#Finger Safe Power Terminal blocks

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XXI

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General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 5.9K

A/N. Just a friendly reminder to revisit the general fic warnings. 

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29 Relona

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” Kazi asked. 

Cody grumbled under his breath as he shut the aircar’s door. “I need to walk out the pain. It helps with recovery.”

“Yeah”—she eyed his pronounced limp—“I don’t think that’s how healing works.”

“I’m fine.”

Rolling her eyes, she started along the walkway. Cody hobbled beside her. Above, storm clouds enshrouded the sky, an unusual chill in the air. Unrelenting rain had drowned Hollow’s Town the last four days—hence Cody’s injury. 

Two days ago, he and Wolffe were hiking, enjoying the brief respite from the rain, when they were caught in a sudden downpour. Poor vision and hazardous trails resulted in the ground giving away. Cody pulled a muscle catching himself before he fell over a sheer cliff’s edge. 

The injury prevented him from accompanying Wolffe, Fox, and Nova on a last-minute mission yesterday evening.

“It’ll be simple,” Wolffe had assured her as he laced his boots. “We get in, grab our buddies, and get out.”

“You’re breaking into an Imperial jail,” she muttered. “Nothing about this is simple.”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “You worried about me, Ennari?

“Cody will be inconsolable if you don’t return.” 

A glance in the kitchen revealed the injured man hobbling to the counter, reaching for a knife. Daria smacked his hand and ordered him to sit back down. Annoyance narrowed Cody’s eyes but he didn’t argue, collapsing into a stool at the bar and drumming his fingers against the metal. 

Kazi gave Wolffe a pointed look. 

“Cody prefers to be out in the field,” Wolffe said. He pushed himself to his feet, the black suit he wore tight-fitting, the chest and shoulders armored. 

She pursed her lips. “Just be safe.”

“I always am.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

Wolffe played with the end of her braid. “I’ve always had a reason to return.”

Sighing, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment. 

A surprise mission wasn’t uncommon for the men, and she knew Wolffe had broken into high-security places countless times before. But something about this extraction—something about the sheer randomness and minimal details available—unnerved her. 

Somewhere inside, buried and locked away and ignored, was the real answer for her apprehension. Her…fear.

“Kazi.” Wolffe drew closer, the expanse of his shoulders blocking out the house beyond. He reached for her jaw. “I’m going to return.”

“I know.” She mustered a smile. “Just…watch your back.”

He grinned. “Guess I need your dragon buddy.” 

Trailing a finger across his cheek, she smiled wider. “She’s all mine.”

“Hmm.” His lips warmed a spot behind her ear. His voice lowered as he murmured, “When I return, I’m going to fuck you with my tongue. And this time”—he licked the shell of her ear; her breath hitched—“we’re not stopping after one. I’m going to spend a good, long while with you.”

A sharp whistle from Fox and Wolffe kissed her, brief yet tender, tucked one of her braids behind her shoulder, and then hugged Neyti goodbye. 

The men were supposed to return late tomorrow night. If all went well.  

“When did stormtroopers start patrolling here?” Cody interrupted her thoughts. Wariness hardened his tone as he adjusted his poncho, the combination of the stormy skies and his hood masking his features.

Kazi followed his gaze to the end of their walkway. Two armed stormtroopers were marching toward them, their armor pristine. Pausing beside a bench, Cody pretended to relace his boots, his hand sweeping across his upper thigh. Kazi positioned herself between him and the troopers, shielding his reach.

“A routine check,” she explained quietly, appraising their surroundings. Businesses were open but few patrons busied the walkways; such a contrast to a few months ago. “They’re keeping an eye on the Marketplace. For contraband. I received the update this morning at work.” She rolled her eyes. “The magistrate believes contraband is a sure sign of rebel activity.”

Cody tapped her thigh in warning. Booted footsteps alerted her to the approaching stormtroopers—they could use a lesson in stealth from Wolffe and his brothers.

“Why don’t we take a break, Grandfather,” Kazi said, placing a hand on Cody’s back. The muscles beneath his poncho were rigid. “We’ll make it back in time for supper. I promise.”

The stormtroopers passed, turning a corner, and disappearing from view.

Straightening, Cody shot her a scathing scowl. “I do not look like a grandfather.”

“You’re hobbling like one,” she remarked. He scoffed.

They continued on their path. 

A breeze flitted through the air. Kazi breathed it in. Signs above the walkway’s shops creaked, and vined trees jumbling the walkways rustled. 

As they neared the edge of town, the walkways hushed, emptied, the jungle looming beyond; soon Kazi and Cody were alone.

“There was a time,” Cody said, his voice pensive, “I thought the Empire stood for good.”

The jungle encroaching the walkway thickened, and signs of civilization retreated. Old raindrops pattered from leaves larger than Neyti. Kazi slid a look in his direction, listening.

“I served the Empire for a year.” Cody ducked beneath an overhanging branch, holding it back for her. She nodded her appreciation. “I led some of the Empire’s most covert operations. Infiltrated planets. Put an end to their rebellions. And all that time, I thought I was restoring peace. I was convinced we were bringing security to a galaxy destroyed by war.” He chuffed a rueful chuckle. “Instead, I was instilling terror and hurting people already suffering.” 

A handful of slowed paces passed. Kazi regarded him from the corner of her eye. “Why did you desert?”

His throat bobbed. “I was sent to Desix. To stop a Separatist siege and relocate a governor. She wanted peace for her people. We tried to solve the situation diplomatically. But when she surrendered, I was ordered to kill her.” 

Her eyes widened; it shouldn’t have surprised her, the brutality, but still.

“I couldn’t do it,” Cody said softly. “My sniper went through with it, and I realized…I was wrong. All I had believed in was wrong.”

A modicum of disbelief, consternation, disrupted his usual stoicism. 

“The Empire knows how to manipulate people to support its cause,” Kazi said. Through a break in the trees, the gray stone of Neyti’s school revealed itself, a lonely moon. “The propaganda—the lack of information against the Empire—is so convincing. It makes people think they’re part of something bigger and that what they’re doing is good. You’re not the only one the Empire manipulated.” 

“I wasn’t manipulated by the Empire,” Cody said flatly. “The Empire gave me purpose. A new cause to fight for.”

She frowned. “But the chips—”

“Made us kill the Jedi.” His voice was curt, inflectionless. “That was it. Everything else…I did of my own free will.”

Wiping away a raindrop, she glanced at Cody. He was staring straight ahead, his chin lifted, his jaw clenched. 

“Some of the intel I’ve collected for the network has targeted certain people,” Kazi said after a moment. Lifting her face to the darkening skies, she swallowed. “Sure, they’re working for the Empire, but maybe they didn’t have a choice. Maybe they’re trying to protect their loved ones and this is the only option. But the network…the network gets rid of those people. Some kid out there no longer has a parent, and I bear some responsibility for that.”

Concern for Neyti and Daria had convinced her to ignore that part of her work. To absolve herself of guilt. But maybe she wasn’t better than the Empire’s sycophants. Maybe they shared her same line of thinking. 

Then again, it was easier to view these situations through a black-and-white lens. Good versus evil. Right versus wrong. Never mind that morality was subjective. 

Eventually they arrived at Neyti’s school. 

A bench, shadowed by swaying trees, offered them shelter from the other parents milling about. Cody leaned against the school’s exterior, his sigh content. Kazi decided not to remark on the consequences of pride.

“You know what power the Empire wields,” Kazi said quietly, watching a monkey hunker on a tree across the playground. “And you know the rebellion is spread too thin and is too small. Do they even stand a chance?”

Cody stretched his legs. “The Empire is militaristically stronger than the rebellion. It also has the resources necessary to win a war.”

“But this isn’t war. This is rebellion.”

“Two different things.” His hand settled on his thigh—the thigh strapped with a blaster. “To win a war, you have to eradicate your opponent. The Empire is attempting to do that right now. What the generals and Moffs don’t realize is that they’re not at war. They’re dealing with a different battleground.”

The calculation lining his forehead, the strategy narrowing his eyes, revealed the commander he so adeptly hid at the house. It was the same look Wolffe got whenever she watched him in the morning or late evening as he prepared for his missions. The brothers even shared the same, furrowed line between their eyebrows. 

“War tactics aren’t effective against internal rebellion,” Cody said. “The Empire requires control and order to operate efficiently. Rebellion creates chaos and doubt. It spreads quickly and vastly. To destroy a rebellion, you have to subjugate the people completely. Small forms of rebellion are necessary to undermine complete subjugation.” He tapped a hand to his thigh. “Will the rebellion pay off? I don’t know. But it will weaken the Empire.”

Kazi crossed her arms over her chest. “So, the rebellion isn’t as ineffectual as I thought it was.”

“It makes a difference. Can’t say anything else, though.” Cody considered her. “Something happen?”

The monkey stretched, canines flashing as it yawned, and then padded deeper into the jungle. Kazi clasped her hands in her lap. “Is it selfish to…not join the rebellion?”

Cody frowned. “Explain.”

“I told Carinthia that I won’t put the rebellion first.” She searched his face. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Sighing, Cody nudged her arm. “You’re not a bad person for wanting to live.”

“I didn’t say anything about living.”

“I know.”

Looking away, Kazi scanned the sky. Pointless since Wolffe wouldn’t return until tomorrow. “Do you consider your missions rebellion?”

“I do.”

“You’ll never stop, will you?” 

“I won’t.” Cody shrugged. “I’m not like Wolffe or Fox in that manner.”

She eyed him. “I thought Wolffe wouldn’t stop either.”

“Wolffe…” He hesitated. “Wolffe is on a different path. One he always wanted but never thought he could have.” 

Minutes passed as Kazi mulled the cryptic reply, the creak of the jungle’s elder trees eclipsing the silence between them. 

Something seemed to be on Cody’s mind, too, but Kazi didn’t press him, letting him stew. It was good for the soul. Or so she told her therapist, once, when the professional had tried to convince her that bottling her emotions wasn’t healthy. 

But Kazi was her father’s daughter: She was loved and adored because she was a good little girl who smiled and laughed and never questioned him; never doubted him or made him angry. 

Anyway, emotions were a vulnerability to be exploited. To protect herself, to retain an image of perfection, improper emotions were to be controlled. Hidden. She was her mother’s daughter, too, after all. 

Cody angled his head toward her. The scar along his temple pronounced beneath the gray skies. “I’m not going to hurt Daria.”

Kazi grimaced. Months, she had spent months avoiding this conversation—avoiding it with Daria. It wasn’t her business what her sister did, and it wasn’t her business who her sister pursued. However, Daria was dying, and Kazi couldn’t see her little sister hurt worse.

“You said your missions will always come first,” she said. Cody stilled, and she offered him an unapologetic shrug, her tone casual yet cool. “I can’t be okay with that. My sister deserves better. She deserves to be put first.”

“I know.” Cody tapped his thigh again, his gaze distant on the jungle beyond. “How much longer does she have?” 

“You haven’t—”

“No.” He rolled his neck. “She won’t tell me. We don’t talk about it.”

Kazi tugged on a string of her sweater. “Healer Natasha wants to increase the dosage of her potions. To proactively fight coming symptoms. But we don’t really know. Her symptoms will worsen in the next two to five months, probably, and then she’ll reach a point of no return. We thought she had two years from this last Telona, but…”

“And there’s nothing to be done.” It wasn’t a question, rather a last attempt cloaked in resigned acceptance.

“If there was, I would have found it.” She pulled the string free. “I tried to—”

“I know.” His shoulder knocked hers. “Daria knows, as well.”

Mustering a tired smile, Kazi surveyed the gathering parents, her gaze snagging on Steiner’s mom, Heracli, who offered her a small wave. Kazi returned it with a short nod. 

A figure moved through the crowd, red hair a fiery beacon in the gathering storm. She grew rigid. Beside her, Cody tensed, shifting his hand beneath his poncho.

“What is it?” he demanded.

“It’s Carinthia.” Regaining her feet, she tossed him the keys to the aircar. “If Neyti gets out before I return, take her to the house.”

He started to rise. “I’ll come with you—”

She pushed him down. “I’ll be fine.”

“I have a duty,” he said stiffly. “To Wolffe.”

Waving him off, she walked the length of the school, distancing herself from the front doors and its many eyes. Around the corner, she leaned against the stone wall. Half a minute later and Carinthia appeared, her skin sallow and cheekbones hollowed.

“He shouldn’t be here,” Carinthia said.

Kazi quirked an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“The Empire will be moving across Eluca soon,” Carinthia warned. “You should be more careful.”

She remained blasé. “Noted.”

A tense moment passed as Carinthia regarded her and then she reached into the pocket of her dark brown cloak. Kazi watched, confused, as she retrieved a small jar. The lid flipped open. Seven pills shimmered inside.

Frowning, Kazi leaned closer, analyzing the starry gleam to each pill, its gelatin mold swirling with traces of black. The purple coloring reminded her of a galaxy painting.

“Medicine?” she guessed.

“They’re to be referred to as medicine.” Carinthia shut the lid and passed her the jar. Kazi pocketed it. “Bite into one and it’ll kill you.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you mad?”

Glancing over her shoulder, toward the front of the school, Carinthia lowered her voice. “The network is distributing them to those considered in precarious situations.”

Apprehension pinched her stomach; she fisted her hands behind her back. “I’m not in a precarious situation.”

“The clones are,” Carinthia said. “Should they be caught, they won’t hold up under ISB’s torture. A quick death is a mercy.”

The jar weighed her pocket down, heavy like a fishing ship’s anchor. “This is…” 

“Necessary.” Carinthia drew her cloak closer to her body, and Kazi’s frown deepened: Carinthia looked bonier than usual; her eyes darted furtively from the school to the jungle. “It’s possible you won’t need them, but it’s better to be cautious.”

“Why?” The back of her neck itched, like someone was watching them—Empire or network, it didn’t matter—and Kazi appraised the jungle, too. “Does Command know something?”

Hesitating, Carinthia took a step closer. “There are rumors…that the Empire is relying on assassin clones to do their dirty work.” Her voice was quieter than the breeze as she added, “ISB managed to locate a few central leaders in the network. Their deaths were posed as an accident, but we know they were hunted down.”

“Assassin clones?” Kazi repeated dubiously. “The men haven’t mentioned anything.”

“The Empire has kept things quiet—it was luck we discovered their existence.”

“How many are there?”

Carinthia hefted her cloak. “Unconfirmed, but we think it’s minimal. At the moment. Command is paranoid, though. Bash has become more mistrustful.” 

“Are the men in danger?” Kazi demanded.

“They should be more cautious on their missions, but so far, we believe the assassins are targeting government officials only.” 

“And what about Bash?” Her fists clenched harder. “Is he a threat to the men? Are you?”

Icy irritation glinted in Carinthia’s eyes and she picked at a nail. “I apologize for what I said to you,” she said stiltedly. “You have a family, and I understand why you won’t commit to the network.”

The apology was lacking, but it fit Carinthia. 

“Stormtroopers came by our house,” Kazi said. A single blink was Carinthia’s sole response—she must have known. “Neyti and Daria are now registered under Imperial records.”

Straightening her cloak, Carinthia inclined her head. “I’ll see what can be done.”

The bell rang, and they separated; however, before she rejoined Cody, Kazi assessed the jungle once more. Yellow, bulbous eyes glared back. A monkey, nothing more, and yet she remained on edge as she hurried away.

Near the front of the building, Cody waited for Kazi. A river of younglings flowed, some racing for the playground, others finding their parents. 

“Everything good?” he asked. The hint of concern in his tone overruled his stony expression. 

“Yes.” His silence was doubtful and she leaned closer, whispering, “I learned some new information. We’ll discuss it at the house—” 

“Ms. Lucien.” 

Stiffening, Kazi faced the owner of the voice. Teacher Jaci was strolling toward her, the clack of her heels as sharp as her smile; she stopped in front of Kazi. Beside her, Neyti glared at the ground, bristling. 

“Teacher Jaci,” Kazi greeted, placing a hand on Neyti’s shoulder. At her gentle squeeze, Neyti looked up, anger and regret storming her gray eyes. 

“We had an issue in class today,” Teacher Jaci said. The saccharine lilt to her voice grated on Kazi’s patience. “All the students were asked to write a theme on the benefits of the Empire. Your child refused to write her theme.” Kazi stilled. “She even went so far as to tear up the drawing of our galactic flag she was supposed to be coloring.”

The blood drained from her face but Kazi hastily schooled her features, gripping Neyti’s shoulder harder to hide her trembling. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. Feigning disappointment, she shook her head. “Neyti knows better than to act up in class. We’ll be having a long discussion tonight.”

Teacher Jaci stepped closer, her smile oozed condescension, and she murmured, “Your ideals are quite liberal, Ms. Lucien. I see it in the way you interact with so many different men”—she gave a pointed look at Cody—“and in Neyti’s unusual upbringing. We expect well-behaved younglings in our school. But a child can only be expected to thrive if their parent gives them a stable home life.”

Kazi gritted her teeth.

“I advise starting with certain proclivities of yours.” Teacher Jaci patted her arm, glancing once more in Cody’s direction. “Or else we might have a problem that will require more…official intervention.”

“It won’t happen again,” Kazi said coolly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Rain-flecked trees and dense foliage blurred as Kazi led Neyti and Cody away from the school. 

Her blood was colder than the Ceaian ocean in the winter; her heart beat so loudly, so erratically, like she had swam, hard, for hours.

When they were alone on the walkway, secluded beneath wet branches and vines, Kazi pulled Neyti aside. She knelt beside the little girl.

“You can’t do stuff like that,” she snapped. 

Neyti’s eyes widened. 

“That was dangerous, Neyti.” A sharp twisting contracted in her stomach, so tight she thought she might be sick. She gripped Neyti’s shoulders harder. “You can’t do that. You can’t disobey your teachers. You can’t rip up Imperial flags. Do you understand me?”

Tears welled in Neyti’s eyes and her lower lip trembled. 

Kazi started to shake. “Do you understand me?”

“Careful,” Cody murmured, setting a hand on her shoulder. 

Swallowing, she released Neyti, falling back on her haunches, rubbing the blurriness from her eyes. Her breathing was hoarse. Her hands were trembling. She couldn’t make them stop. Fuck, they wouldn’t stop.

Neyti sniffled, and she looked up. A tear leaked down Neyti’s cheek. Kazi felt her chest cave inwards—regret, remorse, shame punctured her lungs—and she tucked her shaking hands into her sweater’s sleeves.

“I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sorry, Neyti. But you can’t do stuff like that.”

Neyti gulped. Another tear dripped down her cheek. Gently, Kazi brushed it away, and then Neyti was burrowing into her chest, tiny hands clinging to the front of her sweater. 

Small, quiet sobs rocked through Neyti.

“It’s okay,” she said, rubbing Neyti’s back. Hating herself for being the cause of the youngling’s distress. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Eventually Neyti’s sobs turned into hiccups and she pulled away, straightening the wrinkles in her dress, adjusting her dragon necklace. Kazi wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks. 

“What happened today was dangerous,” Kazi said. Neyti toed the ground. “It might not have seemed dangerous, but it could’ve led to something bad. Okay?”

Neyti pointed at Cody and threw up her hands. 

“Listen, kid.” Grunting, Cody knelt to the ground, resting a large hand on Neyti’s shoulder. “What my brothers and I do is dangerous. You’re right about that. But we’ve trained for it. We know what we’re doing. And we know how to keep you, your mom, and Dee safe.” He shook Neyti a little. Lovingly. “But we can’t do that if we’re caught. Got it?”

Abashed, Neyti nodded. 

A low roll of thunder boomed its final warning. Kazi regained her feet, offered Cody her arm which he accepted, and then extended her hand to Neyti. The little girl accepted it but hesitated. She glanced at Cody. He took the hint and started down the path, giving them some space. Once he was far enough away, Neyti looked up into Kazi’s face.

“I wanted to be brave.” The words were a whisper, small and somber. Neyti stared at her. “Like my mummy. Like you.”

“You are brave.” Kazi gripped her hand tighter, her smile small, resigned. “But you don’t have to prove it to others.”

A gleeful laugh danced through the sunroom’s open windows. Kazi chuckled as Neyti, hands cupped together, showed Daria a captured lightning bug. 

Bursts of ochre sparked among the swaying trees, the lightning bugs plentiful in the aftermath of the afternoon and evening’s storms. Daria raised her hand. A bug twinkled in her palm, too. Neyti grinned.

Eager to join her sister and Neyti, Kazi finished watering the bouquet of gray flowers she had bought for Wolffe. Oddly shaped, a skinny bulb with two, symmetrical petals on opposite sides, the flowers reminded her of an aiwha. She thought Wolffe would find them amusing—

“First name: Kazi.” The voice was cold, detached, and she blanched, facing Court. “Last name: Ennari. Correct?” 

Fear fluttered, like a decrepit moth, within her ribcage. 

Night’s shadows embraced Court, creeping around his legs, lurking behind his shoulders. He stepped into the sunroom. One hand rested on his thigh. Instinctively, Kazi backed away from him. Away from the back door, she realized belatedly. 

Court paused. His fingers twitched on his thigh. “I’ll take your silence as confirmation.”

Kazi gripped the watering can tighter. “Is something wrong?” 

“You’re a difficult person to trace.” Court took a step forward. The black of his bodysuit blended into the sunroom’s darkness; camouflage for a predator. “Minimal records. Properly protected datapad.”

The hairs at the nape of her neck raised. Horrified revelation rooted her to the spot. It was Court who had searched her room. Who had moved her datapad. Not Neyti. 

“Clever to make your home base another technologically bereft, backwater planet,” he continued. His tone was deceptively casual, though an inflectionless note carried through it. “Made it hard to get intel on you.”

Moonlight flickered through the dispersing clouds, subtle streaks of silver-blue painting various points of the room. Shadows lingered. Mostly in Court’s dead eyes. 

“But you weren’t clever enough to avoid a security check,” Court murmured. He moved closer. Kazi bumped into the chair behind her, the remnants of water sloshing in the can. “You never registered your sister or the kid. Suspicious. Convinced me to look into you. But I couldn’t find anything.”

Another giggle wandered through the windows to her right. Kazi kept her eyes on Court. Silently prayed Daria and Neyti would stay outside.

“I owe Wolffe my gratitude.” An inhuman smile carved open his mouth. White teeth flashed through the darkness. “Referring to you by your real last name. That was what I needed.” He tossed a datastick onto the game table. It clattered against Wolffe’s puzzle. “Ceaian. Worked for the government. Never confirmed dead or alive after the Purge. Looks like you slipped through. And now you’re keeping with your rebel activity.”

Cold terror slid through her veins. 

“You work for the Empire,” Kazi whispered. Sweat clammed her spine, and her heart started to beat faster. Harder. Like it knew its time was running short. 

“Deserted clones have interfered in our forces for too long. My task was simple.” Court rounded the game table, and Kazi tensed, hefting the water can. “But then you came along. You can imagine my surprise when I learned I had a potential connection to the rebel network.”

Kazi glanced at the living area. If she screamed loud enough, would Cody hear—

“The troopers downstairs won’t answer,” Court said. Her eyes darted back to his. “I didn’t need them interfering.”

“Wolffe isn’t on a real extraction mission,” she said hoarsely.

“It’s a real Imperial holding center,” Court said. “But it was abandoned a month ago.”

She was alone. She was alone with a clone assassin, and Wolffe was possibly dead, and Daria and Neyti were in danger— 

Kazi launched the watering can at Court. He reared back.

