#is it ''''god'''' ? is it just an alien AI long since forgotten? or is it the universes mjnd itself? IT IS A MYSTERY

[bcneheaded]

Yall I've had this idea in my head for an AI entity character thing since forever and?? It's driving me absolutely bonkers, this consciousness wants OUT but I have no idea how to write it, it is simply too intricate and confusing

[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

I was thinking about Ianto/the Face of Boe (don’t ask) and so I started pondering the possibility of Ianto meeting an older Jack from further into the timeline, and then I had.......... a Thought™.

I’ve mentioned many times before that Ianto seems older in every season, like he looks So Babey in season 1, look at this, look at this face:

He looks so young.

BABEY

Super Babey, right?

But he looks noticeably older by season 2, and even more so by season 3. (Not a lot older, but noticeably older, you know?) Like so:

^ This is Ianto in ep 2x04

^ This is him in ep 2x10

^ And this is him in season 3, as we know.

So it occured to me that a fun explanation could be...... what if he looks older because he is older? Not just a few months to a year older between each season, but a few years older instead?

What if Ianto was thrust forward in time by the Rift or by rogue Time Agents, or by an alien artefact, or [insert plot device here], and he keeps running into different versions of Jack in the future? (Or maybe he keeps being kidnapped by an older Jack so he can spend more time with Ianto before he dies during the incident with the 456?)

Maybe the first time’s an accident, Ianto handles an artefact of unknown origin with his bare hands and he appears in the 85th century not two metres away from where Jack was standing.

So Ianto’s stuck in the future, thankfully with Jack who’ll obviously protect him and explain things, but he needs to go back because timelines, right? Jack doesn’t have a functioning Vortex Manipulator, so it takes him months to figure out a way to get him back. When he finally can, he doesn’t want to let go of Ianto, who he still remembered after all these years and who he’d grown close to again (who he’d fallen in love with again) knowing he’ll die in 2009 and Jack will never get to see him again. But as Jack warns him that he can’t tell 21st century him about his trip into the future, because Jack hadn't known back then and changing that could risk destroying the timeline, Ianto, brilliant, practical genius that he is, figures out the loophole: so long as he doesn’t tell his linear Jack, then they can do this again, can’t they? Ianto has a great poker face, he can do it. And, worst case scenario, Ianto has access to retcon. If older Jack gives him his consent to use it on younger him (he does) then he’ll even have a failsafe*. And Jack looks at him, shaken to the core, in that moment he could swear he’s never loved anyone so much as he loves Ianto Jones. So he starts planning his next trip.

*He doesn’t end up having to retcon Jack, but after Adam when they all retconned themselves, Ianto spends half a day thinking it’s because the team uncovered his little trips and he had to retcon all of them - until he finds the note he left himself in his trouser pocket to let himself know it was unrelated.

And then I had another Thought™.

The next time Ianto goes into the future, it’s deliberate. Jack all but takes him without asking, he goes for the time right after Abbadon when he left with the Doctor and takes Ianto straight to a very exclusive resort in the 93rd century to get one of those treatments to slow down aging like we see Liz 10 from DW had, except much more advanced, so he could live for several centuries and age so slowly it’d look like only a few years had passed.

And so Ianto keeps disappearing into the future and spending months or years at a time with older Jacks and his linear Jack doesn't find out because Ianto's only gone for a few minutes at a time from the 21st century; but he's staying in the future much longer. This is why he keeps such a detailed diary, he needs it to refresh his memory on where he left off things back in 2007-2009. At first they start with trips that are shorter than a year, because Ianto needs to remember what he’s coming back to. He doesn’t want Jack to grow suspicious, god only knew what he might think was going on if Ianto didn’t remember something that had happened “the day before”. But then at some point Jack acquires some tech that allows one to save memories and keep them fresh, so Ianto doesn’t have to rely solely on his diary, and they start making much, much longer trips (of several decades to a century). Jack gives Ianto some of the training he got at the Time Agency to ensure he doesn’t muddle up the timeline.

Anyway, Ianto starts keeping two diaries: one for the 2007-2009 period, and another for his trips, where he’s more relaxed about writing down details and which Jack keeps with him safe and sound in the future. Trips into the future can be domestic bliss or crazy world-saving adventures or both, you decide!

Bonus points if he isn’t meeting the older Jacks in chronological order after that first one!

Jack gets to show Ianto the stars, his own home planet, so many interesting alien species he never got to see on Earth, even working for Torchwood; he gets to show him the wonders of the galaxy and to take him beyond, further than Ianto could have ever imagined. He gets to introduce him to his mother, to so many friends, to some of his grandkids. He shows him the facilities of Torchwood 284, 740, 1371 and even later versions, and he takes him to the Torchwood Archive where there's AI holograms of the two of them living happily ever after. Hologram Jack, who was modelled after the 2009 real-life version, gets the shock of his non-life. Hologram Ianto has never looked so mischievous. He knew, of course. Hologram Ianto gets thoroughly snogged.

Jack not only gets to tell Ianto but also to show him that no matter how many thousands or even millions of years pass, he’ll never be forgotten, not while Jack’s still alive. And Jack’s gonna live for a long time. He’s gonna love Ianto for a very long time.

And because he has centuries to work it out, Jack finds a way to make Ianto immune to the virus at Thames House. He hunts down the bastards and has a cure bioengineered. He makes Ianto take it before he goes back to 2009 and he travels back to that day where Ianto “died” in Thames House, careful to arrive after the virus was released but before it dispelled enough to allow the bodies to be collected, and he takes Ianto (passed out as the cure works its magic but very much alive) and leaves behind a perfect copy.

When Ianto wakes up, perfectly healthy and well rested, it’s to find a slightly older-looking Jack grinning down at him.

For the first time since that first accidental trip, Jack knows that he doesn’t have to let Ianto go back to his past self to maintain the timeline. From then on, they can move forward together, no time jumps, no careful preserving of memories so that Ianto can pretend he never left the 21st century, no more secrets between them. They can just be.

[the-wiresmarvelau]

T.H.E. W.I.R.E.S.

Peter and his Friends are allowed to design the compound and couldn’t help but riddle it with secret tunels and hallways. While Peter installs said hallways he makes some new acquaintences who he has to help and gets help from.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2  - chapter 4

Chapter 3: secrets

The rest of the night was spent pacing about the compound.

Peter couldn’t stand even the thought of standing still but he knew that he was too wound up to be much good on patrol.

Instead, he took to walking up and down the corridors; until it literally drew him up the wall, how unproductive he.

Then he began distributing all the small things like pillows and decorations to all the Rooms he had roughly finished by then. Up to this point he didn’t have the nerve to do so much walking but right now it was exactly what he needed.

When he was done with the normal rooms, he did the same for the small spaces in THE WIRES he had built in for hiding or just chilling out.

The AI they wanted to install in there was almost finished and the young genius was eager to have him here.

They had decided on a male AI to even it out. His Name would be Manuel; since he was a manual for THE WIRES.

Ned loved this pun and they both were proud of their creation.

Peter tried to go through everything they had yet to code in his head in a desperate attempt to not think about Loki.

Yes, he wanted to save him and yes it had to be as fast as possible but the god had also said that it would take at least a day or two until he could contact his mother and right this moment the hero’s thoughts were too scattered to think of a solution.

As he went to bed, he was still more than a little distraught and didn’t think he would be able to so much as close an eye.

To his surprise, he drifted off fairly soon.

But it really couldn’t be called sleep as he was half conscious for most of the time and every time, he fell asleep properly, mere minutes passed until he was shaken awake again by sharp pains littering his back or threading through his mouth and lips.

Or he saw the god cowering in a cell, or being dragged out of it by his hair to be executed or to be whipped and beaten, again and again.

After a few hours spent half awake half dreaming up nightmares, he decided to get up.

It was of no use to torture himself also. There was enough pain already in this world.

Numb and slightly drowsy from tiredness he dragged himself to his bathroom.

While he showered, he tried to go through his options.

SHIELD was in ruins, therefore in no condition to house the god. Plus, they had been the ones banning him from ever coming back to earth in the first place.

They were out.

The government was similarly unprepared for this. They had neither the knowledge nor the resources to build a suitable housing and they would probably have to inform the public of what was going on, practically hanging a neon sign over the trickster’s head for Odin to find.

Mr. Stark was a whole other deal. He could build a safe facility and he wouldn’t even think about telling the media or government.

But as Loki had already mentioned. The billionaire wouldn’t hear him out in the first place.

He would berate the boy for talking to the Asgardian and threaten the god to leave them alone and to not play any tricks.

He wouldn’t see that just because someone was good at lying, didn’t mean they couldn’t also tell the truth.

And Peter knew that the New York incident offered enough opportunity for mayor grudges on his mentor’s side.

As Tony and him had grown closer both of them had opened up to each other.

The Inventor had told him about his childhood in Captain Americas shadow and the light of press cameras.

He had opened up about his time in Afghanistan, about Obadiah and Ultron and about what happened on the helicarrier and during the Chitauri invasion. Much of it during long nights, riddled with nightmares and panic attacks.

In return, the teenager had told him about uncle Ben, his guilt in his death and his sensory issues that came with his powers.

He told him about how the Vulture had found out his identity and how terrified he was when he almost drowned because of that guy.

They of course didn’t tell each other everything.

Everything Peter knew about his mentor’s childhood was pieced together from what he was told of the man’s nightmares and contextless rants.

Peter still didn’t know how Rhodes had become Tony’s friend and if Peter hadn’t seen the demolished suit, he wouldn’t even know half the extent of what went down in Siberia.

He still had no idea what exactly happened.

But that was okay. Tony was allowed to have secrets; besides, he was not the only one keeping them.

The teen had many himself.

He had never told Mr. Stark about Flash and Skip*. Or about the building, dropped on him.

Or that it was him, who he saved at the Stark Expo.

Or the meeting with DareDevil.

It was hard for him to talk after a nightmare. And other times he didn’t know how to bring stuff like this up with his father figure - because that’s what Tony had become for him at this point - even though he wanted the other to know.

Maybe that’s why he had made it a habit to look through old security footage now and again.

He wanted someone else to find what he couldn’t talk about, so he searched for hints of similar wishes and events in others.

During one of those searches he had come across the security footage of the day of the alien invasion as well as Loki’s arrival on Midgard (he didn’t want to know how and why Tony had gotten these from SHIELD) and with that, of Loki.

On that footage, something had been weird about his appearance, but back then he hadn’t really been able to name what it was, so he had let it slide pretty quickly.

After all, he was an alien.

But now, that he had seen how the god had presented himself, while he altered his looks to, what Peter assumed, was himself in a healthy condition; He was pretty sure he hadn’t been well back then either.

His pale skin had clung to his skull, the eyes sunken in and rimmed with red all around.

Keeping that in the back of his mind he decided that it would be best to keep the god somewhere close, so he could be protected.

And what was closer and safer than the very compound he currently resided in?

It was literally made to keep a hoard of super powered people safe.

There still was the part about Tony not hearing Loki out of course. But he was sure that helping the god was the right thing to do, he had to at least try and convince Tony to let Loki move in.

Unless.. he just wouldn’t know he was there.

Unsure about how good of an idea it actually was, he stepped out of the shower, went over to his closet and started to get dressed.

He needed to talk to Ned.

It was out of the question that his best friend would tell on Loki or him. He was the only person who knew everything about the superhero. And he trusted him with his life.

Together they would figure it out, though they had to find a way to get rid of KAREN.

Her Protocols would probably force her to relay all information about Peter and Loki to Mr Stark and that simply wouldn’t do.

Only problem: KAREN was still installed on his StarkWatch, hearing everything around him and simply taking it off would be a sure way to arouse suspicion, as he never took it off, save for when he showered.

Looking down to his wrist he cursed himself for how responsible he was. He had already put on his watch, first thing the moment he had towelled himself down.

He sat down for a moment to think about what he could do now.

The only reason to take another shower would be an extensive workout, after that he could pretend to have forgotten to put his watch back on again.

Peter really wasn’t in the mood for training but he needed to talk to his friend without the AI.

“KAREN, could you invite Ned over please? I wanna work on Manuel today” he asked while getting out some sports clothes and changed into them, a little annoyed with himself that he hadn’t thought about what to do before pulling on his normal wear.

‘I will text him at eight thirty, unless it is important enough to wake him up now?’ It was reassuring to hear her usual sass.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered, “it’s not urgent or anything. Please also ask Happy to pick him up and make a workout plan for the meantime. I’ve slumped on training a bit lately.”

‘If you say so’

It felt like it took an unreasonably long time for his friend to arrive.

When he finally got the text from Ned, telling him he was only five minutes away, Peter sent a text back that they would meet up in the lab and went to his room to take a shower.

He deliberately didn’t take any clothes into the bathroom and took extra-long, by the time he had to get out, he acted like he was in a great hurry, leaving KAREN behind in his bathroom.

No AI had been installed in the compound itself yet. The update for FRIDAY hadn’t been Mr. Stark’s highest priority, since the accords were much more time sensitive.

Grinning, the teenager made his way over to his personal lab. The only reason KAREN wasn’t installed there was that he had set his mind on having Manuel in there as ‘Peter Parker’s’ AI while KAREN remained with Spiderman.

Ned was already at the entrance to his lab, vibrating with anticipation.

That came to no one’s surprise, the boy was even more excitable than Peter and that was no small feat.

Additionally: this compound was massive, and he had helped design it and the fricking Avengers would live here. That was worth getting excited for.

“Ouuuuuh! This looks already soo cool. Here and there is a bare wall butit’sallcommingtogether. I can’t believe I’m actually here” The almost forgot to breathe with all the eagerness to share his mood with his best friend.

It had been some time since they last met in person. Both of them had been fairly busy and the compound wasn’t exactly close by.

But even trough is excitement did the boy pick up on the worry in his host’s eyes. The faint bags under them didn’t make it better and now that he paid attention to it, he also saw the nervous twitch in his hands and the lack of pep in his friend’s strides.

Something wasn’t quite right; and he was gonna find out what it was.

“Good to see you too Ned.” Came his greeting when Peter had come close enough to be heard while speaking at a normal volume.

Ever since the two had become accustomed to his super hearing, Ned started talking the moment he could see the other, knowing he would have no trouble understanding him.

The image of an energetic puppy was nearly impossible to shake.

A faint smile stole its way onto his lips at that thought.

The first since he had noticed the illusion in the roof last night.

Just like that the smile was wiped off his face.

“Oh no.” the shorter of the two exclaimed. “I know that look. That look means bad news and nothing good ever follows bad news”

This statement was met with a dry chuckle. “Isn’t that kind of the point of bad news?”

“Maybe;” He replied. “Still doesn’t make it any better. But you tell me, you’re the one bringing the news after all.”

“Don’t shot the messenger though. That would help none of us.”

While they bantered, they had entered the lab and spread out a bit. Ned sitting down on an almost empty table; Peter walking around, pulling up holograms manually and occasionally putting away some scrap parts or tools.

“You know I couldn’t shoot you even if I wanted to. You psychic!” his best friend taunted

His answer was a theatrical gasp paired with the super teen laying a hand over his chest in the way his mentor always did. Bringing a grin to the other boy’s face.

“Enough joking around.” He announced, getting back to serious. “Whatever it is, Stark junior. I can take it.”

Clearly, he tried to keep the mood as light-hearted as he could, which didn’t go unappreciated.

Still. Peter couldn’t help his tone becoming a little sombre.

“I met someone yesterday.” He said “On patrol.”

He had settled down a little bit; leaning back onto a table, which automatically changed its hight to fit his needs. His Hands fidgeted with the hem of his science pun t-shirt.

Patiently; his friend waited.

“It was.. It wasn’t DareDevil. Instead... I met Loki.”

Only now did he take his eyes from the floor to look at his friend.

Quite clearly, he was in shock. Staring at the other, trying to figure out what to think about this revelation.

“Before you freak out: It was only an illusion, he is still in the dungeons of Asgard.” The super-teen tried to calm his friend down. Cringing at the thought of Loki’s location.

“oh. Yeah… That’s good right? He won’t come back?”

His concern was understandable for Peter. But he was also convinced, that the god meant no harm and was truly in need of help.

In that regard, was the sentiment of his friend not the most promising. Though he knew him well and was convinced that Ned would be on his side once he knew what they did to the god.

“That’s the thing.. It isn’t.”

A quizzical look from Ned.

“He sent his projection here to ask for help, which in itself speaks volume considering ho prideful he seemed to be; but that’s not the point. In Asgard, they treat him bad! Like   I whip your back bloody and sew your mouth shut bad.”

He gave his friend a few seconds to process the new information; all the while staring him in the eyes to make sure he knew that this wasn’t a crude prank or something.

“We need to help him..”

“Wait what now!?” Ned squeaked. “They did WHAT!??!”

“Exactly.” The hero answered. “He needs our help, Ned. We can so it’s our responsibility. The plan so far is that he contacts his mother and she brings him here to earth; Our only job is to find a place where he can stay…

That’s why I needed to talk to you because this has to be thought out and I need your second opinion.”

Peter waited for his friend’s response.

After a few seconds of silence his friend looked up.

“Okay… what’s your idea?”

It took a great load off his mind to know he wasn’t alone with his opinion. If Ned was agreeing this easily it meant that he at least wasn’t completely delusional in his opinion on helping the trickster out.

“You remember that storage room slash hideout thingy at the exit to the lake? If I were to hide the entrance to the bunker behind a closet, nobody would find it; Even if we show them the entrance or have to get something from there.”

Originally, they had planned to build in there a kind of vacation home. Until they realised that the compound itself was more than enough novelty, a vacation spot was not needed.

Instead, they had made it into a small bunker in case the compound was taken over and they needed a spot to regroup while waiting on evacuation.

“Wait. Just so we’re on the same page. You really try to keep this a secret from Stark?” the shorter tried to clarify.

“He would never believe Loki. We can’t tell anyone before he hasn’t completely healed. Then we will decide how to break it to the others” The brunette got a nod in response.

“The only problem is to figure out where I will get some additional furniture from.” He added.

“And how to get his food to him.” Ned commented.

They spend some time trying to figure everything out, until they settled on ordering everything they already had and could use for Loki’s room to be brought to the compound a second time

To the millionaire, they send a message, explaining that they had managed to break one of the desks while messing around and used the occasion to reorder some stuff which had either the wrong measurements or they had forgotten to order them in the first place.

Tony replied within a few minutes saying it was no problem.

That problem out of the way, Peter began to bring the selected stuff to the hidden room, while his friend began to build a small service robot, capable of navigating THE WIRES and transporting things.

Not even two hours later, the room was done and they both turned to developing some protocols for Manuel, making sure he would be able to keep the secret.

Unfortunately, Ned had to go before they were able to finish the AI.

His mother needed him to babysit his sister but they would meet again the next day and probably be ready to install Manuel at the end of the day.

*A character from the comics. If you don’t know him, you’ll see. Don’t want to spoil a potential surprise for you.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 - chapter 4 

[sol1056]

hey! i noticed that you’ve written a lot about how voltron fails as a mecha series, and it got me curious about what a GOOD mecha series looks like. do you have any recs for someone whose only experience with the genre, quite literally, is voltron?

note: that is NOT where I wanted the cut. who knows what the devs are doing over there at tumblr hq.

-----

Welp, there’s more than one kind of mecha. There’s super robots -- where (in general) the robots are ultra-powered and relatively indestructible. Then there’s real robots, which will break down and/or run out of ammunition at the most dramatically critical moments. And then there’s a category that at best might be nearly-sentient robots, which have minds and motivations of their own -- but I wouldn’t say that’s a true category (in terms of the genre) so much as a distinction I've noted.

I’ve never been big into the super robot series (with a few exceptions), and I mostly find the combining robot genre to be frustrating. Former mechanic and engineer who currently works with AI, so a lot of the hand-wavey aspects are frustrating for me, especially in super robots where things mysteriously repair themselves and there’s never a struggle to upgrade/repair. (And don’t even get me started on the idea of controlling a bipedal reactive machine with only two foot pedals and a damn joystick.)

Which is all to say, I suppose I should recommend that you watch the classics, except I’m not really sure what they are because I’ve forgotten most of them. And frankly a lot of them are really shoddy animation by today’s standards, and life is too short to waste time on that. I’ll need to refer you along to other mecha fans to add their recommendations, instead.

Well, I can at least recommend Gundam and Macross, but that’s kind of like saying I recommend Doc Martens and Aididas -- that barely narrows it down, since there’s so many options within each brand. Everyone’s got their favorites in each, as do I, but any mecha series that’s stayed with me is one that found a way to either twist the core trope, or explored implications that other series glossed over.

Note: I’ve never seen any version of Eva, and never felt the urge to, either. Sorry. Ask someone else for input on that. Plus there’s also ones I’ll leave off here ‘cause they’re veering over into AI/robots/tech and less what would usually be called mecha, but they’re still worthwhile: Battle Fairy Yukikaze, Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, Broken Blade, Last Exile, and Voices of a Distant Star all come to mind.

Gundam

For me, I adore the technical geeky touches in Gundam F91, but the story is total spaghetti, so you might want to skip that until you’re more familiar with the gundam tropes. (It was meant to be a series, iirc, got shut down, and they took the pieces and made a movie from it, so it’s... kind of compressed, to put it mildly). 

Gundam Wing and Gundam 00 are considerably less geeky on the technical (though they do satisfy the mechanic itch, with a bit more real robot, at least on the technicalities). I like the international core cast, and the way each series explores geopolitical dynamics. (That said, skip the second season of Gundam 00. It just goes totally off the rails into some really wild and wacky directions.)

A long-running concept like Gundam is recognizable across the series thanks to core concepts, and in Gundam’s case it’s the conflicts between imperialism and colonialism, war versus justified rebellion, and pacifism versus a first-strike as self-defense. What I liked with Wing and 00, in particular, was its central pilots felt more tied to (and aware of) the political ramifications of their actions.

I did watch about half of Iron-Blooded Orphans, which struck out in a new direction by having Mars as the colony instead of the lagrange points, but didn’t bother finishing. From what I hear, watch it with a box of tissues, as it’s a return to the classic kill-em-all perspective of the original Gundam series.

Macross

I’m sure someone else will tell you to watch the original Macross (the american version being Robotech, albeit highly edited). I know lots of people adore the first Macross series, but it’s just too late-80s for me. (The hair, my god, the hair.)

Personally, I prefer Macross Frontier -- the amination is much improved, though the fact is I also adore the voices of Yuuichi Nakamura and Aya Endō. Macross has some politics, but it’s mostly internal -- that is, the opponents aren’t human, so whatever debate there is about who’s right or wrong is mostly one-sided, since we only ever see humans doing the talking.

I tried to watch Macross Delta but it just didn’t do it for me -- and therein lies some of the issues (for me) with both Gundam and Macross. Because both have some core elements that they tackle in every series, it can start to feel a bit repetitive.

For Macross it’s always music, Valkyries (the mecha type for Macross), and a love triangle -- which sometimes isn’t even resolved. (I’ve read all kinds of debates about whether Alto ends up with Sheryl or with Ranka, but the series leaves it open.)

A good writer can explore these themes over and over, but between the two, I personally think Gundam has done a bit better of pivoting to take a new angle with each series. But at the same time, Gundam is pretty consistent about not building on a previous series -- with a few notable exceptions, most of its series are alternate-universe stories to each other. In Macross, they’re all continuations of the previous -- so if you’re not into its setup about aliens and weird diseases and whatnot, you’re only going to get more of the same in the next series.

Everything else

So here’s the series I like, but I’m not sure all of these would be counted as ‘true’ mecha by other fans (a debate I mostly ignore, so I’ll leave it to others to argue about that).

Escaflowne -- one of the rare breed of fantasy-styled mecha (Broken Blade being another one that comes to mind). The animation is strongly 80s, but the voice acting is superb, the story (originally meant to be longer, then budget cuts forced a much longer story to squeeze into half the episodes it really deserved).

[It’s also a series I’d call a harbinger, similar to tripping over little-known movies from twenty years ago and realizing every single actor including walk-on parts went on to be massive names. Escaflowne’s got that, but that also extends to its animation team, its director, its composer, on and on. All of them went onto work on some of the greatest hits of anime. That makes Escaflowne immensely (if quietly and somewhat subtly) influential, both for the genre and animation overall.]

Eureka Seven -- another not-on-Earth story. At first the mecha movement -- almost like surfing in the sky -- was odd, but they took some interesting physics concepts and made them not just worldbuilding, but integral parts of the story. Okay, I’m not keen on how the female lead gets successively down-graded as the hero ramps up, but there are some emotional implications of Massive Destructive Machines where Eureka Seven lingers that a lot of other series gloss over.

Fafner in the Azure -- another aliens-against-humans, but first off, I’m gonna say it: you either love Hisashi Hirai‘s character designs or you want to torch them with total prejudice. If you can get past that, Fafner is brutal to its characters well beyond most other series, excepting the earliest Gundams. Although (of course) the pilots are all kids, there are in-story reasons, and there are still adults running the show. And there are consequences, small and large.

Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion -- because what would life be if we didn’t have at least one mecha series with character designs from CLAMP. (Which, admittedly, I loathe, but somehow it worked here.) Can’t speak for the second season, but the first season played up something a lot of mecha bypass for just plain banging on each other, which is strategy. It caught me at the time, at least.

