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springsaladgaming · 3 years

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Follower Milestone

Hey there, all! I recently passed 400 followers, so I thought it would be nice to gift you all some writing!

I had a particular short story that I wanted to gift when we got here, but I’m not entirely happy with it and want to rewrite it.

So, instead, I thought it would be fun to share the predecessor of Ninelives. For those of you who don’t already know, Ninelives was adapted from a short story that I wrote a decade ago for university. It is about a young man who is struggling with depression and, in a failed suicide attempt, learns a small thing about his parents that could potentially evolve into something explosive.

When I started writing this short story, I realized that I wanted to turn it into a novella. The main character would have met someone with a very Carpe Diem attitude and made the shift into a healthier headspace while dealing with his family problems. The overarching theme of the story was the way that little secrets add up. It was always my plan to go back to it once I was done with school, but then real life happened a little too hard (shitty job, pretty severe depression, and some family issues). I never touched it again.

My memory is pretty famously bad about certain things (due to I think ADHD and anxiety). But, of all the short stories that I wrote at uni, I remembered this one like the back of my hand. When I started writing Ninelives, I technically still didn’t touch the old story. I didn’t need to look back at it to remember the overall narrative. I just went at it. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I found the old external drive that I used to store all of my work on and dug up this short story once again.

I think you’ll find the similarities between this short story and Chapter 1 of Ninelives pretty quickly. Dad is kind of an asshole, Mom is pretty dismissive of the main character, and the brother seems to be the only one who cares. Ninelives is also carrying on the theme of secrets in a way. I was actually a little surprised by how similar the two still are, even though they are now different works with a decade of time between them.

This short story is a decade old, thus it hasn’t been edited or revised in the same amount of time, so read it with that in mind. Also, just to be on the safe side...

CONTENT WARNINGS: discussion of suicide, drug abuse/overdose, cigarette use, verbal abuse

And now, without further ado...

Jamie’s ass was beginning to stick to the porcelain tub, and it was getting to him. As if that weren’t enough, the paper sign taped over his crotch created a pocket of hot air that made his dick stick to his leg. The sign read HOW’S THIS FOR AN EXIT, but Jamie wasn’t going anywhere, and that’s what bothered him most of all. He’d downed his father’s bottle of blood pressure meds, but nothing was happening. At least, nothing seemed to be happening, except that Jamie was now hot and sweaty. He had no idea what ODing on blood pressure meds did, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t this. He was even more sure that he wasn’t dying.

This would go down in history as the most anticlimactic suicide ever.

Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty. An hour. Jamie felt some discomfort—a little sick to his stomach, the porcelain pressing against his boney ass—that was it. Now he was bored and naked, and someone would probably come looking for him soon. Probably.

His brother, Graham, was the one who called up to him. “Hey, Jammy,” he said. “Dinner’s ready. Get down here.”

Jamie spent a good five minutes after that staring at the ceiling, which was covered in a layer of grime from years of shower steam. Either that or the years during Jamie’s childhood when he’d come in here to smoke. His parents had never looked for him here. That hadn’t changed now that it was the spare bathroom instead of Graham and Jamie’s.

But Graham knew Jamie’s hiding spots and came looking for him. Jamie heard Graham call for him in the hall for a few minutes, maybe less. Then Graham knocked on the door. “Jammers, dinner. What are you doing in there?”

Jamie hadn’t locked the door. That would have been too dramatic. Now it was a mistake, and Graham walked in just as Jamie got out of the tub and crumpled up his suicide note. The family always seemed to be catching Jamie with his pants down, just never quite so literally.

Graham didn’t seem surprised or the least bit embarrassed. Jamie felt one of the two emotions, though he wasn’t sure which, and it wasn’t so much over his nakedness as it was the other circumstances. Graham crossed his arms and said, “Taking a bath?” He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“No, I wasn’t jacking off,” Jamie said. “Just being here makes me limp.” The fact that Jamie hated coming home wasn’t news to Graham. Jamie thought that would be enough to end the conversation, but Graham’s eyes flashed to something behind him, and Jamie remembered he’d left the empty prescription bottle on the side of the tub.

“What were you doing, Jamie?” Graham asked.

Jamie grabbed the bottle and tossed it in the garbage along with his suicide note—or maybe it was better to call it his ex-suicide note. It would be the only ex he’d ever had. He grabbed a towel from the wall to cover himself and said, “Remind me to tell Dad that Mom’s been giving him placebos.”

“Jamie—”

“Gonna let me get dressed for dinner or what?” Jamie said.

Graham let Jamie pass but followed him down the hall to his old room. Jamie packed clothes in his backpack instead of leaving some here like Graham did. It took him a few seconds to get the shirt he was looking for. He could feel Graham’s eyes on him. He gave up on pulling out his nice pants and put on the jeans he’d worn earlier that day. Graham was getting suspicious, Jamie knew. But it didn’t matter why he was staring; it made Jamie self-conscious of just about everything under the sun. He fumbled with the button on his pants for a good few minutes—almost broke the thing off—before he got it. When he turned back to the door, Graham was still staring.

They made eye contact and Graham asked again. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jamie said. He tried to make his way downstairs, but Graham was blocking the door. This time, he didn’t move.

“Jamie, you’re scaring me,” Graham said.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I knew they were placebos?”

“Did you?”

Jamie pushed his way past Graham. Graham grabbed Jamie for a second and then let go, as if unsure what he was supposed to do once he had him. Jamie didn’t have the answers either, wasn’t sure what he’d do if he their positions were reversed. They would never be reversed, though. Graham’s life was perfect; suicide wasn’t even an option for him. He had no idea what it was like. Maybe that’s why he was silent now.

Once they were seated around the dinner table, it was almost as if it never happened. Their parents went on about their usual praise of Graham’s life, but not before ragging on Jamie about his. “Dinner has been at seven sharp every Saturday for the last fifteen years,” Margery said. “I don’t know why you can’t get that through your head.”

Jamie knew that. That’s why he’d chosen the time he did. “I lost track of time,” Jamie said. He didn’t say more; they were going to tear him apart either way.

“It’s those work hours of his,” Hugh said. “He has a different schedule every week. If you’d get a real job, you wouldn’t have that problem.” Hugh didn’t look up from his plate as he cut his meat. He always ate the meat first, but not before cutting it into perfect little cubes.

I have a real job, Jamie might’ve said, but they’d had this conversation before. Hugh meant a salary job. Flipping burgers didn’t count unless Jamie was making more than twenty an hour.

“Speaking of work,” Margery said, “How did your last settlement go, Graham?” Margery went for her veggies first. She didn’t eat meat and only let Hugh at dinner, though Jamie suspected he snuck it during his lunch.

“It went well,” Graham said. He’d barely touched his food, but Hugh looked up from his plate at that moment, and Graham dug in.

“You’re not usually so tight-lipped,” Hugh said.

Graham kept his eyes on his plate. “It’s pretty easy to reach a settlement when the couple agrees on it before they even come to see me,” he said.

Graham was a divorce lawyer, carrying on the family tradition. Sort of. Their grandfather had been a judge and a prosecutor before that. Hugh was also a prosecutor. Graham’s decision to become a divorce lawyer had been met with a little resistance, but Hugh readily accepted it once Graham proved it made a lot of money. Everyone’s getting divorced these days, Graham had said. I’ll never be out of the job.

“That’s how prevalent your brother is, Jamie,” Hugh said. “Divorcees go to see him even when they don’t need his help.”

Jamie kept his face in his plate and poked at his food with his fork. What Hugh really meant was, “Why can’t you be successful like your brother?” It was the same game every Saturday; that’s why Jamie hated coming here. But it meant a free meal, even if Jamie had usually lost his appetite by the time he got it. Besides, if he didn’t come, that would be just one more disappointment.

“Jamie will figure it out,” Graham said. This was his way of taking Jamie’s side. Usually.

“As soon as he figures how to pay his rent on time,” Hugh said.

Will you please stop talking about me like I’m not here, Jamie wanted to say.

“You’ve paid this month’s rent, I hope,” Hugh said.

“I paid it last month,” Jamie said. He’d borrowed some money from Graham to do so with the promise of paying it back once he found a new roommate. The last one packed up and left without a word. Jamie's parents didn't know about the money, and he wasn't about to tell them now.

“You need to learn how to get ahead in all areas of your life, not just your bills,” Hugh said.

“Jamie,” Margery said, “get your chin off the table.”

Jamie felt like he was eleven again.

Jamie went outside for a smoke when dinner was over. He didn’t smoke anymore, but he kept reserves for these occasions. Few Saturdays passed without a cigarette. He usually kept with the old ritual, smoked on the edge of the tub with the bathroom door closed and the window open. After today, he avoided that bathroom., and not only because it embarrassed him. Graham was like a hawk for the rest of the night. He didn’t take his eyes off Jamie, even when they were cleaning the dishes. He’d gone so far as to clean all the knives himself. Jamie couldn’t lay a hand on them.

Graham was outside with Jamie, too, hovering over his shoulder like Hugh used to do when Jamie was a child. “You still smoke,” Graham said.

“Only after I’m well-cooked by the parents,” Jamie said.

“Smoking will kill you, you know,” Graham said. He shifted his stance. “Why not just smoke two packs a day?”

“Because so far the only life goal I’ve met is not getting cancer.”

“We’re switching rooms tonight.”

“Why?”

Graham took Jamie’s cigarette and tossed it into the gravel. “My room doesn’t have a lock,” Graham said.

“Oh, please,” Jamie said. “I didn’t lock the bathroom door, did I?”

“Thank god for that.”

“What does it matter?” Jamie said. “Dad will kill me when he finds that bottle in the trash anyway.”

“Let’s go inside,” Graham said.

“I didn’t get to finish my cigarette.”

“Inside, now,” Graham said.

Jamie didn’t have time to move before Graham corralled him inside with a hand on his shoulder. When they came in, Margery was on the landing and Hugh was shouting at her from their bedroom. To Margery, Jamie and Graham must have looked like two brothers who’d just shared a special moment. It was some kind of special moment, but she didn’t pick up on the animosity and smiled down at them.

“What’s Dad shouting about?” Graham asked.

“He can’t find his medication,” Margery said. “I’m sure he just misplaced it. Wouldn’t be the first time. I assume you two are leaving early tomorrow?”

Graham nodded. “Actually, I’ve been talking to Jamie about moving in with him.”

“Oh?” Margery said.

Jamie echoed the oh so immediately that they almost said it at the same time.

“Yes,” Graham said. His fingers dug in to Jamie’s shoulder. “At least until he can find a new roommate.”

Margery smiled. “Maybe you can help him get his life on track,” she said.

“Something like that,” Graham said, and he shook Jamie’s shoulder.

Graham was true to his word and made Jamie take his room. He opened the doors wide and, instead of going to bed himself, sat and watched Jamie from across the hall.

“You have to drive in the morning,” Jamie said.

“You’ll drive,” Graham said.

“Not afraid I’ll crash the car?”

“No,” Graham said, “because then it would be a murder-suicide.”

“You’re not moving in with me,” Jamie said.

“Either I move in with you or I check you into a psyche ward on suicide watch.”

“The apartment is small.”

“Jamie, I lived in a smaller apartment through eight years of college,” Graham said. “I’ll manage.”

“You’re really going to watch me sleep?” Jamie asked.

“Get used to it,” Graham said. “From now on, I’ll have to watch you do a lot of things.”

In the morning, Graham was still watching. The two of them drove back to Denver in Graham’s SUV, and Graham started moving some of his things into Jamie’s apartment later that day.

#follower gift #short story

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thefoundationproject · 4 years

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Okay, I don’t know a lot about alphas, but the image my brain conjured up felt too funny not to share. So in the GAR alphas are kinda living legends that aren’t tied to a unit but go where they’re needed (maybe?idk where I got it from but I’m rolling w it) but it’s also common knowledge that alphas trained CCs. So maybe some casual sass from a CC while maybe not expected by onlookers, can be reasoned due to history. But imagen how Rex sassing 17 would look to people who don’t know his upbringing

How would it look? Let’s find out!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They don’t know what finally drops the jammer.

Fixer and Sten’ve been busy shorting every fusebox that’ll spark and packing flammables into anything that won’t on it’s own. If it won’t burn it will; if it’s grounded, it’s not; if it’s steady, it’s coming down faster than a tinny can holler ‘keep em away from the load bearers’. They’re just good like that.

Hell, Sharp’d be willing to bet rations against how long it’s been since those tremors under his boots were last natural. Damn the Seps for building down. Yeah, the Devil Dogs will run ‘em to ground anyway, but it’s always so much more work when you gotta dig them up out of their anthills first.

“If it was going to be easy,” the Alpha drawls and every Dog in range snaps attention their way. “They’d send nat-borns to do it.”

“Oya!” cheers Jark from nigh on the legend’s instep. Sharp thanks all the little gods the Alpha isn’t annoyed by him. Likes him, even, maybe. Likes them all, maybe, and it’s not any surprise that the Dogs ran a little hotter, a little harder this op.

The Dogs are only tucked up in this hidey because Alpha found it. On the map database in an SBD’s processor core.

That he ripped off the clanker-in-chief bare handed. Thing’s still embedded in the head chassis and Alpha feels no nevermind having the thing tucked under one arm while he navigates.

Damn legends, Alphas.

Ground rumbles under their boots and if it’s a quake or an overload, none of them can tell. They lost track of the cascading, sympathetic detonations ten kliks ago. The Dogs might have really gotten a bit out of glove this go-round, truth told.

The Alpha smirks Sharp’s way and he can’t find it in his heart to berate em. Let em play a bit, he thinks. Under Ozzie Or’dinii they never get to have fun except where they can sneak it. It’s good, to run with brass that can run with the Dogs. It’s better, when they run with brass that says ‘bring it down, gents’ and means mantle to mesosphere and everything in between.

It’s amazing to run with brass that can outrun em, that’ll rout an approaching line like they’re the last chore between him and chow while waiting for them to catch up.

However the Kaminiise brewed those Alphas, Sharp thinks, they had that recipe on lock.

There’s a grumble in the distance, up past the ridge to their rear that Sharp feels in his synth tooth. “Load up, move out,” the Alpha orders fractions of seconds before Sharp’s wrestled the words, because yeah, this hidey’s might not be a good idea much longer.

It’s amazing, the little ways you notice that even an Alpha’s brain clocks faster than baseline’s.

Devil Dogs are up and moving with only minimal mockery and nearly no scuffle. Not quite as rough as they would be if they were running alone, but not near as clacked in as when Ozzie’s possibly in the same system. The Alpha doesn’t care if the boys are boys as long as they do their jobs, but every last one of em are still bent on making the best impression.

Maybe if they’re real damn good, Alpha-17 will want to run with them again. If they’re real damn lucky, he’s looking for a squad. Not a man of em would choose to stay where they are, after all. First call, and it’s Major Ozzel who?

They’re up and moving, and some time between the shakes they start to feel and the squad breaking the dust barrier at the lip of the canyon, the jammers go down.

“Do you want to go back and try that again?”

Jammer goes down, comms come up and when they breach the lip their pickup is twirling neatly through the mine cloud overhead.

“Strike Team to Runner, can you repeat.”

There’s something a little odd about the Alpha’s perfectly professional tone, something a little dangerous about his perfectly pleasant face. The Dogs shuffle, a little at odds. The vod on comms radios back.

“I said ‘do you want to go back and try that again’,” he repeats. “In case you thought you didn’t look impressive enough.”

Sharp knows that face the Alpha’s making now: that’s annoyance. Who the hell does the pilot think he is?

“The slow walk through the dust was a good start,” the idiot continues blithely.

‘Squad roster top secret’ Blunt signs madly and kark it all to Kamino. The damn pilot doesn’t know there’s an Alpha down here, does he? Probably doesn’t even know Sharp ran this one, might think he’s on the air with one of the Cpls.

Kark it all, usually Sharp only has to run interference for his own squad suffering Boot-Swallow Sickness.

“But if all the holos are right then one of you should have dramatically shouldered a cannon. Maybe lit up a deathstick and flicked the match away. There definitely needed to be a good orangey background flare right as you came up.”

Sharp hopes that brat has command as tolerant as Sharp is. The Alpha’s a pragmatic type; he’ll have the pilot slip them back through the mine line first before ripping him a secondary fifth point of contact. Sharp hopes wherever they land, the pilot’s got command that’ll at least try to step in between.

“And strategically ripped uppers,” the dead vod chatters. “Eye-candy, to raise the ratings.”

Because it sure as kriff ain’t gonna be Sharp.

“Your opinion has been noted, CT,” the Alpha intones, deadpan dangerous. Kot to the chirpy little bastard, he sounds like he would have been a riot.

“Let me know if you want me to actually land and follow protocol, or if I should roll in slow with the sides down so you can leap heroically aboard.”

The sad truth if it is that there’s more than one of the Dogs seriously contemplating whether they could pull that off. The Element Of Awesome, or some rot. Sharp stares down the likely candidates until they subside. If only he could do that over comm.

The LAAT/i lands and okay yeah, Sharp is a little impressed that the pilot angled it to kick the dust plume back away from them that takes some skill. The Alpha huffs, so maybe the pilot will survive this.

“Hi I’m with the GAR, here to pick up some relics that require special handling.”

If he would just shut up, maybe Sharp could rip him one that’d leave him a little battered but at least not bleeding.

Sharp tries. Little gods know, Sharp did try. He’d nudged Deadeye up towards the gunner seat, had Sten start taking a look at whatever the kriff Jark karked up on his arm conveniently in front of the door release. He was out the second they touched down aboard, steps firm but quick towards the cockpit.

Alpha 17 sails past, effortless like Sharp isn’t near on to a run. Kark, he tried.

Alpha catches the idiot by the ear the second he’s boots down, hauls his empty blond head upright.

Kid doesn’t even flinch. For kark’s sake, he has to know ARC markings and yet there’s no repentance in his eyes. There’s defiance.

Hells, if Alpha leaves anything of him after, Sharp might slap him one. Where does he dismount?

“Four months, 17,” the brat growls and suddenly all his chipper rings hollow in Sharp’s memory. “You made Ponds cry.”

Oh.

“The boys can catch him later,” Deadeye’s saying as Sharp walks back. “Give him a talking to before he steps in it with someone less tolerant.”

“Stand down,” Sharp orders. He checks Jark’s arm for something to do. “It’s a domestic.”

Hisses of understanding, and the Devil Dogs retreat. They might not know the details, but between a domestic and a droideka only one is solved quick and easy with mag-pulse.

They’re not hugging when Sharp glances back, one last look before they Dogs break for downtime, but everything about their body language screams familiar. Comfortable. Whoever that vod is, anyone with eyes can tell he’s Alpha-17’s.

Damn, men like tanks but still human under that. Alphas really are something, aren’t they?

Kark, Sharp hopes 17’s scouting for a squad. They could use some of all of that, the Dogs. Little gods know they’d run better for it.

