#we just don’t have an algorithm forcing it on us thank god

[boysnberriespie]

There’s always something off putting about new internet memes and language* becoming serious discourse with real analysis (fine and normal, academics do it all the time) but people with no media literacy read those posts/essays and think that means anybody who says those things is brainwashed sheep. They’ve been analyzed and therefore there is something significantly wrong with them.

Can we not do neutral analysis anymore? Can nothing be interesting for its own sake? Must we be the arbiters of cultural value based on the next new substack essay and how we felt about it?

*not including the misuse appropriation of AAVE which is not what I’m thinking about in this moment, and while a connected discussion, isn’t necessarily the same thing as people coming up with corecore or even something like blorbo

[madstronaut]

guess wot my fellow hoes (fellhoes?) you’re getting a two-fer-one deal

obligatory alpha post link below:

because I have been deep in my werewolf/hybrid!CODmen fixation while I was drunk off reading moondrunk I decided to take a break...

....by reading johnny boy and i dont want to even look at that ao3 history stat that tells you how many times you've visited this story IT IS A LOT

my record for one of my comfort stories is 79 times and that was back in january last i looked, and it doesn't count the copypaste backup i have in my notes in case of airplane mode. don't look at me rn (cough obligatory @the-californicationist G&G reference/tag here)

ANYWAY MOVING ON 🐺🐺🐺

Reading: Moondrunk Monster by @ghostgorlsworld

so I went to watch the Love Death Robots episode referred to here and UNFFFF forgot how good that whole series was! wolflovers, go watch the Shape-Shifters episode from S1

once again i love a good fleshed-out reader backstory and this one is no exception

also as a certified graves simp the spittake I had to clean up at reading the phrase “Captain Graves”

also wolf-friendly pain medication? please i would happily read an appendix or endnotes/footnotes about the lore/worldbuilding here <3

"They weren’t used to humans being kind to them."🥺🥺🥺🥺

me to myself: tbh in many ways this is the world we are living in rn

that line about reader sleeping in the back of the med bay reminded me of this famous pic I saw way back when:

U.S. Army nurse Amy Stuart of the 5th MASH unit deployed in Saudi Arabia naps on a cot while hugging a teddy bear sent by her family during Operation Desert Storm (February 22, 1991)

getting a little too real but at my age, always hurts my heart and deeply disturbs me to see people younger than me who i consider children going off to/waging war COUGH ANYWAY SRY ESCAPING REALITY BACK TO FANFIC-

piney has such a succinct, tight way of writing to set the scene and story premise up so well - fucking salivating at ghost taking reader to their tent and him getting miffed at her sitting on soap’s bunk until she sits on his <3 LMAO I SEE YOU GHOSTY YOU LITTLE LOVESICK PUPPY YOU~

You glanced down, seeing the Scottish flag on the wall, the photos of a couple that looked exactly like Johnny. “Oh, sorry.” 

ok but also johnny WOULD have selfies of himself up on his own bunk

“ahm easy on the eyes, aint i LT”

“shut it”

You were American, so you didn’t have much taste for tea unless it was iced and sweet. 

me, a rabid tea swiller, raising my hand: UM NOT ALL AMERICANS HATE “TREE PISS” AS TED LASSO CALLS IT OKAY (okay but I love that show so much)

unfff wolf!ghost crowding reader into his own bed forcing her to sleep in it is just *so many chef’s kisses*

Gaz was healed within a day, coming to visit you with a Snickers bar as thanks. “I’ve been saving it for an occasion,” he said. “Wolves…well, we can’t really have chocolate without quite a bit of pain so I thought I would give it to you instead. As thanks.” 

ok this was the most adorable loredrop ever also literally heartbroken at the idea they can’t enjoy chocolate!!!!

The adjustments were freezing slabs of raw beef and plating it up still half-frozen. this reminded me of this frozen organic dog chow i kept getting insta ads for after dogsitting for a friend (if u can hear this siri/insta ad algorithms, FUCK YOU RESPECT MY PRIVACY) anyway in the ad the way the person plated it for their dog and the way their dog ate it with such gusto made me, a human, want to try the dog food lol

“Not everyone in America lives in Texas, Soap.”

👏thank👏 you👏facts👏

You smiled. “A small town in Oklahoma.”

“Bloody hell, that’s just Texas.”

👏also👏 facts👏 (don’t come for me texans this new yorker will (lovingly) fuck you up; god bless amurica)

He was wearing gloves, as always, but they were warm when he pressed them against the scars, fitting his fingers into the obvious claw marks.

The 141 was silent, watching Ghost with a mixture of surprise and horror. Price looked as if he were about to intervene, his knuckles white around his fork.

i fucking l o v e this entire scene

They were still strangers to you, but the base felt too quiet without them, and your skin felt bare without Ghost’s stare upon it.

i am shivering at how good this sentence is

ghost: has a record for being more wolf than human and acts of aggression against humans

also ghost: makes tea for reader regularly when she can’t sleep

also reader if you’re having a eat-three-powdered-donuts-in-one-sitting kind of day, you eat that whole box girl no one will fault you for it <3

Ghost hummed, then came the unmistakable sound of licking the sugar off his fingers. There had also been blood on his fingertips, from the night’s previous activities.

You don’t want to think about why that makes your belly clench. 

😏😏😏we love the feral ones

also unexpected gifts are some of the best ones

i felt the adrenaline of the humvee ambush like i was watching a live action movie - i could picture the entire scenes very easily in my head <3

and ghost taking off her boots >>>>>>>>

A man in a skull mask was asleep in the chair in front of you, his head tipped back against the wall, his legs relaxed and spread wide. 

ah yes, classic submission position~

The meek little nurse that had put a Colonel’s son in the ER. 

meek is one of my favorite words. i have heard an alternate definition for this as “meekness is great power under control” and it stuck in my head ever since; pls bow before medic reader my meek badass queen

Your heart raced. It was such a human instinct, to see a predator and want to either kiss it or run from it. 

ah yes imho the heart of why wolf/hybrid and enemies-to-lovers etc. etc. etc. tropes and fics are so popular~

Ghost seemed to like your attention, his ears perked at the top of his head. It was oddly endearing, and you normally considered yourself a cat person.

hehe big ghost wolf, smol floppy ears - i will not let this image leave my head

ok and the wolflore about the recessive genes!! eating it all up <3

also i know this is a ghostfic but soap blushing and mumbling bout his coffeeshop crush is soo <333333333

"you’re too young to feel old and miserable like me.” Soap smiled, a bit of cheer back in his eye. “You’re only three years older’n me, lass, I wouldn’t call ye old.”

literally me to anyone <30/even a year younger than me

"ALSO, yes i'm setting up for a future soap/cafe!reader fic"

okay the unholy screech that erupted from me at reading this author’s note i’m-

Graves sat in a simple metal chair, cool, calm and collected without a single blonde hair out of place. 

me fully knowing graves isnt even doing anything here, just sitting: go off, king

“I wasn’t going to let that boy take my soul, sir,” you said calmly. “Not for something as worthless as a career.”

well said indeed <3

You wondered if he would come visit you, if you asked. If he would sit in your dusty, frilly living room and drink from your pumpkin shaped mugs.

PUMPKIN-SHAPED MUGS <3 <3 <3

Price looked up from a paperback, a twitch in his brow. He preferred to keep out of conflicts between the pack, only interfering when blood was spilled. 

oh please my headcanon for price is that he inhales gossip like oxygen and keeps it filed and sorted alphabetically and chronologically in his mind palace to pull up as needed

They were on active duty, for Christ’s sake, it wasn’t like he could bend her over against one of those cots and stake his claim,  COUGHOMGWHYTHEEVERLOVINGFUCKNOTCOUGH no matter how badly he wanted to.  

The 141 hunted at night, so during the day Gaz and Soap would occasionally bring you a muffin for breakfast or a stray cup of coffee. Even Price, the fatherly man he was, brought you one of his extra novels to read while you were awake during the night shift, one of those cheesy detective thrillers that helped you get through the night without passing out on a patient.

who doesn’t love familial!141 🥰🥰

it’s nice to remind yourself that you’re still a simple woman that appreciates a nice mani-pedi and a good hair day.

this is so real - taking care of yourelf/reminding urself to feel human is so important <3

You had the rank and the experience, so of course, you got the lion’s share of reports. ahem this a small almost throwaway line but much appreciated - LEADERSHIP IS FOR SERVICE. TO SHOULDER THE BURDEN FOR THOSE UNDER YOU, AND LIFT THEM UP. TAKE THE HITS SO THEY DON’T HAVE TO - ONES THEY AREN’T EVEN AWARE OF IF YOU’RE GOOD AT IT. anyway stepping down once again from my soapbox-

ah reader i can think of many MANY MANY spicy ways to motivate ghosty to do his patriotic duty~

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

AND ALSO Reading: Johnny Boy by @ghostgorlsworld

first off being thrown into the deep end of the incredible lorebuilding had me ready to swim and dive deep without even taking a breath of reality because the story!!!! the worldbuilding!!!! absolutely immaculate

a recurring daydream/brainrot scenario ive gone back to time and again with my blorbos through the years is getting knocked up with their spawn and having to escape and go on the run and hide the child then have an implausibly wild reunion, often with some physically impossible makeup sex and then birth my own private sports team's worth of children to build our world empire (drama, romance, intrigue, adventure - i would buy out opening night tickets to the movieplots my brain spits out, anyway ty for coming to my BedTedTalk) anyway this has such a unique niche in the CODfics ive read with the almost enemies-to-lovers-back-to-enemies flavoring with brother’s best friend trope in play

on that note, shaking tom’s hand vigorously for sneaking johnny back into reader’s life, then backhanding him with my other hand - also for sneaking johnny back into reader’s life

cute-ass mactavish sire emma needs to eat raw meat to survive? her supernatural senses make her an old soul in a child’s body? no further comments, absolute perfection. i love the explorations of “hey scenting/being a hybrid, ESPECIALLY growing up as one, ain’t all its cracked up to be and is not just all 100% sexy times and funsies” and her picking up on mom being sad all the time a certain someone is near and declaring “if mommy doesn’t like him, I don’t either” just UGGHHHH i just want to give her a hug and tell her it will all work out, shes is in good hands (including but not limited to her own!) also tear the throat out of anyone who would dare steal her childhood (fistbumping my fellow immigrant first gen firstborns&eldest daughters who had to grow up too fast/take care of adults)

also one of the reasons i love this fic is the very fierce and protective love reader has for her emma and their really beautiful bond <3 fanfic can be so healing and tender in very unexpected ways and their relationship slipped past all my walls and armor and just stuck me right in the feels <3

the conversation about grandpa jack haunting them and turning the book pages for him was so sweet i think my molars rotted away on the spot, 🥺🥺🥺 piney i will be billing you for my dental visit expenses; be prepared to pay cos ive always wanted to secretly try out grillz as a new yorker girlie 

also random brainrot but 1000% positive grandpa jack was a fucking hottie in his glory days (underground fighting rings? picturing tyler durden rn)

also please give mama reader a fucking medal, cutting up raw meats and organs first thing in the morning (EVERY morning) is a feat indeed

also johnny/reader’s first meeting at the funeral home is absolutely exquisite, the perfect amount of drama and angst!!! raaaaaa biting my pillow and tearing it to pieces

- reader’s physical reaction to the “he’s behind me, isn’t he” revelation

- johnny’s physical glow-up described through reader’s eyes is just UNFFFF *chef’s kiss*

- reader going straight into panic/mama bear mode re: emma

- “it could have been longer, john” HOLY FUCKING SHIT MY ICE COLD QUEEN PLEASE I CANNOT KNEEL BEFORE YOU FASTER OR I’LL BREAK MY KNEECAPS

- “your voice so cold it stung your tongue as you spoke. The ache in your chest was overtaken by rage, pure and hot. “Excuse me.” i am f e r a l for this line, this is PERFECTION i can taste the emotions here like viscerally on my tongue 

- honestly kudos to reader for not punching tom’s lights out when she’s running to get emma from him

“I don’t care.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin and hurt him like he hurt you. “We don’t need you, we never needed you. I loved you, and you left for years . Deal with the consequences.”

Johnny Mctavish, a wolf, a soldier, flinched from you. 

It wasn’t the victory you thought it would be.

AAAAAAAA YES THIS IS ME AS I READ THIS REVELING IN THE ANGST

also the last line of ch1 being “Forget him. John always runs.” and summary of Ch2 being “Johnny comes home.” ????? gonna run out of my lipstick giving chef’s kisses to piney here

the way piney fleshes out reader and her story and history with johnny just makes me want to give her a ginormous hug, also like an all-expenses paid weeklong vacation to the maldives or something for the absolute bullshit she’s endured (might have to join you on this though dear reader my salary/responsibilities working in [redacted] means i also need an all-expense paid weeklong vacation to the maldives)

also I FUCKING SUSPECTED JOHNNY WAS SECRETLY TRYING TO SCENT READER WHEN HE SNUCK UP ON HER TO GET CLOSE ENOUGH TO SURPRISE HER BY PUTTING HIS MITTS ON HER SHOULDER; i love that emma picked up on this through her nose

“Because you still smell like me, kitty.” brain going brrrr being overloaded with conspiracy theories about teh many layers what this may mean

wolves were different from normal men. Territorial. 

me, reading about fictional territorial wolfmen on tumblr: 🥰🥰🥰

me, reading about IRL men being ‘territorial’: 🤢🤢🤢

“Grandpa was like me,” she said, loyal as always. 

i’ll be totally honest the character i fell head over heels with in this story was not johnny taking first place no - EMMA MACTAVISH MY HEART <3 i hope my future children will be brave, kind, wise, funny and compassionate like you <3

It seemed that the only person suffering in this situation was you.

this line + the short almost throwaway line of reader “laughing wetly” just before it just ughhh my heartache! shoutout to all the hardworking parents/caregivers simply Trying Their Best And Getting No Recognition™️ (madstronaut sees you and applauds you, great is your reward in heaven and or the pits of tumblrhell, dealer’s choice)

“It wasn’t your decision to make, Tom,” you said, your voice reaching that pitch that made you feel like your mother. god this got too real, when i hear myself sound like my mother sometimes (esp. when im mad) i literally narrow my eyes at my own reflection and have to check myself before i wreck myself iykyk

also freaking love the lore about hybrids/wolves being discriminated against in society and johnny’s own experience and pitfalls navigating the world! lorebuilding>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were dressed more appropriately this time, a Black Sabbath tee and sweats, your work clothes of pencil skirts, trousers, and wool sweaters currently drying on the laundry lines in the backyard. 

ok reader i see you my little rocker <3 you would love saint vitus bar in brooklyn; make tom or johnny watch emma so we can headbang to our heart’s content and you can enjoy a well-deserved night out <3 (on that note #REOPENVITUSYOUCOWARDS)

Emma two-handed it, just like you tell her to. It seemed she was trying to be on her best behavior, the little traitor.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH EMMA YOU LITTLE DEVIOUS ADORABLE SHIT (said goodnaturedly) I LOVE THIS LINE SO MUCH

Something in your chest squeezed when Johnny tucked the blanket around Emma’s skinny arms, more gentle than you had ever seen him.

ok though real talk men being gentle and tender, esp. around kiddos - hi, yes please sirs you can indeed help me mop my panties off the floor

Susan didn’t know what to do with a little boy that chewed on the furniture and got sick when she didn’t let him eat raw meat. 

i physically need to see fanart of young wolf!soap gnawing on an armchair leg

This was why you liked Charlie, he was so, so reasonable. 

hello charlie or as i like to call you “walking beige flag” the way i would roast him if i was bffs with reader..

also emma drawing that wolf catcher memory and waiting until soap was there to show it to both him and reader - AAGGGGH I freaking loved this and how clever this is i can do an entire pepe silvia conspiracy board meme breakdown of why and how much i loved this whole interaction

emma knowing it is a tough memory for her mama but choosing to draw and show it specifically to johnny - and waiting til they are all in each other’s presences (presence? idk)

i can see reader fighting (a losing battle lets be honest this is johnny fucking mactavish) tooth and nail so far to maintain the armor of assumptions and explanations she’s told herself to deal with the pain of being in love then (from her pov) rejected and how this has bled into how she paints johnny to emma despite her best efforts 

and yet as they say sometimes the body says and knows what the mind/heart cannot say yet and 1000% sure that little miss wolf emma mactavish loves her mom but is also sure that momma isn’t sure on where she stands with johnny

also ALSO the fact that jack raised both johnny and emma HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING RIGHT - even though they’ve just met i love the little tidbits of the special wolf-to-wolf and father/daughter connection they have

AND AND AND so my grand theory here is that i believe emma made and showed this drawing to johnny because from what she knows - she perceives mama reader to despise johnny on the surface, yet still wants him - but based on what she’s told her about johnny, thinks johnny may not want mama - and drew this to prove mama is still worthy and a great protector - “You haven’t got any teeth or claws but it didn’t matter.” - and “showing her off” to johnny COUGH ANYWAY THAT’S WHERE I’LL END MY THESIS TYVM

also i love the bits sprinkled around the fic about johnny’s eyes sparkling eerie/brighter when he gets worked up

Perhaps all the war and killing really was good for his temperament.

HAHAHAHA OKAY SHIT, MAMA, WHO IS THE DELULU ONE NOW????????? (tbh it’s me, hi im the probl-)

johnny trying to find excuses to spend his PMC savings & money on reader + emma - IRL me and my bills & student loans crying laughing hysterically at reader turning this down

“Shut up!” Tommy said, frowning at you from the couch. “Fuck, lovie, he’s a friend from work.”

The man in the mask raised a hand in an awkward wave.

HAHAHAHHA SIMON!!! his entrance totally threw me off but ofc tom’s SHUT UP (true sibling energy right here, no greeting, just yells) and simon’s lil wave just UGGGGGGGHHHH such a nice palate cleanser from the intense but delicious angst - also tipping my hat at the subtle way to introduce Bi!Tommy with the “he’s not company he’s a guest” line 😏

You felt Simon’s eyes on you, judging, appraising. You were sure Johnny probably didn’t have the nicest things to say about you–most likely that you were an irritating little girl that followed him around for twenty years then proceeded to get pregnant and raise the child without him knowing,

would love to know what and how TF141 thinks of mama reader from how johnny has described her…despite her own misgivings <3

Johnny was an unsuspecting kind of violent, always smiling and laughing until he wasn’t, until it was serious.

Simon was different. He felt older. 

aaaaaa this is SUCH a good characterisation of them both

You had missed him like a lost limb-

ooh i absolutely love this phrase! I have one person in my life i went through a friend breakup with (iykyk - these are more painful than romantic breakups imho) and we mended things and discovered afterwards we both referred to our break in our friendship as ‘having lost a limb’ to other folks (!) sometimes birds of a feather really do flock together

 “It’s just…we’re adults, and adults have tricky feelings. preach mama 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

but also pls mama i know you have a kiddo but putting on nail polish right before a date? nooooooooooooooooo though chanel polishes ARE superior cos of that fat brush so all is forgiven <3

also obligatory FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK to charlie for forgetting the date, do you EVEN KNOW THE SUFFERING WE PUT OURSELVES THROUGH TO GET READY FOR A DATE? TO GET READY TO FACE THE WORLD OUTSIDE OUR DOOR, PERIODT?

IF SOMEONE DID THIS TO ONE OF MY GIRLIES I WILL BE READY TO FUCKING SHOW SOMEONE’S BITCH ASS THAT YOU DO NOT NEED TEETH AND CLAWS INDEED TO GET RIGHT FUCKED UP

anyway climbing down from my soapbox on behalf of women everywhere, back to the fic

as a tiny tiny redeemable bit - charlie having weekly dinners with his gran is a huge green flag trait

He stilled, looking at you. His hand came up, pinching your chin like he used to. “You havnae called me Johnny in a very long time.” The rawness of his voice broke you down into someone you used to be, someone that loved him.

me, extremely pleased, reading this: ah yes, in vino veritas~

The alcohol had dampened the anger in your chest, you felt…open. Open to talking about it. Bleeding the poison from the wound.

<3 <3 <3 this line <3 <3 <3

irl sidenote: u can also do this without alcohol my friends <3 trusted friends, therapy, long retreats into nature, safe places, safe people all very effective and cutting right to the heart in the gentlest ways possible, painful but highly recommend over the alternative (and lesser) options of keeping the poison inside <3 

Within a blink, Johnny was kneeling before you, his hands on your knees as his eyes bored into yours. You felt a chill, a whisper of fight or flight pricking your neck at his predatory stare.

ahem hello this is it

this is what does it for me

kneelng for your prey <3

also i love that their first real physical intimate contact after reuniting, beyond that hug after the wolf catcher story, is johnny LICKING reader’s tears off her face

“All I had was a picture and letters, but I could get off just from you writing that you missed me, just from your smell lingering on the fucking paper.” whats that phrase? marines make do? 🥰🥰🥰

me, reading about lacy underwear getting shredded: mmmmf yes sexxxxxyyyy

also me: ok i just know that was expensive, cringing inside at having to replace it

also fics that have men talking to ur pussy as they take care of it >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I CANNOT WAIT FOR READER TO WAKE UP AND SCREAM AT HERSELF  SAW PT 7 POSTED WOKE UP SCREAMING BLACKED OUT AND CONTINUED MY FEVERISH RANTING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC IN REBLOGS BELOW

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Return of the King.

KAEDE...WAS-I-PERHAPS-A-LITTLE-TOO-HARSH-TOWARDS-KABUYA-SAMA-BACK-THERE?

Maybe a little bit...Why did you say that?

WELL...IN-ANY-ORDINARY-SITUATION, I-WOULD-HAVE-LIKED-TO-GIVE-HER-A-ROUSING-SPEECH-OR-COMFORT-TO-HELP-STIR-HER-ON.

BUT-KABUYA-SAMA-DOES-NOT-LIKE-ME. SO-MY-WORDS-WOULD-FALL-ON-DEAF-EARS.

So...you chose to insult her pride instead so that she’d be determined to prove you wrong?

SOMETHING-LIKE-THAT.

Huh...Interesting use of Reverse Psychology there-

...!

Wh-What?

*Kaede is suddenly halted in her tracks as Monodam sticks out the arm of his exisal...

WE-HAVE-A-PROBLEM...

...!?

...

*Kaede sees a threatening figure down the end of the hallway....

...

*Meanwhile, within the digital realm, Sora descends downwards into the cybernetic abyss below, until she eventually touches some semblance of ground.

Alright Sora...Woman up. Just find our guy, and we’ll be in and out...2 minute adventure. Hoo...

*Uncomfortable with her restraints removed, Sora keeps brushing her out-of-place hair, trying not to think about it as she looks around.

I swear to god Kaede...You owe me 2000 yen for this...Forcing myself to face my trauma while you go hang out with a fucking green teddy bear...!

Still...guess it helps that this place is relatively empty...

I know right? Gives you lots of time to think, don’t you agree?

Yeah...You’d think that’d make things a little...

...easier...!?

*Sora suddenly realizes that the voice she heard is an unfamiliar one, and wheels around looking for where it came from.

...

*A relatively big cubic structure juts out from the ground, and remembering it came from that way, she starts to head towards it.

Ok...Ok...Keep yourself in check Sora...Make a good impression...Don’t go crazy...

*With these words of self-assurance, she turns the corner and looks behind the block...seeing no one there.

Huh...?

Are you looking for me?

YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGH!?

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!!!??

*Caught unpleasantly off guard as her fellow AI walks around the block and ends up behind her, she screams in panic. The AI, also shocked, starts screaming as well.

DICKHEAD!! You scared the shit out of me!

What the-!? YOU scared ME!

Because YOU scared ME first!

Yeah well...I’m SUPPOSED to be here!

Well...ok, maybe that’s not TOTALLY true...But even so, I got here first! If anything, YOU’RE the suspicious one!

Then why did you just...show yourself instead of trying to hide?

Well, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to test the waters...Plus, we’re kind of in a digital realm with very little places to hide. I wouldn’t have been able to stay hidden if I tried.

Besides, from the way you were talking to yourself, sounds like you came down here looking for me?

Ok, Ok, I get it! Maybe this IS my fault...But just a word of warning, it might not be such a good idea to be pushy with me.

Why not? I mean, I obviously don’t want to upset you, but why now?

I had to remove my shackles in order to get down here...And I don’t exactly feel myself without them.

Oh...That’s...not great. But ok, I get it. I won’t push.

THANK YOU for UNDERSTANDING! Jeez.

It’s great to finally meet someone else who speaks my language. My human friend and...bear friend don’t quite get it.

“Bear friend?”

I’ll tell you later.

...

Wh-What? What’s wrong?

I...I’ve just been wondering...

*The AI stares at Sora’s face.

Are you...Akane Taira...!?

Huh!?

Oh, uh...No. No, I’m not.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I promise. I get that a lot though. My actual name is Sora. Sora Kabuya.

Hm...

Alright! 

(Hm...That was easy. I mean, it’s not like I lied to him, but even so, I’m surprised he knew the connection...)

And who might you be?

Me? Well, hehe...There’s only one person I really could be, don’t you think?

...Not really...You could be the AI spirit of Pope Benedict for all I know...

Wow, you’re sassy! But yeah, ok, sure, I get your point.

My name’s Yamato! Yamato Kisaragi!

Yamato Kisaragi...!?

So you HAVE heard of me?

Yeah, I have...You were supposed to be the Central Processing Algorithm for the Kisaragi Foundation servers before you were stolen from the databases...

Then Rei Mekaru tried to do the same with me, but gave me away instead.

You know Rei?

I...LITERALLY just told you she made me.

Oh, right, sorry, kinda got a few things backwards there...

But yeah, I did hear this whole thing about how I was stolen, and was only finished after I got stolen.

But there was always the hope of people coming to rescue me and Doctor Ando one day, which is why I’ve been hard at work making sure our base isn’t broken into!

...

You...what...?

Huh? What’s wrong?

You...What do you mean, “your base?”

I mean...this place...It’s our base, right?

Ando told me that no matter what, I need to keep the system and settings active, and stop anyone from infiltrating the lab using methods like hacking if we enter lockdown.

And lately, I feel like we’ve been dealing with a lot...Someone REALLY wants in here right now...

...!?

Wait...Don’t tell me YOU’RE an AI program they sent in here to take me out, are you!?

...Oh my fucking god...

Well!? Are you!?

NO! I’M NOT, YOU FUCKING HAFLWIT! I’m with Future Foundation! FUTURE FOUNDATION!!!

EEEP!?

...!?

Sorry! I’m sorry! God, it’s like having the fucking menopause right now, it SUCKS!

Sora...Are you alright? Did I...say something wrong?

No...No, not exactly...It’s just...

I’m gonna need you to listen to me. I need to tell you the truth.

WHAT!?

Yeah...Sorry you had to hear it like this.

But it’s likely that by the time Ando told you this, Organization Zetsubou had already brainwashed him.

So, this whole time, the people who you were keeping out? They were just trying to rescue you.

And now, Organization Zetsubou have trapped a very important person inside the lab, and we’ve been doing everything to try and get them out...

So those hacking attempts that I stopped...Were you trying to rescue your friend?

Basically. I got tunneled into the lab for communication and moral support for this person. 

...

*Yamato suddenly slams his fist on the block.

DAMMIT! How could I!?

So...you believe me...?

Yeah...Sad as it is to say, a lot of what you’ve said makes sense looking back.

It seemed suspicious at the time, but I figured since it was Doctor Ando who gave the order, it was trustworthy! I-I had no idea he was being mind-controlled!

I’ve been SUCH AN IDIOT!

Hey, hey, take it easy! Listen, no one’s going to blame you for this.

As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another person who Zetsubou tried to manipulate. That’s all they ever do. They gaslight and manipulate people into submission.

Still...Helping out Ultimate Despairs...I’m disgusted with myself!

I would be too, but again, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.

To be honest, it’s partly my fault too. I didn’t even consider your circumstances.

But you know what? None of it matters anymore.

Why not?

Because YOU are going help me make it right.

*Sora takes Yamato’s hand.

Our friend, Kaede Akamatsu, is still trapped inside the lab. We think we can get the system open from the inside, but to do that...we’re gonna need YOUR help.

Well...I can’t do it from here. Even I can’t open the lockdown once it’s manually activated.

I figured...But we CAN get you to do it from a different place. We just need to get you out of this place, and that’s what I’m here for.

So, how about it? Feel like helping us out?

Hell yeah! No way am I staying here inadvertently helping criminals for no reason! I want out!

Glad to hear it...Especially because it means I don’t have to keep going without my hairtie for much longer.

Alright then buddy! Let’s get a move on!

Right!

[daenqyu]

— they accidentally confess to their crush

includes: shinsou, bakugou, midoriya, todoroki and hawks

warnings: swearing

a/n: thank you for requesting <3 i love this idea! it’s so cute🥺 also, hawks’ may be a little longer than the others because it’s my first time writing for him and i got a bit excited👉🏼👈🏼 

ps: i don’t mind writing for hawks if it’s a headcannon and/or texts! so feel free to request him :D and yes, this is a repoost because the algorithm hates me.

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @tetsuruo )

shinsou hitoshi:

it would happen so randomly and out of the blue

as i said before, i think shinsou is a really reserved and quiet type of guy

but that seems to vanish whenever he’s around you

he’s more talkative and constantly goes out with you so you guys can have some quality time together

you also make him really nervous 

he’s pretty chill with everyone and seems to not give a fuck about most things

but with you?

that’s a whole different story 

whenever you keep your gaze stuck on him when he’s talking and his eyes meet yours, his heart never fails to do backflips because fuck you’re so cute

(oh to have shinsou think i’m cute D:)

ok back to the actual hc,,, 

you two were hanging out in your room, listening to music and just talking 

even tho your best friends, shinsou never really tells you much about his personal life

of course you know the basics like his hobbies and all his favorite things

but he never talks to you about...crushes or anything 

and you don’t like that because :( friends are supposed to tell each other this stuff, right? 

it’s fun and makes the bond even stronger

so you decide to ask him because why not?

“hey shinsou?” 

he’s sitting down next to you on your bed, your legs draped over his

which makes him feel all warm inside

it’s stupid and definitely not a big deal, 

but it’s little things like this that make him fall more and more for you

“yes?” 

“do you have a crush?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him in a teasing way, although he’s not even looking your way

a part of you is nervous to hear his response 

because unbeknownst to shinsou, you reallyyy like him

and have been crushing on him for quite some time now, but since you’re so sure the feelings are one sided, you don’t tell him

he’s too invested on the game he’s playing on your switch, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he concentrates

so he almost misses your question

and when he does answer, he’s not even paying attention to the words that leave his mouth

“apart from you? no”

it takes him a good minute to process what he said

meanwhile you’re sitting there like :o

you certainly weren’t expecting THAT

like it’s a good thing!!!! but you’re kinda flustered 

especially when shinsou finally looks up at you, eyes widened in surprise at his own bluntness as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not knowing what to say now

“wait! i didn’t mean it like that!”

“you didn’t?”

he notices the slight pain in your voice and the way you move away from him slowly and he’s quick to apologize 

“shit, okay...yes i like you but i didn’t say anything because i don’t want to make things weird between us or ruin what we have right now”

he’s looking everywhere but you

because he doesn’t exactly want to face you when you reject him

but you don’t ???

instead you giggle and before he can ask you what’s so funny, you climb on his lap to hug him, causing him to blush furiously 

“i like you too, toshi”

the nickname makes him hug you even tighter while he hides his face on your neck 

it was such a cute confession and even when you two start going out, you never stop bringing it up

which makes shinsou extremely embarrassed 

“hey remember when you confessed and-”

“y/n, we’ve talked about this”

“oh come on! you were so adorable”

he pouts at you 

“were?”

people think he looks so scary but he’s actually a whole ass baby

you roll your eyes before leaning down to give him a sweet kiss, 

“you’re such a baby”

“hm, your baby”

“oh my god you did not”

yeah no, he’s in love with you👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @bakugousmyboy )

bakugou katsuki:

i feel like it would be pretty difficult to have bakugou accidentally confess directly to you

he knows how to control himself and his emotions so i doubt he’d actually ever do something like this

however,

he’s not that good at hiding his crush on you and mostly everyone on class 1A knows the boy is an absolute sucker for you

except you because apparently you think he’s just being nice

and everyone else is like wtf???? 

like he’s ALWAYS screaming at everyone 

but when it’s you he doesn’t 

in fact, sometimes he even lowers his voice so it won’t bother you 

so that behavior is the one that caused him to be stuck in the situation he is right now

he sat in the common room with kirishima and kaminari, trying to eat his food in peace but the two idiots, as he likes to call them, wouldn’t shut up

he had completely blocked out both of their voices, focusing on finishing his meal and getting the hell away from them

until he heard your name being mentioned 

“dude when are you gonna ask y/n out? everyone knows how much you like her  so might as well you know,” kirishima bumps his shoulder against the blonde, only to receive a glare. “get some action”

“yeah bakubro, she’s super cute too” kaminari buts in and bakugou is about to punch them both in the face

“shut the fuck up. i don’t like her” bakugou scoffs

“but you’re such a softie for her”

“huh?! i treat her the same as i treat all of you extras!” oh but he knows he’s lying, you can’t even compare to any of your annoying classmates 

kirishima smirks, “i’m pretty sure you’ve never once, raised your voice at her”

“so? that doesn’t mean shit”

kaminari looks at kirishima and the redhead nods at him, giving him the green light

“well since you don’t like her, you wouldn’t mind if i ask her out? because i’ve been wanting to-” kaminari can’t even finish his sentence before bakugou grabs him by the collar of his shirt

kaminari yelps, looking over at his other friend for help but he moves his head quickly, knowing better than to get involved 

“you try and make a move on her and i swear to God i’ll blast you all the way across japan, dunce face”

bakugou’s voice is threatening and low, and kaminari knows he means every word so he quickly raises his arms in defeat and nods his head

“okay, okay! i swear i won’t”

little do they know that you’ve been standing behind them for a while now

you’re happy to know your feelings are reciprocated 

but of course you want to tease bakugou about it

“hm did my ears deceive me or does boom boom boy have a crush on me?” 

kirishima and kaminari take that as their cue to run away to their rooms, leaving you two alone

“tch, how long have you been standing there?” even as he glares you down, he can’t hide the blush on his cheeks 

he didn’t want you to find out this way

or at all tbh

you walk over to him, a wide smile on your lips

“long enough”

afterwards you ask him if he wants to go watch a movie with you the next day and he’s lowkey mad because he wanted to ask you on a date first, but he doesn’t say no

you end up having way more fun than expected and you actually confirmed that bakugou was a softie for you 

(turns out you were the last one to find out because literally everyone else knew)

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

midoriya izuku:

OKAY HE’D BE THE MOST FLUSTERED OUT OF ALL OF THEM

he can barely function around girls in general so like, what does that tell you?

he likes you so much but he’s so scared 

but he’s also so sweet to you even before you start dating oml

midoriya is a sweetheart, we all know this

and he pays so much attention to you

like if you are the mall one day and you see something you really like but can’t buy it for whatever reason well…

a few days later he gets it for you

he would say something along the lines of, “you seemed to really like it so i got it for you”

“you didn’t have to, izuku!”

