to head out.

You watched as they shuffled out of the ship, saying a quiet “be safe, please,” as they disappeared from your view.

The reality of being by yourself seemed to set in, making the Marauder daunting. There was Gonky, at least. Shaking that off, you settled in and got to work fixing up Lula’s arm. You made quick work, almost wishing you had more to work on. Taking apart the ship to make repairs was risky if they needed to leave quickly.

Slumping back in your chair, you held Lula in front of you. “What do you think I should do, Lula? I could go clean the air filter or organize the wires in one of the control panels, even though Tech does a pretty good job at color coding them. A few of the sensors could be looked at but… I’m still a little stumped on… why I got a force echo from you. You are special, I’m sure, but… I guess I could meditate for a bit, see if that helps clear things up.”

You crossed your legs in the chair and put Lula in your lap. Meditating was supposed to be relaxing, but it was harder to find a calm now. It felt empty, in a way. You tried hard though, seeking an answer as to why now.

After a few moments, your eyes shot open. Something was wrong. You gasped for breath the feeling of overwhelming apprehension. Someone was heading toward the ship. Three, maybe four, people and they didn’t feel like your crew. Hunter did say he would alert you when they came back and it hasn’t been that long.

Swiftly, you got to your feet and headed towards the cockpit where the comm was still sitting on a chair. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a white bucket helmet walk around the front of the ship through the windshield. Troopers. Your heart pounded in your ears and you sank quickly to the floor. The fear of being caught by the Empire was arguably your biggest fear, they hunted Jedi ruthlessly, even hearing about troopers trained to fight Jedi specifically.

A noise came from where the entrance ramp was, they were trying to get on the ship. You remembered that Tech had told you about an escape hatch in the cockpit, so you quietly crawled to it and lifted it up. You did your best to make sure that you were in the clear and dropped down.

“Dank farrik! It’ll be another minute to open the hatch,” one of the troopers exclaimed. It seemed the others were spread out around the area, so making a run for it wasn’t necessarily the smartest decision but taking on four troopers by yourself wasn’t wise either. Close quarters combat was a strength of yours, training to not depend on your lightsaber was a priority for your Master. Long range combat would be more of a struggle, as your shooting accuracy left something to be desired. One of the reasons you ended up leaving the Order was it became less about peace keeping and more about being a soldier, and the senseless death had caught up to you.

You did your best to keep calm. Everything in your body told you to run, escape, survive, but… what about the ship? This was your home now. Hunter… the squad… depended on this ship. If you didn’t do something to protect it, what would happen?

Unfortunately for you, the choice to run or fight was taken from you, when the trooper noticed you crouching by the front of the ship.

“Hey! Foun—” before he could finish his sentence, you rushed him. The trooper had his blaster pulled out when he saw you. You used the element of surprise to go for a disarm, checking his blaster arm with your left, getting your right hand on the opposite side to redirect his hand. The blaster clearing your stomach as you brought your right arm across your body. While sweeping with your right, you used your left to get a grip of his wrist. With this, you were able to free your right hand to strip the blaster from him, squeezing his wrist to force his hand lose and you were able to swipe it out of his grasp. Once the blaster was out of his hand, you pulled his left arm back, hooked your foot behind his right to destabilize him, and then gripped the front of his armor tightly to put as much power as you could into pushing him into the ground, you kneeling next to him. While not quiet strong enough to knock him out, it was enough to stun him for a moment since you used his and your weight against him.

You heard a movement behind the ship, the other troopers had been alerted. Scrambling for the blaster, you switched it to stun and shot twice, knocking out one trooper. The third trooper came from around the front of the ship and shot. You had just enough time to twist your body and dodge a majority of the shot, but it still skinned your left arm, leaving a nice wound for later. Two more shots from you to knock him out.

While your arm screamed in pain, you had one last trooper to deal with. Keeping crouched, you rounded the front of the ship.

“Freeze!” The trooper was right in front of you and you were staring down the barrel. Kark! Slowly, you put your hands up in a half surrender, but in that moment you thought of a plan.

“Catch!” You tossed the blaster towards him and the trooper, confused, went to catch it. You pulled your knife out of your thigh holster and rushed him. Using his now bent knee, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his mid-section, using the boost of the jump to shove him to the ground. You pressed the blade to his neck, ready, but hesitated. You couldn’t follow through, even when your life seemed to depend on it.

No good deed goes unpunished. The trooper pushed you off but you land within arms reach of your fallen blaster and you made quick work of stunning him.

For a moment, you sat there, breathing heavily and you hands shaking. Your pulse raged in your ears and adrenaline rushed through your veins.

Achievement Unlocked: You protected the Havoc Marauder! But now what? And what if… the squad finds out? Something about them knowing you took down the troopers didn’t sit right. The odds were stacked against you, what if they start getting suspicious? What if… What if Hunter gets mad?

Checking the trooper in front of you, you found a pair of handcuffs. More than likely they would all have handcuffs and you could move their bodies away from the ship, effectively disposing of them.

One by one, you dragged the troopers bodies away, putting them in some foliage after handcuffing one arm and the opposite ankle behind their back. Hopefully this would keep them relatively immobilized when they woke up. After moving the last one, you could no longer handle the pain of the blaster shot and headed to the ship.

You looked for the med kit and handled it with shaky hands. After applying the bacta and patching it up, you did your best to hide the wound with your sleeve. You then went to your backpack and grabbed the small notebook and pencil. Something about writing felt better than using a holopad, so this is where you kept your notes for supplies and such. Though it was difficult, you wrote ‘bacta and bandages’ to your supplies list. Hopefully they wouldn’t get mad at you using their supplies but just in case, you would just silently replace it. No one would know.

As everything seemed to wear off, all you wanted to do was crawl into a small area and hide. You found an area between some crates and sank down, willing yourself to melt into the floor. In an effort to calm yourself, you muttered a few bars of the song that had stuck with you.

“♪ Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind ♪”

A beep cut into your thoughts. “Maxis, come in, do you read me?” Hearing his voice, you became renewed with a sort of energy. You stood up, walked over to the cockpit once more, and grabbed the comm. “Loud and clear, Hunter.”

“Great, we’re done and on our way back, we had a small set back but no other problems.”

“I’ll start up the ship for you.”

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

When Hunter and the squad got close, Hunter sense something was off. He signaled for the group to halt as he went to go investigate. Hearing some slow breathing from a few sources, he approached the bush carefully and paused when he noticed four knocked out troopers tied up chaotically. Tech noticed Hunter’s hesitation and walked forward.

“What did you fin—Oh. How did four Imperial Troopers end up here? You don’t supposed they went for the Marauder and Maxis took them out?”

“Who else would have? Four troopers… they have the strength to take out four troopers by themselves?” Hunter sounded bewildered. He finally looked at Tech, “Maxis didn’t attempt to alert us and I missed it, did they?”

“No, but it could have been inconvenient at the time. However, there wouldn’t be a reason why they wouldn’t have contacted us after dealing with the situation. Perhaps something else went wrong.”

With that, Hunter signaled the rest of the crew to board the ship with caution.

Part 6 _______________________________________________________

Notes:

Psychometry/Force Echo: This is the next Jedi Fallen Order reference, also seen in 1 or 2 episodes of TCW. I based the reader's ability from the game. Fight scene choreo: Warning, video contains fighting scenes. I love MGS and specifically the CQC in MGSV. For this scene, the first disarm is a combo of the moves described in 1:08 (beginning) and 4:01 (ending). It was mainly supposed to be the second one but the arms are switched so as an artist of my craft, I must adapt. The last move is mostly just the Peter Pan jump from 5:23. I tried to describe the action as best as I could without being like "left right must left right" but here is the visual aspect of it.

[shadoedseptmbr]

fic post

So it’s Shepard’s Birthday, April 11th.  And I wasn’t going to post anything but I had a wild hair this morning and now I’ve got a ficlet!  

2185 Earthside

Commander Alenko was staring down at the package in his hand in confusion when his comms pinged.  “Yeah?”

“Message from the Citadel. Captain Anderson for you, sir.”

*Anderson?*  “Sure, patch him through, Pachi.”  He glanced up at the vid screen, the signal a little scrambled from the dust storm that was raging in the atmosphere above the outpost.  “Afternoon, Captain.  It’s nice to hear from you.”

“Staff Commander!  Kaidan you look good.  I’m sorry I couldn’t get away for your promotion ceremony.”  

“Ah, Thanks. My folks got to be there, again. Mom got to do the honors, so it was...it was good. Captain, do I have you to thank for this?”  He held up a small, beautifully blown bottle of exceedingly expensive whisky.  A Japanese brand that he’d only seen on tasting menus.  

The man’s broad face split in a grin.  “I had it set to let me know when it was delivered.  Hope you don’t mind me presuming.”  

“We’re off on a training maneuver tomorrow, I’m just glad I was here to pick it up.  This is a really nice gesture, sir.” A little confusing.  Anderson had pinned his oakleaves for Lieutenant Commander after the debrief was over, before...before Shepard’s memorial but Kaidan really hadn’t expected him to take much interest in his career, now that...well.  

It had been almost 2 years. 

“Honestly, Alenko, it’s not just for that, though it’s a nice coincidence.  No.  You know what today is, right?”

“Thursday, where I am.  April eleventh, by the old calendar. April...Oh.”  Kaidan stared off.  “It's her birthday.”  There’s a flash of a memory; the uncertain look in wide grey eyes as he handed her a beer from his private stash, a devil may care grin plastered on as she turned back to the crew she’d been sidling away from.  Her fingers lingering on his, just for a second, as she turned. 

Kaidan had to suck in a breath.  

“Yeah.  Forgive an old man, I wanted to share a drink with the one person I figured would care. Missed you last year, you were on mission.” 

He had been. Kaidan frowned, staring down at the bottle.  He could think of a couple of others who’d miss her, too.  But…

“Sir, I’m…” Honored seemed like the wrong word. “I’d like that. Give me a second.”  It’s only two in the afternoon and he’s got preliminary meetings until dark.  But he’ll...figure it out.   He glanced around his quarters and spied the tea he’d just finished when the private had dropped the package off. He tossed the remaining drips out the door and cracked the red wax seal on the bottle.

When he looked back at the screen, Anderson was staring down into a glass highball, a couple fingers of amber liquid clinging to the glass as he turned it slowly in his hand.  Maybe it was the tricky connection, but he looked...tired.

He jostled out of his reverie as soon as Kaidan spoke.  “Ready, sir.”

Anderson held his glass up a few million klicks across the galaxy. “Aedan Shepard.  Damn few like her.  Pain in my ass and a goddamned delight. Kid, I...I think if you were here you’d be kicking our asses for moping.  But, you’re not.  So…” He paused a long second and cleared his throat. “Fair winds and following seas, Commander.”  He clinked the glass against his vid screen and Kaidan did the same. 

 “Aedan Shepard.”  The whiskey was a line of smooth fire down his throat, burning past the knot and...well, he could blame it for the burn in his eyes, too.  He hadn’t had much more than a beer in months.  He hadn’t dreamed of her in...not quite that long.  

They finished their drinks in companionable silence before a ping on Anderson’s end brought it to a close.  Kaidan stared at the bottle after the screen went dark. Still a few drinks left in it.  

Considered.  She really would have kicked his ass for moping when there was work to do.

He popped open his footlocker, pulled out a wool sweater and wrapped the bottle carefully. It was packed down at the bottom before he left his quarters. 

