#i just realized the alphas were still in training for most of the cadet-raising

[redbean-nom]

Cadets

(aka trash children, chaos children, and children who understand 98 is getting graded on this)

Inspired by @thefoundationproject! Closeups under the cut:

jesse got this pic from jangotat:

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Mutual Misunderstandings - Kirishima Eijirou - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​​ Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / F!Reader Rating: 18+ (Contains smut) Words: 5,866 Warnings: Quirkless AU, Aged up characters (they adulty adults!), unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), very very light choking, reader has a bit of a size kink. AN: Another entry for the BNHAREM collab! This time we’re writing roommates, and I somehow managed to snag Kirishima! I’m super excited for all of the fics coming this time around, so make sure you click on the link below and read some of the other submissions!

This is my first time writing Kirishima and I’m super nervous about it. I’ve always really loved him because he’s just the best boy and he’s so brave and strong and gentle and I just want to cuddle him into oblivion. I also firmly believe he’s going to be a huge tank of a man when he gets older and I’m going with that vision of him here.

Collab Masterlist is HERE My Masterlist is HERE Buy me a KoFi if you’re feeling froggy HERE

------

You stood in your living room, your jaw hanging open, staring at him in shock. Kirishima had a similar look on his face, the two of you pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme. 

“You mean to tell me you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” You finally choked out, blinking owlishly at your best friend and roommate. “I thought you liked Mina!”

Kirishima sputtered, shaking his head. “No way! She’s my friend, we’ve known each other since middle school, you know that.” He moved to cross his arms across his broad chest. “And anyway, there’s no way you like me, you have a crush on Bakugou!”

There was no way this was happening right now. “No! I don’t like Bakugou like that! He’s a pain in my fucking ass, and I think about murdering him on a daily basis.” Facepalming, you groaned. “Are we really this stupid?”

How did you end up here?

It started back in your first year of college. 

The parties and the seemingly endless studying had become a comfortable routine for you. So what if you were sleep-deprived and living on cup noodles? You were getting your higher education and ready to tackle the real world head-on in just a few short years.

A pipe dream, but still.

You had your best friend Shinsou by your side and a customer loyalty card at the campus coffee shop and everything was right with the world. You’d even managed to get paired up with Hitoshi’s (sort of) boyfriend for an English project, which was a better outcome than what you could have hoped for, not having to work with some rando on something that would be a large chunk of your grade.

Kaminari had suggested that you work on it at his place with the promise of Doritos, and you agreed. Who were you to turn down snacks? Poor college students needed those cheese dusted carbs to survive. 

The Upsilon Alpha fraternity was one of the best and most popular on campus, and at first, you found it almost laughable that Kaminari was a member. At first glance, he seemed like a total space cadet stoner who didn’t belong in college, much less as a member of such an esteemed frat. However, after getting to know him, you knew that he was most definitely all of those things, but he was also insanely smart when it counted and kept above average grades in his classes (except for math, but with him being a bisexual disaster human, it came with the territory).

You had made some decent progress on your project after about an hour. The outline was done, and you were discussing how you would be presenting it since you had a choice between a written essay or a PowerPoint presentation. 

Without warning, the kitchen door flew open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it.

“Well, the quiet was nice while it lasted, huh?” Kaminari blinked, completely unfazed by the commotion, leaning back in his chair and eating a chip.

Your gaze flitted over to the man who was glaring at the two of you from the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets. Blonde hair that looked so much like an explosion was sticking up in every direction on his head, and you felt his red eyes trained on you as he took in the room. “What are you doing, Dunceface?”

Kaminari didn’t answer right away, raising his eyebrow and grinning at the new arrival. “Hey, Kacchan.”

If the bulging vein in the man’s forehead was any indication, Kaminari had said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth, and you assumed it was to threaten your project partner, but he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Bakubro, be nice. Kami has company.” 

The man that appeared beyond the angry pomeranian took your breath away. He was...big. Like, his shoulders were so wide you wondered how he was going to fit through the doorway. And he was tall, with spiked red hair making him look even taller, big red eyes and sharp teeth, and the most beautiful smile you’d ever laid eyes on.

Blonde and grumpy grumbled, moving aside to let giant and red into the room, who then turned that megawatt million-dollar smile on you, and you tried your best not to stare at his biceps or the way his shirt clung to his chest.

Was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hi! I’m Kirishima, and this ray of sunshine is Bakugou, we’re some of Kaminari’s frat brothers!” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you smiled up at him, taking his giant hand in yours. The size of his fingers sent your brain reeling, and you knew you needed to get yourself under control before you started moaning out loud in front of him. 

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you! Kami and I are just working on an English project.” You explained, grinning back up at him, trying to keep the lust off of your face. You didn’t want to look like some kind of freak.

He took his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, you must be Shinsou’s friend! Kami told us you’d be coming over, I forgot about that.” He turned, watching as Bakugou slunk over to the fridge and opened the door. “Don’t let us bother you, we’re just grabbing some water before we head to the gym.”

Kaminari snorted. “Dude, if you get any beefier we’re going to need to remodel the doors so you can fit through them.”

Kirishima turned as red as his hair, glancing at you, before he grinned at his friend. “If I stop, no one will be able to bench press you and Sero at the same time at the next party.”

“Bro, that is my favorite party trick of yours.” He sat up straighter, looking forlorn at the thought of it not happening anymore. “Okay, fine, go to the gym.”

Bakugou grumbled from behind him something that sounded like “I could bench press four of you if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could, buddy.” Kirishima slung his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder. “Okay, we’re out of here. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Good luck with your project!”

Bakugou grunted and shoved a water bottle at Kirishima, shrugging out from under his arm and leaving the room. Kirishima smiled at you when you said goodbye, hurrying after his sour-faced friend and leaving you and Kaminari to your work.

“Your housemates are...interesting.” You managed, still trying to wrap your head around the red-haired man.

Kaminari snorted. “Kirishima is the walking definition of sunshine, and Bakugou is...well, he takes some getting used to. But he’s not a bad guy.”

You just hummed, chewing on your pen absently. “Can he actually bench press you?”

“Fuck yeah. He does it one-handed. You should come to our next party and see for yourself.”

Keeping your face as neutral as possible, you nodded. “Maybe I can convince Shinsou to come with me.” Wiggling your eyebrows at Kaminari when he blushed, you turned back to the notebook that lay open in front of you. “Come on, let’s figure this out so we can talk more about your intentions with my best friend.”

--

You did show up to the next UA frat party, Shinsou in tow. Your purple-haired bestie was grumbling the whole way, his hands shoved in his pockets. It didn’t stop him from making fun of how short your skirt was and teasing you about how you’d done nothing but talk about Kirishima since the day you’d met him.

“He’s like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Y/N. Clumsy and adorable.”

“He’s definitely big. I’d like to climb him like a tree.” You linked your arm with his, walking up to the giant house, the windows already rattling with the bass pumping through the speakers inside.

“You’re disgusting. I am appalled and also proud to call you my best friend.” Sarcastic as usual, he let you drag him along without a fuss.

“That sounds about right.”

The party was in full swing, half the campus milling around inside the house with red plastic cups in hand. You found Kaminari almost immediately, shoving Shinsou towards him and making your way to the kitchen to find yourself a drink. 

“Y/N!” Kirishima was in front of you almost immediately, giant cat eyes and his shark tooth smile lighting up the room. “Kami mentioned you might show up!”

Blushing, you nodded, suddenly losing the ability to form words. He was wearing a tank top, his arm muscles on display, and you took a moment to thank the Lord for the blessing before you. 

“You want a drink?” 

You realized you were staring, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

His large hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he tugged you through the crowd in the kitchen and out towards the back porch. You tried not to think about how your skin was burning under his touch. You needed to get a grip.

He got to work on the keg, pumping the handle on the top and grabbing you a cup, tilting it a bit as he filled it with beer. 

“Hey, shitty hair! Beer pong!” You turned to see Bakugou standing on the other side of the large wooden deck, his arm resting on the shoulder of a tall and lanky brown-haired boy. “Sero here wants to break up the dream team! Find a partner!”

Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, hang on!” He turned to you, handing you your drink. “So, you play beer pong?”

Bringing the cup to your lips, you tilted your head back and chugged your beer, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand when you’d finished. Kirishima was staring at you with wide eyes, looking surprised but pleased. “Yeah. I’m better when I’m drunk, though.”

He held out his hand for the empty cup, moving to fill it up again, his grin never faltering. “Let’s go kick their asses.”

--

That was the beginning of your friendship with Kirishima. What had started as a crush on the red-haired man had turned into a companionship that you couldn’t ever see yourself without. That was why you never said a word about how you really felt.

As cliché as it was, you didn’t know how you’d survived without the guy. He was nothing short of amazing. He was a great listener, and he gave good advice. He was always there when you needed him, bringing you soup when you were sick, going on late-night snack runs when you were up all night studying for exams, showing up with chocolate and tampons when it was your time of the month.

Shinsou had always done those things for you, but he was spending a lot of time with his boyfriend now. You weren’t upset about it though, you thought they were the cutest and you didn’t want to third wheel their time together, so you hung out with Kirishima and Bakugou a lot more often. 

As Kaminari had told you on that first day, Bakugou truly wasn’t a bad guy. His attitude got on your nerves though, and you envisioned punching him in the face at least four times a day, but you didn’t dislike him. He and Kirishima were best friends, so he was a part of the package, and you learned to deal with him.

So it was a no-brainer when Kirishima and Bakugou approached you and asked if you wanted to get an apartment with them once you’d graduated. With the three of you living together, you were able to afford a nicer apartment than you’d ever dreamed of having that was in a central location and only a few train stops away from where your respective jobs were located.

Things were going well, and you’d done a decent job of keeping your true feelings for Kirishima to yourself. It helped that he’d never dated anyone, and you were free to lust after him quietly, under the impression that no one had caught on to how you really felt, perfectly content to continue as you had been since the day you’d met him. 

The only wrench in your plans of quiet pining was Mina Ashido.

Mina was awesome, and you loved her to pieces. She was one of the only other females in your friend group and had been around since you’d gotten closer to the boys in the frat that first year of college. She was the perfect person to go to when you needed some self-care nights, always down to put on a face mask and paint your nails, and she was the best shopping partner.

However, you were thoroughly convinced that Kirishima liked her. 

You’d noticed, as far back as your freshman year, how they always gravitated towards each other in social settings. Mina was always one of the last ones to leave when you went out back then, always the one Kirishima threw his arm around when you walked back to campus from the bar.

It was part of the reason you’d become close with Bakugou in the first place. Whenever Kiri was with Mina, you always sidled up to the explosive blonde, teasing him to distract yourself from the way your heart was squeezing in your chest. 

Neither of them had ever mentioned having more than just a platonic, friendly relationship with each other, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got whenever you saw them together.

It’s called jealousy, you idiot.

You had nothing to be jealous about though. Kirishima was your friend, and that’s all he would ever be.

--

Things had been going well, at least that’s what you’d thought. And then this morning had happened.

It was Saturday, which was your normal grocery shopping day. You and Bakugou had taken on the burden of shopping for groceries for the apartment. You’d allowed Kirishima to go once and he came home with more junk food than should be allowed in one cart, and half of the things on the list you’d given him missing, and more protein powder than should be legally allowed.

Bakugou had worked out a system and your grocery shopping trips were like a well-oiled machine that took no longer than an hour out of your day, and you were grateful for your grumpy friend and his penchant for being overly organized.

You finished getting dressed, ready to get this over with so you could use the rest of the day to play video games and be generally lazy. Walking into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to see your roommates glaring at each other, which was normal for one of them, and uncharacteristic for the other.

“Everything okay?” Your eyes darted between the two men, taking in Kirishima’s stiff posture and clenched jaw. 

“Fine. I’m going shopping alone today.” Bakugou grunted, turning away from his best friend.

Puzzled, you frowned. “What? Why?”

Bakugou stopped in the doorway, turning to face the both of you, looking thoroughly fed up. He lifted his hand and pointed. “The two of you are making me want to commit myself. I’ve been dealing with this shit for years, and it ends today. You’re in love with each other. Figure your shit out and fuck already. I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

You gaped after him as he turned again, giving you both the middle finger over his shoulder as he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

And that brings us up to speed.

“Are we really this stupid?” You asked, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back.

Kirishima sighed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Since when?”

Snorting, you flopped down on the couch, rubbing at your face tiredly. “Truthfully? Since the moment we met.” You guessed the cat was out of the bag, so you might as well tell him everything. “In the kitchen at the frat house.”

“When you came over to work on that project with Denki?” His eyebrows furrowed, an adorably confused look on his face. “Are you telling me I’ve been pushing you at Bakugou for nearly 5 years for no reason?”

“Yeah, you could stop doing that at any time and I would appreciate it. Unless you want me to strangle him to death.”

Kirishima flopped down on the other end of the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’ve liked you just as long, you know? I saw you sitting in our kitchen and I thought I was going to throw up.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel good about myself then you’ve failed miserably.”

“No! I just mean, the butterflies-” He groaned. “Shut up and let me get this out okay?” 

Smirking at him, you turned your body, leaning against the back of the couch. “Okay, sorry, keep going.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, red eyes trained on your face. “Do you remember the frat party?”

“Which one?”

“That first one, when you chugged that beer in front of me and then helped me kick Bakugou’s ass at beer pong?” He waited for you to nod before he spoke again. “I’d never felt so enamored with anyone in my entire life.” Kirishima let his gaze fall to his hands. “You were so awesome and funny and beautiful and you kept up with my friends and their dumbass antics like a pro and I just...I couldn’t believe you were real. I just kept telling myself that you would never be into someone like me, so I decided that if we could be friends for life then that would be enough.”

“Ei…” You trailed off, frowning. You’d always known he tended to get down on himself. You and Bakugou had done your best to convince him he was worth much more than he let himself believe, but sometimes he needed a reminder.

“I know, I know. I don’t feel that way anymore, but at the time I did.” His hair was down, tied back in a loose bun, bits of his fringe falling in his eyes. He pushed a piece of it behind his ear and kept going. “So I tried to keep my distance, kept on hanging around with Mina, tried not to think about how much I wanted to be with you. She kept telling me I needed to tell you, kept rubbing it in that I wasn’t being manly about it. But you were hanging out with Bakugou so much I just figured you liked him and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall forward. “I was hanging out with Bakugou because I couldn’t stand seeing you with Mina so much. I was jealous.” Realization hit, and your eyes snapped open. “Mina knew?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one I told.”

“All those times we hung out and she never said a word.” Chuckling, you shook your head. “I told Shinsou. It’s like the only secret he’s ever kept from Kaminari. I threatened to mutilate him beyond all recognition if he mentioned a word to anyone.” You grinned sheepishly at him.

Kirishima huffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Bakugou. Your threats are just as creative as his.”

“Speaking of, I guess he figured it out on his own then.”

Humming, he shrugged. “He was always the smartest one out of all of us.” He looked over at you again. “So, now it’s your turn.”

Raising an eyebrow, you blinked at him. “For what? A heartfelt confession?” 

“It’s only fair. I told you how I felt. What did you think when you first met me?”

You felt your ears get hot. “Do you want the truth? Because it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Shifting himself on the couch, he leaned against the arm, tanned forearms resting on his knees. “Oh, this should be good.” He teased, grinning.

“Shut up.” You sighed, preparing yourself for his reaction. “When you walked into the kitchen that day, my first thoughts were...uh...pretty dirty. Like X rated.”

Eyes wide, he stared at you. “Really? How dirty are we talking here?”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling your answer behind them.

“Sorry, what was that?” He was fucking with you again, you could hear the smirk in his voice, and you were tempted to smack him with a throw pillow.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your hands from your face, looking him right in the eye. “I said, I wanted you to step on me.”

Sputtering, he blinked a few times. “What?”

“I mean, you were this...tank, Eijirou. Like this giant man with gorgeous eyes and a killer smile, with the personality of fucking sunshine and you had these big hands and I wanted you to wrap them around my throat and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, seriously?” His cheeks were as red as his hair, his hands flailing as he stopped your tirade. “You wanted me to…?