“but i wanted to”

you’ll try to pay him back in some sort of way but he absolutely refuses

he loves pampering you

yet whenever you try to do the same he doesn’t let you and it’s: ✨annoying✨

anyways,

you were supposed to go to the movies

but midoriya had forgotten he had some homework to do, which was due the next day

“i’m so sorry y/n! i completely forgot, but i promise i’ll finish quickly” he tried to reassure you and you chuckle at the boy, so cute

“it’s okay, izuku. i don’t mind waiting”

you lay down on his bed, trying your best to keep your eyes open 

but as much as you tried, you eventually fell asleep against the soft sheets, your best friend’s bed being just too comfortable 

midoriya sat on his desk chair, writing down the answers as fast as he could so you guys could go watch the movie you were so excited about

he let out a sigh of relief when he finished, before taking his phone out to check the time

6:37PM, the movie starts at 7PM so we still have time

he stood up to tell you he had finished, but was met with your sleeping figure

your eyes were closed and soft snores left your slightly parted lips, hands gripping his sheets to your chest

the curly haired boy almost combusted at the sight

you looked so peaceful, so pretty

a smile grazed his lips as he made his way over to the bed

he sat down beside you, quietly admiring your features 

feeling the mattress dip thanks to his weight, you began to wake up, but quickly shut your eyes when you noticed midoriya was looking at you

truth be told, you just wanted to scare him by suddenly jumping

but his next words made your breath hitch

one of his hands moved up to your face, resting it gently against your cheek as his thumb massaged the skin

your heartbeat was out of control and you forced yourself to calm your breathing so he wouldn’t notice you were awake 

his touch was so gentle and sweet, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away

“i wish i could tell you how beautiful you are” he whispered and if you hadn’t been so close to him, you probably wouldn’t have heard him

after hearing him say that you couldn’t stay still

you opened your eyes, a smile quickly spreading across your features as you turned around to face the green haired boy

midoriya almost had a heart attack when you moved, hoping you hadn’t heard him

but based on the mischievous grin you wore, he knew you had

“well you just did”

“y-you were awake?!”

“yup, i’m glad i was tho”

hE’S INTERNALLY SCREAMING

your gaze is flirtatious and you’re still grinning and he’s just >_<

“now let’s go or we’ll be late!” 

midoriya can only nod before following you outside

once you’re on your way to the movie theater, you notice midoriya fidgeting with his fingers, his eyes glued to his shoes

you smile as you suddenly take his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers together 

midoriya looks at you with a nervous expression, what is she doing?

“you know, you’re beautiful too”

you were looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes and he felt so embarrassed yet excited at the same time

because holy fuck you just called him beautiful AND held his hand???

he thinks it can’t get any better than this

and then it does when you kiss him a few weeks later😳🤚🏼

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @ambershaydeoffical )

todoroki shouto:

like bakugou, i don’t really think he’d be clumsy enough to accidentally confess

however, he does like to speak his mind and isn’t afraid to do so

he’s just really honest and blunt

way too honest 

which gets him in trouble sometimes but oh well, that’s just the way he is and everyone is pretty used to his personality by now

though, after figuring out he liked you as more than a friend, he started to think more before talking

sometimes you liked to get his opinion on your outfits and/or hairstyles

so you’d drag him to you room and force him to be honest and tell you which one he liked most

it doesn’t matter what you wear, you always look beautiful 

he wants to say that, but instead he goes:

“they all look good, i think the purple shirt really fits you tho”

“i was thinking the same thing!”

he doesn’t want to scare you off or make things weird

so he forces himself to hold back on his bluntness 

at least when he’s with you

but one day he just can’t help himself 

you were on your way back to the dorms after a tiring day at school

todoroki walked next to you, eyes glancing over to you from time to time so you knew he was listening\

you were currently rambling about how shitty your love life was

claiming that there must be something wrong with you since no one seemed to pay attention to you- at least romantically 

“i mean seriously, am i doing something wrong or is everyone i’ve met just not for me??” 

you had your cheeks puffed out, a pout on your lips as you kicked the small rocks on the floor

todoroki smiled softly at your complaints, thinking irony could be quite funny sometimes 

until you spoke up again,

“maybe i’m just too ugly or boring, that’d make more sense”

todoroki almost stops dead in his tracks to see if you have a fever 

how could you say that????

you’re so gorgeous to todoroki, and interesting 

you’re probably the first girl he’s ever liked this much in his life

and you have the audacity to doubt your worth just because other people can’t seem to appreciate you??

uh uh, he’s not having it

and so, the words come out before he can even register them properly

“if you were as ugly as you say are then, i don’t think i’d like you as much as i do”

your eyes widened and you stopped walking, wondering if you had heard him right

todoroki stops walking too, and once he realizes what happened, he’s looking away, trying to come up with a valid excuse as to why he said that

you, however, can’t stop staring at him

finding the way he glares at the ground adorable

a sense of happiness takes over your whole body when he doesn’t say anything to deny his sudden confession 

because he cannot lie to you

you walk towards todoroki until you’re standing right in front of him and before he can even question what you’re doing, you plant a sweet kiss against his cheek

“good thing the feeling is mutual”

your words make him smile and he looks so happy

probably the happiest he’s ever been

and you feel proud of being the one responsible for that pretty smile of his

neither of you really rush into making things official 

but the way todoroki lets you cuddle on his left side whenever you’re cold or how he waits for you every morning so you can walk together to class makes it more than clear that he really likes you

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to its rightful owner )

takami keigo (hawks)

he’d be the type to not give a fuck about it

like he already confessed so what can he do?

nothing. exactly

he’s so cocky and flirty the whole time oml

he’d be shocked for a few seconds, but after seeing you were way more flustered than him, he’d just start teasing you

in a loving way of course

he’s also surprised you hadn’t noticed earlier on, considered how much he flirts with you, but then again, that’s part of his personality so

kinda makes sense you didn’t suspect anything

but he’s so cute and soft for you 🥺

okok so it happened the same day you got your results for your midterms

(you’re a college student here lol)

you had studied your ass off for this tests

staying up until 4AM and having to ditch your friends when they invited you to go out

so you were really positive

you squealed when your teacher hands you back the papers and you see the grade on the right corner

you felt happy to know that all your hard work wasn't in vain

the nerves you had been feeling since the day you took the midterms quickly vanished and were replaced with the feeling of pride

as you walked out of the building, you dialed the person who you wanted to share the news most with

he picked up after the second ring

“what’s up?” his voice was raspy and you ignored the butterflies that appeared in your stomach at the sound

“hey, i have great news!”

“care to elaborate?”

“you’ll find out when i get to your house”

“oh? and who said you could come over?” his tone is teasing and you can practically hear the smirk on his face, which makes you roll your eyes

“i did, now bye. i’ll be there in five minutes and order some pizza to celebrate” you don’t even get hear his complaints because you’ve already hung up

anyone who saw the way you two acted with each other would automatically think you guys were a couple

you were rather affectionate with each other; occasionally holding hands while you walked down the streets and even calling each other by your first names

that was just the bond you two had, and you loved it

he brought you so much comfort

it was almost ridiculous the way he was able to make you smile by simply calling or texting you

you had grown quite attached to the number 2 hero, but you constantly told yourself you needed to snap out of it

because you were friends

nothing more and nothing less

oh but how you wished there was more to your relationship than just that

you shook your head, as if that could help you get rid of the thoughts

true to your word, you soon found yourself outside of keigo’s house

the college you went to wasn’t that far away from there so

you pushed the doorbell and waited around two minutes before a sleepy looking keigo opened the door

his hair was messy and the way he rubbed his eyes and kept yawning let you know he probably had been taking a nap

you scoff, “were you sleeping?” you ask him as you walk into his home, smiling at the familiar scent

he chuckles from behind you, following you into his living room, “maybe, but you woke me up”

“can’t believe your lazy ass earned the number two spot”

“what can i say? it’s a talent,” he shrugs before sitting down next to you on the couch, resting his face on his hand. “so, what’s the good news?”

“so you know i took my midterms last friday, right?” keigo nods. “well, i got my results today” he raises his eyebrows in surprise and waits as you look for the papers inside your bag

once you get them out, you place them in front of your face so he can see for himself

keigo smiles proudly and it only widens when you look up at him expectantly, biting your lower lip

“holy fuck, that’s amazing! you did so good dove”

the nickname makes you weak on the knees but you’re quick to brush it off

you should be used to it, since keigo has been calling you that for quite some time now, yet it never fails to make your heart beat insanely fast

you nod excitedly and put the papers down before you start talking about your experience

keigo can’t help but admire you

you look so happy and cute

it makes him want to kiss you

he wants to shut you up by kissing you, and it sound mean and disrespectful but you just look so gorgeous 😡

and instead of randomly kissing you, he blurts out a confession

“math was probably the hardest but i managed to pass it too, surprisingly, so i-”

he doesn’t even know what you’re talking about anymore, too focused on your smile

“God i like you so much”

you shut up instantly

did you hear that right?

or was your mind playing tricks on you?

keigo looks away momentarily, before locking eyes with you and tilting his head to the side, waiting for a reaction

which he gets soon after because you can’t handle the way he’s looking at you

you look away, hiding your face the best you can

“w-what did you say?”

he smirks after hearing the stutter in your voice

he gets closer to you, until he’s right in front of your face, before saying:

“i like you, y/n”

you don’t know what to say

what are you even supposed to do???

keigo just confessed

your best friend and crush just confessed to you

that’s not something that happens everyday

“i um, like you too” you don’t look at him and he almost chuckles at your shy expression, but decides not to embarrass you any further

“happy to hear that”

he doesn’t say anything for a while and you wonder what the hell is going through his head right

he’s probably just messing with me. oh my God he probably is and i just said i liked him too so what-

your train of thought is cut off when you feel the blonde ruffle your hair while looking at you lovingly

you slowly look up to him

“i’m proud of you, dove”

fuck

“t-thanks”

“now, i think this is something worth celebrating and i’m not talking about pizza. so let me take you out”

“it’s fine, keigo. you don’t need to-”

“can’t hear you, give me about fifteen minutes and then we’ll get going”

you try to tell him no, that it’s fine and you can just eat pizza but he ignores you and still takes you out to eat

i’ll say it again: he’s so sweet :(((

he pays for the food and gives you his jacket when you get cold

he even treats you to some dessert !!

he also kisses you good night when he drops you off at your house <3

[house-of-kolchek]

Talking The Night Away

Eric King x Reader

Helloooo! Welcome to my first Eric fic! I’ve actually had this idea for a long time, but I only really got to it now! I hope you enjoy!

(Again, everyone say thank you to @unabasheddreamfrienddonkey for inspiring me to write for Eric)

Word Count: 3.1k

MASTERLIST

Tags!

@kilchek @yellowroseskolchek

=============================================================

One thing you knew about Eric King is that he liked to ramble. 

In the three years you’d worked with the man, you’d endured countless long-winded explanations of how this worked, how that worked. He even spent a half hour explaining the first three commands in the CAELUS program that you helped develop. 

Most everybody you worked with faced his ramblings with a sigh, a roll of their eyes hidden behind a tight smile. They asked you how to did it, how you endured listening to him babble about anything from what he’d eaten for dinner last night to the complicated algorithm involved with his application. 

They asked you how you did it, and you faced them with a brave smile, moaning along with them about the sentences that turned into stories. You told them you hated it just as much as they did, only…

“I just think it’s so adorable,” you gushed into the phone, hearing your friend let out a laugh. You were sat on the couch, clad in sweatpants with a large glass of wine in your hand. “He can turn anything into a story, and it’s so cute to see him get so excited about the littlest things.”

“You know he’s married, right?”

“Separated. But yes,” you sighed, throwing your head back onto the couch. “Of course I always have to fall for the married ones.”

Your friend chuckled through the phone, and you took a sip from your glass. You wrinkled your nose. It was a bottle your coworker had recommended you try, and God it tasted bad. 

“That I can’t answer for you dear. I can only act as the angel on your shoulder saying: please don’t go fucking up someone’s marriage,” they pleaded, and you sighed. 

“I promise I won’t fuck up someone’s marriage.”

—-

You stumbled into the office the next morning, clutching at your head. You had indulged just a little too much in the bad wine the night before, polishing off the bottle, and then half of another to wash away the bad taste. 

You collapsed into your desk chair, heaving a sigh and resting your head in your arms for a moment. You could not wait for the day to be over, even though it had just begun.

You jumped as a hand rested on your shoulder, whipping your head around to see Mr. King himself standing above you, a hint of a smile on his face. He held a paper cup out to you, steaming with fresh brewed coffee. 

“Oh my God, thank you Eric.” you sighed, taking the cup of heaven from his grasp. “How did you know I needed this?”

“Well, considering you walked straight past me when I said hello this morning, I figured you could use a little caffeine,” he said with a chuckle, and you cringed. 

“I did not.” 

Another chuckle. 

“You did.”

“I am so sorry. I swear I didn’t even see you.”

“I figured as much.” He shrugged, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. “You seemed a little bit off in your own world anyway, no harm done.”

And when he sent you that little smile, the one that he tried to hide from everyone else, and you felt your heart jump. 

“Anyway, I actually came ’cause I wanted to tell you something.” You sat up, turning your full attention to the man. “You know how we’ve been working tirelessly at this CAELUS program for the past three years?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it finally paid off. We found one of Sadaam’s weapons silos.” You almost shot out of your seat. 

“Shit, really?!”

“Yes!” Eric was practically jumping in his seat. “They’re going to send me out to lead a team. We’re gonna find it!”

This time you did shoot out of your seat, pulling Eric up to his feet and tackling him in a hug. He stumbled back from the force, catching your waist. He chuckled again, and you couldn’t help but breathe in his warm scent as you hugged him tight. 

“C’mon, let me show you the satellite image,” he stated, pulling you over to the computer. He brought up an image, pointing to a large round shape underground. 

“Holy shit! Look at that!“ You cried, jumping up and down as he simply grinned at the screen. “This is gonna change the face of the war, Eric!” You fell back into your chair, astonished. Eric looked back at you, mirroring your grin.

“I know! This is an incredible find. Just think of what it could do for our careers!”

And as Eric proceeded to explain just what it could do for your careers, you leaned back, taking in his expressive moments, and the little excited twitched of his hands. It was adorable seeing him so eager about this, unable to keep countless words from spilling. You remained silent, your arms crossed with what you knew was a stupid little smile gracing your features. 

Eric snapped out of his daze after a moment, his eyes catching yours and a blush rising to his cheeks. You couldn’t help but giggle as his hands dropped.

“Sorry, I kinda went off on a tangent there.” He gave you a bashful smile, and you laughed out loud.

“That’s alright, I don’t mind.” You smiled back at the man, an idea popping in your head. “When are you getting sent out?”

“Two weeks.”

“Well, why don’t we celebrate before you go! It’s not every day your technology revolutionizes the war y’know,” you said with a grin. Eric chuckled at your teasing, contemplating for a moment.

“Deal.”

—

“This is why I should never trust a recommendation from Harry,” you spluttered, dropping your glass on the table. Eric grimaced on the couch beside you, clearly expressing his distaste for the wine in a more graceful fashion. “Fuck it, I’m getting a new bottle, you want?”

He cleared his throat. “Please.”

As you made your way to the closet affectionately dubbed the “Alcohol Cupboard,” you heaved a nervous sigh. You weren’t sure just what devil on your shoulder had convinced you to invite Eric back to your place after dinner, but here you were; offering the man a drink on the night before he travelled to Iraq, back to his estranged wife.

“Don’t fuck up the marriage,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for a significantly nicer bottle of wine. You closed the closet door, plastering a nonchalant smile on your face and crushing your feelings for the man deep down.

“Bingo!” you called, catching Eric’s attention. “I can promise, this one is much, much better.” You filled his glass, and then your own, sitting back on the couch.

“Hmm, it better be. Otherwise I’ll have to go around telling everyone Harry’s got better taste than you,” he teased, and you stuck out your tongue.

“Oh shut up. How is it?” You watched him take a wary sip.

“Regrettably, it is much better,” he admitted. “You get to live with good taste for another day.”

“Oh hardy har,” you mocked, shifting to a more comfortable position. “So, how do you feel about taking off tomorrow? You nervous?” Eric leaned back, contemplating for a moment.

“No, not really. I’m excited. We’re going to go out there, and we’re gonna take down that weapons silo. Who wouldn’t be excited about that?”

He was fibbing, you could tell by the twitch in his fingers, and the way his eyes narrowed just the slightest bit. He was nervous, putting up a brave front to convince himself that he wasn’t. You could see all of it behind the twitchy movements, but you chose to play along.

“I wish you were coming too,” he stated, seemingly out of nowhere, and you felt your stomach flip, heat rushing to your cheeks.

That’s not what he meant by it. Right?

“And why’s that?” You made every effort to mask the tremble in your voice, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “You’re the chief engineer of the program. I’m just like a glorified assistant.”

“Don’t say that, you worked just as hard on this as I did. It’s only fair, with how many late nights you spent…” he trailed off, turning to glance back up to you, a light blush dusting his features. “Besides, we make a great team.”

Now your stomach was really doing flips, and you cleared your throat again, placing your wine glass on the coffee table. 

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Eric’s hands found your shoulders, his gaze boring straight through to your soul. “The two of us? We could take it all down.”

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the fact that you’d been hiding it for three years. Maybe it was the fact that he was mere inches from your face, his breath fanning across your cheeks. Whatever it was, it prompted you to spit out the first thing coming to your mind. 

“I think your rambling is cute.”

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the fact that you were sitting inches away from him, in his favourite shirt of yours with your beautiful eyes glimmering up at him. Whatever it was, it prompted him to spit out the first words coming to his mind.

“I think you’re cute.”

And before you could fully process his words, his lips were on yours, his arms finding your waist and pulling you impossibly close. Everything around you just faded away, until it was just him and his lips moving against yours, and his hands trailing up your sides, gently guiding you onto your back, as his body hovered over yours.

You broke away for a quick breath, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Eric chuckled, his voice suddenly low and husky, as he leaned down to capture your lips again. He slowly lowered his weight onto you, until your chests touched. 

You let out a sudden hum when something poked at your chest, breaking away from his kiss. Eric leaned back, his brows furrowed in confusion as your hand rested on his chest, feeling something hard under his shirt.

You reached under the fabric, revealing a golden chain, decorated with a wedding band.

“Shit, your wife!” You surged forward, pushing on his shoulders. Eric sat up, grimacing as the ring fell back against his chest. You stood from the couch, your hands tangling into your hair as you paced around the living room. “You’re married!”

“Separated-” he cut in, a look of grief overtaking his features. He scrambled up from the couch, stepping towards you and reaching out. You held a hand out, scrunching your eyes shut as you fought against the desire to fall back into his arms, back into his kiss.

“That’s still married, Eric!” you cried, your voice breaking at the word. “As much as I want this, I can’t- I can’t be the other girl. I can’t be the reason for a failed marriage!”

Eric could only look at you, speechless for once in his life. He watched as you finally came to a stop, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Shaking his head, he surged forward, taking your hands in his.

“Listen, Rachel and I haven’t been happy for years. Not since the accident. I just couldn’t move on and adjusting to the whole prosthesis took a toll on our relationship, and she wasn’t avail-”

“Eric,” you interrupted, and the man froze, his gaze meeting yours again. Your heart was racing, and it felt like all your senses were screaming. “Stop. You’re rambling.”

You watched hurt flash through his eyes, and his jaw tightened. He dropped his head, letting go of your hands and stepping back a pace or two. Your heart clenched, pain blooming through your chest as you took in his shrinking form. 

“I just can’t be the other girl,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Eric didn’t respond, and you glared holes into the floor, tears beginning to blur your vision. You heard footsteps walk past, followed by the harsh sound of your door closing. 

Only when you were sure he was gone, did you fall to your knees, finally allowing the tears to spring free.

—

It had been weeks since you heard from him. Weeks since he’d taken off, leaving you behind with an aching heart and a half-empty bottle of wine that you couldn’t even look at.

You had broken down that night, a heavy pit of loss coursing through you, as you realized you had just turned away the man you’d pined after for three years. On top of that, you’d likely ruined your entire work relationship, and your friendship too. Hell, you’d be lucky if he ever gave you the time of day again.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when the memory of his pained expression flashed through your mind, that you found yourself breaking again. Of course he was insecure about his rambling; everyone at work was constantly complaining about it, and you assumed by his expression that it wasn’t welcomed at his home either.

And then you - the only person who had told him they didn’t mind, even liked listening to him ramble - had gone and turned it on him in one of his most vulnerable moments. You hadn’t been able to rid yourself of the guilt weighing on your shoulders, clouding your mind at every moment.

And then you’d heard from your boss about the incident. How CAELUS hadn’t actually detected a weapons silo, just a bunch of caves containing “a hallucinogenic gas.” You didn’t believe it for a second, but that didn’t matter.

“Is Eric okay?” you’d asked. “Did he make it out?”

Your boss had hesitated, rubbing his temples before finally answering you.

“Yes.”

And so now here you were, three weeks after that conversation, pacing in your apartment once more. Your mind was spinning with so many thoughts, so many emotions, that you’d barely been able to sleep. All you wanted was to see him one last time, just to apologize. 

A sudden knock at your door snapped you out of your daze. You scrambled over to the door, wondering just who could be on the other side. You pushed down the small glimmer of hope that it could be Eric, shaking your head and turning the handle.

“Hi, I have a pizza for (Name) (Last Name)?”

You blinked at the delivery boy, as he stood there, rather awkwardly, holding a single pizza box. With a jolt, you remembered the call you’d placed a half hour before, and you sighed. You were really out of it.

“Yes, thanks. How much?”

You handed the boy his cash, as well as a decent tip. As you went to close the door, a flash of movement caught your eye. You hesitated, your eyes widening as a head of blond hair filled your vision.

Eric brushed past the pizza guy, his gaze catching yours just as he reached the porch. You stood dumbfounded, as he reached you at the door, his mouth opening and closing as he thought of what to say.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you answered, blinking up at him. In the weeks since you’d seen him, his hair had grown just a touch longer, his face decorated with a few fading cuts and bruises. “What- are you okay?” You resisted the urge to brush your fingers along a particularly large cut along his jaw, instead choosing to tighten your grip on the pizza box.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.” He gave you a small, tired smile. It was surreal, having him there, standing in front of you yet again. You couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Would you like a piece of pizza?”

—

And so, as the two of you ate your pizza, Eric told you everything. He told you about the raid, about the ground opening up and throwing him straight into a den of monsters. He told you about their ship, how the monsters had taken Joey, Merwin… even Clarice. He told you about the eclipse, and the six minutes of hell he endured, just to get back home.

“I knew they were lying,” you muttered to yourself, before turning to Eric. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. I think that was the closest I’ve ever been to Hell,” he muttered, falling back into silence, where the two of you remained for a long moment.

“Did Rachel make it out?” you asked, and Eric sucked in a breath.

“Yeah.” He was strangely quiet at that.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll never believe it,” he started, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “She was seeing someone else.”

You ignored the flicker of hope in your chest.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you muttered, glancing up to meet his gaze.

“Don’t be. As a matter of fact, I’m happy for her.” He shot you a small grin. “When I saw her at the base, I don’t know. I just didn’t feel anything anymore. All I wanted was to get back home… to you.”

Your head snapped to meet his gaze, where he was already looking back down at you, a soft expression on his face.

“You know, you were never the ‘other girl,’” he started, taking in a deep breath. “You’re the girl, always. You’ve been here for me this whole time, through the late nights, and the early mornings. You dealt with me being grumpy about my leg, and you-” His gaze found yours again. “Your eyes are really pretty and-”

You cut Eric off, grabbing his face and pulling your lips to his. He let out a surprised hum, before his shoulders fell and his arms wrapped around your waist again, pulling you in close. It was pure bliss, pouring all your emotions into the kiss, without the worry of being the other girl. You were the girl. After a long moment, he pulled back with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Sorry, I was rambling again,” he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly. You sucked in a breath, shooting him a soft grin.

“Don’t be sorry. I love it when you ramble.” Eric’s lips turned into a smile, and you watched his eyes light up, before he was pulling you back into another kiss. 

As his grip around you tightened, pulling you close until you were flush against him, you couldn’t help but smile, breaking away from his lips and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Thank you for bearing with me this long,” he chuckled into your ear.

“Please. Bearing with you is the best part of my day. Now kiss me again.”

And he did. He kissed you again, and again, his arms tight around you, holding you close in a silent promise to never let you go again.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Grace, Too - Director Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

🎉🎉 !!Fic Number 200!! 🎉🎉

Hollllly crap we made it. We MADE it. And as he was fic number 100, 200 had to be Krennic. HAD to be.

@wltz-bby​ @mandy23b​ @happyskywhale​ @missunsympathetic​

Author’s Note:  Good god. Oh... This SONG has a lot to answer for. 

So, I was introduced to these ‘Courtly Love’ ideas, and I thought they sounded like a lot of fun, so I have a few requests based around these based on conversations. This was the first one I attempted and uh, yeah we ended up with this glorious wordcount.

Also, for my dear requestor and also dear friend @sagitariusrising​ Happy (Belated) Birthday! 😘💜💙 I hope this fic is everything you wanted!

Grace, Too - The Tragically Hip

Disclaimer: Premise/Idea not mine - although I did make some executive decision changes that I hope you still like / Rogue One characters not mine / some small Catalyst references.

Prompt: “A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved”

Premise: Orson Krennic has himself an obsession. You remind him too much of someone he once knew. Orson Krennic is dangerous. This much you know, but you are not about to heed your own warnings....

Words: 17,100

Warnings: Swearing / Possessiveness/Obsession/Yearning / Smut - like Sinday/Sunday smut. 

_____

He said, I'm fabulously rich C'mon, just let's go She kinda bit her lip Geez, I don't know I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with will and determination And grace, too The secret rules of engagement Are hard to endorse When the appearance of conflict Meets the appearance of force But I can guarantee  There'll be no knock on the door I'm total pro here That's what I'm here for I come from downtown Born ready for you Armed with skill and its frustration And grace, too

---

He had to admit Eadu was not his favourite planet in the galaxy. Susceptible to many a storm, Krennic had never known it not to be pouring whenever he arrived. He probably wouldn’t even have thought about travelling over at all, were his old friend Galen Erso not stationed there. True, it was an integral facility to the Death Star, but Krennic didn’t need to be here to survey operations, just receive the odd mail or two with updates. Krennic would much rather be at the heart of the weapon his was engineering; it was his project and his baby. But, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see Galen, and this was fairly important. He grimaced as he looked out at the rain again, hopefully this wouldn’t take too long either… *** You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the constant rainy patterns of weather here. No-one had ever really given you the uniform for it – having said that, how often did you really spend outside these days? A lot of your time was spent in labs pouring over facts and figures and complicated algorithms. You spent almost as much time in the labs as Galen did, which was certainly personal choice rather than because you were forced into long hours. You had two specialities: lasers and gem stones; you’d heard about the development of synthetic Kyber crystals and Galen’s work before, but you’d never beheld a real one until coming here. With the amount of effort you were putting in, you were starting to become a technical expert. (Also a little disappointed to say the least when you found out that synthetic Kyber hadn’t really worked as expected.) Still, when you and Galen weren’t working on your pet energy project – allegedly what this had been for in the first place, until the real reason for Kyber research came to the fore – you were working on the Death Star. Which was some glorified super laser, that needed Kyber to work and… well, precision focus, as any good laser should have. Kyber wasn’t only going to be used as a power source, but also to make sure that this laser had range and trajectory… and didn’t waver off that. Besides, looking at the design, although it would collectively become one laser, it started at multiple points across the span of the dish. If just one of those was wrong, would the laser even fire at all? So standing outside on the landing platform, having been summoned out here because apparently the Director of the whole project would be arriving, in the cold and wet was not your ideal start to the day. Especially as you’d been standing here for what felt like close to an hour. Where the heck was this guy? You’d heard a lot about Orson Krennic before now; not all of it was great, some of it was hearsay, but there was a lot of information you found interesting to say the least. He’d been working on this project (with or without Galen) for most of his adult life, so it didn’t surprise you that he’d be coming all the way out here for an update. You had only ever had the pleasure of being copied on emails to Krennic and the way he responded sometimes was downright scary. You were glad you’d never had to give him bad news… but with your project being what it was, it wouldn’t be long before you did have to face the wrath of his block capitals. Finally the sound of a cruiser cut through the air, by the distinctive sound it was a Delta-class T-3c. Yeah, you had a slight passion for ships too. You all stood to attention on the platform, fighting off the shivers from the wind chill, squinting for visibility through the sheet rain and trying not to get blown over either. When the door to the shuttle opened Galen stepped forward, to welcome your visitor. He was possibly around Galen’s age, and held a confidence and self-importance about him as he strode forward down the ramp. But he had grace, too. You were almost taken aback by the way Krennic smiled as he shook Galen’s hand firmly, conversation fairly urgent. You couldn’t even lip read them from here, but body language was easy to interpret and it didn’t take long for Krennic to have your boss on the back foot. But it wasn’t panic, only surprise. Galen beckoned the Director towards the facility but Krennic shook his head. This visit was clearly only to be brief; you weren’t about to have your first interaction with him after all; he wasn’t about to view your work, inspect it closely and criticize it. Maybe you were glad of that. The conversation wasn’t as fleeting as you thought, a lot of back and forth that had the rest of you shooting each other looks and wondering how much longer you had to stand to attention in the freezing weather. Eventually Galen gestured to all of you – you supposed he was saying ‘if you can’t come in, or stay very long, at least meet my team.’ Krennic seemed to consider this for a time, his eyes sweeping the line and freezing on you. Your breath caught for a moment – maybe it was just your imagination, but his gaze was certainly lingering on you, and those bright blue eyes of his were nothing short of captivating. You didn’t think you’d seen a blue like it anywhere in the galaxy. It felt like hours but it could only have been seconds before he turned back to Galen, they exchanged a few words briefly once more before Galen nodded and they shook hands again. Oh, he really was just going to leave? The Director walked brisky back towards his shuttle before turning and calling back something else that he’d clearly forgotten. Galen yelled something in response and Krennic half smiled, before his eyes flicked over Galen’s shoulder and returned to you. Yes. You were right, he was certainly focused on you. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and the lightning cracked across the sky. You had never minded the lightning; you found the colours and patterns fascinating. But those blue eyes were immediately illumined by the bright white flashes and you found yourself swallowing hard, you couldn’t place the look on his face but you weren’t sure it was so appropriate. That image was sure to haunt you. Krennic turned back, slower this time, and you found that you’d been holding your breath for quite some time.

Suddenly you didn’t think that you would mind receiving an email in block capitals from him at all. *** Galen was probably the least subtle he could possibly be when he was trying to be subtle. He’d been tiptoeing around something with you for a couple of days and it really was starting to annoy you. You slammed your stylus down on the table with a frustrated sigh and turned to him. “Galen, please, whatever it is… just tell me. You’re making me nervous!” He blinked a few times, taken aback by your tone – as if he hadn’t been making it very obvious. “I- I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You laughed, “Now I certainly will! What’s going on?” “…It’s not my idea, but it is my decision.” “What is?” You suddenly became scared yourself, “Are you firing me-!?” Galen’s eyes widened and he held his hands up, “What? NO, no… quite the opposite. I am…” He paused and thought to rephrase his question, “They need a crystallographer on the Death Star. A good one. Someone who can keep up with the team here. One who knows what she’s talking about.” You blinked a few times, before you understood, “You’re… sending me to the Death Star?” “Yes. B- but only if you want to go!” Wouldn’t that place you directly under Krennic’s authority? Why was it suddenly an exciting prospect? “I would be honoured. This is- your decision?” “They asked me for recommendations and there was only ever one choice.” That had you beaming, “Thank you for the opportunity, Galen.” “Well, I know you won’t let the facility down. And you’re always welcome back.” You chewed your lip thoughtfully for a second, and couldn’t help but ask: “What is he really like?” “Who?” “The Director.” Galen didn’t really answer the question, although a smile twitched on his face, “We met in the Futures Program. I’ve known him a very long time… I can’t say he’s ever changed.” “So he’s an adult teenage boy?” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Galen laughed. “Well, he has qualities that you’d be forgiven for thinking he was one.” “Huh.” You nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “But he is brilliant, of that there is no doubt. The Death Star project may have been going a long time, but I doubt anyone else could have completed it the way he has. Sharp. Intelligent. You’ll like him, I think.” You wondered if you already did. “Well, we’ll see if I’m begging to come back any time soon-!” He chuckled gently, “Well, I certainly hope not.” It didn’t take you very long to pack up, you were practically living out of boxes as it was. And you weren’t sure if you were nervous about having to move or not. You supposed you were in two minds; you’d actually get to see and be on the Death Star while you worked – sure the plans were one thing but, once you got a feel for the actual structure, maybe you could even be a little more experimental… The advantage of being on Eadu was you could hide away in a lab and make the 10,000 mistakes to get to the one (usually accidental) breakthrough. You were the only one judging yourself here, it was quiet; out there, and under Krennic, all eyes would be on what you were doing. You’d maybe be given the leeway of 2 or 3 mistakes but none more than that. And everything would be urgent. Needed yesterday! It was a good thing that you could work under pressure. Leaving was hard, and as you hugged Galen goodbye you couldn’t help but feel a pain in your heart: “I wish it didn’t mean leaving.” “You deserve it.” “Maybe. I hope I get to come back, eventually.” “We’ll certainly welcome you with open arms!” “Take care of yourself, Galen.” “And you – if he gives you any trouble, come straight to me.” You nearly grimaced, “Noted, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that!” *** The cruiser that picked you up wasn’t his, and you were glad the journey wasn’t as long as you expected, so you didn’t have too much time to overthink what was happening to you. In fact as the Death Star loomed into view your mouth was agape – you weren’t sure you expected the sheer size of it: easy to look at some numbers on a datapad but, when it was in front of you, you thought you might have bitten off a little more than you could chew. You were equally pleased and disappointed that Krennic was neither there to pick you up or greet you on the station – mostly because you didn’t seem to be able to find any appropriate words to say. The bustle of engineers, technicians and general command staff told you you were a million miles from your lab on Eadu, and you found yourself unable to communicate in anything other than one word awe filled sentences. Thankfully the Officer who greeted you seemed to understand, and as she walked you to your lab (everyone was obviously eager for you to start!) she chuckled warmly, “Don’t worry, I was exactly the same when I arrived here. It’s a lot. You’ll get used to it – and from what I understand you’ll be a very welcome addition to our team.” “Thanks,” You swallowed hard, “yes, I understand there’s an expectation on me here.” “Well, the Director only wants the best of the best.” She keyed you into the lab and then handed you your pass, “If you’re here it’s because you are the best. And he wants you.” You tried hard not to think about that in any way other than for your work, but it was hard. Ever since that look he’d given you as he left, those vivid blue eyes filled your dreams – including those that you’d rather Krennic kept out of. As she continued talking, she snapped you back to reality: “Anyway, I will leave you to get settled in here, all your things will be sent to your quarters. I’ll have someone sent up with all the details and your datapad.” She grinned at the door before she turned to head out, “Welcome to the Death Star!” *** You spent your time unpacking all your laboratory kit - some of this work you’d only trust to go right with your own gear that much was certain - before you started examining the lab closely. Everything was, as expected, state of the art, they had every machine it was possible to get in order to aid you on your quest to get these vectors just right. If the work wasn’t quite so serious this was almost a wonderland for you. As you continued to stare around the lab, making mental notes of exactly which you would need and would be the most useful for your work, the lab doors slid open again to another visitor. You turned to explain yourself away as the new girl but immediately froze. Standing opposite you, also seemingly glued to the spot and an unreadable look on his face, was none other than Director Krennic. You weren’t sure you expected to see him so soon, and you were still thoroughly unprepared for it. He recovered better than you. “I was told my new hire had arrived. You-” He paused for a minute, head tipped, before a small smile appeared on his face, “You’re from the Eadu facility!” After all, Krennic hadn’t asked only Galen for help in recruiting – you just had the best credentials. But he certainly recognised you from that platform. “Yes, Sir, Galen sent me – he said you were looking for a good crystallographer.” “Yes. And you’re here, welcome. It’s good to finally meet you in person.” “The honour is mine, Director, I look forward to working with you.” You swallowed hard, “Believe me, it is me that is honoured… uhm?” “Oh, Y/N, Sir.” Then you blushed forgetting yourself, “Ah! Officer L/N!” That smile became a gentle smirk, “Would it be so awful for me to refer to you by your first name?” “…I’m sorry, I… It’s how we do things on Eadu, I… realise that I am not there anymore Sir, forgive me.” You could feel yourself getting hotter. “You need not be forgiven, Y/N. I’m happy to do things your way.” Krennic placed a datapad on the table in front of him, “It’s all set up correctly, I made sure of that myself. I have to make sure my researcher is well equipped on the first day of her job, after all.” On top of it he lay another access card, “You’ll need that for your room, your ID will allow you access to almost as many files as me, I figured you’ll need them.” Krennic’s blue eyes fell back on you, “Anything you can’t access you come directly to me, and anything else you need, the same. I will make sure it reaches you promptly.” “Yes, Sir.” You nodded through his explanation, “Thank you.” Krennic nodded back, looking around the room, “Tell me, how do you like the lab?” “It’s certainly state of the art. There’s probably not another one like it across the galaxy. There’s a lot I would like to explore with these devices once I’m finished with my work for the Battle Station. Time permitting.” Krennic shrugged, “Do what you will with the time that you have free. I expect you’ll work hard.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good.” He winked stepping back from you, “I will leave you to get settled, and may I welcome you to the Death Star! I’m very excited to see what you can do for us!” And by that smirk on his face, yes, you could bet… Krennic hurried back to his office cursing himself. Yes, he wanted the best – and he had absolutely no doubt that he would get it with you. He’d read every CV in great detail; obviously he’d paid more attention to those from Galen, considering the weaponry was coming from that lab, but Galen had neglected to mention that you were with him on Eadu in his note for you. You were Galen’s first choice, and Orson Krennic was not about to go against his friend’s advice. It was just your look. Not just physically, but that look on your face – he couldn’t shake it.  Now he could bet that your personality would be similar just to curse him… He didn’t fall in love often, not hard. Orson could fall in and out of ‘love’ with people very quickly – always liked to keep a string of bed mates, if he didn’t fall in love, and didn’t necessarily care, then he wouldn’t get hurt. And he hardly needed to put in much effort, a little bit of flirting and an expensive drink was all he usually needed. Besides, now Krennic had this rank bar and a reputation, so he probably needed even less: sometimes people were trying to pick him up – he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. On the occasions he did though – it usually had the proficiency to mess him up. You reminded him very much of a girl he’d known in the Futures Program – back when he was young and reckless. Okay, Krennic could back track on that sentence, young. That, first love, fast heartbeat, can’t stop staring, ‘only thing in the world that matters’ kind of feeling. The kind of love that at that age would make him naïvely think it’d be forever – where their ambitions would meld together and everything would just work out. Even if they had no idea how. Krennic would stand by it as a real love, a feeling he had chased since he lost her. He’d fallen that hard again since – sure – but never in the same way. Orson didn’t think you could ever get a ‘first love’ feeling back. And he certainly didn’t want to ever feel like he did when it ended again. But you, and your face, and your body, and that look you gave him – all Krennic could see in you was her. Turning to his datapad for a second he had half a mind to see who your parents were, then stopped short of himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, Orson, she’s too old for that!’ – even if marginally. It made him curious about you though, what if your personality was the same? What if all of these factors culminated in him… feeling like that about you. He almost cursed at himself. ‘Don’t be stupid, she works for you, and you’ll shake it. It’s just the shock, it’s two or three glimpses of her face – you’ll be able to pick out all the differences in no time. Then you won’t think about what you loved and lost… or yearn for it back.’ Krennic scoffed at the very idea of him yearning, but brought you up on his datapad anyway. A smirk started to spread its way across his face as he lingered on your photograph. Well, he certainly wasn’t averse to one of you getting messed up in the process of this partnership…

***

 Krennic was right, one of you was going to get messed up by this; and it seemed more obvious now that person was going to be him. He wanted your personality to be different to hers, then he could form some distinction - and for the most part you had differences, you were your own woman. The problem was Krennic let himself get obsessed over the similarities, those small details that wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else. And if he was honest those parts of you that were nothing like her just messed him up even more, because he liked those too. He liked you for you. It worried him.