#my writing #alpha 17 #rex #sharp #devil dogs #Anonymous

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primasveraas-writing · 3 years

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And In Darkness, I Stand- Chapter 3

Kallus’ leg is never quite the same after Bahryn. But then again, neither is he.

1 2 3 4 5

3. The Ghost

The day of reckoning arrives.

Thrawn appears in the doorway, and Kallus knows that it is over. The Admiral taunts Kallus with the jamming device, the Fulcrum symbol flashing across the small screen. He has failed, and at best, he will die quickly for this discovery.

But Kallus is not one to resign himself to whatever miserable fate lies ahead. He will go down fighting, and there remains a chance to warn the rebels of the danger, as cryptic and brief as the fragment of his message is.

Kallus surges forward, attacking Thrawn with all his might. The blows are rapid and unforgiving. Thrawn targets his bad leg, yet the adrenaline overpowers the pain. Still, it is not enough to overcome Thrawn.

“Your technique is good. But… limited by your training in the Imperial Academy. Predictable.”

Thrawn is quick, strong, precise. More so than Kallus, but he does not need to win and he does not need to escape.

He throws the helmet first, which Thrawn catches easily. But the blow to his legs knocks the jammer out of his hands, and Kallus crushes it beneath his boot.

It is like clockwork, what happens next. He stands his ground, he is overpowered.

Thrawn is observant, a tactical master. He knows the weaknesses of everyone around him, and how to use them to ensure that he is the most powerful in the room.

It’s no surprise, really, that a series of swift kicks are delivered to Kallus’ right leg, which is healed but not correctly, functional, but not without pain.

Kallus lands on his back and is about to rise again when Thrawn looms over him, and brings his heel down on the barely-fixed bone.

His vision goes white instantly; he’s pretty sure he screams, but that fact matters less than the poison in every cell in his body, than the agony worse than death as the bone shatters.

It is worse than ever before. It is worse than the first break and the flare-ups, and the burning sensation after field missions. It is worse than the night he couldn’t sleep, overcome by the need for more bacta, convinced that he would be better off without the leg, when he desperately wished he had just sucked it up and gone to the medbay after Bahryn.

But here he is. He cannot even think to get to his feet, then Thrawn lifts Kallus by the front of his shirt and delivers a punch to his chest, sending him flying into the night air, where he collides with the durasteel railing.

That might have hurt, he registers dully, but it is insignificant compared to the agony in his leg.

He loses.

But the message got through. He has not failed in totality, and the rebels have a chance.

That he lives is cruel. Thrawn tortures Kallus, hangs him up by his wrists like a slab of meat, and beats him. He asks no questions, and Kallus knows he would not break, but the lack of interrogation is still a relief.

This, he deserves. Under Imperial law, it is only fair that a traitor is punished. Kallus would take this over an interrogation, which is sure to follow after the assault on the rebels, and he can only hope that Thrawn doesn’t deign to do so personally.

He does not want to break. He hopes he dies before he reveals any secrets of the rebellion- not that they trusted their spy with much, in the first place.

At the end of the day, the rebels prevail, as is so ingrained in their nature to succeed against impossible odds. What’s more is that he apparently does have the heart of a rebel- some of their lucky nature passes to him, and he finds himself safely aboard the Ghost, thanked by Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla alike. It is surreal, and strange, but for the first time in months, he is safe. At peace, even, at least for now.

But he is left alone. The rebels are making do with what little they have. They are busy, and Kallus, who once wished for the end of the entire movement and every being involved, remains in a corner of the ship that rescued him, his mind racing.

That is one benefit to it all. He’s particularly sharp now, going over what Imperial Intelligence he has memorized and can share with the rebellion. He feels little pain and can even stand, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins fuels him until the Ghost rendezvous with a rebel command ship.

He’s the last to embark, hanging back until Hera claps him on the shoulder, nearly pushing him out the door.

“Come on,” she says, nodding towards the bustling hallway. If she’s tired, she doesn’t show it, and a small smile pulls at her lips. “I’ll take you to medical.”

“I’m fine,” Kallus insists, because he feels so. “It looks worse than it is, Captain.”

“Hera,” she corrects him instantly. “And I chose to believe that if you come with me to Command then go to the medbay straight after.”

Kallus nods, because he has confronted Hera’s will a great many times and seldom triumphed. They trudge through the unfamiliar halls together, Kallus bowing his head to avoid the stares of those passing or congratulating Hera, who promises a quick debriefing then rest before reorganizing in the morning. He doesn’t imagine it will be as easily delivered to him as it will be for her, but he thinks of sleeping in a room surrounded by people he isn’t actively betraying, and perhaps talking to Garazeb soon, and the thought calms him.

A spike of pain shoots through him with his next step forward. Kallus falters, then grits his teeth and presses forward.

“Agent- Kallus,” Hera says, frowning at him. She touches his arm, gently, and Kallus is surprised at the care. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he promises. Every step hurts progressively more.

She regards him, wary, and Kallus pretends he does not see the concern painted across her face. However, she continues to lead him towards the command center once he takes another step without wincing.

The pain is too familiar, and logically, Kallus knows that it will overcome him soon. But if he can suppress it for now, if he can confront the Rebellion's leadership first, then he can deal with the injury, once placated by an understanding of his future with the Alliance.

Hera indicates that they're close, her montrals swishing as she peers around the next corner. Kallus inhales sharply once her attention diverts from him, suddenly aware that he'd forgotten to breathe.

She waves him on. Kallus' leg feels like lead. He tries to go through the door, and stumbles, lightheaded.

"Kallus, are you sure-"

"Yes," he wheezes, bracing himself in the doorway. Officials in the command center look up at him- he recognizes faces but can recall no names.

"Kallus-"

He stands straight up, preparing to look Hera in the eye, but his leg buckles under the weight, and he cries out in pain. She's supporting him now, her hands under his arms, and she's saying something, her green eyes filled with alarm.

Kallus tries to look up at her, assure her that he’s fine, but the hurt widens and spreads until it is burning at him yet again and Kallus cannot remember a single word he was going to say. He’s doubled over, and he can’t speak, nor see, and the agony consumes him, and he’s falling, falling- then all goes black.

Kallus opens his eyes slowly. His eyelids are heavy, and his exhausted body begs him to go back to sleep, But he’s here, in the Chimera’s medbay, and he’s not sure if he’s yet safe-

He blinks again. Someone is next to his cot- someone- Zeb.

The Lasat is slumped over, clasping Kallus’ hand. Kallus stirs, reaching for Zeb, and croaks out his name.

Instantly, Zeb wakes, sitting up straight. “Kal,” he gasps, leaning forward. “You’re up.”

Kallus nods, too tired to speak. His brow furrows, but two questions come to mind, and he can’t decide which to ask first.

He doesn’t know where he is, but Zeb is here, so he must be safe. That issue is resolved then, so:

“‘s my leg still there?”

Zeb looks confused, glancing from Kallus to his legs beneath the sheets. Then, he huffs out a laugh and takes Kallus’ hand again.

“Yeah, Kal, it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”

Kallus nods again, satisfied. That is enough for now, and he lets his eyes slide shut.

He is alone when he wakes again, save for the meddroid fiddling with the tubes in his arm. Kallus groans- his head hurts, and he still feels tired, but other than that, the pain is not bad.

“Kallus,” the droid says, its overly-large eyes peering at him. “You are awake.”

“Yes,” he agrees, then groans as he stretches, running a hand over his face. There’s stubble on his chin and his beard. He’s been out for most of a day, then, possibly longer. And he’s here, on some Rebel ship, and not the Chimera. This explains the droid, which looks ancient, scratched and dented. It appears to have been taped together in more than one place, and Kallus smiles to himself.

“We know nothing of your medical history.” The droid tells him. “Although I have conducted many tests, there are still questions.”

“Okay.” Kallus is pretty sure that his questions (where is he, what day is it, where is Zeb) should have higher priority, but he is too out of it to protest, so he nods. “You may ask them.”

“Excellent.” A beat. “What is your first name?”

He laughs, a deep, rumbling sound emitting from deep in his throat. It’s been a long time since he’s laughed like that, and his voice was already scratchy from underuse. “Alexsandr,” he says, then spells it. Perhaps he is a good spy, after all. He doubts that anyone in Imperial Command knows his first name, either, though this is attributed to a lack of care rather than insufficient information.

There are a few more basic questions about his background and history. Kallus realizes that he’s in the Rebellion’s system now, and he wonders what his file says. Alexsandr Kallus. Coruscanti. Previously Agent Kallus, ISB, Fulcrum. Wanted by the Empire for ten counts of treason; wanted by the Rebel Alliance for one hundred crimes against humanity.

He snorts. The meddroid, which was turning away from him, pauses. “Can I help you, Alexsandr?”

“No,” Kallus says quickly. “I mean- yes. Do you know where Garazeb Orrelios is?”

“The Lasat? He has been here for the last twenty-four standard hours. I do not know where he went.”

Oh. Kallus feels heat flame his cheeks, and a monitor next to him beeps. His blush deepens when he realizes that his heart monitor made the sound; his heartbeat has just spiked.

“I will get a medic to speak with you about your leg.” The droid looks at the monitor, then back at him. “Do not excite yourself further.”

Kallus coughs, unable to look at the droid. “Yes,” he mutters, ashamed. “I will do that.”

The medic is a Rodian, who speaks in a soft tone and seems to barely remember where she is. This fact isn’t particularly comforting, but she is kind enough and patient with all his questions.

His right leg had a severe initial break that never healed correctly, causing weakness in his tibia and impeding the muscles and tendons in his entire leg. The strain that later followed only made this worse, and almost two days ago, the leg was shattered again- he broke both his tibia and his fibula. Bone fragments have punctured both his muscle and his flesh, but in short- it will never heal right, and Kallus will be affected for the rest of his life.

She explains that they operated on him, once Hera and two other rebels dragged him into the infirmary. It was easier to keep him under after he had passed out, and they did the best they could trying to prevent infection and further blood loss. He’s also covered in extensive bruises, including on his ribs.

“How do you feel?” The Rodian concludes, fiddling with one of the machines next to him.

“Like I could run forty klicks,” he mutters, staring down at his leg. Right now, it’s wrapped in bandages and some sort of brace.

She brustles, looking shocked. “I thought I made it clear that wasn’t possible-”

“It’s-” he sighs. “I understand.”

“Well, I-”

“Kal!” The budding argument is halted in its tracks; Zeb stands in the doorway, disheveled but grinning. “You’re awake!”

“I am.” He’s not, technically- he’s hasn’t yet attempted to sit up, but Kallus cares very little about the nuance, and Zeb makes his way over to Kallus’ bedside.

“Good.” Zeb scans him with barely-suppressed joy. “You scared us,” he admits. “Hera says you just collapsed.”

“Yes, well, the adrenaline wore off.” Kallus doesn’t look at Zeb. “I’m recovered now.”

“I know.” A smile creeps back into Zeb’s tone. “I don’t believe you can be kept down for long.”

“I can’t,” Kallus agrees, echoing Zeb’s humor.

“Do you remember anything?” Zeb stops fiddling with his pants and instead smooths out Kallus’ blanket.

“A little.” His brow furrows. “I remember that you were there for me.”

“I was.”

“The meddroid says you were with me for a full rotation.”

Zeb is suddenly very interested in a spare thread on his pants. “I was,” he mumbles, and Alexsandr suppresses another smile, glancing away so that Zeb doesn’t see.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Zeb continues, his shoulders slouching. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

“It’s okay.” Alexsandr didn’t know his voice could go this soft, but Zeb’s next words distract him from this point, his tone just as gentle.

“I’m sorry about your leg.”

“Don’t be.” It comes out flat, and Kallus looks away from Zeb.

It will heal. He’ll walk again, but he’ll be limping and limited. He’s going to have a cane adjusted to him tomorrow. He may never do fieldwork again.

“I am.” And Zeb sounds like it too, though his expression is devoid of pity. “Still, I thought you’d like to know that everyone in command is excited to have you here. It’s all anyone can talk about.”

“Really?” A jolt of surprise travels through him. “They don’t hate me?”

He sounds sarcastic, but Zeb looks back at him, completely serious. “You saved our necks more times than we can count. And you’re a goldmine for Imperial information.”

Right. His expression falls before he can help it. “You’re a badass ‘n a hero, Kal. That’s what they care about.”

“I’m not sure if I am. Or that I will be.” Kallus gestures to his leg, bound and immobile before them both.

Zeb’s expression softens, and he rests his hand on Kallus’ arm. “Right. I’m sure that will stop you.”

“It’s different. How can I help that?”

“So are you gonna retire? Hide in the medbay or go to the Outer Rim until the war is over?”

Frustration builds in Kallus, and he sits completely upright, clenching the sheets in his hands. “It’s not that simple! Of course I’m not going to- to kriff off and die- but I can’t walk!”

“Not forever.” Zeb amends. “And you’re one of the greatest minds we have.” Zeb glances around the empty room. “Don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“I’m a former Imperial, a spy and I have months of recovery ahead. I’m not entirely convinced people want me here.”

“I do,” Zeb says immediately, then glances away, scratching the back of his head. “I, er- well, I do. And so do a lot of other people.”

Kallus looks up at him, and Zeb meets his eyes again after a long moment. “Do you want to be here?” He asks softly.

“Yes, I do.”

“Good.” Zeb grins, but there is tenderness in his gaze. “Then you’ll put your mind to it and everything will work out.”

“You sound very confident in this fact.”

“I’m confident in you.”

---

I am distinctly aware of the lack of research that I’ve done. I’m doing my best to be canon-compliant here but sometimes I don’t have the energy to remember that a shower is a sonic and not a shower… so here we are.

Additionally, please take any medical jargon with a grain of salt. I am not a doctor, and I’m mostly going with “yeah that seems like it could happen” as far as realism goes. Nevertheless, thank you for the warmth with which this story has been received, and thank you all for your support!

#kallus #agent kallus #alexsandr kallus #kalluzeb #star wars rebels #sw rebels #sw rebels fanfic #swr #rebels #star wars #star wars fanfic #kalluzeb fanfiction #kalluzeb fanfic #rebels fanfic #swr fanfic #kallus fanfic #kallus x zeb #and in darkness i stand

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

A Matter of Trust

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5470 (oops)

Summary: You and Steve get to go to a mission together after a while; free drinks, partying, dressing-up nicely, stealing blueprints, the usual. You might even enjoy this as a couple.

Or… not really. Of course something would go awry. What else did you expect when wearing these killer heels anyway?

A/N: Written for or @wkemeup’s 4k writing challenge; congratulations! Well-deserved, no arguing here; shall the number continue to grow ;) Thank you for letting me participate!

Prompt: “Get in the closet, now!” (bold in the text)

Warnings: suggestive language, mentions of a kink, objectification, gun violence (brief), swearing (always), attempt at humour, fluff…?

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In your whole history as an operative of S.H.I.E.L.D. slash Avenger, time had never dragged so slowly as it did at this party.

Not even Steve’s presence cheered you up, mostly because he was busying himself with being everyone’s company but yours despite you two coming here together. For a mission. To work, you reminded yourself.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been there for the plan-making which had resulted in mutual agreement of Steve falling into the role of an honourable man whose infamous good nature prevented him from saying no to anyone who asked for a moment with him even if it meant leaving you alone. Which you supposedly mind, because you were here with him only to sneak in here and possibly get your five minutes of glory if he stood by your side long enough

And that was only an act for people who would have noticed you had arrived together.

For the others, you simply attended the party – a known cover-up for a place of business in arms-deal among the powerful men of the underground world – to have fun and seduce some rich businessman.

Sipping from the very same glass of champagne you had helped yourself with about an hour ago, you scanned the room in the search for the big boss. No, not Steve, but the man of the hour, the one whose blueprints you were meant to steal. The blueprints of a potentially large bomb that could kill tens of thousands if it went kaboom and released the nanoparticles of a dangerous virus to the air.

Lovely. Someone clearly had too much time on their hands coming up with crap like that only to make your life miserable.

“What’s a gorgeous lady like yourself doing at this party alone?” a velvety voice interrupted your dark musing and you vainly tried to cover the shudder running down your spine, cursing at the heat curling in your stomach.

Was this how he was talking to all the women who were throwing themselves at him tonight? Probably.

Had you been through that before? Yes.

Had you expected it to happen tonight? Sadly, yeah.

Was it bothering you? Hell the fuck yeah, even if you knew it shouldn’t and that it didn’t mean anything but Steve doing his job right.

You cursed mentally at your weakness and sighed out loud, spinning around to face the man.

“Waiting for a bulky blond supersoldier to come save her, naturally,” you hissed back, hating yourself for letting your jealously get the better of you.

Steve had never ever made you as much as doubt that you were the one for him, but that green bitch of an emotion still intruded on you tonight. You blamed the upcoming visit from aunt flow and the rush of hormones arriving with it and the fact you were itching to leave and go home just for getting rid of those ridiculously high heels alone.

You usually enjoyed wearing high heels, they gave you confidence as gazes of many men and women followed you, but the stilettos you had got chosen tonight could be used as murder weapon.

Ha, maybe you could try and sell them here, you’d make a fortune!

A frown appeared on Steve’s face, one of curiosity, regret and surprise when he registered your irritated tone.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded quietly, whispering to your ear intimately, only making the situation worse.

“You shouldn’t be talking to me, Captain Rogers. You’ll blow it.”

His eyebrow jumped ridiculously high and you realized what you said; you groaned both at his cheekiness and your stupidity.

“Blow our cover. Get your mind out of the gutter…” you muttered, putting some distance between the two of you for the sake of the cover.

“Maybe I’m feeling a bit reckless tonight,” he hummed back, his large palm resting on your lower back and you had to take a moment to swallow the blissful groan at his gesture. You loved his hands and the heels were not only killing your feet, but also you back, and the warmth radiating from his skin felt like heaven. “But seriously, are you okay?”

“You could have asked through the comm.”

“I wanted to check up on you personally. So?” he insisted and you couldn’t but sigh again, finishing your glass of champagne when you spotted Wagner, aka your target. You stepped away from Steve.

“Just tired. Want this to be over with. Go mingle, Steven.”

Pausing when you took a note of the harshness in your tone, you found his concerned gaze over your shoulder, whispering as softly as you could: “Thank you for your concern… Captain.”

You caught a glimpse of his discreet lopsided smile before turning away fully.

As you walked into the crowd, your long crimson dress curled around your feet with every step due to the provocative – read practical – slit ending mid-thigh. You hoped that the memory of watching you go would occupy his brain for some time while he talked to the flocks of both male and female admirers.

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Two hours. It took you another two hours to ensure you’d be safe sneaking into the Wagner’s office slash bedroom.

Of course his bureau would be his bedroom; men like him knew nothing about good old sleep hygiene, because the thought of their money distracted them from the evil they were doing to the world and had them sleeping like babies.

Using the key-card you had snatched about three minutes ago, you easily entered the over-decorated room.