Nodding solemnly, you looked him dead in the eyes. “Yes, and I’ve thought about that like every day since then.” 

“I am learning things about you today that I never even imagined.” Blowing a breath out he slumped back, looking shook.

You hurried on, wanting him to know it was more than that. “I mean, after that I got to know you and I love everything about you, Ei. I just, you’re such a good person, better than I could ever be. You care about everyone and you’re always there for me, for all of us, whenever we need you. You’re strong and funny and brave. I always know that I can rely on you.” Sniffling, you couldn’t help the emotions bubbling to the surface. 

“But you also want me to step on you.” He was grinning, his eyes a little wet, too.

Wiping at your eyes with your fingers, you chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing your arm and tugging. “Come here.”

Crawling across the couch, you laid down between his parted legs, your head resting on his chest. He wrapped his giant arms around you and kissed the top of your head. 

“Now what?” You asked, realizing you were afraid of the answer. What happened now?

He hummed, and you heard the sound vibrate through his chest. “I was going to suggest a nap, but now I keep thinking about what you said…”

You lifted up to ask what he meant, shifting your body and freezing when you felt something hard brush against your thigh. Eyes meeting his, you bit your lip at the look on his face, feeling a blush creep over your face and down your neck. “Yeah?”

“I figured we can do things out of order a little bit, right? I’m going to take you on a real date and court you properly, like a gentleman and all that, but right now all I can think about is, well…” He sat up, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you like it was nothing, until you were sitting properly on his lap, straddling his hips. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to your throat, putting the smallest amount of pressure on the sides of your neck with his calloused fingertips.

The moan that tore from your throat was low and quiet, but he heard it, muttering a curse under his breath as you became nearly boneless in his lap. “Eijriou.” You managed, licking your lips and gazing at him through half-closed eyes, your blood pounding in your ears.

It was ridiculous how turned on you were in that moment, and he’d barely done a thing. You felt his cock twitch beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down on him, the small amount of friction making you shiver.

Suddenly he was guiding you towards him, your noses bumping and breath mingling as he held you in place, his lips just out of your reach. “You don’t know how much I’ve always wanted you, Y/N.” 

Letting your eyes slide closed, you ran your hands up his muscled arms and rested them on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You were tired of waiting, of keeping yourself from what you wanted. “Show me.”

If you were to die right here on this couch it would have all been worth it. The feeling of his lips on yours, the way he ran his thumb lightly over your throat as he kissed you, had your eyes rolling back in their sockets. You couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, of the feeling of his hard body beneath your fingertips. He was careful with his sharp teeth, tugging at your bottom lip lightly, your tongues sliding together as he rolled his hips against yours.

You pulled back for air finally, taking in his kiss bruised lips and dilated pupils. Reaching down, you tore your shirt over your head, tossing it across the room, never breaking eye contact. You watched his gaze fall to your heaving chest as he worried at his bottom lip for a moment, obviously lost in thought. 

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he’d shifted again so that his feet were on the floor. Kirishima lifted you off his lap and put you on your feet in front of him, hands moving to your waist, fingers slipping into the elastic of the leggings you were wearing. He pressed his face to your bare stomach, kissing your skin as he worked your pants down your thighs, slipping them past your knees. You played with his hair, moaning softly as he kissed along your hip.

When he sat back you stepped out of your leggings, feeling exposed. You forgot how to be awkward when he was looking at you like that, hungry and wanting. Stepping forward, you pouted. “Why am I the only one half-naked?”

Chuckling, he pulled his shirt off, and you sucked in a breath, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this man, with a chiseled and perfect body like a Greek god, wanted you.

You didn’t even have time to admire him, because he was moving again, pulling you closer by your thighs, sharp teeth hooking into the front of your panties and dragging them down. Tugging the tie out of his hair, you slid it on your wrist, letting your fingers card through his red locks. He let his hands do the rest of the work until the offending garment was tangled around your ankles. 

Pushing him away gently, you watched him settle back on the couch, red eyes gazing at you as you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor, finally fully exposed to him. Kirishima sucked in a breath, blinking a few times in disbelief. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You kicked your panties to the side, moving to kneel in front of him, reaching up to grasp the top of his grey sweats, mouth-watering when you started to tug them down. Kirishima was huge everywhere else, so the size of his cock was of no surprise to you. He was massive, long, and girthy, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

Rubbing your thighs together for some relief, you left his sweats around his ankles, leaning forward and grasping his cock in your hand. It was almost comical how small your hands looked compared to it. Your eyes locked with his as you licked a long stripe up the shaft, tracing along the prominent vein on the underside, and lapping at the precum dripping from the head. 

Kirishima’s head fell back to rest on the cushion behind him, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him into your mouth. Your jaw ached almost immediately as you did your best to swallow all of him down, willing your throat to relax. You’d spent so long thinking about how he would taste and sound as you sucked his soul out through his dick, you were going to make the most out of this moment. 

His breathy pants filled the room, along with the obscene slurping sounds of your mouth around his cock. Gripping your hair and tugging lightly, you could tell he was holding back, his thighs shaking with the effort to keep from fucking up into your face. You pulled off, opening your mouth to let him know he could wreck you however he wanted, but he had other plans.

“Come up here, baby.”

The pet name sent shivers through you as you stood up, straddling his lap, his cock pressed up against his stomach. His thumb brushed over your lips, wiping away the spit and pre that spilled down your chin. Cradling your face in his large palm, he pulled you forward and kissed you deeply, his free hand sliding between your bodies. Thick fingers parted your folds, and you lifted up on your knees to give him better access. You moaned into his mouth as he brushed over your clit, gathering the dripping wetness of your cunt along his digits and sliding one finger inside your hole.

You clenched around him, breaking the kiss and keening loudly, your hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. His finger pumped in and out, curling slightly and pressing against your inner walls, stretching you. Gripping your hip with his other hand, he kissed his way down your jaw to your neck and chest, tongue flicking out over your nipple, hot breath ghosting over your skin with a chuckle when you grabbed his head and pulled him towards you.  

One finger turned to two and then three as you rocked and mewled in pleasure, his thumb finding your clit again and pressing against the bundle of nerves, whispered praises reaching your ears as he sucked and bit at your breasts. You were on the edge, wanting to fall over and drown in him, needing to cum all over his fingers and then again on his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel this way forever. 

“Ei I’m gonna…” You panted, unable to form the words.

Grunting, he moved his fingers faster, pressing his thumb in a little harder, his words of praise streaming steadily, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked. Eyes rolling back, your body tensed, a moan in the sound of his name leaving your lips as you shook, cumming harder than you ever had in your life. 

You were still clenching when he pulled his fingers out of you, his hand slick with release as he tugged on his cock and lined it up with your entrance, your body mourning the loss for mere seconds before he was filling you again. The slick glide of your arousal had you taking nearly all of him, the two of you groaning in tandem at the feeling. Gripping his shoulders, you lifted slightly, slamming your hips back down and taking him to the hilt. The stretch was just on the edge of painful, but his thick digits had stretched you just enough that the pleasure superseded any discomfort.

Still trying to gather yourself after your orgasm, you took a moment to breathe, studying his face, your gaze tracing over the scar on his eyelid, and his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. An hour ago you never could have imagined you’d be here, panting shakily, drenched in sweat and skin to skin with your best friend and roommate. 

Clenching around him, you held his shoulders, rocking forward and lifting yourself slightly. Kirishima gripped your hips, fucking up into you in a steady rhythm, his lips finding yours once again to swallow the panting moans leaving you. You bounced on his cock, relishing the feeling as he kissed down your neck, his fingertips digging into your flesh, sure to leave bruises for you to admire the next day.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it didn’t even matter. Just being this close to him, feeling him filling you so completely after wanting him for so long, it could have been minutes and you’d be happy. Knowing he felt for you as strongly as you felt for him was enough. 

His fingers trailed along your front and dipped in between your bodies to rub your clit again, and you felt the pleasure race down your spine, coil tightening again and ready to break. “Oh fuck, Eijirou!”

Growling, he grunted your name as his hips snapped up to meet yours, chasing his release. “I love you, Y/N.”

His words tipped you over again, your breath catching as you came, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into you increasing as you gushed around him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, completely spent. You held onto him as he slammed into you a few more times, rhythm faltering and hips stuttering until he was filling you up with a loud groan.

Collapsing back onto the couch, he held you to his chest, the two of you gasping for air. It was quiet for a few minutes as he rubbed his palm along your back comfortingly. You felt relaxed and sated, a pleased smile making its way to your face when you thought about what he’d said.

“Hey, Ei?” You pulled back slightly to look at him, giggling when he peeked one eye open to gaze at you.

“You okay?”

“Mm. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, too.”

He looked sheepish, opening both eyes and biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I wanted it to be romantic.”

“That was plenty romantic, Eijirou.” Rolling your eyes fondly, you shifted in his lap. “I’m just happy to hear you say it.”

“Man, we did this all wrong. I should have at least taken you to dinner first. This is so unmanly of me, I just couldn’t help it.” He frowned. “I’m sorry-”

“You’re too good sometimes, Ei. I’m not complaining, am I?” You raised an eyebrow. “We should go get cleaned up before Bakugou comes home and finds out we fucked on the couch.”

“Please don’t talk about Bakugou while you’re sitting on my dick.” He made a face that caused you to bust into gasping laughter. 

“Oh my god, I can’t.” You wheezed. “You’re ridiculous.” You moved to get up and he stopped you.

With a serious look on his face, he pushed your hair away from your face, his hand lingering near your ear. “I do love you though, Y/N. And I’m glad we finally got here. I didn’t think we ever would.”

Expression softening, you leaned into his palm, smiling at him. “Me too.”

Maybe if you had just told him how you felt all those years ago, you would have been able to have this sooner. But you promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell on the past, deciding to focus on the future, because you knew it would be filled with more moments with him just like this.

[greaterawarness]

Arc Training Program Ch. 4 "Getting To Know The Cadets (Part Two)"

(Sorry for the long wait! Here is part two! Hope you enjoy it!)

The next stop on hunting down his cadets is the library. He scans the room seeing some odd number of clones and Kaminoans scattered about but none were one of his. He starts walking slowly around the room until he finds someone curled on the floor with stacks of books surrounding him. His face is hidden by a large book that he is completely entranced by. He reads the cover The Species of Gree. Alpha clears his throat, but the boy doesn’t hear him. Alpha walks forward and pulls the book down so CC-1004’s eye would finally register Alpha. The boy jumps surprised and scrambles to his feet.

“Sir! Sorry sir! I didn’t see you!” He says much to loudly for a library. He hears a few shh hissed at him and winces. “Sorry… sir.”

“What are you doing?” Alpha asks realizing all the books scattered around the boy are books on different types of species. The boy’s face turns a deep shade of red.

“Uh…” Is all he manages to get out. Alpha kneels down to look at the book he was reading.

“The species of Gree?” He says before giving a deep hm while flipping through the pages.

“The Gree species is one of the oldest civilizations in the galaxy. They even predate the Republic.” 1004 explains. Alpha gives another small hm. 1004 looks down while squeezing and unqueening has hands in and out of fists nervously. “I know this probably isn’t the best use of my time but… I think studying different species and their civilizations could benefit the Republic.”

Alpha stares at the boy. He looks like he’s about to be scolded but shows no regret.

“Just don’t let your other training fall through the cracks.” Alpha hands the book back to 1004. He takes the book with wide eyes.

“I wont sir!” He says with a big, excited smile on his face. Reading has never been a big priority when training the clones. Most bounty hunters wont even take their cadets into the library. Alpha might have been the first to not scold the boy for wanting to pursue reading for leisure. Unfortunately, he had nothing to offer like he did for 2224 and 7567. Alpha never felt he had the time or patience for reading unless it was a report.

“Seen any of the others around?” Alpha asks before the kid can get to lost in his books again.

“3636 was in here not too long ago… I think… I kind of lost track of time when I picked up this book.” 1004 admits.

“Understood.” Alpha starts to turn away before looking back at 1004. “Don’t slouch when you read. You’ll mess up your back.”

After walking around the entire library and seeing no sign of 3636, he leaves. He walks with his hands behind his back and head held high. Other’s salute or acknowledge him politely as they pass through the corridors. When he makes a turn towards the mess hall, he spots Shaak Ti. She speaks with two bounty hunters. When she notices him staring, she smiles softly with a slight nod of her head down a different corridor. Alpha nods his thanks and heads in that direction.

He finds himself walking above different training rooms where other batches perform practice battles. He spots 3636 staring down at one of the ongoing battles. Alpha quietly walks to his side to watch the batch below. The batch is slightly younger then his cadets and have sloppy movements. Alpha can predict the ending but looks to 3636 who barely flinched when he approached. 3636 lets out a tsk before pushing away from the railing. Alpha raises a brow at him as the batch below fails.

“Something wrong?” Alpha asks calmly. 3636 half turns with his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes stare at the floor in tense frustration.

“Why is it so easy from here?” He asks finally. Alpha tilts his head slightly so he continues. “From here I can see their moves before they make them. But when I’m down there it’s like I have tunnel vision. And when I slow down to see the big picture its usually to late to do anything before I realize what’s happening.”

He shakes his head and turns away. Alpha feels the corner of his mouth turn into a grin.

“What did you do before?” Alpha crosses his arms before brining one hand up to his chin pondering with great curiosity.

“Before, my batch would move ahead and I could see it all. Not at first but with trail and error I eventually learned the different battle sequences my trainer had us practice. But the ones you have us run through seem to be random. Or its like the droids have a mind of their own. I can’t predict their moves and what the others will do.”

Alpha stiffens.

“CC-3636, there are thousands of battle scenarios. Are you saying you memorized all of them?”

“Yes?” He says it as if it were obvious. “There are 1,325 to be exact. Well, 1,326 but I think one was a glitch that combined 453 and 34.”

He’s living breathing protocol droid.

Alpha stares at the boy not sure if he should be amazed or terrified. Instead, he motions for him to follow. He takes 3636 to the part of Tipoca City that only the ARC Troopers were allowed. They passed many familiar faces who acknowledged Alpha in a head nod, smile, or even gesture. When they spot 3636 following behind him, they turn cold and watch suspiciously. He eventually turns into a break room currently occupied by two ARC Troopers, Hull and Raff.

“Leave us.” Alpha’s words were cold and blunt. They pause and exchange glances pondering if they should protest or not. They make the right choice and vacate the room. 3636 doesn’t look troubled or even scared to be surrounded by true ARC Troopers. The only thing Alpha can find in the cadet’s cold analyzing eyes is curiosity. Alpha sits on one side of the holochess board and gestures for 3636 to sit on the other side. He hesitates for the first time but eventually lowers himself down studying the board intently. When Alpha turns it on, he frowns.

“What is this?”

“Dejarik. You have to use wit to win.” Alpha smiles with the holographic creatures buzzing in front of him. 3636 says nothing so Alpha does a quick run through of the rules. When he’s done, he begins. The first round Alpha goes easy on the kid letting him get a feel for the game and truly understand how it works. He still manages to win but the kid doesn’t look fazed. He merely leans back slightly with eyes narrowed on the board in deep thought. When they play their second playthrough Alpha thinks he might lose but comes through in the end. Still, 3636 doesn’t look deterred. On the third playthrough Alpha can tell there is a clear difference. The kid leans forward with eyes glued to the bored. Other ARC Troopers have begun to fill into the room to watch. Alpha has to choose each move carefully. Halfway through Alpha rubs the back of his neck wondering how he will pull the win when he lifts his eyes. He freezes when his eyes meet CC-3636’s. They stared at him like a wolf that just locked onto its prey. Alpha looks back down. He makes his move and leans back. The rest of the men in the room watch the kid, murmuring amongst themselves. Alpha wonders how many have placed bets. 3636 smiles while making his final move.