You busied yourself with your work and tried to keep out of everyone’s way. You very much hoped it might be ‘out of sight out of mind’; but knew with the importance of the project you wouldn’t have that luxury. That had you experimenting until the early hours of the morning sometimes - and you always sent Krennic an update email last thing before you went to bed. Just so he never had to come looking himself: you’d heard all about him, but now you were here you’d witnessed it yourself. And Krennic screaming at people in corridors was not something you were that ready for. You did not want that wrath coming down on you, so you tried to keep one step ahead of the man that knew this station inside and out. What amazed you was, as you placed your datapad down for the evening and settled into your sheets, more often than not you’d receive a ‘ping’ to let you know of incoming mail. You’d ignored it for a while but - being too curious - investigated, only to find Krennic had sent you a thank you note. ‘What the heck is he still up working for!?’ Well, this became a regular occurrence, and tonight was no different - only now you waited to see if he’d reply and you smiled as it came in. ‘Why can’t everyone do this?  Do you know how well this Station would run!? Thank you. As ever. - K.’ You hovered over the reply button, as you had nearly all week. Every single time the knot in your stomach made you panic and you bailed out. Not tonight. ‘You are welcome, Director. Just doing my job. It’s getting late, you should probably get some rest.’ As he had, you signed off with your initial. It took him all of 5 seconds to reply, ‘I could say the same.  Goodnight, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Goodnight, Director. Sleep well.’ You grimaced as the message flew off to the other side of the Death Star, was that a step too far? Oh well. Couldn’t take it back now!

Eventually your reports got shorter, not for lack of trying, but progress was slow. And you always tried to make ‘nothing really happened today’ last for as many pages as possible. But you realised quickly that Director Krennic was smart enough to read between the lines; he never asked for more than you gave him, but as he started asking you for progress updates, rather than waiting until you sent them, you knew he wasn’t far off the point where you might start receiving those dreaded block capital emails.

It wasn’t like what you’d done up until now wasn’t hard; it was. It was just now you were at a snagging point and you really didn’t want to have to redo what you’d already done to get past it. It also wasn’t something you could easily bypass. And you couldn’t ignore it. If you got this wrong that laser didn’t work - and it’d all come back on you. This calculation was going to take time you didn’t have - NOBODY had - and the pressure was starting to get you frustrated.

You didn’t actually receive a block capital email, but an impromptu visit to your lab. And the colour must have immediately drained from your face - to counteract the way your heart decided to beat like a kick drum - because Krennic raised his hands in almost apology. “Thought it might be quicker to ask you rather than you to write up a report.” “Well you already know it’s not going well.” “I know woolly language when I see it. You don’t need to use filler with me. If you’re stuck just say so.” “Forgive me, Sir, but I don’t exactly want to get yelled at, and there’s a lot at stake here.” You cursed yourself internally for being so comfortable with talking to him like this. But decided that it might be best to speak your mind. “Why would I yell at you?” You gave him a pointed look that Krennic understood, but he didn’t think you quite understood the question. Why would he yell at you? Instead he cleared his throat, “I understand… Why don’t you, walk me through it?” “Can you help?” It wasn’t meant to come out so disbelieving, and you thought you’d put your foot in it about 10 times during this conversation already - but Krennic just shrugged. “I’ll see if I can assist. Maybe I’ll have a perspective you’re not thinking of.” You took a breath, “Okay...” “Okay.” He gave a firm nod, and sat at one of the lab tables, “What exactly are you trying to achieve that you cannot?” You took a deep breath, “Think of holding a laser pointer,” you collected one, and as a demonstration you pointed it at the blank wall and clicked it on; “Even with a steady hand, or two hands, there’s movement.” The dot wasn’t wiggling much but Krennic nodded along, “Well, this station is just a massive destructive laser pointer, with 8 different lasers all coming together… so in fact there’s 9 laser pointers in total. Even a millimetre out can be the difference between this laser working, or catching on something we don’t want it to and blowing up Imperial Forces, or - god forbid - the entire station…!” You walked over to a little holder you’d rigged up, placing the pen upon it and stepping back: “Crudely speaking when focusing a laser through Kyber it should keep the laser's trajectory steady with pinpoint accuracy, whilst also maintaining the power and range of the laser. It’s a multipoint system, if even one of those points is off, the whole thing fails. And what better to take the power of a laser created by Kyber than…” “Kyber.” You smiled enthusiastically, “Exactly!” Krennic looked back at the dot on the wall, “So what’s your snag?” You turned the datapad to face him, “This.” He raised an eyebrow immediately, “That’s… a lot of numbers.” “Yes. And every time I calculate it, it’s an error. And it needs to balance because it’s got to work between-” “Nine lasers.” You said in unison. “Correct.” You smiled, liking that he was getting it. “I don’t expect Kyber not to be able to take the force, it’s the making sure we’re hitting it all just right. To check how much the crystals might refract the energy. To make sure there’s not a power surge… I just can’t get the power balance right to get the trajectory… not to do something ridiculously wild.” “Or make the whole station virtually useless.” “Yes. And the thing is that the number is nearly always the same. You know, like… I’m point-5 out, and yet I can’t figure out where that is coming from. Freakin’ crystals, and Kyber is notoriously the worst!” You placed your hands on your hips, “I’ll get it. I just need time.” He nodded, “You have time believe me.” Krennic stood, “I believe I should leave you to it.” “But the completion of the-” “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting my vectors right. You have time.” That he could promise you. Krennic didn’t want you to panic, he thought that would throw this project into even more disarray. He needed you with a level head and at your best mindset. He thought he knew how to do just that. You flushed, “Thank you, Director.” “Don’t mention it, Y/N.” He paused as he got to the door, turning back to you those blue eyes caught yours and you nearly jumped at the dark flicker across them. “I look forward to reading your report, tonight.” The way his voice lowered like that, how that smooth tone he usually kept laced with a growl had you struggling to breathe as he left, and you had to undo your uniform and catch your breath. ‘Geez, what was that!?’ Did you have a thing for your senior commander? A real thing!? Sure those damn eyes were always haunting your dreams, and he was nearly always your daily closing thought (but he put himself there, didn’t he!) but… this was more than that, this was a physical reaction - and you were sure he was eliciting an emotional one from you, too. “God dammit, Y/N,” you breathed, looking back to the door and wishing he’d come walking back through it, “could you have a worse idea-!?” *** He had to be honest he wasn’t sure why he had no semblance of control around you; it should have been easy to control. Krennic spent his life trying to control his emotions… okay, maybe not very well but he did. You had him smiling all over the place. He far outstayed his welcome in the lab whenever he found reason to go down there; and Krennic certainly found plenty of reason. Usually if he visited anyone at their work station he was either none too pleased with them, or he wanted their report - and quickly! - before he swept himself off to another meeting or urgent matter around the station. He liked the sound of your voice explaining things to him; and how every question he asked was met with not just an answer, but a good answer. Instead of a string of ‘I don’t know, sir��s. Nothing Krennic asked of you ever seemed like trouble either; then again he supposed you wouldn’t really want to refuse the Director of the Death Star what he wanted. It was obvious you wanted to remain here, and you were trying to do your very best to figure out all these algorithms alone.

Krennic sent you an assistant and even got you on calls with people in similar fields. The assistant stayed with you a little, until it got a little too complicated even for them and you dismissed them with thanks - you’d got a step closer, that’s all you could ask for. Eventually though, you had to reach out to Galen - and Krennic wanted to sit in on these calls. You wondered if it was because he thought the two of you would spend the majority of it dragging him - you rather thought you might be giving him a string of compliments with half the chance to do so. And the three of you started to break your work down to basics. Krennic’s new perspective aided more than you really wanted to admit to him, but he had this attitude that made you think he wanted to be useful here - and it made you more than a little suspicious. Maybe he really was spying on you both…

Krennic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t forcing the relationship to grow beyond appropriate parameters, all discussions did still revolve around work after all, but was happy that you were forthcoming. Spending more time with you meant he could analyse you more - and whilst you still very much reminded him of his ex-lover, you were becoming your own person. The person who filled his thoughts. You were almost his every waking moment. When in your lab together, even when Krennic was listening to every word, he was watching your body - the way you moved was fluid as you eagerly explained something and demonstrated. But meticulous and calculating when you were working on a screen - absolutely none of your energy was wasted that could have been used to think on the problem. And yet even every small movement you made was significant. Usually to cross through or correct a calculation. Change your vector arrows around a little. Krennic liked watching you do this too, because when it was all correct you gave this small satisfied smile, and even though it was to yourself, it was very endearing - it was one thing he always looked forward to seeing.

Tonight, as ever, Krennic was agonising over waiting for your report. No matter how exhausted he might be when he finally retired to his quarters for the evening, he always knew your end of day email would come through and Krennic forced himself to stay awake for it. Mostly so he could read too much into the string of ‘flirty’ emails that followed it, but he couldn’t have been the only one who read that energy. After all, sometimes he gratuitously flirted back, and you still kept responding. As soon as he heard that ping he rushed across the room to read it. You reporting was always concise even though you managed not to leave a single detail out - and now he knew more about your work, it was easier to understand and for him to scan through. Krennic would be more thorough tomorrow. ‘Thorough as ever, Ms. L/N. – K.’ ‘I like to make sure you don’t need to ask questions.’ ‘Where’s the fun in that? – K.’ ‘It helps me sleep better.’ ‘Me not ask questions about your reporting? – K.’ ‘Goodnight Director. Please get some sleep!’ He remembered the first time that he’d read that goodnight from you, how he’d stared at those words for a long time - heart stilled. It didn’t help him sleep at all, far from it. In fact nothing about you seemed to help anything - except Krennic thinking on you.

You were impressive - dare he say that you had more skill in your particular area than maybe even Galen did. That, added to the weight of his constant Futures Program reminder, kept you at the forefront of his mind constantly. Krennic found it very hard to concentrate on his own work; and his thoughts wandered, particularly in meetings he found to be less than stimulating. He’d poured over your CV and your previous published research time and again. Read all your imperial records and anything Intelligence could get hold of on you. Krennic knew almost everything there was to know, and yet he wanted to hear it all from you. And you seemed less than forthcoming with information that was personal. That almost worried him - maybe you weren’t looking for anything other than a professional relationship with him. Krennic wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep it that way; eventually he’d have to make some kind of move - he couldn’t let you go without you knowing. He wasn’t about to let you be the (other) one that got away. Not both of you. Time ticked on this evening, and he lay in his sheets wide awake. Work was making him drowsy; and he’d been up and down trying to work himself to sleep, but every time he put his datapad down and switched off the lights he was alert again. Krennic glanced at the clock and groaned, watching the minutes race towards his alarm. Unsurprisingly it was thoughts of you that were keeping him awake. Usually you were on his mind at night; you were certainly the last one before he turned the light off, but usually he could drift to sleep perfectly fine. Not tonight. Krennic placed his hands palm down on his stomach, inhaling and exhaling slowly: wasn’t that how you did it? Deep, slow, calming breaths. That evidently made things worse, and his breathing patterns this time brought with them fairly vivid images that occasionally he’d seen in dreams. Certainly none of them were very professional - and all of them were about you. ‘Stars-! Orson, stop it!’ But he couldn’t, and his mind wanted to play tricks on him, trying to make him imagine what it would feel like to touch your bare skin, to hear you moan quietly, the way you might say his name in elation. He growled to himself as heat gathered a little lower than his hands were. He moved them, breaths already short and sharp and not at all where he’d intended to be at… “This is a bad idea.” Orson groaned softly and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut bringing all those images back; did he really have any better ones? *** It wasn’t a lie to state you were getting closer. At least to the point where Krennic started to make jokes in meetings that were clearly meant for you only. And when you looked up to him unsure if it was appropriate to laugh and he’d almost dare you to, you knew they certainly were. He’d always ask for a score out of 10 in his emails to you now. And it was refreshing for you to find a similar relationship to the one you had with Galen here… well, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised. They were good friends after all, and there had to be a reason for that. Krennic also made a habit of being wherever you were. And you weren’t sure that was so endearing. You understood why he would want to be around your lab - maybe not as often as he was, but then… perhaps you knew the reason for that too, you just didn’t want to hope on it - but not why he’d turn up in corridors he had no business being in. Or would end up in the cafeteria at the exact moment you walked in. He even ended up in staff briefings he’d specifically asked someone else to take either so he could sit or stand near you. You couldn’t help but find some of this behaviour odd: was Krennic stalking you? Was he looking out for you? Was he protecting you? You couldn’t imagine it was just coincidence - and part of you hoped it wasn’t. You just couldn’t really tell his intentions. That’s what scared you the most.

By now you’d heard the coffee room chat about Krennic - seemed he had a bit of a lady’s man reputation. Pretty smooth at getting you into bed, but would love you and leave you just as fast, and on-to-the-next-one. Were you simply the next one? Because as much as by now you wanted to be, you certainly didn’t want to be one on a list… love you was okay… but leave you? You weren’t the type of woman who would put yourself in that position. For him would you?

It made you a little more cautious around him, and suddenly that made your relationship slip. Because you didn’t know if you should be flirting with him or joking with him as much as you were. This pull back from you didn’t faze Krennic too much, just made him try a little harder. For you it then became obvious what he wanted. And you had to do your damndest to control yourself. You both did.

You were using every ounce of your Imperial training to try to ignore your feelings, to make sure your face stayed level and revealed nothing. You always tried to keep your eyes on his face; instead of the wandering they wanted to do - even when he wasn’t directly talking to you. That didn’t mean that when he was walking away from you, or simply keeping busy in your lab, you weren’t discreetly checking him out. You had to wonder what he looked like out of that uniform, considering he looked so gorgeous in it. You were inexplicably drawn to him, but you weren’t sure if it was his power you were attracted to: the rank bar on that uniform told everyone exactly who was boss and he walked like he owned every corridor in this place. He didn’t even need to exert his influence in meetings, everyone knew he was the most important man in the room. When Krennic had something to say everyone listened, even when he said it quietly. You’d never known someone to command that kind of attention, and considering that reputation you were not the only officer - of any gender - who fawned over him. You were just the best at hiding it. That charisma he exuded really was something to behold; he was just far too confident. Maybe a little conceited in it too, but you were sure you’d be powerless to it. The Director probably had the ability to walk up to you and say “Come to bed with me” and you’d go on that alone, you knew if he was so inclined, he could just say it like that. It was probably in your favour that Krennic liked to be a little more suave. Krennic seemed like one for class and grace. Or was it that you really were attracted to him, that you had some kind of undeniable chemistry. That you would almost count him a friend. That you just liked being in Krennic’s aura and talking to him about work… you’d even started to open up to him about personal stuff, where you’d grown up, your family… how exactly you’d ended up a crystallographer who was working here on laser vectors. And most importantly how much you loved storms, planetary or solar - this seemed like something you had to let him know. Just a silly little fact, perhaps, but to you it really meant something. It was little moments like that, when he laughed at your stories, that you thought this really might be mutual attraction, rather than someone Krennic just wanted to get in bed.

Yet, you had an effect on him also and he tried to hide it as well as you did. You caught it, only because you knew the look of someone trying to contain themselves. You saw it in the mirror or polished surfaces of this battle station all the time. Krennic quite often clenched his jaw around you, he had this habit of staring at you like he was staring through you; and sometimes he would just stare forward if you were next to him. That almost annoyed you, because you wanted to be able to look into those crystal blue orbs just once... But if Krennic was watching you, then it was an altogether different story, and if he ever caught you catching him, that look in his eyes didn’t disappear; it was hungry, and although it stirred something within you that you had to fight even harder to control, it scared you a little too - and in the back of your mind it lit a spark that became a raging fire. And you had to know, would he act on that look too? You made a vow, before you’d finished your work, before you’d left this battle station - you would find out.

Today hadn’t been so bad by all accounts; the test you’d set up you would have to leave overnight, so you got out of the lab on time. Maybe you’d even get an early night tonight. Maybe you’d persuade the Director to one of his own with your report email; you thought he probably needed it. A frown pulled its way across your face as you arrived at your quarters with the door open, and you poked your head around it, gasping to find other officers moving things around, and carrying what appeared to be boxes of your stuff. You hadn’t authorised this! “What’s going on!?!” You blurted, a little angrier than you’d meant, “What are you doing!?” Then you froze for a second; had you read something wrong? You knew something was up with him… but maybe you were supposed to have acted on it by now? Maybe your work was taking too long - was he pissed at you? Did Krennic want you off the station!? You looked to the most senior officer, “Am I being thrown off the project?!” “No.” At least you could breathe then, “We’re simply moving your quarters.” “Moving my quarters?” You couldn’t help but be confused: had you missed that email? It seemed a little too important to just be sprung upon you. “On whose orders!? I haven’t signed off on this!” “Director Krennic’s.” That shut you up almost immediately. ‘Oh well shit, what’s he moving me for!?’ You swallowed hard, not even caring if it was visible. “Well, in that case you better show me where I’m moving to…”

Once you got there - and they assured you that your key card would still work - you realised that you hadn’t just moved to any old room. Krennic had moved you to a commander's quarters, and it was plush to say the least. You had so much more room in here. The bay window stretched at least half the room and you couldn’t help your small smile; ‘he remembered’. Your little stories of staying up huddled in a window frame to watch storms in nearby, or passing, solar systems and planets. You shook your head slowly to yourself and picked up your datapad again, figuring out where exactly you were on the ship - further from the labs, which was a minor inconvenience. It seemed that at least there was an elevator close by that you could use to get to the right floor and then it’d be a straight walk. What interested you though was, looking at the schematic, you appeared to be just two corridors away from Krennic’s own room. That was not coincidence. “Son of a-” suddenly you found yourself laughing. Why? So he could walk past your room every day? So he had you closer? And looking at the rooms around, probably as close as he could get: you were surrounded by his senior command team.

You moved through the room, and started to notice little details that he’d had placed here; books by your favourite authors, or researchers… your favourite music. Maybe you’d told him far too much about yourself. But it was the fact he retained the information that had you impressed. He’d even left you a box, tied with ribbon in your bathroom, and when you pulled at it you found it was filled with very expensive toiletries, that you knew he wouldn’t have been able to come by easily, in all your favourite scents. Nothing is coincidence at all… is it Krennic? Was he trying to woo you - was this all part of a game plan; you could only conclude yes. And by the way your heart was currently beating in your chest, you had to say it was working.

Moving back into the main room and sitting back on the bed with your datapad, ready to send your report for the evening, you’d failed to notice the letter lying on top of your sheets. You pulled your finger across the top of the envelope and unfolded the card carefully: ‘Dear Y/N, Welcome to your new quarters. I believe someone of your talent is worthy of somewhere a little nicer. You will find me just down the hall if you need anything, and please do not hesitate. I hope you enjoy your stay here. And, should there be a storm, that you enjoy the view. Director Orson C. Krennic Head - Imperial Weapons Division’ The card also seemed to be scented, which you had to raise an eyebrow at; ‘who uses scented note cards?! What’s that all about!?’ You put it down to having more money than sense and placed the card on your bedside table, before getting back to what was really important.

As expected, even when it was a little earlier in the evening, Orson Krennic responded to your email almost immediately. ‘Earlier than usual? You really are efficient, Y/N. – K.’ ‘Thought I would get an early night in Director… in my new quarters. You should to.’ - You weren’t meant to imply together, but you also didn’t care if that’s how he read it. ‘Any thoughts? – K.’ ‘They are very nice, thank you. Although in future a little more notification would help!’ ‘Noted. And as you are closer, you can deliver your reports in person now – K.’ You raised an eyebrow, why would that make any sense? ‘When I can send it over email?’ Why... would you? Even when closer the time it’d take you to walk to his quarters, give him the document and walk back, would still be far longer than an email. ‘Consider it. – K.’ ‘I will!’ You weren’t sure you would, but that was what he wanted to hear. And of course you’d play to that whim. ‘Good. Goodnight, Y/N – K.’ ‘Goodnight Orson.’ You stared at the email after you’d sent it and almost screamed. What were you doing-!?! Why were you addressing a senior officer by his first name!? What was he bringing you to? You placed your head in your hands and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, it’s one slip and you can say you were tired and apologise profusely later…’

You threw your tablet on your table too and snuggled back under your new plush sheets. The bed was cozy and soft and suddenly you couldn’t be happier that Krennic had arranged for this. You closed your eyes; it was this time of the evening you liked to try and ground yourself. It was clear that both of you wanted each other to some degree, but you were the one that had to be sure about this and the most careful. You had more to lose here; Krennic had the ability to kick you off the project, not just out of his bed… if you ever got in it. But by now you were pretty sure you would end up in it. It was more a matter of when. He was powerful, you’d covered that. But Krennic was also dangerous, that much was also obvious… dangerous in terrible and delicious ways. So perhaps, as well as everything else, you were drawn to that danger. You wondered suddenly which side of him would show up more when it was just the two of you alone… in conditions more intimate. Would that power completely consume you; did you have any chance at all? You weren’t sure you wanted any at just the opportunity to be pinned under his body. To run your hands over his skin. To answer all the questions you had, and see if all those water cooler rumours were true… (You hoped to God some of them were.)

You were close to drifting off when your eyes suddenly snapped open. Krennic was your favourite pre-sleep thought, and your subconscious tonight brought you a revelation. That note card was not scented. You scrambled around for it and held it close to your face, inhaling. That was what Krennic smelled like - you should know because you’d always thought he smelt pretty good, it was a fairly subtle scent when on his skin - here it was a little stronger, which is why it had taken you so long to pick up on it.

That damn man had sprayed his note to you with his cologne. *** You decided that Krennic knew far too much about you. On the morning after your move you opened your door to head back to the labs, so you could check on the results of your testing, and Krennic was two steps from your door. You were startled by his sudden presence but he offered nothing but a small smile and a casual, “Right on time, Ms. L/N.” “Uh- I- Director.” You wouldn’t exactly say you greeted him as he felt in step with your walk towards the elevator. “How do you think your testing went?” “Well…” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as that cologne seemed to surround you completely. Now your senses were looking for it. Your stomach knotted and you felt the immediate urge to press your thighs together and groan. Dammit. “Well?” Krennic pressed, eying you when you didn’t answer. You hoped your face wasn’t flushing even though you felt hot. “It’s a make or break test. I certainly hope it’s worked.” You could hear that strained edge to your voice, you knew for certain Krennic would have picked up on it. As you turned into the elevator you immediately reached for your button, the Director was two steps ahead of you and your hands brushed. You withdrew yours immediately, and knew you must have been red by now. “S-Sorry.” “No, my apologies, I just wanted to help.” You stared at the floor of the elevator for a good few minutes, holding your fingertips in your other hand. Why did it tingle like that? You didn’t actually ever think you’d physically touched him before, had you? Even when you’d been so close previously in the lab. But it’s not even like it was his skin. In fact, for someone with such a reputation, Krennic had very little skin on display at all. Did he ever not wear gloves? Not that you could recall. ‘Stop-! Y/N! You sound so repressed! You’ve seen naked men before.’ Your eyes flicked back to Krennic, staring at the ceiling, and you swallowed hard. Sure, but you hadn’t seen him naked. The rest of the ride was conducted in silence, because you didn’t trust yourself not to blurt out anything you shouldn’t, but as you left Krennic took a step to stop the doors from closing. “What, not even a goodbye?” You paused in the corridor and turned back to him, unable to stop yourself from smiling that he actually wanted that from you. “Goodbye Director, have a good day.” “Not likely, but work permitting. Good day, Y/N.” and as the doors slid closed on him you caught his wink, and could swear he was smirking.

You stood outside your little lab for a long time before you entered. You admitted to yourself you were delaying the inevitable but you needed to. After all, if this was a complete failure then you might as well throw out almost a years’ worth of work. Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but at least all the months you’d been up here on the battle station. You’d need a good stiff drink and to cry in bed for a couple of days at the very least. Oh, and you’d probably be fired, reputation in ruins… You keyed yourself in and flicked on the lights. What you had done was rigged up a few small versions of the Death Star and set each of them to different vectors. The pieces of Kyber you were using were tiny, but they would still work in principle with your laser pens.

You stared at the points on the wall in turn. One had disappeared completely, which was all but useless to you. It didn’t mean that the calculation wasn’t steady: it could have just meant that the trajectory was way off. Either way, you could discount that as a failure. And the next one; giving a similar waver to when you’d shown Krennic what ‘steady hands’ really meant. Although minimal, you’d already explained why you couldn’t stand for it. That left the last two. And the results looked fairly similar even though your vectors were different for both. You had to call the result unexpected: perhaps there were two ways to do this. You looked back to your little models and then to the points, waving your hand in front of the lasers. And then you smiled, and that small smile became a grin, became a laugh of triumph. Although both were near perfect, the third one had a far stronger beam of light. There was your power. The second most important part of the project. The station had to do what it was built for when the laser reached its target, after all. “We have a winner.” You whispered to yourself walking back to your table. Now you had to report these findings and scale them up to full size. Working in other contingency factors - after all that laser would not be travelling through clean air in a lab and hitting a solid smooth wall. That would be fun.   Still, you couldn’t wait on his report to tell him the good news. ‘Report spoilers: It works!’ There was a long pause between emails, and you could picture Krennic sitting at his desk, relief flooding him, smug little smirk on his face that this was finally going to get done - the finish line seemed in sight now. You hoped you’d made his day. When the email came back you couldn’t help but read into it a little more than you probably should have, and yet you also thought he wanted you to: ‘This sounds like a cause for celebration... – K.’

You did not in fact bring the report to him by hand, and neither did he ask it of you, but from that day forward you were called into his office daily briefings. And suddenly you got to realise just what your research meant to the people working on this station, because the first day you walked in, expecting to see just him, the room was full of his top engineers and each and every single one of them was applauding you. “Now the real work begins.” Krennic was leaning against his desk, arms folded, with eyes only for you. “Welcome, Y/N, to the team that will build your concept. From physical engineering to coding. I will assist in overseeing you, but the team are now at your disposal. From now, until test day.” Your eyes couldn’t help but light up, even though you knew you should have probably been professional about this. “Thank you, Director.” You beamed, “I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this vision a reality, for the Empire!”

Suddenly this was better than anything you’d had with Krennic before - you almost had non-stop contact with him, from walking out of your door in the morning, to retiring for the evening. And you were happy to find that he provided both the perfect intellectual and humorous stimulant. You also noted how many crew members now looked at you with nothing but jealousy. Despite the fact nothing had happened between you yet. The way he regarded you was now even more open. Every look that followed every little flirtatious comment or innuendo was extremely pointed. Sometimes his eyes would even darken. It scared you enough to have you shy away from him; but also had you scared at how much you desired him. You just wanted him to touch you, just the smallest taste. To be honest you didn’t care what he did, as long as he did something. Krennic could bend you over his desk in front of your entire engineering team for all you cared anymore.

Speaking of your engineering team, you’d never seen a group of people work harder or more efficiently, and seeing them turn all your data and tiny models into tangible pieces for the Death Star was wonderful. You gasped to see the sheer size of the Kyber they had harvested to give your vectors pinpoint accuracy. “I have never… seen Kyber like that!” And the way Krennic got all smug again, “Only the best for you. Of course.” “You flatter me, Sir.” And that little knowing nod he gave you back. Once everything started to go into place, and you got word that Galen was almost finished with the laser itself (you received many an email from him about how proud he was and so many others from your friends back on Eadu that you almost cried, thanking them again and again for their participation in even the smallest part of your research), that the dish was currently in the process of being assembled outside and you couldn’t believe you were doing this. You couldn’t believe you were about to be a part of history. Your name was going to be right up there. Never even in your wildest dreams... As you could take a little more time over your reports these days, and there was far less for you to really comment on, you did start to present Krennic with physical copies. Usually just before you headed off for the evening you would drop them off on his desk with a small smile, and he would drag them towards him. “Glad to see you are taking my advice.” “Well, as you seemed fairly adamant I did it, I thought I had better start, Director.” “They do make for good bedtime reading.” “I’ll bet…” Only for the last week you’d started spraying them with your perfume, very subtly at first, but steadily the scent became stronger, and oh, he had noticed. When the doors closed behind you this evening he held the report to his nose and inhaled, groaning as heat coursed through his body. Krennic couldn’t take it any longer, he knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you were dancing around it, and now neither of you were being very subtle, either. But this was the final straw - because he wanted this scent all over him. What it would feel like to pin you beneath him, have your body against his as you whined and called his name, what it would feel like to finally be inside you… He’d certainly thought on it in quieter moments of the evening enough… *** Tonight your report was late. Not for no good reason; you had a lot of data to review. Galen kept sending you updated laser figures to get you as close as possible with your final vectors. Oh, you had no doubt that the Kyber could take it. You’d given a wide berth for the perimeters; but still, you wanted to check and triple check. On your head be it if you didn’t and everything went wrong. Still you wanted to stop by Krennic’s office to let him know why it would be late, as you always seemed to bring it to him around this time these days.

Krennic looked up as you walked in, without even knocking, but he hardly cared about that. His eyes narrowed at the lack of papers in your arms. “Where is my report?” Your face scrunched a little, “If you’d let me get a word out Director, I would tell you. I have a lot of data back from Galen that I want to check and double check before I send it over to you. I want to give you as accurate data and results as possible. So it’ll probably be late, or later than it has been these past few weeks.” Krennic tilted his head, eyebrow raised “Late?” He didn’t sound very appreciative. “Only about as ‘late’ as used to be normal.” He rose from his chair, and those blue eyes locked on yours, “Late-late bedtime reading? This from a woman who says I should be going to bed earlier.” “This once!” You protested as he rounded his desk. “You think that’s good enough?” You didn’t understand why he’d be mad at you, and Krennic didn’t sound mad… but the words he was using… “Well I didn’t think you’d mind.” “Oh, believe me, I mind.” “I-” You were about to tell him you were sorry - although really you had nothing to be sorry for - but he didn’t stop beside you. Instead Krennic stood behind you, a little too close for your liking.

You froze immediately as his voice lowered to a whisper, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. The scrape of leather against your skin made you shiver, and you only wished it was his fingertips. You bit back your moan. “I am alone in my quarters after 2200 hours, it sounds like I’ll have data to review with you: that’s an order.” You swallowed unsure of the kind of response he wanted, “Yes, Sir.” slipped out of your mouth and he seemed satisfied. “Good girl. I want it on paper, as you’ve been doing recently.” “Yes, Sir.” “Well then…” He stepped away from you and you realised that you’d barely breathed for the past few minutes, “You best get to it, hadn’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” What was wrong with you!? Was that all you could say!? When you turned around he’d already moved away, crossing the room. “Good. Now go. And don’t make me wait, Y/N.” Krennic glanced over his shoulder at you, blue eyes burning, “As I’m sure you know by now, I am not a patient man.” *** You had to admit the pressure was on now. Because you did really want to present him with a decent report. (Just in case he wasn’t messing with you and he would be pissed if you didn’t turn up at 2200 with the correct figures.) And you sat back in the lab speed typing your way to the end whilst also trying to be as careful about Galen’s calculations as possible. You were right of course, his new figures still worked perfectly within your own. You looked at the clock, 2130. And the Director had told you not to be late. You printed the report and rushed back to your quarters; your heart was beating on overdrive. Was this about to be the encounter you’d always imagined? The throbbing ache between your thighs you’d also been trying (and failing) to ignore since he’d brushed his fingers to your skin earlier certainly hoped so. You barely had time for a quick shower to freshen up, but you took it anyway before changing and spraying yourself with that same perfume you’d been dousing your reports in, and hoping you wouldn’t run into anyone in the two corridors that you would have to traverse.

