Tumgik
#so are you the captain of this warship is this your army??
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Being Neon J's daughter :
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He and his wife always wanted to start a family, but his obligations in the army make it difficult.
When he was called for the border war, he asked the hospital to conserve some samples of his genetic material, so their dream can become true if something happened to him.
The war was unforgivable and murderous, but the thought of finally coming home to his dear wife, settle down and having children kept his spirit up.
After his warship was bombarded, he lost his crew and most of his body. He miraculously survived, but the majority of his body must have been replaced by robotic parts.
When he came back, his wife was crying of relief and pain. Seeing her husband in this state, but alive, put her emotions into a roller-coaster.
After his comeback, they decided to have a child.
The pregnancy goes well, they learnt that they'll be the parents of an adorable daughter. Everything was so perfect. If only it would last forever.
But fate had other plans.
His wife didn't survive the birth, leaving you and your father.
Neon J was devastated, why life must be so cruel. Giving him great joy then pulling him into misery.
But he must be strong. It only you two now, he must be strong for you, to protect you, to make sure his dear wife rest in peace, knowing both of you live in happiness.
It's a this moment he created the first models of 1010.
His passion always was music and dance. So, now that his military carrier is behind him, he'll become the next star of Vinyl City.
You were there when he taught the first models how to dance and sing. It wasn't very good. But your 3 years old self found it funny and loved to clap her hand in rhythm.
The second version of the 1010 was more human like and a little less army lookalike. They were better, but still not very popular because of their looks. And the five of them look perfectly the same, so people didn't really see the point of a band make of only one people multiplied.
The idea of making them in different colors went from you. You sticked stickers on them, with an unique color for each of them. It helped you to remember who was who. You father found the idea brilliant.
And so were made the third generation of 1010. You big brothers.
You loved them, and they loved you. Neon J was so proud of his little family. He hoped his dear wife could see that from where she is.
You takes part of 1010 training routine. You love dancing and your father is an excellent teacher.
You go to Vinyl City Elementary School, but your dream is to go to the military school. The only problem is that your father is formally against it. He refuses that you get enrolled in the army.
It really upset you, but you will prove to your father that you are strong enough to become at great general, like him.
If only you know he refuse because he's scared of what could happen to you. He doesn't want you to go though what he did.
He's kind of protective, sometimes too much.
Your brothers have a protocol named "Y/n's protection" coded deep inside them.
When Neon J isn't here to give them orders, you are the one who gives them orders.
They are not obligated to listen to them, but you're so cute when you act like that. And you never disrespect them, you they play along.
Since your brothers have a sailor uniform, you asked your dad one too.
How can he resist those puppy eyes when you asked him so sweetly "Can I have my own uniform too dad, please."
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Now, you look like your brothers!
But you refused to wear the hat. You find it ridiculous.
Your dad works a lot, to the point of exhaustion. So when you saw him sleeping against his desk, you stole his coat and his captain hat and decided to supervised the concert for him.
You are 9 years old. You can do that. And your brothers agree with you. Your dad really need to rest.
You're not afraid of those rock revolutionaries. Let them come, they will see what 1010 is made of.
They will pay for what they have done to your friends' family. And for making Lady Tatiana angry.
They better have come with their tactical thermals goggles, because-
YOU'RE GONNA BRING THE HEAT!
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ducksbellorum · 2 months
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full speed ahead (listen/download)
an argo ii playlist - the heroes of olympus - arranged by ducksbellorum
full speed ahead - epic the musical Every great quest aboard a magitechnical Greek warship deserves an equally great playlist, or at least that's what Leo tells everyone when he asks for their song choices. Six hundred men, six hundred miles of open sea But the problem's not the distance It's what lies in between
this is sparta !!! - sammy & lesen Obviously this was one of Leo's contributions; the bass gets him hype and the fact that he's bumping Spartan jams on a Greek warship just tickles him. Spartans, What is your profession? Spartans, Prepare for glory!
vode an - samuel kim Jason added this to the playlist; he doesn't know a lot of 'modern' music, but this track reminds him of Roman war chants and gets him going. Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an. Coruscanta a'den mhi, Vode an. Bal kote, darasuum kote, Jorso'ran kando a tome.
seven nation army - the white stripes Percy Jackson was tempted to add a joke track, but knowing Leo there would be plenty and besides, why not add something he actually wants to listen to? Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell And if I catch it comin' back my way, I'm gonna serve it to you And that ain't what you want to hear, but that's what I'll do
yereyira - papito & iba one Piper spent a lot of her life around spoiled pop musicians and their kids, so her music tastes tend toward the most obscure artists possible on purpose. Pa-pa-pa-pa-papito I-i-i-i-iba one Papito, Iba One Iba One, Papito!
shake it off - taylor swift There is in fact a Swiftie aboard the Argo II and it's Frank Zhang; he's a little bashful about it but that doesn't stop him from adding it to the playlist. I'm dancin' on my own I make the moves up as I go And that's what they don't know, That's what they don't know
over the rainbow - judy garland Like Jason, Hazel also doesn't know much modern music, but that doesn't hold her back from getting Leo to add one of her favorites to the crew's mix. Somewhere over the rainbow Skies are blue And the dreams that you dare to dream Really do come true
laughter lines - bastille This is Annabeth's pull; most of her music is lyricless for better concentration, but occasionally she veers into bittersweet indie pop, like this. "I'll see you in the future when we're older And we are full of stories to be told Cross my heart and hope to die I'll see you with your laughter lines"
sea shanty medley - home free If you don't think that the crew did some shanty singing on their journey, you're probably right but that won't stop me from hoping they did. She's a fast clipper ship and a bully good crew Away Santiana And an old salty yank for a captain too Along the plains of Mexico
bonus: spooky scary skeletons (remix) - andrew gold "Hey Nico, you want to add a song to the quest playlist?" "No." "Are you suuuuure?" "Yes." "I'll just add one for you, then, shall I?" "VALDEZ!" We're so sorry skeletons, you're so misunderstood You only want to socialize (But I don't think we should)
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chairteeth · 10 months
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Random story revision commentary #2
Welp this time I got through more chapters, and a warning for... Uhhh fantasy violence? But with guns. I'm not sure what trigger that is.
“Jesdale! Come on, we need those missiles over here!”
The fact that this is the line chapter 2 opens with,
Every non-essential worker had been assigned to various wartime tasks,
COVID MOMENT.
overpopulation aside.
Yeah just offhandedly mention the overpopulation problem in the SRP as if it's not the dumbest shit ever (please there is space you are just refusing to use it the population of the Earth is literally less than 4 billion iirc).
Their leader was in fact passed out on a sofa next to Shane, not even breathing. Despite looking every bit like she was deceased,
I'm
“She of course denied my request and claims that if I go find her and her crew anyway, I won’t get a warm welcome. Wonderful. Let’s prepare some light backpacks for the journey.”
Gretchen: receives a very serious death threat Also Gretchen: ignores it
Shane was surprised, tail curling around his leg. “We’re going after all?” “Um, I’m a little scared of the literal death threat?” Rick said, raising his hand a little in protest.
THE RESPONSES FROM THE SANE PEOPLE, FOLKS.
After a few moments of silence, Shane peeked back into the room. “Did something happen?” “… Gretchen said she would abandon us on the side of the road if we end up being a burden to her.”
Yeah pretty much. She's just doing what she needs to do guys dw about it.
“But aren’t I the crown princess? I should be helping with the war, right?”
SHE SAYS IN CHAPTER 3 AFTER IN HER LAST APPEARANCE SHE BEGGED NOT TO BE SENT TO WAR.
“Why do they hate me?” asked Alice. “Please don’t tell me the birds are also connected to Catherine.”
Honey, when animals don't like you, it's because they Know <3
“Don’t be afraid, spirit animals are intelligent creatures.” “Yeah, it’s not that I’m scared, it’s that I have no idea how this thing acts and I despise uncertainty.”