“Holy shit.” Alpha chuckles to himself. The room is in an uproar. Fordo leans against the doorway full body laughing. 3636 sits pleased with his victory. Alpha holds a handout, and they shake hands. He gets to his feet to lead the kid out of the rowdy room of ARC Troopers. No need to subject him to that horror. Fordo pats his shoulder as they pass. When they’re finally in the quiet corridor 3636 looks up at him.

“So, what was the point of that game?”

“There are very few troopers who have the strategy capabilities that you have CC-3636. Tell me, while playing the game did you win the first try? Or even the second?” Alpha places his hands behind his back and glances at the cadet as they walk.

“No.”

“Exactly. But on the third try you got the hang of it. Just like with all things it takes practice to be able to strategizes in the heat of combat. We’ll work on that. Soon you’ll be dominating on the battlefield as much as you do in holochess.” Alpha smiles at him. 3636 stares forward intrigued. He might have even smiled if Alpha wasn’t looking.

Alpha leaves 3636 to continue studying other batches so he can continue his hunt for his other cadets. He doesn’t have to go far it seems when he spots CC-1010 leaning against the windows overlooking the mess hall. Alpha frowns when he approaches. 1010 stands up straight when he notices Alpha.

“Sir.” He says plainly. Alpha gives a displeasing hm.

“What are you doing? I told you to be doing something productive not lean against a window and people watching.” Alpha crosses his arms. 1010 raises his eyebrows as if shocked but his eyes remain plain.

“Sir I assure you I am using my time wisely.” 1010 places a hand on his chest offering a small grin. Alpha frowns. “You see I am not people watching but studying. You would be surprised of what secrets you can learn from simply observing others.”

“Explain.”

Alpha decides to bite. Perhaps he’ll catch him in his own lie. 1010 gestures down to the people eating below. It’s mostly other clones but some Kaminoans and bounty hunters are mixed in.

“You see that bounty hunter there? She’s been fucking one of the Kaminoan scientists.”

Alpha frowns at 1010. “This is gossip cadet.”

“Patience, Sir, patience. I’m getting to the good part.” He assures him. Alpha settles again and looks to the female bounty hunter. “Now she is also fucking the bounty hunter over the Bravo Squad. Well, that or she wants to fuck him and is just working with him. I know this by watching their mannerisms. She acts the same around the city unless she is with the Kaminoan scientist or with the bounty hunter over Bravo Squad but there is a clear difference between the two. With the Kaminoan it’s very forced and overly flirty. Very out of her character. Almost like she’s trying to fool the Kaminoan. Then I compared that to when she is with the other bounty hunter. It’s more natural but much more secretive. Little whispers and glances here and there. A small hand gesture no one would notice you weren’t looking for it.”

“I’m failing to see the point of all this.” Alpha sighs starting to lose patience.

“I’m almost to the good part,” He assures him. “All of this intrigued me, so I followed her one day. It intrigued me because why force a romance she clearly didn’t want and hide one she clearly did. Didn’t seem right. After following her I found out that the Kaminoan scientist she’s interested in works in the genetics lab and she often convinces him to have meetings in the lab. Then after having a meeting, she would have an interaction with the other bounty hunter. One no one would notice if they weren’t looking for it.”

“Besides a serious health violation what are you getting at?” Alpha crosses his arms intrigued. He leans against the window with a smug grin.

“I believe our female bounty hunter is stealing from the genetics’ lab with the bounty hunter of Bravo Squad.”

“That’s a serious allegation. What proof do you have?” Alpha drops his arms. 1010 frowns while looking down at the mess hall at the female bounty hunter.

“Nothing but what I’ve seen.”

“Why haven’t you come forward yet?” Alpha shakes his head at the boy. CC-1010 turns to meet his eyes.

“I’m a cadet. Who’s going to believe me?”

They stare at each other for a moment as Alpha calms down. 1010 looks back out the window.

“I believe you.” Alpha says finally. 1010 stands up straight meeting his eyes again, confused.

“You do?”

“Yes,” Alpha nods confusing the boy more. “I’ll have others look into this matter.”

He looks down shocked for a moment.

“Thank you.” He says showing a genuine smile for the first time. Alpha leans against the window again prompting 1010 to mimic his stance.

“So, what made you start watching her?” Alpha asks now analyzing all bounty hunters in his site. When 1010 doesn’t answer immediately he glances over at him. He wears a grimace.

“Words often spoken are lies.” He says finally. Alpha waits for him to go on. “The bounty hunter over my batch was a master at manipulation. I learned very quickly I couldn’t take her words at face value. Instead, I learned to read her body. From there I was able to find the truth. Body language gives most liars away. When I started getting good with her, I started looking at others for practice. Our lunch lined up with the female bounty hunter’s and that’s when I noticed what was happening.”

Alpha nods while turning so his back was against the glass. He glances up at the ceiling remembering his time under Jango’s instruction.

“Jango would play mind tricks on us at times. He did it to try and push us mentally. Made most of us stronger. I know of bounty hunters like the one that taught you. They don’t use those tactics to help you but more to control you. But as long as you pass the simulations then the Jedi and Kaminoans are happy to let you graduate.”

1010 looks up at him.

“You don’t think those cadets should graduate?”

“I think those cadets will deal with more obstacles later down the road then most others.” Alpha says meeting his eyes again. The cadet nods but Alpha wonders if he really understood what he meant. Alpha clears his throat deciding to turn the conversation to a brighter note. “Do you watch everyone’s mannerisms then?”

“Yes, it’s become second nature now.” 1010 crosses his arms with his back to the glass now mirroring Alpha.

“So, what are mine?” Alpha arches a brow at him. CC-1010 pauses with eyes staring forward. At that moment Shaak Ti approaches making 1010 stand up straight.

“Sir, I see you and the General have business to discuss and I should really get back to blaster training.” He says before walking quickly down the corridor.

“Hey wa—never mind.” Alpha shakes his head with a chuckle. Shaak Ti gives him a look, but he just shakes his head.

“Something wrong?” She asks.

“No… well? Possibly. I have good reason to believe that two of the bounty hunters here are selling Kaminoan genetic secrets.” Alpha says pointing out the female bounty hunter below.

“That is quite a claim. And what reason do you have to support this?” she asks.

“I have on good authority that it is so. If it’s not, then I will personally apologize for any damage done.” Alpha insists. This surprises Shaak Ti.

“Alpha, you have never apologized for anything.” She says eyeing him slightly. He gives a nonchalant shrug.

“Times are changing.”

“It appears so.” She chuckles softly. Alpha notices a datapad in her hand.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

“Yes, I’m afraid there has been an incident with two of your cadets in hanger bay three.” She hands him the datapad. He reads the CC numbers and groans. He immediately takes off for the hanger bay.

When he arrives to the bay he finds CC-8826 and CC-1138 sitting handcuffed on the floor surrounded by a group of troopers.

“These are my cadets. What’s going on?” Alpha has to hold back his anger. 8826 and 1138 look nothing but bored while sitting at the feet of the troopers.

“Sir, we caught these two trying to steal a ship.” The trooper shoots a look at 1138 when he yawns. Alpha felt his anger boil in his chest.

“Sorry for any damages or inconveniences. I’ll take it from here.” Alpha squeezes his hands into tight fists already running through every exercise and drill he was about to make them run through and then he contemplated if he should just fail them and put them on sanitation duty. The cadets are uncuffed and follow behind Alpha.

“We weren’t trying to steal a ship.” 8826 says breaking the tension between them. Alpha whips around to face them. They still look unfazed by Alpha’s furious face.

“Then what pray tell were you doing?” Alpha shouts. His voice echoes through the corridor. He hears someone scurry out of the hall.

“I just…” 8826 starts but stops. Alpha shakes his head.

“No, go on. Explain yourself!”

“I just wanted to know how it works.” He says at last. Alpha shifts his weight taking in his words. He must not answer in time because 8826 goes on. “The ship. I’ve studied the design like everyone else but when it’s put together it looks nothing like the holograms. I wasn’t trying to steal the ship I just wanted to see what the inside looked like and how it all connected.”

Alpha felt his anger begin to simmer. He looks to 1138.

“He couldn’t lift one of the panels.” He shrugs. Alpha feels himself chuckle a laugh. He rubs above his eyebrows.

“You really weren’t trying to steal the ship?” Alpha feels like he just experienced a crash landing.

“No.” they both say. Alpha studies their faces. They didn’t appear to be lying but both boys have always been hard to read in the past. Of course, neither boys would be his first to suspect of desertion. Alpha lets out one final sigh releasing the anger he had only moments before.

“Very well.” He says turning away. He leads them away from the hanger by to one of the distant larger storage rooms near their barracks. He has to find 99 to open it for him. inside they cough and cover their noses from the dust collecting on all the items inside. Most were outdated gear and weapons with some obsolete spare parts here and there. 8826 and 1138 walk around taking in all the things while Alpha follows 99 to the back. He helps 99 pull a tarp off an old speeder bike. 8826 and 1138 stare at it intrigued.

“This is an old speeder bike left here by one of the Mandalorian bounty hunters. It’s rundown and needs a lot of work. You want to know how things work? Start by taking this apart and putting it back together.” Alpha places his hands on his hips watching 8826 squat in front of the bike inspecting it. He gets the same crazed look in his eye that he does when he’s in combat. Alpha leans against a crate glancing over at 1138.

“You interested in building the bike too?” He asks. 1138 has always been silent and calm. He only ever showed real anger when he lost and continued to fail at something. Every other time it’s the same blank expression. 1138 crosses his arms and nods. Alpha leaves it at that not forcing a conversation. 99 helps them clear a path to push the bike back to their barracks. Alpha didn’t want the kids let loose in this room to often. When they reach the barracks they walk in at the same time CC-4477 does. Alpha pauses. He had almost forgotten about the cadet.

“CC-4477,” he calls over while 99 leads 8826 and 1138 to the back wall with the bike. 4477 walks up to him. “Where have you been all day?”

“Sir? What do you mean? We passed each other in the corridor several times today.” He says plainly. Alpha frowns trying to think back. Did he really walk right past one of his cadets and never notice? He almost wants to ask more questions when the doors open and CC-1010 walks in with CC-1004. CC-4477 walks over to greet his brothers leaving Alpha feeling odd. He would have to keep a closer eye on 4477.

When the rest of the cadets return, the quiet barracks become loud with chatting cadets that prepare for the night. Alpha stays in the room helping 1138 and 8826 dismantle the bike and providing what wisdom he could all the while keeping an eye on the others. 1010 and 4477 sit on their extended racks chatting about their day and what they noticed while 7567 and 2224 sort through their gear. 99 shuffles around cleaning up here and there before getting pulled into a conversation with 3636 and 1004. Alpha feels a sense of peace wash over him. A feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. If ever.

When the night drags on he leaves the cadets to bathe and get to bed. He walks back to his room to find Shaak Ti watching one of the cadets practice battles. He walks over to join her at his table. She smiles at him while sliding a data pad his way.

“What’s this?” He asks while examining it.

“It seems you were correct about that bounty hunter. She and her accomplice have been detained. It seems the Kaminoan she manipulated had no idea. Still, he will face his own punishment from the Kaminoans.” She leans back in her chair.

“That fox.” Alpha says softly to himself. He puts the datapad down wearing a proud smile.

“It seems taking an off day was good for you.” She smiles warmly at him. He rubs the back of his neck.

“What can I say? You were right. Each boy is very different and has their own set of skills.”

“Now you must find a way to utilize those skills to get them to work together.” She rests her arms on the table leaning forward slightly. Alpha nods before reaching over to turn the holovid off. The sit in silence enjoying the peace.

“Thank you.” He says suddenly. She tilts her head. “For helping me.” “Your success is all of our success.” She says making him roll his eyes slightly. After a pause she adds. “You have changed Alpha.”

“I believe you’re right.” He nods with eyes falling on the table where his hand rests. He looks up to meet her eyes. “You have changed as well. From the first time we met.”

“That is the nature of time. It changes us. For better or for worse.”

His eyes drop to the table again this time staring at her hand resting on the table.

“Do you think it’s for the better?” he asks staring at her hand resting loosely on the white table. She takes this time to stand, pulling his eyes towards her face again. Before she walks out of his room she pauses and says.

“I hope, Alpha. I hope.”

Read full story HERE on AO3

[ace-oreos]

Alpha-17 back on Kamino, taking Anakins suggestion and helping the clones come up with names and describing what working with jedi will be like. Also i like the idea of the clones asking why he SO scarred and hes like now thats a good story and watch out for general kenobi he gets into stuff and only after they meet him and anakin are they like "Oh now i get it."

Anon! I got SO. EXCITED. when I got this! Alpha is such a great character and I really enjoy working with him. Thanks for the prompt! I hope it hits everything you asked for. :) 

Kamino is… even worse than he remembers, quite honestly. If not for the verd’ike, Alpha would be more than tempted to burn the place to the ground and be done with it. 

(It’s not the first time the thought has ever crossed his mind, and it’s certainly not the last.)

But at least he doesn’t have to deal with Kenobi or Skywalker anymore. 

Which is a plus, all things considered. Rattatak had been rough, to put it lightly - much more so than he’d let on, partly to ward off potential concern from Kenobi and partly because he refuses to admit it to himself.  

Of course, he’s traded the Jedi for a batch of cadets who are entirely too boisterous for their own good. Kenobi is still stuck with Skywalker as far as he knows, and sometimes he can’t help wondering who got the better deal.

(Then again, knowing Kenobi, he’d be all too happy to spread some osik about serenity and inner balance or something equally revolting.)

Alpha suspects it’s a product of Jango’s teaching that he’d initially headed into this assignment with high expectations for the command batch. In retrospect, he can’t for the life of him fathom where he’d acquired that notion - every single cadet under his command is the embodiment of chaos with a healthy disrespect for authority. 

He’s not one to talk, but as an officer - and a recently promoted officer at that - he feels that it’s his duty to try to uphold the command structure of the GAR. 

Still, he can’t help feeling a sense of grim satisfaction whenever one of the di’kute fires back a retort at the Kaminiise or one of the nat-born instructors. Normally any deviant behavior would be smothered for fear of reconditioning, but the Kaminiise know better than to cross him. He’s one of Jango’s, after all. 

Fett may have been a rotten father, but Alpha has a grudging respect for the man’s ability to keep them all in line for twelve years. Wrangling these cadets is exhausting; he can only be grateful that they’ll be rotated out in a few months. 

(Truthfully, he hasn’t been able to shake a sense of bone-deep fatigue since Rattatak, but that’s no one’s business but his own.) 

No one could ever accuse him of going easy on his cadets, but even he knows that every soldier needs a break sometimes. Taking a second to breathe does wonders for morale. 

Unfortunately, it also invites the possibility of conversation with the verd’ike. He’s never been as inclined to idle conversation like many of his brothers, but he’s pleasantly surprised when the rambunctious boys he’s slowly becoming accustomed to prove to be much more insightful than he’d previously imagined.

He indulges their curiosity some days. More often than not their interest lies with the Jedi they’ll be serving with soon enough, so he does his best to share an adequate depiction. They’re not omnipotent tactical masterminds like the clones had been raised to believe, Alpha warns, but they’re decent officers for the most part. 

“You served with General Kenobi, didn’t you, sir?” one of the cadets asks. 

Alpha barely suppresses the first sarcastic remark that comes to mind and instead settles for a nod and a noncommittal shrug. 

“And?” one of the other boys pipes up. 

“And what?” 

“What did you think of him?”

Well, for one thing, he’s a kriffing Jedi playing at being a politician while having at least one affair that’s strictly forbidden by his creed… 

“He’s a good officer,” Alpha says at last. “Gets a bit high-minded, and we rarely ever saw eye to eye, but he listens to his men.”

He’s been sure to drill that into them over and over, because if there’s one thing he wants them to retain it’s that soldiers will follow a commander into hell if he makes an effort to connect with them. 

“What really happened on Rattatak?” 

The question catches him off guard. For a second he has half a mind to deflect it - it’s a long story, for one thing, and an unpleasant one at that - but these cadets will be shipping out soon. He’ll have little say in things once they deploy, but he can certainly do his best to prepare them now. 

