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orellazalonia · 4 days ago

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What He Finally Learns

Summary: As the Avengers prepare for a mission that will bring them closer to your location than ever before, Bucky secretly clings to a video you unknowingly left behind; your quiet heartbreak revealing how unseen and unimportant you always felt.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

The compound was quiet, dim with the stillness of too many unanswered questions.

The previous mission had been a failure. At least, that’s what the report would say. No sign of the enemy. No confrontation. Just an empty base scrubbed clean, with every hard drive wiped and even the dust disturbed like someone had intentionally unsettled it. The only thing left behind was a quiet sense of absence. Something had once lived there. Not anymore.

Bucky stayed behind after the others finished the debrief. Something didn’t sit right. It wasn’t tactical, it was instinctual. Like walking through a ghost’s memory.

So he went to your old desk, the room he stepped in was small. Office-like. Not messy, but functional. Two mugs were still on the shelf with one having lipstick faded on the rim that you didn’t bother bringing. He also recognized a sweater folded neatly over the chair’s back, the same one he’d seen you wear sometimes with your sleeves always tugged past your knuckles.

He moved slowly and carefully like he didn’t want to disturb whatever fragile pieces remained.

There was a small tablet hidden away in the desk, screen faintly scratched. You probably forgot about it. It was locked, but it didn’t take him long, he had skills for this. Accessing encrypted drives used to be a job. Now it was just muscle memory.

It wasn’t a mission file. It was a video. No timestamp. No label. Just… your name in the corner. And the faint hum of low light.

Bucky hesitated but hit play.

You were seated in frame. Slightly off-center, like you hadn’t meant to record anything formal. Your hair was tied back and your eyes were tired. No makeup, no pretense. Just you. You didn’t speak at first. Just looked somewhere off-camera, blinking slowly, like trying to hold yourself still enough to not feel something.

And then you started to talk.

��I think there’s something broken in me that just wants to be useful. Like… if I’m helpful enough, I’ll matter. Like maybe I’ll take up enough space where someone would finally notice.”

You smiled, but it wasn’t a happy one. Just a tug of the lips, wry and sad..

“I don’t know why I’m doing this. I heard it helps to journal. But I used to think that if I worked hard enough, stayed out of the way, then someone might see me. Not as a teammate or even as a friend. Just… see me. Recognize that I was there.”

Bucky’s hands clenched slowly at his sides.

“But I guess people don’t notice the lights that stay on, only the ones that flicker. And I just so happened to be always steady, always silent. The background to their brilliance.”

There was a pause. You rubbed hands together nervously, looking down.

“Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just stopped showing up. If anyone would ask or if they’d just assume I transferred. Or died, quietly, in the middle of some file update.”

The silence afterward was brutal. He could hear your breathing; shallow, steady, and controlled.

“I don’t blame them. Not really. I just… wish I had been someone worth remembering.”

The video cut out. No goodbye. No signature. Just that last, unbearable sentence echoing like a gunshot.

Bucky sat in the silence it left behind. Not moving. Not breathing. Just staring at the still frame frozen on the screen. Your face. Your words. Your pain.

He hadn’t seen you, not really. Not when you were around. Not when you were quietly doing your job, never needing thanks. Never asking for notice.

But now? Now, your absence was louder than most people’s presence. And he hated that he only realized it after you were gone.

After another failed search for you, the ride back to the compound was filled with static silence.

Bucky didn’t speak. Didn’t hand over the tablet. Didn’t mention the video. But he kept it tucked in the inner lining of his gear, close to him like some part of him thought the words might bleed into his bones if he kept them near long enough.

No one asked what he found before. Maybe they assumed there was nothing. Or maybe they could read the way his shoulders held the weight of something they weren’t ready to carry.

Steve debriefed quietly with Natasha and Sam. There was no victory to celebrate, only confirmation: the enemy was ahead of them. Smarter. Faster. One step further every time.

The woman, Bucky’s someone, floated in and out of the war room with the same serene detachment she always had. She brought them tea. Lightly teased Sam when he scowled at another dead lead. She leaned a hand on Bucky’s shoulder as she passed, offering him a soft, wordless smile.

He didn’t return it. Not this time. He didn’t shrug her off, either, just let her touch pass like water, something that could no longer reach him fully.

Her words echoed faintly in his head, like smoke: “She didn’t really fit in here anyways, did she? Kind of kept to herself. I always assumed she’d move on.”

And then yours, not long after:

“I used to think that if I worked hard enough, someone might see me…”

The contrast burned.

The next mission was set with alarming speed. A new location. Another “hidden” base identified by Bruce, picked up in the tail of an encrypted ping. Something you might’ve caught weeks ago, if you were still with them. If they’d been paying attention.

Steve moved with purpose, but his eyes were more tired than before. Natasha reviewed formations, sharp and professional, but quieter than usual. Sam asked about escape routes twice as if he didn’t trust any of this to go clean.

And Bucky, he checked his weapons. Reviewed the maps. Ran recon. But in the silence between, he replayed the video. Not for pain. Not for guilt.

But because it was real. The only honest thing he had left about you.

They hadn’t found any new footage of you. No confirmed sightings. No sound bites, no intercepted comms. Just dead ends and wiped drives and the echo of your absence in places you used to sit.

You were out there. Alive, changed, and maybe not on their side anymore. But never just a ghost.

He closed the tablet and tucked it back inside his vest.

And when Steve said, “We move at dawn,” Bucky only nodded once.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t tell anyone what he saw. Not yet. Because something in him whispered, worried that if they saw that recording too soon, they’d see you as a weakness.

And for the first time in months, Bucky wasn’t sure what side of the line he stood on. Not when it came to you.

The hours before a mission were always the quietest.

The hangar buzzed low with the whir of prep of gear checks, last-minute uploads, suits being sealed and weapons aligned. Natasha stood by the monitors, her gaze cold and sharp. Sam reviewed the aerial scans Bruce had fine-tuned just an hour before. Steve kept pacing near the Quinjet, arms folded, and eyes flicking to each of them like he could hold them together by willpower alone.

Bucky kept his distance like usual. He strapped his knives into place. Loaded his sidearm with meticulous focus. Checked his earpiece, then checked it again. He hadn't spoken more than a handful of words all morning. No one asked why.

No one noticed how he hadn’t been sleeping. How he double-checked the route three times last night, long after the others went to bed. How his fingers lingered over the inside pocket of his jacket, where the tablet still rested, untouched by anyone but him.

The girl who had once been his comfort entered in mid-morning with her usual warm smile and a thermal mug of coffee for Steve. She handed it off with a soft murmur, her other hand brushing Bucky’s arm in passing.

“You don’t have to carry everything, you know,” She said gently, a faint tease in her voice. “You’ve got people.”

He didn’t look at her. Didn’t answer. And for the first time… she noticed. There was a flicker of pause in her face. The briefest narrowing of her eyes. Then her smile returned, unfazed.

“Well,” She said lightly, glancing over at Steve. “If you all need anything before you go, just let me know. I’ll be around.”

Steve gave her a polite nod. Sam murmured a distracted thanks. She left the hangar as quietly as she came in. But Bucky watched her go, something unreadable in his stare.

He didn’t trust her. Not anymore. He didn’t know if he ever truly had or if she’d simply fit into the gaps where life had left him hollow. She had been sweet. Soothing. Gentle in the way soft lies often were.

But you had never tried to be that. You had simply been honest. Quiet, yes. Awkward, maybe. But never fake. But he had never tried to acknowledge any of that till now. And now the only traces of you he had were clipped recordings buried in a stolen file and the phantom silence of the seat you used to occupy across mission tables. The longer they chased shadows, the more he feared it: that they had lost you to the wrong side and that they had pushed you there themselves.

“Five minutes,” Steve called out, snapping everyone back to focus.

Bucky stood, weapons in place, and jaw tight.

Whatever this mission held, whatever base they were headed for next, he had a feeling it wasn’t just about cutting off a head of the organization anymore. There were pieces still missing. Threads pulled tight around something deeper. And though no one said it aloud…

They all felt it. You were at the center of it. Maybe you weren’t the enemy, but you weren’t one of them anymore either. And Bucky didn’t know which outcome he feared more.

The alarm started low. Just a pulsing tone beneath the hum of overhead lights, like the building had a heartbeat and it had suddenly quickened.

You didn’t look up at first.

You were seated at the edge of a long metal table, eyes scanning one of Maren’s latest handoffs of network logs, patterns, and reconnaissance models that you were quietly, and more skillfully than anyone else here, picking apart. Another screen flickered with footage. Not of the Avengers this time, but of a smaller SHIELD outpost. One the organization had eyes on.

A quiet shift of balance. A new target. The second tone came louder. And this time, red light blinked across the top corners of the room.

You turned in your chair just as Maren came in through the steel door, less casual than usual. There was tension in her shoulders, but she hid it beneath a small smirk.

“Well,” Well said lightly, “Guess we’re having fire drills now.”

You stood slowly. “What is it.”

She waved a hand toward the glass pane. Down the corridor, you could see a few others moving quickly. Some with urgency, but not panic.

“Surveillance sweep caught something weird,” She said. “Signal bounce matched one of your old frequency ranges.”

You blinked. “The Avengers?”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Intel says it’s likely. But it could also be someone pretending to be them. Either way, leadership wants to shift locations again. They don’t want to risk exposure, not now.”

You glanced toward the window again. The air suddenly felt thinner and colder, like the walls were remembering how to hold you again.

Maren stepped closer.

“They’ll want you in the second caravan,” She said. “It’s less attention that way until we’re sure we’re not compromised.”

You didn’t respond at first. Because something sat twisted in your stomach. Not fear, exactly, not even guilt. Just… the awareness that this place you had started to grow into, the first place where your mind had felt seen, was still a fortress.

Still temporary. Still ready to disappear the second anything real drew near.

You looked at Maren.

Her smile softened, more careful this time. “You’ll be alright. We’ve got you.”

But as you followed her out of the room, walking past people who now nodded when you passed, who sought your opinion, who used your analyses like gospel, you had that strange feeling again.

You didn’t want to run. Not this time. Because if it was them. If they were coming now, after all this time, after leaving you behind, after forgetting you; you wanted to see who they were now. If they were just as hollow as they made you feel.

And if they had finally come… to save you. Or just to stop you.

The hallway continued to pulse with red light and clipped orders.

Boots on concrete. Quiet urgency. Controlled withdrawal. People packed crates with precision, hands practiced in the rhythm of disappearing. You walked among them unnoticed but not out of disregard, but because you weren’t expected to panic. You were useful and trusted. The kind of asset who got escorted second not because they didn’t care, but because they assumed you’d already figured a backup plan if things went sideways.

And you always did.

You reached the loading bay just as the first caravan started to move. There were trucks. Two armored vans. A trail vehicle. All headed for an off-grid location you’d helped locate last month, buried beneath so many encryption layers it would take even Stark months to trace it.

Maren was by the gate, tablet in hand, and brows furrowed in concentration.

She glanced up when she saw you. “Van two in the back left. There’s a seat with your name on it.”

You moved to step past her then paused.

“Are you coming?”

She gave a small smile. “Not yet. Last-minute patchwork. They want eyes on the rear systems until we’re sure it’s not just a scare.”

You hesitated enough for her to notice.

“We’ll see each other again,” She reassured softly. “Don’t look like that.”

You didn’t say anything. Just nodded once, then stepped into the van’s shadows and sank into the corner seat. The door shut behind you. You kept your eyes on the window, watching the lights flicker and twist as the base began to purge data in real time. Mainframes going dark, terminals blacking out one by one. The signal was clear:

Whoever was coming was already too close.

Outside, not far beyond the mountain pass, the Quinjet cut low through clouds.

Steve’s voice was steady over comms. “Final sweep, no obvious heat signatures. We keep it tight. If they’re there, they know we’re coming.”

“They’re there,” Natasha said. Her tone wasn’t a guess, it was certainty.

“Or they were,” Sam muttered, eyes flicking over the monitors.

From the back, Bucky checked his gear one last time. He hadn’t spoken much since departure. Just silent and focused, eyes darker than usual. He hadn’t said your name, but it sat heavy behind every breath.

Natasha glanced over from the bench across. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered. Then, more quietly: “I just want answers.”

The Quinjet slowed.

“Approaching target zone,” FRIDAY announced. “There are signs of recent movement. Base is no longer cold.”

Steve stood and signaled them. “We move on foot and we go fast. Don’t break formation.”

They touched down five minutes later.

The moment Bucky’s boots hit the ground, he felt it.

Not heat. Not threat. But… presence.

Like you were still here. Like this place remembered you.

Steve gave the order. They breached the perimeter fast through reinforced side access. The air inside was stale, but not undisturbed. Computers still hummed. Floors were clean. Not a drop of dust. Not like last time.

“They left in a hurry,” Natasha observed, crouching beside a freshly yanked power cable.

“Then they knew we were coming,” Sam replied grimly.

Bucky’s eyes tracked along the corridor. Doors left half-open. Screens still flickering out final traces of wiped data. A mug. A file left behind. He stepped toward it then stopped.

On the desk was a clipboard. Just one. The name at the top? Yours.

He exhaled slowly.

“You were here,” He whispered.

Not just involved. Present. Maybe only minutes ago. Too close. Too late.

Steve pressed his fingers to his comm. “Everyone sweep east, this wasn’t abandoned. They’re still moving.”

“They’re not just moving,” Sam called from the upper ledge. “They’re evacuating. I’ve got heat signatures heading into the lower exit tunnels, northbound. At least two armored vehicles pulling out now.”

Bucky was already moving. “Can we cut them off?”

“Negative,” FRIDAY replied sharply in his earpiece. “They’re on an off-road route and cloaked. They’ll be buried by terrain in sixty seconds unless you launch a drone now.”

��I’ve got it,” Natasha said, already deploying the small drone. It zipped through the air like a hornet. On the screen, the visuals sharpened as it locked onto the second vehicle.

That was when they saw you, barely a frame.

Just the curve of your shoulder, the side of your face half-obscured by the angle of the armored window. You weren’t panicked. You weren’t restrained. You were seated. Eyes down, calm, and still so unmistakably you.

Bucky leaned closer to the screen, throat tightening. “That’s her.”

Steve cursed under his breath. “They moved faster than expected.”

“Which means they’ve done this before,” Natasha muttered.

“They’re organized. Too organized,” Sam added. “And she… she didn’t look like a hostage.”

Bucky didn’t answer. Because that still frame was seared into him. Not just because it was you. But because of how different you looked from the girl he remembered in the compound.

Not hurt. Not scared. Just… far away.

Meanwhile, you felt it before you saw it. A hum in your bones, sharp like pressure. Something familiar. Familiar in a way that made your pulse catch without rising.

You didn’t look out the window, but you knew. They were close.

You kept your hands folded in your lap, steady, while the others in the van double-checked the rear systems and confirmed their routes.

Maren’s voice came over the comm, calm and professional. “Exit route confirmed. Units dispersed. No direct pursuit.”

You could hear the faint smile in her voice.

“They missed us.”

You didn’t reply. Not because you were relieved. But because the truth hit you harder than you expected: They came and You were right. But it didn’t change anything.

You were still in a moving van, heading deeper into the folds of a world they didn’t understand. And they were behind you, too late, standing in the echo of where you used to be.

Part of you wondered if any of them had seen you. If they recognized the back of your head through bulletproof glass. If Bucky did.

You didn’t look back to check. You just sat with the heavy truth nestled in your chest like something warm and rotten at the same time:

They came, but it didn’t matter anymore.

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#The One You Don’t See #chapter 7 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #marvel x reader

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tiny-space-platypus · 10 months ago

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Never really for back in

Part 4 why does family always hurt..?

Everything had been fine, everyone had been fine, then Danny had to go and fuck all that up. Stupid ghost core! Stupid half a status! Stupid need for human teethers.. stupid want for a real family.. ˢᵗᵘᵖᶦ�� ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ˡᶦᶠᵉ ʰᶦˢ ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉⁿ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ...

Danny screamed into his pillow, then he wailed into it causing the house to shake a little. He was the beloved king of the Infinite Realms, he had Vlad, and Jazz, and Tucker, and Sam, and Val, and Elle. Even if the only one to stay close to him was Vlad they were all still there for him. They were his family. He wasn't alone no matter how much his core screamed to go back and try to be with the brother he had failed to protect. The golden brother that lived while the dirty one died. Even his real father didn't seem to want him but still at least he wasn't trying to destroy him molecule by molecule..

At least he wasn't creating weapons to destroy him and his kind. He shouldn't have been hopeful, why would he want another son? A son he never knew, another dead son. A failure. Only the realms liked Danny, only the realms and those affected by it cared for him.. And that's all he needed. He didn't need the brother he used to tell stories to, the brother he helped teach to properly care for weapons. The brother who looked so scared whenever he did something wrong, the brother he took the blame and punishment for. The brother grandfather doted on, the brother that killed him. He didn't need a brother. He didn't need a mother. He didn't need a father. Danny had what he needed.

Danny would meet up with Sam and Tucker, talk with Jazz, talk with Elle. All of those over interaction helped with the ache in his core till they left, till the call ended. Then the aching was back. So much worse than before. Cujo helped though, Cujo made it so much better. So did battling other ghosts in the realms, fights were good for ghosts after all.

Everything was fine, Danny was fine, his brother was fine, his brother's family was fine, till it wasn't. Till Danny's world came crashing down overtop of him. Suddenly the house was being raided by special forces and the bats and Wonder Woman and other Justice League members Danny barely knew of. Suddenly he was ripped out of bed and forced to kneel next to Vlad who looked pissed. Suddenly there were agents taking Danny's blueprints and projects and Destroying Vlad's lab. Suddenly being treated like criminals. Again.

That was the joke wasn't it? Danny Phantom needed family, needed connection, needed living world teethers to stay living but Danyal didn't deserve it did he? Danyal should just fade away and never return, why give a damn about the living realm when it never did so much for him? Why care when they want him dead? When they want those he sees as his real family dead.

A collar was placed around both him and vlad's neck, meta collars unfortunately for them, meta collars only work on the living. Danny motioned for Vlad to go as he let his core project his rage to his godfather. As soon as no one was looking Vlad disappeared going back through the portal before they figured out how to turn it off. Leaving his collar and restraints behind.

Why did Danyal stay? Why didn't he leave with his Godfather and just return when it was safe again? That's because Danyal Masters Al Gul was tired of running. He was going to see his brother and his god awful family one last time then never again. He's done letting people hurt him.

———————

It took longer than any of the bats wanted to admit to find out the deal behind the Masters residents. 6 weeks to be exact, but the firewall around anything Masters was hard to crack through and then when they did finally get through, they had to breakthrough another firewall encrypting a town called Amity park. Every time they'd get through one the other would lock up again, whoever was behind it did not want them finding anything but the Bats and Birds are nothing if not determined. What encouraged them even more was that the demon brat wasn't as bratty as usual, still out of it from whatever encounter that was. They did however get through and oh boy was there plenty to work with. Silent genocide of entities from another realm, crazed scientists poking holes through dimensions, a god damn nuke dropped through the portal, a child vigilante, and Vlad attacking said child vigilante. With a clone of said vigilante, bingo, that must have been why Dams was so freaked out. Evil clones were never fun. Tim would know.

First they stormed the Fenton household, dismantling and taking any and all weapons and equipment. The Fenton's at first tried to fight them but they weren't skilled enough to take down multiple bats and birds.

With the lasso of truth (thank you Wonder Woman) the Fenton's gushed everything about ghosts and how they were evil and how their weapons worked and how because of it their son had left to go live with his godfather. Danny was a lovable kid to them, their lovable kid same with their amazing daughter Jasmine who was now studying away at Harvard. They also mentioned working with an organization called the Ghost Investigation Ward, which was supposedly government. They were the ones with the nuke. The Fentons would be taken into custody for now.

Then was the Masters resident. That was a bit harder but as soon as they got through with plenty of agents that had helped with Luther's insanity of inventions. The Masters lab was more put together, cloning tanks, another portal with safety lines, medical tables weapons put away safely instead of in a god damn toy chest. The Vlad Master was much less. Corporative till Danny was brought out still tired and in his pj's. The Man calmed down when he knew the boy was ok. Though he still grumbled about having their heads for this and how this was unjust. Just as they thought things were simmering down Vlad disappeared leaving the boy behind as the portal closed. The kid didn't even seem worried about it. He also wasn't worried when the lasso was tied around him. Wonder Woman asked as she held the lasso causing it to glow as usual. "Where did Vlad Masters go?"

—————————

"Where you won't find him" Danny smirked, living devices don't work as well against the dead though the lasso is special. It definitely works more effectively meaning Danny still had to answer but being from the realms he can be tricky with his answers. "And where is that?" One of the cursed bats asked as they made their way over. Danny would just smile at them too wide, fangs showing. "Somewhere you can't go right now but will eventually."

"What does Vlad Masters want?" Batman would Huff at Danny. His voice as Gravelly as ever. "Same as any business man, money, power, for you to get out of his house" Danny then looked around the Bats and birds and noticed a lack of his twin brother. "Aw where's the little robin? Too scared to come meet me himself? Had to send the misfit family to deal with his problems?" Danny spoke. With a voice filled with malice. How dare his brother not even come when they take him. How dare he think so little of him.

The bats and birds were a protective bunch, Danny had learnt that much. Surrounding him and glaring like they could intimidate him. He knew they wouldn't kill him without getting answers first and human punches didn't hurt as bad as ghost ones. Like watching small dogs barking at a big one. It was cute to think they could do anything to the Ghost King on their own.

Nightwing would speak up this time scowling, how dare he talk about his brother like that. How dare he act better than his brother, how dare he act like he knew his brother. "You know nothing about Rob-" Danny interrupted and sneered "Shut up Grayson. I know more about Damian than any of you know" This got everyone's attention, how did he know that? The silence caused the boy to laugh. "Oh are we done with the pleasantries now? Well then let's get the name game out of the way shall we, you know move the plot along quickly so I can see the young assassin. Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, and Bruce Wayne."

A stand silent surrounded the heroes before Danny was suddenly lifted up by Batman who held his pajama shirt tightly in an attempt to intimidate the boy. He practically growled at Danny. "How do you know that? What is your relationship with my son?"

Danny laughed again, a cold bitter laugh "You really don't recognize me at all, do you?" Batman didn't respond to that as he just glared at the boy. "I'm your son you ancients forsaken fruit loop. I know you don't believe me, even though I wish you did but you have enough of my room to figure it out for yourself." Then like he was never there Danny disappeared leaving the collar, the cuffs, and the lasso behind as he turned invisible and intangible. He didn't stick around to see their reactions.

Next he had to see Damian, he was done looking for a family. They always hurt him anyways. Soon he'll be up in the stars, the only place he was ever safe. Maybe he could let his protection side of his core go a little and only focus on space. He needed space more than anything right now..

———————

Danny's core cried out again as another crack formed from the last teether now being forced away. It splintered even more when he realized his brother didn't even come. Then again when he realized that even when he was so close to his father he couldn't recognize him.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dcu #batman #the robins #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #demon twins au #never really fit back in #space core danny #protection core danny #the bats fucked upppppp

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with-my-calamitous-love · 1 year ago

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THE SIGN ON YOUR HEART SAID ITS STILL RESERVED FOR ME

edward elric x f! reader

you remind edward how beautiful you think he is.

smut (ish), 18+, body worship, soft, lots of cuddling, mentions of insecurity and (edward’s) trauma, edward cries during sex lol

inspired by the alchemy

edward has a complicated relationship with love.

he knows he has people he loves, people he holds dear to him. he knows that there are people in his life he'd sacrifice an arm and a leg for, people he'd risk everything to feel their warmth. not all sacrifices came to fruition. but he knew he'd do it.

most around him underestimate the guilt he carries upon his shoulders. the guilt of failure, the guilt of knowing the truth. edward was wracked with the burden of knowledge- the knowledge that he might not be able to reverse his mistakes. its accepting love from others that edward struggles with the most.

edward feels his mothers love far in-between. he feels it when he shovels a warm, nostalgic bowl of stew into his mouth, wondering what exactly made milk of all ingredients taste so good. he feels it when he ties his golden locks into a woven braid, trying to replicate the way his mother's fingers would knit her own auburn locks. she made fixing her hair look like the northern lights. he felt the sensation of love, but more strongly, a burning firey passion as he remembers the embers that erupted from his childhood home. he remembers the orange glint against his brother's armor as he burns down his home and his past, swearing only to return when he is whole once again. edward feels the remnants of her love blow past him as he stares at the rolling green hills of resembool from the train window, heading towards the sunlight. he was never the religious type, but he sometimes thought that his mother was in the sun now, shining down on him and al.

edward feels guilt-laced love from his younger brother, alphonse. he still finds himself waking up in a cold sweat, hearing his younger self plead with the universe to give him his brother back. he'd sacrifice his arm, his soul, he'd give it free if it meant al’s life- and he did. edward tightens his fist as he remembers the day, not a shadow of a doubt in his mind that he'd sacrifice his arm over and over and over again to save his brothers soul. but the same fists that once burned with determination fall apart with grievance, as edward eyes shake with ghostly tears. is it his fault that al is trapped in a suit of armor? is his fault al lost his body? they should have taken me. he thinks. it would be sick for the truth universe to sacrifice his whole body, but taking away his dear younger brother was much more twisted. his eyes stare with promise at alphonse as he rests, promising his soul that he will restore what has been lost. his love for his brother ran deeper than the sea. edward's desire for his limbs back is placed on the backburner, putting alphonse back together is what allows edward to rest with a smile on his face.

edward isn't always sure how to feel your love.

he himself, feels incomplete. but with you, he feels liquid sun being poured into the crevices of the heart he bared to you and only you. beyond just his automail limbs, edward's body was scarred in and out. painful echoes of his past embedded into his skin. stories of loss, determination, and a want to feel complete lingers in his ribs as you kiss his skin, treating him like a delicate masterpiece. he isn't much sure of how to feel, or why he feels good. he was a man of science, a prodigy of alchemy, but your love was a encryption he could not decipher.

he always seems writhe when you touch him, your fingers running across his toned abdomen making him feel heaven-struck. he sighs your name, gold locks lazily thrown over his shoulders as his head dips into the nape of your neck. his metal arm pulls you closer to him, the cool metal contrasting with the searing warmth of your arousal. edward allows his lips to press against your collarbone, nipping at your skin reminding you of his presence. he may not have always accepted your love, but he sure as hell was going to make you feel his. all of it.

you rip a deep groan from his chest as your hands as you straddle his waist, your delicate fingers caressing where the metal met his scarred chest. "edward." your siren voice tears through the gasps and soft moans that filled his bedroom. "relax. its just me."

his golden eyes flicker up at yours, pulling his lips away from your skin. he made sure to leave loving-red marks right across your heart, as if he were writing his name in a special code reserved for you. his eyes are hazy and love-drunk, looking up at you like you're the only thing in this universe that matters. his arms, human and metal, strong and toned, hold you to his waist as if you would be ripped away from him at any moment.

"s-sorry." he heaves, his voice was deep and honeyed, eyes not breaking contact with your bare body for even a second. his voice was apologetic, but he couldn't hide the lust and hunger that formed in his chest and seeped out through his eyes. well, its not like he tried to hide it.

your hand moves up to caress his jawline, pressing your lips to his temple. "give in. let me love you." your voice is gentle, but you mean it as a desperate plea. loving edward was not an option; loving edward was an obligation. loving edward was as essential as the veins that pumped blood through your body. you wouldn't stop loving him, even if you wanted to.

edward's eyes screw shut. "only if you let me love you too."

your lips curve into a smile, and then into an O shape as edward presses his mouth to your chest, kissing your breasts with soft, fervent messages of love. his kisses sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, only growing more intense as he moves his arm up to cup your breast. he massages the tender flesh, treating you as if you were sacred. each one of his touches, his kisses, and his grasps was his way of giving his soul over to you. right now, edward felt as though it always belonged to you.

his golden eyes watch longingly as you throw your head back, taking the opportunity to kiss your neck. he gladly sinks his teeth in, as if leaving the seal of his love on your skin. edward loved you like it was breathing for him. he hoped that people would see your effervescent beauty, but more importantly the lovebites left on you, and know that edward elric was the one that marked them there. they spelled out 'mine' in a way only edward could decipher it.

your body is buzzing and hot with arousal. you feel the warm feeling start at your chest, slowly moving down your stomach and then to your core. edward hums satisfied against your skin, as if able to feel exactly what you feel right now. the pink tinge on his face suggests a linger of embarrassment. he had never showed this much of himself to anyone. it were as if kissing you and worshipping you distracted himself from his pains, allowing himself to esca[e in the shelter of your touch.

you run your fingers through his golden locks, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as his lips press themself over and over again to your chest. he wants to feel you, all of you, and just you. if his attention wasn't tied to some old book on alchemy, then his mind riddled itself with trauma. his brain spent hours writing equations, deciphering codes, tying all his pains, regrets and wrongdoings into a messy puzzle of hurt. his mind was a labyrinth, a maze that not even he could escape from. you were his refuge, you were his safe place. he worries he's killing the mood by being so nervous, not able to look up at you as he's kissing your chest.

but as you sit atop his lap, kissing his head and whispering a melody of "i love you" and "you're doing so good" you tell him that its okay. that its okay to feel good, that its okay to trust, that its okay to be loved.

you place your hands on his chin and pull his head to face you. you take him in, all of him- his hazy, sunset eyes and his blonde hair messily thrown over his muscular shoulders like a golden waterfall. every contour of his muscles scream at you to love him stronger, the way the scars paint stories over his heart. there was no space left between you two. your skin on his, two souls colliding with one another.

"how do you feel?" your voice is just barely above a whisper, looking deep into his eyes with yours. he cant help but let his eyes wander down, watching the way you fit so perfectly on top of him. the way your breasts are covered in marks, his marks, the way your thighs spread to straddle him, he can feel your wetness on him, the heat of your love radiating just for him to bask in. its almost too much.

"good." edward breathes out, words failing him at this moment. but its enough for you. he is enough for you.

your hands make their way down to his shaft, stroking the length in your hands. edward bites his lip, head moving back as your hands work diligently to pleasure him. you kiss just below his ear, reminding him of your presence. "its okay." you coo.

he takes that as permission, allowing soft moans and grunts to escape his mouth. his voice is raspy yet heavenly, the vulnerability and trust manifesting as pleasure coursing through his veins. he sighs, never feeling this much pleasure in his entire life. slowly, you lower yourself onto his cock, sucking in a deep breath as you feel yourself stretch around him.

"fuck." edward hisses, feeling your warm, tight walls around his length. his grip around your waist tightens, as if still wishing to pull you in closer. you hands travel up to his shoulder blades, digging your nails into the his soft skin while you adjust to his size. the warmth is intoxicating for him, feeling tears bless his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure. he's so embarrassed, feeling a stray tear escape down his cheek. he doesn't think he deserves it. to feel this good, for his incomplete and ravaged body to be granted this much pleasure. for an angel to touch him after the taboos he's committed. edward knows equivalent exchange, and he knows that none of this is good is equivalent to all his wrongdoings.

but that's what love does sometimes, he concludes as you kiss the tear away from his cheek. you don't say a word, but rather you silently tell edward that its okay. fuck, he was starting to love being loved.

the tears cease to stop as you continue to grind on his length, the pleasure overtaking the both of you. your mind is blissfully blank, letting your body speak love to the crevice's of edward's soul. he watched as the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, like the tide of the ocean washing away any painful memories written in the sand. the bed was unmade, the sheets were crinkled, the clocks ticked s time that you two should have been sleeping, but none of it mattered now. the greatest moment of intimacy you and edward ever shared was not when he removed his clothes to bare skin. it was when he allowed you to see him at his lowest moment, letting you witnessed the most unloved parts of his body and his soul. as he slowly unraveled in front of you, feeling his orgasm slowly approach, he worried his imperfections may scare you off.

but you kiss him, kiss his lips so perfectly, you remind him that you'll love him anyway. you'll love him not in despite of his imperfections, but because of his imperfections. it was who he was- edward elric was everything you wanted love to be. and more.

edward tears a groan from his chest as he feels your wet walls clench around him tighter than ever before, unable to hold back his thick release. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you closer as if to hide. he wonders if it always felt that good.