Looks like someone’s compensating for something, you noted mentally, not losing any time and activating the no-prints mode on your gloves; one of the perks of working with Tony Stark. You were wearing the nanotech the whole evening and no one had a clue, because the particles were imitating your skin. You’d leave a print on the glass of champagne if you wanted; if you planned on rummaging someone else’s office, leaving a trace was a different case and you wouldn’t take any risks.

Systematically starting on the right from the door and working your way through everything that looked even remotely like a possible hideout, you didn’t forget to gingerly place your palm over the wall-length closet so Friday could run scans.

God, you loved that Tony Stark was on the side of the angels despite not quite being one himself; according to him at least.

“No signs of anything else than overpriced shirts, tuxedos and sets for dom-sub play,” the AI announced, barely audible, and you cringed. Not what you needed to know. “Cuffs are men’s size. Dominatrix set for a wom-“

“Enough, enough! Gee, Friday…” you muttered under your breath, not liking the visual of Wagner in the middle of enjoying-

Gross.

“No need for that much detail…”

Shaking your head, you moved onto the desk; an obvious, perhaps too obvious choice, which was why you wouldn’t place your bet on it. But hey, you could never be sure enough until you checked.

The sudden noise on your right had you drawing your gun at instant, your pulse skyrocketing.

The first thing you saw was a large frame of the newcomer and neatly combed blond hair. Your shoulders slumped.

Steve raised his hands as he moved from the doorway to stand inside, his face visibly relaxing at the sight of you searching another man’s desk.

The door clicked shut behind him and you forced yourself to breathe in, shoving your gun back to the holster placed on your covered thigh.

“Jesus, Steve!” you whisper-yelled exasperatedly and resumed your inspection, paying him no mind anymore. You had more important things to do at the moment; not that you wouldn’t do him; Steve in a tux was sight to behold, like hold onto THAT, literally get your hands on it, but you were here for a job.

“You weren’t responding!” Steve replied in the same manner, causing you to freeze.

He had been trying to contact you? And you couldn’t hear him? But-

“Oh,” you let out intelligently, doing the math easily. “He must have some sort of a jammer in here, makes sense.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I’m fine,” you stated, shutting one drawer, opening another. “How did you even ge– never mind. You should go-“

“Don’t wanna cloooose my eyeees!”

The distant howl-like shout from the hall turned your blood into ice, your eyes widening.

You had studied Wagner the whole evening; you’d recognize his voice anywhere, even when he was singing ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’ out of tune.

“-before THAT happens! Shit!”

As you pulled out your phone, the live-feed from the camera in the hall offered you a marvellous view.

Two gorilla-men were dragging Wagner towards his room as his feet barely kept him standing. Gorilla number three was walking behind them just in case that their boss’ face decided to meet the floor despite the support offered to him.

Shit, shit, SHIT-

Closing the drawer you were currently scouring, lips pressed into a tight line, you eyed Steve; he was already bracing himself for the fight, caught in the middle of the process of discarding the jacket to have wider range of movements.

You whined internally – firstly, what a sight, it would always make you weak in knees no matter what. Secondly, if this was to end in a fight, the chances were that you’d make it out without the plans and you had spent the night in those killer heels for nothing.

Oh no, you don’t-

“Cause I’d miss ya’ BABY—I don’t wanna miss a THIIIIING!”

Scanning the room once more, your mind running hundred miles a minute, your gaze fell on the huge-ass closet of which contents you had learned more than you’d like to.

Your lips parted in surprise at the plan forming in your own head.

This is a terrible idea.

It’s yours!

Exactly.

Yeah, okay, fair enough-

NO TIME TO COME UP WITH A BETTER ONE-

Steve was kind enough to follow when you grabbed his arm and pulled him from his spot in the middle of the room, though he did shoot you an utterly confused look.

You met his eyes and gulped when the singing approached the room way too quickly to your liking.

“STILL MISS YA’ BABY–“

“I need you to trust me now,” you pleaded in hushed tone, seeing Steve’s pupils go wide, covering the somewhat always warm blue of his irises.

“With what?”

Well, he asked for it.

“Get in the closet, now!”

A second of shocked silence followed your request before his brain made the connection and a scowl twisted his handsome face.

“What? No! I’m not leaving you alone to face them!” he raised his voice minutely and you covered his mouth to remind him that there were ears present, inching closer with each second passing.

“DON’T WANNA FAAAAALL ASLEEEEEEP-!”

“That’s exactly what you’ll do! That’s easier to play off.”

Steve very much not agreed if his eyes flashing with anger were anything to go by. His hand pushed yours away as he towered over you.

“I’m not leaving-“

“Look at the gorillas, Steve!” you shoved the phone to his face, unlocking the closet and throwing its door open. “One word from them to the rest of security and we’re screwed. Get in!”

Something between a whine, a groan and a growl – neither of those sounds sexy given the circumstances – escaped his lips and you assumed he had to admit to himself that you were right.

Taking a mental note of his resistance diminishing, you easily pushed him towards the limited dark space.

“CAUSE EEEEEVEN WHEN I DREAM OF YOOOOOOOU- THE SWEETEST DREAM WILL NEEEVER DOOOOOO-“

“We can still play it off toge-“ he tried to protest one more time but you pushed against his chest adamantly.

“And say what? This isn’t what it looks like? We just happened to choose your office to get freaky? I’ll handle it. Trust me.”

Steve gave you his unfairly disarming pleading look, his puppy eyesTM, but backed into the closet without another word, clutching his previously stripped jacket to his chest, because he did trust you.

Fingers on the handle, you hesitated when you realized what could ruin the charade you came up with and planned on pulling off.

Swallowing hard at the terrible idea, you gave Steve a tiny encouraging smile as you drew your gun and three knives from your leg holster/sheath and pressed it to his hands.

“Hold these for me.”

Swiftly closing the door, the last thing you saw was the horror on his face.

As the door swung open and you spun on your heels, he had no chance to react.

The loud song which had been reaching your ears for seemingly endless time died on Wagner’s lips and the third extra gorilla of a man behind him instantly pulled out his gun.

And aimed it right at your face. While you had nothing to defend yourself but your bare hands.

Yay.

“Who are you?!” he thundered and like a charm, Wagner stood straight so the other two guards could have you at gunpoint as well.

Yet, what sent an unpleasant shiver through you was Wagner’s sleazy eyes travelling from your killer heels to your ankles, up to your partly exposed thigh, your waist and finally settling on your cleavage, not bothering to make it higher to look into your eyes.

So. He’s a pig. Shocker.

For once, you were grateful. Not that he was supposed to know that.

A sweet innocent smile spread on your lips as you eyed the weapons with what seemed to be almost a satisfaction, you hoped.

“A government agent, of course,” you said, voice pitched just a bit higher than usual. You felt a bit sorry for Steve at the moment; you were well-aware of nearly giving him a heart attack by saying that. “I work with Captain America.” Scratch the ‘nearly’. Poor Steve’s heart. “I was given the task to scour this place… very… thoroughly.”

Your tone husky now, your teeth bit down on your lower lip, your eyes watching Wagner with faked interest. He hypnotized your red lips before shaking his head as if snapping from a haze.

“They told me you’ve been a bad, bad man. I kept my eye on you all evening,” you admitted, not even having to lie.

The following smile you sent his direction was perhaps too predatory, but that could work. For him anyway.

“Who do you work for?!”

The guards were not as easily fooled as their drunk boss apparently; then again, you hadn’t expected them to.

“Oh. A.R.M.O.R. America-Related Manpower Operatives and Reinforcements.” God bless their hearts if they were going to buy that, seeing you were obviously trying to imitate the SHIEILD acronym. Very poorly. Playing it up, you let a giggle escape you before your expression turned serious, guilty even. “Oh. Probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s only my first time, you see. I finished my training few days ago.”

“Mm… look at ‘dat…” Wagner drawled and nope, it had nothing on the way Steve spoke when his accent peeked through while he was drunk on Asgardian liquor or lust alone.

Not relevant.

Wagner waved off his guard dogs, gesturing to one of them to approach you. “Why don’t we search you first?”

“Make it quick. I have…” you let your eyes trail over Wagner’s body, licking your lips when visibly lingering on his crotch, “more important tasks at hand. I came here for a mission. I’d like it to… finish.”

Two men instantly went to inspect you, patting you from the back, from the front, up and down, way longer and more thoroughly than necessary.

And they found what they were looking for.

One large palm harshly slipped between your thighs and you closed your eyes, willing yourself not to throw up at the pawing.

Gorilla One’s head snapping up to you, he pulled out the only weapon left on you, handing it to his boss and Gorilla Two grabbed your wrists and locked it behind your back, causing you to nearly hiss in pain.

“Oops,” you shrugged instead, burning gaze locked onto the man who was holding both your weapon and your life in his hands.

Your heart was beating frantically in anticipation, your confidence wavering as Wagner inspected the knife.

A slow smile spread on his face, his left eyebrow rising and then he finally, finally burst out laughing.

A confused ‘what’ sounded from behind you as the man’s utterly smashed boss howled in hysterical laughter.

“This—this is GOL-DEN!” he choked out, tossing the item to the very man who had handed it to him.

“It’s a stage-prop,” Gorilla One sighed.

And that it was. Thank you, Natasha Romanoff.

“Oh. So it’s fake.”

“Told you I have more important things at hand… so if—my hands could find some release please…” you asked sweetly over your shoulder. The very next second, you remembered just what was in the closet; and you weren’t thinking Steve. So you switched tactics. “That’s an order, actually. Let. Me. Go.”

“What the agent said, Greg,” Wagner beckoned, still chuckling, a new twinkle appearing in his eye, his face free of mistrust. Gorilla Two, Greg apparently, released your hands with reluctance. You didn’t bother thanking him. “And let her work. Off you go.”

When the gorillas wavered for few moments, you felt your impatience grow along with the pain shooting up your calves. Damn heels.

“Have you not heard your superior? Do I need to teach you some discipline?”

Wagner licked his lips, taking two wobbly steps towards you. It seemed to seal the deal for the guards, because they left the room.

“Someone went out of their way to get you… Must be my birthday then,” he grinned sleazily, his fingers twitching as if he craved to touch you, his hands stopping few inches from your hip. “I’m all yours, agent. Why don’t you go on with the… thorough inspection?”

Straightening your posture, chin stuck up, you nodded curtly.

“Of course. Sir, I’ll have to ask you to raise your hands to your head. Don’t move otherwise. I’m gonna feel for weapons now.”

“Yes, madam,” he responded breathlessly, but the second you started the process, his hand landed on your hip.

You stopped in your search, locking serious gaze with him. His pupils were blown, eyes dark with lust. His fingers squeezed, his gaze flickering to your mouth as you stood nearly chest to chest.

“Sir, this is highly inappropriate. I’m gonna have to ask you-“

His palm slid to your bottom, fingers digging into the flesh.

You narrowed your eyes, not even having to pretend you didn’t like that. You slapped his hand away, earning a sly grin. He didn’t try again immediately, which you were endlessly grateful for. Instead, he obediently raised his arms so he looked ready to be either searched or crucified.

Oh, you’d gladly.

“Sorry, Agent, I couldn’t help myself. What is such… pretty face like yourself doing in business like this?” he questioned in a husky voice and at that moment, you knew that your time spent around Tony Stark had taken its toll on you, because you simply couldn’t resist that pass.

“Stealing intel from pricks like you,” you mumbled under your breath, giving him just enough time to realize something was wrong.

A fraction of second later, the edge of your hand hit his throat, bruising his larynx and causing him to release a shocked huff of air. Kicking his knee next, your elbow met his face. A choked groan escaped his lips and you prayed to god he didn’t truly find his voice to call the guards.

You elbowed him in his right temple for a good measure, incapacitating his other knee so he nearly sunk to the floor. You slipped around him in one swift movement; your arm sneaked around his throat and cut out his airways.

Too stunned, he barely fought you and you felt all tension leave his muscles in no time.

Wagner’s body hit the ground as he slipped through your hands despite your best efforts. You winced at the thud shaking the floor; you quickly giggled loudly, playing it off as a drunken fun-time shenanigans. Just in case the guards were still at the door.

Satisfied and relieved when no one burst in with guns blazing, you walked to the closet, losing those damned stilettos on the way.

As soon as you unlocked the closet, Steve nearly hit you with the door when abruptly leaving the limited space. His eyes scanned you head to toe to find any sign of an injury, the flames in his glare fading only a bit when he found none.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” he whisper-yelled and despite the circumstances, you couldn’t but giggle, this time from honest amusement as he proved your earlier thoughts right.

There we go…

“Worked, didn’t it? Now help me since you’re here, he’s fucking heavy…”

Steve gave you an incredulous look, one promising a storm coming once you had the time for it, but he went to pick Wagner’s body up without protest.

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Steve was kind enough to have you use the bathroom first, so by the time he emerged – around half past three a.m. – you were already tucked in bed, waiting for him. His feet shuffled against the floor and he seemed utterly spent, as if he had been fighting an army from space.

You had both left the party unharmed; then again, you could imagine that socializing the way he had had to could be as tiring as an alien invasion itself. Also, he had been the one leave Wagner office-bedroom through the window, while you simply walked out of the room, winking at the guards who had indeed stayed by the door.

Steve slipped under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, the warm light replaced by inviting darkness. Your eyelids felt heavy after the long night and you couldn’t wait to enter the blissful land of sleep.

Having Steve’s arms around you, a pleasant habit of his, you knew you’d be out in no time, but you made the effort to shift further into his embrace, sighing in content and murmuring ‘goodnight’.

Already halfway out as soon as you closed your eyes, you still registered his arm winding tighter around your waist, his nose pressed to your nape. A deep inhale, then another, warm breath and his lips inching closer with each second.

Pulled out of your slumber, limbs already heavy and yet floaty, half-hearted question left your lips.

“You ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, his foot wedging between yours to pull you impossibly closer, his exhale long and wavering.

The tremble in it alarmed you, urging you to check up on his expression, on him. Willing your body to move, your heart skipped a startled beat when he wouldn’t let you turn around.

“That didn’t sound-“

His fingers wormed its way under your side laid on the mattress, flexing on the flesh of your waist.

“I’m fine….” Bullshit. “It’s just… you have no idea how hard it was to stay put while listening to all that, do you?”

Eyelashes fluttering in surprise, you took in his words, the subtle taste of fear in them, concern for how your abrupt plan could have easily go awry.

You allowed yourself a few moments before responding, forcing your memories, the images of you helplessly lying pinned to the ground after you saw a building explode – a building with Steve still in it – out of your mind.

“I… I think I can imagine. I’m sorry. I came up with an idea and thought it was for the best,” you whispered.

Honestly, you were still convinced that it had been the best thing to do given the circumstances, but that was momentarily beside the point.

“You literally told him you worked with me. I swear to God- I–“

Hearing the shift in his voice, a different emotion interfering – the pure horror, laced with exasperation – you softened your next words even further, running your fingertips over the back of his hand coaxingly.

Without any real hope, you attempted to turn in his firm embrace; this time, he reluctantly let you, your palms instantly trapping his miserable face.

“Hey. Hey, Steve, it’s fine. We handled it. We’re good. I just remembered Friday told me that he was a kinky bastard-“ Steve nudged you at the word and you fought hard the eye-roll he had coming at that “-and decided to use it.”

“You gave me your weapons and went against him empty-handed– never ever do that again,” he demanded, voice equally pleading and firm. You couldn’t help but nudge him back, because in your line of work, promising that technically equalled lying. “If there is any other option.”

You sighed, understanding all too well how he was feeling, willing to promise the latter to ease his mind. And to erase the worried wrinkles on his forehead. You kissed him there, the tension resolving under your loving gesture.

“Noted. I didn’t do that to get off, to have a high.“ Unlike some people, who seemed to do that sometimes. "I promise.”

“I know you didn’t,” Steve said, having the decency to add an edge of guilt to his voice, your verbal call for hypocrisy not going unnoticed. He kissed your left collarbone, tender and greedy, his lips sliding an inch lower to faintly feel your heartbeat and lingering.

“You know me well,“ you stated, running your fingers through his still damp locks, musing. "It’s… nice. Not as scary as I expected once.”

“Thanks…?” he murmured against your skin unsurely and you chuckled, a tired but oh so content sound.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, heavy-lidded eyes boring into yours, finding your lips with his to deliver a lazy but heartfelt kiss, one you felt reaching your very soul.

Shifting so your head was tucked under his chin, you nestled into the most comfortable position possible and Steve hummed into your hair, once more pulling your body against his, not an inch of space left between you. You melted into his warmth and finally, you felt his muscles fully relax as well.

As you once more walked the fine line of dozing off, a sudden thought caused you to snap your eyes open, your heart skipping a curious beat.

“Steve?” An absent hum was his only response, but encouraged by any reaction at all, you continued, knowing that you wouldn’t fall asleep without having the answer. “When you said it was hard… you weren’t referring to a… certain situation of yours, right? … or were you?”

Even with his body turning rigid, a rock-solid prove he was fully awake, he put effort into sounding sleepy.

“Just go to sleep, woman.”

“…were you?! Do you want me to… do some thorough inspection of y-“ you teased, fascinated, never finishing your thought as Steve’s large palm covered your mouth.

You resisted the urge to release the surprised laugh bubbling in your chest. It wasn’t that you thought Steve’s desire was ridiculous; you were just that amazed that it never came up; a true wonder given your line of work.

Momentarily incapacitated, you didn’t speak, but grazed your teeth over his palm so he would release you.

“Hush!”

“ ’khay-“ You muttered and he removed his palm, sleepy blue watching you in warning. You strained your neck to kiss the previously teased skin of his hand. “We’ll explore that another time. I’m beat. Still love you. Goodnight.”

With that, you curled back into his body, feeling the wide expand of his chest followed by an exasperated puff.

“Goodnight, you maniac. I love you too.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Pins and needles in your toes ripped you harshly from the dreamland and you groaned quietly, rescuing your foot from the vice created by Steve’s own.

Shared sleep was blissful, releasing endorphins, the feelings of comfort and safety it provided irreplaceable and all that, but having your limb pinned to the mattress by a supersoldier was no joke.

You checked the clock on the nightstand; 8:27 AM. Sparing a glance at the man sleeping beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist, palm sprawled over our abdomen, you smiled despite the early hour.

Any other morning, you would have shaken off the cramp and scooted over to get even closer to Steve; however, determined to do something nice for him and make sure he was alright with what he had clearly considered an irresponsible stunt of yours yesterday, you thanked heavens for the unexpected get-up call and planned on wiggling out of Steve’s grasp.

“Where ya’ goin’?” he mumbled sleepily, the inches you had managed to put between your bodies erased as his arm pulled you back, his nose nuzzling your hair with a sigh.

“Bathroom,” you lied easily, lightly patting his forearm. “We’ve barely slept for five hours. You still have thirty minutes till your usual start of the post-mission day, you crazy-ass lark. I’ll be right back.”

“Mm-hmm… I’ll be waitin’.”