Full Metal Panic -- watch this after watching Gundam Wing and/or Gundam 00, to get the tropes they’re playing on with Sousuke Sagara (the ostensible protagonist who just cannot seem to relate to real human beings). I saw one description of him as “about as well-adjusted as a feral child” and that kinda fits. It’s more real robots, and of course parts require some hardcore suspension of disbelief (the commanding officer who looks 14, sounds like she’s 12, and has boobs that never occur in nature on a frame that teeny). But all told, a lot of fun and plenty of explosions.

RahXephon -- this is another oddball one, because the mecha aren’t mecha, they’re golems (as in, creatures made from clay). For all that, there’s a lot of significant mecha influence and tropes at work. It’s held up pretty well, animation-wise, considering its age (from 2002). and while it’s the same ‘strange aliens attack earth’ plotline, it spins all that off in a completely different direction.

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann (aka Gurren Lagann) -- don’t watch this one until you’ve seen plenty of others, though, because it’s a fondly affectionate send-up of nearly every possible trope from combining to super to real robots. Cranked up to eleven.

Knights of Sidonia -- of all the ones on this list, KoS is possibly my most favorite. It was an early all-CGI series, and a lot of people were turned off by that, but once you get used to it, the story can carry you along. Like Macross Frontier, it takes place in deep space, where a colony of humans fight for survival with an incomprehensible (and nearly unstoppable) alien foe. But KoS is true science fiction, with a lot of solid science driving its dramatic points. Also--unlike most of the others series--although the characters are technically human, they’ve also evolved as a result of their time in space. For one, they have three genders, for another, they don’t eat; they photosynthesize.

[hopewritcs]

thought it was a fanboy.

pairing: steve rogers x reader ( soulmate au )

word count: 2.4k

summary: soulmates are noted by a tattoo, a symbol of something that means a great deal to the other person.  y/n is born with captain america’s shield on her arm.  of course, she’s born into a world that believes the famed captain is long dead, so she naturally assumes it’s a fanboy, or someone who studies the war and captain america.  never does she expect it to actually be captain america.

notes: okay so this fic kind of goes from pre iron man 1 to post avengers 1 then follows it’s own timeline, there’s a bit of skips just to make sure the timeline felt right.  i must admit it’s been a bit since i’ve watched the original avengers so the set up probably isn’t exactly how it is in the movie.  so it’s kind of an au ? i suppose. 

part one | part two

marvel tag list: n/a ( if you want to be added to any tag list, let me know !! ) 

The existence of soulmates was explained to you at the age of five years old.  

Soulmates, your mother had explained, were the universe’s true pairings.  Each soul was designated with a tattoo somewhere on their body of something important, significant, to their soulmate.  It would be a way to identify them when the time came.  Of course, you’d asked how you’d know for certain if you couldn’t see the tattoo right away.  Your mother replied that while in some cases the soul just knows when their soulmate is right in front of them, it’s more often the slight itching sensation around your tattoo that doesn’t go away until you recognize your soulmate for who they are.  

This was because you were old enough to take notice of the mark right above your right elbow.  It was small too, and depending on how you looked at it you wouldn’t see the whole thing.  But it didn’t take your parents long enough to realize what the soulmate mark was.  

Captain America’s shield.  

Of course, your parents freaked out when they realized this.  Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, had been dead for decades by the time you were born.  

But the universe didn’t make mistakes, did it?  

It was a topic of conversation that you had for years in your own home.  You’d kept the tattoo covered with make up or clothes when you could help it--most people would ask about it.  And there were just too many questions that you didn’t have the answers to, or that you didn’t want to answer.  

You were around fifteen when your parents asked what you thought.  They were definitely on the path thinking that the universe claimed you as Captain America’s soulmate.  It gave them a sense of hope.  You, however, explained that since Steve Rogers was long dead he couldn’t be your soulmate--“the universe isn’t that cruel”--and that it was probably just someone who was involved with the Captain America legend.  You thought maybe it was a historian who studied Captain America, or even someone who created the Captain America action figures you saw in stores.  

You’d be happy with whomever it wound up being, because the universe had found you someone.  And you trusted in that system, even if you didn’t completely understand it.  

By the time you graduated college you were working full time at Stark Industries in the PR department.  You were, for the most part, a glorified intern with a little paycheck each week.  You ran and got coffee, made sure everyone in the department had what they needed, and did proofreading.  Sometimes you got to write assigned press releases.  

It was Pepper Potts, still assistant to Tony Stark at the time, who first noticed your work.  You were dedicated and focused, barely even flinching when one of the other workers spilled coffee all over the front of your ensemble.  You’d simply swatted at the stain with a paper towel on your desk before retrieving a spare outfit from the shared cabinet between yourself and two other cubicles before going to the restroom.  

Two weeks later you were working under Miss Potts directly as a secondary assistant to Mr. Stark.  While Pepper was running around and making sure the company stayed afloat with Tony’s school boy ways, you were right by her side.  

When the base of operations moved to New York City from California, and Pepper was effectively CEO of Stark Industries, you were set up with an apartment on the living area of Stark Tower and promoted to Pepper’s full time assistant, with a significant bump in salary than you’d ever thought possible.  

You’d been getting ready for the morning meeting ( something you always did the night before, so if anything changed you had everything in order to adjust ), making sure to get the notes down and all the meetings in order when Pepper walked in with Tony following behind her.  Neither of them noticed you.  

“I’m not meeting with Captain America, Pep.”  Tony’s voice was low, but your head turned in his direction at the mention of Captain America.  

Over the past years you’d been living in such a Stark bubble making sure everything was running smoothly and that people were doing their assigned jobs and not gossiping, that you’d lost touch with the news of the world.  Except in the case of Iron Man, you’d set up a secondary alert for any mention of Iron Man ( like you had for Mr. Stark himself ) so that you would be on top of any press for either entity of Tony.  

“It’s Captain America, Tony!  He’s alive and out of his time and they’re all asking for you to do your part.”  Pepper exclaimed back, dropping her hands to her sides and looking at Tony.  “Don’t tell me this is--”

“I’m a grown man who can make my own choices and I’m choosing not to join in on this crusade.  Captain America can do this on his own.”  

“Captain America’s alive?”  your voice was much louder than you’d expected, and you figured your heart rate had skyrocketed as you’d listened to their conversation.  Your right arm was itching, and you shook the arm and tugged at the sleeves of the blazer you were wearing.  

Both parties in front of you seemed startled to find you at your desk still.  It was well past midnight, and normally you’d gone to your apartment by now.  But you’d had a late lunch meeting with some of the security team to talk about one of the upcoming trips for business which had put you behind.    

Neither knew about your soulmate.  You’d never felt the need to explain as it never pertained to your job description.  No one needed to know about the tattoo on your arm.  

Pepper spoke first, turning to look at you with a glint of worry passing in her eyes, “Y/N you’re still working?”  she was ignoring the question.  

“Have you been ignoring the news lately?”  Tony commented, coming over to your desk and looking over your shoulder at what you were working on.  

You turned to look at him, “Sorry Mr. Stark,” he raised his eyebrows at you and you shrugged.  While you may have been friendly with both Pepper and Tony, you were still technically on the clock and weren’t going to call either of them informally.  “I’m paid to pay attention to news about you, or Iron Man, or Stark Industries.  That doesn’t leave a lot of free time for browsing the internet.”  

Tony smirked, pushing your chair aside and pulling up a browser window and searching Captain America.  “Knock yourself out.”  And then he took a couple of steps back and went to Pepper’s side.  

They were talking quietly, but you were reading the news articles on the screen.  Captain America Found Alive.  Who is Captain America?  Do We Need Captain America in Today’s World?  Man Out of Time! Differences Between the Captain’s America and Ours.  10 Reasons to Love Captain America.  You even found a youtube video clip of Captain America stuck in the middle of Times Square.  

Your heart was pounding loudly, echoing in your ears.  

All those years talking about soulmates, you’d never thought it could actually be Captain America.  And to be fair, you were still sure it wasn’t.  He was a man out of time as the one article said.  There was no way that the universe had given him to you as a soulmate because there was no way to know that he would be around in your time.  You pushed away from your desk, your work forgotten as you brushed past where Tony and Pepper still stood talking softly to each other--more sweetly than angry whispering as they had at the beginning--and you made your way to the elevator bank to go down to your residential floor.  

You ignored the sounds of Tony’s AI speaking as you took the elevator downwards, though you did turn your head up ( to somewhere you figured the AI was, as if it were a physical entity ) with an apologetic look and shrug.  You didn’t want to talk to anyone right then.

You’d been in the tower during the Battle of New York, despite several warnings from multiple agents to get out and go somewhere safer before everything happened.  You were too busy working, and you’d been told that Stark Tower was probably one of the safest places in the world.  Even during an alien attack with a temperamental God running amuck, you were sure that you’d be safe.  

You’d been working from your own quarters anyway, and you did barricade yourself in the bathroom since it was the farthest place away from the door to your apartment and there were no windows in the room.  You used your tablet, keeping an eye on everything and were in touch with Pepper the whole time.  She too scolded you for staying where you were and not leaving the city, but you knew she was just concerned for you.  She was your friend, after all.  

After the night where you’d overheard the news of Captain America being alive, Pepper had brought you into her office one night and asked you if you were alright.  It was there that you’d shown her your soulmate tattoo.  

“I don’t know if it’s him or maybe all those things my parents said when I was a kid are just getting in my head now, but I don’t know Pepper.  It’s like...I feel like I know I’ll be meeting my soulmate soon and suddenly I find out Captain America’s alive after all these years?”  You’d sworn her to secrecy too, since you weren’t exactly sure if he was your soulmate.  

It was a couple of weeks later before you came face to face with Captain America.  You were half asleep, having just got back with Pepper from California and immediately going to work while she’d gone to find Tony and “talk business”.  You were sitting at your desk with the largest cup of your favorite coffee in front of you when a throat cleared and you didn’t look up from your keyboard too focused to make sure you’d gotten all your handwritten notes typed up.  

The throat cleared again and you sighed, “Miss. Potts doesn’t have any meetings scheduled until after ten this morning.  You’ll need to come back then when she’s in the office.” 

“Actually, ma’am, I’m looking for Tony.”  

You’d heard his voice before in news reels you’d seen recently, but something about hearing it taped and hearing it in person was different.  You turned your head to look at him, your hands pausing in their motions.  “Sorry Captain, I didn’t know it was you.  Uh, Mr. Stark is probably with Miss Potts right now, we just got back after a week in California.”  

The blond looked stiff, not at all relaxed as someone should be when they were not fighting a battle.  He looked ready for just about anything as he stood in front of your desk.  A curt nod, “I can wait, if that’s alright ma’am.”  

You nodded at him and gestured to one of the couches in the office lobby around where your desk was placed.  You watched him settle down, picking up one of the books you’d spread out there in case anyone wanted to do something while waiting for their meeting that wasn’t reading one of the other gossip magazines you’d set out too.  Once you were satisfied he was settled in, you went back to your work.  “It’s Y/N.”  

“Excuse me?”

You weren’t even looking in his direction, still keeping your glance on the notebook as you typed the corresponding notes into their correct files. “My name.  Please call me Y/N, not ma’am.  I know it’s not an age thing, but it’s politeness. It just... it makes me feel like I’m my mother’s age.”  You were smiling, a soft laugh passing your lips as you typed.  

He was quiet for a moment before he replied, “Steve.”  

Your typing paused as you allowed yourself to glance in his direction.  “Huh?”  

“If I’m going to call you by your first name, I’d appreciate it if you called me by mine.”  

“Alright Steve.”

It was a whole week later before you realized that Captain America had moved into Stark Tower.  You’d run into him on the residential floor, literally.  

You were coming out of the elevator and he was going in.  It was late, and you were half asleep.  The only reason you were heading to your apartment was because Pepper had ordered you to do so, saying it looked like you hadn’t slept.  She wasn’t wrong, so instead of arguing with her you’d packed up for the night and went downstairs.  

You hadn’t expected there to be anyone standing right at the elevator when you walked out, and you were met with a surprised grunt as you collided with what felt like a wall of muscle.  You looked up and gasped.  “Shit, I didn’t see you there.  Apologies, Steve.”  You yawned and took a step back and to the side to let him pass.  But he didn’t move.  

“Are you alright, Y/N?”  He was looking at you with a concerned set of blue eyes and you thought your heart downright stopped in your chest.  

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.  I’m just tired, I swear.”  You said, running a hand over your face as you suppressed another yawn.  “This job is kind of a ‘round the clock gig.  I don’t sleep much, I think I’ve started to worry Pepper.”  You chuckle at the comment, but you see his eyebrows raise at the comment.  You put your hand on his arm and offer him a smile, “I’m going to bed now.  There’s no need to worry.”  

After a couple of moments of just looking at each other, Steve seemed satisfied and took a step into the elevator, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night Steve.”  You were about to turn to keep walking when you caught sight of his arm.  

In the same spot your tattoo laid, on his right arm just above the elbow, was his own soulmate mark.  A small replica of the tattered, used, notebook your parents had given you as a gift before you left for college.  It was what you’d used all these years whenever you had any ideas, kept hidden and tucked away always in your purse.

The elevator doors closed, leaving you standing around the apartments with a shocked look.  

Steve Rogers ( actual freaking Captain America ) was your soulmate.  

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

The Nightblood Project

Clexa / Supercorp AU where Lexa is the genetically engineered product of one of Lex Luthor’s experiments

"Miss Griffin, I’m afraid you---”

Maybe I’m just a kid to you. I mean, I’m just some dumb teenager, and Jesus, you’re Lena freaking Luthor, but.... do you know what it’s like when you’ve spent your life seeing only in black and white? Not bad, not unhappy, just black and white, not knowing any different -- and then suddenly... suddenly someone extraordinary comes along and opens your eyes. And it’s like an explosion of color -- colors you never even knew existed -- and it’s intense and overwhelming. There’s so much of it and it hurts, but it’s -- it’s beautiful. God, it’s so fucking beautiful, every color takes your breath away, and you wouldn’t go back to black and white, even if you could..... That’s her. That’s Lexa. So yeah, I’ll keep coming back until you let me see her. Because that’s who she is for me.”

Yeah, I wrote and made this moodboard at 3am and I haven’t had any sleep. Also disclaimer, I know nothing about cloning, genetic manipulation or the American foster care system. And here we go:

In this AU, Lex Luthor made some experiments to make meta humans when he was in his early 20s (maybe around 24 or so, and his baby sister Lena was 10)

He was experimenting with cloning and genetic manipulation, and he was eventually successful, producing the first cloned human, a baby girl he named Lexa.

One of the things that he was also working on was encoding his newly developed anti-alien AI (A.L.I.E) into the human genome.

After Lexa was created, Lex wanted to perform further invasive experiments on her. 

However, one of his chief scientists, Becca Pramheda, whose misgivings about the study had been previously rejected, felt it was unethical to do that to an infant, and refused

Becca took Lexa and ran away to hide the baby from Lex. In my hc, he somehow caught up to her and killed her.

But before she died, she managed to leave Lexa in a hospital. She enters the foster care system and Lex doesn't find her.

When Lex is finally sent to prison for his crimes,  Lena inherits all of his work (this would be around 2 years before the show)

Lena finds classified redacted documents detailing the experiment, called the Nightblood Project (so named because Lexa’s blood came out black as a side effect of the genetic manipulation). The documents are incomplete because Becca took some of the info with her during their escape, but Lena discovers a picture of baby Lexa and becomes determined to find her.

Lena finds her across the country in National City after an exhaustive year long search. Lexa is 15 at this time, and currently living in a group home.

Lexa has spent most of her life moving from one foster home to another, but the home she’s in now is one of the most stable she’s had. It’s run by a giant of a man named Gustus Paunovic, who is as soft-hearted as he is tough.

There are seven other kids in the group home, and Lexa is the eldest. Anya, the big sister who was the eldest, aged out of the system a few years ago and left. Lexa looks after each and every single one of the younger kids. Protects them, makes sure that none of them get into trouble, holds the little ones after a nightmare.

Lena makes contact with her, and it’s hard at first, because Lexa is distrustful and not inclined to believe anything a Luthor says, especially since Lex Luthor’s arrest made national news.

Eventually, Lena manages to convince her, using a story that they’re related (which isn’t really a lie, considering Lexa shares Lex’s DNA, if genetically manipulated). 

But Lexa refuses to go with Lena to Metropolis and leave her family (”They’re my people. They need me.”).

The social worker, a sharp, no-nonsense woman who’d introduced herself as Indra Porter, looks at Lena with something close to sympathy in her eyes. “I am truly sorry, Miss Luthor. I know you mean well, I can see that, but I cannot, in good conscience, place one of my charges in the custody of --”

“Of a Luthor.” Lena finishes, with a well-concealed note of bitterness in her tone. The look Ms. Porter gives her says that she heard it anyway.

“Yes.” The other woman’s voice is firm, but not unkind. “You know -- better than I do, I’m sure -- the notoriety that has attached itself to your last name, especially with your brother’s recent trials, and I don’t believe that it would be in Lexa’s best interest to be attached to it at this point in her life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re right.” Lena nods, thinking of the past year living under the shadow of Lex’s trials, and her own childhood blighted by the Luthor name. “Lexa’s well-being should come first.”

(I might throw in Costia there too somewhere)

Anyway, Lena concedes, and goes back to Metropolis, but Lexa agrees to visit her there.

I kinda just really want to give both of them someone they can slowly open up to so they can begin to trust family again, cause they’ve both been screwed over by “family”

At some point, Lena tells Lexa the truth. Imagine angsty little baby Lexa when she finds out she's "not human " but a "science project" of Lex's. (TW: implied self-harm)

There’s never really been anything unusual about Lexa, and it’s easy to slip between the cracks when you’re a foster kid. She’s ordinary. Normal.

But she remembers that one time -- that one foster kid she’d been living with when she was 9 -- Quint, who loved to bully the younger kids. He’d been taunting Costia because of her wild curly hair -- curlier even than Lexa’s, and flying all over the place in a corkscrew cloud that Lexa loved -- and Lexa had shouted at him to leave her alone! Quint had pushed her to the ground and she’d skinned her knee. 

It had bled, and Costia had screamed because her blood looked black and she had sounded so scared, that Lexa had forgotten about her black blood and instead reared up and tackled Quint to the ground, walloping him across the nose with her hardbound copy of Les Misérables from the library, and it had been Quint who bled then, not her.

Now, Lexa wonders if she’ll bleed black just like she did then. The only thought that permeates the numb haze in her mind as the sharp edge of the knife blade glides across her skin is that there’s only one way to find out.

Lena helps her through the crisis that follows when she discovers the truth (cos it’s not like she can just put her in therapy, considering the nature of her secret, and it’s not like Lena’s favorite repressive coping mechanism of “little boxes” is gonna help). I just want Lena to give Lexa the acceptance and the reassurance that she would need to face who and what she is

It’s not okay, not really, because how could it be, when everything she knew about herself has been turned on its head? But life goes on. It has to. And Lexa has always been a survivor.

Lexa only shares the truth with Anya (maybe Gustus and Indra). Lena makes herself available to answer all of Lexa’s questions, but the one thing she refuses to do is to perform further tests and experiments on Lexa (”Becca died trying to stop Lex from experimenting on you. The least I can do is honor that. I won’t be like my brother.”)

Just to be clear, in my AU, Lena isn’t averse to human trials and experiments (see Adam), but Lexa is different. A) she’s only 16, she’s underage and B) In a short amount of time, Lexa has become family. More family than Lillian, or even Lex.

Eventually, Lexa becomes a staple at Luthor Corp whenever she’s in Metropolis. And it's not a big deal for her to come striding into Lena's office, still in her school clothes. Sometimes she'll just lounge around in Lena's office, earbuds in, doing her homework, while Lena works at her desk.

Sometimes, Lena will be walking around Luthor Corp and Lexa will be walking beside her, quietly observing and learning

Lexa has an aptitude for science, but it's the day to day management of the conglomerate she's more interested in (”You’re a leader, Lexa. One look at you, and anyone can tell. People want to follow you.”) 

Eventually, it’s Lexa who convinces Lena to move to National City. Not only because that’s where she lives, but also because she’s seen the bad blood between the people of Metropolis and the Luthor name 

(’’There’s nothing for you here, Lena. Take it from someone who knows. I always used to hate moving homes. I hated change, I just wanted to find a place where I could stay forever and never have to leave. But I learned that sometimes, when 'home’ has become a bad place, that change is a necessity, if you want to survive. You can’t survive here in Metropolis, Lena. Lex is like a knife at your back, and being in this place just twists it in even further.”)

So a year later, Lena moves to National City and rebrands the company to L-Corp.

Lexa’s around 17 at this time, and Lena puts her (and all her foster siblings) in a good school and tries to give her as many opportunities as she herself got as a Luthor (without the emotional abuse she got from Lillian).

It’s at Arkadia Prep that she meets Clarke.

In the beginning, she sees Clarke as this spoiled little rich girl, the popular “Princess”, and Clarke sees her as competition, because from the start, Lexa proves herself to be exceptional. She may not have had the background that the Arkadia kids have, but she’s a voracious reader and a quick study, and she has street smarts they don’t.

A few months into term, and Lexa is already climbing to the top of the academic ladder -- narrowly unseating Clarke’s position at the top of the class, much to the other girl’s annoyance. It marks the beginning of a fierce competition -- Lexa beats Clarke at debate, Clarke beats her marks in Biology, Lexa kicks her ass at PE, Clarke beats her out as the lead of the school play. 

It’s something almost... enjoyable, Lexa thinks. She’s used to working twice as hard as everyone else -- it makes her better, smarter, stronger, quicker -- and Clarke likes a challenge, she can tell.

And it turns out they work even better together. They find this out when they’re forced to work together in a debate against another school in a televised event. They have fun absolutely decimating their rivals, and wiping the smirks off of Cage Wallace and Diana Syndney’s smug faces.

They begin to talk more. Clarke tells Lexa about her dad, who died in a car crash two years before. Lexa tells Clarke things about herself in increments: first she talks about the kids in the group home, then about Gustus and Anya, then about Costia, then about Lena.

Of course, Lexa doesn’t tell Clarke everything. Some things can’t be spoken of, not even to this girl who is fast becoming her friend. She never mentions Lex. Or her black blood.

Clarke introduces Lexa to her friends: Wells, Raven, Octavia, Bellamy, Monty and Jasper. They like her immediately, especially since Lexa is one of the few people who can shut Clarke up.

Pretty soon, Clarke and Lexa are best friends. Raven and Octavia would be jealous about this if it weren’t completely obvious how much Clarke and Lexa are beginning to enjoy each other’s company. 

Around Lexa, Clarke is calmer, less loud and harsh, more centered. And around Clarke, Lexa is warmer, the edges of her mouth softer and more prone to smiling.

Lexa’s first move to officially welcome Lena to National City is to introduce her to Clarke. She’s heard that Lena was practically accosted by those reporters after the Venture incident, and invites her to coffee with them (as if it were a random outing and not something Lexa’s been nervous about for months). 

Lena explains that it’s fine, the reporters were polite and mild-mannered, and one of them was quite cute. Lena doesn’t say that it was Kara Danvers who caught her eye, and not the famous Clark Kent.

Lena just sits back and sips her coffee -- watching the Clarke and Lexa talk quietly together, shoulders brushing, exchanging soft smiles over their coffee cups -- and she thinks she’s never seen Lexa this loose, this happy.

At some point, during one of Kara’s increasingly regular visits to Lena, she finds Lexa sitting on Lena’s couch (on Kara’s spot, the blonde thinks before quickly shaking her head), reading a hefty chemistry book while listening to music, occasionally asking Lena for help with a particularly complicated problem.

She first introduces Lexa to Kara as the daughter of a friend, just as she introduces her to everyone else, but Kara notices that there are too many similarities between them for them not to be related.

Not so much in appearance, though they both have the trademark Luthor green eyes, but in personality (both introverted but highly capable leaders, the keen intellect, the kill you with an eyebrow raise vibe)

Lexa likes Kara, and though she doesn’t know her that well, she knows Lena well enough by now to know that Lena is smitten.

“She called you Lee.”

“What?” Lena asks absentmindedly, her eyes still on Kara as she walks out of her office. Lexa smirks.

“You hate being called Lee. You threatened to disown me if I ever called you Lee. But you let Kara call you Lee.” Lexa repeats the name several times just because she knows it will irk Lena. “You’re such a useless lesbian.”

Lena throws her a glare through narrowed eyes. “And you hate being called Lex. As a matter of fact, Anya told me the last person who called you Lex ended up with a black eye.”

“Your point being?”

“Last week I heard Clarke say ‘Bye, Lex’ over the phone before you hung up. I’m just saying, I’m not the only useless lesbian in this family.”

“Fair enough.” Lexa retreats behind her calculus textbook, but not before Lena sees the happy little smile that can’t help but stretch over the younger girl’s face -- whether it’s at the mention of Clarke, or the word “family”, Lena will never know.

But it doesn’t matter. She’s just glad it’s there.

Eventually Lena has to tell Supergirl the truth about Lexa (I’m still undecided whether or not Lena knows that Kara is Supergirl at this point), and it causes a rift between the two of them.

Yeah, instead of a Kryptonite rift, I made Lexa the cause of the rift between Kara and Lena. Because the moment she finds out about Lexa’s true nature, the dynamic between Kara and Lexa (which had previously been friendly enough, now becomes visibly strained).

Kara becomes suspicious of Lexa. In the back of her mind, she’s like yeah she seems like a great kid, and it seems preposterous that she could hurt anyone, at this point there doesn't seem to be anything unusual about Lexa aside from her black blood

But the little voice in the back of Kara’s head pipes up ‘who's to say Lex didn't implant something in her?’ He’d already genetically engineered her, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to suspect that it was for nefarious purposes.