"s-sorry. i did it to early, shit i-" he rambles, and you can't help but giggle. it was rare when you could witness him so vulnerable. you shush him, pecking his lips and reminding him that its okay.

"you were perfect, ed." you reassure him, your voice cutting through all his worries and doubts. thats all the permission he needs to pull you down onto the bed with him, laying you down on top of him. you know he doesn't like to sleep on his side because of the weight of his arm. he also didn't to be away from your warmth, not even for a moment. he reaches over, pulling the crinkled sheets over both your bodies. a warm hum escapes from his lips, his entire body feeling as blissfully sweet as honey.

"how do you feel?" he checked in with you, his hand travelling up to cup your chin. he studied you, a part of him still being unable to accept the fact that you're real.

"loved." you hum. edward's kissed lips curve into a soft smile at your words.

"good. i want you to feel my love. always." he reminds you as he kisses your temple. even if edward didn't always accept love from others, he'd be damned if he didn't give every ounce of his love to you.

"how do you feel?" you redirect, checking on him. his blonde eyes stare to the ceiling, the gear s in his brain pondering for a moment before pinpointing the right word.

"complete." he concludes, planting one last kiss to your head before letting the two of you drift off into sleep. edward felt complete with you.

608 notes · View notes

moonlitstoriess · 5 months ago

Text

The Cost of Deception- Azriel x fem!reader (3/3)

Summary: After years of silence, Y/N and Azriel unknowingly track the same target, only to find themselves face-to-face once more. Betrayal runs deep, and neither is willing to forgive, but the mission must come first—if they don’t destroy each other first.

See masterlist

Part 2

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI (I will mention when it starts and ends), angst, mentions of trauma, fighting, injuries, mentions of SA

A/N: Well guys, this is the finale! I truly hope you enjoyed reading this mini series as much as I enjoyed writing it for you my little angst lovers😘

Five years ago. The first time Azriel realized something was wrong, it had been too late.

Y/N had sent him the documents—a set of encrypted files from the Spring Court that she had painstakingly secured. He could still hear her voice in his mind, low but brimming with excitement.

"Az, I got it. All of it. This will change everything."

The pride in her voice had been unmistakable, her trust in him unwavering. She had worked tirelessly to secure that intel, putting herself in harm’s way to serve the Night Court. How could he not have trusted her completely? She was one of his best operatives, her sharp mind and steady hand unmatched in the chaos of espionage.

But when the information led them straight into a trap, resulting in the deaths of ten of their spies, everything had crumbled.

The ambush had been brutal, a coordinated strike that targeted their most vulnerable operatives. Three were killed on the spot. The others, hunted down in the following days, were slaughtered before they could escape. The loss was devastating, not just in lives but in the trust that bound their intricate network together.

When Rhysand summoned him, Azriel had gone with a heavy heart, knowing there would be questions he wasn’t yet ready to answer.

Rhysand’s violet eyes, usually so calm and understanding, were hard and cold. “Explain this, Azriel. How did this happen?”

Azriel had no answers. He had only fragments of a puzzle he hadn’t yet pieced together.

For days afterward, he barely slept. He pored over the documents Y/N had sent him, searching for inconsistencies, for anything that could explain how the information she’d provided had been so catastrophically wrong. He sent his own spies into Spring Court territory to investigate, desperate to uncover the truth.

It was one of his scouts who returned with the key.

“Someone fed her false information,” the scout explained, laying out the details. “A contact in the Spring Court deliberately set her up. They knew she’d take the bait. They knew exactly what to feed her.”

Azriel’s hands tightened into fists as he stared down at the report. The pieces clicked into place—agonizingly, unmistakably. Y/N had been played. She had been set up by someone who knew her movements, someone who had deliberately sought to discredit her.

But by the time Azriel uncovered the truth, it was too late. The network already knew of the failure. Y/N’s name had been whispered in the shadows, accusations of betrayal spreading like wildfire. The loss of their spies was fresh in everyone’s mind, their trust shattered.

Ten lives lost.

The number weighed heavily on Azriel’s soul. He could still see the faces of the operatives they’d lost, their smiles and laughter now memories that would haunt him forever.

He had tried to explain the situation to Rhysand, to tell him what he had uncovered. But Rhys’s expression had been grim, his voice unyielding.

“It’s not about what she intended,” Rhys said. “It’s about what this looks like. If we don’t act decisively, the entire network will fall apart. Our enemies will exploit this weakness.”

Azriel wanted to argue, to fight for Y/N. But he couldn’t deny the truth of Rhys’s words. The network’s survival depended on trust, and even the smallest fracture could cause everything they’d built to crumble.

And so, with a leaden heart, Azriel made the choice.

He spread the lie that Y/N had knowingly provided false information. He destroyed her reputation, painted her as a traitor, and watched as the court turned its back on her.

Azriel woke with a start, the memory still clawing at his mind.

The forest was quiet, the faint rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds the only sounds. He sat up slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the area. The campfire had burned down to embers, casting a faint orange glow against the dark silhouettes of the surrounding trees.

And there she was.

Y/N lay on the other side of the fire, her head resting on her pack, her body curled slightly for warmth. Even in sleep, there was a tension in her posture, as though she couldn’t fully let her guard down.

Azriel’s chest ached at the sight. She looked so small, so vulnerable in the dim light, and yet he knew how strong she was. How much she had endured because of him.

Because of the lies he had told.

He had tried not to think of her after her banishment. But she had haunted him anyway. Every report from the Night Court’s spies about her whereabouts, every whisper of her struggles, had found its way to him. He couldn’t help but keep tabs on her, even when he told himself it was better to let her go.

The guilt ate away at him, day by day. He told himself it had been necessary, that he had done what was required to protect the court. But the justifications rang hollow in the dead of night when he lay awake, her name a constant refrain in his mind.

And then there were the dreams.

They started innocently enough—memories of missions they had completed together, of the way she had laughed when they argued over strategy. But they soon turned darker. He would see her standing in the rain, her eyes filled with betrayal as she asked, “Why?”

He had never answered her then. And now, he didn’t know if he ever could.

Azriel leaned back against the tree behind him, his gaze never leaving her sleeping form. The firelight cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the faint parting of her lips. She was beautiful in a way that made his heart ache, a quiet, unassuming beauty that had drawn him in from the start.

And now, after everything he had done, she was here.

His shadows curled around him, their whispers faint and indecipherable. He let them surround him, a comforting presence in the silence. But even they couldn’t soothe the turmoil within him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. He had to make things right. He had to tell her the truth, to explain why he had done what he did. Even if she never forgave him, even if she hated him for the rest of her life, he owed her that much.

He would fix this. Somehow, he would find a way to atone for his sins.

But for now, he let himself watch her for a little longer, committing every detail of her to memory—the rise and fall of her chest, the soft curve of her mouth, the strands of hair that had fallen across her face.

The past could not be undone. But perhaps, in the fragile, uncertain future, he could find redemption.

Y/N woke to the low rustle of leaves and the crackle of a small fire. The pale morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. Her body ached from the cold, uneven ground, and the memories of her restless sleep haunted her like ghosts.

She pushed herself up, glancing toward the source of the sound. There he was, Azriel, seated on a fallen log, nibbling at a piece of dried fruit with his shadows coiling lazily around him. He didn’t look at her immediately, but the minute her movement caught his eye, his gaze snapped to hers.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly, his voice as smooth as ever but tinged with something heavier. Guilt.

She didn’t respond, instead dragging herself to her feet and brushing the dirt from her tunic. The smell of breakfast—though plain and meager—made her stomach churn, not from hunger but from the knot of anxiety that had been a permanent resident there ever since she’d agreed to this mission.

Azriel shifted, his shadows curling toward her as though they could sense her discomfort. “You should eat something,” he said, holding out a piece of bread.

“I’m fine,” she said flatly.

“You’re not,” he countered, and his tone, while gentle, left no room for argument. “We’ll be moving soon. You need your strength.”

She clenched her jaw but took the bread anyway, sitting on the opposite end of the fire. They ate in silence, the tension between them a living, breathing thing that no amount of chewing could cut through.

To her surprise, it was Azriel who broke the quiet. “My shadows went far last night,” he said, his voice low. “They’ve scouted ahead. We’re close to Malrik’s place—closer than I thought. We should reach it by midday.”

She nodded but didn’t look at him, focusing instead on the bread in her hands.

Azriel continued, pulling out a map from his satchel. He unfolded it carefully, smoothing the edges on his thigh before spreading it out between them. “This is the layout the messenger gave me,” he said, his scarred fingers tracing lines and markings. “We’ll enter here, through the eastern ridge. It’s less guarded, but it’s steep, so we’ll need to move quickly. Once inside, you’ll take the northern passage—it leads directly to Malrik’s study. I’ll handle the guards and meet you there.”

He paused, glancing at her as though expecting a response, but she remained silent, her eyes fixed on the map.

When he finished his rundown, the silence returned, heavier now, pressing down on them like the weight of the forest itself. She could feel his gaze on her, the way his shadows hesitated, unsure whether to reach for her or retreat.

Finally, she sighed, dropping the last bit of bread into her lap. “Spit it out,” she said coldly.

Azriel blinked, as though surprised by her bluntness, but then his composure cracked.

“I didn’t mean—” he started, the words tumbling out of his mouth so fast she barely caught them. “I didn’t mean for it to—Y/N, I swear, I didn’t—”

“What?” she interrupted, frowning.

He tried again, but the sentences came just as rushed, just as scattered. His shadows swirled around him, reflecting his inner turmoil, and it was so unlike him—this babbling, this loss of control—that she almost didn’t recognize him.

“Azriel,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Speak normally.”

He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with something raw, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to see.

“I was the one who spread the lie,” he said finally, his voice low but clear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had known—of course she had known—but hearing it from his mouth was a different kind of pain, a dagger twisting in a wound that had never healed.

“Not this again,” she muttered, rising to her feet. “I told you, I don’t wish to speak of it.”

“Please,” he said, standing as well. “Please, Y/N. Just hear me out.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, she considered walking away, leaving him to his guilt and his shadows. But something in his voice—desperation, maybe, or the faint echo of the bond they once shared as comrades—made her stop.

“You have five minutes,” she said sharply. “Then we’re leaving.”

Azriel nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He didn’t sit back down, didn’t even look away from her as he began.

He told her everything. The ambush, the deaths, the documents he’d compared, the spies he’d sent to investigate. He told her about the trap laid by the Spring Court, about how they had used her as a pawn without her knowledge.

And he told her about Rhysand. About the conversation in the forest, about the decision they had made together. About how he had spread the lie to protect the network, to protect the court.

By the time he finished, Y/N’s hands were trembling with rage.

“You destroyed me,” she said, her voice shaking. “Do you understand that? You didn’t just ruin my reputation, Azriel. You ruined my life.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No, you don’t,” she snapped. “You don’t know what it was like. To be cast out, to be hunted by the same people I fought beside, to have nothing and no one because of you.”

Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to keep going. “You made me a traitor in their eyes. You made me a traitor in my own eyes. Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if I should just end it all? Wondering if it would hurt less than this?”

Azriel flinched, his shadows recoiling as though her words had struck them as well. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “Y/N, I’m so—”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” she spat. “Sorry doesn’t change what you did. It doesn’t bring back the years I lost, the ME I lost. If I hadn't been exiled, if I had been in such a weakened, depressed state, I would have never fallen into Malrik's trap, I would have never been raped by him!"

Azriel closed his eyes, seemingly battling the rage and inner turmoil within him before exhaling and looking at her once more. "Y/N...I- I didn't know. Please, I.....I swear if only I knew that this would happen- he will die soon enough but....I know it's not enough. It never will

He took a step toward her, his hands outstretched, but she stepped back, her anger flaring hotter.

“I hate you,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “I hate you, Azriel. And after this mission, I never want to see your face or hear your voice again.”

She turned away, her hands shaking as she began to pack her things. Behind her, she could feel him deflate, his presence shrinking as though he wanted to disappear into his own shadows.

But she didn’t look back.

She couldn’t.

Not when the pain in her chest threatened to consume her all over again.

The silence left in Y/N’s wake was deafening. Azriel sat there, staring at the small fire he’d stoked earlier to ward off the morning chill. The flames flickered, but their warmth did nothing to thaw the icy pit in his chest.

Her words echoed in his mind: “I hate you.”

His shadows curled tighter around him, almost as if they could shield him from the sharp edge of her dismissal. But they couldn’t. Nothing could. He had heard those words from others—enemies, strangers—but never from her. Never from Y/N, the female he had…

Azriel swallowed hard, forcing himself to push away the thought. Whatever he had felt, or still felt, didn’t matter. Not now. Not when he’d destroyed her life.

He packed up the remnants of their meager breakfast in silence, every motion mechanical. His shadows flitted about, scouting ahead, as they always did. But even they seemed subdued, their whispers softer than usual, their presence a dull hum in the back of his mind.

When he finally stood, he caught sight of Y/N a short distance away, packing her own belongings. She moved with quick, efficient motions, her face set in a cold mask. It hurt more than it should, that distance.

Azriel forced himself to focus. The mission. They had to finish this mission. It was the only way he could begin to atone.

As they trekked through the dense forest, Azriel’s shadows returned to him, bringing snippets of information. Malrik’s stronghold wasn’t far now—a few hours’ travel at most. The path would grow more treacherous as they neared the base, but they could manage it. They always had before.

Azriel glanced at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. She walked ahead of him, her posture rigid, her focus locked on the path. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, catching on the strands of her hair, turning them into threads of gold. Even now, even with the weight of her anger pressing down on him, she was beautiful.

He tore his gaze away.

They didn’t speak. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Azriel’s mind churned with everything he wanted to say, everything he should say, but the words tangled in his throat. What was the point? She’d made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him.

His shadows stirred, tugging at his senses. He halted, raising a hand.

Y/N stopped immediately, her body tense. “What is it?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Azriel tilted his head, listening to his shadows. “Scouts. Two of them. About a hundred paces ahead.”

Y/N nodded, her hand already on the hilt of her blade. “We take them out?”

“No,” Azriel said quickly. “We avoid them. We’re too close to risk alerting Malrik.”

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t argue. They veered off the path, moving in silence through the underbrush. Azriel’s shadows guided them, weaving a path around the scouts’ position.

They were a good team, even now. Azriel couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly they worked together, how her movements complemented his, how she trusted his shadows without question. It was a painful reminder of what they had lost—and what they might never regain.

“We’ll approach from the south,” he continued, pulling the map from his pocket. “Malrik’s defenses are weaker there. Once we’re inside—”

“Azriel.”

He stopped, startled by the sharpness in her voice.

“Save it for when we’re there,” she said, not even looking at him. “I don’t need a play-by-play.”

His grip on the map tightened, the paper crinkling under his fingers. He stuffed it back into his pocket, his shadows curling tighter around him in response to the sting of her dismissal.

The rest of the journey passed in tense, stifling silence.

By the time they reached the edge of Malrik’s territory, the sun was high overhead, and the air had grown heavy with the scent of damp earth. Azriel crouched low, scanning the terrain ahead as his shadows flitted out, scouting for traps or hidden sentries.

Y/N knelt beside him, her movements quiet and precise. She didn’t speak, didn’t ask questions, just waited for his signal.

Azriel swallowed the ache in his chest and focused.

“We’ll go in after nightfall,” he said, his voice low. “There’s too much open ground to cover right now. We’d be spotted.”

Y/N nodded curtly, her expression unreadable.

He wanted to say something else, anything to fill the silence, but the words wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t want to hear them, anyway.

So he stayed quiet, letting his shadows do the talking as they scouted the area ahead. And as he watched her, sitting there with her face turned away from him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever find a way to reach her again—or if he was destined to lose her for good.

The dense forest around them seemed to grow darker with every step. The shadows clung to the trees like they belonged there, a creeping stillness settling over the air. Y/N pulled her hood tighter, the familiar weight of her weapons reassuring against her sides. She wasn’t nervous—no, she refused to let herself feel anything close to fear. But the sharp edge of anticipation coiled in her stomach, and she didn’t know whether it was the thought of facing Malrik or simply walking beside Azriel that made her insides twist.

He was silent, as usual. Not that she minded. The less they spoke, the easier it was for her to focus. And yet, her gaze kept sliding to him—to the way his wings curled in, tight and guarded, like even they knew the weight of what he carried. His face was a mask, his jaw clenched as he scanned their surroundings, shadows slipping over his shoulders and whispering things she couldn’t hear.

She hated how he could still look like that. Like the male she used to trust with her life. Like the male who had destroyed it.

“We’re close,” Azriel said quietly, his voice cutting through the stillness. He motioned ahead to where the trees thinned, revealing a steep ridge that overlooked a sprawling estate.

Y/N stepped up beside him, peering through the canopy. The estate was larger than she’d expected—a fortress more than a house, with high stone walls and watchtowers at every corner. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements precise and disciplined.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “He’s fortified himself well.”

“Malrik always did think himself untouchable,” Azriel replied, his voice neutral. But she caught the edge of something beneath it—bitterness, maybe. Or regret.

“Maybe he is,” Y/N muttered, adjusting the straps of her weapons belt. “Or maybe he’s just another coward hiding behind walls.”

Azriel didn’t respond. He unfolded a map from his satchel, spreading it across a flat rock. Y/N crouched beside him, her eyes scanning the layout of the estate as he pointed to various entry points.

“There’s a blind spot here,” he said, tapping the eastern side of the wall. “The guards rotate every twenty minutes. If we time it right, we can get in unnoticed.”

“And once we’re inside?” Y/N asked, her voice clipped.

Azriel’s shadows darted across the map, as if outlining the paths he’d already memorized. “We split up. I’ll head to the main hall to find the records Malrik’s been keeping. You take the east wing. That’s where he’s likely hoarding the weapons.”

“And if we run into him?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes flicked to hers, steady and unyielding. “Don’t hesitate.”

Y/N snorted, straightening. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

The words hung between them, heavier than she intended. She saw the flicker of something in his expression—guilt, or maybe pain—but he quickly turned away, rolling up the map and tucking it back into his satchel.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, drawing her daggers. “Let’s get this over with.”

They moved in silence, sticking to the shadows as they descended the ridge. The air grew colder the closer they got, the stone walls looming larger with every step. Y/N’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to stay calm, to keep her breaths even.

As they reached the blind spot Azriel had mentioned, his shadows darted ahead, slipping through the cracks in the wall. He held up a hand, signaling for her to wait, and she crouched low, her fingers curling around the hilt of her dagger.

Seconds stretched into minutes.

Y/N’s heart thudded in the silence, her breaths measured but tight. She glanced at Azriel, who seemed completely still, his focus on the shadows reporting back to him. She envied that stillness, that ease with which he could disappear into himself. Because as the minutes dragged on, her mind began to wander—back to a time she had no choice but to keep moving or risk falling apart.

The banishment.

The loneliness.

She could still feel the cold of those nights when she had no roof over her head, no safety to retreat to. When even a small fire risked drawing too much attention, and the ache of hunger became as familiar as the weapons she now carried. Her hands tightened around her daggers at the memory of how she’d survived—scraping by on instincts she didn’t know she had, enduring humiliation and pain she refused to dwell on.

She thought of the faces that had turned away from her, the whispers that had followed her wherever she went. Traitor. Liar. The words had been knives, sharper than anything she’d ever wielded. She’d grown used to the weight of them, to the constant ache in her chest.

But it hadn’t just been anger that kept her going. It was exhaustion, too. Exhaustion from holding herself together, from waking up every day and deciding to fight through it all when no one else would fight for her.

Her jaw clenched as her gaze slid back to Azriel. He had been the cause of it all, the one who lit the spark that burned her world to ash. And now, here he was, standing beside her as if they could somehow go back to what they once were.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Azriel’s shadows returned then, pulling her from her thoughts. His hand brushed her arm—a silent signal.

“Now,” he murmured, motioning for her to follow.

The fortress was eerily quiet, save for the faint murmur of guards’ voices echoing down the stone corridors. The scent of damp stone and oil lanterns lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood Y/N swore she could almost taste.

She moved in Azriel’s shadow, her steps silent as they crept deeper into the heart of Malrik’s stronghold. His wings were tucked tightly against his back, his shadows a living entity around them, cloaking their movements in secrecy.

Azriel gestured for her to stop as they approached a fork in the hallway. His hazel eyes flicked between the two paths, and his shadows darted ahead, scouting for threats. Y/N leaned against the cold stone wall, her breathing steady but her pulse thrumming.

She hated how familiar this all felt—the stealth, the tension, the thrill of being on the hunt. It reminded her of the missions she used to carry out with the Night Court’s spymaster. Back when they were partners. Back when she trusted him.

The memory twisted like a knife in her chest, and she pushed it away.

Azriel’s hand brushed her shoulder, snapping her focus back to the present. He pointed to the left corridor. “Records room is this way,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Weapons cache is down the other hall. We’ll split up.”

Y/N nodded, already moving toward the right corridor.

“Be careful,” Azriel said softly, his voice carrying a weight she didn’t want to acknowledge.

She didn’t look back as she replied, “Always am.”

The weapons cache was heavily guarded, but Y/N had faced worse odds before. Fear was a luxury she had abandoned long ago, replaced with cold, calculated precision.

She slipped through the shadows, her steps light and soundless, each movement deliberate. The first guard never saw her coming. Her dagger slid cleanly between his ribs, a swift and silent strike that left him slumping to the ground.

The second turned at the faint noise, his eyes widening as he opened his mouth to shout, but Y/N was faster. She lunged, one hand covering his mouth as the other drove her blade into his chest. His muffled cry died on her palm, his body going limp as she lowered him to the floor.

The third guard wasn’t as easy. He rounded the corner just as Y/N straightened, his eyes locking onto her.

“Hey—!”

Y/N’s dagger flew before he could finish, embedding itself in his throat. The gurgling noise he made as he crumpled to the ground sent a shiver up her spine, but she ignored it, her focus already shifting to the task at hand.

Blood pooled around the bodies, dark and glistening in the dim light of the lanterns lining the walls. Her boots left faint imprints as she stepped over them, barely sparing the corpses a second glance. This was the life she’d chosen—or, rather, the one that had been forced upon her. Hesitation had no place in it.

The cache itself was a hoard of nightmares. Weapons of every make and size were stacked in chaotic piles, from polished swords to crude, rusted spears. Crates were scattered across the room, many of them stamped with ominous markings that hinted at their contents.

Explosives.

Y/N’s stomach twisted as she crouched beside one of the crates, prying it open with the tip of her blade. Inside, bundles of volatile materials were packed tightly, ready to unleash devastation. She could almost see the destruction they could cause—the lives they could end—if they fell into the wrong hands.

Or if she used them.

She inhaled deeply, steeling herself as she began assessing the room. The eastern wall was load-bearing, its stonework already showing signs of strain from age and poor maintenance. If she planted the charges there, the entire wing would collapse, taking everything—and everyone—in it.

Perfect.

Her fingers moved deftly, securing the charges Azriel had handed her earlier. She worked in silence, her ears attuned to the faintest sound, her eyes constantly flicking to the shadows that seemed to grow longer with every passing second.

The room was too quiet now.

The eerie silence crawled under her skin, each hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She tried to shake off the unease, forcing herself to focus. The quicker she finished, the quicker she could leave this place behind.

But as she reached for the final charge, the sensation of being watched became impossible to ignore.

Her hand froze mid-air.

Y/N’s gaze darted around the room, scanning the shadows for any movement. The faint glow of the lanterns danced across the stone walls, casting flickering shapes that played tricks on her mind.

You’re imagining things, she told herself. Just finish the job.

But her body betrayed her, every instinct honed from years of survival screaming at her to move, to run, to fight.

She tightened her grip on her dagger, rising slowly from her crouch. The weight of the silence pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating, until the sound of a faint, deliberate step shattered it.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she spun, her blade already in hand, ready to strike.

But the room was empty.

No guards. No footsteps. Just the dim glow of the lanterns and the distant rumble of activity somewhere deeper in the fortress.

Y/N let out a slow, shaky breath, cursing herself for faltering. She had a job to do, and paranoia wouldn’t help her survive it.

Still, as she finished setting the last charge and turned to leave, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.

And that whoever—or whatever—was watching her wasn’t finished yet.

The last charge was set, and as Y/N’s hand pressed the final button to trigger the detonators, a strange, primal sense of satisfaction pulsed through her veins. The fortress would fall. Malrik’s reign of terror would come to an end.

She turned swiftly, ready to leave the weapons cache and move to the next part of the plan, but something in the air had shifted. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

It wasn’t just the oppressive silence anymore. No, this was different—more sinister. The shadows felt alive, watching her every move.

“Y/N,” Azriel’s voice broke through her thoughts, low and urgent.

She spun, meeting his eyes in the dim light of the hallway. He looked… different. His usual calm and composed demeanor was replaced by a look of steely focus, his shadows swirling around him as if responding to some unspoken command.

“There’s no time,” he said, his voice low but determined. “Malrik knows we’re here. We’ve been compromised.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She’d known the plan wouldn’t go off without a hitch, but she hadn’t expected it to unravel so quickly.

“Then let’s move,” she said, voice tight.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, searching her face, his shadows curling around her like a protective blanket. He didn’t speak, but she could see the question in his eyes: Are you ready for this?

She didn’t respond. Instead, she moved, leading the way down the narrow corridor with Azriel right behind her.

As they neared the center of the fortress, Y/N’s mind raced. She couldn’t help but think back to the years she spent trapped under Malrik’s control—the constant fear, the manipulation, the pain. She’d survived, but at what cost? Her mind was still scarred by those years, and her body still carried the marks of his cruelty.

The thought of confronting him made her hands shake, but she pushed it down. This wasn’t about her. It was about ending this once and for all.

They reached the heart of the fortress just as the first explosion rang out in the distance, shaking the ground beneath them. The walls trembled.

Malrik’s voice echoed through the halls, distant but unmistakable. “You think you can destroy me? You think you can bring me down? You’re nothing. Just like the others who tried before you.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold.

Azriel’s eyes met hers, and for a split second, she saw the fear in them—something she hadn’t seen from him in a long time.

He was worried.

But she couldn’t afford to think about that. They had a job to finish.

As they rounded the corner into a wide open room, the smell of smoke and the distant crackling of flames reached her nose. But it wasn’t the fire that caught her attention—it was the figure standing in the center of the room, waiting for them.

Malrik.

The man who had taken everything from her.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The man who had shattered her life was standing there, his smirk twisted in that all-too-familiar way. The air around him seemed to crackle with malice, his presence almost suffocating.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice oozing with mock sweetness. “I was wondering when you’d come. How predictable. You can’t outrun your past. It’s always waiting for you.”

A surge of rage hit her, and she took a step forward, her fists clenched at her sides. Her thoughts blurred as her heart hammered in her chest. The years of pain, of torment, everything she’d endured flooded back to the surface in a tidal wave.

Before she could even react, the room seemed to shift, the shadows thickening around them, and suddenly, Malrik’s forces were everywhere—emerging from the walls, from hidden doors, and from the shadows themselves. They were ready.

Azriel moved immediately, his shadows cutting through the air, but there were too many. They’d underestimated him, and they’d paid the price.

Y/N stepped back, pulling out her daggers, her mind focused on the fight ahead. But as she squared off with one of Malrik’s soldiers, her chest tightened. The memories of her past flooded in, overwhelming her—the nights in his cell, the screams, the betrayal, the suffocating darkness that held her captive.

It was too much.

She froze. The soldier in front of her lunged, but her body didn’t react. Her hands were shaking, the blades slipping from her fingers as a wave of panic and dread washed over her.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice pierced through the chaos, but it sounded far away. His voice broke her from her stupor, but the damage was done.

A soldier’s blade grazed her side, sending a jolt of pain through her body. She stumbled back, the world spinning as the wound burned.

She tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t obey. The memories, the horror, the terror she’d endured—it was too much.

Azriel was at her side in an instant, fury and panic flashing in his eyes. He pushed her behind him, his shadows swarming as he fought to protect her, but Y/N’s body refused to cooperate.

“Focus, Y/N!” Azriel growled, his voice thick with urgency. “We’re almost there. Just a little longer.”

But the battle raged around them, and in her frozen state, Y/N could do nothing but watch as Azriel fought off the soldiers with deadly precision.

Then, Malrik’s voice boomed across the room.

“Enough.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She could barely see through the fog of her own mind, but the cold, terrifying presence of Malrik seemed to surround her, like a suffocating blanket. She tried to focus, tried to force her body to move, but it was too late.

Azriel was already too far into the fight.

And then, with a roar, Malrik advanced. The final confrontation had begun.

The air around them felt thick with tension, suffocating and heavy. Malrik’s figure loomed ahead, like a dark storm cloud about to break. He was everything Azriel despised—cold, calculating, cruel—and his presence in this fortress was a testament to the devastation he had caused over the years. But now, standing before him, there was only one thing Azriel could think of: Y/N.

The woman who had been broken by Malrik’s hands, scarred by his touch, now stood at the mercy of his soldiers, her body stiff, her mind still imprisoned by the ghosts of her past. Azriel’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, and a sharp wave of fury surged through him. Malrik had caused this. Malrik had taken everything from her, and Azriel would be damned if he let him take more.

“I won’t let you have her,” Azriel’s voice was low, barely above a growl, as he faced Malrik in the center of the crumbling hall. His shadows twisted around him, responding to his fury. “Not again.”

Malrik’s smirk was maddeningly calm. His pale eyes gleamed with dark amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing—pitting Azriel’s deepest rage against him, throwing him off balance. But Azriel wasn’t going to be distracted. Not this time. Not when Y/N was in danger.

The soldier closest to Y/N lunged at her, but Azriel was already in motion. His blades sliced through the air, a blur of lethal precision, and the soldier crumpled to the ground without so much as a sound. But as he moved, he saw Y/N falter—her hand trembling, her gaze distant.

Her past was haunting her again.

Azriel’s blood ran cold, and his shadows surged forward, protecting her in a shield that held the remaining soldiers at bay. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Malrik and what he had done to her—the rape, the violence, the years of torment that had scarred her beyond recognition. Azriel had heard the stories, but hearing them from her mouth had been like a blade to his chest. The image of that bastard touching Y/N, breaking her, was enough to drive him into a rage that could level this fortress.

“I’ll make you pay,” Azriel muttered under his breath, his voice a venomous hiss.

Malrik’s gaze shifted toward him, an almost smug expression crossing his face. “You think you can stop me? You think you can kill me after all this time? You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Shadow-cursed.”

Before Azriel could respond, Malrik’s soldiers descended on them, weapons raised. Azriel didn’t hesitate. His shadows lashed out, tearing through the attackers with deadly force, but the numbers were overwhelming. They were everywhere—more than Azriel had anticipated. He could feel the weight of every strike, every dodge, every move, but he couldn’t stop. Not while Y/N was at risk.

Every slash of his blades, every strike, was fueled by the image of Y/N’s face when she had spoken of her suffering. He wanted Malrik to pay. He wanted him to feel every ounce of the hell he had put her through, to feel the agony, the loss, the betrayal.

But Malrik wasn’t a mere man—he was a threat unlike any Azriel had faced before. He had the resources, the men, and a weapon that Azriel had no way of anticipating. Malrik fought like a predator—cold, calculating, never wasting a movement. And Azriel was starting to realize the full extent of what he was up against.

Malrik didn’t need to speak for his presence to become overwhelming. The moment Azriel made an opening to strike, Malrik’s weapon swung in, a heavy, dark blade that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light, cutting through the air with a sound like the crack of a whip. It connected with Azriel’s side, a painful, burning slice that sent him stumbling back, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Is this the great Azriel?” Malrik sneered, advancing. “The so-called ‘Shadow of Night’ brought down by a mere blade?”

Azriel’s fury flared. “I’ll show you what happens when you mess with the wrong people.”