Chuckling silently, you freed yourself fully, this time without his protests.

“I’m sure you will, Steve,” you whispered, your smile widening when only ten seconds later, your words were followed by his quiet snort.

Grabbing one of Steve’s hoodies thrown over the backrest of a chair and sliding into it, you made your way to the communal kitchen instead. Your mission was to make Steve breakfast, secretly hoping you could talk him into skipping the usual run today and actually spending a day in bed. You thwarted big bad’s plans yesterday, for god’s sake, you both deserved a break…

As a reminder of the past events, a bruise the size of a boot on your thigh – which you didn’t remember getting – stared accusingly at you when you passed a mirror. You inconspicuously pulled the hem of Steve’s hoodie an inch lower in attempt to cover it. Vainly.

Rolling your eyes, you wondered just how nice you needed to be today; Steve had seemed more freaked out than anything else; nevertheless, the anger could come today and you rather if it didn’t.

Deciding pancakes, eggs and bacon were a safe bet, you hummed and opened the fridge.

It was the exact moment something caught you eye, a change in decorum; right above your head on the top of the fridge.

A big fat zero stared at you from the sign you had got Steve a while ago, a memorandum of your first first-hand experience of his utter recklessness on missions. Ever since then, you and the rest of the team made sure to have the board up-to-date, sometimes proudly and sometimes regretfully rewriting the number of ‘days without Steve doing stupid life-threatening shit’.

Now there was a zero. Your jaw went slack, your heartbeat skyrocketing.

It was not the only change on the sign.

Someone, and you had a very good idea who that might be (hint: he was sleeping in your bed), plastered your name over Steve’s.

Your smile froze on your lips and at that moment, you could have been knocked out with a feather.

Unbelievable.

Un-fucking-believable.

Shutting the fridge with a loud thud, bottles in its door clinking, you strode back to your shared room, sputtering curses.

The audacity of him!

When had he even- how had he done– all night— you had woken up before him-!

Forget pancakes, eggs and bacon; snark was on the menu today.

“STEVEEEEEN!”

You heard his laughter before you even reached the bedroom.

Looking at the bright sight of things, Steve being a little shit was a positive shift from his late-night anxiety. A brief smile crossed over your face before you stormed into the room, finding the blond culprit muffling his chuckles in a pillow.

Your pillow.

Jumping to the bed, you grabbed his own and opted to show him just how stupid you could get.

Because trying to take down a supersoldier in a pillow fight? The zero might have to stay on the board for one extra day.

As Steve’s carefree laughter echoed within the walls of your bedroom, filling you with pure joy, you decided you could live with that.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━ ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

If you’d like to know the origin of the board, I kindly point you towards my S.R. masterlist, specifically to Challenge Accepted…? Fair warning: it has more drama than this one.

Thank you for reading! ❤️

#kas4kwc #writing challenge #steve rogers x reader #marvel #fanfiction #mcu #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers reader insert #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america imagine #avengers #avenger reader

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blaster-aichi · 3 years

Text

IF24 speculation screaming

Preview

With all of the preview caps available, there’s been a lot to take in; from Ibuki with Majesty Lord to Emi’s fairy wings to all the boys’ younger selves playing together in the park. So this might be a tad all over the place but hoping to condense thoughts coherently.

— Emi and Aichi are both shown to be wearing their powered forms; this might be as part of a flashback which covered Emi’s first interaction with Aichi after his disappearance, allowing Shuka to remain in the season past her sacrifice. For Aichi, there seems little reason (or even if it’s possible) for him to done the Alfred costume at this stage, and with his eyes normal, I’ve my doubts that the new screencap of him takes place in the present, more so after the glimpse in the preview after IF23. Something assuming full control isn’t likely to care what state he’s in or continue any pretense that he has any control over himself. It might be in part why Aichi hasn’t paid that much attention to Ibuki, picking to brutalize Ren instead, when their history might be crucial in the foundation of IF’s story. It may come from Emi and Kai’s taking flight, comparing the Aichi of then to the one of now radiating all kinds of ominous energy or Nome’s recounting earlier events. The point for Emi when Aichi was no longer missing but the enemy; she was well aware by her and Shuka’s infiltration in the first episode and we’ve been shown notable moments through their fight, but not the moment when they discovered the identity of the Jammers’ commander-in-chief.

— Twitter Fanguards are excited at the prospect that the young boys playing in the park is a sign that the timeline’s resolution will grant the ideal timeline where no-one is left alone. To be cautiously optimistic, the thought that had come to my mind initially was the scene being a depiction of a timeline that Kai and/or Ibuki are fighting for or one they imagine might have come about if they had done something differently, sparing Aichi the anguish of his IF childhood and connecting everyone far earlier. If it’s the former, there’s hope that IF25 might serve as an epilogue to emphasize on giving us an glimpse at this perfect timeline while the Outside World characters establish all is well on their end and returning to their normal lives.

Destiny Conductor 2.0 Nome

The glow of Nome’s screencap insinuates his usage of the Akashic Records, but the smile he has is rather ominous, suggesting that his taking off after recruiting Ibuki and Suiko always had a much more sinister undertone to it. The possibility that’s been sprouting personally since Kourin was debunked as being the one pulling Aichi’s strings is that Nome has been the one in that position all along.

During the PsyZombie arc, it’s possible that, whether through Takuto or by another means, Nome became infected by Brandt’s power, positioning him as his brother’s successor. With Brandt defeated once, by taking hold of the Akashic Records, he/it was able to take an entirely different approach: if it couldn’t twist the original timeline to its will, it would use another. The starting point: the boy who crushed Brandt’s ambition.

As established by Takuto as the strongest, Aichi became the primary target of this second effort. Whether the Aichi of IF is his Outside World self pulled within the world and overwritten to live a second childhood like Kai-kun, or the one native to IF World, it works either way. — Outside World Aichi, who might have still held a fragment of Brandt’s power within him from Destiny Conductor’s direct involvement in his sealing, through his Psyqualia which has remained tainted since, thus never freeing him entirely from the power, even though he was unaware ever since, had that exploited as a seed from which his imagination would fester from the below. — IF World Aichi, whose life was monitored by Nome, to prevent any future possible encounters with Vanguard. Using the Akashic Records, Nome mapped out both Kai-kun and Aichi’s so the former’s would be as happy and peaceful as possible while the latters’ plunged him into the depths of solitude, haunting him with images of Kai-kun to ready Aichi for breaking, by his own hand or seeing Kai-kun by happenstance. As a result, Aichi’s power had no outlet and festered, spilling over ultimately when Takuto appeared and turned the key. In the scenario of Outside World Aichi, his line “it’s been a while, Kourin” would reference their time together directly, but in the case he was native to IF’s timeline, it might be Brandt speaking through him. In a manner of speaking, IF serves the same purpose as the Sanctuary from Legion Mate; a means of containing Aichi so that he can’t wreck havoc, whether in good way or bad.

The colour scheme of Aichi’s power has resembled Brandt’s and his binding Kai-kun resembled Link Joker’s (a clan with which Brandt has a connection) power to Lock — Ibuki even saying “Unlock” while Superior Realizing Harmonics Messiah — so until it’s 1000% debunked, I’m still clinging to this theory that’s been building over the past few months.

Aichi isn’t Nome/Brandt’s sole target, however. Charged with their duty to oversee the multiverse, the Tatsunagis are in the enemy’s sights. Takuto and Kourin placed half of the family within IF straight away, Rekka and Ren following and we were witness to Nome roping in Ibuki and Suiko. Aichi was used as bait in order to draw the family in its entirety within a world that is distorted to the point of requiring intervention, where the strongest fighter has been twisted into the enemy. There’s simply no coincidence about collecting them in one place, Takuto was used as the objective for Rekka and Ren. — Takuto specifically has the additional motivation of being the failed first Destiny Conductor. If Brandt has been within Aichi, that might have been reflected in his demeanour leading up to and during the meeting with Takuto; there’s not enough to discern if IF Aichi truly has the hostile side we’ve been seeing or that be a result of the current crisis. — Like Aichi, if IF Kai-kun is the Outside World version sealed, that would likewise remove him from being an immediate threat, as one of the strongest Vanguard fighters. Meaning that Ren and Ibuki, as the other greatest threats to a Brandt resurgence, were perfect candidates for the remaining Tatsunagis’ teams, bringing all the vital players for Brandt’s previous failure onto the board.

And in a world without Vanguard, a world where Aichi is overflowing with power that even he couldn’t control, it’s the perfect time for Nome to step onto the stage and reveal himself.

Emi, Kai and Aichi

The screencap of a winged Emi and Kai gives the impression that they, alone, are heading to the final battle with Aichi, and it’s tremendously fitting. Emi began this journey with one partner by her side, and this way, she would end it with one. Though the nature of that partner will have changed drastically: from someone important to her, who belongs to another world, to someone invaluable to Aichi, presumably native to the timeline with them.

The dynamic between IF Emi, Kai and Aichi is quite unique; with the state of the multiverse in mind, Emi represents the life of isolation Aichi has lived until this point, the only person who was with him throughout years of torment and loneliness. Whereas Kai embodies the possibility wrought from other timelines; what Aichi could and should have grown into, the friends around him that Aichi was meant to have connected with. They represent Aichi’s family and friends respectively, the two people most important to him in IF’s timeline where one was his reality, his daytime, and the other his long-off dream, his nighttime. Both, equally, want him back, even if it might cost the existence of the three of them — like Aichi, they’re prepared to sacrifice themselves if it means grasping what they believe is right.

For those who know Fate/Grand Order, IF very much resembles a Lostbelt, so at the resolution of the fight, with its correction, the world is likely to vanish — with anyone who belongs there. If Aichi, Emi and Kai are all native to IF — and they’re the only characters at the heart of this story who we don’t know for certain come from the Outside World — Emi and Kai separating from the others spares their friends the anguish of losing someone else right before them. The Outside World characters know the cost, but they don’t have to witness it, and can remember Emi and Kai by their happier times. Ibuki and the others instead are charged with stopping Nome’s ambition with the family and their partners gathered as well as seeing the small Kai-kun and Aichi meet, so their assignment to correct history is complete.

Emi and Kai’s battle with Aichi is a much more personal one, so they go ahead to save him by their own hands. Emi to get back the brother she’s been chasing all along, Kai to see the happiness he was gifted shared with the person who gave up so much to protect it, whom he wants to see smile by his side, who he wants to return Blaster Blade to. When Aichi is rescued, the three of them remain together, accepting the end of their world and their anguish. Kai-kun doesn’t return to his parents, having already made the choice of Aichi and the original timeline over them long ago, it serves as a demonstration for Aichi’s eyes that he won’t be left behind in the shadows anymore. After losing so much, none of the trio are alone as they watch their world fading away, reconciling and huddling or even Kai-kun and Aichi having a cardfight so that Kai can share with Aichi the fun they were supposed to have, Emi watching as her brother shows the side she’s always known him to have before someone else. It’s bittersweet, but all three of them could be united and experience true happiness at the end.

#Cardfight!! Vanguard #Cardfight!! Vanguard IF #cfv spoilers #speculation #goes out there hard for maybe one last time for this season #IF is honestly a blessing for all the fun theorizing it's brought back to me #no matter how bumpy it got at times I love it for that alone

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elmidol · 3 years

Text

Static Communications

Three Blind Tooke Part Three Death is an Art

Read on Ao3

Three Blind Tooke

Part Three: Death is an Art

Chapter Sixty-Four: Static Communications

We stand and we fall,

United/Divided in this war.

I hope that soon

We’ll achieve what we’re fighting for.

Due to his piloting expertise, Poe Dameron had been one of the individuals that had volunteered to aid in locating the various remaining First Order strongholds that were potential fortresses for Supreme Leader Armitage Hux during the final battle. Not final of the entire war, merely final of his reign. Taking comfort in this knowledge, you were able to dismiss the possibility that all Order of Ren pilots on reconnaissance missions might perish before relaying whatever information they were able to obtain. It would have also been a blow to consider that they could die after they had transmitted the data to nearby Order of Ren allies. Thus you chose to focus on what you could control alongside the positives in your life.

Ushar and Finn had taken a sort of liking to one another, and the pair practiced communications through the Force as well as with comlinks. It had been decided that Finn would lead one of the Force sensitive squadrons on the ground of whatever planet was chosen while Ushar provided further support, just as Ap’lek had discussed with you before. Rose worked with two Order of Ren officers and three technicians to develop scramblers for the comlinks that would prevent the First Order from hacking into the feed. Ushar and Finn were content to work as test dummies for the new equipment. They were seen wandering around the Star Destroyer, sometimes together and other times apart, speaking into the devices while others with standard First Order tech worked to override the scramblers used.

You sat beside Rose while sipping a mug of caf to help warm yourself. The temperature in this section of the Star Destroyer was purposefully cooler, and you wore loose garments that properly covered the bruises Kylo Ren had left on your body. He had, to no surprise from you, insisted you use bacta to lessen the damage from an assortment of the bites. You had not argued with him, aware that his concern dealt with the upcoming battle. You wanted to be at your best, and he knew this. You rolled your shoulders while watching Rose’s fingers in motion. She had finished speaking with one of the technicians and was busy making an adjustment on her own to check if one spotted error was fixed with the alteration.

She rarely looked in your direction, although this was largely due to the presence of Cardo. He set many people on edge simply by standing there. You remembered how the Resistance had treated you similarly when you had returned. This similarity allowed you to develop a stronger sense of camaraderie with Cardo, who had taken to gravitating towards you. “Will jammers baffle the scramblers?” you asked, leaning closer to inspect the device in her hands.

Rose gave a nod without hesitating. “Yeah. There aren’t many ways around that. Finn and Ushar perfecting Force communications might come in more handy in that case. Although Rey says that it drains your energy the farther away the target is.” You recalled how Snoke had bridged together Rey and Kylo’s minds; he had been the one using his energy to assist in those communications, which had then lessened the toll on the two. You sometimes took that for granted, your memory skewing events.

Cardo set a hand on the edge of the container on which you were seated. “Have a team devoted to taking out the jammers.” His voice had an echo-like quality to it that came and went. As he spoke in that moment, it was present and more pronounced with the quiet enveloping the room. An officer jumped in surprise then shuddered. You pinched your lips into a thin line while trying to keep from reacting to the others. “I’ll speak with Kylo.” Despite his words, Cardo did not dismiss himself nor walk away, which indicated that he would complete this task at an unspecified time in the future.

“Ye...yeah,” the officer that had startled most visibly stuttered out, likely to fill the awkward silence that you had allowed to descend. You were annoyed with being one of the few to acknowledge Cardo as an equal. Forcing others to do the same was for their own good in your opinion.

Inwardly you were screaming: He’s the one who just helped adjust your armor to withstand more damage, to help you survive run-ins with terror troopers. You looked over your shoulder to find that Cardo’s mask was dipped in your direction. He could sense it. All of the Knights of Ren were Force sensitive, and you were more and more convinced that absorbing some of Not-Rey’s life force during his revival had indeed increased his control over the mystical power. Where others avoided him, you wanted him beside you on the battlefield. Not that this came as any sort of surprise; you had been on missions with the Knights of Ren, and you trusted all six of them with your life just as they had trusted you with theirs.

Cardo, Kylo, and you had all three died and then come back. You were set apart from the others. Cardo’s subtle ostracization was more noticeable than yours had been. Kylo Ren self-isolated socially and thus it was easy to miss the occasions that his choice was stripped, that he was ignored. It was funny, to you, that Kylo had once upon a time mentioned the Rule of Two when your life seemed to latch onto groups of three instead.

“Okay, Finn, come get this and try again.” Rose spoke into a second comlink that was in her possession. Finn’s voice came back moments later to acknowledge her. Rose considered you. “Do you plan to be part of that team?” Your mind raced through scenarios, weighing pros and cons of devoting yourself to taking out towers that would be blocking communications. It could take you closer to Hux or it could draw you away from him. You took another sip of your caf while shrugging, committing to nothing. Rose shook her head. “We’re going to win.”

“I want to be there,” you said, lowering your mug. Before she could say anything more--her mouth was open to do so--you continued. “Not to kill him myself. I want to watch him die though. After everything he did, I want to see it.”

The discussion might have been longer had Finn not arrived, causing Rose’s attention to shift back to her job. It was unknown how swiftly the Order of Ren would have to spring into action once the information was retrieved by Poe or the other pilots. You moved up onto your feet, walking away from the group. Cardo trailed after you, his steps soft, controlled.

Your mind shifted focus, working through the list of weaponry that the First Order would deploy against the Order of Ren. The AT-M6 Walkers would be among the most troublesome due to their reinforced limbs, which would make them harder to bring down. That was where aerial support would be most beneficial. If any of these behemoths were stationed in a location that defended shields--a high likelihood--it would be best if you focused there. Bringing the shields down was imperative. The First Order’s starfighters would be picking off ground troops and Order of Ren ships alike. The AT-M6s were also armed with anti-ship cannons, which was a benefit when it came to the few that the Order of Ren was in possession of. The issue was landing them on the ground without the First Order picking of the transports first. That was not your responsibility, however it nevertheless impacted all that you would do.

Cardo brushed his arm against yours as he arrived by your side rather than following you. You switched your cup of caf to your other hand, took a sip, and gave him a nonverbal cue that you were listening. “Kylo and Rey believe that Hux may use taozin amulets. Even if we know which planet he is on, pinpointing his location will be an issue for them.”

“So… We have to buy them time.” You felt your shoulders sag as you spoke. Better understood why it was that Cardo had not commented on Rose’s question or insistence of victory. He had not wanted to seem as though he was siding with her. When it came to matters of the Force, the others were less inclined to listen to him or remain open-minded. They would have insisted on speaking with Rey first before forming an opinion. “Where will you and Ap’lek be?”

Ap’lek, you were told, would be leading one of the squadrons that contained both Force sensitives and non. Kuruk would be providing him cover; the Night Buzzard would not be in use due to its noise and the need for stealth before the battle broke out. You did not know how any of the Knights felt about this, nor did you ask. You were in favor of the decision, which would make things awkward if you learned for a fact that they were opposed to it. As for Trudgen and Vicrul, they would be working together in a unit designed to clear the way for Kylo and Rey. This left Cardo, who gestured to you, confirming that you were going to be together on the battlefield. You instantly relaxed.

“That wookie is going to be with Kylo as well. Insists it.”

Your lips twitched, although you were not able to fully smile. It was hard to say if Chewbacca wanted to be by Kylo because of their history together before Kylo had joined the First Order, or if it was because of a lack of trust. That was not even to delve into how Kylo himself felt. The arrival of Lando along with a few others that had served in the Rebellion had been met with silence from him. Lando and Chewbacca had each been close with Han. They might serve as nothing more than a reminder that Kylo had killed his own father.