Girlie… Even the lion doesn't like you.
“So warmongering. Because I know Vicky doesn’t have a navy. Wait, does she?��� she looked down at her superior for an answer. “Does the SRP have a navy?” “It does. Their ships are made of metal, and those cannons are definitely not honorable. As with their firearms, their cowardice knows no bounds. They even ambushed us from below somehow, but Captain Nora has the ability to cut through the metal they use for their ships, and putting anything underwater while we have her deployed is equivalent to suicide on their part. Foolish mistakes are plenty with that incompetent excuse for an army.”
Absolutely wheezing. Yeah we're fighting modern warships and submarines with wooden ships and it's kinda tough sometimes but we can just send this one soldier and destroy them all lmao. Thanks Mel.
“Catherine, if you get this, please do something about the yokai,” she whispered to the air. She wasn’t sure how Catherine’s apparent omnipresence worked, but seeing as she had mentioned the wind and the earth, it was worth a shot.
She is so desperate it's almost sad.
“Welcome back. Alice, by Lady Catherine’s orders you are to be taken to the Mirror Cave for a private audience,” he informed. “I presume that includes me?” the satori yokai said. The man smiled. “Lady Catherine said she did not have time to wait for either of you, so if one or both of you are not in time, you’ll miss your chance.” “Wait, there’s a time limit!?” said Alice. “I can’t sprint!”
We love Catherine Cramoisi in this household.
he was shorter and so were his legs.
Alice I am begging you.
For the record, it did not work.
I AM GOING TO STRANGLE THE NARRATOR (the narrator is not me or Alice).
Alice suppressed a reflex to glare back at him, continuing to walk through the crystal tunnels. “Essentially, he’s telling me he’s useless and wants to follow me anyway. And he can’t even look pretty while he’s doing it. Wonderful.”
This woman's priorities, once again.
Before she realized, she couldn’t hear the yokai’s footsteps behind her. When she turned to tell him not to match his pace with hers because that was definitely stalker behavior, she found nothing.
I am more amused at the narration than I perhaps should be.
The voice was her own alternate self, meaning she didn’t trust it one bit, but it didn’t seem to want to harm her, bizarre though it was.
This is just so telling. Alice PLEASE.
“And now, to find Catherine.” “No need to look for me.” Alice jumped around, hands up and ready to fight. “WHY do you keep sneaking up on me?” Catherine tilted her head. “I did no such thing. Now then, you wanted to talk to me, yes?”
We love Catherine Cramoisi in this househol-
“Is it about our supervisor?” “Yup.” “You want him gone.” “Absolutely.” “It’s not that I don’t agree with you,” the consort unexpectedly told her. “But politics won’t allow us to do away with him until things are secure, meaning until the end of the war against the SRP, and probably not until after we’ve partitioned Victoria’s land with them.” “Ugh.” “Is that all?” “I guess. I was hoping someone would be able to do something about the creep. Everyone needs their privacy, you know?” “Privacy is a rare privilege for royalty.” Alice groaned. “With each passing day I see more and more downsides to being royalty.” There was a sudden silence. “Alice.” “Yeah?” “You know I can hurt you, right?”
Catherine my beloved… (AND BASICALLY EVERY BETA READER'S BELOVED TOO)
“You know how these things work, I assume.” Alice wound down slightly. “Yes. I’ll owe you a favor. And I better keep my word, or else.”
Haha. Not Rin thinking to herself that if Alice doesn't keep her word this might turn into a fun situation and that's dangerous because "it makes her mask crack" like. Vibrating.
Side note, for chapter 3.5, I've written drowning scenes twice in my lifetime and the second one is far better than this one.
“All according to plan. Fate will bring us back together. Okay, now you’ll be on Fate’s side? Which one is it, rebel against destiny or accept it? May those who accept their fate be granted happiness, and may those who defy their fate be granted glory. Teacher’s words, not mine. I also have no idea if she’s an enemy or an ally. A little bit of both. She wants me to defeat her. And I know I will, eventually. I just hope Lady Catherine manages to keep her attention for long enough. Our queen is a crucial part of the plan, after all. The real game has only just begun. Prepare yourself. That sounds way too fucking ominous. And be prepared to snipe Teacher’s swallows if we see any. Didn’t she say they weren’t hers? The ones with glass eyes aren’t. If you see one with black eyes, no sclera or iris to be seen, shoot to kill. The others are not part of her game.” Everything is part of the game.
Ominous ass. As for why the dialogue is formatted weird, this is how I decided to format two different people in the same body talking to each other (no it's not DID, it's a soul thing). There's another instance but it's two of the same person in the same body so that's also formatted differently.
In chapter 4 we once again get a mention of Gretchen's seeing light, and earlier in chapter 2 she read a letter in braille. Gretchen isn't blind but she can't afford to "see", so she keeps her eyes closed and covered by a blindfold. The seeing light is really just, basically sonar technology?
“If only I had my M82. Firearms and blueprints were literally the only useful things we took from the US, and I had to massacre so many survivors to get us out of that one. With this puny rifle, the shot probably won’t land where I want it to land.”
Gretchen really just insulted the US and lamented her lack of a better gun in one breath (well, thought).
“Zerzurans are like tea bags full of magic.” -Gretchen Rufner, 7043 AU
For context, that means it's the year 7043 "after (the) Unearthing" which is the apocalypse that kinda nearly wiped out humanity.
NOT GRETCHEN LAMENTING THAT SHE MISSED ONE OF HER SHOTS BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T HEAR A BUSTED KNEECAP FROM ONE OF THESE TEENAGERS. Gretchen is questionable at all times and she is especially bad during this part but in her defense the situation is pretty dire and they're kinda at war so.
“H-how could you? You made them believe you would spare them,” Rick managed to squeeze out. “They weren’t even soldiers!” “That’s war. Every child of Zerzura is a soldier. Had I not killed them, I assure you they would’ve screwed us over later or tried to kill us. I was very humane with these two, and if you think I wasn’t, you are both still innocent little children. The world Outside is not sunshine and rainbows, especially not during a war. Now, I wonder…”
She says after holding two civilians at gunpoint, shooting one in the head upon learning he's mute, and shooting his brother dead too after he answers her questions while trying not to sob too loud. After this she also proceeds to kill the goats that were pulling the merchants' cart.
And that is all for today! Man I cannot wait to be done with this so I can work on the fics.
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frecklystars · 3 years
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“If you do not comply,” Starscream warns the girl, “I can do quite a number of things that will make you talk.”
He leans forward, activating the prod and pointing dangerously close to her body. The electric sparks emanating from it are almost as terrifying as his sinister smile - like he’s experienced with torture. Like he craves it.
“Number one,” he purrs, “I will t-“
“Wait! Stop! L-Listen—“ She takes in a shaky breath, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating— “Listen! Listen. Listen. Okay - listen-“
“I am listening,” Starscream snaps impatiently. “What.”
“Okay. Okay. Listen, I don’t do well under - I don’t do - I don’t do torture, okay? I’m gonna - I’m gonna stop you at number one.” She swallows roughly. Her arms ache in protest as she struggles against the chains. “Fuck, I’m not - I’m n-not, I’m - I-I’m absolutely not gonna make it to number two.”
Starscream‘s eyebrows knit against his nasal chevron.
“I’m - I don’t have a high pain tolerance.” The human shakes her head rapidly. “I stub my toe, and that - you - you know what, then that’s it for me, that’s - I’m done for the fucking day.”
“I... see.” The jetformer lowers his weapon, disregarding the fact he doesn’t know what stubbing a toe could possibly mean. Probably something stupid.
He normally never has such an easy time when it comes to interrogation, and was honestly looking forward to hearing her tortured screams, but a commander always keeps his word.
“Organic vermin are utterly pathetic,” he scoffs. He raises his free servo and places a claw under her chin, lifting her head and forcing her to look him in the eye.
