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skinandscales-if · 8 months

Note

Maybe Reese and 'there is a prayer in me still' ?

If that prompt tickles your fancy for him.

Atlas | Skye | Puck

⎯

“Think that’s bullshit.”

Your head perks up as you shoot a sidelong glance at Reese, the man seated beside you trying to cover his hand to save the flame dying on his fingers. He’s been trying to light that blasted cigarette for what feels like minutes now. It’s probably only been a few moments, but everything feels much longer when you’re on stakeout like this. The rooftop isn’t exactly the most pleasant position to find yourself in this late at night, the cold air nips a little too harshly at your nose, and the unforgiving edge of the flat apartment roof smells uncannily like fish. You wrinkle your nose a bit. Maybe that’s why Reese is still trying to light the cigarette— to drown out the smells. You don’t know if the smell of smoke is going to help much, though.

“What?” You ask, lifting your head a bit in his direction in order to prompt him to continue. He takes the bait easily, one leg swung over the edge of the roof. Both of yours hang off, turned away from him still though you’re staring at him now.

“‘God makes this go faster.’ That’s what you said, right?” He responds, shrugging his shoulders as his words slur slightly with the cigarette still firmly lodged between his teeth. You catch a flash of his sharp canines. “Think that’s bullshit. No god can speed up time— don’t even really think they’d notice it passing.”

You raise your eyebrows a bit at him now. This certainly came out of left field.

“Where’d this come from?” You ask, huffing out a breath that you meant to sound like a laugh. It doesn’t, but you’re not in the mood to put any fake effort into it. “Midnight stakeouts make you philosophical or something now?”

Reese spares a glance up at you for a moment, shooting you one of his classic ‘you’re so stupid I don’t even have time to explain it to you’ looks. He snorts and a bit of smoke dissipates in the air in front of you from his nostrils.

“I’m just making conversation. You’re the one filling the space with stupid shit.”

You frown a bit at that.

“I’m sorry, do you have something more important to add?” You snap back, eye twitching a bit as you swallow down your frustration just as quickly, looking away. This isn’t going to get you anywhere. But surprisingly, Reese doesn’t snap back right away. You glance back at him and he’s given up on his cigarette, the thing now twiddling between his fingers as he stares off ahead of you, at some distant horizon between the tops of the buildings and the darkened sky. The silence between you two isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it doesn’t sit quite right with you. You don’t know if that’s on him or you.

“Do you believe in that crap?” He voices again, voice a bit quieter now, though it still holds that sting at the end, like some kind of shy scorpion.

“What?” You ask again, before quirking a brow at him. “God?”

He nods quietly. You sigh, turning to look at the same great beyond he is. You wish you could see whatever answers he’s searching for out there. Maybe then it’d be easier for you two to just… talk. You don’t know.

“Kind of a big question, huh?” You reply with a small scoff that isn’t directed towards anyone. You chew on your cheek for a bit. “Why do you ask?”

This time, Reese adjusts himself in his seat, slinging his other leg over the edge so he turns away from you. Despite the distancing, he lowers his head and begins to fiddle with the cigarette again. You’ve been around him long enough to know the tells. He’s nervous. Well— maybe not nervous per se, but certainly thinking about something.

“I don’t know. Just been on my mind, I think.” He sighs and it feels heavy. You don’t interrupt. “I’ve spent a lot of my life wanting to believe something like it is true. Not many signs, though.”

It’s your turn to pause now. You glance from him to the sky again, gaze turning higher upwards now. It’s harder to make out the stars out here in the city. But if you peer hard enough, you can still spot the flickers of white spattered gently across the expanse that seems to tumble on towards infinity. You smile a bit.

“I think it’s kind of silly to go looking for signs. Puts a lot of pressure on you to make it real. Besides, they’re probably busy. Time wouldn’t mean much to them, remember?” You chuckle, the cold air feeling a bit less biting now as you take a deep breath. There’s another beat of silence. When you look back to Reese, he’s staring back at you. You expect him to break the moment, but he doesn’t, staring at you like you just said something more meaningful than you believe you actually did. He smirks a bit, then laughs back softly.

“Maybe there’s a prayer in me yet.”

#prompts #s&s: reese #asks #cw: smoking #sorry this one took so long lol #considering this one the final installment to that particular prompt list!#jazz hands supriseeee #reese has a complicated view on religion yippie #✌️just shit the bed in an interview so finally posting this #also the tickles your fancy phrase is so funny to me you’re great anon

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divinegrey · 2 years

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Can I make a request of the Val ladies seeing their S/O getting hurt on mission and how they’d react pls, it could be a bad injury or not, whatever you’re comfortable with!! Love ur writing!!

sure thing! also, i'm trying out a new method of answering the prompts directly for headcanons, lemme know if you guys like this way better! i appreciate any and all feedback!

agents listed: astra, fade, jett, killjoy, neon, raze, reyna, sage, skye, and viper words: 2448 warnings: blood, violence, cursing

ASTRA

Upon seeing you get hurt, Astra goes cosmic.

Wherever you are on the map, she’ll throw out a cosmic divide to break you apart from the enemy team before finding you.

“C’mon, chale, the fight's not over yet!”

Astra is exceedingly levelheaded when it comes to gunfights for good reason, but when it comes to you, Astra will bend the laws of space and time to keep you safe. You fell in love with her for that reason and seeing her rush to help you only reminds you of that.

She’ll take you somewhere safe and provide cover until the round is over or until Skye can get you back on your feet.

When you’re healed, she’ll wrap her arm around you tightly, whispering how much she loves you and how glad she is that you’re okay. But also to remind you that you’re not immortal and that she doesn’t want to see you killed.

You’ll simply give her a kiss in return, appreciative of her help.

FADE

She sees you get hit with an op bullet in the shoulder. To anyone, that would be an instant kill, but she knows you better. You’ll keep fighting, tooth and nail, even with a sniper rifle bullet lodged into your shoulder.

But you’re not invulnerable. Fade knows this, and god, she worries for you. You were the first Agent at the Protocol to treat her kindly, and she’s not about to let you get downed on a mission. Not if she can do something about it.

Fade summons all of the nightmares at her disposal, hurling them forward like inky tar from her fingers. It serves as a good enough distraction to force the enemy team to cover while she gets to you.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Sage, we need heals! Now!” Fade shouts into the earpiece, having reached you in time to catch you from stumbling forward.

“Used your nightmares to save me, did you?” You reply with a toothy yet pained grin, and Fade just shakes her head.

Fade holds the back of your head with her hand, kissing your forehead. “Keep your jokes for when you’re stabilized, aşkım.”

JETT

Jett, as a duelist, knows how it feels to get shot. She goes through it a lot.

But when you get struck by some bullets in the midst of planting the spike, Jett goes sicko mode. Summons all of her knives and if she sees an enemy, they get a quick knife to the head and that’s the end of that.

She’s relentless, moving faster than a tornado to clear the area. It’s an intense battle focus that doesn't end until Jett is sure that the other team is fully dead.

And when the area is cleared, she’s the first one back to help you up, pressing her hand over the bleeding areas.

“You should’ve let me clear the area! You could’ve gotten killed! Or worse!” Jett would complain as you two walk back to the Vulture to get carried back to base.

“Well, if someone had done their job of being the first entry, I wouldn’t have gotten shot!”

More often than not, you bicker about it, but really, it’s Jett’s way of showing how much she cares for you and how important you are to her. Jett can handle the pain, but she would rather stick a knife into her hand than see you get hurt.

The entire ride back to base is spent with Jett holding your hand and resting her head on your shoulder while you’re patched up by a medic on standby. She doesn’t let you go for the duration.