A chill ran through you, one that you did your best to squash, to shrug away. Concerns regarding his reception once the war ended would wait. You were not ignoring them completely. Neither was he. Kylo Ren had chosen where to place his Knights based on strategy. The same with other members who held any leadership positions. It was another reason that Rey would be fighting at his side; she would not betray him, that you knew with an absolute certainty. This was meant to be a two-way war now that the Resistance had joined the Order of Ren. Of course, there were always radicals that would break rank at a moment’s notice to further whatever agenda they had in mind.

“They won’t be able to rely on the Force to locate Hux,” you said, returning to a different issue. One that you could better navigate, that would not drive you crazy with paranoia. “Do we have anyone or anything good at tracking?”

The echo-like quality to his voice returned when next he spoke. “Jannah stated that there was a planet her squadron explored while Snoke was in command. Akk dogs once served Jedi, and their hides are resistant to lightsabers, which will make them plenty capable in battle. She returned there after joining the Resistance. They’ve been training a few. There were other creatures as well. Orbak. They’re on a different ship in the fleet.” Now you did smile, it striking you that the Force, that the galaxy, was gathering together to fight against the First Order. It was joining under Kylo Ren, a balance being created.

You need only remind yourself that the Resistance had worked to locate First Order officers for years without being able to use the Force. You had, for one. Prior to missions, during your training, you had not been able to use the Force to complete your tasks. This nervousness that you were feeling, you were able to let some of it go, realizing that it was nothing more than a waste of time and energy.

Unaware of how much time was left to you, you decided that you would seek out your mother. Whether she would speak to you or not, you were unsure. Her moods varied. She had not recovered from the destruction of Naboo, and you doubted that she ever truly would. You drained the last of the caf from your mug on the way, handed the empty dish to a droid you passed, and asked Cardo if he wanted to be present when you visited her. He grunted, noncommittal. His presence or absence would not change a thing for you. Allowing him an opportunity to leave without it becoming awkward, however, had felt important to you.

Though he did not leave you, Cardo slowed his pace. This resulted in you being nearly a yard ahead of him when you located your mother, who was seated near a collection of supplies that were being inventoried by a team made up of former Resistance members and Order of Ren stormtroopers. She had a doll in her hands that you recognized as belonging to one of the former Resistance tech officers that had children hidden away with their father. You stared at the doll as you eliminated the last of the distance that remained. Cardo, on the other hand, fell back another few steps and stopped, possibly to offer you a bit of privacy in the rather public area. You shifted onto one of the crates that was beside hers.

You curled your legs so that your feet were no longer touching the ground and arced your body to help you grow nearer to your mother. She hugged the doll tighter to her body, her hand cupping its head against her chest. She was not in a hopeless state nor did you believe that she was feeling that death and loss were inevitable. This woman was tired. Ready for the war to end. Ready for a peace that she had believed had already arrived after the Rebellion had ended. You reached out a hand to touch hers. She did not flinch away. Her eyes drifted towards you, slipping along your hand and up your arm until she could explore your face with her gaze.

“I wanted your father to be wrong. I wanted you to be wrong.” You nodded--what else could you do? You had wanted her to be wrong as well, however you had accepted the truth. It was why you had joined the Resistance. “I’m sorry. I let this happen to you.”

A puff of air escaped your lips. You had to struggle to hold in the laugh that threatened to emerge. Bitter. Amused. Content. Relieved. It should not have taken her this long to get to this point of acceptance, and yet… And yet she was your mother. You saw at last the stubbornness that you had displayed when Kylo had tried to help you understand the gray areas of war. Stubborn, just like your mother before you. You smiled, rolled your eyes, and shook your head.

“I don’t blame you.” She nodded, whispering I know, and lowered the doll to her lap. “He won’t win. I know it won’t bring back everyone that he killed, but we are going to stop him from killing more.”

“You have your father’s strength,” your mother said, touching your shoulder. You felt your stomach swoop at her words and at the physical display of affection. “I believe in you.” Your throat felt impossibly thick with emotion, with the threat of tears. You swallowed, scooted nearer again. She wrapped her arms around you. The doll rolled onto the ground, and your mother made no move to prevent this from happening. You were her priority, her focus.

Together the pair of you sat until a chime came from a communications device that she had with her. She was helping to keep track of equipment as well as advise on political matters so that communications could be maintained with other Resistance allies that were wary when it came to the Order of Ren. Your mother patted your hands, stood, and left after giving the top of your head a kiss. You watched her go, your gaze drifting towards Cardo only after she was no longer in your line of sight.

Joining with him for a second time, neither of you said a word; there was a silent understanding for where you would be headed next. For your mother to be called away, you were under the assumption that one or more of the teams out for reconnaissance had returned or else been eliminated. You wanted confirmation on this, which meant that you planned to go straight to Kylo Ren. As Supreme Leader, he was one of the first being fed any new information. This was undisputed by the others since Rey was at his side, or at least had been the last you had been updated.

Along with Rey there were other members from the former Resistance, many of whom you recognized as having been leaders. They offered you dismissive glances before turning back to one another. The multitude of conversations that were taking place revealed that your suspicions were correct. You passed two of the Knights of Ren before arriving in front of Kylo. He flicked through information displayed on a datapad as a mini holoprojection was expanded to give a more detailed layout of one potential base on which Hux might be hiding.

“What planet?” you asked, keeping your voice low so that you did not interrupt anyone.

It was Rey who answered you. “Bakura.” She turned next to Cardo. “I was discussing possible pieces of armor that would be quick for you to help me with.” She pinched at the white cloth that she wore, and you wondered how it was she had kept it from growing dirty as well as where she had gotten it from. The two left together, their voices fading and quickly drowned out by distance and other discussions.

Kylo Ren did not speak although he seemed to you to relax as you drew nearer to him now that Rey was no longer present. You read the report without any interference. There might have been members in the room who would have objected to you looking at the data before some of your superiors, but if there were then they kept their mouths closed. Getting into petty squabbles or irritating Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was not going to benefit anyone besides the First Order. Four individuals joined together to form a group as another transmission came through. You wondered if it was another team returning or if it was a report of failure and death.

“How likely do you think it is that he’s using Bakura?” you asked, twisting back around after observing the group. He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head that you were able to take note of solely because his hair shifted. You crossed your arms over your chest, let your head loll back, and stared up at the ceiling. Given the fact that the data regarding Bakura indicated a generous amount of life, you should have been pleased. Instead you were frustrated that the information sought remained elusive--unless the new report would prove to be exactly what the Order of Ren required.

Kylo flicked the data away in favor of pulling out a different report, one that detailed how the Order of Ren would be divided in the upcoming hours. The First Order had many resources at its disposal that it could use to destroy and enslave more of the galaxy while its enemies focused on the mission of killing Supreme Leader Hux. This was another reason that your mother’s work remained important. The connections that she had with others would aid in convincing them to, even if only temporarily, joining the Order of Ren in its endeavor to fully defeat the First Order. Waiting for another to crown themselves Supreme Leader before engaging in battle with any not in the same sector as the fleet defending Hux would hand them victories, would cost lives that could be spared. These allies could pull together available ships and pilots. Smugglers, rogues, pirates, anyone who was willing to fight against the First Order. This was not about absolving people of past crimes or grievances so much as winning the war.

One of the documents available for your viewing was a list of individuals who would hold lead positions in these other battles. Near the top was Lando Calrissian. You could not say that you were surprised with this or with other names that were familiar to you from both the former Resistance and original Order of Ren members. Beside their names were expandable lists that contained information on personnel and vehicles along with weaponry that would be devoted to their units. Kylo slid the device from his hands into yours before reaching for another on which he was able to access the same information.

You muttered out a quick thanks while expanding the lists. Jannah would be working with Lando, the Orbaks going with them save for a small number necessary for other missions. Their cover would come from old Rebellion allies that had remained in contact with Lando as well as rogues from his past. Other Force sensitive stormtroopers and officers would accompany him, although their numbers were minimal. Given their destination, which would be key in securing more weaponry from the First Order, it made sense. Rose was set to go with them, which you understood was due to her capabilities as a technician. She would be working with slicers to take control of one of the First Order’s remaining planetary training facilities, which potentially held records that could identify silent partners that might work against the Order of Ren when the battles ended. Lando would be given the Millennium Falcon for the mission.

“Supreme Leader, we may have received confirmation of Hux’s whereabouts.” Your head snapped quickly enough that your neck gave a protesting crack. Setting a hand against the area, you massaged it while listening to the report, which had come originally from Poe Dameron. It was the amount of weaponry on an Outer Rim planet that had heightened the Order of Ren’s suspicion of the area. That had been increased. Walkers were in place, shields raised, frequencies jammed on one side of the planet. Along with one of the scouting party’s ships there had been three starships that had entered real space near First Order Star Destroyers only to be shot down. They were taking no chances. Too hostile. And they were already aware of the Order of Ren’s intentions to hunt them.

Poe had had the foresight to send in members of his squad from different angles, which had allowed one of the parties to properly infiltrate the planet for a cursory scan, which had been uploaded to their ship’s databanks then transmitted to two others in case they were shot down. It was thanks to this strategy that the Order of Ren was in possession of the information. The pilot had been killed shortly after completing this final act of duty. You said a silent thanks and hoped that their death had been swift, that they had not had to suffer. Poe had met with a different Order of Ren Star Destroyer to relay the information since the vessel would be more capable of long-range transmissions whereas his X-wing was not. There had not yet been a return from Poe or his squad members, and there would not be. They were ready to fight, did not want to risk endangering the flagship with a hyperspace jump. The Star Destroyer in question that he had gone to had already been in position to fight should the situation call for it.

Kylo Ren seized your upper arm and began to steer you towards the door. “Allocate resources for the remaining targets. Ready all squadrons.” He pointed to Kuruk. “Ensure we have all necessary data.” Kuruk gave a stiff nod, passed the two of you on his way to the officer that you had just left, and began speaking. “You will land with me.”

That was one of the most dangerous parts--getting past the fleet and making it to the ground. You appreciated that he wanted to protect you, to ensure that whatever ship transported you to the planet was not obliterated. His long strides were making you jog to keep up; you would have been walking faster naturally, however your mind was working through where each person you knew would be. Kylo had a comlink on his person that he raised to his mouth, speaking to someone who released an inhuman response. Chewbacca, your mind supplied. The wookie was being informed that he would not be on the same ship. It was not a permanent separation, Kylo argued, his voice stern, leaving no room for argument. In order to infiltrate such a well-guarded stronghold, the wisest course of action was to attack from both sides. This would divide the First Order’s resources as well, would prevent the First Order from relying on its ability to potentially fatigue Kylo before he reached his destination. They could not attack in layers. A grumble from Chewbacca indicated that he understood even if he did not fully agree with the fact that he would not be at Kylo’s side.

There was a fondness to Chewbacca’s tone, or so you believed, that helped to calm you. Blood was not the only kind of family. Kylo had more who accepted him than he knew, even if they had a strange way of showing their support. They would learn one another in time.

In the meantime, you had to focus on the upcoming battle. As Kylo released your arm, you were already starting to split off in order to finish gearing up. You knew where to meet him without being told. It had been one of the first things discussed before scouts had been sent out. This way no time would be wasted with needless scrambling. Already there were announcements sounding through speakers. You did not listen to any of those. You required no instructions. Others, though, paused in their steps. Thankfully they were aware enough to step off to the side, which prevented any pileups from occurring. You raced past multiple groups. Gradually your speed increased until you were running at top speed. You did not need a name for the planet, whichever one it was, to choose what armor you would wear. The one that Cardo had modified regulated your body temperature for multiple terrains. The majority of the handicaps that had existed since you had been impaled by Kylo Ren’s lightsaber all that time ago would not stop you as they would have before.

As you dressed and readied, you were on your commlink, receiving updated targets and lists of locations in the form of coordinates that would be pertinent to your assigned tasks. You listened more than you spoke. What few words you did speak were to request confirmation on anything you might have misheard or to gain a name for individuals you would be in contact with. Visual data was sent to you, which you scrolled through at a fast pace. There would be things you might miss, however you did your best to commit everything to memory and would be relying on your allies to assist in filling any gaps that might exist in your knowledge just as they would do with you.

Your mother was waiting by the ship that would take you to your destination when you arrived in the docking bay. Kylo Ren slipped an item into her hand, and then she was turning to you, speaking and completing the task she had set out to do before you could respond. She, too, understood that there was no time to be wasted. You would figure out what was said after you were on your way to the planet. The transport was capable of hyperspace jumps, which allowed this flagship to be left out of battle and used instead as a base of operations and supply house.

Other Star Destroyers would join the transports for the battle and provide cover. Many of those were also in possession of the Walkers, which would be deployed as quickly as possible. From the ramp of the ship, you watched your mother head for a different transport that would take her to safety. You turned back around after releasing a quick breath. You did not want to cause any delays, did not want sentiment to interfere and cause the deaths of everyone onboard. Which would, in turn, more than likely cause the defeat of the Order of Ren.

Aris did not look back like this. She was brave, you though while nodding and settling into place. The others joined you in fastening themselves into the ship. Some, like you, used the restraints. Others had the Force to anchor them to their seats so that no amount of turbulence would jostle them. The ramp lifted. You heard other ships going through the same motions all around. Some would be joining you, while others had different destinations. Poe Dameron would be there already. So, too, would ships that belonged to other Resistance allies. Order of Ren allies, you corrected yourself, finding fault with the continual separation into two entities.

The jump occurred when the ship was a safe distance away from others after exiting the docking bay. From the view port, you were able to watch the dots of stars elongate into streaks. You closed your eyes, settled back, and felt your helmet hit against your seat. There were coughs, the sounds of breathing, small noises; nothing that could be constituted as conversation, yet there was no full silence in the cabin of the transport. It almost took you back in time to when you had first joined the Resistance and were headed for a new base with other recruits. No one wanting to say anything stupid. Everyone waiting to see if someone else would speak.

It was the pilot who began talking, outlining the two units that were inside the transport. Reminding each individual of their mission. Not that anyone was dumb. It was all too easy to become overwhelmed when you landed on the ground, though, and this was truer now more than ever. You could lose focus due to the fact that you knew Armitage Hux was down there. The Akk dogs would be ready to seek him. If there were no taozin amulets, Kylo and Rey would have the Force to locate him. You did not want to be away from them for any period of time, however it was going to happen. Based on the information that had been used to brief everyone, there was no way around it.

It was not a heavily forested planet though neither was it a desert. There would be an assortment of flat lands on which the Walkers would have an advantage. No high grounds with cover that you could use to shoot at enemies from a distance. You had a list of names from other transports--just as they had your name--and a frequency to use in areas that comms worked. Poe Dameron had your number as well, so to speak. He had asked for you by name--by Supernova, which had made you smile--and you had immediately agreed to be his eyes on the ground.

Exiting hyperspace, you again watched out of the view port to count the number of Super Star Destroyers that the First Order had present. The Order of Ren’s were arriving all around. Streaks of blaster fire gave light to the darkness of space. The pilot and copilot of the transport ignored this aside from ensuring that the ship was not struck. The ship headed nearer to the planet, breaking atmosphere in under a minute of entering real space.

What called upon the storm could have been any number of things, yet you somehow did know that it was a natural phenomenon rather than made by man. Starships caught by lightning strikes would go on the fritz. That was not something that Armitage Hux, as desperate as he might have been growing, would risk. He was patient, not foolish. The cover of the storm’s darkness would give an advantage to the Order of Ren’s ground troops once they made land. It had been wise for Rey to abandon her white clothing in favor of garbing herself in black. The armor that Cardo had assisted in fashioning for her was lightweight, much like what you wore. She did not have a helmet like you did. That might have been too great a difference that swiftly turned into a hindrance. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the starfighters that were ahead of the ship you were in. You leaned forward to look at them. Felt Kylo shift in the seat to your right, no doubt observing you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, setting your limbs trembling. Your teeth clattered together before you clenched your jaw to silence the sounds. There was a vibroblade sheathed at your hip. A second on your ankle. A pistol on your other hip. The blaster rifle that would serve as your main weapon was in your hands, its safety currently on. X-wings and Y-wings both were flying alongside the transports that carried stormtroopers, officers, and the Knights that were in different squadrons. Your heart felt like a hammer pounding against your chest, threatening to burst through your sternum and ribs. Finn and the others were out there. Poe Dameron was in an X-wing, though you did not know which. It was too dark to tell.

The Walkers being deployed met resistance in the form of First Order ships, ground-to-air missiles, and other Walkers. Across from you, Cardo was drumming out a gentle beat with two fingers. This was not to calm himself. He was calm, eerily so, not dissimilar to how Kylo and Rey displayed a sense of peace that most others were deprived of. You would have been more calm if it were not for the fact that you were meant to temporarily split away from Kylo Ren. Underneath your armor, you wore the chain that held your wedding rings. Some strange reminder that you were always together--it had been your mother’s idea, and you were unsure how you felt about it now that the departure loomed so near.

Another flash of lightning, this one crackling, spreading, capturing a ship with its might. Your heart stuttered, your mind working to identify which side it belonged to. Should you cheer for its failure? Pray that it recovered? You closed your eyes and made an attempt to rid yourself of all thought. You had to focus, to ground yourself, or you would drive yourself insane. This was not difficult for you to do when you set your mind to it. The Resistance--Ip specifically--had taught you well. These practices were how you had survived against Kylo when he had been your enemy, when he had been working to break you. When Armitage Hux had worked to break you as well.

The landing gears were deployed. Shuddering, the ship rocked as it began to lower its ramp before it was fully down. All around you there were people unlatching themselves. You felt your restraints sliding off of you as well. You were on your feet, opening your eyes only after you had started to head in the direction of the ramp. Cardo was at your side, Rey behind you along with some of the troops, and Kylo was in front of you. His cape billowed behind him without allowing the hood to whip off his head. It would protect him from the rain, the droplets of which were thin, reminiscent of needles that felt as though they wished to cut through your flesh.

Kylo Ren activated his lightsaber the moment he was clear of piercing any equipment or allies. In the skies above the ships engaged one another. TIEs circled, the same ships that had tried to shoot you down on the entire journey to the planet’s surface. You spared a quick look at the sky to witness the Star Destroyers firing at one another. Hundreds of thousands of lives would be lost with every one of them that was destroyed. You sent a silent prayer to any and all deities that those losses would be First Order lives. Your feet carried you towards Kylo, your heart aching with the foreknowledge that the minutes were transforming into seconds before the parting would occur. You should have continued to watch the sky or the enemies moving on the ground, however you chose to observe him. The grace with which he walked. The power that he utilized when carving through the first of his adversaries as though they were nothing, which was precisely what he had reduced them to.

Cardo tapped on your shoulder. You jerked your gaze away, forcing yourself to, aware that if you did not then you never would. With a nod, you assessed your surroundings. Durasteel structures melded with the natural formations of the land, which was not entirely different than Starkiller Base had been save for the absence of snow and the reduced amount of trees. You crouched, slipping along one of the other transports and using it as a shield from enemy fire. Cardo prepared one of his concussion grenades, sending it towards an AT-M6 that had cut through one of those belonging to the Order of Ren. The two of you paused after taking cover behind another transport, which shook. You grunted, your legs tingling as the ground shook beneath you. Cardo’s body shielded yours, which you knew to be in case any fire from blasts made its way too near. His flame-resistance Riftiaworm-hide coat was one you would have otherwise envied.