2186 SSV Normandy SR2

“I cannot fucking believe you called me from a fucking warzone for this.  How do you even know what day it is, Boss?”  

Kaidan couldn’t keep the grin from his face at the fond exasperation in her voice from the comm room.  Anderson’s figure flickered in front of her, a mirroring grin splitting his own face.  He chuckled as a mug appeared in his hand from off vid.  “One of my staff celebrated Easter last weekend. Figured it was probably about the right day.”

Aedan glanced back as the glasses in his hand clinked against each other.  “What the...Kaidan…”

 He bussed her on the cheek. “Be still for five minutes and let us have this.”

“You’re both lunatics.”  But she took the glass he handed her and cackled as the spirit hit her nose.  “This cost more than my rifle, didn’t it?”

“Might have.  Enjoy it, because I think mine was made in a boot.” Anderson sniffed it and winced.  “An old boot. With the foot still in it.” He lifted his mug.  “Kid…”

“Oh, god, here we go,” she muttered and Kaidan stepped on her tapping foot.

“Nah.  I’m not gonna make you blush, as fun as it...”  A burst of fire broke not too far away and Anderson shook his head.  “Damn it. Happy birthday, Shepard.  Many more, all right?” He drained off his drink as they did the same.

“Okay.”  An explosion flickered and she scowled, Kaidan could feel tension radiating from her. “You got this?”

“Yeah, kid.  Don’t start worrying about me now, it’ll make me nervous.”  

“Give ‘em hell, Anderson.”  Kaidan lifted his empty glass.  

“Bet on it, Major.”

“We’ll be back, soon.”  Aedan promised as the image flickered out.  “Goddamn it.”  Her knuckles were white as they clenched on the railing around the QEC platform as if she’d have launched herself over it, to get back to him, given a hint that physics wouldn’t stop her.

“Hey.”  Kaidan turned her towards him and set their glasses down.  “He asked me to make sure you had a decent couple of hours if we couldn’t get back to the Citadel for a break.”  

“Kaidan…”

“Nope.  There’s a deck full of crew and a cake the size of your MAKO in the mess.”  

She glanced past him.  The war room was nearly empty and she leaned her head against his chest.  “It’s not the best…”

The frustrated noise he made stopped her. “I promised myself that I would never let you miss this day, again.  If I got the chance.  If we…”  He tipped her chin up.  “It’s a good day for me, the day you came into the world, okay?”

Her expression softened.  “Oh.”  She pressed up to kiss him, gently, before adding, “Uh...you know it’s just a day picked out of a hat, right?  I didn’t have like...a birth certificate or anything.”  

“Maybe so.  But still...cake.”  He kissed the tip of her nose and chuckled when she wrinkled it at the scrape of his stubble.

“And beer, too?” Aedan asked, hope in her voice

“Might be, you’ll have to come find out.”  Her long fingers laced with his reminded him of that fleeting touch. Years ago, now.  That first indication that maybe...maybe she felt something like...Kaidan tightened his hand around hers.

“Just for you, I guess.” She let him lead her down out of the comm room but she glanced back over her shoulder to the glasses on the rail.   

He heard her whisper, “Take care, Boss.”

[accursedkaleeshi]

Hondo Has the Opposite of a Crisis of Honor

3K word fic about a job Hondo Ohnaka ran for Kalee earlier in his career & his later wartime run-in with General Grievous.

Business was on a steady incline for Hondo Ohnaka. He had escaped slavery, poverty, the Hutts & now, as planned he would escape the attention of authority. What kind of authority? All kinds, of course. He was a self-made man. An entrepreneur & a leader. His gang, made mostly of fellow Weequay, were operating just as ordered; The Ohnaka Gang! Yes, things were going most swimmingly. For his crew to flourish they had to fly low & strike fast, as his mother would have said.

While they worked up their spice sources, doing good work in front of other backroom businessmen would help get their name out into the right circles of the galaxy. The open ended bid from the planet Kalee for smugglers was a tip top opportunity. The Galactic Republic had brought embargos down on Kalee hard & they had no choice but to turn to underhanded humanitarians (for lack of a better word). Many other gangs & syndicates showed hesitation: the distance, the environment, & the natives all had reputations for being dangerous. Nonsense!, Hondo had thought, We will do it & we will do it with good deals. The Ohnaka Gang could come out looking quite good from this & so very far from the core worlds. Out there was little in the way of pesky patrols that might get their names out into the wrong circles of the galaxy.

From the relative safety of one of his classic Weequay ships, Hondo fixed himself a drink. He flipped on the vidscreen to a call from Kalee & spread himself over his seat. Between his antique rig & their equally antiquated tech, the signal was a bit scrambled.

“Hold on, hold on,” he relayed whilst he threw a cork bottle stopper at his young pet Kowakian monkey-lizard, “Mukmuk, help me out.” Stirred into action, Mukmuk squawked a pompous little laugh but begrudgingly leapt from his perch. The monkey-lizard gave the comms unit a couple good smacks that echoed against the casing but seemed to do the trick. The screen righted itself but the color flickered on & off. At this Hondo opened his arms in a greeting gesture. “Trade Captain Blys’aan! My most beautiful 4th quadrant customer!” he exclaimed jovially, “Your run has departed as planned. You would like more good news, yes-?”

He was interrupted by his contact.

“Save ya wiles for yer core clients, Ohnaka,” Blys’aan said, the audio coming in uncorrupted. She had a thick but warm foreign accent &, although her voice was just as jubilant as Hondo’s, her words were often sharp. The both of them knew very well he did not have clients on the core worlds, not at this point in his sure to be illustrious career. “We givin ya what we agreed,” she said amenably. It was hard to describe how her voice matched her visage. Warm & welcoming, perhaps, but with a sharp wolfish wit about her. A fellow businessman.

“An don’t you go try an upsellin my boys at Hakaleel, eh?” Blys’aan had barked this as if chiding a child. As she spoke she seemed to be sorting or washing vegetables. Her motion would leave artifacts as the vidscreen dropped in & out of monochrome. This Kaleeshi woman had such a vibrant green scales that her form would blend into her backdrop of some lush foreign jungle. Only when she began peeling things did Hondo recognize the vegetable (a popular, cheap export). Consequently, he realized it seemed small in her clawed hands & that Kaleesh must be larger than the average humanoid species. This did not worry him, of course, there was no reason to make things difficult.

“You know we can’t be affording more,” she had added. Hondo knew this to be relatively true. Kalee had next to nothing in the way of recognized galactic currency but Hondo always preferred to trade in goods. Most of what the Kaleesh had been trading to the other smugglers were caches of liberated Yam’rii weapons & tech as well as Kaleeshi people willing to find work off planet. Hondo was sure the Kaleesh made for excellent crew & security but, not to be exclusive, he had his own theme going.

The Ohnaka gang got a few caches of alien weapons but they didn’t mind trading in some of Kalee’s native goods. These were composed largely of animal products: feathers, hides, cuts, live specimens, & bones. Lots & lots of bones. Raw or crafted into traditional pieces of masks or weaponry. It made sense that other less cultured crews referred to the Kaleesh as bone lizards. Hondo knew he could tremendously upsell these to any would-be trophy hunter or self-proclaimed mystic looking for exotic trinkets. Kalee was on the edge of the civilized galaxy & considered to be in wild space; it was legitimately exotic. He would barter these for basic supplies that Kalee seemed to need most of all until such time it ceased to be profitable. Therefore the smiling & nodding he was doing was not at all a lie. For now.

“Tell ya lads t’ be behavin’ themselves on planet,” Blys’aan followed. Her voice suddenly went up half an octave in a mischievous tone. Hondo bowed his head a bit before she finished, his money-making smile still plastered on his face. He liked Trade Captain Blys’aan. She was sassy. Full of spirit. It was too bad she had retired from her position & was only fielding the remaining contracts in her name to her trade company. “We don’ take kindly t’ swindlers out here in wild space.” Naturally, what was a good deal without threats thinly veiled or otherwise? That’s how you know it is good! His mother had told him as much.

Other people (Kaleesh, he assumed) had wandered in & out of the background of her call a couple times & he had taken no notice. That was until Blys’aan said, “Hate for my husband t’ haff ta make’n example outta you to de other pirates, no?” She said this with such glee, her lips pursed into a playful smile behind her bone-crested veil, that the realization of someone coming to pause behind her almost startled the smile from him. They were large. If Blys’aan had 12 standard centimeters on him, this figure would have been nearly 30 centimeters taller than him in his finest boots.

Hondo could only assume it was her new husband; the General, they called him. There was nothing coy & playful about this man. He was only on screen for a few seconds but had looked directly at the pirate, gesturing the universal signal for watching someone. The moment the General motioned to his eyes with two clawed fingers the color on the old monitor cut back in. For a split second Hondo might have been intimidated, barely registering the pointed jab his direction under the piercing predatory gaze of the General’s bright gold eyes glowering at him from behind the hollowed sockets of some animal’s bleached skull. By the time Hondo began to voice a reply to Blys’aan, the General was already out of the frame.

“Of course, of course!” Ohnaka began, very loudly & very reassuringly, “I am a man of substance, Captain! We wouldn’t dream of- of profiting off the suffering of your people. We can be excellentfriends!” He clapped his hands together at this for emphasis. Blys’aan giggled very boisterously. She must have seen her husband walking away & realized that he had been behind her. That must have been a solid relationship, threatening pirates together. Good for them. “There is no need to take the good General away from his duties,” Hondo insisted.

He had no idea what those duties were but he would prefer he keep to them. All Hondo knew about General Grievous was that he was some sort of globally celebrated veteran folk hero, & not the jaunty fun kind of folk hero. He’d heard from the other gangs considering Kalee’s jobs that the General protected his system so fiercely that even Zygerrian slavers would no longer come out this way. The details did not concern him. Hondo was there to do business!

The call carried on another few minutes as he wanted to be positive he postured assuringly enough to not get his crew killed by the natives. Blys’aan had ended the conversation with, “You be good t’ all yer space rat friends, now Ohnaka,” which he took to be endearing in a matronly way. How nice of her to wish them well. This was the last time he spoke with Import Trade Captain Blys’aan. He certainly had hoped in the moment that it was the last time he ever had to see the General.

From then on Hondo’s Kaleeshi contact was the High Trade Chief of the planet’s premier trade organization. They liked their titles, the Kaleesh. High Trade Chief Yaitee was an alright sort, very shrewd & severe. He was quite a fine businessman but desperate (the best kind of businessman) & much less fun. A couple members of his own crew would splinter off & join a poaching ring on the planet, never to be heard from again. You win some, you lose some. Then the Intergalactic Banking Clan showed up to the system. They had apparently worked out some sort of deal with the good General. Many smugglers did not like that kind of presence. Even with the IBC, the Kaleesh tried to maintain many of their under the table contracts as there wasn’t much to go around, apparently.

Over time the Ohnaka gang was getting right to where they wanted to be in the galaxy, cutting deals & running spice. Kalee became less profitable every quarter until they quietly stopped taking their jobs & moved on to greener pastures, so to speak. The last time Kalee was on his underworld radar was maybe 8 standard years after he’d taken on Blys’aan’s contract. Something about an urgent need for medical supplies. Ominous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it even if he wanted too. Meds were very hard to smuggle & supplying them tended to land people in a lot of drama. Too much trouble to do as a regular gig. But life with spice was going quite nicely.

