#it's us or them

[noforkingclue]

I Had To (10th Doctor x reader)

Summary: you had gone too far this time. Too far even for the Doctor

You looked at the screen before you, your mind blank. You followed thickly as you watched the burning spaceship feeling oddly empty. You expected to feel something. Joy, elation, satisfaction, horror but not this…

This emptiness.

This hollow feeling inside.

You could see the Doctor watching you in the reflection of the screen. His expression too was blank.

“I had to.” you said at last

“No you didn’t.”

You winced at his tone.

“You know that isn’t true.”

“I could’ve worked out a solution. There’s always-”

“Not this time!”

You spun around and looked at him desperately.

“It’s us or them.” you said

The Doctor gave you a bitter look and shook his head.

“There’s always a way,” he said, “you didn’t have to resort to violence.”

“You act like I wanted to.”

“You seemed pretty quick to jump to it.”

“Because all other options were gone.”

“You didn’t know that.”

You winced at his tone and the expression on his face. Just like your feelings earlier you wished that the Doctor would show something. Anger, disappointment, pure rage…

Anything was better than this eerily blank expression. You took a step towards him and when the Doctor didn’t move away you approached him.

“You understand,” you said desperately, “you understand why I had to do it.”

And maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that. The blank look that was hiding the understanding. The knowledge of what you’d done because he’d done it before. He’d killed people, whole races, for what he saw as the greater good. To save millions and millions of people.

And it disgusted him.

He was disgusted about what he had become.

What he had to do.

What you did.

What you thought you had to do.

“You hate me.” you said

“I don’t.”

The Doctor answered too quickly and you flinched slightly. It was a sign that he was lying.

“You're lying.”

Something flashed over the Doctor’s eyes and you looked away. You knew you had gone too far this time. Everything had shattered in front of you because of one thing you did. One thing that the Doctor had done before. Yet it was different for you. You had come to realise that the Doctor wanted his companions to be clean. To not have the same blood soaking their hands that soaked his.

The Doctor sighed and walked past you. He didn’t spare you another glance as he walked back to the console.

“I’ll drop you back on earth,” he said coldly, “not long after we left. No one would even know you were gone.”

And just like that you were ruined for him.

You were no longer clean for him.

[oxideblack]

[hy-whump-hei]

a full week of whumptober is already done!!! i'm pretty surprised at how fast this is going but i really enjoy making prompt lists like this :D

ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES: Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

CW: Comas, implied human experimentation

A Whumpee whose magic is uncontrollable when used. Nobody dares to get close with them or even talk to them for fear of getting hurt. The only person willing enough to go near them is Whumper, who just found themselves the perfect test subject...

Caretaker has a magic type that is incredibly powerful, but sends the user into a coma for the next few days, which is why it is reserved for emergency use. When Whumpee is in danger, Caretaker doesn't give a second thought as to how they'll be affected: all they can think of is Whumpee.

"If they want to play dirty, so will we." "Please, don't do this!" "It's us or them, Teammate. If this is what keeps us alive, so be it."

i'm so tired so i'm gna snooze now :] goodnight and see you tomorrow for day 8!!

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 7: Only for Emergencies

More Obey Me! for today's @whumptober fic

Prompts: Only for emergencies, magic with a cost, 'it's us or them' Fandom: Obey Me! Nightbringer Character: Barbatos