The stormtroopers and two officers that were assigned to stick nearby rejoined the pair of you when the trembling of the earth under your feet lessened. It would not fade entirely, not with all the explosions nor with the Walkers that were heading towards one another. One of them brought up a comlink, speaking into it to gather intel on which other squadrons were in their proper locations. There was a jamming device closer to the compound. Delaying going further until more of you were in place would be wise, however you could not expect to have time be a resource that could be wasted. Your finger flicked the safety off your blaster rifle while the officer received a response from two of the other squadrons and three pilots that would be able to provide cover for a short period unless an enemy managed to chase them away.

“As we discussed,” Cardo said, his voice so clear through the chaos because of its inhuman quality, “I will damage any shields around the tower. You aim for its weak spot.” You nodded, a frown pulling at your lips. It was easier said than done. The blueprints that had been available in the information gathered by Dameron’s team during recon could be old. They had not had much time to get in and out, and what they had managed to obtain had been added to old files from the Order of Ren’s days as the other half of the First Order. Fast repairs or alterations would have eliminated the weak spot, in which case the enemy would know your position and be able to attack before anyone had an opportunity to adjust strategy. “Keep her covered.” Each of the others in the squad gave verbal confirmation. Now that you were in battle, there was no fear of the Knight from them.

Take out the jammers so that we can communicate while destroying the inner shields. That way Kylo and Rey can work on tracking Hux. Inhaling deeply, you calculated the distance from your current position to the next transport shuttle. Just as you were finishing, you swore aloud; a Walker fired upon it in unison with a First Order TIE on a strafing run. The transport exploded, its shredded parts flying across the battlefield. Those sliced through enemies and allies indiscriminately. A stormtrooper to your left fumbled their weapon. You reached out with one hand to assist them. Grateful that they had not removed the safety from their weapon, you advised them that they do so as well as be more careful. This was not their first battle.

“It’s my largest one yet,” they said, not arguing so much as expressing how small they felt. You sympathized, nodding, and giving a verbal you’ll be fine, stick by me that you hoped would not become a falsehood.

A different stormtrooper took lead after finding a different path to take. You followed without comment, as did your other allies. Cardo walked behind you, firing in the direction of a group of enemy soldiers that were on land mounts, some organic and others machine. He took out two-thirds of them easily, damaging and injuring others. Three stormtroopers fired their weapons after him, picking off even more. You spared a glance over your shoulder at them, chose to leave them to it so that your weapon would be at the ready should you encounter more First Order troops coming in the opposite direction.

The tower was coming into your field of vision as you ventured farther away from the transport shuttle that had taken you to the planet. Surrounding it were multiple weapons turrets and another three Walkers that were further guarded by ground troops stationed behind a barricade and weak shields. Damaged ships and firefights brightened the dark sky between bursts of lightning. You touched a button on your armor that activated a tiny electronic torch that was attached to your helmet. You did this in bursts then shut off the light, waiting a mere handful of seconds before receiving a response from another team. They would work with Cardo to bring down the obstacles that would prevent you from destroying the tower.

“Once the third team is in place, we need to go for it,” you said, earning a grunt of disagreement from an ally who went on to voice that they wanted to wait for more aerial support and a fourth squadron. “In the meantime they’ll pick us off. You think the enemy won’t have noticed those signals?” Your tone was harsh, just as you had intended. Instead of recoiling, the officer countered with the accusation that you should have waited if that was such a concern.

Cardo shoved the man with his forearm, the one without the arm cannon, and looked directly at you. “You don’t want to wait.” You gestured to the sky milliseconds before a fresh flash of lightning struck. “The storm is getting closer.” A nod from you. This effectively silenced the officer, who had been ready to speak against the Knight as well as you. He was bold, and you had to respect that on some level. What you did not respect was his foolishness, his inability to properly survey his surroundings and account for the presence of the storm.

Thankfully he seemed to have caught onto the fact that he had been in the wrong. He held his tongue, nodded, and worked with you and Cardo rather than against you. The Knight of Ren kept you covered with his body as best he could while also providing proper offensive and defensive shots that eliminated many of your enemies. As had been stated, your position was not entirely secure due to the signaling. The third unit, however, was swift in falling into place. As the storm overhead raged on, Cardo and the others began to target the shields that prevented the tower from being hit by the shot that you were meant to take. You ensured that you did not empty your weapon’s power when you directed it at First Order troops that managed to survive the blasts from your allies.

Two X-wings streaked past from overhead. You knew them by the sound of their engines, and so you did not look up, which allowed you to keep focus on the target at the other end of your scope. The shields were weakening. You noticed blasts slipping through cracks in the barrier, and you would have been at a choice position to fire at the tower if not for the fact that the First Order was readying a more volatile assault. You swore as Cardo seized hold of your arm. He yanked you along with him, and your allies shuffled to keep up as a lobbed grenade landed where you had just been. A shout of agony alerted you to the fact that not everyone had made it. Your stomach churned, but you did not look back. Had you done so, had you paused for even a second, you would have been crushed by debris that rolled through and silenced the cries of pain.

“There are four others who will attempt the shot if I can’t, right?” you asked, seeking clarification more because doubt had begun to seep into you. That was the plan, however some individuals would ignore these commands in favor of fulfilling other duties that were not tentative in nature. Cardo muttered something under his breath, something that you did not quite catch and that he did not repeat. You dismissed it, decided that you did not care about the answer, and checked your surroundings to better recenter yourself. You were farther away from the direction that Kylo had headed. This realization had you gritting your teeth, a snarl breaking out across your face. That was two things wrong already.

I have dealt with worse odds, you reminded yourself as Cardo’s helmet turned in your direction. You wondered what it was that he felt through the Force, or if he was simply more familiar with you personally now to the extent that he could read and predict your moods. The Knights of Ren had been enjoying battles since before the First Order had revealed itself. Likely since before the Resistance had been formed, you mused. You appreciated his calm demeanor.

“Get me closer to the tower. I’m firing.” The words left your lips as your group merged with one of the others. There were nods and voices murmuring agreement. Some of the members fanned out in order to ensure that you were all not a single, easy target for the enemy. The ground reverberated under the feet of Walkers, which had started to pepper the area in front of themselves with blaster fire. You noticed that the First Order held little regard for the lives of their stormtroopers. They fell just as swiftly as did your allies. More quickly, in fact. Defect. It’s not too late. If you don’t, I will kill you.

Though you thought this, you knew that you would not be targeting any of them for the next several minutes. The Order of Ren soldiers around you would, however, and you trusted them to properly cover you so that you could fulfill your mission. As soon as you did so, you were going to break away from this group. You had to find Kylo, and you knew that Cardo was aware of your plan. He would come with you. There was no need to speak about this, to discuss what was going to happen the moment you downed the jammer.

Lightning struck and thunder roared; another ship was caught in one of nature’s snares in the sky. It began spinning on its descent, crashing into one of the Walkers, which was pushed off-balance. It rocked against its neighbor, both of them shaking. The starfighter exploded, its force successfully shoving the two Walkers onto their sides. Death traveled along the land. It swept through the huge wave of carnage that had resulted from that single lightning strike.

This granted you an opportunity to rush for a new position that was superior to the one at which you were originally set to take the shot. You thanked whatever it was that had allowed this--fate, a deity, chance, random luck. Dropping down to one knee, you took a steadying breath. Your allies were spread out around you, not one of them obscuring your vision. If an enemy targeted your group, you would be one of the last hit save for if some freak accident occurred. You were completely grateful for the bravery exhibited by those you fought alongside. It was because of them that you were at long last able to take the shot so that you could focus next on rejoining Kylo Ren.

#kylo ren x reader #three blind tooke #death is an art #kylo ren fanfic #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x you

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gworlinterrupted · 4 years

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Dreamboy Episode 6: Jupiter’s Lifeless Moons transcript

Hi! I was looking online to see if anyone had been doing Dreamboy transcripts and I saw that there was nothing after episode five, so I’ve started on the rest, episode six first. Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I’m dealing with lots of run on sentences here. Anyway I hope you enjoy, more transcripts to come (I’m gonna try to do all the bonus episodes and such). Also: if you’re looking to hire a transcriptionist for your podcast or anything else please feel free to shoot me a message, I’m always looking for work

Enjoy! If you’d rather have a pdf copy I’d be happy to send that to you too.

DANE

The dream is different this time. It starts in the dark like always, but this time I'm laying down. I’m curled up on something rough. I lift my head up. I feel like I'm moving. Oh my god, I’m inside the fish. I’m laying on its tongue. But it’s like it’s tongue is the whole bottom of the inside of the fish, and the inside of the fish is huge. It’s like the whole thing is hollow, and it has ridges like the inside of a throat. I stand up and look around. It’s daytime outside and the light is coming through the mouth and eyes like windows. I just stare at that ghostly daylight face, swaying slowly side to side as the fish swims. I have this sudden urge to look out, to look out of the mouth. So I walk to the front of the tongue. I walk right up to its giant jaws. The bones lay open just a little bit, and then they close and I feel the water come in, wash over my face, push my hair back. Outside I can see the tops of rocky spires, like underwater mountains or something, passing underneath us, and I want to see, I want to look but that means I have to lean my head out of its mouth, between its jaws. I think about it. Another intake of water blows my hair back.

[WATER RUSHES IN]

The mouth is exactly the height of my head, and I reach out and touch the bone jaw, and then I pull my hand back and wait. Nothing. Maybe the fish doesn’t know I’m in here. I reach out and touch the jaw again, but this time I leave my hand on it. Nothing. Just the rhythm of swimming. God, it feels so sharp. I swallow, and I lean my head out over the razor edge, and I look down into the water at the rocky spires passing underneath, but they aren’t spires, they’re not mountains, they’re buildings. The tops of tall skyscrapers all fuzzy and covered in moss and algae. It’s a whole city. It’s downtown Cleveland.

[SWOOSHING NOISES]

DANE

I wake up. The bright, late morning sun is coming through the windows of the guest bedroom, and my hand immediately goes to my dick, but it’s soft.

[SOFT MUSIC]

DANE

I get up and put on my wrinkled red shirt and slog my way to the zoo for work. On my way I text Luke, just a simple “hey, WYD”, but he doesn’t answer. He never responded to my goodnight text last night, either. Like, maybe he’s mad? About the cakes? I don’t know. I almost walk into traffic because I'm staring at the message thread. I stop at Settler’s Coffee, and I text him again. I say “I had another fish dream, they’re getting weirder.” I watch my phone intently as I cream and sugar my coffee. I use the simple syrup even though it’s hot coffee, just to have a hand free for my phone. But nothing. I get to work. Maybe he’s still asleep. He is pretty nocturnal. Work is stupid, we’re understaffed so I spend six and a half hours straight at the roller coaster podium. I stop saying that whole de-briefing room line about three hours in, and I text Luke a few more times, but he still doesn’t answer. And then I run out of things to text without feeling like a crazy creep. Now it’s a half an hour before close and I'm only just now getting a lunch break because Tammy Jammers, who usually watches the ride while I’m out on break, called out sick today. She said she had food poisoning, but I know she’s just hungover. Her last Instagram post was at three A.M. last night, and it was a picture, taken with a flash, of Taco Bell that she put on a plate. I go out to the main drag to get food like I always do, but the only food place still open is the hot dog stand, and I just can’t with those. They’re like the same temperature and texture as a human body so they make your mouth feel like it’s kissing someone you don’t like. Hot dog? Lukewarm dog more like. A breeze blows. [sighs] It’s getting colder, so I go back inside into the hall of history which is just this longstupid hallway

[OPERA ARIA IN BACKGROUND]

in the same building as the roller coaster. I have to walk through it every day when I go on lunchbreak, but I never actually stop because I only get thirty minutes for lunch break, and it takes twenty minutes just to get through the fucking food line, so I have to run through there, and it’s just like dusty plaques and old maps and stuff. There’s like a few old exhibits that don’t work. It’s, like, where grandparents go to hang out on hot days. Which you would think meant that they had more places to sit down, but.... I look down at my phone again. Nothing. There’s also this weird music playing, and it’s skipping like…. I look up and see a wall with the words “who's who” painted really big on the top of it, and underneath there’s like a bunch of buttons with flaps. I run my finger around one of the buttons and just like accidently the button pushes in and this voice recording starts to play. It’s Kritch!

ELI KRITCH

You love grapes and naps. Before your life here at the Pepper Heights Zoo, you were an animal pioneer for NASA and actually went into space! After that, you spent many years at an interstate sideshow in the Florida Panhandle doing a high society routine. To this day you still listen to opera to fall asleep. Which Pepper Heights animal friend are you?

DANE

The recording ends. I lift up the flap. It says “you are the chimpanzee, Madam Beauregard.” Great. That’s creepy. I look back down at my phone. Still nothing. It’s not that I like... it’s not that I like need to talk to him or anything, it’s just that, like, it’s just the not knowing is fucking awful. Like, just text me back! How hard is it to text somebody back? I look back at the wall. There’s an arrow pointing to a smaller button next to Madam Beauregard’s name, and it says “push button to hear your favorite aria”, but the music is stuck in which totally explains the skipping music. Jesus Christ, it’s probably an actual CD player behind this fucking wall with this place. I look at my phone. Fucking nothing. Earlier in the day, right after I asked if he was mad, I saw the little dots

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

You know, the little dots that mean somebody’s typing back. And I… I watched them, and then they disappeared and they never started again.

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

And ever since then my head has just been full of all the little voices that say all the little things..

VOICES [sung] Where is Luke?

Ughhh Jesus fuck, now they have music. That’s great.

VOICES [sung[

Where is Luke?

DANE

Yeah I don’t really care where he’s at. And why are there so many buttons in this exhibit? Like, there’s no way there’s this many animals that still live here. Like, most of the exhibits are shut down, these animals are probably dead.

VOICES [sung]

Losers

DANE

And the seven that are here are like not the kind of animals you want to push a button and hear about, right?

VOICES [sung]

Losers

DANE They’re like, retired circus freaks and movie animals that can’t work anymore.

VOICES [sung]

Losers, losers, losers

DANE

It’s like this whole place just attracts washed up showbiz animals.

VOICES

Just like you!

DANE

[sighs] Yeah thanks I connected that. I look down at my phone. Again. Nothing. Again. I don’t even know why I keep checking. I mean, I turn my vibration notifications on so I wouldn’t have to check but I still check. So I open up instagram to see if he’s posting there, but he’s not. It’s just the picture that he posted late last night. The one of the blue hand on his neck that we took in front of the tunnel. It’s already got like three thousand likes, Jesus Christ. I check my texts again. Why am I checking it, I'm holding it. So I open up Grindr. I check his profile. He’s not on. It says he hasn’t been on in hours. So I open up my texts again and I just look at it, I just LOOK. UGHH why won’t he text?!

VOICES

Cause he’d rather spend time with strange old men than talk to me.

DANE

It’s like they practice in there while I’m sleeping, Jesus. I look back up from my phone. Now I’m in front of some sort of ice age diorama, like, why? There’s a caveman standing over a wolf that he’s just killed, and there’s blood everywhere. And behind that, really small in a cave, there’s a woman and a child, waiting for him all terrified. But right next to the cave in the dark where you can’t see is another wolf, and nobody sees it. And then another face appears in the glass. I turn around. It’s Kritch. Or, like, Kritch’s face, on a TV, in an exhibit on the opposite wall. I walk over. He’s younger. It’s weird seeing young Kritch, I mean it’s like still my boss but, you know, smoother. It’s some sort of like special news piece from like twenty years ago.

KRITCH

Oh I certainly think the people over at Stonefall Labs can appreciate what we are doing over here. And for the record I do not believe that they are covering up any discoveries of alien life. That’s quite frankly preposterous. I can assure you they were in fact only only doing a geological survey of the moons of Jupiter, on contract from NASA, like they say. I just think they came up at the end of that, did more to make a big deal of it, we all have swings and misses sometimes, but I thought I’d take my own swing.

DANE

Boy, his smile hasn’t changed, that’s for sure. The video ends and there’s a black screen with a logo that says “The Zenarc Corporation”. I see my face in the screen.

[SWOOSHING NOISES/MUSIC]

DANE

It’s taken me a couple weeks of working here to piece it all together, but I do sort of know a little bit about what Kritch’s talking about in this video. See, in the late fifties the Stonefalls built this private research and development site called Stonefall Labs on the other side of the woods from the zoo. All sorts of things were developed there over the years, everything from, like, ketchup recipes and zip-ties to lots of darker things I’m sure we don’t know about. Like they famously patented the first answering machine, for example. It was as big as a room. It got sabotaged by this secret group of secretaries, though. Which is a cool story, but later. Anyway, because of some sort of technology that they had patented, they got a contract from NASA in the eighties to survey Jupiter’s moons to look for the possible presence of a specific isotope of helium called helium two. Now, scientists thought helium two was going to be like the rocket fuel of the future, it was going to revolutionize space exploration they thought. And this was all public knowledge there was even a little article in the paper, but nobody really cared. However, Stonefall labs found nothing. Zip. And at first they just said that there was problems with their equipment, but then weeks went by and then months and they said nothing. And they stayed quiet for so long that it started to attract attention, and people started to say maybe they in fact had found something a lot more interesting than helium deposits on the moons of Jupiter. Which, of course, that blew up like a house fire and pretty soon there was this huge conspiracy theory and speculation and a media frenzy. But at the same time while that was all going on, the young Elias Kritch had just taken over the helm of the Pepper Heights Zoo from his late father, Eddie. Despite the fact that another Kritch in charge of the zoo was like the last thing the Stonefalls wanted. But Eli was intent on leaving his mark, and he vowed to turn the zoo into a profitable enterprise, rather than just another suckling on the Stonefall money teet. So he said “I have an idea, how about a full on theatrical roller coaster experience called Jupiter’s Lifeless Moons”. The whole story inspired by the controversy. It was supposed to be this stepping stone into becoming a real amusement park, but he never made the money back. Like not even close. He put the zoo into permanent debt. The Stonefalls never let him live it down. And it only took a couple of years before the entire context was completely buried anyway. Pretty soon, nobody remembered anything at all about the Stonefall Lab’s Jovian lunar survey scandal, you know. But the ride stayed and here it is after all these years. The video starts to replay, Kritch starts talking again, and I start to walk away but I notice something I didn't see before: a rough disk with a hole in it hanging from a string around young Kritch’s neck. A disk with a hole in the middle… John Stonefall. What the…. I check my phone.

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Still nothing.

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Why can’t he just text back?

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Whatever.

LADY 1 [sung]

And could he really actually like me?

DANE

Yeah, probably not.

LADY 1 [sung]

Maybe I fucked it all up again

DANE

Probably.