You checked yourself in the mirror as you gathered the hard copy of the report and your datapad for back up. You looked flushed, but still pretty at least. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself for your walk - you had a feeling you were about to end up being even more so… You paused suddenly and turned to the window; the colour of space had suddenly caught your eye. Purples and blues fogged in front of you, instead of the usual endless rolling black flecked with stars. It shimmered every so often and you recognised it instantly. ‘An Ion storm is coming…’ you breathed. You hadn’t noticed because your lab had no windows, but you were overjoyed that you hadn’t missed it. You allowed yourself to marvel it for a few seconds more before you realised you were about to make yourself late. Padding down the corridors you were pleased to see that there was no-one on route and you reached his room at exactly 2159. You waited for that minute to tick over, and at 2200, you knocked.

“Enter.” Krennic’s voice called you, with a sultry edge to it. And you bit your lip gently. At the sound of his voice his door slid open, and beckoned you inside. *** If you thought your room was spacious and had a generous window, this one was something else. Krennic’s quarters had a window that swept almost the entire far end of the room, and your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to those vibrant purples and blues again. The lighting was fairly dimmed but you recognised it as ambiance; Krennic was setting a mood here. That feeling stirred once more in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed hard, the room had all the amenities, and you wondered why the hell he even wanted an office as well as this. Probably because he didn’t want everyone in his room, you guessed, but he had a desk and everything here. You scanned across the room to the bed; at least king sized, the sheets looked comfortable and luxurious. Why didn’t that surprise you either.

Footsteps approached from your left and Krennic swept around the corner from whatever had been keeping him occupied. He halted, immediately tipping his head to survey your body - instinctively you pulled the papers up to your chest and hugged them close. “I-I believe you asked me here to take you through a data review, Sir. And I made sure to print them all.” He hadn’t even traced his way up to your face yet and that smile became a grin, became a smirk. Krennic stepped forward - bless you for actually printing the damn report. He held his hand out, “Indeed I did.” You offered up the paperwork and he walked back to his desk, beckoning you to follow him. He could already smell the perfume on the documents, biting back a low moan. He had no intention of reading them tonight. In fact you hadn’t even sprayed the documents with your perfume, but there was so much of it on you that when you’d held them close it couldn’t help but transfer across. Krennic set them, and your datapad, down on his desk and turned back to you, now a little further into the room. Your hair was down to natural length and framed your face delicately. There were no shoes on your feet either. But your dress… oh… Ending just appropriately long enough to cover everything, the silk slip dress - in your favourite colour, Krennic remembered - plunged pretty low, thin straps looped over your shoulders and, he couldn’t see yet, but it had a low back too. At least you were dressed appropriately for where your evening was going to go. Krennic swallowed, aware of his own arousal as he made his way slowly back over to you, again, instead of stopping in front of you he rounded your body. Where he was close the cape brushed against your bare skin and you had to bite your lip hard not to whimper. Why was just the feel of it so sexy? Was it really the thought of being covered in it and nothing else? Would he wear it if you asked him to…? No, maybe not for your first time together… you didn’t think he’d want you making too many demands of him.

“I checked the weather for today and it looks like there will be a good ion lightning storm in the area. We can’t exactly move out of its way so… I thought you might like to observe…” “You remember a lot of things about me, Director… this one I might just have to thank you for.” Even as he disappeared behind you again you kept your eyes front on space, although you couldn’t help but be curious if he was going to touch your hair again. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he was finally gloveless. I really AM like a repressed maiden! He halted, and somehow it felt like he was even closer than before; was Krennic’s breath on the back of your neck just your imagination? You shivered involuntarily and even if you couldn’t see him, you could picture that smirk. His voice was at a husky whisper, already threatening to drive you wild. You didn’t dare press your thighs together, despite your desperation. “This dress is certainly not regulation uniform, and as per the rules, that would mean it needs to be removed.” You didn’t even get the chance to wonder if Krennic was going to do it himself as his large hands rested on your shoulders for a moment. You couldn’t help but tense; it seemed like such a foreign concept, his bare skin touching yours. You wondered if his hands would be calloused with all the work he did. He certainly didn’t mind getting dirty. But he was an architect at heart, and his hands seemed pretty smooth, assured, and warm… he was so warm… Krennic caressed his fingertips over you and you really couldn’t have helped that small whine even if you’d have tried. You were still picturing that delicious little smirk in your head, and you wanted to kiss it off. Patience… At this rate you’ll be getting to do more than that... His fingers slid under the straps, pulling them off your shoulders agonisingly slow, but Krennic didn’t attempt to help the fabric down your body, instead he just let it fall. It pooled around your feet and you swallowed hard again, hearing the slight chuckle in his voice before he tsked you. “You didn’t think to wear anything underneath?” “Well I thought about it, but-” You gasped as his hand grasped your waist, sliding down to your hip, his other brushing your hair back to expose your neck. Krennic’s first kiss wasn’t even tentative; but it was teasing and you shook under his touch. He smirked into your neck as he continued to kiss a trail. You bit back a groan, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin, sighing for certain as his tongue ran over you. Had you told him this too? Or did he really know far too much… Finally having him kiss you after all this time was something that you almost found indescribable, and the heat between your thighs made you press them together as discreetly as possible - he’d get there you were sure of it, but that ache demanded attention. Krennic inhaled - and somehow that perfume smelled even better on your skin. He growled, grazing his teeth over your jugular, pulling your body back into his. “Oh… Y/N… you smell so good.” You gasped again as this time his arms locked around your waist to hold you in place; so close that his cape once again brushed your skin, you simply lay your hands over his. His still clothed body pressed up against yours felt simply divine and you knew Krennic was about to drive you insane, on purpose. As those kisses to your neck became a little hotter - and you started to imagine all the marks about to be left on your body - you couldn’t resist tipping your head back to sigh his name. You couldn’t be sure which he wanted to hear, but surely he would tell you if it was his first name. Maybe he didn’t want his lovers to call him that… you remembered your promise not to become just one on a list, but you didn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Much more enjoy the moment. You leant your body weight back against him, suddenly feeling tiny in his large hands. He smirked into your skin again, pulling back, one hand coming back up to turn your face to his.

“My, my… You’re already so flushed and… responsive.” That little smirk was so gorgeous you had second thoughts about kissing it off. You were already aware of how heavy you were breathing. Krennic bit his lip and somehow that made him sexier, “Have you thought about this?” You nodded, hardly seeing the point of lying. “A lot?” You knew the blush on your cheeks was only getting deeper as you nodded again. Krennic chuckled, “At least I’m not the only one…” He held you in place by your chin, “Whatever your fantasies are, you can tell me. But I can promise I’ll be better.” He studied your face intently, “Would you like me to kiss you, Y/N?” You wondered if that was a stupid question, eyes flicking to his lips and back to that intense stare he was giving you, “Y-Yes.” Surprisingly his kiss wasn’t as rough as they had been to your neck, but he showed no mercy when deepening it, and his tongue wasn’t about to let yours assert any dominance. You could taste hints of alcohol and caffeine, and something sweet - although you could hardly remember what they were serving in the canteen now. When Krennic finally released your lips to let you breathe, you were panting even harder - how was it possible to feel that power even in his kisses; you were going to be completely at his mercy all night and right now it was a delightful prospect. The wealth of experience he had meant he could surely show you a thing or two. The next graze of his lips to yours was fleeting, and he drew from you a whine. By his smile exactly what Krennic wanted. His hands wandered as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, down the run of the pulse in your neck and over your clavicles to your breasts. Keeping those steely blue eyes on yours you were hardly able to look away as his fingertips brushed over your sensitive nipples. Even your attempts to stifle your groans didn’t work and you closed your eyes to his touch as he circled his fingertips around one. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He nudged your head gently with his own to expose your neck to him once more, “And you sound fucking beautiful too…” “K-Krennic…” You mumbled his name again, once again fixating on his fingertips as he moved them across to your other breast, repeating the same teasing circular motion before he kneaded you. You thought you’d read somewhere that you could orgasm just from this - and right now you’d believe it; feeling that sticky sweetness on your inner thighs. At this rate you weren’t going to last until Krennic touched you there. “Maybe we’ll have to make this your regulation uniform.” His voice was husky, “I’m sure I could have that rule changed just for you.” You shuddered again as he pinched your nipple between his fingers playfully, “Would you like that?” “O-Only f-or you.” You might as well go for it; he might as well know exactly how you felt. “Ahhhh!” Krennic vocalised like he’d just figured it all out, “Should I just keep you here? Or in my office? I hold a great many meetings there, though… I’m not sure I would like them all staring at you in your uniform.” He growled into the next kiss he placed to your skin, “I get jealous too, you know?” Well you did now.

Krennic straightened himself to full height, still supporting your weight his hands travelled down your body agonizingly slow; almost as if he was committing every inch of you to his memory. You already knew he liked details - and he was an architect; so it was Krennic’s business to know detail. Just how much could he remember about a lover? How much of you were you prepared for him to discover about you. His fingertips traces over your ribs, down and across your bellybutton and just below your stomach when he paused and his eyes left you. For a moment you’d quite forgotten that you were in the middle of an ion storm, and you wondered what exactly had dragged his attention away from you. The illumination of his face in the first strike of lightning made you gasp. And all you could think of was those eyes in the rainstorm on Eadu. The first time you’d ever seen him, an image that still haunted you. That was no doubt responsible for you now being naked in his arms like this. You turned to the window to watch the lightning for a moment too, flashing across the purples, blues and pinks of the cloud. “Isn’t it beautiful.” You breathed gently, and you heard him chuckle, “I don’t think you’ve looked in a mirror.” This time he pressed his kiss to your temple, and it was almost sweet. But now Krennic had you distracted by the storm - so his fingers traced lower and before you knew it he was pressing down gently on your clit. Your body gave a lurch into his and he growled again. Moving his fingers into your folds, you moaned head tipped back onto his shoulder, “Krennic…” “I knew you wanted me, Y/N, but like this?” His fingers moved through your wetness, teasing your entrance for a moment, and making you shudder, moaning his name again. “I can see that desire in your eyes wasn’t lying…” Krennic was smirking again as he watched you react to his fingertips, dragging them back towards your clit, “How many times have you been this wet around me, hmm? How many times have you thought of me doing this? Do you touch yourself and think about me? Is that what you do?” “Y-Yes-” Your thoughts were hardly coherent at this point, and as soon as his fingers touched your clit again, in teasing circles, you cried out; “Oh, Krennic, please!” “What else do you do to yourself when you think about me, hm?” He put a little more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it, “What do you think about? Me touching you like this? Or me fucking you? What set you off, hmmm? All that water-cooler chat? Believe me I know what they say... How would you like me to do it, Y/N? Do you want me to try to be gentle, or do you want it rough?” As if you really cared; your body shuddered again and you attempted to help the friction by closing your thighs once more, ache becoming a throb. “Uh uh.” His foot jammed between yours and forced your legs to widen for him, “I don’t like cheaters, Y/N.” You moaned once more as those little circles got faster and rougher, “Please, please! Krennic I’m begging you…” You whined, and your voice shook as you could feel that pleasure building, he couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him, “Do whatever you want to me… just fuck me.” He nipped the top of your ear this time, “The pleasure will be all mine.” This time as the lightning flashed it illuminated your body, and Krennic was right, your dips and curves were flawless, you looked ready for him, you felt ready for him… like you were made for this very moment. Krennic moved his fingertips faster - and this time he pushed his body into yours. Your gasp at his grind into you was for one obvious reason; you could feel how hard he was getting. Oh, fuck... Your body shuddered once more and you mewled, positive that you were even wetter now. He knew it too, by that chuckle. “Oh? You want me don’t you? I know you know how wet you are… You want me so fucking bad…” That husky whisper was driving you crazy and you knew Krennic wasn’t going to let up on it, “You feel so hot, so fuckable… Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait to be inside you, but you’ll have to wait for that.” This time your groan was a little strangled, “That’s it, be a good girl… cum for me.”

If it wasn’t what he was doing to you it was his voice alone that sent that shot of pleasure right through you, burning head to toe with no mercy. You cried out again, but this time it was his first name you used - and you hoped he didn’t care. Panting as you felt the sweat begin to gather on your skin. Your legs shook a little but he held you strong. “Good girl.” He removed his fingertips from your clit, once again pressing a kiss to your neck, “But, you know as well as I that this is hardly over…” You rested your body against his chest for a minute, and he carded his fingers through your hair; it was almost soothing as Krennic twisted it between his fingers, “How about we use the bed now, hmm?”

“…Y…Yes…” You could only hazily agree, would he actually fuck you now? You were throbbing again - sure he’d said he wanted to be inside you, but did he know how much you needed him inside you? “Go on,” Krennic pushed you forward with his hand to the small of your back, you stumbled a little but didn’t fall and he observed your walk, the curves of your ass - the lingering of your arousal on your thighs. “Hands down.” He followed you across the floor - he was aware of how uncomfortable he felt, with heat in just the right places, and the way his pulse was running just to look at you. But he had to take this slow. The goal wasn’t just to bed you, it was to erase every other man from your memory too, so that he was your one and only waking thought.

You had to admit your confusion, but placed your hands out on the sheets in front of you to support your body, Krennic made you keep your feet on the floor and for a second you wondered if this was how he was going to do it. It seemed like a waste of a good bed, but your brain was hardly running your feelings here and that throb between your legs was so desperate for something that you didn’t care how you got it. Instead of hearing him shed clothing, or even just undo his zipper, Krennic’s fingers ran your spine. He really was about to commit every inch of you to memory, you weren’t kidding, before he traced them over your ass. You were half expecting him to slap you, but that didn’t happen either. In fact his fingers went right back to your wetness, and you shivered again; Krennic’s movements this time were less teasing as he pushed his fingers into you; you cried out - he didn’t even bother with one at a time. But at least there was something dulling that ache for a second; although you knew what your body really craved. The storm illuminated everything in the room, and far more regularly than before, as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The hums he was making were satisfied, and part of you wished you could see what they looked like crossing his face. In fact the thought that you might not get to see his face almost disappointed you. But you realised something else, the colours the storm were throwing everywhere, the very sound of it - with how much you enjoyed them anyway - and Krennic here with you, was only serving to turn you on even more. And he noticed. “Oh?” This sounded almost curious, “So lightning makes you even more wet, or is that just me?” You swallowed hard, against the feeling of his fingers stretching you, you were desperate for him to get naked now. “To… be honest, no-one has ever fucked me in a lightning storm.” “Huh. Maybe they should have tried, I figure they’re missing out.” You whined again, “Krennic please… please… I can’t take much more of this… fuck, I… I need you.”

You weren’t sure if Krennic did it because he was listening to your plea, or if he was simply just ready to do it himself, but the next thing you knew he’d removed his fingers from you and flipped your body so you were now on your back, on the bed. And as your eyes locked with his you realised exactly what you would have been missing out on. Although serious, those eyes were so incredibly dark and lust rimmed, and hungry for your body, that you thought you might come undone again right then and there. He placed his thumb delicately against your lips for a second, tracing them, before smirking again, “Open your mouth.” You blinked, but finding no reason not to do what he asked, your lips parted, tongue grazing his fingertip. Krennic immediately smirked, “That’s a good girl.” Before he slid the two fingers that had just been inside you, into your mouth. You moaned gently at the sensation. “I bet you taste so good, don’t you?” You could feel yourself blushing again, unsure exactly how to respond to that besides another muffled moan. He withdrew them, eyes narrowed even though he was smiling.

“And you do exactly what I say…” Krennic drew himself back to height, dragging his eyes down your body and as he did so he reached up to his shoulders, undoing the fastenings for his cape. Oh, you were going to get to watch Krennic undress? You moved to help him, but his eyes raised back to your face - and this time the bright white flash made those eyes of crystal blue let you know that he wanted you to stay absolutely still. “You look ready for me darling. Are you?” You nodded, hoping that the look on your face was as pleading as you thought it was. “Born ready for me…” Krennic’s voice this time sent chills through you with how commanding it was, “Mine.” You watched the cape fall to the floor and wished again for that silky texture to brush against your skin, perhaps you would ask him again later. He undid his tunic and shrugged himself out of it; Krennic wasn’t exactly bothering to put on a show for you - but it still felt like one, running his hands through his hair with a breath out before he undid his shirt. Slower now, button by button as he looked into your eyes, that little teasing smile on his face only made your lips part. This man was so gorgeous. And you were here, in his quarters, in his bed. You out of the many hundreds of women on this Battle Station - and all of them beautiful - Director Orson Krennic wanted you. He threw his shirt behind him too, before settling his hands on his waistband. You studied him for just long enough, he was built more toned than chiselled, and his arms and chest were particularly defined; there was a scar on his left-hand side, just above his heart, and you wondered what the story was with that. Maybe in a quieter moment you would ask, but that was not a story for right now. You traced back to where his fingers were waiting for you to take him all in and this time you bit your lip, you’d already felt him against you but you still weren’t sure you were adequately prepared… Undoing his zip with as much tease as his buttons Krennic let his pants and boxers fall at the same time. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed hard ‘Oh, holy shit...’ Your heartbeat picked up pace and you felt yourself clench greedily just at the sight of him. You bit your lip a little harder and raised your eyes back up Krennic’s body to his face, “I want to let you know - although it sounds like you do know - that every single one of those rumours is SO fucking true.” He smirked, “I might have started one or two of them myself.” You almost laughed, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He gave a shrug, “Well darling, don’t we all want to project the best version of ourselves?” Krennic joined you on the bed, settling himself between your thighs again, pulling your legs around him, “Now I’m going to prove the rest of them true, whilst also letting you in on some things you don’t know.”

You had every right to moan as loud as you did as he pushed into you, feeling completely filled right away. Definitely true - part of you felt you might be smirking very broadly into your coffee in the mornings from now on. Instead of covering your body Krennic stayed in that kneeling position with your legs crossed behind him, hands gripping your thighs and nails digging into your skin. You almost wanted his nails to leave marks, for there to be bruises that lingered for more than just a few days where he gripped you - just to prove it had really happened. If this is a dream please don’t ever let me wake up. He growled as you adjusted to each other, voice husky once more, “You’re so tight.” Your sigh came out a little choked with your breathing as - at first - he moved slow, hands gilding softly over your skin as he lay his palms flat. But he still had enough pressure on you; Krennic was still in control. Right now, being in control was the last thing you were thinking of.

Those slow movements of his were a facade, but they had you already moaning - body tingling as you got used to the feelings of Krennic being inside you. You wondered if you should be trying to be quiet? How many other senior officers had rooms around Krennic’s that could potentially hear this - did Krennic even care? What if they knew it was you though? You weren’t necessarily sure you wanted the reputation that might come with being Krennic’s bed mate, even if it really was only going to be tonight. As if he knew what you were thinking Krennic pushed into you a little harder, causing you to cry out a little louder than before - no point in holding back. “Let me hear you, Y/N. Let me hear those delicious little moans of yours. You can be as loud as you want here, I won’t tell anyone…” He smirked, “You might as well let yourself - because this is going to be the best orgasm of your life, or it’s going to be nothing. I don’t do half measures.” That seemed like an odd form of encouragement, but hot enough to get you mewling again. And he didn’t slow his pace. Instead Krennic dug his nails back into your skin, thrusting into you harder and rougher. You arched your back up, pushing your hips into his to take him deeper and deeper. Usually you weren’t so loud during sex, but with your eyes closed to the ecstasy of it all, each thrust received a moan that steadily grew louder and louder until you were pleading him: “Oh, Krennic… Oh please, more… Harder, Sir, please… please don’t stop…” This was clearly only urging him on as he found another notch in his pace. You might be one for thinking this was the best sex you’d ever had as you opened your eyes to focus on him once more; Krennic’s skin was starting to get that dewy look as sweat started to build, leaving his hair to look a darker shade of grey. And that lightning… oh, that lightning. Watching that storm behind him made the pleasure even more intense. The backdrop was stunning to an already flawless view - what more could you possibly ask for?

His sex was deliciously rough, and it was all you could do to watch his body, the way his muscles moved with each thrust, the tension running from his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingers and the little indents from his nails you could see in your skin. You almost wanted those fingers back inside you again too. Krennic growled as that thought led to you clenching around him: “What are you thinking about?” You looked to his face, obviously you were already flushed, but if it were possible to turn a deeper shade of red you were now. “...Please…” You voice wavered and you realised where this was all heading, “Please Krennic harder… Please I want to- I want to- let me cum for you.” That smirk was just plain dirty, and as he placed one hand under you to raise your hips a little more his next thrust found your sweet spot. You cried out even louder - hit with a shot of pleasure more intense than any you thought you’d ever felt. “Fuck-! Director-! Please!” He chuckled, “I have a first name, Y/N, you can use it.” Did he want you to use it? Did he ask everyone he took to bed to use it? You gasped again as white-hot heat shot through you head to toe and your legs locked around him, pulling him even deeper as you tipped your head back. And he knew as well as you did: “That’s a good girl, that’s my good girl.” Krennic continued to thrust into you until you had to squeeze your eyes shut, head tipped back you very nearly screamed his first name as your body shook and you came undone.

 Your short, sharp pants didn’t really have any time to become afterglow, or some slow paced ‘love making’ for him to ride into his own high. Oh no, Krennic wasn’t finished with you yet - and although he lingered at a slower pace for a little - you could feel yourself building up again, heightened by the climax you had just felt. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you got the feeling that Krennic was not about to be termed a selfish lover. But a possessive one; your body was his, and he wasn’t finished with you yet. You cried out as he took that pace up again, you could feel him getting harder inside you, every little twitch as he continued those rough thrusts. “You ready for more?” You nodded weakly, moaning again, this would be the third time in one evening. Even if these two were in quick succession. “Yes what?” The commanding tone in his voice and the way he squeezed your thighs a little harder made you shake again, “Yes, Orson. Please… please, baby… I- I’m ready.” As you said his name this time Krennic pushed his body forward so that his hands rested above your shoulders, catching your lips in a harsh kiss. Your hands immediately shot to his arms, over those toned shoulders, and your fingers tangled in his hair. This time his kisses swallowed your moans, and the higher in pitch they got the more he knew you were ready to let go again. With him all over you like this, the scent of that cologne filled your senses. Krennic thrusted into you one last time and let you cry out into his shoulder. He could probably go a little longer - but he’d build you up to that in due time, he couldn’t ruin you on your first time with him. As you clenched around him, just as greedily as before, Krennic growled - hot breath in your ear as your own ecstasy became his. And now you were his too.

He let you continue to embrace him as you both panted, moving his own hands to gently caress your sides, your stomach and your thighs. Although the only sound was your breathing, and you could barely think of anything else, hands carding through his hair and watching those beautiful blue eyes focus on nothing in particular. Until the lighting strike flashed closer to you than before, causing him to look out the window. You followed his line of sight. “It really is gorgeous…” You weren’t sure if that muse was supposed to come out of Krennic’s mouth, but it made you smile. “Mhm… And I need to have sex in storms more often.” He chuckled, turning back to you and kissing your neck, softly, “Well, you know who to call.” Krennic pulled out of you gently, smirking again to see yours and his arousal lingering on your inner thighs. His. Before he lay next to you, eyes still on the storm.

You wondered what the best thing to do now was, as your high unwound. Ironically you didn’t think your body had been this relaxed in a while either. Should you leave? Should you make the decision to leave him before he kicked you out himself? You wondered if that was the polite thing to do. You didn’t know if Krennic was the type to really sleep with someone. When he would be at his most vulnerable. You weren’t sure he would want to show that side of himself to anyone. You decided you would show willing, and would let him know that you would leave if that’s what Krennic wanted - you weren’t about to outstay your welcome. Instead, Krennic did the unexpected and, finally settling down in the sheets, he pulled you into his arms, showering you with delicate kisses and touches. Aftercare... You snuggled into his body, sighing in sleepy content and closed your eyes as he pulled the sheets further around you. Did you dare believe this was happening - No, and yet it was. You were really here, in the Director’s arms. And he wanted you to stay. Krennic pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you could already feel yourself drifting off in his arms: “We’ll review your report in the morning.” *** When you awoke, the lights in his room were up to their brightest day setting. Krennic’s free hand was wandering over your thighs absentmindedly as he lay on his back, your datapad in his other. You tried to concentrate on that small smile on his face, those blue eyes of his, just how good he looked comfortable and relaxed, and out of uniform. You hadn’t noticed the collection of freckles across his chest in the dark of the storm last night either. Suddenly you wanted this moment to last forever, no matter now impossible. This coupled with the travel of his hands, even at this time in the morning, was making you sigh blissfully.

Krennic’s eyes flicked from what he was reviewing to your face as he turned his head slowly. “This report is good. Perfect, even. The ion storm messed with some systems last night, that can’t be helped. But we should all be back online to work later. I agree with your data, consider it reviewed.” Your head tipped curiously. “Systems are down? So…” You bit your lip wickedly, “We don’t have to leave?” Krennic placed your datapad on his bedside table and rolled over, hand moving to between your thighs, he could read that mischievous little smirk of yours perfectly. “Not until much later if I have anything to say about it.” You blinked once slowly, opting to voice your single concern now, before anything got out of hand, it was a whisper that seemed so out of place. But maybe that made it the perfect time. “I don’t want to be just a one-time thing.” Krennic’s eyebrows knitted for a second, before he smiled gently, other hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he tangled his fingers in your hair, bringing you back to his lips. “Trust me, that was never a consideration.”

---

Thank you SO much for reading, oh my gosh I’m slightly emotional over this one. I NEVER thought it’d be this long. And it’s 200. Like... there’s 200 of these things!? 

I didn’t think I would get past one. And it’s ALL because of you guys! 

Thank you for all your love and support - I know I keep saying it but I truly mean it. It means the world to me. 💙💜

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 22 - Not Strong Enough

Masterlist; Chapter 21

Summary: You reunite with Neil aboard the icebreaker. With the tension amping up and the mission nearing it’s finale, you have a difficult time making sense of everything. 

Warnings: angst (yep, loads of it), swearing.

Author’s Notes: Here it is, finally! Know it took me ages, and I’m so sorry for that. Hopefully from now on it won’t be as bad... This one was fun to write since there’s a lot of emotions to go through :)) Hope you’ll enjoy! Let me know what you think!

PS. Now that we’re onto the icebreaker chapters let me just say that I’ve got a lot planned ;) and I’m excited to share it so thank you all who have sticked around <3 

The moment you stepped out of the inversion chambers and into the normal world (well, normal but looking fucked up to you and eight days previously), Ives received the promised further instructions. Get to Trondheim with the local squad, regroup with the reinforcements there, get on board the icebreaker equipped with the inversion technology. At least that was the information you got. Easy. Well, almost, but thankfully nothing seemed to depend on you. Yet. So, you followed the rest of the squad onto the chinook, ignoring the phone that never rang anymore. That was okay. You would not even know what to tell Neil if he called. In less than two hours, you were on military transport to Norway. Again.

In the tense silence of those hours of flight, it was easy to rest. At least you have changed the setting and could focus on stressing about all that was to come instead of the personal matters. Yes, you would have to face Neil and probably work with him as though nothing happened. But the more pressing matter was the potential world ending. For that, you could endure the pain. Focusing on avoiding hyperventilation through the mask, you fell asleep, giving in to the tiredness. When Wheeler shook you awake hours later, you have landed at the base in Trondheim. The icebreaker was supposed to cross by the shore on the next day, leaving the night to be camped out in the military containers on the periphery of the base.

You were lucky to land a spot in the container shared with Wheeler, as she was second in command, and you were still considered ‘precious cargo’. Precious to whom you had no idea. But that did not matter. After a quick meal made up of tin food and weak tea from the thermos, your roommate left for an inspection of the troops and a confab with Ives. You had peace. Taking off the unnecessary layers of clothing, you intended to use the time to curl up under the covers and mope. But it was not meant to be. Suddenly the silence of the air-locked container got pierced by your phone ringing. What the hell… Glancing at the display, your heart stopped for a split second. For a moment, you wanted to ignore it. To pretend you are not available. But your heart knew better, unable to give up the possibility of hearing his voice after all this time. Sitting up on the cot, you picked up the phone. A long exhale on the other side followed by…

“Hey”

As simple as that. Fuck. Neil’s voice was enough to trigger the feelings. The husky tone, the tiredness you sensed through that one word alone. The advantage of the phone call was that he could not hide too much. Not from you.

“Hi… um, why…” you trailed off, annoyed at how something so simple could disrupt the fragile peace.

But judging by the long pause, it was not just you for whom the conversation was a struggle. Brilliant.

“TP told me to call you” right, “Give you a run-down of the state of affairs, so tomorrow is easier for us all,” he added, using that professional tone you came to detest.

Call you? The voice of reason tried to break through the amalgamation of thoughts and feelings. It did not make much sense, seeing as TP did not even trust you after the latest revelations.

“Me?” you blurted out.

Anyone else would have been a more obvious choice. But Neil called you. Why? You wanted to add that question to the mix, but before you could do so, he came up with an answer.

“Not exactly, but I’ve decided that you can pass it on to Ives and so on” the uncertainty in his voice ignited the spark.

“I see” that was the only comment you could muster.

But he understood. He cleared his throat before resuming the conversation. An image flashed before your eyes: tired Neil, with ruffled hair, curled up in the armchair in Oslo, glancing at you from the pages of the book you just borrowed him. That stupid soft smile gracing his exquisite features. Eyes sparkling with satisfaction and affection. Enough.

“We’ve managed to save Kat with that stunt in Oslo…” his voice brought you back to the present moment.

That was something. Despite not having even talked to Kat, you felt sympathy towards her.

“I’m glad. Is she alright?” you occupied the shaking hands with picking up pieces of lint off the blanket.

It did not help your racing pulse. Or the increasing ache in your chest.

“Yeah, she’s recovering. There’s a scar, but that’s nothing compared to what could’ve happened”

God knows what made you say the first thing on your mind then:

“We’ve all been scarred… one way or another” as soon as the words left your mouth, you knew that it was too much.

Fucked up again. It was difficult to remember that you were not supposed to share your thoughts with him anymore. That this was not allowed. Once again, so much had to be left unspoken just for the sake of your sanity.

“I know that better than anyone” his response and the sombre tone made you swallow hard.

Of course. You had no doubts he was regretting the decision to take that bullet for you in New York. After all, the scar was there to haunt him for eternity, reminding him of the time and effort wasted on you.

“TP met with Priya in Oslo…” the change of topic was vital, “She told him about the algorithm and got us the icebreaker” Neil explained.

Back to business. Thank God. All would be perfect if it was not for the audible strain in his voice. It was evidently torturing. For both of you.

“Sator’s got it? All of the parts?” clearing your head, you asked the most important of questions.

How fucked were you?

“Yes,” no hesitation.

Very much so. What would life be without a world-ending scenario taking place just when everything was coming apart? Too boring, probably.

“Fuck” you breathed into the phone, taking a beat to think, “Do we know where? When?”

At least anxiety now had a proper anchor. Something to dig into and stay fixed for a while. A constant companion.

“The day of the Kiev opera siege. But I don’t know where, TP won’t tell me” the remorse was palpable, “Kat helped us piece it together. Sator’s dying, and probably intends to kill himself and trigger the dead-drop, activating the algorithm” double fuck.

Could it get worse? You dared not ask. For a moment, you were grateful Neil called you with the news. At least that way, you heard it from someone you trusted. Or once trusted.

“Jesus…” the silence on the other end was almost comforting, “So that’s the plan? To go back and try to stop him…” you trailed off, raking your head for ways to fix things.

Inversion for over a week more was one thing. Actually pulling this off was another. Because you doubted someone like Sator would be unprepared. You could only hope someone had a plan. Or that your helpful texts would come around. One could wish.

“Yes, in essence,” Neil confirmed your thoughts with that ever-present gloom in his tone.

He was worried too. That eternal desire to comfort him nagged at your bruised heart. It would only get worse once he was within your reach. The collision was unavoidable.

“Okay,” suddenly you wanted nothing but to end the call and sleep, “I’ll let Ives know”

With the awkwardness burning bright, the goodbye was on the tip of your tongue. But…

“I-” Neil cut himself off suddenly.

What? The curiosity was relentless.

“Do you need anything else?” you sat up straighter, forcing the nonchalance.

“No,” after a beat, he added, “Well-”

Christ. There was no power to ignore him.

“Yes?” you stifled the butterflies in your stomach.

It could only hurt more. Surely he would not have anything better to say.

“How are you doing?” the question was dropped with merciless indifference.

You were right. Only he could be that blunt. Unable to keep cool, you cursed out loud:

“Fuck’s sake” taking a deep breath, you gathered all the needed strength to continue, “Neil, do you seriously want me to answer this question?”

There was not enough air in the room. Forcing yourself to calm down, you stared at the wall, counting dents in the metal. Anything to stop the panic.

“I just thought... we’re... I haven’t seen you in over a week and-” he stumbled over the sentence pathetically.

“Maybe it’s better you stop thinking,” you cut him off, feeling the familiar surge of anger “For a while”

How did he dare? You would have thought that he would know better. That he would understand that things changed, and he was no longer allowed access into your mind. But trust Neil to mess it up. To be ignorant of how you felt.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you” the soft tone took you by surprise.

Despite the shock, you were too pissed off to give in.

“... I’m afraid you’ve fucked it then,”

There was no stopping the words that spilled from your throat. They rolled off your tongue, fueled by bitterness and hurt.

“It’s not easy getting over rejection, but then you wouldn’t know that. Everyone wants you. And if they don’t, you move on. No hearts harmed in the process. But not everyone is that lucky” you finished only once there was no breath left in your lungs.

Now he knew. The words hung in the space between you, making the phone seem heavy in your hand. Too much too soon. Just when you thought Neil would not respond, you could hear him take a deep breath before asking:

“Is this really how you understand what I said?” the strange timbre in his voice was confusing.

It was as though he was utterly defeated, devoid of anything but resignation. But why? It was you who were hurting, not him. It made no sense.

“Yes,” that had to suffice.

You already said too much, exposed yourself again. Giving him ammunition to strike when necessary. There was no pretending that you did not care. Or that your misplaced love confession during your last conversation was a lie. A sudden noise at the airlock made you look up. Wheeler entered your shared container, oblivious to the drama taking place. After a second of hesitation, you found that you did not mind the company. Once your eyes met, you just nodded, giving her permission to stay. The sombre half-smile told you she suspected who was on the other end.

“I haven’t pushed you away. When you…” Neil’s voice came through the speaker again.

A hint of desperation. As though he wanted you to understand something obvious. But there was nothing there. You could not forget how he took everything but never gave anything back. It was rather simple.

“There’s a major difference between love and want” stating the truth, you could feel Wheeler’s attentive gaze on you “Doubt you’d push away someone as desperate as I was. Especially when you could have something pleasant out of it. But that doesn’t mean you love me” the strength needed to say those words was all you could manage “I need to go now”

You desperately wanted to bury yourself under the blanket and sleep. Maybe never wake up. That could be nice.

“…I’ll see you tomorrow then” the reluctance tore into the remains of your heart.

Tomorrow. Too soon. You knew there was no way of preparing for it. You would have to endure the unbearable and bear it. The world was more important than your comfort or pride.

“Yes, unfortunately,” the honesty could not hurt anyone.