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Read on Ao3

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Only for Emergencies

Solomon abuses his pact with Barbatos and leaves the prince’s butler with injuries that should have been his. (Protagonist POV)

~~~~

“Remind me never to agree to go on a mission with you again.”

“Come on, Helena, as my apprentice, I need to show you the ropes, right?” Solomon’s laugh was cavalier. Not the sound someone should be making when we were trapped in a crawl space, being hunted by a giant snake, and all because my master decided he needed some specialty items and wanted to drag me along on his very much not a normal shopping trip.

“At least count it as a learning experience?” the sorcerer shrugged.

I glowered at him. “Only if you will. I was the one who said we should go the other way, but you insisted this was the right path and look where we are now.”

“Look, it’s been a while since I’ve been down here, okay? I got a little turned around.” He looked around, searching our surroundings. “Hey, what’s that back there?”

I cringed as he scraped past me in the small space, pressing myself as firmly back against the stone wall as I could. Solomon climbed onto some rubble gathered at the back of the tunnel and started moving rocks out of the way before he waved a hand at me.

“Get back, I’m going to try to blast through.”

I hurried as far back to the entrance as I could, shielding my face and covering my ears as the blast shook through the tiny space.

Solomon hacked on the dust, staggering to his feet. As I straightened, I could feel cooler air on my face.

“We’re through, come on.” He offered me a hand and helped me over the rubble through the hole he’d made.

Leaving us right in the middle of a nest of beasts.

I stared in horrified silence for a long moment as the creatures too, seemed surprised by our presence. Giant bug-like creatures and the snake from earlier began to converge on is.

“This is seriously the last time I ever go anywhere with you,” I snarled as I started to form a protective barrier around myself.

I didn’t finish it in time for the snake to strike at me, flinging me across the room where I skidded painfully into a wall.

Solomon created a flare of magic that pushed the monsters back before he sprinted in my direction.

“We need to run.”

“Yeah no shit, Solomon!” I gasped as I reached for the hand he offered to pull me to my feet.

A giant scorpion scrambled from the left, swinging its tail angrily.

“Solomon, watch—”

I wasn’t able to get the warning out in time. Solomon turned, readying a spell, but before he could finish, the barbed tail buried itself in his middle.

Solomon choked as he was suspended on the end of the barb for a second before the creature flung him across the room.

“Solomon!” I shouted as I pushed myself back to my feet and made a flare of light to ward off the approaching creatures before running to the injured sorcerer.

He had pushed himself into a sitting position, one hand clasped over the wound. I could see blood seeping worryingly from between his fingers but we didn’t have time to see to it at the moment. I grabbed his arm and hauled him upright as he groaned in protest.

“You might have the worst bedside manner I’ve ever seen, Helena.”

“We’re literally about to die,” I snapped. “And if I remember correctly, those things’ venom temporarily muzzles any magical ability—I’m sure that’s the case for even a ‘great sorcerer’ like yourself.”

“No need to be so sarcastic,” Solomon grunted, coughing slightly. “You are correct, but fear not, my dear apprentice, I have certain emergency clauses written into all my pacts for moments just like this.”

I frowned, admittedly a little worried as to just what he had planned. “What kind of emergency clauses?”

“We don’t have time to discuss details! Just hold them off while I get this working.”

I didn’t have another option but to trust him at the moment and readied another spell.

Solomon pulled up his sleeve and drew a symbol over the tattoos on his arm with his own blood. The mark started to glow and I watched with shock as the blood stopped leaking from his wounds—even the scrapes on his face healed. He huffed a breath of relief.

“How—?”

“Don’t worry about the how, just that we’re getting out of here,” he said and held out his hand. “Now, one more distraction from you, Helena, to keep them occupied, and then I should be ready to teleport us out of here. Grab my hand.”

I did as I sent off another blast and by the time the light faded, Solomon’s teleportation spell was already in effect as everything melted away into brief darkness.

***

Barbatos poured a cup of tea and placed it at Diavolo’s elbow along with a small plate of selected pastries.

“Is there anything else I can get for you right now, young master?” he asked.

“This is perfect, thank you,” the prince replied, frowning slightly at the papers in front of him, chin propped on one fist.

Barbatos smiled slightly. “My Lord, I also would like to remind you the answers to these proposals will be due by tomorrow.”

Diavolo huffed a long sigh. “I’m aware. It just feels like that’s all I’ve been doing lately.”

“Well, young master, starting a successful school means you’ll have a lot of people coming to you with their ideas—not all of them good, granted, but…”

Barbatos paused. The unmistakable tingle of magic running up his spine. His face instantly clouded. That insolent sorcerer, was he really trying to call on him—

A dull ache suddenly started to form in Barbatos’s belly, as if he had stupidly eaten something said sorcerer had made, but…

There was a damp feeling soaking into his coat and as he pressed a hand there, his glove was soaked red when he pulled it away.

“Barbatos?” Diavolo inquired, turning toward him with a frown. “Is everything okay?”

The butler clenched his hand to hide the blood. “My apologies, young master, there is something I—” He choked on something bubbling up in his throat and clapped a hand over his mouth in mortification.

“Barbatos are you well?” Diavolo demanded, pushing his chair back.

Barbatos stepped back, trying to wave him away. “Do not concern yourse—ugh.” Speaking brought on an agonizing coughing fit forcing him to double over, bracing himself against the corner of the desk.