KILLJOY

Killjoy isn’t a woman who’s on the frontlines. Her job is to stand back and keep surveillance with her alarm bots and grenades.

You, however, have a penchant for danger.

“Ow, fuck!”

Killjoy hears your cry of pain over the intercoms in the mission, followed by Raze chattering something about the other team having an entire lineup of sniper rifles.

Fuck, this isn’t good.

Killjoy heads straight for your location, moving fast on her feet. She activates her detainment, throwing out her turrets and swarm grenades to keep the enemies busy.

“Fight them, Raze! I’ll take care of them!” Killjoy switches places with Raze, who immediately goes to no doubt blow the other team to hell and back with her rocket launcher. None of it matters to KJ— she needs to keep you safe from further damage.

She doesn’t even notice that her hands are shaking until you’re grabbing them and giving her a reassuring smile despite the pain lancing through your body.

“It’s fine, KJ, just a bullet to the thigh. I’ve had worse,” you say, and Killjoy just nods.

“I hate seeing you hurt,” Killjoy whispers, and you smile.

“I’ll be fine. Give Sage a minute to clear the fuckers and I’ll be back on my feet.”

Killjoy stays by your side the entire time, unwilling to leave until you’re safe.

NEON

You and Neon travel together in a pair— you reveal information for her, and Neon slices through with her speed to get the advantage of surprise.

But one mission, you get separated by an enemy Viper’s poison orb, forcing you two apart.

Neon’s heart is hammering in her chest as she thinks of another way through, and it only gets worse when there’s a gunshot paired with a shout that she knows is yours.

“Ow, motherfucker! Eat shit!”

Neon doesn’t wait.

She sprints through the poison orb, choking on the fumes until she breaks through to the other side. Electricity sparks from her fingertips and before the enemy Viper has a chance to gun you down, Neon is frying her alive.

“Huwag mo silang hawakan!”

You’re collapsed on the ground, your gun held out in front of you with a look of pure surprise on your face. Neon’s hair is glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen and there’s pure fury and rage in her eyes.

“Neon, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m okay!” You say, trying to break her out of her anger. The enemy Viper is long since dead and it’s almost a little too brutal.

Only when you talk does Neon realize what she’s doing, and snapped out of her rage. Immediately, she comes to your side, hefting you off of the ground and pulling you back toward the spawn site.

“I love you, I’m so sorry, I should’ve protected you,” Neon says, and the way her voice cracks makes your heart ache.

“I know, I know, you did such a good job. Thank you, Tala.”

You give her a kiss, and that’s the end of that.

RAZE

Raze hardly gives a shit about herself, but when it comes to you?

Oh, motherfuckers will die if someone hurts you.

Case in point— the enemy Yoru getting a lucky shot on you.

“Not on my watch!”

The other team hardly has a chance to recover between the number of grenades and bombs Raze is throwing at them while Skye heals you. It’s over the top in the best kind of way.

She ends up killing all of them when she rocket blasts herself into the air and throws grenades at them like it’s a firework show.

By the time Raze comes back to spawn point, you’re back on your feet and she’s covered in soot from explosives. She doesn’t seem to give a shit about it, instead throwing her arms around you and muttering threats about blowing the other team to smithereens if they try to pull that shit again.

Knowing your girlfriend, you just hug her back and kiss her on the forehead, and then offer to buy her some more explosives.

REYNA

There’s no doubt about it— Reyna is extremely protective over you.

So the moment you’re hit by a stray bullet, Empress mode is activated. Her anger at the enemy team for hurting you becomes the fuel and she’s ruthless.

Gun in hand and murder on her mind, Reyna cuts through the enemy team like it’s nothing. The entire time this happens, you’re watching her, wondering how bad it would be for the enemy team if you’d gotten seriously injured. Like, this is hardly a scratch for you!

Well, you got shot in the arm and you can’t feel your fingers, but it’s fine, right?

Reyna doesn’t come back for a while, but the sound of gunshots from afar keeps you worried for her.

Only when you hear her voice on the intercoms do you relax: “Enemy team destroyed. They won’t hurt you again, cariño.”

“Good, thank you love, but can you please come back to the spike? I could really use a pick me up and the missions over.”

Reyna returns, covered in a little too much blood for your liking, but you don’t protest when she comes and lifts you up into a bridal carry. After being in Empress mode, you know she needs the physical contact more than anything.

So, you lean into it, telling her how much you love her by whispering into her ear, loud enough only for her to hear. Telling her how thankful you are to have her as your partner.

Needless to say, anyone who fucks with you gets the wrath of the Empress, and it is not a pretty sight. You think you saw Sova vomit into a nearby bush, but that could be for any other reason, right?

SAGE

Oh, gentle Sage.

Anyone should fear the anger of a patient woman scorned.

“They’re on A! Shit, they’re on A!” Your voice crackles through the intercom into Sage’s ear, and her heart drops straight through her chest. “Fuck, they have an Op! I repeat, they have an Op!”

She’s running to you. If she doesn’t get there fast, then you’re as good as dead, and that only makes Sage run harder and faster, doling out commands.

“Cypher, trip the flanks! Sova, I need you to reveal the area and find out who’s shooting us down! Omen, go through the back and take them out!”

She’s fearsome when it comes to her presence on the battlefield.

You’ve managed to corral yourself into a corner, a trail of your blood smeared on the ground. When you see Sage, your girlfriend, the love of your life, you smile at her.

“About time you showed up,” you say, watching Sage wall off a portion of the field so she can get to you. Sage skids to her knees by your side, retrieving a healing orb.

“I’m here, my love, I’m here,” she says, pressing the orb into your stomach. You groan at the feeling, the bullet being pushed out by the magic blossoming through your body. When she sees it, Sage pulls out the offending bullet and your skin closes over just in the nick of time.

Sage holds you tightly, unwilling to let you go until the entire field is clear.

Unfortunately, the enemy team is smart, which leaves you and Sage alone with the others down.

Come hell or high water, the bastion of China will never break.

Sage razes down the enemy team with her gun, landing headshot after headshot.

“Goddamn, Sage. Maybe I should get injured more often. That was kinda hot.” “Enough talking, my love, you need to rest.”

SKYE

When you get hurt, Skye is already on the move.

The Australian knows you by heart, she knows how you’ll hide the pain if it means helping your team. Not on her watch, however.

You’re in the bathrooms on Bind, watching the door with a bullet wound on your stomach. You’re determined to clear these fuckers out, even if it means hurting yourself in the process.

All of a sudden, a green hawk soars past you. You duck and cover your eyes just in time for the flash to go off, stunning the three agents coming in to swarm you.

Then Skye arrives with a goddamn machine gun in her hands.

She blows the enemy team apart in a vicious spray of bullets. There’s a wave of anger on her face you haven’t seen before, and you wonder if someone shat in her coffee this morning.

No, it’s just how concerned she is over you.

“Fuck, Y/N, you shouldn’t have been watching this on your own! You coulda gotten killed!” Skye would tend to your injuries immediately, focusing on the blood coming from your armor.

You put your hands on her face to pull her gaze to you. “I’m okay, Skye. Thank you for coming to my rescue. I needed that.”

Any anger dissipates, and you wipe away the beginnings of tears under her eyes before pulling her into a tight hug. Skye is a strong woman, there’s no doubt about that, but she loves you so, so much that she can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. It’s incredibly difficult for her, so you remind her how much you love her and how thankful you are to have her in your life.

VIPER

Truly, hell comes in the form of Viper when her lover is hurt amidst battle.