“Run, Daria!” she screamed, lunging around the game table. “Get out—” 

The side of her head yanked backwards. Her neck jerked. 

She was falling. Being slammed downwards—

Her back hit the ground.

Glass shattered.

Her lungs collapsed.

The ceiling above darkened and blurred. 

The back of her skull throbbed.

Glass slit her back.

She couldn’t move. 

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t scream at Daria to grab Neyti and run. To find Fehr and hide.

An apathetic face crowded her vision. A gloved hand dragged her wrists above her head and pinned them to the floor, the hold painful. A heavy weight locked her legs in place. 

Silver gleamed in the corner of her eye—a small knife, its sharp edge glinted. She had seen knives like it before, at the shipping docks; she knew they were used for precise, thin cuts.

Court tapped the corner of her eye with the knife’s tip. “I have a few questions.” 

The tip of the knife dug into her skin, just atop her bone. Her breath hitched. He was going to carve her open—he was going to fucking carve her apart and he was going to start with her eye.

Harsh pants seared her throat. 

She started to shake.

Court cocked his head. “Who are your superiors?”

She didn’t want to lose her eye. 

(Her mother’s voice whispered: sunlight in a meadow.)

She didn’t want to suffer. 

But Neyti and Daria were nearby. They were alive, and she had to protect them.

A tear dribbled from the corner of her eye. Glass shifted beneath her, biting into her spine and shoulders; liquid was dampening her trousers, her back. The vase had broken. 

“They use codenames,” Kazi said weakly. “I don’t know their real names.”

Court considered her answer. “Where are their headquarters?”

“I don’t know the exact location.” The knife punctured her skin, and sharp pain needled her face. She shook harder. A warm droplet oozed down her temple. “I don’t know. I swear. I’ve never been told.”

“What are your objectives?”

Another tear escaped. “Scrub data. Steal intel. Keep track of the Empire’s moves and decisions.”

“Who are your contacts on Eluca?”

“I don’t know anyone—”

Her head snapped to the side. A burning sensation seared her cheek. A ringing reverberated in her ears.

Kazi inhaled sharply. Her jaw ached from the backhanded slap. The bones in her cheek felt broken.

“Try again,” Court ordered.

Her lower lip trembled, and she could only stare into that empty, apathetic gaze. “I told you, I don’t know. They don’t tell me who else is part—”

The tip of the knife settled beneath her eyelid, and she squeezed her eyes closed. Braced herself. Tried to slow her breathing. 

But she couldn’t. She was panting. Loud enough it almost dulled the ringing in her ears. 

And she knew it was going to hurt, and she knew it was cowardly, but she would break beneath torture and start talking, and she didn’t give a fuck about the network but Daria and Neyti were unsafe if she talked—

A pop cut through her rasping gasps. 

Warm bits peppered her face. 

Her eyes flew open. 

Court was still staring down at her, his features smooth with indifference, but he was falling. Crumbling. His body slumped atop hers. His head fell beside hers.

The side of his face was black. Scorched. Skin flayed.  

She stared at him. His eyes were unblinking. Even in death, he looked the same.

And then someone was shoving his body aside. Freeing her wrists from his grasp. 

Wolffe knelt beside her, and he was searching her stomach, her chest, her spine, his hands settling on her jaw as he scanned her face. 

“Where’s Neyti?” he demanded. “Where’s Daria?”

“Outside,” she whispered, peering into his face. His features blurred at the edges, his skin so dark the night claimed it. Only his scar and cybernetic remained noticeable, seemingly glowing with silver. Their brightness hurt her head and she winced. “I told them to run.” 

Kazi lurched towards the door. Wolffe held her down. 

“Fox will find them,” he said. His hand tightened on her jaw and she hissed, pulling away. Apology rounded his eyes, though his tone remained hard as he said, “You’ll stay here.”

The familiarity of his voice—the familiarity of the hands cupping her jaw, gentle and tender now—made her chest ache. She reached for his face. His skin was warm beneath her trembling palm. 

“I thought you were dead,” she said numbly. In hindsight, it was nonsensical she assumed he was dead, especially when Court hadn’t even suggested it. Vestiges of her father still scarred her, apparently. “Court said it was a ruse—”

“We realized that.” Wolffe pressed his thumb to the corner of her eye and she winced. His jaw was clenched so tightly she was surprised it hadn’t broken. His eyes were narrowed, and it was rage—pure, unyielding rage darkening his features.

“I thought you were dead,” she repeated. 

“Kazi,” Wolffe rasped. And it wasn’t just rage harshening his appearance; it was fear, unrestrained, sneaking past his defenses. “We received a message from Rex. He said the place was abandoned. We turned around. We’ve been trying to comm you. For hours. Fucking hours—”

“The others were drugged.” Fox stalked into the room, taking in the destruction: shattered glass littering the floor; gray flowers drowned and strewn about. “Nova says they’ll be good in a few hours.” Approaching Court’s body, he toed the dead male’s head, his upper lip curling. “The comms were jammed. That’s why we couldn’t get in contact.” 

A shard of glass stabbed her palm as Kazi pushed herself upright. Wolffe grunted at the blood warming her palm, but she couldn’t feel it. The pain. Anywhere—her shoulders, her neck, her palm. She couldn’t feel it.

“He said he was tasked to do this,” Kazi said. A crumpled flower caught her attention, so small and frail. Broken. “He said that deserted clones have been a problem for too long.” 

“He was going to track us,” Wolffe said, ripping a piece of cloth from his utility belt and pressing it to her bloodied palm. “That’s why he kept Cody and the others alive.”

“Bastard,” Fox hissed. 

“Neyti and Daria are outside,” Wolffe said, gesturing with his chin to the windows. “Kazi told them to run.”

With a final look at Court, Fox disappeared into the backyard.

Distantly, Kazi knew she should be scrambling to find Neyti and Daria. Knew she should be worried. But she couldn’t feel…anything. Only a constricting sensation in her chest. Slowly squeezing her. 

The three moons shone bright, no longer hindered by remnants of storm clouds, their light shimmering on Court’s small, silver knife. She studied it. Her blood rusted its tip. 

“This was Aro’s plan all along,” she said. Wolffe frowned at her, and she started to tremble. Fingers flexed on her shoulder. “The analyses I’ve done for him about deserted clones—he wants to track down the source. He wants to track you.” Her palm started to hurt: stinging, aching. Finally. “There are more like Court out there. Carinthia told me about them—assassin clones—and they’re going to hunt you—”

“Kazi,” Wolffe said gently, softly. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“If Neyti—” She broke off, shaking. Her body started to ache, all over. “If Daria—”

“I know.” 

“If they had been in here—” Inhaling sharply, she tried to calm her breathing. Tried to calm her thoughts and her heart and her fucking breaths. “He would have killed them. Gods, if they hadn’t been outside—Neyti would’ve seen—she’s a fucking kid and she could have seen—”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice broke. “I couldn’t do anything.”

Wolffe skimmed his thumb across her cheek. “I’m going to place a blaster upstairs. For you and Daria. You need to be armed—”

“This can’t happen again.” Her voice sounded hollow but she couldn’t muster the energy to care. 

A blaster wouldn’t solve this problem. Self-defense wouldn’t solve this. 

Shearing a dead branch from a dying tree wouldn’t save the tree. It needed to be cut out, from the roots, before it spread. Infecting the entirety of its environment.

“You can’t bring deserted soldiers here anymore,” Kazi said. The aiwha-shaped flowers were scattered around her, dying a slow death. Better the flowers than Neyti. Better the flowers than Daria. “He could have hurt them. He could have hurt them, and I can’t—I promised Neyti’s mom. I promised her—” 

“All right.” Still pressing the cloth to her palm, Wolffe sought her gaze. “We won’t bring our men here anymore.”

A hoarse, rueful laugh seared her throat. “What about your missions?” He tensed, his expression growing guarded, and she smiled sadly. “They mean too much to you.”

Wolffe worked his jaw for a moment, and then he sighed. “We’ll find another way. My brothers will understand. We’ll strategize a new plan.”

Kazi reached for the flower closest to her. It fell limp, its stem cracked. 

“It won’t last long,” she murmured, pulling her knees into her chest. “You have a duty to your men.” 

Wolffe stared at her. Stared at her like he wanted to say something but he couldn’t decide if he trusted her with the words. Instead, he held her hand harder. “We’ll figure it out.” 

But, for the first time, she wasn’t sure she believed him. 

Masterlist | Chapter 20 | Chapter 22

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter One: Chemical Subjugation

Warning!: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x fem!reader pair. If this is offensive or harmful to you in anyway please keep scrolling. 💜

Summary: The chemicals altering your brain function force you to follow any order. Including, but not limited to, terminating all defectors.

When you first met Yelena Belova you couldn’t stand her. Making your undercover assignment something of a punishment as opposed to a reward.

Seemingly for the first few months she couldn’t remember your name. Mocking your American drawl constantly, referring to you only as ‘Miss American Pie.’

Sometimes she still did. After it wasn’t a jab anymore. The name having taken up a soft spot in her heart. Just like you had.

But it made sense. The two of you together. You were the best. Your relationship served it’s purpose, killing many people in it’s wake.

She teaches you Russian… You’ve never been allowed to learn. English helps prepare the others for future missions, makes them less conspicuous. But you were different in that way. You didn’t require much work.

You can’t recall exactly when it became real. Only that it did. Losing her was worse than any physical pain you’d ever experienced. Once you were free you’d find each other.

Unfortunately Dreykov had other plans, ending in the chemical alteration of your minds. You’ll be his forever…and so would she. His loyal assassins until your dying day.

The more time passes the less you hope for a reunion. Now you hope for peace. Peace for Yelena. Peace for yourself. Even if that means never crossing paths again.

The alert sounds from the travel screen in your pocket, stealing your attention from days gone by. Another defector, it has to be. That’s all they’ve been sending your way.

Your orders are simple. You’re there to kill. Widows have too much information. Too high a risk, a threat to be eliminated.

The target presents itself. Nearly causing the machine to slip from your finger tips.

Yelena Belova. Two blocks south, multi story building, floor nine.

Your legs carry you, mind foggy as you close the distance between point A and B.

She’s there. Exactly where you hoped she wouldn’t be. Tresses of blonde hair held away from her face in two ponytails. She is so beautiful…

What a shame you have to kill her.

“It’s rude not to say hello, Y/N.” Yelena remarks, placing an empty shot glass on the counter beside her.

You lunge from the doorway. “Hello.” Locking one arm around her neck to restrict the airway.

“Come on, Y/N,” Yelena grunts. “Don’t be like that.” Effortlessly, she rears back to toss you over her shoulder.

You’re on your feet again before you can catch your breath. Feeling your hand move, unbidden, to the gun holstered against your hip. “You should run.”

“I have something for you,” she shrugs. As though that justifies putting herself in immediate danger.

“Yelena, please.” You pant, every cell in your body resisting the inevitable pull. Unable hold back you charge again, smashing her backwards through the drywall.

“If you’d stop tossing me around I’d be finished by now,” she huffs, righting herself and reaching into her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Your dominant hand withdraws the weapon, finger straight to the trigger.

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N.” A glowing red vile in her hand.

You close your eyes as the bullet flies toward its target. The one person you never want to hurt.

“What the hell is going on?” An unfamiliar voice sounds in concern.

“Remember when I told you I was looking for someone?” Yelena pauses, closer than she was a moment before. Still safe. Still with you.

“Yeah.”

“She found me.”

Opening your eyes just in time to see flecks of a red dust settle on your eyelashes. Nothing tells you to attack. No one powers your movements.

“Did I hurt you?” You demand, checking Yelena over frantically.

“No,” a smirk tugs at Yelena’s lips. “The bullet missed my head by a mile.” Her hand creeps up to touch the upper cartilage of her ear. Clipped by your bullet and dripping blood down onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize, thankful that her injury isn’t serious.

“Don’t be.” She brushes it off, dropping to her knees. “Then I’d feel bad about this.”

“Bad about what?” You wonder.

Your train of thought is quickly interrupted by a searing pain spreading through your right thigh. You press your lips together, watching as she removes the knife from your flesh. Using her fingers to fish out the tracker beneath.

Hearing your pained hiss she amends the previous statement. “Ok, fine. I feel a little bad.” Yelena confesses, tossing the tracker to the floor.

“We need to move.” The red head frowns, her gaze turned out the window, “your friends are coming.”

Yelena is still fussing over your wound.

“I’m fine.” You bat her hands away.

“Fine.” She rises to her feet. “Last time I try to help you, Miss American Pie.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Natasha scolds you both.

Yelena looks away, “come on.”

“Where to?” You ask, holstering your weapon. Back to business.

“To borrow a car.” Yelena sighs, “unless the two of you want to try squeezing onto my motorbike.”

“Car,” Natasha insists.

“Car it is,” you agree.

“Good.” Yelena yells, just as the door gives way to your assailants. Sending the three of you dashing out the window onto the roof. “We’re getting along so well already.”

Chapter Two: The Perfect Partner Project

[i-lionheart]

Memories | Kylo Ren x Reader

You are Kylo Ren's apprentice and second in command, ruling the galaxy and the First Order at his side. When Kylo notices you acting strange, he calls you to the throne room to investigate.

Before you read: 1.4K words, sfw, fluff, feelsy fluff, hurt/comfort but like... emotional hurt rather than physical, i guess it's technically fem!reader but its only mentioned once (when Kylo calls her "good girl") so make of that what you will

You were surprised to see a message from Kylo Ren when you checked your wristpad. He usually only messaged you when he needed something and couldn't leave the Finalizer's bridge to speak with you face-to-face. Though you had been busy finishing up some work on your ship, he had retired to his quarters almost an hour ago for the evening meal. You opened the message.

Are you still working?

You typed a response.

No. Just finished. Why?

His answer was almost immediate.

Throne room. Now.

On my way.

You typed your final message and swiped the screen of your wristpad, which obediently went black. As you made your way from the docking bay to the throne room, you wondered what he needed so urgently right now. The fleet had spent the day at a supply outpost, gearing up in preparation for your next battle. You had just finished a successful mission and debriefed with Kylo when you had returned around midday, hours ago now. As far as you knew, the First Order was running smoothly, like the well-oiled machine you knew it to be. If something had happened, you would have heard about it.

What could he possibly want that was so urgent?

You arrived at the throne room and scanned your wristpad at the door terminal, as you had a thousand times. The door slid open with a whoosh. You stepped inside, continuing through the corridor that greeted you until it widened into the vast throne room.

The room had once belonged to Snoke, but much had changed since then. Now, walls marked the perimeter of what had once been a half - suspended platform, their previous blood red color replaced with a sleek jet black. Though unseen lights created a dim glow throughout most of the space, a spotlight cast the raised dais in the center of the room - and the figure on the dais's throne- into sharp relief.

Kylo Ren lounged lazily in the throne, legs spread, elbow resting on a thigh, head resting on his hand. He wore only the comfortable boots and simple, breathable long-sleeved shirt and pants that he preferred to his usual robes once he had retired for the day.

As you stepped forward into the room, his eyes settled upon you, taking in your appearance. He regarded you for a moment, and then spoke.

"What's bothering you?"

The question caught you off guard. You looked at him quizzically. "Can't you just read my mind and find out?"

"You're blocking me."

"Again?" you said, surprised. He nodded in confirmation.

"It's worse, today. Usually I can at least read your emotions, tell what you're feeling, how strong it is, maybe even catch a glimpse of what triggered it. Today?" He raised his eyebrows. "Nothing. I've had to surmise what I can from your body language alone."

That was unusual. Kylo was particularly gifted in using the Force to sense the thoughts of others. You were just as Force sensitive as he was, but had spend most of your life forced to hide it, and it had been causing you problems lately. At times, you unconsciously used your powers to throw up walls between your mind and the world. You and Ren had guessed that it was your unconscious way of trying to protect yourself. These mental walls helped stop your emotions from being projected outward and communicated to those around you who might wish you harm, but they also stopped Kylo from getting in, which was a problem. He needed to be able to keep tabs on you. If he couldn't, you were in danger, and you knew it. However, despite the serious nature of the situation, you couldn't pass up the chance to take a jab at him.

You let out a gasp of mock surprise. "You mean you have to read nonverbal cues? Like a normal person? How horrible!" you lamented, sarcastically feigning pity.

Kylo Ren was not a man with a great penchant for jokes, especially when they were at his expense. In fact, most officers in the First Order would probably tell you that he didn't have a comedic bone in his body. But you knew him better. Though he steepled his fingers and lowered his head to his hands, closing his eyes with a sigh of exasperation, you saw the corners of his mouth briefly twitch up into a small smile. You smirked in satisfaction. "I'm right and you know it. Behavior cues are something you have no right to complain about."

He raised his head and looked back at you with a shrewd expression. "And they are why I know that, as much as you attempt to deflect with humor, you are having difficulty. Tell me."

You blushed at the call-out. "It's nothing, really, I-"

He held out a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. "Don't lie to me, little one. Tell me what's bothering you." Though the rebuke was gentle, and his tone was tender, you avoided his gaze, choosing to observe the durasteel floor rather than let him see the shame rising in you.

"It's the memories," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

"It's your mother again, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, I just-" you broke off, feeling a lump rise in your throat. "I just- what if she was right? What if I am broken, what if it is my own fault that I failed for so long? What if I can't keep this up, what if I fail again? I don't know, I just spent all day remembering everything she told me, and I thought..." You finally wrenched your gaze away from the floor, looking up at your Supreme Leader through eyes full of tears, praying that he would see the cry for help in your expression that you were too afraid to put into words. "What if I don't deserve this, either?"

With that final admission of insecurity, you lost what little composure you had left. Silent tears began flowing freely down your face as you sunk back into the ocean of memories that had been threatening to drown you for most of the day.

A voice with all the tenderness and softness of a spring rain cut through your thoughts, pulling you out of your daze.

"Come here, darling."

Obediently, you crossed the throne room. As you approached the dais, you looked up at him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. He had shifted in his seat, his new position an implicit invitation for you to join him on his throne. You kicked off your boots and ascended the dais, gratefully climbing into his lap and bringing your knees to your chest, melting into the body that was so familiar to you. He pulled you close to him, one arm supporting the small of your back, the other hand pressing your head to his chest despite the tears creating ever-growing dark spots on his thin shirt.

"Shhhh," he murmured. "Listen."

Obediently, you quieted your breathing, paying attention to your senses. Slowly but surely, you found the steady sound of his heart beating in his chest.

"Good girl." A pause, then he continued, impossibly gentle. "Now, match my breath." Obediently, you observed the rise and fall of his chest, then adjusted your own to match.

Inhale.

"Good." His hand stroked your hair.

Exhale.

"Just like that, darling. In..."

Inhale.

"...and out."

Exhale.

"You're doing wonderfully."

A moment of comfortable silence. No strife. No memories. No galaxy to rule. Just the two of you, breathing together.

The way you were meant to be.

He spoke again, continuing to caress you. "Remember where you are."

Inhale. Exhale.

"You are here, with me, and you are safe."

Inhale. Exhale.

"You deserve every star in the galaxy, every atom in the universe."

Inhale. Exhale.

"You deserve your place at my side."

Inhale. Exhale.

"Your mother was wrong. You deserve everything you have. And every time you are with me, I thank the Force for allowing me to rule with you by my side."

"Thank you," you murmured, words muffled from being spoken directly into his chest. God, you loved him, but managing to find the words to express that out loud was impossible.

His voice spoke inside your mind.

"Don't bother. I already know."

You felt, rather than saw, the smile that backed his words.

"If the memories ever bother you again, come find me. I'll help you."

A beat.

"You never have to face this alone again."

You sat there, pressed against him, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. Grateful to simply be with someone who had vowed to always be by your side.

"I love you," you thought.

"I know."

-

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging so it can find other people who might enjoy it!

[hoebii]

To the moon

Pairing : JJK x Reader , PJM x Reader

Genre : Angst, fluff, college!Au

Rating : 18+

Warning : Swearing, major character death (disease), symptoms of terminal disease, talking about death, one sided love, pining 

Wc : 3.3k

A/N : Thank you @chemicalpink for being my amazing beta who helped making this fic much more than a hot mess. A huge thank you to @taegularities for making me this BEAUTIFUL banner!! I love this banner so so so much~ and @voiceswithoutlips for letting me use her name in the fic, ilysm <3 I had the idea for this fic for a while and this might be the favourite fic from what I’ve written so far so I really hope it’s good. As usual, hope you guys enjoy this one and feed back is always appreciated~

-------

Jimin could only watch from afar as Jungkook and you danced around within the crowd of people. Usually he could be found in the middle, Jimin was known to be the life of the party after all. But, he couldn’t seem to enjoy himself, not while being sober anyway. 

Downing the drink in his hand, he couldn’t help but wince a bit at the burning sensation as the liquid flowed down his throat. Slapping himself softly a few times he spoke to no one in particular, “Come on, Jimin, you got this. You’ve watched them love each other for years now, what’s one more night?”

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he pushed off the wall he was leaning against. He needed more alcohol if he wanted to survive the night without another heartbreak. Flinging the cup away nonchalantly, he strode towards the kitchen to grab another one. 

Reaching the counter, he grabbed the strongest alcohol he could find and gulped down half the bottle at one go. Would he regret it in the morning? Most definitely. But, did he care now? Not a single bit. 

“Oof, what’s got you drinking your life away?” he heard none other than Jungkook ask, seemingly appearing out of thin air beside him.

Choking on his drink, Jimin hit his chest as he placed the bottle down. Glaring at his smiling best friend, he grumbled, “Don’t scare me like that! I almost had a cardiac arrest, my good fellow.”

“My good fellow? Since when am I a ‘good fellow’?”

“You’re right. You almost gave me a heart attack, assbutt.”

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed two cups out of the stack, “Okay, Castiel. No need to get your panties in a twist now.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wearing anything underneath.”

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he bumped his shoulder with Jimin’s, “How sexy of you.”

Jimin shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he raised the bottle to his lips once again, “Very sexy of me indeed.”

“Alright alright. Stop moping about and drinking your life away and come join us! Y/N was asking where you were,” Jungkook revealed, “we need our third dumbass for the trio to be complete!”

Jimin slumped a little at the mention of you, before straightening up with his trademark flirtatious smirk. Thankful that the boy beside him didn’t notice - or if he did then didn’t comment -, “Aw, is this your way of inviting me to a threesome? Cause I’m in just so you know.” 

Head thrown back in laughter, Jungkook’s shoulders shook, “Yeah dude, we’re gonna have such a sexy time fucking in a frat house.”

“Bet.”

With that, Jimin took one last swig from the bottle before starting towards the main room, “Time to get this party started.”

-------

Jimin woke up to a pounding head with a start, covering his eyes with a hand in a futile attempt to block out the sunlight, he groaned, “Why’d I drink so much last night. Fuck you past Jimin.”

Moving to get out of the bed, he stopped dead in his tracks when he felt something, or someone, wrapping their hand around his torso. Looking down, his eyes widened like saucers as he recognised none other than Kas cuddling up to his bare chest. 

Scrambling to move away, Jimin fell off the bed with a squeak, successfully dragging the bed covers with him. 

Jerking awake, Kas groaned about her lost sleep, looking over the side of the bed to the flabbergasted man on the ground.