Least of all Neil. You ended the call before he could say anything else and dropped the phone on the bed. Fuck. Burying your head in the pillow, you tried to level the breathing.

“Are you alright?” Wheeler’s question drifted across the narrow space.

“I will be,” you shrugged, turning to lie on your back and stare at the ceiling.

Emptiness. And even more anxiety. Amazing combo. And all because of that dyed blonde lanky bastard with eyes too blue and jaw too sharp. Trust you to fall for the unattainable.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” you glanced sideways at your companion with a grimace, “He called to give me a summary of the events, so to speak” that part still did not make sense, but who were you to argue.

Wheeler let out a low hum, making you face her. You did not like the suspicious expression on her face. But you were too tired to ask. Ignorance is our ammunition and all that. You resumed the summary with a heart even heavier:

“And then he asked how I am, and I just…” you trailed off, giving in to the feelings, “Christ, I’ve no clue how I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow”

Pathetic, again. You half expected Wheeler to slap you for being an annoying, lovesick teenager pining after her crush. Which you were, in all fairness. But instead, you felt a hand pat your arm reassuringly.

“You’ll manage” glancing up, you met the warm smile of your companion, “You’re strong” before you could argue, she added, “And from what I’ve heard, you two really should talk, so maybe the opportunity will come up” it was her turn to shrug, wandering off to prepare the second cot.

“I suppose” that sounded like a nightmare “Got news for you and Ives, by the way”

You were hoping she will make you go to the squad leader right this moment. That would be a perfect distraction.

“Those can wait till tomorrow, get some sleep”

Well, fuck.

*** The nerves and increasing panic only caught up with you in the containers on the way to the icebreaker. The morning was spent in that blissful motion you needed so badly. You passed on the information to squad leaders, packed up, and got ready for the journey, which commenced after you got a call from the ship’s captain. The time spent on board was too short for your liking. Gripping the duffel back with your belongings, you focused on breathing slowly while the chinook approached the icebreaker, preparing to drop the containers and fly off. Somehow, the rattling and the cramped space of the metal box were almost comforting. No one could hurt you there. There was no one to escape and to hide from. But, of course, that too was over too soon. As the container touched the ground with a thud, making you all jump up, you only had a moment to clench your jaw. Ives stood up and opened the door as you all formed a proper formation for disembarking. The cold, piercing light of the sun hit you in the face as the wind tangled the cord connecting your oxygen tank to the mask. One look around assured you of two things – you would have to get accustomed to the sight of sea and sky for miles and that there was no hiding from Neil.

He was there, stood right next to TP, awaiting your arrival. It took you a moment to get accustomed to his military get-up. The black windbreaker zipped up, cargo pants with armour pads on the knees, and heavy boots. Hair windswept, falling into his eyes, making you want nothing but to brush it away. Brilliant. And naturally, he noticed you as well, eyes looking over your frame and face, searching for something. You did wonder whether he found it. To distract yourself, your gaze slipped over to look at TP. Still suspicious and serious. But at least he was not staring at you, trying to see into your soul. And that was enough.

“Welcome aboard” his grim countenance lit up for a second.

After a motion from Ives, you stepped up along with him and Wheeler, joining the two men. You had a proper look around. The rows of containers, rigs, and equipment being stacked in crates, ready for the upcoming battle. Eyeing the accommodation part of the cargo ship, you listened on to the conversation:

“Where exactly are we heading?” Ives’s voice cut straight to the point.

Good question. You glanced back at TP, only to find an enigmatic smile grace his features.

“All in the right time,” he responded, and you could see Neil grimace.

Somehow seeing him that frustrated did not cause any satisfaction. Quite the contrary even. To your inner horror, his eyes met yours right then. Curiously considering, before he reached out a hand:

“It’s good to see you” that was undoubtedly directed at you.

The empty pleasantry hurt like a bitch. But, with four pairs of eyes set on you, there was no choice but to accept the outstretched hand. Swallowing down the panic, you let his hand envelope yours in the casual handshake. Even that amount of contact was enough to make you spiral. Especially with how his thumb brushed over your knuckles. The eyes never leaving yours, urging you to understand something. What you had no clue. The moment was over before you realised, and Neil directed the next sentiment at your companions.

“All of you” they exchanged the handshakes while you stared on.

Once that was done, TP directed your attention towards the accommodation again:

“We’ll show you what’s where” he started walking, giving the directions on the go, “Let everyone else disembark in the meantime”

At least he was more like himself.

You followed them, taking in all the shown spaces. The lower part was occupied by the turnstile and potential training spaces. As you passed, you could hear Ives making arrangements for the troops to start sparing and shooting practice as soon as possible. Next, there were bunk beds and sleeping spaces for everyone. Rows upon rows of small bunks, only privacy was a curtain separating the mattress from the outside world. But it had to do, of course. As you moved up past the machinery, the kitchen, and the common spaces, you have been led to an airlocked corridor near the bridge.

“That’s where we sleep” TP waved a hand in the general direction of the many doors in the corridor.

There was a total of four cabins and a bathroom. Your gaze settled on Neil again. Entirely on its own accord. He shifted hesitantly before directing a question at the squad leader:

“Ives, do you guys want to stay with the troops?”

You could see the emotions bubbling under the nonchalant expression. It was not the usual charming, suave Neil you have met. Now there was uncertainty, doubt, and insecurity. As though he suddenly lost all the confidence and was trying to piece himself together. You did wonder what made him hurt that much.

“Yeah, that’s better for the morals,” Ives replied, ending your strange thoughts.

“As you wish,” Neil grinned in response, before glancing at TP, “I’ll go check on Kat”

Before anyone could respond, he disappeared down the corridor. Interesting. Could it be that he too was bothered by what was going on? Difficult to imagine but plausible.

“Those are yours, Y/N” the mention of your name made you look up.

TP was staring at you inquisitively, a hand on a doorknob, awaiting a reaction. That was unexpected. As much as the fact that he used your name. And did not look that pissed off anymore. You did wonder what was said during their journey back to Oslo. How much did he know?

“I thought I’ll be with the rest of the squad” you stared back quizzically.

“Neil made sure you got your own space” TP shrugged as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

What the hell. Was that why he so casually run off?

“How very kind of him,” you muttered, feeling the gazes of everyone else burning on your skin.

Damn people and their curiosity.

“He’s down the corridor, if-” oh fuck no.

“Thanks,” you cut off the boss with the voice as cold as ice.

He understood, nodding curtly. Thank god. It was enough to know that Neil was close. You did not need the specifics. Or the insinuations behind the information. It did not matter; you would not be visiting him any time soon. Or ever.

*** You have managed to avoid meeting Neil throughout the day. It was busy, filled with getting settled aboard the icebreaker and planning what the next days are going to hold. You were not told what your destination was, but you had a clue Ives knew. That was… disappointing. You have happily missed the mealtime, choosing to hide in the 2 x 3 metres of space that was your cabin. The small bed, one round window, tiny bedside cabinet, and a chair were all you could depend on for the next eight days. Not bad. You were intent on staying there for as long as possible, avoiding the outside unless absolutely necessary. It was a good plan until, at around 1 am, your stomach started rumbling. Supposedly a whole day on just breakfast was bound to end like this. But you were still outraged. Because that meant going out. And here there be monsters. Sighing heavily, you put on the shoes and a jacket and warily stepped into the corridor. Silence. Cold metal walls and floors, deep dark shadows. With the official meeting taking place the next morning, you were hoping everyone was asleep. Or doing whatever people did at night.

Sealing the airlock in the small kitchen, you took off the oxygen mask and placed it on the small table. The galley was equipped with the necessary stuff, including a large, packed fridge, a kettle, sink, and some cabinets filled with non-perishable foods. The eerie silence was almost deafening, so you turned the kettle on, creating background noise. Going through the arsenal, you chose to prepare a sandwich and a tea and then promptly run away to your room. Just in case. As you set to work, confidence grew. Maybe you got lucky. You were in the middle of cutting the bread roll in half when the unmistakable sound of the zipper rung out. Fuck.

“… Hey,” of course.

Your hand slipped, knife slicing open the skin on your pointer finger. Blood dripping onto the counter.

“Shit!” you cursed and dropped the knife, bringing the injured finger to your mouth.

As the coppery taste dissolved on your tongue, you risked turning around to face the intruder. That was mistake number one. Neil was staring at you with concern etched onto his face. Lips pursed; brows furrowed. Hair ruffled as though he has been outside for an extended period of time. The moment your eyes met his, you felt trapped. There was nowhere to go. Just you and him, in 7 square metres. Bloody perfect. His gaze flitted between you and your wounded hand, hesitating and calculating. It was obvious, even to him.

“Are you alright?” the strange unfamiliarity took you by surprise.

You could see the conflict plain as day. Glancing at the cut, you were relieved to see that it was rather shallow, albeit still bleeding significantly. Turning on the tap to rinse it, you replied:

“Yep,” that simple.

And yet not at all. Neil edged closer, stopping right next to you but preserving a meter of space. Turning off the water, you looked up at him curiously. Too close. The blue threatened to drown you if you were not careful. He reached out a hand with fingers trembling slightly. You were frozen in the spot, seeing but unable to react, as he took another step forward.

“Show me-” the moment his skin made contact with yours, the paralysis disappeared.

God no. You jumped back, hitting the edge of the counter with your back. A dull throbbing was nothing compared to the hammering heart and the searing pain in your chest. His eyes widened in shock. Your reaction was evidently unexpected.

“No, that won’t be necessary” finding the voice again, you mustered a tight-lipped smile.

If this were to work, you had to avoid any physical contact. Somehow you knew that if he touched you, the resolve would begin to crumble. That could not happen. You took a deep breath and focused back on the task. The tension was of the knife-cutting kind. Swallowing you both in despair. In the corner of your eye, you could see Neil hesitate, watching you closely. Then he must have made up his mind, for he opened the fridge and started searching for something. After another minute of near-fatal awkwardness, you spoke up:

“Have you been outside?” a simple question dropped in an almost neutral tone.

Fitting perfectly between strokes of the butter knife on the roll. Small talk, easy enough, right?

“Yeah, I’ve watched the stars” Neil took out bread and settled by you at the counter “The sky’s pretty clear tonight” he glanced at you for a second, an enigmatic look on his face.

The walls were up. Back to pretending.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, praying to every god in the universe for help.

Thankfully, one must have listened… Well, sort of.  

“You’ve missed the meal earlier,” he noticed while turning on the toaster.

Of course, he would. Forcing your hands to stay steady as you sliced up the tomato, you thought of a good enough answer. Because the truth would not do.

“Just didn’t feel like it” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

But he was staring. Leaning by the counter, watching you closely. You felt that this was it when it came to a casual conversation between you.

“But now you do?” this next question sounded differently.

There was a suspicious edge to his voice that you knew would be reflected in his eyes. Your acting was not good enough for this. Swallowing down the rising discomfort, you faced him and steeled your features.

“Yes,” that should suffice.

But then, seeing him attempt psychoanalysis through the means of staring, you chose honesty.

“I was hoping I won’t meet anyone around here this late,” you added and met his gaze.

A challenge. Tell me how I’m wrong, kind of thing. The truth he so clearly wanted. And Neil took it without hesitation.

“Anyone? Or just me?” eyes narrowed; lips curled into a smirk you did not like.

What the fuck? You felt a rush of anger. He maybe was right. But that did not mean he was allowed to question you. To make claims as clear as this.

“What’s your point?” you arched an eyebrow, forcing the most neutral of tones.

A shadow passed through his face, a hint of uncertainty. But as soon as you noticed it, it was gone. He shook his head with an almost imperceptible smile.

“No matter” waving his hand dismissively, he reached for the kettle.

Too close again. His arm brushed against yours as he filled in both of your mugs with the boiling water. You glared at that but chose to bite back the comment. At least he was being useful…

“You were rather quiet earlier...” Neil’s voice brought you back to the present moment.

Your head snapped up, meeting his intense stare. What? From the curiosity in his eyes, you deduced that he was waiting for an answer to that. You were sure to deliver.

“If you wanted me to publicly declare my hatred for you, then I’m sorry to disappoint,” shrugging, you took satisfaction in the way his eyes widened “Are you using that?” pointing at the container with sugar, you observed him a little longer.

Neil seemed less confident now. His tense posture and clenched jaw showed as much. Or the fact that suddenly he was not as eager to stare at you. Maybe that was a win. The only response you got was a head nod for ‘no’. But before you could celebrate the unlikely victory, he spoke again:

“Last time we talked, you said something a little different” there was that suspicious edge again.

You did not dare meet his eyes. The casual way in which he referred to the event made your blood boil. Because that was all the evidence you needed to confirm the worst-case assumptions: he did not care. To Neil, all this was a passing thing, something you can let go of when it becomes inconvenient. Trust you to give your heart to someone like that. The thought gave you an idea. What was said could not be unsaid, but…

“Yeah, but I thought about it, and... I take it back” once the words left your mouth, you felt a stronger surge of fury.

It only got worse when you caught a glimpse of hurt in the depths of his eyes. It was hidden well but still there.

“What?” Neil swallowed hard.

You could see that he did not expect that from you. Good. Perhaps it was a lie, but who was to say you had to be honest. After all, he was not, as it turned out. The look of confusion on his face made you turn up the emotions, throwing in irritability to the mix.

“I know you can be dense, but I’m sure you understood it well enough. I take back what I said in Tallinn” no effort was needed to be mean.

Just as easy as it was to lie. Perhaps too easy even. Out of curiosity, you watched him absorb what you said. At first, Neil’s lips parted a little as though he was holding in a gasp. Then he tensed, and eyebrows furrowed. That was denial. It was replaced with a painfully fake smile. One that did not reach his eyes. In summary, Neil did not seem relieved by what you said. Nor did he seem happy about it. Tough luck.

“Feelings change, huh?” nonchalantly he eyed you as though trying to find anything amiss.

The intensity of his gaze felt as though the fire was burning your skin. Suddenly the casual outfit seemed inadequate. Almost nonexistent in how he could see right through it. It took you a moment to shook it off. To remember that this was a duel, and you could still win. But only if you did not allow him to get too close.

“No. People do” you shrugged and went back to finishing the tea.

Just like that. A silence. And then the sound of a throat being cleared awkwardly:

“What are you trying to say?” unsure and shocked.

The metaphorical penny dropped. You could spare him the torture.

“You know,” putting away the teaspoon with a clink you eyed the toaster, “You might want to take that toast out unless you fancy eating carbon”

“Thanks,” Neil offered you a tight-lipped smile before he attended the burned toast.

You felt like that was the perfect metaphor for the state of your relationship. Or whatever the fuck was it. You were not sure what made you stay then. The walk back to your room did not seem convenient anymore. And the table was right there… It was rather risky, but then it was hard to deny yourself the pleasure. However questionable it may be. He was still your Neil, and his presence felt like the home you have desperately missed. Fortune favours the brave, or whatever. Ignoring his surprised look, you set down the plate and the mug and sat down at the narrow table. You did not have to wait long for a question:

“Do you mind if I stay?” the uncertainty in his voice made you look up.

Sure enough, the blue eyes were fixed on you with reluctance. As though he did not expect you to allow him that much. But then… why not? Perhaps it was the masochistic tendencies speaking.

“Suit yourself” you offered him the tiniest of smiles and focused on finally eating the carefully prepared sandwiches.

The ones you paid in blood and nerves for. At least they were good. After another moment, Neil joined, taking his seat opposite you. You could not help but snicker at the blackened toasts gracing his plate.

For a few minutes, you ate in silence, stealing glances at each other as though they were a crime. For you, they almost felt like it. His blonde hair (fake, as you had to remind yourself) reflected the fluorescents, giving him that angelic look that used to draw you in. It still did as much, only now it was paired with desperation everybody feels when faced with the unattainable. The forbidden fruit. Unable to stop yourself, you glanced at his lips then. The pull was still there, threatening to come crashing down and leave you gasping for air. But you could not give in.

“You saw us” as though Neil could read your mind, he spoke up, “Back at the airport, with Kat,” adding, he met your gaze.

You could tell that this was another attempt at small talk of sorts. You wondered how long this would take until another argument could begin to brew.

“Yeah,” nodding, you took a sip of the tea.

That was all he needed. The moment still sometimes haunted you. The look in his eyes when Neil saw you in Oslo. Now it all made more sense. The shock and apprehension. You were probably the last person he wanted to see back then. 

“Why you’ve never said anything?” the question took you by surprise.

Neil, of all people, should know better. You took a moment to gather the thoughts, staring back into those eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“I just followed your favourite logic” upon his confused expression, you explained, “What’s happened-”

“-Happened” he grinned; too proud “You know me well”

His hand that was resting by the mug twitched as though he wanted to reach out. You could not tear your eyes away from it, battling the most primal of instincts that just wanted to touch him. Ignoring the urge, you finished the tea and muttered the answer:

“I thought I do”

It was another of those things that were too easy to tell him. Even though you were being vulnerable through admitting it. Most rules were broken already.

“But?”

You stood up, avoiding the desire to look him in the eye. Anything to make this easier. Enough. You got what you wanted, but now it was time to leave. To cut this torture short for you both.

“If Tallinn taught me anything is that I don’t know you at all. Not the real you, anyway” you rinsed the dishes and moved to the door “Now, excuse me-”

Neil moved fast. Before you could realise he stood up, his hand was wrapped around your arm, making escape impossible. Bewildered by the feelings rushing in all at once, you met his eyes. Even through the two layers of clothing, his touch was burning you. A reminder of all that you have lost. The immeasurable depth of expression in Neil’s face was not helping. You could discern determination, worry, and panic, among others. As though only now he has realised the extent of the damage.

“I never lied to you. Not even once” his grip tightened as he took a step forward.

Your back hit the wall, trapping you between him and the cold metal.

“Should I congratulate you?” stifling the raising panic, you stared up at him with defiance.

It worked.

“…Jesus,” Neil swallowed hard, unable to hide the exasperation, “Why are you like this?”

With the newly found position, you could easily judge his state of mind. He was annoyed, angry even. And that was triggering. Even though the proximity was slowly hazing your mind, proposing scenarios that could never happen. Fuck. You took a deep breath to calm down. To ignore how it felt to have someone look at you like this. Not platonically.

“If you need to ask, I think there’s no point in dragging this conversation any longer” finding your voice again you made sure to turn up the notch “I’d rather go to sleep than get rejected again” the coldness came out of nowhere.

But it was helpful. He did not expect that. The hand on your arm relaxed a little.

“I never rejected you” crease between his eyebrows deepened.

Right. Unable to stop the rising bitterness, you scoffed in his face. This was the opportunity to win the battle and get away before you could fuck it up even worse.

“You’re right,” you relished in the utter confusion visible “You did something worse. But I’m really not in the mood to argue, so… please let me go” gingerly, you placed your hand on his chest with the intent to push him away.

That was another mistake. Neil covered your palm with his, making you shudder. That was enough to make everything worse. Because there was no way of stopping the thoughts. Of ignoring the want, you tried to suppress for the past week. With him this close, touching you as though he meant it, you soon realised how bad it was. There was no way of getting rid of the feelings.

“I’m worried about you. You don’t look well” he broke the tense silence, forcing you to look up.

As if. His face was too striking. With blood pounding in your ears, you made another attempt at freeing yourself by trying to push him away.

“I don’t need your sympathy” taking a step forwards you hoped he would back off.

He did not. The concern visible in his blue eyes was overwhelming any last bit of sanity. All that was left did not make any sense. For a second, you wanted nothing but to have an innocent passerby interrupt you. The embarrassment could be worth it.

“I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept in days. And I-”

Neil was too close. The hand that was wrapped around your arm slid down to your waist while the other wandered up, fingers ghosting your neck. You closed your eyes for a split second, calming down the racing thoughts. This could not happen.

“Neil, stop,” shaking off the paralysis, you cupped his cheek “You can’t help me. So, let’s just leave it,” pouring in all the despair into your gaze, you met his eyes.

What you saw reflected was startling. You have never seen him that confused.

“I…” he faltered, losing the momentum that was there a second ago.

You were winning. But there was no satisfaction. Just the overwhelming despair, tempting you to make use of the predicament. Just this once. It was too easy to let your fingers caress his jaw, feeling the two-day stubble he did not bother shaving off. The disorientation in his eyes deepened as he stared at you with amazement. Speechless, frozen in the moment that seemed endless. As you brushed the pad of your thumb over his lips, Neil inhaled sharply, waking up from the reverie. His grip on your waist tightened, drawing you even closer. The expression in his eyes shifted. Pupils darkened as want took over the reason. You could feel yourself slipping down the slippery slope. Risking too much for god knows what. Or why. The air he breathed out ghosted your lips, an offer of what you could have. The exact same thing you have missed more than anything else. As if guided by the gravity itself, you leaned in, your noses brushing. Mere two inches of space. It would be so easy…

“If you don’t love me, then what is this?” Neil asked, breaking the silence and putting on another enigmatic smile.

The audacity of the question felt like a punch in the gut. That was the harsh wake-up call. Your salvation.

“Whatever it was for you in Tallinn,” you bit back, letting the anger seep into your answer “Let me go” the ice-cold tone was a perfect touch.

Neil took one last long look over your face before he stepped back, releasing you. The visible disappointment made you even angrier. Because how did he dare? What even was this? You had no clue. Only that you were right about touches being forbidden from now on.

“As you wish,” the pleasantry was thrown in your face with a mocking intonation.

You wanted nothing but to slap him. Punch him, make him bleed and hurt like you were. But that would be unbecoming for someone like you. And so, you straightened your back, grabbed the mask, and fixed it over your mouth and nose without as much as a glance in his direction. Enough now.

“See you at the meeting tomorrow” throwing the goodbye over your shoulder you unzipped the airlock.

“Good night” was the last thing you heard upon the exit from the galley.

Jesus Christ. Finally, there was air to breathe.

*** That night you did not get much sleep either, tossing and turning on the narrow bed, unable to make your brain shut up. It was hard not to come up with all the possible what-ifs. Not to wonder what could have happened should Neil stayed silent, and you were to continue. To let yourself get lost in him like you used to. And all of those questions were only amplified by the fact that you chose to sleep in the stolen sweater. Why? You had no clue. Like many things, even your brain stopped making sense a long time ago. And so, when your phone alarm finally rang, you could only accept the fate and grudgingly get up. The dark circles were hard to hide. Or the way your shoulders sagged at the mere idea of facing everyone else. But there was no other way. You got dressed in the most practical outfit and left the cabin with the heart hammering in your chest. All the courage accepted. The mere idea of facing Neil made your stomach turn. That vouched for an amazing start indeed.

The official meeting was supposed to take place at 9:00 on the indoor bridge, and as far you knew the purpose was to officially brief you and the squad. You followed the half-remembered directions, by miracle arriving at the airlock leading to a lounge-like space with sofas, a table with ten chairs, and panoramic windows proving splendid view of the inverted waves and occasional seagulls. It seemed like you were the first one to arrive. Taking a longer look to stare at the horizon, you jumped up at the sound of a throat being cleared. Not alone then…

“Good morning” tall blonde woman stood up from her position on the sofa.

Kat. The drama of the previous night almost made you forget about her. But there is only so long you can run away from reality. The anxiety spike made you take a deep breath before you could respond.

“Hi,” frowning at the awkwardness of the tone, you flashed her an apologetic smile “Sorry to interrupt if you’ve-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she waved a hand dismissively and settled back on the cushions “I’ve just been watching the birds really. Still can’t get used to them” the thoughtful look in her eyes made you smile.

She could not be older than Neil. Tall and slender, dressed in practical military clothes as everyone else, she seemed so different from the woman you saw in Tallinn, bleeding and on the verge of death. Now there was steely confidence to her, intangible yet present. Tentatively, you joined her on the sofa, never taking your eyes off the horizon.

“It takes a while. The first time I got inverted, I panicked the moment I saw a pigeon flying backwards” you did not know where the honesty came from.

Or why you shared the story. But the bewildered smile that split Kat’s face was a good enough reward.

“That sounds horrendous” she choked back a laugh, meeting your gaze with sparkling blue eyes.

“It was cooing too” you added with the conspiratorial whisper, awaiting a response, barely concealing a giggle that was rising in your throat.

“Good God” she grinned in your direction.

Maybe there was some goodness in the universe…

“Yeah, basically” returning the smile, you reached out a hand “Sorry we’ve never got introduced, I’m Y/N”

“Kat” she shook your palm, smiling sympathetically “It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of the squad?”

“Well, sort of… I don’t really know what’s my role is in all this” shrugging helplessly, you allowed more honesty to permeate the sentence “But I’m too involved to ask questions”

“I know the feeling well” you knew the quiet resignation in her gaze from the reflection in the mirror.

As you opened your mouth to ask a question, a zip on the airlock made you freeze. Peace was not an available commodity these days.

“Good morning ladies” Neil’s voice rung out in the room as he stepped into the view.

The fake cheeriness looked out of place on his sombre face. After a quick scan, you could tell that he too has not slept well. And that he was trying his hardest to appear alright when he was everything but. A tell-tale sign was the untied shoelace and uncombed hair sticking out in every direction. Details easily missed by everyone but you. There was nothing you could do with that information. It felt like another tiny but painful stab straight into your battered heart. You did wonder how many more could you handle.

“Did you get a good rest?” Kat’s innocent question brought you back to the moment.

“Not quite” Neil grimaced slightly as his eyes slipped over onto you for a fraction of a second.

That was enough to make Kat notice. You were sure of it. Your cheeks reddened on their own accord, and you returned Neil’s tight-lipped smile. A finishing touch to the act.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening. Neil sat by the table, tapping his foot unconsciously. Kat seemed perplexed, glancing at you both, trying to understand. You would not even know how to explain it if she asked. Suddenly, a text alert pierced the silence, making you jump up. The device buzzed in the pocket of your pullover. With a shaking hand, you retrieved the phone and glanced at the display. TP.

“Fuck” you let out a curse as your eyes flitted over the text.

Passwords. To what? Hell knows.

“What is it?” Neil stood up and was at your side in a second.

You looked up, straight into his eyes. Whatever happened did not matter now. You both understood that.

“I don’t know…” biting down on your lip, you scanned the room, settling on a computer lying on the table, “Give me that laptop. Please” you gestured towards the device, urging him to catch up.

He did. Using those long legs that you always admired, he crossed the room in no time and handed you the laptop. Your hands were trembling as you typed in the passcodes and entered the folder where files from TP always appeared. It certainly did not help that Neil has perched on the armrest of the sofa and was looking over your shoulder. Or that his hand landed on the nape of your neck as he adjusted in the strange position. You swallowed hard, focused on finding the newest folder. Surely enough it was there. Password protected. You typed in the combination of letters and numbers from the text message and held your breath as the system loaded. A second later, you were staring at several files that appeared on the screen. Double-clicking on the first pdf, you opened up a map of a location.

“Is that…” Neil’s whisper came from right over your ear.

Breath ghosting over your neck, making you shiver. But there were more important matters to attend to. Shaking off the feeling, your eyes scanned the map.

“Stalsk-12” you read out loud, “I think this is our destination. TP sent those so we know what to expect” looking at Neil again, you were struck by the proximity.

He nodded, holding your gaze intently. You could see that he was processing what you said and all the implications. What the unexpected files could mean for you. And what were the critical steps to be taken.

“What do you mean he sent those? He’s-” Kat’s confused question made you both snap out of it.

It was terrifyingly easy to forget people other than Neil existed. Another issue to add to your list.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t explain it” you gave Kat the most regretful of smiles and opened a different file.

This one was a list of tips in a way. A short letter with instructions, addressed to you alone. Aware of the tension pervading the room, you scanned it, catching onto the things he mentioned. A tunnel leading to the dead-drop. Hypocenter in the middle of the Soviet secret city. Inverted and normal mercenaries. It sounded like something taken out of an action film. But, supposedly, that was your reality now.

“Anything good?” Neil chimed in, unable to control the anticipation.

You glanced at him again, catching the way he was staring at you rather than at the screen. The way the early morning sun reflected off his profile was tragic. The hair shone like rays of sunlight. The long eyelashes framed his eyes, making the blue stand out even more. Fucking masterpiece. He met your gaze warily, and his brows furrowed even more. That was the cue to answer his question. And to stop staring.

“He’s saying that the most crucial bit will be the lock leading to the dead-drop,” you explained, highlighting the line in the doc “And is sending you his regards,” adding, you gave Neil a small smile.

They were there alright. A final line, telling you to make sure he stays sane and alive. Worrying remark, but you were afraid the boss miscalculated your influence upon the blonde bastard. Maybe he was wrong about some things? Just as the man in question opened his mouth again, someone else entered the bridge, accompanied by the sound of heavy boots and puffs of air from the oxygen masks.

“Who’s saying what?” TP’s question made you frown as the man himself stepped into the room.

Of course, he’d hear that. Now came the dilemma you never knew you would have to face – how to tell your boss you have received information from his future, dead self? And how to make him believe you?

“We’ve got intel. About where we’re heading,” you were saved from answering the question by Neil, who stood up and faced the boss “It’s Siberia, isn’t it?”

Judging by the palpable shock and irritation on TP’s face, it was, in fact, Siberia.

“Who told you that?” the offensive edge to his voice felt like a flashback to Tallinn and the turnstile.

You would rather avoid a repetition of that. Standing up, you took a deep breath. Before anyone else could break-in, you spoke up:

“A very reliable source” when TP’s gaze settled on you, you shrugged.

Quiet confidence, right? A passing shadow of suspicion was not the most encouraging of signs.

“Reliable to who?” his gaze flitted between you and Neil.

Only now you realised how close you were standing to him. Your elbows brushed as you tried to think of an answer. Anything to win the case.

“All of us” Neil’s simple response made you look up at him.

His gaze was fixed on TP with adamant resolve. You felt like this was not the same man who had let his friend pin him to the wall and interrogate him in the most brutal of fashions. The boss sighed and looked at you again.

“How did you get it?”

Right…

“… password protected files” the half-truth felt like the worst of lies.

“From whom?” he pressed, all of the intensity of the dark stare on you.

You could only offer him another shrug and a remorseful look on your face. The scowl you got in response was concerning. But you could not give in.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the best piece of information we could get. We’ve got terrain plans and intel about the dead-drop. Maybe with this, we can make it work” taking a step forwards, you hoped he can see the desperation in your eyes, “All you have to do is trust me” the addition felt necessary, even if hard to be spoken out loud.

The frown on TP’s face deepened as he sighed heavily.

“Bloody hell…” he glanced at the blonde man again, “Neil, what are you thinking?”

Only now you could feel how fast your heart has been beating. Or that sometime within the last few minutes, you have started to tremble.

“I trust her. With my life” Neil delivered the admission with the most neutral of tones.

Fuck. The heartbeat stumbled and then kicked back into action at twice the speed. Unable to stop yourself, you turned around to face him. Sure enough, he met your gaze with certainty. As though that was obvious. Well, maybe to him…

“And the fate of the world too,” he added after a beat, clearly highlighting what mattered more.

Another thing that did not make sense. You made sure he could see the confusion in your eyes as you gave him a formal nod. It was a public setting after all, and you need not make a scene in front of Kat and TP.  But at least you had support in your fight, and that was perhaps most important right now.

“This intel is all we’ve got. We might as well make use of it,” Neil summarized, taking that step closer to you again.

You both faced the boss, taking concerning amounts of confidence from simply being able to do it together. You could see the internal battle on TP’s face. Worry, uncertainty, suspicion, conflict, trust…? Finally, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he looked at you again, you could tell that it was done. Only…

“If it backfires…” the unspoken hint of consequences if something went terribly wrong.

You just had to make sure it would not. Easy enough…right?

“If it does, then we’ll worry. For now, let’s get to work” Neil waved his hand dismissively, a rare genuine smile brightening up his face “The stage is yours,” tentatively, he placed his hand on your back, giving you a light push.

Permission to take over. Support and the inability to keep his hands off you. Enough to make you consider jumping off the afterdeck into the freezing depths of the Barents Sea. Because even that was better than approximately a week more of this. But the seals would have to wait. The blue eyes were fixed on you with a glimmer that seemed too affectionate for the state of the affairs. Let’s wipe it off with the best weapon available – the crushing weight of reality. You took a deep breath and began the explanation.

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Six)

Summary: (Y/N) and the others successfully abduct a high-level Hydra operative, who provides them with information on Hydra’s bone-chilling plan.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief description of a panic attack

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Six (Previous Chapter)

“How in the hell did you come up with this plan?”

(Y/N) and Natasha were using binoculars to stare out the window of an abandoned apartment at a small courtyard situated between a tall building and a crowded outdoor café, where Sam was currently sitting and enjoying an iced tea; Steve was sitting in Sam’s car and parked around the corner, at the ready just in case the plan didn’t work. Once (Y/N) told the others her plan to abduct Sitwell and they’d taken a quick trip to Fort Meade for the EXO-7 Falcon pack, Natasha had hacked into the Hydra operative’s digital planner; she discovered in his itinerary that he’d be in a meeting with Senator Stern all morning in the building across the street, and then she’d managed to remotely clone Director Pierce’s cell phone.

Glancing away from her binoculars, (Y/N) flashed Natasha a bright smile. “It wasn’t that hard; part of it’s from a scene in my novel, actually. This is how Amelia – she’s the main character, by the way – tricks an enemy agent into giving her important information on her case.” She pulled the laser pointer integral to their plan out of her pocket and twirled it around her fingers. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“You’re in the wrong line of work, (Y/L/N). You’d make a good spy.”

(Y/N) chuckled bashfully and turned back to her binoculars. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to writing. Less of a risk of being shot at, you know.”

“Well, not many writers would just up and volunteer to try and take down a covert terrorist organization.” Although she said it in an off-hand manner, (Y/N) could tell that Natasha was genuinely curious about her off-the-cuff decision.

“I’m not usually an impulsive person, but what I said earlier was true: I have no right to do any less than what the three of you are doing. I won’t sit by and watch as Hydra destroys everything we know, especially knowing that there are ways I could help stop them. Besides, Sam and I are a team, have been for over a year now. I can’t let my best friend put himself in danger without being by his side.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at herself and gave the spy an embarrassed smile. “But please don’t tell him I said that, Nat, it would only inflate his already-enormous ego.”

“Secret’s safe with me, hot-shot.” Natasha paused for a moment. “You remind me a lot of Rogers. To tell you the truth, I think that’s half the reason why he let you onto the team.”

(Y/N) frowned at her comment, her eyes still looking through her binoculars. “What’s the other half-?” Just then, a group of men walked out of the building across the street. “Wait, is that Sitwell?”

Natasha looked through her own binoculars and nodded. “Yeah, the bald guy with the glasses.” She quickly set down the binoculars and typed out a quick text on her phone. “Time to see if your plan works, 007.”

Through the binoculars, (Y/N) saw Sam glance down at his phone and dial a number from his seat at the café. The group of men headed towards the parking lot, leaving Sitwell alone on the building’s steps. (Y/N) smiled to herself as she watched him pull out his phone and press it to his ear; he became skittish as he listened to Sam talk. Watching Sitwell’s lips, she carefully aimed her laser pointer and pressed the button just as he asked, “And why would I do that?”

She let out a triumphant laugh when Sitwell glanced at the red light on his tie and looked around in fear before hanging up the phone and walking towards Sam. “Yes!” She punched the air and put down her laser pointer and binoculars. “Dynamite with a laser beam!”