Besides, Alpha can’t fault them for wanting to explore the galaxy beyond Kamino through any outlet available. Being slated for a command slot can be isolating, and they’ve heard enough about the galaxy from older troopers to be ravingly curious about what awaits them once they step foot outside Tipoca. 

“It’s really not that interesting,” he sighs in a last-ditch effort to deter them. 

Sadly, they seem content to wait him out. 

Shabla cadets and their shabla games. 

Grumbling - they look far too smug for having secured such a minor victory - Alpha opts to give them a vague overview rather than a meticulous account of everything that had taken place after Ventress had seen fit to interfere on Jabiim. 

“The campaign on Jabiim was tipping in Separatist favor…” 

_____________________

Skywalker may be a pain in the shebs, but Alpha is coming to realize that the kid had a point about naming the cadets. It hadn’t been much of a priority among the Alpha batch, but it seems to be something extraordinary for the later generations. 

Most times, the kids don’t tell Alpha directly that they’ve chosen a name for themselves; rather, he learns to listen to the quiet discussions between squad mates, and makes a point of using those names rather than the designations they’d been assigned at birth.

Sometimes a cadet’s delight gets the better of him and he blurts it out during an exercise. Alpha rarely reacts in the moment, but he makes sure to give an acknowledgement when they’re off-duty. 

After a while, their names spring to mind before their numbers. Cody, Bacara, Gree… he still can’t determine what exactly the change signals, but he can see it in their eyes. It’s a source of pride, and who is he to deny them? 

Besides, he thinks wryly, it’s better than an unruly Padawan deciding to bestow a nickname upon them in the middle of a war zone.

______________________

The cadets seem to be under the impression that stories from the battlefield will become a regular fixture in their routine. Alpha doesn’t let that notion stand very long, but he occasionally allows their questions after a successful exercise or a particularly impressive sparring match. 

They’ve gotten even bolder since he first took command; apparently, no question is off limits. 

“You’ve got an awful lot of scars, sir,” one of the boys observes. From the tone, Alpha guesses it’s Bly. 

“Very astute, cadet,” Alpha huffs. “I’m glad my training isn’t wasted on you.” 

“Are they all from Rattatak?” 

“For one thing, I honestly don’t remember how I got every single scar, and for another, I’m not here to tell you stories,” Alpha says firmly like he hasn’t spent the past twenty minutes addressing their various questions about his experience with Jedi command. 

“It’s General Kenobi, isn’t it,” Cody pipes up sagely, and in that moment Alpha realizes he’s taught them a little too well. 

“He had something to do with most of them, yes,” Alpha admits. 

“Some officer,” Neyo mutters with his usual cynicism. 

Alpha cuffs him. “Put a lid on it, cadet. I didn’t say they were his fault - it’s just that he was usually involved in one way or another. Kenobi likes to poke his nose in where it isn’t necessarily wanted.”

Most of them look disbelieving. Alpha just shrugs. They’ll figure it out one way or another.

_____________________

Alpha jerks awake sometime around 0300 to the incessant beeping of his comlink. Grumbling to himself, he activates it and rumbles a greeting.

“Hope I didn’t wake you up, sir.” 

“You’re lucky I’m not in theater, or I would smoke your shebs for this one, Cody,” Alpha growls, because even though it’s been a while since the first batch rotated out he vividly remembers every cadet’s distinct inflection and tone. 

“We’ve heard that one before,” Cody says teasingly.

Alpha ignores the jibe. “Spit it out, di’kut.”

Cody hesitates, then bursts out, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” Alpha asks, awake enough to be puzzled.

“Deal with Kenobi,” Cody whispers. Alpha can’t help being amused by the desperation in his voice. “He’s a disaster on legs, sir.”

“That’s nothing I didn’t know already, al’verde,” Alpha informs him.

“But sir…” 

“You’re the commander. He’s your problem now,” Alpha adds, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Alpha…”

“Give the general my regards, Commander.” 

“Wait - ”

 “Sorry, al’verde. Duty calls.”

If Alpha is smirking when he sets aside his comlink and shuts his eyes in the hopes of getting a few more hours of sleep, no one is the wiser.

[mneiai]

Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Soulmate AU Snippet

Idk if I’ll ever actually do more with this one, but I thought I’d share.

(cw references of torture and the general dehumanization of clones)

They said nothing forged a soulbond like a shared experience. Oh, two souls had to be compatible, but there were dozens, maybe hundreds, of compatible souls for each person out there. Most never got the chance to bond together. Obi-Wan couldn't help but find it typical that the "shared experience" he'd had was torture. He hadn't even realized it until they'd gotten out of there, until he'd been nearly healed and the presence of Alpha-17 that he'd clung to before was still there. When Alpha-17 showed up outside his door after he'd been discharged, he knew the other had felt it, had realized what it was, too. "I suppose I should congratulate you on your promotion," he teased, ushering the other inside. Alpha-17 scoffed, but despite his gruff exterior and practiced expression, Obi-Wan knew he was nervous. Clones weren't legally considered people, so what did it mean that they'd bonded? Normally a bond meant that the lower ranking bondmate--be it in the military, the Order, or even among most of the nobility of the galaxy--would be raised to the rank of the higher one. And it was impossible to know how the Senate, how the citizens, would react to a clone general. "I apologize for this, sir, it must be as inconvenience." Obi-Wan knew Alpha-17 couldn't actually feel it was, he'd been trained by Jango Fett and dozens of other Mandalorians. He knew culture was a part of that and soulbonds forged through any sort of major adversity were considered near-sacred. If he'd been just a normal Mandalorian, they'd be throwing a feast and bragging about it. "It's no inconvenience. It's...possibly why I'm still sane." He felt more than saw Alpha-17's rage and fear at the idea, as he had before he realized. Even without the Force, the bond had formed, and had been nurtured by their desperate need for the other to survive. Telegraphing his movement, Obi-Wan reached out, carefully entwining his fingers with Alpha-17s, shivering at the way the bond flared from bare skin touching. "If nothing else, think of how many more cadets you'll be able to terrorize, now." His smile wasn't half as teasing as he wanted it to be, but lightening this mood was a daunting task. "And...I'd really like to not be alone right now."

[starwarsfic]

I.20

Originally posted August 6, 2020

Summary: They said nothing forged a soulbond like a shared experience.

Details: Alpha-17/Obi-Wan soulmate AU.

xxxxxx

They said nothing forged a soulbond like a shared experience. Oh, two souls had to be compatible, but there were dozens, maybe hundreds, of compatible souls for each person out there. Most never got the chance to bond together.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but find it typical that the “shared experience” he’d had was torture. He hadn’t even realized it until they’d gotten out of there, until he’d been nearly healed and the presence of Alpha-17 that he’d clung to before was still there.

When Alpha-17 showed up outside his door after he’d been discharged, he knew the other had felt it, had realized what it was, too.

“I suppose I should congratulate you on your promotion,” he teased, ushering the other inside.

Alpha-17 scoffed, but despite his gruff exterior and practiced expression, Obi-Wan knew he was nervous. Clones weren’t legally considered people, so what did it mean that they’d bonded? Normally a bond meant that the lower ranking bondmate–be it in the military, the Order, or even among most of the nobility of the galaxy–would be raised to the rank of the higher one. And it was impossible to know how the Senate, how the citizens, would react to a clone general.

“I apologize for this, sir, it must be as inconvenience.”

Obi-Wan knew Alpha-17 couldn’t actually feel it was, he’d been trained by Jango Fett and dozens of other Mandalorians. He knew culture was a part of that and soulbonds forged through any sort of major adversity were considered near-sacred. If he’d been just a normal Mandalorian, they’d be throwing a feast and bragging about it.

“It’s no inconvenience. It’s…possibly why I’m still sane.”

He felt more than saw Alpha-17’s rage and fear at the idea, as he had before he realized. Even without the Force, the bond had formed, and had been nurtured by their desperate need for the other to survive. Telegraphing his movement, Obi-Wan reached out, carefully entwining his fingers with Alpha-17s, shivering at the way the bond flared from bare skin touching.

“If nothing else, think of how many more cadets you’ll be able to terrorize, now.” His smile wasn’t half as teasing as he wanted it to be, but lightening this mood was a daunting task. “And…I’d really like to not be alone right now.”

xxxxxx

A/N: This is even less finished than my stuff in here normally is, but the ship is so rare I felt bad not putting this on AO3 lol  Originally posted on my Tumblr.

This ends up as part of Permission to Return, my alphobi collection

[fandomseverywhereassemble]

He Stayed Quiet

Hey guys!!! So, recently, I listened to a beautiful song by @lovelylangst (seriously, it’s so beautiful I still get goosebumps listening to it, so hit them up if you want to listen to it.)  I wrote down the lyrics at the end, but the words themselves don’t do the song enough justice.

Anyway, I got some of the greatest inspiration to write a little something based off of that song.  And here it is!  I hope y’all enjoy.

(Trigger warning for abuse.)

Being quiet was harder than most people would think.  Especially for Lance, who was always so bubbly and happy and smiling.  If there was noise in the Castle, it was because he was making it.  He couldn’t sneak around the Garrison as Hunk or Pidge could.  He was always the one who bumped into a table, knocked something over, and alerted Iverson or whoever was on duty that there were cadets out after curfew.

He was the one who would get kicked out of the library because he was laughing too hard and too loud.  Yes, Lance, you really are being that loud. Pidge would roll their eyes and say.

He was the person who had no clue how much noise he was actually making.

He was the person who couldn’t quite grasp that whispering and talking were two different things until he was well into fourth grade.  Sometimes distinguishing between yelling and talking were difficult for him.

His entire life, people were always telling him to be quiet: his older siblings, his teachers, his friends, the librarian, his parents, the list goes on and on.  But now, no one was telling him to quiet himself.

Lance was doing it on his own.

Shiro was different.  Lance knew.  He had had his suspicions for a while, but now that Shiro was getting more violent, it was getting harder and harder to believe that he hadn’t been changed by his second stay with the Galra.  Maybe Keith had been Shiro’s impulse control, but the possibility of Keith being anyone’s impulse control was laughable.

It first happened when Lance had interrupted the black paladin in the middle of a strategy meeting.  There was a flaw in the plan that could have caused Pidge to become overrun if they weren’t paying attention at the exact right moment.  He didn’t even realize that Shiro had been talking until the damage was already done.

The Galran arm’s metal fingers were digging into the meat of Shiro’s bicep.  There was murder in the dark-grey eyes currently trying to bore a hole through the red paladin.  Lance had never before felt so small, so insignificant, and so inconsequential.

That mission had gone by without a hitch.  Pidge’s infiltration went effortlessly well, and they were able to avoid the guards that undoubtedly would have caught them otherwise.  Lance was feeling pretty good about himself.  He was laughing loudly with Hunk about some story that Coran was telling them.  Neither of them knew exactly what was being described, but the faces that the Altean was making and the sound effects he was somehow generating had them howling with laughter.

Pidge had come in somewhere in the middle of the story, and they had laid their head on Lance’s lap.  They silently thanked him with their eyes and didn’t protest when the red paladin ruffled their already ruffled hair playfully.

Allura entered not long after, and her eyes lit up when she heard Coran’s story.  She interjected her own points every few words.  Her eyes lit up in pure joy; not even Lance’s cheesy flirting could bring her down.

All good and happy things had to come to an end, however.  Lance excused himself to take care of business.  Pidge hissed when their head fell to the cushion, its pillow having left.  They glared good-naturedly at him as he rounded the corner, a smile still on his face when he ran into a wall of muscle.

Shiro stood in his way, his arms were crossed in front of his chest, with his prosthetic in front.  That was new.  Usually, his other arm hid the metal one from view as if he were ashamed of it.  His face was as hard as the metal posing as flesh.

The black paladin was taller than the others by a few inches at the most -excluding Pidge- but now, Lance felt like he needed to look two feet above himself just to look the team leader in the eyes.

“Lance!  You’re just the person I was looking for!”  His voice wasn’t normal.  It wasn’t robotic, but the enthusiasm seemed incredibly forced and insincere.  The casual ups and downs of his voice were the same, but they still weren’t right.

Lance kept the smile plastered to his face from his time with the other paladins.  “Yeah, I just need to run to the restroom really quick; I’ll be right back!”  He pushed past Shiro.  The hallways were tight enough as it was without a giant from one of Coran’s stories blocking his way.

The Galran shot out and grabbed Lance’s upper arm, squeezing tightly and pressing him up against the wall.

“Shiro?  Can this wait for like, two minutes?  I really gotta pee.”  Lance raised an eyebrow at the older man.

Fingers dug further into Lance’s arm, and the tips of his fingers started to tingle slightly.  “I just wanted to thank you.”  Shiro smiled, but the motion didn’t reach his eyes; it barely even reached his mouth.  “For graciously interrupting me during the meeting.  We never would have been able to spot such an obvious and vital problem if it weren’t for you.”

Lance’s dark blue eyes widened slightly.  “Oh, sorry about that.  I’ll be honest I wasn’t listening that closely because I saw-”

“Oh, my mistake,” Shiro said.  His voice was dripping with something that Lance couldn’t quite identify.  “If you weren’t paying attention, I guess all is forgiven.”  His grip hadn’t let up slightly since they started this conversation, and Lance’s hand was beginning to go numb at an alarming rate.

He smiled shyly back at the leader.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, and I really don’t mean to cut this conversation short, but unless you want me to go right here, and right now, I really need to use the restroom.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Shiro spat.  He curled the metal fingers deeper into Lance’s muscles before he released it.

Feeling came back to his arm as blood rushed to where it was supposed to be.  It felt like he had dipped his entire left arm in near-boiling water for a split second and pulled it out just as fast, burning hot then freezing cold.  He massaged the area that Shiro’s hand had dug into as he made his way to the communal toilets.

As soon as he was finished, he rolled his sleeve up to expose the flesh that was already starting to darken from a light brown to a dark black.  He hissed as he felt around the tender skin gently.

It was in the precise shape of a handprint.

The door swung open, and Hunk stuck his head into the room.  “Oh, there you are!”  He laughed.  “We were starting to wonder if you had gotten lost.”  He went to the sink right next to Lance’s to wash his hands.  “I tried to give Pidge a piggy-back ride because Allura and Coran didn’t know what one was, and the little goblin licked me!  Not even slightly.  There was so much tongue and saliva involved.  I am even more terrified of them than I was at the Garrison.”  He raised his eyes to look at Lance through the mirror.  “Woah, where did you get that?”  He gestured vaguely with his chin toward the fresh bruise.

Lance quickly rolled his sleeve down and wracked his brain for an explanation other than ‘Shiro went Alpha on me’ and settled on: “Oh, during the last mission I had a little run-in with a guard.  He caught me a little unaware.  That’s all.”  He threw one of his award-winning smiles in the mix as well.

Hunk pouted his lip out slightly and looked skeptically at his friend in the mirror.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  That looks pretty rough.”

“It’s nothing.  I’m sure I’ll be fine soon enough.”  He smiled and slapped Hunk’s shoulders.  “Now what do you say we show the Princess and Coran what a real piggyback ride looks like?”

Things weren’t fine soon enough.  During training sessions, Shiro would hit him a little too hard a little too often.  The handprint on his arm had taken two weeks to heal.  For those two weeks, he had trouble aiming his bayard, and it showed.  He almost hit Pidge rather than the console that he was supposed to be hitting.  He did hit Hunk instead of a training bot one day.

Shiro hit him harder, more often.

Once, when Lance found himself on the ground, he pushed himself up and felt something in his chest snap.  A broken rib, he was told.

He really should take it easy on those missions, and not get himself hurt.

It became rare to see Lance without any blemishes on his once pristine and perfect skin.  He never wore short-sleeved shirts anymore, not that he had in the first place, but he started making sure that that’s all his wardrobe consisted of anymore.  He asked Coran for concealer after he ‘ran into a doorframe’ and he was cursed with a black eye.

Pidge just rolled their eyes because ‘they knew he was clumsy, but this is a new level, Lance.’