“If I knew this was how you started the morning, I’d never say yes to sleeping with you,” she remarked in a gruff tone.

“You- I- We-” Jimin sputtered from his spot on the ground.

“You, I, We, yeah we fucked last night,” Kas said offhandedly, rolling back to burrow into her pillow to fall asleep once more.

Clambering up, Jimin looked around the room he was in, noting that it was indeed, not his - though it was a room he wasn’t a stranger to either -. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Jimin was, put in simple words; a fuck boy. He had slept with a majority of the uni population by now. So it was safe to say Kas’s room was nothing new to him - thanks to his previous rendezvous with her. 

Though it was surprising that he was there at that moment, for he had stopped sleeping around as soon as he realised his feelings for you. Now, most people might do the opposite and excuse their actions with ‘I’m trying to get over them’ but Jimin couldn’t bring himself to do that. He didn’t find anyone else even remotely interesting enough to spend a night with besides you.

“Kas this-” Jimin started but the brunette was faster, waving her arm dismissively as she spoke, “It means nothing, I know. You’re too in love with your best friend, blah blah blah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kas huffed out a laugh, rolling over to face him from the bed, “Why’re you sorry? It’s not like we have feelings for each other.” She continued as she rolled her eyes and smirked playfully, “besides, you’re not my type anyway. I’m more into guys like Namjoon.”

Body sagging in relief, Jimin could only chuckle along as he started gathering his clothes, “You know, I could always give you his number?”

“Then what? I call him and say ‘Hey, I got your number from Jimin after a one night stand. Let’s go on a date.’?”

“I mean, technically you could.”

A moment of silence passed as the two delved into a staring contest of sorts.

“Okay, so I’m gonna go now,” Jimin drawled out, getting dressed as he inched towards the exit, “I’ll text you hyung’s number later, by the way. Do whatever you wish to with that.”

“You’re such a shady fucker, Park,” Kas said jokingly, “how you befriended someone like Namjoon is beyond me.”

With a laugh he left, “See you around, Kas.”

-------

Jimin unlocked the front door of his apartment, not caring about the noise as he was certain that his roommate was out by now.

“Welcome back, man-whore,” Jungkook greeted from his spot on the couch, eyes glued to the TV screen in front of him. 

Jimin’s body tensed instinctively, eyes widening in shock as he looked at his roommate playing video games, “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Yeah but what are you doing here now?”

“Playing video games.”

Jimin sighed exasperated, “Aren’t you usually with Y/N at this time?”

Jungkook mimicked the elder’s sigh to mock the older, “Yeah but she’s busy today.”

Processing the information, Jimin nodded his head, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

“Alright.”

-------

Steam escaped the bathroom as Jimin stepped out, drying his hair with a towel as he walked to his room. Just as he entered, he heard his phone ringing. Looking around the place, he spotted his vibrating phone at the edge of the bed where he had thrown it before going into the shower.

Grabbing the phone, he picked up the call without checking the ID, “Can you please call back? I’m on the other line with my proctologist and he’s trying to explain to me why I have a perfect ass.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

“Ah Jin-hyung! How are you?” 

“None of that. First tell me what the fuck you just said.”

Jimin snickered, moving to sit on the bed, “Don’t worry about it. I usually start calls with the weirdest thing I can think of so if it’s a scam call, they leave me alone.”

“You know,” Jin started, “if you used even half the brain power you use on shit like this while studying, you’d be one of the smartest students in your university.”

“Where’s the fun in that though?” Jimin whined, falling back to lie down, “besides, I’m already one of the top students in our batch.”

“Overconfidence will take you nowhere Park Jimin,” Jin stated.

“Lies. You’re a world renowned model, are you not?” 

“Aish, you’re such a brat.”

Giggling, Jimin switched his phone from one ear to the other, “Only for you. Now tell me how you’ve been! It’s been ages since we last spoke.”

-------

“Fuck! Taehyung focus!” Jungkook shouted into his mic as he killed another enemy, rushing to his friend’s dying avatar and quickly reviving him.

“Sorry, I was drinking some water real quick,” came Taehyung’s reply, “I thought that spot was safe for a quick sip.”

“You were literally hiding in a bush in an open field,” Jungkook deadpanned, throwing a grenade at the building he knew the enemy squad was hiding. 

“Ooh nice one,” Taehyung said as the game announced that he had killed two players with the grenade. 

“Taehyung-ah, only two more players left. If we lose then I’m gonna end you.”

-------

You hissed in pain as another rose thorn pricked one of your fingers, “I hate this so much.”

“Oh cheer up, Y/N. Gardening will never be fun if you’re such a grump!” your grandfather announced, plucking another rose and placing it in his basket.

“I wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t love you so much, grandpa.”

“I love you too, bubbles. Let’s go to that patch now! Be careful though, those have more thorns,” your grandfather beamed like a little kid on Christmas morning as he moved towards the white rose patch.

You could only groan as you dragged your feet to follow him, “Great, more thorns. Yay.”

-------

“Alright, five minutes break for getting water and shit,” Jungkook announced before taking his headphones off. 

He stood up and stretched, feeling his joints crack as he did so. Looking at the clock, he realised that he had been playing for a few hours now. 

“Damn I went so long without moving? No wonder I’m so thirsty.”

Jungkook rolled his neck, hearing some more bones cracking as he walked towards the kitchen to grab some quick snacks. Walking by Jimin’s room, he heard the older man talking to someone.

He was about to move on, having no interest in eavesdropping, when he thought he heard your name. Ignoring his brain that urged him not to listen, he moved closer to the closed door, trying to hear what was being said.

“I don’t know hyung…” he heard Jimin say, “you know how I feel about Y/N. I don’t think I can go on a date with someone else.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he listened. There was a pause, no doubt the person on the other line speaking before he heard Jimin speak again.

“I know I have to get over her, hyung. It’s just,” Jimin sighed, “it feels unfair for the other person, you know? Going on a date with them while I’m in love with Y/N and all.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, he barely held a gasp in as he heard Jimin. He knew that Jimin used to have feelings for you when they were younger so he made sure to ask him before pursuing a relationship with you when he caught feelings for you too. He clearly remembered Jimin telling him that he no longer had feelings for you when Jungkook had confided to him about his growing affections for you. 

Jungkook moved away from the door, shaking his head as he realised that the other man had lied back then. He had prioritised Jungkook over himself. Typical Jimin, he thought.

Not wanting to barge in on Jimin mid call, Jungkook decided that he would speak to him about it later on. With that noted in his mind, he continued his journey to the kitchen to get some snacks. 

-------

Time flew by, days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Jungkook ended up never speaking to Jimin about his conversation, too swept up with university life and finals that came banging on the door. 

It was during that time when Jungkook’s health started deteriorating. It started with him feeling nauseous even though he didn’t do or have anything that might have caused it, then came his loss of appetite. 

Every time he would brush away your and Jimin’s concerned gaze, saying it was just him overexerting himself with all his extracurricular activities and studies. What worried you the most was when he started to drastically lose weight. The once muscular and energetic boy who loved playing outdoor games slowly turned into a sickly and frail boy who no longer had enough energy to move much without getting exhausted. 

Jimin and you tried time and time again to get him to see a doctor and he time and time again waved away your concerns, always dismissing his decline in health with some sort of excuse. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when one day he started to complain about severe back pain and difficulty breathing. You had called Jimin and the two of you rushed to the hospital with the barely conscious boy.

------- 

It was a day like any other, Jimin woke up, got dressed, made some food for himself and his roommate. Checking on Jungkook in the other room as soon as he was done. 

Holding the tray of food in one hand, he knocked on the open door to announce his presence, “Hey Kook. Got your breakfast, we’re having eggs and bacon today!”

Cracking one eye open, the younger man could only give a weak smile, “Morning, hyung.”

Moving to place the tray on the bedside table, Jimin helped him sit up - placing pillows behind him against the headboard so he could lean back and be comfortable as he ate.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin asked as he sat beside the bed, grabbing the food and starting to slowly feed the other. You decided to move in with them after Jungkook got diagnosed with the last stage of pancreatic cancer last year.

Chewing on the egg, Jungkook struggled to swallow before answering, “She went to the department store to grab some stuff.”

Nodding, Jimin fed him another bite, making sure that it was small enough for him to swallow without much struggle. The two continued in comfortable silence, only the scraping of the utensils against the plate and the distant chirping of birds from outside could be heard inside the room. 

It was a beautiful day, so why did it feel as if something was wrong? Jimin could only wonder, his eyebrows furrowed in thought before he shook his head to get rid of the negative thoughts. 

After making sure that Jungkook finished the whole meal and drank enough water, he placed the tray back on the bedside table. Jimin knew that the younger would want to read something to pass the time so he got up to grab a book from his shelf, eyes scanning all the spines before finally picking one he thought the other would enjoy.

Turning, he walked back towards Jungkook and handed him the book, moving to take the tray so he could clean up. 

Before he could leave however, the younger man called his name. Turning to face him, Jimin raised an eyebrow in question, “What’s up?”

“I forgot to talk to you back then but,” Jungkook started, a coughing fit making him pause midway, “I heard you on the phone that day last year. The day after the party where you went home with Kas noona?”

Jimin’s posture straightened, his body tensing as he recalled that day. The only one he spoke to on call, as far as he could remember was Jin. 

Clearing his throat, Jimin walked back to the bed, placing the tray back on the bedside table as he sat by him, “Oh? What about it?”

“I was walking by to grab some snacks when I heard you confessing your feelings for Y/N, hyung.”

It was like someone had just punched Jimin in the throat, a gasp leaving his plump lips as his eyes widened. 

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook smiled softly, “I know you wouldn’t ever try anything. I trust you.”

Jimin didn’t know what to say, opting to grab one of his hands and softly running his thumb over it, “Kook I’m trying to get over her, I swear I am. It’s just a little difficult when you’ve loved someone for years.”

Chuckling, Jungkook placed his other hand on top of Jimin’s, “It’s fine, I don’t blame you. She’s an amazing girl, hyung. Anyone would fall for her.”

The two share a silent moment, though it was a comfortable one. None of them felt the need to speak, just enjoying the little peaceful moment they were sharing.

Jimin felt the grip on his hand tightening, the other’s face turning into one that showed discomfort, “Hyung, I don’t feel so good.”

“What are you talking about? Let me call the ambulance!” Jimin exclaimed frantically, freeing his hand from the younger’s, rushing to go grab his phone from the other room. 

Right as he was about to get up though, a hand grabbed a hold of his wrist. Halting him in his steps.

“Clam down, will you? I don’t want the last thing I see before dying is you panicking like a headless chicken.”

Swallowing back tears harshly, Jimin’s eyebrows creased in concern, “What are you talking about? How are you joking in a moment like this!”

Shaking his head, Jungkook smiled again, voice strained with the effort of him speaking through the pain and fatigue he felt, “No listen, it’s fine. Just make sure to take care of Y/N alright? She might act all tough but she’s as fragile as a flower.”

“Jungkook, please. Let me go get my phone so I can take you to the hospital,” Jimin begged, voice trembling as his eyes glazed over with unshed tears.

Ignoring his pleads, Jungkook continued with a laugh, “We always joked about how one day in the future we’d go to the moon together like in those movies. Guess that won’t be happening in this life, huh?” 

“Fuck Kook, you can! Just let me get the damn phone!” Jimin almost screamed in frustration, rapidly blinking back his tears as his hands shook.

Meeting his eyes, Jungkook only continued smiling, a peaceful look overtaking his feature, “Take her to the moon for me, alright?”

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, but this time he didn’t fight the numbness that took over him. In that moment Jungkook truly felt at peace, knowing that the two of the people he cared so much for would be alright. That they had each other when he wouldn’t be there. 

------- 

That was what you walked in on. The sight of your boyfriend lying on his bed, looking more at peace then you had seen him in the past year. You could almost smile at the seemingly happy moment but the sobbing man beside him indicated something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“What’s going on? Why’re you crying Chimmy?” You asked cautiously, still standing at the door.

Jimin’s head snapped up, his blood shot tearful eyes locking with yours, “He’s gone.”

The grocery bags that you were holding a moment ago were on the ground, the sound of glass breaking heard from inside. “What do you mean he’s gone?” You asked, lips quivering as your voice trembled.

Getting up from his seat, Jimin walked towards you, pulling you into a crushing hug as you started weeping, “You’re lying! He can’t be gone, he can’t leave me!”

Jimin could only hold you tighter, caressing the back of your head as he shushed you gently, whispering an endless string of apologies even though he couldn’t stop crying himself.  

“Please tell me this is some sort of a sick prank you two are pulling on me. Please tell me you’re joking and he’s alright,” you begged, weakly grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging at it in desperation. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, kissing you on top of your head, “Let it out, I’m here for you, moonlight. Just like I promised.”

[thefightingbull]

My Love Will Never Die

“My love, my love, my fearless love,” Jason Todd sang softly to himself as he whirled a crowbar in his hands. “I will not say goodbye. Sea may rise, sky may fall. My love will never die.”

He snickered to himself as he moved down the hallway and back to his home. He knew what was awaiting him in the safe house he’d created for himself on the fifteenth floor of a rotted building. It had long since been condemned but demolition was halted when some crazy asshole bought it.

Jason knew what Slade Wilson, his beloved soulmate, would try once he arrived to that nicely furnished little apartment. There would be explosives, but they might as well be fireworks for all Jason cared. They needed to talk. They needed to be near one another. They needed to see with their own three combined eyes that they were both breathing.

“Go on, go on, go bravely on,” he sang louder to let his paramour know he was close. “Into the blackest night. Hold my breath ‘til your return. My love will never die.”

When Jason reached the door he banged twice, metal on metal echoing loudly down the empty hall and in the place he’d called home since he beat Joker to death with a crow bar. There wasn’t a sound, but that was okay. Slade was a professional after all. He wouldn’t give himself away by doing something silly like leaping or crying out in alarm.

Even if he was surprised.

“My heart, my heart, my drowning heart. Oh, all the tears I’ve cried,” Jason continued as he gently opened the door. He looked straight ahead at the sight of a maskless Deathstroke and smiled softly. “Oh, I may weep forevermore. My love will never die.”

Slade didn’t appear disturbed or impressed by Jason’s love song. Pity. He knew the man’s enhancements well enough to believe he’d heard the bulk of it. Even if Slade hadn’t been enhanced, Jason didn’t doubt for one second that there wasn’t a feed of information being transmitted to him with any sound made in the apartment.

Jason’s dearest love was too good at what he did to miss a chance at Jason’s return.

“How many times have you died?” Slade asked.

That caught Jason off guard as he tilted his head. “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s more than the once. How many times, Jason?”

He cocked his head to the opposite side as he counted. He even counted the times the others hadn’t known about; that Slade hadn’t heard of even after they consummated their bond.

“It can’t possibly hurt for me to know, Jason,” Slade said.

“Do you wish me to count the night last Halloween when you ran me through with your sword?”

There would be no physical tell as to whether or not his words had struck the man’s heart, but it didn’t matter. Jason peered down at the red ribbon on his left arm. It was no longer on his left ring finger, but rather, wrapped about his wrist. Duty. Obligation. Love, too, but not with the same devotion they’d both felt for one another the night he’d begged Slade to kill him. He didn't need Slade to show off his own left hand to know that Jason's ribbon was still happily tied to the assassin's left hand. Jason wasn't nearly as fickle as Slade.

“Tell me what I want to know!”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Jason grinned.

Deathstroke took a step forward, it was probably meant to be threatening, but it just made Jason hard with desire. “Jason,” he said with a soft patience that reminded them both of better times. “Tell me.”

Jason sauntered closer and looked over his handsome soulmate. That shaggy white hair, the goatee to match, it did things to him still. The armor was always sexy. Black and orang provided a contrast that was nearly as violent as Slade himself. That was something else that drove Jason wild with need. Slade's ability to kill without remorse. To spill blood at will. 

“You think you’ve learned something?” Jason asked. “Do you think you know the secret?”

Slade gritted his teeth, an obvious show of impatience that he fully meant for Jason to see. The master of control wouldn’t have done something so human if he could at all help it. Unless of course it was meant to be seen that he was losing his patience. It would be the only warning Jason got before a full-fledged fight erupted between the two of them. Really, that wasn't something he didn't look forward to, but not yet. Not until they'd talked.

“Six,” Jason whispered as he shuddered. “Six including last Halloween.”

The man before him looked horrified. “How?”

“My love, my love, my fearless love, I will not say goodbye,” Jason sang again. He looked his soulmate directly in the eyes and said as meaningful as he could without melody; “Sea may rise. Sky may fall. My love will never die.” He looked his soulmate directly in the eyes and said as meaningful as he could without melody; 

Slade’s brows knitted, but Jason trusted his soulmate’s intelligence and reputation for piecing things together quickly. He twirled the crowbar again as he whistled the song and waited for his soulmate to make the conclusion and then come to a decision based on it.

“This is my fault,” Slade said, but there wasn’t any guilt. His soulmate was too practical for anything like a conscience. “Your soul is bound to mine.”

“My love will never die,” Jason sang in a whisper as his eyes found Slade’s.

“Soulmates die on each other all the time. That doesn’t mean they come back,” Slade growled.

“Hold your breath ‘til my return; your love will never die.”

“Stop it!” Slade hissed.

Jason pouted but he didn’t really mean it. He relished the irritation and panic he was inflicting upon his soulmate. He wanted to feel more. Needed to feel more. But Slade wasn’t giving in. He was giving so little, Jason would take whatever he could get.

“This isn’t natural,” Slade said firmly. “You’re unnatural.”

“No my love,” Jason shook his head as his mood rapidly shifted to rage. “We. We are unnatural. You don’t stay anymore dead than I do!”

He was pleased by the physical tell he knew Slade had not meant to give away. The high pitched screech had caught Deathstroke the Terminator off guard. Jason would savor having made the unblinking man blink. It was too precious to forget.

He laughed merrily.

“Stop it!” Slade shouted the words that time.

“What’s wrong, trying to understand what unholy bond we have that every death I return from leaves me more and more something else?”

“More like someone else,” Slade growled.

Jason gritted his teeth and bit back a hateful reply. “I am not him!”

“Could have fooled me.” Slade smiled sharply and all at once, Jason knew he’d lost the upper hand. “You laugh, you sing, you shout; all the while sounding like a raving lunatic. Joker might have claimed he was an agent of chaos, but the man could at least elucidate when necessary. You appear lost, love.”

 He took a several deep breaths as he tried to calm the rising tide of fury that was building up within him.

“Do you even understand what’s happened to you?” Slade asked, but there was no longer condescension in his tone. His question was in earnest. “Do you, Jason?”

For a moment, Jason saw only his soulmate. He dropped to his knees as the crowbar fell to the carpeted floor with barely a cladder. He felt an intense anguish douse the flames of his rage as he sobbed out in horror. “Why?”

In an instant, strong powerful arms were wrapped about Jason in an odd sort of embrace that managed to keep his arms pinned to his sides. Lips were pressed against his temple, alternating between whispers of assurance, promises of protection, and even tender kisses to seal each hollow vow that they both knew couldn’t be kept.

Jason cried heartily until slowly, his tears ran dry. He sat staring at the carpet with unfocused intent, content to remain pinned by his soulmate. He saw the red. The red that had been caused by his sixth death. He relaxed his body against Slade. He had no intention of fighting as he stared at the large stain. He felt something much harder than lips press to his temple. He wondered if his seventh death would leave as large of a stain.

It would certainly leave more of a splatter.

“I have to try, Jason,” Slade said.

Jason’s eyes moved to his own wrist and he was relieved to see the ribbon had moved back to his scarred left ring finger. Joker had nearly taken it clean off when Jason had brought his hands up to block the crowbar. 

“For you, for your memory, I have to try just once more. Then never again,” Slade muttered, though Jason doubted the words were meant for anyone but the man who'd spoken them.

Jason Todd smiled at the ribbon and it’s return to where it belonged.

“Sea may rise. Sky may fall,” Jason sang before the gun fired. 

My love will never die.

[fyreb1rd]

Call Me a Traitor, but I Chose to Run. 

Part One: The Team

They'd call him a traitor anyway. He needed to keep his friends safe. Tommy has to make a tough call, but he knows its right at the end of the day. As long as he gets to see his friends bloody faces actually smile for once.

Characters: Tubbo, Tommy, Technoblade, and Niki.

TW: Mentions of near death experiences, burn wounds, medical talk, and talk of running away.

*** 

Tommy couldn't even count the things that had happened to him on his fingers. Tubbo had shown him the discs, the button was gone, Wilbur was going mad, Techno had betrayed them, Schlatt knew everything, no one had helped them, and Niki had gotten caught up in the mess. It had been days since he had watched Tubbo's execution. Days since the echo of the fireworks faded. Days since he fought Technoblade in that pit, the fire of pure anger fueling his moves. He had stood on the roof with Wilbur only hours ago, feeling a rush of anger as Schlatt found the fine print. And now there were traitors among them. Traitors among the most powerful group on the server as of right now.

He leaned back against the stone wall in Pogtopia's ravine in an area he had cleared the buttons from. He let his mind wander, back to a day where he felt perfectly at ease even with the swirling tornado of emotions in his heart.

***

So what was I supposed to do? He thought, leaning against the jukebox and feeling the vibrations of the music. Tubbo sat behind him, up against a tree with Niki, who worked at mending his burns and cuts from the fireworks. Tommy wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, curling his pained knuckles against the grass.

"We gotta stick together. I know we already agreed on that but now we have to." Tommy says, glancing behind him at the other two. They both look at him confused but don't say anything, so he continues, "we can't trust Wilbur or Technoblade. That was shown today. So we need to get away, as quickly as we can."

"I agree with you, but what about Tubbo's wounds, Tommy?" Niki cuts the end of a wrap of bandages and tenderly tucks it into the rest around Tubbo's chest. Tommy tries to ignore the blood that already starts to soak it despite his stitches, "It's evident he's in no state to be running off now. He's going to need weeks time to recover!"

"Can I ride horseback with these injuries, Niki? I have a horse we can use..." Tubbo trails off, watching past Tommy at the ends of the sunset. He looks so tired, Tommy feels a weight settle in his chest as he looks away from the sight of his best friend wounded and dazed.

Tommy restarts the disc and rises towards the sunrise, feeling it heat his skin as it draws him in like a siren's call for a few seconds, then he sighs, turning to face his friends, "I can use the tunnels to find your horse and whatever supplies you have in your bunker... then we can bring it all to Pogtopia and tell Wilbur we're keeping it here for safekeeping. Then, once Tubbo is healed enough, we put him on the horse and get the fuck out of here."

"That's not a bad plan... most of Tubbo's burns are on his upper body... it'll only take me a few days to patch up your guy's clothing... I'd say the earliest we can be out of here would be by the weekend? That's pushing it though... and it'll come down to how quickly Tubbo can heal up." Niki suggests, moving to patch part of Tubbo's face. He grins softly.

"If everything works out, that's the plan," Tommy says, running a hand through his hair. Niki rubs some medicine on Tubbo's wound that makes him flinch but he doesn't say anything at first.

"Let's just stay together, no matter what. We know we can trust each other, we know people are going to break out in fights here soon. I just... don't have any energy to be angry anymore. I wanna leave." Tubbo closes his eyes as Niki continues to clean up his wound. Tommy can see a shift in her face, he knows it hurts her heart to see Tubbo this way. His usual bounce and sparkle are gone, leaving a shell of what once was. Tommy looks away, towards where the colors of the sky are going from a stunning orangey gold to a darkened black and starts to hum along to the end of Mellohi.