He fought with everything he had—his daggers cutting through flesh, his shadows warping around him, but Malrik was relentless. Every time Azriel gained an inch, Malrik took it back, pushing him farther and farther back. His soldiers surrounded them, and the walls seemed to close in as the fight dragged on, each passing second feeling like an eternity.

But in the chaos of the battle, something broke through—the sound of Y/N’s scream. It wasn’t just any scream. It was filled with pain, terror, and helplessness. Azriel’s heart stuttered, his blood running cold. He whipped his head around, his shadows moving with lightning speed to shield her once more.

Malrik’s men had swarmed her.

“No!” Azriel roared, cutting down anyone in his path as he made his way toward her, but by the time he reached her side, it was too late.

Y/N’s face was pale, her expression empty, her eyes distant—frozen in the grip of her past. One of Malrik’s soldiers had her pinned, and another raised a blade, ready to end her.

Azriel’s fury ignited. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind. His shadows exploded outward, a torrent of darkness and power, cutting down every enemy in sight, his focus on nothing but protecting Y/N. His blades flashed, severing limbs and spilling blood in an instant.

Her past was haunting her again.

“I’ll make you pay,” Azriel muttered under his breath, his voice a venomous hiss.

“Is this the great Azriel?” Malrik sneered, advancing. “The so-called ‘Shadow of Night’ brought down by a mere blade?”

Azriel’s fury flared. “I’ll show you what happens when you mess with the wrong people.”

Malrik’s men had swarmed her.

“No!” Azriel roared, cutting down anyone in his path as he made his way toward her, but by the time he reached her side, it was too late.

Y/N’s face was pale, her expression empty, her eyes distant—frozen in the grip of her past. One of Malrik’s soldiers had her pinned, and another raised a blade, ready to end her.

Azriel’s fury ignited once more, burning through him like wildfire. It felt as if the ground beneath him had cracked open, his heart beating out of his chest as his shadows swarmed, tearing through the soldiers with a speed and precision that left no room for mercy.

But as Azriel turned back to face Malrik, his mind sharpened with clarity, rage, and something darker—something primal. Malrik stood at the center of the chaos, watching with a twisted satisfaction in his cold eyes.

“You think you can stop me, Azriel?” Malrik laughed, his voice laced with arrogance. “You’ll never be enough. You’re weak, just like your pathetic allies. And when I’m done with you, I’ll make her scream again. She’ll remember—”

Azriel didn’t wait for him to finish. He lunged forward, daggers flashing in the dim light. But Malrik was prepared. His blade whipped out, clashing against Azriel’s with a violent crack. The force of the strike sent Azriel staggering, but he recovered in an instant, his shadows lunging forward to bind Malrik in place.

“You’ve caused enough destruction, Malrik,” Azriel growled, every word soaked with hatred. “It ends today.”

But Malrik wasn’t finished. With a growl, he twisted in the shadows’ grip, his body moving in unnatural, serpentine motions. He freed himself, ripping through the darkness with an ease that sent chills down Azriel’s spine.

“You can’t even begin to understand what I’ve done,” Malrik said coldly, a cruel smile on his lips. “And I’ll do it all over again—just to watch her break.”

Azriel’s vision blurred with rage. He attacked again, this time with more precision, his daggers slicing through the air with the fury of a storm. But Malrik was faster, stronger—his blade moving with deadly force, striking against Azriel’s, knocking him back.

The two of them collided in a clash of shadows and steel, neither giving an inch. Azriel’s heart thundered in his chest as he fought, shadows dancing wildly around him, his daggers flashing in the dim light, but Malrik was always a step ahead. Each strike felt like an eternity—every wound, every bruise, only fueling Azriel’s determination.

Azriel’s shadows tried to bind Malrik again, but Malrik’s blade was relentless, cutting through the darkness like a hot knife through butter. Every time Azriel thought he had the upper hand, Malrik shifted, ducked, or twisted, evading the strike with terrifying precision.

It was like fighting a monster—a nightmare that would never end.

And then, in a moment of vulnerability, Malrik made his move.

With a wicked grin, Malrik struck—his blade slashing across Azriel’s chest, cutting deep. Azriel gasped, staggering back as the blood welled from the wound. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as pain exploded in his side, but the fury inside him burned brighter.

“Is this all you have, Azriel?” Malrik taunted, his blade dripping with blood. “You couldn’t protect her before, and you won’t protect her now.”

Azriel’s vision clouded, the anger overwhelming every thought, every instinct. He wasn’t just fighting for victory—he was fighting for Y/N, for the woman who had been torn apart by this monster, for the woman who had been broken and rebuilt, piece by piece, by his hands.

“You don’t deserve to breathe,” Azriel hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

Malrik’s grin faltered as Azriel’s shadows surged forward in a final, desperate push, coiling around his legs, his arms—binding him tight. The shadows felt like iron chains, relentless and unyielding.

Azriel lunged forward, his blades flashing in the flickering torchlight, and with a scream of pure fury, he drove both daggers into Malrik’s chest, pushing deep until he felt the life drain out of him.

Malrik’s body slumped to the ground with a sickening thud.

Azriel stood over him, chest heaving, blood dripping from his wounds. His hands trembled as he pulled his daggers from the lifeless corpse. His gaze never left Malrik, not even as the life left him.

But as the adrenaline slowly faded, it wasn’t satisfaction that Azriel felt—it was the cold weight of loss.

The moment Malrik’s body crumpled to the ground, Azriel’s breath was ragged, his body pulsing with pain. The battle was over—Malrik was dead—but the victory felt hollow. The blood dripping from Azriel’s chest, from his side, was a constant reminder of the price he had paid. His vision was fading, but there was no time to stop. Not when Y/N was still in danger. Not when the woman who had been broken by this monster lay crumpled on the cold stone floor, barely conscious, her body barely clinging to life.

Azriel’s shadows moved around him, reaching out to steady him as his legs threatened to give way under him. His chest ached with every breath, but his eyes were locked on Y/N. He didn’t care about the blood pooling at his feet. He didn’t care about the pain. All that mattered was getting her out of here. Getting her somewhere safe. Somewhere she could heal.

His shadows crawled around her, pulling her body closer to his. He felt the weight of her fragile form in his arms, heard her ragged breaths, felt her pulse weakly under his touch.

“No. No, Y/N. Stay with me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky with raw emotion. The words were a plea—a command, a desperate cry. He couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not when they had just begun to fight back.

His hands shook as he cradled her, his blood mixing with hers, staining his skin, but he barely noticed it. Every drop of blood that soaked into his clothes only made the urgency in his chest burn hotter. His mind raced. He had to get her out. He had to get her somewhere safe.

Azriel’s last reserves of strength came crashing down on him. His wings trembled as he winnowed them both through the wreckage of the room, out of the hell that Malrik had made, and into the air. He was barely conscious himself, every breath a struggle. His vision was a blur, dark spots dancing before his eyes, but there was no other option. He couldn’t stop.

Velaris. The House of Wind. His only goal.

He landed with a jarring force, the impact almost sending him to his knees, but he stayed upright, clutching Y/N close to his chest. His body screamed in protest as he stumbled, blood dripping down his sides. He felt every injury, every slice from Malrik’s blade. But he couldn’t focus on that now. Not when Y/N was slipping away.

The doors to the House of Wind burst open, and Azriel’s heart nearly shattered as he rushed through the threshold, stumbling into the quiet hall.

“Azriel!” Rhysand’s voice cut through the panic in his mind, but Azriel couldn’t focus on the High Lord’s words. He couldn’t hear anyone. His only thought was Y/N, her fragile form in his arms.

“Get the healers. NOW!” Azriel shouted, his voice raw, frantic. His blood dripped from him like a scarlet trail as he moved, shaking, toward the stairs. The whole world seemed to pulse and fade with each breath, but he couldn’t stop. Not until she was safe.

“Azriel—”

Rhysand’s voice broke through again, but Azriel didn’t hear him. He was past the point of reason, his shadows thrashing around him as if they were as panicked as he was. The darkness roiled with his fury, his desperation. His wings were heavy with blood and exhaustion, but he wouldn’t let himself stop.

“Get out of my way,” Azriel growled, his voice an animalistic snarl as he shot a glare at Rhysand, his High Lord, the one person who had ever been his brother. The one person who should have commanded Azriel’s respect, but now? Nothing mattered but Y/N. His shadows twisted in response, threatening to lash out at the High Lord’s form. Azriel didn’t know what he’d do next, but he couldn’t stand still. He couldn’t wait.

He needed help. He needed someone to save her.

“She needs a healer, Rhys!” Azriel’s words were urgent, his voice thick with barely controlled panic. “Now!”

The shadows wrapped tighter around him, their darkness spreading out into the room, as if trying to force the world to bend to Azriel’s will. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

Rhysand’s expression flickered, and his gaze turned dark with understanding. Cassian appeared almost immediately, his face full of concern as he rushed toward them.

“What happened?” Cassian’s eyes darted between Azriel and Y/N, his hand brushing over Azriel’s bloodied chest.

“It’s Malrik,” Azriel muttered, his voice weak but fierce. “He—he’s dead. He’s dead, but... she... She needs help now.”

Cassian’s eyes hardened, and he nodded sharply. “I’ll get the healers.”

Azriel couldn’t think anymore. His mind was slipping in and out, and the world around him was dimming. The pain in his body was overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to the sight of Y/N, barely breathing in his arms. Her pulse was faint under his touch. She was fading.

Her body shuddered, and a weak sound escaped her lips. Azriel's heart shattered as he leaned in closer, his hands trembling as he pressed against her skin. “Y/N, please...” he whispered, his voice cracking, raw with grief. “Stay with me. Don’t leave me... don’t leave me alone.”

But she wasn’t responding. Her eyes flickered, and he could see the fight in her slowly dimming. She was slipping.

"Please," Azriel begged, his voice a tortured plea. "Please, Y/N... just stay awake. Stay with me. I’m here. I’m right here."

Her eyelids fluttered weakly, and Azriel’s heart skipped. He could hear the frantic movement around him, the Inner Circle gathering close, but nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except for Y/N.

Cassian and Rhysand spoke, Mor ran to get Amren in case the ancient female knew anything that could help, but Azriel didn’t hear them. All he could focus on was the weight of Y/N’s body, her breath shallow and shallow. He couldn’t let her die.

He wouldn’t survive if she did.

Azriel’s head swam as he willed himself to remain conscious. His injuries were severe—he could feel the blood seeping from the gash in his chest, his side throbbing in agony—but none of that mattered. He had no time for his own pain.

Y/N needed him.

And then, finally, the healers arrived.

“Azriel, we need space,” one of them said, their voice calm but firm.

Azriel barely registered the words. He shook his head desperately. “No,” he snapped. “She stays with me. You heal her, now.”

But the healers weren’t backing down. Rhysand’s powerful voice cut through his panic. “Azriel. Let them help.”

Azriel’s breath came in ragged gasps. His vision was closing in, everything feeling like it was slipping away. The tension in his body coiled tightly, the shadows vibrating with his distress. He had no idea how he was still standing, but there was nothing—nothing—that would tear him away from Y/N.

“No one takes her from me,” he hissed, his voice almost feral. His wings twitched behind him, and he took a step back to allow the healers to do their work, but his hands never left her body. He didn’t trust anyone else. Not right now.

As the healers began their work, Azriel sank to his knees beside her, his shadow-covered wings stretched out protectively over both of them, and he whispered through clenched teeth, “Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me.”

And then, finally, darkness overcame him.

The world was blurry when she woke up. Her vision swam in and out of focus, her head pounding as if a hundred hammers were smashing against her skull. She groaned softly, the weight of her limbs and the ache in her body dragging her back into consciousness. The first thing she noticed was the softness beneath her. The feeling of fine sheets, the coolness of the air. This was not the place she’d last remembered. This was not the battlefield, the ruins where Malrik had been.

Where am I?

The question was sluggish, curling in her mind. She turned her head, the movement slow and cautious, and she immediately regretted it. A sharp, agonizing pain coursed through her body, but she pushed through it. She was alive. That much she knew. But she could feel the heaviness of the room, the faint scent of healing herbs in the air. Something was off, but there were more immediate concerns.

The flicker of motion caught her eye. A woman was standing beside the bed, one that didn’t exactly seem familiar but was clearly there with intent. Y/N tried to push herself up, but the dizziness almost made her collapse again. She gripped the side of the bed and blinked at the woman.

“Where am I?” Her voice sounded strange—weak, like she hadn’t used it in ages.

The woman—who Y/N now recognized as Amren, one of the Inner Circle—raised an eyebrow, her cold, calculating gaze flicking over Y/N’s form. There was no warmth there, no sympathy. But that was to be expected. Y/N knew of Amren. The woman was an enigma, someone who remained aloof from others.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days,” Amren said with her usual bluntness, the words heavy in the air. “It’s no surprise, considering the state you were in when you arrived.” She didn’t look concerned, just matter-of-fact. “The healers are doing their best to keep you alive.”

Y/N's heart dropped at the word state. The last thing she remembered before everything went black... Malrik’s blade. The fight. Azriel. She bit down on the pain that wanted to crawl up her throat, her stomach twisting into a tight knot as the realization began to seep in like a slow poison.

“Azriel…” she whispered, her voice faint, trembling. “Where is he? What happened to him?”

Amren hesitated, just the smallest flicker of emotion crossing her cold features before she turned to the door. “That’s Mor’s department. She’ll have more details for you.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened at the mention of his name. She struggled to sit up, the pain ripping through her body. She could barely see straight, but she had to know. Had to. She needed to hear it from someone who had seen it all, who knew what happened.

Before Amren could stop her, the door to the room opened. A figure appeared in the doorway—Mor, her presence commanding, yet there was a tiredness in her eyes that Y/N hadn’t seen before. The High Fae’s gaze flickered to her briefly before moving to Amren, her wings twitching behind her.

“Well, any news?” Amren asked, her tone like steel, unbothered by the situation. She was a woman of few words, but those words always carried weight.

Mor sighed, her eyes dark and weary. “No change. He’s still unconscious. The shadows are restless. They won’t stay still. It’s like they’re trying to drag him back to the fight.” She paused, glancing at Y/N. “And... Y/N, I’m glad you’re awake, but I... I didn’t think it would be this soon.”

Her voice softened when she saw Y/N’s frantic gaze locked onto her, and she moved closer to the bed, her face full of concern despite her usual guarded demeanor. Y/N couldn’t shake the sense of impending dread that settled in her chest, the heaviness of it threatening to crush her.

“Who are you talking about?” Y/N asked, the words strangling her as they left her mouth. She knew, but she needed to hear it. She needed confirmation.

Amren and Mor exchanged a glance. It was brief, but there was an unmistakable hesitation in it.

“Azriel,” Mor said, her voice soft but steady, the name carrying a weight Y/N hadn’t expected to hear. "He’s been unconscious for the same amount of time as you. Both of you... you looked like absolute shit when you were brought back. He could barely hold you, Y/N. He was badly wounded."

Y/N felt her heart stop. The breath caught in her throat. He was hurt? The memory of their last moments together came flooding back. Azriel, fighting with everything he had to protect her, to save her. He’d come for her. He hadn’t left her behind.

He hadn’t left her.

The room seemed to spin as the emotion she’d been holding back finally began to crack open. “He saved me?” The words were raw, broken, like she was speaking through a jagged breath. “He didn’t leave me behind? Even after everything? After—?”

Mor stepped closer, her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. There was something unspoken in her gaze, something that softened her usual sharp edges. “Of course not,” Mor replied. “He would never leave you behind. Not in a thousand lifetimes.”

Y/N’s chest felt tight. She wanted to scream, to shout, to cry, but her body refused to let her. It was as if everything inside her had been frozen in place—until now. The realization that Azriel had come for her, that he had fought for her, that he hadn’t abandoned her in the chaos, was almost too much to comprehend.

But as soon as the weight of that truth sank in, a surge of panic tore through her.

“Where is he?” Y/N demanded, sitting up, her body screaming in protest at the movement, but she didn’t care. She needed to know. “I need to see him. Now.”

“Y/N, you’re not—” Amren started, but Y/N wasn’t listening. She could barely hear anything over the pounding of her heart.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her knees buckling beneath her as pain shot through her entire body. Her head spun, but she didn’t care. She was not staying here, helpless and stuck in this room. Not when Azriel—he—was out there, fighting to stay alive.

Before anyone could stop her, Y/N surged forward, pushing past Mor and Amren as she stood on shaky legs. The pain was unbearable, but it didn’t matter. She grabbed Mor’s arm, holding onto her with a desperation that surprised them both.

“Lead the way,” Y/N’s voice was fierce, even though it cracked. “I don’t care about anything else. Take me to Azriel. Now.”

Mor blinked at her in surprise, clearly taken aback by Y/N’s sudden surge of strength, but she didn’t hesitate for long. The urgency in Y/N’s voice was undeniable, and after a beat of hesitation, she nodded.

“Fine,” Mor said, her voice softening for a moment before she turned and motioned for Y/N to follow. “But you’re not going to like how bad he looks. We can’t risk you falling apart again. You need to be ready for this.”

“I don’t care!” Y/N snapped, her voice hoarse, filled with panic and fear. “Just take me to him.”

And without another word, Mor led her through the winding halls, her heart pounding with every step. She could hear the distant sound of voices, of the chaos that seemed to have erupted in the house. But Y/N’s focus remained on one thing—Azriel. And nothing would stop her from reaching him. Not the pain, not the fear, not even the weight of everything that had happened.

She was going to get to him. And she was going to make sure he knew, once and for all, that she would never leave him behind.

The door opened with a soft creak, and Y/N’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the only thing that mattered—the figure lying on the bed, unconscious and battered beyond recognition.

Azriel.

Her heart stopped for a brief second, a sharp pang of panic squeezing the breath from her lungs. It was him. It was really him. She stumbled into the room, leaning heavily on Mor, her legs shaking beneath her from the strain. But once she crossed the threshold and saw him, the world seemed to blur. Nothing else existed in that moment, not the soft hum of the room, not the presence of others who quietly lingered in the shadows. It was just Azriel, the male she needed, the male who had saved her.

The sight of him like this—a shell of the warrior she knew, pale and drained of life, bandaged and broken—made her chest tighten painfully. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, too slow, too weak, and it felt like a distant echo of the man she remembered.

Her legs gave out then, and Mor helped her gently onto the edge of the bed. She sat down slowly, careful not to jostle him, her hands trembling as they hovered near Azriel’s. The room felt suffocating now, as though the weight of the air, of the uncertainty, was too much to bear. The presence of others in the room—Rhysand and Cassian—faded to the background as she focused solely on the man lying in front of her.

She didn’t acknowledge them. She didn’t need to.

Her fingers brushed against Azriel’s hand, as if she was afraid the touch would somehow shatter the moment. The warmth of his skin was faint, but it was there. It was enough. She took his hand in both of hers, holding it gently, and she let her breath steady before speaking, her voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room.

“Azriel,” she breathed, her voice soft but desperate. “Please, come back to me. I can’t do this without you. I can’t... I won’t let you go.”

She swallowed, trying to keep the trembling from her voice, trying to keep her composure, but the fear was there—thick, suffocating. “I need you. You saved me, but now... now it’s my turn to save you. Please, don’t leave me here, don’t leave me to fight this alone. You’re my strength, my anchor. Without you, I’ll be lost.”

She leaned closer, her face hovering just above his. The words came easier now, spilling from her lips in a quiet flood. “I know we’ve been through so much, Azriel, but I... I need you. We have so much left to do, so much we haven’t said to each other. I—I can’t lose you. Not now.”

The words hung in the air, like a fragile prayer, but she felt them burn in her chest. She didn’t want to let go of him. Not now. Not ever.

Then, as if the universe had decided to remind her that she wasn’t alone, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke through the quiet. Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t noticed Rhysand and Cassian standing at the other side of the room, their watchful eyes fixed on her and Azriel.

Rhysand’s voice was soft, but there was a tightness to it. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say?

It was Rhys who spoke again, his words careful, each one deliberate as he took a step closer to her and Azriel. “I should have told you before. But you deserve to hear it now.” He paused, a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps—before he continued. “I had a hand in your exile, Y/N. I thought duty came first, and I made a choice. I forced Azriel to do what he did, and... I regret it. So much. Especially after seeing what he’s gone through since.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes flickering to Rhysand. She wanted to say something—wanted to scream at him, to ask why, to demand answers—but the words felt too heavy, too loaded. And besides, Azriel’s life hung in the balance, and she wasn’t sure she could focus on anything else just yet.

Rhysand looked at her with a quiet, raw honesty. “I regret it, Y/N. I did it because I thought it was best for the Court, for all of us. But I see now that I was wrong. I never should have forced Azriel into that position. Never.”

Cassian stepped forward then, his face hardened with regret, his voice a little rougher than usual. “None of us knew, Y/N. Not Mor, not Amren, not any of us. We didn’t know how bad it was, how much Azriel was suffering. We didn’t know the weight he was carrying. But I’m begging you—please, understand that none of us knew. And we all want to make it right.”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately. Her mind was reeling, trying to process the weight of what they were saying. But through the fog of her thoughts, one thing became painfully clear—she couldn’t afford to focus on this. Not right now. She couldn’t afford to let this divide them further. Azriel needed her.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Y/N muttered, her voice shaking, but there was no anger in it, just a quiet, resigned exhaustion. “We’ll talk later. Right now, just... just don’t let him die. Please.”

Her gaze flickered back to Azriel’s pale face, the shadows that still clung to him like a dark promise, and she squeezed his hand tighter, as if to will him to wake up.

“I have unspoken words to share with him,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking on the words. “I’m not ready to lose him. Not yet.”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. The room fell into a heavy silence as Y/N sat at Azriel’s side, her heart beating in time with his shallow breaths. And as the moments ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity, she could only hope, pray, that the male she loved would come back to her.

That he wouldn’t let go.

Not yet.

Two more days passed. Forty-eight hours.

Two days that felt like an eternity.

In all that time, Y/N had never once left Azriel’s side. Not once. Even when she was being treated for her own injuries, she would make sure to sit beside him afterward, her gaze never straying too far from his unconscious form. She ate her meals in his room, and when the healers came to check on him, she would watch, her heart in her throat, praying for any sign of improvement.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness, but she refused to leave him, not when he had done so much for her, not when he had saved her life and brought her back from the edge of death itself. No. She would stay with him, even if it felt like time was dragging on and the world outside seemed so far away.

And then, on the second day, when the shadows had grown restless and the light of the room began to shift as dusk approached, it happened.

Azriel woke up.

Y/N felt it before she saw it—the subtle shift in the air, the way the shadows calmed, the way his chest gave that faint rise and fall, like a fragile whisper. Her heart skipped a beat, and in a heartbeat, she was at his side, her hand gently brushing against his, as though afraid that touching him too much would shatter the moment.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, the darkness of his irises blinking against the light, the weakness in his expression making her heart break all over again.

"Azriel," Y/N whispered, her voice a breathless exhale of relief.

He blinked again, and then a small, tired smile crept onto his face as he realized she was there. “You’re awake,” he murmured hoarsely, his voice rough from disuse, but still so much like the Azriel she knew.

She nodded, her hand shaking as she cupped his cheek, gazing at him as if afraid he might slip away again if she let go for even a second. “I’m awake, I’m here,” she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat. Her heart felt too full, and in that moment, she didn’t care who saw or heard. Azriel was awake, and that was all that mattered.

But as her gaze flickered to the door, ready to call for anyone—healers, Rhys, Mor—Azriel’s weak hand reached out and grasped hers, gently but firmly, stopping her before she could move.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice barely audible, but it held a quiet desperation. “Stay with me... just a little longer.”

Her heart ached at the plea in his voice, but she nodded, sinking back into the chair beside him, her fingers still intertwined with his. Azriel pulled her closer, his hand guiding hers to rest at his side, his tired eyes locking onto hers.

“I need more time like this,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion, but there was a softness in his gaze. A vulnerability that she wasn’t used to seeing from him. “More time with you. I know it’s probably an illusion. I know I don’t deserve this... but...” He paused, his eyes flickering with the weight of unsaid words. “Please, let’s talk. Let’s get this out in the open, so I can stop carrying this weight.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her chest tightening at his words. She opened her mouth to protest, to say they could talk later, that she didn’t want to push him when he was so weak, but Azriel cut her off before she could speak.

“No, Y/N,” he said, a rare intensity flickering in his eyes despite his exhaustion. “I can’t keep pretending. I need to say this now.”

She could see it—he was determined. He had to do this now, or it would consume him.

“Alright,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, though her hand tightened around his. “We can talk. But not about everything. Not now, Azriel. Not when you're like this.”

He gave a soft, sad smile, nodding. “I’ll go first.” His gaze softened as he exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. “I never got the chance to properly express myself before... but I need you to hear this now.”

He took a breath, his voice steady despite the tremor in his body. “After your banishment... I made sure you weren’t alone. I made sure you were never without what you needed, even when I couldn’t be there for you. It was me who left the money on your doorstep every month... it was me, Y/N. I couldn’t do anything for you in the first year because I thought you didn’t want me anywhere near you. I thought you hated me. And I... I couldn’t bring myself to face you, to tell you how sorry I was. How guilty I felt for what happened. But I made sure you had what you needed... I just couldn’t tell you. I didn’t deserve your smile. I didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore."

His fists clenched as he sighed. "That's why I never....never knew of what Malrik did to you. Because the first year I tried- truly tried justifying my horrible actions and staying away from you. I swear Y/N, if only I knew-"

He took a shaky breath, his fingers tightening around hers. “I want to make this right. I will make it right, Y/N. When I recover, I will personally make sure Rhys understands what I’ve done, and that I’ll fix everything, whatever it takes. I’ll make sure you’re taken back to the Night Court. And if you’ll have me, if you’ll allow me... I’ll make sure you rejoin my team. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I understand if you say no. But I’m asking for the chance... a chance to prove myself to you.”

Y/N stared at him, the words settling over her like a heavy weight, the truth of them sinking into her chest. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him, not yet, not when everything still felt so raw, so painful.

But then, she brushed the strands of hair from his forehead, her fingers gentle as they touched his skin, the warmth of his body grounding her in the moment. She let out a slow sigh, her voice quiet but firm.

“I don’t forgive you, Azriel,” she said softly. “And I will never forget what you did. But... I’m willing to give you a chance.” She met his gaze, her heart a tangle of emotions she didn’t have words for. “To prove yourself. To show me you can do better. To show me you care.”

Azriel’s eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders relaxing, as if a weight had been lifted. “I’ll do anything,” he whispered. “Anything to prove it to you.”

And for the first time in days, Y/N felt a flicker of hope.

The days seemed to stretch on, slow but comforting, and with every passing moment, Y/N and Azriel began to discover a new rhythm between them—one they had never experienced before. There were no rushes, no expectations, only the quiet bond they shared that had begun to grow roots in the fertile soil of time. Each small gesture, each word spoken, was a step forward, a step toward something neither of them had ever dared to hope for.

It wasn’t just their conversations that made the days feel different—it was the way they spent time together. They no longer avoided each other, as they once had, but instead leaned into the comfort of shared silence. In the mornings, they would sit side by side, Azriel with his books and reports, Y/N with a cup of tea in hand, and they would just be there together. There were no grand confessions or dramatic exchanges, just the small moments of connection that seemed to fill the spaces between them.

Y/N found herself smiling more than she had in years. She had come to love the quiet moments with Azriel. It wasn’t even about the things they talked about, but the way they could just exist together without the burden of the past hanging over them. Every laugh, every quiet word shared, began to heal something deep inside her.

But the true magic of their bond happened when they opened up about their fears—things they had never told anyone before.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in shades of gold and pink, Y/N found herself sitting across from Azriel in the garden. The air was cool, the breeze gentle, and for the first time in a long while, the weight of the world seemed to fall away.

She spoke of her time in exile—how she had tried to survive, tried to find meaning in the solitude that had been thrust upon her. Azriel listened, always patient, always present, never once interrupting. And in return, Azriel began to share more—about his guilt, about the constant weight of responsibility he had carried, and about the painful truths he had buried deep within him. They both found a kind of solace in these conversations, a silent understanding between them that spoke louder than words.

Azriel leaned back against the stone bench, his eyes searching the darkening sky. “Do you ever wonder if we’re just... doomed to repeat our mistakes?” His voice was low, almost contemplative.

Y/N glanced at him, sensing the underlying vulnerability in his question. “I think... we all have our demons. Some of us just face them sooner than others.”

Azriel’s gaze shifted to her, his expression softening. “What if I told you that I spent so long running from my mistakes, I almost forgot how to face them head-on? I didn’t just fail you—I failed myself, too. I thought I could keep it all under control, but I’ve learned... the hard way that control is just an illusion.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she heard the pain in his voice. She had never imagined Azriel would carry such heavy burdens on his own. She reached out, placing her hand on his. The touch was gentle, a silent offer of comfort. “You’re not alone in this, Azriel. You never have been.”

His hand squeezed hers, and for a moment, they were silent, both lost in their thoughts. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though; it was a quiet understanding between them, an unspoken connection that neither of them had ever felt with anyone else.

Azriel broke the silence after a while, his voice steady but with an underlying emotion. “I’m sorry for everything, Y/N. I was selfish. I pushed you away when all you ever needed was someone to stand beside you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him, her heart swelling. “I was angry, Azriel. I hated you for what you did, for the way you left me in the dark. But I see now... I see how much you’ve changed. How much you’ve done to make things right.”

Azriel looked down at their intertwined hands, his voice rough. “It’s not enough, Y/N. I can never undo what I did. But I’ll spend every moment from now on trying to prove to you that I’m not that person anymore.”

Y/N was quiet for a long moment. She had been angry, so angry, for so long. But now, as she listened to him, felt the sincerity in his words, the anger began to lose its grip on her heart. She had always known that deep down, Azriel wasn’t the one she should be angry at. He was just another soul trying to find his way, just like she was.

“I believe you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s going to take time. I need time to heal, too.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “We have time. As much time as we need.”

Azriel kept his word. He did everything in his power to make things right, though his efforts often went unnoticed by the rest of the world. He took the time to visit every corner of his network—his spies, his workers, the people who owed him loyalty—one by one, and confessed his shame. He told them all of his mistake, how he had failed Y/N, how he had allowed her to be exiled and how that decision had broken him.

And when the time came to speak with Rhys, Azriel was firm, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes.

“I don’t care what it takes,” Azriel had said, his gaze unwavering. “If Y/N isn’t allowed back into the Night Court, then I will leave. I will go with her. I’m done with this court, if it means losing her.”

Rhys had looked at him, his face unreadable for a moment, but then he spoke, his voice soft but firm. “You think I wouldn’t accept her back? You think I would make you choose between this court and her?”

Azriel met his gaze, his jaw tight. “You tell me. You’ve made your position clear before. I won’t let you tear us apart.”

Rhys had exhaled, his shoulders loosening. “It’s not like that. I never wanted to keep her from you. And if you think for one second that I would let anything come between the two of you, you’re wrong. But there’s more to this than just your promise, Azriel. There’s the matter of what’s right.”

Y/N had overheard part of the conversation, her heart stirring in her chest. She had known, deep down, that Rhys had his reasons, but hearing him speak so openly, so honestly, about what he would do for her... it made her heart ache in a way she hadn’t expected. For all their tension, their difficult history, there was a part of her that understood the weight of the choices Rhys had made.

When the conversation ended, it was like a door had been opened—a door that had been locked for so long. Y/N wasn’t just being accepted back into the Night Court; she was being welcomed with open arms, with an understanding that she had a place here. That she wasn’t just Azriel’s, but part of something bigger, something that had always been hers.

Weeks Later

Y/N walked into the training courtyard, the soft hum of the day’s activities filling the air. Her body had healed, her strength returning with each day. Azriel was already there, practicing his forms, his movements fluid and precise. He looked up as she approached, his eyes softening when he saw her.

She had learned, in the time since their conversation, how much he had done—how much effort he had put into making things right. And while the road to healing was still long, she couldn’t deny the shift in their dynamic. She had seen him work tirelessly, not just for her, but for himself. He had made amends where he could, he had spoken with those who needed to hear it, and he had taken responsibility for his actions in a way that left her with no choice but to respect him all over again.