When she sees you go down, collapsing onto a wall and screaming in pain, Viper becomes angry.

And people should know better than to fuck with a snake when it's angry.

Her poison cloud goes up instantly. It’s bigger and stronger than you’ve ever seen before. The fumes are targeted only to the enemies, and to you, it leaves you in a murky green cloud with limited sight.

But you hear the sound of bullets. Methodically, one after the other. Thumps of bodies dropping. Your heart is pounding because no one is talking on the fucking intercoms and you have zero clue what's happening. You clutch your gun to your chest, biting down on your cheek to subdue any noises from your mouth.

To your luck, the enemy Sova finds you.

“There you are, little rat,” Sova mutters, raising his gun.

BLAM!

You watch as his face is blown clean off. Sova stumbles back, only to receive more bullets that slice through his armor. To your left, Viper walks past you, a Sheriff in her hand. She empties the chamber into him before reloading and firing again.

The poison cloud falls, finally leaving you with clear vision.

And holy shit, the enemy Sova is definitely dead.

“Bean?” You call out to the woman standing a few paces in front of you. “Sabine, can you look at me, please?”

Slowly, Viper turns back to you, her full face mask falling back into her suit of armor. Blood is smeared across her torso like she ripped everyone else apart herself.

“No one will ever hurt you, my love,” Viper says. “Ever.”

~~~~~

A/N: hope you liked this! it was fun to write. some of the agents i haven't written yet so they might feel a little ooc, sorry!

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imogenkol · 5 months

Text

Old Scars and New

word count: 3.3k warnings: blood, injury tending, disaster bisexual werewolf being cringe af tags: bandaging/stitching up wounds prompt

this is a slightly altered/updated version of my most popular piece of writing for this verse and thought I'd share it in my continued journey of rebuilding my relationship with my og works!

“Alright, who’s up first?” Nadya announced once everyone filed into the motel room.

Skye flashed a sly grin at the sight of Nadya putting her glasses on. “Ooh, are we gonna play doctor?”

Jayde rolled her eyes and dumped her bag onto the floor, barely holding back a wince. The scent of her own blood invaded her lungs and she already felt bruises forming, but the aches and pains were far from uncommon occurrences. She dismissed any concern. “I’m fine.”

Nadya ignored their comments and pointed at both of the siblings. “You two. Sit.”

“Are you going to tell me to roll over too?” Skye remarked.

At the same time, Jayde reiterated grumpily “I said I’m fine.”

The human threw them a stern glare. Nadya may appear soft and approachable most of the time – even meek to those who underestimated her – but the wolves quickly discovered that she had a hidden talent for intimidation when she wanted to. Jayde and Skye simultaneously took their seats at the edge of one of the beds without further protest.

Satisfied with their obedience, Nadya turned to Toby. “How are you feeling?”

“Right as rain,” he replied.

She made a spin motion with her hand. “Twirl.” He held up his arms and turned in one slow circle, showing her that he was unscathed. “Nothing’s hurting?”

“Nope.”

She concluded her thorough scan with a pat on his shoulder. “Okay, you’re good.”

Toby gave the sisters a childish smirk like he won a game and said “Ha.” Then sauntered over to a chair.

Well, if the game went to whoever got hurt the least, then Jayde would never win. She almost scoffed at herself because the competitive side of her that came out around Toby hated the fact that she’d lose anything to him. She even made a mental note to be more careful the next time they encountered hunters just so that she could rub her success in his face. Maybe that was his real motive – to try a tactic that would work on a toddler simply to get the reckless blonde to take better care of herself. Jayde wouldn’t put it past him.

Nadya addressed Skye next. “You got hit on the head pretty hard. How are you feeling?”

The young wolf widened her eyes. “I can see new colors now.”

Nadya laughed and fished out a small flashlight from her bag. “How about dizziness or nausea?”

Jayde watched on as Nadya carefully combed her fingers through Skye’s hair in search of any damage hidden in the light blonde waves. Skye kicked her feet like a little kid getting a check-up, but Jayde noted how her crooked smile evened out to something more… genuine.

Skye was rarely ever anything but mischievous, as if life were just one big joke to her. Of course, there were precious few moments when her serious self would shine through, where there were no jokes to be made and she acted fairly mellow, much to her older sister’s relief. Jayde was shocked to see that happen more often when she interacted with Nadya.

“I feel fine,” Skye answered, then flinched when Nadya touched the sore spot on her head. “Ow! But that hurts.”

“Sorry.” Nadya winced apologetically. “I don’t see any blood, at least.”

The tip of her finger tapped under Skye’s chin to get her to look up. It was then that Jayde noticed she had been chewing on the inside of her cheek. Skye went still as Nadya shined the light in her eyes. It felt like an eternity to Jayde. To see Nadya be so close to her sister, touching her in ways that Jayde longed for. The older wolf realized – with a hot flush to her cheeks – that she was jealous of Skye. That made her bite her cheek even harder as she forced herself to look down.

Nadya stepped away, allowing Jayde to finally breathe normally again. “You don’t have a concussion, but I suggest you ice that for tonight.”

“Sounds good, doc,” she replied with a wink.

Just when Jayde thought she might get over the momentary lapse in her emotions, Nadya blushed. It was subtle enough that she might have been able to convince herself that she imagined it, but her thoughts took what she saw regardless of rationality and ran.

The possibility had never occurred to her until that moment, but Jayde started to wonder if maybe Skye had feelings for the human, too. Jayde certainly couldn’t blame her if she did. It was Nadya, after all. This girl practically had Jayde wrapped around her finger the first day they met. The thing that ate at Jayde more than that were Nadya’s reactions to Skye. She wouldn’t have that hard of a time believing she also felt something for her. Her sister – in all of her annoying glory – was just as much of a catch.

The concept felt nearly unbearable to consider, but Jayde knew that she would never stand in the way of her sister’s happiness or Nadya’s. Especially if it meant Nadya would get to be with someone far more worthy of her affections. Deep down, Jayde has been looking for a good, rock solid excuse to let her go. This possible outcome might be the easiest to accept. That didn’t mean it wasn’t exceptionally painful.

Wallowing in a pit of her own creation caused Jayde to tune the rest of the world out until Nadya’s voice brought her back down to earth.

“Crap, I grabbed the wrong kit,” she grumbled as she sifted through her bag.

Skye gasped dramatically. “Language.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Nadya said with an amused scoff and backed up towards the door. “I’m gonna go back to the car. I’ll pick up some ice for your head on the way back, too.”

“Toby,” Jayde commanded with a purposeful glance. Despite being clear of immediate danger, she didn’t want anyone going anywhere by themselves. Not even to the parking lot.

He nodded in understanding and got up. “Yeah, I’ll go with her.”

Before they left, Nadya locked eyes with Jayde. For that single second, all of her worries were utterly nonexistent. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Try not to get into any more trouble.”

“No promises,” Skye replied. Jayde looked to see that the devious smirk had returned to her face.

The siblings remained seated on the musty motel bed once Toby and Nadya disappeared. The comforter felt scratchy, but Jayde still balled her fists into the fabric and stared at the worn carpet underneath her blood splattered boots. Something metallic tickled the edge of her tongue and she sighed at the sting that shortly followed, releasing her flesh from her own vengeful teeth.

“So, what crawled up your ass?” Skye asked to break the awkward silence.

Jayde gave her a brief side-glance. “Nothing.”

“Right.” Her words already dripped with sarcasm. “You’re just acting like you have to take Old Yeller out back for no reason.”

Jayde felt a brief spark boil in her chest, but it died out as quickly as it came. She didn’t have the will to be angry or defensive. She only sighed again and forced her question out. “Do you like her?”

There was no hesitation in Skye’s answer. “Yeah, of course I like her.”