***

It was around 7 pm when Tommy took to the tunnels. Kneeling on the wooden path, he managed to easily carve out the rocks they had used the hide Tubbo's tunnels. Getting up, he dusted off his busted up jeans and grabbed the empty bags in his hand. Checking to make sure his diamond sword was still strapped to his hip, he started to rush down the endless halls as quickly as he could. This was riskier now that the tunnels were known areas, so he had to be sharp. It should be easy, he tells himself, it should be in and out.

"Tommy!" Oh god fucking damn it. He turns, readying a sword. But the man in front of him doesn't raise one of his own. He doesn't seem hostile, he seems frightened.

"Vice President Quackity?" Tommy questions. The decorums feel odd to say, but he'd rather not get in a sword fight right now.

"Tommy I— I quit!" Quackity chuckles, almost sounding like Wilbur for a second before he breathes in and his speech steadies, "Tommy. I want to assist Pogtopia. I'm so fucking sick of Schlatt, I can't believe he just— ugh!"

Tommy is truly astonished to see the other so unkempt. Sighing, Tommy lowers his sword, adjusting the bags on his back. There isn't a good way to judge if Quackity is being honest to him nor does Tommy care to investigate it. He thinks he's going to be out of Pogtopia in the morning, it doesn't matter to him.

"Fine, Big Q, be my guest. Just help me get some supplies from Tubbo's old bunker." Tommy hands him a bag and Quackity nods, seemingly aghast at Tommy's immediate trust. But he doesn't question it as he follows Tommy to the bunker. It feels odd to walk here again, but Tommy knows he has to clear the bunker before Schlatt can. The books in there are sacred, who knows what a tyrannous leader (who wishes to terminate the past of his country) would do with them.

"Quackity. Go get all the supplies from the chests upstairs, grab the bed and dismantle it. Bring the horse into the tunnel." Tommy motions towards the area and Quackity nods promptly, before running off to go do as he was asked. Tommy murmurs and makes his way to where the books are kept, Tubbo had only shown him the room once, so he hoped he found the right room. He knocked down the wood under the stairs, keeping an ear open for Quackity and any other intruders.

"Here we are." He muttered, his eyes faded as he entered the room. He carelessly grabbed the books and rammed them (as neatly as he could, which wasn't very neat) in the bag. After that, he swung it over his shoulder and began to make his way out. I really should burn this place to the ground, his mind tells him. He pauses at the base of the stairs as he ponders the idea. No one would find it then, but they'd already taken everything out, so it didn't matter, right?

"Tommy, you ready to go?" Quackity questions, trying to steady the horse that wants nothing to do with him. Maybe he shouldn't commit mass arson in front of Quackity. He also shouldn't burn Tubbo's property without his written permission, in case Dream requires it. He can always have someone else burn it all down later.

"Yeah, and give me the horse." Tommy trudges up the stairs and seizes the reigns, gently rubbing the horse's head as it bumps against his shoulder. He leads the horse out to the tunnels, motioning for Quackity to stand behind him for a second while he patches up the wall using some planks. It's efficient at blocking off Tubbo's house, even though that probably won't stop Manburg. Grabbing the reins, Tommy begins to walk off, telling Quackity to follow him with a small nod. Quackity walks wordlessly on the other side of the horse, the bags weighing him down a bit. Tommy doesn't say anything, he doesn't want to, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to say.

After a bit of walking they turn a corner that Tommy had to dig out to get to the paths, he and Quackity go through first before the horse does, so they don't get kicked if something goes wrong. Tommy realizes Quackity hasn't seen this part of the tunnels yet, and he smiles a bit to himself, "Hey, can you close up that hole? We're trying to keep Schlatt from finding Pogtopia."

"Yeah! Yeah yeah, I got it." Quackity turns back, kneeling down and starting to shift some of the rocks back into place. Tommy takes the bags he's set down and ties them on either side of the horse's saddle as a makeshift holder, turning back to look at Quackity he notices the other is still donned in his Manburg attire. It makes Tommy feel uncomfortable for a moment, but he shakes it off.

Quackity finishes quicker than Tommy thought he would, and the two finish up the trip to the minute ravine where Pogtopia hid. Niki darted her head out from behind a rock and prepared an arrow at the (former?) Manburg Vice President, Tommy quickly waves her off, not wanting trouble.

"Where's Wilbur? Quackity wants to join." He asks, approaching Niki. Quackity follows like a lost puppy, shuffling his feet somewhat as he looks down.

"By the farm, I think." She keeps her crossbow loaded but doesn't fire. Tommy nods at Niki, who takes the horse's reigns before heading off into a side room she'd made for Tubbo the day after the festival. Tommy guides Quackity towards the stone door to the farm and slowly steps on the pressure plate. The door slides open with a loud thud and Wilbur glances over from where he's standing with Techno.

"Wilbur," Tommy's voice is even, "Quackity wants to join."

Wilbur nods and beckons Quackity in. Before Wilbur can say anything to Tommy, he turns, immediately leaving the area and going to the side room with Niki and Tubbo. The two had clearly been mid-conversation as Niki was laughing as she began to divvy up the supplies in the bags into their chests.

"So when are we ready to leave?" Tommy whispered, lying next to Tubbo on his bed. Tubbo smiled down at him, his bandages had just been removed to allow the burns to breathe a bit. The skin there is red, slightly yellow, rough-looking, and bubbly. It still makes Tommy sick to his stomach, but Tubbo's wide smile makes Tommy think the boy doesn't even mind the wounds.

"Actually, Tommy, we need to push this back..." Niki says softly, inspecting some of Tubbo's burns, "He's not healing fast enough to leave this week, I'm not even sure if he'll be ready by next week."

"How long do burns take to heal, Niki?" Tommy asks, keeping his voice level. He can't show Tubbo he's a bit upset that they can't leave because then Tubbo will blame himself. Even though Tommy often messes with Tubbo, he doesn't want to genuinely see him upset.

"It could take a few more weeks... but with his level of burns and how many potions he's going to need to take... we have to be careful, we can't overdose him." Niki hums, "I can make about five potions as of right now, but we can only give him one every six hours."

"You have the ingredients?" Tubbo asks, "but you've barely left my side.."

Niki giggles softly, walking over to the crafting table and opening the screen, beginning to put in some cobblestone down, "That you've seen. Techno gave me some nether wart and glistening melon last night, I fixed up his ax in exchange for the ingredients."

"What about the bottles and blaze powder?" Tommy asks, leaning on his side and watching as Niki begins to craft... something.

"Tommy, I need you to go in the nether and get some blaze powder, if you can." Niki motions to a chest, "I have your supplies and some glass bottles in there if you could please try? You can bring someone with you, I don't mind, I just need the blaze powder for Tubbo."

"The Nether is free-range right?" Tommy asks, opening one of the chests in the room and rustling through it before lifting a thick jacket Niki had fixed up for him. It's an old, beat up, navy blue jacket from L'Manburg. Niki had made it for him originally, it still fit like a glove years later. Niki nodded in response to his question as she set down a brewing stand.

"Thanks, Niki." Tommy grinned and Tubbo stirred in the blanket as he shivered. Niki looked back and smiled softly, but didn't say anything as she grabbed a log and tossed it into the fire nearby them. The ravine was always cold, it just seemed to get colder and colder as the days went on. Tommy was warm enough in his long sleeve shirt and jeans, so he gently draped the jacket across Tubbo's shoulders. Tubbo murmurs a soft thanks and curls up in it.

Niki sits on the bed and sighs, leaning back before looking over at Tommy, "Techno made mashed potatoes for dinner, unsurprisingly, I have some mutton to go with it if you want. Eat up before you leave." Niki handed the two teens bowls chock full of food and took her own. She pretended not to notice how hers had less than the others. Tommy noticed but didn't say anything.

"He always makes the same things," Tubbo grumbled, lightly taking a spoonful into his mouth. Tommy agreed.

"I probably won't eat all this, maybe you two can split what I don't eat," Tommy stated, pushing around the mush until he decided it was decent enough to actually eat. The three sat on the bed in silence, eating the limited food they'd have for the night. Niki finished her dish first, then Tommy handed her his leftovers after a short back and forth. Tommy laid back on the bed again, directly next to Tubbo to try and keep him warm. Niki sat a bit closer as a breeze ran through the cave.

A while later, there was a delicate tap on the stone of the room, three equal taps almost like a knock. Tommy and Niki both stood, out of instinct to run or fight whoever was there. Tubbo slowed his eating, but when he recognized who it was, he continued.

"Blade?" Tommy walked over to be beside Niki, who gently sat on the bed again.

"Here." He held out a big bag to Tommy, who took it and promptly set it on the floor to open it. Techno took a few steps back, resting his hand on the doorway as Tommy pulled out supplies.

"Blade..? Why did you give us this stuff?" Niki asked, looking down at food, coal, ores, some armor, and tools.

"I... I feel like it's right to help you leave. Since everything that happened at the Festival. I have emotions, I know, a rare sight." Techno looks away with a laugh, even as his lips frown. After a moment, he drags down the pig mask from his face to look Tommy properly in the eyes. It's odd to see the scars that he hides, across his nose and his eye, Tommy tries to not flinch at the sight, "be safe you three, alright? Wilbur doesn't know you're leaving yet, try and keep it that way. I'll cover for you until you're gone."

"We will be. Don't worry, and thank you so much Technoblade." Niki grins, and Techno nods goodbye and leaves silently as he slides his mask back up. The three look at each other in bewilderment but take the supplies without question. Niki gets up, taking the bag to distribute the supplies into chests again. Tubbo finishes his food and hands his empty bowl to Tommy.

"I'll go wash them out really quick, then suit up." Tommy stands and leaves the room. Walking down the ravine he finds a small waterfall he uses to wash off the remnants of the meal. He also cups a bit to drink in his hands, before filling a bowl up to bring back to the room for Tubbo, and a bowl for Niki. As he walks back, some torches near where Wilbur sleeps go out. Techno's stay on, however. Tommy doesn't bat an eye to it as he slips into the side room again. He hands the bowl to Tubbo, who quickly gulps the majority of it down. Niki drinks about half before setting hers aside. Checking a clock on the wall Tommy noticed it was around ten at night. It made sense for Wilbur to be going to sleep at this time. He turned, looking to his side at Tubbo, who was already starting to nod off.

"I'll go through the rest of the supplies and ration it out equally." Niki says softly, "have fun fighting blazes Tommy,"

"I won't." Tommy teases, kneeling down to grab his armor and slip it on. It's mostly iron armor with a diamond chestplate. It's not enchanted, as Tommy doesn't like reading all those books and such to get the knowledge to enchant. He just wants to run in and bash things, armor helps him not die immediately.

"Be careful Tommy," Tubbo says from his bed, peaking over the edge of his blanket like a toddler. His eyes are nearly closed and his voice is distant, he'd nearly asleep.

"I'll be careful, I promise." Tommy nods to him.

[oreolesbian]

the rescue

The silence was piercing. 

It wasn’t the first time they had been in a desperate situation, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but Din had felt the sheer strength of the dark trooper nearly piercing through his helmet. He had suffered under the power of only one, let alone an armada. 

Gideon, as pompous and arrogant as he was, was almost right to laugh. To triumph over their failed attempt to overtake him. 

They had the darksaber, the beskar staff—they at least had a chance. 

Din glanced over at Fennec, usually a beacon of confidence, and watched her hands white-knuckling her blaster. 

Mandalorians are good at killing. That’s what everyone said. Piled on top of all the other myths and stories about his people. Yet they were struggling to bring themselves back, to restore order to their cursed planet. 

The darksaber, still in his hand from where Bo refused to take it, grew heavier. 

The doors were banging in harder, and harder, and harder, until—

“Incoming craft, identify yourself.” Bo was leaning over the comms channel, staring intently at the grainy footage of an X-wing coming their way. 

Din frowned over his own terminal, seeing the same footage. The New Republic had no reason to know they were here. 

Grogu cooed from his position on the floor. 

It wasn’t until Fennec commented that he even noticed the banging had halted. 

Gideon looked frozen to the floor in a mix of awe and terror. Assume I know everything. But did he know this? This...shadow coursing through the halls? This—

“A Jedi?” Bo breathed, drawing everyone’s attention.

Indeed, it was. If the bathing green light of the lightsaber was any indication. 

The stranger swept through the droids without a moment’s hesitation, a vengeful angel cloaked with an unfathomable amount of power. Din had seen the things Grogu had done: the healing, the levitating, the trances. All of it was powerful and beyond his understanding, but this. 

He had never felt more entranced. He had seen the other Jedi, Ahsoka, move, but only from a distance. One could only assume, like the stories spread about the Mandalorians, that the ones of the Jedi were elaborated as well. After all, they had been wiped out. Surely beings of such immense capability, of such terror-inducing godly abilities, could not be killed. 

This one definitely couldn’t. His blade swept easily through the monstrous machines, his hood neatly over his head as he twisted the blade and crushed the metal innards with nothing but his mind. Sparks of blaster fire swiveled around the hallways, blurring the footage, but it mattered not. 

It was as if the galaxy was put on stand still, holding its breath as the Jedi grew closer and closer, enough time to allow Gideon, in his true showing of character and pure panic, to roll and fire at Bo. 

She dropped the ground with a pained grunt, her armor blocking the fire, but leaving Grogu exposed. 

Din wasted no time. He dove in the line of fire, taking in more hits to his armor before the others could take Gideon out. 

He turned to check on the kid, only to find him on top of the terminal, leaning over the screen with a small, three-fingered claw leaning longingly over the figure of the Jedi. The two of them stared at each other.

They had been through so much. But Din knew this was his goal. To get the child to his people. To keep him safe. And he was no fool. He saw what lingered in those big black eyes, so innocent yet so wise. 

Longing.

He turned to Fennec. “Open the doors.”

She whirled on him, eyes wild. It was obviously everybody’s first time seeing a Jedi in their full glory. No matter his good intentions, they were all scared. 

“I said, open the doors.”

She tightened her hold on her blaster, sharing a look with Cara while still trained on the blast doors. “Are you crazy?”

She made no move towards the buttons. Huffing, Din did it himself, allowing himself a hardening breath before allowing the Jedi a path straight to them, the eerie green glow easing into the bridge amongst the smoke and debris of the decimated dark troopers. 

The lightsaber deactivated with a steady hiss before being clipped back onto its home on the man’s belt. With gentle movements, the hands—one gloved, one not—tossed back the hood, revealing a face much younger than they had expected. 

His hair was a darkened blonde, a mop over his blue eyes, and his face was passive, as if he hadn’t just spent the last five minutes effortlessly cutting down into the dark troopers. 

“Are you a Jedi?” Din asked, holding his head high despite his trepidation. 

Then, the unexpected happened. The man smiled. 

“I am.” His voice was soft. He held out his hand. The others shifted their blasters in preparation, drawing a chuckle. “At ease. I come as a friend. My name is Luke Skywalker.” He nodded towards Grogu. “He called for me.”

“The kid called for you?” Kaska echoed in disbelief. 

“Through the Force,” Din said, watching Luke’s smile grow wider. 

Cara spoke next, her voice almost hoarse in her shock and her blaster dipped low. “Wait, the Skywalker? The one that killed the Emperor?”

Luke’s head dipped. “That is a story that’s been told, yes.” Din noted a brief hesitation on his face before looking back at Grogu, who was peeking curiously around a chair. 

Luke caught sight of him and softened, dropping to his knees and extending a hand out. “Hello, little one. It’s nice to meet you.”

Din felt a surge of protection, stepping closer to the kid and ready to fight the Jedi, no matter how powerful he was. He continued to be caught off guard as Luke continued smiling at him. 

“You’ve become close to him. He spoke fondly of you.”

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” Din croaked, knowing it was a lie the minute he said it. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to protect the kid, to bring him to his people. Luke was his people. But after losing him, he couldn’t help but want to hold on a little bit longer, to maybe hold out and believe that he could keep the kid around. 

He watched Luke nod slowly, his eyes impossibly understanding. “And he does not have to if he chooses. I only came to offer my aid. I will respect his decision and yours, whatever it may be.”

Then he rose back to a stand, curling his hands at his waist. Grogu continued to coo, catching both of their attentions. Luke continued to smile, but there was something more behind it, a sadness, a memory of some kind that the kid was pulling up. 

Din couldn’t get over the Jedi’s age, how a face that young surely couldn’t have been around for the purges like Ahsoka had been. And yet, if his abilities hadn’t shown enough, he had gone through much more just to be here in this moment. Which was how it clicked.

Luke needed Grogu as much as Grogu needed him. 

If the Jedi were to truly return to the galaxy, they needed to be around each other, to share their knowledge amongst one another, to feel safe. 

He sighed. 

Luke cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed curiously. “I believe he wants your permission to go.”

“My permission?” Din stared at Grogu incredulously. 

“Like I said, he cares about you.” Luke stepped forward, offering a sympathetic look. “I know you have no reason to trust a stranger, but I swear to protect him with my life. He is strong in the Force, but talent is nothing without training. He can stay here with you, but if you truly want him to be safe, he needs to master his abilities. I can help him with that.”

Din glanced between the two Force-users, overwhelmed. He knew, more than anything, about sticking with your own kind. Being a Mandalorian was everything to him, his blood. Being without his own, to see so many imposters, to see the sacrilege on the very name of his people by others who would never even come close to understanding… 

He lifted Grogu into his arms, stroking one of the big ears. “You...have my permission, Grogu. You belong with him. He’s one of your kind.” He swallowed. “I’ll see you again. I promise.”

He looked to Luke to confirm his promise, feeling the weight lift from his shoulders as Luke nodded warmly. 

The clawed hand was suddenly back, and pawing at his helmet. Din’s throat felt tight, and he couldn’t stop the sudden warmth behind his eyes. Just as he moved to lower Grogu down, he noticed Luke turning his head, his eyes lowered. Unbeknownst to him, Luke had first-hand experience with the gripping private moment that included revealing a long-hidden face, for he had been one of the only ones to truly know Vader’s face, to hold him as he lay dying. A final goodbye. 

Grogu pulled at his helmet once more. 

Din gave a shaky smile before allowing himself to snap the armor back, just enough to where they could see each other. Just them—Grogu and Din. No one else in the galaxy mattered.

Then the tiny hand was at his face, brushing along the weeks-old stubble with a bubbling curiosity. Din chuckled. “Alright, buddy. It’s time to go.”

Another gurgle. 

He snapped his helmet back into place before lowering Grogu to the ground, his arms still looped around his boots. Luke turned back with another polite smile, before startling as a figure bumped into his legs from behind him, whistling excitedly.

Luke laughed. “Grogu, this is Artoo. He’ll be coming with us too, if that’s alright.”

Din almost laughed with him when Grogu spun around, entranced by the lights on the astromech droid. He cooed as he waddled over to him, further and further away from Din. 

Luke kneeled once more, allowing Grogu time before lifting him up into his arms in a gentle cradle. 

Then, the blue eyes were back on Din, serious and determined, yet kind. “Thank you for trusting me, Din. Please, if you need anything, I’ll be there.” He turned to the entire group, humbled by their awe-stricken looks. “May the Force be with all of you.”

And then, as quick as he had arrived, he was gone, leaving Din to stare and ponder how the mysterious man had known his name.

[youngprofesser]

Oneshot.

Theme: Sacrifice

There's a drop of easily 500 meters behind him, a furious mob with rifles with solid bullets rapidly approaching in front of him, and his twelve year old Padawan at his side. 

Three options, but he can't take them hand to hand without risk to his padawan and he can't send her down alone. 

So Mace takes the only option left. He grabs his tiny, terrified padawan by the shoulder and pulls her close. He sees a flash of the whites of her eyes as he locks an arm around her chest under her arms, backs to the edge of the plummet, and jumps. 

He feels Depa's gasp from where she's pressed against his chest, hears the enraged shouts of their pursuers, but he blocks them all out, focusing on controlling his fall. Depa can't land from this height by herself, there's nowhere for him to grab to slow or stop those descent. He's going to need to focus all of his energy on slowing them down enough that they can land safely. He can do that, as long as they fall straight-

A rifle fires. Depa shrieks. Mace twists on instinct and feels the heat of the bullet sear his skin as it passes. 

Change of plan. 

"Hold tight." He mutters to his padawan, furiously running estimations in his head as she twists in his grip, grabbing at his shoulders and pressing the front of her body as close to him as she can. 

In the force he feels the shooter take aim, the whine of the rifle charging, the ice cold-intent to kill that speeds towards them and curls his body around Depa, tucking his knees to her back and changing their trajectory enough that the bolt misses them with margin.

He sinks deeper in the force, the wind whistling in his ears fading away until all he can hear are Depa's trembling gasps and the sound of his own heartbeat. He can do this. 

The ground is coming into view dangerously quickly, it's been long enough that they've reached terminal velocity. But that doesn't matter right now because the shooter is taking aim again. 

Mace straightens his body out, fighting the resistance of the wind. He can't hold it for long, his hips are slowly being pushed past the limit of the joint. He doesn't have to hold it long though, just until… 

The rifle whines and he tucks in again, throwing his weight into his right shoulder so he's facing skywards. The bullet passes by centimeters. 

Depa is trembling in his arms. Even if he lets her go, force pushes her up to negate some of the momentum, it's not likely she'll survive. They're too low now for the sniper so see them, but he can feel the ground rushing up to meet his back and knows he's running out of time.

Mace closes his eyes and imagines a net. He feels the golden strands of the force in his fingers, weaves them together and solidifies them with his resolve. It doesn't need to catch them completely, just slow them enough. 

He hits the invisible net he's made and feels the strain of their weight and momentum in his bones but they're still falling.  

With all of his strength he tightens the strands, forces them to pull closer together despite every law of physics pulling them apart. His chest burns with the strain of holding it and he realizes that the ground is still growing closer too quickly.

Four.

This isn't working.

Three.

We're still going too fast. 

Two. 

Just make sure she survives. 

One.

Mace lets go of his padawan, turns his palms down, and pushes with as much power as he has. The effort wrenches a scream from his throat, but it's enough that it sends his body catapulting back up, slamming into Depa and carrying her with him. The change in direction doesn't last long, but it's enough. 

For a blissful second they're weightless and it's silent. Mace feels fully at peace as he grabs his padawan again, wraps both arms around her as they begin to fall. This time as he feels the unforgiving surface approaching, prickling along his back, he doesn't resist. His body will cushion the impact. 

She'll survive. 

Zero.

[elmex309]

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[maddiethebull]

Lucifer (Obey Me!) - Prompt #14 - “Please, don’t be scared.”

Lucifer’s ears perked up to the sound of clattering dishes, he turned around to see you. You were shivering, eyes wide open, and daring not to move, you were terrified. His eyes open wide as he realizes what you just saw him do. You just watched as he mercilessly punished a demon for treason against Diavlo, he terminated the demon. You knew it was a thing that happened, but you never expected it to look like that. You saw as each molecule was decimated, it was a horrifying sight. He frantically reached out for you, 

“MC, what are you doing here? I-”

You stayed as you were, rigid as ice. Time moved in slow motion. You saw his lips move but the pounding of your heart and the voice of the now gone demon pleading for his life was all you could hear. You dropped the tray you were holding only by one hand. Stepping over the broken ceramic cups askew on the floor, you ran away. You were only supposed to be helping Lucifer and Diavlo arrange for the school dance coming up, but you were told to take a break. You made tea for Lucifer, thinking to surprise him, why did you have to make that tea? Why did you have to come along today? Why did this have to happen? As you grasped for ways to make sense of the situation, you felt the tears streaming down your face, you could taste the salt as they fell upon your lips. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t stop running. You didn’t even know where you were going but you had to get away from there. 