“You’ve been training all morning,” she teased, her lips quirking into a smile as she approached him.

Azriel’s mouth twitched into a grin, though his tired eyes showed the weight of his own healing journey. “Someone has to keep up with you,” he replied, his voice laced with affection.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and watched him for a moment. “You’re getting better,” she observed. “But you still need to catch up to me.”

He chuckled softly. “Maybe I’ll get there one day.”

She stepped forward, her fingers grazing his arm lightly. “You’re already there,” she murmured, the words almost too soft to hear.

Azriel’s gaze flickered to her, his eyes darkening with something unreadable. He stepped closer, closing the space between them, and reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long time coming. I know I can’t undo what’s been done... but I’m going to spend every moment I can making sure you know how much I care. How much I regret the things I did.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest, her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t just the apology that moved her, it was the sincerity in his eyes. She had never seen Azriel so raw, so open. And it made her believe in him again.

“I believe you,” she whispered. “And I know you’re trying. But we have time now... time to figure this out together.”

A gentle silence passed between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a quiet understanding, a promise without words, that they would move forward, together.

The conversation with Rhys had been long and difficult, but when Azriel emerged, there was a calmness to him that hadn’t been there before. Y/N could sense the weight of it, the way he stood taller now, as though he had finally cast off the chains of guilt and shame that had bound him for so long.

Azriel met her eyes across the room, his gaze softening as she stood from her seat. He walked toward her, his movements slower than usual, as though every step was a testament to how far they had come.

“I never thought it would feel like this,” Y/N said, her voice quiet as she stood before Azriel, her heart pounding in her chest. “To be accepted back... to have everything feel like it’s slowly coming together.”

Azriel stepped forward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not perfect. It never will be. But we’re here. We’re together now.”

Y/N smiled softly, a tear slipping down her cheek as she looked up at him. “And that’s all that matters.”

As Azriel cupped her face in his hands, their lips met in a kiss that held the promise of all the things they had yet to say, all the healing yet to come. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was a quiet, slow kiss that spoke of time, of patience, of the love they had built in the silence between them. And as they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, both of them knew—this was just the beginning.

"Show me how much you've changed, Az" she whispered before feeling him gently scoop her up in bridal style and go down the hallway.

(SMUT STARTS HERE)

Once inside his bedroom, Azriel towered over her, "Are you sure you want this?"

Y/N only nodded her head, hands resting on his chest. "Yes, fuck me, Azriel."

He smiled gently and shook his head. "No, I won't fuck you. I will make love to you."

He didn't give her a chance to reply before leaning down and in one quick motion capturing her lips, her gasp. Y/N's hand's went to his shoulders, one of them holding Azriel by the nape of his neck, bringing him closer down to her as she felt his arms tighten around her, their bodies pressed flush against one another.

Their kiss deepened, and Azriel’s movements were slow, deliberate. There was no rush, no sense of urgency between them, only the quiet, steady rhythm of two souls coming together after years of separation, of scars and healing.

Y/N felt her breath hitch as Azriel’s hands gently skimmed over her skin, his touch almost reverent, as though he were cherishing each part of her. His fingers trailed along the curve of her waist, his touch light, as though testing the waters. She felt the heat of his body against hers, the solid weight of him comforting and grounding.

With a gentle pull, Azriel guided her to sit up on the edge of the bed, never breaking their kiss. His hands moved to the fabric of her clothing, his fingertips brushing against the soft material, but his motions were cautious, careful—almost as if asking for permission. He didn’t need to speak it; his touch was enough. Y/N felt the weight of the past between them, but in this moment, it was a distant memory. There were no walls between them, no walls to break down.

Her hands moved to his chest, pushing his tunic off his shoulders, the fabric falling to the floor in a heap. She could feel the hard lines of his muscles beneath her fingertips, the smoothness of his skin, but there was a tenderness in how they undressed each other, a silent understanding that this wasn’t about passion or lust alone—it was about something deeper. It was about trust. About healing.

Azriel’s breath was warm against her skin, and his hands moved to the buttons of her dress, his movements slow, deliberate, as if every action held meaning. Each layer of clothing that fell away was like another barrier they had broken down, another step closer to one another. And as her dress pooled around her feet, she felt more exposed than she ever had, but not vulnerable. Not with Azriel. With him, it felt like coming home.

He took a step back, just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire but filled with something deeper—something tender, something that made her heart ache in a way she wasn’t expecting. The vulnerability between them was raw, but it was comforting, something she hadn’t realized she needed until now.

“I won’t rush you,” Azriel murmured, his voice low, like the sound of a night wind through the trees. “This is about us—about us being here. Now.”

Y/N nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she gazed up at him, her hands resting lightly on his chest. The weight of everything they had been through—everything they were still going through—hung in the air, but it no longer felt like something they had to carry alone. It was a shared weight, something they would hold together.

And as Azriel lowered himself onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms, the soft press of his lips against her forehead was the promise of something far more profound than what either of them had ever experienced. This wasn’t just a physical connection; it was emotional, it was spiritual, and it was a healing that neither of them had expected.

Their bodies moved together, slowly, with care, the gentle rhythm of their movements speaking volumes. It wasn’t fast or frantic—it was a dance of patience and love, a stark contrast to the turmoil and chaos of their past. They were no longer the broken, scarred people they once were. Together, they were something new, something rebuilt. Each caress, each kiss, was a quiet declaration that they had found something real.

"Azriel..." she moaned an hour and two rounds later as the male in question had his head inbetween her legs, lapping up all her juices, his fingers also massaging her clit while his eyes never left hers. Oh those dark, intense eyes....

Y/N clenched his hair harder as Azriel began thrusting his tounge deeper and faster. He had kept to his word, fucking her gently, lovingly, leaving love bites and marks all over her chest, stomach and thighs. Of course she hadn't forgotten about him either, once again riding him just like that night at the inn but this time....slower, gentler, as she kissed his lips, his face, his neck and chest, hearing him groan and moan, her name spilling out of his mouth like some sacred prayer.

And now, he was intent on licking her clean. Y/N sucked in aharsh breath as she felt his other hand drift upwards, to her breasts, gently grasping and fondling them. Her thighs squeezed his head and Azriel rolled- visibly, literally rolled his eyes and groane dinto her mouth, causing her to cum all over his face.

Azriel lifted his wet, dripping face as he crawled upwards on her body, kissing along her scars, her marks, her curves, her 'imprefections' as he growled loving praises at ehr like, "Delicious" "Absolutely divine" "Mine" "Fucking hell" and Y/N could barely hide her blush.

But all of her thoughts went out of her head when she felt his thick, once more hardened and angry cock gently sliding inside her overstimulated lips. Her arms immediately went up to his neck as brought him down and whispered, "Now, will you fuck me Azriel?"

She heard a true, genuine, laugh from him as he replied with his smug voice. "Whatever you wish, beautiful." before picking up his pace.

And when they finally came together, it wasn’t with the force of their past storms, but with the calm of the peace they had found in each other. It was tender, it was slow, and it was everything they had been waiting for without even realizing it.

(SMUT ENDS HERE)

In the stillness of the room, only the sound of their steady breathing filled the air. The world outside seemed far away, as if time itself had slowed down to honor this moment between them. Azriel’s hand gently traced the curve of Y/N’s back, the soft movement a promise that he would never let go again, not after everything they had been through. His touch was warm, grounding, and as her fingers played with the fabric of his tunic, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace—something she hadn’t known she was missing until now.

They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the past slowly but surely lifting. There were no more words to be spoken, no more apologies to be made—just the quiet, unspoken understanding that they had found their way back to each other. The road ahead was uncertain, but it no longer felt daunting. Together, they would face whatever came next, not as two individuals, but as a united force, stronger for the healing they had both undergone.

Y/N sighed softly, her head resting on Azriel’s chest, the steady beat of his heart echoing in her ear. She could feel the peace settling over her, like a gentle tide washing away the remnants of all the pain, all the loss. She had once thought she couldn’t move forward, couldn’t heal. But now, with Azriel beside her, she knew that healing wasn’t about forgetting—it was about letting go, trusting, and opening up to the possibility of something more.

Azriel shifted slightly, lifting his head to look at her. His gaze was soft, filled with a warmth that made her heart swell. “We’re going to be okay,” he murmured, as if reaffirming the truth they both knew deep down. “Together.”

Y/N smiled, her fingers gently brushing his cheek. “Together,” she whispered back, the word tasting like the beginning of something beautiful.

And as the quiet night stretched on, they remained in that peaceful embrace, a new chapter unfolding before them, ready to be written with all the love and healing they had fought so hard to find. The future was no longer a place of uncertainty. With each other, they had found their way home.

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

Taglist: @darkbloodsly @moonfawnx @clementine111002 @galaxystern08 @batboyslutt @circe143 @tele86

#acotar #azriel #fanfics #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel smut #acotar angst #acotar smut

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natsaffection · 5 months ago

Text

Auge um Auge pt. 3 | N.R.

Investigator!older!Natasha x Robber!younger! reader

Warnings: Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) steamy tension, Natasha being overall cute

Word count: 5,9k

A/n: I love writing love confessions..🫂👀

The heist had already been ongoing for a few days, and the tension between the robbers and the police had become unbearable. The professor had anticipated the police’s response and had tasked you with laying the groundwork for the next step: infiltrating the police’s command network with a cleverly disguised trap.

Using your hacking skills, you had inserted malicious code into the police communication network. The code caused intermittent failures in critical systems like surveillance cameras, encrypted communication channels, and tactical coordination tools. It wasn’t a complete blackout, but it created enough chaos to leave the police scrambling for solutions.

“They’ll think it’s a sophisticated hack.” the professor had said. “And when they realize their own tech team can’t fix it, they’ll seek outside help. That’s where you come in.” You had smiled, though your stomach churned with nerves. “What if they don’t take the bait?” The professor had adjusted his glasses, his voice calm. “Trust me, they will. You’ve done good groundwork, and Natasha will bite.”

Officers shouted over each other, screens blinked with error messages, and the air was thick with rising panic. The robbers had taken over multiple police systems, rerouted communication channels, and disrupted surveillance feeds. Worse, they had fed the unit targeted misinformation, nearly leading to a catastrophic operation that left officers in complete disarray.

Maria sat at the central workstation, her jaw clenched as she desperately tried to regain control. “It’s like they’re toying with us..” she muttered, staring at the corrupted data streams on her screen. “They know exactly where to hit us. Natasha stood nearby, her arms tightly crossed. “How bad is it?”

“They’ve locked us out of certain areas of our own system.” Maria said sharply. “And their encryption? It’s not standard. It feels almost..experimental. Natasha frowned. “Can you crack it?” Maria paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, then exhaled sharply. “Maybe. But not fast enough. They’re three steps ahead, and we don’t have time to lose.” Natasha hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Then we need someone who thinks like them.”Maria turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I know someone who could help us.” Natasha said cautiously. “A civilian. Brilliant with tech, unpredictable, exactly the type of person who could mirror the robbers’ creativity.” Maria’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A civilian? You can’t be serious, Natasha. This isn’t some neighborhood dispute, this is a high-risk, top operation. And you want to bring in someone off the street?”

“She’s not just ‘anyone.’” Natasha countered firmly. “I trust her.” Maria scoffed. “And that’s supposed to reassure me? I trust you, Natasha, but this? You want to involve an outsider in our operation?”

“We’re already exposed!” Natasha snapped, her voice rising. “They’ve hacked our systems, locked us out, and led us straight into a trap. We can’t keep doing the same thing and expect different results.” Maria folded her arms. “And you think your civilian will magically solve everything?”

“I think she’s our best chance.” Natasha said. “Maria, you’re the best there is, but even you said this isn’t standard. This encryption? It’s personal. We need someone who thinks like the person who designed it.” An officer hurried over to Maria with a report. “Ma’am, they’ve breached the surveillance network in the eastern quadrant. We’re blind.”

Maria slammed her hands on the table and cursed under her breath. “Damn it.” Natasha stepped closer. “We don’t have time to debate this. You need help, Maria. And you know it.” Maria stared at her. “Even if I agreed, why her? Why would she agree to this?” Natasha hesitated, her jaw tightening. “Because she’s already involved.” Maria frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s the one who gave us the tip about the camera.” Natasha admitted. “She’s brilliant, completely unassuming, but she knows things. I think- no, I know she’s exactly the type of person who could have designed this encryption herself.” Maria shook her head. “You’re taking a huge risk.”

Natasha’s voice softened. “If this fails, it’s my responsibility. But if we don’t try, we’ll lose this fight. And we can’t afford that.” Maria sighed and rubbed her temples. “Fine. But if this backfires, you’re the one taking the fall.”

Natasha found you in your usual spot at the café, your laptop open and your fingers flying across the keyboard. You paused when you saw her approaching, your eyes widening slightly. “This is becoming a habit..” you said with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Natasha dropped into the chair across from you, her expression serious. “I don’t have time chatting this time, we need your help.” You tilted your head, trying to look confused. “With what?”Natasha leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “My team’s systems have been compromised. Surveillance feeds, encrypted communication..they’ve all been affected by some sort of evolving encryption. We can’t crack it.” You raised an intrigued eyebrow. “And you think I can?”

“You’ve already proven you can.” Natasha said firmly. “The sniper incident..if it weren’t for you, we’d have walked right into an ambush. You see things my team doesn’t, and I’m not too proud to admit it.” You tried to appear hesitant. She’s taken the bait. “Natasha, I’m just a freelancer..I’ve never worked on anything of this scale before.”

“I trust you.” Natasha said, her voice steady. “And I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” You swallowed, the sincerity in Natasha’s eyes tightening something in your chest. Stick to the plan, you reminded yourself. Finally, you nodded. “Okay, I’ll help.”

You entered the command tent under Natasha’s watchful eye, feeling the weight of every officer’s gaze on you. Maria was waiting at the workstation, her expression skeptical but resigned. “You must be Y/n.” Maria said, gesturing toward the monitors. “Show us what you can do.”

The professor’s words echoed in your head: “Stay calm. You’re one of them now. Look nervous, but not too nervous. Don’t let their chaos overwhelm you, control it.” But as you ventured deeper into the tent, it became harder to ignore the efficiency and organization of the police. Large maps of the bank were spread across tables, officers compared information, and intercepted radio transmissions flashed on the screens.

Your eyes landed on a monitor, and your breath caught. Names. Two names. Tokyo. Rio. The police had already identified two members of the crew. You froze for a moment, your thoughts racing. How? How could they already know their names? And why didn’t you know about this?

Natasha noticed your hesitation and approached with a clipboard in hand. “Y/n?” she said, her tone firm but not unfriendly. “Is everything okay?” You blinked and snapped out of your daze. Forcing a small smile onto your face, you said, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just..a lot.” Natasha’s eyes softened slightly. “It’s overwhelming, I know. You’re walking into a warzone here, and this isn’t an easy place to be.”

You nodded quickly, doing your best to play the role of an overwhelmed civilian. “It’s just..I didn’t expect it to be this serious. Seeing all of this..” Natasha gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re doing great. Just focus on your part. We’ll handle the rest.” You nodded again, but your stomach churned. Your nerves weren’t entirely an act anymore. The reality of standing in the enemy’s camp, surrounded by people working tirelessly to unravel the professor’s plan, hit you harder than you’d anticipated.

You sat down at a workstation, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. You had to stay on course, complete your task without raising suspicion. But your thoughts kept drifting back to the screens with Tokyo and Rio’s names. If they were already so close to those two, how much longer before they found the rest? Natasha stood nearby, her presence both comforting and unsettling. You could feel her watchful gaze on you, her concern growing with every passing second. “You’re doing great.” Natasha said quietly, crouching beside you.

You forced a weak smile, your voice shaky. “Thanks.”The professor had arranged a distraction inside the bank, chaos that was meant to make your role as a nervous civilian more believable. The crew was supposed to fire shots into the air, throwing the police into panic and creating the perfect diversion for you to finish your task. But you were so lost in your own thoughts that you’d completely forgotten about the plan. When the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the tent’s speakers, you flinched violently, your eyes widening in genuine fear.

Natasha frowned, her expression sharp. “Shots fired inside the bank!” she said grimly, grabbing a radio. “We need visuals on the situation, now!” Your heart raced, your mind screaming at you to get a grip. It’s the plan. It’s part of the plan. But the sound of the gunfire had shaken you to your core. You were too close to the enemy, too exposed. For the first time, the weight of what you were doing, the danger you were in hit you fully. Natasha noticed your trembling hands and pale face. “Hey..” she said gently, stepping closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

“I..I’m sorry..” you stammered, your voice breaking. “I just…it startled me, that’s all.” Natasha’s expression softened, her concern deepening. “This isn’t something most people are prepared for.” she said quietly. “You’re doing more than we could ever ask of you. But if it’s too much, you can stop. No one would blame you.”

“No.” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I can do this. I just need..a minute.” Natasha hesitated, then nodded. “Take all the time you need.” As you tried to steady your breathing, Natasha watched you closely, her own thoughts racing. She admired your bravery. Walking into such a dangerous situation as a civilian was no small feat. You looked up and caught Natasha watching you. “What?”

“Nothing.” Natasha said quickly, forcing a small smile. “I…I just admire your courage.” You blinked, surprised. “Courage?” Natasha nodded. “Most people wouldn’t put themselves in a situation like this. You could’ve said no when I asked. But you didn’t. That says a lot about you.” You swallowed hard, guilt churning in your stomach. “Thank you..” you murmured, turning your gaze away.

Eventually, you regained your composure, finished your task, and planted the necessary code into the police’s system. But as you left the tent, Natasha’s words echoed in your mind. “You could’ve said no. But you didn’t.” You had just led Natasha directly into the trap, exactly as the professor had planned. But for the first time, you began to wonder if the cost of the plan was too high. Your hands hovered over the keyboard as you pressed the final key, and the tent filled with the sound of systems coming back online. The previously chaotic screens now displayed a smoothly functioning network.

Natasha, standing nearby, let out a deep breath, visibly relieved. “You did it.” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. You forced a small smile, but inside, your heart was racing. The professor’s instructions had been clear: “Plant the backdoor. Subtly, cleanly. Once you’re out, we’ll have access to everything.” That’s exactly what you’d done. The professor now had ears inside the tent, but you couldn’t let your relief show on your face.

Natasha approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. “That was incredible work, Y/n. I don’t know how you did it.”

“I’m just glad I could help.” you said, trying to sound humble. Quickly, you packed up your laptop, eager to escape the suffocating tension in the tent. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, Natasha stepped in front of you, her green eyes softer. “You’ve been through a lot today..” she said. “More than anyone in your position should have to.” You looked around nervously. “I’m fine.”

Natasha frowned slightly. “I don’t think you are.” She paused, her voice turning gentler. “How about some fresh air? A walk. After all this, you could use a distraction.” You hesitated. You weren’t sure if being alone with Natasha was a good idea. But her gaze was honest, her concern disarming. Finally, you nodded. “Okay.”

Natasha smiled and led you out of the tent. The two of you walked along a quiet path in a nearby park, the tension of the command tent slowly fading behind you. The fresh air was a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the tent, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze softening. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked away, guilt twisting in your chest. You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth, you thought. You stopped at a bench near a cluster of trees, the calm of the night settling around you. Natasha sat down and gestured for you to join her. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by distant sirens and rustling leaves. “You were really scared in there..” Natasha said quietly, turning to you. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Hearing those gunshots…it was real. I’ve never been that close to something so…dangerous.”

Natasha’s expression softened further. “You never get used to it.” she admitted. “But it’s also not something you should have to go through.” You looked at her, the genuine concern in her eyes tightening something in your chest. “Why do you care so much?” you asked before you could stop yourself. Natasha blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You hesitated. “You barely know me. But you’re going out of your way to make sure I’m okay.” Natasha’s gaze dropped for a moment before meeting yours again, her expression unreadable. “Because I see that you’re a good person.” she said simply. “And because I’ve been where you are, thrown into something I didn’t ask for, feeling like I had to prove myself.”

As the two of you continued walking, the conversation grew more relaxed. Natasha shared stories about the less glamorous parts of her job, staking out warehouses in freezing temperatures, dealing with endless bureaucracy, and the time an overeager recruit accidentally locked her in a supply closet. You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in hours. “You make it sound so… glamorous.”

Natasha grinned. “Oh, it’s every little girl’s dream. Dodging bullets, endless paperwork, terrible coffee. What more could you want?” You shook your head, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I can’t believe you’re actually human.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to maintain.” By the time you returned to the tent, you felt more at ease but also more conflicted. Natasha’s kindness and humor had broken through your defenses, leaving you questioning your role in the heist.

As Natasha held the tent flap open for you, she smiled. “You were amazing today, Y/n. Really.” You nodded, your throat tight. “Thanks. I… you know where to find me.”

————————————————————————

The bell above the café door jingled, pulling you back to the present. It was already late at night, and you were back in your usual corner. Her shift had gone on longer than you’d expected…You glanced up casually, expecting another late-night coffee addict. Instead, your eyes narrowed slightly when you recognized the woman who walked in.

Maria.

You remembered her from the command tent. Sharp and authoritative, someone who missed no details. What was she doing here at this hour? Your curiosity flared as Maria approached the counter, ordered a coffee, and then sat in a secluded corner. Her posture was casual, but you noticed her eyes scanning the room, as if assessing potential threats..or watching someone.

You barely paid Maria any attention until she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Something about her body language shifted..relaxed, but not entirely. Whoever was on the other end was clearly someone she trusted. Ever the opportunist, you opened your laptop and connected to the café’s public Wi-Fi. A few quick keystrokes later, you intercepted Maria’s phone signal. A faint hum played through your headphones as you tapped into the call..curiosity had won. The connection stabilized, and a voice came through that made your breath hitch.

Natasha.

“Hey..” Natasha said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey…” Maria replied warmly. “Still in?”

“Yep…” Natasha sighed with a light laugh. Your fingers froze on the keyboard. What the hell? You hadn’t expected a private, casual conversation. You should disconnect. You should. But your curiosity burned too brightly. A pause followed, a familiar silence that hinted at a shared history. You frowned slightly and leaned closer to your screen.

“How are things? We haven’t really had time to talk lately.” Natasha asked, her voice quieter now.

“Well… I miss it, honestly…talking to you all the time, I mean. It feels like old times.” Maria replied.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately, and you heard the faint sound of her shifting in her chair. “Maria…”

Maria chuckled softly. “Relax, Nat. I’m not trying to stir anything up. I just wanted to check on you.”

An uneasy feeling churned in your stomach. You knew you were intruding on something deeply personal, but you couldn’t stop listening.

“I noticed something today..” Maria began cautiously but firmly. “That girl you brought into the tent…You’re spending quite a bit of time with her. And guess who’s sitting a few tables away from me?” A pause followed before Natasha answered, her voice sharper. “Wait…”

“She’s here. Midnight. Alone.” Natasha’s sharp intake of breath was audible. “You can see her?”

“Yes.” Maria said, her tone softening. “And before you say anything-no, I’m not going to approach her. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

“What?” Natasha began, but her voice faltered. She exhaled sharply, her tone shifting. “Maria, she’s been through a lot today.” Natasha said quietly. “And she’s helping us.”

“She’s helping you.” Maria corrected, her voice gentle but firm. “You brought her into the team. You’re the one spending all this time with her.”

Natasha sighed softly, almost as if she’d expected this. “Can we stop talking about this? I know where this is going…”

Maria’s voice softened. “Fine. Then I’ll just ask outright. Do you want to sleep with her?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly covering your mouth to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You glanced at Maria, who was still sitting calmly, completely unaware of the chaos she’d just caused. “Maria, seriously-”

“You’re not denying it…” Maria teased, her tone playful.

Your first instinct was to disconnect, but your hand hovered over the keyboard, frozen. This is too much. I shouldn’t be listening…But your curiosity won out. You leaned back slightly, guilt rising in your chest. I shouldn’t be here. But… I want to know…

A long pause followed. Natasha exhaled slowly. “You’re using the wrong word.”

“What do you mean?” Maria asked, confused.

“‘Sleep.’” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “That sounds like a one-night stand. Like something meaningless.”

Maria chuckled softly, though it sounded sad. “And you want more than that?”

“Yeah..why not.” Natasha admitted, her voice steady but vulnerable. “If I were with her, it wouldn’t just be that. She’s not someone you just ‘sleep’ with.”

Your head spun, Natasha’s words echoing in your mind. She doesn’t want something meaningless. She wants… something more? Your heart fluttered, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat. She’s not someone you just sleep with. Those words felt both impossibly heavy and surprisingly light. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a grin. Stop acting like a teenager! This isn’t normal! But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest, or the guilt of eavesdropping on something so personal.

“Just be careful, Nat…” Maria said quietly. “That kind of trust is hard to earn. And if you’re not careful, it’ll hurt both of you.”

“I know.” Natasha replied, her voice firm but tinged with emotion. “Thanks for caring, Maria. But I’ve got this.”

Maria sighed, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight.” Natasha said, and the line went dead.

The connection ended, leaving you sitting there, completely stunned. You leaned back in your chair, staring at your laptop as if it might explode at any moment. Your cheeks burned, and your mind raced, replaying Natasha’s hesitant “Yeah..why not” over and over. What the hell just happened? you thought, running a hand through your hair. You’d hacked into Maria’s phone for a tactical advantage, not…whatever this was!

Natasha Romanoff wants to be with me?

Your thoughts shattered as Maria stood up and began walking toward you. You froze, your breath catching. She knows. She figured it out! I’m done for. Maria stopped at your table, her sharp eyes studying you closely. You gripped the edge of your laptop, your heart pounding so loudly you thought it might burst. “Everything okay?” Maria asked, her voice softer than you’d expected. “You’re here alone at midnight. That’s…unusual.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I’m fine!” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I…I’m just working.” Maria studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. Take care of yourself.” She turned and walked away, leaving you frozen in place, your head still spinning.

Meanwhile the activity in the command tent began to wind down for the night. Officers moved between desks, and the soft hum of conversations filled the air. Natasha leaned against a table scattered with files, her arms crossed as she studied the timeline of the heist on the main screen. Yet her thoughts weren’t entirely on the case. Maria’s words from earlier replayed in her mind, “She’s here. At midnight. Alone. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

Natasha sighed quietly, running a hand through her hair. Maria wasn’t wrong. You were always alone, and Natasha couldn’t shake the image of you sitting in that café, typing on your laptop as if you had nowhere else to be. It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t fully explain, and Maria’s direct question only made it worse.

“Why is she so important to you?”

Natasha pushed off the table as the commander signaled the end of the shift for the night. It was late, and most of the team members were heading home. Normally, Natasha would stay longer, but tonight she felt the urge to leave. You listened through your earpiece and when you heard the commander announce the end of the shift, you exhaled in relief. Finally. Natasha was leaving the tent, which meant you could leave too.

You started packing your things, sliding your laptop into your bag as you prepared to leave. The familiar chime of the doorbell froze you mid-motion. Your heart sank as you saw who had just walked in. Natasha stepped into the café, her eyes scanning the room quickly before landing on you. Her expression softened slightly as she approached, her movements deliberate but calm.

You froze, your bag only half-closed. Your heart pounded as Natasha closed the distance between you, her presence overwhelming even in casual clothes. “Hi.” Natasha said, her voice warm but tinged with concern. You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Natasha? What are you doing here?” Natasha slid into the seat across from you, propping her elbows on the table. “I could ask you the same thing. I just got off work. Thought I’d check on you.”

“Again?” you laughed, your nervousness slipping into your tone. Natasha tilted her head slightly, studying you. “You’re always here late. Alone. That doesn’t seem right to me.” You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table. She’s noticed. She’s been paying attention.. “I…I like working at night. I’m fine, really.” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. Natasha raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What does she want me to say? You looked down at your hands, fiddling nervously with your bag strap. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” Natasha said gently. “It’s midnight. Most people your age are either at home or out with friends. Why are you always here?” Your chest tightened. Natasha’s tone wasn’t accusatory. It was gentle, caring, and that made it even harder to deflect. You felt the weight of her gaze, the genuine concern in her eyes. “I… I just like it here.” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing.”

Natasha sighed, leaning back slightly. “I’m not trying to pry. But you shouldn’t be here alone so late.” You looked at her, your stomach twisting. She thinks I’m alone because I have no one. She’s not entirely wrong, but the real reason is so much more complicated.. “Come with me.” Natasha said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. You blinked, your eyes widening. “W-What?”

“Come with me.” Natasha repeated, her gaze steady. “To my place. You shouldn’t be here alone this late.” Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest. Go with her? To her place? I can’t. You shook your head quickly, your voice stumbling. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, her tone calm but insistent. “You’ll be safe. You can bring your work if you want. But I don’t want to leave you here.”

“I..” You hesitated, your mind spiraling. What if she’s testing me? What if it’s a trap? Natasha leaned across the table, her hand brushing yours lightly. “Please..” she said softly. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe.” You stared at her, the sincerity in Natasha’s voice making your chest ache. She doesn’t know. She has no idea who I really am. She’s just…worried. “Okay..” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’ll come with you.”

Natasha’s apartment was exactly what you’d expected..minimalistic yet elegant, with clean lines and an undeniable sense of order. The open-concept living room was softly lit, a bottle of red wine sat on the counter, and the faint scent of cedar lingered in the air. The space felt personal yet guarded, much like the woman herself.

You stood awkwardly near the couch, unsure of where to put your hands or your thoughts. This wasn’t where you’d ever imagined yourself, and the thought of what might happen here made your stomach twist with nerves. Natasha, however, seemed completely at ease, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. “Make yourself comfortable.” she said, her voice calm yet warm, catching you off guard. “Want something to drink?”

“Uh…no, thanks.” you replied quickly, your nerves making you sound more jittery than you intended. Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you, her lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Relax. I don’t bite.” You managed a weak laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “That’s…good to know.”

Natasha chuckled softly as she settled onto the couch with a grace that seemed effortless. She grabbed the remote and gestured for you to join her. “Come on. Sit. I thought we could watch something.” You hesitated for a moment before walking over and sinking into the cushion next to her. Not too close, but not too far. Natasha noticed and smiled to herself but said nothing.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked, scrolling through streaming options. “Action? Comedy? Something completely ridiculous?” You shrugged, trying to focus on her question instead of the growing tension in your chest. “Something light, I guess. Nothing too intense.”

“Alright.” Natasha said, selecting a movie and setting the remote aside. She leaned back, draping her arm over the back of the couch, close enough for you to feel the faint warmth of her skin. The movie started, the sound filling the quiet space, but you found it hard to focus on the screen.

Fifteen minutes in, you were acutely aware of every detail about Natasha..her presence, her proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume. She sat close enough that her arm occasionally brushed yours, and you felt her gaze on you now and then. You tried to concentrate on the movie, but your thoughts kept wandering. Why had she invited you here? Was this just her way of unwinding, or was there something..more? The possibility made your heart race.

Then you felt it…her hand on your shoulder. At first, it was a light touch that could’ve been accidental. But then her fingers curled slightly, her palm resting firmly on your shoulder, and you realized it wasn’t a mistake. You froze slightly, your breath hitching. Natasha noticed immediately. “You look like you’re waiting for something to explode.” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Maybe I am.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be so tense.”

Just her. That was the problem. It wasn’t just her! It was her. Natasha Romanoff: sharp, confident, undeniably alluring. You had no idea how you’d ended up here, in her apartment, watching a movie, feeling like the ground beneath you had completely shifted. “I know.” you murmured, trying to steady your voice. “I… just…”

Natasha leaned closer, her hand sliding from your shoulder lightly down your arm. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You know that, right?” You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course!” For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the movie filling the space between you. The way she looked at you, with a mix of amusement and something warmer, softer made your breath catch. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I’m not good at this.” Natasha tilted her head, her smile returning. “Not good at what?”