One by one, they all slowly stopped noticing every new injury that Lance was sporting.

One by one, they stopped noticing how Lance would never speak at team meetings anymore.

One by one, they stopped caring.

And through it all, the hurts, the bruises, and the false smiles, Lance stayed quiet.

Thank you so much for reading this; I really hope you like it!

Here’s the song that this was based off of, but seriously, hit them up to listen to them singing it.  You won’t regret it.

I stayed quiet

I didn’t tell a single soul

I stayed quiet

And its the truth I hold

I let you bruise me

I let you break

And I stayed quiet

With the force it takes

I didn’t want to sully

Ruin your good name

So I stayed quiet, once again

Oh, I stayed quiet*

I made it my place*

I stayed quiet*

Even though it was fake*

I stayed quiet*

Ruin my name*

I stayed quiet*

From all the things I could say*

I stayed quiet*

Oh, I stayed quiet*

Yes, I stayed quiet*

Oh, I stayed quiet*

You ask me why* I stay quiet*

Is cuz I-I* had to deny* it

If I did it, I would end up

Like that girl, you left*

Buried in the dirt*

I stayed quiet*

Yes, I stayed quiet*

Oh, I stayed quiet*

Yes, I stayed quiet*

I stayed quiet

Didn’t ruin your name

Didn’t sully your fame

Didn’t take the blame

I stayed quiet

And in return

All I do is get hurt

[nervous-squid]

For the handbook that has everything

also posted on ao3

Five years later, Lance and Pidge are instructors at galaxy garrison, and they find that policy on flirting with your colleague is not included in the Instructor’s handbook.

“Good morning Cadets” Lance announced, eyes scanning the new cadets gathered around the simulator pod, “Congratulations on making it this far into the Astro-explorer programme”

 He received a jumbled murmur of ‘Good Morning, Commander’ and ‘thank you’ with a few gasps mixed in. He couldn’t help but smile proudly as he noticed the recognition flash across several faces. They had seven teams this year, pilots, engineers and communication officers, all chosen to train for future garrison missions. He recognized most of the cadets by name, his students coming from all around the universe, all of them fresh out of initial garrison training.

 “Alright Cadets” he said, his tone urging the students to straighten up, “Why are we here this morning?”

“To complete the simulator mission, sir” a cadet from Olkarion replied automatically.

 “Close, Cadet Kola” he said, “You’re here to complete the simulator mission as a team. You need to learn how to work with your teammates to complete your mission. So, before we begin, any questions?”

 It took a tick until a hand shot up from the crowd, Lance smiled, signaling the cadet to speak.

 “Sir,” the cadet began, “why was your armor blue if you piloted the red lion?”

 “I looked much better in blue, cadet, thank you for asking,” Lance said, smirking as the rest of his students chuckled, “Any questions actually related to the simulator training?”

 “Is it true that they used to called you the tailor?” a voice called out.

 He recognized the voice immediately, but it was the awe on his students’ faces that confirmed his guess.

 “That’s irrelevant to the simulator training, Commander Holt” he said, pointedly glaring at the familiar figure making her way towards them.

 “This is no time to be modest, Commander McClain” Pidge said, smirking at him, “I’m sure the students would love to hear-”

 “Alright,” Lance said quickly, snapping his class back to attention, “We’re burning daylight, alpha team you’re up first, beta team be on standby”

 The first team immediately settled into position while the rest of the cadets flocked around the screens to watch their progress. Lance waited for the familiar hum of the simulator to begin before turning to their visitor.

 “I thought we agreed never to speak about that incident,” Lance grumbled, glancing towards his students to make sure they couldn’t hear him.

 “It would be a great lesson for them” Pidge said, grinning at Lance’s discomfort, “It’s our job as instructors to prepare them for the difficulties of space-exploration”

 “Yes, I know” Lance said, disgruntled, “I read the handbook”

 “You’re doing a good job with them” she said honestly, smiling at him fondly.

 “Thank you” Lance said, warmth settling comfortably around his chest, “I’ve been going for the caring but still super-cool teacher approach, it seems to be working”

 “You make it so difficult to compliment you” Pidge said, her face impassive.

 “You know Pidge, I have to admit” Lance said, gazing off dreamily into the middle distance, “It’s not easy being both an iconic intergalactic hero and an awe-inspiring teacher- Ouch!”

 Pidge had landed a swift hit to the back of Lance’s head, smiling to herself while Lance muttered curses under his breath.

 “Why are you down here anyway?” Lance groaned, nursing his head.

 “I wanted to observe how the new simulator was running” Pidge said, watching the excited buzz of the students.

 “It’s running much better without the remains of Hunk’s vomit clogging up the gears” Lance said, a smile tugging at his lips at the old memory, “Although, I kind of miss the old one, we had a lot of fun in there”

 “You mean when the three of us were failing so badly that Iverson was threatening to kick us out of the Garrison altogether?” Pidge deadpanned, looking at Lance skeptically.

“Ok, so there was that little detail,” Lance admitted, rolling his eyes, “but other than that, it was great”

 Pidge could only scoff, turning her attention to Alpha team that had just finished their run, already looking mentally exhausted, “How are the teams looking this year?”

 “They’re looking pretty good” Lance said, the pride shining in his eyes, “It helps that there aren’t any cadets pretending to be male because they were previously banned from Garrison premises”

 “That was one time,” Pidge huffed, “And it was Iverson’s fault for trying to cover up secrets about Kerberos”

 “I still can’t believe I didn’t realize you were a girl” Lance sighed, the memories flooding back to him, “how did you shower back then? How were you able to use the bathroom?”

 “Lance, you don’t want to know” Pidge said.

 “In hindsight, I’m glad I thought you were a boy” Lance said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

 “Thanks, Lance” Pidge said, biting the inside of her cheeks, “That’s exactly what I want to hear on a Monday morning”

 “If I knew you were a girl, I probably would’ve flirted with you the whole time” he admitted, an irritatingly familiar heat sneaking up his neck.

“Well, that was a bullet dodged,” Pidge said, an uncomfortable feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach, “I barely survived hearing your pickup lines at all”

 “Hey, my pickup lines were awesome,” Lance said, “You would have fallen for them, no problem.

 “Lance” Pidge said, looking at him with a mixture of bemusement and concern, “No one falls for your pickup lines”

 “Some of them eventually worked on Allura” Lance said indignantly.

 “Please don’t insult Allura’s intelligence, Lance” Pidge said, stifling a laugh, “That’s just crossing the line”

 Their attention was turned back to the students as the simulator doors cracked open, a hissing noise fizzling through as the team inside disembarked, allowing the next team to settle in. Pidge made a mental note to fix the pressure systems in those pods next week, after she finished work on the Atlas’ new cooling turbines.  

 “That’s weird” Lance said, looking around the room.

 “What’s weird?” Pidge said, her eyes searching the room for anything strange.

“I could’ve sworn it was here a second ago,” Lance said, clutching at his chest.

 “Did you lose something?” Pidge said.

 “My heart Pidge,” Lance said, grinning widely at her, “You’ve stolen it”

 “I didn’t hit you that hard, did I?” Pidge said, inspecting him for any visible signs of brain damage.

 “I was feeling a little off earlier,” Lance said, struggling to keep the grin off of his face, “but seeing you has turned me on”

 “Maybe hitting you harder will fix this,” Pidge muttered to herself, an acute discomfort rolling through her.

 “You’re looking kind of tired, Pidge,” Lance said.

 “I’m tired of whatever this is,” Pidge retorted.

 “It must be because you keep running through my mind” Lance said, forcing his voice lower.

 “That was terrible” Pidge said.

 “Does that mean the first two were good?” Lance said, laughing at her horrified expression.

 “It was all terrible,” Pidge said, looking him directly in the eyes, “All of it”

 “Really?” Lance said, looking at her with a raised eyebrow “I thought it worked for a second there”

 “Pickup lines aren’t going to work on me,” Pidge said, successfully shrugging away her discomfort.

 “Fair enough” Lance said, a warm blush starting to dust his cheeks, “Then how about dinner and a movie?”

 Pidge was sure her heart skipped a beat. She’ll need to get that checked out.

 “It depends,” Pidge coughed out avoiding his warm gaze, “What movie is it?”

 “How do some classic comic book movies sound?” he said.

 “That could work,” Pidge said, meeting his gaze. She could feel something warm engulfing her insides after seeing the way he looked at her. She’d need to make an appointment with the cardiologist sometime next week.

 “Are we clear that this is…” Lance said, smiling back at her, “A date?”

 “Is this a non-platonic date?” Pidge asks, her cheeks glowing.

 “I think we’ve been very non-platonic for a while now,” Lance sighed, watching the way her lips moved closely.

 “You still have students to teach,” Pidge said, in an attempt to remind them both.

 “I could just dismiss them,” Lance whispered.

 “You don’t have grounds to dismiss them,” Pidge countered.

 “Wanting to kiss your fellow instructor should be sufficient grounds for dismissing a class” Lance said, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m sure it’s in the handbook somewhere”

 “Well, are you going to dismiss them yet?” Pidge said, “We don’t have all day”

  End note:

 Well, that’s done. I wanted to make this longer but that’s all I could think of for this scenario.

 I’ll be honest I wanted this to end with Pidge using a pick up line on Lance but I just couldn’t figure out a way to accurately portray a pick up line delivered by Pidge.

I just don’t have the skills.

So we get this instead.

 Again thanks for making it this far.

[bellarkelifestyle]

OKAY SO i know no one even ASKED for this but this came up on my dash 

and it was like the idea just formed fully all at once in my head like the whole damn thing just all of it and i couldn’t help myself so here it is this is my first time writing a fic and its ALL FLUFF don’t sue me i just couldn’t stop myself

@selflessbellamy i don’t know if this will even mildly satisfy you or if you’ll even enjoy it but i also wish bell and clarke could live in a world where dancing is a thing so here goes

set up: the unity day masquerade dance (the same one octavia gets arrested at)

Clarke’s at the Unity Day masquerade dance, alone, all because Wells had cadet training. When Clarke complained to him, he just said to go make new friends. “Life doesn’t happen just in Alpha station, Clarke.” Well, of course she knew that, she worked in med bay after all. But after her dad started berating her on wasting the best, most carefree years of her life by sitting on the couch watching old soccer games, she grabbed her mom’s old masquerade mask and huffed out the door, grumbling the entire way to the mess. 

After dancing solo to a few upbeat songs, she knew coming was a mistake when they started playing a slow song. A waltz, if she remembered correctly. Internally groaning, she was jostled and shoved until she found herself on the sidelines of the dance, watching as everyone grabbed a partner and began dancing. This was the nice thing about the Unity Day dance. For one night, when the masks were on, no one cared if you came from Farm station or Mecha, Factory, or Alpha. Everyone just… was. Was having a good time, that is, except for Clarke. Standing alone like a total loser. Of course this had to be the year there was an odd number of kids at the dance. 

All of a sudden, someone grabbed her hand and was whisking her into the crowd. Between the lights, music, quick spinning movements, and probability that someone had spiked the punch (she would bet two weeks of rations that it was that engineering kid Monty, from Farm Station), she couldn’t see where or who she had ended up with. Steadying herself by placing her hands out around her, she clutched the zipper of a jacket. A guard jacket, she realized as she took in the black colour, plastered with Ark regalia. Looking up, she began to demand, “Who-”, but when her eyes landed on the guardsman’s face, the words died out in her throat. The guy was seriously gorgeous. Tan, caramel-coloured skin, with a smattering of freckles and dark, warm, brown eyes, framed by a mess of black hair she knew was just barely restrained by the hair gel, all topped off with a self-righteous smirk. All she could manage to say was, “Oh…”, her voice trailing off as her demanding questions vanished from recent memory.

“Don’t you worry, Princess, no one’s arresting you tonight. Can’t a guard take a break?” The boy teases. Bellamy is his name, but Clarke wouldn’t learn that tonight. Taking in his uniform, she spots the name tag with the word ‘Blake’ stamped on it. Not from Alpha station then; wonder how he got onto the guard, Clarke thinks to herself. Before she can say anything, Bellamy has them moving, his feet leading Clarke to move hers as well. Normally she hates being told what to do, but in this particular case, she finds that she doesn’t mind it so much. 

She suddenly picks up on something he said, and just like that, her annoyance returns. “Hey, I’m no princess! And you’re no guard. I recognize that insignia, you’re just a cadet,” she smirks up at him, but then immediately feels bad as she sees discomfort and shame flicker across his face, before it closes off, the smirk being replaced by a cold line. She feels his hands and shoulders tense up, only further adding to their mutual discomfort. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “that was a princess-y thing to say, wasn’t it?” His gaze opens up a bit, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s just that, my friend’s in cadet training too. That’s where he is tonight. Training. To be a cadet.” Bellamy’s smirk returns as he watches her speak stutteringly.

He shakes his head quickly, then looks away while saying, “No worries, Princess. Your clothes gave you away, that’s all.” He turns to look back at her, and Clarke feels caught off guard by his gaze. Feeling… something, she breaks their eye contact and chooses a new topic of conversation, one decidedly less inflammatory than the Ark’s unofficial classism.

“Where’d you even learn to dance anyway?” she asks. “I thought you guard-types were all strength, no coordination.”

“All strength? I’ll thank you for that, but in fact, being a guard is all about coordination. The use of a shock baton, I’ll have you know, is like a dance. The twirling prior to its execution, it counts for everything.”

Clarke finds a snorting kind of laugh escaping her mouth, but she cuts it off, regarding him with a smirk and an eyebrow raise. “Funny,” she proclaims, and sees a proud smirk mirrored on Bellamy’s face. This time, he breaks the eye contact as he motions for her to twirl under his arm, his gaze distracted and sweeping the room. “But really, why are you here? I mean, dancing?” As their hands rejoin, Clarke studies the contrast in skin tone, his golden-brown hand large, slightly rough, dotted with a few freckles, and her hand pale, but slightly flushed, almost engulfed within his. Looking up, she sees he’s still sweeping the room.

“Let’s just say I’m keeping an eye on someone, official guard -or, cadet - duty, you know? And this arrangement provides the best view,” Bellamy snaps his gaze down to her face, then quickly travels up and down her body, before looking back up and continuing his search. “for more than one reason.” Clarke feels herself flushing, and before she has time to control it, his gaze slides back to her, annoying smirk already in place. 

Irritated by his pride, but unable to think of a response, she just huffs and grumbles about “shit-eating grins and self-confident guards” under her breath. They continue dancing, around and around. Damn, this is a really long song, Clarke complains to herself, but she knows she doesn’t really mind. Even though they just met, being in the same space as this boy doesn’t make her uncomfortable or nervous. It feels so familiar, calming almost. Like they’ve known each other for years. Like she could trust him with anything, even her life. And by the relaxed set of his shoulders, she could guess he feels the same way.

After a while of the repeating cycle of Bellamy sweeping the room, Clarke looking at his chest, and them occasionally meeting glances, she’s grateful that he swept her off the sidelines. She could’ve have been spending these minutes alone and feeling sorry for herself, instead of enjoying her time here. Her dad and Wells would be proud. 

“Thank you,” she finally says, and Bellamy cuts his sweeping glance short, turning his head back around to face Clarke, giving her an odd, questioning look, like he’s never heard the words before. She continues, “for keeping me alive.” Bellamy looks shocked for a quick second, then throws his head back, releasing a short laugh, before facing her again, the once-annoying-but-now-charming smirk on his face.

“Keeping you alive? Surely the embarrassment of spending a slow dance alone wouldn’t have been that bad,” he responds. “You don’t make it easy, you know, shuffling like that.” Seeing his amused smirk, Clarke blushes, dropping her gaze to their feet, hers hesitant, his confident, leading them around and around and around. “Hey,” he adds softly, “you’re welcome. For what it’s worth, thanks for letting me grab you off the sides like that. Appreciate it.” Clarke looks back up, and Bellamy gives her a nod paired with a small, close-lipped smile. She smiles back, and they dance in comfortable silence, stealing quick glances at each other and sharing small smiles until the song melds back into the regular fast-paced and thumping-bass variety.