Lucifer stood still, frozen in the horrific realization. He looked at his hands as he thought of the look on your face. You were so pale, you trembled at his gaze, you were so terrified of him.  

You ran all the way to the House of Lamentation, you were panting and gasping for air as you trailed up the pathway to the building and then it all went blank, you fell to the ground, unconscious. It was only moments later that Satan had gone out to get some groceries since he was on cooking duty that day and when he opened the door to see you lying there, motionless, he dropped everything he was holding and carefully picked you up. He cradled your head in the crook of his elbow. His heart was beating a million miles an hour, he had no idea what happened but when he saw that you were breathing, his nerves were slightly calmed. He laid you down on the chaise lounge in his bedroom and tended to you, making sure you didn’t stop breathing and so he would be there when you woke up. 

When you finally did come to, you were completely dazed as Satan rushed to your side with a glass of water. 

“MC, what the hell happened? Are you okay??? ”

You groggily looked up at him, took the water from his hand and started chugging it. You hadn’t realized how thirsty all of that running made you. ‘Running?... Running. Fuck.’ you remembered how you got to this present moment and told Satan all about it.  After hearing everything, he was immediately torn up with rage. How could Lucifer be so stupid? How did he not fucking notice you?? He stomped around the room, he turned to look at you, you laid there silent. Seeing the full capacity of what a demon can do, he realized that he began to scare you too. He saw the way you were looking at him and  threw his head down in shame, 

An exhausted sigh came from his lips, “What matters is that you’re okay… I didn’t mean to get worked up.” He walked over to you, he gently laid his head on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that, MC.” He nuzzled his head into you, “I’m so sorry.”

He slowly breathed, taking in your scent. He felt so conflicted. Satan cared for you a great deal, more than he let on, and more than he wanted to. Everything about you captivated him. Pain writhed in his chest, he knew that you two would never be, but he would never leave you in your times of anguish, he loved you too much to do that. He would stay silent about his feelings, knowing that your heart had already been given to Lucifer. 

The thoughts he had been rummaging through were interrupted by Levi shouting from the kitchen.

“Hey, dinner’s ready, normies!”

Satan looked to you. You looked more calm than before, but he still didn’t know if it was a good idea that you have dinner with all of the brothers that night. You breathed in and out deeply to calm yourself down. The information had sunk in, though you were still scared of him, you didn’t want to remove more building blocks from the jenga tower that was your friendship/feelings for Lucifer. 

You put your hand on Satan’s shoulder, reassuringly saying, 

“I’ll be fine, I just need your help and I’ll be alright.” Hearing you say you needed him once again brought up his confusing feelings for you, but he pushed them to the back of his mind and stored them away in a steel safe. He told himself that your well-being was the only thing he cared about right now. Telling this half lie to himself worked enough, so he took your hand and led you to the dining room, asking once or twice in that short walk if you were really sure this was a good idea. 

At dinner you were hardly relaxed. You sat as far away from Lucifer as you could. Satan held your hand under the table; he leaned over and whispered to you, 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

‘No it’s not. How could things be okay?’ you thought. You were terrified of getting close to Lucifer and you hated it with all your being. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but a feeling rang out deep down that there was always the possibility of him doing so. How could you be so suspicious of someone you had fallen in love with so deeply? The memories of him flashed through your mind, the first thing you thought about was when you came down with a bad cold and Lucifer stayed at your side for nearly every second of it, nursing you and making sure you felt okay. Then you remembered when you got the chance to see him play for you on the piano, it was so beautiful it brought you to tears. You remembered how he wiped those tears from your face so softly with his thumb. That memory was embedded into your mind like a movie scene, you weren’t sure if it was your imagination that added the sunset glinting in his eyes, but that was still to be the image in your head every time you recalled that night. You ate quickly, not releasing your gaze from the plate of food in front of you. 

Beel, through a mouthful of food, asked, “hey can you pass me the salt?”

Lucifer’s hand reached out to the middle of the table and you jumped in your chair. You had flinched so hard that everyone noticed and now everyone but Lucifer and Satan stared at you in confusion. Lucifer quickly retracted his hand and struggled to keep a calm face as the feelings of sadness rushed in like a flood. Looking around, slightly panicked and not knowing what to say, you simply got up. But you couldn’t leave without an explanation, that would have alerted the other brothers to the fact that there was an issue so you said,

“I-I’m not feeling that good today, so I think I’ll just stay in my room for the night. Excuse me.”

You couldn’t see as you turned to go to leave, but Lucifer was on the brink of tears, caused by anger at himself and sorrow for you. He’d spent so much time building a relationship with you. He remembered the first time you went into his office, he remembered how you looked so curious to know him. You would talk about the paintings on his walls, you would clumsily play the grand piano that sat in the corner, you would… you would bring him tea every now and then. Thinking that he could never have more of those little moments of joy, those moments that reminded him what heaven was like, it tore him to shreds. With his head in his hands, he gripped hard on his hair and grimaced at the thought of his carelessness earlier that day. 

The room’s atmosphere was thick and downcast. Satan slammed his hands on the table and rushed after you, not soon after, Lucifer left as well. In the hallway leading to your room, a fierce grip on Satan’s wrist stopped him in his tracks. 

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Anger had briefly overtaken the sadness Lucifer felt. 

Satan scoffed, and with a dangerous growl in his voice, said, “I’m going to help MC.” 

The tension between them was almost tangible. The blazing anger in their eyes could set a house on fire. Satan angrily yanked his arm back to his side. 

Lucifer with an unrelenting anger in his gaze said, “I suggest you stay out of this matter before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

A sadistic laugh fell off of Satan’s lips, “regret, huh? Do you even feel regret? Do you feel regret for what you did to MC? Do you fucking know how idiotic it was of you to just terminate a demon in the same building as her? Are you that fucking stupid, Lucifer?”

The anger in Lucifer’s eyes dripped into despair as Satan sighed at the lack of an answer and made his way to your room, knocking gently and being let in. Lucifer’s heart broke at the sight of it. That was when the second most powerful demon in Devildom fell to his knees and began to weep for a mere human being. If he didn’t have you, then what was his pride worth? Getting close to you was the action he had the most pride for. He saw in black and white until you rushed in and gave him a technicolor kaleidoscope to see the world through and it had fallen through his fingers like sand. The only sound in that desolate feeling hallway was him muttering through his tears, 

“Please, don't be scared. Don’t be scared of me.”

A couple days had passed and the entire time Lucifer had been holed up in his room. He couldn’t bear to face you. He could barely take the waves of regret crashing into him at every turn. 

On the fourth day, you slipped a note under his door, by Satan’s suggestion, in hopes that it would get him to emerge. The note read, 

“Hey, I know that things are a little weird between us, but please don’t leave me like this. Let’s talk, okay?”

On the bottom of the note you put two boxes, one to check okay and one to check I don’t want to. You stayed by his bedroom door for hours, you even fell asleep. These past few days had really tired you out. All of the thoughts about termination and life and death and duties and decisions were carefully mulled over until, with help from all of the brothers, endless snacks provided by Beel, endless movie selections provided by Levi, light hearted antics with Mammon, some needed napping along with Belphie, kind words from Asmodeus, and constant support from Satan, you began to accept what you had seen and feel like you were once again at home. You weren’t fully okay yet, it would take some time, but you wanted to begin rebuilding what you had with Lucifer, because it was too precious to you or him to let fade away into nothing. Sleeping by his door, you dreamt of the time you and Lucifer danced together, the way he looked at you when he asked, “may I have this dance?” made you feel like a princess then and now. While you were whisked away onto clouds in your dreams, a small piece of paper popped out from under the door. On the bottom, a box was checked, a box that read, “okay.” 

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Hey ya’ll! I wanna ask for your feedback on my writing, i.e. do I use the word ‘thing’ too much or if I spend too much space on dialogue, general things like that. Nothing against anyone if you have criticisms, just be honest and let me know! :)

[ask-spider-man-61610]

"...Guuuhhh."

He slumped backwards, falling on his ass, only a few seconds after his last opponent had gone down. His heart was racing. His hands ached from the punches he'd thrown. His costume was soaked with sweat and, in some patches, torn and bloody. One especially determined trafficker had managed to get a knife through the bulletproof fabric, and the resulting gash ached and stung with every labored breath.

One of his eyes was swelling shut under the mask. Blearily, Spider-Man wondered how he'd get that contact lens out intact.

He tried to push himself to his feet, and only made it up on the second attempt. His good eye squeezed shut, Spider-Man took a cartridge of medical webbing off of his hip and used it to seal his scrapes and his stab wound shut, even as he limped over to the hostages in the capsized train car. If he hadn't been so tired and sore he could've pulled the door off singlehandedly, but now he stuck both hands to the metal door and strained for a few seconds before the metal managed to tear away. "Anyone injured?" he called in, too sore to really tell by vibrations alone. "If you're bleeding I can patch it up."

After a few seconds of silence, a shaky hand tried to reach out. Without looking Spider-Man could sense its three fingers and thumb, the odd scaling of its skin, the danger of each sharp claw. Nevertheless he reached in and grabbed the arm by the wrist, pulling its owner out of the wreck as quickly as he dared.

"Thank you," the mutant whispered as Spider-Man started webbing their wounds closed. "I--I didn't know what I was gonna do."

"Die, probably." Spider-Man helped them lean against the train and began to help the next one out.

"Y-you knocked over a train." The fourth or fifth mutant said, wide-eyed, as he pulled them out. "...I didn't know you were that strong."

"I'm not. A little bit of prep time and you can do anything." He checked for more hostages, then looked away, his hand on his injured leg and his brow furrowed beneath the mask. "...I'm forgetting something," he muttered to himself. "What am I forgetting?"

"Should...we go to the police?"

"Hm? God, no," replied Spider-Man, looking back at the rescued mutants. “At best you’d end up right back where you were. More likely you’d just get killed and I’d get framed. Again.”

He gave them instructions on how to keep their heads down until Xavier could get to them, then pointed out the way out of the subway tunnels. As they began to hurry off Spider-Man leaned against the wrecked train and groaned in pain, holding himself up by spite alone. There was no time to sit around feeling sorry for himself. Retriving his backpack from its hiding place, he set to work scouring the train for every scrap of information he could find.

He still didn’t know where exactly the traffickers had been taking mutants, or what for. He didn’t know how long this operation had been underway. He didn’t know how deep it went--it had connections to the Life Foundation in LA, and the police, but was it connected to the CCA? To Albany? Washington?

There was so much he didn’t know. And he was still forgetting something.

Eventually Spider-Man concluded that he’d gathered all the info he could from the train. Optimistically, it would take his laptop a few hours to decrypt the data he’d ripped from the traffickers’ tech, but between this little crash and the damage he’d done to their loading station their operation was over for the foreseeable future. This wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been. For all he knew there were hundreds of mutants still in captivity, being dissected, being brainwashed, dead. But it’d be hours before he could go any further in his investigation, and as long as there were no more mutants being taken in that time, he thought he could be okay with that.

The way home was slow and cumbersome with his body as drained as it was. He walked across rooftops, hopped over streets with small grunts of pain, and made more use of his web-shooters than usual, firing weblines and just letting himself swing rather than put his body through any more effort. He swung through Times Square like this, tucking his knees to his chest as he gave the line a tug, gaining a bit of altitude to hide within the holographic ads. The entrance to the Interspace Terminal passed by beneath him, and as he passed by an LCD screen it switched to his own Wanted poster. He ignored it with a grumble.

Going home in costume wasn’t safe anymore; too many cameras and drones milled through the streets, always searching for unregistered superheroes. So Spider-Man slipped into an alley a few blocks away from his apartment and perched behind a dumpster for a few minutes, waiting. The constant buzzing in his head rose and fell with the passing of pedestrians on the sidewalk, with the flight of drones above, each movement sending pulses of vibration through the ground or the air and each camera or potential weapon sending a small chill through his spine. But eventually it settled slightly, a gap in the traffic, and in that moment Peter Parker slipped out of the alley, his costume hidden beneath a jacket and sweatpants, his scarred and bruised face hidden by a hood.

There was danger in his apartment.

Not just the defenses that he’d hidden throughout his home after Kaos had resurfaced; there were dangerous people. His head snapped up towards the thirty-first floor as he stepped onto the block and froze, his good eye wide with horror. Emjay would be home already, was she safe? It took a long, long second for him to recognize those myriad threatening tingles as people he knew: people with powers, people like him, people he had worked with for years now. He didn’t really relax, but his panic subsided as he headed into his building and started up the stairs.

Was that what he had forgotten? he wondered on his way up. Was there a group mission he was supposed to help with? Or had he talked to them already about the mutant trafficking? It seemed unlikely; his responsibilities stuck in his brain. But that was no reason to rule it out. He accelerated, taking the stairs three at a time, moving as fast as he could without giving away his superhuman nature. As he reached the twenty-somethingth floor he felt quick, hasty movements from within his apartment--they’d definitely sensed him by now; what were they moving to do? He had his keys out as he reached his floor, and was just beginning to slide one into the lock when he felt Emjay’s footsteps and heart approach the door.

Peter lowered his keys as she cracked the door open, amber and freckles and deep brown eyes greeting his vision. Emjay’s attention focused first on his swollen eye, worry flashing across her face, but as his eyebrows jumped in embarrassed acknowledgement she swallowed her reflex. She’d seen him shrug off far, far worse, many times before. Still, the smile that she gave him was subdued, and a little melancholy.

He nodded towards the heartbeats and nagging danger of the Spiders just out of sight. “What’s the occasion?”

That got a better smile. Emjay snorted, her dimples showing, and glanced down for a moment. “I knew you’d forget,” she chuckled as she looked back up at him, and as Peter’s brow furrowed she allowed the door to open completely. “Happy birthday, Tiger.”

Members of the Cluster were either standing around the kitchen’s island counter or seated on the furniture surrounding the coffee table. A few boxes wrapped in paper were piled in both spots, their wrappings gaudy and bright and festive, and each Spider gave Peter either a wave or a verbal greeting. A few of them had beverages already. Poppy in particular had been halfway through a sip from a mug as he entered, and she hastily set it down as she waved. A little girl with heterochromia and fluffy hair dashed up to him and wrapped him in a tight hug, and as he returned it out of habit he watched Piper unveil an incredibly large cheesecake. Peter hated birthday cake. They must’ve been planning this for a few days at least.

A laugh rose up out of Peter’s chest. It started quiet and remained that way: he covered his mouth and looked away as he tried to control his own response. Nothing doing. His shoulders hiked up as an uncharacteristic grin spread across his face, and he closed his eyes and nodded at nothing as he continued to laugh. Thank god they weren’t singing, he reflected, still laughing at himself a little. Emjay must’ve told them he hated that too. He opened his good eye as his laughter managed to trail off, and caught sight of her own shoulders shaking with silent giggles.

“We can wait a little longer if you need us to,” she said, as the Spiders started back into whatever conversation had been interrupted by his arrival. “You know, take a few minutes in the bathroom and patch yourself up. The cheesecake’ll still be here when you’re--eek!”

Damn the injuries. Damn the long and difficult day fighting people. Damn the entire world outside their apartment door, and all the worlds outside that. Damn it all except the people in this room right now, remembering a little part of himself that he’d forgotten, giving him those few hours to indulge and be social and act like something besides the full-time vigilante that was Spider-Man. Peter’s arms wrapped around Emjay’s waist in silent thanks for putting this together, and her feet left the ground as he pulled her close.

Her lips tasted like strawberries and honey.

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Owl House/Fairy Tail Crossover First Episode Part 1

Hello All, today, I am transcribing the Owl House/Fairy Tail story I created over hear, for your reading pleasure!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!!

“Phew! Looks like I lost them!” With an exhausted sigh, Luz Noceda crashed to the ground. “Just once, I wish I could go into town without a disguise and NOT get chased by Rune Knights. Is that REALLY too much to ask?”

With a sigh, Luz hauled the satchel she carried across her shoulder off, riffling through the numerous papers and books stored within. ‘Sometimes, I wished that I was better at thinking things through… but then I remember how boring that is!’ She mused to herself, before laughing aloud in response.

“Still, that was a close call.” Stretching herself out, Luz slipped a picture out of her pocket, gazing fondly at the photo of her and her mother, laughing together. It was one of the few mementos Luz had managed to keep of that time. “I better prepare, never know who could show up.”

One campfire, properly covered to conceal any smoke or light it may give off, and give away her position, and one emergency shelter later, Luz laid into a hearty soup she managed to make. So what you will about her social skills, but Luz definitely knew how to survive off the land… with a little help from the odds and ends she “Found” in town today.

With her belly full, Luz decided it would be a good point to get ready for bed, at least after she got some reading done. “Challenges of Space-Time and the Continuum? Nah, already read that, dull as dirt. Masterworks of Weaponry: A Guide to Gear both Standard and Exotic, cool but more technical than I’m in the mood for…”

As Luz narrowed her choices, she eventually reached the SECOND big memento of her Mother among her things: The Good Witch Azura, a fantasy novel series that had been the guiding beacon to her life of adventure and intrigue up until now. A complicated look appeared on Luz’s face. Ordinarily, she’d stash this book away, content with her memories of happier times that it brought to the surface, but today, she felt like maybe she should give it a proper read. As the words danced across her vision, Luz sunk deeper and deeper into her memories, heedless of the tears pricking at her eyes. All she could see was the wonderful, maddening book that had given her so much joy and heartache. The last thing her Mother had given her before she set out on her journey. Before she could fully lose herself in her thoughts, Luz’s attention was grabbed by the sound of an Owl hooting. Specifically, an Owl hooting from just a few short feet away.

As Luz turned her head, she caught sight of the dumbfounding image of a tiny brown owl, something she would normally coo over in delight at the sight of, were said adorable owl not currently lifting into the air, her satchel of works stored within a burlap sack it was carrying. “TINY BAG THIEF!!”

With a roar of outrage, Luz launched herself after the owl, internally marveling at its ability to support all that weight with its little body, but more than anything furious at being robbed. Luz DESPISED the idea of being stolen from. With an accompanying burst of wind at her steps, Luz effortlessly dodged the trees and boulders the little owl weaved around in an effort to shake her. As Luz closed in, her hand just inches away from snatching the owl’s burden… she tumbled through the rather obvious door-shaped portal that had been floating in the air.

With a cough, Luz pulled herself to her feet, finding herself in a canvas tent, the familiar rumbling of a market just outside. Whatever resulted in her coming here, it didn’t seem malevolent… for now. As Luz looked around the interior, she noticed how odd so many of the items stored within were. “Wow, and I thought I’d seen some weird stuff.” Luz walks over to a shrunken head. “But this? This is impressive.”

“Okay Owlbert, let’s see what you’ve got for Mama today!”

“Who the what now?” Confused, and intrigued, Luz moved closer to the tent flap. As she looked out, she let out a soft gasp of awe. Before her was one of the most fascinating sights she had ever seen, beings of all forms and figures trading and haggling in an old-fashioned bazarre. The tent she found herself in seemed to connect to a stand, one staffed by a surprisingly foxy older woman, grey hair held tight behind a bandanna, wearing a stylishly torn red dress. “Okay, let’s see where this goes…”

As the woman pulled out multiple valuable objects, including an Archive Terminal that Luz legitimately cried at seeing tossed like trash, discarding each without a moment’s hesitation, only to settle on some novelty glasses as being the thing to “Make her rich.” Yeah, Luz wasn’t too sure about that. But when she pulled Luz’s precious satchel and held the treasures over a fire? Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

“NOPE!” With a lunge, Luz leapt into the air, grabbing her satchel and the book Eda had been holding over a flame, and smoothly landed on her feet, not five feet away. “Yeah, sorry lady, but this is mine.”

With that said, Luz took off running, ducking back into the tent and heading for the portal, only to come up short as it folded up into… was that a briefcase? “You’re not going anywhere.” Okay, so the probably crazy lady could do a decent threatening voice. Well then…

Luz lunged towards the woman, aiming a sharp right hook for her torso. The lady’s eyes widened, before she shifted to the side, avoiding what would’ve been a stinging blow by the skin of her teeth. Growling, Luz crouched to the ground and spun, hoping to sweep the woman’s feet out from under her, only for her to once again dodge, smoothly leaping over the attack, now sporting a teasing grin. “That the best ya got kid?”

“Not even close.” Luz snorted. Alright, no more Ms. Nice Girl. Deciding she needed to end this quickly, Luz brought her fist to her open palm, a bright light building at the point of connection. “ Light-Make:”

The woman’s eyes widened. “What the-!?”

“Surging Spear!!” With a fierce grin, Luz released her spell, laughing inside at the dumbfounded look on the woman’s face as a bevy of ornate spears, all crafted from solid light, drove themselves into her gut, launching her into the street.

With a huff, Luz followed after, squaring off from across the lady (who she really needed to learn the name of).

As she pulled herself to her feet, the woman groaned out. “How in the Titan’s name did you do that?”

Luz blinked. “Magic.”

“Yeah, I know that, duh! I meant how can YOU use magic at all?” The woman snorted, a look of fascination in her eyes.

“I learned how.” Luz grunted, an annoyed glare fixed upon her face. “Want me to show you what else I’ve learned?”

The woman grinned. “Absolutely.”

Teeth bared in an answering grin, Luz leapt forward. As she closed in on her opponent, she focused on the energy flowing within her, and shouted, “Water Dance: Percussive Rhythm!!”

In response to her spell, water blossomed around her, circling her wrists and ankles. As she finally entered melee range, she lashed out with a trio of kicks, blunt whips of water following each. The woman dodged the kicks, blocking the water strikes using her staff, before retaliating with an overhead blow. Spinning away from the blow, Luz used the momentum to throw a punch, grinning in satisfaction as it and the accompanying water strike connected, as well as the following grunt of pain.

The grey-haired lady snorted, twirled her hand and produced a glowing ring in response. Luz may not have been familiar with spells of whatever type she was about to use, but better safe than sorry. She jumped back, and just in time, as a slithering tube of stone burst from the ground, the leading part shaped into the face of an Owl. Backflipping away from the spell, countered with her own. “Clinging Flames!”

Her spell lashed out in the form of numerous small sparks, which, while not very powerful, had the ability to cling to something without being overtly damaging, weighing it down. As the spell of the woman met her own, the flames lived up to their name, clinging to the Owl Tube and pinning it to the ground. Capitalizing on the distraction, Luz rushed in, launching an overhead kick to the woman’s face, only to be blocked by her staff.

“You’ve got some moves!” The woman grinned, the fierce joy of a challenge burning in her gaze. “What’s your name anyway?”

Luz returned her grin. “Luz Noceda! You?”

The woman barked a laugh. “Ha! I’ll make sure to remember that. The name’s-”

“EDA THE OWL LADY!!”

With the sudden shout, the crowd that had been watching their brawl scattered, cowering in fright behind the stands and trees. Coming towards them were a menacing trio of masked thugs, local guards or law enforcement by Luz’s estimate. Still, at least she had a name.