“This..” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Being here. With you. It’s…I don’t know. You make it hard to think straight.” For a moment, Natasha just stared at you, and you felt your cheeks heat. But then she laughed, a soft, genuine laugh that made your stomach flip. “That’s cute.” she said, her tone carrying a playful edge. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m not-” you began, but the look she gave you stopped your denial mid-sentence. “Okay, maybe a little.” Natasha’s smile softened. “Why?” she asked, her voice quiet but genuinely curious. “Why does this make you nervous?” You hesitated, your heart racing as you searched for the right words. “Because…it’s you..” you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You’re…I don’t know. You’re intimidating. I-In a good way! And I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with…this kind of thing.” Natasha leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the back of the couch as she turned toward you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure..” you said, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. “Why does this make you so uneasy?” she asked gently, her voice devoid of teasing now. “Is it exactly me? Or…something else?” You hesitated, your heart pounding as you considered your answer. “It’s not you..” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “It’s…I guess it’s just that this feels… different.”

“Different how?” Natasha pressed, though her tone remained careful, as if she didn’t want to push too hard. “Like… I don’t know!! Like it matters..” you admitted, your cheeks flushing. “And that scares me.” Natasha’s expression softened further, her gaze searching yours. “I don’t want to scare you.” she said quietly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You don’t.” you said quickly. “It’s just…I don’t really know what I’m doing here.” Natasha studied you for a long moment, as if weighing her next move carefully. Then she spoke, her voice low and steady. “Would you tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable?” You nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Natasha said, exhaling softly. She shifted slightly closer, her hand resting gently on the back of the couch. “Because I want to kiss you. But only if you want me to.” Your breath caught, her words sending a wave of nervous excitement through you. You stared at her, your heart racing as you processed what she’d said. “I’ve never-” Natasha cut in gently, her tone steady. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

But something in her patience, in the way she didn’t push or demand, made you take a shaky breath and nod. “I think I want to..” you said softly. Natasha didn’t move immediately, her eyes staying locked on yours. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but sincere. Only then did she lean in, her movements slow and deliberate, giving you every opportunity to change your mind. When her lips finally met yours, it was soft, so soft that it left you breathless. Her hand cupped your cheek gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as if to steady you.

The kiss was unhurried, warm, and filled with a tenderness that surprised you. You felt yourself relax into it, your nervousness melting away as you kissed her back. Natasha pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, her forehead resting lightly against yours. “You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah..” Her lips curved into a smile of her own, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Good.” she murmured. She leaned in again, her hand remained on your cheek. The connection was both electrifying and calming, as if nothing else in the world mattered except for this.

But just as the kiss began to deepen, Natasha pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against yours. Her breath was warm, and her voice was soft but resolute. “We should stop..” she said gently. You opened your eyes, looking at her. “Why?”

Natasha gave you a faint smile, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Because you’ve had a long day. And because I don’t want this to feel rushed. For either of us.” You bit your lip, your cheeks heating again. “You think I’m not ready?”

“I think you’re nervous.” Natasha replied honestly. “And I don’t want you to feel like we have to go anywhere tonight. We don’t.” Her words felt like a weight lifting off your chest. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t pressuring you, she was giving you space, something you hadn’t even realized you needed. “Thank you.” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Natasha tilted her head, her smile softening. “For what?”

“For being patient with me.” you admitted, your cheeks flushing again. Her smile grew softer still, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest.” she said quietly. “You’ve earned it.” Natasha stood, walking into the kitchen and pouring you a glass of water. After a moment, she returned and set it on the coffee table in front of you. “You can take the bed.” she said as she settled back onto the couch. “I’ll sleep here.” Your eyes widened. “What? No! This is your apartment.”

“Exactly.” Natasha replied with a playful glint in her eye. “And I’m saying you take the bed. No arguments.” You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse..” Natasha said with a smirk. The playful exchange eased your nerves further, and you found yourself smiling as you stood and stretched. “Fine. But if you wake up with a sore neck, don’t blame me.” Natasha laughed, her gaze following you as you headed toward the bedroom door. “Goodnight.” she said softly.

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at her. “Goodnight, Natasha.” As you stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, you let out a shaky breath. Your heart was still racing, and your mind replayed the kiss over and over, but there was also a warmth in your chest, a quiet comfort in knowing she understood. That she wasn’t rushing you or asking for more than you were ready to give. You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a small smile on your lips. You hadn’t expected any of this, hadn’t seen it coming..but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as terrifying as you’d thought..

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader

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harryssyndrome · 1 month ago

Text

The Red Key | h.s (AU)

summery: When a rogue agent threatens global security with a deadly bioweapon known as Red Key, two operatives-Harry and YN-are drawn into a high-stakes mission where trust is fragile and betrayal cuts deep. YN, hiding her true identity behind a glamorous cover, must get close to a man from her past, while Harry races against time to stop a looming catastrophe. As the lines between duty and desire blur, the duo must outwit a cunning enemy and confront secrets that could destroy everything.

word count: 2.8k || Masterlist 🔫❤️‍🔥

A/N: Felt a little inspired by mission impossible II so why no 😌 I hope it’s nice little thing to read😅 warning? not proofread. It’s a mini series so a part or two. I’m sorry if it’s shit, I tried my best. my life’s a mess so… I’m not at my best, I’m posting after so long. it’s been in my draft for months, I promise dadrry are better. Like & reblog are appreciated, let me know if you wanna be added to the tag-list, feel free to leave comments. Mwah! 💋

Tag-list: @wheredidmyeyesgo @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @cherryloveshs @harryyloverrr | Tag-list is OPEN || Request are OPEN

The grandeur of the gala was designed to impress. The sprawling ballroom was a display of unapologetic wealth, with every detail meticulously curated to reflect the stature of its host. From the cascading crystal chandeliers that bathed the room in a soft golden glow to the opulent red-and-gold tapestries adorning the walls, everything screamed excess. Waiters moved like shadows, weaving seamlessly through the crowd with silver trays balanced expertly in their hands. Glasses of champagne and delicate hors d’oeuvres passed from tray to guest in a rhythm as choreographed as the string quartet’s melody.

YN stood near one of the massive arched windows, her reflection a shimmering silhouette against the night. Her dress—a figure-hugging gown of midnight blue sequins—caught the light with every subtle movement, transforming her into a walking constellation. She looked every bit the rising singer she claimed to be, her soft smile and easy confidence drawing glances from all corners of the room.

But beneath the surface, her mind was focused and sharp. This wasn’t her world—no, it was her stage. And tonight, her performance was a heist.

Her mission was clear: retrieve the Red Key. Hidden somewhere in this labyrinthine estate was a device that could destabilize the world’s balance of power. The encrypted USB, codenamed the Red Key, housed a revolutionary program capable of dismantling even the most secure systems. For YN, this wasn’t just a job—it was a gamble. The paycheck was astronomical, enough to wipe away her debts and buy her freedom. But failure? Failure meant more than just losing her reputation—it meant death.

As YN surveyed the room, she felt the weight of her double life settle heavily on her shoulders. On the surface, she was a singer—a talent just beginning to garner whispers of fame. Her soulful voice and enigmatic stage presence had made her a subject of intrigue in elite circles. But in reality, her music was a façade, a clever cover that granted her access to places like this. She wasn’t here to perform. She was here to steal.

Her target was Lord Carlisle, the eccentric billionaire hosting the gala. Known for his insatiable appetite for collecting rare and dangerous artifacts, Carlisle was rumored to have acquired the Red Key through the black market. It was locked away in his private server room, and YN had spent months studying the estate’s layout to plan her approach.

She sipped her champagne as her eyes roved over the crowd. Carlisle stood near the center of the room, surrounded by sycophants and admirers. His laughter boomed over the delicate strains of music, his booming voice a sharp contrast to the otherwise refined atmosphere. YN’s lips curved into a small, calculated smile.

The first step was simple: blend in.

YN wove through the crowd with practiced ease, exchanging polite smiles and nods with other guests. She stopped briefly to admire a display of Carlisle’s prized artifacts—ancient relics encased in glass—and engaged in small talk with a curator who seemed all too eager to share their knowledge. It was all part of the act.

But as she moved toward the east wing—the restricted area where the server room was hidden—a prickle of awareness crawled up her spine. Someone was watching her.

She turned her head just slightly, catching the gaze of a man leaning casually against the bar. His tailored black tuxedo fit him like a second skin, and his dark curls fell perfectly into place, framing a face that seemed carved from marble. But it was his eyes that held her attention—intense and unrelenting, like they could see straight through her.

She recognized him instantly. Harry Styles.

MI6’s golden boy.

Her stomach clenched. If Styles was here, the stakes were higher than she’d anticipated. MI6 didn’t send agents to fancy galas for no reason. They sent them to stop people like her.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and he raised his glass in a mock salute. His lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no mistaking the challenge in his gaze.

YN forced herself to return the smile, her mind racing. If Styles suspected her, she couldn’t afford to let it show. She turned away and resumed her path toward the east wing, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Nice voice,” a smooth voice interrupted her thoughts.

YN stopped mid-step, cursing inwardly. She turned slowly, schooling her features into an expression of mild curiosity.

Harry stood just a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his eyes razor-sharp. Up close, he was even more disarming, his presence exuding a quiet confidence that was impossible to ignore.

“You haven’t heard me sing yet,” she replied, her tone light and playful.

“I don’t need to. I have an ear for talent,” he said, raising his glass to her.

YN kept her smile intact, though her mind raced with contingency plans. “Good to know. But I should be going—people to meet, champagne to drink.”

“Of course. Don’t let me keep you,” he said, stepping aside with an almost imperceptible bow.

But as she walked away, she felt his eyes follow her, a constant weight pressing against her back.

The east wing was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the gala. August moved swiftly, her footsteps muffled by the plush red carpet. She reached the server room without incident, her fingers brushing over the keypad as she punched in the code she’d memorized.

The door clicked open, and she slipped inside.

The room was a technological fortress, lined with sleek black servers that hummed softly in the cool, climate-controlled air. YN pulled a decoy USB drive from her clutch—a fake designed to bypass the system’s defenses—and plugged it into the main console.

Her fingers danced over the keyboard as she navigated the system, bypassing layers of encryption with practiced ease. But just as she accessed the folder containing the Red Key, a voice shattered the silence.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Her blood ran cold. She spun around, her heart hammering in her chest.

Harry stood in the doorway, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His posture was relaxed, but his sharp gaze told her he wasn’t here to make small talk.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady despite the panic clawing at her throat.

“I could ask you the same,” he replied, stepping closer. “But I already know. You’re here for the Red Key.”

Her mind raced, calculating her options. She could lunge for the taser hidden in her clutch, but something told her he’d see it coming.

“And you’re here to stop me?” she asked, her tone edged with defiance.

“Not exactly.” He glanced at the flashing red light above the door. “You tripped a silent alarm when you accessed that panel. Guards will be here in less than a minute.”

She cursed under her breath. The system must have detected the decoy USB.

“Fine,” she said, stepping away from the console. “But this doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“Good,” he replied with a smirk. “I don’t trust you either.”

The escape was chaos.

The guards arrived in droves, their shouts echoing through the hallway as they fired warning shots. YN and Harry sprinted down the corridor, their movements perfectly synchronized despite the tension crackling between them.

“In here!” Harry barked, pulling her into a narrow service elevator.

The doors closed just as a hail of bullets slammed into the metal.

YN leaned against the wall, catching her breath. “This isn’t exactly how I planned my night.”

“Really? I thought you were enjoying yourself,” Harry quipped, adjusting his cufflinks as if they weren’t running for their lives.

She glared at him. “Don’t get used to this partnership.”

“Believe me, I won’t.”

The chase ended in the estate’s garage, where Harry hotwired a sleek black car with alarming ease.

“You’re full of surprises,” YN muttered as she slid into the passenger seat.

“You have no idea,” he replied, revving the engine.

The tires screeched as they sped out of the garage, leaving the estate and its chaos behind.

The car sped down a winding road that cut through a dense forest, the headlights slicing through the darkness. Harry’s hands gripped the steering wheel with practiced ease, his gaze focused on the road ahead. YN sat beside him, her arms crossed and jaw clenched, the tension between them palpable.

She broke the silence first. “You didn’t have to get involved, you know.”

Harry glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. “And let you fumble your way out of a shootout? Tempting, but no.”

“I had it under control,” she said, her tone sharp.

“You’re welcome,” he shot back, his voice tinged with amusement.

YN exhaled sharply, turning her gaze out the window. The forest blurred into streaks of black and green, but her mind was fixed on the mission. The Red Key had slipped through her fingers, and she wasn’t sure if she could salvage the situation. Worse, she was now tethered to Harry Styles, MI6’s golden boy, whose motives remained frustratingly opaque.

“Where are we going?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“To regroup,” Harry replied. “You’re not the only one who wants the Red Key, you know.”

YN frowned. “So, what’s your angle? You swoop in, play hero, and then what? Hand it over to your bosses so they can lock it up in some classified vault?”

Harry smirked. “Something like that.”

Her frown deepened. She couldn’t afford to let MI6 take control of the device—not when she was this close to securing her freedom. But for now, she needed Harry’s help to stay ahead of Carlisle’s men.

They reached a secluded safe house an hour later, a modest cabin hidden deep in the woods. Harry parked the car and stepped out, moving with the casual confidence of someone who’d done this a hundred times before.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, unlocking the door.

The interior was spartan but functional—a single-room space with a kitchenette, a worn sofa, and a desk cluttered with maps and surveillance equipment. YN took it all in with a raised brow.

“Charming,” she said dryly.

Harry ignored the jab, heading to the desk and pulling out a laptop. “We don’t have much time. Carlisle’s men will be searching for us, and they won’t stop until they recover the Red Key.”

YN crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So, what’s the plan?”

Harry looked up at her, his expression serious. “We work together.”

She scoffed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all,” he replied. “You’re good, but you’re not getting that device on your own. Carlisle has an army of guards and the best security money can buy. You need me.”

“And what’s in it for you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Harry leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.”

It wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but it would have to do.

As the night wore on, the two of them pored over the intel Harry had gathered on Carlisle’s estate. Blueprints, security codes, and surveillance footage littered the desk, creating a mosaic of the billionaire’s heavily fortified world.

“His private jet leaves tomorrow morning,” Harry said, pointing to a flight plan on the screen. “If he takes the Red Key with him, we’ll lose our chance to intercept it.”

YN frowned, tracing her finger over the estate’s layout. “Then we hit him tonight.”

Harry raised a brow. “Bold move.”

“Desperate times,” she replied with a shrug.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze unreadable. “You’re not what I expected,” he said finally.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. “And what did you expect?”

“Someone colder. Detached. But you… you’re different.”

YN’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Don’t let it fool you. I’m as dangerous as they come.”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Later, as they prepared for the mission, YN caught Harry watching her again.

“Something on your mind?” she asked, slipping a knife into her boot.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Why do you do it? The heists, the double life… What’s the endgame?”

She paused, considering her answer. “Freedom,” she said simply. “I’ve spent my whole life running—from debts, from mistakes, from people who wanted to control me. This job… it’s my way out.”

Harry nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Fair enough.”

“And what about you?” she countered. “Why MI6? Why risk your life for a government that probably sees you as expendable?”

His smile was faint, almost wistful. “Because someone has to. And I’m good at it.”

Their eyes met, a quiet understanding passing between them.

The mission began under the cover of darkness.

Harry and YN slipped back into Carlisle’s estate, their movements silent and precise. This time, they worked together seamlessly, their strengths complementing each other in ways neither had anticipated.

Harry disabled the perimeter alarms while YN picked the lock on a side entrance. Inside, they navigated the maze-like corridors with practiced ease, avoiding guards and security cameras with the skill of seasoned professionals.

At one point, they found themselves pressed against a wall, a pair of guards passing just inches away. YN could feel Harry’s breath against her ear, his presence both reassuring and distracting.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

When they finally reached Carlisle’s office, the tension was nearly unbearable.

The Red Key sat on his desk, a small but menacing device that seemed almost innocuous in its simplicity.

“Is that it?” YN asked, her voice low.

Harry nodded. “That’s it.”

She moved to grab it, but Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Wait,” he said, pointing to a faint red beam of light scanning the desk. “Laser tripwire. He’s not taking any chances.”

YN cursed under her breath. “Can you disable it?”

Harry smirked, pulling a small device from his pocket. “Watch and learn.”

The extraction was flawless—until it wasn’t.

As they exited the office, an alarm blared, shattering the silence. Carlisle’s men were on them in an instant, their shouts echoing through the halls.

“Go!” Harry shouted, shoving YN ahead of him.

They sprinted toward the exit, dodging bullets and ducking behind cover as the guards pursued them relentlessly.

When they finally reached the car, YN turned to Harry, her eyes blazing. “You planned this, didn’t you? You wanted the distraction!”

He didn’t deny it. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Before she could reply, the sound of approaching engines cut through the night. Carlisle’s men weren’t giving up without a fight

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paigesbasketball · 5 months ago

Text

Echos of The Fallen

Chapter 3: Crimson Heist Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader Warnings: A little firting but thats it

September 30th - 7:45 AM - G.U.N. Headquarters

The remnants of the explosion still hung in the air, the scent of charred metal and burnt rubber clinging to Shadow’s uniform as he stepped into the war room. The monitors on the walls flickered with the latest updates—feeds from the wreckage site, reports from analysts trying to piece together what little information they had. The entire building seemed to hum with tension, the weight of last night’s failure pressing down on everyone inside.

Rouge was already seated at the long metal table, idly examining her nails as she waited for him. Omega stood nearby, his mechanical frame motionless save for the occasional whir of servos adjusting his position. The moment Shadow entered, Rouge glanced up, arching a perfectly sculpted brow.

“Well, well,” she mused, tilting her head. “You look like hell.”

Shadow ignored her, dropping into the chair across from her and flicking open the latest intel file. “We lost her.” His voice was clipped, edged with irritation.

“No kidding.” Rouge smirked, leaning forward. “You let a woman get the best of you. Now that’s a first.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes narrowed. “She was ten steps ahead. The explosion was a diversion, and we took the bait.” His fingers drummed against the table, betraying his frustration. “She’s not just some rogue mercenary. She knows how we operate.”

Omega’s monotone voice rumbled to life. “RECOMMENDATION: TERMINATION OF TARGET UPON IDENTIFICATION.”

Rouge scoffed. “So dramatic. We don’t even know who she really is yet. ‘Danny’s wife’ doesn’t exactly lead us anywhere.”

Shadow turned the file toward her. “She’s connected to Cipher. That’s all we need to know.”

Rouge’s expression darkened slightly at the mention of the name. “So, Cipher’s making moves again. Last time he popped up, it took half of G.U.N.’s intelligence division to track down just one of his hideouts. If she’s working with him, she’s dangerous.”

“Obviously.” Shadow’s voice was tight. “The question is why. What does Cipher want with G.U.N.’s classified weapons project?”

Rouge shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Power? Leverage? Or maybe he’s just bored. But something tells me your little rooftop admirer is more than just an errand girl.”

Shadow frowned. “What do you mean?”

Rouge’s smirk returned, playful and knowing. “She could’ve killed you last night, but she didn’t.”

Shadow remained silent, his jaw tightening. He had considered that already. The explosion had been designed to wound, to scatter forces, not to kill. If she had truly wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have left it to chance.

Omega interrupted the thought. “QUERY: NEXT COURSE OF ACTION?”

Shadow pushed the file toward the center of the table. “We find her. We stop her. No more games.”

September 30th - 10:12 PM - Underground Safehouse

The glow of multiple monitors bathed the dimly lit room in a soft blue hue, casting flickering shadows against the exposed concrete walls. The safehouse was tucked beneath the remnants of an abandoned subway station, far from prying eyes.

I sat in front of the main screen, scanning through lines of encrypted data as Zero worked his magic on the G.U.N. servers. The room was filled with the soft clacking of keys, the occasional beeping of software processes running in the background. Scar stood near the entrance, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between me and the screens.

“G.U.N. is scrambling,” Zero announced, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “They’ve got teams sweeping the city, but they’re running in circles.”

Scar smirked. “Shadow must be pissed.”

I didn’t react, my eyes still focused on the data. “Let him be. It won’t change anything.”

Zero’s hands stilled for a moment, his brow furrowing. “Hold up... This is new.”

I leaned forward. “What?”

He pulled up a series of documents, most of them redacted, but one detail stood out. A shipment manifest. Destination: G.U.N. Research Facility - Grid Sector Seven. Contents: Prototype X-09.

Scar whistled lowly. “Well, that sounds interesting.”

I exhaled slowly, my mind racing. “That’s what Carson was talking about.”

Zero nodded. “Whatever X-09 is, they’re keeping it locked down tight. I can't seem to find information on it. If G.U.N. wants it then that just makes it automatically bad.”

I tapped my fingers against my arm, calculating the next steps. “Then we move first. we break into the G.U.N. bank and steal some of their assets so they will be unable to fund this project anymore"

Scar raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? If we intercept, we’ll be putting ourselves directly in Shadow’s path.”

A part of me hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. Then I pushed the thought aside. “Let him come. this time he won't know I know his turf.”

Zero cracked his knuckles, already preparing the next phase of the operation. “Then let’s get to work.”

Viper stood up, stretching her arms. "Alright, I’m grabbing food. Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone."

She slammed the door behind her, making the walls shake slightly. Nova immediately huffed, turning toward the door with an irritated glare. "Can you not? I’m working on an experiment!"

Viper’s voice called from the hallway, "Oh, I’m sorry, Princess! Didn’t mean to disrupt your evil genius time."

Nova scoffed. "At least I actually use my brain."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Guys, let’s be real. Unless you’re both on your period, let’s not bicker like this."

Nova shot me a glare, and Viper's laughter echoed from down the hall. "You wish, sweetheart!"

I smirked but turned back to the screens, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. The banter was familiar, almost comforting, but the weight of our situation pressed heavy on my mind. G.U.N. was moving fast, and we didn’t have time to waste.

Zero leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply. "You really think we can pull this off?"

I didn’t answer right away, my eyes scanning over the shipment details. The security routes, the escort patterns—it was tight, but not impenetrable.

"We don’t have a choice," I finally said. "I do not trust them to have that weapon"

Scar crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "And what happens when Shadow shows up?"

A beat of silence filled the room. That was the real problem. Shadow wasn’t like the grunts G.U.N. usually sent after us. He didn’t make mistakes. He didn’t let people slip through his fingers twice.

I exhaled. "Then we adapt."

The tension settled in the air, thick and unspoken. This wasn’t just another job—this was a battle waiting to happen.

The door creaked open again, and Viper strolled back in, holding a bag of takeout. "Alright, nerds, eat up. If we’re gonna risk our lives in forty-eight hours, you might as well not do it on an empty stomach."

Nova snatched the bag from her hands. "Finally, you’re useful for something."

Viper smirked. "Careful, Princess. Keep talking like that, and I might ‘accidentally’ forget your order next time."

As they bickered, I stared at the screens, the blueprint of the G.U.N. transport route flashing in front of me. This was it. The moment we made our move, there was no turning back.

I clenched my jaw, determination settling in.

We had forty-eight hours to pull off the impossible.

And failure wasn’t an option.

1:45 AM – G.U.N. Financial Holdings, Downtown

Everything had been going smoothly—too smoothly. Scar and I had just finished loading the last of the stolen assets into our bags when a sharp, high-pitched beep cut through the silence.

"Tell me that wasn’t you," Scar muttered.

I looked down at my wrist device, where a flashing red warning glowed across the screen. Silent alarm triggered.

"Shit," I hissed. "We need to move—now."

We bolted for the exit, weaving through the dimly lit corridors of the underground vault. But as we reached the stairwell, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the space. Heavy. Coordinated. Armed.

Scar gritted her teeth. "They’re fast."

"They’re G.U.N.," I shot back. "Of course they are."

We reached the main hall just as the security doors slammed shut behind us. A single figure stepped through the haze of flashing red lights. Black and red. Sharp crimson eyes locked onto mine.

Shadow.

Behind him, his team—Rouge and Omega—stood ready, blocking the only other exit.

"You really thought you could just waltz in and take what you wanted?" Shadow’s voice was low, measured, but there was an edge of irritation in it. "You’re getting sloppy."

Scar and I exchanged glances before moving in opposite directions. Shadow’s eyes flicked between us, assessing. Calculating.

"Take them," he ordered.

Rouge lunged for Scar while Omega charged forward, aiming straight for me. I dodged, ducking behind a pillar as his massive arm smashed through it like it was paper.

As Omega charged toward me, I tried to dodge his powerful swing again, but this time I had a better idea.

"Geez, Omega, you ever think about toning it down?" I taunted, hoping to get under his circuits. He growled in response, tightening his grip.

"NEGATIVE," Omega boomed, his voice full of pure mechanical rage. "FULL DESTRUCTION MODE ENGAGED."

I couldn’t avoid his next hit in time, so I took a deep breath, waiting for the right moment. Omega swung harder, and this time, his fist collided with a wall near Rouge, sending debris flying everywhere.

A vulnerable moment.

Before he could adjust, I whipped out a small device from my belt. With a quick motion, I slapped it onto Omega's back. The device activated with a small electric buzz, sending a surge of energy into his system, causing his circuits to short-circuit and his movements to freeze.

Omega's massive frame shuddered, and his body froze in place. The once-booming voice became erratic. "ERROR. SYSTEM MALFUNCTION..."

I gave a sly grin. "Guess I’ll have to remind you how to play nice."

I turned just in time to see Shadow coming for me. Fast. I barely managed to block his first strike, but the sheer force sent me skidding back. He was relentless, each blow more precise than the last.

He feinted left before sweeping my legs out from under me. Before I could react, I was flat on my back, Shadow pinning me down, one knee pressing into my ribs, his hand gripping my wrist.

I struggled, but he didn’t budge. "Give it up," he said. "You’re done."

My mind raced. I needed a distraction. Something to throw him off—just for a second.

I locked eyes with him, smirking. "You gonna kiss me or something, handsome?"

Shadow’s expression flickered. Just for a second. A flash of confusion.

That was all I needed.

I drove my knee into his stomach, making him grunt in surprise. Using the momentum, I twisted us around, grabbing a pair of cuffs from my belt. Before he could recover, I snapped them around his wrist and slammed the other end to a reinforced pipe. The cuffs magnetized instantly, locking him in place.

His eyes widened slightly as he tested the restraints.

I grinned. "Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to be so easy to trap."

Shadow glared at me, but there was the faintest trace of pink on his face.

Scar broke free from Rouge’s grip, sprinting toward me. "We need to go!"

I pulled a smoke bomb from my belt, slamming it against the ground. Thick clouds engulfed the room, obscuring everything.

"See you around, handsome," I teased, before grabbing Scar’s wrist and making a break for the exit.

We darted through the emergency hatch we had scoped out earlier, leaving chaos in our wake. The sound of Shadow yanking at the cuffs and Omega’s booming voice echoed behind us, but we were already gone, disappearing into the night.

2:30 AM – Warehouse Hideout

We crashed through the doors, breathless, adrenaline still surging through our veins.

Zero looked up from his laptop. "I take it things didn’t go as planned?"

Scar dropped her bag onto the table, grinning. "Oh, it went great. Got the goods, fought Shadow, and someone got a little flirty mid-fight."

I rolled my eyes, slumping into a chair. "It was a tactical distraction."

Scar snorted. "Sure it was."

Viper raised an eyebrow. "Wait—you flirted with Shadow?"

Nova nearly choked on her drink. "Hold on, back up. Shadow the Hedgehog?"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I’m going to regret this later."

Scar smirked, kicking her feet up onto the table. "Maybe. But for now? Totally worth it."

3:00 AM – G.U.N. Financial Holdings, Downtown

Shadow's POV

The smoke was thick, the echoes of their escape still ringing in my ears. I yanked futilely at the cuffs, feeling the cold metal dig into my wrist. They were designed to hold even the strongest, and for once, it seemed they might have me. But I didn’t have time to waste on my restraints. I had a bigger problem on my hands.

Omega was down, his system glitching from whatever trick that woman had pulled on him. He was muttering about malfunctions as Rouge approached me, her footsteps sharp and mocking.

“Well, that was quite the show, Shadow,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to ignore the frustration bubbling inside me. “Save it, Rouge.”

She leaned in closer, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Not so tough when you're distracted, huh? You got all flustered with her little stunt. Was that... flirtation? You know, I’ve seen you fight harder. Looks like someone’s got a soft spot.”

I could feel my pulse spike, irritation mixing with something I couldn’t quite place. "This isn't the time for your games."

Rouge raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Oh, I’m not joking. You practically let her tie you up. Seems like you let your guard down for something more than just the mission."

I grit my teeth, pushing back the surge of heat in my chest. “She got lucky. That’s all.”

But Rouge wasn’t done. “Sure, sure. I mean, she’s pretty good, I’ll give her that. Had to be quick thinking to get you like that.” Her eyes twinkled as she surveyed the room, her gaze shifting from me to Omega’s malfunctioning state. "But the real question is—how did she even know how to get past all the security systems? Couldn’t have been just luck."

A thought clicked into place, something I hadn’t fully processed in the heat of the moment. The woman’s movements, the way she seemed to be one step ahead, even the tech on her person—it all seemed too familiar. My mind whirred.

“Wait...” I muttered, looking toward Rouge. “She... she knew too much about our systems. She moved like someone who’d been trained to break into places like this.”

Rouge leaned against a wall, watching me. “You think she was G.U.N. trained?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Impossible,” I muttered under my breath, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Her style, her tactics—everything about her reeked of G.U.N. precision, just twisted in a way I hadn’t expected.

“I don’t know, Shadow,” Rouge said, her voice softer now, more serious. “Maybe we should start asking the right questions. Why would someone like her target a G.U.N. facility... and why are we just now seeing her face?”

I clenched my fists, the truth dawning on me. “We’re missing something. Whoever she is, she’s connected to G.U.N. in ways we don’t understand yet.”

Rouge gave me a knowing look, her smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You think this is the beginning of something bigger?”

I nodded, my gaze shifting back to where Scar and the woman had vanished. “It’s more than just a heist. It’s personal now.”

Guys be honest im trying to find a good length for the chapters i believe this is fine but please let me know

- Caty

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow x reader #sonic 3 #catytuesdays #shadow

58 notes · View notes

hugmekenobi · 1 year ago

Text

S3: The Bad Batch (15)

Chapter Fifteen: The Calvary Has Arrived

Gif by @theworstbatch

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: It all comes down to this final fight on Tantiss

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Chapter Warnings: Limited (Y/N), swearing, canon-typical violence, injury descriptions (blood, cuts, blacking out and bruising, loss of limbs, choking), needles and injections, Hemlock being extra cruel and evil, detailed torture and pain descriptions, mentions of self-sacrifice, begging and heavy angst, reader has a bit of a low moment, death, 'fixing' a death, I alter how the hangar fight goes ever so slightly, the Force and medical supplies suiting my needs, happy endings with nice emotions and light PDA

Word Count: 15.8K (Terribly sorry)

Author's notes: It's here! It's a rollercoaster! And Jen and Brad, we all know how it really went, okay? Happy reading!

Night had fallen by the time Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair had made more progress towards the base but even then, it was slow going. Patrols had increased and Wrecker’s injury was affecting him far more than he would like, they kept needing to stop to attend to it.

“Ow.” Wrecker complained as Hunter stuck him with another med patch.

“Did you think wrestling that creature was a good idea?” Crosshair snarked.

“At the time, yes.” Wrecker replied stubbornly.

“The base is five klicks away. Can you make it?” Hunter offered his hand out to Wrecker to get him back on his feet.

“Ha. Try and stop me.” Wrecker responded as he grasped Hunter’s hand.

Hunter waited a second to make sure the coast was clear before he led the way again.

Hemlock worked on drowning out the persistent blaring alarm as he walked down the corridor. His lack of success with you and Tech should not matter. He had enough to know how this squad operated. He still had everything under control. He stopped in front of the oncoming patrol group. “Guard the vault until the security lockdown is lifted.”

“Dr. Hemlock, one of the insurgents has been captured.” Scorch informed him.

Hemlock followed him down the side corridor towards the cells.