“No, I mean… Do you like her?"

Confusion twisted the younger wolf’s features as she blinked at Jayde for several moments. Jayde wordlessly begged not to make her spell it out. The question alone was already mortifying enough. As soon as her meaning fully sank in, Skye’s expression promptly turned incredulous.

“Forget it,” Jayde said curtly.

But Skye already jumped on it. “No, you know what? I do like her. I really, really like her. Yeah, I want her to have my babies.”

Jayde had to fight the urge to growl. “It was a genuine question, Skye.”

“And you’re a genuine idiot,” she fired back with no remorse. “I don’t want your girlfriend, Jayde.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She could be.”

“She shouldn’t.”

Skye raised an eyebrow. “That’s not very progressive of you. You’re sounding like Miranda with that old world bullshit. Who cares if Nadya is a human? Just be careful not to break or bite her. That simple.”

Jayde shook her head. “It’s not that…”

The slow nod she saw out of the corner of her eye turned into a shrug as Skye leaned into her. “What if you’re wrong about yourself?” she whispered like a kid telling a secret.

They fell back into another prolonged silence as Jayde rocked back and forth anxiously. She wasn’t wrong about herself, but Jayde somehow still had the smallest bit of hope that she could become someone Nadya deserves. That if she tried to be better, she wouldn’t fight this so hard or put herself through all of this pain. She had it in her. Somewhere. Buried underneath dirt and dust. The best version would peek through the cracks of everything broken about her whenever that girl was near. Jayde just had to figure out a way to widen the fractures and reach through.

But she worried she would break herself even more by doing that.

After a minute, her lungs deflated once more in utter hopelessness. “I am an idiot.”

Familiar footsteps approached the room and Skye nudged her older sister with her elbow. “Chin up, sport.”

Jayde managed to give her a grateful look just as the others returned. Nadya held a small bag of ice in one hand and a different first aid kit in the other. She went to Skye first and handed her the ice for her head.

Guilt immediately flooded Jayde’s system for feeling so jealous. Nadya put in so much effort to take care of them all and Jayde had been worried that she wanted her sister over her. She needed to get over herself.

“Okay, you’re good to go. Just take it easy,” Nadya ordered.

Skye enthusiastically jumped to her feet while balancing the ice pack on top of her head. “Great, I’m gonna go get tacos across the street.”

“Don’t go alone,” Jayde called as she skipped towards the door.

She waved dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, buddy system.”

“You guys want anything?” Toby asked before he trailed after her.

“Just get me whatever you get,” Jayde said.

“Okay. Nadya?”

Nadya sounded slightly distracted as she prepared the kit. “Uh, what kinds are there?”

“Asada, pollo, carnitas.” When she took too long to ponder the options, he translated in a patronizing tone “Beef, chicken, pork.”

She looked up and fixed him with an exasperated stare. “I know what they mean, I was just thinking.”

Toby chuckled. “Any day now.”

“Get me chicken.”

He gave a casual thumbs up. “You got it.”

The motel room grew quiet again once it became only the two young women. The wolf took time to let the human’s presence calm the restless being within. She focused on how her air of crisp autumn spices encompassed her senses, even over the scents of the others. What fascinated Jayde was how her existence always broke through the most powerful things. Werewolves had an incredibly distinct and potent scent, so being around her pack should have masked the humanness of Nadya’s scent. But it didn’t. In fact, Jayde often sensed her before she sensed anything or anyone else. It was always her first.

“Your turn?” Nadya suggested softly, immediately drawing Jayde’s full attention.

Up to that point, she had completely forgotten about her injuries. “Oh, right.”

Nadya came directly to her, standing just inches away. Jayde stared up at her and waited, totally transfixed. “Let’s get a look at that arm.”

Jayde realized she needed to remove her jacket. She snapped herself out of her trance and carefully slipped out of it, grimacing as the fabric tugged at the graze on her bicep. Blood had mostly soaked into the jacket itself, but streaks of crimson still smeared across her skin and reached as low as her wrist.

Nadya bent down and adjusted her glasses to get a better look, but that furrow in her brow looked like it took too much effort. “Do you think we could move to the bathroom? The lighting sucks out here and I gotta get you cleaned up.”

“Yeah.”

Nadya followed closely behind as they entered the bathroom, but lingered over Jayde’s shoulder after turning the light on. “Hey, did you take a hit to the back?”

Jayde craned her neck to see why she looked so concerned, but couldn’t see much of anything. The strain of twisting only made her injured shoulder spike with pain. “Um, I’m not sure. Maybe? I remember getting punched or something.”

“There’s blood, Jay,” Nadya informed her, still inspecting the wound. “Take this off.”

Jayde felt her entire body flare with intense heat as Nadya tugged at her shirt. She hesitated for a few beats to let the embarrassment pass. It wasn’t like Nadya hadn't seen her without a shirt on before. Hell, she’s seen her naked. She’s seen her turn into a goddamn werewolf, for fuck’s sake. Jayde wanted to curse at herself for being so stupid.

She struggled to get out of the shirt on her own. It was enough that her shoulder felt as sore as it did, but now that she had been made aware of it, the wound on Jayde’s back stung like a bitch. As much as she wanted to hide her pain, she wasn’t able to stop herself from flinching when she tried to work one of her arms out of the ruined clothing.

“Here, let me –” Nadya reached to help, but then her pulse spiked in the wolf’s ears like a drum had been struck and she stopped short. “Can I..?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jayde stammered and braced herself as the human stepped into her space.

Nadya’s hands carefully gripped the bottom of the bloodied shirt and slowly pushed it up her torso. Jayde could tell that she tried not to, but there were still a couple of times where her fingers brushed up against bare skin. Jayde clenched her jaw tightly. Just those small, brief touches caused intense tingling to spread outwards from the places of contact. She shut her eyes and held her breath as her wolf fought to rise to the surface. A shiver raced along Jayde’s spine as she quickly dampened it. After a tense half-second, she felt the restless animal reluctantly retreat.

Despite nearly losing control, Jayde didn’t feel afraid. Maybe because she knew Nadya wasn’t in any danger. The wolf only wanted a glimpse of her, but the last thing Jayde wanted was to cause any potential fear. She certainly didn’t want to think up some shitty excuse to explain why her eyes started to glow.

The two of them successfully got the shirt over Jayde’s head with minimal pain and discarded it on the floor. Meeting Nadya’s gaze after that felt far braver than facing any hunter. She had this look in her warm brown eyes that Jayde couldn’t quite decipher. However, the physical effect in Nadya’s body was more obvious. Being so close, Jayde sensed it all.

An erratic heartbeat. A clipped breath caught in her throat. A blooming scent that tempted Jayde nearer.

Those were not things she noticed in Nadya with anyone else, Jayde realized.

“I’m going to, uh…” Nadya motioned awkwardly, finally just shuffling behind her again.

Jayde cleared her throat to banish her own nerves and brushed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “How’s it looking back there?”

“This is pretty deep,” she murmured and began to clean it. “You really didn’t feel this?”

Jayde tensed at the incredibly cold sensation of a disinfectant wipe against her hot skin, but she still gave a half shrug. “I remember being hit, but that’s all.”

“Well, you got lucky. It could have punctured your lung.”

Jayde set her hands on the edge of the sink and watched Nadya’s reflection carefully through the mirror. “Yeah, I feel lucky.”

“That better not be sarcasm. Not when I’m looking at all these scars.” Nadya scolded as she got the stitches ready. “It looks like you should be dead ten times over.”

“It’s because I should be.”

They briefly shared a look. Nadya’s expression remained unreadable. Not that Jayde had the time to properly study it before she went back to work.

She didn’t say anything while she made a few sutures — being too focused on her task of mending a werewolf — but then Jayde saw her brown eyes peek over her shoulder again. “I’m really glad you aren’t, by the way.”