“Barbatos!” Diavolo sounded terrified as he grabbed his butler’s shoulder to steady him and finally saw the blood staining his gloves. “What in Devildom is going on?”

Barbatos fought to get his breath and gently extricated himself from Diavolo’s grasp as he managed hoarsely, “Do not concern yourself, young master, just give me a moment. If you’ll excuse me.”

He started his retreat of the room when his legs simply gave out under him and he reached for the bookcase, slowing his descent as he crumpled. Darkness started to cloud his vision and Diavolo’s concerned shouts faded as he began to cough up blood uncontrollably.

***

It was impossible to tell where we ended up at first. Solomon and I came out of the teleportation spell in a heap on the floor somewhere. I was actively trying not to vomit—that had been the roughest trip I had ever had.

“Helena? Solomon, what—?”

I pushed myself up and saw we had somehow landed in Diavolo’s study. The prince was standing there staring at us in confusion.

“Of course—you insolent, insufferable sorcerer. How dare you?”

I glanced behind Diavolo to see Barbatos. To my shock, he was slumped against the bookcase and there was blood on his lips and soaking into his usually pristine gloves.

“Barbatos!” I cried, shoving myself upright to rush toward him. My nausea was instantly replaced with alarm. His body shuddered in an aborted cough and I took his face between my hands. “What happened?”

“Ask the despicable sorcerer,” Barbatos quipped before he smothered a wet cough in his hand and doubled over.

I looked down and saw the front of his uniform soaked a dark red. I unbuttoned his coat and pulled it open, following with his shirt until I found the large puncture wound in his stomach. “My god, Barb,” I gasped, ripping my coat off to press against the wound before I spun around toward Solomon.

“What did you do?” I demanded.

“I saved our lives,” the sorcerer said simply.

“And you didn’t think to tell me it was Barbatos’s contract you were using?”

“You would never have let me do it if I had, and it was the only one that would have been any good to me in the moment. That injury kept me from performing magic so I had to get rid of it. I’m sorry it had to be like this, but Barbatos was aware of the clause.”

“For emergency, only,” Barbatos growled. “And even then, while, yes, I was aware of the clause, you put it in without my consent.”

I was too furious to speak. I concentrated on stopping the blood flowing from Barbatos’s—Solomon’s—wound as Diavolo put two and two together.

“Hold on, you’re telling me you got into a predicament, were injured, and then thought you could simply transfer your injury to my butler?”

“I deeply apologize for the injuries, my lord,” Solomon said with a bow.

“You realize I could count this as an attack on me—treason, even!” Diavolo snapped.

“My lord,” Barbatos croaked. “As…despicable as the action was, it was, regrettably, part of our contract, and therefor nothing strictly illegal occurred.”

Diavolo did not look happy about that but the worry behind his eyes won out. “We’ll discuss this later. Let’s get Barbatos looked after.”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “We’ll need something to carry him on.”

“Unnecessary,” Barbatos tried but Diavolo shook his head.

“You can’t walk to your room in that condition. I’ll call the physician.”

I stayed crouched beside Barbatos, keeping pressure on his wound until the doctor and one of his assistants came with a stretcher. I stepped back to let them get Barbatos onto it and watched them carry him out with Diavolo in tow before I spun on Solomon.

“What the hell, Solomon?” he demanded.

He held his hands up. “Helena, listen, this isn’t anything Barbatos can’t take. He’s a lot heartier than you or I—”

“Stop right there,” I cut in, fury boiling up in me, threatening to reach an explosive conclusion. “Do you think it would make any difference to me if you had transferred a scraped knee to him instead of the wound you got when you were impaled by a massive scorpion? It’s the point of the matter.”]

“I saved both our lives,” Solomon said firmly. “You think I wouldn’t be having this conversation with Barbatos if I had brought you back gravely injured?”

“We could have come up with another solution!” I shouted. “I was holding them off easily enough, there was undoubtedly another way out. I’m pissed because you didn’t even consult me on what you were doing—that was disgustingly selfish of you.”

“Of course I didn’t consult you! You’re too close to Barbatos; you never would have agreed.”

“Like he didn’t agree to you adding this clause to the contract?”

Solomon snorted. “He read it over.”

“Before or after you made a pact with him?”

Solomon shook his head. “Don’t be like that, Helena. I’ve explained before that using a little chicanery when making pacts is expected. Humans are not on top of the food chain when it comes to demons. If you want to be this soft in your dealings with them, maybe you don’t belong here in Devildom.”

I slapped him hard across the face. “Don’t ever mistake my common decency for softness again, Solomon. You’re not supposed to trick your friends. Which is obviously why you don’t have any.”

I started to push past him, but he grabbed my arm. “Helena…”

I spun and punched him directly in the nose, forcing him to stagger back with a strangled cry, blood spilling over his upper lip.

I stormed out of the study and headed toward Barbatos’s room, trying to breathe away my anger by the time I got there. My hand hurt but it had been worth it.

Diavolo was pacing outside the door, looking agitated. He glanced up as he saw me and paused in his movements.

“How is he?” I asked.

He folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Not great. The wound is pretty bad, and the doctor says he won’t be able to heal until the venom works its way out of his system. I guess Solomon passed that along too.”

I pressed my lips into a firm line.