Hemlock opened the prison door to see a familiar face. He massaged the palm of his gloved hand as he entered the room. “Aligning yourself with insurgent clones…” He sighed, “Not a good look, Rampart.”

“You’re surprisingly calm, considering this secure and secret facility has been compromised.” Rampart said with a cool countenance. “I can’t imagine the Emperor will be pleased about that.”

Hemlock wasn’t about to let this failure of a man get under his skin. “All that time you spent on Kamino, yet you learned nothing about how clones think. I knew Clone Force 99 would eventually attempt to recover Omega and their Jedi. Their failure is inevitable.”

“The Jedi, I understand. But all this for the young clone too. I fail to see how she’s of value to you.”

Hemlock resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, this fool didn’t understand. “What I am working on is beyond your understanding. Something so vital to the Empire, it makes me indispensable. Unlike yourself.” He waltzed out the cell.

“The longer this lockdown continues, the higher the chance you’ll be discovered.” Emerie advised cautiously as Echo kept working through the system. “We need to move. Now.”

“Why can’t I find any record of the vault Omega’s held in? Or this different cell you were talking about.”

“These databanks are heavily encrypted. The vault and the cell are several levels down. Hemlock keeps them under heavy guard, but I can get you inside.”

Echo unplugged and reattached his hand as he faced Emerie. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because I was wrong about this place. And-” She inhaled sharply, “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

The sincere way in which she spoke allowed Echo to view her in a new light. He gave her a respectful nod before he donned his trooper helmet and signalled for her to lead the way.

“You want us to do what?” Eva double checked as Omega finished telling them the plan.

“It’s how we’re going to escape.” Omega reminded them.

“But it sounds dangerous.” Sami said worriedly.

“My squad I told you about? They’re here. If we can get out of this room and find them, we can all go home.”

“What about your friend?” Jax asked.

Omega had to push you to the back of her mind, as much as it pained her to do so. “My first objective is to get you all home first.”

Home. The word felt so foreign to them now.

“You really think this will work?” Eva asked softly.

“I’ll make sure of it.” Omega promised. “I’ve been trained for this. Let’s get into position.”

Doing as she said, each of the kids took up a seat at a different table to wait on Sami’s signal that they were clear to start.

Sami looked up at the window to see Dr. Scalder step away which was when she tapped her puzzle piece on the table.

Omega readied her tool as Jax and Eva approached the supervising droid.

“My game is broken.” Eva held the device out to the droid. “Can you fix it?”

Omega snuck up behind the droid and stabbed the droid’s power centre. The three of them manoeuvred it into her cell where she could get to work on reprograming it.

Eva and Jax kept an eye out for Sami’s signal and Eva saw the Pantoran knock over the stack of pieces which only meant one thing, “Dr. Scalder is on her way. Hurry.”

“You’ve done this before, right?” Jax asked as Omega seemed no closer to getting whatever it was that she needed to do to the droid completed.

“Yes, but not on this type of droid.” Omega hissed as she hurriedly worked on the wires in the droid’s main control panel.

Dr. Scalder entered the lab and asked the specimen still at the table, “Where are the others?”

Sami stayed silent and held Bayrn close to her.

“Sp-39, I asked you a question.”

Sami pointed behind Dr. Scalder as she saw the three of them approaching.

“We w-were with the droid.” Eva said quietly, her head hanging in automatic submission.

Dr. Scalder sighed in exasperation. “Another scan wasn’t scheduled. Tell me what you were really doing.”

“Eva’s telling the truth.” Omega said calmy as the droid drew closer to Dr. Scalder. “We were with the droid.”

“Dr. Karr has been too lenient with you all. Return to your alcoves. A few days of isolation should remind you-” That was all she got to say before a needle pierced her skin and she fell unconscious.

“It worked.” Sammi gasped as Bayrn released a few happy babbles.

“You did great.” Omega praised. “Now, we have to hurry. Droid, guard the door. Sami, prep the sling for Bayrn.”

Omega dashed into her room and used her tool to get under the first panel before she could tear the rest down. Turning to the others and seeing that Bayrn was now secure on Jax’s back and Eva had her doll strapped to her, Omega asked, “Ready?”

“Ready.” Jax confirmed.

Omega led them into the walls as part to of their escape was underway.

Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair paused again as another ship passed overhead.

“He’s gonna need another med patch.” Crosshair advised Hunter as he heard Wrecker’s strained grunt and the way he kept bringing his hand to his chest.

“We’re out.” Hunter said regrettably. Seeing Wrecker so hurt was a rare thing and it made the decision to carry on forward to Tantiss that bit harder.

Wrecker got to his feet with a groan. “I- I can make it.”

Hunter and Crosshair shared a concerned look, but they followed in their brother’s insistent footsteps through the jungle yet again.

Emerie led the way to the vault, with Echo walking a few paces behind.

Echo took in the corridor awash with red beams of light. “The kids who are held in here, where’d they come from?”

“The Empire used bounty hunters to retrieve them. Their genetic material was required for certain medical testing. I didn’t know about them until recently. I couldn’t help them. Until now.” Emerie paused by the vault door.

“Well, how do the two of them fit into all this?” Echo asked as he thought about you and Omega. “These kids, are they like-”

“I believe they could be, yes. As for Omega, she’s vital to Hemlock’s main objective for the Emperor. Project Necromancer.”

“And (Y/N)?”

“Hemlock wanted her blood for the same purposes as these children, but he also had ulterior motives that his focus has shifted more towards. He stopped taking her samples a while ago.”

“Shifted to what?” Echo asked warily.

Emerie swallowed, “He wants her to join his operatives. He thinks he can… condition her the same way.”

All of what Emerie said made his blood run cold. “Don’t like the sound of that.”

“Everybody good?” Omega asked to the group behind her as they all squeezed along the path she had found to their destination.

“Bayrn’s getting restless. H- He won’t be quiet for much longer.” Jax warned.

“Don’t worry. Things are about to get very loud anyways.” Omega stopped and peered through the slats in the wall and saw that the Zillo Beast and the number of personnel watching it was still the same as what it had been when she’d first came upon it. “Wait here.” She removed the grate and sneakily clambered out and made her way to where the controls that were keeping the beast contained were situated.

However, just as she reached it and was determining which buttons did what, she heard Bayrn’s wails echo throughout the chamber, and she knew she had to hurry. She sussed out what controls would get her what she needed and when the button lit up and she pulled on the lever, she heard the winning sound of the system powering down.

As the troopers rallied to try to contain the now very awake and active Zillo Beast, she darted back and hid with the others in the wall once more and had the joy of watching her plan come to fruition.

The chaos and destruction that unfolded was something she knew Wrecker would be proud of.

Emerie opened the main vault door but was taken aback by what greeted her. “What’s going on in here?” She inquired as Dr. Scalder was escorted past- groaning and clutching at her head. But what concerned her more was the intense conversation occurring between Dr. Hemlock and Scorch.

“Omega and the specimens have escaped.” Hemlock informed her, rage simmering in his voice. “Due to Dr. Scalder’s incompetence, they exploited a weak point in within the walls. She will be dealt with.”

Just as he said that there was an intense rumble that shook the entire facility and the lights flickered off and on again.

“The Zillo’s loose in the containment level.” Scorch revealed as the information came through his comms.

Whatever was happening had not been what he’d anticipated, clearly, he’d been wise to seek the information from you and Tech, it was just an unfortunate setback that he had been unable to acquire it but no matter, he was still in control. Now that he knew Omega was out, he could go back to what he already knew about their ways. “Shut down the reactor and send a diversion to secure the transport hangar.” Hemlock said sharply. “Check on SP-42, Dr. Karr. Then find Omega. Consider your fate now tied to hers.” He exited the vault.

“SP-42?” Echo murmured, already knowing and fearing the answer.

“Yes.” Emerie confirmed quietly as the other troopers departed. She waited until everyone else left before she spoke to Echo in a louder voice, “I don’t understand. Where could the children have gone?”

Echo may not have understood a lot about the goings on in Tantiss but there was one thing about this that he did know for certain. “Omega. She released the Zillo.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it’s exactly what I’d do.” He replied with a cheery sense of pride. “She’s splitting their numbers and creating a diversion. Come on.”

The two of them jogged out of the lab and Emerie led the way to you.

Echo followed Emerie as she took another sharp turn down a corridor and then opened a set of doors that led to another small, tight corridor with a door a few metres down.

Emerie rifled through one of the compartments in the walls outside the cell and took out your lightsaber which she clipped to her belt before she grabbed the proper medkit. Then, she grabbed a small set of keys from her person and cautiously opened the door, “(Y/N), it’s Emerie and Echo. We’re here to get you out.”

Echo’s mouth went dry as he saw you for the first time since Teth and he took in the dirtied and blood-stained uniform. It was definitely better that he found you like this instead of Hunter but even then, he was still having to steady his own breathing.

“Emerie, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but you’re supposed to stick me with the needle before you say things like that.” You croaked through dry and cracked lips as you kept your eyes shut.

Echo took in the mix of fresh and fading bruises on your face and the way your body was racked with exhaustion. Emerie’s prior information did not even come close to accurate- this wasn’t conditioning, it was torture. “You just allowed this to happen?” He questioned angrily as he snatched the key from Emerie and strode over to your slumped form.

“Oh, now that’s good. He almost sounds like him.” You complimented with a weary sigh.

“I didn’t mean to- Hemlock- he was-” She stopped any attempt at defence because no matter what, she’d played a part in this. “I did what I could to help her.”

“Open your eyes and look at me.” Echo implored as he undid your chains and took off his helmet.

“No.” You whimpered. “It’s a trick. It’s always a trick.”

“It’s not a trick.” Echo reassured you as he rested both hands on your shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

“Echo doesn’t have two hands.” You said, aggressively shaking your head as you kept your eyes tightly shut.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.” Echo pleaded. Time wasn’t on his side here and he needed you back with them.

He sounded so real; you couldn’t help yourself. You slowly opened your eyes and took in the familiar face and the eyes that were filled with worry as they looked at you. “Echo?” You whispered; your tone filled with uncertainty.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You’re here? This is real?” Even though Omega had told you this would happen, you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully believe it.

“It’s real. And the others are on their way.” He confirmed with a small reassuring smile.

You flung your arms around him and as he returned your embrace, you already began to feel more alive than you had since arriving here.

“Come on, we gotta get you on your feet.” Echo supported you as you shakily stood up.

“Where’s- where’s Omega?” You said through gritted teeth as your body protested the movement. You knew she had a plan of her own but with Echo and Emerie here, you had to wonder why she wasn’t with them.

Emerie gave you a round of E-bacta shots to get you closer to the level of fitness they needed you to be.

At the first injection, you automatically flinched away from her and into Echo’s side.

Emerie paused and chastised herself for being so thoughtless. She held up her hands in a pacifying gesture and apologised, “Sorry. It’s just bacta to help you heal quickly.” But she waited for you to give the okay before she went any further.

You regarded her suspiciously and made no moves to allow her to carry on. You were on edge, just waiting for the familiar effects to set in and for this to all come crashing down around you.

Echo felt your body go rigid as you leaned into him. He’d never seen you like this and it unnerved him. He was so used to seeing you remain unphased, no matter what came your way. Whatever torture Hemlock had done to you had left far more than physical marks. “I saw her grab the med supplies. She wants to help.” He reassured you gently.

You glanced at his face but saw honesty and so you nodded to Emerie to continue.

Once you were more relaxed, Echo answered your question. “Omega’s already helped us out. Her plan to release the Zillo Beast has worked very well so far. Their forces are a bit stretched and frantic at the moment.” He informed you proudly.

“Oh, she’s brilliant.” You murmured with affectionate admiration.

Echo nodded in agreement as Emerie finished tending to you.

“Hey, wait a minute, you do have another hand?!” You gawped before wincing as the final injection entered your skin- the pricks were still a painful reminder of what you had endured here.

“Not exactly the time for that.” Echo reminded you.

“We cannot linger here. We need to keep moving.” Emerie agreed hastily as she put the medical supplies away.

You nodded sheepishly. “Yup, you’re right, you’re right. Keep that for later.”

Echo picked up his helmet and put it over his head. “Can you walk?” Echo asked.

You rolled your sore shoulders as you took a steadying breath and nodded. “The bacta is working. Let’s go.” You called on the Force to help you find that extra bit of strength as you all exited the cell.

The three of them stopped again and Crosshair used his binoculars to scan ahead. He saw a squad of troopers with lurca hounds and everything he’d been trying to supress since arriving back here came rushing back. His hand trembled and his breathing came to him in short pants. He couldn’t do this. His brothers couldn’t do this; he wouldn’t let them. “They’ve got heavy patrols guarding the perimeter with lurca hounds.”

“Told you we should’ve brought Batcher.” Wrecker joked feebly, groaning in pain and bracing himself against a tree. He noticed the helmeted looks of concern that were sent his way from both his brothers. “Stop looking at me like that! I’m fine!” He insisted through another groan.

“No, you’re not.” Crosshair disagreed strongly. “Change of plans. You two, head to the communications array and try to contact Rex.” He drew his sniper rifle. “I’ll infiltrate the base myself.”

“Not happening.” Hunter objected.

“Yeah, we’ve handled worse situations than this. Countless-”

“Wake up, Wrecker.” Crosshair snapped. “Clone Force 99 died with Tech.” His voice dropped slightly, “We’re not that squad anymore.”

Wrecker and Hunter reflected on that for a moment and Crosshair was right, they weren’t, it was true. But they’d become something more, hadn’t they? Something that meant far more than just a squad title for a war effort. And Tech, alive or dead, was a part of that too.

“I’ve been inside that mountain. I know what we’re up against. If we all go in, we’re not all making it out.” Crosshair continued. “(Y/N) and Omega need you both. So, I’m doing this alone. It’s- it’s what I deserve.” He said, almost to himself.

Hunter wasn’t going to accept that or even entertain the possibility. “Don’t even think about Plan 99, Crosshair. They need all of us, and so do those clones.” He stood facing his brother, so he knew, even with his helmet on, that he meant every word.

“We’ve always known the risks. And so did Tech.” Wrecker placed a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder.

The sounds of the lurca hounds in distress got their focus back and Hunter looked through his binoculars just as the hounds were running away from their handlers.

“What’s going on?” Wrecker asked.

A deep banging and screaming of dying troopers answered his question as the Zillo Beast emerged from the base with a piercing roar.

Crosshair knew that could only be the result of one of three people. “Whose handiwork?”

“Omega’s.” Hunter and Wrecker said in unison.

“If she’s giving us a way in, let’s not waste it.” Hunter said before setting off towards the base again.

Satisfied that it was safe to emerge, Omega removed the grate and led the way over to the ladder that ran up the entirety of the base.

“You want us to climb up t-that?” Jax asked nervously.

“The Zillo got out this way. So can we.” Omega replied but she saw a familiar but fearful reluctance on Jax’s face. “What’s wrong?” She asked kindly.

“I’m not good with heights.” Jax admitted. “I- I guess I’d make a poor soldier.” He said shamefully.

Omega’s eyes softened. “My brother Wrecker hates heights too. And he’s the strongest soldier I know.” She touched Jax’s shoulder in reassurance, “Just stay focused on what’s ahead, not what’s below.” She waved them all over and led the climb up the ladder.

“The Zillo breached the bay doors and fled to the jungle after wiping out two full divisions of troopers.” Scorch said as he entered the control room. “We need reinforcements.”

Hemlock kept his hands behind his back but clenched his covered hand into a fist. “Send the shuttles after the Zillo.”

“But, sir, without air support, the rogue clones could exploit our weakened defences.”

“Of course they will. Do it.” Hemlock strode out of the control room.

Hemlock entered the training room and powered up the system. Even though he hadn’t wanted to use them just yet, the situation called for it and it was time they had a true test. Even though they’d only come up against you, Hemlock had no doubt that they were ready and could get him the results he needed. He watched with a dark smile as they emerged from their capsules.

He said nothing to them yet, he just motioned for them to follow him out but as he did so, he was interrupted by Scorch again.

“Sir, the Jedi has escaped.” Scorch told Hemlock. “Should I send a squadron to look for her?”

Hemlock massaged his gloved palm harder as he felt that rage flare up again but then a remarkable sense of calm overcame him, and a new idea emerged from the clarity. Perhaps this was the way to go after all. “No need, Commander. Send a squad to accompany the operatives to the hangar bay and when she is found, I want her alive. I want all of Clone Force 99 alive.” He nodded to his soldiers to leave for the hangar.

Now, you all would do the work for him.

All he had to do was wait.

The three of you waited until the corridor was clear before you followed Emerie around the corner and down towards another door.

Emerie slid her datapad into the panel and programmed the door to open, but it only opened a fraction before the system shorted out.

Echo peered through the gap and saw the wreckage ahead. “We’re on the right track. Omega definitely came through here.”

“And went where? How are they getting around unseen?” Emerie asked.

Echo followed up path of chaos up the way. “What’s at the top of this shaft?” He moved out the way so Emerie could look.

“It leads up to one of the transport hangars.”

“Any chance you know a shortcut?” Echo checked.

Emerie nodded and made to leave the area.

You didn’t follow them, instead you puffed out a short breath, “This isn’t going to work.”

Echo and Emerie paused and looked back at you.

“I can’t stay with the two of you. The fact we haven’t been caught yet is incredibly fortunate but the longer I’m with you, the more likely it is that’ll happen. We can’t risk either of you being discovered.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Echo asked.

“You two can go find Omega and those kids, I’ll find Hunter and the others.”

“You don’t know the way.” Emerie pointed out.

“Sure I do.” You motioned through the gap in the door. “Just follow the mess and head straight up, right? I can get there quicker than you can now that I’m free and feeling a lot better.”

“There will be soldiers and you’re not 100%. And there’s no clear way through either.”

“I’m a lot more capable when I’m not bound and tortured.” You argued pointedly.

“It’s still not a viable-”

“Echo…” You tilted your head in his direction. “Please tell her.”

Echo nodded to you and then spoke to Emerie, “She can do it. Plus, you won’t really be able to stop her. There are only two that could, one of them is somewhere in this base and the other is doing his best to get here.”

“He’s right. You’ve helped heal me and I think you’ll find I can be far more stubborn and irritating when I’m not in a permanent state of pain.” You said with a simple shrug.

Emerie sighed but conceded the matter. The debate wouldn’t get them anywhere and, thanks to the bacta, you were on the mend. Plus, you had skills that would aid you in this task. “Very well. You’ll need this.” She handed you your weapon.

You took your lightsaber from her with a nod of thanks.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I should’ve done more to stop him.”

You offered her a slight smile. “Well, you did stop me bleeding out that one time so…”

Emerie wasn’t about to let you let her off the hook so easily. “I should’ve done more.” She repeated seriously.

“You’re doing more now.” You said, dipping your head in acceptance of her words.

Echo rested his left hand on your shoulder. “Be careful.”

You placed your own hand on his upper arm. “You too.” With that, you used the Force to widen the gap in the door and hurried through it.

Echo and Emerie began their more traditional route.

You took in the levels of destruction ahead of you and you had to hand it to both Omega and the Zillo Beast, they definitely didn’t do things by halves.

Calling on the Force, you jumped to the next highest safe point you could reach, and kept that going when you could, climbing quickly when you couldn’t, and the hangar was drawing closer by the minute.

You knew it wouldn’t be long before you saw them again.

But you also knew it would be far from over when you reached them.

Blasters drawn, the three of them had managed to reach the transport hangar and sneak their way in. The entire hangar was decimated, with bits of it’s interior now reduced to piles of scrap metal. Fires were dying all around them.

Just as Hunter was assessing the situation, he dodged the blaster bolt aimed right at his head.

They all took cover behind some scrap metal and looked ahead at the emerging squad of troopers.

“What now?” Wrecker grunted.

Crosshair was the first to peer out and he saw the stormtroopers but that wasn’t what unnerved him. The sight of four operative soldiers standing on a pile of wreckage is what alarmed him. They couldn’t handle this.

“How many?” Wrecker asked as he saw Crosshair press himself back against the scrapheap.

“Too many.”

“W-we can take ‘em.”

Crosshair steadied his shaking hand. “No we can’t. Not in your condition. We need to fall back.”

“Crosshair-” Hunter tried to argue, not trusting that Crosshair was planning.

“Go! I’ll be right behind you.” Crosshair placed a sticky bomb on the end of his rifle and fired it at a fixture hanging over the main area of the transport bay.

As they began their retreat, the troopers starting firing on them and advancing towards them.

They could only be on the defence as they fired back.

You heard blaster fire above you and- breathing hard after the strenuous climb- with one final jump, you reached the ruined transport hangar. Some wreckage blocked your path but you used the Force to push it out your way and the sight that greeted you had your stomach lurching. Troopers were everywhere and, although you had been blindfolded the entire time, you knew the four armoured soldiers making their way through the hordes of soldiers were the operatives Hemlock had pitted you against and were what he wanted you to become. You knew yourself that you still weren’t ready for this type of combat, but you couldn’t do nothing.

You took a revitalising breath as you centred yourself and blocked the lingering pain you were feeling from your mind before you ignited your lightsaber, the shining blue blade giving you that added strength you needed.

With a Force-aided leap, you sailed over the heads of troopers and placed yourself between them and the clones behind you.

For a moment, time stood still.

Hunter stopped falling back as he heard that familiar ignition sound and his head snapped towards the source and his breath caught in his throat as he saw you.

It was you. Standing in a soiled prison uniform but in a wash of blue light that stood out from the ember flames was you.

However, something was off as you blocked the blaster fire and struck down the troopers around you. Your movements weren’t quite as fluid or easy as they typically were. You moved stiffly, almost cautiously, and it was obvious to him that you were hurting. He could only let the worst imaginings take hold of him as he thought about what had happened to you and his blood boiled as anger raged through him.

Hunter got a hold of himself and fired at a trooper that was taking aim for your back.

At the sound of a body dropping next to you, you turned and followed the path the shot took, and sharp gasp left your throat.

Everything else around you slowed down and faded into the background as you caught his helmeted gaze. The paint, like his brother’s, had been stripped from his armour, but it was him. He could wear a hundred disguises, decorate his armour in a hundred different ways and you’d know it was him. You’d know him anywhere.

Time swiftly righted itself swiftly again once Crosshair’s bomb went off, shaking the already weak integrity that remained of the hangar. The entire room trembled.

You cut through the final trooper before you turned off your saber and jumped over the falling ceiling beam. You saw the top of where the hangar bay doors used to be begun to collapse which threatened to block their way out and so you called on the Force and held the structure in place. You could buy them enough time to get out and then you could follow.

But you sensed the oncoming threat a second too late.

One of the larger operatives tackled your waist and you both went sliding along the floor.

Hunter and Wrecker watched as the once steady structure started to fall once more. Clearly, whatever help you were providing was no longer available. Now, the approaching gunship was their main concern.

Hunter shoved Wrecker out of the line of fire but the resulting explosions behind him threw him across the room where he clattered into a heap of wreckage and the knock-on impact from the blast saw more falling pieces land on top of him. Darkness engulfed him.

Crosshair killed the pilot and began to run over to the two of them.

Wrecker dashed over to where his brother had fallen, “Hunter!” He removed the metal and picked him up, but he didn’t get very far before a weighted bolas wrapped around his legs, causing him to trip and drop Hunter.

Crosshair caught up to Wrecker, holstered his sniper rifle, and took the vibroblade from the side of Wrecker’s leg and worked on cutting through the rope but he saw another operative heading straight for him. He wasn’t able to draw his blaster in time. The blow landed and sent him careening backwards.

Wrecker couldn’t do anything to help his brother either. The operative that had tripped him up and hit Crosshair now towered above him and pressed his electrostaff straight into the gash in his chest and the pain was excruciating. His entire body was engulfed by the electric current and he didn’t have the energy to fight against the man above him or the hurt anymore, it all got too much, and he succumbed to the darkness.

Stars danced in front of Crosshair’s eyes as his back hit against another piece of debris and his head snapped back against the metal, but he saw that Wrecker was in trouble and he made himself stay awake as he searched for his weapon which he saw a few metres to his right. But his attempts to grab it were thwarted instantly. Crosshair groaned as a foot stamped down on his wrist before he could reach his blaster.

CX-2 caught the vibrosword from his counterpart before he looked down at the pathetic form beneath him, “You should be more careful with your shooting hand.”

Those were the last words Crosshair registered before he saw the blade descend and he felt a deep, searing pain and his sight went black.

You and the operative that had attacked you had been engaged in a fight all on your own whilst that had all gone down.

The operative had gained the upper hand in the tussle and your lightsaber had escaped your hold in the struggle.

Right now, you were doing your best to stay conscious as the operative straddled your chest and wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing hard.

You powerfully facepalmed the underside of his chin so his neck whipped back, stunning him for a second but it was a much needed second.

With that second, his hold on your neck loosened and you were able to remove his hands from you. You pushed him off you and to the side of your body where, with a ragged breath, you got to your feet.

You stomped down hard on his stomach as he attempted to sit up. With one hand, you used the Force to keep him flat on the ground- his futile struggles spurring you on. With the other hand, you called your lightsaber to your it and activated your blade as you swung it down…

“Stop.”

Your blade hovered over the operative’s chest as you angled your head in the direction of the recognisable voice. Your breathing left you in short, uneven pants as you glared at him.

“Surrender or his head goes next.”

Your mouth went dry as you saw what the operative from Pabu was talking about. Crosshair’s shooting hand had been cut clean off and now the long vibroblade weapon was resting over his neck.

“Put your weapon down, or they all die.”

You scanned for the other two and saw another operative standing over Wrecker with an electrospear pressing down on what appeared to be an open chest wound and Hunter lay limp and unmoving on the ground.

The only reassuring thing about this situation was that they all were still breathing. Unconscious, but still alive. And that’s how you wanted to keep them.

You clenched your jaw and ground out a defeated breath as you disengaged your weapon and released your hold of the soldier beneath you.

Your operative got to his feet and snatched your weapon from you and, with a hard punch to your jaw, took your arms behind your back and held your wrists together in a strong and unnecessarily tight grip.

You were too dazed to do anything to resist it.

They moved you all out and back into Tantiss base.

Omega reached the top of the level that led to the transport hangar. As they’d all drawn nearer, they had heard the sounds of blaster fire, but it had all stopped now. She only hoped that meant Hunter and the others had gotten through.

She headed off for the hangar bay, the children following behind.

Echo and Emerie exited the lift and made for the but both of them slowed as they saw a group of operatives go down the corridor.

There were three soldiers unconscious on hovercrafts.

You were pushed along behind them, your arms held securely behind you by one of the soldiers, a fresh purple bruise on your jaw.

Emerie glanced at Echo and even with the helmet on, she could tell he was worried, “Is that the rest of your squad?” She asked as they all rounded the corner.

“Yeah.” Echo said, his voice low. “Where are they being taken?”

“I don’t know. But Hemlock will keep them well guarded.”

“I can handle that. But we have to find the children first.”

Emerie waited a second in case he wanted to change his mind. She could tell his mind was still with all of you, but he was pushing through for the current objective. “The science hangar is up ahead.”

Omega guided the others into the room and took cover by a crate as they all took in the destruction. Whatever had happened here wasn’t solely due to the Zillo Beast anymore- a firefight had occurred here too.

“Do you see your squad?” Eva whispered to Omega.

“Not yet.”

“Hey! You don’t belong here. Call it in.”

Omega jumped to her feet and started to back away from the two troopers, but two stun blasts shot above her head towards the men. She turned back around to see her rescuer was another stormtrooper.

“Causing chaos, Havoc 5?”

“Echo?” Omega gasped happily.

Echo removed his helmet and smiled, “Hey kid.” He then saw more children come out from behind Omega. “And other kids.”

“The shuttles in bay four are still operational.” Emerie informed him as she came back from checking them out.

“You’re helping us, Dr. Karr?” Eva said in surprise.

“I am. But we must hurry.”

Echo put his helmet back on and he and Emerie led the way to the shuttle at a run.

As they reached the shuttle, Omega paused and looked around her. “Wait. Where are Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair? And (Y/N), we’ve got to free her!”

“We got her out, but we split up and now, they’re all detained together.” Echo told her.

“You mean captured?”

“For now.” Echo turned to Emerie and slotted his blaster under his arm. “Can you fly that shuttle?”

“Yes. Why?”

Echo brought out a datacard and gave it to her. “Take the kids to these coordinates. We’ll meet you there.”

Sami, Jax and Eva all looked at one another anxiously.

“You’re not coming with us?” Jax asked Omega.

“There are more prisoners inside, including my family. I can’t leave without them.” Omega welcomed their group embrace and rubbed Bayrn’s head. “Don’t worry. Emerie’s taking you someplace safe. We’ll meet you there.” The kids let her go and stepped away.

“Here.” Emerie passed her datapad to Omega. “This will help you access all wings of the facility.”

“Look after them.” Omega instructed her sister.

“You have my word.” Emerie promised. She placed her hand on Omega’s shoulder. “Be careful, Omega. And…” Emerie took a short breath before she shared her final bit of what she hoped was useful intel. “And if you can, check out the maintenance closet in the prison level. It isn’t what it says, Hemlock spent almost as much time there as he did with your Jedi friend, and he didn’t tell me why. But he never did anything without a purpose. He’s hiding something there; I just don’t know what.”

‘Tech was more resistant to my methods this time.’ Hemlock’s words echoed in her head, and she couldn’t help it, theories and hope started to stir in her. She nodded to Emerie before she and Echo took off back to the base and back to the rest of you.

“You ready?” Echo asked as the door opened just as the shuttle with Emerie took off and away to safety.

She’d succeeded in her initial objective. Now it was time for the next one. “Let’s complete the mission.”

This was no nightmare.

This was no illusion.

This was no trick.

This was not a figment of your imagination.

You were not under the influence of any injection or serum.

There was no denying what you were hearing and seeing now.

There was no blocking out this type of agony that you were experiencing.

Hunter’s moans and screams of pain as the electricity crackled against his temples and jolted through the rest of his body were real.

It was all horrifyingly, heartbreakingly real.

And no matter how much you struggled against your captor’s hold, you were helpless to do anything but watch and listen.

There was no convincing yourself that it wasn’t happening.

And you knew would do anything to make it stop.

Hemlock studied the room. Your hands were now bound in cuffs in front of your body, but one operative still kept a vice-like grip on your shoulder. Hunter and the others were in their capsules, bound and powerless. Crosshair and Wrecker were still unconscious, and Crosshair’s right wrist was being sealed off by a droid. He ignored you for the moment, your time would come soon, for now, his attention lied with Hunter. He signalled for the machine to be turned off.

Hunter panted heavily as the torture finally stopped. Everything hurt, his limbs burned, his head felt like it was going to explode- and that was just from this. He could still fill a deep soreness in his ribs from the blast in the hangar bay. And right now, it may have stopped but he still felt the current in his veins, so the pain endured. He could barely keep his eyes open. He attempted to free his hands from the binders, but they were too tight. Then, he heard Hemlock’s cool, quiet voice.

“The last time we crossed paths, you had just lost a member of your squad. And it appears history may repeat itself. CT-9904 resisted my conditioning in the past, but I’ve made alterations to my methods. Something your… partner can attest to. If you all survive, you will make fine operatives.”

Hunter followed Hemlock’s gaze to where Wrecker and Crosshair were and the wave of guilt that he felt upon seeing what he’d brought on them made way for new type of hurt to enter the mix. Then his sights found yours and he saw the fear and distress in your eyes at Hemlock’s words. He had rarely seen you look so genuinely terrified and yet whatever else Hemlock was talking about got that from you.

“No!” You shouted as you violently fought against the hand holding you back. You couldn’t bear it if they suffered that fate or had to go through anymore of this.

Hemlock ignored you and approached Hunter. “And if not, well, there’s no shortage of clones to test on next.”

“We’ll survive. But you won’t.” Hunter said with as much strength as he could muster.

Hemlock regarded the clone pitifully and indicated to the operative to start the process once more.

Hunter couldn’t help the anguished shouts that left him as he felt that electric fire deep in his body once more, each nerve felt like it was burning away.