It could be just the lighting - she hopes it‘s just the lighting - but she swears she can see bits of blue staining his claws. She might be new to this, but... isn’t that particular shade of blue... the color of robot blood?! 
With his optics running over her form like that, she’s too painfully aware that this enemy could skewer her within seconds. If only Bumblebee were here to save her!
“Keri...” he says slowly, voice dark and guttural, as if tasting the designation for the first time and seeing if the word is a name worth savoring, “is it?”
His voice suits him: dangerous, sharp. Deadly but beautiful, as if one were gently draping a blanket of silk over harsh glasspaper. There’s almost a certain curve to it, especially grasped onto the edges - it lures you in - snaps you like a bite.
“Um - mhm.” She nods. “You’re - you said your name was Star— oh, fuck. Star - Starlight?”
Oh. 
The Seeker’s optics widen. That’s a new one. 
He quickly recovers, replacing his astonished expression with a horrible scowl.
“Scream,” he corrects sharply.
“I’m trying not to!” She whimpers.
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dottiechan · 3 years
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ICEBREAKER Pt. 7
Read on AO3 (link in bio)
Part 1 | Part 2&3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter
Wordcount: 2325
Summary: Bracca is nothing more than a blur. But in the midst of this chaos, there are flashbulb memories, vivid snapshots of moments that will be etched into your mind for the rest of your life.
Warnings: cursing, anxiety, injuries
You're sitting in the corner, mute. Everyone is tired, exhausted beyond belief in the belly of a rusting Republic warship, decommissioned just like you should be. You're all waste, fighting for scraps of individuality in a world that only values witless cooperation. Tech once called the Empire "the very death of critical thinking," and you wonder if he meant it literally. If he meant himself too, and his army of identical brothers, those ticking time bombs with switches sewn inside their heads. If he meant Wrecker grabbing him by the throat before trying to kill you. If he meant Crosshair's blind obedience to an Empire that could never love him back as you do.
Your hand glides over your tender arm, and you wince. You will be bruised, the imprint of Wrecker's hand will bloom purple on your skin, like a strange flower. Your back will be painted blue and black and purple too from where it kissed the ground after he threw you across the med bay. You don't know how many times you will be traumatised before you can find some semblance of peace in this godforsaken Galaxy.
And when you look at Omega - sweet Omega, struggling not to fall asleep, holding Wrecker's hand, hoping the man who tried to kill her a mere hour ago would wake - you somehow manage to feel even worse.
...
It takes time, for them all to undergo surgery. You look at their shaved heads, their confused faces as they look around. They won their own freedom, fought for it too. You want to imagine him here too, in the middle of this quiet victory over the unconscious, silver hair shaved on one side, shaking fingers placing a toothpick between soft lips, uncertain eyes searching for yours amongst his brothers. You want Wrecker to put an arm around those sinewy shoulders only to evoke a scowl on that beloved face.
Wrecker gazes back at you sadly when he notices you staring.
"On your feet, soldier," Hunter extends a hand to you with a small smile on his face. But you know him well enough now, and you see through his façade. You know just how shaken he is, shaken down to his very core. You take his hand and let him help you up. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, don't worry about me."
"You know that's not something I can do."
"I'm fine, I promise. Completely functional. I'm not the one who's just had surgery," you tut gently, taking his bandana from him when he tries to put it back over the bandage on his head. You're as careful as you can be, ignoring the stabbing ache in your arm as you fix Hunter up, gently brushing his short pieces of hair in the front back over the red fabric once you're finished tying a knot. "There. Good as new."
He catches your hands before you could withdraw them, and upon realising that most are distracted by Rex's and Echo's conversation, he holds them to his heart for a little while. His forehead comes to rest against yours gently, but at first you're not sure if he meant to do that, or if he just bowed under the great weight on his shoulders. But his eyes are searching your face now, and his breath ebbs and flows in harmony with yours. You've seen many soldiers do this before, brothers sharing a peaceful moment together before facing death on the battlefield. The Mandalorians call this a Keldabe kiss. But in his mind, Hunter just simply calls it arriving home.
"We'll be okay," you swallow thickly when he pulls back, placing a hand on the side of his face.
"We'll be okay," Hunter echoes, pressing his cheek into your palm, but if there's anything he's learned today, it's that he can never truly be sure of that.
...
"This is it, boys."
Rex almost looks reluctant, as if being around the Bad Batch has rekindled fond memories he's not eager to part with. This used to be his life, being surrounded by his brothers, saving the day. And while he feels satisfied, this victory leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he realises that in the grand scheme of things, he's barely changed anything. One family saved, but countless others lost. Like his own brothers, for instance; his own stupid, stubborn, loyal brothers, buried on a bare rock of a moon. Their loss left a hole in his chest bigger than the crater their crashed ship indented on the planet surface, and saving your squad is like a bandaid over a blaster shot to the heart.
He allows his gaze to linger on Echo for a while, the last man he's known well to survive, the last nail in the coffin of his grief. He looks so different now, and yet for a moment he expects Fives to materialise behind him. Dominos attached at the hip, his very own double trouble, the dual curse that followed him everywhere. He used to grumble about how they behaved all the time. But he loved them, he loved his little brothers with all his heart. And look where that love got them.
Fives is not here, of course. Rex never dared ask where they buried him. He's heard rumours of unmarked clone mass graves, but he was never brave enough to accept that truth. That's why he and Ahsoka buried their own dead with dignity, marking an extra grave along the rest, empty but reserved still.
His gaze finds you then, eventually. The only one who isn't a clone here in this rusting medbay, the sore thumb sticking out, the lost one with sad eyes who's seen too much for a civvie. He saw the way Hunter held onto you just now, how you shared a quiet moment in the corner when you thought no one was watching. He promised himself he would do this for Fives, that he would tell you if he ever saw you again that he talked about you even months after that one night at 79's. That he called you the one that got away, that he jokingly said he was saving himself for after the war when he could ask you to marry him. Fives was always full of shit, and no doubt half of what he said were just jokes, but he knows he cared about you still. It's apparent that you're a remarkable person, easy to grow attached to, but twice as difficult to forget.
He wants to do this for Fives. He wants to tell you, he wants you to know that the man who ultimately saved the ones you love loved you in turn. But you already seem like you've been through enough and he hasn't the heart to put you through this as well.
You catch him looking at you, and you muster a small, tired smile. "Take care, Captain."
"Ma'am."
I'm sorry, Fives, he keeps repeating over and over in his head as he turns to leave.
...
The deck is about to collapse. It is the only way you even have a slight chance of survival, you know that. And yet you feel stuck in this very moment, unable to move, deer in the headlights, shaking from head to toe.
The squad is whole again.
You'd like to believe you wouldn't know what would happen if you approached him, if you tried to pry his helmet off and look into his eyes. You'd like to believe he'd let you, you'd like to believe he would listen to your pleas, that he would stop this madness. Order his troops to stand down. Come home with you.
You'd like to believe. But all you can think about is Wrecker, out of his mind and yet still so terrifyingly present somehow, grabbing Tech by the throat and throwing him against the wall before coming for you.
And you know Crosshair would gun you down without hesitation.
"Crosshair... Please don't do this. We can help you." The plea escapes your lips before you could stop it, however. Crosshair tilts his head towards you, and even though you can't see his gaze, just knowing that his eyes are on you is like being struck by lightning. How long was it since you last saw him? How long was it since he last gazed at you, and you at him? He seems almost as frozen for a moment as you, and you allow yourself to believe he's still in there, raging against the control of the Empire. You don't know what it was that you two shared back on Hoth, but you know it meant something. It had to. And judging by his consideration, and the hesitant way he shuffles a step closer to you, you know he must remember too.
But he moved too quickly for Hunter's liking, and he's by your side, trying to shield you as much as he shields Omega. Whatever moment you and Crosshair just shared is over. You can tell, by the tightening of his shoulders, by his stance turning defensive once more. You got through to the real Crosshair for a second. But the menace - like some demon possessing his body - is back in control once again.