“I’m not sure what to do about him, Helena,” Diavolo said. “Barbatos is right, technically he only did what was on the contract. But I don’t know if I can allow him to get away with this without any repercussions. After all, Barbatos is invaluable to me—deliberately injuring the prince’s butler has to be counted as an attack on my position, right? But if I make too big of a fuss about it, then the lords might take that as a strike against humans as a whole and that could damage our ties with the human world. Not to mention it could put you in danger which I would never want.” He huffed in annoyance. “I didn’t expect to have to deal with all of these political questions today.”

I sighed tiredly. “Then maybe doing nothing is your only course of action. I know Barbatos wouldn’t want you causing upheaval on his part. But that doesn’t mean doing nothing can’t have it’s consequences.”

“How so?”

“Because if word gets out that Solomon makes slimy contracts no one will want to make a pact with him, and no one us will obviously ever trust him again. Being a societal outcast would be punishment enough for Solomon.”

Diavolo’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose it will have to be enough. I just can’t believe he would choose to do something like this…”

“Believe me, I know,” I said, glancing toward the door.

Diavolo’s face softened. “You should go to him. He didn’t want me to see him like that, but I’m sure your presence will bring him comfort. Look after him for me?”

I smiled sadly. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Diavolo nodded and reluctantly stepped away from the door. “I’ll go see if I can deal with Solomon. If you have time later, I’d appreciate an update on Barbatos’s condition?”

“Of course,” I said and slipped into the room.

The doctor was leaning over the bed, doing his best to stitch up the hole in Barbatos’s stomach.

Barbatos had been stripped to the waist and he looked incredibly pale, sweat beading on his brow, hands clenched in the sheets. I hurried to grab a cool cloth and made my way over to sit on the side of the bed, taking hold of his closest hand and pressing the cloth to his brow.

His eyes flickered open, dull from pain, and I gave his hand a squeeze.

“Hey,” I whispered, pushing his bangs out of his eyes before dabbing his forehead again.

“I’m nearly done,” the doctor said.

Barbatos’s eyes fluttered shut again and he let out a soft sound of pain, obviously practicing huge restraint. I could tell how much pain he was in from the way he clutched my hand. Tight enough to hurt around my bruised knuckles.

The doctor and his assistant finished up, spreading salve over Barbatos’s wound, before wrapping bandages around his waist.

“How long until the venom wears off?” I asked.

“A couple more hours,” the doctor said. “After that his body should start being able to heal itself, but I would recommend at least two days of bedrest.”

“We’ll see…how I feel,” Barbatos said, voice obviously strained. “I can’t…shirk my duties…for too long.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get up too soon,” I told the doctor as Barbatos furrowed his brow.

“I’ll be back to check on him later,” the doctor promised as he cleaned up his supplies and left with his assistant.

“Please report to the Prince about his condition,” I said as he left. “That way he’ll be made aware that he will have to find someone to handle Barbatos’s duties for the next few days.”

“Helena,” Barbatos hissed disapprovingly.

The doctor nodded. “Of course, miss.”

As the door closed, Barbatos cast a baleful look at me. “It won’t take me that long to heal.”

“So? Diavolo is worried about you, and it won’t kill you to take a couple days off to rest.” I kicked my shoes off and crawled further onto the bed, leaning over him. “Or are you just that disappointed at the thought that we might actually get to spend some time together?”

I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. His mouth instantly melted against mine, and he brought a hand up to tangle in my hair, holding me close.

“Trying to use your wiles to sway me? You little vixen,” he smiled.

I smirked back, pecking his lips again. “Is it working?”

“Hmm, you do make a very convincing case.”

“I’m also not above tying you to the bed, you know. I have a lot of books that will tell me exactly what will hold even a powerful demon like you.”

His eyes lit up with a wicked glint. “Do you, now? I see. Careful or I might just be convinced to tempt you into doing so.”

I clicked my tongue, brushing his hair out of his face. “Perhaps we should wait until you’re feeling better for that.”

I sobered, smoothing my thumb across his cheekbone. “I’m sorry, Barb. If I had known what Solomon was going to do—”

He shook his head, taking my hand and pointedly kissing my bruised knuckles. “This wasn’t your fault, Helena. I am mostly relieved you are uninjured. If I had to take Solomon’s wounds for that, then I suppose it’s worth it.”

“You’re far more gracious than I am.”

“I’ve simply learned to pick my battles. Someday Solomon’s sins and deceptions will come back to bite him. And I hope to be there to see it happen.”

I sighed. “I just don’t like to see you hurt.”

He gave me a soft look. “It’s admittedly not the most enjoyable thing, but I am looking forward to you being my caretaker. Perhaps it will be nice to have a couple days of rest.”

Relieved that he seemed to be complying, I smiled and pulled the blankets from the foot of the bed, pulling them over us as I cuddled up against him.

“I couldn’t agree more.” I leaned in to kiss him again and when we pulled away he rested his forehead against mine. “Let’s make the most of it.”

[uuuhshiny]

Vladimir Verevochkin in Survival game (Игра на выживание)

[discordzero]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Devil May Cry (Gameverse)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd

Characters: Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Mentioned Jason Todd - Character, mentioned Duke Thomas - Character, mentioned Tim drake - Character

Additional Tags: Hurt Stephanie Brown, Hurt Cassandra Cain, Hurt Damian Wayne, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Self-Mutilation, of the devil may cry variety, damian's severed hand is used as a weapon, this au is not fully fleshed out but i think about it a lot, author is pulling dmc lore from memory Summary:

Wiping the blood, her own and Damian’s, from her eyes meant she saw Steph run toward a light just over the hill with a speed that no one in her condition should have been capable of. Cass heard Steph laughing like they were kids again just playing tag in this very backyard.

[killjoyconstruct]

Whumptober Day 7: It's Us or Them

The commander had always been so calm, so collected, throughout the entire time they'd known it. No matter how many battles they were forced to fight, or how many troops it lost, its stoicism and unyielding resolve never waned.

So when it turned to them, its helmet shattered, its face bruised and bloody, and a hatred known only to the gods burning in the one eye they could see, they knew they had made a terrible mistake in defending the enemy prisoner.

It was their own fault. They should have remembered what the commander had told them about its childhood at the hands of these beasts. But it was too late to take it back now.

It was the order, or their enemy. The commander knew that. It would make sure they knew that too.

[sushimango]

Day 07 of Whumptober!

In his original story Tom is using a very self destructive form of magic which will make his mana veins burst if overused

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Whumptober 2024

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

A/N: For this one at first I was like, “magic with a cost?” In Half-life? “It’s us or them,” I could see a little better, but then it dawned on me.  Gordon Freeman is literally the KING of unconventional weapons.  Crowbar?  Check.  Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator (gravity gun) you can use to violently CHUCK THINGS at people?  Check.  Even magic with a cost I eventually figured could fit the vorts.  SO.  Here we are.  Ready to cause some mayhem!  And I decided that, yes, this takes place shortly after my fic, “Aliens and Adrenaline.”  Not a prereq for understanding this one, but a fun way to add in a little extra whump ;)

See you on the other side! (If you stick around that long.) ((Please do!))

“Dammit, Keller, I told you before. It’s us or them.”

Gordon Freeman crept to a stop at the corner, listening to the heated argument of the two marines in the adjacent corridor.  In one hand, he held a crowbar, encrusted with blood both human and otherwise.  The other was clamped securely to the gash in his side, a lovely parting gift from one of the three-armed, green energy-ball slinging aliens that were spontaneously materializing around Black Mesa Research Facility.

“I know, I know,” the second Marine, Keller, replied defensively.  “It just feels… wrong.  They’re unarmed.  I thought we were being sent into this hellhole as reinforcements, not to slaughter innocent civilians.”

Cautiously, Gordon peeked around the corner.  Neither of them faced directly towards him, but he didn’t dare come out any further, lest they spot the movement in the corner of their eyes.  Although he had found himself able to overpower one or two Marines at a time, he knew that this would be too much.  Even with the newest dose of morphine lingering in his system, he could feel cold and lethargy slowly creeping into his limbs, as blood slowly oozed out from between his fingers.

But the Marines weren’t what he was really interested in.  Even after watching what they had done to some of his coworkers, he was loathe to kill them mercilessly.  Weren’t they fighting for the same end, to stop the end of human life as they know it?  It was the medical kit mounted on the wall behind them that he was interested in, along with what appeared to be several crates of ammunition and a radio.

“Innocent?” The first soldier said indignantly, “Those eggheads are the reason we’re here in the first place.  Can’t leave well enough alone. And that Freeman guy—”

A pang of… Something struck Gordon’s chest.  In the time since the resonance cascade, he hadn’t had the time – nor the energy – to think about all of that.  He had been too busy trying to survive.  And stop a rip in the fabric of the Earth from destroying life as they knew it, of course.  That was a given.  Was all this his fault, though?  He could have refused to go through with the experiment.  He certainly had the grounds to, after all.  The danger had been obvious long before they went through with it.  If not him, though, then who?  And at what cost?

Gordon pressed his left hand tighter against the tender injury in his side, using the pain that flared, despite the morphine, as a distraction.  Surprisingly enough, the quiet, analytical thinker had learned that the one thing you didn’t do was think.  It was stopping to think that got you killed.

In the middle of their argument, the Marines turned their backs on the hall behind them as a staticky voice crackled through the radio.

“Target reported in sector Alpha, oh-five-niner.”

Silent as a cat, Gordon crept around the corner towards the two unsuspecting Marines, hefting his crowbar in his free hand.  Despite his calm exterior demeanor, his pulse thundered in his ears.  He forced his breaths to flow quiet and steady.

“Freeman is armed and dangerous—”

A familiar, warping, flanging sound directly behind him easily forfeited all need to stay quiet.  The Marines turned.  Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, grunting at the violent tug on his injured side.  A green, humming ball of pure, concentrated electricity whizzed over Gordon’s prone form.  It slammed into the two Marines, who went crashing into the crates behind them. 

Almost as quickly as he dropped, Gordon was back on his feet again.  His chest heaved, and his vision spun dangerously for several seconds; his pulse throbbed in tandem with the pain in his side.  Ignoring the trembling in all of his limbs, he raised his crowbar high—

Only to see the three-armed alien already collapsed on the floor.  It was alive, that was for certain.  It was also breathing heavily, clawed fingers twitching, the large, single eye in the middle of its leathery-skinned face rolled back, half shut. 