“Stop! Stop hurting him!” You cried out as you pulled against the hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You wanted to take his pain away.

Hemlock turned to you and hummed out a pleased laugh as he saw the torment on your face. He had you right where he wanted you. “Do you know I finally figured something out?”

You breathed heavily as Hemlock touched the recent bruise on your jaw but did nothing to stop him in case it made things worse for the rest of them.

“You didn’t succumb to my methods because they weren’t real. I was foolish to think a Jedi such as yourself would be so easily fooled by mind games. You needed the element of doubt removed and look at the results. One glimpse of the real thing and see how you quickly you fall apart.” Hemlock said smugly.

You weren’t looking at the doctor, you were looking past him to at the man you loved with every part of you.

The man who had brought you into a crazy, wonderful family.

The man who had shown you more patience and care than you had ever deserved.

The man who had enabled you to open your heart to everything he had to offer and who had shown you that attachment could be a beautiful thing.

The man who had your heart and soul.

But was now being put through the worst kind of pain he could experience.

And then you looked to the others. To the ones who had welcomed you instantly and who had risked everything for you and Omega and who were now hurting and endangered because of it.

And it was tearing you apart. “Just let them go. Let him go. Stop this, Hemlock, please.” You choked out.

Hemlock nodded again to get the operative controlling the machine to stop. He wanted the clone awake for this.

Hunter gasped in limited relief as the electricity turned off once more. He fought through the pain to keep his eyes open as he saw Hemlock beside you, a cruel yet somehow gleeful smile on the man’s face that worried him in a way he hadn’t experienced before. There was something deeply unsettling about the sight of him standing so close to you like that.

“You know, from our time together, I can see why you would fall for her.” Hemlock commented to the clone. “She showed remarkable durability and resolve. She was quite a challenging subject.”

Hunter clenched and unclenched his hands as he watched Hemlock. It wasn’t just the physical torture that had his body feeling this much pain. After what you’d told him about Christophsis, he’d never wanted you to go through that hell again, but you had. He’d been far too late.

“But of course, such feelings are a weakness, all too easy to exploit. Oh, you should’ve heard her cry out for you, just begging me to end your suffering.” Hemlock pretended to ponder the next decision. “Then again, perhaps you can.” He stood in front of you.

Your blood ran cold as you saw the look in Hemlock’s eyes.

“You wish for his pain to stop?” Hemlock asked you, a wicked and calculated smile on his face.

“Yes.” You said, your voice scarcely above a whisper.

“Beg.”

“No.” Hunter rasped as he heard the demand.

You shoved down the bile that rose in your throat at the thought. “Please.” You breathed.

“Not so resistant now, are you?” Hemlock taunted cruelly. “But I don’t think you mean it.”

“Don’t do it.” Hunter ground out weakly.

But you would. You would do anything. You kept your attention on Hemlock. “I’m begging you, please, please don’t hurt him anymore.”

“More.” Hemlock commanded, enjoying the distraught etched on your face and the pathetic attempts the clone gave at breaking free to stop this.

You didn’t need the pressure on your shoulder that came from the operative by your side. You did it freely. You didn’t care about the humiliation, you only cared about making it end. On your knees, you glanced up at Hemlock, your voice hoarse as you pleaded, “Please. Please stop hurting him. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Hemlock caressed the side of your head. “You know what I want.”

The sight of you begging on your knees for that man caused him more pain than any machine could. Hunter, as weak as he was, still attempted to get out of his prison. You shouldn’t have to do this, not for him.

You did. You knew precisely what he was after, but you automatically shook your head in refusal.

Hemlock simply snapped his fingers.

Hunter tossed his head back and writhed and yelled in pain as the electricity coursed through his body once more.

“No, stop! Please!” You begged. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Hemlock held his hand up and it ceased once more. “Well?”

You swallowed tightly. And it wasn’t just Hunter you wanted to save; you had a family you needed to protect. “I join you, they don’t.” You negotiated quietly, hating the words as they left your mouth.

Hemlock considered the options in his head. Getting a Jedi under his command would be yet another testament to his work and that was worth more to him than these clones. It was a sacrifice he could make. “Join me and I will allow them to remain prisoners here. No conditioning required.”

You knew that was the best you were going to get for them right now. You squeezed your eyes tight as you resigned yourself to what you were about to do and ignored Hunter’s pained and faint protests. “I’ll join you.” You barely got the words out, but you’d said them now. You opened your eyes to that sadistic and twisted grin, the one from your nightmares. The one that he'd wear once he made some kind of monumental breakthrough in his research. And this time, it was warranted. He’d done it. He’d finally broken you.

Another Imperial entered the room. “Doctor, there is an incoming transmission from Governor Tarkin.”

Hemlock signalled back to the operative stood by Hunter’s capsule.

A raw and tormented scream left Hunter’s throat as his senses were overloaded once more.

You rushed to your feet and went to lunge for the doctor, but the operative held you back. “No! You said-”

“Think of it as a reminder of what will happen if you change your mind.” Hemlock said icily as he left the room.

If it weren’t for the bruising grip on your upper arms, you would’ve collapsed to the ground, but you were left with no choice but to stand there and live with what you’d decided and to hear Hunter’s cries.

The lift opened to the prison level and before the troopers on guard had time to react, Echo shot them both. He picked up the loose blasters and he and Omega advanced down the corridor.

More troopers came at them, but Echo easily took care of them whilst Omega slid the datapad into one of the terminals.

“Hey, kid. What’s going on?”

Omega turned to the clone that addressed her from behind his cell door. “We’re breaking out.” With that, she programmed all cell doors to open. “Here.” She tossed the clone a spare blaster she had acquired. “I’ll look for the others.” She told Echo, mentally including the so-called maintenance closet in that statement.

Just as she looked down one corridor, she saw another familiar face. “Nala Se!” She ran over to the Kaminoan.

Nala Se knelt down to the girl’s level. “Omega, why did you come back to this place?”

“I had to, but it’s okay. We’re all getting out this time.” She reassured her old mentor before she carried on past her, anxiously scanning for any sign of you all.

Omega hadn’t seen any of you, but she had found the door Emerie had referred to. She knew perhaps the hope she was feeling in her heart was foolish, but she couldn’t help it, it was who she was. And she’d rather know for sure than spend the rest of her life regretting that she never tried. She held her breath as she opened the door.

Omega’s exhale left her with an indistinguishable surprised and elated sound as she saw the figure.

He may have a supportive brace encasing his entire right leg.

He may be without his goggles.

He may look dishevelled and weary.

But there was no mistaking his face.

This was her brother. The brother she never thought she would see again. The one that had given up everything for them. Yet, somehow, he was standing there before her.

Omega stared at the man that had turned to face her when the door opened. “Tech?” She gasped, scarcely believing it. She needed him to speak, to confirm that she wasn’t seeing things.

Tech’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t dared take Hemlock’s words as the whole truth, but he recognised the child immediately and… and he felt alive again. “Omega?”

Another joyful sound left her throat as happy tears welled in her eyes. She dashed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Did it not work?” Tech whispered as he rested his hands on her back. He recognised the prison uniform. And he didn’t remember a lot since Eriadu, especially with the months spent enduring Hemlock’s manipulations, but he had thought the rail car had gotten away at least.

“No, it- well-” She stopped. “The main thing to know is Crosshair did betray the Empire and he’s back with us. We can catch you up on the rest once we’re out of here.”

The news about his brother made him sigh in relief. They had been without Crosshair for far too long and Hemlock’s lies had been the only moments he had to imagine what having him back would feel like but the happy emotions it brought had all been spoiled and tainted by Hemlock’s cruelty. Now, he could allow himself to feel that happy again and he could be confident in knowing it was true. Then, he remembered the last part of Omega’s statement. “Out of here?” Tech repeated, the very concept had felt like a distant desire for such a long time.

Omega smiled at him, “Come on, Echo is waiting. We’re breaking everyone out.”

Tech released a long, relieved breath, “An excellent idea.” He concurred. He followed her- a slight limp in his gait now- out of the cell that he hadn’t been sure he’d ever leave.

“We gave up hope that anyone was coming to help us.”

Echo held his helmet and addressed the clone that had first spoken to Omega when they’d arrived, “We’ve been looking for this base for a while.”

“Echo, I searched all the cells. They’re not here. But I did find someone else.”

Echo turned at the sound of Omega’s voice but what he saw had his jaw dropping and his helmet fell from his grasp. He said nothing as he walked towards his brother and clasped him close. “I don’t believe it. How- I mean- you called out the plan- we saw you fall.”

Tech hadn’t quite expected the hug, but he welcomed it all the same. It felt good to accept that fighting against Hemlock this time had been worth the pain. This was a truth he could trust. “You forget that my intelligence did not cease to exist after I shot that connection hinge.”

Omega smiled as she heard that loveable cockiness in his voice.

Echo released his brother but kept his eyes on him. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice fuelled with concern.

Tech grew more solemn again. “As much as could be expected. However, I’m afraid to say that I have failed our squad. Hemlock, he wanted information about you all. I resisted when I could but- but his methods were rather… effective at getting the results he wanted.”

Echo had seen what Hemlock’s methods could do so in a short space of time and Tech had been here for months. So, the very fact that he had even held out at all was something to admire. “Don’t worry about that.” Echo reassured him. “All that matters is that you’re alive.”

Tech gave him a grateful bow of his head before he straightened his spine. “I see that I am not the only one with a new look.” He commented lightly, gesturing to his brace and Echo’s mechanical hand.

Echo allowed himself a short chuckle, “Yeah, well, the situation called for it.”

Tech nodded in understanding before he scanned the group of clones around them all. “But where are the others?” Tech asked, fully realising that amongst these newly freed clones, there were four faces that were missing. And the worry that flashed across Echo’s face did nothing to ease his own anxieties.

Giving Tech’s shoulder one final squeeze, he spoke to the rest of the clones surrounding them. “The rest of our squad were grabbed by Hemlock’s operatives. Where else would he take them?”

“Well, they could be in the training room. It’s where Hemlock conditions the clones he deems useful.”

“I think I know where that is.” Omega said, grabbing the datapad. “Follow me.”

“Are you joking?” Rampart shoved past Echo. “The wisest course of action is to leave while we can.”

Echo glared at the man. “Clones don’t leave our brothers behind. And Hemlock’s also got someone who is just as important to us as any other clone.” He moved Rampart out the way and kept his speech for his fellow clones. “Listen, I know you’ve all been through enough. You deserve your freedom. But Omega and I can’t do this alone. Is anyone willing to stand with us?”

The clone that spoke to Omega spoke first, “I will. I’ve got one more fight left in me.”

That spurred others on. Soon more rallying shouts were declared throughout the group.

“Good.” Echo said appreciatively. Then he turned to Tech and took a reluctant breath, “Tech…”

Tech recognised that look but hearing that the rest of you were in danger had his loyal and protective instincts as a member of this squad come rushing back to him. “I want to go with you.” Tech insisted. “They need our help.”

“You’re not 100%. We lost you once, it’s not happening again.” Echo said firmly. “Get the injured to the hangar and secure a shuttle. You can help them there.” He gave Tech a spare blaster. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Very well.” Tech said with a heavy sigh. Deep down, he knew that his current situation made him more of a liability for such a high stakes mission. He needed to recover properly and get back to form and he could start by helping the rest of these clones.

Echo put his helmet on once more. “I’ll trigger an alert in a different wing and reroute their troops. The rest of you, grab any weapon you can.”

Tech led the way with the injured, hoping that this would all come to a better conclusion that Eriadu had.

Before Omega left with Echo and the rest of their team, Nala Se’s voice stopped her.

“Omega, I must not allow my science to remain in the Empire’s hands.” She knelt down and placed a large hand on Omega’s shoulder. “The only way you will be free is if Hemlock is gone and the databanks are destroyed.”

“Then let’s get to the lab.” Omega said determinedly.

“No. Your place is with them.” Nala Se nodded to the clones.

Omega dipped her head in both a farewell and in understanding. “You’ll need this.” She gave Nala Se the datapad and watched her walk away before she joined up with Echo and left the cells.

Rampart watched the scientist go, a fresh plan of his own forming in his head as he made to follow her.

Hemlock walked back to the training room, working on dampening his simmering anger and irritation. The conversation with Tarkin had not been a productive one and now he was faced with having to deal with the lousy Imperial face-to-face.

He had it under control. Tarkin would just be another nuisance he had to deal with.

“The training floor’s two more corridors over.” Omega said to Echo as they eliminated the guards by the hall terminal.

Echo used his scomp to bring up schematics. “The pneumatic tube system runs throughout this base. Think you can use it to get eyes inside that room?” He opened a panel in the walls.

“It worked in the vault.” Omega ran over to the gap and crawled into the narrow space.

“Relay what you see, but stay out of sight until we’re in position.” Echo ordered before she disappeared. He handed her a comm.

“Rodger that.”

Nala Se had taken a grenade from a downed trooper as she made for the lab. She had accepted what her course of action would lead her to.

Covertly following her, Rampart grabbed a blaster from another body.

Nala Se entered the lab but just as she finished bringing up the databank and blood samples, a blaster clicked behind her, and she was staring down an unhappy looking Admiral Rampart. She activated the bomb behind her back, no one was going to stop her from doing what needed to be done. And if she took this Imperial down with her… well, that was an added bonus.

Omega peered out into the room from behind the ceiling grate. All was quiet. You were standing up, your hands in binders with an operative holding on tight to your shoulders, whilst the others were knocked out and in some type of capsule prison. “Echo, I have a visual on them. There’s an operative on guard but I don’t see the others.” She whispered into her comm. “I might be able to free them if you give me a big enough distraction.”

“We’re on our way.”

Echo and his group of clones entered the training room but as soon as they entered, the lights dimmed, the floor lit up in a harsh red light and parts of the floor rose up to form obstacles. They were ambushed by the other operatives in seconds.

You couldn’t understand why the operative holding you suddenly let you go to activate the downstairs area, but the sounds of blaster fire soon told you why.

You hoped Echo’s plan was going to work.

Omega managed to sneak into the room without incident. She caught your eyeline and motioned for you to be quiet as she went over to the main control box. She worked on Wrecker’s first, and she succeeded in removing one of the wrist cuffs. Before she could work on anything else, she felt eyes on her and she let out a fearful gasp as she saw the operative staring at her.

You acted quickly. You ran in front of the operative and saw your lightsaber attached to your belt. You lunged for it but with your hands bound, you were limited in what you could offer and a powerful kick to your chest sent you tumbling to the floor. Winded and gasping for air, you could only watch as Omega’s stun blasts did nothing to stop the advance of the soldier and he took a hold of her arm and dragged her into the centre of the room. You got to your feet just as Hemlock entered the room with the operative from Pabu.

“A glaring weakness in clones is their loyalty to one another.” Hemlock said to the young girl. “Thank you for proving my point.” Then Hemlock beckoned you over to him as you both walked towards the window.

“Now that you’ve joined our ranks, perhaps it is time to see what sort of matters you will have to deal with.” Hemlock said to you. He wouldn’t free you yet, not until he knew for certain that this matter was officially over and dealt with. Your attachment for the clones remained and therefore the margin for error was still too great so for now, you remained in cuffs and his prisoner.

You forced yourself to ignore Omega’s shocked gasp as she heard that.

“Shall we see if they fare better than you did?” Hemlock allowed the firefight to continue for a couple minutes before he pressed the buttons that would introduce his special toxin into the room.

You could only watch on in horror as the clones without helmets started to cough and choke whilst they desperately clutched at their throats before they collapsed to the ground.

“Perhaps an unfair comparison given that I didn’t use this for you but alas, sometimes such things are necessary. You will find that often the most pain gets the quickest results, but with your skills, you will make quick work of things, I am sure.”

“You joined him?” Omega said in dismay.

“I had to.” You croaked, your throat closing up as everything you loved fell apart around you.

Having entertained Rampart and his delusions of Imperial redemption for long enough, Nala Se didn’t fear the blaster bolt that entered her chest and as the light faded from her eyes, she took comfort in the fact that this final act of hers would bring peace to Omega’s life.

Rampart heard the rapid beeping of the grenade that rolled free from her hand as she fell, but before he could do anything, his life left him in a flash of blinding white light.

Having been the only one with the safety of a helmet to resist the gas, Echo was on his own against the three operatives.

He staggered forward as a knife entered the back of his shoulder. His blaster was knocked out his grasp, so he used his mechanical hand to defend against the swings of the sword from the operative that had cut him, and he succeeded in throwing the black-armoured clone against one of the walls, so his helmet came off and he too feel victim to the gas.

However, Echo didn’t have long to recover before he was knocked to the ground but just as he reached for his blaster, it was kicked away, and he glanced up to see another operative pointing a blaster at his head.

Hemlock kept his sights on the scene below. “Their efforts have failed.” Hemlock stated. “Predictably so.”

You were shoved back to stand in the middle of the room with Omega.

Omega glanced at you, but your face was a blank slate. Your posture was slumped and heavy with defeat. You had no fire, no fight in you.

“Sir, there’s been an explosion in the central lab. It’s been destroyed.” Scorch revealed as he entered the training room.

This news snapped you out of your fatigued and defeated state. Hemlock wasn’t untouchable and he knew it. You remembered the nervousness you’d picked up on when he’d first told you they were coming to the base, and you saw the way his body tensed after Scorch’s words. For all his victories and apparent calmness, he knew you were the people that could get to him which was why he’d done everything he could think of to tear you apart. The thoughts sent a surge of strength and resolve through you. What the fuck were you doing? This was your team, your squad, your family. You’d all never stop fighting for each other so why had you? You’d given up so easily and that wasn’t who you were, how could you have lost sight of that? You glanced over to Omega and nodded.

Omega felt hope rise in her chest as she saw the familiar spark and determination in your eyes. She then stole a look behind her to see Wrecker slowly waking up. “You failed too.” She said smugly to Hemlock. “Your data’s gone.” And she wasn’t just talking about the samples, she knew Tech was safe too.

Hemlock whipped his head around to face the two of you. He had what he needed; he could start again. “But I still have you both.”

Picking up on Wrecker’s movements too, you got ready to fight once more. “Hey, Hemlock?” You waited until his eyes arrived on you. “Go to hell.”

Hemlock glowered at you but before he could do anything more, Omega spoke once more.

“And you’re forgetting one thing. We have them.” Omega said proudly.

Chaos erupted.

Wrecker ripped himself free of his capsule and used the portion covering his legs as a shield against the blaster fire before he launched it towards the operatives, the impact of the piece of metal against one of the control towers took down the entire system in the process.

Crosshair and Hunter groggily woke up their confinement also loosened.

Wrecker shakily got to his feet and pushed against the electrospear that the operative shoved towards his chest. He ignored the pain of the electrical current and kept his focus entirely on meeting the soldier strength for strength.

You dashed over to Hunter and rested your bound hands just beside his head “My love, I need you to stand for me.” You murmured with urgency. You placed your hands under his neck and then moved them gently still to his upper back to support him.

Hunter strained to open his eyes as he took in your still slightly blurry form, but he never failed to recognise you or your voice. He nodded and inhaled sharply as he slowly rose with your encouragement.

Whilst you did that, Omega made a break for a loose blaster, but Scorch grabbed her. She struggled against him, but she was forced to stop as Hemlock paired them together with a set of cuffs.

“We’re leaving. Get the Jedi.” Hemlock said to Scorch, passing him a hypodermic with a sedative inside it. He then snatched a blaster from CX-2 as well as the set of controls he kept on his sleeve for his ship. “Deal with them.” He directed the operative before he dragged Omega out,

Scorch came over with as he saw you attempting to aid the clone sergeant to his feet. He speedily stabbed the needle into your thigh and pressed down on the plunger.

You reacted swiftly and slapped his hand away before you landed a kick to his gut, but you felt the broken skin and as you removed the needle from your leg, you saw that the tip of it was wet, and you knew that you hadn’t been fast enough. Some of it had entered your system. A wooziness overcame you and you swayed on your feet as you fought against it.

Scorch recovered from the blow you dealt him and as he saw the unsteady way you stood as well as the lack of clarity behind your eyes, he knew he had done enough to get you compliant. He grabbed your wrist and forced you out of the room as he hurried to catch up with Hemlock.

Seeing that Hemlock was escaping with you both, Wrecker thrust the spear above him and kicked the operative back.

Hunter wearily worked on standing up straight and finding the strength to go after you and Omega.

“Get them back.” Wrecker said to Hunter before he let out a roar and charged at the operative he’d been fighting. He tackled his waist and smashed through the cracked window.

The gas dissipated and Echo glanced up to see the glass of one of the windows had cracked and there were flashes blaster fire. Whatever was happening above him was the disruption he needed.

And that distraction developed as Wrecker came crashing through the window.

In the mayhem, Echo was able to divert the blaster pointed at his head to the second operative standing behind him and take cover. Even with one operative dead, he was still outnumbered but two more rounds fired past him to disband the operative forces. Echo turned and saw that Wrecker- despite being flat on the ground- had been the one to fire the shots but he was still in danger. Echo fired a series of shots to the operative that Wrecker had forced out of the window and that operative also fell dead to the ground.

But Echo couldn’t ease up. Another operative had recovered from the disruption and attacked them again. Echo opened fire back as he took cover behind one of the obstacles.

Wrecker was slower to react. The shot he took to the inside of his leg as he rolled for shelter was yet another painful sign of how out of it he was. But he needed to get it together, Echo still needed him, and he wasn’t going to let his brother down.

Echo carefully moved around the room. He knew there were two operatives remaining and they made themselves know quickly. Now that the danger of the gas was gone, he had removed his helmet to aid in his breathing but as he walked around the side of one of the wall obstacles, a wave of blaster fire was sent in his direction, and he quickly pressed himself back against the wall. He searched for another way to somehow get behind the operative who had fired on him but as he did so, he felt a threat approaching his own back. As he turned, he saw the operative with the vibroblade weapons lunge for him and his blaster wasn’t primed to take the shot to stop it.

With a loud shout, Wrecker got to his feet and picked the operative up by the neck and smashed his head through one of the walls. That took up the last of his energy, his legs gave out and he fell to the ground with a deep groan.

Seeing his brother go down so heavily alarmed Echo deeply which was why he wasn’t the one to kill the final operative that had emerged. No, those shots came from one of the clones who had rallied by his side for this fight. He gave him a grateful nod before he knelt by Wrecker’s side. The clone could barely keep his eyes open, and he was breathing in short, sharp pants, his pain was obvious. “Wrecker, where are the others?” Echo asked as he looked on worriedly as his brother.

“They’ve- they’ve gone after-” Wrecker broke off with a low groan and couldn’t finish the thought. He was too exhausted and sore to focus on anything other than staying awake.

Echo put it together. “I can help you get there but I need you to get to your feet.” Echo urged as insistent but as caringly as possible, but Wrecker made no move to stand. “Come on, Wrecker, you can do it.” He thought of the first thing he could think of to get him there. “Tech’s alive. He’s waiting at the shuttle.”

“If that’s supposed to cheer me up, it’s a bad way to do it.” Wrecker managed to grunt.

“I’m serious. Omega found him.”

Wrecker glanced at Echo and a brief rush of adrenaline hit him as he saw the serious and honest look on Echo’s face.

“It’s true. I saw him.” The other clone added as he came over to offer his help.

Wrecker allowed himself to believe that because it was now the only thing giving him the strength to even think about getting up. With a determined moan, he got to his feet.

Echo, along with the other clone, supported Wrecker as they all made their way to the shuttle.

Hunter had managed to stand and grab the spear that the operative had left behind, but everything was still blurring together in one dark and incoherent shape. He couldn’t fully tell one sense apart from the other, everything was too sore and disjointed.

But he knew there was still an operative up here and he had to focus on finding him.

Crosshair was also beginning to get to his feet and as he saw CX-2 creep next to his pod and aim his blaster at Hunter, Crosshair kicked his arm which caused the shot to go array.

Tracking the sound, Hunter threw the spear in the direction it had come from and heard the sharp blade meeting it’s target as CX-2 was speared in the gut and the power behind Hunter’s through saw doubly sure that he was dead as he was flung back into the power grid and electrocuted.

Hunter grabbed the fallen rifle and spoke to Crosshair through gritted teeth, “I’ll go get them. You should stay here.”

“Not a chance.” Crosshair grunted as he properly got to his feet.

Hunter picked up a second blaster and handed Crosshair the sniper rifle.

Supporting each other, the two of them hobbled out the room to go catch up with you and Omega.

The night air was cold as a storm raged on.

Thunder rumbled above you.

Lightening flashed through the black clouds.

The pouring rain pelted against your skin.

The wind whipped across your face.

But as unpleasant as it was, it did help get you out of your sedative state. You just had to wait for the right moment and so long as Scorch had a blaster pressed to your back and Omega was cuffed and attached to Hemlock, it wasn’t the right moment, so you pretended to still be as compliant as you had been when being led through the corridors out of the training room.

Hemlock led the way across the exposed and narrow walkway towards the landing platform. He was almost there. He could rebuild once he got away. He ignored the girl’s struggles and protests as he dragged her further along and pressed the button on the control sleeve that would bring the ship to them. Just as the ship was preparing to land, two blaster bolts hit the right and left engines and the ship erupted into flames.

You used as your moment to take care of Scorch. You smacked the back of your head into his visor and turned on your heels to grab his blaster.

In the push and shove struggle, both of you teetered towards the edge of the bridge. One particularly nasty shove from Scorch saw to it that you fell over the top, but you still had a hold of his blaster, so he toppled over with you.

You just about managed to take a scrappy hold of the one of the bars that formed the boundary of the walkway, Scorch fell past you into the abyss below. The metal was slick against your fingers and being cuffed wasn’t making holding on any easier, your grip was haphazard at best. Which was why you weren’t surprised that you couldn’t keep a secure hold and you slipped downwards, your fingers catching the edge of the platform.

You saw the scene unfolding across from you and you wished there was more you could do to help but all you could do now was fight to keep your head up as your legs dangled aimlessly. You called on every piece of strength you had to hold on and wait this out.

Hemlock thrust Omega in front of him and wrapped his arm around her neck as he held the blaster to her head. You were out of the picture for now, his main adversaries remained further down the bridge. “That’s far enough!” He threatened as he saw the clones

Hunter shook the rain from his eyes as he and Crosshair paused to figure out the next best course of action. He had to trust that you would hold on for long enough. Right now, his priority was Omega. He knelt down and kept his blaster trained on Hemlock.

Crosshair did the same, only he rested his rife on Hunter’s shoulder as he peered down his scope.

The two of them synchronised their breathing as the storm echoed around them but that didn’t distract them. Their entire focus was on the two people down the walkway.

“You won’t get past them.” Omega said, no fear in her voice.

“They won’t risk hurting you.” Hemlock said through heavy breaths. “And it’s not only you they have to consider.”

“Neither will you. You need me alive.” Omega countered. “And she’s a lot stronger than you think.” She said, knowing that no matter what, you would be fine.

Hemlock brought her to the edge of the bridge opposite to where you were hanging. “If I go over, then you go over.” He then bellowed down to the clones, “Drop the blasters!”

But Omega wasn’t going to entertain that outcome. Hemlock’s arrogance would be his downfall. She reached into her sleeve and grabbed the tool she had stolen from Emerie’s supply kit.

Hunter saw what Omega was doing and understood her plan. “Shoot the binders.” He told Crosshair.

“I- I- I can’t.” Crosshair stammered. He had rarely practiced with his left hand as the trigger hand and these conditions were less than ideal to make such a precise shot. “They’re too close. If I’m off- I can’t risk Omega.”

“She knows what to do, Crosshair.” Hunter said. He trusted Omega and he trusted Crosshair. He had all the confidence that his brother could make the shot. “Wait for her, then take the shot.”

Crosshair let that faith and his own desire to rescue Omega guide him as he rested his finger on the trigger. He could do this. He knew he could. He inhaled and exhaled steadily as he waited on her.

Omega stabbed her implement into Hemlock’s thigh and used his surprise to step away from him and she raised their cuffed hands in the air.

When Crosshair’s shot met it’s mark and separated them, she crouched down as she heard six shots hit Hemlock’s chest and she watched his body fall over the side.

Releasing a thankful sigh, you braced yourself on your forearms as you worked on hauling yourself back up. You felt a supportive hand tug at your arm and angled your gaze to see Omega doing her best to help you back onto the bridge.

Once safely situated and cuff free thanks to Omega’s tool, you stayed propped on your knees and braced your hands on your thighs as you caught your breath and looked at the young girl and all it took was that glance from you. She crashed into you, and you squeezed her close. “Are you alright?”

Omega squeezed you back and nodded into your neck. “Yeah… I’m okay.” She said through an exhausted but relieved sigh. “Are you?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay.” You said, your throat tightening as you realised what was about to happen next. It had been the thing that had gotten you through every night since arriving here. And it had been the thing you had so nearly given up and lost.

You both pulled apart at the same time.

You got to your feet and followed her gaze towards the two men still kneeling further down the bridge. You didn’t need to check with her, you both started running together.

Naturally, you reached them just before Omega did and you didn’t really slow down in your approach.

With adrenaline overpowering your own lingering pain and tiredness, you- getting caught up in the excitement of seeing Hunter again- foolishly forgot about his injuries and all but launched yourself at him. You collided against his chest with a happy cry and flung your arms around him and pulled him close to you.

“Ow ow ow.” Hunter mumbled with a sharp wince as he braced himself against your strength, but he couldn’t help himself, he clung to you just as tightly.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Your words were muffled from where you pressed your face in the crook of his neck. You went to pull away instead, but he wasn’t letting you yet, in fact he readjusted his hold to keep you right where you were.

Hunter breathed you in and let himself get lost in the feeling of holding you and feeling you against him. The familiar shape and scent of your body providing him the comfort and security he needed to alleviate part of the pain he was feeling with his senses. He nuzzled into your neck and used one hand to cradle the back of your head whilst his other arm still kept you tight to him.

The two of you held onto each other like you were terrified it was all a dream and you might be taken away again. The bridge was cold and wet against your legs but after all that had just happened, it hardly mattered now. The rain continued its deluge against your body, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was this moment right here and now.

Only when his body did truly start to protest against the strain, did Hunter relax his arms.

You released your own arms and hid your face in your hands as the emotions of the time that had passed hit you all at once. Sobs mixed with laughter left your throat and racked through your body as you realised that he was safe. That Omega was safe. That they all were safe.

Hunter gently took your hands away and carefully held your bruised face. He used his thumbs to softly wipe some of the rain and tears running down your cheeks. He brushed some wet strands of hair tenderly away from your face before murmuring, “I love you.” A kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” A kiss to your cheek. “I love you,” A kiss to your other cheek.

You stared into his brown eyes as you got yourself under control and they grounded you so completely as you saw the feeling behind them. “I love you too.” You gasped breathlessly. You threaded your fingers in his damp strands and-more mindful of his injuries- leaned forward.

Hunter went to close the gap but the sound of someone managing a strained but somehow still very pointed cough caused you both to stop and you turned your head to see Crosshair and Omega waiting expectantly.

“What? No hugs for us?” Crosshair said with a light-hearted, albeit pained, smile at the two of you.

You huffed out a chuckle and together, you and Hunter slid into their embrace, and you all wrapped your arms around one another. You shared in that moment until Omega decided to break away.

You all got to your feet, but you noticed how unsteady both Crosshair and Hunter were.

With Omega looking out for Crosshair, you focused your attention on Hunter. “Lean on me.” You instructed him as you placed his arm around you, and you took on his weight as you all made your way to the transport hangar.

You all reached the shuttle and slowly walked up the ramp but the person you saw tending to Wrecker’s wounds had you all forgetting any remaining aches and pains.

All three of you inhaled sharply and stopped short. You shared a look to make sure you were all in agreement with what- or rather-who you were seeing.

“Yeah, you’re not seeing things.” Wrecker told you all with a cheery disposition.

Echo had a small yet delighted grin on his face as he took in the stunned yet happy reactions from all of you.

“Oh… did I not mention that?” Omega kidded, a joyous smile on her own face.

“Tech?” Crosshair all but whispered.