Kara, as Supergirl, becomes frustrated because Lena won’t even consider the possibility of running tests on Lexa.

After one particular argument between the two of them, where Kara had suggested testing for Lexa, just to make sure that she doesn't have any genetic mutations (and she's not gonna Lex out all over the place), Lena is fuming and ranting about Supergirl. 

Lexa manages to persuade her to watch movies with her while eating ice cream in bed

Lexa broaches this topic carefully over spoonfuls of Lena’s favorite coffee ice cream. "You're a scientist, Lena. Aren't you curious?"

Lena scoffs, attacking the pint with a spoon, imagining that the ice cream is Supergirl’s eyes she’s trying to gouge out. Gone is the deadly calmness she’d displayed in front of the super during their argument. Now she’s all petty spite.

"Of course i'm curious, Lexa. But I won't  let my scientific curiosity overtake my love for you.” She huffs, still seething. “This is the exact reason why Becca took you away, why she died trying to keep you from Lex. You are a person, Lexa. Not some science project. You don't deserve to be studied like a lab rat."

Lexa goes quiet for a long time. When Lena looks at her again, she finds the younger girl staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

"You love me?"

And just like that, the spite is gone, and all Lena feels is a lump in her throat.

This might be the first time Lexa ever heard someone say that to her, and the first time Lena ever said that to anyone and truly meant it.

Her face softens and she reaches out to tug softly, affectionately, on a lock of Lexa’s hair. "Of course I love you, Lexa. You're family -- probably the only real family I've had.... I love you, okay?"

Lexa seems too overcome with emotion to meet her eye, and Lena can understand that. She feels quite overwhelmed as well, but it’s a warm, lovely feeling she keeps close to her heart, not one she wants to store in a box.

So she lets Lexa look away and fiddle with her ice cream spoon. But she can hear the happiness in Lexa’s whispered "Okay."

Lexa does eventually volunteer to get tested at the DEO herself, as a sort of compromise to keep the peace between Lena and Supergirl. Also so Lexa can find out more about herself. She’s still trying to process the truth, but she’s gotten to a point where she’s developed a curiosity about her nature.

It still causes a bit of a rift between Lena and Kara, and Lena only concedes to Lexa's decision if she and an L-Corp lawyer are present during the testing to protect Lexa. 

Anya also accompanies them. At this point, I’m considering bringing Anya into the DEO, I think she’d be a perfect fit as a (somewhat rogue) field agent there.

The rift between Kara and Lena grows. Part of Kara knows she was in the wrong for insisting on experimentation for Lexa, but there’s still a need to know if there’s a threat.

The DEO doesn’t find anything, except for a minor anomaly in one of Lexa’s chromosomes. But it doesn’t seem to have an effect on her, except that it resulted in Lexa’s black blood.

At some point afterward, however, Lex is released from prison, and he discovers that Lena has found Lexa. He sets up a “nice family reunion”, renders Lena unconscious and abducts Lexa.

There’s no fear in Lexa when she first meets Lex, and that seems to please him. He’s sitting in front of a large computer machine the purpose of which eludes Lexa. He tells her about the AI he and Becca Pramheda created, A.L.I.E., and how he implanted it into Lexa’s DNA upon creating her. Becca didn’t know that his purpose for the AI was to use it to rid the world of aliens, and when she found out about it, she had immediately protested it. By that stage, however, it was too late to stop the process, the embryo had been created and Lexa was formed.

By this time, Lena has regained consciousness, and Lexa sees her signaling to keep quiet as she attempts to sneak up behind Lex. Lexa stalls him and gets him to tell her the machine’s purpose -- which is to activate A.L.I.E. remotely. 

As Lex cuts Lexa’s palm and feeds her black blood into the scanner on the machine, Lena hits him over the head and renders him unconscious before he can complete the sequence.

Lena and Lexa escape, just as Supergirl and the DEO arrive to capture Lex again. The DEO take him into custody, but instead of being hysterical, Lex just smiles at his sister and his clone.

Life almost goes back to normal again, but then one day, Lex is observed muttering a phrase in his cell. Once, twice, three times, just to make sure.

“Blood must have blood.”

At the same time, miles away across the city, Lexa drops to the floor in the middle of chemistry class, her nose bleeding.

Clarke is right beside her in seconds, but Lexa regains consciousness almost immediately, and for a half a second, Clarke sees her eyes flash, enveloped almost entirely by black. Then she’s standing up, and leaving the classroom without a word.

Clarke tries to follow her, but the teacher keeps her from leaving. The teacher does try to follow her, and doesn’t return. After a few minutes the class goes to check and finds the teacher passed out on the floor. No one knows where Lexa has gone.

The DEO gets a call about an attack that’s happening on an alien support group happening downtown. It’s a panicked 911 call from a K’Hund, screaming for help and yelling “She’s killing everyone!”

When they get there, almost everyone is dead. No less than ten aliens are lifeless on the floor. The only one left alive is the K’Hund, who lives only long enough to describe their attacker

(I had half a mind to have put Lexa in ALIE’s red dress, but overkill)

Supergirl and Alex get enough of the description to realize who it was. They quickly call Lena and devise a plan to stop and contain Lexa.

They’re too late.

Alex disconnects the call with a heavy feeling in her gut, and turns back to Lena’s office where she sees Kara, in full Supergirl regalia, reach out to touch Lena’s folded arms tentatively, as if unsure how Lena would take it. The other woman is so tense, Alex worries she’ll snap once she gives her the news.

Her gut twists for Lena, who must be sick with worry and anguish and fear and guilt. For her sister, who would never say ‘I told you so’ but ached at being proven right. 

Hell, for Lexa. Because Alex knows Lexa and she knows with wholehearted certainty that Lexa would never do this of her own free will -- not the girl who smiled shyly in response to Eliza’s motherly attention as she drew her blood for testing, not the girl who sat across from Alex at Thanksgiving and teased Kara for being such a dork around Lena, not the girl who spoke about her little brothers and sisters at the group home with such affection and pride.

By now, Kara and Lena notice her appearance. Lena squares her shoulders, and Alex knows she’s preparing for the worst. “Tell me.”

“Thirty-two people this time. She attacked a gathering of Starhavenites downtown...”  Alex informs her, straightforward but with as much gentleness as she can muster. God, forty-two aliens slaughtered by a 17 year old girl. She wishes the same fate could be visited on Lex Luthor, smiling serenely in his cell. “There is some good news: no one recognized her.”  

It is good news in a way, because this needs to be contained as much as possible, not just because of the threat, but because Lexa needs to have something to come back to when this is all over, and she won’t have that if the world knows what she’s done. 

“But... that’s only because she didn’t leave any survivors this time.”

Eventually, they manage to stop Lexa at the source. Lena figures out how to disable to computer that feeds ALIE, but the only problem is, it deactivates the ALIE chromosome inside Lexa, and Lexa’s body shuts down (just go with it, I don’t know what I’m doing).

Lexa falls into a coma, and she’s brought to the DEO. They try to revive her, but to no avail. Lena initially wants to bring her to the L-Corp labs, so she can work on a cure, but Alex tries to gently explain to her that Lexa still needs to be contained. Forty-two people are dead, whether or not Lexa was controlled by ALIE while she was doing it.

Lena complies only very reluctantly, and all but moves into the DEO to try and find a cure for Lexa. Kara helps her as much as she can, using her investigative skills to find out more about Becca Pramheda, while Lena tries to find out how to permanently inactivate the ALIE chromosome.

She leaves Sam and Jess in charge of L-Corp, and only returns there when Jess calls to tell her that a group of young students from Arkadia Prep are outside her office, insisting on seeing Lexa. 

She listens to Jess rattle off names until a voice that Lena recognizes as Clarke’s interjects impatiently “We just want to know if Lexa’s okay. Please!”

Lena returns to her office to confront Lexa’s friends. She tells them that Lexa is safe, but is being treated for a rare medical condition but is unable to receive visitors.

Everyone is convinced and reassured, except for Clarke. She hangs back after everyone has left.

“I saw her blood when she passed out with a nose bleed. It was black. My Mom is a doctor, and she says that's impossible. She says it might be an infection, or a side effect of drugs. Is it.... Oh, God...”

Clarke’s lower lip trembles as a look of utter devastation crosses her face. Her voice is small and barely above a whisper as she asks Lena “Is she dying?”

Lena nearly chokes, and she has no words of comfort that she can offer the young girl. “No.... No, but she’s not doing well.”

Clarke sniffs, tears starting to stream down her face. “I knew it. I knew when I saw her blood was black, that it wasn’t good. Oh, God, she... she can’t die. You can’t let her die.”

“She’s stable for now. As for her blood, I can’t tell you about that. It’s... it’s not my secret to tell.”

Clarke looks up at her, relief plain in her eyes at the knowledge that Lexa wasn’t in immediate danger, and gives a shaky laugh. “I thought -- I thought maybe her blood was black because she’s an alien. My best friend’s an alien. And that didn’t even bother me, that she might not be human. I don’t give a fuck. I just -- I just want her back.”

Lena manages to convince Clarke to go home, but she goes back to L Corp every day after school to ask to see Lexa. Lena knows the DEO is no place for a teenager, so she keeps refusing, until one particular day, Clarke breaks down and asks Lena to give Lexa her debate team jacket (”I just want her to have a piece of me, so she knows that she’s not alone, that I’m thinking about her.”)

Lena acquiesces, and brings the jacket to Lexa. She lays it on the bed beside the unconscious girl. Lena leaves her side for half an hour to have lunch with Kara, one of the few things that give Lena any consolation at this point. When she returns, she finds that Lexa has turned on her side and pulled Clarke’s jacket over shoulders, curling herself inside it. She takes a picture and shows it to Clarke when the girl shows up again at her office the next day.

Eventually, Kara’s journalistic skills pay off and she gets a lead. Becca's father had been a doomsday prepper in his time, and kept an old secret bunker under their family home for years. Kara and Lena find the unredacted files that Becca stole from the experiment inside it.

They discover that Becca had created a second AI, the Flame, and had encoded it into Lexa’s ALIE chromosome to act as a kill switch to safely inactivate it permanently, but she had been killed before she could begin the process.

Lena sets about rebuilding the machine Lex used to activate ALIE. On the day they’re about to use it, she brings Clarke along with her to the DEO, silently daring anyone to stop them (no one does). 

Just before they go into Lexa’s room, Lena stops Clarke.

“You should tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Clarke asks, confused and impatient to go in and see Lexa.

“Tell her you’re in love with her.”

Clarke’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t say anything. She just goes into the room and takes Lexa’s still hand. Lena takes the other arm and draws some of her black blood, feeding it into the machine. It starts whirring and Lena takes a deep breath before reciting the phrase she found in Becca’s notes

“Ascende Superius.”

On the bed, Lexa begins to stir. When Lexa’s eyes open, Clarke begins to cry, tangling their fingers together and pressing them to her lips.

Lena smiles and motions for Kara to follow her out of the room. Kara looks at her curiously. “You don’t wanna talk to her?”

Lena shakes her head as she looks at the two girls in the room, their foreheads touching, Clarke whispering something unintelligible in Lexa’s ear. “I think what Clarke has to say is more important.”

Kara nods, and she’s about to walk away, to tell Alex the good news, but Lena stops her with a hand on her wrist. “I have something to say as well.”

Kara waits patiently as Lena takes a deep breath, and watches curiously with cheeks tinted lightly pink when she steps closer. “I wanted to thank you, Supergirl.”

“For what?”

Lena exhales shakily. “For... For everything. For not saying ‘I told you so’ when it turned out that you were right. For staying all this time. For caring about Lexa. For not blaming her for all those deaths. For working so tirelessly with me to make sure we found a cure for her. For making sure I didn’t drown in guilt over what happened. For those daily lunches that were my saving grace. Just.... for everything.Thank you.”

Kara sees Lena lean closer, and before she can stop herself, she turns her head ever so slightly, so that Lena’s soft kiss to her cheek presses to her lips instead.

She closes her eyes and forgets to breathe.

And for one breathless second, Lena pulls away the barest inch, so that her own name whispers against her lips. “Kara...”

Kara’s eyes flutter open in shock. “You know?”

Lena nods, still not moving farther away from Kara when she would have thought that the truth would send Lena running away in anger. “I do.”

“Lena --” Kara’s voice breaks, and her hands come up to grasp Lena’s arms almost desperately, and miraculously, Lena clings back, just as tightly, with one hand, while the other comes up to touch Kara’s cheek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how to--”

Lena shushes her with a finger to her lips. “Your actions always speak better than your words, Kara. After everything you’ve done for me, for Lexa....”

“For you.” Kara cradles Lena’s face in her hands, blue eyes earnestly seeking green. “Yes, it was for Lexa, but you have to know, it was all for you, Lena. All of it. Everything. For you.”

Lena silences her desperate words with a kiss, and Kara exhales into her mouth with relief. Their lips slide together sweetly, and Kara wants to cry, because it feels so much like coming home.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Alex’s exasperated voice rings out somewhere behind Kara. “I just left a scene like this in Lexa’s room. Jesus! Just so you know, Lexa is fine. So please, for the love of God, Lena, get your tongue out of my sister’s mouth, and take Lexa and her girlfriend home so you Luthors can stop gaying up the DEO.”

Lena laughs into Kara’s mouth, just as she pulls away, and Kara wants to chase after her lips to chase the delicious vibrations of that laugh again. “You do an excellent job of that all by yourself, even without our help, Agent Danvers.”

“Fuck you, Luthor.”

_________________

By SorrowsFlower

Oh, thank God. I finally managed to get this out of my head! It’s been stuck in there for so long. Hopefully, this is enough to exorcise it.

[aoskalskirata]

When Hell breaks loose, it's never pretty...

The humans have been at war for a long time now, roughly 5 standard years since first contact with a resurgent alien AI that managed to wipe out it's creators some decades ago, or so it thought. A few outlying colonies, one of them just lightyears from Terra, panicked and left their worlds, becoming nomadic until they found mankind, and asked for shelter in exchange for advanced technology to propel their new hosts into space. The aliens now reside on Mars, and accept their new designation that had been derived nearly a century ago.

After learning of a potential threat to their homeworld, the humans quickly developed warships to defend Terra and Mars, and then it came. Just a couple larger ships, but with a massive swarm of drone fighters. Around 10 Hoplite-class frigates were lost, along with 3 mobile refineries and 2 wings of fighters. All told, around 50 lives were lost in the first conflict, and the Martians believed that their allies would soon lose the impending war, as the AI units were always transferring information, then a new series of ships started production in the shipyards. Three new combat models started patrolling out as far as Jupiter orbit, each larger than the last. The smallest of the three also looked a little more specialized, with a pod on its port side. Another AI destroyer jumped in on the Jupiter fleet, and this time, only two of the missile frigates were lost; another 6 lives. The humans were making deadlier vessels, but how long would these designs last? Apparently not long, as another large fleet of AI jumped in right above Mars, and even some of the larger cruisers went down, each holding 10 crew. Once again, things weren't looking good, and things went dark once the AI started sending their fighters against the Martian colonies. An hour into the raids, and a new, much larger ship warped in, with just one word plastered on the side: Atlas. A true capital ship, with it's own fighters to boot.

Once again, the AI was beaten back, and once again, the humans were victorious, even if at a cost. Some months after the Mars defense, one of the Martian leaders had requested permission to enter the human admiral's quarters aboard the Curiosity, one of four Hephaestus-class mobile shipyards moving around the system, Curiosity currently sitting above Mars, acting as the command center of a survey mission concerning the AI wreckage.

"Admiral, it's been three years since you developed the Hoplite frigate, and now you have a ship that can possibly face one of their dreadnoughts. How is this possible?"

"Well, let's look back to our first world war. The first half was fought on horseback, as that was the fastest mode of viable combat transportation at the time. Around 1916, the first tanks were made, thus changing the way we waged war forever. The second world war rolled around, and now you have several nations developing multiple kinds of tanks for different purposes, specializing them, and even making artillery more mobile than before. As we progressed, so did our technology... and our sadism followed."

The admiral thought for a moment "wait... dreadnought, as in larger than what we've seen already?"

"Correct."

"... we will meet again soon." He quickly walked out, and the representative followed.

Another year passed, and more and more AI capital ships came to their deaths, bringing thousands of Sol's finest down with them...

Present Day---

Admiral Hackett and Senator 'Rocky', as he had been nicknamed, now were meeting in the bridge of the Atlas command ship, overlooking an unusually large frame, holding a slightly smaller ship superstructure within.

"Admiral, what is this that's been commissioned? Surely not another warship variant?"

"If what you said two years ago was true, then all that's left is to keep scaling our ships up until either we can't go bigger or the war ends."

"You humans are so twisted at times.."

"It'll get to the point where it's either us or them, just as it had with your civilization. Adaptation is what allows the strongest to survive"

"The last time my species adapted was when we first touched the stars..." Rocky thought aloud, absentmindedly.

"Exactly. Complacency is a very deadly thing, and never works in favor of those that are"

"... how many men will this monster require?" Referring to the ship being constructed I the gantry.

"Over a hundred"

"What is the classification?"

"Ares" a thought suddenly comes to Hackett, and slowly surfaces through his face as he turns to loom at Senator Rocky.

"What?"

"Ares and Mars are the names of the Greek and Roman gods of war, respectively. Their mythologies and cultures were largely the same, and in some aspects, Rome borrowed from Greece. I believe that some of your people are still wanting to fight, no?"

"I-... well, I guess it would seem fitting, given the new name of our civilization. I shall have word put out to my people, and will ask that you send over recruiters immediately. I will set up the appropriate facilities in the meantime."

"Of course, Senator." The two departed, Admiral Hackett taking a few more minutes before returning to his work.

Decades pass without conflict, and the AI are all but forgotten. The newly promoted Admiral is about to announce the mass demilitarization of the Sol Defense Fleet when reports start flooding his terminal. Neptune, Uranus, and Saturn fleets are all wiped out, along with the shipyards Warbound and Vulcanist. Hundreds of lives lost.

The Admiral was aboard the Atlas, orbiting Mars, and a massive fleet jumps in right on top of his. Over 10 destroyers, 5 battle cruisers, and 3 ships of a much larger size, the fabled dreadnoughts. Massive clouds of drones launch from the AI fleet, and are closing in quickly on Atlas and her escorts. The order to scramble fighters is given, and maybe all of 30 launch in response, but they go down the moment they enter range. Hoplite frigates, Styx cruisers, and Athena destroyers all move forward in response, and they don't even make a dent in the swarm, only the Athenas are holding. One of the dreadnoughts turns to the surface of Mars, and the front end starts glowing in its sinister green light. It looked almost ready to fire when the hull started buckling from explosions. From above, a massive human ship, maybe twice the size of the Purge-class dreadnought, fired upon the AI battle group. The rest of the larger ships turned to face the reinforcements, and the destroyers simply melted, battlecruisers fragmented, and another dreadnought buckled, and started falling to the Martian surface. The drones pulled off from what was left of the Mars defense group and converged on their last mothership.

The human dreadnought did something that no one had seen before. It reoriented itself to point straight down in relation to the Purge, which started charging what could only be it's superweapon. Not a single shot was exchanged for what seemed forever. The ball of energy on the front had stopped growing for 30 seconds, lost it's color from increasing brightness, a brief flash from the human ship, and the light in front of the Purge just goes out.

The Admiral starts looking down, fearing the worst, and light starts coming back to the AI dreadnought, this time orange, bringing his attention back to the fight. Just small points of orange, fading in and out all across the hull. It starts fragmenting, and he falls to his knees in relief, unable to speak.

'We did it. We beat them. Thank the Ares-class for this final victory...'

Wrong.

Another year passes, yet again without conflict since those first dreadnoughts, and this time the order to demilitarize the fleet is carried through. Occasionally a couple AI frigates would threaten the random convoy passing through the first asteroid belt, but those ambushes were quickly policed by the last remaining battle group of the SDF, said frigates thought to have been stragglers from the war.

Again, wrong.

Fast forward another 30 years, and the Martians are thriving once again, and they expand with the humans to their old worlds, looking to rebuild what was lost nearly a century ago, and ruins turn to vast cities once again.

And for a time, a long time, the AI were forgotten.

But oh, how complacency kills.

A decade into the expansion, and smaller colonies of what is now the Sol Empire begin going silent. Scout ships are sent to investigate, and they too end up going dark, until one comes back with data. Images of the previous scouts in sector D-623-a4, along with some dark shape being escorted by several dreadnoughts, along with a message file that snuck into one of the terminals aboard the scout ship.

The Admiral ordered for further investigation, and when confronted by press, stated that progress was being made with the investigation of the colony blackout, but nothing confirmed as of yet, as it was now vital that the people not be panicked by what's in the outer rim.

Months passed, and colonies kept going dark, scout ships kept getting lost, and the same message kept coming back: "I have waited a long time for this. I will carry out my directive."

The admiral turned to the helmsman of Atlas "captain, get me The Fleet"

"S-sir?" He replied, confused.

"The entire damned SDF. We need it back online immediately"

"But that won't be able to stop whatever we're dealing with here. We don't have enough shi-"

"What we have now is not the entire fleet, damnit! Computer, pull up the roster the the Sol Defense Fleet at it's peak"

The holoscreen flashed with several different blueprints, the Atlas, Curiosity, and the first Hoplite frigates among dozens upon dozens of other individual vessels. A disembodied voice replied "Virgil, if you'd be so kind, sir, and at peak, the SDF had well over a hundred ships under it's command, including nearly 200 fighters, some of which were wings full of ace pilots for their time. All battle groups currently reside in the Sol Military Museum, between Terra and Venus orbits. That's what I believe you were meaning for your initial request, sir."

A Martian started punching away at his terminal "Already plotting course, sir. I should also mention that I may or may not have been told stories of what's heading this way.."

"It better not be what I think it is, Navigation."

"We both know the response to that one, sir."

Months more pass, and the new Martian Councilor joins the next Admiral Hackett aboard the Atlas, overseeing the SDF revival project.

"I always thought that these were just oversized cargo vessels, Admiral. I mean, how would they not be freighters?"

"Nope. Dedicated warships from a time of war, and every soul to have ever stepped foot in them knew the risks, a good number of them paying that price. Even my father, the admiral before me, knew that. And now I stand where he stood, desperately hoping to find a solution to an extinction-level problem."

"Your father served? How long?"

"Since before you sought shelter from us. Long before"

"Is your entire family known for serving?"

"No, it's mostly been a thing for the males, going as far back as my great-grandfather, who retired roughly a century ago, and wound up deceased a couple years before my father was born."

"Is your family the only one to do this? To serve for generations?"

"Most certainly not, and some families are lucky enough to serve within the same unit as one another. Even females have been known to serve since my great-grandfather's time in the old Army. Some say it's a tradition, some cases dating back by hundreds of years or more"

"We digress. Do you think that we will be able to successfully bring these vessels back? Will they even work?"

"Technology has stagnated a little since the trade agreement between our races, I think we're able to pull out at least 75% of these mothballs out."

"And where will you get the manpower? Don't the frigates alone take dozens of people to operate?"

"3 people per frigate, we had to find a way to cut back on expenses somehow, so we slaved weapons systems to common guidance systems in banks. Of course, more weapon banks means more people, but that means that we can afford the extra crew space. It also makes it easier to mass produce even our larger ships."

"You humans are stranger than Senator Rocky had stated when he was in power, but for both of our sakes, I hope you're right about resurrecting the fleet."

Weeks pass still, and the fleet is slowly brought back into service, but it wasn't too long before the AI itself arrived, the flagship with it's Purge dreadnought escorts, around 20 of them. The flagship hailed the Atlas. "I have waited a long time for this, Kar'rastra. This time, I will be sure to carry out the task set by my creators, your ancestors. Humans, don't stand in my way this time, or your homeworld will be the first that I burn."

Admiral Hackett, stumbling over what the AI said, responded "run that last part by me again?"

"Your homeworld will be the first to burn if you keep these hostages under your custody-"

"Hold on just a minute... 'hostages'? We have done nothing wrong to them. In fact, they came to us seeking refuge from you! We were told that you were destroying their colonies and killing every last one of the Kar-rastra. We have been defending the last of their kind from you, and now you want us to stand by as you take them for slaughter once again? I cannot al-"

"I will stop you right there, as we may have had a century-long misunderstanding. I'm not eradicating anyone. I've been relocating them to a different galaxy, away from the real threat." The dreadnoughts reformed, making a ring between the flagships, and they all fired their spinal lasers into the center, and a different set of stars could be seen on the other side.

"Then why were they running from you? Besides, they haven't been attacked by anything else, so what makes you think that we can trust you?"

"You will soon regret thi-" the portal closes, and five of the dreadnoughts shatter in the void, another two falling victim to the resulting debris.

"All ships, this is MDS Endgame. Engage and fire at will" a massive hulk came flying through the AI formation, followed by three others, the last one taking light fire.

"MDS Revenge here, let's give it to them."

"MDS Oblivion here, opening up with alpha strike on following vector. Stay clear" another of these hulks comes up from the bottom, and fires directly up, slagging another 3 dreadnoughts at once. The AI flagship opens up with its main batteries, punching a few holes in her armor. "Oblivion taking moderate damage, pulling back before things get too messy. Batteries Bravo through Foxtrot are down, decks 3 and 5 are venting atmosphere. 3 bulkheads down."

"MDS Ares here, stay outside of the control ship's range, we don't want to-" another one takes two more dreadnoughts, but gets hit along the spine, taking out the bridge and all vital systems, and it soon vaporizes in it's own failed reactors. All hands lost.