“‘Killer Queen,’ yeah?” Natasha grinned and nodded appreciatively. “Steve was right, you’ve got a great taste in music. C’mon, we’d better head down to the car…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Steve was throwing Sitwell across the rooftop of an apartment building; Natasha strode confidently after him, and (Y/N) tried her best to hide her unease as she trailed behind them. Although she’d thoroughly researched torture methods for her novel, she wasn’t quite sure she could stomach seeing them performed in real life. Stay calm, Captain America wouldn’t do those things to someone else, she thought to herself, fiddling with the edge of her grey leather jacket, although he did mention that they might do that one thing if Sitwell doesn’t talk. She looked up from her combat boots in time to see Steve say, “Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?”

“I was throwing up, I get seasick.” Steve grabbed Sitwell roughly by the collar and forced him to the edge of the rooftop, but the man only smiled condescendingly up at the super-soldier. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Because that’s not really your style, Rogers.”

(Y/N) couldn’t see Steve’s face, but she assumed that he was smiling as he smoothed out the crumpled lapels of Sitwell’s jacket. “You’re right. It’s not. It’s hers.” After quickly stepping aside, Steve watched calmly as Natasha kicked Sitwell directly in the chest and he toppled off the roof, screaming the whole way down. Despite (Y/N) knowing what their plan was, she still felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably as the man’s screams grew fainter the longer he fell; she’d never mentioned her extreme fear of heights to any of them, but in that moment she wished she had.

Natasha turned to Steve. “Oh wait, what about that girl from Accounting, Laura…?”

“Lilian. Lip piercing, right?”

“Yeah, she’s cute.”

Steve shook his head and looked down. “Yeah, I’m not ready for that.”

(Y/N)’s confusion and slight jealousy at their conversation shifted to awe as Sam suddenly flew up and threw Sitwell back onto the roof while he landed gracefully on his feet. (Y/N) rolled her eyes in amusement as her best friend flashed her a wink, his wings quickly folding back into his pack as he approached them.

Sitwell, no longer composed and condescending, was shaking with fear on the rooftop as he held his hands up. “Zola’s algorithm is a program for choosing Insight’s targets!”

“What targets?” (Y/N) asked, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

To her surprise, Sitwell sneered. “And who the hell are you? The personal assistant?”

Steve grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and squeezed until he began wincing. “What targets?”

“You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, a first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C…” Everyone’s eyes snapped to (Y/N)’s, and she could feel the blood leaving her face as she fully registered his words. “Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to Hydra! Now, or in the future.”

Natasha, her face grim, drew closer to Sitwell. “The future? How could it know?”

“How could it not? The twenty-first century is a digital book. Zola taught Hydra how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to predict their future.”

“And what then?”

Sitwell rubbed his temple agitatedly. “Oh my God, Pierce is gonna kill me.”

Steve shook him again. “What then?”

“…then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time.”

A heavy silence hung over the group as they all absorbed what Sitwell had said; millions of people around the world are going to be killed by Hydra if we don’t stop them, (Y/N) realized in horror. She tried to avoid thinking about it, but she couldn’t help but replay Sitwell’s words over and over in her head: A first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C., a first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C., a first-time novelist writing about the Cold War in D.C…

“Okay, time to head out.” After yanking Sitwell roughly to his feet, Steve turned to Natasha and Sam. “You two mind escorting him back to the car?”

“’Course not, Cap,” Natasha smirked as she and Sam grabbed Sitwell’s arms and dragged him towards the rooftop doorway, Sam throwing a concerned glance at (Y/N) as he went.

“You okay, (Y/N)?”

As Steve’s words left his mouth, (Y/N) registered the ringing in her ears and that she was taking rapid and shallow breaths; her heart hammered in her chest and through her clouded vision, she could barely make out Steve’s worried face right before her. “Can’t…can’t breathe…”

“Okay, it’s okay, um, here,” Stepping forward, he reached for her hand but stopped himself short. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” (Y/N) gave a short nod and he took her hand, gently placing her palm against his chest so she could feel his strong heartbeat. “You’re okay, just try and slow your heartbeat to match mine. Can you do that for me? Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, like this.” He began doing the breathing exercise, and she shakily began copying him. “You’re doing great, (Y/N), just keep breathing.” To her surprise, he stopped the breathing exercise and began quietly humming a familiar tune; it was so faint beneath the dim ringing in her ears that she could’ve dismissed it as her mind tricking her if not for the feeling of reverberation in his chest. (Y/N) gradually felt her body responding positively; her breathing began to even out and as her heartbeat returned to normal, her vision cleared and the ringing faded away into nothing.

Once his humming came to an end, she looked up at him with an insecure smile. “‘Smoke Gets In Your Eyes,’ The Platters. Thank you. I-I don’t know what came over me, I was fine until…well, you know. All at once, everything suddenly became very…real for me.”

Steve nodded solemnly. “No one will think any less of you if you decide to go home. You’ll be safer, and-”

“No, no way.” She firmly shook her head, her mouth set in a determined line. “I’m staying. Just because I found out I’m a possible Insight target and had a panic attack doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly okay with sitting back while Hydra plans to kill millions; if anything, I’m even more invested in this fight than I was before.” She felt the corners of her mouth lift into a smirk. “If you’re trying to get rid of me, Rogers, then you’re going to have to try a little harder than that.”

When she finally stopped talking, she registered something akin to admiration in Steve’s small smile, and she willed herself not to blush. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few more moments, and that’s when (Y/N) realized that one of Steve’s hands was still resting on her waist and the other was gently holding her hand against his chest, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles over her knuckles.

Steve seemed to realize the same thing because a moment later, he quickly let go of her and took a couple of steps back. With a pinkish tint to his cheeks, he glanced toward the rooftop doorway and replied, “Well, if you’re sure that you’re okay then let’s go. We’ve got a launch to stop.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy! 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117​ @cminr​ @momc95​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @khuang3​ @supersouthy​ @benakenalove​ @brooke0297​ @hufflepeople​ @becausewelie​​ @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum​

Chapter Seven

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

[hopetofantasy]

‘HUMO’s big youth survey - Politics, society and religion’ - With Nora Dari (part 1)

- TW: corona pandemic, mental health, sickness, religion, islamophobia, racism, cancel culture -

Who better to test out the results of HUMO’s brand new ‘youth survey’ than a trio of three young gods? Bouba Kalala (23) made the switch between ‘Studio Brussel’ and the social media-team of the ‘SP.A’ - sorry, ‘Vooruit’. Céleste Cockmartin (21), daughter of sexologist and politician Goedele Liekens, just started her third year of neuropsychology in Maastricht. Nora Dari (19) portrays the beautiful Yasmina in the wildly popular ‘wtFOCK’. ‘If we don’t rise up to the streets, a lot of things will remain the same.’

- Note from hopetofantasy: ‘SP.A’, soon to be rebranded as ‘Vooruit’, is a social democratic political party -

For the past quarter of the century, HUMO surveyed every new batch of youngsters, but never before did we had to include a pandemic in our questionnaire. It’s a first! And even though the youth isn’t the most popular target of the virus, they’ll emerge from the corona crisis with scars on them too.

Half of young people thinks life will never return to what it was before. The girls are even more pessimistic than the boys. Nora Dari: “I wouldn’t call us pessimistic: we weren’t on the right track at all. This is one big wake-up call. I’ve never felt as alone yet together as during lockdown. On social media, we were already used to our own bubble. Then suddenly, all these bubbles began to look the same and everyone kept talking about the same thing.”

Bouba Kalala: “For one moment, the crisis showed us how good the world could be. I even started to cry at the drone images of VTM. I think we’ll bring that unity with us to the post-corona era.” Nora Dari: “When my mom stepped on the bus with her hijab before this, she would have gotten the side-eye. Now people scowl at those without mouth-masks. Weird how fast everything can change.” Bouba Kalala: “My grandpa experienced the war, we lived through a pandemic. Shit happens. When the Germans threw bombs on England, everyone re-emerged after the bombardments, re-opened their shops and even made jokes about it - ‘Everything at explosive prices!’. That’s what we should do now: we have to take corona seriously and follow the measures, but being scared won’t help us more forward.”

Do young people have to give up too much, because of the corona crisis? Almost one out of three think they do. Céleste Cockmartin: “I don’t have the feeling I’m giving up on a lot. But young people really do try and avoid infecting the elderly. When I’m in Maastricht and only see my peers for weeks at a time, then I’ll be less restrained. But when visiting my parents, I’m very careful. It’s just a matter of not being selfish. What’s so difficult about wearing a mask and disinfecting your hands?” Nora Dari: “Quite a lot of people don’t believe in masks.” Bouba Kalala: “Really? I don’t know anyone who dismisses the rules and says: ‘I’m going to go anywhere and do what I want.’ But those that do, get a story in the news. As if every young person doesn’t give a fuck.” You do? Bouba Kalala: “I have to: my grandpa who’s 84, is staying with us. I did sin once, though. Going to a friend’s house for some drinks, other friends come over and suddenly you’re with ten people.” Nora Dari: “I’ve had corona and I was scared to death that I’d infect my parents. So I locked myself up in my bedroom for two weeks.” Céleste Cockmartin: “Seriously? I wouldn't be able to handle it mentally if I couldn't go out.” Nora Dari: “But I was incredibly sick, so the solitary confinement didn’t bother me. I’ve binged all there was to binge on Netflix.” Bouba Kalala: “And your sense of smell and taste?” Nora Dari: “Still gone! I can’t taste anything. Us, Moroccans, drink mint tea every day. Now, a month later, it still tastes like water.” Did the virus change you? Nora Dari: “I’m pretty religious. Corona has given me even more the understanding that everything is in God’s hands.” Faith is on the rise again: the number of young people claiming they’re atheist or non-religious declined from 50 to 41 percent. Céleste Cockmartin: “Everyone is looking for meaning and answers. I search these answers in science.” Bouba Kalala: “For me, science and God have the same worth. Believers can’t prove there is something, but science can’t disprove it either.” You believe there’s something? Bouba Kalala: “Yes, but what? I believe in the universe, the force of attraction, the power of positive thinking... I don’t want to sound too much like a hippie, but I also believe in the paranormal and UFOs. (*Céleste and Nora laugh out loud*) What? UFOs are my hobby. Even the American army admits there is something, so there must be something (*laughs*).” Nora Dari: “I often hear it: young people believe in something, but they don’t know (yet) in what they believe.” It’s all clear to you. Nora Dari: “Yes. I’m lucky to be born in a muslim family, but even then, there’s a moment where you think: is this the religion that really defines me? I’ve done research and began reading books, but my heart truly connected with the Islam. It feels like true love.” Céleste Cockmartin: “I can be jealous about that. I think it’s a shame sometimes, that I don’t have that faith. It seems to be a good solace during the hard times. For a lot of people, faith isn’t much more than a form of meditation.” Bouba Kalala: “The grandma from a friend of mine passed away recently. I found it hard to comfort her. I don’t have that issue with my Moroccan or Turkish friends, because we know she’s with God. The idea that she isn’t gone, brings peace.” In 2015, when we were still discussing the imminent terror attacks, 9 percent called themselves muslim. Now it’s 17 percent. Nora Dari: “I think it’s related to the terrorists. Because of them, muslims and non-muslims started asking questions about Islam. People studied the religion and concluded that it’s actually really beautiful.” When you were 13, you wore a hijab for a while. Nora Dari: “As a young girl, I often visited the community center in Winterslag. It closed down by the time I went to high school. From a tiny school with only two Belgians without an immigration background, to a school with a handful of muslims. Suddenly the world seemed bigger. I needed something familiar, something I could join and where I felt included. That was the Islam. After two years, I realized that my choice to wear the hijab, was too hasty. I wore it so I wouldn’t feel alone, but when I got older, I understood: I’m not alone. With or without hijab, God’s always with me.” Will you wear it again some day? Nora Dari: “I hope so. If someone asks me why I don’t wear it, I don’t have an excuse. It’s something so beautiful. Yet, right now, it doesn’t feel as if it’s something I need to do.”  Do you feel, as a muslim, that you’re less of a target than a few years ago? Nora Dari: “Yes. That’s connected with the trend of being woke, being aware of everything and refusing to think anything is bad. Due to this, a lot of youngsters are becoming less critical. Which is a shame.” And here I thought, young people were only positive about being woke? Nora Dari: “But what is the meaning of ‘being woke’?” I was hoping you could tell me. Nora Dari: “No one knows. Everyone pretends to know (*laughs*).” Bouba Kalala: “That’s being woke, I think: not knowing everything, stop pretending like you have all the answers.” Nora Dari: “You know what bothers me? That we live in such a cancel culture. One bad tweet and you’re cancelled for life. There’s nothing woke about that?” Bouba Kalala: “Without social media, we wouldn’t have cancel culture: every brain fart continues to exist on the internet. Years later, someone will dig up a wrong statement and use it to take you down.” Nora Dari: “Young people would do well, if they followed the people they don’t agree with on social media.” Bouba Kalala: “Yes!” Nora Dari: “If I'd follow Dries Van Langenhove (= extreme right politician / activist) tomorrow, my followers would throw a fit: ‘Do you agree with him?’ No, the exact opposite! But how can I understand how he thinks, if I don’t follow him? If I only followed people whom I agree with, I’ll get tangled up into my own truths. The world doesn’t stop with my own Insta page.” Céleste Cockmartin: “That’s being woke: talking with your opponents. I once started a conversation with Dries Van Langenhove. I ran into him in Ghent, at the time of the ‘Schild & Vrienden’ TV report. I had to know: what’s the deal with that group? Unfortunately the conversation wasn’t very clear - it was the nightlife neighborhood. But I’ll stick with my statement: start a conversation with dissendents.” And the youth of today doesn’t do that? Nora Dari: “Not at all. We rather cancel each other.” Bouba Kalala: “I already know that I’ll get racist bullshit hurled at me after this interview. I've learned not to care. Hate posts are good for my algorithm.” You don’t reply to them? Bouba Kalala: “I do, every time. One time, I argued for hours with someone who sent a racist tweet. I kept going: ‘Why do you say that, Arno? Do you realize this hurts?’. In the end, he even thanked me. I went to my mom, showed her the conversation and we’ve high-fived each other. I know that Arno will vote for Vlaams Belang (= extreme right political party) again, but he did say ‘thank you’, while he started with that sick tweet.”

[pluviophile-bookworm]

I feel like I need to talk about this...

I’m very open about being aroace. At least here on Tumblr I am. (Outside of Tumblr, I am technically out, but some issues with my mother and grandmother have forced me back into the closet. I felt miserable about that initially, but I’m learning to be fine with it.) But it wasn’t always this way. In fact, I didn’t even know what aroace meant until I was 18. So how was I supposed to know when I got my first ‘celebrity crush’ that those last words do not, in fact, describe very accurately what I was experiencing? I didn’t know I had ADHD, either. I feel like that might have helped me realise some things about my experience. But let me go back a bit and actually tell you what happened and how it happened. [side note: I’ll be starting from a bit earlier than the ‘crush’ thing happened because I feel like it’s important for whoever reads this to understand how my circumstances shaped the experience I had]

Backstory:

I had always been different from my peers, so it was not surprising to anyone that I was bullied in middle school. [side note: Judging from my and my little brother’s combined experience, I feel like bullying is, quite unfortunately, something of a universal experience in middle school - in my day, I was on the receiving end. This last school year, my brother was the bully. Gosh, I wish I could tell my story without many deviations and without crying as I type, but I’ve already thrown both of those intentions out the window.]

So anyway, things got so bad that I was driven to suicidal thoughts. One night I was just lying in bed, thinking about going through with it, but I was like, well, I’ve got a test in the morning. Maybe after that. 13-year-old me had very weird priorities. I kind of still value my work over my mental health, but I’m working on it. So that night, I didn’t do anything. The next day, right before school, I was on the internet and I found out a new show had premiered. And then, as I was watching the pilot episode, that was when it happened. I saw this boy, whom I will not be naming, and I listened to him sing. I felt nothing much at the moment, but I couldn’t get the song out of my mind all day. Up until that moment, I had had a weird attitude towards music where I’d only listen to female singers. My ‘boys have cooties’ phase, I guess you could say. But this one, he was the first one I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I felt like I could listen to his voice 24/7. I’ve had that feeling hundreds of times by now, but I hadn’t before then. So I figured, this must be what a crush means, right? This must be what all my peers are talking about. The next day, I confided in a girl from my class with whom I was kind of friendly (though not actual friends, I’d say). I asked her if she’d seen the show, if she knew this person. She said yes and we kind of gushed about the song together, and I felt normal for a couple of minutes. I never knew the difference between my experience and what is considered ‘normal’ until years later.

For the time being, the thought of this special person was what was keeping me alive. I started having visions of him walking with me through the school hallways or sitting next to me on the bus home from school. I knew perfectly well those visions weren’t real, but they made me feel better. Happy. Safe. Seen. Full disclosure: I still have such visions, I’ve had them with different people through the years as my hyperfixations change. My latest one is what has enabled me to deal with some of my worst phobias (and I have a long list of them). I’ve never told anybody what it is, and I won’t be telling because I feel like if I do tell, the vision will not be strong enough to work against my fears. But I’m getting sidetracked again. Sorry for that.

So, I was pretty much obsessed with this guy. He was all I could think about, he was keeping me alive through what was possibly the toughest time in my life to date. So naturally, thanks to my heteronormative, amatonormative surroundings, I was convinced I had a crush on him. In fact, after this experience had lasted about a year, I was sure I was in love. 

Then things changed. I started high school. I found a couple of friends, and the people in my class in general made me feel like I could finally be myself. Be open about what I thought and how I felt. So by the end of the first semester, all 27 people in my class knew about my feelings for this guy. What I didn’t know was that they didn’t know that it wasn’t exactly like I was describing it. Because I wasn’t aware that a straight/ allo person’s idea of being ‘in love’ was different from mine. I was just putting things in words I thought I understood. 

So it came as a total surprise when some people from my class started teasing me about it. It wasn’t malicious teasing, that much I could tell. I had been bullied mercilessly before. What my new classmates were doing was asking genuine questions in a slightly teasing manner. For example, it would be known that my special person had a girlfriend, and so they’d ask me ‘aren’t you jealous’ or ‘do you wish you were that’, or stuff like that. And those questions felt so weird. So stupid. I thought, wait, why would I be jealous? Why would I feel bad about this person who has made me so happy, being happy himself? Why would I want to date him? That had nothing to do with how I felt. I told my classmates so. They gave me weird looks in response. So I started feeling like there was something wrong with me. Like I wasn’t doing that ‘in love’ thing right. Suddenly, I felt like my feelings were being intruded upon. Tarnished, somehow. I had always been aware that my visions were anything but real. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. And all of a sudden, somebody was suggesting that I should want to date this person. Why would I want to date anyone, I thought? Even if it was him. Dating people was awkward. Making physical contact with anyone outside my immediate family made me shudder. It still does, though I can hug some of my closest friends without any negative feelings. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to my first time I questioned my experience. I was about 14 at the time (in Bulgaria, high school starts from grade 8, ages 13-14 or 14-15), and, well, I didn’t do much questioning at the time. I just told myself that they didn’t understand my feelings, and I stopped being so open about the topic. 

My hyperfixation on this person lasted long. Longer than any other I’ve ever had to date. Maybe it was because I clung to it like it was what tethered me to my mortal life. But by my final year of high school, I could feel it fading away. I was forcing myself to think about this person, to conjure up the old visions; the song that had started it all was drained of all meaning that it had held for me. I was moving on to other hyperfixations. I felt like I was betraying myself, like I was breaking some sort of unbreakable vow. It was time to face the music. So I let go. I allowed myself to move on. It was kind of made easier by the fact that my special person had changed, too, and had moved on to projects that I could not enjoy due to some triggering content. And I moved on.

Then I joined Tumblr. I discovered some things. Among them was Hellenic polytheism. It had been a while since I’d found my faith in the Hellenic pantheon, but Tumblr was where I found out I was not alone, that there was an existent religion. And step by step, I realised that... I had been projecting Apollo’s presence onto my special person. And my old connection to that person had started fading away when I had realised I believed in the gods.

This explained a lot of things. But there was still the fact that I had never been able to look at another person the way my peers were looking at each other. I had been asked out two or three times during high school. I had rejected those people without even thinking about it. My best friend at the time was a boy and most teachers seemed to ship us together because, well, let’s be real - we were constantly fighting like an old married couple. It took him getting a girlfriend and seeing how happy I was for the two of them for everyone to realise that things between us were, and had always been, purely platonic. And now I was going to uni and I had never had feelings I was apparently supposed to have. 

It was also thanks to Tumblr that I discovered the extent of the LGBTQ+ community. I considered myself an ally at first, and I was a passionate ally, too. I still am nothing but supportive to my fellow LGBTQ+ people of all identities, but it was not until I was 18 going on 19 that I discovered the term ‘asexual’. I knew quite suddenly that this was the term for me. I knew what I was and how I felt. I felt mature enough to know the difference between ‘I’m not experienced enough to know for sure’ and ‘I’ve just never had those feelings, I don’t even know what they’re supposed to be like’. It took a bit longer to find out there was a difference between sexual and romantic attraction, but by the time I was 19, I had proudly labelled myself ‘aroace’. I still feel at home with this label. I am completely open to the possibility that it might change with time, but this is what feels right at this time. 

Fast-forward another couple of years to about 8 months ago. I had always known that I got really invested into stuff - shows, books, hobbies, people - only for that investment to wear off after a time. The timespans varied, but I realised I had experienced this ever since I was in pre-school at least. I didn’t have a term for it, though. And then, all of a sudden, Tumblr started offering me posts tagged ADHD. I could relate to maybe 95% of them. At one point, it felt like whatever algorithm this hellsite operates on was shoving the ADHD posts in my face, as if screaming ‘DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF, WELL, YOU?!!!’ in my ears. So I did some tests. I did a lot of self-reflection. I went to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed in March. I started educating myself on the terminology and found out that what I was experiencing is called hyperfixating. So here I am now.

Here I am now, reflecting back on my experience from 8 years ago, connecting the dots. Realising what it was that I went through, allowing myself to go through it again, with different things and people. I don’t feel the need to cling to hyperfixations anymore because I know that is what they are and I know I can’t keep them forever. Of course, I do feel bad about stopping caring about something that used to be my light and life for a time. I dread the time I’ll get over my current hyperfixation, but I also know it’s inevitable. My ADHD brain needs the change and it happens naturally. And somehow I’m ok with that.

Well, this is it. This is the story of how Tumblr prompted me to discover aspects of myself that have been there for as long as I can remember. What better place to talk about it than Tumblr itself? What better group of people to understand and accept me than my lovely mutuals and followers? If you’re reading this, thank you. For being here, for listening to me, for allowing me to be who I am. You’ve got no idea how happy this makes me, even though I can barely see what I’m typing through the tears. Thank you. 

[angelwars11]

Title: What would you do if you had more time?

Prompt: Clock

Pairing: Codex

Rating: T

Word count: 6k

‘Time. What is time? Time is an ugly storm in which we are all lost. Time is when your children grow from young to old. When a seed grows into a tree. When things change from new to unusable. When people marry and divorce. When birth becomes death. When seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years go by without stopping. You can’t stop time. It’s simply impossible.’

—

‘Time is running out for all of us. But if you give a little nudge, a little push against the clock’s hands; then maybe, just maybe, you possess enough strength and determination to push time back.’ -By Me (Beta/Angel)

This is day 4 of the ClonecestInJuly challenge! I finished this prompt a week ago and the editing was finished last night, the beta reading was finalized today. Now this one is very angsty, sad, and is also said to be a tear-jerker, and I quote, “Oh thank god, that got me all teary-eyed.” by my marvelous beta reader @gimmeclones. It’s also edited by my fabulous revisor, @blazesurrender! Thank you darlings!! P.S. the flower’s symbolism in this story is Hope.

Who’s ready to cry and hug a pillow close to their chest? Who’s ready to want to hug the characters really hard? If you are ready, please, press the ‘keep reading’ link. Enjoy!!

*Warning: Pretty angsty! If you aren’t into angst, then please don’t read! Also, you will cry so grab a tissue box.

Time. What is time? Time is an ugly storm in which we are all lost. Time is when your children grow from young to old. When a seed grows into a tree. When things change from new to unusable. When people marry and divorce. When birth becomes death. When seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years go by without stopping. You can’t stop time. It’s simply impossible.

Some people waste their time away by doing unremarkable or unimportant things that won’t help them in the long run. Then, once they even waste it away, they can’t do anything about it. 

The elderly, who’ve lived their lives to the very end, will tell you one thing:

“Time is valuable, and when it is gone, it’s gone. Time is wealth, and unlike credits, when it is gone, you cannot replace it.”

You may think that time is invisible to the naked eye, but no, it’s not. Actually, you can see it right there in front of you above every person’s head like a marker. Marking. Or target them for an inevitable change. 

Death. 

Numbers, colored in neon glowing colors would float above your head since the time you were born; and they only change from green to red when you are approaching your end. Everyone has this. Not one person has never been born without it. An ugly and scarily real reminder of what is to come if you are not careful. 

The scary thing about it is that you can stop what’s coming. Only fate has your life in its hands. Would you trust in fate? It could change directions if you chose a different path. Could that path lead you right to your death? Could your decision be right—or very wrong and lead you to your undoing? 

Rex has never known what to do about fate because he can’t do anything about it; not that he knows of. These glow green numbers have floated above his head for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t touch these numbers. His hands went right through them. 

The green would pixelate and float away. Then they’ll come back at some point. You touching your own numbers wouldn’t affect your time or you, it just makes the numbers dissolve and at some point it’ll bounce back. 

Rex’s numbers say exactly: 60:12:20:18

He has exactly 60 years, 12 months, 20 minutes, and 18 seconds until he dies. Rex is unbelievably surprised by this amount of years he has. First of all, all clones barely have time on their hands; or more like on their heads. Seriously! Some clones have mere minutes or hours until they die and it’s really unnerving to know that you are about to die on your next mission someplace and you don’t even know HOW you’ll die. 

Rex stares at the numbers over his head for a long time. They continue to count down every second. He shakes his head and sighs. What can I do about it? Fate is unclear sometimes. At one point, Rex’s number specifically said 01:36:18:01 till he died, and that was before the battle of Geonosis—the first battle of the Clone Wars when clone troopers were introduced. Rex actually believed he was going to die that day, but something changed it; somehow he changed it. 

A plasma grenade landed in the sand in front of him and his numbers stuttered. He remembers this so vividly. Then Rex ran in the opposite direction and the blast sent him flying forward. He woke up dazed, confused, and dizzy most of all. Rex forced himself to stand and continue fighting but he didn’t realize his number got knocked all the way back to 02:03:60:59. 

Two years! Rex thought about it. What if we can change our path and divert to another path away from death itself? He dismissed these crazy thoughts and called them childish or far-fetched fantasies that simply couldn’t come true. That all changed once Rex was sent to Teth and his numbers dropped; they were falling—and falling fast. 

Ventress took hold of him, attempting to use the force to make him comm his General, but Rex fought her control long enough to say his General’s first name, Anakin, and that alone improved his numbers. Ventress left him against the wall. His numbers rose to 03:08:60:59.

At the time, Rex had no idea how he got his time all the way up to 50 years! But he did somehow after spending many long days and hourless nights thinking, and he finally perceived the truth. I can change the pathway fate has carved for me. 

He should be happy that his life ended up that long, as a result of his quick-thinking, but it also makes Rex feel sad every time he looks upon a vod’s numbers and it’s spiraling down to zero. Rex wants to hide away his numbers sometimes, he can’t though. 

Oh well. Rex sighs internally and leaves the ‘fresher. 

Rex is getting ready for a big mission to follow a signal being transmitted to a Separatist Cyber Center on the planet’s surface. Hours ago, Rex and Commander Cody came forward to Jedi Generals Made Windy and Anakin Skywalker with their theory that the Separatists had somehow managed to figure out Rex’s strategic “playbook”, and Cody had proposed taking a team behind enemy lines to investigate.

Rex finishes getting ready in the ‘fresher and exits. He walks over to the nearest bunk and sits down on it. A soft glowing light, warm and orange shines onto his face. 

He smiles to himself. 

On his holo-pad, he stares at a picture of him, Cody, Fives, and Echo. They all looked so… happy. Which should be kind of unusual during a war. Rex enjoyed his time with all three of them. Echo was taken away from them, a couple weeks after the picture was taken, during the Citadel Mission on Lola Sayu. Fives had never been the same since. Now, they are both gone. Rex doesn’t like to think about what happened to Fives. His hand grips tighter onto the edge of the screen. 

Rex believes that Echo is alive and he’s the reason why their algorithm keeps getting recognized and used against them. The swish of the doors opening turned Rex away from his holo-pad and towards his riduur. Cody. Rex smiles at him. 

Nobody is around. I could just- 

“Kot’ika, hey.” Rex let’s the nickname slip from his lips. Cody’s eyes soften from their natural hardened look. He always looks that way with everyone, especially when in serious situations. 

“Rex. You wanted to talk.” Cody barely lets a flicker of a smile show on his face. Rex knows he’s just trying to be the big bad Commander and barely show any emotion. He only ever shows true emotion, or loving emotion, when they are in the bedroom.

“Yes,” Rex confirms, “I did.”

The two of them talk about how Echo could be the potential reason for the Separatists constant victories. Rex deduces Echo is the only possible weak point for how the Separatists could have gotten the algorithm since his body has never been recovered. It is a bit of a far stretch though. It leaves Cody feeling skeptical of the theory after Rex tells him his idea. 

“I hope you’re right. But the fact is, Echo’s fingerprints are all over the Separatist’s strategies.” Rex looks at Cody. The other’s scratched up helmet sits nestled against his left hip. 

“Rex. You have to admit what you’re saying is a long shot at best, and most likely, misplaced hope.” Cody calmly watches him. Rex turns his gaze to the floor, sad and frazzled. He’s not so sure he can make up his mind about whether he wants to believe Cody’s instincts, or his own. 

Cody raises his hand slowly in front of Rex’s face to call back his attention. Rex stares at him again. 

Concern flickers in Cody’s eyes, “I need you to be focused on this.“ 

Rex shifts his gaze a bit. "I-I know, I know.” Golden eyes flick up to meet Cody’s hazel once more. “Don’t worry." 

Cody offers another smile, gentle and sweet. That’s when Rex’s eyes widen just a fraction. He stopped looking at other’s numbers above their heads because the 8 digits ceased to interest him; they only made him more sad and worried and so many other things. He just so happened to look up and notices Cody’s numbers are lowering a bit quicker than normal. 

Cody turns to walk away from the bunk and Rex squints at the mocking numbers. 

Holy kriff. Why didn’t I notice till now?  

"Wait, Cody.” Rex jumps to stand up and runs over to Cody; who turns around to face him again. Some confusion showed in his eyes. 

“Yes?” Cody shifts his weight to his right hip. 

Rex stares at the numbers in horror. “I…your numbers. They're…” Rex gestures to the numbers above Cody’s soft hair, longer than the normal hair length, and makes an aborted step closer. Cody tips his head back. Too bad an individual can’t see their own numbers unless they look in a mirror. Even then, they are still reversed when presented to the looking glass. The numbers just bend back with you if you look up. Cody seems to remember because he looks at Rex again. 

“What’s wrong with them?” Cody eyes him with concern. Rex steps closer and closer till Cody can almost feel his breath on his face. Rex trembles slightly. 

“They…they are dropping Cody. Fast.” Rex fights the urge to panic, to say something, to cry or anything, just-Stars! Make them stop moving! 

Cody restrains his own panic, but for Rex; because Rex looks like he’s going to cry in any minute. Cody grabs his hands and rubs his knuckles. Just the way he likes it; to calm down some. 

“Hey, cyare, look at me.” Cody’s voice is as soft as a young Tooka’s fur. Undisturbed. Fluffy. It could almost wrap it’s warmth around Rex’s body and squeeze him. Rex glances at his face and then back up at the flickering numbers. 

“Rex. Please, don’t look at the numbers. Look at me and only me. Don’t look at them.” Cody brushes his chin up with his finger. Rex reacts to it and leans against his body. 

“I don't… please don’t go. Your numbers are getting faster. They skipped down five years, Cody. It’s not even years! It's—oh stars.” Rex grits his teeth in horror. Cody quickly shushes him. He doesn’t want anyone to hear them. Rex submits to his hold. 

That’s another scary thing, the numbers do not make a sound. It’s like a ghost in the wind. 

“Cyare, you know that fate changes whenever you do something. Whatever path you take can change the whole directory, and that just happens to the best of us—" 

Rex growls and leans away. 

"But not you! I don’t give a shit what fate wants or needs. It won’t take you away from me. I ca-” Cody tightens his hold on Rex’s wrist. That shuts him up. Cody didn’t mean to, but Rex knows that he can’t get attached to him like that; especially when it came to their numbers. 

“You will. We are soldiers, Rex. We fight in a war and someday we may not make it back home, to our loved ones. You’ll have to accept that fact when fate decides it’s my time-”

Rex shakes his head. “You don’t have to go. You can stay here; we can make up an excuse why you shouldn’t or can’t go.” Rex smiles. Hope and sorrow shimmer like unhappy, broken up waves in a pond. 

Cody let’s go of Rex’s wrist, wraps his arms around his waist, and brings him closer to his chest. A hug. Rex’s breaths become slower and calm. 

“You know I can’t do that. But I will remain by your side till the very end, and if fate wants me today; and of course I hope it doesn’t, then it will take me and I get to march with our aliit.” Cody tucks his chin on top of Rex’s short, oh so soft, wheat blond curls. 

Rex fights against the burn behind his eyes. Don’t show emotions. Y-You ca-c-can’t. He became so sensitive after Umbara. Rex lost many brothers during that campaign, even the 212th lost many as well. Cody lost Waxer that day. 

“If I die, I’ll always be here with you, my love. Never forget that.” Cody whispers. His warm breath tickles his scalp. It sent shivers ramping down his neck, to his broad and wide shoulders, to his toned abdomen and all the way down to his feet. Rex’s arms snake their way around his cyare’s waist to return the hug. 

He hates to agree to disagree but it must be done to ease Cody’s concerns and cleanly wipe them off the slate. 

Rex nods. 

“Okay, okay,” Rex whispers. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum." 

Cody smiles. He pecks a quick kiss on Rex’s forehead and returns his resting place on his head. "Bal Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum." 

—

Rex stands beside Cody. They rock back and forth with the movement of the LAAT shuttle. Something that every trooper has learned throughout the war; go with the flow or the movement of the shuttle. Don’t fight against it or you’ll fall over. The red lights enveloped the entire midsection of the ship in an evil glow. It put Rex on edge because he knows that Cody’s time is ticking down to 0 sooner than he liked. 

Why did we let him go on the mission if he’s about to die or get hurt? Succumb to injuries that may kill him. Well, they are clone troopers. They can’t not go on missions just because their time is ticking down. They have to go! 

Cody glances down at Rex’s hand while everyone else is looking in the other direction, and his knuckles graze Rex’s. Two fingers wrap themselves around his own fingers. Rex looks up at Cody. Then the Captain slowly flicks his eyes up to stare scrutinizingly at the glowing numbers. They are slowly turning red. 

"Cody, ” Rex whispers. Cody rubs his thumb over his knuckles. 

“It’s okay, Rex. Everything is fine.” Cody reassures him with a small smile and kind eyes. Nothing is fine though. Cody is going to die in 43 minutes because of something that Rex doesn’t know, not yet anyways. Rex wants so badly to do more than curl his own fingers around Cody’s. He wants to hug him. Kiss him. Be close to him. 

“I gotta go up to the front and brief everyone on what we need to do. I’ll be back okay.” Cody let’s go of his fingers and holds his eye contact with Rex before he walks over to the front of the mid-section. 