She hadn’t noticed it while waltzing, but they had gradually drifted so close to each other that their chests were almost touching. It was intimate, maybe too intimate. But Clarke found herself not wanting it any other way. She peered up, and saw Bellamy staring at her, a heat in his eyes that she had never encountered before. His gaze dropped to her lips and his breathing hitched. In some sort of automatic response, she inhaled sharply, and in one quick motion he licked and then pursed his lips. His lips… The lights flashed red, and the moment broke. 

“Well,” Bellamy says, whipping his head back, followed by his hand drifting from her waist as he pulls away. 

“Well,” Clarke replies, dropping her hand from his shoulder, then looking down at their linked hands. She doesn’t really want to let go yet. She feels Bellamy’s gaze on her and looks up. He’s giving her a weird sort of expression. Quickly, reluctantly, she drops his hand, being met with only slight resistance. Twisting her fingers, she regards him, standing tall and strong beside her, his gaze confidently sweeping the room. He swivels his head back to face her so quickly Clarke fears he’s caught her staring. Instead, he just pulls his characteristic smirk. 

“Well, Princess, looks like I’ve gotta run. Guard duty and all,” he tells her as he backs away.

Bellamy’s shoulders begin to turn, and Clarke knows if she doesn’t ask now she might never get to ask again, so she blurts, “Hey! What’s your name?”

Bellamy turns back, his signature smirk lighting up his face, “Maybe next time, Princess,” and somehow manages to disappear into the crowd, despite his tall frame. As he trails off, Clarke thinks she hears the words “Best Unity Day, ever,” but she can’t be sure.

Clarke might’ve been standing there for seconds, or minutes, or even hours, but the next thing she registers is the alarm sounding. “Solar flare alert. Solar flare alert.” She snaps out of her reverie and commences the standard emergency protocol, removing her mask and pulling out her ID. 

Somewhere in the chaos, she sees a tall head of barely tamed black curls, charging through the crowd - towards a short girl with brown hair swept up into a ponytail - but she loses sight of it, of him, as a guard enters her field of vision, asking “ID, please.”

Clarke focuses on the man in front of her, relaying the words she’s been taught to say since she was a child. "Clarke Griffin, Alpha station. Medical apprentice. Parents: Dr. Abigail Griffin, and Jake Griffin.” She lets the guard move her toward the window and is left searching, wondering, about the freckled boy with hair the colour of night.

if anyone actually read this PLS PLS PLS let me know what you think i would really love to know check out my other fic here

[voyagerafod]

Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 2 of 4: Louder Than Bells: Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

    Seven of Nine and Samantha had been given a week of “shore leave” by the Captain. Though with no M-class nearby, and even if there were Voyager was fully stocked with necessary supplies, the options the couple had were limited to their quarters, the holodeck, and little else.

    They did not mind however. It had only been a week prior that Sam had nearly died. Seven was unused to the concept of a vacation however, and when word spread through the ship that work on a new slipstream drive, one that could work longer than the one they’d briefly had less than a year ago that had burned out after shaving several years off their journey to the Alpha Quadrant, she learned a new word from Samantha that had not been in her vocabulary before.     “Antsy?” Seven said, lying in bed next to Sam. “I am unfamiliar with that term.”     Samantha laughed. “Basically, it means you can’t wait for your time off to officially be over so you can work on that quantum matrix thing, whatever that means.” Samantha raised her hand. “And don’t try explaining it to me, I’m a biologist. Warp theory has never been my strong suit. It was probably my worst class at the academy besides Command.”     “I never knew you took Command classes,” Seven said.     “I needed an elective, and I waited too long and missed a slot in Early Federation History,” Samantha closed her eyes and chuckled. “Oh sweetie, you’d have been so embarrassed for me. Can you believe I actually tried to use diplomacy during the Kobayashi Maru?”     “Why would that be embarrassing? I imagine most cadets would never even consider that.”

    “With good reason. They don’t call it the no-win scenario for nothing. I think they only let me live as long as they did out of sympathy. The simulation ended with the Maru getting captured by the Romulans anyway, and me having to run away to save what was left of the ship.”

    “Hmm,” Seven said. She didn’t really have anything to add to the conversation at that point, so she tried to think of a segue into another topic.     “Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Annie,” Samantha said, interrupting Seven’s train of thought.

    “What were you intending to ask?”

    “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but the last two nights you were staying here, since you didn’t need to be in your alcove to recharge or anything, you kind of got up in the middle of the night and wandered off.”     “I did?” Seven said, genuinely confused. “I have no memory of this.”

    “Perhaps you were sleepwalking then,” Sam said. “You might want to talk to the Doctor about that. Have you been having any problems with your regeneration cycles?”     “None that I can- No, now that you mention it, I did feel as though my last few cycles were incomplete somehow. This certainly is concerning. I will speak to the Doctor in the morning. I can complete two task simultaneously if I do so after escorting Naomi there for her next botany lesson.”

    “Good idea,” Sam said, kissing Seven on the forehead. “Good night, Annie.”     “Good night, Sam,” Seven said, resting her head on her pillow and closing her eyes.

---

    “So Neelix told me that the Borg do a lot of the things they do because they’re trying to be perfect,” Naomi said as she and Seven of Nine walked down the corridor side by side. “And even though you’re not a drone anymore, you do still try to be perfect. Right?”

    “Mostly correct,” Seven said. “My long term goals are equally divided between achieving perfection, and trying to be a good partner to your mother.”

    “Well, if I can learn to be perfect too, then Captain Janeway will have to make me her bridge assistant.”

“If you have been curious about the Borg you could’ve inquired me at any time over the past year,” Seven said, smirking.     “But I wasn’t trying to become a Bridge Assistant until a few weeks ago,” Naomi said, proud of her logic.     “I admire your determination, Naomi. However, your neocortical development is incomplete. You are definitely intelligent, sometimes too intelligent for your own good as Sam sometimes says.”     “Hey!” Naomi said, mildly offended.     Seven looked like she was about to keep talking but then stopped.     “Seven?” Naomi said, feeling a little worried as Seven seemed to stare at nothing for a few moments. Seven started looking around, like she didn’t know where she was until she was looking at straight at her. A huge smile, probably the biggest one Naomi had ever seen Seven have without her mom around, appeared on Seven’s face.     “Hi,” Seven said in a cheery voice.     “Uh, hi,” Naomi said. She couldn’t say exactly what was wrong, but she felt that something was off with Seven, and she was even more worried now than she’d been when Seven had first stopped in the middle of the hall.     “I’m bored, let’s do something fun,” Seven said, acting like a child herself.     Is that how I look to other people when I’m bored? Naomi thought.

“Like what?” Naomi said, playing along for now, wondering just why her mom’s girlfriend was acting so weird.     “Like, swimming?”     Naomi remembered reading some stories that she wasn’t supposed to about other starship’s adventures, and one she’d read about had involved members of the crew of the Enterprise-D being taken over by bodiless aliens. She wondered if that was happening to Seven of Nine, though if it was an alien, it was a very, very young alien, who really didn’t seem to want to take over the ship.     “I’m not allowed to go swimming without my mom,” Naomi said. If Seven was possessed somehow, she was going to find out everything she could about the alien before reporting to the captain, like a good officer would.     “Oh,” Seven said. “Do you like kadis-kot?”     Naomi smiled involuntarily. She actually did love that game, and have even offered to teach Seven how to play it once, but she had said she wasn’t interested.     “I love it,” she said.     “Come on,” Seven said, taking Naomi’s hand and skipping in the opposite direction they had been, giggling the whole way.

---

    The last thing Captain Janeway had expected to hear on the bridge was a call from Naomi Wildman, but when Naomi said that she was worried that something was happening to Seven, she sat up straight in her captain’s chair.     “It was like she was someone else for a little bit,” Naomi’s voice over the com system.     “Someone else?”

    “Yeah. She started acting like a little kid. Littler than me even, and she wanted to go swimming, and play kadis-kot. And when B’Elanna called her she didn’t even respond, like she didn’t know her own name.”     “Did she give another name?” Janeway asked, looking at Chakotay. He simply shrugged.     “No, but after the second time B’Elanna called for her, Seven looked kinda confused, and didn’t remember coming back to mom’s quarters to play. She left for engineering just a minute or so ago. I’m really worried about her captain. I’ve read about alien possessions, but I’m not sure that’s it anymore. I think Seven might be sick.”     “Okay Naomi,” Janeway said. “I’ll have her report to sickbay to talk to the Doctor, if there’s anything wrong he might-”     Janeway was interrupted by a sound coming from Tuvok’s console.     “Security alert in engineering captain,” he said. “Apparently Seven of Nine just attacked Lieutenant Torres.”     “Set up force fields to try and contain her. Take a team, but take the Doctor as well. Seven might be-”     “I heard your conversation with Ms. Wildman captain. I will go personally to make sure Seven of Nine is unharmed.”

    “Do it,” Janeway said.

---

    Tuvok and his team, the Doctor following close behind them, walked up to the turn in the corridor where the force fields had Seven of Nine contained. As he approached he saw another security officer, lying face down, but breathing, and Seven of Nine, huddled up against the wall, holding a hand phaser, and quietly sobbing.     She looked up, presumably hearing them approach. She looked terrified, and glanced at the downed crewman.     “He’s hurt. Please help him,” she said.

    Tuvok kept his phaser out, but motioned for the people on his team to sheath theirs and go aid the injured crewman, who was already trying to stand up, groaning as he did so. Seven looked at him, then looked at his phaser and began fidgeting.     “Did I do something bad?” she said.

    “Who are you?” Tuvok said.     “My name’s Maryl,” Seven said. “Are you a Vulcan?”     “Computer,” Tuvok said. “Deactivate force field.” The energy shield dropped immediately, and Tuvok calmly knelt down by Seven and said “give me the phaser,” in a tone he would when speaking to his own children when they were young and had not yet mastered the ability to suppress fear. Seven did so, holding it cautiously by the very end of the handle, as if afraid she would accidentally fire it. Once Tuvok deactivated it and handed it to the security officer standing next to him, Seven’s demeanor suddenly and radically changed. She stood and began speaking in a tone not unlike that of a Vulcan.     “You are not a physician commander, the logical course of action would be to take him to the infirmary,” she said.     “Maryl?” Tuvok said.     “Subaltern Lorot, Vulcan High Command,” Seven said. “May I be of assistance?”

    “Yes, Tuvok said. “Please accompany me to sickbay.”

    “Certainly,” Seven said, walking ahead of Tuvok without any prompting. “Clearly your crewmate was attacked, we should use caution and-” Seven stopped walking, and began to look around, appearing confused.     “Pah’tak,” she said, saying the Klingon word with bitter anger in her voice. “You will drown in your own blood.”     “Keep moving,” Tuvok said sternly.     Seven turned around, starting to scream. Tuvok fired his phaser, and Seven fell to the floor, unconscious.

---

    Seven woke up abruptly, gasping as her eyes opened. She quickly realized she was lying in a bio-bed in sickbay, unsure of how she got there. The last thing she was remembered was B’Elanna Torres suggesting she see the Doctor about her memory lapse that she’d experienced with Naomi.

    “Seven?” she heard the captain say.     “Honey, are you okay?” Sam said. The two women were standing over her on one side of the bio-bed, The Doctor and Tuvok on the other. Seven thought she could hear other people talking as well, talking over each other, but she couldn’t see anyone else.     “Captain? Sammy? Why am I here?”

    “You’ve been unconscious nearly two hours,” Janeway said. “We believe you are experiencing some kind of neurological disorder.”     “Voices,” Seven said. The voices she’d heard a few seconds before, that she thought might’ve been other people in sickbay, were getting louder now, and it was clear that they were in her head. There were just too many of them, and they were shouting. “I hear voices.”     Sam frowned, and squeezed Seven’s hand.     “Describe them,” the Doctor said.

    “They are agitated,” Seven said, feeling a growing sense of unease. “Chaotic. Too many voices.” She heard a piercing scream, and tensed up, gasping again. She felt Sam’s hand squeeze her’s a little tighter.     “Mommy, where are you?” she distinctly heard one of the voices saying, the voice of a scared child. “Somebody rescue me!” another voice, a male one, cried out. The voices became less and less distinct and soon she couldn’t make out a single word. She sat up abruptly.     “Too many voices!” she said, panicked. Samantha put her free hand on Seven’s back.     “Baby, it’s okay. I’m here,” she said. The Doctor began running his medical tricorder scanner over her.     “The cortical inhibitor is destabilizing,” he said. He began adjusting a device that Seven only now realized was on the side of her neck. “I’m increasing the neurotransmitter levels.”     As he adjusted the device, the voices got quieter and more distant. She leaned against Samantha, who was looking at the Doctor with grave concern.     “What’s happening to her?” she said.     “I wish I knew,” the Doctor said, “Seven, do you still hear the voices?”     “They are fading,” Seven said, breathing heavily. “They are gone.”     “Good,” Captain Janeway said. “Let’s see what we can do to keep them from coming back. What’s the last thing you remember?”     Seven told her.     “You have no recollection of a confrontation with Lieutenant Torres?” Tuvok said.     “A confrontation? No, like I said, the last thing I remember is her telling me to see the Doctor about my memory lapse.” Seven was feeling scared. She imagined it would be worse if Samantha wasn’t there with her, close enough to her that Seven could hear her heartbeat.     “I’m not sure why,” the Doctor said, “but you seem to manifesting personalities other than your own. Naomi said that briefly you were a child, and played kadis-kot with her this afternoon.”   

    “I am familiar with that game,” Seven said. “But I have never played it.”     “You also attacked B’Elanna,” Tuvok said. “after claiming to be a Klingon, the son of K’Vok you called yourself, before initiating a Klingon mating ritual. Before we brought you to sickbay, you also presented yourself as a member of the Vulcan High Command.”     Seven shook her head. “I have no memory of these events.”     “Come look at this,” the Doctor said, having moved across the room to one of sickbay’s monitors. Seven and Samantha both moved to see what he was talking about, Janeway and Tuvok close behind.     “This is your neural pattern,” the Doctor continued, “And here are thirteen new neural patterns that have emerged in your cerebral cortex. Klingon, Vulcan, Terrelian, Human, several others I can’t identify.”     “How?” Seven asked.     “They’re coming from within you,” the Doctor said. Seven just looked at him, while Samantha sighed.     “My hypothesis is that they belong to individuals assimilated by the Borg during your eighteen years as a drone. They, like the neural patterns of all who are assimilated, are incorporated into the Borg hive mind, stored in the cortical implants of all drones. They are now very active in you, and they appear to be manifesting themselves randomly, causing you to randomly mentally become that person.”     “So,” Samantha said, “are you saying that she’s basically got the Borg equivalent of multiple personality disorder?”     “I think you put it very succinctly Ensign Wildman,” the Doctor said.     “Did I hurt anyone else? Is B’Elanna alright?” Seven asked.     “You stunned a security officer,” Tuvok said, “But he has already been cleared for duty. And B’Elanna’s wound was treated on site.”     “Can you correct the malfunction?” Seven said.     “The cortical inhibitor is suppressing the effect,” the Doctor said. “But it’s only a temporary measure.”     “B’Elanna detected a Borg interlink frequency coming from a field of debris that used to be a Borg cube that we were going around,” Janeway said. “Could that be the cause of this?”     “Yes,” Seven said. “That makes sense. I was unaware that such a debris field had been found.”     “You were on vacation Seven,” Janeway said. “We briefly considered the idea of trying to find out what destroyed the cube, but figured it would be safer to be nowhere near it if another cube showed up trying to find out the same thing. Maybe we should increase our speed, try to get out of range.”     “The signal permeates subspace,” Seven said. “We cannot avoid it.”     “We have to find that signal and shut it down,” Sam said.     “I agree,” the Doctor said.     Janeway nodded. She turned to Tuvok. “Have Tom set a course for the debris field.” As Tuvok left sickbay, Janeway turned back to face Seven. “When we arrive we may need your help. Feel up to it?”