Jayde exhaled an almost whispered response. “Me too.”

A bandage was carefully placed over the newly stitched wound, but Nadya lingered behind her. Jayde wondered if maybe she had spotted another wound that hadn’t quite traveled through her nerves and up to her brain yet, but then felt an incredibly delicate sensation tickle her lower back. It took a moment for her to realize that it was the tip of Nadya’s finger trailing over what had to be one of her scars. Jayde froze in place, not having a single clue how to react.

“How many are there?” Nadya’s voice sounded distant.

Jayde gripped the edges of the sink so that she wouldn’t fall over as the girl traced another sensitive mark. She was afraid that the slightest movement would cause her to stop. “I’ve never counted.”

A soft hum echoed in the bathroom. “I guess you’ve got a couple more now. Which reminds me…” Nadya pulled her hand away, but before disappointment twisted an invisible knife in the werewolf’s chest, her palm rested on her hip and turned her around.

The human’s sudden willingness to touch her in ways that could be considered intimate left Jayde’s mind in a utter stupor, stirring her inner self once more. She didn’t know what to make of it. Or what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, though that remained a line Jayde felt she shouldn’t cross.

Nadya went to work on the laceration that cut through her upper arm and Jayde found herself thoroughly fascinated with the process. The human’s eyes were so focused, making sure each and every stitch was up to her standard. The way her brows knitted in concentration — the thin frame of her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose — replaced Jayde’s heart with a pair of fluttering wings. She could stare at her for hours.

Nadya finally glanced up while she wrapped her arm. This time, her blush was entirely noticeable. “What?”

The question made Jayde realize she had been smiling. She quickly looked away, though she couldn’t fully wipe the expression from her face. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Nadya said slowly, confused amusement written on her face. “Well, I’m all done.”

Jayde nodded as she cleaned the mess up. As soon as the kit was packed, Nadya gave the wolf an unsure look and turned to leave the bathroom. On impulse, Jayde caught her wrist to stop her. A small gasp escaped Nadya’s lips at the unexpected touch, but she still waited expectantly.

“Thank you.” Jayde caressed the smooth curve of her wrist with her thumb. For the first time, she didn’t try to hide it. She wanted Nadya to feel her gratitude. “For taking care of us.”

Nadya’s features softened into an absolutely stunning smile. “I like taking care of you.”

It took everything Jayde had not to pull her in. She yearned to feel Nadya against her. Longed to brush their lips together. To hold her close and swallow every breath. Feel all the ways she could get her heart to race. Instead, Jayde’s fingers went slack and Nadya slipped out of her grasp, leaving her alone in the bathroom with the ghost of her contact still prickling across the surface of her skin.

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @statichvm @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch

#oc insp: jayde thatcher #oc insp: nadya bishop #oc insp: toby cortez #oc insp: skye thatcher #ship insp: woven and thatched #insp: the lodge #oh look the gang's all here #this is the whole pack btw #well... the whole pack up to a certain Event and then a couple more join the picture #i love how i sift through my older writing being like 'ugh god this is unreadable garbage' and it's never as bad as i expect it to be #but the perfectionist in me feels a lot better when i fix certain parts that bugged me #i mean nothing will ever be perfect in my eyes but i sure do like feeling proud of my work #and i feel like i've really improved since then #anyway jayde is cringefail at the beginning and slightly less as the story goes on because self awareness only gets you so far #I actually got a commission of this scene that is like INCREDIBLE #the artist wanted to animate it and I was like FUCK YEAH #anyway maybe I'll whip it back out again now that I've posted this if ya'll wanna see

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reading-sometimes · 10 months

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PAW Patrol SHC Sorting

The vast majority of TV shows for children glorify Badger primaries, and PAW Patrol is no exception. I mean, there were going to episodes at the start of the series where Ryder rescued all of the pups one at a time. Instead, they were already a team from the start because of a Canadian TV requirement for shows for preschoolers to have prosocial themes (like literally rescuing puppies wasn't prosocial enough, lol). So, there are going to be a lot of Badgers (especially Double Badgers). There are very few models because they're pretty simple characters who are mentally stable and act the same way in every situation. A basic explanation of the SHC system by @wisteria-lodge is here. Let's get the obvious ones out of the way first.

Ryder : Badger Bird

Ryder fits in with the stereotypical "STEM genius who also wants to help people" type of Badger Bird commonly found in characters like Tadashi from Big Hero 6. He's a Universal Badger who even saved the main villain of the series. He likes building gadgets, which is basically correspondent to a Bird secondary in this show.

Rocky : Badger Bird

He's essentially the same as Ryder, and they both build stuff. The only real difference between Ryder and Rocky is that Rocky also cares about the environment (Ryder probably does too, but with Rocky it's more explicit).

Everest : Double Badger

She's the definition of a Double Badger. She's so lonely that she latches onto the literal first person she sees (Jake) and even tried to rescue penguins before she joined the PAW Patrol. She says specifically that she "practiced rescuing penguins", which means that the penguins probably didn't need her help, but she did it anyway. It's a miracle that she never became a Burned Badger, despite being on her own for so long. As for her secondary, she tends to rely on the Courier Badger subtype way more than the Bookkeeper Badger subtype, which will become a recurring theme.

Marshall : Double Badger

He's also an obvious Double Badger. When he thinks that the rest of the PAW Patrol doesn't like him, he literally packs up and leaves (which is more commonly a Snake primary kicking themselves out of their inner circle, but Marshall couldn't rank anyone to save his life). He leaves because he thinks that he's "can't do anything right" because he keeps messing up when he tries to help people. This hints at the possibility of a Burnt Badger, at least for that episode. He also relies really heavily on the Courier Badger subtype.

Skye : Badger Lion

She's a Universal Badger (I mean, all of them are, lol), because she likes animals. I mostly based the Lion secondary off of her competitiveness in earlier seasons, her general penchant for risk-taking, and that scene of her skydiving from the movie. She was free-falling without a parachute, and she was just whooping and having fun.

Zuma : Double Lion

He's the definition of a Chill Lion primary, and he's also probably also a Paragon Lion. Zuma's secondary was actually hard for me to figure out, since he's a surfer dude who's pretty calm most of the time. I considered that he could be a Lion Badger who was literally just vibing all the time and going with the flow with their Courier Badger, before I realized that writing about so many Badger secondaries were warping my brain and that he wasn't a Badger secondary. I thought about a Lion Snake, but he's the most stable pup alive. Even in emergencies, he's just chilling out. He doesn't get fazed by anything.

He's probably the most chill Double Lion imaginable, since he also had a competitive streak in the earlier seasons, but that was really only in the first few episodes. He also has a penchant for risk-taking, though, which points to an improvisational secondary.

Chase : Double Badger

He was actually the hardest to sort for me. I considered a Snake Primary, since in the unlikely scenario where the PAW Patrol disbanded, he'd probably follow Ryder. He'd feel guilty about it, though, which points to a Badger primary.