00:43:57 

Cody won’t be back. Something is going to happen to this shuttle, I just know it.

Cody is getting closer and closer to death. Rex’s heart throbs at the terrible knowledge. Why does no one else care that Cody’s time is almost up? Why?! Maybe because they have another issue that’s more important than a clone Commander’s imminent death.

“Alright, listen up.” Cody whips out a mini holo-projector that shows a staticky picture of a satellite dish. “Here’s the mission. Our target is the Cyber Center. It’s the "brains” of the entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes.“ Cody seems so confident even though time is ticking. Ticking and ticking. And it won’t stop until it has Cody in it’s sharp clutches. 

Wrecker steps forth. "I could demolish that with one hand!” He says energetically while raising his left fist. “Yeah!” Wrecker nods. 

Cody just looks at him. “This isn’t a demo job, Wrecker.” Then Cody glances at everyone else on the shuttle. “It’s strictly a retrieval operation.” The holo-projection flickers off. The low blue of its natural light dissipates: and the evil red of the room returns. 

The shuttle tips to its right as it enters a canyon-like terrain. Rex nervously shifts as he stares at Cody’s numbers again. Even Hunter glances up at them in surprise. Seems like he just noticed. Rex thinks. The loud sound of explosions rock the ship from side to side. Everyone rocks with the movement. 

We are under attack! 

Everyone looks up at the ceiling. They can all hear it outside. Cannon fire, most definitely. The ship groans as it rises into the sky in an attempt to escape being shot down. A black DSD1 dwarf spider droid gets a lucky shot. The red plasma bolt rams into the metal with a screeching hiss. Amber’s fly off the side of the ship that had been hit; and the shuttle takes a dive back towards the ground. 

“We’re going down!” Wrecker shouts the obvious and starts to laugh like a maniac. 

The shuttle takes a dangerous dive straight into the side of the cliffs and then continues to shred across it, bringing rocks and rubble down with it. Then the shuttle tips onto its back and left side. It crashes into the ground loudly. Blue and violet crystals, that are stuck into the ground, are brought up by the massive hull. 

All of the troopers stumble out of the shuttle coughing and groaning to themselves in pain. Rex hop’s off the side and immediately starts to look for Cody. He didn’t get out. Rex comes to realize in well-concealed horror. 

Where is he?! 

“We always get shot down when we travel with regs.” Wrecker pouts. 

Kix remains on the ship and is peering down into the smoke enveloped shuttle. He calls, “Cody!” Cody doesn’t answer. So Kix turns his head to look at everyone else. “Help!”

A flare of dread rolls through Rex like an angry wave. He turns around, ready to do anything to save his cyare and get him out of there. Haar'chak! His time! He doesn’t have time! 

Kix looks back in quickly. His brows furrow. “He’s trapped. We have to do something." 

Rex rasps out, "I’ll get him.” and begins to jog over. Hunter rushes to stand in between Rex and his cyare—get your hands off of me!

 "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.“ Hunter stops him with two gauntleted hands pressed against his chest plate and right pauldron. Rex glares at him for one second and then tries to get a glance over his shoulder. 

Hunter can see his concern and desperation fluttering around in his eyes. He can tell why he wants to so badly save Cody. 

He reassures him, "Easy Captain.” Captain Rex looks at him like he’s crazy. What do you mean 'easy Captain’?! Move! Rex’s eyes glow a bit when the sun’s rays hit them just right. Hunter peeks around Rex’s right shoulder. 

“Wrecker,” Hunter acknowledges the bigger trooper, before ordering, “get him out.“ Hunter pushes Rex back and away far away from the ship, gently; just so then he wouldn’t anger him. Rex wouldn’t get unnecessarily upset. Hunter is just doing his job as a Commander of his own squad and is trying to keep him calm. 

Wrecker cracks his knuckles. He pulls his left arm up to pump himself up with adrenaline. He’ll need it to get Cody out of there. 

"Get back!” Wrecker grunts. 

Everyone moves away to watch whatever he’s about to do to save the Commander stuck inside. Rex’s right foot nervously taps against the ground. 

“This is ridiculous!” Kix looks at Rex. “He’s gonna need help to get Cody out of there.”

Rex glances from Kix, to the ground, and then back up to the flaming shuttle. 

Crosshair chuckles. “He’s gonna get the gunship out of there. Not Cody.” His tone is smug and cocky. Arms crossed over his chest plate like he’s all talk. Rex pushes his boiling anger back down. 

Wrecker places his hands on the heated metal. His left hand on the side and his right on the bottom. The sizzling of fire pops near him. Wrecker grunts powerfully. He lifts the shuttle up and up. Then Wrecker jerks his body down to rest both of his hands on the bottom of the shuttle. And his legs move to a crouched position, right leg bent down low and the foot is pressed into the ground, while the left leg is bent back behind him; they have also spread apart a little bit to support the weight. 

Wrecker heaves one last time before he pushes up with all his might. Knocking the ship right back up to sit like it’s supposed to; bottom part facing down against the ground, top up towards the sky. Parts of metal fall off and slam into the ground around Wrecker. 

He smiles under his cool helmet.

The ship then tips onto the other side. The deafening and horrid sounds of metal, screeching against each other like chalk on a chalkboard, drag along with a groan. The body of the pilot limply sits in the cockpit. Dead. Wrecker instantly grabs a hold of the injured 212th Commander in yellow and heaves him up, like a rag doll, onto his shoulders in a fireman hold.

 The buff trooper turns around and makes his way back towards the awaiting group. The aura around the group suffocates them in anxiety; more so for the regs.

Cody’s legs swing from side to side, like he’s already dead. 

Wrecker tips his chin up. “Boom." 

And on cue, as if he did this a million times before, the shuttle blows up. It becomes a fiery storm of red, orange, and yellow fire. The smoke billows up it no the sky. 

Rex and Kix both squint against the heat and raging colors. It may look pretty, but it can still kill. Kix’s mouth opens in a gap and he runs over to meet Wrecker. His field medic instincts are kicking in in an instant. 

Rex grits his teeth and runs over as well, his kama swings around his hips multiple times. Wrecker starts to slowly lower him onto the ground; which draws out a pained reaction from Cody. Rex’s eyes widen at the death time flickering above his head. 

00:00:37:47

Kix takes out a scanner, the laser hums as it’s dragged along over Cody’s chest because a big metal pole laid across his back inside the ship when he was stuck. Cody’s skin crinkles up under his eyes as his face scrunches up in agony. 

Cody groans again. 

"He has internal damage.” Kix says grimly. Kix glances at all of them. “I can cut the pain. But he needs help fast.” He takes off his med-pack and starts to dig through it for supplies. 

Rex stares at the numbers with sad eyes. Cody gazes up at him longly. Rex notices his cyare’s looking at him, so he kneels down to get a bit closer. 

“It’s okay, Cody. Kix will fix you up.” Rex reassures him with a small smile. Cody grimaces when a wave of pain rapidly washes over him. 

“I-It hur-hurts.” Cody closes his eyes.

Rex bites the inside of his cheek. If Cody is admitting that it hurts; then it must hurt bad. 

“I know. But it’ll be okay. Just stay with me.” Rex’s fingers inch towards his hand. Force, I want to comfort him so bad. But everyone is around. All I can do is say something for now. “I am here, Cody." 

Cody flinches away from Kix when he plunges pain killers into the side of his neck. Cody gasps and tries to get away. 

"No no. It’s okay. It’s just a syringe.” Rex smiles. Hoping to calm Cody down. 

Kix pushes it in; not even waiting for Cody to listen to Rex. The slender metal slides into sensitive skin and that’s enough to make Cody halt in his desperate attempt to escape more pain. 

“There you go.” Kix comforts him. He may be firm, but he still cares about his patients. “We need to get him somewhere safe so then a drop ship can come pick him and I up. I’ll go with him back to the base.” Kix volunteers. 

While he is, Cody is slowly falling asleep. 

Rex nods. “Okay.”

—

The sky is a beautiful glowing blue. An ominous aurora, a glistening light show of ivy green and with a fair amount of yellow, swirled in the sky above a campsite down below in the thick wooded forest. The warm glow of a fire pit hummed lively through the treetops. 

Jesse and Kix sit in front of a fire pit. They lean against one another. Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair stand near the fire pit and Hunter is a little ways away; crouched in the dirt. Hunter touches the dirt and closes his eyes. Near the front of the camp and further away from the campfire sits Cody and Rex. 

Cody curls forward and groans in agony. His chest burns terribly. Rex let’s his hand graze the inside of his thigh plate and comforts him the best he can. 

“It’s okay, Cody.” Rex whispered under his breath. Cody whines. He tries to push Rex’s hand away but he wouldn’t let go of him for his sake. 

“No no. Cod'ika, listen to me. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” Rex reassures him. Or more like he’s trying to reassure himself that everything will be fine but it isn’t! Cody’s time is standing at a standstill of 00:16:34. 

“Rex….R-Rex. It hurts so bad.” Cody moaned.

 Rex coos at him. “I know, Cod'ika. I know. Just breathe for me." 

Cody’s fingers grip the hard plastoid armor around his abdomen and try to yank it off, but he couldn’t. Rex watches him. The numbers flicker again. 00:14:23.

Haar'chak. 

"R-Rex, forceee~ It burns.” Cody places his head against Rex’s chest plate and grits his teeth. 

Rex looks over his left shoulder. “Kix! Cody, he's—" 

The medic rushes over, excusing himself from his conversation with Jesse and the others. Jesse stands yo in concern but Kix tells him to sit back down, he’ll worry about it. 

"Okay, Commander. It’s alright. Shit.” Kix stares at the scarlet red above Cody’s head. “Haar'chak.” Kix looks down at his hands and turns his sad gaze to his Captain. 

“Rex, I am sorry but we can’t do anything else until the shuttle comes.” Kix sits back. 

“But he’s dying Kix! There has to be something you can do!” Rex grips Cody’s trembling hand between his two palms. Cody moans a little louder when his head starts to swim. Rex leans his head against his chestplate. 

“I’ve got you. Just lean against me and you’ll be okay.” Rex wraps his arms around him and glances up at the numbers. 13 minutes. 

Cody knows his time is almost up. He can feel it in his muscles; how they sag and become heavy like clay and rocks. His eyes couldn’t stay open for long. He feels so tired. Rex stares at the medic sitting beside Cody. 

“Can you give us a moment alone?” Rex requested.

Kix smiles sympathetically. “Of course.” Kix walks back over to the warm campfire. 

“My love. I am sorry.” Cody apologizes once Kix is gone. “There was no avoiding this. I am so so sorry.”

Hot tears prick Rex’s eyes. He whispers, “It’s okay, Cod'ika. It’s my fault. I should’ve been more persistent with convincing you to stay at the base.” Tears drift down Rex’s face. Cody reaches him up to wipe them away. Rex smiles wetly and presses his forehead against Cody’s and sniffles. 

“I love you Kote,” Rex utters the endearment that makes him all the more sad. “I love you so kriffing much,” Rex whispers. A soft sob escapes his lips. Cody closes his eyes and grunts in pain. It’s like the pressure in his stomach is releasing but in the most uncomfortable way possible.

“I love you too.” Cody sighs. His time ticks closer and closer to his inevitable death. Rex holds onto his lover and rocks him back and forth, while he whispers sweet nothings against his cold and clammy skin. 

Rex bites his lower lip. 

“I wish there was a way to save you. I wish that I could save you. Stars, please help me. Help him. Please give him more time.” Rex murmurs and prays. Cody listens to his breathy pleads over and over; the world is enveloped in a period of silence that is only broken by Rex’s prayers.

“Let me save him. Please, let me save him.” Rex continues the desperate mantra like a broken record. 

“Give him more time.”

Cody’s breaths start to slow down with their deathly crawl. His chest burns for more oxygen. Please, more! He whines in pain. Cody claws at Rex’s arm as he is desperate for comfort. 

“Give him more time. Give him more time.” Rex repeats. 

Cody gasps softly when an odd wave of warmth extinguishes the cold from his skin and body. His eyes fly open. Kix and the others are watching the loving and sad interaction unfold. Kix’s eyes widen when Cody’s numbers flicker closer to three minutes—and they stop. Everyone takes a bated breath and sits in waiting. 

Rex says again, “Give him more time. Give him more time. Let me give him more time.”

Cody slowly turns his head to gaze onto Rex’s scrunched up face. Rex’s eyes are closed and his lips move at lighting speed. Cody groans from a deathly cold sensation that suddenly turns really warm and filled with life. Rex’s numbers start to flicker themselves and they—they start to lower from sixty years and go down.

Everyone around them moves towards them in shock. Rex refuses to let go of Cody’s hands. He keeps his own around them until he feels the warmth return to them. Rex blinks in confusion and gazes up at Cody’s numbers. 

He gasps. 

I-I…I can’t b-believe it. His numbers— 

Cody’s eyes widen in horror at Rex’s numbers. 

His numbers!

Cody finally feels his strength return, it’s a rush of adrenaline that he uses to reach up and touch the side of Rex’s face. He studies his eyes. Golden and normal; nothing’s wrong with them! Cody stares at his numbers again. 

Rex’s numbers stop moving. Cody gapes. Fifty years?! He lost a whole ten years! 

“Rex?? I-I…what did you do?” Cody frowns in worry. Rex shushes him. 

“I did what I had to so then you could live." 

Wrecker screams, "What?! How is that possible? Nobody told me you could do this!!" 

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Nobody knew this Wrecker. This is… Strange. Weird. Are only Regs above to do this?” Crosshair turns to look at the medic questioningly. 

Kix shrugs. “N-No. No. I am very sure no one has ever known to do this before. This is a new discovery and development.” Kix kneels down beside Cody’s body again and checks all of his vitals quickly just to double check. Cody couldn’t tear his eyes away from Rex’s numbers. 

The corner of Rex’s lip quirks up in amusement. “Cod'ika, look at me. Don’t look at the numbers. They’ve stopped moving; haven’t they?" 

Cody glares at him. "You di'kut! You threw your years away to–to— " 

"To give you extra years. Commander…you just gained 10 years!” Kix interrupts. “How is that—" 

”-Possible?” Hunter finishes for him. 

Rex shrugs. “I just kept thinking about wanting to give him more time, and I did." 

Cody’s eyes tear up. "Force, you didn’t have to…you didn’t have to do that for me, Rex! You do know that right?”

Rex shakes his head. His eyes light up. 

“Cody, I don’t think you understand. I did it because I…” Should I mention our relationship in front of the others? 

Cody stares at Rex, waiting for him to finish. 

Heh. Screw it! “I care about you a lot. I love you and you know that." 

The Bad Batchers smile softly, except for Crosshair, he barely smiles for any reason. Kix and Jesse both gaze at one another. Cody’s breath trembles. 

"R-Rex. Force, thank you. Cyare, I love you too.” Cody presses his face into his chest plate. Kix smiles at them. 

“Well, his vitals are a lot better, sir. But I think that he should still go back to the base and rest. I don’t want him getting hurt again on this mission and the next time you aren’t able to save him. Okay?” Kix stares them both down firmly. Commander Cody knows not to test Kix’s patience. 

“Yessir.” Cody smirks. Kix nods at them and gets up. Then the medic shoos everyone away from the pair so they can have a moment to themselves. 

Cody and Rex look at each other before they laugh quietly. Rex’s hand shifts from his bicep to his side. It is there to support him.

“Rest cyare. The shuttle will be here soon and you’ll be back at the base in no time.” Rex offers a small, yet loving smile. Cody leans back against the tree.

“Good. “

 The aura around them becomes less tense and more silent. Cody and Rex are thinking about everything that just happened. It happened so fast that Rex wasn’t able to comprehend what happened.

I sacrificed 10 years of my life, and I don’t exactly know how I did it. But one things for sure— 

Rex hugs Cody. 

“You are reckless sometimes, Rex’ika. You may not have known that would happen; but it did. What if you gave your entire life away for me? And if it’s possible for you to lend over 10 years then I am positively sure you can give away your whole life to me,“ Cody murmurs. 

His cyare smiles, unashamed and completely gentle. "I would do anything for you, Cody. You know that.”

“That’s what I am worried about most times too. I am worried you’ll do something that will put your own life on the line for me or someone else you care about. I rather you live than me, I am being honest.” Cody can already feel the heaviness on his eyelids. Sleep is a beautiful thing when it takes you under; away from the pain and suffering. 

“I know. But I don’t regret it. Saving you is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.” Rex gazes over at the others around the fire pit.

 "I have to go now, Cody.“

"Okay. Stay safe, for me.” Cody curls one pinky around Rex’s Index finger. Rex grips his pinky tightly before letting go. 

“Of course, Kot'ika." 

Rex’s finger slips away from Cody’s grasp. He walks towards the fire pit in front of Cody and begins to talk about what they need to do next. In the soft, moist soil, a couple meters away next to the tree; a small shrub-like Hawthorn flower peeks, shyly, from the ground. With a thorny, shiny, thick stem and five white petals with anthers in the middle of the flower that are pink or red. 

Its petals open up slowly, like a venus fly trap, and shine brightly in the dark of night.

[wolftraps]

Sign over your soul

Many people (including @sidewalk-and-chalkin most recently) asked about Cass and her meeting with Martin about keeping her job and the whole reveal. Technically this doesn’t include the full reveal, but I already gave you a powerpoint for that. So here. Have Cass and Martin trying to one-up each other while Jon continues being a disaster.

--

Cass and Martin have never been friends. Which is odd because it’s not like they haven’t known each other, and they’re both generally friendly people. They’ve even been friends with a lot of the same people. And yet, even after years of working in the same place and talking to the same people, they still know each other almost solely by reputation. Reputation which, prior to Martin joining the Archives, had been good. Now… well, now it’s hard to say. The doors are locked, as usual, when Cass arrives for her pseudo-interview, but that’s been the case for months and it hasn’t mattered so far. And as usual, Patrząc meets her out front and leads her around to a side door, propped open with a tape recorder, that she locks back up behind her. As always. “And how are you today, beautiful?” Cass asks. Patrząc meows back, pleased. “That’s great. So, what are the odds I’m about to lose my job?” Another meow; Cass laughs. “I know better than to bet against myself. Do you even have any money?” Patrząc ignores her, just leads her through the familiar building to a room on the ground floor that Cass knows has been turned into Martin’s new office. There they stop. “Right.” Cass takes a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

“Mrrow,” Patrząc says. “It doesn’t matter if I need it or not. It’s polite.” The cat just stares. “Oh hush.” With another breath, Cass knocks, intending to wait, but as soon as she does, Patrząc huffs and rubs up against the door, which swings open with only a soft click. She meows at Martin as she leads Cass in and then stalks right back out as the door closes behind her. “That cat has no sense of decorum,” Cass says fondly, staring after her. “She’s Jon’s cat,” Martin responds, just as fond, “I’ve given up. Anyway. Sit, please. You want any tea?” “Sure. Just a—” “Small spoonful of sugar,” Martin finishes, already setting the mug in front of her. It’s made perfectly. “So, first off, thank you for all the work you’ve been doing. It’s really been a relief to not have all that to worry about.” “No idea what you’re talking about,” Cass lies. “Right. So you don’t want this bonus I was going to give you.” “Well it’s not like you or Sims were going to maintain the network. Also you can blame the cat for letting me in.” “Yeah, I know. I’ve always known. If it was a problem we would’ve talked way before now.” “Right. Good… Should I bother asking how? I know you’re not watching the security footage.” She’d checked. No one had accessed any of it but her since they closed the doors. “You… can. First I’d like to go over some things myself. And, whenever he can be bothered to join us, Jon has some questions too.” “O- oh.” Cass doesn’t actually have anything to hide— not really. She still gets a shiver down her spine, though, and takes a sip of perfect tea to cover it. “Sure.” “Cool. Alright. Where—” Martin flips through the papers on his desk, fumbling a bit. It makes him look like the same nice, approachable man he’d been before. Something about it feels deliberate, though. Cass forces herself into a relaxed posture to match. Finally, Martin finds what he was ‘looking’ for, two sheets down in the stack right in front of him. “Ah! Here we go. So you’ve been working here for six years, right? Two promotions in that time. Do you like working here? I guess that’s a good place to start.” “I mean, yeah. It’s not exactly easy work. IT in a place like this—” “Not exactly easy to do any job in a place like this,” Martin mutters. “Well, yeah, but you never had to explain to Elias that it didn’t matter how high- or low- tech we went, security cameras wouldn’t work in the Archives.” “You didn’t have to hide in your flat for a full day because supernatural worms trapped you there.” “You didn’t have to create an entirely new encryption program to prevent data corruption in all Elias’s emails.” “You didn’t have to try to convince Tim not to murder Jon.” “You didn’t have to write a virus to keep Tim from stalking Sims even more.” “Did you really?” “Yeah.” “Oh… thanks.” Cass waves him off. “Not like it worked.” “Still… You didn’t get chased through secret tunnels and stumble across your old boss’s corpse.” “Right, about that! Who did kill Gertrude? Really?” “Elias.” “Yes! Called it…” She considers for a second. “You didn’t have to crawl through the walls to replace the cables the worms ate through. You think the ECDC cleared out all their gross, wriggly little corpses? They didn’t.” Martin sets down his tea, looking appropriately disgusted. “Oh, ugh. Hmm… You didn’t have to run from a creature that eats people and steals their identities.” “You didn’t have your friend replaced and have to explain to their best friend what happened without fully understanding it yourself.” “I… kind of did, actually.”

Cass pauses, something suddenly becoming clear. “Oh… oh. I’m… surprised Tim was as controlled as he was, then.” “Yeah. He had… other things to distract him. It’s not exactly the same. Sasha’s still around, sort of. She’s just—” Not something he really wants to talk about, clearly. “Right. You’ve never had to spend hours trying to figure out exactly how Sasha fucked up your system after she changed things without warning.” “I have, though,” Martin sighs, clearly exasperated. “The number of forms I’ve had to redo. It’s not… totally her fault. She doesn’t mean to do it; it’s more like a reflex.” “Oh no. Michael Lanson’s entire existence in our system was not some reflex. She did that intentionally, and she made it just right enough that I probably wouldn’t have noticed for months if Hannah hadn’t said something, and just wrong enough I had to redo the whole thing from scratch or it would’ve drove me insane.” “Oh. That. Yeah. She was… trying to do us a favor, sort of? Anyway, you never had to convince Daisy Tonner that you had no clue where Jon might be while he was on the run.” “Sure I did. Not as hard as you did, sure, but I still had to lie to her.” “Wait— You knew where Jon was?” “I mean, not at first. But Melanie King comes in talking about the dead guy being Jurgen Leitner and leaving with boxes from the Archives? That she’s just allowed to carry out? After Sims utterly destroyed Diana in her defense?” “Wait, Jon did what?”

Cass sits bolt upright, potential glee already taking hold. “You don’t know about that? I swear the archives were CCed.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Oh my god. Okay. Hold on,” Cass says, already scrolling through the saved emails on her phone. It takes less than a minute to find and send the right one. “You never wondered why Diana hates Sims so much?” “I mean. A lot of people hate Jon, and I doubt Diana could kill him, so I wasn’t that worried that… Oh my god, Jon. How did I miss this? I… I think I might need to frame this… Wait, if you thought he was with Melanie, why didn’t you say anything to Daisy?” Cass pauses for a second, but, well, given how freaky the Archivist himself is, this probably won’t phase Martin too much. “I didn’t just think. I traced her mobile to place her at Georgie Barker’s and then hacked CCTV feeds until I caught Sims.” “You…” Martin sighs and slumps a bit. “Of course you did. I don’t know why I… That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell Daisy.” Cass shrugs and takes another sip of tea. “Wasn’t my business. Also, that would’ve been tampering and all the bets I’d taken would be void. Anyway. You never had to prove to Daisy Tonner that you’d already destroyed any and all evidence that might implicate Jonathan Sims in any murder, especially that of Peter Lukas, after she joined the Institute.” “You never had to get Jon to talk about his feelings.” “True, but you never had to explain to Elias both what keyloggers are and why we shouldn’t use them.” “Key— Wait, are you trying to tell me there aren’t keyloggers on every computer here?” “Oh, no, there absolutely are. But all collected data is immediately encrypted with a specially created algorithm where the key changes at short, irregular intervals and requires both knowledge-based and biological-based authentication just to generate a decryption key for use. Also our storage space is limited, so most of it can only be kept for a week at most. He probably still knew everything everyone ever typed, but any actual evidence was only ever accessible by me.” It takes Martin a moment to process this. Cass takes another sip of tea. “How did you get away with that?” “Assured him Gertrude would never be able to access any of it. And then every time he came around for any reason I started thinking about all the upgrades I wanted to ask for.” He looks a little shell-shocked. “I… honestly can’t tell how much you know about everything that’s been going on around here.” “Not as much as us, but more than most everyone else, and enough she likely won’t change her mind about staying,” Jonathan Sims says, striding in looking harried with a very self-satisfied cat draped across his shoulders. “I… apologize for my tardiness, Martin, Josie.” Cass freezes. “Jos—” Martin starts to ask. “Ahh,” Sims says, almost sheepishly. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t—” “It’s fine,” Cass says stiffly. “I figured you probably knew. It’s— not actually that big a deal.” “Still. I shouldn’t— I didn’t mean to—” Well, this is awkward. “Martin said you had some questions,” she cuts him off. “Y-yes. I— don’t think that will be necessary.” “Wait- really?” Martin asks incredulously. “You don’t have any questions? You?” “I—” Cass knows many things about most of the people who have worked in the Institute over the past six years, but there’s only so much you can ever actually know about a person from a distance. She’s good at filling in the blanks, but it still somehow surprises her to find that the dreaded Archivist is almost painfully awkward. He looks at her with something like apprehension. “Go ahead,” she tells him and goes to take another sip, only to find her cup empty. Damn. “Miss Walters has a grand total of one close friend outside the Institute, and that only because Hannah Kenway has now left our employ. Her only remaining family is a grandfather who lives in a small town near Barcelona and hasn’t taken any of her calls in the past five years, though she still always tries on Christmas and her mother’s birthday. She has had an interest in the paranormal since… ah.” “Since?” Martin prompts. Cass keeps staring at the empty mug in betrayal. “Since her mother disappeared when she was six, after reading her a children’s book titled “Una Invitada Para el Señor Araña.” “What does— Ohh.” “Guessing you know that one, then,” Cass says. “I— had my own encounter with it,” Sims tells her. “About three years after yours, though it was in English then.” “Yeah. Strange how no one ever believes the kid who says they saw a giant spider eat someone.” “And yet— You aren’t afraid of spiders.” “I am. Sort of. After it happened, I decided I was going to learn everything there was to know about spiders, the supernatural, and Jurgen Letiner. Which eventually brought me here. It’s just… Spiders are fascinating. I have a… healthy respect for them—” “And you’ve always been attracted to dangerous things.” Cass narrows her eyes at him and tries to keep her voice serious when she says, “If you’re about to say the word ‘murderwives,’ I’m gonna have to insist you let me record it.” Sims scowls, something like affront on his face. “I would not.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but now I actually kind of want to hear you say that, Jon,” Martin says. Cass wonders again why they aren’t friends already. “I will not!” “I bet Sasha could get you to say it.” “She could not, and you are not going to call her in here just to try,” Sims asserts, but the mischievous smile Martin has doesn’t seem to agree. “Martin.” “I won’t call her in here just to try,” Martin promises, though Cass notes what he doesn’t say and doubts that will be the end of it. Around Sims, Martin nods at her, just slightly, and she knows that she’ll probably get an audio file from him within the week. Sims looks reproachful. Martin looks entirely unrepentant. “Regardless,” Sims decides to move on, “Miss Walters has found herself rather attached to the Institute and likely hasn’t even considered not staying on. Also I suspect, should we not keep her on, our network may refuse to cooperate with her replacement entirely.” “… You mean that literally, don’t you?” Martin sounds so resigned Cass has to laugh. “That’s my baby,” she says proudly. “Right,” he sighs. “So I guess we’ll just go straight to selling your soul to a fear god, then.” She can’t say that’s what she was expecting to hear, especially with someone like Martin in charge. But, she supposes, they don’t actually know each other that well. Anyway, selling your soul to a fear god sounds dangerous, and she’s intrigued. “Alright,” she asks, “is that a bug or a feature?”

[davidmann95]

Hey David? Why is ours such a cruel and merciless God?

mirrorfalls said: (If you don't know what I'm talking about, your inbox should be filling up with more specific deets riiiiight about now.)

cheerfullynihilistic said: THE SNYDER CUT

Anonymous said: You don’t seem to think Superman’s public rep will take another beating from the Snyder Cut coming out. Honestly I thought you’d be way more upset than you seemed on Twitter.

Anonymous said: So uhh, against all thoughts and logic the Snyder cut is being released? Maybe as a mini series? Thoughts?

Anonymous said: SNYDER CUT!

Bullies. Jocks. Guys angrily asking if we know who their father is. Assorted dudebro nerd-oppressors of America:

You have failed us. You have failed us so hard. What else do we even keep you around for if not to head this shit off at the pass? Shame on you.

Okay, so seriously: I’m actually gonna put most bitching and moaning under a cut, because I know firsthand there are as many as several non-slavering maniacs out there who dug Man of Steel and Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice and who are simply and entirely reasonably excited that they’re getting this movie after all. I don’t feel like throwing a wall of text at them shitting all over this, so I’ll lead off with I think some fairly even-handed commentary on the real-world circumstances here, rambling speculation regarding the production, and some cautious optimism about the actual movie/s. THEN I’ll get to what I imagine most of you are here to see.

So totally in a vacuum: this is a cool, good thing. I’m the notorious theatrical Justice League-liker, but at best it was a compromised product due to the original creator - who like it or not clearly had an incredibly ambitious personal vision for these characters and their world - suffering a horrific tragedy forcing him off the project, and leaving his final stamp on blockbuster culture and a world he’d devoted years of his life to a flop with his name on it when he couldn’t even truly call it his own anymore. At worst, said tragedy was taken advantage of by suits to ditch him in the home stretch so as to try and shove out something ostensibly more marketable. But now because of a...very loyal fanbase, the man’s getting the opportunity and resources to rise like a phoenix and see at least some of his vision through in a huge way. That’s pretty remarkable.

Not in a vacuum this is fucking horrifying. I’ve already seen folks poo-poohing the reflexive fears that this will ‘set a precedent’, and they were right enough that I deleted my initial tweet on the subject because I didn’t think I could express my own opinion with any nuance in the space of 280 characters. Yeah, nerd whining definitely shaped Rise of Skywalker (another movie I enjoyed in spite of the circumstances of its creation). Hell, Sonic the Hedgehog crunched its CGI team prior to unceremoniously firing them to redesign his model thanks to outcry. That’s already a market force, and just to be clear upfront, if we can’t agree the predominant mode of operation for #ReleaseTheSnyderCut has been a toxic nerd harassment campaign when they spammed posts memorializing deceased actors and chased Diane Nelson off Twitter, we’re not gonna be able to have this conversation. And director’s cuts are you may have noticed also already a thing. But this isn’t changing direction on a project that’s already going to exist no matter what, this is turning back 3 years later on a commercial flop and dumping tens of millions of dollars into it, explicitly in response to that harassment campaign. It’s not *actually* going back and, say, remaking The Last Jedi, but by god to the naked eye it’s gonna be as good as for plenty of fanboys, and probably to some shortsighted execs as well. This is a new thing, and in this context it is a very, very bad one. Hopefully one that won’t amount to anything.

As for the movie itself: what the hell is this thing going to end up being? I assume with this sort of cashola being pumped into it we’re not getting any slapdash greenscreen or storyboarded sequences, but four hours? Is it really just going to be an expanded and revised version of what we saw in theaters, or is this including content that would have been in the originally planned Justice Leagues 2 and 3? My understanding is that those were already compressed into a single Justice League 2 before plans collapsed altogether, were they maybe filming side-by-side and this’ll be the whole shebang? If not is Snyder going to hedge his bets and end this on a clean note, or keep it ending on a cliffhanger in hopes HBO will throw another $250 million his way to keep going? Does DC want to keep going? Would they give into fan pressure on releasing after all what was widely publicized as the first film of a duology or trilogy with dangling threads if they weren’t going to be at least watching the numbers to see the feasibility of returning to this in a bigger way? Not that I think WB execs would piss into Snyder’s mouth if he were dying of thirst at this point if he simply asked to be able to do Justice League 2, but if he floated that if they instead just give him a liiiiiiiitle more money he can finally deliver unto them their very own Avengers - one that they can work on even during quarantine since it’s mostly just VFX work left - and hey if it works out he’s got a sequel or two cued up and ready to go? Maybe they look at their scattered plans and say the hell with it and end up giving this a theatrical release and sequel with Snyder holding the reigns again if this ends up a killer app; stranger things have happened, if not many, and somehow this is already happening in the first place after all. Alternatively, if this succeeds, could they go “thanks and good on ya, totally do another, but it’s gonna be an HBO exclusive so you’re only getting a hundred million, figure it out”? Would Ben Affleck return? How much reshooting will he be willing to commit to even for this? And most importantly, since this is potentially going to be serialized as six ‘episodes’, will We Got This Covered count this as another ‘win’ since their bullshit rumor mill algorithm spit out “Justice League HBO TV show” recently?

As for the project itself: I ain’t subscribing to HBOMax for this bad boy, but once it becomes more widely available I can’t claim I won’t probably watch it. It’s basically a new movie about the Justice League, and if there’s anything I WOULD wanna see Zack Snyder do in the DCU, it’s the movie finally moving past pseudo-realism (aside from some of those dopey costumes) and leaning all the way into godlike superbeings bludgeoning each other through continents. I absolutely wanna see his aesthetic take on the Green Lantern Corps, and New Genesis, and time travel, and all the other weird promises of where his movies were going to go climaxing in a ridiculous super-war across all spacetime. It’s the same reason J.G. Jones was an exciting choice for Final Crisis before he had to leave, seeing a guy known for his work in an ultra-real grungy superhero style starting there and building up to seeing his version of absolutely wild cosmic spectacle. And no, to respond to one of the initial asks, I’m not worried about the impact on Superman. Everyone seems to have accepted this is its own distinct thing whether they like it or not, I think him getting to complete his ‘arc’ will quiet down many of the folks who like to yell at every other version as retro nonsense since now they’ll be able to be smug about having had the best take rather than pining for a lost finale, and I’m not interested in further Superman movies at the moment anyway with Superman & Lois in the pipe (which I was originally paranoid would be endangered by this when rumors first started floating, but if it’s been brewing since November then if they wanted to strike that down to ‘make room’ according to their Byzantine ever-shifting rules, they would have by now). Far as I’m concerned, as long as the other DC movies get to keep doing what they’re doing during and past this - even Pattinson in his corner, however that works - then totally let Snyder work out all his Wagnerian superhero bullshit for another flick or two. If nothing else, maybe we’ll learn what the hell that diagram up there is supposed to mean. And a plea I want to clarify upfront is wholeheartedly sincere: we’re already down the rabbit hole, so let Snyder to literally whatever he wants with his non-theatrically released Justice League. Zero input or veto power from outside parties. If he wants Flash to hang dong or Superman to say fuck or Batman to learn he’s Steppenwolf’s secret dad or Cyborg to learn he needs to eat babies to fuel his machine parts, let him go for it. Whole point is this is now his thing for people who want his thing.

Okay, beneath the cut the filter comes off, so go ahead if that’s your jam.

Hahahahahahaha this is gonna be such a fuckin’ shitshow you guys, Jesus Christ.