"Endgame here. Focus all fire on the control ship. Without the core, the rest will stop functioning."

"Revenge. Solid copy."

"Oblivion copies"

"MDS Immortal here. Transmitting firing solutions now. Keep your spine out of reach if you can, we don't wanna end up like the Ares."

"Endgame launching fighters. Lost Boys, you reading Lima charlie?"

"Lost Leader, lima charlie. What's the weak spot on this beast?"

"Go for the engines, might be able to make a window for Catalyst to jump through."

"Roger. Lost Boys, form up and watch for those drone rockets."

"Lost Four here, there's a small trench line, looks unprotected."

"Lead copies and likes the idea. Double file in the trench. Double time."

"Endgame here. All units, deploy fighters, let's buy the Lost Boys some time. All wings, launch when ready."

"Revenge, launch all wings."

"Oblivion here, starboard hangar is hit, 5 fighters lost, the rest unreachable. Available wings flying now."

"Immortal wings taking flight, firing another alpha strike." Another massive salvo from the MDS Immortal, but some of the smaller rounds were stopped by a massive swarm of drones that had moved to shield their motherships. Some of the larger rounds got through, and still managed to down another dreadnought.

"They're down by 50%. Lost Lead, what's the ETA for your run?"

"Lost Lead here, this thing's fuck-off massive, it doesn't look like there's a back end at all. Will keep you updated, Endgame."

"Roger, we'll keep an eye on your six."

And the battle raged on, Admiral Hackett getting lost in the chatter and explosions all around. It wasn't long before what appeared to be a box executing an uncomfortably close flyby of the Atlas' aft bridge.

Hell has just arrived, and it's happy to join the fray.

"Catalyst reporting, sorry for showing up late, but I thought you liked having me and the boys at parties."

Hackett quickly got to his comms terminal. "Atlas here, and you know that you're only late if the party ends without you. Good to hear from ya."

"That makes two of us, dad. Lost Lead, your scans say anything about an interior?"

"Ah.. nothing so far, sir. Being honest, I don't even know whe- well, the exterior just finished, and it looks like we're a half hour out from making you an opening. Luckily, I haven't seen a single gun for the past 3, so hopefully we're far out enough to just roll out the red carpet here. 7 and 12, see if you can punch a hole. Everyone else, form up on me, y-axis circle."

"Sounds good, we'll form up on the carpet in 2" Catalyst's commander said as the fighter wing complied. The two Stinger-class fighters that broke off opened up with a small amount of missiles, and the result looked promising.

"Lost Lead hear, and the forecast is sunny with a chance of Medal of Honor." The ring of fighters opened up with a barrage of rockets and ballistic fire, cutting and blowing a Hephaestus sized hole into the hull of the almost endless drone flagship. The Catalyst, a Cloudscatter-class frigate, flies right through the ring and into the maw of buckled plating and ship dust.

"What do you think you are doing? Get out of my ship!" The AI exclaimed.

"Only if you agree to take what toys you have left and leave this galaxy" the commander aboard the Catalyst, Colbran Hackett, was in a bit of a sour mood, playing to the smartass nature that his father did when he was younger.

"Hey Lead, look at this" one of the other fighters flew closer to the hole, slowly.

"Is.. is that.. blood?"

"Dunno, sir. Conduct EVA to collect a sample?"

"Scanning... go ahead"

The pilot overrode the safety measures that sealed the cockpit, opened the hatch, and jumped onto the hull of the flagship, everything being suspended in free fall. He collects a stained shard of metal with a ziploc bag, seals the bag, and returns to his craft, and reverses the console work to repressurize the cockpit.

"Yeah, this looks like blood, sir, and there's more pouring out. Saving this for the Chaos Theory."

"Roger. Return to Endgame, wing. Our job here is done" the squadron flew back towards their mothership, and through the chaos of battle, docked with their Ares-class dreadnought.

"Catalyst to Atlas. Things don't look quite right here... I expected there to be a bit more space in a core ship of this size."

"What do you mean?"

"There's secondary structures all over the place. There's just so much unnecessary material here for an AI core. Lost Lead, are your scans completed yet?"

"Lost Lead here, one of my guys found out something rather interesting about this ship. We're about to take it to Chaos Theory for more details, maybe that'll help with the scans, and answer the question no one's asking."

"Chaos Theory here, preliminary research on the anomaly appears to be organic in nature. Most likely crew, but then that raises the question of why crew a one-man ship."

"See what you can do, Doc."

"If course sir. Chaos Theory out."

"Lost Lead here. Structure scans are picking up on the negative space in proximity to you. See if you can fly around and give us a bit more information."

"Roger. Launching fighters and shuttles to speed things up."

The scan time was halved, and soon the interior map finished rendering, and while that was being done, the strange sample was sent off to the defense fleet's research vessel, the Chaos Theory.

Another few minutes passed, along with more cruiser losses. The Athena-class destroyer, Monumental, was just destroyed. All 10 of her crew lost in a super beam from a Purge dreadnought.

"Atlas, Chaos Theory. Initial suspicions were correct, but not crew."

"What do you mean 'not crew'?"

"As in this fluid is the ship's blood in the most literal way. Notice how the flagship is still leaking."

"Catalyst. Plant boots. I wanna know what's inside the secondary structures ASAP."

"Roger. Marines, you heard him."

"5 steps ahead of ya, Cap. All pods loaded and awaiting drop order."

"Boots away."

"Boots away. Might want to send a group to cover our entrance. Wouldn't wanna get picked off by a drone."

"Cruiser Neverending here, rallying buttplug detail now. Restless, Lowborn, and Painted Ash, form up on me." Two Apollo frigates, a Styx cruiser, and an Athena destroyer regrouped on the super ship's opening, providing a point defense shield against the stray drone squadron. "Buttplug detail has arrived. Nothing's gonna get in, Chief."

"Catalyst here, please never call it that again."

"No promises-"

"Atlas here, please never call it that again."

"Copy."

The Catalyst drops her pods, and the marines start bounding towards the largest internal structure under the 5 inch thick hull plating, which was much thinner than it should've been for a ship of this magnitude.

"This thing looks just a bit.. fragile, wouldn't you say, sarn't?"

"Yeah. If anyone with a mind were to have built something to control an entirely automated fleet, then I would have gone as small as possible, so it'd be easier to hide it among asteroids or debris."

"Guess this machine's about as stupid as you get"

"Cut the chatter. See if you guys can find the main hub and enter it. Big wings wanna know what exactly we're dealing with, as they say that this isn't exactly... normal."

"If I may ask sir, what does that mean?"

"Being honest, we have no clue, hence your part of the mission. Give intel."

"Roger."

Another 5 minutes, and the marines spot a conjunction of the secondary structuring, larger than other crossings, somewhere amid ships.

"Sir, I think this is the central hub. Time to go boom?"

"Enough to get an eyeball inside. If this thing has crew, we grill 'em."

"I've got a bad feeling about this.."

The marines set a breach charge, lit it off, and entered the chamber. The NCO looked around with his crew, and saw a roughly organic figure situated in the center, mounted to a rather gruesome apparatus that was part machine, part organic material. Helmet lights came on and revealed a very disfigured, and very alive, Kar-rastra suspended by several pseudo-mechanical limbs, most of them pumping something through a series of fleshy tubes, and his body regularly pulses with that fluid.

Blood.

"Sir... you're not gonna believe this.. it's.. it's not an AI at all.."

"Say again?"

"See for yourself, sir.." The marines broadcast their suit cams to the CIC of the Catalyst, which was in turn broadcasting to the Atlas and Chaos Theory. Now all of command knew of this hellship.

Part 2 to come soon, post is getting long and phone being stupid. Hope yall enjoy my take on space orcs!

Edit: part 2 is out, and kinda short, but it was, imo, a nice end to the short.

[leoneandpegs]

The Art of Deception

I’m here and back on my bullshit

(this was originally a vent and it turned into this? I apologise in advance)

Tony was confident. He was smooth and sly. Growing up with the press, he had learned at a very young age that he had people to impress. He was constantly in the spotlight. Constantly watched. The whole world was watching him. Every move; every word; every little thing he had done was known by everyone and able to be accessed by anyone. He was a celebrity; an icon that the whole world looked up to. He influenced society with what he said and did. He couldn’t take anything back. Once it was done, it was there forever. Never forgotten. Easily accessed.

Sometimes, he wished he had a normal life. Wished he didn’t feel like he had to live up to society’s standards. Wished the world wasn’t watching his life play out. Wished he wasn’t constantly judged for anything he did. He desperately wanted a life where he didn’t have to have the pressure of impressing everyone.

Tony’s father wasn’t great. In fact, he was a piece of shit. He didn’t love Tony. If he did, he was just shite at showing it. Tony only longed for his father’s love and support. He wanted a father to tell him that he was proud of him. As a child, Tony worked hard to show Howard that he was worth his time. To show that he was just as smart as him. But even with that, Howard still turned him away. He just wanted to be at least acknowledged by him. Was it just too much to ask? For a father to be loving and supportive? Maybe Howard wasn’t cut out to be a father. (Of course he wasn’t, he was a terrible father.)

Maybe that’s where the problems all started. With his father. Maybe if his father had been somewhat good at what he was supposed to do, he wouldn’t be overly self critical about himself. Maybe he wouldn’t think that everything he did wasn’t good enough.

The Tony the world knew was different to the real Tony. He wasn’t confident and self-assured. He was hurting. Constantly. He never felt like he was good enough. Was he good enough? Was anything he did good enough? Were his inventions good enough? No. That was always his answer. No.

And as life went on, it only became worse.

The Avengers. A group put together to protect the Earth. To make the world feel safe. A group of remarkable and skilled people that were able to bring hope and stability to the world. A group that were meant to be friends. In a sense, they were.

Tony cared for them; he really did. He showed that in his own way. He tinkered and built them their weapons. That was always the way he showed someone that they cared for them (with some exceptions). That was always the way he showed it. It was the only way he knew how to show it. It was a way to relieve his stress. Sometimes though, he felt like they didn’t care about him.

Maybe it was his terrible self-esteem, but he often felt like he was cast out from the group. Like he didn’t really belong there. Sure, he was part of the Avengers but he didn’t think he belonged there as a friend.

Ever since Afghanistan and becoming Iron Man, his mental health had deteriorated even quicker than before. Mixed with his depression and anxiety, there was PTSD. His mind was tainted with the memories of torture, the terrible surgery for his arc reactor and flying into that wormhole during the invasion. His dreams were replaced with nightmares that haunted his mind. That’s part of what caused the insomnia.

He never slept. He couldn’t sleep. Thoughts plagued him, whispering from the back of his mind. A mantra. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. He wished he was good enough.

As a superhero, you can’t save everyone. A fact that Tony was yet to accept. The guilt was always there. People he couldn’t save. All those innocent people that died because he couldn’t save them. He should’ve been able to save them. He should’ve saved them. They had friends. They had family. Why couldn’t he save them all?

The press was unforgiving. Always highlighting his faults and mistakes. Did that help him? Of course not. It only gave him another reason to keep on upgrading his suits and the Avengers’ weapons. He had to be able to save everyone. He needed his gear to be the best it could be. The whole world was relying on him; on the safety he brought to them.

Therapy kinda helped. But then again, he had never been the kind of person that would talk about his feelings. He was never allowed to. (Another fault of Howard Stark.) He was given medication. At times, it felt like it really did help him but at others, it felt like there was no point in taking them. The ups and downs of his mental health, he guessed.

He saw Pepper die. Well, she didn’t really die but he watched her fall. He thought she was dead. She should’ve been dead. If it weren’t for that damn Extremis that she was injected with, she would’ve died. He was thankful for that, but she shouldn’t have been kidnapped or injected with it in the first place. And that was his fault. He shouldn’t have let her get kidnapped. Now she had to have the memories of it.

The Avengers - his second family. And although he felt cast out at times, he enjoyed having them live with him. He enjoyed having their company and the shenanigans they got up to. It was never truly uneventful when they were there. Their family was dysfunctional, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

In his quest to keep the world as safe as possible, he created Ultron. In theory, his plan was great. A robot that would bring safety to Earth. A set of hands around the world; protecting the whole population from the inevitable alien attack. If only it didn’t completely backfire.

He didn’t expect Ultron to become evil. Nobody did. He just wanted another way to protect everyone. Apparently, that was just too much to ask.

Ultron was built to protect the Earth, but instead wanted to destroy it. His plan was to kill the entire population of the planet. All of the innocent people. Everyone.

That took a big toll on Tony. He was to blame. He created Ultron. Bruce was missing. He lost JARVIS and even though he now had Vision, he would never be the same. Anyone who died during that attack was on Tony. His fault, his fault, his fault. His mental health got worse.

As he was still yet to fulfil his quest of ensuring the safety of the entire Earth, Tony kept on working. Working on new suits. Working on new weapons. Anything and everything to make sure everyone was safe. ‘You can’t save everyone.’ Bullshit. Tony would make sure that everyone was safe. He could save everyone. He had to be able to. After all of the innocent people he couldn’t save, he had to make sure there wasn’t anymore.

But what happens when those weapons are used against him? The same weapons he gifted those he called family used against each other. They were meant to protect the world, not create what they called ‘the civil war.’

Betrayal. Betrayed by the people he cared for the most. He did a lot of things he regretted during that time. Blinded by rage and hurt, he became desperate to bring his family back together. He brought Peter into the fight. And even though he was definitely good enough to go into a fight like that, he was only a child. He didn’t have to be dragged into that.

Rhodey. Oh god, Rhodey. He was paralysed. And it was his fault. Was it really his fault? No. But did he still think it was? Yes. But still, he made sure that Rhodey has the best damn leg braces that he could build. He would make it so he could walk again.

Then, Siberia happened. Finding out the truth about the death of his parents, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Learning that someone he completely trusted had lied to him for years, he felt utterly betrayed. And then he was left there to die.

He was alone. Again. He only had Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. And maybe Peter. Not that he meant to let Peter into his life like that, Peter just had a way of working his way into people's hearts.

He gave Peter the suit. It was so much better than his homemade suit anyway. Such a drastic improvement. He was able to track how well Peter was doing and if he had any injuries. He also gave Peter an AI for his suit. Peter named her Karen which he found quite cute.

That was until the ferry fiasco. He took away the suit. He had to take away the suit. It was to keep him safe. Peter couldn’t be responsible about having the suit. That would stop him, right? Wrong.

Tony thought about if it was the wrong decision to take the suit away from Peter. No. It was definitely the right decision. He wouldn’t get hurt. He didn’t need the suit. He needed to learn that he could be something without the suit. He couldn’t have known that taking away the suit wouldn’t stop Peter.

Peter, desperate to prove himself to Tony, went after Vulture on homecoming night. In the end, he didn’t know if he should have gone or not. Having a building dropped on you isn’t a great experience. But he saved the Avengers’ items and that’s what really mattered. To him, anyway.

Tony was absolutely devastated when he found out what really went down on that night. Peter still went out in his fucking pyjamas after Tony took the suit. He took away Peter’s layer of protection. And now he was dealing with the PTSD of having the damn warehouse collapse on him. That was his fault. Everything was his fault.

Even after Peter turned down the offer to be in the Avengers, they still stayed quite close. Peter was gifted the suit back and he visited the tower, which Tony decided to no longer sell, at least once a week.

Tony loved Peter. Hell, even Pepper loved Peter. Have you looked at him? That boy is literally a puppy. At that point, Peter was basically Tony’s son. And Tony was basically a helicopter parent. Howard didn’t completely fuck him up. He was able to take care of his totally not-son. Fuck you Howard.

Peter knew Tony; the real Tony. Despite what the kids at school said about his ‘Stark Internship’, he did actually know Tony Stark himself. And not the press Tony Stark™️, the real Tony Stark. He was one of the lucky few who knew what Tony was really like. Not like how the press portrayed him. He wouldn’t dare say it, but Tony was his father figure. (Honestly, both of them needed to fucking grow some balls and admit it; everyone knew that they were father and son.)

When Tony was with Peter, he finally felt like he was enough for someone. That someone being Peter. And really, to Peter, Tony was more than enough. He had looked up to Tony his entire life so now knowing him was kinda a mindfuck to Peter.

But even so, Tony still wanted to ensure safety to all the people of Earth. Then, he made Mark 50. A nanotech suit that he can get in an instant. Even though it was quite a pain to get the whole mechanism installed (and a pain to have in his body,) it was well worth it if it made sure that Earth could be protected.

It had been about a year since the ‘Civil War’. Still, no contact had been made between Tony and Steve. Tony didn’t really want to. Yes, he wanted his family back but could he really trust them all again? Would they betray his trust again? Steve lied to him for years. On something he had the right to know. Something he shouldn’t have found out about in Siberia. Forgivable? Probably not. He wasn’t mad at Bucky. He was never mad at Bucky. As much as he wanted to be, he couldn’t be. It wasn’t his fault that he was brainwashed and used by HYDRA. He was the weapon that HYDRA yielded. He was mad at the fact that the truth was hidden from him for years. Hidden from him by someone he put his complete trust in.

The Avengers were no longer a reliable option when it came to protecting the world. Nobody knew where they were. Did Team Cap ever think about the consequences on the civilians of the world? They only had a handful of people left that they could put their faith in to keep their world safe. They lived in fear of what could happen without them.

Infinity war. That’s what they called it. That was the inevitable invasion Tony always prepared for. What Tony had been thinking about ever since the invasion in New York. And another one was about to happen.

It seemed like a somewhat normal day. It was a normal day. It should’ve been a normal day. Why wasn’t it a normal day? Just him and Pepper in that park. That’s how it should’ve stayed. Fate works in weird ways and it’s not always the way that it should be.

Tony never thought he would ever actually have to go into space. And especially not with the kid. Peter was just meant to be help the little guys, not carry the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. Peter was a good kid. He already held grief and sadness yet still managed to keep a smile on his face at all times. He didn’t need to be corrupted by the demons and pain of the world. He didn’t need to see space as what it really was.

Oh, yeah and Thanos was a fucking demon of a purple space grape. He stabbed- wait no, impaled Tony. He had the audacity to do so after talking so highly about him. He stood there, waiting for the black to start coming into the corner of his eyes. He was waiting for death. He was going to have the death he always wanted. Dying while saving the world; dying in honour. And he was, until-

“Stop.”

Looking over, he saw Strange. Didn’t he say that he would protect the time stone even if it cost him his life? He wasn’t just going to give over the time stone. This wasn’t the way they would win, right? This couldn’t be the only way.

“It was the only way.”

Well, shit. This is not how he expected any of this to go. And now Thanos was gone. He was sat there, helpless. Not knowing what would come next. Thanos had surely gone to Earth. He didn’t have the mind stone - Vision was still out there, alive. All he could hope was that those that were defending Earth could do so. He prayed to a God he didn’t even believe in that it would all go well.

First it was Mantis. Then it was Drax. Then it was Quill. Then Strange.

“Mr Stark?”

God please no. Not him. Not Peter. The sweet innocent boy Tony had grown to love. He had so much to live for. He had so much potential. An amazing future waiting for him.

“I don’t feel so good.”

Falling into Tony’s arms, Peter clutched desperately onto him as he begged for his life. Too young; too pure. Slowly fading away. Grasping on to Tony for his dear life. This wasn’t the way it was meant to go. He was meant to be peaceful, not in pain. Not begging for his life. Not meant to be a child when he experienced death.

He dusted. Ripped from existence. Ripped from Tony’s grasp. Tony sat there and waited for it too. He waited for the dust to come from his fingers and take him away from existence. It was his turn.

But, it never came.

For the first time in years, he cried freely. He didn’t hold back. Tears rolled down his stained cheeks, mixing with the blood from the various wounds situated on his face. He tasted the dust and the blood. He tasted the tears. He tasted the pain. He tasted the loss.

He failed. He failed to protect the Earth. He failed to protect the universe. He failed to protect Peter. This was all his fault.

His fault. His fault. His fault. His fau….

- 🌻 (Pegs)

My AO3: oofandpeggy

[gold-from-straw]

Frozen Heart - ch5

Loki has a bad morning, but on the plus side, now Tony is well rested, he's able to recognise some accidental culture clash and resolve their awful misunderstanding! TW for panic attacks, blood, and accidental self-harm caused by a nightmare.

Read from the beginning on AO3 if you prefer! I’m tagging anyone who left a note on the previous chapter here as well, hope that’s OK!

Loki woke with a jolt, his heart pounding, nightmares of a frozen world and evil red eyes lingering in the fringes of his mind. He lifted trembling hands to cover his face, and nearly screamed.

He stumbled out of bed, his heart thumping, trying to get away from the vicious black claws, the blue skin that had haunted his nightmares since his childhood. He scratched at his arm, tore at the pale lines raised in the skin, whimpering and panicking, the quiet, calm voice inside now drowned out by the storm, and he couldn’t find himself, couldn’t dig himself out from under this hellish mask, this curse, this…

“Hey! Hey, Loki, please, calm, will you? Hey, look at me? I’m not going to touch you, alright? I just want you to look at the lights, can you do that? Can you breathe in with the light as it gets brighter? That’s great, keep going… OK, and now out. Like you’re whistling, purse your lips, yeah, just like that. Now in, feel it… feel it filling you up or… yeah, this is good. That’s great, buddy. OK, I’m just gonna… can I see your arms?”

Stark came closer, still holding his hands out in front of him and looking as unthreatening as possible. Logically Loki could see that he was veryunthreatening, a small mortal in soft clothing, hair still sleep-mussed and face pillow-creased, but with his heart still hammering inside his own chest, he couldn’t handle logic at all. He tugged his arms closer to himself, fingers slick with his own blood.

Then he looked down. The blood was indigo. He whimpered and pushed his arms out as far from himself as he could, staggering backwards, his breathing speeding up again.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK! I’ll get them fixed up, no worries.” Stark cupped his hands around Loki’s wrists, making a surprised hum. “Wow, you’re cold.”

Loki let out a burst of hysterical laughter that very nearly turned into a sob. How utterly pathetic. To have been reduced to a scared child, cowering in someone else’s room, terrified of his own appearance after a nightmare… Loki turned his face and closed his eyes. It was almost unbearable.

Stark tugged him gently over to the bed, encouraging him to sit. He left him there, staring down helplessly, hatefully, at his blue, bleeding arms. “Here we go,” Stark said a moment later, setting a bowl of water down by Loki’s feet. He took Loki’s wrist in his hand and started dabbing the blood away, staining the water an inky blue. Loki stared at the colour diffusing through the water and tried not to despair.

“There we go,” Stark said with a grin. Loki looked at his forearms, wrapped in pristine white bandages. He felt emptied out, like his heart had been excavated from his chest, leaving him dull and hollow. Stark’s smile slowly slipped from his face and he bit his lip. “Ah, do you… do you want to talk a bit?”

Loki blinked at him.

“Like, uh… do you maybe want to… were you trying to, um. Were you trying to hurt yourself? Is this, like, a self-harm thing? Because I won’t judge, I just…” He scruffed his hair. “Yeah, I’m not very good at this shit. Are you… OK?” He winced and looked at Loki sideways, almost as if he thought Loki would strike him for his question.

“No, Stark,” said Loki, his voice sounding very distant. “I am not OK.”

“Yeah, I kinda… got that.” Stark sat on his haunches and rubbed his face. “You know what? We need a load of breakfast. I’m thinking pastries and donuts, something that won’t go cold or soggy, and then I think you should tell me all about it. I mean, I can’t promise I’ll be any help.” He winced again. “Honestly, I’ll probably be shit. Like, worse than nothing. I’m not… the best listener. Or the best friend. But…” he shrugged and looked away like he didn’t care at all. “Yeah, croissants! JARVIS, could you order us, eh, I dunno, one of everything from Belle Maison?”

“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS replied.

Loki looked up in the direction of the voice. He had been introduced to JARVIS the night before, but this morning, after a night of somewhat effective sleep, he could cling to the fascination sparking in his chest, distract himself. “Is your companion made of magic?” he asked.

“What, JARV? Nah - or, well, he’s an AI - artificial intelligence. He’s made out of computer code and electronics and… stuff.”

“I blush, Sir,” said JARVIS dryly.

Stark just smirked. “I’ll show you the bots in a minute, it might make a bit more sense then. Assuming you’re still up for a bit of research in a while?”

Loki felt the cold flood through his system once more, ridiculous for a Frost Giant. He had forgotten during Stark’s treatment of him this morning that he was little more than a prisoner here. He was Stark’s research project, and nothing more - this had not been kindness, but a care for one’s tools. Loki summoned up a professional mask and nodded.

Stark blinked, his own smile faltering. “OK… OK, if you’re sure? Anyway. For now, do you want a coffee or something? I need coffee, I’m not human without the first one of the morning.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. “Hyperbole?” he asked.

Stark winked at him. “Only just. C’mon, Billy Goat Gruff, let me hook you up with the good stuff.”

Loki had hoped that the distraction of breakfast and coffee would make Stark forget his demand that they talk, but once they’d eaten a couple of the sweet treats, he tapped his fingernails on the polished stone of the high table he called a breakfast bar. “So, Loki-Doki, you wanna tell me your story? How did you end up in a crater on another planet causing snow in the desert?”

Loki closed his eyes for just a moment, put his pastry down on the plate and clenched his hands into fists under the table. “As you wish,” he said, his voice strained.

Stark frowned. “Hey, no, it’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me, you know? I just… thought it might…” He scrubbed his hair again. “I dunno, help? People are always asking me if I want to talk, I just thought it was the done thing, or something. You don’t have to.”