LADY 1 [sung]

Maybe I’ll never know again

DANE

Whoa, that seems a little melodramatic

LADY 1 [sung]

Why do I even care?

DANE

You know, I don’t even care

LADY 1 [sung]

Do I even care?

DANE

No. I don’t think I even care.

LADY 2 [sung]

This is textbook patriarchal communication

MAN 1 [sung]

Maybe he’s not answering for a reason

DANE

I.. I know he’s mad at me for eating his cakes.

VOICES

Guilt!

DANE

Which, I did eat his cakes.

VOICES

Guilt!

DANE And lie to him

VOICES

Guilt! Guilt!

DANE

Ughhhhh

DANE [sung] Why do I feel guilty?

VOICES [sung]

Resentment

DANE [sung] I mean it’s not that big of a deal, Cora’s just a crazy lady.

VOICES [sung] Resentment

DANE [sung]

And the cakes were sent to the wrong house

LADY 2 [sung] I don’t know if that is true

DANE [sung] Why do I care? I don’t even like him at all

VOICES [sung] Where is Luke?

DANE Wanna know where he’s at? I’ll tell you where he’s at.

DANE [sung]

He’s off somewhere being young and stupid

HIGH VOICES [sung]

Haul him off, haul him off, haul him off!

DANE [sung]

He’s off somewhere not knowing what he wants

VOICES [sung] We just met

DANE

Yeah, we just met.

VOICES [sung]

We just met!

DANE [sung] He’s too laid back

LOW VOICES [sung] Too laid back

HIGH VOICES [sung]

Sleeps on the floor of an empty house

DANE [sung] I wish I could sleep on the floor in an empty house…. But I can’t!

DANE

Cause I have real responsibilities

DANE [sung]

Like he doesn’t do anything

HIGH VOICES [sung]

Do anything

DANE [sung]

Maybe he does and I just haven’t asked

VOICES [sung] Do anything, I didn’t do anything

DANE [sung] Maybe I’m the one

VOICES [sung] NOPE

DANE

Being a total dick

VOICES [sung] NOPE DANE Maybe I’m being a dick

VOICES [sung] I didn’t do anything

VOICE 1 [sung]

He’s just a narcissistic twink!

DANE Yeah

VOICE 1 [sung]

He’s just a narcissistic twink! DANE

Yeah

VOICES [sung]

A narcisistic, masochistic, fetishistic, sorta cryptic, dirty little selfish fucking twink! Who would rather be hit by strange old men than talk to me.

DANE Yeah, but I don’t care.

VOICES [sung] I don’t care!

DANE

I gotta get outta here. Where are the doors, where are the doors, I just need some air. I fall through the double doors, out onto the main drag. Oh, god….The air is cool, but it feels good. There’s, like, silence for a minute. At least in my head. I hear an age-guesser guessing his last customer somewhere.

[AGE GUESSER SPEAKING IN BACKGROUND]

DANE A smattering of laughing through the trees.

[LAUGHTER]

DANE

And I reach for my phone out of like instinct.

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

But then I stop myself because this is stupid

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Like it's annoying that...

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke? DANE Like there’s some, some sort of..

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke? DANE

My body seems to have a question. Like a body question.

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

That it keeps asking.

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where…

DANE

My phone vibrates in my pocket! I pull it out. It’s a Grindr message. I open up the app. Oh, he’s cute. His message just says “hey”. It also says he’s only 200 feet away. I look up and look around. I don’t see anyone who looks like him. I look back at his profile. He’s playfully flexing his arm in his photo and making a goofy face, standing shirtless and soaking wet next to a pool in someone’s backyard somewhere, and his dark hair looks darker because it’s wet, and his underarm hair is pasted to his body in little black flames. His headline says Alex. I look at the time. I have twenty minutes. [sighs] Fuck it. “Hey”, I say. “What’s up”, he says. “On break”, I say. “Me too”, he says. “You work at the zoo?” “No, Stonefall Labs. I came to get a hot dog”. Wow, yuck, really? But I couldn't pass up the opportunity for a bad joke so I said “ah, you like weiners, huh”. Coy emoji.”LOL, yep”, he says. Then, “do you?”, and immediately he sends a picture of his dick. Whoa. Fuck, it’s huge. It’s thicker in the middle and curves really dramatically, and it’s so hard in the picture that it looks like a dead thing that’s swollen up on the side of a path. “Wow” I say, “I’d love to put that in my mouth some time.” Coy face. “You should”, he says, “how about now?” “Where”, I say. “Men’s bathroom by the Dippin’ Dots. No one’s ever in there. I’m by there now.” Fuck, my heart is racing. The zoo closes in half an hour, and there’s like nobody here, and he’s right, that bathroom is so out of the way that nobody uses it hardly. Even the Dippin’ Dots guy won’t be there cause he’s watching the rollercoaster for me right now. I look down at his message again. Then at the clock. Seventeen minutes left. My heart is getting quicker. [sighs] ”Okay”, I say “I’ll come now”. “I’ll be waiting inside”, he says. Okay. A few seconds later I’m cutting across the main thoroughfare. Walking quickly. The breeze is cool on my face. The stands are mostly all closed and the rides are shutting down. The few people that are out are all workers, all walking the same direction to the front gate. Their faces lit from underneath by their own phones. I come around the corner by the closed up Dippin’ Dots stand, and I stop. There it is. The squat, gray bathroom building with that rusty water fountain on the side that hasn’t worked for so long that an out of order sign is no longer required. I see the door of the men’s bathroom. It’s closed, but there’s an edge of seering white light all around the heavy metal door. Okay, okay okay okay okay. I walk up to it. I look around. Nobody. The whole building seems to have a low hum. I take a breath, and I open the door. There’s a loud metal creak as the door opens.

[CREAK]

DANE And the door catches on the concrete floor and doesn’t shut all the way. I kick it a couple times until it does.

[DOOR SHUTS]

DANE

The metal bangs ring and echo off the tile. Then I round a tiled wall into the bright restroom, and I see him, standing at the far left urinal, his back to me. He doesn’t look back or move, the cold white lights buzzing and flickering all around. I check the stall on the other side of the little room. It’s empty. It’s door off one of its hinges and hanging there like an open jaw. I walk up slowly to the far right urinal, side eyeing the guy. I keep a urinal between us. I get there and I start to undo my pants. The light directly above the urinals is buzzing, loud. I glance over at him, but he doesn’t look back at me or anything. He doesn’t talk or move or acknowledge me at all. Like, what the fuck? I mean it’s definitely him, and he’s standing away from the urinal so that I can see his dick but he’s just peeing. I look back at the wall, and then I look back over at him. He is handsome, though. He’s a few inches taller than me and muscular, in baggy Carhartt pants and a large dirty gray t-shirt. There’s paint on his elbows and grease on his arms. I look back straight ahead. Okay, now what? I start to panic. I try to pee, but I really don’t have to go. One more time, I look over. He’s done now, shaking his dick. God, even soft it’s big. But he’s still ignoring me. He’s still shaking it, like, way longer than he should. Okay, it starts to get bigger as he swings it around. And then he starts pulling on it, and I'm just standing there watching him out of the side of my eye, holding my own dick in my hand. God, it’s getting bigger and bigger and less floppy, and slowly his pulling turns into gripping and stroking, and it gets thicker and tighter until after about a minute it’s as thick as I saw in the pic earlier. God, it looks angry, and I'm watching his hand run the length of it back and forth, trying not to look like I'm looking, lost in the rhythm, when I hear it- a voice coming from everywhere at once. I look up at the side of his face, straight at it. The lights above flicker a little. It had to be his voice, but he’s still not looking at me. He’s just watching his hand move over his own dick. But as I'm looking at the side of his face I see his lips move, and I hear his voice again.

ALEX Come here. Get on your knees.

DANE I take a breath, I turn, and I walk up next to him. I can smell his cologne, and I kneel down in front of the urinals. The floor is hard and a little wet on my knees, and I try not to think about why. He turns, swinging his dick toward my face, and finally his eyes look down into mine. The light is buzzing and pulsing above him, his body’s like a silhouette, and then he reaches down and puts his fingers in my mouth. They smell like solvents and metal, and he feels around like he lost something in my teeth. And it doesn’t seem like this would be hot but, god, something about it really is. And then he opens my mouth wider with his fingers and takes them out and traces the wetness of my spit up my face, and then grabs my hair and slowly puts his dick in. Past my lips, and then past my tongue, gentle but also steady. I feel it hit the back of my throat and stop. He grabs my hair harder and looks down at my eyes. I don’t know how, but I sort of nod with my face and eyes and make a sort of “uh-huh” sound, and he smiles and puts more pressure in his thrust. And I feel my throat iris out like a dark, wet camera. And he slides all the way down, until my face is against his body. He just holds me against him, and he breathes. I feel the entire inside of my throat and head stretched over his dick. I feel it reaching down into my chest. I feel like a butterfly on a pin. His smell fills my nose. It’s a thick, sweaty smell- the smell of baseball and locker rooms and the back of the bus. He just looks down at me, and I look up at him, and the light buzzes.

[BATHROOM DOOR OPENS]

DANE

The metal bathroom door. He takes his dick out of my throat.

[DANE GAGS AND COUGHS]

DANE It almost makes me puke. I scramble to my feet and quickly get to the urinal. He turns and does the same. We both just stare at the wall in front of us, become strangers again. I hear someone round the tile wall behind us. I hear Alex zipping up his pants and flushing, quick. I do the same. I wipe the water from my eyes and I go to leave, but as I turn, I see the person who entered. It’s the Dippin’ Dots guy, Trey.

DANE [to TREY] Oh, hey man. Wait, you’re not still watching the ride...

TREY [laughs] Nah. I guess some little girl dropped her teddy bear on the track, so I closed it up early, but I left her number on the control console.

DANE

But you didn’t go get it?

TREY

Fuck no. I'm not climbing all those jank-ass ladders.

DANE [to listener] Alex brushes past Trey and heads out of the bathroom. Trey doesn’t even look at him. It’s funny what straight boys just can’t see in bathrooms. I watch Trey disappear into the slack jaw of the stall without even trying to close the door, and then I hear him start to pee.

[PEEING NOISES]

TREY

Later, dude!

DANE I get back to the roller coaster, it takes like twenty seconds. I go into the side door

[DOOR OPENING]

The door shuts behind me.

[DOOR SHUTTING]

And I take a breath. That was fucking intense. It all feels like it didn’t happen, but it just happened like a minute ago. I can still smell the dude on my face. Whoa [sighs]. All the colored lights and space music are gone, and the big overhead lights are on, but I know Trey’s dumb ass didn’t do any of the other closing duties. I walk up to my podium and I see the ride is switched into its standby mode, which means that both cars are nestled into the shuttle bay, and the power is off to the ride. In order to turn it all back on again, you need to put a special key in and turn the red lever, then you hear a big “kerchunk”, and the whole building sorta comes alive and the lights change and the music starts, but now it just looks like bad props and old paint in a bright warehouse, which is what it is. There’s the note Trey was talking about, though. It just says “little girl lost teddy on ride” and then a phone number. There’s not even a name. The keys are next to the note. I take them both and put them in my pocket.

[KEYS JANGLING, POCKET RUSTLING]

DANE I finish the rest of the closing duties: sweep and mop the floors, wipe the glass on the doors, wipe the coaster cars down, and when everything’s done, I go through the utility door into the underbelly of the ride to look for the damn teddy bear. Under the ride there are work lights, these bare bulbs hanging from scaffolding, but they definitely don’t work, so I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. It smells like laser tag. You know, that... that special effects smoke that they use. Half the time when people drop something we find it in “The Net”, and we’re supposed to check “The Net” once a week but people never check it. Also, the net is so old that it has rips and tears and whole sections that have fallen down. It’s like the web of a giant spider that got bored and said “fuck it” and crawled away years ago. So, often things end up on the dusty floor, twenty or thirty feet below. I walk to a place where I can look up through the skeleton of the rollercoaster into the net by the big turn. That’s usually where people drop things, the big turn. No teddy bear. I point my phone light down onto the concrete floor below it. Nothing. Anything new down in this dusty world is immediately visible for its lack of gray dust fuzz. If it has color, it’s new. But I only see an endless field of small, linty shapes. Look, there’s one last place that things occasionally do end up. The moon platform. See, in the middle of the ride there’s this platform where the coaster stops, like full on stops, and this video plays. It’s supposed to be the surface of the moon that you land on, and it’s where you meet the alien that makes the name of the ride ironic, I guess. I’ve never actually ridden the ride so I don’t know, but, like, a rollercoaster with a video in the middle sounds like an awful idea. I’m standing at the base of the ladder to the platform, looking up. I give it a shake.

[LADDER RATTLING]

It’s so loose that it wobbles and buckles all the way up, moaning and creaking. I hear a screw fall somewhere in the dark.

[SCREW FALLS]

DANE

[sighs] I take a breath and start to climb.

[LADDER RATTLING]

DANE

I feel the swaying pull of my weight on the scaffolding. Jesus. More creaking. I just climb faster and faster, I just try not to look. Finally I get up to the top of the platform and pull myself up and dust myself off.

[DUSTING OFF]

DANE

I stand up and look around. The platform is decorated to look like the rocky surface of a moon. Foam rocks, gray paint, that kinda thing. Still no sign of a teddy bear, though. I start to look behind the foam rocks. Maybe it got thrown. But then I hear a sound, a huge “kerchunk”. The work lights go off, the colored lights come on, and space music starts. The building groans, and something huge and metal begins to slither below me. Fuck, someone’s turned on the ride! I scramble to find the ladder in the dark, but I can’t, and I hear the coaster rumbling in the walls, it’s getting closer. Fuck! I don’t know what happens if I’m up here when the coaster comes, so I try to find the ladder again, but one foot slips off the edge of the platform. Holy fuck, I like almost fall. Jesus it woulda killed me, it’s like thirty feet straight down. The roar’s getting louder and louder and louder, I pull my leg back and I scoot behind a foam rock just as the coaster rounds the corner.

[COASTER WHOOSHING]

DANE There’s a person in it. The coaster slows and stops, locks into place. The screen lights up and the video begins, and in the light of the video I see that the person is Kritch, sitting in the middle front seat of the coaster, watching the screen, his arms in front of him on the lap bar. The moonscape continues in the video, making it look like the surface of the moon goes on for miles, and then there’s like eery moon music playing. Well, then a green alien emerges from behind a rock in the video, and it gets closer to us cautiously, and then it starts to speak.

ALIEN IN VIDEO Greetings, earthlings aboard Shuttle 5. I’m a representative for the race of beings that has inhabited Moon 34 of the planet you call Jupiter for millions of years. Your civilization has remained unaware of our existence until this moment. We mean you no harm. We have no weapons, our technology is meager, but we know why you’ve come. The resource you seek is plentiful here, but its retrieval would destroy our home and lead to our certain demise, as we depend upon it for sustenance. We will restore your communications momentarily. However, we beg of you, do not disclose our existence to your superiors upon your return. You must report no helium two on Moon 34, the future of our species rests in your hands, earthlings of Shuttle 5. Good fortune and tidings to you.

DANE The video ends and the coaster comes unlocked and starts again.

[COASTER STARTING, ROLLING]

DANE

Kritch faces front, and I see him wipe his eyes. I must have stood up during the alien’s speech. I crouch back down and hide again quickly. Fuck, I hope he didn’t see me. I listen to the coaster disappear down another hill as the onboard computer says “malfunction, malfunction, returning to Jupiter base [unintelligible]. The roar fades. [sighs] I breathe out. Then I get up and start feeling around for the ladder. A few minutes later, I fall through the utility door back into the launch room, almost coughing from the fake smoke. What the fuck was Kritch doing riding a kid’s ride all by himself in the middle of the fucking night? [sighs] What a weirdo. I hear the coaster make the last of the big turns. I just wanna get out of here, so I slip out quickly the way that the kids come out, through the debriefing room. The debriefing room is just a room with two big light-up buttons under a sign that says “MISSION REPORT”. I stop. The buttons… The buttons. I’ve never really understood them before now. There’s a red one and a green one, and the red button says “no helium present on moon” and the green button says “helium present on moon”, but it’s the green button that’s worn so much that it’s barely legible. I get closer. The glow of green gets brighter on my face. I don’t understand, the kids rat out the alien? That’s fucked up. I reach out and touch the green button. It’s rough from years of well-behaved, terrified children. But then, and I don't know why really, I reach over and press the red button. It blinks three times.

KRITCH

Good choice.

DANE [to listener]

It’s Kritch. I didn’t hear him slip in.

DANE [to Kritch]

Oh, um, I was... I was just uh leaving.

KRITCH It’s okay.

DANE [to listener]

He walks up beside me and looks at the buttons.

KRITCH

It is curious.

DANE [to Kritch]

What’s curious?

KRITCH Well, I didn’t expect it either but it’s true. All the kids push the green button.

DANE [to listener]

He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the green button, his fingers running over that same rough patch.

KRITCH They tell the truth because they know they’re supposed to or they will get in trouble. But the grown-ups? They choose red.

DANE [to listener]

He looks over at the red button. His hand drops and his smile flattens.

KRITCH Because they know the truth about trouble.

DANE [to Kritch]

What’s the truth about trouble?

DANE [to listener]

He turns towards me. I can see that his eyes are still wet, and his suit is, like, way too shiny, and it’s reflecting the red and green lights. He takes a step towards me.

KRITCH That you’re always in trouble.

DANE [to listener] And then leans down until his face is like right over mine.

KRITCH And sometimes a little lie can really help with how much.

DANE [to listener]

The zoo is deserted. It’s after close now. All the lights on all the rides are out. Kritch said he would close up the ride and that I could go, so I started to head for the gate. I haven’t checked my phone in a while, but just as I'm reaching for it I hear something.

[ANIMAL CRYING]

DANE

A crying sound. Zoe. I stop. Something is different about the sound this time.

[ANIMAL CRYING]

DANE

I turn around and walk slowly along the side of the huge building that houses both the rollercoaster and Zoe’s enclosure. The sound usually sounds like it’s far away, like in a cave, but this time it sounds very close. I round the corner and there she is, only like fifteen feet from me, in a small cement stall with an iron gate around it standing over a drain. She yelps when she sees me.

[ZOE YELPS]

DANE I scream a little bit and turn to run around the corner, and boom! I almost run into someone.

DANE [to person]

Oh I'm sorry I…

DANE [to listener]

it’s Jennifer.

JENNIFER Did you miss me?

DANE [to Jennifer]

Fuck. I should have known I'd see you. Wherever there’s shadows and secrets there you are a sneakin’.

JENNIFER Look who’s talking. You’re the sneak tonight. Sneak.

DANE [to Jennifer] What are you even doing here?

JENNIFER What are you even doing here?

DANE [to Jennifer] I’m at my job. It’s a thing grown-ups do.

JENNIFER Pssh. Grown-up? Nice shirt. I’m here for the rally, stupid.