Gordon took a shaky step back – more of a stumble than a purposeful movement, and leaned back against the crates at his back, staring at the incapacitated alien in front of him.  As far as he could tell, it had no obvious external injuries.  No vibrant green blood pooled on the floor, no obvious discoloration of its tough, leathery hide.  It almost looked to be… exhausted.

With a wince, Gordon let his raised arm drop to his side.  There was no morality in killing a debilitated opponent.  He knew that, even if it was from the cheesy action movies with their righteous heroes that his younger self had watched with his dad on the weekends in their garage in Seattle.

For a long moment, both man and alien recovered in silence.  The radio crackled back to life.

“Repeat, Freeman is armed and dangerous. Kill on sight.”

A/N: so, I know this one is out a day late, and I still haven't finished prompts no. 2 and no. 6, BUT. Here it is. A (semi) sequel to Aliens and Adrenaline. Yay!

[crimsonwolf715]

Stranded

(Canon divergent for after Endgame. Pre this fic, Gamora traveled with the Guardians and got all of her old self’s memories. I may actually write a fic on that, but for right now, picture it as you 😀)

Peter Quill and Gamora have a problem. The current issue is that the two have been separated from the rest of the Guardians. Kidnapped, to be more specific. The Guardians were on a mission to save a planet from being overthrown and while they succeeded and caused a retreat, the aliens took Quill and Gamora in their retreat. 

Gamora and Quill are dragged to the bridge. 

“These are the two responsible for your failure?” 

“They are the only two we were able to grab on our way off the planet.” 

The leader gets off his throne and walks down to where Quill and Gamora are. 

“This one is the fighter,” he says, tilting Gamora’s chin up to get a better look at her face. “She was with Thanos. Who is this?” 

“They call him Star-Lord, my Lord.” 

“Star-Lord? What planet do you rule, Star-Lord?” 

“I don’t rule a planet, dipshit,” Quill replies. 

“Then why are you called Star-Lord?” 

“Because it’s a bad-ass name.” 

“Star-Lord is a rambunctious one. Go ahead with the girl. Gamora, if I remember correctly.” 

Quill tries to get away from the alien holding him. They come back with a shock baton and they electrocute Gamora, who cries out. Quill tries to look away, but they force him to watch. Watch as they continue to electrocute Gamora until she’s limp and barely breathing. Quill tries to get away, but these aliens are much stronger than him. 

“Take them to a holding cell. We’ll drop them off at the next planet we come across. See how well these guardians do on their own without their tools,” the leader says. 

The two get thrown into a holding cell, Quill goes over to Gamora. He checks her pulse and once he finds it, he starts shaking her. 

“Hey, Gamora. Hey, I need you to wake up. Gamora.” 

“Stop it, Peter,” Gamora says. “It kinda hurts.” 

“Sorry. You know what would make you feel better?” 

“What?” 

“Making out.” “What?” 

“Making out with me would make you feel better.” 

“Peter, you are ridiculous.” 

After a while, the ship comes to a halt. More aliens come in and take the two, though they are able to take out several of them before being overpowered. They get thrown out onto the ground, then the hatch closes. The ship flies away, the wind nearly sending the two tumbling away. 

Quill looks around and doesn’t recognize his surroundings. “Aww, man. Of course it’s a planet I haven’t been to before.” 

Gamora sits up. “This is embarrassing.” 

Quill sees what looks like a recharge station, so he jogs over there. Almost nothing’s left. There’s a metal and glass case that has a metal cylinder in it. There are words painted on the case. Most of them Quill can’t read, but there is a sentence he can read because he learned it from Yondu. 

Only For Emergencies  

“This is ‘only for emergencies’,” Quill says. “Sounds dangerous.” 

Quill pulls the metal cylinder out of its case. 

“Quill, be careful. That thing is highly combustible.” 

“Wait, you know what this is?” 

“Yes, I do,” Gamora answers, picking up a broken transmitter. “It’s a power cylinder. It’s for powering weapons and sometimes ships. It’s probably a spare and that’s why the sign said that it’s only for emergencies.” 

“Well, is there some way to convert the power?” 

“Not that I know of, why?” 

“If we convert the power we can set up a distress beacon for The Bowie .” 

“That’s genius, Peter.” 

“Thanks, I try.” 

Quill starts fidgeting with the power cylinder while Gamora fixes up the transmitter. 

“I’ve got it so that the signal will go out as far as it can with the power available. Any luck?” 

“Actually, I think so. Here, hand me the transmitter.” 

Gamora hands it to Quill and he hooks it up to the power cylinder. After a minute of stalling, the beacon starts blinking. 

“You did it!” Gamora exclaims, hugging Quill. 

He wraps an arm around her, not wanting to drop the cylinder. They hear noises, then a spear barely misses the two of them. They look around and a group of aliens in facepaint are running towards them, shouting in a language Quill doesn’t understand. Gamora gets up and drags Quill away from the warriors. They hide behind a giant rock. 

“We have no weapons and they’re gonna keep chasing us,” Gamora says. 

“Well, there are worse ways to die,” Quill says. 

“I’m going to kill you.” 

“That would be a worse way to die.” 

Gamora sighs. 

“You know, we could always make out.” 

“We’re going to die.” 

“But we could make out before we die.” 

“ Peter .” 

“What? It’s a good suggestion.” 

Gamora grabs Quill’s face and turns it to the side. He sees a broken machine behind the same rock as them and smiles. 

“Alright, that’s something I can work with.” 

He crawls over to the broken machine. All of the wires are ripped and burned, the metal is warped and twisted, everything is a mess. Quill rips one of the parts off, then another. He offers one to Gamora and she takes it. 

“I really hate that they’re attacking us just for being here. Why can’t we come to a peaceful solution?” Quill asks. 

“Because they think the same way a lot of people do. It’s us or them, and they won’t risk it being them that’s getting killed,” Gamora answers. 