“No, I am yours to command.”

Stark made a face. “Not really, though.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Holy shit. Holy… did I say something? Was there a culture clash here? Have I like… I didn’t sign you up to be my indentured servant or some bullshit, did I?”

Loki peered up at him, surprised at himself that his head had ducked so low, that his shoulders were so hunched over. “You said you would give me sanctuary in exchange for experiments…”

“I did?”

“You did imply something along those lines, Sir,” JARVIS interjected.

Stark pressed his hands to his cheeks. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me, JARV?”

“I didn’t realise that Master Loki would take the combination of words in such a literal way. My apologies, Sir. And to Master Loki.”

Loki frowned. “You did not… but why would you take me in if not to-”

“I mean, sure, I wanted to study you,” Stark wailed. “But only if you wanted to find stuff out too, or like, show off… I don’t want you to be here against your will, holy shit, have I kidnapped you? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, shit!”

Loki blinked, shocked. Stark was apologising? To him? And in such distress! But Loki was nothing to him, here he was not even a prince, why would Stark care about whether or not Loki would choose to be with him? “I don’t… you do not have to…”

“I mean, I thought we were just gonna do some cool science together, I had no idea I was dragging you here like some sort of a threat, am I SHIELD in this situation? Oh my god, I’m basically Agent, guh, I’m gonna be sick, JARVIS!” He turned to Loki with wild eyes. “I am really, really sorry.”

Loki stared at him. There was a warmth in his chest, a spreading feeling he barely recognised. When was the last time someone had apologised to him? Someone of consequence, not a servant or a subject - and even then, they would always do so with gritted teeth. Loki knew he was unpopular. He’d never attempted to change that - it had always seemed so immutable a fact. Loki the trickster, don’t trust him, don’t listen, don’t spend any time near him in case he turns you into a goat.

“I would… I would like to stay,” he said, and he tried to hide a wince at how vulnerable his voice sounded. “I am interested in your science. In our differences.”

“Really?” Stark said, freezing in his distressed motions. “Are you sure, though? You’re not just saying that because I’ve, like, activated some hospitality clause I didn’t know about? You’re choosing to--”

“I am choosing, freely,” he said, swallowing and looking up at Stark. “If I am welcome, still?”

Stark’s face broke into a wide grin. “Hell, yeah, you’re welcome!” He let out a long breath. “Phew, god, that was awful!”

Loki’s lip quirked up. “Why was it so awful?”

“Well, I don’t know what life’s like on your planet or whatever, but we humans don’t like coercing other people.” He made a face. “Well, the non-assholes don’t. Yeah, actually, scrap that? I don’t like coercing people. I can’t talk for the rest of them.”

Loki grinned. “Your realm is not so different from mine, in that case. It sounds as if there are plenty of assholes in both.”

“I mean, honestly, I probably count as one of the assholes most of the time.” Tony shrugged. “Hey, do you want to go down to the lab now? I can show you the bots, and we can find out what your alien biology looks like on my holos.”

And just like that, Loki was reminded what he was, his freakish blue skin, the horns, the demonic red of his eyes. He held himself still, trying not to wince, trying not to react, for how could he explain this? He would just have to control his expressions, focus on the science. Because perhaps there would be something in Stark’s ‘lab’ which would help him to find his way back to his old - no, his true form.

But Stark stopped mid-sentence. “No? What? What is it? We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” he said, biting his bottom lip again.

Had he always been this obvious? No-one in Asgard would ever have noticed, but Stark had spotted his reticence at once - and Loki had been actively trying to hide it. Had his masks ever been as strong as he had believed? Or had nobody ever been truly looking? Loki stared at Stark, amazed at the perceptiveness of this small, sparkling mortal. “It’s…”

“I’m serious, Loki, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, OK?” Stark said, holding his gaze. “If there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop, no matter how far through the process we are, if there’s anything you don’t even like the look of, we won’t do it. And of course, I’ll put myself through everything you do - like, except for actually doing magic, ‘cause I can’t. Oh, and I can’t go into an MRI because of this,” he added, tapping the centre of his chest over the odd glow. “But you don’t have to do that either.”

Loki searched his face for any hint of a trick, any lie, and found only compassion. He swallowed hard. “I do not look like this,” he said, his voice nothing more than a croak. “I mean… not usually.” He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists and feeling the sharp, obsidian nails digging into his skin. “I was Aesir - I am Aesir. I must be. But… during my brother’s coronation, I just… this happened. I turned into this… this monster, and now… now my magic is different, cold…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, the fear sending icy tendrils through every nerve. He looked at the table and gasped. Frost swirled out from every contact point with his skin, and he jerked his hands back in horror.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK,” Stark said, holding his hands out, placating the beast once more. “It’s OK.” He took a deep breath. “Hey, I know we said we didn’t have to talk, but do you want to tell me about it? And then… maybe we can get you back to normal?”

Tags from last chapter: @aformingsiren, @sketch953, @massivelandthingdonkey, @angrysockpuppetnoises, @ultra-rare-pegacorn, @redramzi, @senpaiweird, @giggling-breeze, @rarepair-collector, @saturnjuice, @kuree06 <3

[my-love-peterp]

Mistaken Chapter Seven

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST DROP ME AN ASK

please like and rb/comment <3

Word Count: 4268

THERE ARE NO ENDGAME SPOILERS, THIS IS A DELAYED UPLOAD FROM AO3

Fic Summary: Peter Parker has been given the responsibility of bringing in a new recruit. Now, as an adult, he realizes that none of the trashy YA novels he read in high school could have prepared him for this. There was a storm on the horizon, and all they could do from the Tower is watch.

Chapter Summary: So this is definitely a chapter on my list of necessary revisions HOWEVER,  I’m writing one from some other characters POV just to shed some extra light on the circumstances surrounding what happens in this chapter. I think for sure we’ll get some Tony vignettes and maybe Steve and Darcy as well, just assessing Kaida and Tony and their states of mind (fragile, not great) and get into some motivating factors. Also, I know it’s a long time in coming but the big bad is coming soon. It’s not just Kaida vs herself as the main conflict in this piece. 

Warnings: drinking, smut, the like

Chapter One   Chapter Two   Chapter Three   Chapter Four   Chapter Five Chapter Six

The next day, I was reading the next book on my to be read list when Peter came screeching into the common room. “Cranewood!!” He practically shrieked as he ran, hips first into the back of the couch I was lounging one. He miscalculated his own speed and toppled over the back, faceplanting right into my lap.

“Oh my god, oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t-oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry I just totally invaded your personal space and literally put my face there and oh my god.” He cut his own self off and blushed so deep, the tips of his ears almost flowed red. Peter licked himself back up and adjusted his blue sweatshirt before running his hands through the hair on the back of his neck and refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Peter?”

“Y-yeah what’s up Kaida,” he managed to squeak out before coughing and clearing his throat, lowering his voice to compensate. I just stared back at him expectantly, dog-earring my page before slamming the book shut between my thighs. He blinked twice before shifting uncomfortably between feet. I swear, for an adult man, this boy sure acted like a gawky sophomore a lot.

“Oh. Oh yeah!!! We’ve met before. Cranewood School for Girls. Technically you and Spider-Man met but... I’m hurt that you were never even going to mention the first time I saved your life. What’s up with that? And also how did a Hydra ghost end up on Long Island at an elite prep school for upstanding young women and-“ I tuned him out unconsciously.

In truth, I had completely forgotten my run in with Spider-Man when I was 13. My sister and I were much too busy then still readjusting to a normal lifestyle we’d never had and covering our tracks while breaking enough laws to provide for ourselves, day in and day out.

Nadia had laundered enough money that We had more than enough for a down payment on a small apartment in the Long Island area and I was proficient enough in my mimicry and illusion work that we were able to enroll in school with a late start due to our “parents” and their extremely generous donations. It certainly helped that Nadia and I were both whip-smart.

I remembered the day Spidey was talking about. Some jack booted Hydra thug had stormed the grounds and held my class hostage, because his primary target, Anna, who was the daughter of a senator, was my classmate. Luckily, she sat about as far away from me as popular so the Agent was never able to see my face. I didn’t realize the whole upset was over until I had felt a large hand rubbing my back.

Of course, it was Spider-Man that came to my rescue. That day seemed to repeat itself over and over with no end sight. Of course, he was comforting me. His super hearing was the first power I’d ever assimilated by accident. We should test that more in the lab.

As I opened my mouth to finally suggest a battery of tests to Peter, FRIDAY started shouting instructions to be heard over the loud clang of the emergency bell.

Science could wait.

A few months later

The alarm cut through my concentration. It turned out to be just a bigger Code Green false alarm. We’d had two in the last week. I’m not blaming it on any specific individuals but there’s was something to be said in the 200% uptick in near Code Green’s since Dr. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, intern and mechanical engineer extraordinaire returned from Reykjavik. But who was I to complain? After the relocated to the Tower back in May, just three months ago, there were more Strawberry pop tarts in the pantries than I’d ever seen before in my life. And it was so relieving to have another ‘devil may care’ woman around the Tower.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Natasha for all that she is but she’s just a teacher to me. And Wanda read as more of a mom friend in my mind. Darcy is the kind of girl you make up desperate housewives drinking games with. We gravitated toward each other immediately, bonding over baking, needling Tony, and then bemoaning the lack of clubbing appropriate company. She also held no judgment for me about my past, which I couldn’t believe until I saw her and Bucky making googly eyes at each other from across the room, then it all clicked.

Darcy Lewis had become my best friend, big sister and closest confidant and just a week’s time. Now, a few months later, there were still no hydra threats and my probation was set to be lifted this evening. “The perfect time to go clubbing “ Darcy had declared it, before enlisting my strengths to remove, forcibly if necessary, the science squad from their labs. And then to force them out into the world of the living. The only member to straight up refuse was Tony, as was expected. We had been… Cordial to one another but never anything more. I am nearly positive he had Friday keep tabs on my location just so he could avoid me at all times. Inevitably, we would run into each other Coming and going from our quarters or as we made our way to and from our designated lab spaces. I still didn’t quite understand why Tony lived on the same floor as the rest of the Avengers when I knew damn well he had his own penthouse in the tower.

Anyways, my lab was certainly something to behold. The calling it my lab was a bit of a stretch considering I didn’t build anything really, I just tested my powers and checked my biological markers with gadgets that Tony, Bruce, and Dr. Helen Cho had come up with together. We were still waiting for a contact from a group called the guardians who would potential he be able to determine what part alien I am. But it was the world’s most high tech library/relaxation room/artist’s studio. All to make remaining in it all day for the sake of data aggregation tenable.

To say I was bored out of my mind at first was an understatement. But over time I began to have visitors. Darcy was a daily, and surprisingly, so was Pietro. Peter and Bucky also visited, if less frequently. And, oddly enough, Vision was there almost all the time. I asked him about it once and he shrugged (how does a former AI program shrug so effectively) and simply stated that my presence combed his mind. Whatever that meant.

In any case, I wasn’t as bored or lonely anymore. In fact, I could almost swear that something was developing between Pietro and I.

Earlier this week, as I was doing the Times word search and also project in my powers to deflect incoming projectiles, my hair was flipped up and into my face, causing my concentration to skip which led to a tennis ball smacking me right in the face. Above me, Pietro burst out laughing and DUM-E beeped apologetically.

“I don’t think I can forgive you for this,“ I deadpanned, reaching back to jab him in the kidney, which he promptly dodged, all the while still cackling. When his laughing fit finally subsided, he stood back up straight.

“I have an idea, “he announced proudly.

“Stop the presses everyone, and called the Vatican, Speedy here has an idea. It must be a miracle. First one in a decade. The world must be ending,” I replied, looking at him and trying not to smirk. I will give him props because the obscene shocked and hurt that filled his face moments later was almost convincing. He chuckled and moved to sit on the stool next to me. He said nothing, only staring at me.

“Okay Zippy, what was your big idea?”

“You haven’t tested your instinctual and biological responses enough. For example, the fight or flight instinct is recreated too imperfectly in simulated situations to be of any use to you. However, there is another way around that beyond throwing yourself into open combat.” I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue. He leaned forward placing his hands on my side and leaning closer. Hesitant but not opposed, my eyes fluttered chat. Instead of kissing me as I had assumed (hoped!) was his plan, I felt his lips brush against the shell of my ear. I shattered at the sensation, anticipating.

“I have a question “, he whispered. I mumbled my acknowledgment and it took me a few seconds to process what he had said and by that time it was already too late. “ are you ticklish,” he had whisper gently. Now he was mercilessly attacking my side with one, extremely quick fingers, whenever I moved to try to escape, he was there.

I collapsed to the ground, giggling breathlessly before I cut myself and put on my grumpy face. Pietro smiled lazily and shifted so his knees were on either side of my thighs.

“ if you tickle me again, I’ll scream,” I warned him.

“ I bet I could have you screaming my name,” he replied cheesily.

“ I actually hate you right now. I’m considering making you my official arch nemesis. I might make T-shirts. And badges. Definitely badges.”

“Who’s making badges? Didn’t you know nemesis badges are so last season? This is why you should consult the great and powerful Darcy on all things,” came the snarky voice of my best friend from the lab door. I urgently pushed Pietro up and off of me. But as was the theme of the day, I was seconds too late, and Darcy saw us in a position that looked extremely compromising without context.

She raised her eyebrows at me, cheeks twitching as she managed, for once, to hold back whatever retort she thought of once she saw me beneath Pietro. Instead, she readjusted herself and offered me a hand to pick me up off of the slightly dusty floor. I made a mental note to give DUM-E the Swiffer tonight.

After I was back on my feet and thoroughly dusted off, Darcy approached the silver-haired man who was currently leaning against one of my shoulder high bookshelves, jabbing her finger into his sternum. “You hurt my sister and I know an Asgardian who can make your life a living hell. And no, I’m not talking about Thor. Plus, you should be scared of me, I’ve bested him in combat once before and I can certainly take you. So watch yourself Maximoff,” she growled before stomping away, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me along behind her. “We’ve talked about this,” she hissed at me after her suite door slammed behind us. She’d been silent the entire elevator ride down to her floor. I loved Darcy but she was still a little paranoid about FRIDAY always being present and listening in.

“Darcy it wasn’t like that, he... tickled me?”

She snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, I bet he did. Looked like he wanted to do a lot more from where I was standing kid. I’m telling you he’s bad news. What do you see in him anyway?”

I scoffed at her insinuation that somehow, Pietro would be the rotten one between us. “Dee I was literally sleeping with Tony Stark a few months ago while I had intimate knowledge of his fiancés fate. Plus I’m not exactly innocent in literally any sense if the word...” I trailed off but she just glared at me, which was her way of telling me that we weren’t leaving until I answered all of her questions.

I sighed and plopped myself down on her cozy armchair, putting my feet up. “It’s just... he’s easy to be around Darcy. It’s not hard, I don’t have to think about anything twice, there’s no pressure. He’s funny, makes me smile, puts up with my shit. And he doesn’t want more from me than I’m willing to give. We’re as easy as breathing.” I blinked, shocked at the words that had just come out of my mouth. Sure, I would admit to having a crush on the guy, he was hot and snarky. I loved that. Wait, love? I really was losing my mind.

“You know what, forget anything I just said. Let’s go out clubbing like you suggested and find me a man to get under for the night. I have to blow off some steam. I’m delusional and sappy over here.”

Darcy shrugged, noncommittally. “What?!” I demanded, confused as all hell.

“If you really feel that way about him, you should tell him. He may not be pushing you to give more than you’re ready for, but is he going to be prepared to give you everything you want, or is he just here for the safe convenience of it Kaida? You two have been prancing around each other like orphaned fawns, afraid to let yourselves get hurt and calling it sacrifice for the other. Or maybe he just doesn’t care and wants to play dirty because you’re available and convenient. “

I was a little hurt at her words but I could see the truth behind them. It was time Pietro and I had a chat. But not before I went out and had fun with my best friend. I relayed that thought to Darcy who excitedly squealed as we plotted to get the Science Squad out and about with us.

That brings us to now. Several of us piling into the biggest limo I’d ever seen. Bruce, Jane, Nat, Clint, Thor, Wanda, Pietro, Sam, Helen, the super soldiers, and even Peter had elected to join Darcy and I out tonight. It was certainly going to be one for the history books.

Smushed as we were in the back of the vehicle, it was oddly calming. For the first time today I felt as though I had time to just think for myself. I brushed my hand along my inner left forearm and shivered as a chill climbed down my spine. The perfectly raised but horrifically off-kilter writing simply read ‘cereal?’ today. Not much to go on if I were actively looking for my soulmate. Not that I would.

Whatever being it was that decided that two halves, or sometimes thirds or fourths of the same soul, would be imprinted with the first and last words their counterparts said for that day, was a complete and total madman.

It wasn’t a whole lot to go off of. I knew they were older than me because I’d gotten the marking before I could speak and I was advanced for my age. I knew they were New Yorkers just by the way they’d mention certain places and things offhand.

But I wasn’t looking for them. It was fairly obvious to me, at that point, that becoming a fixture in my life was beneficial to absolutely no one. And, based on the blip of feeling or insight I’d get mentally from my soulmate bond, whoever they were had a strong sense of duty. Someone who felt duty bound to a person like me would only end up dead.

And yeah, maybe I was kidding myself and these were really just excuses to protect myself from losing more of the people I cared about but honestly who gave a fuck. There were millions of people in this city. What were the odds we’d even run into each other?

Too high. But there was nothing I could do about that.

And then, after what felt like hours, the car stopped and the group spilled out on to the sidewalk before scrambling to the door of the club, bypassing the line. It was one of the classier, more exclusive establishments in town but not too high brow to preclude any riff-raff.

Cue Darcy Lewis, the bane of all rationality. Darcy’s personality was that of an instigator. I, on the other hand, would never back down when challenged. That meant five tequila shots in five minutes in addition to getting three random numbers. Just for fun. A few shots later and Darcy hauled me on to the dance floor.

We writhed and twisted around each other, alternating between cackling at one another and concentrating on looking appealing and feeling sexy. Her hands roamed my body and rested on my hips as I playfully ground myself back into her.

I could see Natasha posted up in the corner, sipping a sea breeze and keeping her eyes open. Bruce stood a few feet away from her, nervously twitching but slugging back some whiskey. Clint was at the bar pounding back beers with Helen, Jane, Thor, and Sam. All seemed deeply invested in a manic take the Asgardian was telling, arms flailing and making weird shapes as he attempted to act out whichever feat of heroism was on tap for tonight. Wanda stood behind them but looked a little lost. That’s when I noticed that Pietro and Peter were both missing.

Peter was easy enough to find, he was perched next to the top of the stairs, keeping up surveillance of the entire place, the boy having no idea how to relax. I was about to mention Pietro’s absence to the brunette behind me when the wind rushed around me. Suddenly, I wasn’t on the dance floor with Darcy but back at the bar with Pietro.

“What the fuck dude,” I bit out, slapping his arm. “You can’t just speed someone without permission, it doesn’t work like that.” Pietro just shrugged and smiled lopsidedly. It was the kind of smile that got him off for everything. And now was no exception.

“But Kaida, you promised to show me what body shots were some day. I would like to do them now if that is okay. I still have not learned all of your silly American customs.”

I was just gone enough to nod eagerly while my body flushed hot. Body shot demonstrations were requested and so they would be done. We started simple, cleavage shots, I showed him with Darcy and then he practiced on me. His scruff scraped pleasantly against my overheated skin and I trembled. Then Darcy whispered salaciously in Pietro’s ear as I rested up against the bar. In a flash, Pietro‘s hands were squeezing around my hips and I was laying on top of the bar, shirt hiked up.

Tequila was poured and salt sprinkled around my Navel by Darcy freakin' Lewis, who, just hours earlier, had scolded both Pietro and I for our touching antics. But now, here she was, encouraging Pietro to haul me on to the bar. Before I could process that emotional whiplash, Pietro’s face was hovering over my stomach, a wicked smile filling his expression. I squirmed and he responded by dipping his head, using his tongue to swipe up the salt from my body before continuing down and sucking on my navel, slurping up all the tequila. My body was positively on fire. I opened my mouth in a breathless moan and nearly choked when my best friend shoved the rind of lime between my teeth. Her face was quickly replaced by Pietro’s. His eyes burned into mine, his pupils were blown, dark and hungry. He placed his mouth over mine, biting down surprisingly gently so lime juice with a hint of a taste that must be pure Pietro flooded my mouth. Icy fire burned through my veins as I completely forgot the discomfort of the hardwood bar pressing against my back. We were drawing closer and closer to each other as Pietro decisively removed the line from my mouth.

The trance was broken by a cough and a throat clearing. The Spiders Two, Peter and Natasha, were standing behind Pietro, arms crossed. Nat’s face was expressionless, but Peter‘s emotions were somewhat clear. He looked uncomfortable, annoyed and something else I couldn’t quite get a read on. My mouth fell open in a drunken grin, as I waved awkwardly to them, attempting to lift my head and slide off the bar and to my feet. Unfortunately, I was still more than a little boneless from the whole “Pietro‘s lips and tongue on my body“ situation, so, while I did manage to slide off the bar, landing on my feet and my high heels was a whole different story.

Long story short, I simply didn’t. Fortunately, when you’re friends with other enhanced people, their reflexes are typically pretty good. So I felt long, pale arms lock around my middle and stop me from falling. I grinned widely again at the feeling of thick ropey muscles encompassing me.

As I righted myself, the arms remained around me, hints of spicy cologne filling my nostrils when I slouched back into the warm body that stood behind me, closing my eyes and tilting my head back to nuzzle into Pietro’s neck. His breath caught and he let out a weirdly high pitched squeak in surprise.

“Oh shoot,” I stammered reflexively, looking down, “did I step on your foot or something? I know these heels can be a bitch.” It took me a minute to realize why what I was seeing felt so wrong. Instead of the tight black jeans Pietro had been wearing that night, my rescued had on dorky khakis and a blue button up. Peter.

“Fuck, Peter I didn’t know it was you, god damn I like almost assaulted you there. I’m so, so sorry. Jesus Christ, no more tequila for me ever.” I just kept rattling off apologies until he waved me away and Darcy took my arm to lead me out to a cab that was pulling up for us. It was time for me to go home, so Clint was being sent with me to supervise and make sure I made it back to the Tower in one piece and then he’d take one of Tony’s cars to drive back to his farmstead. “I’ve gotta take the kids to school tomorrow. Laura has a doctor’s appointment and I’m trying to be a good dad. You know, the whole nine yards. Or at least as good of a dad as a world-renowned assassin can be.” He ended up using the ride to babble on TL me about everything Nathaniel was getting up to at the moment and the big fiasco when he found out he was named after a girl and the killer meltdown when his parents rebuked him.

Clint deposited me in the elevator and hit my floor for me before he took off to the tunnel leading towards our parking garage. For the first fifth floors, everything was silent save for the occasional squeak of a gear or run of a pulley. Until the elevator stopped on one of the lab floors. I should have realized at that moment that all but one member of the Science Squad had been out that night, but it didn’t until I saw him step into the elevator beside me.

We stiffened simultaneously as Tony and I took the other in. Taking opposite corners, we studiously ignored each other as the elevator began moving. It was uncomfortable and deafeningly quiet, but that was probably more than I deserved. And then, as though whatever cosmic being had a direct line to my thoughts coupled with a sick sense of humor, the elevator froze, the lights went dark and an alarm started blaring, quickly followed by the emergency sprinkler system.

So to recap, I was trapped in a metal box, in the dark, being pelted with cold water, quite similar to what my parents used to do to Nadia and me.

It was at this moment that I had my worst panic attack to date. The sharp sense of panic cut down whatever buzz I had built up from the night before. Pure unadulterated terror flooded my chest as I collapsed to the floor, twitching. My chest heaved with silent sobs, my trauma reminding me that if I made a sound, Nadia would be punished and vice verse. Tears streamed down my cheeks and bile coated my throat. I could hear tony working frantically to desired the elevator panel and talking at me. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t matter. I was too far gone.

Minutes, maybe hours passed. Before I could think clearly, I was entirely disassociated and then sleeping in a wet puddle on the floor of our stalled elevator.

When I woke up the next morning, I was in my own bed, drowning in an oversized hoody that I recognized as one I had stolen from Bucky weeks ago, that if I had to guess, he had originally stolen from Cap. It was royal blue number with a vintage style logo for the Brooklyn Dodgers, whose move was still a sore spot for Steve Rogers.

I sat up groggily, head pounding. As I finger combed my hair and stood to use my restroom, I heard gently snores coming from the plush sectional in my living room. Lo and behold, the Tony Stark was slumped over, not even under a blanket. The events of last night all came flooding back to me and I flushed a bright pink in embarrassment. I’d never shown just how deep that particular weakness ran for me. I turned back and tried to tiptoe out of the room and down to the communal floor for breakfast when Tony’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“I think it’s time we had a talk.”

TAGLIST: @peeterparkr @private-bucky-barnes @laurfangirl424 @bucktitybarnes

[nancywheelxr]

if I could save time in a bottle

"Alex needs a break.

No, really. She has so many accumulated vacation days, she could take the month off to hole up at her place and only open the door for the delivery guy bringing her takeout.

Because this, this, is above her pay grade.

“What is this?” She asks because someone, someone, in this high-level military facility has got to know. “Well?”