Hondo did not think back on dropped deals very often. Life must go on, after all. Years later the Ohnaka gang became quite good at conducting business on the fringes of the Clone Wars. Now, he was not one to take sides, but it is hard to sell to battle droids. Not impossible, but very hard. The money in the Separatists was their leader Count Dooku of Serrano. The man was loaded with money. But unfortunately their engagements fell through & Hondo hadn’t managed to make friends with the Count.

He had hoped perhaps the Count was an honorable old man that would take their falling out with grace & humility. He learned he was incorrect in this assumption when a fleet of battle droids showed up to his beautiful home & base of operations on Florrum. The Count himself did not show, busy doing Sith lord things, whatever that was. He sent his dog of war. Of course Hondo had heard the commander of Dooku’s droid army was wreaking havoc on the galaxy. Not the jaunty, fun kind of havoc. Supreme Commander of the Separatist Droid Army General Grievous. The Kaleesh liked their titles. However, up until that day, Hondo had the good fortune of never meeting him & thought maybe good for him, getting promoted to death machine, but never lingered on it.

He had not been worried. What are a few battle droids? He was not prepared for what marched into his lobby that day. It was big. Sharp. Cold. Most of all, furious. King of the clankers, indeed.

“Hondo,” it growled his name with disdain upon entering.

“General Grievous, I presume!” Hondo had greeted his guest as jovially as ever. “What a surprise! Have a seat. What, may I ask, is the honor?” The hope that maybe this could be an amicable meeting faded with each long, loud step the General took, until this overgrown battle droid stepped directly onto his desk to leer at him. When the General grabbed his very rare vintage coat lapels & lifted him off of his feet there was a split second of something, maybe horror or disgust or maybe even pity. Whatever it was had him briefly aghast to find those same blazing golden eyes he’d glimpsed so long ago. Did the General remember him? Or was he acting purely on the spiteful orders of his master?

“You can dispense with the pleasantries, pirate,” Grievous had rasped as he approached. “This planet is now under Separatist control,” he had asserted from somewhere on that uncanny plate armor that was now his face. It truly was the same man. Bone white was an interesting color choice for a killer war robot. Bold.

“Uh huh,” Hondo blinked a few times before remembering he was currently being threatened with military occupation by this fancy cyborg. “And what do you suppose that means?” he asked. His flash of empathy vanished completely as quickly as it came. He got the feeling this meeting was not going to get him any deals & in fact he may be swindled. The gall did not have time to be voiced as the General threw him to the ground with an unnecessary amount of force. Luckily he was still drunk enough not to be phased by impact.

“It means you have a new master, pirate scum” the General jeered & threw something to the ground in front of him. Hondo had another second of panic, thinking perhaps the good General was insane & opted to bomb them. But it was just a holocom. And there was the man of the hour over hologram to greet him.

“Hondo Ohnaka, we meet again,” Count Dooku began over coms with just as much disdain as his monstrous errand boy, “As I recall, last time we met face-to-face I was your prisoner.” Hondo muttered a syllable. He supposed the Jedi would never hold a grudge like this. “And you attempted to barter me off to the highest bidder.” Dooku’s face never once changed expression.

“But can you blame me?” Hondo interjected with a smile & a sheepish shrug. “I mean a Sith Lord-“ He used the same gravitas to pronounce it that everyone else did, although still not having any idea what exactly a Sith lord was. “What a handsome price you would-“

“Silence! You will pay the price for your treachery,” the Count barked.

“Well, I’m a reasonable man. Name the price. I’m sure we can reach a-“ Hondo was again cut off.

“There will be payment, but no deals…” No deals, he said? No deals? “Only demands. Your entire arsenal will be melted down. Everything you own is now property of the Separatist Alliance.”

“Now you go too far!” Hondo exclaimed indignantly. “Unacceptable! This is an outrage. This…” All of his little kingdom he had worked so hard for! Scrapped by this cad & his metal toys? He had stolen all of this fair & square. He would not stand for this! Now that he was making a scene, two commando droids clacked up & seized him by the arms with very unforgiving grip. “Hold on,” the pirate changed his tone as the droids led him away to his own brig. “We can make a deal! This is not good business!” he shouted over his shoulder.

That was a very long day for Hondo Ohnaka. Luckily the half-gallon Jedi he had captured earlier came back to rescue him with the troupe of pint sized Jedi in tow. How nice this was! Not only did they free him, but he got to witness the construction of a Jedi lightsaber. Very rare, very exclusive. In return he led them to his secret fleet of pirated ships in which they could escape. Very generous of him. They got separated in the dry canyons of Florrum but Hondo was convinced to courageously save the day in the Fetts’ souped up patrol ship, Slave 1. It was a very nice ship that the same half-gallon Jedi had grounded there some time before.

The ship had now come to the girl’s rescue in the midst of a lightsaber duel with the General himself. There were far too many laser swords flashing down there in the dust. Tano leapt dramatically into the open gangplank just out of reach of the droid general’s claws. Grievous stood & stared down this highly modified attack ship, yelling some threat. Hondo felt threatened, at least, as his initial impression concerning the General’s level of sanity seemed to be true. This completely justified opening fire on the cyborg with dual ship-graded laser cannons. The tiny Jedi were surprisingly very open to obliterating him. It would have been a nice end to the day if Hondo had stopped a galactic war right then & there but, after a bolt or two struck the ground around him the General dropped & took cover. He folded rather like a very expensive lawn chair as his Separatist tanks rolled up behind him. It was time to go.

This was exactly how he retold the tale to Jedi Kenobi. Except maybe the part about waylaying a craft full of children. The important thing is Hondo saved the day! His friends in the Republic were happy to free his base system from Separatist control or, in the very least, not arrest him for waylaying a craft full of children. Whilst Hondo & his battered gang went back to Florrum to start picking up the pieces, he may have had a quiet moment of intoxicated introspection (the best kind of introspection?).

He reflected on the concepts of good & evil, whether or not they exist, & if so, to what degree. Was his sense of honor different than his friend Kenobi’s? From the Count’s? From the General’s? Surely these were all honorable men. At least at some point in their lives. Hardship tends to polarize people. Hondo liked to be in the middle. Maybe a little to one side. Then he went to drunkenly order new ships from the holonet to defend his base from any other ideas the Count might get.

The very last time his mind wandered all the way back to the Kalee contract was when the news broke. That was a lot of news to take in, to be fair. The Clone Wars had ended with the death of General Grievous & a betrayal by the Jedi of the Republic? Where did everyone’s honor get them in the end? He fleetingly wondered how Import Trade Captain Blys’aan was doing.

[tracybirds]

tidying is good for the soul

I just really really didn’t want to tidy my own room.... I forced Gordon to do it in my stead :)

Some angsty Pen&Ink decided to show their faces in the middle for ReasonsTM and I ran with it. I wish I could say the mess I’m avoiding is worse than Gordon’s... it is not.

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

The smell hit Scott first as he walked past, musty air filled with sweat, rotting food and something else he didn’t want to identify. The stale oxygen forced its way into his lungs as he peered into the room.

Breathing through his mouth only ensured he could taste the rich, ripe aroma. He bit back his instinctive reaction to gag, instead shoving his hand over his nose and mouth. He could see an egg on the plate sitting innocently on the chest of drawers, clearly abandoned in a rush to get to a rescue, still in its shell. Still in its shell, after what must have been days, the green-grey fuzz of mold cradling it gently where it lay.

“Gordon, you can’t live like this, you have to clean this up.”

“Huh?”

Scott gestured at the room at large.

“This! This garbage heap you call a room! How can you just lie there and… and… relax? When it’s like this?”

Gordon shrugged.

“Good defence mechanism.”

“You’ll get yourself sick like this, you know that.”

“It’ll strengthen my immune system.”

Scott coughed back the stench.

“Is that…?”

No. He didn’t want to know.

“I’ll be fine,” said Gordon, staring deliberately up at the projection on the ceiling. He was watching Buddy and Ellie again, nestled between two piles of laundry and exercise gear abandoned at his feet.

Scott knew what he had to do. He knew what he should do. He just couldn’t be sure if there were any landmines ahead of him if he strode into the room.

Necessity called.

He jabbed a finger at his comm and cut the power.

“HEY!!”

“Clean it up, Gordon. You’ll get your damn show back when it’s liveable again.”

“I was busy!”

“You were watching videos! And I know you’ve seen that episode before, at least four times.”

“At least give me my lights! Please?”

Scott shook his head, his mouth twisting in disgust.

“You can start by opening the curtains, and the windows too. Get some fresh air in here.”

Gordon grabbed at the water bottle, hidden in the clothes by his head, and threw it with the aim of an athlete at the door slamming shut. It hit with a loud thud and clattered as it hit the floor.

Water began to seep under the gap and Scott rolled his eyes at the sight. Let Gordon have his tantrum if he wanted. The space was becoming a hazard to them all, and his disorganised brother needed a push. He remembered the last ‘argument’ that had stemmed from someone else daring to do it for him. Scott still had the scar.

***

Gordon glared at the offending door in the dark. The glow of his comm on his wrist provided the only light in the gloom, being the only object not reliant on the power that Scott had taken away from him.

Guilt stabbed at him as he looked around. Now that Scott had brought it to his attention, he couldn’t deny the truth in his accusations. Most of the precarious piles in the space was trash he’d been holding on to, or items that needed a home that he couldn’t find the energy to designate. There were meals and dishes long forgotten as he traipsed in from a rescue in the small hours, stumbling forward with eyes only for his bed. By the time he’d woken up, they’d just become another faded feature of the past. And speaking of his bed, he’d been sharing that space with an assortment of clothing, tablets and oceanographic equipment for longer than he cared to remember.

Thank goodness Penny hadn’t dropped by for a visit. Not that she wanted to see him at the moment, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him slyly.

Gordon scowled, pushing the memory of their last meeting away with a practiced ease. He wasn’t dwelling.

He scrambled to his feet and picked his way across the background noise of the past two months. He yanked open the curtains and looked around, eyes blinking as he took in the sight of dishes piled eight deep glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

He could see Alan, waving up at him from the deck below, and felt the tug to join him, to dive into whatever his brother was doing, anything to not feel alone and stranded on this antipodean island.

Instead, he shoved open the balcony doors and scooped up the wrappers that spilled out of their caged position on the edge of his dresser.

It was a room of categories.

Trash and not-trash.

Things with a home, and things without a home.

Stuff that was mere clutter, and stuff he was still most definitely using, never mind that weeks had passed since they’d last found their way into his hands, thanks Scott.

He doubted Scott had ever found himself with a stray hair dropped on his bathroom floor, let alone sworn violently at a smear of toothpaste that somehow stretched from the mirror to the floor, smeared by a sleepy hand in a futile attempt to clean it off before Gordon collapsed.

Gordon was scrubbing at it now.

The food was an easy fix at least, and he’d quickly employed MAX for depositing the dishes in a soak, wash, rinse, purify with fire cycle.

The room was becoming semi presentable again, enough that Gordon could actually walk between the piles instead of taking strategic leaps from clearing to clearing. That one for laundry, that one for clean clothes, that one for clothes that might have once been clean but had been trapped under so much stuff he thought they might appreciate another rinse if only for a shot at seeing the local scenery.

He tugged at the comforter, trying to extract it from under the “still-being-finished” projects he’d placed lovingly out of the way on his bed. It might be nice to sleep under something that smelt fresher than his socks.