"Crosshair, wake up! You're being controlled by an inhibitor chip." Hunter's reasoning falls on deaf ears now. It is over. You should accept it, but you can't. But at least you're not the only one who can't admit defeat.
"He's telling the truth. The Kaminoans put chips in all the clones. Remember what I told you in the brig?"
After Omega's spoken up, a stretch of silent tension follows. You're all nervous, weapons aimed, caught in a death trap with no way out but down. And yet you're holding on, you're still holding on to that last shred of hope that your words will finally get through to him. That you can finally put down the cross you've been bearing and rest.
"Aim for the kid."
You don't know how many times you can be traumatised before you finally give in. But you make room for one more, and the day is far from being over yet.
...
You're going to be sick, but you know you can't be. You've treated a thousand gruesome injuries before, but somehow a partial blaster burn to the chest will be your final straw, you can already tell. You gingerly lay the bacta patch across the scorched patch skin and flesh as your fingers tremble like a new recruit's. The internal damage was thankfully minimalised by his armour, but this is still going to take some time to heal from.
You don't know how long it will take for you all to heal from leaving Crosshair behind once more. From losing Omega.
When your breathing starts bordering on frantic, Tech nudges you aside and takes over, but you can't leave. You sit on the edge of the cot, and clutch Hunter's hand in your clammy ones. You can't lose anyone else, you can't, you heart wouldn't take it.
When he finally comes around again, the look in his eyes are so hurt you finally give in to the urge to cry.
"I guess I can't hold the mission on Bracca against you anymore," Hunter rasps through his pain, trying to ignore how choked up and panicked the thought of losing Omega makes him.
"No, you really can't," you agree quietly, wiping at your eyes as you try not to let your anxiety get the better of you. Not when you're supposed to be Hunter's comfort, when you're supposed to reassure him.
"This is the only thing I ever want to wake up to," he whispers, a weak hand reaching up, longing touch ghosting along your features. He's dying a little inside every time he fails, swallowing the shards of every heart he breaks as atonement. They're jarring his insides, leaving him breathless every time he moves. And yet he keeps pushing on, even now, even when he feels worse than he's ever felt - all because of you. You're his only remedy in this fucked up world, the only person who still makes him believe there can be a happy ending for you all. He loves his brothers, but they're just as guilty and cynical as he is. He understands why he can't pin all his hopes on a child, but for some reason, he can't make the same exception for you. His voice is quiet, but it's obvious his head is clear when he speaks next.
"Cyare."
A little to the side, Tech finishes checking the medical scans for the last time. Hunter's condition has been stabilised, and for now, all he can do is look into the bounty hunter who took Omega. He casts one last look at you and Hunter, hand in hand, eyes glued to each other's face, and he sighs.
"How's Hunter?"
"He'll live," Tech answers, placing a hand on Echo's shoulder. "We've been through a lot over a rather short period of time. I think they've earned a moment of peace alone though, wouldn't you agree?"
Echo's face rarely reflects the emotions inside him, but now an endless kind of sadness perches itself on his features as he nods and follows Tech to the cockpit.
"They deserve a lot more than that. Hell, we all do."
...
Crosshair would agree with that sentiment now as he's patched up at the medbay of an Imperial flagship, alone aside from the medical droids. His head is killing him, his thoughts are sluggish, but the pain in his chest is not only from his injuries. He keeps remembering you, over and over again, your beautiful face, the way you said his name as if he mattered, as if he still belonged to you. And you left him behind anyways again.
If he heard Tech's and Echo's conversation now, he'd agree. He deserves better too.
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Echo’s Girl, Part I
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Pairing: Echo x f!reader
Description: Becoming clone trooper Echo’s girl
AO3 link here
Link to the optional explicit part coming soon
Rating: teen
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: none
Author’s note: This is more of a set up chapter for reader and Echo’s relationship. I will be posting an optional chapter for 18+ audiences in the next couple of days (please please please only engage if you are over 18 and prepared to read NSFW content). There will be 4 parts and we’ll see Echo next as an ARC Trooper! I hope you enjoy this part – if you do please consider reblogging it to share it with other people.
Part I – Clone Trooper
Your first fieldwork assignment. You were nervous, so kriffing nervous. You knew exactly what you had to do but somehow, being dropped off at the Grand Army of the Republic’s barracks, surrounded by soldiers and weapons and war ships made it all the more terrifying. You weren’t quite sure if you were built to be here. No, you knew you weren’t built to be here. You were a scientist and that’s where you were comfortable, in a lab or in the field conducting research. But with the Republic’s funding your best option was getting transport via the GAR, so here you were. You make your way off the taxi speeder, nervously playing with the straps on your bag as a soldier jogs his way towards you. You gulp. This was getting scarier and scarier by the second. How were you supposed to last on a warship for a week?
“Doctor?” He asks as he steps toward you.
“Uh, not yet but yes,” you say and his brow furrows in confusion, but he holds his hand out to take your bag anyway.
“Captain Rex,” he says with a shy smile, “I’ll take you to meet the rest of the boys. We’ll all be around for the next week until you’ve left us for your mission, so it’ll be good for you to have a few friendly faces.”
You nod and follow along, trailing behind him like a lost puppy, completely and utterly out of your depth but trying hard to stay afloat. He takes you over to a group of soldiers who are milling about, clearly enjoying a few moments of peace.
“Men, I’d like to introduce you to our guest. She’ll be staying with us for the next week until we drop her off for her mission. She’s no soldier so if anyone wants to accompany her, show her around so she can get used to being here…”
One of the soldiers steps forward, white armour with the signature blue decals that match the rest of the men, then his own unique handprint that adorns his chest. He reaches up and takes his helmet off and in that moment your heart stops. Yeah, every single man here looks exactly the same. But there’s something about him. You take a deep breath and smile as all the other men and Rex melt away. You hold out your hand to introduce yourself and he smiles sweetly in return.
“I’m Echo. We’ll load up onto the ship, get your stuff in your room and then once we’re in hyperspace I’ll give you the grand tour.” You follow him, suddenly feeling a little less lost and like you’ve found a little piece of home.
You relax a little more once the ship has lurched into hyperspace. You’re no stranger to space travel but it still makes you feel a little queasy each time. Now you’re comfortably travelling and Echo’s grand tour has started you feel like you can semi settle for the next week at least. If you had to live this life for much longer you don’t think you’d cope, but it’s okay for now. Echo shows you the important spots like medical areas, the canteen, and transports. He even takes the time to show you a few quieter spots where you can get a little peace and quiet if you need it. For a few moments you stand in each spot drinking in the silence and the shades of blue that hyperspace creates, thinking about how peaceful the silence is with Echo. At one point, you tilt your gaze to look up at him and the way the blue falls over his features. He moves his gaze to meet yours and for a moment you stop breathing, worried your little crush was coming on too strong. But he just smiles that sweet, warm smile and gently takes your hand to pull you towards your next destination. He lets go of it as soon as you’re heading the right way, but you feel the lingering sensation of his touch on your palm and will him to hold your hand again.
Kriff, you think to yourself, suddenly disgusted that you weren’t acting like a lost puppy but a love sick one, you’d only been away from normal human contact for a few hours and you were already acting like this?
“That’s pretty much everything. We don’t have much to do during travel time apart from prepping for the next mission and we generally have to stay out of the cafeteria unless it’s our designated time to eat, but I guess I could chat with the service droids and see if you get special exemptions?”
“Yeah, that would be great. I need caf to keep me fuelled while I keep sorting through literature,” you say with a small chuckle as you hold up the data pad.
“So, what’s your research about?” Echo asks as you head back towards the cafeteria.
“I’m monitoring purrgil movements. We know…not a lot about them and now with the war on and more ship movement we need to predict their movements to ensure safety. I’m trying to better understand them, breeding patterns and movements so we can avoid them during ship movements.”