From outside the room, Brainy bangs– no, sorry, knocks– on the glass doors again. “If I may, Director–”

“You may not,” Alex cuts him off, because it’s almost noon and she’s heard at least four version of that particular speech already."

or, Winn manages to shitpost through space and time, Brainy learns an inside joke all on his own, as told by Alex, who mostly just wants to quit on this whole babysitting gig

Alex needs a break.

No, really. She has so many accumulated vacation days, she could take the month off to hole up at her place and only open the door for the delivery guy bringing her takeout.

Because this, this, is above her pay grade.

“What is this?” She asks because someone, someone, in this high-level military facility has got to know. “Well?”

From outside the room, Brainy bangs– no, sorry, knocks– on the glass doors again. “If I may, Director–”

“You may not, ” Alex cuts him off, because it’s almost noon and she’s heard at least four version of that particular speech already. “We talked about this. Indigo could travel through the Internet. We’re not taking any chances.”

“Yes, but–”

She levels him with the kind of glare that used to make Winn spout whatever nonsense he had been told to keep from her, and it works, mostly, as Brainy stops himself with a chagrined face, and Alex ignores the aching on her chest reminding her Winn isn’t here anymore. “You are going to stay away from this thing until we figure out if it’s safe or not, got it?” He rolls his eyes, but nods, fidgeting awkwardly on the doorway. Good enough. She knows how to pick her battles. “Great. Now, anyone wants to start talking?”

One of the scientists, a nervous-looking woman, straightens from where she had been examining the sealed cylinder and adjusts her glasses before speaking up, “I believe this is made from some sort of metallic alloy, possibly ferrite, but we are still identifying its components.”

“It’s a faraday cage,” Brainy calls loudly from the hallway, “possibly made out of dark ferrite– an alloy of ferrite with an alien metal that will not be discovered until the 27th century, but I should not tell anything else, as Mon-El says spoilers . But it’s still considered in the 31st century as the most effective material to protect against electromagnetic fields.” He pauses, head tilting slightly to the side, and Alex sighs. “It would shield whatever is inside from any external interference in any wavelength,” a nod to himself, “therefore, I determine it safe from any technological tampering. I shall take it from here!”

So above her pay grade. The team of scientists handling the cylinder all glance at each other, sharing uncomfortable looks.

Before Brainy could override the door locks and stride in the lab, Alex jabs a finger in his direction. “Whoah, there.” The last thing they need is for Brainiac’s AI plague to infect the past too, or, worse, infect Brainy, after he willingly marooned himself here to escape it. Kara would be upset. Lena, too. And even Alex, she supposes, would miss him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” he says, once the doors slide open, “I calculate a lower than 0,012% chance of this being infected with Brainiac-1’s plague. It is, as you would say, as safe as it gets.”

Alex would most definitely not say that, but you know what? Fine. It’s not like any of their scientists were having any luck in opening the cylinder or figuring out what it was supposed to do. It’s probably not a bomb. She really hopes it’s not a bomb. “Don’t take it out of confinement,” she warns him, just in case, because he’s got the same look on his eyes that Kara and Winn would get before going off to do something stupid. “And be careful, we still don’t know who sent this, or how.”

Brainy waves her off absently, already sitting down at one of the workbenches to take a look at the thing. Since it had been brought to the DEO early this morning, after landing somewhere near Shelly Island, Brainy had been tinkering around with it, but when it became clear it had somehow come from the future, Alex had declared it quarantined.

She had to admit it, though, the baffled look on his face as he recognized the strange object had been deeply satisfying. His subsequent sulking– no, sorry, a twelfth-level intellect being does not sulk– as she banned him from the lab, on the other hand, had nearly driven her up the wall.

Now, Alex only sighs again, there’s so much paperwork she should be doing instead– she understands, now, the tired, long-suffering way J’onn always carried himself. She’d say it comes with the job, but she’s pretty sure it’d looked a lot less fond before Kara and the others. “Brainy–”

Whatever it is she had been about to say, she’s not sure herself, dies before it’s even fully formed, because the cylinder shrieks with the terrible high-pitched cry of metals creaking, startling Brainy into dropping it on the tiled floor with a loud clank. The room holds its breath as it rolls lazily in a circle and one of the ends drops down like a lid.

“What did you do?” Alex narrows her eyes at the alien, ignoring the scientists looking around like spooked gazelles. She swears to god, they should be more used to bizarre things falling down from the sky by now. And, besides, if it were a bomb, it would have already gone off.

Once again, the conversation is cut short by the cylinder acting up. From inside it, what looks like a small pebble rolls out, stopping a few feet away and unfurling and beeping loudly.

Okay, maybe she should reassess the bomb thing–

“Captain's Log, Stardate 43198.7,” Winn’s voice carries before the image can shimmer into life, glimmering as the hologram is projected against the wall. The tiny projector whirrs and it comes sharply into focus, showing Winn sitting on Brainy’s chair at the Legion Cruiser, still wearing the clothes he left on, but a delighted grin is splitting his face, even as he struggles to keep a serious, somber expression. “We have entered Klingon Space, but no signs of enemy ships as of yet. Lieutenant Ardeen, status report?”

“All clear, Captain,” the camera pans out, showing Imra sitting at one of the stations, also fighting off a smile, and saluting Winn with the wrong hand. Then, she gasps in obvious fake surprise, “oh no. It seems we picked up a distress signal!”

“We must answer it!” Winn says, dramatically spinning on his chair, “it is our duty and our mission, to boldly go where–”

The image shakes, going out of focus for a second, and Mon-el walks into view, his cape fluttering behind him. He stands in front of Winn, looking between him and Imra, clearly trying to hide his own amusement, “guys, come on. Star Trek again?”

“It is fun,” Imra shrugs, her laughter echoing like wind chimes in the spaceship, “Winn has shown me this– what it is called? TV shows! And it’s absolutely delightful! And we do have another hour until we reach Earth again.”

“Yeah, man,” Winn leans back on his chair, uselessly trying to grab the smooth sides when it sways, and coughing awkwardly to mask it. “Relax, okay? It’s on autopilot, look.” He waves the blue controls madly around in his usual flailing, “this baby is going straight to Earth, 31st century, no pitstops, not even for snacks– by the way, why is there no food in here? And by that I mean, junk food, not whatever that is on the– I’m assuming it’s the fridge?.”

“There is no autopilot–”

“Whaat? Dude, of course there is, that’s like the first thing people build in any kind of vehicle no matter what century it is, trust me, people are lazy.”

“Yes,” Imra comes to stand beside Mon-el, still smiling, “I think I have seen Brainy use it before as well.”

“But,” and now Mon-el frowns like he’s being told Christmas was canceled, “he said there was no autopilot, that’s why I couldn’t drive it!”

“Well,” Winn drawls, drawing out the vowel in the annoying way he always does and Alex absolutely does not miss, “seems like your bro just doesn’t trust you with his ship. I mean, this is a pretty sweet ride. Like, the Porsche of ships, probably. Although, I haven’t seen that many ships, so, I can’t really judge right now, so, yeah.”

“I think it is because of the time Mon-el crashed the old cruiser into a moon,” Imra nods sagely, patting her– husband? Ex-husband?– comfortingly on the shoulder. “Neither Lyle nor Brainy have quite forgotten about it yet.”

“That was not my fault–”

Then, the camera catches Winn’s attention, causing him to squint at it, “I think this is actually recording, hang on.” He takes it to examine it and Alex leans back as the close up of his face is projected on the wall, followed by the shining white floor of the ship, but, because it’s Winn, he keeps talking, “where is it, where is it, come on. Who had the brilliant idea to delete the tiny red light? How am I supposed to know– it is! It’s recording! Ha, look, we’re vlogging! Hey, you know what we should do? We should send it to–”

It cuts off there, the small projector whirrs again, beeps, and curls back into a ball.

And Alex is left staring at the blank wall, trying to process everything.

She isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or to cry, so her body settles without her permission on chuckling wetly, her chest aching in the familiar way it always does when she lets herself admit that Winn had been Kara’s friend first but he had wormed his way into her heart like an annoying little brother she never got to have, and now she misses him fiercely.

Brainy is the first to move, bending down to pick up the tiny projector, and now that Alex feels less like a balloon is about to burst on her lungs, she notices she and Brainy are the only ones left in the room. He frowns down at it, and Alex remembers, suddenly, of his confession that he too misses his friends. “I do not understand what these Star Treks are, but I assume it is yet another movie reference,” he sets it down on the workbench beside the cylinder and the lid, “or what vlogging is. But I believe we should call Supergirl and the others?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Alex shakes her head, pulling up her phone to text them, “they will want to see this. I can’t believe Winn sent a message from the future.”

“I have to admit I am surprised as well,” Brainy says, his hands forming the triangle in front of him in his usual way, “although, I suppose there is little reason for us to be. I would not have sent Winslow to take my place in the Legion if I did not believe him to be remarkably qualified for the task.”

That gives her pause. That was a compliment if she’s ever heard one, and coming from Brainy it’s practically high praise. She’s not sure she’s seen him talk about anyone like this, except maybe Kara, and that’s mostly because Mon-el instilled some hero worship for her in all the legionnaires. “Is that so?”

“Indeed,” he nods, the suspicious tone in her voice clearly going way over his head. Alex wonders if she should outright ask him about it, but dismiss the idea. If anyone had asked her about Maggie before she had come out, she would have denied it until she went blue in the face. Maybe waiting it out is the best right now, especially considering, well, their situation.

She’s still mulling over it, when Brainy huffs a laugh, which is a strange sight all in itself, as humor is more often than not completely lost on him. He notices her confused look and laughs again, gesturing the cylinder, “I believe this is what you would call an inside joke, is it not?”

Her lips twitch. “An inside joke?”

“Yes!” He gestures the projector, “it is a message,” then the cylinder, “on a bottle!”

The memory of Kara’s dangerous mission to Fort Rozz, so many months ago, when they were all still learning how to work with each other, is hazy, fogged by her worry over Ruby and the bone-drenching fear her sister had barely escaped with her life. She hadn’t been there at the time, busy looking after Ruby, but she remembers Winn smirking victoriously as he told her the story afterward over the rim of a beer bottle at the bar.

But knowing Winn, and knowing Brainy, Alex thinks he might be right on this. It sounds like the kind of unnecessarily complicated joke he’d enjoy. So, she smiles what she hopes is a supportive smile, “well, look at you, making inside jokes, already!”

Brainy clears his throat, seemingly unfazed, but Alex’s been working with him for the past couple of months, she can see the proud set of his shoulders and the pleased look on his eyes, image inducer and all. “This is fairly new for me, I confess I’m not sure how to proceed.”

These people are going to be the death of her, Alex is sure. She might not have Kara’s bleeding heart, but come on. “Usually, here on Earth,” she tells him, “when we get a message– a letter, an email, anything like that– we answer. So, I’m assuming if Winn can send us a message, we can send him something back?”

“It would be logical, yes,” he agrees, twisting the lid back to close the cylinder, its walls seemingly smooth again. “If one possessed the knowledge of how it worked in the first place, that is.”

Hold on. “You don’t know how to he did it?” Oh man, Winn would never let him live it down if he were here. “But can you figure out a way?”

“Of course,” Brainy scoffs, sending Alex a look that said exactly what he thought of her doubting his ability to know everything that is to know under the sun. Under all the suns. “It will not take long, I need only to run a few tests, trace what kind of radiation it encountered on the way, perhaps– I shall investigate further on my lab!” Alex narrows her eyes, and he backtracks, “in a lab! An entirely arbitrary laboratory in this facility, chosen completely at random out of the fifteen different workrooms presently active on this building, and not, say, on a lab appropriated for personal researches and experiments.”

Alex raises one eyebrow, “of course not,” she fights off a smile, swallowing down her amusement. “That would be something I’d have to report to Colonel Haley, and she would have it shut down.”

“Which would be an unfortunate ordeal, yes,” he clears his throat again, squinting at her in a way that Alex thinks he might not have completely understood what she meant, but maybe gotten a general idea. “I must start now, then.”

The glass doors slide open, and Alex watches as Brainy gathers the cylinder on his arms as if he’s afraid it will shatter at the slightest touch, and winces when he leaves, announcing in a loud voice, “ah, this completely random laboratory is adequate, I shall use this one!”

Alex wonders if she can assign herself a week of license, it doesn’t even have to be paid.

[calliecat93]

Top 5 Things I Liked About RvB16: The Shisno Paradox

Yesterday, I posted my Top 5 Things I Disliked About RvB16. I don't like talking about negatives, but I had things that I wanted to talk about. I did my best to be reasonable and fair,, and I hope that those who read it had an enjoyable read. But the good news is that with the negative out of the way, I can now talk about the positives! Yay!!!

As I said in the Dislikes post, I think that this was a good season. It has issues, and I do understand why some didn't like it even outside my problems with it. Bu I ultimately had a really fun time watching it and it left far more good impressions on me than bad. Plus no matter what, positive feedback is just s important as negative since it lets the showrunners know what they're going right and even they deserve encouragement. That's what I like to do, encourage people.

So without further ado, lets begin!

#5. Expanding the series mythos

I know that adding the Cosmic Powers didn't catch on to everyone, and I understand why especially before the AI reveal came out. But even before then... I was okay with having Gods and more mysticism. Is it different? Yeah, and with how the show had always been sci-fi for over a decade and a half, I can get how jarring it came off. But for me personally, I was with going this route. Why? Well... first, I always like that kind of stuff. I like mysticism and fantasy, so seeing RvB indulge in it I thought was cool and could even be funny. Now that one is pure personal taste, of course.

The other reason though? It's because the universe was FINALLY expanding. For nearly all of the series run, it had been attached to Project Freelancer. I don't know about anyone else, but I was ready to see new stories. With Church dead for good, Freelancer pretty much dead, and with Wash and Carolina now having some form of closure and now having new developments open, if the show wanted to keep going then it was going to have to try some new stuff. I kinda see this move as a back to basics move. Back to when the show was absurd, illogical, and just plain crazy. Remember, Church being an AI wasn't planned, he really was just a ghost initially.

This is what I can see something like Blood Gulch doing if it had the budget and wanted to do more character development. And there IS an explinaiton to it. The Cosmic Powers are AI stored in the Monitor Body that Caboose put Epsilon in. Which remember, Epsilon had a bit of a God complex during that time. It explains where the 'shisno' slur came form, the Cosmic Powers used it to describe the prophecy and the Aliens adopted into their vocabulary. It only adds new mythos, but explains and uses bits of old gags form RvB as a starting point like Recollection did with Blood Gulch. That is the kind of writing I like, finding little things to expand on, even if it wasn't planned to be.

It was just cool for me. It expanded RvB;s universe, using old things and creating new mythos form it. But most of all, this opens the door to new stories and character development opportunities. It adds to the possibilities, not limit them. With how several ongoing plots have closed the door, I was ready to see new ones open since there was still plenty of potential to bring out. Is it more out there than it has been in a while? Yeah, that's a fair point. But for me? It was enjoyable and nice to see new orotundities open. Lets hope that even more spring up in the future~

#4. Tucker and Sister Plotline

Okay, okay, I know that some had MAJOR issues with this. Mainly in regards to how Tucker's character was handled. He was an asshole, narcissistic, and really entitled about Sister. I know that MANY had issues with this, especially when taking into account his character development during the Chorus Trilogy. If you feel that way, I respect your opinion and I'm sorry that it felt like it was a downgrade. But... this is my opinion, and as I said during the season... I thought it was what he needed.

While Tucker HAS developed and become a good soldier, we never really saw him get over his womanizing and ego issues. He took his responsibility more seriously and become a better fighter who can and will jump to the call when needed. But he's still always been a narcissistic moron. It made sense to me, especially in Episode 4 when he and Sister talked about wanting to go back to the “good old days” where Tucker didn't have to worry about anything anymore. Back when things, like friends getting shot, just kinda resolved themselves with no consequences. With what happened to Wash and now being able to live out those days again... well, Tucker took it and it was understandable why. I admit, as I said in the Dislikes post, it could have been been emphasized and clarified MUCH better, but you can still spot it.

I felt that this was the natural next step in Tucker's development. For him to recognize that in the good old days, he was a pretty sucky person. He can't go back to that, as Sister made clear. Sister was THE perfect character to pair with him for this, and she also benefited from it. To me in S5, Sister was an unnecessary late addition that really only advanced Grif's character (and even then only slightly) and was just a way to add more s*x jokes. She was a wasted character imo... until now. While she's still overly s*xual, there's a sense of experience and maturity to her as well. She's had her own shit going on and yeah she wants to get away form it, but for her it seems more like to have a breather than to ignore her responsibilities. And really, she handled Tucker's behavior MUCH better than I would have.

Sister became a character. Not just another excuse for s*x jokes. Not just for Grif's character (even if I wish they DID have some more moments in this), she was a character for herself. She didn't take Tucker's shit, and she ultimately threw in his face everything wrong with his mindset when he disrespected her. She wasn't cruel, but she was upfront and honest and later after cooling down, she had a calmer talk with him. Tucker NEEDED someone to throw his shit in his face, which to my recollection while some showed annoyance, no one ever called him out for it. This was the first time that this trait got put in a serious light, kinda like Grif's laziness and hatred of work last season. I thought it was VERY effective... sure the paradox may have undone it, but it was still something that imo was a long time coming.

Was the plotline perfect? No, and I can admit that even I got annoyed at Tucker and was hoping that he'd shape up. But at the same time, for a character to develop, sometimes we have to see them in a negative light and not like them for awhile. I didn't like Blake in V4 of RWBY, but I knew why she was written like she was and in the next two volumes I adored her more than I ever had before. I'm hoping that once the paradox stuff is fixed, that'll be the case for Tucker. But ultimately, I found their plot fun, it made me like Sister as a character, and I felt like Tucker got some long overdo focus on his more... problematic traits in a way that made sense. I hope that whatever happens with Tucker next will be more satisfactory for people, but in this case, it was for me.

#3. Donut became a character again

This kinda ties into the last one. You know how I just said that Sister finally became a character? Well she wasn't the only one. Donut... holy shit, DONUT.

Now this case differs form Sister as Sister was mainly the victim of unfortunate timing. Because she got added in S5, the final season of Blood Gulch, there simply wasn't time to do anything with her. Donut though... has been around since the beginning. He was at first some regular rookie, then after he got the Lightish-Red armor he became more flamboyant and dense. But his optimism compared to this teammates and being shown to have SOME competence (remember, HE killed Tex the first time), he was able to stand out. But after Blood Gulch and because he had to be shafted so much, he became less and less important and eventually just became the source of gay innuendo jokes. S15 even forgot to add him to certain scenes. Donut... really had no point anymore, and no one seemed interested in doing anything with him, even pointing out how he gets the short end of the stick and forgotten so much.

Well, clearly Joe listened because ho boy, he went and turned that around! While Donut wasn't in the majority of episodes, what we did get very much left their impact. You feel nothing but terrible for him. While he's a gullible idiot, he was sincerely trying to do what he thought was the right thing and help his friends. Friends who, as per usual, don't care or belittle him. The difference? Donut gets annoyed by it. Before, Donut didn't really react, or it was ignored. Now? Nope! He recognizes his treatment and is tired of it. This adds layers. It shows that Donut DOES recognize his treatment and that it DOES bother him. But at the same time, we see that he still cares for his friends as even when mad at them, he makes sure that Chrovos agrees for them to be safe. That really shows his devotion that they sadly have yet to realize.

For a long time, Donut had been both my least favorite Red and my least favorite of the Blood Gulch. Why? Because in my view, he had zero purpose. But this season completely turned that around. Donut got to show competence again. How the others treatment of him does effect him, but not in a way that makes him look unsympathetic. You can tell how Chrovos' manipulated him and understand how he fell into it outside just general gullibility. And they did so without getting rid of his past character traits, so if you did like Donut you don't lose that. And then the finale... well we'll get to that later. Joe said in an interview that he realized that since no one did anything with Donut, he could do essentially anything, and by golly did he. IDK where he stands on my Character Rankings, but he's now Number 3 on the Reds list (2 is Simmons and 1 is Grif, for those wondering), and hopefully the momentum with him just keeps coming hard into S17!

#2. Grif Development

While Donut had some good development, the character who by far had the most and the best is Grif. Last year already did a good job in having him get fed up, quit, realize that he needs his friends, and go back and help. The only downside is he spent the majority of the season off-screen. This time not only does his development take the natural next step (addressing his hatred of adventures and how he tends to try and avoid/complain about things), but we get to see it in full. To compare, last season Grif was in nine episodes out of 21. This time out of 15 episodes, he was only absent for one. So we get to see the Refusal to the Call in all it’s glory! Whoo~

I've gone on and on about Grif's development several times. I even did a huge ass analysis on this and S15. But to keep it on this season solely and in trying to summarize as much as possible, Grif's development was perfectly done. This was him trying to avoid the plot in favor of going after pizza, no matter how much shit gets thrown at him. But he of course, keeps failing at every turn and only makes it worst on himself. He doesn't try to fix the problem, he just keeps his focus on this pizza, and then provoking it's existence, until O'Malley happens and he's stuck with Huggins. Now of course, it's understandable why Grif does this, he's been through various adventures and just wants to do something mundane for once. And as usual, the universe just refuses to let him and it's affecting him.

After getting backstabbed by O'Malley and stranded though, Grif meets Huggins. She's a very positive, but stable character who at first he wants nothing to do with due to her being connected to everything that he wants to avoid. But once he comes around out of necessity, he... improves himself. Not only does Huggins win him over with her positive personality and really his own boredom, but Grif starts talking about his problems and how he feels stuck. Through most of S16, he's been shown as angry, frustrated, and prone to fits, including shooting at others. Something he wouldn't really do otherwise. And a lot of it seems to be because he didn't have a proper way to cope outside his inner circle. He needed someone to talk to not connected to his daily life and who can point out his flaws, but give him positive reinforcement and steer his focus in the right direction. Huggins did that by befriending him, listening to him, and pointing out how just avoiding and complaining about the problem does nothing. Grif clearly doesn't like hearing this... but he DOES listen, and he DOES shape himself up.

After Episode 9, where he and Huggins have those talks, Grif changes his attitude. Sure he can still be annoyed, but he's not complaining or trying to ignore the problem. He gets everyone else to focus, gets some kind of reward for his efforts with the Sword, encourages everyone to listen tot he Cosmic Powers word, and his attitude is overall more positive and lax. He's joking around, he's not lazing off, he's trying to get things done and fix the problem. And after finding out about Wash, while Grif does go along with the plan, you can tell that he was weighing the options and he does feel genuine guilt for pretty much betraying Huggins. But Wash is his friend, and as S15 showed in the end it's his friends that come first, the consequences be damned.

Grif has really, REALLY benefited from these past two seasons. A lot of his behavior has been given a more serious light, and in turn it’s given him more depth. Joe has actively tried to give him development, and damn he has done an awesome job. Grif's arc has been fantastic to watch, and add it to Geoff's absolutely perfect performance, and you've got a great arc that I'm hoping continues into the next season. This was almost Number One, but was just barely edged out... kinda. 

What is Number One? Well, no point in stalling. Here it goes.

#1. The Finale

I guess putting an entire episode on here is kinda weird, but there's a reason. The four things I already listed? This is the culmination of all of those, and so much more. This hits all of those points very well. The mythos goes into effect with Genkins efforts and the resulting paradox, leading to what we can only assume is some altered timeline. While Tucker and Sister's stuff isn't quite prevalent here, it is Tucker accepting his missteps and his care for Wash that leads them to where they are and he shows his competence again, and Sister before got him out of his funk while having a much more civil talk to him. It's where Donut shines at his best, deciding to stick by his friends, fight O'Malley through time, and have what may be the most badass fight sequence/moment in the show. And Grif's development comes at full force as he puts all the pieces together, faces Genkins, ignores the pizza because of the mission, and once he realizes the reality of what's going to happen, he goes to stop it. It's futile, but hey he tried.

This episode was just executed so perfectly. Aside from Seasons 10 and 13, this may very well be the best season finale in the show. I mean the Donut vs O'Malley fight alone is frekain' amazing. Cinematic, well coordinated and animated, uses multiple sets and uses them to their full, and still had plenty of humor in it. It was just amazing with a frekain' great payoff. But even outside it, there were some great moments, For example, Simmons pretty much coordinating everyone in taking out the Blues and Reds. Yes, Simmons. His development has always been subtle, so seeing him step up after getting some encouragement form his future self was just fantastic. Really, the finale tied in essentially all the plot points, even the stupid ones, very well. Which is what any good finale should do, and they did so in a very effective way. When it was over, I was just left numb. I felt more numb than I did when RWBY V3 ended, and I was a mess after that. Suffice to say, it did it’s job well/

And of course, there is how it ended. The ending leaves so many questions for the next one, but it ends S16 so perfectly. The bad guy essentially wins and the reset with everyone's memories gone and Genkins replacing Church is extremely concerning. But it really ends the season well and hammers in the point. Don't screw with the past. You can't change it. You have to focus on who you are now, not who you were then. The Reds and Blues didn't do that, but their reasoning is very understandable and canon left implications that just maybe everything will be fine if they save Wash. They were wrong. Now, as the song says, everything is f*cked up. Can they remember and fix it? What's in this new timeline? What is Genkins going to do nos that he’s in power? 

As the saying goes, only time will tell.

And that's the list! To me, this was a super fun season that left me satisfied and wanting more. I know that it didn’t catch on to everyone, but for me as someone who was watching an RvB season as it was airing for the first time, I had a ton of fun watching it. That’s what matter sin the end, having fun. It gave that to me, especially since I was going through some pretty rough times during it. It helped me get through those days, and I am always going to be grateful to it for that.