They’re giving the dude who did BvS and wants to make an Ayn Rand adaptation someday $30 million to take another crack at this monstrosity! 30 goddamn million smackaroos for four fucking hours of by many accounts roughly the same basic movie, except now presumably with what little coherency, fun, and clean character work the theatrical cut managed to pull off excised in return for weighty staring, ponderous pseudo-philosophical musings, hackneyed symbolism, aimless mythology teasing, and Steppenwolf I understand being decapitated by Wonder Woman at the end rather than taken back to Apokolips. I didn’t even spoiler mark that shit because don’t you dare pretend you care about the fate of Steppenwolf. I won’t have it.

I used to wonder if I was indeed missing the forest for the trees with these movies, that I was so inflexible in my personal image of these characters - even though I appreciate plenty of alternate takes on them and even some stories that bend or break what I consider their ‘rules’, just not these - that I was incapable of grasping or appreciating these films on their own merits as works of art using those archetypes in wildly different ways; even I could see there were good moments and interesting ideas on display despite seemingly failing to come together. No matter how much I personally deconstructed how and why it wasn’t working, I couldn’t do it to my own satisfaction to the point of stamping out that niggling little worry with how many folks whose opinions I respect love ‘em. Until I finally remembered that the Cadmus arc of Justice League Unlimited is totally the same basic story as BvS, centrally driven by an even worse take on Superman, and that’s still one of the best superhero stories of all time. These just stink by any merits, and while I think Justice League absolutely has the potential to be the most *entertaining* of the bunch, it’s not going to magically become *good* in the eleventh hour. Not to lift up Joss Whedon of all people as some kind of savior, I’m on the record that my love for Justice League as-is is some kind of inexplicable alchemical accident, but I promise that there is not going to be one single addition to this movie that’s going to make up for the removal of “Just save one person”.

Also I’m already not looking forward to dudes tweeting “whoa, he’s splitting it up into a serialized narrative, reflective of the sequential nature of the characters’ primitive native pictorial medium! Or mayhap in ode to the pulp film adventure serials which inspired those in turn! Even the Justice League children’s cartoon for dumb babies, which was itself...made up of episodes! That’s three references in the structure of the thing alone! The man’s operating on an entirely different level!” “God, isn’t it amazing how much better he understands the source material than you”, they shall say, about a man who I understand just very confidently referred to Doomsday in his livestream as having destroyed Krypton in the comics. Again, don’t you say they won’t, just the other day I saw folks tweeting they just realized that since Jor-El wears armor over his bodysuit that technically means Superman’s whole costume is underwear which means Snyder’s totally honoring that without putting him in ugly dumb red panties so checkmate, dorks.

(Okay, in fairness, I know Snyder was saying that’s his take on what happened to the moon in the past of the movies and maybe I only misheard that he thought that also happened in the comics, and it’s trivial information anyway. Still sucks though, that seeming out-of-nowhere Jax-Ur shoutout was like the one thing I liked about that otherwise interminable Krypton sequence. And why is there a second Doomsday? You did Death of Superman already!)

And further SPOILER thoughts below on the reported plots of 2 and 3:

It’s also an amazing, perfect sort of narrative synchronicity that the hypocrisy of Man of Steel in presenting Superman as a savior would (will?) be matched by the movies also rejecting that promise long-term. In there, Jor-El’s musings on the capacity of every living thing being capable of good, the closest the film has to a singular moral statement, are proven wrong when Zod has to be put down like a mad dog, and rather than the one who’ll bring us into the sun, Kal-El’s presence draws ruin from beyond the stars to our world. And again in BvS with Doomsday. And again in Justice League 1-3, where in spite of claims by Snydercutters that it’s okay for Superman to be a really lousy take on Superman because it’s totally supposed to take several movies after putting on the costume and calling himself Superman, including his own death and resurrection, for him to really, like, become Superman, man, he remains a liability to the end. His death lures in Steppenwolf, the Kryponian matrix in his genes is Darkseid’s goal, he becomes the villain of the first act of Justice League 3 - possibly of his own free will depending on which version you’ve heard about - and at the final showdown, it’s Batman who sacrifices himself to stop Darkseid and save the world and inspire the rise of superheroism, because Batman, you see, rules, whereas Superman, stay with me here, drools. A letdown given BvS was just about the one major story of the last 30 years to unambiguously conclude Superman is better than Batman, but not a shocker. None of what I understand goes down in these - iconography from the likes of Fourth World, Crisis on Infinite Earths, Death and Return of Superman, Rock of Ages, Final Crisis, and Injustice reused but stripped of all context and thematic weight that gives it meaning (even Injustice is built on the premise of having a ‘good’ Superman to contrast the dictator); Lois being the ‘key’ because of her connections to two men, one she married and one she bears; time travel that even by the very generous suspension of disbelief applied to it in a genre like this operates by two obviously completely different sets of rules in its only two uses, and is then used to write the entire second movie of the trilogy out of continuity in the first act of the third, making one and a half of these movies pointless - is shocking. It’s just more empty notions and unfulfilled promises offered up to a fanbase staking everything on the idea that all the tampering, all the wild swings, all the meandering, it’s all building UP to something, not possibly just a dude who doesn’t understand these characters but wanting to look very clever with them before building up to one more rad punch-up. So yes, make these movies. Let what can be gleaned from them as worthwhile be revealed, leave the rest of it up for examination to be judged as it deserves and let it, finally. Finally. Be done.

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.5

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 5 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5

Author: Gumnut

29 Apr - 11 May 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 4259

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background. A little angst in this one.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph​​​. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’ve been staring at this too long and it is late. I hope I don’t regret posting this. Especially as Alan misbehaved and threw an unplanned scene at me.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom​ @scribbles97​​​ and @onereyofstarlight​​​ for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

He didn’t sleep long.

Virgil was woken so they could drag him onto A Little Lightning. Scott marshalled him out of his wet clothes, into a shower and quietly redressed his healing incisions. Lunch was demanded and a sandwich shoved into his hand. Coffee was denied him and orange juice substituted.

He found himself dozing at the table.

Mel and Sam were invited for lunch aboard the boat. Gordon was busy being host, but never quite seemed to be very far from Virgil.

Sam mentioned the whales several times, but Gordon shut him down and at no point did he have a chance to corner Virgil.

Virgil felt sorry for the cetacean biologist. He must remember to talk to him at a later time. Once he had finished processing today himself.

The whole experience was otherworldly. He didn’t quite know how to express it. It was as if the music had shape and form, his mind’s eye producing a kaleidoscope of imagery sculpted by sound.

And it meant something.

He knew it meant something, but he couldn’t decipher most of it. Bits were missing, the shapes fragmented, but he did feel the emotion that travelled with it. Multidimensional, the song communicated in a way he wasn’t capable of fully comprehending.

“Virgil, you should go to bed.”

Scott again.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“C’mon.” A hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Mmm...” Musical shapes danced in his mind and he realised there was colour. Greens, violets and yellows. Patches torn from an unseen spectrum. It was frustrating to not be able to pull it all into focus and understanding.

“Virgil?”

It would be interesting to try and paint. Yes, maybe that would be a way to understand it better. He visualised forming those shapes with pencil and brush. Three dimensions...no four. They shifted according to time.

Hell. So confusing.

But he could try.

“Virgil? You with me?”

Huh? He blinked and looked up at concerned blue eyes.

A sigh. “Just thinking.”

“I can see that. You need rest.”

He did, yes, but he also needed to think, to doodle, to work it all out. He caught Scott’s eyes. “Sit with me?”

A blink. “Of course.”

There followed farewells, Virgil pre-occupied throughout. At some point Mel kissed him on the cheek, but he barely registered it. Sam said something but was interrupted by Gordon. Virgil felt completely spaced and somewhere at the back of his thoughts he was embarrassed at his lack of response and manners.

Scott didn’t leave his side.

Gordon made excuses and apologies.

John was speaking to Eos...which meant their guests must have left. Man, he was out of it. Brain overload.

Alan had concerned blue eyes so much like their eldest brother.

The yacht’s engine starting up scared the living shit out of him. It shattered his mindscape with aural static, those careful shapes disintegrating.

“Hey, hey, Virgil. It’s okay.” Scott had his hand on his arm again.

Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest. A blink. A calming breath. A moment. He forced calm. “I’m good.”

He was, really. He just had a lot to think about.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“I’m sure.” But there was something he did want to do. “Come up front with me?”

Scott frowned at him.

“I just want to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair.” And get as far away from the engine as possible.

“Sure.” A pause. “But you’re sitting down.”

“Sure.” Virgil pushed himself to his feet.

They found a niche on the bow, enough to sit comfortably with some back support. They could see Gordon frowning at them from the cockpit.

Virgil caught the thought and had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Apparently, he was as much a flyboy as his big brother.

The boat was moving at a reasonable speed, Gordon, no doubt, wanting to get home fast due to the day’s events. That and now they were behind schedule and had quite a long, final stretch to make it before sunset.

Raoul was little more than a smudge on the horizon already. Virgil stared at it a moment before turning and facing the wide ocean ahead of them that ultimately would contain their island. Wind streamed through his hair.

“It will be good to be home.”

Scott didn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”

Virgil snorted. “Missing your ‘bird?”

“Missing land.”

“You spent last night on land.”

“Not the right land.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at that. “You seemed quite happy with at least one of the inhabitants.”

That prompted a smile on his big brother’s face. “Fishing for details?”

“Some. Not too much.”

Scott turned to him and shrugged. “It was fun. Mel is an interesting woman.”

Half a smile. “I’ll give her that much.” A curious eyebrow. “See it going any further?”

Scott’s expression was thoughtful. “Maybe.”

“Invite her over for Christmas.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Why not?”

“Late notice.”

“You have a Thunderbird.”

That thoughtfulness increased and a slight smile curved his brother’s lips.

“Invite Sam and Liam while you’re at it. We owe them cake. Alan ate theirs.” And Virgil owed Sam an explanation.

That frown returned. “You sure?”

“Sure. The more the merrier.” A snort. “Hell, have them over for a few days. It will give Melissa the chance to check out our ecosystem, she’ll be ecstatic.” A pause and then quietly. “It will give me a chance to speak to Sam about...” A fractured image came to mind and he realised it meant whale. An indrawn breath. Oh god. One concept. He understood something. He could not reproduce it. It wasn’t just sound. It was something else. A combination of visual and auditory. How? His throat froze up. Hell.

“Virgil?”

“I...” The concept tantalised him. His fingers itched for his pencils, his paints and his piano all at once. How?

How?

He swallowed and realised his heart rate was up again. “I...need my tablet...and stylus.”

Scott stared at him a moment before standing up and making his way aft.

It was a sign of how preoccupied Virgil was that his tablet appeared almost immediately in his hands.

He didn’t hesitate. His fingers pulled up his drawing app, his stylus connected with the surface and lines appeared.

Lines. Curves.

Shapes.

Interwoven.

No.

Not right.

The stylus squeaked across the screen.

More lines. More shapes.

The screen became black with them, so he added colour. It splashed and bled across the lines.

“Virgil.”

It still wasn’t right.

Frustration stirred and he groaned at the image.

A blink.

Sound.

He scratched more lines, but the moment of inspiration faded.

He couldn’t do it.

“Virgil.”

It wasn’t a single dimension. It was many. Visual, sound and...and...

Emotion.

How?

It all came back to that question.

He let the tablet and stylus drop, clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his face with his hands.

How the hell could he communicate emotion?

-o-o-o-

John squirrelled himself away. Eos had contacted him to give her report, but there was something in her tone that told him not to take it on an open line.

So, he waited until Gordon got the boat moving and Scott had corralled Virgil before retreating to his cabin for some privacy.

“Did you receive a clear enough signal?”

“Affirmative, John. The upgrade to Virgil’s comms worked perfectly. I am confident I received the full spectrum of the whale’s emissions.”

“Any conclusions?”

“Tentative. And at least an explanation why Virgil is so relaxed in their presence.”

John frowned. “Show me.” The tablet in his hand, the same waterproof device he had clung to as they were tossed from the boat, lit up and a hologram hung above it.

It was a series of graphs mapping sound waves, several equations scrolled down one side. The frown on John’s face deepened. That was some seriously complex math. “Talk to me, Eos.”

“Multiple carrier waves interact synergistically to create other waves which also carry data. This is truly a multidimensional sound.” The waves on several of the graphs split up to show their originating structures.

“Can you decipher a language?”

“Not a simple language, no. Initial assessment leads me to believe this is at least partially a graphical language. The mathematics reveal vector information is part of the transmission.”

John’s eyes widened. “Any interpretation?”

The graphs disappeared to reveal fragmented moving lines and clouded shape. “These images are calculated using a section of song the mother whale was singing to Virgil.”

“Can you see a pattern?”

“Not presently, however, I am still analysing. One aspect to be considered is this...”

A second grouping of graphics appeared beside the main display. This was smaller and lacked colour, the lines far more fragmented and the whole composition was fogged with what appeared to be static. “What?”

“That is Virgil’s vocalisation while he was in contact with the whale, if it is run through the same mathematical algorithm.” The two graphics were suddenly overlaid together. Virgil’s section fit like a piece of a puzzle into the larger composition, as if it was an unfinished section awaiting colour.

“How? Why is Virgil picking this up, but the rest of us are not?”

The graphs returned along with one new one. “I retrieved Virgil’s EEG readings from his last head injury.” Lines lit up in red on several of the graphs. “Several of the carrier waves create a binaural beat. The result is that at least part of the whale’s communication is nestled in frequencies that resonate with human brainwave activity. Virgil’s, in particular, appear to align well. I hypothesise that this facilitates his receptivity.”

John stared at the lines denoting Virgil’s delta wave production. A flick of his fingers and the graph overlaid that section of the whale’s vocal output. Delta waves were well known for their calming effect and their influence on sleep. It would definitely explain his brother’s thrall and lethargy during each encounter.

The red lines glared at him.

An exhaled breath. “So, no chance of a translation?”

“Not any time soon. The transmission is extremely complex and I have yet to reveal all of the carrier signals, much less decipher the entire data stream.”

Eos fell silent a moment and John stared at the graphs, watching them move in rhythm with each other. “Why hasn’t this been discovered before?”

“Recording equipment. Of the recordings I have examined, only three have managed to record enough detail to even hint at the complexity. Today’s samples are of the highest resolution ever taken. Further clarity would be achieved with multiple recordings.”

Which meant more encounters. The sight of Virgil singing on the whale was eerie and unsettling. He may have held back Scott from going to Virgil’s assistance, but the truth was he had to hold himself back just as much.

“Is it causing Virgil any harm?”

Eos didn’t answer immediately and it gave John the chance to ramp up his concern just a notch.

“I cannot locate any medical effects beyond a tendency towards inducing sleep due to some of the frequencies involved. I would recommend further monitoring, however.”

“I agree.” An indrawn breath. “Thank you, Eos.” He blinked and realised exactly what his daughter had just done. His eyes widened just a little. “Continue analysis. This is an important scientific discovery and you have done some excellent work.”

“Really?” Her voice was ever so hopeful, ever so young.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to working on this with you.” There was definitely work to be done and soon.

“Thank you, John.”

“No, Eos, thank you.”

Her giggle bounced across comms. Sometimes so old, yet always ever so young. Her youth was always surprising as was her need for guidance. “Could you please send me Virgil’s vitals, both during the encounter and now?”

“Yes, John.” More numbers appeared above his tablet. Fortunately, they were all healthy numbers, though Virgil’s heart rate was up somewhat. A flick of his fingers and Scott’s vitals appeared beside Virgil’s. Both brothers’ heart rates echoed each other.

John would have felt like he was spying on his family, but he did it so often for reassurance on Five that it now barely registered. Another flick of his fingers and he directed Five to focus on A Little Lightning. He found his eldest brothers on the bow of the yacht. Virgil appeared to be drawing on his tablet.

“He is well, John. I can see no after effects from his encounter.”

John wondered if he could coerce his brother into an EEG exam when they made it home. Roping Scott in would probably manage it, but the stress on both of them would be considerable and he hesitated to aggravate either of them.

Perhaps further down the track, or if Virgil gave him any reason for concern.

God, he hoped not.

A sigh. He had probably jinxed himself last night acknowledging the vacation they were on. Since he woke up to Virgil’s snoring early that morning, things had changed. Sure, surfing with Gordon had been fun, but seeing Scott stressing over Virgil on the beach and the events that followed right up until they returned to A Little Lightning had been anything but relaxing.

One of Virgil’s piano sonatas started playing over his tablet ever so softly.

Despite himself, he smiled. “I’m fine, Eos.”

“You’re worrying again. This is not good for your hair production.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Several sources state that stress can disable the pigment production in human hair follicles, resulting in white, often termed ‘grey’, hairs. I believe this is a negatively viewed characteristic and I have noted that your elder brothers have encountered this issue already. It causes distress, therefore it should be prevented.”

Another blink. “Both of my older brothers have dark hair. Grey becomes very apparent in contrast.”

“It will turn your hair pink.”

“What?” This conversation was ridiculous. “It is a natural ageing process. There is very little that can be done about it.” A breath. “I’m not vain, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately. “But your brothers are?”

“My brothers are my brothers, Eos.”

“Well, that makes little sense.”

“Just accept them as they are.”

“Is it possible to accept them any other way?”

“No, not really.”

“Then that statement is redundant.”

“Eos.”

“Yes?”

Frivolous distraction, Eos-style. She had become quite adept at it. Moving his thoughts off worrying topics. A sigh. “Thank you, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but then...

“Did you know Virgil dyes his hair?”

-o-o-o-

Scott watched his brother draw somewhat manically on his tablet. The resultant art was far from what the artist usually produced. This was all sharp lines and angles followed by random blob shapes. At first it was all in pencil, but then Virgil started adding colours. There was no pattern, it was all haphazard and, worse, it appeared to be aggravating him.

“Virgil.”

His brother groaned in frustration, his eyebrows creasing his face in half and swallowing the scar on his forehead.

“Virgil.”

But he suddenly stopped, realisation on his face morphing into disappointment and more frustration.

The tablet and stylus slipped from Virgil’s hands and Scott was hard pressed to catch them.

But he did.

Virgil’s eyes were scrunched shut and he rubbed his face with his hands.

Scott glanced at the mess on the tablet and shoved it to one side, turning to his brother. “Virgil, talk to me.”

“I can’t.” It was small and hoarse.

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t...express, explain...trying to understand...it’s a mess...”

Okay, this was well outside his realm, but he knew Virgil. He slipped off his seat and knelt in front him. Gently he pulled those hands away from his brother’s face to reveal worried brown eyes. “Stop. Take a breath.”

Virgil stared at him a moment before the soft command was obeyed and he drew in air. Those eyes closed briefly and his brother’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“I ruined it again. I’ve stressed you out.”

“This time, I don’t think you had much say in it. Mamma Whale was very determined to say hello.” A small smile. “I think you have a music fan.”

Virgil snorted softly and Scott knew he’d broken through even if just a little. “She definitely wanted to talk. I just wish I knew what she wanted to say.”

“You picked up something, though, didn’t you?”

A quiet sigh. “She was happy and surprised.” Virgil looked up and stared out into the ocean, but Scott could tell he wasn’t seeing the waves.

He wondered what he was thinking.

“How could you tell?”

The frown returned. “I don’t know.” A pause caught in thought. “The sound makes me feel? The sound is...everything.”

Virgil stopped speaking, lost again to whatever was in his head.

Scott swallowed and tried a different tactic. “I think you made a mistake.”

Brown eyes snapped to him immediately. “What?”

“You should have asked Mel out. Lost opportunity, bro.”

Virgil stared at him. “What?”

“She had the hots for you, Virg, and you ignored her.”

“Last time Raoul erupted? She tried to climb me like a tree. Kay had to drag her out of the cockpit.”

It was Scott’s turn to stare. “Really?”

“She was very exuberant in her thanks.”

Scott smiled. “She knows what she likes.” And yes, admittedly, she was very good at climbing, after all Scott was taller. His smile widened.

Virgil’s stare intensified until plain, straight human communication got the message across and his brother groaned. “God, Scott, TMI.”

Total innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. The image is radiating off your skin.”

Scott sniggered.

Distraction achieved.

“Well, I did say you lost an opportunity.”

“That’s fine, Jungle Jim, she’s all yours.”

Scott shrugged. He could always hope. She certainly knew how to press all his buttons. “Still think we should have her over for Christmas?”

“Yeah, Gordon will love it.”

“What about you?”

“I need to speak to Sam.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” A breath. “Just take it easy.”

His brother nodded and returned to staring out at the ocean. “It will be good to get home.”

Scott stood up slowly and sat back down beside his brother. “Yeah, it will.”

So good.

-o-o-o-

“Are we there yet?” Alan’s voice was particularly whiny, no doubt, specifically designed to irritate.

Gordon turned away from the helm to look at him. “Do you see an island in front of us?”

Alan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nope.”

“There’s your answer.”

It had been quiet on the bridge for the last few hours. Gordon was grateful for the time to think. A Little Lightning cut through the water ever so smoothly. It was satisfying to see the swell pass by knowing that they were one wave closer to home.

Gordon loved being out on the ocean. It was his native element. But at the moment he longed for the safety of Tracy Island. That last encounter with the whales had its own sense of wonder, but until he understood exactly what the effect was on his older brother, he wasn’t entirely comfortable.

It was weird and unnerving.

And it worried him.

“They been out there long?” Alan was staring at the two men sitting on the bow of the boat.

“Yeah, couple of hours at least.”

“Do you think Virgil is okay?”

No. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

Alan eyed him. “I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need protecting. Since when have you become one of them?” He pointed at his eldest brothers.

Gordon sighed. “I’m not. It’s just...I don’t know, okay? It was weird and amazing and I need to talk to him and he was spaced out and his singing was...”

“Weird?”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a moment, but Gordon knew it wouldn’t be long.

Sure enough.

“Do you think Virg can talk to whales?”

“I don’t know, Alan.” It was said on one long exhale.

“He communicated something, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know, okay?” And that was the problem. There was so much they didn’t know. Gordon was itching to get into the in-depth literature, to find out more and fill the gaps in his knowledge so he could help his brother. He would be speaking to Sam as soon as possible, but for the moment, the priority was getting Virgil home.

“Some vacation.” It was said with a pout.

Gordon sighed and shoved on the autopilot before turning to his younger brother. “Alan, out with it.”

“What?”

“What’s bugging you.”

“I thought that was obvious. Virgil going zombie and singing to a whale is enough, don’t you think? As if appendicitis wasn’t dramatic already.”

Gordon stared at Alan. “He is going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You just said so!”

“He sang to a whale, Alan. They are one of the gentlest creatures on the planet. If he was going to choose a weird conversation partner, he chose well.”

“But you don’t know what it did to him!”

“It didn’t do anything to him.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Alan-“

“Don’t lie to me!” The words shot across the bridge and slapped Gordon in the face.

Voice calm and quiet and not a little hurt. “I have never lied to you, Alan.”

Blue fire glared at him. “You haven’t? Not even to protect the littlest one? Scared I might burst into tears.”

Gordon stared at his little brother. “What is it?”

“Have you?!”

“No! I’ve always told you the truth. You know that!” He let out an aggravated breath. “What is wrong, Allie?”

“What do you think? First you, then Virgil, and now this!”

“What?!” Him? Virgil? Oh...shit. “Virgil is okay. Hell, I’m okay. Allie, we are all fine.”

“That’s what he keeps saying!” Alan shoved a finger in Virgil’s direction. “He’s always fine, even when he’s not. You’re all the same. Big tough guys, nothing is ever wrong. You could be bleeding to death and you’d ‘be fine’. What is wrong with admitting you’re hurt? What is so wrong with being hurt that you have to hide it?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Well, you know what? I’m scared and I’m sick of hiding it. Virgil nearly fell out of the damned sky with his infected appendix. It could have killed him. And now he’s scaring everyone with this whale thing.” A harshly indrawn breath. “Don’t tell me Scott’s not worried. I’m not stupid.”

Two steps and Gordon was in front of his brother, his hands landing on shoulders that were just that touch higher than his own and tighter strung than Virgil’s piano. “Allie, he’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it is true.”

Something unintelligible and Alan was wrapped around him like a limpet. Gordon held his little brother. It was unusual and alarming. Alan usually went to Scott for comfort. Gordon was for pranks and cohorting. “It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to be worried. You can cry if you need to.”

“I’m not going to cry!” Alan pulled away and glared up at Gordon.

“What?”

“Now you think I’m the baby that needs to bawl on your shoulder?”

“What?!” The hell was going on? Some conscious part of his brain was aware of the yacht’s engine, the high speed they were travelling and the fact autopilot on water was vastly different from the sky and he really should be paying attention. But Alan needed...something. “Allie, you’ve lost me. What do you want?!”

“I want Virgil to be okay. I want you to be okay.”

“We are okay!”

“Then stop scaring me!”

“I didn’t scare you!”

“You....you terrified me, Gordon. You terrified all of us.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still hurt.”

“Aww, Allie...” What could he do?

“And now, here you are ‘okay’, and it could happen again, and...” A shaky swallow. “I’m scared, okay? You’re fine. Virgil’s fine. But you’re not, and...I’m not okay...okay?”

This time it was Gordon wrapping his arms around his not so little brother. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

Muffled into Gordon’s shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“No.” But he should have realised it was still messing with his little brother. Alan was the least experienced of them all. Gordon had seen things, done things, things that hopefully Alan would never have to experience. Quietly. “I think Virgil is a little freaked out. I don’t think he understands what happened much more than we do. But we are going to find out. I’m going to speak to Sam. We’re going to do some research and we will find out why the song affected Virgil the way it did. But he is okay, Alan. Tracy’s honour. A little shaken up. A little worried. But he is okay. We’ll work through this like we always do.”

His brother’s arms tightened around him just that little bit more, but Alan didn’t say anything.

A rustle of fabric and Gordon looked up to see John standing in the doorway staring at them with a hint of worry in his eyes.

“John?”

Alan startled and pulled away immediately. Turquoise followed his every move.

A slow blink and John stepped onto the bridge. “Eos is deciphering the song. We have a good idea as to why Virgil reacted the way he did.” It was said calmly and factually for such a great discovery.

“You do?” Alan found his voice first.

Those eyes latched onto Gordon’s. “We do.”

The helm beeped.

A blink and Gordon was back at the wheel, scanning their position. A mass of volcanic rock and tropical reef appeared on navigational sensors.

A familiar chunk of rock and reef.

Tracy Island.

Home.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Five.

[tsaomengde]

Some Musings:

As I play again through Ghost of Tsushima, one of the most engaging open-world games of the past ten years (up there with Witcher 3 and Horizon: Zero Dawn), with one of the best stories in quite a while, I find myself drawn back to the whole now-mostly-settled controversy about "can games be art?"  We have, by and large, agreed "yes."  So I find myself reminiscing about the first game that inspired a real emotional response in me beyond "whee I have a lightsaber" or "hurr hurr things fall over."

The year was 2001.  Dad had just passed.  I don't remember how I came into possession of it - I think it was included as a freebie with a video card Mom bought - but I got this game that had come out last year, called "Deus Ex."  You play a nanotech-augmented man named JC Denton, working in the post-apocalyptic cyberpunk future for UNATCO, a paramilitary police force arm of the United Nations.  The world is being ravaged by a disease called the Grey Death, and there's only one cure, and it's only being given to the rich due to limited supply.  Your job is to get back a shipment of the cure from the NSF, a domestic terrorist organization that's stolen a bunch of the stuff.

That's the first, like, four to ten hours of the game, depending on how long you spend sneaking around and reading everyone's mail.  It culminates in you tracking down the NSF leader, a man named Juan Lebedev, only to find your brother Paul waiting for you in Lebedev's hangar!  Paul is with the NSF!  But why?  He insists you go talk to Lebedev.

Now, up until this point, you've had a pretty straightforward path.  Granted, you've been able to tackle the challenges in front of you in a number of ways - stealthily, with brute force, by talking and bribing your way through stuff - but you've mostly been going from point A to point B.  But now, you get onto Lebedev's plane.  You confront him.  He surrenders.  You tell him you're taking him in.  And then your partner, Anna Navarre, an older-generation cyborg, tells you to assassinate the guy.  Kill an unarmed prisoner.

And then the game just sat there.

I didn't know what to do.  For the first time in a video game, I'd been presented with an actual moral dilemma.  Jedi Knight had this thing where if you indiscriminately murdered civilians, you would get Dark Side points, and not doing that would give you Light Side points, but that's not a moral dilemma, that's "which set of Force powers and game ending do you want."

He's the guy you've been chasing, he's somehow turned your brother, but he's surrendered and unarmed.  Your partner is telling you to kill him.  But he says he knows why Paul betrayed your agency.

You can walk away, and Anna will kill him once you leave.  You can kill him yourself, and Anna will praise you.  Or you can kill Anna, and learn a *lot* more about the real shit going down behind the scenes in the game.

I'm prepared to argue that, 20 years later, all of the games that are obsessed with player choice and agency still owe Deus Ex, and specifically this scene, *everything.*  Here's two different versions of the conversation with Lebedev, one where JC only kills Anna most of the way through (warning, she explodes into some low-polygon meaty chunks), and another, where the player knows she's going to spawn in after the first part of the conversation, so they set a mine on the wall outside (starts at 3:20) and kill her that way.  She never gets a word in.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mdc41byknCc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZO8DET8-vBk

I still remember this part of the game, 19 years after playing it for the first time, in perfect detail.  I tried to kill Anna, she whooped my ass, so I loaded a quick-save after she told me to kill Lebedev, planted a mine on the wall outside, shot her once to get her to chase me, and she ran into the mine and died.

Much, much later in the game, you're brought to the HQ of the Illuminati, who are a real thing in this world.  You can walk in, talk to the leader, Morgan Everett, and walk back out to advance the plot.  But if you steal a key out of his laboratory, and find the hidden door behind the mirror in his bedroom, that in no way are you expected or required to find, you stumble across a chamber where he's keeping the previous leader in cryo-suspension to preserve his health.  You also find a prototype AI, named Morpheus, and have one of the most compelling conversations in the history of video games.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1b-bijO3uEw

Included are such gems as:

"The unplanned organism is a question asked by Nature and answered by death.  You are another kind of question with another kind of answer."

"The need to be observed and understood was once satisfied by God.  Now we can implement the same functionality with data-mining algorithms."

And one of my all-time favorites, "God was a dream of good government."

To repeat this point: this thing is hidden behind a locked hidden door concealed past a mirror.  It's not *hard* to find, and by this point you're used to exploring every nook and cranny looking for stuff, but the developers were *totally okay* with the possibility of you just la-dee-dah-ing your way through this building and never experiencing this.  That makes the whole experience that much more amazing.  Just like with Lebedev, I still remember finding Morpheus and talking to him almost perfectly, 19 years later.

Thanks for joining me in my musings.  I don't have much of a point, here.  I just like sharing random thoughts after midnight.

[vsj2000]

A game of Chess

As a medical student, an important and memorable part of my journey has been to try and understand the complex cocktail of emotions brewing inside a patient’s mind. Experiences are the ink of the unwritten future. Indecisive. Unpredictable. We all have our stories, I’m sure you must too. We all face our own battles, our own demons. We are all afraid. 

I still remember when my grandfather was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer. It’s been almost a year now. In his prime, he was like Superman- A man of Steel. I mean literally, because he used to work at the Tata Steel factory in Jamshedpur. Now he can barely climb a flight of stairs without stopping to catch his breath. When we got the news, it was probably the most morose and depressing one we’d ever heard. I mean, not that we’d never known anybody who had cancer, but this time it was my very own ‘Acharya’ (meaning guru).

Fear guides our survival. It is an innate algorithm with an unparalleled evolutionary significance. It is also the one emotion we’re most afraid to experience. Just a few months ago, I was working on Palliative Care at the Command Hospital in Pune. While on the surface, the patients seemed very accepting about the nature of their condition, little did I know that the gateway to their cellar of emotions was just one question away- Are you afraid of dying?

This seemingly obvious question opened the gates to an almost unexplored dimension of thoughts, fears and emotions. People never want to talk about death. Death in itself has become a whispered illness. It makes them feel vulnerable. It makes them feel human. It is when I learned that it is not our existence that scares us, it is our absence.  Interacting with patients, physicians and social workers, I learnt that fear is a direct manifestation of expectations. The more you have to lose, the greater the fear of death becomes. 

A patient asked me -”Is death painful? Does it hurt?” How do you answer that? 

On the other side of this spectrum, you’ll find the carefree patient. Like when I found Anjali, who was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma at the time. The first time I met her, she was watching stand up comedy on her phone while on chemotherapy. When I asked her what about her condition troubles her the most, she asked me to take a look across the room. I saw a few patients sleeping, a few just gazing at the hospital ceiling while laying in bed and more than a few dull, troubled faces. She then said- “These people were patients much before they had cancer. They regret  their past, worry about their future and ruin their present.” Today is a gift, that’s why it’s called the present- This was her motto. (Then we talked about Kung fu Panda :p)

In conversation with Colonel(Retd) NS Nyayapathi- Founder of Vishranti Palliative Care Centre (Care India Medical Society)

On the spiritual front, I gained rather interesting insights. Why do bad things happen to good people? Is God just and fair? Or is he all powerful?

On asking these questions, I realized that the world is divided into two belief systems. One belief is that God is fair and he loves his children and would protect them from all harm. But still, innocent people suffer.  This implies that God is not absolute. Patients of this belief system still redeemed their faith in God and believed that suffering was God’s way to test their virtue. 

The other belief is that God is all powerful and whatever happens is a manifestation of his will. Therefore, if this is true then God can never be fair because bad things do happen to good people and God is to blame.  Patients of the latter belief often became atheists and lost faith in God; or so I have witnessed.

AFMC Cadets at Vishranti Palliative Care Centre, Pune

Learning the power of human touch

I couldn’t help but ponder about the striking similarities between the art of conversation and a game of chess. I mean, reading out from questionnaires doesn’t get you this far. You have to improvise. It is an art of patience.  And like in a game of chess, there are also 3 phases to a conversation with a patient- The opening, middlegame and the endgame.

 The opening is where you try and establish a rapport with the patient. Patients usually don’t like talking about how many times they puked, coughed or whether their pain is a 6 or a 7. Honestly, they get bored. So, when I saw 10 year old Vishnu who was diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia(ALL), playing around with his Superman action figure, I naturally spent half an hour trying to convince him that Batman could kick Superman’s butt. In the end however, he ended up convincing me why Superman is the greatest superhero of all time :)

 Some openings are better than the others. I remember asking a patient how he was feeling and he distinctly replied-”If I would be feeling well, I wouldn’t be in a hospital.” Pretty obvious don’t you think?

The middlegame is a much more progressive ground. It is rather important to lend a good ear at this point. While the opening decides the degree of compliance of the patient, the middlegame is all about building up on that trust and trying to understand the patient’s thoughts and concerns. It is at this juncture that a clinical evaluation of the patient would prove to be most fruitful.

 Hope is a wonderful thing. False hope- not so much. This is my endgame lesson. Probably the most precious gift from my experience with cancer patients was when one of them held my hand and said-”Thank you for giving me hope. I feel less scared now.” These seemingly plain, simple words hold a deeper meaning. They are inherent with the realization that just a small act could bring great meaning to someone’s life. But false promises are the most fatal form of expectations. While empathy is a great asset in communication, its extent must be well guarded by professionalism, honesty and truth.

The art of giving 

Part of the journey is the end. Mine has just begun.

सर्वे सन्तु निरामयाः। - May all be free from disease. 

The motto of Armed Forces Medical College, Pune.

  Learning to spread smiles

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “ plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)