“Oh, so, I guess you’re working to protect the clones in a roundabout way?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve never thought about it that way before. I just think of it that I’m protecting the purrgils too. Most people just think of them as a nuisance but they’re beautiful creatures which have been massively looked down upon. It’s sad, and I hope my work can change people’s opinions.”
You walk into the cafeteria and the white walls are a stark contrast to the grey of the rest of the ship.
“Wait here,” Echo says, motioning to an empty table, “I’ll go and chat to the droid.” Echo jogs off and you can’t help but admire him for a second before turning your attention to your data pad. You flick through your schedule, moving around what work you had planned for when to make your schedule for the next week a little more…hyperspace doable. The soft sound of two plastic mugs clinking off the table pulls your attention away from your work and instead to Echo’s warm smile.
“Droid says you can come in whenever. Even gave us hot cocoa now to seal the deal,” he smiles triumphantly as your eyes light up.
You take the mug in your hands, cradling it as you allow the heat to rise through you, then take a deep sip. It’s the kind of rubbish hot cocoa you had on camping trips when you were younger. It’s good.
“Mmmmmm,” you say between sips, “this is amazing. If I ever need something doing while I’m here, I’m coming to you Echo. Your negotiation skills are supreme.”
He lets out a soft chuckle which fills you with a warmth that the hot cocoa never could, and the two of you launch into easy conversation. You tell Echo more about your research and how you got into it, your life on Coruscant and everything that goes with it. He tells you about life as a clone trooper, growing up on Kamino and his brothers. The time passes fast and your schedule for starting up on work goes through the window but you don’t mind at all.
“Hey, Echo,” another clone trooper says as he jogs up to your table. He’s similar looking to Echo of course, but with a tattoo of the number 5 on his temple and facial hair on his chin. You briefly remember seeing him near Echo at the start of the day, although you can’t remember who Rex introduced him as, and assume the two are close.
“Hey, ner vod,” he quickly introduces his brother as Fives.
“We’re going to the onboard 79s tonight,” Fives turns his gaze to you, “you’re welcome to come, save you from being bored to death by this one all night,” he punches Echo in the process, and Echo glowers back at him.
“Yeah, sounds good. Any excuse to get away from doing work anyway.” Not that you had managed to do more than rearrange your schedule so far, which had been pointless anyway as you had ended up spending all afternoon with Echo instead.
“Okay, well we were going to head down in a couple of hours so I’ll see you then. Echo, we’re going to do some training to kill time. You in?”
Echo looks at you uncertainly.
“It’s fine, I should probably get a little work in and take a shower first anyway.”
“Can you remember where you’re going?”
“Yeah, roughly. I’ll find my way.”
“Okay, well as long as you’re still not wondering around the ship lost I’ll come grab you at 1900.”
You watch Echo go with Fives, a small smile creeping across your lips and a giddy feeling searing through your veins.
You’re on fieldwork, you didn’t exactly plan to bring any nice clothes. You have a couple of pairs of leggings which at least flatter your figure and a couple of cropped vest tops that you usually sleep in. When you pair them together you don’t exactly look party ready, but you decide that you look good enough for whatever an onboard bar is like for clone troopers. You pull your hair out of its braids and put on the very small amount of makeup you packed. You decide, all in all you look good. But the nerves are eating you alive right now. Partly at not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but also the fear that you were maybe misreading Echo and making a fool of yourself that way. You shake your head to clear the negative thoughts, then jump at the knock on your door.
You step out and Echo is waiting for you, playing with his gloves and you hope, for a brief second, that he feels as nervous as you.
“You look amazing,” he says, his voice wobbling slightly. He had to be nervous, had to be.
You smile back, “so, this onboard bar?”
“Oh, it’s not much,” he says with a small laugh, “just a corner that was quiet enough for us to find a new use for it. We thought it’d get shut down, but I guess they decided a little down time was good for us.”
And he’s right. When you arrived at the ‘bar’ it’s not a lot at all. A dark space strung with whatever artificial lights had been found around, upturned boxes and storage containers. The bar itself was only obvious because of the sheer number of troopers milled around it. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, the only female there, and almost as if he can sense it Echo protectively wraps his arm around you. The attention of the gazes pinning you immediately shift and you feel instantly better. Granted, it shouldn’t take a man’s protection to make you feel safe but with Echo it felt too good to deny. He guides you over to the makeshift table where Fives and a few of the other guys from this morning are sat.
“So, how did you manage to put up with this one all day?”
You let out a soft chuckle, “I grew up with 5 sisters, believe me I can put up with a lot.” But you lean back a little and give Echo a soft nudge, resulting in him giving you an affectionate smile. The night goes on and it’s incredibly easy with the boys, especially with Echo guiding you through in moments where you feel unsure. It’s obvious how close they all are, especially Echo and Fives who you now know grew up together. Rex makes a brief appearance although you get the impression that it’s more to keep up appearances and morale than actually wanting to be there. You can’t help but feel that he’s a little preoccupied, although you can’t blame him either.
You’re there for a few hours before you decide to call it a night. After all, you do have work to do at some point and you had spent a whole day away from it. Not wasted, because spending the day with Echo had been fun. But it was still time away from work that you couldn’t afford in the long run.
You turn to Echo, gently squeezing his arm to get his attention.
“You okay?” He asks, the liquid courage clearly showing as he takes your hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles.
“Yeah, I was thinking of heading off soon. I have a bunch of work to catch up on tomorrow so I should probably wake up early.”
“Sure, I’ll walk you back.”
“Oh, it’s fine Echo. You stay here, I can find my way back.”
But he’s clearly made his mind up because he links in fingers in yours as he stands up, so you follow.
“Bye guys, it was nice getting to know you all tonight!” You call out as they say they’re goodbyes (and a few whistles in reaction to your’s and Echo’s entwined fingers).
You walk in peaceful silence back to your room, although you can tell that Echo is gearing up to say something. You stop when you reach you door, gently squeezing Echo’s fingers as an almost goodbye. But instead, he takes your other hand in his so the two of you are facing each other.
“I, uh. I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed spending time with you today. It’s nice to have a break away from the guys sometimes. And, I really like, uh, you. Specifically.” You smile at Echo’s words, his nerves feeling you with the sweetest feeling. Knowing that he clearly won’t make the move himself, you pull your hands away from his and place them on his cheeks, pulling the two of you together and your lips to lock. For a second, he pauses, clearly a little taken back. But then he gently places his hands on your waist pulling you into him and you deepen the kiss, fireworks exploding through your veins with ecstasy. After a few moments you pull away, willing your legs to keep working and not turn to jelly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Echo,” you say before placing a final soft kiss on his cheek and escaping into your room.
♡♡♡♡♡
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r3volutionary-queen · 3 years
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Chapter 31 Sneak Peek
In his arms, Darcy was laughing.
She lay back against his chest, her head slotting perfectly under his chin, and she laughed. It was sunlight to his soul, bright and pure and warm and kind and it softened every jagged edge inside of him. Steve pressed a lingering kiss into her hair and tightened his arms around her middle, making her giggle even more—a happy sound that he could have listened to for the rest of his life.
Below, Bucky sprawled across both of their laps, using their thighs as his personal pillows. Darcy’s fingers were carding through his long hair, nails scraping gently across his scalp until the man was all but putty in her hands. His dark head swiveled up, love-drunk eyes openly watching her before crinkling around the edges, squinting like two happy half-moons. That gray gaze then slid upwards and met Steve’s soft look.
It was like staring into a marbled sky moments before the sun broke through.
“Love you,” Bucky mouthed to him and Steve’s heart swelled and swelled and swelled until it threatened to burst.
In this place there were no shadows, no war, no death. In this place Darcy’s skin was not littered in scars and Bucky’s arm was warm and whole.