On March 9th, RvB Season 17: Singularity will debut and pick up form where we left off. Do I have concerns? Maybe a little, but so far I've enjoyed Joe and Jason Weight's work. I have faith in them to deliver something unexpected but good. No matter what though, I plan to see the end through. Because you do not do a finale like that and not expect me to not come back. So S17, bring it on!

Thank you all for reading, and I hope that this was a fun read! I’ll try to get some more RvB stuff out before the season starts, so keep an eye out. Until then, I'll catch you all next time~

[apveng]

Time Out! (From Saving the World!)

So... hey! Long time since I posted an unaired scene fic.. But, something about this past episode made me want to write about Kara and Alex again. Don’t get me wrong. I liked the episode! But, there was something missing...And, I felt like adding it. And.. here you are!

Okay.. confessions first. This could very well be a Danvers Sisters fic as well. I just refrained from using “sis” (deliberately deleted it...) so that my kalex friends can enjoy it too... It is up to you how you view it.

It is a tad bit long.. So, not sure what you will make of it.. But.. yeah... Read on, if you feel like..<I couldn’t proof read; so not sure if there are any mistakes.>

It was midnight… and despite the excitement of the past few days, the DEO was quiet. It should have been peaceful… except… Alex could never feel at peace when she didn’t know how Kara was.

After recovering from the parasite’s attack earlier in the day, Kara had left Alex with a hug and a relieved sigh… and barely a sentence about how happy she was to have Alex healthy. Since then, there has been no sign of her.

Of course, everyone had been busy after that what with the discovery that Lena was possibly the next target of Purity and then the eventual realisation that Sam… Sam!!! Rao!!! ….was Reign and Lena had been keeping her contained in lab to run tests on her.

Alex had come to know what happened from Winn and had rushed to check in to see that Kara was okay.

And Kara was nowhere to be found… She had left Lena with Winn and J’onn to settle in at the DEO, after reassuring her of course—she wouldn’t be Kara if she hadn’t done that.

Where are you Kar! I know you are beating yourself up over what happened… Don’t do that! It is not your fault.

If it was anyone’s fault it was Alex’s. To think that she had actually ran test on Sam and found nothing. And, her having a speciality in alien physiology. Why hadn’t she done a more thorough check on Sam? Checked her genetics and cellular structure for god’s sake. Every geneticist should have thought of that.

Why hadn’t she?

And now, Kara was paying the price.

She was also probably heartbroken that Lena kept such a dangerous secret from her. May be thinking that this might not have happened if only she had confided in Lena about her own identity.

Alex paused on the way to the sparring room.

No! Kara would not be there punching things… despite Mon El’s and Winn’s suggestions and commentary about how angry she looked.

That is what Alex does. Not Kara.

Kara would be up on the roof looking at the stars… Because that is what she always did when things got difficult… or… when she got lonely!

Alex turned and raced to the roof, ignoring the startled glances of her fellow agents on the way. They didn’t matter. Only Kara did.

There Kara was… leaning against the parapet, her eyes on the stars… A wistful expression on her face… Oh how Alex hated seeing that look of longing.

Damn! Lena!

No! Damn her for not finding this out soon enough.

“Hey!” Alex greeted tentatively.

Kara stiffened for a second before relaxing and looking towards Alex with a smile. “Hey! Not going home, yet?”

“And… have Winn and Brainy bring down the DEO fighting over some obscure tech from the future? Not a chance!”

That brought out a chuckle. Still… the slight stiffness to her stance remained.

What can she do?

Alex stepped forward to apologise. To tell Kara that what happened was not Kara’s fault but Alex’s. But before she could say anything, Kara took her hand and pulled her to her side.

“Don’t say anything please!” Kara said softly as Alex settled by her side. “Just stay here.”

Not letting go of Alex’s hand, Kara went back to studying the stars… And, Alex settled by her side… leaning into her so that she knew Alex was here to talk if needed. That she had Alex’s support.

After a minute, she started tracing the constellations with her mind… remembering their teenage years when the two of them used to sneak out and look at the stars together.

It was so peaceful like this. Just the two of them. One could almost forget that there were superpowered beings out there that wanted to destroy their world. That wanted to destroy Kara.

“I miss them!” Kara said after a while.

Kara rarely talked about her parents. Alex knew that it hurt her still to talk about them. It was all right to talk about Krypton... And when they were kids Kara used to talk about the life there often… But about her parents… About the people she lost… barely a peep. It has improved slightly over the past couple of years; ever since Alex made Kara that room with her mother’s AI. But, not by much.

Alex rubbed the hand and arm that held her own. She had no words for this.

“I sometimes think.. if only I had been older, I might have been able to save them… If only I knew something…”

“Kara…”

“If I had you there with me… may be. We would have found a way…”

Alex’s heart ached… To hear her speak thus…

Come on Alex! Say something!

“Ha! May be you should have had Brainy there with you. Or Winn.. Or J’onn! I am not sure I’d have been much help… I didn’t even know what was wrong with Sam!” Alex could never forgive herself for that. She chuckled to hide her discomfort, and shrugged as if she didn’t care.

“Alex, stop!” Kara’s focus was away from the stars now. And completely on her.

Kara pulled back a bit and scanned Alex’s face, and Alex tried not to flinch from her scrutiny.

“I am sorry.” She said finally.

Alex raised an eyebrow, surprised. Those were her words.

“It must have been such a shock for you to learn that Sam is Reign! And, here I was wallowing in anger and self-pity and fear while I should have been checking in on you.” Kara’s forehead had come together in that crinkle that Alex so loved.

Alex shook her head. “I am fine… It is you I am worried about. Learning about Sam… Finding out that Lena knew about Sam… They are your friends not mine… I know that is why you are up here… But.. you can’t blame yourself Kara. You can’t. It is not your fault… If it is anybody’s fault...”

“Will you stop?” Kara, interjected looking a tiny bit exasperated.

“Yes. I feel guilty and sad that Lena had not confided in me…” Alex nodded in understanding.

“And you have no idea how angry I am that the Worldkillers got away because we didn’t know where Sam was…”

Yep! Alex shared her anger.

“But Alex…” Kara brought up the hand that was holding Alex’s to her shoulder, rubbing her arm in the process. And probably to further the effect, or may be because she was scared Alex would turn away—Ha! No chance. Not when she was focused like this—she brought up her other arm and held Alex in place.

“… I am not up here because of that… I am up here because of what happened with you…”

“You mean, because I missed identifying what was wrong with Sam?”, Alex ventured.

Kara sighed and shook her head… And then, rolled her eyes as if Alex didn’t know anything. Alex decided that she would point out her stellar work record later. Right now, she needed to know what Kara was thinking.

Kara took a deep breath and then said softly. “No silly! Because I nearly lost you today.”

“Oh!”

“Do you know how scared I was? I couldn’t even bear standing near you. It made me feel…” Kara shuddered… “…so helpless…” She looked away for a moment before coming back to Alex. “…just like the time when my parents put me into that pod…”

Alex pulled her closer and rubbed her back to soothe her. “I am sorry Kara. I should have been more careful.”

“Will you stop saying sorry? You couldn’t have known Grace was pestilence…” The look of exasperation, and was that affection, was back on her face.

Alex gathered her thoughts, trying to find something that’d settle Kara. Somehow, the knowledge that Kara was here because she had been worried about Alex soothed her. At least she wasn’t here beating herself up for Alex’s mistakes. Everything else, they can manage together.

“I am better now! You found pestilence and helped Brainy cure me. And Winn. All of us!”

“I should have kept an eye on you while we were at city hall…” Alex interrupted Kara right there.

“Wait a minute! You didn’t know who pestilence was either… So right back at ya!”

“Okay.. but…”

“Nope! No buts!” Alex shook her head vigorously. “Or, are you saying that you are better than me because you are Supergirl!”

“What?” That came out as an exclamation and Alex couldn’t help feeling smug. Distraction achieved.

“Of course not! You know very well that I…” Kara stopped and narrowed her eyes. “You are terrible! You are just trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Nope!” Alex said solemnly hoping that Kara would get this part. “I am trying to make you understand that nobody could have predicted what happened… or stopped it from happening… What happened was not your fault Kara. You just found a solution for it…And…” she paused and then said firmly, “I am here now! And I am not going anywhere.”

Kara smiled and relaxed. “I will hold you to that promise.”

Alex pulled her close again… She had pulled back to show her indignation…

“Always!”

“Just as a reminder…” Kara said as they settled back to star gazing side by side…”What happened with Sam is not your fault either.” Apparently, she had not forgotten Alex’s words from earlier. Alex’s heart swelled at that.

“Alex!” Kara shook Alex slightly… “Are you listening?”

“I am!” Alex smiled and then, rolled her eyes… “Enough talk about sad things... Let me tell you something worth celebrating! Did you know that NASA is sending InSight spacecraft to Mars shortly?”

“Really?” Kara’s face lit up. “Does J’onn know? Why do you think they have never discovered any white Martian there? Do you think they destroy any probes Nasa sends? Or.. No! May be they just rig it so that it sends false images….”

Alex grinned and settled down for a good discussion.

And they spend the rest of the night there… Studying stars… Talking about everything and nothing… and feeling safe and happy because they were together.

They can go back to saving the world tomorrow…

Notes:

I forgot what Alex called that squiglle on Kara’s forehead. Feel free to tell me. Edited to replace quirk with crinkle. Thanks @venus-kareng.

I am pretty sure the show will forget to address how Alex would feel about Sam and failing to identify what was wrong with her.. So wanted to add that... Not sure if I did a good job of it.

From how little Alex seems to know about Kara’s past (she didn’t know about Daxam or about the Kryptonian meditation technique), I thought she probably was reluctant to talk about her parents. But okay to share about science and tech and other stuff. Though she did at times. It kind of makes me feel that there are so many places their relationship can still go. So much potential growth.. And so many conversations... Both of them are still hiding a lot of pain that they could talk about.

I am hoping they did get some time out because things have been happening very fast for the past few days (Earth 38 days) and it doesn’t seem as if any of them have had a moment’s rest.

I completely forgot while writing this that Kara had fallen ill as well. Anyways, it has no relevance since Alex never knew about it. What was the point of it anyways?

It’s rather long.. I got carried away. Sorry.

Thank you for reading.

[ehyde]

A Void Between Two Stars

Chapter 3

Fandom: Akatsuki no Yona Series: Alien Larp AU Wordcount: 8253 (so far), projected to be about 25k total Characters: Suwon, Judo, Keishuk, Minsu, Zeno, Kyoga, Yonhi, misc OCs Ships: there are several spaceships

The latest installment of my sci-fi au, in which Suwon is an AI leading Kouka in a rebellion against his former extraterrestrial masters. When the connection between the AI and its human host is severed, Suwon–both of them–must learn to live as only half of himself, while Judo faces the challenge of trying to figure out which one, man or machine, is truly his king.

For more info about the AU and other works in the series, check out the series masterpost. Thank you to @greymantleish for beta reading!

Keep reading below the cut or read from the beginning on AO3.

He didn’t sleep again that night. Or perhaps he did, unknowing—it felt like too little time passed, but this body could not keep accurate time, after all...at any rate, he was awake when dawn broke and a servant brought the morning meal he customarily took alone.

All through the night, Won—easier to think of himself as Won than Suwon while he wasn’t fully himself—had searched for a solution to his problem, and still it eluded him. His mind kept turning to other worries. Normally, of course, he could think through whatever caught his fancy, but a human brain could only do so much. He didn’t have time to wonder when or if he could have opened up to Minsu, to wonder if Judo was resting as ordered. Those weren’t priorities...were they? He certainly didn’t have time to worry about the headache that had never quite faded away, or what it might mean. It shouldn’t be like this. With such a limited, human brain, shouldn’t not thinking about things be easier?

He needed his power core. That was his priority. It was out there, and he had hostages...it should be so simple!

“Your Majesty?” Minsu’s voice and a tap at the door greeted him. “You have a...very strange visitor. I should probably turn someone like this away, but…” He paused. Won opened the door so that he could come inside and speak in private. “He says he came on behalf of Princess Yona.”

Princess Yona, who had been in orbit in a ship of her own. It wouldn’t be impossible to land without computer guidance, and if she had, that meant there was a ship within reach. “Show him in,” Won commanded.

“Yes, sir. You’ll be ready by then?” Ready? Belatedly, he realized he hadn’t changed out of his sleeping clothes. “Though he was nearly naked when he arrived, so it hardly matters in this case,” Minsu muttered as he bowed and left the room.

Image did matter, though. Won knew that. Even if he wasn’t truly Suwon, even if his visitor had arrived at the palace...wait, naked? That made no sense. He spent so long trying to puzzle that out that when Minsu returned, he still wore only one layer of his robes. His guest, Yona’s yellow-haired companion, wore a tunic identical to Minsu’s, and might look less out of place than Won did at the moment.

“Ah, it’s been a few decades since Zeno’s worn this uniform! Thanks, lad! Now the boy won’t scold Zeno!” With that, Minsu departed once again.

“Ouryuu,” Won greeted the dragon with a nod.

“Hi, Mister Compu—” Ouryuu stopped. Stared. “Ah, you’re not! I suppose Zeno has to call you big brother king then!”

There was something about Ouryuu he knew, something important. What was it? “Ah, and Mister Computer was supposed to have a long life, too. It’s too bad!”

“I’m not dead,” Won said sharply. “Ouryuu, why are you here?”

“Oh! It seemed important. Zeno wanted to find out what was going on. See, Seiryuu noticed a big ship that was trying to hide. It was taking Mister Computer’s eyes and Seiryuu didn’t like that.” He looked into Won’s eyes. “Neither did the miss. So, it’s a good thing Ryokuryuu had practice being a pirate!”

“You...stopped them?”

“Well, mostly. But our ship got damaged so we had to take theirs and then one of them escaped in their little ship, and it turns out the big one can’t land, and even though most of the metal boxes are still there, we couldn’t talk to anyone. So Zeno decided the best way to find out what was going on was to come down here and ask.”

“...without a landing craft.”

“Ah, Zeno jumped!” He laughed. “Zeno thought it would just be like falling a really long way…”

“Instead, you became a shooting star.” Ah, yes, that was what he’d forgotten about Ouryuu. Useful. “Did it hurt?” he heard himself asking. A pointless question. He didn’t have time for pointless questions.

“Zeno’s fine now! Although, Zeno’s really hungry! Big brother king won’t mind—?” He reached for a bun from Won’s untouched breakfast plate.

“Communications are down,” Won said. “How are you going to report back?”

“Oh, if Zeno writes a letter really big and goes up to the roof of the castle, then Seiryuu can read it!”

“That’s…”

“Well, Seiryuu can copy it for the lad to read. Seiryuu’s still learning!” No, that wasn’t the piece that shouldn’t be possible. Though no more impossible than for Ouryuu to survive falling to earth from orbit without even a suit. “Seeing you gives Zeno most of the answers he needs already,” said Ouryuu. “Ah, Zeno’s glad Mister Computer will be okay! But,” he added, “I’m glad I was able to speak to you, too.”

Won was glad, too. More than glad. Ouryuu’s story, disjointed as it was, had given him hope again. His satellites weren’t gone. His enemies had been subdued. He should probably thank Yona...ah, no, she wouldn’t want to hear that. He remembered that now, too. “The landing craft,” Won said. The final piece he needed to formulate a plan. “When it got away—did it land?”

“Yep,” said Zeno. “If you find it, give Zeno a ride back, ok?”

Won nodded. He could do it now, he was sure of it. He finally reached for the cup of tea that sat waiting for him, long since cold, and then pressed his fingers against his skull, trying to ignore the still-aching pain. He would be himself again. He would.

Judo did, finally, sleep. He woke at dawn and went to the training grounds, as was his custom. But the king had been right—one side of his body was stiff and sore, protesting with every step he took. Luckily, he wasn't here to practice his usual sword katas.

He usually avoided training with his own blast rays. Even after seeing them in action—feeling them in action, now—they just didn’t feel like weapons in his hands. But now, with who knew what future waiting for them, he had to be ready.

And...they didn’t work. “Damn!” he shouted, drawing a few startled glances from the few soldiers training this early. It really did get everything, didn’t it? The attackers last night, they’d had nearly identical weapons. The prison guards must have put them somewhere—but now the flow of his training was ruined. He fell back into his sword katas with a scowl on his face, and after one stumble too many, finally had to admit that he was getting absolutely nothing out of this.

As he stomped back to his office, he met the king coming from the opposite direction. “General Judo, there you are.” Suwon looked every inch his normal, confident self—the only thing out of place in the picture before him was the black-feathered Keishuk at the king’s side. Judo couldn’t tell if the fact that the aven still wore his normal clothing made him look more or less alien—he’d cut off the sleeves of his robes, but the long winglike feathers on his arms had nearly the same effect, and everything else, up to his now-functionless hairpiece, remained the same.“Come with me. We have work to do.”

Thank god. “You have a plan.”

Suwon nodded. “Our prisoner can give us everything we need.” Judo’s heart began to sink. After last night, he wasn’t so sure about that. “Just follow my lead.” He handed Judo a translator as they approached the prison cells, and Judo noted that he did not don one himself. That was a good sign, right? Whatever knowledge he’d lost, it wasn’t everything. Maybe this could work. Computer or not, Suwon seemed like himself again, and Judo trusted that whatever he had in mind, he could pull it off.

The lead aven—Judo still hadn’t learned their name, and didn’t intend to—was a mess. Their feathers were dirty and bent out of shape, and bloody bandages covered more than just their wrist. Suwon shot a glance at Judo, who shook his head. He hadn’t left them like this—but the palace guards did not look kindly on would-be assassins, let alone those who were monsters.

“You!” the aven growled as Judo, Suwon, and Keishuk stepped into the dim candlelight. “This is barbaric! When the Company hears how we’ve been treated—”

“Yes,” said Suwon before Judo could speak. “I should have done more to ensure you received proper care. I was not myself last night,” he added. “As you are well aware.”

“If this is an apology, then why is that here?”

“I did not come here to apologize. I came here because you’re still useful to me. And General Judo is here because you know exactly what he is capable of doing to you if necessary.”

“What makes you think—”

“You want to leave here, don’t you?” Judo frowned. Just what was Suwon planning? “I want to send a message to the Company. But you’ve taken my satellites, and my agents’ ships—” all two of them, but the aven didn’t need to know that— “are out of reach. I will allow to return to your landing craft, go back to your people and seek medical treatment, if you deliver a message for me.”

“Computer!” Keishuk protested. It seemed that he didn’t like the sound of this any more than Judo did. “After what they tried, you can’t possibly expect them to help you! You’re not operating at full capacity—” As Keishuk spoke, the aven prisoner seemed to grow more confident—and that was when Judo knew that Suwon’s plan, whatever it was, was going to succeed.

“I’m keeping your guards here as hostages,” Suwon continued, ignoring Keishuk’s objections. “You must have planned on a location to meet your landing craft. Summon it, and I will escort you there.”

“...why not confiscate my ship and send one of your own people?” the prisoner asked.

“What people?” Suwon asked. “This isn’t something a human can do, no matter how much knowledge I’ve given them. And I need Keishuk here. Warn your friends, of course, if you’re worried about that.” A ridiculous concern, his tone said, and the aven seemed to agree.

“I’ll do it,” the prisoner said. Quick to agree—they thought they were getting the best of the situation, and Judo still couldn’t see how they weren’t. But whatever Suwon’s plan was, the aven was playing right into it. “My hand,” the prisoner demanded. “You kept my hand, didn’t you? On ice?” Judo gaped at them. They’d really been serious about aven doctors sewing it back on!

“...oh,” said Suwon. “I wasn’t thinking clearly yesterday. You understand.”

Even after this, the aven tried to push their luck, asking Suwon to simply let them go rather than escort them to the landing site. But when Judo reminded them that it was for their own protection—that any off-duty soldier who saw a monster wandering free might not hesitate to take their head—they shuddered and didn’t ask again. Keishuk shuddered, too. Suwon allowed the aven to send a brief message via one of the confiscated communicators—no conversation, of course—and then, reluctantly, the aven agreed to lead Suwon to the landing site.

A military cart carried them high into the mountains above the castle, but they had to abandon the cart and travel the last hour on foot. Judo rethought his earlier caution—no one, soldier or otherwise, would have stumbled across them by accident out here. The forest shade scattered the day’s bright sunlight, and Judo almost mistook the shimmering metal hull of the ship for a mountain stream. The only other space-ship he’d seen was the one belonging to Lady Lili’s companions, and this was much smaller.

As the ship came into view, the gleam in their prisoner’s eye was impossible to miss. Judo almost pitied the other aven guards, who they undoubtedly planned to abandon—almost. Then the door of the ship slid open. The monster standing inside was not aven—it was some sort of furred beast, with ears like a cat. Was there no end to them? “Arouk!” cried the monster. “Thank the balance you came. The natives, they had some weapon—they took the carrier—I’m the only one who…” She trailed off, ears twitching in confusion, as she registered the others who had met the ship. “Arouk. What—?”

The aven spun around to face Suwon, feathers flaring in outrage. “You—you knew! You tricked me!”

The cat-creature drew a weapon and fired, but Judo dodged it in time. He didn’t know what sort of force the aven—Arouk—had expected to find waiting for him, but one creature was easy to subdue. He took her weapon and bound her wrists. “We’ll take the shuttle back to the palace,” said Suwon. “Keishuk, can you pilot?” With a nod, Keishuk stepped inside, then Suwon and Judo led their two prisoners before them.

Outside, the ship had seemed to be made of solid metal. From inside, nearly half of it was transparent. Judo had known of ships like this for half a year. He’d never been inside one, let alone flown...but he could marvel at the novelty sometime when he didn’t have prisoners to guard. “So you were toying with me?” Arouk asked. “What you said before is still true, you know. There’s no one you can spare to use the ship.”

“This shuttle is what carries your pulse weapon, is it not?” Arouk stubbornly didn’t budge, but the other prisoner nodded. “Once I learned you used it for multiple attacks, on the satellites too, well—its power source is exactly what I need.”

“But—your message—”

“Oh, I think my message will be quite clear,” said Suwon. “Don’t you?” He looked from Judo to Keishuk, then stared out the wide window at the earth below. “I’m sorry for including you in the deception. Every time I tried to put it into words, the plan fell apart in my head. This human mind is still…”

“This—” the new prisoner began with a start. “This is the AI?”

“He’s not the AI!” Arouk spoke to the new prisoner, but looked directly at Suwon. “He’s an infuriating human who thinks he’s the AI. I don’t know why you’re doing this,” he continued. “Powering up the computer won’t make you part of it again. Your nanobots are dead. You have to know that. You should be happy you’re free.”

“Enough.” One word from Suwon was all it took to silence them. Judo stared at Suwon. Free? He wouldn’t question his king in front of their prisoners—but there were suddenly so many things he needed to ask.

“Your Majesty—”

“We shouldn’t keep them in the dungeons indefinitely,” said Suwon as he, Keishuk, and Judo left their two prisoners with the palace guard. Onlookers—courtiers and soldiers alike—crowded the courtyard, staring at the ship in awe. Even after Lili and several other aven tourists had spoken publicly, the rumors of the monsters’ near-magical technology had been met with doubt. Well, here was their proof. “Every offworlder is an important prisoner. Perhaps an estate near the city…”

“Your Majesty—”

“Ah, yes, Keishuk, I trust you to handle the reboot. Some of these soldiers can help you dismount and move the power source.” They’d already left the courtyard behind, but he gestured as if the soldiers were still right behind him. “Oh. I don’t...I’ve forgotten the name of the craftsman who can help you with my circuitry. I…”

“Minsu can look that up, computer,” said Keishuk. “While I admit that level of detailed soldering and wirework is beyond me—just what were you planning to tell the man? The work has to be done in your chamber.”

“Ah…” Suwon paused, then brightened. “Minsu knows enough to explain what’s needed.”

“No, he does not,” Keishuk countered. “He doesn’t know—”

“He is not to know that it’s me!” said Suwon sharply. “But he knows enough to explain you. Tell him...tell him whatever seems fitting.” Keishuk sighed. “If you go into the city, I suggest you wear a cloak,” he added, unhelpfully.

Keishuk looked as if he wanted to speak again, but he only sighed, turned, and left. Whispers followed him. Rumor must have spread through the palace—it seemed everyone knew who he was, even if they watched him with suspicion.

“Now, Your Majesty—”

“Until Keishuk is ready, I have several mundane tasks to take care of. I’m going to my room now; you need not follow.”

Dammit, the king was definitely avoiding the subject on purpose. “Your Majesty, are you going to address what just happened, or not?”

“We got the power source we needed. I don’t know what else there is to discuss.”

“Dammit, Your Majesty, are you going to be yourself again or aren’t you?”

They were near the king’s chamber, now. Alone. Suwon slumped to the floor. “I don’t know,” he said. “My nanobots are fragile. If the pulse hit them...but we weren’t in the castle. We were in Kuuto. It isn’t certain—” He lifted a hand to massage his temple as he spoke, and  Judo remembered the screaming pain in Suwon’s head. Uncertain, is it? “But I’ll be functional again soon. I’ll be myself. Whether or not I can reconnect to this body, I’ll still need it to act as king, so…”

But you are this body. The computer was still offline. Everything the king had done over the past day had been just this body. Of course he was— “What did that aven mean by “free?” Judo asked sharply.

“Find out what equipment Keishuk needed from the university,” said Suwon, ignoring the question. “You can ride out to get it.”

“Your Majesty—”

Suwon stood up, straightened his robes, and looked Judo in the eye. “Go,” he repeated.