A final jerk, accompanied by a necessary grunt, pulled the bedspread clear, turning Gordon’s sound of frustrated power into a hard-earned yell.

He fell, yelping as his shoulder struck the edge of his drawers and sent a precarious collection of borrowed items cascading to the ground. With him underneath.

A sharp knock on the door drew his attention.

“Gordon? You alright in there?”

Gordon scowled at the door, imagining the way he might throttle Virgil if he came in now, with his barely disguised approval and his wide-eyed sympathy that Gordon couldn’t keep his space straight like the rest of them. Especially now that the once clear floor was covered in junk all over again.

He hit his head against the floor with a thunk.

“Fine. Get lost.”

He didn’t need X-ray vision to see the huff and rolling eyes Virgil gave in response.

“Have it your way. Scott’s got dinner sorted in an hour or so if you want it.”

Gordon was very certain he would not.

He didn’t move even after he had heard Virgil’s footsteps fade away. The afternoon light had turned golden warm as the sun began to set. He could ask Scott for the lights back, he knew Scott had only turned them off to grab his attention, but the dimming room suited his dark mood just fine.

He wished he could call Penny, twelve hours behind him and a world away, just to complain and joke about ways to pay Scott back tenfold for the trouble he’d caused him.

He wondered if she still bothered to wake up early when there was no one scheduled to call anymore. His 0400 alarm had hardly wavered, his body attuned to the rhythm and his heart wishing beyond reason to hear word of the daily minutia of life in high society London.

He couldn’t call her just to talk about junk.

He couldn’t call her to talk about anything.

Gordon scrubbed at his face, drawing his legs in as he made to stand once more. He reached out, fingers splayed on the floor, as he hauled himself upright. His eyes fell on the shimmering pink material at the base of the tower that now lay scattered across the room.

A scarf, but not just any scarf, as she’d haughtily told him. A gift from a Duchess, another high end and frivolous purchase, on loan from a very, very good friend of her father – Gordon could hardly remember the details, laughing at her affronted look while he downplayed its importance.

“Just a piece of fabric, Penny, no better, no worse than my pants.”

“Than your trousers, I should say.”

Gordon laughed again.

“Nah, Pen, definitely my pants.”

Maybe it had meant something to her, but she’d let him take it home, covered in her perfume and her love and her firm belief that he deserved something special of hers.

A tangible image of her heart and he’d taken it in with irreverence and mockery, and hidden it away beneath clutter and trash and the needs of everyone and anyone that wasn’t her. Lost it among a pile of junk now strewn on the floor, none of which even mattered, not even to him. He’d thrown half his life away, only to find her still draped all over him.

Draped, no thrown carelessly on his chest of drawers, with none of the delicacy and care that her vulnerability and trust deserved, none of the precious love he had sworn up and down was hers.

His vision blurred as he ran his rough hands through the soft folds and he tapped the comm before he could think twice about the consequences.

He couldn’t look at the holo as it answered, its blue light spilling out into the room, cold and lifeless. It might have been Parker for all he knew as he sobbed into the scarf.

“Gordon?”

Her voice was a balm against the wound rending him in two.

“Pen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her silence chased his mumbled apologies and regret into the darkened room.

“Thank you, Gordon.”

[hungrywhovianjedi]

Twin Moons

read also on my AO3 and my FF.net read the rest here prologue chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Premise of the story:  Obi-Wan never took Luke to Tatooine in fact they overshot the force forsaken dustball completely and instead Luke grew up on the planet Lothal being trained to become a Jedi like his father before him. Ezra Bridger is an orphan loner who only makes an exception to his solitude for one boy. The boy who helped him out when he was seven, and that Ezra always seems to get into trouble.

NOW FOR THE BIG REVEAL The cover of Twin Moons art is by the amazingly talented @sunflova​ 

He took it all back, when he said Luke was more like his mother he took it back, as he looked through the wreckage that was a speeder bike and tie fighter he admitted it. He raised another Anakin. Yet another Skywalker with a reckless streak that caused chaos wherever he went. This level of Reckless he hadn't seen in fifteen years!

He knew Luke was alive, despite his initial panic, he could still feel the steady if dull connection between them, and had felt the fear when Luke noticed he was starting to lose his sense of his mentor in the force.

More concerning was still the cold weight that had settled over Lothal, only that coldness made him glad Luke was not on this planet right now, a shadow had come to land on this planet, and it was better that Luke not encounter it. 

Feeling this darkness was like being pushed back in time, the worst night of his life. He was suddenly facing Anakin on Mustafar. He didn't know what brought him here, but Vader was on Lothal, and Ben was prepared for the worst. 

Although preferably he would avoid his former apprentice completely, and find a ship to follow Luke off the planet.  He knew the boy was frightened, could feel it in their bond. He sent a wordless reassurance through the force, and only hoped Luke would receive it. 

~~~~~~~

Anger burned through him, a red hot flame cutting through everything. The first thing he gets told upon landing is of incompetence. An entire shipment of arms lost to, as the reports and security footage said, two smugglers and children. He watched again the footage showed two young boys jumping a median on a stolen speeder. His eyes were drawn again to the boy driving a halo of golden hair, and a stern set to his mouth. There was something deeply familiar about the boy, but he couldn't place it. 

"Get me agent Kallus" He ordered, then after a moment of thought, "and bring me the sorry excuse of a commander that claims to be in charge of this battalion"

"Yes sir!" The trooper by the door saluted, and marched through the door. 

Stormtroopers, he sneered at the thought, he missed the Clones, he never had mishaps like this when he commanded the 501st. The Clones would have deftly handled the thieves, and he wouldn't have to get ISB involved. However the Clones were made dispensable, their advanced aging process taking its toll, and they were all but broken down shells now. They kept a few on to train legions of troopers, but otherwise they were dead or AWOL. One of these was his once Captain and Friend CT7567 Rex. He was disappointed when he heard that Rex's ship went down. 

To this day he still got the pang in his chest about the reality of that day. Ahsoka… Rex wasn't the only friend he lost then. 

"Good luck" the last words spoken between them,  he would never forget the pain of finding her saber in the wreckage of that venator, knowing that he inadvertently caused her demise. 

He clenched his fist, what was wrong with him? Why was he being haunted by the past of Anakin Skywalker after all these years, it was like something on this planet was pulling all of the things that he had buried to the surface. It all began with that presence, like a light in the darkness so much like Padmè it hurt. 

"My lord" the voice pulled the sith lord from his thoughts.

He turned to face the men who entered,  "Agent Kallus, Commander Arescko. It has been brought to my attention that the afternoon's fiasco, was in fact not the first of such disturbances to happen under your watchful eye, and yet these thieves, remain unapprehended" 

Arescko swallowed, visibly uncomfortable with facing Vader. "My Lord, these brigands knew our protocol, and were waiting in position" 

Vader folded his arms, "so it was your protocol to have a secured imperial comm unit stolen? Or was it your protocol that caused several casualties, and the loss of thousands of credits worth of stolen firepower? The fact is Commander, if you had been diligent in your duties these brigands would not have had the chance to ambush your troops. Reports across Lothal have spoken of this crew, and yet you did nothing to prepare your men for the inevitable attack"

The commander shook, trying to remain calm. He knew of Vader's reputation, and what usually happened to those who dissatisfied him. "I assure you my lord-"his words cut off sharply into choking gasps.

"I will not abide incompetence commander"

Kallus shifted uncomfortably as the commander's choked breathing faded, and Vader dropped the man to the ground. Kallus did not check if the man was still alive, he was certain that Vader would not have released him if that was the case. 

"Agent Kallus, do you know what these attacks suggest?"

"Yes My Lord. The Imperial security bureau pays attention to patterns, and this is shaping to form a spark of rebellion" he stood at attention, not wavering under the gaze of Darth Vader, "I assure you, since being deployed here, I have made preparations for the next strike these would be rebels make. I have set up a trap for them. We will crush this spark of rebellion"

"See that you do" Vader replied tersely, "and when you do, the boy on those tapes, bring him to me alive. There is something familiar about him"

Kallus saluted and walked out.

 ~~~~~~~

Space… they were in space, force knows how far away from Lothal, Luke could barely sense Ben in his mind, and it unnerved him. Ben was the constant in his life. Since as long as he remembered it was him and Ben. Going to the market, meditation training together, exploring the mountains of Lothal, training with his saber, each time Ben was there. His absence was like a cold dark spot in his mind. After watching the hyperspace jump, the man, who finally introduced himself as Kanan, had taken him to the cockpit where he met the pilot, Hera. 

He had to admit, he admired Hera's courage, facing down the Empire in an old freighter, and he was set slightly at ease when the Twilek told him they would be returning to Lothal as soon as she could calculate the next jump. 

"Let me go! You can't keep me here, take us back to Lothal!" Ezra bellowed as Zeb hauled him into the cockpit. 

Luke looked back to his friend and saw the noted relief the other boy showed. 

"Relax, that's exactly what we're doing" Hera's voice held an edge of humor.

Ezra looked panicked, "wait, now? With the Empire chasing us?"

Luke spoke up then, "it's okay Ez, she lost the fighters" he looked up at Hera, "she's an amazing pilot"

The woman seemed pleased with his praise, "like the kid said, we lost the fighters when we jumped and the ghost can scramble its signature so they can't track us when we return"

"Oh, that's pretty cool" Ezra looked stunned, but like always shook it off, and smirked, "alright, so just drop me, Luke and our blasters off outside of capital city"

The door slid open, Kanan and Sabine walking in

"They're not your blasters" Sabine stated, brushing past Ezra, shooting Luke a quick smile.

"And we're not going back to Capital City, jobs not done." Kanan finished. 

Luke bit his lip, Hera hadn't mentioned that they weren't being taken back home, "We're not?"

Hera shook her head, "we have a deadline to meet, then we'll get both of you back where you belong if that's still what you want"

Luke nodded, he really did, he missed his uncle, and he only hoped where they landed was close enough for him to reach Ben again. 

~~~~~~ 

Ezra was fuming, how dare these people refuse to bring them home! He didn't care about their job, he wanted his blasters so he could sell them on the black market and have a little cash to live off of, then there was the fact that Luke was acting weird. 

The blonde was usually so happy and talkative, he had barely said a word since they jumped onto this ship seeming almost fearful of the crew. 

Then there were these people they treated Luke like some lost little kid, and him? They treated him like a common Loth-rat he hated it. Ezra wanted to go home, wanted his best friend back, and never wanted to see this ship again!

He sat in one of the bucket seats in the cockpit, Luke in the other, legs pulled to his chest, head bowed and eyes closed. Ezra wondered if he was sleeping. 

"We're coming for a landing, you boys want to stretch your legs? We'll be here for a while" 

Ezra glanced again at Luke who hadn't even stirred, but he saw a smile on the other boy's face  that hadn't been there before. He always marveled at the way Luke could do that, just drop into total relaxation at the drop of a hat, he had seen the boy do it many times, at times it was almost like he was seeing nothing and everything at the same time. Ezra envied the ease with which Luke found peace, and sometimes wished he could be more like him. He knew he was brash and abrasive, but he couldn’t help it. Being the way he was, it was the only thing that allowed him to live on his own. It gave him the aura that kept people from messing with him. Be abrasive and they left you alone. It worked on everyone.

Everyone except Luke it seemed. 