In this place Steve did not burn.
He would have been content to spend eternity here, if it weren’t for the tug on his shoulder, soft but insistent.
Steve jolted and inhaled on instinct, lungs gasping for air as he surged back into consciousness. It was not a peaceful float to the surface; it was sudden and jarring, like the leg of a once trusted chair snapping beneath him. Pain was the first thing to register, a raw kind of agony, as if someone or something had pried him open and scrambled all of his insides. Blood trickled down his shredded throat and he swallowed with a grimace.
Another tug and a voice, quietly murmuring—urging.
“Wake up.”
Blue eyes fluttered open; everything was a blur. Icy rain stung his skin like a thousand needles, cold mud seeped into his suit, and thunder cracked through the air, so loud and so deep it rolled over his skin and shook the ground beneath him. A second later, the sky splintered in a dazzling flash of light as white-hot electricity threaded the earth to the clouds.
And hovering over him, silhouetted against that bright flash of light, was a strange face. Strange because they were familiar; strange because they were dead.
Or at least they were supposed to be.
And then it struck him—
The stone.
Steve’s heart lurched in his chest. The world spun and tipped itself out before righting once more. He blinked and blinked again in disbelief, in fear, in hope, in a painful, terrified mixture of all three.
“T…” he started with a sandpaper rasp. “T’Challa?”
The Wakandan king’s mouth curved and brown eyes softened in relief. His dark brows rose and he dipped his chin, nodding once. “On your feet, Captain.”
Stunned, Steve could not move.
“Am I dreaming?”
“This is no dream,” T’Challa assured him softly. He lifted his head and spun on his haunches, looking at something Steve could not see. A light filled the king’s eyes, both kind and fierce. He glanced down at Steve where he lay, beaten and broken, and T’Challa’s words pierced right through his weary heart. “Hope has not deceived you.”
The words sank beneath his skin, cutting into the meat of his heart, and Steve’s eyes misted. There were things he wanted to say, to ask, but the words couldn’t make it through his tightened throat. For a long moment, he could not even breathe. It felt surreal, liminal.
Hope has not deceived you.
It was strange, almost, how hope felt more dangerous, more treacherous, than the very war surrounding him. A fight could destroy his body, but hope? Hope, or rather hope lost, could ruin his soul. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to truly hope and so when it bloomed in the center of his chest now, like a warm pool of sunlight cascading down his limbs and filling him to the brim, he shook under its raw power.
“Are there,” Steve swallowed heavily, his voice thick, “Are there others? How many?”
T’Challa watched him closely and the corners of his eyes fanned out in a warm smile. The Wakandan king shifted on the balls of his feet and held out his hand. “Rise and see for yourself.”
Steve opened his mouth to respond when an animalistic roar ripped through the air like a serrated knife. The blond stiffened, recognizing the Hulk’s bellow of rage instantly. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and before he could stop it, that dangerous, treacherous hope inside of him grew wings and took flight.
It rose up the length of his throat and surged out of his mouth in a single, wet, hysterical sob of a laugh. He clapped his hand over his mouth and his eyes screwed shut.
All around him, the rain continued to fall.
Finally, Steve sniffed and wiped his face. With a grunt, he slapped his hand into the king’s waiting palm and it was the strength of the Black Panther, not his own, that pulled him to his feet. Instantly, his back erupted in a blinding pain and he staggered, groaning, shoulders hunching as his muscles trembled and stretched. Steve shook and panted through chapped lips, trying to push past the all-consuming agony. His vision blurred, static around the edges, and then finally, he lifted his gaze to the battlefield—
And froze.
Over the last few months, Steve had grown accustomed to the feeling of shock. He knew what it tasted like, how it jolted through his veins, paralyzing him, but this shock was not one born out of terror or dread.
The shock that rolled through him now was one of awe.
The battle still raged; the rain had sunk the fires back into the earth and a white-gray smoke clouded the blood-soaked ground. Explosions flung mud in the air, coating the chaos of fighting armies in filth until it was near impossible to tell who was who. But beyond all of that, beyond the looming warships and the waves of Chitauri and the wolf-like monsters of Thanos, was something else entirely.
Amid the debris and the bombed-out craters and the piles of bodies littering the ground vast beyond number and recognition was an army—and not just any army.
It was the Avengers.
His team, his friends, his family; the world’s last hope. All of them, every last one he had watched dissolve into ash just months ago.
They were scattered but they fought like creatures that exhaustion, despair, and even death itself could not subdue. And even beyond that, a great host of Wakandan warriors were charging into the fray with what was left of the Asgardians and the Skrulls.
And for the first time since any of this began, they were pushing Thanos’ army back to the tree line; theywere overwhelming their enemy.
Wonder overtook him, and indescribable joy; it was beautiful—stunning, robbing him of all thought and word, and for a moment, Steve wished he could paint this.
The only thing that was missing—
Steve’s stomach dropped.
His mind splintered into a million pieces upon the realization and fear prickled along his skin like the legs of a thousand spiders. Panicked, Steve spun around wildly, searching the chaos for two familiar shapes.
“What is it? What is wrong?”
Snapping his head up, a wild kind of insanity tugged at the edges of his mind as he held T’Challa’s worried gaze. Because if the stone had knocked himout cold, he could only imagine what it had done to Bucky, let alone Darcy. In fact, he knew all too well what that stone did to her every time she touched it and the memories that flooded his mind had him in a blind terror.
“There’s a woman,” Steve gasped out, choking on the words, his eyes still roving over the vast, simmering field. Raindrops slid down his face, dripped from his nose, his jaw, his chin. “Darcy. I need to find her. I have to find her—she was hurt pretty bad and… She’s—and Bucky—”
A blood-curling scream.
Steve whipped around, heart in his throat. Somewhere to his right there was a high-pitched female scream—a wail, really—and Steve had never heard Darcy make a noise like that before, but he knew instantly that it was her.
His heart told him so.
Steve couldn’t see her, couldn’t see much of anything beyond the flurry of war and the blasts from the enemy’s weapons. He paled and his vision spun as a new and torrential kind of fear seared through every vein in his body.
“Go,” T’Challa urged at his side and Steve snapped his head around, panting and trembling all over. The king clasped his shoulder, tilting his head toward him. “Do what you must. We will meet when this is over, my friend.”
Unable to do anything but nod, Steve mustered up the very last of his strength (all he had left) and turned and ran into the heart of the battle. Even as the abyss of terror threatened to pull him under, Steve felt something inside of him shift, something endless and ancient, and suddenly his spine was carved out of steel. He was going to find her, both her and Bucky, and he was going to get them out of this place—even if it broke his back and heart and left nothing but his bones behind.
He was going to find them both and he was going to bring them home.
(GUYS IT IS HAPPENING. WE ARE LIKE 6K IN ON THIS CHAPTER SO PLEASE EXCUSE IF YOU'VE MESSAGED ME TODAY, I'LL ANSWER LATER BECAUSE THE FLOW CANNOT BE INTERRUPTED KAY THANKS)
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stardust948 · 3 years
Link
~*~ 
“How dare you?! Is an entire army at your beckon call not enough?! Now you hire pirates to your dirty work?!” Katara snarled. “What did His Highness not want to get his fancy warship banged up anymore?!”
“Silence Katara!” Zuko hissed as he glanced at the pirates muttered amongst themselves.
“Oh ho! You didn’t tell your new friends about your royal status?! And yet you feel the need to constantly remind me! So much for manners, eh PRINCE ZUKO OF THE FIRE NATION!!!!”
“QUIET!“
The pirates edged closer with weapons pointed at them. Zuko swore under his breath as he released Katara. The teenagers stood back to back as the pirates surrounded them. Zuko summoned fire daggers in both hands as Katara pulled out her remaining knife.
“This is our lucky day boys.” The captain grinned. “The Fire Prince and the Water Scroll Thief for the price of one.” 