    Not really, Seven thought, but she turned her head, looked into Samantha’s eyes, and smiled. “Yes, Captain,” she said.     Janeway nodded. “Keep a close eye on her Doctor,” she said. “In case she has any more unexpected visitors.”     “Is it alright if I stay here with her?” Sam asked.     “Of course,” the Doctor said. “But we’ll want to have some sedatives on hand in case the Son of K’Vok comes back. Hopefully he’s not into human women.”     “If that was supposed to be reassuring, Doctor,” Seven said, “it was a failed attempt. You do however raise a valid concern. Sam, if someone bad comes through, you need to back away. This is as much a technological issue as a mental one. How much I love you won’t matter if one of the personalities that asserts itself wishes to harm you.”     Sam touched Seven’s cheek gently.     “Okay,” she said. “Do you want me to tell Naomi what’s happening?”

“Yes,” Seven said. “though for obvious reasons it’s best she be kept away from me until this issue is resolved.”     Samantha nodded sadly.     “I’ll go tell her. I’ll be right back, I promise.” Samantha gave Seven a quick kiss before exiting sickbay. When she was gone, Seven heard the Doctor sigh.     “It’s a shame that love can’t cure all really,” he said. “If it could, I imagine you’d be getting better already.”     “Doctor, please stop talking,” Seven said, shaking her head.

“Actually Seven, I was thinking we should go to your alcove.”     “Why?”     “I want to try and determine exactly when this started occurring. That may prove invaluable in helping treat your condition.”     “That is logical,” Seven said. “But we should be quick about it so we can return to sickbay before Sam does.”     “Agreed.” She followed the Doctor out of sickbay and the two headed for the nearest turbolift. Once they were inside, the Doctor began asking more questions.     “Has any drone ever experienced symptoms like this before?”     “The Collective does not tolerate imperfection,” Seven said. “Any drone with a malfunction as serious as mine would be destroyed immediately.”

“Lucky for you this crew is a little more tolerant,” the Doctor said. Seven, still feeling agitated and tense as a result of her condition, considered bringing up the Tuvix incident from three years ago, but was by sheer coincidence interrupted by the approach of one-half of that now deceased hybrid being.     “Ah, Seven,” Neelix said. “I was hoping I’d find you. B’Elanna told me you were ill.”

    “That is correct,” Seven said, not really wanting to talk to him but not wanting to be rude either.     “Well, if there is anything you need help with I’d be happy to do it. Any assignments you might need a hand finishing, anything special I can cook up for you, things like that. It can’t fix whatever’s going on, but I can at least boost your morale while you’re dealing with it.”     “I imagine that Samantha will want you to look after Naomi while she stays with me during my treatment. That will be adequate,” Seven said.     “Well, I have some wonderful medicinal teas that might help you relax if you’re interested,” Neelix said. Seven held back the urge to snap at him. He was only trying to help after all, even if he was being a bit overzealous in doing so.     “Talaxian homeopathy? I don’t think we’re quite that desperate yet.” The Doctor said.     Seven sighed, and rolled her eyes as she kept walking, the Doctor and Neelix both close behind her.     “I’ll let you two get back to what you were doing then,” Neelix said, turning down another corridor. “Feel better soon, Seven,” he added.     “Your concern is noted,” Seven said. Shortly, they were in cargo bay 2, the Doctor going over the data from Seven’s Borg alcove.     “I suspected as much,” he said. “There were several interruptions in your regeneration cycle.” He pointed to them on the monitor, and Seven saw numerous periods where the computer recorded her leaving a cycle early for periods as short as thirteen minutes, and as long as an hour.     “It’s not just that,” Seven said, remembering now what Samantha had said to her the previous night about the possibility that Seven had been sleepwalking. She explained this to the Doctor.     “So it's been going on for several days,” he said. “Amazing how no one picked up on it until today.”

    “Some did Doctor, they merely interpreted the data incorrectly, reaching a logical but wrong conclusion.”     “Fair point. Hmm, look here. Apparently you made a log entry under the name Ensign Stone. Shall we listen to it?”     “I do not believe that would be necessary,” Seven said.     “Very well,” the Doctor said. “At the very least we have a timeframe for when this started.”     Seven’s comm badge chirped.     “Bridge to Seven of Nine,” Commander Chakotay said, “we are approaching the debris field.”     “On my way commander,” Seven said. After the channel was closed she turned to face the Doctor. “I should tell Sam I’ll be on the bridge. If I’m not in sickbay when she returns from telling Naomi about my condition she’ll be worried.”     “Go ahead. I want to collect some more data from the alcove logs. I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

---

    “Survivors?” Janeway asked as Voyager flew into the middle of the debris field that had once been a Borg cube. The last time she’d seen a site like this, Species 8472 had been the cause. She wondered if that could be the case here.     “None,” Tuvok said.     “Any other Borg ships out there?” Janeway said, hearing the turbolift door open behind her as she spoke. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder to see Seven of Nine going to an open console at the rear of the bridge.     “None, Captain,” Tom Paris said from the helm. “Looks like we’re the first ones here.”     “I’m picking up the source of the interlink frequency,” Harry Kim said. “Bearing 0-2-7 mark three.”     “On screen,” Janeway said. A device that Janeway didn’t recognize, but was certainly Borg, appeared on screen, floating in the middle of the debris, surprisingly intact, glowing as though it still had power.     “A Borg vinculum,” Seven said.     “Vinculum?” Chakotay said.     “The processing device at the core of every Borg vessel,” Seven replied.     “Looks like this one has established a link to your cortical implant,” Harry said. “It probably thinks you’re an errant drone.”     “Precisely,” Seven said. “I believe it is attempting to reintegrate me into the collective. It is malfunctioning, sending me erratic commands.”     “Can you sever the link?” Janeway said.     “Not without risking permanent damage to my own systems,” Seven said. “It must be taken off-line. I request permission to beam it aboard. I’ve worked with this technology, I may be able to disable it.”     “We’re talking about the heart of a Borg cube. I’d rather not take it inside my ship,” Janeway said.     “Could you disable it remotely?” Chakotay said.     Seven sighed. “Yes, but I would need several days. The Borg may return by then. We should take the vinculum and leave this region immediately.”     Janeway looked at Chakotay. He nodded slightly, so much so that Seven might not have noticed it had she not been standing where she was.     “Tuvok,” Janeway said, standing and walking over to the tactical console. “Beam it aboard, and put it behind a level ten force field. Maintain constant surveillance. The moment it poses a threat beam it out into space. Tom, soon as it’s aboard, get us out of here, warp 9.”     “Aye, captain,” Tom said.     Janeway walked over to Seven.     “I can’t begin to imagine what this must be like for you, and I want to help any way I can. but the safety of the whole crew is my first responsibility.”     “Understood, Captain,” Seven said.

---

    As little as six months ago, B’Elanna Torres likely would’ve tried to kill Seven of Nine for what she’d done. But even before she heard about the vinculum and what it was doing to Seven, she felt more concern than rage. Not at the exact moment that Seven’s teeth were sinking into B’Elanna’s cheek of course, but once the initial adrenaline had worn off. Hopefully they could fix whatever was wrong and that bastard Son of K’Vok would never try to force himself on her again.

    “Let’s keep an eye on those anti-grav struts,” she said, walking through engineering double and triple checking everything to make sure the Borg device would not threaten the ship. “Joe, lock out all primary command consoles. Vorik, reroute all transporter controls to main engineering.”     She didn’t bother to listen for the affirmatives. She knew her team well enough to trust them with this task. While she was on the upper level she heard the main door to engineering open. She glanced down to Seven of Nine and the Doctor walk in. They passed by the vinculum, and Seven stopped, looking anxious. B’Elanna couldn’t hear them but she could guess what Seven was saying as the Doctor began adjusting the device on her neck that was suppressing the voices.

    B’Elanna went down to the lower level to meet them.     “Do not worry, Lieutenant,” Seven said. “The Son of K’Vok will not be joining us.”     “Good to hear,” B’Elanna said. “Though I do have to wonder why he keeps calling himself that. Does he think his given name is embarrassing or something?”     “What would a Klingon consider an embarrassing name?” the Doctor said.     “Can we focus on the task at hand?” Seven said, sounding exasperated.     “Right,” B’Elanna said. “So where’s the off switch on this thing?” she added, now looking at the vinculum.     “The vinculum is equipped with many safeguards. I will need to access its transneural matrix and disable it directly.” Seven began tapping at the console in front of her. With seconds an alert noise started.     “I’m reading a power surge,” B’Elanna said.     “It’s a normal response to my intrusion,” Seven said, continuing her work. A few seconds later her brow furrowed. “Curious. There appears to be an organism in the vinculum. It appears to be a viral agent.”

    “Let me see it,” the Doctor said. He looked at the data on the screen in front of him, B’Elanna looking too, even though viruses were outside her field of expertise. “It’s a synthetic pathogen,” he continued. “The virus was originally a biological agent, but it’s mutated. It’s attacking the vinculum’s programs as it would living cells.”     “An organism that attacks technology? That’s interesting. Maybe unheard of,” B’Elanna said, curiosity combining with concern for the ship.

    “According to the data the cube was infected less than a standard week ago after assimilating a ship belonging to species 6339,” Seven said. “They are native to this region of space.”     “Looks like we found our Typhoid Mary,” the Doctor said.

---

    Samantha paced back and forth in her quarters, feeling helpless. Last she’d heard Seven and the Doctor had gone to brief the Captain on the species who appeared to be the origin on the virus that had infected the Borg vinculum, and consequently were likely the ones responsible for Seven’s condition. Samantha was a biologist, she knew a fair amount about viruses, so she should’ve been able to help, but the complexity of the infection in the vinculum was beyond her.

    Naomi sat at the table, barely touching her food, just looking at her mother with concern.     “I’m sure she’ll be fine mom,” she said. “The Doctor and Captain Janeway will find a way to help her, I know it.”     “Oh how I wish I shared your confidence sweetie,” Samantha said, finally giving up on pacing and settling for worrying while sitting on the edge of her bed. Naomi got up and walked over to give her a hug.     “Do you wanna play kadis-kot?” Naomi asked.     Samantha smiled, and tousled Naomi’s hair. “Not tonight Naomi, I’m too distracted.”

    “Sickbay to Samantha Wildman,” the com system blurted out.     “Yes, Doctor, what is it?”     “Seven is back in sickbay. The inhibitor is no longer working. We’re going to try disabling the vinculum soon. I think you should be here, whichever way it goes.”     “I’m on my way,” Samantha said, bolting for the door. Naomi tried to follow, but Sam stopped her.     “No Naomi, you can’t, I’m sorry.”     “Why not?” Naomi said, looking both scared and angry.     “She wouldn’t want you to see her in the condition she’s in. Please, just go find Neelix, tell him I said to look after you tonight, okay? Promise me.”     Naomi pouted, but didn’t put up a fight. “Okay,” she said softly, leaving their quarters just behind Samantha, but going the opposite direction.

    Samantha walked quickly towards sickbay. When she got there, she saw Seven standing at the far end of the room, leaning against the surgical bio-bed, her face in her hands. She moved quickly to stand next to her, only registering the Doctor telling her to be careful after she walked face first into the containment field.     “Shit, that hurt!”     “Sammy, are you alright?” Seven said, sounding as worried for her, as Samantha felt for Seven.     “I’m okay. What happened?”     “The voices have started getting worse. I’m fine at the moment but that won’t last. A few minutes ago, according to the captain I was a Ferengi Damon, and before that a woman who was assimilated at Wolf 359. I believe the number of personalities I’ll be displaying will only increase if the Captain and Lieutenant Torres can’t safely get the vinculum offline. I-”     “Seven, breathe,” the Doctor said. “You keep talking at that pace you’ll hyperventilate.”     “Hold it together, Annie,” Samantha said. “I know you can. You are one of the bravest people I know, you can soldier through this.”     “I fear my courage may be insufficient,” Seven said.

---

    The Doctor wondered if he should wake Ensign Wildman, who had decided to get some rest while waiting for the procedure to disable the vinculum to begin. Seven of Nine was also asleep, having to be sedated after twelve new personalities had emerged in the past hour, including a Krenim scientist. a Bolian manicurist, and even a Talaxian trader at one point.

    On the one hand, if something went wrong, the sickbay computer’s alert sounds might wake Samantha anyway. On the other, he was concerned that she might get in the way if the procedure went badly. When B’Elanna alerted him over the com that they were about to begin, he decided to simply wake her. Much to the Doctor’s relief, Samantha wisely stood back, making sure she wouldn’t be in the way while he worked. He wished more crewmembers could follow her example.

The comlink kept open, the Doctor heard B’Elanna begin the final countdown.     “Three, two, one, mark,” she said. “Power output is dropping,” she said a few seconds later. Seven’s body convulsed slightly, but not alarmingly so.

“It seems to be working, her neural pattern is stabilizing,” he said.   

“Seventy-seven percent, seventy-one,” B’Elanna’s voice continued. “wait a second, it’s increasing now.”     “I am refocusing the dampening field,” The Doctor could hear Tuvok say. “The vinculum is rerouting its internal circuitry. It’s adapting.”     Before the Doctor could respond to that, Seven began thrashing on the bio-bed, cursing in Klingon, followed shortly by crying “Mother!” in a scared tone. He heard Samantha gasp, but to her credit she stayed where she was, as difficult as that must’ve been for her.

“Her synaptic pathways are failing!” he shouted into the com. “Abort the procedure!”     “Too many voices!” Seven cried out. “Help me!”     “Abort dammit!” the Doctor yelled     “Annie, stay with us baby, please,” Samantha said, fidgeting anxiously as the Doctor tried to stabilize Seven.

“Stand by Doctor,” Tuvok said. After several seconds, Seven fell unconscious. Samantha bolted to the other side of the bio-bed and took Seven’s hand in hers, trying to coax her into waking up.     “Bridge to sickbay,” Captain Janeway’s voice said, “Report.”     The Doctor looked over his data, and sighed.     “Seven’s neural pattern has disappeared Captain,” he said quietly. “It appears that the other patterns have taken over completely. We’ve lost her.”

“Annie?” he heard Samantha say, sobbing. “Wake up, I know you’re in there. Please wake up. Please.”

---

    “Captain's log, supplemental. Long range sensors have detected a vessel belonging to Species 6339. We've set a course to intercept them in the hopes they can help us restore Seven of Nine.”

    Almost as soon as Janeway finished her entry, the Doctor reported to her ready room as ordered to update her on Seven’s condition. Tuvok was there too, as he suggested that he might have a solution to the problem. She suspected what that was, but she wanted to wait until she heard what the Doctor had to say before approving.     “I’ve managed to stabilize her primary cortical functions,” the Doctor said, “but the woman in sickbay is not Seven of Nine. Not anymore. New personalities are emerging every few seconds now. She can’t even finish a sentence at this point. It’s creating intense strain on her cerebral cortex. If we don’t deactivate the vinculum soon we may never get her back.”

    “Understood. How is Sam holding up?” Janeway said.     “Better than expected,” the Doctor said. “When I asked her to leave sickbay she didn’t argue. I think it’s not entirely sunk in yet how severe this is. The last time I saw her this sad was, well, you know.”     Janeway was certain she did know, and simply nodded.

    “Tuvok?” she said.     “Lieutenant Torres is taking measures to try and prevent the vinculum from adapting, but there is no guarantee she’ll succeed. I believe the time has come for me to attempt a mind-meld with Seven of Nine.”

    “I don’t like it,” the Doctor said. “But that may be the only choice we have left. I’ve exhausted every medical option I can think of.”     “Agreed,” Tuvok said. “Seven’s neural pattern, her sense of self is immersed in chaos. I will attempt to isolate her true self and guide it to the surface.”     “A mind-meld with one person can be dangerous enough when you’re not dealing with another Vulcan,” Janeway said. “or with someone who is participating willingly. This is hundreds of personalities, and all of them will be fighting you every step of the way. Are you sure this is worth the risk?”     “This is my risk to take Captain,” Tuvok said. Janeway knew Tuvok well enough to know that arguing with him on this point would be a futile gesture, and frankly she wasn’t even sure she should fight him. He was her best friend, and she had full faith in his abilities. If anyone could pull this off...   