“This is why the galaxy needs some peace. We wouldn’t be trying to kill each other if we weren’t so worried about invaders.” 

“I agree, but we’ll worry about that once we get off the planet.” 

Quill nods. “They don’t have guns, at least.” 

“At least.” 

The two leave their hiding place and rush the group of warriors. They knock out the warriors without killing a single one of them. 

“That was great,” Quill says between heavy breaths. “Very macho.” 

Gamora laughs. “Very.” 

Quill hears someone shout and he has enough time to turn around before being stabbed through the chest. 

Gamora watches one of the warriors get up and stab Peter. Peter falls to the ground. 

“ Peter !” 

The warrior pulls the blade out and runs at Gamora. Gamora wrestles the blade away from the warrior, then knocks them out with it. She runs over and puts pressure on the gushing chest wound. 

“No no no. Peter, you can’t die on me. I already got you back once, I can’t have you die on me.” 

“Hey, you know what would be fantastic?” Quill asks. 

“If you say making out, I will make saving you as painful as possible.” 

“No, pizza. Not everything’s about you, Gamora.” Quill smiles and Gamora pinches him. “Ow, rude. I’m already in enough pain, don’t you think?” 

Gamora sighs. 

The Bowie comes into view and Gamora starts waving with one hand. The ship lands and everyone comes rushing out. Drax picks up Quill like a rag doll and Gamora immediately starts fussing at Drax to be careful. Once they get him onto the ship, Gamora’s able to administer proper first aid. 

“How are you feeling, Peter?” Gamora asks once he’s settled on the bed in his room. 

“Fine,” Peter answers. “Outside of the dull pain in my chest. Which could either be from the stab or being denied affection.” 

Gamora rolls her eyes. 

“It could easily be either. You know that I’m very sensitive about this…” 

Gamora kisses Quill, then pats his arm. “Now we know that it’s from the stab wound.” 

Quill grabs Gamora’s hand. “Can you let Rocket pilot and just stay here with me, please?” 

“Yeah, I’ll stay here with you.” 

Gamora sits down and the two chat until Quill falls asleep folding Gamora’s hand.

[moonlight0934]

It's Us Or Them

Bellamy leans against the wall, staring at Clarke, who is drawing something with the kit that Dante gave her. She hasn’t noticed him staring, even though everyone else has. Miller walks up.

“Hey, what are you two being so uptight about?”

“You don’t think this is weird?” Bellamy asks, pulling his eyes away from Clarke.

“No, I think you and Clarke are being paranoid.”

Bellamy hums, turning back to Clarke.

“Maybe you’re right, or maybe not. I’ve been through enough to be at least a little cautious though.”

“Fine, I’ll let you two just plot all day instead of doing something fun or productive.”

He walks off, leaving Bellamy leaning against the wall. None of the rest of them are really talking to Clarke and Bellamy right now since they’re the only ones that aren’t fully convinced that Mount Weather is what they say it is. He walks over, then pulls himself up next to her on her bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks quietly.

“Shh, I don’t want you criticizing me right now.”

Bellamy looks over her shoulder.

“You’re drawing a map. Is it for us to get out of here?”

Clarke puts her pencil down, locking eyes with Bellamy.

“You really want to get out of here?”

Bellamy nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes, this place is off. Something’s wrong. Why was I picked up, and not anyone else?”

Clarke shifts so they’re facing each other.

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk. What happened after we closed the dropship door?”

Bellamy sighs.

“Well, everyone who knew to get away did. The Grounders didn’t understand why we were running, so only a few of them followed us. I broke off with Finn.”

“Wait, so Finn didn’t get caught in the fire?”

Bellamy shakes his head.

“No, and that’s what makes it all so weird. I was with him when I was grabbed. I was only a few feet away from him, and I’m pretty sure I was gassed. So I can only assume that it was a really small dose, and it didn’t reach him. However, if they really wanted to help, why are they telling us that everyone else is dead? There’s no way Finn just magically dropped dead.”

Clarke puts two fingers against her lip, contemplating.

“I don’t know. Maybe they don’t want to do the work to find them? It’s possible that he ran off once you got gassed. Do you know if the Ark had any survivors?”

Bellamy shakes his head.

“No, the only person that I’m sure survived was Finn.”

She deflates a little bit.

“I’m sure some of them had to have survived.”

“You saw how hard it came down,” Clarke replies, her voice soft.

“You’re right, but we have to hold onto something. I’m holding onto hope that Lincoln got my sister away, and that she’s ok. You can hold on hope for your mom, and for Finn.” He says the last part with a distant and sad tone.

Clarke puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure Octavia is fine.”

He nods.

“Yeah, I’m sure she is. Now, let’s refocus. What do you know?”

They continue talking, trying to figure out how to get out of the mountain. It takes a few days for them to figure out what was happening behind the scenes. It was while they were out, checking out the area behind the infirmary that the dorms were quarantined off. Clarke turns to Bellamy once the quarantine order is given over the speakers.

“What’s happening?” she whispers.

“I think you know the answer to that, Clarke. They’re going to hang our friends upside down and drain their blood.”

Before Clarke can answer, a guard turns the corner right beside them. He immediately grabs a fist full of Bellamy’s hair, kicking Bellamy’s right knee out from underneath him at the same time. Clarke lunges forward as Bellamy slams his head back into the other man’s nose. They quickly subdue the guard as quietly as they can.

Then they hear someone over the radio say, “Have you found the last two subjects?”

Bellamy clips the radio to his belt before turning back to Clarke.

“We have to do something.”

“I know, but what?”