I considered a Bird primary who has a very Badger-looking system to match Ryder, which would probably make his Bird primary Exploded too. In season one, he was scared of ghosts until Ryder told him that they weren't real, and then in season two he acted like he'd never believed that ghosts existed (which is in character for him, lol). Chase has the very specific malleability of a Bird Primary who's modelling an Exploded Badger. He'll make himself into whatever the group needs him to be, which is the definition of an Exploded Badger, but I think it's different with Bird primaries specifically because it requires a loss of agency, something that Bird primaries live by. Chase actively doesn't want agency, though. Even when he's ordering the other pups around, he's doing it in the context of rules and responsibilities, things that are outside of himself rather than internal. Bird primaries look for morality outside of themselves, even saying that they'd like a book to follow throughout their lives, which definitely fits Chase. Bird primaries also desire freedom and the ability to choose what their morality system is while exploring different options, which he doesn't want.

Chase's Badger primary is probably exploded, since he feels the need to work even when he's sick and he does things that he doesn't really want to do, like leading the PAW Patrol. Granted, this could just be the pressure of the situation, since he's generally fine with delegating responsibilities to the rest of the PAW Patrol, but that's more Ryder taking advantage of his Authoritarian Badger than anything. As for his secondary, he relies heavily on the Bookkeeper Badger subtype. He learns best by following step-by-step instructions one step at a time.

Sweetie : Snake Bird

She's a Snake Bird who acts like an Immature Lion Bird most of the time. She cares about her owner and that's literally it. She's a villain, so she's allowed to act selfish and arrogant. She's a Glory Hound Lion because she wants to be the queen. She's a Bird secondary because she presumably made Bugsby, the little green robot that follows her around, and because she likes having plans.

#paw patrol #sorting house chats

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polygonal-trees · 1 year

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Pure Atmosphere

Due to a completely unexpected and unpredictable Wheeljack-and-Starscream based incident, the Decepticon's temporary lodgings have been rendered uninhabitable. Fortunately, in the peace brought about in the wake of the Quintesson invasion, many Autobots are happy to open their doors to their Decepticon neighbors. Optimus Prime is no exception. Megatron, on the other hand, is perhaps not quite so eager.

Warnings: None

Pairings: Optimus&Megatron (pre-relationship)

Length: 2694

A/N: a silly fic based on an post I made because I feel down a relaxing Transformers ambiance rabit hole haha, don’t take it too seriously

Also on AO3

Optimus should have predicted this. Actually he suspected a lot of people had, if the amount of side-eyeing and just-barely-audible muttering was anything to go by. But at the same time, he couldn’t honestly say much could have been done to prevent it. It was like a force of nature, a natural phenomenon or, more accurately…

“It’s all his fault!” Starscream shrieked, jabbing one soot soaked finger at Wheeljack.

“Me?” the equally sooty Wheeljack replied, voice rising with indignation. “You’re the one who–!”

…a natural disaster.

And, alright, maybe allowing Starscream unrestricted access to the lab while Wheeljack was working and while Skyfire wasn’t there to mediate had been a bit of an oversight, but he’d been doing so well. No murder attempts, no weapons of mass destruction, not even that many death threats, all things considered. And while Optimus couldn’t say with certainty that Starscream wasn’t plotting anything at all, his scientific prowess and surprisingly good managerial skills had been vital in bringing Cybertron that bit closer to the peaceful haven they all dreamed of.

So naturally, he and Wheeljack had somehow managed to destroy not only their lab, but also fill the entire Decepticon Command Quarters with stinking, sticky smoke. The whole building had to be fumigated; most likely deep cleaned and repainted as well. The Constructioncons were debating whether it would be more worthwhile to simply demolish and rebuild the whole thing. This, naturally, had led to a lot of displaced, disgruntled Decepticons.

Still, Optimus could see a silver lining. Whereas just a few lunar cycles before, the Decepticons would have returned to the dingy halls of the Nemesis or, worse yet, been forced to pitch a few tents, most had already found accommodation with their new Autobots friends. Hot Rod, of course, had leapt at the chance to invite Soundwave to stay with him. Clobber was already planning a slumber party with Alpha Strike. Skye-Byte was confident that Jetfire would put him up, and Shadow Striker had taken Windblade and Bumblebee’s invitation, albeit somewhat reluctantly. It seemed a given that Shockwave would stay with Wheejack and Starscream would return to the Seekers’ Aerie until Skyfire returned. So that only left…

“Megatron,” said Optimus, trying his best to school his expression, “the decision is yours, but know that my door is always open to you.”

Megatron stopped glowering for a moment and gave him a… complicated look. Their relationship had improved, dramatically so, but there remained a gulf between them that would not be so easily healed.

But Optimus would always, always try.

“I’ll think about it,” Megatron grunted, which was exactly what Optimus had been hoping to hear.

Megatron stewed over the offer for the rest of the day, but he knew on some level that he'd already made up his mind. It wasn't every day he was invited to his former nemesis' home after all. And besides, after the day’s fiasco he wanted to put as much space between himself and Starscream as possible.

Megatron arrived that evening unannounced, but if Optimus was going to change his mind he would have said so already. He didn't even seem surprised to open the door and find Megatron waiting tensely on the doormat, inviting him inside with a winning smile.

"Welcome to my humble hab," said Optimus Prime.

Megatron stepped forward and looked around the room with an assessing scowl. With much of Cybertron still in ruins and most of its surviving citizens still living in temporary housing, Megatron had expected something small. He had not, however, expected something this small.

Optimus inhabited a room that was, somehow, even more miniscule than the apartment he’d rented as a file clerk. The furniture had been arranged in a desperate attempt to give the illusion of a larger space, with the convoy-class couch creating a barrier between the recharge berth in the back left corner and the rest of the room, but it still felt incredibly stifling. It didn’t help that Optimus had crammed his work desk against the only window, and despite how carefully he’d arranged his datapads he had clearly run out of drawer space.

Someone had retrofitted a holoscreen on the right hand wall, opposite the couch, leaving exposed cables and ugly support brackets. The wall directly to the left of the door was occupied by Cybtertron’s smallest kitchenette, which was little more than an energon dispenser and a narrow counter, complete with a few novelty glasses and mugs, including one moulded into the vague shape of a singlehorn's head. What little space remained was taken up by shelves, crammed with datapads and knick-knacks.

A door to the left led to the private washracks, one of the few luxuries the Autobots afforded their leader. Thank Primus.

"Yes," Megatron sneered, "humble indeed."

Optimus laughed. Megatron glowered reproachfully.

"Forgive me," said Optimus, "but I knew you were going to say that. Besides, if I had chosen something grander, don't tell me you wouldn't scoff at the extravagance instead."

“Surely being leader of the Autobots can get you something better than this,” Megatron muttered half-heartedly, feeling understood in a way he didn't particularly like.

“I don’t mind,” said Optimus, because of course he didn’t.

Megatron turned his attention to the couch instead.

"Don't tell me you expect me to sleep on that,” he said derisively. “Or on the floor." Not that it was any of Optimus' business but Megatron's back wasn't what it used to be.

"Of course not," said Optimus, in that infuriatingly placating way of his. "But we won't need to sleep for a while yet. Would you like some energon?"

Megatron took a cautious step into the apartment. "I fueled before I got here," he said automatically, several million stellar cycles of war cautioning him against accepting fuel from an enemy.

Optimus turned from where he had already begun rifling through the kitchen cupboards with such a crestfallen look on his face that Megatron had to look away.

"I could manage half a cube," he said casually, making his way to the couch and promptly bashing his shin on the half hidden low table. A delicate vase of crystal clippings wobbled dangerously. Primus, as if the room needed more clutter!