The lead guard stomped forward with a growl. “You are wanted for Crimes against the Empire, Misuse of Magic, and Demonic Misdemeanors!”

The now-named Eda groaned. “Will you bozos just leave me alone all ready? I haven’t done anything!”

“And you!” The guard turned his finger to Luz, ignoring Eda. “Are coming too!”

“WHAT!?” Luz shouted. “What did I do!?”

The guard snorted dismissively. “Disturbing the peace and destruction of private property.” He gestured, bringing Luz’s attention to the numerous signs of her’s and Eda’s duel, wreckage scattered about. The guard turned back to them, what little of his eyes could be seen behind his mask glinting in dark delight. “The both of you will be coming with us to the Conformatorium! And please, feel free to resist.”

Luz felt rage, white hot and murderous, burn in her chest. This bastard was more or less saying that, because she was defending herself, something that she was now starting to think may have just been her overreacting again but still, she was going to be arrested, tossed in prison, and left to rot. Turning her gaze to an equally enraged Eda, she asked, “Truce.”

Eda blinked, before grinning ferally. “Truce.”

With a roar, the two rushed the guards. Luz dropped down, sliding under the legs of the lead guard, a ball of wind building in her hand. “Sparrow Swarm!”

Her spell lashed out in a burst of wind bullets in all directions, each individual hit resembling a small bird strangely enough, and took out the guard before he could react. With a twirl, she spun towards the next guard, Eda having already brought down the one closest to her, and they both launched a quick strike to the remaining guard, sending him onto his back. Luz was honestly surprised at how quick they went down, but then again, they didn’t actually seem all that competent. As she climbed to her feet, she spotted Eda magically collapse the stand they had been fighting near just moments before into a bundle she could carry over her shoulder. As the crowd from before came out, roaring in delight at the spectacle, Luz chuckled, rubbing her head in satisfaction at the outcome. Before she could start enjoying the cheers, however, Eda grabbed her by the arm, hoisting her onto her staff, which was flying and COULD FLY apparently, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Up you go, kid!” Eda smirked. “You owe me some answers, and I’d hate for Wrath’s goons to get their hands on you.”

Luz rolled her eyes. “Fine, but you owe me some answers yourself. Deal?”

Eda laughed. “Deal!”

And with that, they took off for the sky.

[arctic-the-archaic]

Day 5: Touch-Starved/ Hobbies

Commander Fox liked his armor.

Because of that, he didn’t remove more than his helmet and gloves very often.

And that meant he didn’t get physical contact too often. So when he did, he very nearly combusted.

Fox was sat at his desk, fingers moving quickly and precisely over the keyboard of his terminal. No, he was not typing a report, or anything duty-related. He was actually typing his personal logs. He knew some officers kept them, but he had never bothered until a few months ago, when it turned into something of a hobby.

Thire had made an offhand comment about reading something in Bly’s personal log about General Secura (Fox had immediately erased that from his mind. He did not need to know how they kissed. He’d already heard about it from Lucky anyway.) and had said that Fox should start keeping a log. That, and he quoted, “Maybe it’ll let us see when you actually have some fun.”

Fox was extremely glad they had been sparring when Thire started the conversation. Because it gave him an excuse to pound the shabuir into oblivion. Not that he actually did too much to the blond commander. It wasn’t important that Thire was completely right about Fox hardly ever having any fun.

He ended his log entry and went to power down the terminal, only for a knock to sound on his door. He cocked his head slightly, Who could that possibly be at this ti— oh.

“Enter.”

The door slid open, revealing Senator Riyo Chuchi. The two had been meeting once a week at night, to just…. talk. And Fox had grown even fonder of the Pantoran. Yes, fonder. Go on. Laugh it up Thire.

The blue skinned woman smiled softly, sitting in the chair across from him. “Hello Fox. Busy?”

The Commander turned his chair to face her. “I always have time for you, Riyo.” Yeah. Maybe don’t say something so forward next time shabuir.

But Riyo only smiled, “I’m glad.” One of her hands raised and laid atop his own.

Fox flinched slightly when her skin touched his, curling his fingers and slouching. It was such an extremely foreign sensation. His entire hand was suddenly hypersensitive. He could feel the lower temperature of her skin, she was a Pantoran after all. He could feel every indentation in the palm of her hand, the pads of her fingers, every callous. Her other hand came to rest atop his one, and he exhaled.

The woman leaned forward slightly, frowning in concern. “Fox? Fox are you alright?”

Don’t sound so sad, Riyo. I’m just a clone. I don’t matter.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah. I’m just not used to… people touching me.” The Commander muttered.

Riyo immediately went to withdraw her hands, but Fox’s free hand caught one of her wrists, making her stop. “No, no it’s fine. I don’t mind you doing it…. I’m just not used to it.”

Slowly, the Senator stood up and walked around his desk, pulling her chair with her. She stopped when she was opposite him without the desk in the way, sitting down and gently grabbing his hands again, intertwining their fingers. Every touch sent electricity jolting down the Guardsman’s spine. He was utterly hooked, he’d almost never had the sensation. Then Riyo did something special. She slowly leaned forward, and rested her forehead against Fox’s.

Fox’s breath hitched. She has no idea what that means to us. I… not that I don’t welcome it.

As he felt her breath tickle his lips, the Commander spoke. “Thank you. You have no idea how nice this is

The Pantoran smiled softly at the clone, giving one of his hands a squeeze. “Oh I think I do.”

And Fox just about melted.

“I… I suppose so.” He murmured, running his thumb across the back of hand. He felt the woman shiver, but didn’t question it.

“Fox.”

“Riyo.”

“I…”

And then the kriffing comlink went off.

Fox audibly growled as he sat up, ‘Commander mode’ in full effect when he picked up the comlink. “Fox here.”

“Sir, hostage situation at 3 Cresh South, 2923.” It was Lieutenant Vex, Aurek Patrol’s squad leader.

“Copy that. I want Thire there when I arrive, full block perimeter. Snipers overlooking the North, West, and East sides. Riot Troopers standing by on the south side. Negotiations are authorized until I am on scene. ETA five minutes. Fox out.” He attached his comlink to his bracer and quickly pulled his gloves and gauntlets on.

Riyo sighed so softly he almost didn’t hear. “You have to go?” She knew there was a hostage situation, but for once she wanted to be selfish. Not that Fox knew that.

Fox nodded, his facade softening slightly. “I’m sorry Riyo. You know I look forward to seeing you.”

Before he could say anything, she stood and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. “Come back safe.” She muttered.

Fox, slowly mind you, wrapped his arms around her as well. Her hair brushing against his cheek, her face against his neck, her body against his (from what he could feel through the armor), were absolutely foreign sensations. Though they were welcome. “I will. I promise.”

And then they pulled away, Fox pulling his helmet on and walking out. He acknowledged that he had found a new hobby, touching Riyo Chuchi.

Fox never knew that Riyo had come seconds away from kissing him.

Riyo never knew that Fox would have welcomed it.

Fox also never knew that Thire was a few hundred credits richer when he found out through Jek and Rys that Riyo almost kissed Fox. And for that Thire was thankful.

I finally made another one! That’s three Fives prompts and a Fox prompt in one day! I am proud. Here you are, @loving-fox-hours

[noonaduck]

In the eye of the storm pt.1

Pairing: reader x Hoseok /OT7 genre: Superhero &super villain AU, Smut, fluff, angst. series. Warnings: oral f&m, fucking. sex generally, cursing. Words: 3297 A/N: Hohoho you didn’t see this coming! ps. I have no idea of how often I will update this fic! Summary:  You lived in a world where superhuman abilities were reality. Around 15% of world population went through a mutations in their mother's womb that scientists weren't able to explain. These people with supernatural abilities were called meta-humans. Some of meta people decided to serve the world as superheroes whose job was to keep everyone safe. Like every coin people gaining superpowers had its down side. Because there wasn’t choosing who would born with extraordinary abilities sometimes the powers ended up manifesting in wrong people. Those people used their abilities for their own gain and the counter force for the superheroes was born. > 2.

[gifs belongs to their rightful owners.] -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You tried to block other passengers voices out with your headphones. You thought that with the amount that your plane ticket had cost you would been able to get some peace and quiet, but no. For your luck you were seated in front of pair businessman who were enjoying the benefits of their flight. They were arguing loudly while enjoying alcoholic beverages that the flight attendants were carrying for them. You were sure that the headache that was waiting for those men in few hours would be a nightmare. You were also suffering from headache but for completely different reasons. You hadn’t slept well for three days and were ready to bite the men’s head of in any given minute. You are ready to start your angry rant towards the men when a interesting news on the screen on the back of the seat in front of you gets your attention. You take your headphones of to listen. 

‘’...Due the fact that no one hasn’t been able to stop Storm causing terror in Electro City the police forces has asked help from U.O.J (Union of justice) to bring Storm and her associates in front of justice....’’ The newscaster tells with excitement in her voice. On the background is a tall skyscraper with the big blue logo U.O.J on display. Union of justice was an organization which controlled all the other superhero units around the world. U.O.J was acting as police force who supervised the supers. Their job included to relocate superheroes in to areas where wasn’t any or where they were needed the most. Famous leagues of superheroes like a BLACKPINK, which only accepted female superheroes or K.A.R.D which was famous of their mental abilities were all working underneath of U.O.J’s watch. ‘’So we are going to get new defenders of the law on our tail?’’ Yoongi’s lazy voice distracts you from the news on the screen. ‘’I thought you were still sleeping.’’ You say surprised. ‘’I was trying to but the passengers behind of us kept waking me up.’’ Yoongi sighs annoyed and pulls a sleeping mask from his face. His raven hair is messy after sleep and his brown eyes are paired with heavy bags. After all Yoongi had had stayed awake as long as you had.

‘’...The group assigned to look after Electro  City is called BTS which is shortened from Battle trusting supers.’’ The reporter continues while you listen with one ear. There had been other attempts to stop your plans and all of them had failed miserably so you weren’t that worried. ‘’Hmm, what do you think about the new heroes, can they put us behind the bars?’’ You ask quietly mildly interested in Yoongi’s opinion. Yoongi waits until a flight attendant has walked past your seats and answers with a smirk. ‘’They don’t have a chance.’’ ~

After painfully long security check at the airport you and Yoongi are finally able to leave to pick your bags. ‘’You would think that security checks would be faster with the current amount of technology.’’ You whine while walking towards the carousel carrying your bags. ‘’Perhaps it would be little bit faster if the city didn’t have a super villains to worry about.’’ ‘’Damn it, why anyone can’t catch Storm?’’ You complain while you wait for your luggage to arrive. ‘’Perhaps the police force isn’t capable enough.’’ ‘’excuse me, I couldn’t stop myself from hearing your conversation.’’ A very handsome stranger breaks into your conversation. The man has a bleached hair, wide shoulders and bright brown eyes paired with most luscious lips you have seen.‘’ While you keep checking the man out he continues talking. ‘’I heard that the city has been assigned with some new superheroes whose job is to end the terror of the Storm.’’ ‘’Yeah, I saw the news too.’’ You nod. ‘’Don’t you think that our city is losing its face when they have to call team of superheroes to help even though the captain of the force is super themself?’’ You add enjoying the opportunity to argue about the topic. ‘’To be honest I don't think that ability to control sound waves is that useful.’’ Yoongi adds in the conversation. Yoongi spots your luggage and goes to pick it up. ‘’Well I think it's quite nice, I could block the voices of my loud roommates.

 I’m Kim Seokjin by the way.’’ The man introduces himself after remembering that he hadn’t at the first place. ‘’I’m L/N Y/N and that grumpy looking one is Min Yoongi.’’ You tell offering your hand for Seokjin which accepts it happily. ‘’It’s pleasure to meet you.’’ Seokjin tells flashing a bright smile. His hand is much bigger than yours and you can feel the heat radiating from his grip. ‘’Y/N as much as I would like to let you flirt with airport stranger our ride is here.’’ Your gaze turns instantly towards Yoongi who has picked both of your bags while you were focused on your conversation. Yoongi is holding his phone on his hand and looking you with amused smile. ‘’Uh, it seems that I have to go.’’ You tell with slight disappointment and turn ready to leave when Seokjin stops you. ‘’Wait! Look if u ever want to talk about superheroes again here's my card.’’ He tells handing you a simple white card with his printed information. ‘’Maybe I will. See you around.’’ You tell waving for the man and following Yoongi out form the terminal. ~ You gasp when a second finger disappears into your heat. The rooms is filled with your small moans when the man between your legs works on his magic.

‘’Ji-jimin I’m close.’’ You warn and the man in question smirks. ‘’Already, you must have really missed me.’’ Jimin coos and lowers his head to suck your clit. You ignore his comment and tangle your fingers into his silver locks. The bedroom air is full of humidity from your heated and slick bodies. On the moment you have arrived home you had rushed to the one man’s arms you knew would give you relief without questioning you. Yoongi had just rolled his eyes and marched up the stairs in to his room, probably to continue sleeping. Jimin had looked you with surprise when you had launched yourself into his arms and pressed hungry kisses on the corner of his lips. 

You feel the familiar throbbing between your legs and are ready to let go when Jimin pulls away from your cunt leaving you pulsing when the orgasm slips away. ‘’What do you think that you are doing?’’ You narrow your eyes feeling pissed from your denied release. ‘’You didn’t call me even single time when you were away.’’ Jimin pouts. ‘’I don't think that you deserve to come so easily. ‘’Are you fucking serious.’’ You can feel the room air turning electric from your frustration and small sparks goes through your body. ‘’You called Namjoon. ’’Jimin mumbles and you push him away only to push him down on the mattress and you move sitting top of his thighs. You can see his hard member throbbing and small streaks of precum leaking from his tip. He is as horny as you are but decides that it's time to act petty in his jealous stage of mind. ‘’My sweet boy, you know that we aren’t dating. I’m not responsible in anyway to keep in touch with you when I’m away, besides I called Joon only because I needed his help.’’ You tell and rake your nails along his chest and  pinch his left nipple making him gasp. You run your vet tongue along his right nipple and suck it gently to make him squirm. Payback is a bitch. ‘’You needed Joon’s help for phone sex?’’ Jimin shutters in middle of his sentence when your hand trails down along his abs and your hand takes a hold of his erected member. ‘’So you were spying on us, tsk you are such a prat.’’ You slide lower down on Jimin’s thighs leaving behind wet path leaking from your soaked core. You open your mouth and hollow your cheeks putting Jimin’s throbbing member between your lips. ‘’I just happened to walk past his room when I heard you.’’ Jimin defends himself while sweat drips down his face. He doesn’t dare to move. Anticipation is rushing through his veins when you finally start to suck his length. Jimin’s dick feels heavy against your tongue and you can taste the slight taste of salt coming from his precum. You feel how Jimin’s thighs tenses underneath your legs when he tries to stop himself from squirming and his hands find your H/C locks. You work mercilessly, Speeding your sucking at random times to only suddenly slow down or go completely still. Your hand finds its place in the end of Jimin’s shaft where you can’t quite reach with your tongue. You trace the large vein on his dick with your tongue and slide your hand to squeeze his balls. ‘’Y/N I’m so close.’’ Jimin whines his half moon eyes tightly shut and his hands holding tightly on his bed sheets. hearing his words you still completely and pop your mouth away from his member. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his member and you swipe your mouth clean. ‘’If you want to come you need to make me come first with that dick of yours.’’ You smirk after receiving and angry glare. ‘’That is something that I can arrange.’’ Jimin changes into sitting position against the  headboard and his hands finds your hips. He guides you to hover above his hard member and with one hard push makes your seated on his dick feeling how his erection pulses inside of your walls. The speed that Jimin sets is merciless and he guides you to bounce up and down his dick while   his hands squeezes your hips. You feel the familiar knot tightening in your lower belly and your hand slides between your connected bodies and seek your clit. Jimin looks with hungry eyes how your fingers works on your own clit and groans loudly when your heat tightens around his member. ‘’Come for me.’’ Jimin demands and leans to seal his feverish lips against yours. Jimin bites your lower lip and the feeling is enough to make you see stars. Your walls squeeze hardly around Jimin and soon he is coming alongside you. When you come down from your high you are laying on top of Jimin’s body his dick still seated tightly inside of you. Jimin draws lazy circles on your back and when you lift your head to look at his face you can see the satisfied smile on his lips. ‘’Thanks, I really needed that.’’ You tell and roll over Jimin’s side to settle on his side while his now softened member slips out of you. ‘’Was the trip that bad, huh?’’ Jimin asks turning to cuddle you. ‘’Sadly.’’ You sigh. ‘’You should never trust people on this business.’’ ‘’Not even us?’’ Jimin asks arching his brows teasingly. ‘’I think that you know by now that you guys are only ones I trust. Otherwise I wouldn’t let you have been buried between my legs instead you would have met some shock therapy.’’ You tell raising your hand up lazily when small blue sparks dances along your fingers. 

‘’You surely know how to make your return quite exciting.’’ Jimin huffs while trying to stop himself from laughing.  ‘’Well we all need some excitement into our lives, don’t we?’’ You ask while a small yawn escapes your lips. ‘’Let's sleep for now.’’ You tell and close your eyes that are turning heavy.

You are feeling too satisfied and tired to care the mess on the bed sheets and the wetness between your legs. You know that you will regret not cleaning yourself up when you wake up but right now you couldn’t care less. ~ You find Namjoon in the kitchen reading a newspaper and sipping coffee from his steaming mug. He hisses lightly when the hot drink burns his mouth but continues his reading. He is so focused on his paper that he doesn’t even notice how his round glasses slips down his nose, a glasses that actually doesn’t need and uses only for the looks. ‘’Morning.’’ You greet quietly and head for the fridge. You pick a cart of orange juice and drink it down straight from the source. ‘’Morning.’’ Namjoon grunts and returns to his paper. You push the fridge shut and go sit on the bar stool next to Namjoon’s. ‘’What has gained you interest this morning?’’ You ask and learn curiously to see the article better which he is so interested in. Namjoon slides the paper closer to you without a word. There is a whole two page article about the new superheroes that are going to take over of supervising your city. Your eyes stops on the picture of the four superheroes posing in their supersuits. The first man on the right has cherry colored hair and muscular figure covered in black leather outfit with red sleeves. His mask is covering his whole face except dark and piercing eyes. ‘’Super Strength.’’ You mumble after reading the text below the figure and Namjoon hums on your side. ‘’Alias Kratos.’’* The second man had ebony hair and and the brightest smile you had ever seen. His suit was made of red latex and didn’t leave anything on imagination. Before you can read the description out loud Namjoon beats you to it. ‘’Apollo*2, a hero with ability to manipulate light and heat.’’ His mask covers only the area of his eyes. The third man was wearing a electric blue suit with a zipper in front paired with a mask of same color. He had shiny blue hair stopping on his ears and he was posing with confidence. ‘’V, also known as Victory has  superhuman speed.’’ You continue before Namjoon can and he answers with amused smile. ‘’And last but not least is Siren. He has ability of enchant you with his voice and control your mind for short periods of time.’’ Siren had a black suit with bright pink stripes on his side. The hero has blonde hair and he is sending flying kisses on the picture. ‘’All members of BTS are also highly trained with hand to hand combat and some simple weapons such as throwing knives and hand guns.’’ Namjoon finishes the section and you roll your eyes. ‘’You could think that the city would get the hint and give up already.’’ You sigh tiredly. ‘’Yoongi is up.’’ Namjoon remarks suddenly and soon enough you can hear the man coming down the stairs. Namjoon had the ability of super hearing and vision. When he was tired or unable to focus he sometimes slipped into stage of using his abilities without realizing. To add on that the man was also so intelligent that sometimes you wondered did he have super brain as well. Yoongi doesn’t bother to speak for you and instead heads straight to the coffee maker. He pours a steaming cup of coffee for himself and sit on the kitchen counter. Without any ceremony Yoongi begins to speak. ‘’So one of my old contacts connected me last night. he told me that the key we are after is actually being transported here into our city.’’ he tells casually and your jaw drops. ‘’So you are saying that our trip was waste of time?’’ You rub your face. Electro City was on the top when it came to developing new technology and new inventions. You and Yoongi had taken a trip to seek out the truth about a rumor that had been spreading in the spider web. Spider web was the term that underworld had given for a network of the people in the same profession. The key that Yoongi was talking about was told to be a device that could let you through any firewall or security system in the world. Possibilities with the device like that was endless. You could make whole nations to bow underneath you. The rumor that you had followed was that someone had already stolen the device form Big Hit, a high tech company that was specialized into security in all of its aspects. Sadly the rumor has been just a rumor so you had been left empty handed and the man who was supposed to have the device with few broken bones and black eye. 

‘’Yup.’’ Yoongi answers with emotionless face. You want to break something and closed thing on your reach was Namjoon’s now empty coffee cup that you mashed on the floor. Your temper has always been irregular, in one moment you could be all sunshine and rainbows and for the next second you would be blinded by rage. You didn’t know were your powers matched with your personality or was your personality matched with your powers. You were force of nature, able to call for storms and electricity for your aid. Without word Namjoon gets up from his seat and goes pick up a broom. Luckily for the people around you, you didn’t release your rage against them without a reason and instead directed it to your environment. By now your companions are used to your quick temper and they rarely flinch when you let yourself go. You come back down from your anger and blink slowly. ‘’Oh shit, I’m sorry guys.’’ You tell awkwardly and hurry to help Namjoon to pick the broken pieces of the mug. ‘’Don’t worry about it.’’ Namjoon tells flashing a dimpled smile. ‘’Usually I’m the one who breaks stuff.’’ ‘’Well yeah because you are clumsy, not because you have hot temper.’’You sigh. Yoongi continues to look you cleaning the shards in quiet and sipping his coffee. ‘’I heard last night how you released some steam with Jimin.’’ Yoongi says innocently trying to distract you. Namjoon coughs awkwardly and gets up from the floor going to throw broken pieces of the mug away. ‘’So what?’’ You ask trying to sound annoyed but small smirk rises to your lips. ‘’Did you want to join?’’ You ask and wink to Yoongi who rolls his eyes for an answer. ‘’No, I wanted to sleep but it was almost impossible.’’ Yoongi tells and jumps down the kitchen counter. He has finally finished his drink. ‘’Speaking of Jimin do you know where he is? He wasn’t in his bed when I woke up.’’ ‘’I think he went for jog.’’ Namjoon answers and pushes his black hair backwards even though it slips back down right after. ‘’I see.’’ You turn your attention back to Yoongi who is about to exit the room. ‘’Hey Yoongles.’’ Yes?’’ Yoongi stops on his track. ‘’Make sure that this time we won’t be running after gossips.’’ ‘’Aye aye boss.’’ Yoongi answers with lazy wave and disappears from the room. You look after him with amused smile and return to continue your morning humming softly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *Greek god of strength and power *2 Greek god of Sun, light & poetry and more-

[grim-faux]

24 - Morphogenic Engine

“The Engine.  The Morphogenic Engine.  It gets in my head like a song you can’t stop humming.”