~~~~~~

The force surrounded him, he gathered his fear and uncertainty and released it to the force. It took longer this time than usual to find his center and drop into a meditative trance, the alien sounds of the ship invading his thoughts. In the end, he latched onto the familiar. He reached out in the force and found Ezra, the other boys presence, a soothing balm. 

Luke breathed in, and out steadily, looking to lose himself in the force. Take his anger release it, his fear release it, his uncertainty release it. He took in a deep breath, and silently repeated the words Ben would tell him as the older man taught Luke to find his place in the force. 

Emotion, yet peace

He took the emotions that had been at war in him and pushed them away, they belonged to the force.

Ignorance, yet knowledge 

He released the questions that had been hounding him, force willing someday they would be answered, they also belonged to the force. 

Passion, yet serenity 

He pulled on the peace he found in the force, allowing it to swallow him whole, his passion now belonged to the force.

Chaos, yet harmony 

Chaos surrounded him, burning through Zeb and Ezra, Chopper the droid was certainly a character of chaos, but he wouldn't allow it to touch him, his chaos belonged to the force.

Death, yet the force 

Like many times he felt the caress of a woman's hand on his cheek, people didn't keep themselves in the force Ben said, but Luke knew he was wrong, in his meditation, he felt his mother, her hand on his skin, her voice in his ear. When he realized what it was, he sought also the touch of his father, but the force had stopped him, a black vortex before him, that threatened to swallow him. He turned from the vortex and released his mothers touch to the force. His life belonged to the force. 

Emotion, yet peace

Ignorance, yet knowledge 

Passion, yet serenity 

Chaos, yet harmony 

Death, yet the force 

This time like many as he moved through the force, he found a dormant tether, one that neither held taught nor hung loosely, it was formed much like his and Ben's, yet somehow deeper, he tried to follow it once when he was younger, but had only been shown a vision of a young girl looking around in a panic. He tried to speak through the tether once, like he did with Ben, only to be cut off from the bond completely with the force of a psychic scream. 

He once asked Ben, who told him it was a connection in the force that he was not yet meant to learn. Luke always wondered who the girl at the other end was, and why she never reached back, but after being cast out, he left it alone. 

Finally he reached for the bond that was always there and pulled lightly, almost crying with joy, when he was answered almost instantly. 

Luke! Where are you, what happened, are you safe?

I'm safe Ben, I'm in a ship heading back to Lothal, Ezra had a bad plan, we ended up getting chased by Stormtroopers the only way out was to jump on a ship with some smugglers, but I think they're okay…

We will talk about all of that soon, but for now I need you to promise me something Luke, stay where you are. If you are safe with these people, stay with them. Someone has come to Lothal, and it is safer for you to stay away from Capital City.

Ben, I don't understand, why wouldn't you want me to come home?

Luke. I promise, I will explain everything soon. For right now however, I need you to stay there. I will find you it is no longer safe here. 

Luke froze, and could feel a stab of ice into his heart, making him lose part of his grasp on the force. It almost felt like somehow someone was probing the bond. No not probing the bond almost consuming it a cold force that reminded him of the swirling darkness that surrounded the spot in the force his father should have been. It was terrifying he had never felt anything like it. The cold threatening to swallow him whole. It blanketed the force around them, and Luke almost pulled away, being calmed only when Ben once more spoke through their bond.

Calm down Luke, remember your training, the force will be with you, and no matter what or however far you stray I will be with you always

Ben I'm frightened 

The force has a plan for us Luke, and something tells me it doesn't end here. Remember Luke. I love you as though you are my own son, and I will see you soon, this I promise.

Luke was pulled from his meditation then, a rough hand on his shoulder

"Wake up kid, time to move, grab a crate, pull your weight" Zeb instructed, before he stomped out of the room. Luke looked outside and saw Lothal's twin moons shining through the front window of the ship.

[theoriginalladya]

Destiny’s Fate (update)(main story)

Destiny’s Fate is the main story in my ShepShep world. John and Jane Shepard have known one another since they were fifteen years old.  Through thick and thin they’ve been friend, lover, and spouse to one another.  Destiny has a grand plan for them.

Until Jane dies over Alchera and John finally finds a way to live again.  When they meet up again on Horizon, both their worlds are shattered.  Harsh words and bitterness ensue, as does a divorce, leaving them on a different sort of battlefield.  A personal one.

But Destiny’s grand plan cannot be changed, and as the promised Reaper attack gets underway, they are brought together once more to face the greatest threat all civilization in the galaxy has ever known.  Can they set aside their differences enough to partner up and defeat the common enemy?  Or will their own personal battles defeat them in the process?   

Summary: Once united in all things, Destiny has guided John and Jane Shepard to separate, divergent paths; however, both know the future holds a far greater threat than the rest of the galaxy is willing to acknowledge. Can they join together one last time to complete the mission they started together, or will Fate deal them a final losing hand …

Tags: marriage, divorce, strained relationships, angst, pregnancy (past), loss of pregnancy (past), emotional hurt/comfort, death, descrption of battle, biotics, injury

Chapter:  Blinded by the Light

Word Count:  approximately 2400

Excerpt:

Little has changed on Tuchanka since her visit the year before, Jane thinks as she scrambles across the battlefield, ducking for shelter behind a pile of large debris to avoid a grenade.  It’s just as arid, devoid of most forms of life outside of krogan, thresher maws, and varren as it ever was.  The one big thing she notices, however, is that the krogan apparently built things to last years before and despite their nuclear war, because the old planetary defense cannon is still functional.  It caught the interest of Cerberus – because, of course, it did – and is the reason she and her team are here now.  For reasons unknown, the old cannon is of interest to them.  

Enter Admiral Hackett.  “Shepard, we have a mission for you…”

The grenade explodes, tossing bits of dirt and debris all over her area.  Once the worst is past, Jane cautiously peeks over the top edge of her cover to make a quick assessment of the battlefield.  “James?”

“On your left, Lola!” the lieutenant calls back across comms.  

Pulling out one of her own grenades, Jane pulls the pin and hefts it in her hand.  “Left side enclosure – think you can toss a grenade that far?”  She launches hers as she finishes speaking.

A second goes sailing after as James calls back, “Consider it done!”

They land within a second or so of each other, exploding close enough to the target to take down two Cerberus engineers and their turrets, as well as stun one of the more heavily armored troops protecting them.  

“Commander, up in the window!” Kaidan shouts.

Jane narrows her gaze about twenty meters above her previous target.  Lifting her weapon, she uses the scope to count heads as they move in and out of the line of fire.

“I got this one!” James calls out.  Another of his grenades launches even before his voice fades, exploding seconds later. The screams of Cerberus personnel caught in the blast are a fitting end.

Movement to Jane’s right has her spinning around…and lowering her weapon with a huff of frustration. “EDI,” she breathes, heart racing just a little too fast.  “Next time, warn me you’re incoming, ‘k?”

“Of course, commander.”

Pushing to her feet, Jane gestures for the AI to follow after her. “Let’s get up there, see what you can make of it.”...

~~~

Read on AO3 // Read from Beginning // Read Destiny’s Fate:Downtime // Read Series

Thank you all for reading and your comments!  Feel free to drop an ask if you have questions about ShepShep or just want to talk about them!  :)

[tanyawritesstories]

Beneath the Armor | Kix x Reader

Came up with this fun little idea a while ago. I was supposed to publish it before I went on vacation but oh well. Hope you like it, Kixystycks deserves some love ♥️♥️

Warnings: SMUT, lingerie, teasing, Kix is a smug bastard

•••

You wiggled around a little bit to get used to the smooth lace fabric. Adjusting the straps of the bra and letting the panties glide over your hips. You looked in the mirror. Damn. You looked sexy in the red lace lingerie you had brought with you and were now wearing. You bought it on Coruscant and took it with you on this campaign, saving it for a special occasion. You knew this last battle to claim the planet would be a tough one and, without a doubt, your boyfriend Kix would be tired and stressed by the end of it. You wanted to help him out when that time came, so you planned on wearing the sexy garment underneath your modified blacks and armor. Hoping to surprise him when everything calmed down.

Someone pounded on the refresher door, startling you. “(Y/n), hurry up! We leave in ten!” You quickly scrambled into your blacks and exited the fresher. “What took you so long?” Kix asked. “Oh, you know,” you said, hastily getting into your special armor, “got lost in thought.” Kix smiled and helped you don the rest of your armor. Slinging your backpack of medical supplies onto your back, fitting your helmet onto your head and grabbing your blaster rifle. “Ready to go,” you confirmed. Kix put his hand on your shoulder piece reassuringly, the piece bearing the same medic symbol as him.

While most of the men in armor had been assigned this duty from birth, your story was different. You were a volunteer. Originally a surgeon on your home planet, you had joined the GAR after the Separatists invaded your home. You defended the city and it's survivors until the 501st arrived. General Skywalker saw your potential as a medic as well as a soldier and all you had to do was ask him to let you join them. The men had not taken well to you at first, being a woman and a civvie, but after a while they warmed up to you. Especially Kix. He admired you and your talents. He was just a field medic and you were a surgeon, you had much more experience then he did. You both shared the work and care of the men but you were in charge of the more difficult surgeries, with Kix aiding you to the best of his abilities.

After that Kix had gradually fallen for you but seemed you didn't feel the same way. Funnily enough, the exact same thing happened to you, in the same way. It went on for some time, Kix talking nonstop about you to Jesse, and you talking nonstop about Kix to Coric. Eventually Jesse and Coric got to talking and that resulted in the entire battalion setting you guys up to confess your feelings. 

You and Kix rushed down to the hangar and met the rest of the troops. General Skywalker gave the mission briefing and everyone was corralled into the gunships. The doors closed and the inside of the ship was plunged into near darkness. Everyone took a hold of the handles and you could feel the ship lift off. Kix held onto a handle and had his other arm around your back, you doing the same to him. Even in the dim light, Jesse was able to see your small action of affection. “Are you two going to hold hands if we get overpowered by droids, too?” He said, his snarky tone filling the silence in the gunship. “Oh cut it out,” you joked, taking your hand off the handle and swatting Jesse in the chest. The ship lurched and you were jolted forwards. Though Jesse would have been prepared to catch you, Kix had his arm around you and pulled you back into his chest, your helmets clunking together.

You held onto Kix and stared at him through your helmet. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew Kix was looking back at you. A chorus of ‘aww’s echoed through the gunship and Kix rolled his eyes. The ship lurched more as it got closer to the planet's surface and the distinct sound of artillery could be heard getting closer. You felt the ship land and the doors opened immediately. You rushed out into the fire fight, a little behind the General. You fired your blaster, trying your best to see through the smoke and dust. You were lucky for your helmet.

You expected the chaos and usual madness which came with these battles. However, this was the last one and if everyone could destroy the last of the droids, the planet would be free.

Something you did not expect was for a bomb to go off not far from you. You were thrown backwards and the explosion left your ears ringing, but you got up and ran to help the men caught in the blast. Most of them were dead, but you found two still alive and in bad shape. You injected them with pain dulling drugs, and did your best to temporarily dress their wounds. You looked up and saw Kix quite a ways in front of you, so you called Coric to help you instead. He helped you carry both men back from the front where he could work on them better. You ran back out into the fray.

The 501st was advancing but slowly. Bombs were going off in every other direction, keeping you, Kix, and Coric busy. You had just finished off a couple droids, when you heard a missile heading your way. You grabbed the trooper next to you and ran. You weren't able to get far enough away before the bomb landed and you were thrown into the air again, landing hard against the ground. Your helmet was knocked off and you were dazed, your vision blurry, ears ringing, and balance way off. You clumsily got to your feet and staggered in one spot. You were too out of it to notice the commando droid sneaking up behind you. Someone yelled your name and you turned around in time to see it raise it's sword-like weapon and slash at you. You backed up but the blade still made contact, tearing through your flesh in a diagonal line. You heard more yelling and fell backwards onto the ground. You saw the commando droid get shot down with an array of blaster fire. You were vaguely aware of the burning sensation across your torso but, unable to stay awake, your eyes rolled into your head and you lost consciousness.

Kix witnessed the entire event, he being the one screaming your name. He ran to your body and saw you out cold, he checked your pulse, still alive. He called for help and Tup came running to help him carry you back to cover. He had stabilized you when General Skywalker announced over the comm that they had taken the city. The enemy had been defeated. Cheers erupted from the soldiers while Kix remained worried still. The gunships arrived right away and the injured were taken back to the star cruiser first. Kix insisted on working on you first, and by himself, he would have to remove your armor, blacks and possibly more and he didn't want anyone else to see his girlfriend that way. Coric assured Kix he and a med droid could take care of the other men. The General gave Kix a private room to tend to you and he got to work.

He removed your broken armor carefully. Those droids must have gotten more advanced blades if they could slice right through plastoid. He checked out your head, luckily your helmet had taken most of the force, it was a miracle you hadn't gotten a concussion. He saw the blood seeping through your blacks and quickly cut your top off. He was not expecting what was underneath. Instead of your usual bra you were wearing a red lacy bra that was mostly see through. Kix stared for a few seconds, shocked. The sight would've normally aroused him, had you not been bleeding heavily from the gash going from your left rib cage down to your right hip. Kix took off your bottom as well, finding a matching pair of red lace panties. Why in the blazes were you wearing lingerie underneath your armor? Kix pushed the question aside and got to work on stitching up your wound.