DANE [to listener]

She holds up a flier to my face, like a brat. I recognize it from Emily’s porch yesterday. It says “save Zoe rally at the zoo”. Fuck, that’s today? I don’t even know the date. I look back down at her stupid face.

DANE [to Jennifer]

You know what? You oughta go back and say hi to your little friend Zoe, stick your face through that gate and see if she’ll kiss ya’.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer looks at me with almost pity, and then she starts laughing.

JENNIFER [laughing]

DANE [to Jennifer]

What’s so funny?

JENNIFER

[laughing] Oh, Zoe can’t hurt me.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Why not?

DANE [to listener]

She steps closer to me. She’s holding a piece of cardboard with “SAVE ZOE” written on it.

JENNIFER Because Zoe the zebra is dead.

[THEME MUSIC]

ELLIE HAYMEN Dreamboy is co-created by Dane Terry and Ellie Haymen. Developed and directed by Ellie Haymen. Written, composed, and performed by Dane Terry, featuring Cecil Baldwin, Avery Draut, Michael St. Peter, Jake Sellers and Chris Weingarten. Sound Designed, Engineered, Mixed and Mastered by Christopher Weingarten at Bananappeal Studio. Edited by Alexander Charles Adams. Creative Producer and Assistant Director: Ashlin Hatch. Associate producer: Adam Cecil. Executive Producer: Christy Gressman. A very special thanks to Night Vale Presents. You can find us on Twitter and Instagram @dreamboypodcast. For more info and for merch check out dreamboypodcast.com.

#dreamboy #dreamboy podcast #night vale presents #do i have to put a disclaimer? idk how these things work. this isn't my podcast i'm just a fan

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datarevived · 4 years

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word prompts compilation | accepting

thund-ere said: [ guard ] for MY muse to step between YOUR muse and danger - Aleksa

" Are we sure this is a wise idea? " " We'll be fine, Data. " " That's what you always say. But are we ever? "

The soft bantering of one-sided conversation soothed over the sounds of crunching bone beneath the Hunter's feet. The smell of dirt and gas tangling with breathable air, its' current pulled to the outer vents of the foundation as metal churned and wailed against the waves of the ocean.

A break from her usual task of casual bounties and ally-hopping, Selene was found presently in the depths of Titan -- a planet sunken to the wrath of unexplored waters. It's history having said to be the gold mine of Golden Age tech, and yet, terribly infested with the corruption known as the Hive. She was here to help the twins search for something of importance -- something in which Commander Sloane requested, with best caution.

And who better knew caution than Hunters?

" My signal is getting all... fuzzy. "

" We are going in relatively deep, " the Awoken noted, her pulse rifle resting sturdily in grip as she peeked every corner with stealth. The unnerving quiet and lack of Hive in the depths becoming increasingly more concerning. " Sure it isn't all the metal? "

" Has dense tin-cans ever stopped me before? This feels more like a jammer frequency, " her Ghost remarks from its sub-space. " I can't get in touch with the twins, either. "

Okay, that was... alarming.

A sense of dread creeping up her backside as she walked, watchful eye hunting for any movement as she reconsidered their options on the table. If they were sent in to fetch something particular, and if the Hive caught wind that someone was coming... as annoying as they were, they were particularly resourceful. Cunning. The idea that they would all go into hiding, or for an ambush... very --

" Your left! "

Without even processing to look, the Hunter dodges over towards the right and away from the wall she was using as cover. The thudding sound of bone-sword hitting the ground causing a brief vibration beneath her boot, cyan gaze lifted to match that of three glowing hive-eyes which belonged to the Knight. It's maw cracked in several places already, it had known battle before.

" Not much of a welcome party... " Selene scoffs, raising her sights and readying trigger-finger to shoot. Though not before another alarming cry from her Ghost, his observations essential.

" --Not a party, but quite possibly a riot! You have five more life forms heading straight for us! "

" Not what I wanted to know! "

" Oh and you think I did!? "

The Knight in front of the Hunter taking the time to pick it's sword from the metal bearings, it then cracks a threatening growl before pumping its' chest and picking its' footing in a sprint. A terrifying account to witness to say the least, given their broad bodies that'd pack a punch -- the Hunter leaping back once more before finding herself back-pressed against a wall. Pinched between a Knight and a hard place.

" Why don’t you ever listen to me! " Data's voice cracks.

" It's more fun that way, " Selene manages a crooked smile, lifting her gun back in position before drilling several bullets against the Knight; bidding time between what little room she had left. A nervous tick starting to rev increased heart rate, her chest playing the sound of a drum ---

--- the following sight, as if played in slow motion as static clings to the air around her; the body of the Knight suddenly thrown in unrecognizable speed to the wall left of its' being. It happens in the span of a blink, the sounds of electricity charging and hair risen on the back of her neck, a spark of light causing the Awoken to shield her eyes before returning quickly to the scene at hand. In the place of the Knight, now standing the Titan-twin of the two, hers' armor coated in an electric charge with great-axe in tow.

“ Aleksa?! “ the Hunter squeaks.

“ Ah--Selene! ... I mean... - ahem - “ Aleksa clears her throat a minute, pardoning the execution of just having wasted her energy on a lesser target, “ Pretend that you did not witness this, yes? And I will not tell Zhanna about the 8mm you broke on your way out. “

“ The..I what? “

“ Exactly dear child, “ the Titan smiles, throwing the weight of her axe over her shoulder before lifting her other hand in a hushing motion over her lips. “ No~one needs to know. “

#thund-ere #thundere #✧ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɴᴇ | ask/answered #( she go zzztzzt )#( solo super'd a knight gg gg )

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usafphantom2 · 8 months

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What are those two little dents on the nose of the SR-71 Blackbird?

My Dad Richard “Butch” Sheffield (Butch was his nickname because of his haircut that he had back in the 60s) he used to point to the nose of the SR-71 Blackbird when we would meet him at the Udvar Air and Space Smithsonian Museum in Virginia. He would point to the dimples and say “This is really important but I can’t talk about it.”

He would smile.

I could just tell he wanted to tell me but he didn’t.

My father and Bob Spencer flew in one of the most important missions in the SR-71 when they got the SA- 5 Missile Signal flying within inches of the Russian border. Getting that signal was very important for the defense of the SR-71. According to former Blackbird pilot Col. Richard H. Graham’s book SR-71 The Complete Illustrated History of THE BLACKBIRD The World’s Highest , Fastest Plane, the nose section allowed the SR-71 to have radar-imaging capability with the advanced synthetic aperture radar system (ASARS), photographic imagery with the optical bar camera (OBC), or a ballast installed. The nose section was held on by faun-massive fasteners. However, my doubt remained unanswered.

What are those two little dents on the nose of the SR-71 Blackbird?

‘I’m assuming you’re talking about the two “dents” in the chines at the front part of the nose, one on each side? Those aren’t dents, those were put there on purpose for the more advanced ECM systems the Blackbird got in the ‘70’s and ‘80’s,’ says Kelly Pedron, an aviation expert, on Quora.

There weren’t any good places to put the ECM receivers in the front of the aircraft, so those “dents” were put in the chine to allow the installation of ECM receivers there. If you’ll notice, the flat part of the “dent” is facing about 60 degrees forward, in order to cover that quadrant of the airspace around the aircraft. Earlier models of the SR, including the A-12, were more concerned with attack radar signals from the rear, so front-mounted ECM receivers weren’t as necessary at the time. With the advent of more advanced Soviet SAM systems, like the S-200 and S-300, a forward warning receiver and jammer were required, hence the development of the so-called ECM “dents” in the nose.’

Pedron concludes;

‘So, yes, those were put there on purpose; nobody accidentally taxied an SR-71 into a solid object.’

Written by Linda Sheffield was formally published in aviationgeek club

@Habubrats71 via Twitter

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tiffgeorgina · 4 years

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fuck it black monday soulmate au

this one goes out to brit pricevore and that damn quote rt about hating soulmate aus. also to all the time i wasted in the shower last night thinking about this. brit if you’re reading this i have done my part.

this fic is sponsored by the hyuna and LE collab that i cannot stop blasting. it’s called blacklist and it kind of invented music

-ok so im starting with mo and dawn because of fucking course i am

-mo spends like four years in prison starting from when he’s 20 or 21 or sum shit. around this time, dawn’s getting her MBA from northwestern. as soon as mo’s out of prison, jammer stakes the jammer group and hands majority ownership over to mo. alright so mo needs some employees he can’t do all this by himself. so he schedules an interview with dawn and meets her and realizes that this is His Soulmate.

-im not really certain what the exact soulmate au would be for this because frankly i don’t care, i don’t want to get into that rn lol. but it’s something obvious and clear-cut, like seeing color for the first time when you make eye contact with your soulmate or smth. Actually i rly like that idea so im gonna roll with it. Fuck it you see color the first time the first time you touch your soulmate (i’ll get into the general implications of this some more later on, maybe after keith/mike’s part stay tuned xx) i love me some ambiguous soulmate aus but all the relationships in this show are ambiguous enough so i’ll pass in that regard this time. also in this universe, your soulmate isn’t necessarily regarded as your romantic partner for life. some conservatives/evangelists/fundamentalists/traditionalists will consider any marriage/sexual or romantic relationships with people other than your soulmate to be an abomination or w/e, and the 80s were pretty conservative, but they were also pretty weird, so a lot of people give zero fucks and will date/fuck/marry whoever. these people tend to regard soulmates as the most important person in your life, regardless of the nature of your relationship with them. some people’s soulmates are like a parent to them, and could never imagine being romantic/sexual with them. lots of people never meet their soulmates due to distance/death/etc. basically fate is not as all-knowing in this soulmate au as it is in some others. there is more to a long-lasting, successful romantic relationship than just love. back in the 40s or whatever, people would meet their soulmates and marry like two weeks later, never having had sex or a romantic relationship with anybody else, and then two days into the marriage they realize how devastatingly incompatible they are and the relationship crumbles under the strain of resentment and confusion within a year. people in the 80s have started to learn the lessons the people in the 40s never had time to figure out, so most people have some romantic/sexual experience before they meet their soulmate. besides, who wants to wait that long to have sex? not me tf

-ok back to the plot now that we got the background is down. mo and dawn meet and know they’re soulmates. so they get to know each other, but their main focus is work bc they’ve got a lot of work to do if they want to get anywhere. the company is young, dawn’s just out of school, and mo’s just out of prison. there’s a lot of ground to cover and they’re impatient asf to be rich and powerful.

-the romance sort of happens naturally, given how much time they spend together, and they fall hard. they start dating, and when it’s great, it’s great. but when it’s bad, it’s fucking horrible. they’re both really underdeveloped as people (should i mention that they both literally just entered the workforce lol) and they just. can’t. get. along.

-they hire some more people, like keith and yassir and wayne, and even they can tell that their relationship just sucks. they fight all the time over petty shit, and their fights always go way too far and never get properly resolved. sure, the sex is good and they want pretty similar futures (lots of money and no kids), but emotionally, in the short term, they are as incompatible as it gets. they have the same argument that they’ve had a gazillion times about promoting dawn to partner, but this time it goes a little too far. the things they say are a little too hurtful, and at this point, the relationship is a little too broken to salvage. they both know that when dawn storms out that night, it’s the last time. she moves out the next day.

-but she can’t really quit, can she? at this point she’s put in like three years of work at this place, and it’s moving up the ranks, and she’s head trader. she’s not taking a pay cut because she’s too immature to work with her ex-who-is-also-her-soulmate. so she sticks around. it’s a little awkward at first, but she and mo just come to an unspoken agreement that they’ll spend less time together and let themselves detach as much as possible, because at this point, a romantic relationship just seems so impossible, so why try? they can be each other’s most important person without being romantic partners, right? of course they can! Yeah, maybe they were just destined to be platonic soulmates. this will definitely work.

-so dawn meets this guy. his name is spencer. they hit it off right away too. of course, they’re much less compatible (in terms of long-term plans and all that, especially regarding having a family) than she and mo ever were, and the chemistry is nowhere near as electric, but at least they can have a conversation about something other than how much they hate the lehman brothers without screaming at each other. despite how much she knows she doesn’t love him like she still does used to love mo, she thinks she can live the rest of her life like this. they get engaged after dating for a year, and then married after a six month engagement period.

-mo stays single for about a decade or so. the most serious relationship he has isn’t even monogamous and it’s like, barely a year. he tells himself that he’s not looking for love, and he’s much happier to just sleep around and count his money and focus on that. everybody he ever talks to knows this is a bald-faced lie. they choose not to bring it up.

-(IM REALIZING HOW SIMILAR THIS IS TO THE CANON BACKSTORY/PLOT OF BLACK MONDAY IM SCREAMING SHGLKSDFHGLKSDRGHLS WHATEVER IM HAVING FUN) so mo and dawn are still working together and their relationship is... getting better. time heals all wounds right? well, not if you keep rubbing salt in the wound by literally working with your ex-who-is-also-your-soulmate and seeing them everyday. they know subconsciously that they could’ve been really fucking great, if only they hadn’t been such idiots in their 20s. but now that chance is gone, and they both just have to accept that. they still get into fights and shit, but it tends to be over much more superficial stuff. of course, people without fifteen years of history don’t get into screaming matches over tiny shit like they do. but that’s the territory of working with your ex-who-is-also-your-soulmate.

-so mo has this stupid fucking idea that he doesn’t even run by dawn before throwing $60 mil on it, because of course he does. so she has no choice but to go with it. they hire this kid, his name is blair, because they need him to pull this off. blair finds out that mo and dawn are soulmates who used to date but don’t anymore, and he’s really not even that surprised. of course, it’s weird to find out that your bosses whom you’re weirdly close to, who seem to hate each other, used to be in love and date and the whole nine yards and all that, but it makes a lot of sense.

-so they go off to the predator’s ball bc even rich people need money sometimes. you know that scene where they’re walking back to their rooms after that wild ass night, and mo’s like “you want to call it, or?” and dawn’s like “would if i could but im married” and then they get into a fight over collateral shares? fuck that scene entirely. let dawn find out about that 30% collateral shit like the next day or some shit idfc. instead, dawn’s just a smidge drunker than she was in canon, or maybe she was thinking more clearly than she has in a while, and she just fuckin goes for it. she kisses him, and of course he kisses her, and they... sleep in the same room that night. lmfao you know what i mean. and so starts this sort of friends/business-partners-with-benefits thing.

-they are next level awkward when they get back to NYC, and blair and keith notice the fuck out of it. they aren’t exactly on speaking terms, so they don’t bring it up to each other, but fuck if they don’t bitch about to their respective soulmates (which i will get into)

-dawn feels soooo guilty it’s unreal. But she rationalizes the hell out of it. Her relationship with spencer has a textbook dead bedroom (which is actually sort of canon), and she signed up for monogamy, not celibacy. it’s not her first example of fucked up morals for sleeping with somebody other than her husband, anyways; there are worse things she can do (and has done) than cheat. It’s not fair that he gets to have all the sex he wants while she has to suffer in silence. So she keeps hooking up with mo even if it’s the worst thing she could do for her relationship with him (and her relationship with spencer, who doesn’t even know that she’s met her soulmate, let alone that her soulmate is her fuckin business partner [canon divergent, spencer does not find out about her and mo in 1x02])

-mo feels guilty in theory but really he’s just happy to be with dawn again in some way. They’re never in dawn’s apartment, so there’s no chance they can ever be caught ever. This is fine. They are fine.

-as one can expect, they are not fine and spencer notices dawn acting differently. Eventually she has a couple drinks one night and the guilt overwhelms her so she ends up coming clean. Safe to say she and spencer get that divorce.

-around this time, mo is telling blair about the georgina play, and blair is telling him to go fuck himself. Also around this time, tiff is getting kidnapped.

-dawn immediately suspects that mo did some stupid shit when she finds out mo told blair everything. So she goes to find him, only to find him at his lake house, spreading ashes. After he tells her he knows nothing of tiff’s kidnapping and he’s spreading the ashes of a friend, she relaxes and they spend the night together, just talking over all the shit they’ve been through. They don’t have sex that night, but they feel what they used to feel when they were together 15 years ago.

-in the middle of the night, blair calls dawn in a blind panic, talking about how tiff’s parents arranged her kidnapping for the press without telling her. Blair says, “Let’s you and me run the georgina play. That’s right, i know you knew, you’re too smart not to” and dawn says “no.” she doesn’t give excuses or anything, she puts her foot down because she will not let this kid she’s known for barely a year convince her to fuck up the most fulfilling relationship she’s ever had as soon as they get to a good place again. She tells him she’ll run the play with him, but it’s not gonna be against mo. either all three of them are fucked with mo and dawn $60 mil in the hole and blair out of a job, or all three of them can be filthy rich and successful. That’s the deal. Blair says he’ll call her back tomorrow.

-the next morning, mo and dawn are talking on the doorstep, and mo brings up the georgina play and how the kid fuckin hates him now, and there’s no chance of pulling off the play bc he quit. Dawn’s like “yeah, about that… we need to schedule a meeting with him” and mo’s like “what for?” and dawn’s like “i spoke to him last night, his fiancée’s kidnapping was a sham that her parents pulled off and he might be in the right headspace to fuck them over right around now” and mo’s like “holy shit you miracle worker” and they make out and when they walk back into the office, they’re hand in hand.

-they call blair into the office and they basically just yell at each other for three hours. Keith, yassir, wayne, and ronnie do not know what is going on and frankly they are too afraid to ask. Eventually, they reach an agreement: blair will pull hand over 6% of georgina jeans in exchange for 20% of the jammer group, and another 25% to dawn (after they use blair’s algorithm to grab that last 30% from the lehmans). They shake on it, but none of them leave happy.

-blair’s not exactly happy to fuck over his parents-in-law, and mo isn’t happy to lose majority control of his own company. Dawn lucked out, gaining more power and losing little in the play, but her relationship with both of them is so on-the-rocks that she can’t imagine upholding a business partner relationship with them. This is gonna go so great after blair gets married in *checks watch* like two months.

-so blair gets married and the georgina play is a thing that happens (successfully might i add) and everything is kind of shitty because there are at least two relationships to repair here, and one that’s coming back from the dead. But little by little, they all get to a better place until they’re more or less back at where they were before mo told blair everything and they were all just friends except this time mo and dawn are dating xx

-WHEW and that is that on that. And by that on that i mean that on mo/dawn for this au. Dw im gonna get to blair/tiff and mike/keith and im super excited to write those too but i’ll make sure to put those in a separate post because i don’t think tumblr could handle a +7000 word post lmfao (since this post is nearly 2500 words jesus christ)

-i hoped y’all liked reading this as much as i loved writing it!! Again i love feedback and i read everything y’all say in the tags so please put stuff in the tags bc i love that shit!! Gn xx

#black monday #fanfic #fanfiction #andrew rannells #blair pfaff #mo x dawn #maurice monroe #dawn darcy #dawn towner #fic: bm soulmates #otp: partners.#slander #a million queue lawyers a million queue years to queue out

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