    “Alright, what will you need on our end?” she said.     “I will require two hours of meditation to prepare,” Tuvok said.     “Start now,” she said. “Report to sickbay when you’re ready.” Tuvok nodded, and headed out.     “Good luck Mr. Tuvok,” the Doctor said to the Vulcan as he departed the room. “With any luck I won’t end up with a second patient.”

    “I’ll be on the bridge,” Janeway said. “Report to me as soon as you’ve started.”     “Understood, Captain,” the Doctor said.

    As soon as Janeway was on the bridge, Commander Chakotay began speaking to her.     “I was about to call for you Captain,” he said. “We’ve found a ship belonging to Species 6339.”     “Scanners show that ship is heavily armed Captain,” Lieutenant Kim said. “I’m picking up twenty-two phaser cannons on the aft section alone.”     “Damn, 6339 doesn’t play around,” Ensign Paris said. “How do they even power that many weapons? Their ship isn’t much bigger than ours.”     “We can ask them later,” Janeway said. “after we’ve gotten them to help us with Seven’s condition. Hail them.”     “They’re responding,” Kim said.     “On screen,” Janeway said, turning to face the viewscreen, where two members of Species 6339 stood. “I’m Captain Janeway, of the Federation starship Voyager. We recently found a piece of Borg technology that’s been infected with a viral agent we believe was transmitted b-”     “The vinculum,” one of the aliens on the viewscreen said curtly. “You have it?”     “Yes,” Janeway said.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake Captain,” the alien said, stepping closer so that his face filled the whole screen.

---

    B’Elanna listened intently to the conversation that Ven, the captain of the Species 6339 vessel, was having with Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. I wonder why they didn’t just tell us their actual race’s name, she thought as the alien captain described the virus.     “A weapon?” Janeway said.     “Yes,” Ven said. “since the Borg decimated our world we’ve been looking for ways to retaliate. We created this virus to infect their technology. Thirteen volunteers were injected with it, brave men and women all of them, and they allowed themselves to be assimilated so that the virus would spread to that cube’s vinculum. Once another Borg ship retrieved it they would be infected as well.”     While the alien captain continued speaking, B’Elanna heard the door to engineering open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see who was entering.     Oh no, she thought as she saw Samantha Wildman enter, still in her civilian clothes, and having a look on her face that B’Elanna knew all too well even though she’d never seen it on Samantha before. It was the face of someone ready and willing to cause pain. She quietly took a few steps back, and caught Samantha’s arm as she tried to pass.     “Stay, cool,” B’Elanna whispered harshly.     “These are the people who made that virus?” Sam asked through gritted teeth.     “Yes, now don’t do anything rash, and no snide comments about how funny that is coming from me.”

    “-virus has had one unexpected casualty,” B’Elanna heard the captain say to Ven once she was focusing on their conversation again. “A member of my crew.”     “It wasn’t designed to infect other species,” Ven said, sounding offended.

    “She’s Borg,” Janeway said. Ven looked surprised and angry.     “We liberated her from the collective over a year ago,” Chakotay said. “She’s an individual now.”     “We were hoping you could help us treat her,” Janeway said.     “We designed that virus to destroy Borg, Captain. There is no treatment. I’m afraid your pet drone won’t survive.”     “She has a name you bastard,” Samantha barked out, trying to pull away from B’Elanna, who nearly lost her grip more due to surprised at how hard Sam was fighting her than anything else.     “Sam, Sam, relax,” B’Elanna said. Janeway, Chakotay, Captain Ven, and his armed guard were all looking in their direction now. B’Elanna feared that if she let go of Samantha both of them might get gunned down.     “Her name is Annika Hansen, and she’s dying because of you,” Sam cried. “You have to help her.”     The alien captain motioned for his guard to keep his weapon holstered, and walked over to stand closer to Samantha than B’Elanna felt comfortable. Janeway and Chakotay must’ve felt the same because they were positioning themselves to make a move on the alien captain if he tried anything.     “This drone, you and her are bonded?” he said.     “Yes,” Samantha said, looking like she was about to spit in his face.     “I’m truly sorry. I did not realize just how much this ex-Borg had integrated into your crew. I must admit to being impressed, I would never think such a thing possible. Taking on a name, a bondmate, and clearly earning a good deal of loyalty from her captain. Nonetheless, we never considered a treatment for this virus, considering its purpose. There is nothing we can do. Striking me may make you feel better, Sam, I believe the chief engineer called you? But it would only be temporary.”

The look on Samantha’s face didn’t change, but she was no longer struggling to break free of B’Elanna’s grasp to attack the alien captain. She decided to hold onto Sam’s arm anyway, just to be safe.

“The vinculum must be returned to the Borg debris field immediately Captain,” Ven said, now speaking to Janeway. “If the Borg arrive first we’ll have lost our chance, and those thirteen people will have died in vain.”

“How do you know they haven’t already? Janeway said. “When we came across the debris field it had been sitting there for several days, perhaps even a week, with no sign of any cubes coming to investigate. The Borg have transwarp technology, they could’ve been there in hours after the loss of the cube if they were truly determined to learn it’s fate. It’s possible that the collective detected the infection and cut the cube off to prevent it from spreading. Or even if they didn’t they might’ve just written it off as a loss. We found a dead Borg cube ourselves nearly two years ago that had been drifting in space even longer; five years. Five years with no Borg coming along to find out what happened to it or retrieve it s remains.”     “You’ll understand if I’m not willing to merely take your word for that and leave, Captain Janeway,” the alien captain said.     “Commander, show him the logs from Stardate 50614.2,” Janeway said.     “Yes Captain,” Chakotay said. “If you gentlemen will follow me over here,” he added motioning towards a console at the far end of engineering. B’Elanna figured that was for Samantha’s sake, since he easily could’ve shown them the mission logs on any of the monitors mere feet away from them on either side.

“If I let you go,” B’Elanna whispered into Sam’s ear “are you going to be a problem?”     “No,” Sam said. “I’m fine. Thank you for stopping me B’Elanna.”     “You know, you’re stronger than you look,” B’Elanna said, smiling.     “Thanks, I guess,” Samantha said, giving a sad small smile of her own before walking out of engineering, walking with the slow gait of someone hoping to delay something inevitable.     “Well done, Lieutenant,” Janeway said quietly, somehow having gotten right next to B’Elanna without her noticing. “We could’ve had an interspecies incident on our hands.”     “Don’t thank me too much Captain,” B’Elanna said. “If it were Tom dying in sickbay right now, I’d probably have tried to kill that man myself.”     “Not the response I was hoping for,” Janeway said. “but I appreciate the honesty.”     “You’re welcome.”

---

    Seven of Nine felt like herself for the first time in days when her eyes slowly and tiredly opened while the Doctor ran a device over her hand that she didn’t recognize right away, her cognitive functions not at their usual capacity.

    “Doctor?” she said.     “Seven, are you alright?” the Doctor said.     “I..” Seven started to speak, but noticed that she was now in restraints. Before she could ask, the Doctor explained.     “A necessary precaution.” he said. “A few of your guests have been violent.”

    “The vinculum?”     “It keeps adapting, we haven’t been able to shut it down. Your own neural pattern was nearly destroyed in the process. At one point I thought we actually had lost you.”

    The Doctor returned to running the device over Seven’s hand, and she finally recognized it.     “I was injured?” she said.

    “One of your personas hurt your hand trying to force her way out of the restraints,” the Doctor said.     “Sam?” Seven said, looking around, but not seeing her.     “She’ll be here soon, I sent her to her quarters to get some rest.”

    “How is she?” Seven said.     “Worried sick,” the Doctor said. “Almost certainly not eating or sleeping as much as she should. Normal behavior for a human in her position. As for you, it is my duty as your physician to inform you about an alternative treatment option that has presented itself, but informed consent is required. Mr. Tuvok is planning to attempt a mind-meld, to help stabilize your neural pattern.”     Seven nodded. “What is the probability of success?”

    “I don’t know,” the Doctor said. “A mind-meld is not really a standard medical practice. I know vaguely how it works, having seen Tuvok perform one a few years ago, while he was dealing with a virus that gave him false memories, but while the connection itself is scientific, what goes on in the minds of the parties is purely mental, unquantifiable.”     “Are there any risks to him?” she said.     “He could suffer brain damage, but he is confident he will be able to break the meld if he has to.”     Seven was reluctant to put the ship’s chief security and tactical officer in danger, but she was also scared; of the voices, of dying, of never seeing Sam or Naomi again.     “If he can help me,” Seven said, but couldn’t finish the thought, as the voices returned with a vengeance, louder and more painful than ever.     “Seven? Seven, focus on the sound of my voice!” she heard the Doctor yell, but couldn’t respond.     “Get them out, please!” she screamed.

---

    Tuvok, sitting in a meditative position, opened his eyes. He was ready. He quietly made his way to sickbay. An armed guard was there as a precaution against the worst case scenario. Samantha was there as well, standing by the bio-bed where Seven lay unconscious.     “Are you ready?” the Doctor said.     ���Yes,” Tuvok said.     “You might want to make it quick. So far Species 6339 hasn’t made an aggressive move to try and retake the vinculum, but the Captain is convinced that diplomacy is just a holding action at this point.” The Doctor applied a device the same as the one on Seven to Tuvok’s neck.     “This will allow me to monitor your neural activity as well,” the Doctor said. “At the first sign of trouble-”     “You will do nothing,” Tuvok said. “You have sat in on a mind-meld before Doctor, you know full well that there will be many signs of trouble for the duration of the meld. You must have confidence in my ability to endure them.”     “I don’t like it,” the Doctor said, “but you would understand better than I could. I’m neither Vulcan nor telepathic.”

Tuvok simply nodded in response, and walked towards the bio-bed.     “Ensign Wildman, I will need you to step aside during the meld.”     Samantha appeared nervous, but she simply sighed rather than arguing, bending down to kiss Seven of Nine on the forehead before stepping back. Once she was clear of the surgical bay, Tuvok ordered a force field erected as a precaution. While he did so, Seven woke up.     “Why am I tied to this bed? Please let me go,” she in a tone of voice that was clearly not hers. Tuvok ignored that voice, as well as the one of the Klingon warrior, the Ferengi captain, and the Vulcan commander, the latter of which trying to use logic to discourage him from making the attempt.

“My mind, to your mind. My thoughts, to your thoughts.” He kept repeating the mantra even as Seven grew more erratic, one voice claiming he was messing around while the Borg were attacking the ship, and another still crying for its mother. Soon, he was inside Seven of Nine’s consciousness. Through a green haze, down corridors like those on a Borg cube, he began his search.

---

    The ship shuddered under the impact of the first volley from Species 6339.     “And now you know why I chose science division over the diplomatic corps,” Janeway said angrily. “Return fire,” she said to Lieutenant Ayala who was standing at Tuvok’s station.     “I thought for awhile we’d convinced Captain Ven that trying to take the vinculum by force wasn’t worth it,” Commander Chakotay said.     “So did I,” Janeway said. “Bridge to engineering, how long until the vinculum is off-line?”

    “A minute, maybe two,” B’Elanna said over the com. “Provided Voyager doesn’t get blown up before then.”     “I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Janeway said. “Tom?”     “I can avoid some of their fire, Captain,” Tom said. “But as many guns as they’ve got they don’t need to have great aim to hit us.”     The ship shuddered under another volley as if to emphasize Tom’s point.     “Shields down to sixty percent,” Harry said.

    “Target their weapons array,” Janeway said.     “Targeting scanners are malfunctioning,” Lieutenant Ayala said. The ship shuddered yet again.     “We’re losing main thrusters,” Tom said. “If they go we’re an easy target. Well, easier anyway.”     “Shields at thirty-five percent,” Harry said.     “Reroute all available power to the shields,” Janeway said. “Initiate manual targeting.”

    “Torres to bridge,” B’Elanna said. “The vinculum’s stopped adapting. Looks like the new dampening field is working. We should have it down in the next sixty seconds.”     “Then that’s how long we need to hold out,” Janeway said. “As soon as that thing is off, we’ll give it back to Ven and we can get the hell out of here.”

    After a tense minute that felt nearly like an eternity while her ship was being pounded on by enemy fire, Janeway finally heard some good news.     “Got it” B'Elanna's voice shouted over the com. “Power’s down to nineteen percent and, no, make that thirteen and falling.”     The ship took another hit. This one felt worse than the others.     “Shields are down Captain,” Harry Kim said.     “Sickbay to Bridge. We got her back Captain,” the Doctor said.     “Hail the lead vessel, tell them we’re surrendering the vinculum,” Janeway said.     “Yes ma’am,” Harry said, tapping at his console. “No response,” he said, shaking his head.     “Lock onto the damn thing and beam it into space.”     “On it Captain,” B’Elanna said.

---

    Samantha couldn’t say anything she was so overjoyed. The moment the Doctor had said the words “We got her back” it felt like a weight in her chest just fell away. And as soon as the force field surrounding the surgical bay was down she was by Seven’s side.     “Sam? Seven said, weakly.     “I’m here, Annie.”     “Seven,” the Doctor said. “can you still hear any voices?”     Seven seemed to need to think about that for a moment before responding.     “No. They are gone,” she said. Samantha breathed a heavy sigh of relief upon hearing that.     “Thank you so much,” she said to Tuvok and the Doctor.     “I did only what was necessary to save a fellow crewmember,” Tuvok said. “But your thanks is appreciated nonetheless.”     “I recommend you get to your alcove as soon as possible,” the Doctor said. “You’ll need a considerable amount of time to properly recharge. And the trauma of what you went through won’t go away quickly.”     “Doctor,” Seven said, “with all due respect the last time I was given ‘time off’ I ended up worse off than when I’d started. I’d prefer to return to my duties as soon as possible.”     “That’s just pride talking honey,” Samantha said, smiling, and stroking Seven’s hair. “If you like I can ask the captain to give you extra duty after you’ve recovered.”     “That is acceptable,” Seven said.

    Should I tell her I was kidding? Samantha thought. “I- okay, I’ll do that.”

    “Why are you shaking your head and laughing Sam?”     “Oh, nothing. Just that I had to go and fall in love with a weirdo.”

---

    Several days later, in cargo bay 2, Seven stood at attention while the Doctor did his latest check-up on her, hopefully the last one he would do for awhile. She was already feeling much better after her ordeal, though she would admit only to Samantha a bit of guilt at having stayed in her alcove for nearly twenty-four hours straight after her first night out of sickbay. Sam had told her she had earned her rest.     “Neuroprocessor, cortical receptors, all stable,” the Doctor said. “You are fit to return to duty.”     “And what of my other personalities? Any risk they may resurface?”     “Those neural patterns have returned to their dormant state. They’ll always be with you, but I suspect you will not hear them again anytime soon.”

    “That is not the response I desired, but I will accept it,” Seven said. She turned when she heard the door to the cargo bay open, and smiled as Naomi Wildman rushed in. She had not seen the child in nearly a week and realized how much she’d missed her. She wondered if that was part of being a parent felt like.     “Was it scary?” Naomi said. “All the voices in your head? I know Mom was scared for you, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was like for you.”     “It was,” Seven paused for a moment, considering just how much detail she should share with the child. She decided to keep it simple. “It was the most scared I think I’ve ever been. But I’m better now. And, I’ve decided that I am going to help you in your mission to become a captain’s assistant.”     Naomi smiled, but also looked somewhat confused at the same time.     “I thought you said my ‘neocortical development is incomplete.’.”     “It is,” Seven admitted. “But that is insufficient reason to discourage you. Before we begin your instruction however, I do require your assistance.”     “For what?” Naomi asked.     “Kadis-kot. Instruct me how to play.”     Naomi smiled.     “I will comply,” she said.     “And I will leave you two alone. Have fun,” the Doctor said.