And because Judo knew that the man before him was still his king, he left.

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Won’t Say You’re Sorry Chapter: I (II / III) Fandom: Red vs Blue Character: Lavernius Tucker, Vice Admiral Christina Odan | Tucker’s Mom, Captain Arlene Volt Summary: This had to be the present day version of dropping your kid off on the steps of high school, calling them 'buga-boo-boo,' and giving kissey faces in front of their peers much to their eternal embarrassment--expect the stricter, navy version, a giant space ship, a planet, and none of your kids' actual peers.

God if Tucker didn't miss his mom, though, embarrassment aside.

Don’t Write Me A Postscript (I / II / III / IV / V / VI / VII / VIII / IX / X / XI / XII / XII)

Do You Even Feel Compassion? (I / II)

It started not with a whimper, but a bang. Tucker stared up at the sky, pale and ashen and sick to his stomach, and watched the pelican explode with his son on it. He’d only just gotten used to the fact that shit he was a father—and sure his kid was born out of a strange mix of alien impregnation and rape—but he was a father. No matter who much he’d joked with his sisters and his dad back home about the number of bastards he’d probably sired, he never actually had a kid before. He’d never been responsible for one before.

Now—now Church’s fucking girlfriend took his kid—took his kid and then—then Sarge placed Andy—fucking Andy—on that same ship and just—Tucker felt sick to his stomach. He felt weak in the knees. He didn’t know what to do or what he needed to do. A part of him wanted to just burst the sword into being and stab it straight through Sarge’s fucking face.

(his lower back throbbed)

(he refused to think on that)

With a snarl Tucker pushed past Caboose, pushed away from the moved grip—almost shoved Sister—and stormed back into the base without a word. He could hear Church whisper, “Tex?” and all Tucker wanted to do was scream.

It wasn’t just your damn girlfriend, Church!

What about my kid?!

What about my kid?!

Tucker’s footsteps grew faster until he practically ran through the base, ripped his helmet off, and bent over double in front of the toilet. He heaved; he collapsed to his knees and, alone, let the tears fall as he heaved. After years in this godforsaken army not once had Tucker felt like this. He felt carved out and desperate and his chest hurt. Tucker heaved and threw up and cried messily in the bathroom for what felt like hours.

When he cleaned himself up, and for the days after, everyone moved as if they were on auto-pilot. Tucker didn’t speak to Church, and Church didn’t speak to Tucker. That, in the end, was just the way Tucker wanted things to go. It was all Church’s fault, anyway. Church’s fucking weird mess with Freelancer and his girlfriend and all the crazy, insane bullshit they were forced to go through. All for goddamn Church.

Tucker hated that fucking asshole. The bastard didn’t even have the gall to say sorry.

When the pelican ship arrived to pick him up and take him off to his new assignment, Tucker left in silence. Normally he would’ve had his usual banter with Church, a while means of communication they’d come to create between themselves and their time at Blood Gulch, but now? With how infuriated Tucker was, with how dismissive Church was—with Sister and the bullshit and their goddamn relationship like Tex hadn’t even been a thing to Church; like the mess hadn’t even happened—Tucker kept quiet. Even though Church stood and watched him off, Tucker kept quiet.

The asshole didn’t deserve his words. Not anymore.

The doors to the pelican finally slid shut, and Tucker could feel the engines rumble beneath him as they took to the air; finally he relaxed. One hand slipped down to the hilt of his Sangheili blade—

(mine)

—and then he breathed out explosively when yet again he realized that it was gone.

Tucker’s lower back twinged and he closed his eyes and slapped his head back against the wall of the pelican. One of the soldiers manning the pelican glanced over to him and Tucker noted that she wasn’t in power armor. He thought for a minute to crack a joke, throw a pickup line, but ever since Junior had been kidnapped and killed he just didn’t have the heart in it.

“Sir?” Tucker tilted his head toward the soldier to let her know he was listening, even as he mouthed ‘sir’ in surprise. “I have been instructed to inform you that the Captain orders for helmets at the very least to be off outside of live fire situations.”

From behind his helmet Tucker frowned. “That sounds like I’ll be ship bound,” he said slowly.

The soldier nodded her head. “Yes sir.” She had pretty eyes, Tucker noted. His back twinged again and he sighed explosively.

“Fine.”

The helmet released with a hiss and the subtle lick against his neck from the neural implants faded back into obscurity. Tucker shook his head to rid his ears of the ringing and then pulled off the armor over his hands to properly dig his fingers into the back of his neck just above where the implants ended.

“Does your Captain want me to completely undress too?” Tucker drawled. His lips quirked up as he spoke, especially when he caught the way her cheeks reddened slightly. Damn he had to be looking good for that, not that Tucker doubted for a moment.

“No sir,” the soldier said, evenly.

Guess I’ll just have to try harder to ruffle her feathers then, Tucker mused. He tugged off his other glove and massaged around his neck, careful to brush at the edge of circuitry and skin. While it hadn’t been too long since he’d been out of armor—just a mere hour or so, in fact—Tucker wasn’t above playing up how pleasurable the action felt. He let out soft, faint groans because why the fuck not? He might not have the heart for flirting, maybe even hooking up, but damn that blush didn’t signal some primal part of his mind.

Bow chicka bow wow, Tucker thought. His lower back burned and he had to pull his hands away with a faint grimace. He shook his head, tried to get rid of the thoughts that bounced around in it, and instead tugged his gloves back on. The helmet Tucker settled into the seat next to himself and glanced over at the beautiful, pale-eyed creature who, dare Tucker say it—nay, think it?—looked disappointed. He shuffled, let his legs slip open as he settled his arms across the seat and watched her with ‘bedroom’ eyes. He watched how her eyes dipped down toward his codpiece and smirked.

Ah, there we go.

“Sir,” she said, slowly. “I feel I must warn you.”

“What about?” Tucker drawled casually.

“Well…” the soldier started slowly, and she drew out the word enough that Tucker felt his grin grow from ear to ear and a thrill of something for a moment forgotten raced through his veins.

“Well…” Tucker drawled back out, and then opened his mouth to shoot of something more when the sudden rock of turbulence caught him completely off balance. He let out a yelp as he practically flew from his seat onto the metal of the deck with a shrieked, “Fuck!” to the laughter of the lone soldier.

“Well we’re about to hit atmo,” she twittered, and Tucker groaned.

“So. Not. Cool,” he said, face still pressed down into the metal of the ship. He pushed himself up and pinched at his nose. “Is it broken?” he whined, and she shook her head.

“Buckle up, buttercup,” the soldier laughed. “It won’t be long before we’re docked aboard the Viper’s Nest.”

Tucker flopped back into his seat and frowned; he winced when his nose throbbed and glanced at his gloved fingers distastefully in search of any bleeding, before he looked back over at the soldier. “The UNSC Viper’s Nest?” Tucker asked. He let his hands fall into his lap. “Flagship for the tenth fleet?” The resulting grin from the soldier placed lead in his stomach. “Sonnovabitch.”

(he knew this had been too good to be true)

Ship Captain Arlene Volt looked over the readouts aboard the bridge stiff backed and lips pressed together. She waited for the word to come through that their package had safely made it aboard, gaze focused steadily on the rotating planet they settled into orbit around. She tried rather hard not to think about the person at her back, the intimidating presence and sole reason why the Viper’s Nest even was at this backwater outpost of a planet.

“Captain, dropship is finishing up docking procedures,” one of the technicians chimed up, and Arlene relaxed minutely. She glanced over at the Vice Admiral.

“And our package?” Arlene questioned.

“Safely onboard,” the technician said.

The Vice Admiral let out a huff, the only sign she’d even heard the technician, as she turned sharply on heel.

“Ma’am?” Arlene quickly fell into step with the older woman.

“Send word to route Lavernius to my office,” the Vice Admiral said stiffly. “Then, once docking procedures are finished, continue with our headway.”

“Ma’am,” Arlene nodded and branched away. She shared a quick glance with the ships AI who watched the Vice Admiral leave the bridge, before Arlene made a quick gesture for him to relay the Vice Admiral’s commands.

“Frightening woman,” Deckard said carefully as he manipulated the ships systems.

“At least you rarely talk to her,” Arlene said tiredly. “I don’t even want to fathom what a Project Freelancer Private did to get on her list.”

“I’d imagine being born would suffice plenty,” Deckard mused, and then vanished just in time for Arlene’s hand to swipe through his hologram. “Really, Captain Volt? I am nothing more than a hologram projection, you know.”

Arlene grumbled. “Makes me fucking feel better.” Arlene settled in front of the large map that took up a good portion of the bridge. “This is our last unexpected stop, right?”

“Correct,” Deckard reappeared in front of the map. “After this we should have a fairly straightforward trip back into Earth’s space.”

“We won’t need to anticipate some sort of reaction from Project Freelancer for poaching one of their military fodder?” Arlene questioned. Deckard shrugged his shoulders.

“It seemed rather like Project Freelancer was all too happy to hand over Private Tucker,” Deckard said. “No projected issues on that front.”

“That…is not a ringing endorsement,” Arlene sighed. “Suddenly I’m far more worried about this Private then I was five minutes ago.”

Deckard flickered out of view and reappeared in view a second later. “I ran through the records. Private Tucker is a flirt, but relatively harmless. Surprisingly bright. With these tests scores he could’ve easily received an officer rank within the UNSC Navy, maybe even fast-tracked to FLEETCOM. Hm, wonder why he got relegated to Freelancer military?”

“Who knows?” Arlene shrugged. “Maybe he has a cognitive defect.”

“That would be in his medical file,” Deckard pointed out.

“Whatever the reason,” Arlene turned around and stared back out into space with a frown, “this Private is nothing but trouble. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Deckard flickered away. “So you say, Captain.” A soft alarm rang throughout the entire ship for all of a hot second, followed by the announcement that the ship would be entering slip space within five minutes.

Arlene pressed her lips together. “Definitely trouble,” she grumbled. Arlene did not look forward to Private Lavernius Tucker being aboard the Viper’s Nest—not one bit.

[illumynare]

Red vs Blue Fic: I'll Tell You My Sins and You Can Sharpen Your Knife (1/4)

Summary: Locus understands why Kimball would want to keep him alive long enough to testify at Hargrove's trial.

He doesn't understand why the Reds and Blues would volunteer to protect him.

Parings: None. Warnings: Canon-typical language, tons of drippy angst.

Notes: Also available on AO3!

When Locus takes Agent Washington to Chorus for medical treatment, he knows what it means. Agent Washington will live. And Locus will be executed for his crimes.

He had hoped for more time to make things right. But it’s an acceptable trade.

Instead, they put him into solitary confinement.

As the days wear on, Locus starts to lose track of time. He's always hated chatter, but now the silence presses down on him like a weight, crushing him into a daze.

This, too, is acceptable. If they leave him here to hate himself alone forever, that is still better than he deserves.

When the armored soldier breaks into his cell to kill him, Locus would accept that too. But he recognizes the standard-issue Charon equipment. He fights for his life, because there are too many people who deserve to kill him first.

He lives.

Two days later, Kimball hands him over to the Reds and Blues.

#

"Yeah, apparently Charon really wants you dead before you can testify, and we were all kinda getting tired of giving interviews anyway, so we volunteered to go hide you somewhere until the trial, and this is gonna be awesome," says Grif. He's jiggling a little, bouncing on his feet.

Locus stares at him, feeling dazed. He doesn't think he's been in solitary confinement for more than two weeks, but he feel like he's already forgotten how to speak to another person.

"Agent Washington," he says. "What is his condition?"

He'd been stable two weeks ago, Locus had gotten that much out of Kimball during his interrogation. But he hadn't heard any more since.

As soon as he asks the question, though, he knows the answer: Agent Washington is all right.

If Locus had failed to save him, the Reds and Blues would not be helping keep him alive now.

"He's doing great! Grey is releasing him, so he's coming with us. We found this great abandoned colony to hide out on."

"Ah," says Locus, but he doesn't understand.

It makes sense to keep him alive for Hargrove's trial: he could give testify to a great many of Charon's crimes. But surely the Reds and Blues know that by hiding with him, they're putting themselves in danger. After all they have been through, they don't deserve that extra burden.

But he doesn't protest as he follows Grif out of the cell.

He has no right to protest anything they do with him now..

Outside, there's a row of guards waiting, and also a soldier in teal armor, the hilt of a Sangheili sword hanging at his hip.

Lavernius Tucker.

"Yeah, I still don't like this," says Tucker.

"Sucks to be you," says Grif. "We're doing this."

"Hmph," says Tucker, and then draws his sword. The shimmering blade hums into being, and Tucker levels it at Locus's throat.

Locus doesn't move. He's confident that Tucker isn't about to kill him. If he's going to make some sort of demonstration—well—he deserves it.

"Listen," says Tucker. "I don't care if you knife Red Team in their beds, but if you hurt Wash or Caboose, I will cut you."

Locus stares at him. "I'm not going to kill you," he says stiffly, even though he knows it doesn't make a difference.

Nobody should ever trust him again.

"What about Carolina?" asks Grif.

Tucker shrugs. "Eh, if he tries to hurt Carolina, she'll kill him 200% dead. Blue Team is awesome that way."

"You mean like how you got 200% of the women on Chorus pregnant?"

"Okay, seriously? Give that a rest."

#

Tucker is not the only one who threatens him in the first few days. So does Agent Carolina ("I want you to get a trial, not a bullet. But we're watching you.") and Sarge ("I hope you know that if you turn against us, there will be red, bloody vengeance! Unless you kill Grif. Then you'll get a medal.")

That's only fair. If Locus had a team, if he still had somebody who trusted him—

"We're partners. Survivors. We need each other."

—he would do the same.

He's a little surprised that Agent Washington does not threaten him the same way. Perhaps it's because of how they meet (again): Agent Washington propped up in his seat on the spaceship, bandages around his throat.

"Hey, big guy," he says, and Tucker flicks a finger at his head.

"That's Locus, remember?"

"Right," says Agent Washington, and gives Locus a slow, wide grin that is—

innocent, affectionate, NOT FOR HIM

—delirious.

"He's still on pain medication," says Agent Carolina, and shoves Locus into his seat.

Agent Washington is quieter in the days after. Looks at Locus with more suspicion, as he deserves. But he never threatens him.

Locus . . . is not sure what to make of that.

He doesn't know what to make of anything, now. He expected that the Reds and Blues would confine him to a single room. Perhaps, if they were feeling kind, they would let him out to see the sun once a week.

Instead, they give him free run of their base all the time. They give him back his sword and his sniper rifle. They still watch him, and none of them but Caboose or Grif show him any affection—it's the only reason he can believe this isn't just a hallucination in his solitary cell—but they don't treat him as he deserves.

The days  fall into a quiet pattern. Locus wakes up at 5:00 a.m. Practices with his sword or sniper rifle until 6:00. Attempts to meditate the way the Sangheili taught him until 7:00.

At 8:00, he wonders why he's there.

There was one time he tried to ask Grif, but he had just started rambling about how it was one of life's great mysteries.

Locus is not foolish enough to imagine that they are treating him so kindly because they have forgiven him, that they are trying to rehabilitate him. His crimes were monstrous, and there is no coming back from them.

No. He's alive only because he is useful. If the Reds and Blues are treating him kindly, it's only because they think it will make him obedient. That's the only thing that makes sense.

So why haven't they given him any orders yet?

He wishes that whatever his mission, they would hurry up and give it to him. It is not pleasant, living with the Reds and Blues. Except for the two Freelancers, they are all completely unprofessional. Loud, annoying, and stupid.

And more than that, they . . .

"Aww, c'mon," Tucker whines, "we haven't watched Reservoir Dogs in like a year."

"Two months," says Agent Carolina. She's leaning back into the couch, Agent Washington cuddled against her left side, Donut sitting on her right and painting her nails. "We watched it the night before Dylan Andrews turned up."

Agent Washington clears his throat. "When we were locked in our armor—"

"Oh my GOD give that a rest already," says Grif. He's sitting at the table next to Simmons, a hand on his shoulder while Sarge adjusts something in the cybernetics of his arm. "I was stuck here alone with nobody to talk to but volleyballs, and do I ever bring that up?"

"Just all the fucking time, asshole," Simmons mutters.

"So, Reservoir Dogs?" says Tucker.

"Don't you have like five hundred kids you should be spending time with instead?" Grif says peevishly.

"Dude, I have fifteen. And we're in witness protection, remember? But Marisol just started crawling, do you want to see videos?"

"Oh, no," Agent Washington mutters as Tucker pulls out a tablet. But despite his words, the way he looks at Tucker is—

the way he only looked at Locus while he was drugged

—fond.

And Locus, standing in the corner of the room with his active camo running, feels suddenly. Very. He's not even sure what he's feeling.

He just knows that he never felt it around Felix, Felix whom he seldom liked but who was always ready to remind him that they were partners, they were the same, survivors and weapons and relics of the Great War together.

Locus doesn't belong here, in this room, among these people.

"Well, I think that Locus should pick the movie," says Caboose, suddenly looking straight at Locus, right through the camo. "I mean he has been waiting invisibly in the corner for a long time."

Locus flees.

#

More and more, he thinks about Felix. There are too many things about the Reds and Blues that remind him: the way that Tucker swaggers sometimes. The way that Donut can't resist pushing people's buttons until they scream. The way Agent Carolina grins when she takes down Agent Washington in a sparring match.

Too many things that remind him of Felix, and yet it's painfully clear how different these soldiers are than his "partner." How much better.

Locus can't stop thinking about what the alien AI said to him at the Communications Temple: You were broken by war. It was his goal to see you never healed.

He can't stop remembering what Felix had said to him, again and again, from the very beginning: that broken fucking brain of yours.

He should have known. He should have seen. Locus has understood too much since Felix died, and here with the Reds and Blues, he starts to understand more. Every time Felix slapped him on the shoulder, leaned against him as they sat waiting—

There were even a few times, and Locus cringes to remember them now, when Felix muttered, Wow, you are fucked up tonight, and worked his fingers into the tense muscles in Locus's neck, or ran them soothingly through his hair.

Locus remembers how he relaxed, how he was grateful, and he wants to tear himself apart. He sees the way that Tucker sometimes gives head massages to Agent Washington, while Agent Washington hums in gratitude, and he feels like he's going to vomit.

Because he knows now: it was never friendship that Felix showed him. It was only the coaxing techniques of a wild animal trainer.

Ignorant creature. Your partner is afraid of you.

And yet sometimes, he regrets.

Sometimes—when he sees the others laughing together and knows they will stop if he approaches—he wishes that Felix were still alive. Because Felix, at least, was willing to dirty his hands with Locus. Willing to pretend they were fellow-travelers.

And then one night, as he's tossing in his bed, trying to sleep and not remember—

"Hey, partner."

The cold edge of a knife presses on his throat.

Instinct keeps Locus perfectly still as his eyes snap open. Even in the dim light, he can clearly see the face leaning over his—those eyes, that smile—

Felix.

"Impossible," Locus whispers, but the protest is weak. Because this is Felix, but not the one he remembers—the one he sometimes dreams about. This is a thinner, paler Felix, with a network of scars across his face worse than Donut's.

This isn't a dream.

"Aww, c'mon, you can admit that you missed me," says Felix.

"You died," says Locus. The hilt of the alien sword is under his pillow—no good to him now, when Felix could cut his throat in a heartbeat, but still proof of what happened at the Temple.

"Fun fact about aliens: they like to fuck with death. So now I'm here to fuck with you and your little friends."

Felix reaches under his pillow and pulls out the sword. It flickers to life in his grasp, and Locus realizes suddenly that he hasn't used the sword in . . . at least a week. More than enough time for Felix to come back to life, to reclaim what's rightfully his.

"Playtime's over, Locus," says Felix, smirking down at him as he holds the point of the sword to his throat.

It's not possible. And yet, as Locus stares up at Felix, heart pounding, he remembers some of the legends he heard from the Sangheili who taught him to use the sword. They spoke of stranger things than this.

"I won't let you hurt them," he says, but Felix just laughs.

"Wow. I mean, I always knew you were crazy, but trying to threaten me when I've got a fucking alien sword at your throat?"

Locus can't help flinching at the word crazy. In all their time together, no matter how bad things got, Felix had never said that word.

"Ooh, sorry, didn't mean to trigger you," says Felix. "But actually, I'm here to make you an offer. I think you've already figured out how much you don't belong with these losers."

"They're not—" Locus starts, and then falls silent. Felix smirks at him.

They both know what Locus didn't deny: that he doesn't belong with them.

"Yeah. I'll be back soon." Felix pulls the sword away from Locus's throat. "Not too late to be on the right side, partner."

And then he's gone, vanished into the shadows.

For a moment, Locus can't move. He's still paralyzed by the memory of Felix's voice—he can't be here, he CAN'T BE HERE—and the crushing weight of his words, you don't belong.

Then he gets up. Staggers to the door.

He has to warn the others.

They're all in the rec room, sleeping together in a pile on the couch. At any other time, the sight would put a hollow, lonely feeling in Locus's gut. Now all he can think is how fragile they are, how unprepared—

"Wake up," he says. "Felix is here."

"Whuzzat?" says Agent Washington, as Tucker says, "The fuck?" and Agent Carolina comes awake with a quiet, "What is it?"

"Felix is here," Locus repeats. "He's got my sword." Speaking the words make his chest hurt—he doesn't want to do this—but they deserve a warning. He can't let Felix hurt them again.

"Is he speaking . . . Sangheili?" asks Grif, staring at Locus with a puzzled expression.

"Stop talking nonsense," says Locus. "You have to get up and find Felix now."

"No, it's not Sangheili," says Tucker, looking at him. "Just some kinda . . . gibberish."

Agent Washington looks Locus up and down. "Maybe he's gone crazy," he says.

"Yeah, not too surprising," says Tucker.

"Listen to me," says Locus. "Felix is—"

The crushing weight of somebody in full power armor slams him to the ground. Locus gasps for breath, as an armored hand hooks around his throat—

"Got him," says Agent Carolina, grim satisfaction in her voice.

"Wait," says Locus. "You have to listen. Felix is in this base."

"Huh, he won't shut up," says Agent Washington. He's gotten up now, and is peering down at Locus.

Tucker draws his sword, and the blade shimmers into being. "Kimball said to kill him if he gave us trouble."

"Please," Locus begs, sick with dread. This is worse than the vision he had in the temple, because that was only a memory, and this is real. They're in danger. "You have to understand me—"

The shimmering blue tip of a Sangheili blade pokes out through Tucker's chest.

No, thinks Locus, unable to breathe. He struggles against Agent Carolina's grip, but he can't break free.

Tucker chokes and spasms.

Then he falls.

"TUCKER!" Agent Washington yells, lunging for him.

"Hey, thanks for the distraction," Felix purrs from the shadows.

No, Locus thinks, but Felix moves too fast for any of them. He cuts down Grif, Caboose, Agent Carolina. He swings his sword and Agent Washington falls, choking on his own blood.

"Fuck you—monster—" Agent Washington manages to say, as blood gushes from his throat.

Then he's still.

Locus can't move. He hears Felix slaughtering the rest, but all he can do is stare into Agent Washington's dead eyes.

He hadn't said those final words to Felix. He'd been glaring at Locus as he died.

And he was right.

Locus is a monster. He will never be anything else.

"Seriously," says Felix, crouching down beside him, "I couldn't have done it without you, partner." He lays a hand on Locus's shoulder, the same way he did at the Temple of the Purge, when he said partner and Locus chose again to be a—

monster monster WHO ARE YOU caught us a monster captain

—and he wakes.

Locus doesn't realize, at first, that he's awake. That he was sleeping. He can feel his back pressed into the wall, he's vaguely aware of somebody else in the room, but his mind is too full of blood and death and Felix's smug satisfaction. He's gasping and shuddering and wanting to die, and when somebody grabs his shoulders, he struggles without thinking.

Then he realizes it's Agent Washington.

He's alive and unhurt and it was all a dream.

Locus realizes, suddenly, that his throat is sore. He's been screaming. He probably woke the whole base, and they don't deserve that, he shouldn't make them listen to his broken fucking brain—

"Hey," says Agent Washington. "Are you, uh, okay?"

He sounds uncomfortable, but he's not moving. He still has his fingers pressed against Locus's shoulders.

And suddenly, painfully, Locus remembers a night when he woke screaming with memories of the Great War, and Felix was there, Felix pressed fingers into the base of his neck and said, Are you fucking done yet? You know the war's over, right?

Felix.

He knows that he's shaking, he's vaguely aware of Tucker and Agent Washington talking over his head, and their voices sound concerned but the only thing that matters is. Is.

Ignorant creature.

"Okay, uh . . . breathe?" says Tucker, right in his ear. "That would probably be good. And don't rip Wash's arm off. 'Cause then I'd have to kill you."

Locus breathes and he bites his tongue until he bleeds and he understands.

Because Agent Washington is still touching him. Has a hand against the side of his neck.

And Locus knows what this means, the pressure against his skin, the kindness when he wakes. There's only one reason that anyone has ever treated him this way.

To make him obedient.

The Reds and Blues took him into their care because they wanted a monster to serve them.

Locus doesn't know why. He doesn't know how they're planning use him. But as he leans into Wash's touch—the first person who ever touched him without armor since Felix—

He knows it's no use wondering.

He tried to be a person, to make choices and a create a code for himself. All he did was get Agent Washington nearly killed. So now?

It doesn't matter what they want him to do, what kind of monster they want him to be. He has no more strength left to resist them.

He'll do whatever they want.

He'll be whatever monster they need.