“Well, first job should be getting to the command center so we can contact anyone still alive on the outside. Even if it’s just the remnants of camp, we get any backup that we can.”

Clarke nods. Bellamy grabs the guard’s gun before holding it out to Clarke. She looks down at it skeptically.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll take his belt and strangle people with it,” Bellamy says with a shrug.

“That… nevermind.”

Clarke takes the gun, checking it over briefly. They end up sneaking into the command center after taking a few more guards. Clarke shoots three of the men in the room while Bellamy gets the other four. He runs to barricade the door before the people outside can come see what all the noise is about.

“Ok, I got it, but I don’t know how long this is going to hold so we have to hurry. See if there are any broadcasting signals anywhere nearby, because the Grounders don’t have those.”

Clarke nods, tucking the gun in her waistband before searching the buttons.

“I don’t know how to do that,” she says after a minute.

“Come here, and hold the door. The desk is doing most of the work, but just put your weight against it. I’ll see if I can figure it out.”

“How would you know how to do that?” Clarke asks even as she runs over.

“Jasper gave me a rundown of how to run the radio systems that the Ark has along with a few of the other systems that he knew about, and it should be close enough, I hope,” he says, muttering the last part.

Clarke nods, obviously not hearing his muttering.

“Ok, well as long as you know what you’re doing.”

Bellamy spends a few minutes at the console before pressing a button and saying, “This is Bellamy Blake trying to reach anyone from the Ark.”

He turns to Clarke.

“I don’t know if the radio at camp is still working, but someone is broadcasting.”

The radio crackles then a voice comes over it. “Bellamy, where are you guys?” Raven asks though she sounds tired and in pain.

“We’re inside the mountain. We’re being held against our will, and they’re going to do something really bad if we don’t do something fast. I need some kind of idea, or backup. Do you have anything to tell me?”

“Well, we knew that there were people in the mountain, because the Grounders told us. I didn’t know you guys were there. Can you open the system so I can see what you have going on?”

“Like unencrypting it for you?” 

“Yeah, basically.”

“I guess I can if you tell me how to do that. Does that mean that people from the Ark actually survived?”

“Yeah, Kane and Abby are both here. Well, not like right here, but somewhere around here.”

Clarke turns so fast, her hair flying into her face. Bellamy flashes her a smile before turning back to what he’s doing. It takes a few minutes for Raven to walk Bellamy through the process of opening their systems so she can see how they work.

“Wick get over here,” Raven calls before putting the radio down. It’s quiet for a few minutes. “Ok, so bad news. We have access to their cameras now. They’re killing them.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know. They’re drilling into them or something.”

“Shit, they can’t leave the mountain. Apparently radiation is still a problem, just not for us, because of solar radiation or something. It probably has something to do with that. What can we do?”

It gets quiet again before Raven says, “Well, you could probably open all the exits from the console in front of you.”

“Wouldn’t that kill everyone?” Clarke asks, her tone tight.

“Yes, it would, but I don’t think the two of you could do anything else on your own. Just find out if you can do that with the console, and I’ll see if anyone else has any other ideas.”

She puts the radio down before either of them can respond. Clarke turns to Bellamy as he starts looking over the console.

“You’re not seriously thinking about doing that?”

Bellamy turns to her, his eyes soft.

“It’s us or them, Clarke. Are you willing to risk our people?”

She turns away.

“No, I’m not. Tell me if you find something. I can hear people banging on the door.”

“Yeah.”

By the time Raven comes back, Bellamy has looked over everything.

“I found something. It needs an override code though. Probably because it kills people, and I’d have to do each seal individually, because it’s not meant to irradiate the whole mountain.”

“Shit, maybe I can find the code somewhere. Let me look through their systems,” Raven says.

Bellamy pulls another cabinet in front of the door to put on top of the first one.

“Just in case.”

“I think they were talking about finding a blowtorch to melt through the door,” Clarke says, giving Bellamy a slightly panicked look.

“It’ll be ok,” he says before kissing her on the cheek. “Just hang in there, and we’ll deal with this.”

He walks back over to the console as Raven says, “Hang on, I got it.”

She gives Bellamy the code, and he puts it into the computer. He reaches for the lever, pausing. Then he turns off the cameras, not able to watch what he’s about to do. An alarm starts as soon as he pulls it the first time. He does the first two himself, but then Clarke appears beside him as he pauses again. His hand is shaking as it holds the lever. She grabs his hand gently, pushing it forward herself.

He blinks back tears as he puts the code in again. This goes on for another couple times before the alarms finally stop signaling that there’s no crisis anymore. Bellamy slides to the floor.

“That means there’s no one left that’s in danger, doesn’t it?” he whispers.

Clarke slides down next to him before leaning heavily against him.

“I think so.”

The first tear slips out of Clarke’s eyes, and Bellamy has to wipe his eyes to stop his from falling. He puts an arm around Clarke, but neither of them try to move again for a while after that. They don’t move until the backup from the Ark gets there, and even then they are still right next to each other, not really sure what to do now, or how to live with what they just did. 

[broadacre]

Quick reminder that it's always morally correct to punch nazis.

[iamthetruestrepairman]

women’s bodies weren’t “made” to do anything, nature didn’t “intend” anything, no human action is “unnatural” and there is no inherent “purpose” to a human life

[opera-ghost]

[guiiay]

jinx and isha visit a walmart