The air is cool and fresh, filled with the scent of fallen rain.  Dusk is fast approaching and the lights from the lamp posts burn with a clarity I’m not accustomed to.  I take a breath smelling the moist soil, pine, soggy leaves.  I stare at the edifice before me, my adversary, a world of untold horrors, consuming nightmares as they manifest in fractured minds.  I couldn’t know any of this staring at the covered windows, the compliant walls.  The wind picks up and I pull the collar of my coat closer to my neck. That sense of foreboding returns. The place was unnatural, but I couldn’t decide how. It was just a tall building of brick and wood, with the mountainous region backdrops. The tall buildings thin spires stretched high overhead into the heavens, where men once flew to touch the sun. It was hard to imagine the warmth of the sun with the chilled air swarming. In my ears was a humming. It had always been present, unending and livid with cadence. But I had ignored it. Ignored it like I had ignored my instincts about this terrible place. Something was in the air, a charge, a warning. When did it become so thunderous in my ears? Or was that my heartbeat? I ran my thumb along the inside of my palm counting my fingers. When I reached the fourth digit I turned my head down and stared at my shoes. It buzzed in my bones, until my outer extremities were numb. My skin and muscles felt hot and cold all in the same sensation. It was too much. Or was it the sound? That persistent din, rising above the still forest and jagged mountains that surrounded me. Driving into my skull until I could hear nothing but the booming howl in my ears. I felt my consciousness waver, it was impossible to stay upright. Where did that sound come from? Who was making that noise?! Why?! Why did it follow me!? My lips pulled back over my teeth as my jaw clenched.  Why?  Why any of this?  Moisture rolled down my cheeks, a few drops hit my coat turning the brown into a black spot.

A sudden presence is at my back.  I could hear his breathing, soft but ragged.  I jerk my head up terrified to turn, frightened by what would be there, what I would see.  But the fear fades when the actions fails to come, and once again I was staring at the Engine of nightmares.  Mount Massive Asylum.

“Little ghost.” The voice crooned behind me.  “Little ghost.  Time to wake up.”

My eyes open a crack and I found the edge of my face pressed into my bloody shoulder.  Where Trager had clipped me.  The fabric of my coat felt sticky against my cheek, though the blood had dried hours ago.  I exhaled slowly letting myself reacquaint with the pain, my reluctant return to the muggy and distorted world I had come to inhabit.  A ghost to pragmatism.  It took a brief moment for my mind to catch up, reload the most recent events.  What had I been doing?  It was painful to recall.  How long had I been unconscious?  Enough to help me carry on.  I had no choice, there was no telling where Billy was.  I would get moving and leave the nightmares far behind. The air felt cold and my shoulders shook.  Needed to move.  Needed to get up. As I used my hand to brace my body up and leaned forward, I looked to the sheet of paper set on the computer desk beside the keyboard.  It was a single page, stained with a ring of coffee.  I focused on it reading through the lines over and over, even when I had it memorized.   Please find attached the “Permission to Proceed” form for patient William Hope, of the Murkoff Charitable Psychiatry program at Mount Massive Hospital in Colorado (USA). The form is standard, and all relevant lines have been signed. It appears Billy is unaware of his mother’s recent guided cardiac arrest. He is submitting to the experiment with the understanding (unfounded) of financial remuneration to his mother and a charitable contribution to her church. Wernicke, having read the boy’s dream reports, believes he has enormous therapeutic potential. Was Billy’s ‘success’ as an experiment, because he refused to die?  I couldn’t say.  He took the therapy they gave him, he bought their bullshit, and now he and his mother were no better.   Damn you Murkoff.  Damn you for this.  You reap what you sow, now choke on it. A drop of water stained the page, and I quickly rubbed the dampness from my face.  Carefully, I folded the sheet up and inserted it into a clean space of the notebook.  Not as evidence, I’m not sure what to call it.   I didn’t bother to zip the pocket shut.  I pressed my hands to the terminal as I straightened my back, working the stiffness from my muscles and feeling that piercing tingle in my ribs.  My feet felt firm under me but my heart was aching.  I was hollow and lost, despite the resolve that had solidified in me, for what must be done.  One task left to remedy, then I could wash my hands of this place. Aside from the alcove with the desk of computer terminals, there was no other space to explore, but for a short catwalk beyond the desks.  The grate extended out above the cavernous expanse of E Block, below extended the catwalks and paths I had dragged my broken body up.  The present lamps anchored to the walls gleamed with ferocity, I squinted my eyes against them as I stared out over the open gap I had thrown myself across.  The pain flared through my chest and I exhaled that stale coppery taste.  It barely registered in me that I had been up here for god knows how long, unconscious and Billy had an abundance of time to finish me off.  My dire state was somehow lost to my sense of self preservation, or maybe I was too focused on the humming of the generator.  I told myself Billy was weakened when his anesthesia was cut off, I had the advantage.  He was forced to wait.  Bide his time and wait for my return, and that was when I would fear for my life.  That was when I would run.  When that eerie shriek reached me.  Until then. Until then…. I checked through the cameras feed to view what was visible in the thick fog gathering.  The Morphogenic Engine must have been overheating, that’s the only explanation I could conclude for the condensation.  I bit my lip as the image in the visor flashed.  The power in the camera itself was getting low, and that could further contribute to its failure.  But there wasn’t much more of this to endure.  Another white lie to keep me going. The catwalk ended beside metal cabinets built into a cement shed, which extended from the floor somewhere below and up into the ceiling overhead.  This was it, it had to be this.  The generator for the Engine.  I was a bit shocked that it wasn’t more impressive, but perhaps I was only seeing the surface of it.  There would be a panel, a door to open and access the wires.  I secured the camera as I fumbled with the other hand, it was difficult to see but I attributed that to the steam.  One panel had a set of hinges along the crease in its side.  This was it.  There was no visible latch so I just gave the panel a good smack and the door popped open, allowing access to several large bundles of cables hooked into a transformer.  Which ones did I pull?  It was always a good policy to start with the middle of anything, if you’re not certain.  I took the middle bunch and put my other hand up.  It shouldn’t spark if I was careful, and don’t hold it too tight.  I winced as I snapped the clamp free.  Nothing happened.  Good.  I popped the rest free with reckless abandon.  

A soft whirring faded with the connection now severed, lights dimmed as emergency lamps activated in the same power shift.  Sirens chime a warning of the sudden interruption, the cavern groaned with the power loss as distant generators failed.  The experiment would perish, and the howl of something more rose up among the catwalks.  I couldn’t decide if the echoing call was the machine weakening, or the thing it kept alive.  I stood at the rail listening, as I poked my thumb into the cut in my coat sleeve.  Caused when Trager had endeavored to take my head off.   It was eerily silent, and wondered if at long last Billy would locate my position.  There was no doubt in my mind that I could reach the purge chamber before he reached me, but there was nothing.  No scream, no rippling distortions in the steam, no malevolent presence.  Only the soft chatter of the generator as it sputtered into silence.  I spun around and began my way back. That could have been it.  The memo did warn a possible interruption in the experiment, if sufficient distress was introduced.  The life support fluid and the anesthesia had been disabled, and Billy seemed unable to reach me despite my exhaustion.  Maybe cutting the power had been enough to stop him. I would still disable the Fail Safe.  That was the only assured way to terminate the Walrider swarm.  But that would be a simple matter once I reached the Morphogenic chamber.  It remained a ways on the other side of the facility, and I wouldn’t gamble that Billy wouldn’t be waiting on the other side of purge doors when they opened. My feet stumbled when I moved off the last step and crossed to the open doors, and the light within.  The purge doors gave a soft hiss as they shut, and I leaned on the wall as the mist filled the small space.  I was ready to bolt when the doors opened, my muscles were not ready to resume, but I wouldn’t stop.  I had to get around and keep going. When the panels scraped open, there was no shrill hiss to greet me, no vaporous form lingering beside the doorway.  I dithered, before I peered out with the camera.  I had to change the battery, but the replacement was full on power.  Enough to grant passage out of here. Nothing was there.  I made my slow trek through the corridor, unable to decide if there was this much blood when I first came through.  The pain in my skull intensified, I muttered something to myself.  I was trying to coax myself to keep moving.  It wasn’t much further, and then I could puke and pass out if I needed that.  I doubt it’d get me away from the pain for long. Despite the heaviness in my gut, my pace quickened.  Maybe that was it.  Maybe disrupting the life functions of Billy stopped the swarm.  It was too good to be true but I was making progress, as long as I didn’t let my guard down.  I didn’t need to get ahead of myself and fall into a trap.  That’s happened to me too many times.   The end of the corridor came into view and I slowed my pace to gaze out, straining my eyes to see through the blazing light in the damn visor.  Nothing to indicate the presence, no sound.  All was calm.  The visor did flash but it just did that.  I clasped a hand to my eye, that impossible pain.  Why my right eye?  Once I was moving again I could block it.  But why? As I began forward I hear it, very close.  That awful taste coated me throat, something about seizures.  And a light.  He wasn’t gone yet!  Where was it coming from?!  I spun about and saw the wavering ripples coalescing above the open expanse across from the catwalk, skimming towards me.  Shit.  Shit!  My foot caught on the rung of steps that elevated up to the grated walkway.  For god sakes Miles, PICK UP YOUR FEET! I shoved the knuckles of my camera hand into the gaps in the grate and pushed myself up, stumbling to get onto my soles.  Had to cut the corner, it was going to cut me off.  Gotta jump!  Secure the camera!  Gonna— jump— secure the camera! The edge of the walkway was under my feet and I launched off into open air.  I had no idea where I put the camera, couldn’t care in the moment.  It didn’t feel like I had enough momentum behind me when I jumped, but— I gave a sharp yelp when I was torn out of mid leap and dragged backwards.  I couldn’t overcome the terror that choked me, now that I was suspended high-high above a hard floor without a solid surface to latch onto.  And in so much pain!  My spine was somehow being flossed between my ribs.  I gagged and whimpered, Christ, the unnatural sensation!  My feet jerked beneath me and dangled, I couldn’t feel my toes.  My arms pin wheeled out from my body as I tilt backwards, disorientated by the violent movements I was being spun in.  The camera!  My mind automatically locked onto that.  I felt the cameras weight in my upper arms sleeve.  I found my camera!  It was safe! I snapped around and suddenly the apparition was at my face.  It was expressionless from what my distorted vision could make out, but I could FEEL it sneer.  Its anger.  I stare wide eye trying to take calm breathes, its ‘hands’ tighten around my chest and I let out a whimper.  The pressure was intense, digging through my coat and shirt and piercing into my muscles.  I couldn’t help but let out a pitiful sound. No.  No.  NO!  Guts and gore!  Liquefied Murkoff!  Chris’ final squeal of agony as his body scattered over white stone.  A blast of cold pulses through my body as I try in vain to kick free, but I can’t feel my legs. The Walrider fades and I give a short cry as I’m propelled backwards, my neck snaps back on my shoulders and the sharp pain flares through my skull.  I can’t see where the Walrider has gone, but I’m twirling through open air, falling past the rungs of the steps I had hobbled up earlier.  The light flashes over my eyes as I plummet, screaming as the ground is coming up fast.  For some reason I wonder if my camera will survive the impact. Then it’s there in an instant, I can’t keep track of what’s happening with my ears ringing.  One of my arms plasters to my side as the other flops out, searching for a balance, some sort of hold.  I can’t decide if I’m still falling or rising, but I open my eyes and to take in the light.  I squint against the bright lamps, and its then that I feel its arms digging into my midsection.  The cruel shriek blasts through my ear, as it flips me over.  The edge of the metal catwalk is right there!  I snap my eyes open and claw out for the metal edge, desperate and panicked.  I’m positive I could reach it!  An inch more!  Even if I don’t have the strength to pull myself up, I have to get free of its painful clutch! I yowl out as the Walrider constricts, I could picture my organs popping one by one under its ‘fingers’.  There was a sound, I’m unsure it if was the Walrider or me, but I’m flung away.  My heel smashed over something metal as I spiral, tumbling down through the muggy steam.  I see the light and shadows pulse by my eyes, mixing until I’m dizzy and sick.  I let loose a sob when I see the pallets and barrels on the floor below, come into focus.  NO!  NO!! Somewhere in the dark it snags me and I struggle wildly against its grip.  The cruel hands twist deep into my chest, its sharp fingers coil over my collar bone.  Ice.  It’s just like ice!  My jaw snaps loose and I gag, and howl, anything to drown out the pounding in my ears.  The electrical plague surging through my body.  Its hold loosened then, and I plummet through the dark before smashing into the light.  And the stone floor.  I try and brace my fall by throwing my arms up, to protect my head from the lamps.  Keep my teeth from scattering.  My elbows absorb some of the blow, and I hit with all my weight onto my bad side.   It probably wasn’t the best action, but I immediately thrust myself upright from my hands and try to stand.  To walk.  I moan in my throat as the world tilts, I can barely see with the way the colors distort in the light above.  My ribs shift back into place and I gasp, struggling to catch my breath without choking on my tongue.  God… can I walk?  Am I able to— Not done!  I’m not done yet!  I lean on my leg as I take a step closer to the stacks of bags on the pallet, covered in the blue tarp.  My body swings to the side, but I manage to stay upright.  It’s a massive accomplishment for the effort I put in, and I don’t want to fall again.  I plant my feet apart and scan my current whereabouts over.  The steam has gotten so thick, and it’s become hard to breath without choking. I’m across from the double doors that lead back to the Morphogenic chamber.  I stare at them groggily as I take a step, and promptly lose my balance.  I hit the tarp covered materials and sprawl over the blue surface.  I’m hurt bad, but not done, not by a long shot.  My breath wheezes and I barely get back up on my feet, ignoring the small wet patch of red I’ve left on the plastic cover. Somewhere overhead the Walrider shrieks.  Its hurt or it is dying at long last, one of the two.  If it wasn’t it would have killed me then.  If it has a second chance it will succeed. I manage to reach the doors and get one open.  I leaned on the doors edge as I pushed it open, then slumped on the cool metal panel as I force it shut.  I take a slow breath.  Pick up the pace Miles.  Almost done.  Promise. I pushed away from the door as the Walrider came into view below, driven by its unrestrained fury to paint the walls with my blood.  I took another breath, doing my best to ignore the pain chewing in my skin.  It’ll hold for a minute tops, but only concluding this would save my life.  I spun away and pushed myself into a steady jog, and blocked.  Blocked out the hum, blocked the pain.  I blocked out my humanity. The corridor seemed shorter, or maybe I remembered it wrong.  I skipped to a stop at the barrels and wedged myself through, and grunted through clenched teeth as my side rubbed on the rough pallet.  I dropped to my knees on the other side as my mind swam.  Pain.  Have to get up.  But the pain dragged me down.  A mere few feet away was the metal door, the Morphogenic chamber.  Everything I had wanted.  Everything I had tried to accomplish.  I pushed myself to my feet and gripped the handle, and used it to pull myself up until I was standing.  “Get this done.  Get it done, and I can leave it all behind.  All of it.” The inhuman cry of the thing from the dark followed me, echoing in my ears.  It was coming. I stumbled through one door and dragged it shut after me.  I tried not to cough on the thick vapor, as I staggered to the edge of the steps.  We’re good.  We’re good.  Keep it together, almost there.  I took a few deep breaths deliberately agitating my ribs, and focused on Wernicke’s machine.  This was it.  This was the end to all this madness.  Find the control panel.  Deactivate the machine.  Kill the creation. The chamber looked to be in distress, the air was now clogged with dark smog.  Lights flared across the ceiling, arks of electricity sparked over the dodecagon structure that dominated the center of the room.  Monitors for computers regulating the machine flashed errors, probably indicating the test subject.  Throughout the chambers panic, a siren blared to summon the doctors in and correct the error.  But all the doctors were dead, their remains scattered to the furthest edges of the facility.  There was no one left to hasten in and aid the experiment that had destroyed them. The stairs winding to the Engines base were excruciating to rush down, but I’d rather be on them.  I supported myself on one arm while the walls continued to tilt, the pulsing lights didn’t help either.  The camera stuffed in my shoulders sleeve was becoming obnoxious and I risked pulling it out, to have… in case.  I ignored the damp spot in my coat.  I’d be fine once this was done.  Like magic or something.  One choir I had to complete.  Billy’s pod was in fail safe mode, but I would fix that shortly.  I’d give him the closure he deserved and I could go on with my life elsewhere. Or what was left of it. I made it to the floor and stumble around the barrels situated by the copper tanks.  Immediately, I began hunting for the front of the machine.  The primary terminal regulating control over Billy’s pod.  The dull thrum bore deep into my brainmatter, but I only realized then that I’d left the sound behind in the corridor.  The white noise had followed me. I winced and held my chest as I scanned through the gray fog, struggling to stay on my feet as I sought both apparition and its control.  Embers shot off the metal plates of the Engine and I could smell burning.  God, I hated that smell, but I think it was the best thing I could have in my nose right now.  The Engine was overheating, it just might burst into flames when I shut down the systems.  Wouldn’t know until I initiated it.  I neared the front of the room with the glassed in upper floor.  Where the scientists monitored the Morphogenic Engine systems through the computers.  It was here, at the front.  I remember that much. When I escaped I’d have to find a safe place to lay low.  This was more than what I had bargained for.  With knowledge that Dr. Wernicke was alive and well following this, would only invite an unfortunate ‘accident’ for me in days to come.  Couldn’t risk losing my camera in the process, though it being so beat up might deter a theft.  But I needed to make copies of the files.  I needed medical attention foremost, someone I could trust.  I don’t know if I could make it that far.     Too much to think about.  Plan it as it came.  I located Billy’s pod at the front of Wernicke’s machine, and no more than three feet away the panel ablaze with sparks.  Frantic warnings all surging, demanding attention.  The experiment was doomed.  I dashed to it, jarred my side, didn’t give a fuck, and smashed the panel with my hand. Done and done.   The Engine gave a remorseful hum that rumbled through my body, as it clashed across the chiseled interior of the Morphogenic chamber.  It felt good.  I clasped the camera between my palms and leaned back as red warnings burned on the screen.  WARNING.  WARNING.  FAILSAFE SYSTEM OFF.   I shut my eyes against the offensive messages and gripped the camera a little tighter in my hands, focusing on the gaps between my fingers.  Like hell it was, let him die.  I braced my elbows on the panel and turned my head to witness as Billy began thrashing within his pod.  It looked painful.  As he withered the restraints in his chest and throat tore free, releasing his blood within the nutrient fluid.  I raised my camera to get all of this in, and exhaled a small breath.  It was over.  This nightmare was over and I could get the fuck out of here.  Nothing to stop me now. No more deformed giants, no more naked twins, no more fanatical priests.  Just the road ahead and me.  And my camera. The pod was turning black with blood and my stomach turned.  I looked away for a brief moment when something solid smashed into me from behind, causing my body to smack chest first into the pod.  My head was pounding and I felt the vision distort in my left eye.  My muscles stiffened, charged with energy and pain.  No.  No…  He was dead!  I tried to push myself back, while keeping in mind to LOCK my fingers on the cam— A powerful force wrenched me around and I let out a snarl as my ribs rubbed into my skin.  Staring me right in the face was the Walrider, or what was left of it.  The swarm was beginning to disperse, mutating the dark vapor into an insubstantial skeletal frame.  Each of its links and joints were exposed for scrutiny, even the network of miniscule tubes in the dark bone.  I couldn’t make out where its arms were but I could feel them dig through my coat, within my shoulders with needle like ends.  My vision flashed as it shoved me back against the pod, the back of my skull cracked on the hard surface and I saw a flash of red.  I smelt something odd, scorched cloth or blood.  Fluid dripped from my nose and slid across my lip.  The salty taste overwhelmed my senses. The swarm flashed out of sight and I found myself yelling, as I accelerated with alarming speed through the air by that piercing pain IN my arms.  A wall came into view through the steam, and I instinctively raised my arms before my skull could smash to bits.  I hit with such force my arms and coat sleeves barely absorbed my face.  My chest plowed HARD into the jagged stone, and an audible crack sounded somewhere in my muscle, over my strangled wail.  The Walrider vanished, for good I doubt.  I tumbled off the stone wall and hit the floor, rolling out of control.  The room was spinning, even when I came to a rest on my side.  I tried to hold my weight up off my tender ribs.  The plastic shell of my camera scrapped the polished floor as I shifted.  It was still in my grip…  This wasn’t over.  I needed to stash it somewhere safe.  I put my hand over it, feeling the fresh wet blood now spilling from the reopened wounds on my hands.  I needed to get away from here, get away from this area.  Who the fuck knew how long before the swarm dispersed completely. As I was getting off my knees, the insubstantial form materialized to some degree before me.  It gave a grinding hiss as it grabbed me by the shoulder, tearing into my muscles with its cold clutch and flung me high across the room.  I screamed as I sailed unaided through open air, until gravity delivered me to the floor and I flopped over and over.  Once the momentum abandoned me, I blinked and felt my consciousness dim.  ”Up Miles!  Get!  UP!” In my fall the cameras strap had loosened over my hand, I should try to fix that.  I braced my arms under my side and pushed up, and focused on the spherical pod full of dark matter.  Wasn’t that Billy’s pod?  It was getting hard to see because of the smog.  This is what I told myself.  In truth it was becoming difficult to see my hands beneath me.  It was because of what I’d done, but I had no choice. I had to fix their mistakes.  I had no idea how to finish it now.  How to kill Billy. I had only hurt him the worst way imaginable.  The only way he COULD be hurt.  I had become Billy Hope’s Nightmare.  I was now the Horerczy.  I was the only thing that could kill a Walrider. And he would prove to me, how wrong I was.

The shrieking wail shot through my eardrums, and the remains of the Walrider’s dark shape loomed over me.  The world became inaudible, in the one way I hated seeing the world.  Far away and under water.  I tried to focus on it and what it was up to, but all I managed was a wet cough.  This seemed to upset it, for when I looked up it had swept over the black pod and descended onto me.  It snared my midsection in its powerful grip and dragged me along the white floor.  I yowled and released the camera.  The bone in my finger tore at the cement as I tried to claw for a bump, a niche.  Enough to knock me loose!  Even if it descended upon me in the next moment and ripped me to pieces, I just wanted that one last second!  A pause in this torment! 

The Walrider ascended swiftly to a staggering height.  I gawped wide eyed and stared at the shrinking floor below, as I dangled upside down.  I moaned through my teeth as my weight bore down on its sharp form, and it repaid in kind by crushing my sides.  I felt something pop in my throat as I let out an agonized sob.  When we arrived at a desirable height I was flopped up, and crashed my back into the stone wall behind me.  My legs kick out seeking solid surface, some comfort that I’m not so high up.  In no way can I thrash free and dislodge my body from the unnatural grip tangled deep throughout my organs.  I lose some of my fight when the agony constricts my chest, and I give a weak twitch as this odd tingle works from my forehead down to my toes.  Death.  I’m dying.  I can’t believe I’m dying. 

The dimming form of the swarm pinned me here, and worked its hands into my chest.  I grappled with my coat, unable to feel or grip and dissuade its punishment.  Oh god, the sounds I made as its unnatural extremities wound through my cells and tangled with my nerves.  Pain.  Too much.  My legs kicked and twitched in a vain effort to dislodge my body.  The Walrider chattered and pressed deeper into my muscles.  No god, please….  I looked down to where it had buried its arms up to its elbows, and let out a choked sob.  No, please….  

”I don’t want to die…”

 The bloodshed throughout the Asylum, Chris Walker, ruptured corpses and scattered innards.  Everything I had been subjected to.  The images I had seen pulsed white hot, intensified in my mind like wild fire. Death, the insanity, the pain.  All of it burned through my mind as red soaked my memories.  How long ago had it been?  When was it last that I was alive? 