“You’re alive?” You and Hunter said together, emotion overwhelming both of you as you spoke.

“You sound surprised.” Tech said with a small smile. What did catch him by surprise though was the way he was dragged into a large group hug with all six of you.

And as the shuttle took off and you all had that minute together, you were hit with a remarkable sense of home.

The shuttle landed in Pabu and the rescued clones steadily departed the shuttle first.

Echo, Omega and Wrecker were the first of you all to leave with Echo wanting to check on Emerie and Omega wanting to check on her friends from the vault.

Tech made to go too but hesitated as he caught the attention of a familiar face.

Phee’s eyes widened. She walked up the ramp and took in the messy yet totally recognisable man in front of her. “Well, brown eyes, it’s about damn time.”

Tech made to adjust his non-existent goggles but caught himself. “I was- uh- rather occupied for a while.”

Phee raised her chin and smiled. She came up the ramp and linked arms with the clone. “Now your survival is an adventure I want to hear all about.”

You could’ve sworn you saw the faintness of blushes on Tech’s cheeks.

“Well, it involved a grappling hook and some pretty fast thinking. I was falling…”

You, Hunter and Crosshair watched them walk away and you caught the completely astonished expression on Crosshair’s face. It was possible he was more taken aback by that than by seeing Tech come back from the dead.

“I have a question.” Crosshair asked as he stared at the fading figures.

“What’s that?” You said, pretending to have no idea as to why he looked so bewildered. You welcomed Hunter’s arm that looped around your waist and the look he gave you told you that he was willing to play along.

“We just spent the duration of that journey getting medical attention and catching Tech up on everything that had happened since you all ignored Plan 88, right?”

“Right.” Hunter agreed, ignoring the playful jab.

“And I was on Pabu and with you all a good while before everything went to shit.” Crosshair said.

“Uh huh.” You concurred, a slightly teasing smile on your face as you waited for him to get to the point of his question.

“So, please explain to me why no one thought to tell me about that.” He pointed with his left hand towards Tech and Phee. “Since when did Tech get- I mean how- just what exactly is that?”

“Oh… that.” You feigned a sudden realisation. “Huh, I guess they did get pretty close whilst we were staying here. How many dates was it before we had to leave, Hunter?”

Hunter matched your teasing tone. “Yeah, I don’t know. At least three or four- not that Tech truly realised that’s what they were. We really didn’t tell you?” He asked Crosshair, a smirk on his face.

“You two are impossible.” Crosshair groused before he walked down the ramp, muttering under his breath.

You laughed quietly as you watched him leave.

Hunter let out a low chuckle too as he brought you in closer to his side and he pressed his lips to the top of your head before you both walked out the ship.

Emerie observed the children from afar and was pleased to see them chasing the animals of the island and interacting with the Omega and the other young clones. “They’ve adapted quickly.” She said as Echo approached her side.

“Kids are resilient.”

“A childhood’s not something we ever had. Our lives have never been our own.”

“Until now. I’m heading to Pantora to help get some of the clones settled. I’m sure Senator Chuchi would find whatever you have to say very helpful for our cause.”

“I have a lot to make up for. I’d like to help out however I can.”

Echo rested a hand on her shoulder before he made for the shuttle once more.

Emerie followed a few paces behind.

As you and Hunter were making your way from the shuttle, Omega called out your name.

You paused and turned to see she had brought a group of kids over with her.

“These were the children I was telling you about. This is Eva, Jax, Sami and Bayrn.” She introduced each child in kind before she introduced you and said to them, “And this is my friend I told you about.”

“Hello.” You said warmly as they looked at you, both with curiosity and nervousness.

“I um, I filled them in on everything. I hope that’s okay.”

You nodded. “You contact Rex, I’ll catch up.” You said to Hunter whilst Omega went to go find Batcher. You crouched down in front of the remaining children. “Omega told me a lot about you too. I hear you all helped with her escape plan, that’s pretty impressive.” You said sincerely, keeping your voice tender and kind.

“Omega was the one that led it. It was all her. We didn’t do too much.” Jax said.

“A team is only as good as everyone in it. You all had a part to play, and you did it well.” You cleared your throat as you readied yourself for the next part. “Now, I know Omega has told you that I’m a Jedi, and did she tell you what that means?”

All of them nodded.

“Okay, that’s good. And I have to ask, have any of you ever like an object moved without you touching it, or you were somehow able to jump higher than you expected?”

You knew Baryn couldn’t really understand and wasn’t paying much attention as he babbled away in Sami’s arms, but you figured he was there for the same reasons as the rest of them nodded again.

“We’re going to look out for you whilst we work on getting you back to your families, but life will always be a bit different for you now, and you’ll still have to be careful. But I can teach you some things whilst you’re still here that should help and once you’re home, if you or your parents have any more questions, you’re welcome to come back.” You offered, smiling at them as they nodded. “Alright, that’s all from the grown up for today. Carry on exploring.” You said fondly before you stood up and went to rejoin Hunter and Omega

You, Hunter and Omega had taken up position by the weeping maya tree with Batcher lying by Omega’s side. You all watched as the clones walked around freely and the children from the vault got to enjoy being kids once more and it was a delightful sight to take in.

“With Hemlock gone and his data destroyed, they’re finally safe.” Omega said with relief.

“Mm-hmm.” Hunter agreed and released a relieved sigh of his own as the impact of that statement properly hit him. “And so are both of you.”

“Will it take long to find their families?”

“Rex and I are working on it, but we’ll look after them until then.”

“And that brings the adoptive parent tally up to eight- nine including Gungi.” You kidded affectionately before you laid down next to Hunter and rested your head in his lap.

“Like you didn’t just offer them that exact thing whilst I was speaking to him.” Hunter retorted playfully as he brushed the backs of his fingers across your cheek.

You stuck your tongue out at him before the sound of the shuttle powering up grabbed all of your attention. You raised your head and saw Echo getting ready to depart with some of the clones that wanted to continue the fight. All four of you dipped your heads and smiled in farewell.

“What about the rest of the clones?” Omega asked as she watched the shuttle leave. “Will they stay here on Pabu?”

“Well, it’s up to them. They’re free to follow their own path.” Hunter exhaled tiredly but kept his voice light as he said, “We’ve all fought enough battles for one lifetime. Now we get to choose who we want to be.”

“Like what?” Omega asked.

You smiled at Hunter and placed your head back down in his lap. You closed your eyes and let the sun’s warmth seep into your skin.

“Whatever we want, kid.” The girl leaned against his arm and his voice and face softened at the action, “Whatever we want.”

Then, as the Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair came to sit down with the three of you, Hunter stared down at your utterly content form and stroked a hand past your brow and through your hair.

He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to be next.

Post S3 oneshot>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @dominoeffectsworld, @allthingsimagines , @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femaleJedi!reader #hunter x female!reader #hunter x fem!reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #angst #fluff

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wyrmarchives · 6 months ago

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Nuclear

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Triggers: Non-canon, cursing/strong language.

Context of Soulmate AU: link

Oh fuck.

Really it all happened so fast. Him running to the chaos, civilians away from it.

The blast was relatively small in comparison to what it should’ve been. The bomb destroyed one building, the same one used as a lab; a parking garage, abandoned at that, but, it was still enough to cause panic to surrounding locals and tourists. It’s been like this for months. Small bombs, terrorist projects popping up around the world.

The 141 has been spread thin chasing the “experiments” down, but it’s been hard. It’s not just one organization; it’s multiple groups. Simon’s never been particularly good at science, and the height of his math skills is calculating the trajectory for a well placed bullet; but even he could see the appeal behind the mad scientist who sold a hypothesis on the dark web which kickstarted this shite.

“Polarized electrons and nuclei? (Hypothetical) Evolution of The Human Race and Advancement of Nature.”

That’s what Laswell read during the brief eight months ago. “They want to basically fry atoms in the air with nuclear radiation, and kickstart survival of the fittest to see what’ll happen.”

“So, mad scientists?” Price summed up with annoyance. Thumb drumming on the table as he leaned back in his chair.

“The hypothetical seems… Enlightenin’, ay?” Scottish brouge mocks. Voice grating as gum pops.

“Easy, Johnny.” Masked weight shifted in his chair, arms crossed; eyes glowered at the screen through balaclava. “We handle this like we handle the rest, aye?”

“Not exactly… It’s experimental right now.” Laswell gestures to the screen, click of the remote in hand; slide show flickering to the next page. Deleted and encrypted forums from illegal sites. “Intel managed to decode a majority, but compounds in the equations got scrubbed by the site’s moderator. We’ve got about half the equation on the board for bow, and it’s not pretty from what the Snoops gathered.” She glares at the formula on screen. “Basically, from what I was told, they charged the bombs with electricity by polarizing the nuclei before they split them. Kinda like forcing two magnets together until they shatter. Fortunately, because the shards after the explosion try to rotate and magnetize, we won’t see an explosion like world war two but it’s still pretty destructive.”

“Well, that’s assuring. Jus’ us against a clock then, no?” Gaz’s knee bounces; steady tap of heel dulls against the tile as his boot makes contact.

They found out later that the bombs were worse in other ways. The radiation had a larger area of effect; it started off with small reactions in people. Feelings of numbness in bodies, higher electrical conductivity that killed people with pacemakers and other assortments of medical devices… The bombs got more advanced with each “failure”; got more deadly… Then the narrative changed.

“Re: ‘Nuclear charged electrons and nuclei. Evolution of The Human Race and Advancement of Nature.’ What if we used 2 positive polars instead of 2 negative polars?”

Intel managed to scrub the site for the location of the new bomb, even though they didn’t get a time, it was still enough to deploy.

For some reason, his luck always seems to run out in the most inopportune moments; and his skin feels like it’s on fire as electricity chases up his veins… Shit.

They got there as the bomb had gone off. Landed not even 40 minutes prior, they’re lucky in all honesty that they didn’t make it into the garage; but that doesn’t stop the air that feels like bricks slamming through their chests, the impact after getting knocked off foot isn’t a new feeling… But the charged air is.

Thick, heavy, suffocating; it reminds him of Mexico, being buried alive- that’s not the jarring part… The electricity is; a dense charged fog that clouds around their feet in a dusty orange. A static shock with every ragged breath, every movement subtle or not. Slow electrocution, that’s what it feels like.

“Johnny?” Simon manages up to his knees, head tilted to glaze the Scotsman still laid out. He breathes despite the pain when the brunette groans, rolling onto his back.

“Aye, gona’ need ‘a pint aft’ this’, LT.” Soap mutters; breathing shallow and labored.

Price got the worst of it, always in lead. Gaz kneeling over him. “Broken, Cap’?”

“Not,” a huff, “yet, Sergeant.” He slowly sits up with help of the younger man.

“Never simple, ‘init?” Simon rumbles reaching his feet finally, head on a swivel; rumble, car alarms matching the ringing in his ears, civilians laid out. Some screaming, some silent; the consistency? Horror and shock, pain and fear. He huffs. “Orders, John?”

Deep breaths sound from the Captain as he catches air; trying to fuel his body past pain as he stands. Knee twisted no doubt by his limp, hand raising to his chest where his calloused hands grasp his radio. “Bravo Six to Watcher, do you copy? Over.”

“Watcher to Bravo Six, copy. Over.”

“Got a situation down ‘ere, Watcher. Timing was all off, bomb detonated. Over.”

A brief pause that Simon recognizes, no doubt Laswell cursing off comms.

“Copy, change objective. Aid and retreat. Clear site; sending EVAC. Over.”

“Copy. Over and out.” John nods. They have their orders; they organize and move.

It’s methodical. Swift. Local government doesn’t take long to send in guard and emergency personnel; code victims, organize, and aid.

Physical contact proves to be some disaster though after a few minutes of evacuation.

A shrill scream paired with a baritone cry; both dropping to ground where lightning seemingly struck between bodies… Then again, two men. Next an elderly couple who made it out alive on the sidewalk.

Blue. Purple. Gold. The light doesn’t discriminate, nor the order of choice to strike. It’s seemingly at random. Smell of burnt flesh, and angry scars…

“Bloody hell!” Price’s voice rings, dragging a body by vest away from a woman. Gaz, the first of the team to drop, out cold, but alive.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny, the closer of the two rushes to aid, med kit already out and open as his knees make contact with concrete. Torch in gloved hand checking the colored man’s eyes for dilation.

It’s enough to put pause on rescue. Everyone freezing in place as eight people almost simultaneously collapsed at first attempts to help.

Dark eyes scavenge for answer. The man and woman, the two men, the couple, gaz- gloves. Bare skin.

“Nobody touch anyone.” Simon’s voice carries. “It’s contact. Flesh.”

Orders, and people follow. EMS extra attentive; local forces grabbing gloves from pockets, police officers grabbing rubber gloves from kit.

Simon looks at his own gloves; the knuckles scuffed and tore from the blast when he landed in the street. Protective plating torn from the thick leather. Thank God for gear.

He has orders, his gaze lifts to John. A shared nod as they both move once Garrick coughs and wakes. Disoriented but fine otherwise by what MacTavish can tell. They have a job to do, no matter the circumstances.

Simon works alone, pulling people from rubble before handing them off to a medic/firefighter/cop on standby.

It was an accident when his grip slipped; his eyes meeting bleary pained ones, and Shit. He understands, eyes locked with yours as your hand wrapped around his in attempt not to fall back down, fingertips brushing against his bare knuckles.

Fireworks? No. Thunderstruck. That’s what the jolt feels like when electricity chases up his arm. Contact arcing like lava as the skin whelps instantly to scar. Like a knock to the jaw, stunning function of brain.

Yeah, he gets what that lightning means.

It means when he wakes up, he ain’t lettin’ you go, luv.

Tag List: @wickizer

Thank you for your support! ❤️

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technologywhis · 2 months ago

Text

Oh yes — that’s the legendary CIA Triad in cybersecurity. It’s not about spies, but about the three core principles of keeping information secure. Let’s break it down with some flair:

⸻

1. Confidentiality

Goal: Keep data private — away from unauthorized eyes.

Think of it like locking away secrets in a vault. Only the right people should have the keys.

Examples:

• Encryption

• Access controls

• Two-factor authentication (2FA)

• Data classification

Threats to it:

• Data breaches

• Shoulder surfing

• Insider threats

⸻

2. Integrity

Goal: Ensure data is accurate and trustworthy.

No tampering, no unauthorized changes — the data you see is exactly how it was meant to be.

Examples:

• Checksums & hashes

• Digital signatures

• Version control

• Audit logs

Threats to it:

• Malware modifying files

• Man-in-the-middle attacks

• Corrupted files from system failures

⸻

3. Availability

Goal: Data and systems are accessible when needed.

No point in having perfect data if you can’t get to it, right?

Examples:

• Redundant systems

• Backup power & data

• Load balancing

• DDoS mitigation tools

Threats to it:

• Denial-of-service (DoS/DDoS) attacks

• Natural disasters

• Hardware failure

⸻

Why it matters?

Every cybersecurity policy, tool, and defense strategy is (or should be) built to support the CIA Triad. If any one of these pillars breaks, your system’s security is toast.

Want to see how the CIA Triad applies to real-world hacking cases or a breakdown of how you’d protect a small business network using the Triad? I got you — just say the word.

#cybersecurity #artificial intelligence #coding #computer science #cyber security #apple #android

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pleaseletmeinibeg453 · 23 days ago

Text

Paper cuts

|Jelsa, Modern AU, Enemies with Benefits, Fake dating, Forced Proximity|

Agent Elsa Stenford [NID-SO-ES-07] — Operation Report Upload Log

—Logged into secure terminal: Vienna Safehouse Terminal-2

—Date: 2022-07-08

—Time (UTC): 23:16

—Connected to secure node: NIDNet

—Report file: OP_SILENTRAVEN_AAR.enc

—Encryption status: Secured with NID Master Key — encryption signature verified (Checksum ID: F1A5-7C9B)

—Recipient(s): Jack Frost, Section Chief Special Operations (SO-92A), Acting Division Supervisor (DS-4), National Intelligence Directorate

—Transmission channel: Priority-One Secure Uplink (Classified Level: TOP SECRET)

—Transmission status: COMPLETE — audit log updated (Reference Log ID: ES07-0525-2214)

—Backup status: Encrypted local backup stored (Partition ES-07-SAFE); master copy uploaded to Central Ops Archive (Vault-4)

—Field confirmation: Agent ES-07 signed digital attestation; no tampering detected; self-authentication successful

Note: Automatic alert dispatched to Division Supervisor terminal. Clearance authentication required upon access.

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

Operation Silent Raven is an ongoing mission targeting a covert illicit arms trafficking network operating primarily in South Carolina. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Delete ‘ongoing mission’ — this is filler from someone unfamiliar with concise reporting. Vague and redundant.] This report details recent operational progress, intelligence collection, and actionable recommendations. [Flag—Acting supervisor: You clearly do not understand report structure. This useless sentence wastes time and space.]

The primary objective is to identify, monitor, and dismantle the arms trafficking chain responsible for the flow of small arms and light weapons through various transit points in the region. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Restating obvious without any specifics or measurable targets reflects poor understanding of operational goals. Omit.] HUMINT sources have verified the existence of a new maritime transit corridor utilizing the seaport. [Flag—Acting supervisor: “HUMINT sources” is lazy projection. You apparently cannot be trusted to identify sources properly. Brackets demonstrate careless drafting.] SIGINT intercepted encrypted communications that suggest coordination between traffickers and local facilitators. [Flag—Acting supervisor: ‘Suggest’ is weak speculation, unbefitting a professional intelligence report. Either confirm or remove this guesswork.]

Financial forensics have traced suspicious funds transfers totaling approximately $8 million USD linked to traffickers. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Provide specifics or this bland, meaningless statement reveals superficial analysis.] Technical surveillance detected multiple covert meetings in [Urban Centers], corroborated by photographic evidence. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Using placeholders signals either incompetence or utter disregard for accuracy.] On 2022-06-21, interdiction team, operating with local law enforcement, seized 250 illegal firearms at the port city warehouse. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Poorly structured sentence; the muddled passive voice further obscures the facts you apparently cannot clearly present.] Two principal suspects were detained, providing critical intelligence that identified higher-level facilitators. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Passive construction and vague attribution further demonstrate your failure to take ownership of this data.]

Informant “Falcon” supplied actionable intelligence regarding a planned arms shipment scheduled for early June. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Finally, a clear statement, but unfortunately, it’s buried among verbosity and filler.] Operational security protocols were heightened after detecting possible surveillance by hostile intelligence actors. [Flag—Acting supervisor: ‘Possible’ surveillance indicates your uncertainty and it undermines the entire assessment and betrays inadequate situational awareness.] The network disruption has temporarily halted major arms transfers. [Flag—Acting supervisor: ‘Temporarily’ suggests you lack the insight or confidence to forecast outcomes. Such ambiguity is unacceptable.]

Surveillance and intelligence collection continue focusing on secondary facilitators and financing channels. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Non-specific, passive phrasing again. You appear unable to report with decisiveness or clarity.] Coordination with allied intelligence agencies is ongoing to leverage broader interdiction efforts. [Flag—Acting supervisor: “Allied intelligence agencies” — weak and meaningless. Omit.] Risk assessment indicates elevated threat levels against NID assets involved in this operation. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Without elaboration, this statement is worthless. The absence of detail is either negligence or incompetence. I’m leaning towards the latter, although the first one also seems to be your defining trait.] Approve expansion of covert operations targeting secondary facilitators and financiers. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Recommendations lack essential resource planning and rationale, further exposing your inexperience.] Request additional SIGINT and counter-surveillance resources. [Flag—Acting supervisor: ‘Additional’ is meaningless without quantification. This sloppy request reflects poor operational understanding.] Initiate an inter-agency task force to address cross-border financing and logistics. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Unsubstantiated recommendation with no defined objectives — this is amateurish.] Continue monitoring and protection of key HUMINT sources and operatives. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Failing to specify protection protocols reflects a dangerous oversight on your part.] Attachments include interdiction team after-action report, financial transaction analyses, SIGINT intercept summaries, and photographic documentation of seized arms and facilities. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Referencing attachments without actual inclusion indicates either incompetence or disregard for proper reporting. Which one is it?]

Flag—Acting supervisor: This report is miserably inadequate and reflects a disturbing lack of professionalism and capability. The careless placeholders, vague assertions, passive voice, and speculative language betray your failure to grasp even the basic standards of intelligence reporting. Such work not only wastes time but actively hampers operational efficiency. REWRITE.

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

Secure Directive

From: Jack Frost

[Code: NID-SO-JF-01]

Section Chief, Special Operations / Acting Division Supervisor [Code SO-92A/DS-4]

To: Agent Elsa Stenford [Code:NID-SO-ES-07]

Subject: RE: Report Review – Operation Silent Raven

Classification: TOP SECRET // EYES ONLY

Agent Stenford,

Your submitted report for Operation Silent Raven is wholly inadequate and reflects a concerning lack of analytical rigor, operational discipline, and professional attention. The presence of unresolved placeholders, vague assertions, speculative conclusions, and critical data gaps is unacceptable at this operational level and wastes valuable time and resources.

This level of oversight is incompatible with the standards expected from an intelligence officer assigned to this unit. You are to:

1. Eliminate all placeholders and provide verified, cross-checked intelligence.

2. Remove speculative or assumptive language; include only confirmed, actionable data.

3. Rewrite sections for clarity, precision, and direct accountability — passive formulations are unacceptable.

4. Deliver detailed, concrete descriptions of sources, operational locations, timelines, and outcomes without ambiguity.

5. Ensure all referenced materials are attached, properly labeled, and internally consistent.

6. Strengthen recommendations by specifying exact resource needs, operational impacts, and executable directives.

7. Fully address risk assessments with defined threats, probability ratings, and specific mitigation strategies.

The supervisor-annotated version of your report (File ID: SR-Report-Rev1-JF) has been uploaded to the secure review system. You are to address all marked corrections and resubmit the fully corrected report no later than 1800 hours today. No further extensions will be granted.

Jack Frost

[Code: NID-SO-JF-01]

Section Chief, Special Operations (SO-92A)

Acting Division Supervisor (DS-4)

National Intelligence Directorate

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

Agent Elsa Stenford [Code: NID-SO-ES-07] — Report Upload Log (Revised Submission)

—Logged into secure terminal: Vienna Safehouse Terminal-2

—Date: 2022-07-09

—Time (UTC): 17:38

—Connected to secure node: NIDNet

—Report file: OP_SIENTRAVEN_AAR_v2.enc

—Encryption status: Secured with NID Master Key — encryption signature verified (Checksum ID: F1A9-7C3B-R2)

—Recipient(s): Jack FrostJack Frost (NID-SO-JF-01), Section Chief Special Operations (SO-92A), Acting Division Supervisor (DS-4), National Intelligence Directorate

—Transmission channel: Priority-One Secure Uplink (Classified Level: TOP SECRET)

—Transmission status: COMPLETE — audit log updated (Reference Log ID: ES07-0525-2316-R2)

—Backup status: Encrypted local backup stored (Partition ES-07-SAFE); master copy uploaded to Central Ops Archive (Vault-4, Revised Submission Folder)

—Field confirmation: Agent ES-07 signed digital attestation; no tampering detected; self-authentication successful

Note: Automatic alert dispatched to Division Supervisor terminal. Clearance authentication required upon access. Revision flag registered under Audit Protocol 4B.

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

Secure Directive

From: Jack Frost [Code: NID-SO-JF-01]

Section Chief, Special Operations / Acting Division Supervisor [Code: SO-92A/DS-4]

To: Elsa Stenford [Code: NID-SO-ES-07]

Subject: RE: Secure Directive – Operation Silent Raven Report (Revised Submission)

Agent Stenford,

I have completed my review of your revised report on Operation Silent Raven. The annotated document is attached under:

Attachment: SilentRaven_Rev2_ES07_JFcomments.secure

To be precise: this submission remains below acceptable operational standards. Your continued use of speculative phrasing, unsupported assertions, and vague recommendations demonstrates a concerning lack of analytical discipline. This is not a matter of inexperience. You are not a trainee, Agent. At your level and position, you are expected to understand and apply the standards of rigor, precision, and clarity required in all agency reporting. That expectation is not optional.

Your report exhibits repeated failures:

1. Speculative language where concrete analysis is required;

2. Lack of referenced source attachments, despite multiple directives;

3. Unquantified risk assessments, absent methodological support;

4. Action recommendations devoid of operational specificity.

This is not a learning exercise nor is it a second chance, Agent Stenford. I should not be required to remind you of the foundational protocols governing intelligence reporting. You are expected to deliver work that reflects your clearance level, your operational rank, and your assigned responsibilities — without need for remedial oversight.

You are hereby directed to produce a final, fully compliant, actionable revision and submit it under secure protocol no later than 1300 hours tomorrow. Failure to meet this directive will result in formal escalation to the Division Office for immediate performance review. There will be no further instructions, no extended clarifications, and no tolerance for repeated submission failures.

Jack Frost [Code: NID-SO-JF-01]

Section Chief, Special Operations (SO-92A)

Acting Division Supervisor (DS-4)

National Intelligence Directorate

Operation Silent Raven: A report

1.⁠ ⁠Executive Summary:

—The target group’s network activity has intensified in the last 72 hours, with encrypted communications suggesting a planned operation within the capital region. [Flag—Acting supervisor: “Suggesting” is a charming euphemism for “guessing.” Precision is not your forte, is it?]

—HUMINT sources indicate the possible involvement of an external actor, potentially destabilizing regional security. [Flag—Acting supervisor: “Possible” and “potentially” — a truly inspiring display of hedging. I applaud your commitment to ambiguity.] While these indicators warrant heightened surveillance, conclusive evidence regarding the exact nature and timing of the planned event remains unconfirmed. [COMMENT: I look forward to the day when ‘unconfirmed’ is replaced by ‘confirmed.’ Continue taking baby steps, we’re all here to babysit you and instruct on every level, not to do our job.]

2.⁠ ⁠Intelligence Sources:

SIGINT: Intercepted encrypted transmissions on frequencies 8.1 GHz to 8.3 GHz, believed to originate from multiple cell towers in the downtown sector. [Flag—Acting supervisor: “Believed.” A masterclass in non-committal language. Bold. Yet, it fails to meet the minimum standards of verification.] Metadata analysis aligns with previous hostile activity patterns.

[Flag—Acting supervisor: Please specify the parameters of your analysis. Otherwise, it reads as a hopeful suggestion rather than intelligence.]

HUMINT: Confidential informant reported unusual meetings near industrial sector 4. Reliability assessed as moderate; corroborating SIGINT incomplete. [Flag—Acting supervisor: ‘Moderate’ is an imaginative way of saying ‘I’m not sure.’ The agency appreciates your creativity but prefers facts.]

IMINT: Limited satellite imagery from 23-25 MAY shows increased vehicular movements near potential staging areas, but imagery quality insufficient for identification of personnel or equipment. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Including non-identifiable imagery is an excellent way to fill pages. Whether it aids operations is another matter. But who cares?]

3.⁠ ⁠Operational Assessment:

The convergence of SIGINT and HUMINT suggests preparatory steps for an operation targeting critical infrastructure. [Flag—Acting supervisor: ‘Suggests’ again. I see a pattern. Perhaps next time try ‘confirms’ or ‘demonstrates.’] Risk assessment places the likelihood of attack at moderate (probability 0.55), with potential impact categorized as high due to target significance. [Flag—Acting supervisor: : Quantify your methodology. Numbers plucked from thin air are less useful than no numbers at all.] Recommended actions include intensifying electronic surveillance, deploying field assets for direct observation, and liaising with allied cyber-intelligence units to monitor digital footprints. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Vague directives are the hallmark of an inexperienced analyst. Details and accountability please.]

4.⁠ ⁠Recommendations:

Immediate deployment of SIGINT intercept teams in the identified frequency bands. Enhanced HUMINT debriefings with source ES-27 to confirm meeting details. [Flag—Acting supervisor: The lack of specificity here suggests an admirable level of trust in the reader’s imagination.] Coordination with Cyber Ops for real-time network traffic analysis. [Flag—Acting supervisor: Nomenclature alone does not constitute a plan. Flesh this out.]

Notes [Acting Supervisor] :

—Formatting inconsistent with NID operational report guidelines. You’ve transformed a simple formatting standard into an elusive art form. Bravo.

—Failure to attach referenced supporting materials AGAIN. This recurring omission hinders operational efficacy. Consider attaching documents next time.

—In conclusion, REWRITE.

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

Agent [Code: NID-SO-ES-07] — Field Report Upload Log (Revised Submission)

—Logged into secure terminal: Vienna Safehouse Terminal-2

—Date: 2022-07-10

—Time (UTC): 13:00

—Connected to secure node: NIDNet

—Report file: OP_SILENTRAVEN_AAR_v3.enc

—Encryption status: Secured with NID Master Key — encryption signature verified (Checksum ID: F1A9-7C3B-R2)

—Recipient(s): Jack Frost, Section Chief Special Operations (SO-92A), Acting Division Supervisor (DS-4), NID

—Transmission channel: Priority-One Secure Uplink (Classified Level: TOP SECRET)

—Transmission status: COMPLETE — audit log updated (Reference Log ID: ES07-0710-1300-R2)

—Backup status: Encrypted local backup stored (Partition ES-07-SAFE); master copy uploaded to Central Ops Archive (Vault-4, Revised Submission Folder)

—Field confirmation: Agent ES-07 signed digital attestation; no tampering detected; self-authentication successful

Note: Automatic alert dispatched to Division Supervisor terminal. Clearance authentication required upon access. Revision flag registered under Audit Protocol 4B.

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

Secure Directive

From: Jack Frost [NID-SO-JF-01]

Section Chief, Special Operations / Acting Division Supervisor [Code: NID-SO-92A/DS-4]

To: Elsa Stenford [Code: NID-SO-ES-07]

Subject: RE: Secure Directive – Operation Silent Raven Report , Revocation of Field Authority and Immediate Reassignment

Agent Stenford,

I was informed last afternoon that due to shifting operational priorities, the report in question [Ops Silent Raven] is no longer required.

After review of your latest submission — the revised report you provided earlier today — I must formally acknowledge that the material remains below acceptable operational standards. While I did not realistically anticipate any significant improvement, it is nonetheless disappointing that even after detailed corrective input, your output failed to meet the basic analytical and procedural thresholds expected of an intelligence officer at your level.

However, the time I was forced to expend personally correcting and annotating your repeated errors constitutes an unacceptable diversion of supervisory resources. You have now occupied more of this division’s time and attention than your current role warrants.

Accordingly, effective immediately, your independent field authority is revoked. You are reassigned to trailing support under Intelligence Officer Logan Parrish [CODE: NID-SO-LP-33], Team Blue. While Officer Parrish holds the same formal rank as you, his superior reliability and competence justify his lead role in this arrangement.

You are to operate strictly under Officer Parrish’s direction, with no independent decision-making or external communications without prior clearance. This corrective assignment will remain in place until further notice and serves as a necessary intervention to address the persistent deficits in your performance.

You are to report to Team Blue at 07:00 hours tomorrow, prepared and fully compliant. Written acknowledgment of this directive is required by 16:00 hours today. Noncompliance will result in immediate formal disciplinary action.

Jack Frost [Code: NID-SO-JF-01]

Section Chief, Special Operations (SO-92A)

Acting Division Supervisor (DS-4)

National Intelligence Directorate

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

Elsa Stenford read the message over and over again, because she knew it wasn’t serious. It must be a mistake. A joke. That’s what it was. Maybe if she read it again, it would change, it would shift and it would fix itself. So she read it, the words physically burning her, over and over again, but it stayed the same. She just stared at it, mouth hanging open, eyes wide with shock, unblinking.

“Elsa?” Merida’s voice shattered the silence in her head. “Are you—”

“THAT MISERABLE FUCKING BASTARD! THAT FUCKING—” She stopped herself, but there was just too much rage and hate in her, enough for her to combust and paint the walls red. "FUCKING PIECE OF SCUM! I FUCKING HATE HIM, THAT USELESS, ARROGANT, SLIMY RAT!"

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

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