Optimus clattered around while Megatron sat stiffly on the very edge of the couch, glaring at his reflection in the black holoscreen and trying to relax his shoulders. What was making him so tense anyway? They'd been alone together during plenty of parlays during the war…

Ah, but he was expecting you to be on your guard. He knew he had no chance of taking you down. Now, in this cosy little habsuite, he could wait for you to relax, stage a carefully timed distraction, and…

Optimus set a mug of energon down on the low table and Megatron's plating clamped so hard and fast he sounded like a box of cutlery being dropped down the stairs.

Optimus either didn't notice or tactfully chose not to mention it. He chose a spot on the sofa a respectful distance away and lightly sipped his drink.

"Do you still enjoy magnesium?" Optimus asked suddenly. "I should not have assumed…"

"Magnesium is fine," Megatron said gruffly. Truth be told he preferred iron those days, but he wasn’t about to make a scene. That bad habit belonged to Starscream.

Trying not to appear too hesitant, Megatron picked up his glass and took a sip, letting it sit for a while before swallowing, sensors primed for any trace of poison.

They found none. Just the rich taste of energon sharped by the magnesium's tang. It tasted fine. Of course it tasted fine. As if Optimus Prime would ever poison anyone.

"It's good," Megatron admitted, taking another sip.

"I'm glad!" said Optimus. "I wasn't sure if I remembered. It… It has been a long time."

“It has, hasn’t it,” Megatron mused, watching the metal flakes swirl around in his energon

Optimus sipped his drink with an appreciative hum. “Reminds me of the times after some of your matches.”

Megatron nodded vaguely. He remembered, quite keenly, how after a particularly rough few rounds he often wouldn’t feel like pushing his way through the gladiator's mess or having to posture and strut his way into one of the nearby bars. Instead he and Optimus would retreat to Megatron’s sparse lodgings and gradually unwind, sipping warmed energon as they plotted revolution.

So much for that, Megatron thought bitterly.

"Is there anything decent on Autobot TV?" he blurted, decidedly uninterested in unpacking any of their shared history.

Optimus gave him a look of polite confusion. "I am… fairly certain that our respective factions receive the same broadcasts." But with agonising politeness he reached for the remote.

Autobot TV was, indeed, exactly the same as Decepticon TV. Cybertron's entertainment industry was one of the slowest to recover, and it left the planet's denizens with very little sound to fill the awkward silence. Soundwave had imported (or rather pirated) a handful of human shows, but Megatron wasn't especially familiar with any of Earth's cultures and didn't care to learn, so the nuances were all lost on him.

Thankfully Optimus settled on an old Cube highlight reel and went back to sipping his energon. Megatron finished his and fiddled idly with the glass. It had ‘I spark Caminus’ etched into the crystal. A gift from the Autobot City Speaker, no doubt.

"That was a good game," Optimus remarked quietly.

"Hm?" Megatron glanced at the screen. He had never watched a lot of Cube. He'd been too busy participating in a far less friendly sport. "Oh, yes. Nyon vs…" Megatron squinted at the opposing team's colours. "Kalis."

“It’s a shame neither of them ever made it to the finals,” said Optimus. “They both had some very unique tactics.”

“I didn’t know you liked cube,” said Megatron, tone a little more accusing than he’d intended.

“Ah, well…” Optimus seemed slightly embarrassed. “Many Autobots were fans… I suppose I picked it up over the millenia.”

“Ah,” said Megatron, not sure what to say to that. He certainly used to pay attention to his Decepticons’ interests… or at least Soundwave’s… or at least Soundwave’s music…

The vidscreen played, and the light beyond the window faded slowly into twilight.

"Well," Optimus said eventually, "it is getting late. Perhaps we should retire for the night?"

Megatron nodded and stood, a few kinked cables pinging as he stretched.

"Why do you talk like that?" he asked abruptly. "It's so formal."

Optimus paused in fiddling with the remote and glanced up. "Oh. Well." He looked a little sheepish. "I suppose I've been giving speeches for so long it's become hard to turn it off."

The vidscreen went black and Optimus got to his feet. Megatron felt a sliver of satisfaction at the unmistakable sound of joints clicking.

"You sound as if you're about to beg the senate for better welfare schemes," Megatron grumbled. "At least throw in a 'frag' sometimes."

That received a startled laugh. "Would that not make it fragging worse?" Optimus shot back.

Megatron's mouth twisted in disgust. Optimus laughed again, but not in a mean spirited way. Megatron found himself surprisingly unoffended. The sound was… not unpleasant.

"We should sleep," said Megatron, before he could get too far with that train of thought.

"Of course."

Megatron edged his way around the low table and went to the tiny washracks to rinse the magnesium out of his denta. He could hear Optimus clattering around in the kitchen, washing their glasses, and suddenly Megatron felt keenly aware of just how small the apartment was and just how close they were going to be for the foreseeable future. Maybe he should have made peace with sleeping in the Nemesis. Maybe he should still do that and leave. Soon. Now.

But no. Megatron would not bow to something as banal as social awkwardness. He would not be defeated!

The berth was, as expected, just as humble as the rest of the apartment, if not moreso. But it was clean, sturdy, and large – even for a convoy class. Megatron sat on the edge as Optimus closed the blinds, cutting off the last of the sunset and leaving them in the glow of their biolights.

“What a day,” Optimus mumbled to himself, stretching his arms above his head. “Goodnight, Megatron. Let me know if you need anything.” His silhouette turned towards the couch.

"Wait," said Megatron. He wasn't quite sure why.

Optimus paused. "What is it?"

Megatron scrambled for an excuse. "You're not sleeping on the couch with smokestacks like those are you?”

“I’m sure it won’t do too much harm,” said Optimus, faintly amused. “Unless you’re suggesting we share the berth?”

Megatron hesitated. What game was Optimus playing? Surely he expected Megatron to scoff and refuse, so…

“Well,” Megatron said stiffly. “I mean. I would allow it.”

Silence lingered in the wake of his words. Megatron wished he could see Optimus’ face, if just to get a better idea of what he was thinking.

“Thank you,” Optimus said, with that damn Primly passiveness that made Megatron itch to take a swing at him just to get a reaction. But he reigned himself in, every cable clenched, eyes trained on blue biolights as Optimus shuffled closer and closer. He reached the opposite edge of the berth and lay down with a sigh.

“Goodnight Megatron,” Optimus said softly.

“…Goodnight,” said Megatron. He lay down and shuffled awkwardly. He hadn’t expected this. He wasn’t sure what to do. He shifted again, trying to get comfortable, and felt the very edge of his smallest digit brush against part of Optimus Prime.

Megatron snatched his hand away as if he'd been burned. He ended up lying on his back, so close to the edge that his arm hung off the side and pulled at his shoulder unpleasantly. Still decidedly unsettled, Megatron closed his tired optics and tried to power down.

He couldn’t sleep.

There was no sound beyond the tiny room. No wind, no engines, no voices. Nothing but the very faintest hum of energy in the walls, and even that was muffled by layers of steel.

The room itself was quiet, so quiet Megatron could hear every single whir and hum and click from the frame lying next to his. Every draw of breath, every shuffle and twitch, every movement however small felt like a gunshot to Megatron’s restless processor.

He opened his eyes. Barely five minutes had passed.

Optimus fidgeted beside him and rolled over with the sound of a thunderclap. Megatron glanced towards him and saw the faint blue glow of open optics against the far wall.

The Constructicons couldn’t possibly work fast enough. How was Megatron supposed to endure multiple nights of this? He’d been foolish, thinking it could work, that he would ever let his guard down around Optimus again. It had been too long and they had grown too distant.

“Megatron,” Optimus said suddenly, making him flinch, “would you mind if I played a sleep aid?”

“A what?”

“An audio file,” Optimus elaborated. “I find it helps me sleep.”

“Alright,” Megatron said cautiously. It couldn't be worse than the silence at least.

Optimus fumbled with something on his side of the berth. The harsh glare of a datapad briefly lit the darkness before Optimus turned the brightness down. A pause, and then he was settling back onto the berth as whatever he’d chosen began to play.