~~~~

Your eyelids fluttered open and you had to blink to accommodate for the blinding light. Once your eyes adjusted you saw that you were in the medbay, lying in a bed with a loose sterile gown on, and a burning pain going through your stomach. You groaned and sat up, turning your head when you heard the door open. Kix entered and sat on the edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. "I've got a headache and my stomach feels like it's being ripped apart," you answered. Kix moved the covers down and lifted your gown to see underneath. "Your stitches are still intact, it's just the pain catching up to you. Let me get something for you." He walked across the room and grabbed an injector. He stuck it into your neck and pushed the pain dulling fluid into your body. "Do you remember what happened?"

"A commando droid tried to dice me," you laughed, "and I almost got blown up."

"You could have died and you're laughing about it?" He questioned, clearly not expecting that reaction.

"Well I'm ok now, aren't I?"

"Thanks to me," He added. "Yes, thanks to you, dearest," you smiled at him. Kix crossed his arms and smiled halfheartedly. "You owe me," he said going back to the medical cabinet. "I know," you said sarcastically. 

"Speaking of that," Kix continued, opening a drawer, "care to explain these?"

He turned around to face you, your red lace panties dangling from his index finger. You blushed as red as the garment he held in his hand. You completely forgot you had been wearing those. You looked away to hide the embarrassment on your face.

"It-it was supposed to be a surprise," you stuttered. You started playing with your fingers, something Kix knew you always did when you were nervous.

"A surprise, hmm?" He swayed over to your side, "Who for?"

"You," you mumbled, "after the battle ended." Kix tilted your chin up to see your eyes, a smug expression on his features.

"That's awfully sweet of you, love. But I'm afraid because of your injury you won't be able to put on a show for me until you heal." You pouted. "So I'll just put these in here," Kix stuffed the panties into a pouch in his belt, "Until that time comes."  Your eyes darkened at the thought of Kix carrying your panties around with him everywhere he went.