An anguished sound spilled from my throat as I was held there, suspended twenty feet above a stone floor. The swarm reinforced its inhuman grip on my sides, or slid deeper into my guts at its leisure.  Fuck, this was no damaged mind of a child.  This was a wild animal devoid of remorse.  This was pure evil. 

This… was my end. 

Gazing into the broken horror of science, my last sensations would be immeasurable pain followed by the release of the void.  I had fought this far, to die in the end.  What cruel irony.  With my fading strength I focused on its ‘face,’ and I swear there was a connection.  I don’t know if it recognized it, if Billy understood.  But I swear.  It was there. 

The Walrider paused in its reprieve to confirm my comprehension, my reservation for the fate it had planned for me, as all of its victims shared.  It could make this last forever if it wanted.  To ensure I had learned my lesson, that I knew my place.  It would let me die only because it allowed it.  But maybe I had already suffered enough.  Then, it lurched, or that could have been me slumped in its grip.  I watched blearily as it dispersed, dissolving from sight.  I sobbed out in revulsion as I felt the chilling sensation of its presence grind through my bones, into my muscle.  I gained enough consciousness to seize at my chest in a futile effort to hold my innards together the moment before they were expunged outwards, off of my skeleton.  

I became aware that something had gone wrong about two seconds later, when I was howling against the sudden exhilaration that override the pain in my body… as I fell twenty feet to solid cement.

My shoulder hit first and my leg came down hard next, and I actually heard something snap.  I felt the pierce of pain through my spine when the bone cracked.  I was stunned when I couldn’t decide where the injury occurred, my entire body burned with raw agony.  And yet, I was still conscious and alive.  I lay for a moment groaning, my mind resetting slowly as everything cleared.  The alarms still wailed.  Flashing red and white swirled through the room, but it wasn’t the grinding howl that had pounded my senses.  My migraine had suddenly cleared!  Instantaneous relief flooded my skull like waking up in a soft bed, after a long, deep sleep.  What happened?  Why? Carefully, I propped myself up to look around, stunned yet amazed.  The air was thick with burning computer components, the smog was growing heavier.  But of the threat.… Nothing. There was no swarm.  There was no Walrider.  Only the barrage of warnings and system errors as the stasis pod failed, and within it, its prisoner.  Billy was dead. I had done it.  My mission was over.  I had succeeded in surviving my final errand.  Why didn’t I feel good about it? A few feet from where I had plummeted was my trusted confident, my camera.  Did it still work?  I don’t think it mattered anymore.  I attempted to rise, but a sharp bolt of heat traveled up my leg.  The break.  I turned with sluggishness to check it, and noted the large black spot along the side of my coat.  No doubt the rib was exposed, I had no idea how bad the lung was punctured but with heavy despair I tasted the copious stain of copper on my tongue.  I had to get out of here.  Had to get up! How easy it would have been to lie down.  I braced my elbows on the cement and inhaled a careful breath, then let it out.  The floor was cool to my fevered body, and all the aches and breaks could just fade away.  I might never wake up, but that seemed fine.  Doctor Wernicke himself told me, I was meant to die here.  The moment I set foot through the open window of the Asylum, had sealed my fate.  I would never be allowed to leave.  Billy had made sure of that. Braced on my elbows, I pulled my body over onto my good leg and rest my weight to the knee.  I repeated this process, shuffling little by little until I had reached my camera.  Everything was on this.  Everything that was done here.  I’d be damned if I didn’t waste some precious energy to ensure its safe extraction.  However far I…. I fumbled a bit with its options, while I collected my fractured mind.  The camera clicked and the image was a bit distorted, but it worked.  I assured myself that the vital operations would continue to function, and I could lift the images off…. later.  Evidence.  Proof.  It needed to be confirmed on camera.  I did it.  I had done this.  I braced my side with an arm and leveled the camera to capture an image of the murky pod, and the now deceased William Hope.   “Billy is dead, the Walrider, the swarm, whatever it is, unmade with him.  Whether I escape or die here, I am free.”  For a beat I paused to look up from my notes and gaze distantly on my surroundings.  Gone.  Everything the scientists had hoped to achieve, undone by their creation, and executed by my hand.  I felt no pride in this, I just wanted out.  Out in any manner fate saw fit for me.  It would be a long walk to the exit in Block… in Block…. Fuck.  I knew where it was, and that’s what mattered.  I’d find my way there eventually. I secured my camera in its pack and pressed my palms to the floor, then inched my good leg under me.  Satisfied with its stability I pushed up, stumbling as the world spun.  The winding coil of pain worked through my bones and buried deep into my nerves.  Even if my legs were chopped off, I’d still walk out on those stumps.  Fuck you Trager.  Fuck you.  I would stand up.  I would walk out of here. The ringing in my head was near silent, and I didn’t take this as a good sign.  It felt like preempt shock.  My body was steady enough to stay upright, but my metabolism was crashing.  I was poisoned by the chemicals in my head and I needed medicine, something to stabilize my body before it killed me. Once I had my bearings I turned, making a slow trek towards the steps that rose to the Plexiglas chamber.  Shapes blurred around me, but I was certain without a doubt those were the steps I had staggered down at the beginning of the mad race.  If they were not, I had plenty of time to reflect as I made my way to them.  One careful step after the next, just take it easy.  There was no hurry.   Only the outer bone of my leg must have snapped.  I could get some weight on it but very little.  It allowed me to shuffle along, without grieving my ribs any more than necessary.  If I stopped moving at this point I might not be able to rouse myself from passing out The floor along with the yellow rail faded and I collapsed over the steps, coming up short on the metal grate as I caught myself on my elbow.  The shattering pain that I had anticipated upon my fall was absent.  Perhaps my adrenalin was out of control.  My body was in survival, panic mode.  The chemicals in my blood were poisoning my brain, from the overdose of adrenaline to whatever infections I might’ve picked up in the hellish sewers.  I took a breath and winced, feeling the tickling itch in my side where the rib had breached the skin.  There was little hope in my mind that I was going to live to see tomorrow. But damn, I would not die here.  Not here!  Not in the sewers.  Not in the basement.  Not here!  I pulled myself up by the rail and put my foot under me, I braced my knee over the next step and forced my good leg to lift my body, to burden my weight.  These were the last steps I would have to deal with, I could get up them.  It wouldn’t be the last thing I do here.  My feet were heavy, but I managed to get them over each rung and reach the clear sliding doors.  I braced myself along the edge of the doorway, and stumbled into the Morphogenic Engines control room.  My good leg for no other reason but to spite me gave out, and I crashed against the nearest desk.  I wheezed out a pitiful breath, it tasted like copper and salt had stained my throat.   C’mon.  The exit isn’t much further. I wanted to believe that.  Shove hope down my throat.  The exit was just down the hall, through the next set of doors after the first.  Those horrible doors.  It was, how many?  Fifty steps.  Fifty short steps, I could make that.  The desk was so comfortable though, sturdy and solid, and real.  I looked down at my knee crumpled under me.  The room whirled around my head, far away.  Hushed.  Beyond my dazed senses.  I was breathing hard, and a thin trail of drool had soaked a black patch in my filthy jeans.  Red drops were falling from my nose, and I barely realized that my nose was bleeding.  I wanted to pretend it was only a broken blood vessel caused by stress, but that was another one of those white lies.  I needed to stop trying to fool myself with those. Fifty steps.  I could make fifty steps.  What was fifty steps to me?  I’ve been running around this Asylum all evening.  It wasn’t that much further. I told myself this.   I promised myself these things. I had nothing left to keep me going on. The bright lights of the hall would have been comforting, if I wasn’t so burnt out on the clinical and detached feeling of the lab.  My vision distorted as I slumped against the doorframe.  Take a breath, a little pause.  Let my senses settle into place.  I thought I saw Dr. Trager waiting by the door, running his mouth like only he could.  But he looked the way he must have before whatever happened to him, complete with a fine lab coat blotted with blood.  He did dress like a white collar business douchebag.  Instead of golf clubs he had a syringe, and directed its sharp end into the side of my neck. I brushed Trager aside and persisted, he couldn’t stop me.  No one could stop me.  I felt myself falling again, my legs dissolved under my weight.  When did I become so heavy?  I braced my arm to the floor and tried to stay off the camera, I was slipping down to my side.  To just give in.  To just sink into the sleep and never wake up. The lights dimmed to some degree, or my eyes were shutting, but the Walrider hoisted me up and we continued.  We were so close to the doors, they were a few steps and a stumble away.  The chiseled white walls of the corridor seemed brighter, but its luminous intensity didn’t burn my eyes as it had in my previous trip through.  The air was calm, almost alarming to my overtaxed mind.  I tried to remind myself this was the way it was meant to be, when you were not cowering under a massive migraine.  This was sweet liberation from the pain.  I was just exhausted. I was getting near the exit of the Morphogenic wing now, and a wave of relief enveloped me.  A deadly contribution to my sick mind.  My steps faltered and I dropped, managing somehow to hit my cheek on the cement floor without cracking a tooth.  The Walrider waited beside me as my scattered mind cleared.  I heard Father Martin whisper something into my ear, the same as when he first found me.  I wanted to ask if there was a heaven waiting for me.  He only smiled, and the buzzing in my limbs murmured something with great urgency.  I just wanted the world to stop. The lights faded before I blinked back into clarity.  No.  Don’t sleep, don’t fall.  Not here.  I’m so close.  A small red puddle had gathered under my cheek, and I gladly lifted myself from it.  I took a moment to pull together, and swallow down the blood that lined my throat.  No more fading, no more pauses.  It was obvious by now I could not escape my fate, I had been fooling myself from the beginning.  For me, nothing lay beyond this place but death.  But goddamn it, I was NOT going to die inside these cold labs where so many had perished in the name of science.  I would get outside and I would die bathed in the warmth of the sun, knowing that I had beaten them all!  With that resolve whirring in my head I put my weight on my fist and pushed, rising up one last time.  Once and for all, I would make it out of this fucked up place.  I felt a bit of my strength returning as I shuffled forward, maybe I had been out for a minute, or an hour.  However long was enough.  I wasn’t stopping until I was finally in the sunlight. I was reminded briefly of my mutilations as I reached for the handles of the doors.  My index finger on my right hand, and my ring finger were— A sudden gust of air swept over my face as the doors swung outward.  I was not processing what was happening, as the click of weapons primed for assault were shoved at me.  Guns.  Assault rifles.  Held by soldiers.  MHS.  Special tactical cops, the same as the one that had warned me away seconds before his death.  Dazed, I wondered if he was still dead.  It took a half second before the panic finally latched onto my mind, the realization that this was happening.  This was really happening right here.  They were in my way, and they were going to kill me. Not armed!  I wasn’t armed!  Did they think I was dangerous, had they mistake me for a variant?  True, I had forgotten how god awful I must have looked, but I couldn’t help it!  I could hardly stand!  I put out my hands and limped back trying to warn them, but all that came out was a spray of blood as I exhaled a pitiful sound.  I sniffled, trying to clear the blood in my nose.  No!  Don’t do this.  Not when I was so fucking CLOSE! Then I saw him.  That man, whose corpse I had promised to fix nicely with a hacksaw.  Dr. Rudolf Wernicke amidst these militants, and waiting patiently for my requiem.  I fixed him with my eyes.  A look of betrayal?  A look of bafflement?  Why, after everything I have done for you, would you end me right here, right now?  I wanted to die in the fuckin sunlight! The first bullet hit before the piercing resonance shattered my thoughts.  I spun on my good leg upon receiving full impact, and manage to stay upright.  My vision blurred but I didn’t feel the pain, it hadn’t been recorded yet in my nerves.  Then, I thought I saw, right there.

My shadow….

Without a word, the hall is filled with the magazine chatter as the lead soldier emptied his arsenal in me. I was only grateful as I dropped, that about a fourth of the expense had lodged into my torso and hip.  Not like a concussion; not like a splitting migraine.  I’m still me, I can feel it settle deep in my marrow. 

This time it didn’t hurt to collapse to my backside.  A splash of blood hit me in the face, from about a dozen severed arteries. I had this odd sense of vertigo, an out of body experience as the darkness pooled over my eyes. Dying.  God, my bodies dying.  I can feel it - sliding off from me.  This is real, this is happening… In the now.  It’s sinking in.  The futility of it all… death.  My death.  It’s just… I’m losing touch.  Everything stopped inside me, and… I can’t restart it. 

 No.

In my last moments, I can ponder over the cruel irony. That no matter my hopes, my aspirations tangled into this god awful place.  Even the soldiers with their guns could not steal it all away.

I am free.

My consciousness drained out, and coalesced… elsewhere.  It was all over.  I was done.  Lost.  My vision blurred, dimmed.  I’m too damned tired to resist any longer.  Give in.  Sleep.  The world became a far off impression, a recollection in a pool that I could gaze down into, and saw only my reflection. It was all I had come to expect in the end; ragged, soaking red, and broken.

Forget….

Somewhere.  Someone stuttered in utter disbelief, “Gott im Himmel. You have become the host.”

That hissing whirr.  The static in my camera that I had grown accustomed to, filled my skull. The sounds of gun chatter persisted, and the frantic shrieks of men met my dulled senses. This crushing thought came over me as I accepted the void, the shadow, the emptiness of my failure. There would be no light waiting for me on the other side. There was no afterlife, no rest for my weary soul. Instead, I only saw red.

[peters-starks]

CONTROL

Peter Parker x Enhanced!Reader 

Summary: Based on the song Control by Halsey . The reader has had their abilities chemically enhanced by a new wing of HYDRA, using her as their new secret weapon. However when the avengers discover her on one of their missions her life completely alters. 

They send me away to find them a fortune A chest filled with diamonds and gold The house was awake, the shadows and monsters The hallways, they echoed and groaned

Your blood pumped through your veins, drumming in your ears as you ran through the corridors, the sound of an alarm was blaring but you could only faintly hear it over the screaming inside your head, everything in your body urging you to stop but the fear of what they would do to you kept your movements on autopilot, throwing armed guards against walls with the twitch of your fingers.

You turned the final corner that would take you to the door to the central of the warehouse according to the blueprint you studied on the journey from HYDRA’s base. Blocking your view of the doors stood a dozen guards armed heavier than any of the others you had faced yet. Body shield and armour covered them completely as guns lay in their hands, as well as a glowing blue light that was wrapped around their necks. You tried to move them by throwing your arms open expecting them to crash into the walls clearing you a path but instead the glowing devices around them flashed red. They must have expected your arrival.

You cracked your neck to the side and gulped slightly, although you had been intensively trained and beat into your hand to hand combat becoming next to precise however, fighting up close, looking into the eyes of those you are being made to harm unnerved you. It reminded you that everything they had done to you and everything you are living through wasn’t some sick fever fuelled dream but was the hellish existence you are put through every waking moment. You leaped towards the first line of guards easily knocking their guns off them, straddling one of the soldier’s shoulders, using your thighs to apply pressure to their neck and using your free hands to rip the devices from their necks so you could throw them into the guards behind them taking out 4 at once. As the one you had locked between your thighs passed out one grabbed you from behind after smacking the back of your head with his weapon, knocking you onto the hard concrete floor and almost certainly leaving a bruise. Just as you were about to pounce back up a voice caught you off balance.

“That’s no way to treat a lady now, is it?” the American accent echoed across the concrete walls briefly stopping the brutal assault. Using the distracting, and without even a glance at the mystery voice you used this as your chance to sprint towards the door, tearing off a device from another guard and twisting his body into a ball, chucking him like a bowling ball knocking down the soldier’s that had realised your attempted flee. You grabbed the door handle and as you pulled it towards you a metal shield painted red and blue, a striking white star in the centre of it cracked the door as it soared into it. “Tony, we have an enhanced”.

Captain America was crashing your mission.

You whipped your head around and glared at the tall man, suited up in his iconic uniform before squinting your eyes. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as the door creaked underneath your glare, the door that now had his shield buried into it was coming off its hinges and next thing he knew he was ducking as it hurtled over his head and hit a very surprised Spiderman standing behind him.

You dashed inside and grabbed the metal box engraved in a foreign tongue you weren’t sure was a human language Exerting the rest of your energy you ripped a hole in the wall for an easy escape, avoiding getting your ass handed to you by what seemed like the full avenger’s squad. Blood trickled down your nose as the thick metal wall tore like paper creating a gap just big enough for you to squeeze through. The fact ripping a 6 inch thick metal wall had almost made your brain melt is what you are attempting to blame the fact that you didn’t sense an almost 6 foot spider child swinging through behind you until a powerful web sprayed across your hand that was holding the box forcing your body, hand first, into the wall as you let out a groan on impact.

“You know, stealing isn’t very nice” Spiderman’s voice took you by surprise, sounding higher than what you had imagined making you believe he was younger than the estimated 25-30 years of age his HYDRA file had stated. The eyes of his suit stayed wide in an animated fashion as you struggled against the web, not yet feeling up to using your powers again to escape and also at this point losing hope, knowing almost nothing can be worse than going back to hydra and being their experiment, you just hoped the avengers would make it quick.

As iron man landed, his helmet dissolving around him which you assumed was the Nano tech hydra had been failing to copy for a couple months now, and you had some scars to prove it, he stared at you almost as if he was confused. “so, kid, who are you working for and what do you want with the weird shiny alien box?”

At first you simply stared at him, eyes narrowing in distrust. Although the avengers were hailed as “earths mightiest heroes” you still didn’t trust them. If the majority of the tech that HYDRA has had come from the avengers and most of what they had done to you was based off of them then you knew they were just as bad, only better at hiding it.

“I think you’re smart enough to figure that out” you mumbled, venom lacing the hushed tones of your voice making the female, you assumed was black widow, smirk.

“so what are we gonna do with her then?” Captain America quizzed as they crowded around you like the cover of a box set. You could see their hands occasionally twitch over their weapons as they stood at high alert, not knowing the capabilities of your powers.

Iron Man rubbed his hand over his forehead and sighed “I guess take her back to the compound for questioning then seal her up until we can understand her abilities more” . Seal. Seal. More confinement. Your blood ran cold and panic set in, more and more confinement, more tests, more alienation even from those who held similar differences. Without even thinking your hands began to glow as the webbing split, shooting away in the directions of all the avengers quickly setting them into motion. You concentrated on the thrusters of iron mans and directed them in the other direction sending them in the opposite direct as he yelled something probably unpleasant towards you.

You ducked under an arm and held the red headed woman to the ceiling as she struggled against your force. As you were scanning for an exit point something sticky flew against your shoulder pushing your entire body back. In shock your hold on the multiple avengers faltered but you quickly put it back on full force causing multiple grunts to echo the hallway.

The webbing removed itself from your shoulder and shot towards Spiderman but he managed to jump out of the firing line.

“what’s your deal?” his voice sounded frustrated, becoming annoyed as to how little hits he would get on you. Your lip twitched slightly in a smirk but quickly disappeared and you decided to finally end the child’s play by sending him to sleep. Just as you lifted your hand towards the suit clad hero, you felt something prick the back of your neck, lifting your hand to feel a dart.

You whipped your body around seeing Tony Stark stood there pointing a sedation gun at you, his suit now open but still held against the wall a few feet behind you. Spiderman was too distracting that you didn’t feel his movement behind you and now It as cost you. Your body began to droop and you let out a strangled but quiet “no” as you feared what was yet to come. Before you felt the impact of your body on the floor a chest hit your back holding you semi upright and Handcuffs were around your wrists. Your eyes were too heavy to open but in the last moments of consciousness you could hear the same young voice of Spiderman “woa, I’ve got ya, you’re safe”.

I sat alone, in bed till the morning 

I'm crying, "They're coming for me"

And I tried to hold these secrets inside me

My mind's like a deadly disease

Your body jolted awake, sweat beading down your forehead as you scanned the room. It was cleaner than your Hydra holding cell. The walls were all white, padded and from your drowsiness and the sting at the back of your head you assumed the walls held a dampener for your power. The door was the same material, positioned opposite your bed and it had a screen placed in the centre of it which you didn’t understand the purpose of. Although being a prisoner of the avengers held slightly higher luxuries the fear and anxiety you felt clouded your mind.

As you slowly investigated the cabinets below the sink and the draws in the bed side table, which were all “baby proofed” so you wouldn’t harm yourself, you saw the screen on the door flicker stating the time and date. It was a whole 48 hours since you’d been compromised. The sting at the back of your skull turned into a throbbing, spreading across your entire body as a paralysing fear became you. HYDRA would come for you, one way or another they would take you back either terminating you for being a loose end or in worse case take you back as their play toy and punish you. Not only punish you but punish them.

Your mind was screaming, yelling and scratching at the walls for you to get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.

Even with the power dampening components within the walls of your holding cell the furniture within the room started to quake as you buried your head between your knees. A silent terror consumed you, blocking all your senses so you didn’t hear the alarm sounding inside your cell. The next thing you knew arms were wrapped around your torso, a hushed male voice whispering in your ear. “hey it’s okay, don’t worry”

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The Avengers all gathered around a long table in the board room of the compound, Tony Stark stood at the head of the table with grainy photos of you taken by his suit AI. “So, she’s female, seems quite young probably around Parkers age, and visibly enhanced, aaaaand that’s all we’ve got” Tony sighed and rubbed his hand over his face as he inspected the photo of you again “HYDRA obviously need her by how well hidden they’ve kept her until now, her energy readings are off the chart”. Peter shuffled in his chair slightly, not yet being used to the formal side of the Avengers that includes meetings and de briefs. He was used to punching aliens and fearing for his life when surrounded by these guys, not drinking a hot drink from a paper cup in a chair worth probably more than his and Aunt May’s apartment.

“Mr Stark uh I uh Tony do we know what her powers even are” Peter fumbled under all the eyes in the room on him, easing slightly as Steve sent him a reassuring smile.

“Not quite, it’s some sort of telekinesis, she appears to be able to move things with her mind but it’s hard to tell how or how far her powers can even go still, we’re gonna have to wait for Banner to do some readings” Everyone in the room nodded along with Tony showing silent agreement.

Just as everyone filed out FRIDAY alerted Tony to some commotion in the holding cells, with you being the only one down there, everyone knew It was you. Tony and Peter were the first to rush down there, Tony already suited up spreading from his Arc Reactor into his full suit whilst peter pulled his Web Shooters from his pocket and managed to just about throw his mask on. Tony burst into the room first seeing the bed side table basically on the ceiling and the sink was almost shaking off the wall. His eyes scanned the room finding your body, suddenly looking small and to be frank terrified, curled up in the furthest corner with your head buried in your lap. Peter was shocked as your body quaked, the room becoming more and more unstable to longer you sat there. Peter decided to rush towards you as Tony kept a careful eye and raised his hand ready to retaliate any attacks.

He was nervous, it was probably stupid what he was about to do but Peter couldn’t help himself. He felt like he understood the fear you had of these powers you couldn’t seem to control and he just wanted to comfort you. Peter slowly slid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you gently, he felt your body stiffen by the foreign human contact but slightly lean into him, only letting a small percentage of your guard down.  

Tony was confused by Peter’s methods of deescalating the situation, you were a massive potential threat and the kid just wanted to, snuggle you? However, whatever he was doing it appeared to be working and as some other of the avengers shuffled closer to the holding cell door with their attack stances showing them to be on high alert they held the same bewildered faces as Tony at the scene in front of them.

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OKAY! so this was my first ever fic posted onto this account! feedback would be 10/10 appreciated as i crave validation and also just be nice to know if a part  2 etc is really wanted!.