Megatron closed his eyes and listened.

It sounded like… the steady rumble of spaceship engines. Enormous, but distant. Whatever Megatron had expected, it hadn’t been this. He listened more closely, and beneath the soothing thrum he could make out different, less constant sounds.

Muffled voices, as though from several rooms away.

Faint footsteps, passing through a distant corridor.

The occasional muted clatter and thud.

The distant drone of electronics.

It was almost exactly like being back on a spaceship. He even imagined he could feel the berth vibrating ever so slightly, as though moved by the engine’s hum.

It felt familiar.

It felt safe.

it felt like the Nemesis.

And although sleep was slow to settle nonetheless, the next few nights no longer looked so bleak.

#cyberverse #tf cyberverse #maccadam #megop #megatron #optimus prime #transformers fanfiction #my writing

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iliketigers · 2 months

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#movie #snapshot #gas food lodging #ione skye

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chaoticlicense · 8 months

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No More Than a Memory: Chapter 10

Chapter Summary: While the war for Pandora rages around her, choices are made that lead to death and the start of a new life.

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: SFW, Miles Quaritch, Recom Miles Quaritch, Miles Quaritch x OC, Recom Miles Quaritch x OC, Female OC, AFAB OC, Mentions of: War, Guns, Blood, Weapons, Death, Shooting, Flashback

AO3

Chapter 10

Previous Chapter

Before—Skye's POV

War rages around her. Battle cries echo through the trees and the skies. Ikrans and their riders fly overhead, fighting the helicopters and planes opening fire on them. She hears the screams of the fallen all around her as she runs through the forest. The wet earth sinks beneath her feet, drenched in the blood of the fallen whose bodies litter the forest floor. Skye is faster than the humans in her Avatar form, but not fast enough. Bullets whistle past her ears. She runs as fast as she can, diving under branches, leaping over roots and rocks and bodies. Miles is close on her heels, taunting her with menacing words. She curses him and herself for being in this situation to begin with. Had she not missed him with her spear, she would have been able to retreat back to the link site safely.

But he is relentless and she is weaponless.

Bark splinters as the bullets meant for her find themselves lodged in the trees. As one grazes her shoulder, leaving a sharp sting in its wake as warm blood drips down her arm, she dives behind the nearest tree and crouches with her back to it. With heaving breaths, she takes a moment to recuperate. She has to get back to the link site. Back to her body and back to Jake’s. The two of them are vulnerable and Jake is too far away to get back to it in time now that Miles is on the warpath.

When Skye saw Miles’ AMP drop from the burning plane, she locked eyes with him as she clutched her spear. All he did was smirk, believing that she didn’t have it in her to throw it. But she did. And she missed. Whether by accident or by subconscious intent to avoid hurting the man she loved…it didn’t matter. What matters is that he wants Jake dead and he will stop at nothing to do it. Including going after her.

The site isn’t far away now. She can see it through the brush as she catches her breath. In hindsight, she should have taken off in a different direction than the link site but the only thing on her mind was to get back to protect Jake. Peering over her shoulder and around the tree, she sees Miles’ AMP come to a halt as his attention is drawn to the vision of the link site nearby. She can’t let him reach it before her but there’s a slim chance of making it back alive if he takes another shot. So, she takes a moderately calculated risk and closes her eyes…

As her consciousness is transferred back to her human body, she throws open the link and clambers out of it. Grabbing a mask nearby, she catches a glimpse of Miles approaching from the window. From where she stands, his face is hard, determined as he makes his way over. But before he can reach the shack, Neytiri emerges on the back of a Thanator. She makes for Miles, engaging in a fight that ends with the Thanator’s death and her being trapped beneath the weight of its corpse.

Skye doesn't think twice as she reaches for her handgun, hanging in its holster at the door, and running outside. Miles stands with his blade over Neytiri’s struggling figure, ready to strike her down. Before he has the chance, however, she takes a shot. Her bullet does little damage but it’s enough to draw his attention. Dropping his blade, Miles turns to her, chest heaving, eyes watching as she comes to stand between him and Neytiri.

“So, what? You’re choosing one of them over me? Over the survival of your own race?” he asks, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I should have known you were as much of a traitor as the rest of them.”

“You’ve always known where my loyalties lie, Miles. Even before I came here…” she pauses, shaking the memories of her life before Pandora. “You’ve always known, you just chose to ignore it.”

Pursing his lips, he looks between Skye and Neytiri who continues to struggle with the Thanator. Skye takes a few more steps towards her, hoping to buy her time. Miles draws his gun. Her own remains in a loose grip as she raises her hands.

“Please don’t do this, Miles. There’s still time to end it, to turn back and start over. We can still have that life you wanted. Please...let it go.”

She looks at him through the pane of glass in his AMP and she begs. She pleads. She tries to reach the part of him that she knows exists. The part that is human, that is honourable, that is good. But all of that is gone now. He stares at her and she stares back as the realisation hits her once and for all: the man she thought she knew is gone.

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

“Do not test me!”

She remains unmoving.

Out of the corner of her eye, she takes note of a blue blur moving through the trees. Her gaze flickers towards the movement. Jake. At least, she hopes it’s Jake. If Jake is nearby, that means all she has to do is buy some more time.

Licking her lips, Skye looks back to Miles. His finger hovers over the trigger, threatening action. But it doesn’t matter how much he threatens her, she is unwavering in her stance. She always will be. He knows this. He knows her. And he knows that she is too damn stubborn to give up and turn her back on the Na’vi after all these years. She loves them too much. Which leaves him with only one option.

An option, it seems that she has also considered. Her grip on the gun tightens as she slowly turns the weapon to aim it in his direction.

“This is what’s come to, then?” he asks.

“I don’t see it ending any other way, Miles…” she says. “Not unless you stand down but we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“No, it won’t.”

He sighs and pulls the trigger.

A voice calls to her. A warm, comforting tone that feels familiar yet distant. There is light too. Soft, warm light that embraces her in an all-encompassing comfort. She doesn't know where she is or what has happened to her but she is not afraid. She knows that there should be pain, and suffering after Miles shot her but there is none. There is nothing but chanting tones and a voice reassuring her that she is safe.

When the chanting stops the light fades and Skye finds herself enclosed in darkness. Familiar voices speak in hushed tones over her resting body. They murmur and wonder if she survived. In the dark behind her eyelids, she wonders the same thing. A part of her knows she should be dead. She should have bled out on the grass after Miles’ bullet lodged itself in her abdomen. But she survived. Whether by chance or by Eywa’s grace, she doesn't know.

What she does know is that there is no pain, no shock, no fading consciousness as she clings to life. And there are voices. Voices that rouse her from the dream-like state she’s been floating in.

When Skye finally comes to, her eyes flutter open and she takes a deep breath of the pure, clean Pandorian air. She is met with familiar faces belonging to Jake in his Avatar form, Neytiri, and Mo’at. Hundreds of other surviving Omatikaya surround her and look on with curious eyes.

Jake sighs when she opens her eyes, relieved.

Neytiri smiles as she brings the tips of her fingers to her forehead and gestures them towards her. She manages a small smile as she repeats the gesture.

“Oel ngati kameie, Skye,” she greets.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neytiri,” Skye returns.

“Welcome home.”

END OF PART ONE

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