"That time had better come fast."

~~~~

It was another week until your wound was only a scar and the 501st was headed back to Coruscant. Kix had been teasing you the entire time. Whether it was sending playful smirks your way, or briefly brushing his fingers over your skin. He had even flashed you the red lace still kept on his belt from time to time. Needless to say, you were desperate for him now.

You had gotten off medbay duty and was heading back to your room. You wanted a shower and sleep more than almost anything right now, almost anything. You got to your room, which you had specially to get privacy from the boys in the barracks. Pressing in the code and allowing the door to slide open. You walked in and discarded your medical coat, you walked into the bedroom and jumped in surprise. Kix was sitting on your bed with his hands behind his back.

"Hey babe."

"Hi, Kix. What're you up to?"

He stood up, still hiding something behind his back. "You're all healed up now. Do you remember what I told you would happen once you got better?"

"You haven't let me forget," you replied. He chuckled, walking slowly towards you, "I thought you might not. So head to the fresher, put these on, and then I have a surprise for you."

Kix brought the lingerie set out from behind his back and placed the bra and panties in your hands. You smirked and took them, kissing him on the cheek before disappearing into the refresher. You threw off your clothes as fast as you could and donned the lingerie. You made sure to tidy up your hair and spray some perfume on to get rid of the smell of sweat, which would probably be doubled afterwards anyway. After checking your appearance, you excited the refresher. Your mouth dropping open the moment you stepped out. 

Kix was completely naked, laying on his side propped up by an elbow, his legs were spread and he was slowly stroking his cock.

You could feel your arousal making your folds slick, undoubtedly leaving a wet patch on your panties. You stared and Kix's eyes locked with yours, his brown orbs darkened with lust. He used his free hand to beckon you to him. You hastily made your way to his side and dropped to your knees, inches from his face. He closed the gap, your lips meeting in a heated exchange. You wrestled for dominance, gaining it when you replaced Kix's other hand with yours, slowly stroking him. He gasped and you slid your tongue into his mouth. 

With your lips still connected, you pushed him to lay down and climbed on top of him. You continued massaging him and Kix returned the favor by pushing the panties aside and circling your clit with his thumb. Your lips broke apart and you let out a series of lewd noises.

"You make such pretty sounds, baby," Kix praised. You rocked your hips against his fingers and he pushed two inside you, your walls fluttering around his digits. You used his chest for support to hold yourself up as your knees threatened to give out.

"Kix," you moaned out, his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside you, "I want.."

"What do you want, princess?" He said, smug as ever. "Can-can I ride you?" Kix cursed under his breath. "Absolutely. Hop on, princess." He reluctantly removed his fingers, eagerly sticking them into his mouth to taste your juices. You watched him, you desire growing, hungry to feel him inside you. You reached around your back, intent on undoing the bra clasp.

"No, no, leave that on," he took your hands from behind your back and placed them on his chest. "You got this lingerie specially for me and I want to see you ride me in it." You hummed and took his member in your hand again. You moved your panties aside with the other hand and slowly sank down, engulfing his length. Kix hissed underneath you and dug his fingers into your hips, you could see his muscles tense and knew he was enjoying himself. 

You sank all the way down and took a few seconds to adjust to his size. You were filled to the brim and moaned out his name. He moaned along with you, praising how good you felt around him. You ground your hips causing Kix to let out broken noises of pleasure. You began to bounce on his cock, setting a steady rhythm. He became a moaning mess beneath you, kneading your ass and reaching up to fondle your tits.

Your legs started to burn after a while, “Kix, can you.. my legs..” He pulled you down onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you, your skin sticking together and heartbeats syncing. “Shh, don’t worry, princess.” He planted his feet on the bed and braced his legs before he pounded up into you. The increasing speed spurred on the noises of pleasure falling from your lips. The tightening sensation grew in your lower stomach, as Kix hit that spot deep inside you. Whole body bursting with heat and pleasure, your nerves and brain in overdrive, only able to comprehend how good you felt.

Kix’s hands found purchase on your hip and shoulder. He slammed into you, the sound of skin harshly hitting skin filling the room, along with your moans and his grunts and growls. You gripped his shoulders and bit and sucked on his neck, making sure to leave marks that would surely be purple in the morning. He shuddered underneath you and you knew he was close. You moved your hips in time with his fast paced thrusts.

“I’m getting close,” he voiced. You reached down to play with your clit, bringing yourself to the edge. Kix’s movements got sloppy and with a few more thrusts he was spilling inside you, biting and moaning into your shoulder.

The feeling of his seed coating your walls set off your own orgasm and your release mixed with his where the two of you were connected. You stayed in that position as your breathing came back down to normal. Still connected, Kix rolled you both onto your sides, kissing you lovingly. You both laid, basking in the afterglow of sex.

Kix gently pulled out of you once he softened and went to the refresher, coming back with a small, damp towel. He cleaned you off, careful not to touch the sensitive areas. After discarding the towel, he laid down beside you and you insisted on being the big spoon. 

"Did you like your surprise that you already knew about?" You asked.

"Yes, although I wish you wouldn't have gotten hurt for me to find out," Kix replied. "That wasn't part of my plan," you stated, "it does have me thinking, however, of what other things I could surprise you with under my armor. Maybe I'll wear nothing next time." 

Kix rolled over to face you, his eyes clouded again. "Careful, baby. Don't get me riled up." You ran your fingers down his chest. "What if that's exactly what I want?" You purred. Kix rolled so he was hovering over you. "You're going to be sorry you asked," he breathed, "when I'm done you won't be able to walk for days."

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 10

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3; my username is the same there!

previous | next

10. feet won’t fail you now

CW: blood, match violence

Elliott lands hard, the impact sending shockwaves through his feet and legs. His heart immediately starts to pound- three sets of footsteps echo around him and he dives into the nearest building. He scoops up a Prowler, inserts a nearby HCOG scope, and just as he’s finishing up, the door in front of him flies open.

He breathes, steadying his aim, and pulls the trigger five times, sending an entire clip directly into a Legend hopeful’s head. The poor man’s face turns white and he immediately drops to the ground. Mirage lets out a whoosh of breath, and finishes him off. He’s got two heavy ammo boxes and a level one backpack, which he quickly takes. Another set of footsteps quickly approaches, and Mirage reloads the Prowler. 

The other door bangs open, and just as Mirage turns around, Revenant fires an Eva-8 right at him. Two rounds of double-fire pellets rip into Elliott’s chest and neck, and to his horror, he falls to the ground, bleeding and gasping. Shit! No! It can’t end like this! 

“Hey, uh, need help,” he gags into his earpiece, blood pouring from his mouth. Revenant picks up a crate of shotgun ammo and leaves, reloading his Eva-8 as he goes.

“Damn, Witt, lose that winning energy so quick?” Octane teases over the comms, and Elliott can hear more gunfire in the background. 

“Oh, you know,” he chokes, “it’s kind of hard to win when you immediately get downed by a goddamn murderbot!” His hands are slick with red and he’s fading fast, and he wants to throw up.

A giant smoke grenade comes careening through the door, and Elliott’s vision is immediately obscured. He presses his hands to his wounds, trying desperately to keep the pressure on so he doesn’t bleed out. “Williams, coming to my rescue? You shouldn’t have,” he says, and he coughs up a glob of blood that splatters across the floor. 

“Shut up and let me focus, Witt!!” Anita’s voice is commanding and harsh over the earpiece, and it shuts Elliott right up.

Just as his vision starts to go fuzzy, he hears a percussive beat of bullets close by, and Revenant screams, his modulated voice garbled with rage. “Get back here, you coward!” Anita yells. “Damn you!” Elliott loses track of how much time passes, but just before he passes out, something sharp plunges directly into his heart. “Fuck!” he yells, and his body jolts painfully, sending his arms and legs flailing. Adrenaline and heat surge through his veins, painfully clotting and repairing his wounds. A rush wallops his head and Anita drags him to his feet.

“Come on, Witt, get off your ass and give us a hand, would you?” She’s panting hard as she sticks a syringe into her wrist. Elliott grabs the wall for support as a wave of nausea flows through him, threatening to overturn his stomach.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Williams,” he chokes out, spitting out the last of the blood. “How many are left?”

“Two, by my count. Revenant got away, and he’s still got a teammate somewhere. Looks like you took care of their third.” She nods over at him, seemingly satisfied with his work. Anita had consistently been the toughest to crack- Elliott had not yet made her laugh to this day- so he would take what he could get.

“Yep, wasn’t a problem,” he says flippantly, shrugging as picks up a nearby shield cell. “Poor guy went down faster than- faster than… uh, poor guy went down fast.” His cheeks burn at his failed attempt at some sort of joke, and Anita’s deadpan expression tells him she’s not amused, either. 

She tosses him a Phoenix Kit, and he fumbles it a little before shoving his arm into it. “Not the time. Joke around later. He’ll be coming back for us any second now.” Her voice is short, and it stings Elliott’s ego a little. 

The Kit depletes with a hissing noise, and Elliott is good to go. He reloads his Prowler with shaking fingers. “Hey, let me get Revenant,” Elliott says, readjusting his backpack against his shoulders. “Gotta pay the son-of-a-bitch back. You go help Octane with… whatever he’s doing.” “Sure you can handle yourself?” Anita sounds skeptical, and her eyebrows are raised as she reloads her weapons. “Me?” He forces an incredulous laugh. “Of course I can! Didn’t you see how well I kicked his ass the other day? This’ll be a walk in the park.” He hops up and down on the balls of his feet, still feeling a little faint from being brought back from the brink. 

“All right.” Anita shrugs and gives her weapon one last check, and she’s out the door before he knows it. She probably just wants to see me get my ass handed to me, he thinks, but it’s not a big deal. He wants to prove her wrong.

Sure enough, the sound of robotic footsteps pounds ominously against the pavement outside. Elliott casts a decoy and stations it next to the door, hoping to buy him a few more seconds. Shnk! An arc star slams into the already fragile door and begins to whine. Elliott throws himself backwards, deeper into the building, and shields his face against the explosion. The door disintegrates into bits, and the sound is deafening in his ears. An orange silencer hits the ground with a sinister whoosh, and Elliott backs up more, leveling his Prowler as his decoy dissipates into the air. 

Revenant charges through the open door and through his silencer, hefting his Eva-8 once more. Elliott fires the Prowler, and the bullets smatter against the simulacrum’s shoulders, barely missing his head. Elliott curses under his breath and dodges out of the way as a volley of pellets exits Revenant’s gun. The bullets connect with his shoulder and arm and Elliott cries out in pain. He casts a decoy and sends it running right at Revenant to give himself more time to reload. Revenant grunts in frustration and nearly pulls the trigger again just as Elliott takes aim. 

A full magazine of ammo assaults Revenant’s head and chest, and he goes down immediately, his shields melting into nothingness. “Damn you, skinsuit!” Revenant screams, trying to crawl away. But it’s no use- Elliott finishes Revenant off, sending another magazine of ammo right into his metal head.

“Murderbot down!” he shouts over the comms, heaving a sigh of relief. “What’s happening out there?” He loots Revenant’s backpack and heals up while he waits for an answer.

“Two squads down!” Octane crows, sounding extremely proud of himself. “You’re really missing all the fun out here, amigo!”

“Hey, I took care of Revenant, didn’t I?” Elliott replies indignantly as he plunges another syringe into his wrist. “You all should be thanking me.” He’s being cocky and he knows it, but it’s so much easier than admitting he fucked up in the heat of the moment.

“Sounds like you’re two for two with him, Witt,” Anita calls, breathing hard from her and Octane’s fight. “Good work. Keep it up.”

Elliott raises an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by Bangalore’s open praise. “Wow, thanks, Anita! I’m touched, really. You do have a heart.” “Don’t make me regret it, kid.”

“All right, all right, fine.” He smiles and zips up his backpack, and then realizes that Bangalore really isn’t that much older than him. “Hey!”

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

kzzzhhhCRACK!

Shit.

A Sentinel bullet just barely misses Elliott’s nose, and he dives back under the scaffolding. His heart is racing and his pulse is pounding; this match has barely given him and his team time to breathe. They’ve just finished a ridiculous fight in which four different squads had piled up on each other, and he’s absolutely covered in blood and gunpowder. The only perk of continually fighting so many people is that he and Octane and Bangalore are fully kitted with every item they could need. Bangalore is taking a Phoenix kit and Octane is still for once, just getting finished with charging his shields. The banners report that there is only one other squad besides them, and Elliott is grateful. He’s had about enough of being third partied.  

Elliott reloads his Prowler with shaking fingers and checks his Triple Take. After making sure the digital sight is correctly slotted, he takes a deep breath and aims up towards Cage. Through the sights, he can see Wattson’s fences crackling around each of the entrances to the upper part of the tower. Caustic’s intimidating form glows red for a moment and then disappears behind the railings. Dammit, Elliott thinks. Wattson’s fences plus Caustic’s gas make for a deadly combination, and an annoying one at that. The only thing that made that duo worse was Bloodhound being on their team, and if that charged Sentinel shot was any indication, Elliott and his team had a miniscule chance of winning if they rushed the tower. 

“Who’s up there, amigo?” Octane asks, clearly ready to go. He’s literally vibrating with anticipation, and he makes Elliott exhausted just by looking at him. 

“Caustic, Natalie, and Bloodhound,” he sighs, and ducks back into cover. “They’re set up in there like it’s a goddamn fort. Gonna be impossible to charge up in there.” He wipes sweat from his forehead and leans back against one of the posts.

“Well, where’s the next Ring at?” Bangalore questions, pulling out her holomap. She pinches her fingers and zooms in on their location, squinting hard. “Damn,” she swears, and dread fills Elliott’s chest. “The top of Cage is just barely inside the next Ring.” She snaps the map shut angrily and stuffs it back into her pockets.

Octane swears under his breath. “Looks like today’s just not our day,” he says, itching at his cap. He stands and peeks up above their hiding spot, just barely poking out of cover. kzzzhhhCRACK! His body flies backwards, his helmet blinking out of existence, and he scrambles back down to them, sheepishly pulling out a shield battery.

Elliott groans, amused and frustrated. The chances of them feasibly winning this match are fading fast. There’s no way they’ll be able to get up there undetected, and the thought of fighting upwards made Elliott exhausted. He’s so tempted to just recklessly run in, but something stops him. 

Bloodhound wouldn’t give up, and neither should you.

He sighs, knowing it’s true. Bloodhound would find any way they could to dominate the situation and reshape it to their will. He’s jealous for the millionth time, and has to remind himself that Bloodhound is human and fallible too, even if he still doesn’t really believe it.

“All right, we’ve got a couple options,” Mirage says, rubbing his chin. “Either we wait them out, or we can charge up there head on before the Ring closes. Personally, I’d vote for smoking them out, but I’m not the one with the missiles.” He inclines his head towards Bangalore.