~*~
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Humans are Space Orcs, “The Shatter Protocol”
Lol I think you guys are going to totally hate me for this one. Its exciting tho, so there is that. Please don’t hunt me down in my sleep :)
“Commander on Deck!”
Commander Vir took a seat in the captain’s chair spinning around to face front, “Status report!” He barked hands gripped firmly to the seat arms jaw set.
“Rundi radar systems have detected twenty burg short cruisers and at least a dozen kree orbiting satellites, sir, its the whole fucking armada!”
“Keep yourself under control lieutenant! We’ve had worse.” And the way he said it made the crew almost believe him, “Are those satellites armed.”
There was a pause, “No sir, I don’t detect any weapons, mostly just power banks and mild warp capabilities.” 
Off to his left, Sunny had taken her seat at the weapons station, “All weapons systems online.”
“Order the first and fifth fighter squad to deploy.” He said, “Have them pull around back.” He turned to the communications officer, “Get the GA on the line and get me more ships! I don’t care if i have to sell my soul to the GA, but we need more firepower. We aren’t going to win this if we can’t flank them.”
“Yes sir.” He engaged the radar screen, and deployed the forward cameras even as the front blast shields closed over his line of vision, only to be replaced by a projected image of the same.
“Commander, burg warships moving into position.”
He clenched his teeth into a snarl, “Why won't these bastards just give up already.”
“Sir Kozlov and Ho have arrived, and are maneuvering into position.”
“Good. Get me the Burg command on the line. I want to talk to them.”
“Yes sir.”
He waited there for a moment, hands still resting lightly on the sides of his seat, though he did engage the manual controls with one thumb as he did so resting his feet lightly on the pedals and moving his hands to the control sticks.
A projected image appeared in his vision, and it was big and ugly, with too many legs, a couple of mandibles, and some twitching antennae. Commander Vir wished he could meet the thing in person, simply to spit in the creature’s face.
“Commander.” it hissed, it's sibilant clattering voice making him want to open up his skull and itch at his brain.
“I’m afraid you have e at somewhat of a disadvantage…. I don’t know your name.”
The creature hissed, “We are on equal playing fields, commander.” It placed a little emphasis on the last word.
Commander Vir kept his face neutral, “You and I have never been on equal playing fields.”
“I think we have.”
“Well no, you see because ever conflict humanity has had with the burg, we’ve won. Three times. Some of your peop’e were defeated by army ants, so forgive me if I am skeptical.”
INstead of flying into a fit of rage like he had become accustomed too, this creature simply chittered its mandibles, “That will change soon enough.”
“Don’t suppose I can convince you to surrender?”
“No, I don’t suppose you can.”
Commander Vir tapped his fingers  against the chair seat, “Than I suppose you will die like the rest of your predecessors.”
The burg commander, still calmly, “There are worse things than death, commander.” ANd then the line went dead.
Commander Vir frowned, but was cut off from his thoughts, “Sir, The burg ship is preparing to fire.” “Beginning evasive maneuvers.” At the back of the ship, the rear thrusters pulsed and they shot downwards jolting much of the crew in their seats. They couldn’t feel the projectile pass, as there was no blast radius in space, but the COmmander’s quick maneuver had stopped them from taking a round straight to the nose fo the ship.
“Sunny, fire when ready.”
“Yes sir, predictive engine has been booted.”
“Predictive engine?”
“Sunny flipped up the joystick on her weapons module, “Yes sir, I designed it for times just like this.”
Commander Vir watched nervously as she worked, finger twitching towards the trigger on his joysticks, but she was the weapons expert, it was time to let her work.
Two shots fired one slightly delayed from the other. The first of them aimed for the far right deck of the burg ship. It missed entirely as they maneuvered to the side and straight into the path of the second.
Commander Vir had never seen a hit so solid in his entire life.
He blinked in shock as pieces of debris exploded into space around the burg ship.
“Direct hit, sir.” She said. If she had had time to think, she would have been pleased with herself. The predictive engine she had spoken of earlier, was a piece of engineered software she had designed just for this occasion. It used probability, mathematics and fast calculation to determine the most likely course of action for a ship maneuver in comparison to a fired shot. In this way she could predict her target’s movement to an accuracy of 65% and almost up to 72% if she played her cards right.
Commander Vir tightened his hands on the joysticks, “What do you need me to do, Sunny.”
“You do whatever you need to, commander, and I will match you.”
She has sent off anther careful volley of shots, slowly rotating the guns in pairs of two to give the others time to cool off.
Bright white lights lit up the vast darkness of space as the two groups began firing back and forth at each other. The Celzex ship glowed an almost neon purple for a second before a massive discharge cut across the intervening space at speeds nearly incomprehensible.
A burg ship exploded, almost atomized on the spot.
The burg line broke, and dissolved into chaos breaking left and right. Commander Vir maneuvered his ship to the side, and cut forward, dancing the massive ship like a delicate ballet dancer across the stage of space.
As they cut by, Sunny armed close range ballistic cannons, sending a rapid onslaught of tungsten rods straight through the burg hull depressurizing an entire side of the ship. Captain Vir rolled to the side out of the way of another line of fire.
Outside, the fighters swarmed around his ship keeping burg fighters at bay. At a distance, the fight almost appeared like a swarm of bees around the head of a bear, one lumbering, the the others fast and graceful.
The burg tried to cut around to flank them from the back, but Captain Kozlov and Ho were waiting for them. The two crossed their firing fields, and decimated anyone who was stupid enough to enter. The Rundi ship covered the Celzex ship with it’s shielding, dropping it only on occasion when the Celzex’s weapons had charged back to full power.
Their weapons were slow, but when they hit, they absolutely decimated whatever they touched.
The ship shook as one of the burg fighters brought a line of rapid gunfire down their hull. Commander Vir cursed, knowing he could do nothing against an attack from such a small fighter.
Two more sharp blinks of light in the middle of space, and a Terasaki ship appeared escorted by another Rundi imperial.
Their appearance on the fighting stage was so sudden, the Burg had no time to react.
The Terasaki, as innovative as they were  shot off a projectile towards two burg ships. It missed entirely, or so it seemed unti l there was a bright pulse of blue light, and the two ships jolted suddenly sideways as the absolutely massive magnet pulled them together.
They did not remain their long as the Celzex took the opportunity blasting both ships and the Tesraki magnet into atoms.
However, while their shields had been momentarily down, the burg had fired another volley, and the rundi ship rocked violently to the side. At least six burg ships concentrated their attack on the limping cruiser as its shields flickered on and off. The concentration was too high, and commander Vir maneuvered around and back behind them as a pice of the RUndi shi was blasted off. Bodies were sucked out of the open compartment and into the vastness of space.
He was flanking them now having turned a full 180 from their their original position.
Sunny humed in pleasure.
On board the ship’s most powerful railguns fired in quick succession. Commander vir jolted in his seat as the huge weapons bounced the backwards forcing the rear thrusters to fire in response, keeping them steady.
The first round blasted apart the Burg shield, and the second round cut right into the burg engine bay.
He was almost blinded by the bright light as the ship seemed to atomize right there on the spot as the Burg warp core was perforated, and the half that did not atomize imploded. The sudden destabilization of the warp drive was powerful enough to create a rift in the airspace that immediately warped the back halves of two and the front halves of two burg warships into oblivion.
Debris Pelted their companions mostly warded off by shields, but some scored lucky hits on the ships that had already had their shields damaged.
The Celzex took care of the rest blasting an entire field of burg ships into powder.
That was when Commander Vir sensed something to be very very wrong. He didn’t know what for sure, but a pit had formed in his stomach causing his heart to drop into his pelvis. The battlefield around them was chaotic, the burg having switched sides.
He was in back now, and there seemed to be a lot less burg ships than originally.
But where…? He wasn’t sure what made him turn the ship around, but he did, and when he did he saw the reason for his sinking stomach.