Anita considers this, then shakes her head. “Neither of them are ideal options. Waiting them out would give us the upper hand, but we could also take them by surprise by charging them now. We’d have to take out all the traps though.” She breaks off, still thinking intensely. “But if we wait for them to charge, we’ll have to deal with Bloodhound’s Ultimate plus Caustic’s gas. The next Ring is small enough that that’ll make the battlefield hard to navigate. Plus, my smoke will be pretty much useless. Bloodhound’s Eye will make sure of that.”

Elliott has to agree with that. He’s been trying to avoid thinking about them all day, but of course they’re on the last enemy squad. The way they had run out of the bar the night before made him extremely concerned, and his stomach churns when he thinks of how stiff and cold they had become. Elliott doesn’t completely know what he did wrong, but he knows he must have brought up something painful for them to leave as abruptly as they had. 

But the memory of holding their hands in his makes his cheeks burn a little. He remembers how their grief had rolled off of them in waves, and how he’d felt so utterly helpless. Still, he’d felt closer to them than ever before, even though they were separated across the bar. Their openness had intimidated him a little bit- they were so naturally talented at making him feel better, and reciprocating definitely wasn’t his forte. But most of all, he had been stunned to the core by what he had told them. He would never be able to look at Epicenter the same way again.

“Witt!” Anita barks, and the way she says it tells Elliott that it’s definitely not the first time she has called to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Ring’s closing in 30,” she warns. “We’re charging up the tower. How many times do I have to tell you to get your head out of your ass?”

“At least a few times more,” he fires back, rolling his eyes. He’s frustrated, but mostly at himself for getting distracted. “Sorry. I’m good to go.”

Anita does not look convinced, but she just sighs and turns back to her map. “All right. I’ll call in my missiles. Ring should be small enough to cover the whole area. Silva, try to get behind them. Witt, you throw us some clones whenever you’ve got them. I’ll toss in some smoke to keep them blinded. We’ve all got at least one digital scope, so that should give us an edge once we get up top.” 

“Sounds good, amiga,” Octane agrees. “They won’t know what hit them!” He’s fidgeting with his butterfly knife, and Elliott is one hundred percent positive that Ajay is going to have to deal with his sliced fingers sooner or later.

Elliott nods as he flips on the full-auto mode on his Prowler. His limbs are aching and he’s drenched in sweat, but he’s determined to see this through. Anita’s plan is pretty solid, and he’s got few qualms with it. Her expertise on the battlefield is something he’s always been grateful for. Careful planning and meticulous strategy were certainly her strengths, and she regularly put his on-the-fly ideas to shame. 

She checks over her weapons and then pulls out her Ultimate grenade, just as a warning horn blares over the loudspeakers. “Let’s give them a show.”

The Ring moves swiftly, advancing across the plains of green grass with an ominous humming noise. Elliott only has a few seconds, but he peeks back through his sniper sights to see what’s happening in the tower. Bloodhound is still crouched next to the steel fences, and he’s sure they have an easy shot on him. But they don’t fire. They look away from their sights and shrug at him, as if to say, Show me what you are made of. A peculiar heat drops into his stomach.

He looks back through the sights for a split second, but his heart drops into his gut when he realizes they had forgotten something absolutely essential. “Anita, wait! Wattson’s py-”

But it’s too late- Bangalore cocks her arm back and lobs the canister forwards, a shower of red sparks whizzing through the air. Missiles crash into the ground, and Elliott groans out loud. “Shit,” he hisses, punching the ground next to him. As the missiles advance forward, brilliant sparks of blue arc out into the sky over a limited radius, zapping the rockets away like they’re nothing more than flies. 

Bangalore groans, immediately popping to her feet. “Come on, we’ve got to go!” She takes off running towards Cage, just barely ahead of the rockets as they begin to detonate. 

The ground starts to heave beneath his feet, and Elliott stumbles as he starts to run. Bangalore is much more accustomed to sprinting across the roiling earth, and she does so with ease and grace. Octane weaves in and out of the explosions at an inhuman pace, pulling out his jump pad as he goes. “Vamonos!” he cries gleefully, laughing as he soars into the air.

Elliott can barely keep up, and he can feel the heat at his back as he goes. He nearly trips and falls, but recovers at the last possible second. His entire body is killing him, and he can feel sweat running down his spine as he runs. God, this whole thing is starting to feel hopeless again. He can see it now- they’ll run up to Cage and Caustic will drop gas canisters everywhere, leaving them a minefield of fumes. Wattson will fence up all the entrances and neutralize their grenades, and Bloodhound will weave across the battlefield, taking Elliott’s team out without a second thought. He figures that Bangalore and Octane can easily hold their own for at least a while, but there is no plausible victory for him today. 

He’s never felt this hopeless, this reluctant to try and win a match, and it scares him a little. Elliott tries shoving the thoughts away- he doesn’t have time for his self-deprecating tendencies. But the doubt creeps into his veins and stubbornly sinks in its claws, making it really hard to think without immediately assuming the worst. He feels antsy, anxious to just get this over with and go back to his apartment above the bar to sulk for the rest of the day.

Show me what you are made of.

He swears he hears Bloodhound’s voice in his head, and the thought suddenly bolsters his confidence tenfold. Mirage throws a decoy out through the smoke ahead of him, hoping that Bloodhound takes notice of it and not him. Shifting the Prowler in his hands, he winces as the rockets nearest to him detonate, throwing him off balance again. They’re almost to Cage, and he starts to sprint towards the stairs on his left. G7 and Triple Take shots ring out towards him, narrowly missing his running form. He makes it to the steel tunnel and scrambles inside, holding his breath as the last few rockets explode. He hears the horrible screech of shredding metal, and takes bizarre comfort in knowing that the enemy team is that much more exposed up in the tower as the doors explode. A high pitched noise plays over the speakers, and he knows that the final Ring will soon begin to close.

I’ll show you.

“Where’s everyone at?” he hisses through the comms, his pulse roaring in his ears. He’s going to win this game if it kills him, dammit. 

“Ground floor,” Anita answers, and he hears her breathing hard. “Got hit by a couple bullets, but I’m healing up.”

“Second floor,” Octane says, not sounding tired in the slightest. “The rockets busted through a couple fences, so we’ve got an opening, but we gotta go fast.”

“Got it,” Elliott says, his mind whirring. “Williams, got any ideas?”

“Always,” she replies steadily. “Send out some decoys and try to join us down here. The zipline on the south side is still in the Ring, so we’ve got our point of entry. If we try to make it around to the other one, we’ll be toast. Only Silva has any chance of running in and out of the Ring and making it out alive.”

“Hell yeah, chica!” Octane laughs, ridiculously upbeat and much too excited for this. “I’ll be faster que un conejo!” 

Elliott’s minimal Spanish comes in clutch, and he rolls his eyes. “Sure, buddy. Just don’t get yourself killed up there. There’s a hunter waiting for you.” He checks over his weapons, and after considering it for a moment, he takes the digital threat sniper optics off of his Triple Take. He’s not going to need it now- they’ll be fighting in too close of quarters for him to be effective with it. Best shotgun in the Games, he thinks, laughing at his own joke.

“All right, coming for you guys in three, two, one!” Elliott sprints out of the tunnels, sending all of his decoys spiraling in different directions. As expected, bullets begin to pepper the ground around him as he runs towards an entrance. The Ring is blocking off the two low slats at the bottom of Cage, so he makes his way to the west side door. kzzzhhhCRACK! A Sentinel bullet collides with the top of his head, and he screams in pain, launching himself into the double doors. They give way, and he stumbles inside, slinging off his backpack as he goes. 

“S-shit,” he stutters, rooting through his bag for a Phoenix Kit. He locates one and stuffs his arm into it, his whole body shaking. Anita is there in an instant, tossing down a cover of smoke just in case any of the enemy team had decided to drop down to try and finish Elliott off. No such footsteps are heard, and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief.

Time is quickly running out, and the three of them really need to move. “Okay, we’ve gotta get up there fast. This is gonna suck, but I’d rather go down fighting,” he pants as the Kit finishes healing him. 

“Already on it!” Octane is somewhere above them, and Elliott hears the whirring noise of a zipline. He looks to Anita, who runs up the ramp and disappears out of sight. Elliott clambers to his feet and follows, willing his hands to stop shaking. 

“I’m gonna take out the doors!” Octane announces, and Elliott hears a frag grenade skip across the metal above him. There’s a huge boom, and the doors shred into bits, the noise of it wrenching through his ears. Gas hisses and spews just as Elliott clambers to the open third floor, and Octane begins to cough. “Dammit!”

The smaller man drops down to them via the zipline and immediately pops a shield cell. “I busted the traps, but Señor Apestoso just sent down more.” 

“It’s fine,” Anita replies shortly. “Is the pylon still up?”

“Yeah, but it’s out of the Ring, so the circle barely reaches them.” 

“Can you shoot it down?”

“No, it’s in a really weird spot. Kind of hiding up there. You gotta be in the middle of the room to shoot it down, and that’s a no go.”

Anita swears, but Elliott smiles, a fantastic idea popping into his head. “Not a problem. Let’s get back up there and send in some distractions,” he says. He hopes to God that things work in their favor, and he readies his Prowler before jumping to the zipline. 

His jump pack carries him up, and as he lands he dives to the right, dangerously close to the wall of the Ring. Both doors have indeed been demolished, and so has Wattson’s fence. One post still sits next to the opening, barely blocked by two of Caustic’s gas traps. Elliott shoots the traps down, but a third one comes flying down to take its place. He’s too close to it, and it goes off, releasing fumes everywhere. Gas clouds his vision and chokes his lungs, and he tries desperately to back up enough to be out of it, but the Ring is too close. Sticking a syringe into his wrist, he dips out of the Ring for just a moment. The orange energy field bites into his skin, and he groans in pain, every nerve on fire. Damn, Natalie, way to go, he thinks wildly. Even in the middle of a match, he can still admire his friends’ expertise and genius, and Wattson’s engineering of the Ring is no exception.

The gas cloud dissipates and Anita and Octavio zip up, landing beside him. She shoots in a canister of smoke, and Elliott acts immediately. A decoy sprints through the busted doors, stopping just short of the edge of the Ring. Octane dashes into the room after sticking a stim into his veins, a green blur of activity that Elliott can’t quite follow. He skirts the edge of the Ring and throws a frag up onto the top floor, but it’s zapped away by Wattson’s pylon. A tattoo of bullets beats down onto the metal, and Elliott cringes, willing Octane to get out of there as his decoy disappears in a shower of blue sparks.

“Octavio, come on!” he yells. But Octane is fast, of course- he weaves through the barrage of fire with ease and comes skidding to a stop just outside the doors.

“Told you, amigo!”

“Not the time!” Elliott says, his heart pounding. Anita shoots in another canister and Elliott puts his plan into motion.

Another decoy runs lazily across the floor with a snap of Elliott’s fingers, and pretends to check the pouches in its belt. The three enemies upstairs do not shoot, having caught on to Mirage’s tricks. Anita sneaks in behind it, examines the radius of Wattson’s pylon, and makes a calculated throw with an arc star. To Elliott’s delight, it slips up above them and connects with Caustic’s foot before spectacularly exploding in a wave of dizzying energy. Elliott feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he takes advantage of the distraction.

He aims his Prowler up and fires, and the pylon crumples to the ground in a series of deafening crackling noises. His decoy hadn’t been a decoy at all, and the adrenaline of his plan actually working floods into his chest like a rush of water. His celebration is short-lived though- the sting of bullets begins to slam across his shoulders, and he releases all of his decoys. The cloaking does its job, and he takes a brief moment to hurl a thermite grenade up above him before sprinting out the doors. Wattson’s fences putter out, roasted by the flames, and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief. 

He cheers out loud as he heals up, his body shaking in delight and shock. It had actually worked! But the job was not over yet- even though he can hear the other team groaning in pain up above him, he knows they still have to finish them off. 

“Let’s go!” Anita calls, and she ascends the zipline, closely followed by Octane. Elliott rounds the corner, reloading his Prowler. Just as he makes it to the zipline,  Caustic throws down another trap, which Elliott narrowly avoids before shooting down. 

The steady chak-chak-chak of a hopped up P2020 rings through the air, and a collection of bullets from Octane’s gun collides with Caustic’s face and chest. Octavio moves to reload, but Nox catches him with a deadly Mastiff shot straight to the head, shattering the smaller man’s shields. Elliott ascends the zipline and unleashes a full clip of ammo into Caustic’s arms and neck, finishing him off quickly, but Octane takes a bullet from Wattson across the way, and he falls to the floor, unconscious. 

Anita fires a full clip of ammo into Wattson’s chest, and the engineer falls to the ground, wincing and gasping. She finishes her off, but the older woman breathes hard, clearly having taken a considerable amount of bullets from somewhere as Elliott was helping Octavio. Sure enough, the percussive barrage of an R-99 shatters the brief silence, and Anita falls to the ground, swearing. 

Bloodhound emerges from the opposite corner of the room, and Elliott does not hesitate. The warning horn of the closing Ring roars out, and Elliott leaps down from the upper level, knowing there’s absolutely zero chance of reviving Anita. A few quick bullets follow him, but Bloodhound is smart enough to not completely track his erratic movement. Elliott sprints across the floor and out the doors, throwing himself off the tower and onto the grass below.

He hits the ground running, ankles and knees screaming in protest, and he thanks his lucky stars that Bloodhound can’t keep the high ground. He hears them roar in that deep, otherworldly fashion, and his stomach drops straight into his toes. The Triple Take slides into his hands as he turns, and he watches in awe as Bloodhound leaps off the tower far more gracefully than he had, surrounded by crackling red energy. He backs up, takes aim, and fires twice, but the spread of bullets is too wide and each bullet whizzes past their glowing form. He has to remind himself not to stare- it’s not the time to dwell on how powerful and majestic they look, nor is it time to listen to how heavy they’re breathing and worry if they’re okay. Elliott fires again, and the shot connects, but a torrent of bullets smashes into his chest. He swears, fumbling the Prowler back into his hands. In a panic, he sends a decoy running straight at them to give him more time, but Bloodhound shoots it down. They bob and weave, taking a second to reload. 

Elliott takes his chance. He breathes deeply, centering himself, and aims the Prowler right at their head. Time seems to slow, just like it had with Revenant, and he applies the slightest bit of pressure to his trigger finger. The bullets fly out of the gun, and he doesn’t feel the recoil at all. Every bullet finds its mark on Bloodhound’s head, obliterating their golden helmet and sinking into their mask.

Bloodhound drops to the ground and convulses for a moment before going horribly, eerily still.

Shock washes through his stomach, and he drops the Prowler. A buzzing fills Elliott’s ears. He… he actually did it? He… beat Bloodhound?

He approaches Bloodhound’s unconscious form slowly, feeling like he’s in a dream, and stares at them. They look so peaceful, even though blood is leaking from their helmet down into the grass. He picks up their R-99, weighing it in his hands. A flash of memory and feeling comes to him from a few days before- Bloodhound picking up his gun and placing it over his sternum…

Mirage settles the R-99 across their chest gently. As he falls to his knees, a flash of pain crosses his chest. He knows he should feel triumphant- ecstatic, even- but the only thing he feels is sorrow. 

Elliott picks up their arm, crosses it across their stomach, and murmurs, “forgive me” as victory music roars over the loudspeakers.