“Commander come in do you read, we are sensing a power anomaly behind you.”
He barely heard the words that came over the coms, as he watched the final satellite drop into position in the ring, and when it did a massive pulse of blue power erupted from around them.
When his vision cleared, what lay before him, caused the pit in his stomach to bore it’s way out of his body, his metaphorical heart sinking onto the floor.
Desperately, he fired all thrusters full forward. 
The massive churning black abyss before them was powerful enough to warp space around it. Rings of light rolled at its edges pulsing around and over like a halo, though the center was of the deepest most malevolent black he had ever seen.
Screaming erupted on the bridge.
His ship jolted, and without his bidding slowly moving forward despite their full thrust backwards.
“FIRE THE WARP CORE NOW!” He screamed his hearing popping out to be replaced only with a ringing.
“FIRING WARP CORE.” One of the front panels of the harbinger broke off and went careening towards the black pit.
The ship’s hull screeched.
There was a sharp pulse, and then a jolt. That rent the air around them.
He almost passed out with the powerful wave of warp energy that blasted over the ship, and then died.
“WARP CORE MALFUNCTIONING!”
INside his heart was hammering, his throat was tight and his eyes stung. He stared at the gaping blackness before them and it’s swirling halo.
Comms lit up, “Commander we can’t get any closer, commander!”
It was at that moment he knew.
Suddenly, very suddenly his heart slowed, his breathing evened out. HIs eyes stopped prickling and despite his skin being cold he did not shake. He was still in the command chair as chaos reigned around him.
He heard himself speak as if from outside his own body, a voice that was calm, and decisive, and cool despite the hint of sadness that touched it. Though he did not shout, the power of his voice silenced the bridge, “Initiate the Shatter protocol.”
Everyone was silent.
“Everyone evacuate to the life pods and sealed decks immediately.” His seatbelt clicked into position, and he took a deep breath.
“But commander.”
“I said evacuate, now.” he did not raise his voice but the tone made it clear he would take no argument.
The crew stood from their seats.
Commander vir reached out and under his seat pressing a button that he had never wanted to press. Purple light blinked on around them.
Initiating shatter protocol.
The bridge crew filed out of the room as commander Vir stared stoically forward.
Please report to a restraint harness on an air locked deck or to the lifepods.
Commander Vir closed his eyes thinking “Conn, are you there?”
A soft voice, “Yes commander, I am here.”
“Can you get my dog-”
“Already done commander, she is safe with me.” 
“Conn.”
“Yes?”
“You know I never mean the things I say to you, right?”
“Yes, commander, I know.” 
The Bridge was almost completely empty now.
Shatter protocol to initiate in three minutes.
A hand on his shoulder.
He looked up, and saw sunny standing over him, her golden eyes wide with horror, “Adam, what are you doing!”
“Someone has to stay behind, Sunny. I have to manually fire them if I want everyone to make it out.”
“Bullshit.”
“Sunny, if you don’t leave right now I swear to god I will hate you for the rest of my life.” He locked eyes with her seeing the confusion and hurt there, “I will hate you because you will have murdered someone I loved.” She stared at him still not comprehending what he had said, but that was ok.
He stood allowing the seatbelt to disengage.
He stood Resting his hands on her upper arms pushing her slowly back towards the door.
When she wouldn’t move fast enough, he hugged her close pushing harder until the door was just behind them.
He turned his head to look up at her.
He leaned up moving onto the tips of his toes to reach sliding his hands onto the cool chest plate of her carapace.
She looked down at him confused, maybe scared.
He leaned up a little further bracing his toes against the steel, and shoved hard. 
Sunny stumbled back pitching to the floor as he raced forward and slammed his fist into the locking button.
The door slammed shut as Sunny leaped to her feet.
Sealing ship decks.
All around the ship powerful airlocked metal plates slid down from all the doors, locking each individual deck into an air right compartment.
He heard the metal snick into place behind the door in front of him.
A captain goes down with his ship
He turned and took his seat back in the captain’s chair back straight chin held high.
He reached down and pressed the button again.
Jettisoning Deck F
Once upon a time, some engineer somewhere had designed a plan for an event like this. Lifeboats and escape pods were ok for small numbers of people, but for large amounts at a short notice, it just wasn't viable. So they had designed it where the decks of the ships themselves were lifeboats.
In an event of an emergency the decs would be sealed off into airtight compartments and then, one by one, jettisoned backwards from the ship using all systems for external power.
OUt in space, the Harbinger broke apart starting from the back forward. Thousands of escape pods and chunks of the ship rocketed backwards all at once fracturing like a pane of glass.
Commander Vir felt the power and lurched slightly forward in his seat. The lights around him dimmed as the command deck was cut from power. As the thrusters vanished, there was nothing to keep him stable and he rocketed forward towards the gaping maw of the black abyss. 
HE rested his head back in his seat watching the hole grow wider before him. 
He thought of his mother, hoping she wouldn’t cry too much, of his father who had never lost a son. He thought of his brothers. He thought of Dr. Krill. He thought about his crew, and he thought about Sunny.
Nothing but blackness in his vision.
In the darkness of the bridge, he whispered one final phrase to ALL of them before the command deck spiraled into blackness and vanished.
I love you
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jackoshadows · 3 years
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The Expanse and GOT Spoilers.
I have been doing The Expanse re-watch to prepare for the best season ever - season 5 - starting on the 16th. And the writing is so good, even for the secondary characters and their relationships. I can’t help but compare it to the garbage writing on the more popular Game of Thrones.
Watching season 3, and the character dynamics between Camina Drummer and Klaes Ashford is what I think Benioff and Weiss wanted between Jon Snow and Sansa Stark in seasons 6 and 7. There is a tug of war for power and leadership between Drummer and Ashford and the same holds true for Jon and Sansa. Scene for scene there are parallels of the conflict between the characters on both shows.
But context matters. Drummer and Ashford actually work because she’s the new, younger leader in charge of the Behemoth and Ashford is the older, more experienced leader who thinks he should lead because of his experience. On the other hand, it does not work at all with Jon and Sansa. In their case, Jon is the older, more experienced and knowledgeable leader and Sansa is the younger sibling trying to make the case that she knows better than him and therefore should be the one making the decisions.
The Expanse actually lays out and explores in detail the conflict between Drummer and Ashford. They spar and argue with witty dialogue and good delivery of lines that makes the case for both of them. Each character knows and is clear about where the other character stands. They know what the other character is trying to do. That makes their scenes exciting and interesting to watch.
Ashford: Camina, you have nothing to worry about from me. I am here to be your first officer and I have no problem with that.
Drummer: You believe you should be in command.
Ashford: Ah, of course I do, but this is not about experience. It's about politics and perception.  Fred has Protomolecule, Dawes has Cortazar, and they both need this ship.  And neither one of them cares if you or I are happy with the arrangement.
Drummer: Ah, finally, some truth.
Ashford: I haven't lied to you...
Drummer: Yet...
Ashford: But my point is that we both have orders to follow, which means we have to work together. For the good of the new Belter state, ke?
We never get a similar scene or confrontation between Jon and Sansa. Sansa hides information about her Vale army from Jon so that she could get the credit of the victory, leading to the needless deaths of thousands. And Jon just shrugs it off with a kiss on the forehead. Imagine if we got a game of thrones in Winterfell between Jon and Sansa - like we got between Tyrion and Cersei in KL? Where both characters know what the other is trying to do and try to outwit each other? But D&D never really committed to what they wanted Sansa to be on the show and their Jon was written as a gullible fool and so we got scenes that made no sense.
Remember when Sansa undermined Jon in front of the other houses and later Arya observes that Sansa was trying to get the Lords on her side rather than Jon’s. Again, the show hesitates to commit to what Sansa is doing. Jon is made out to be the bad guy for requesting that Sansa not undermine him and Arya comes off as being the mean sister for pointing out that Sansa is not supporting her brother.
Meanwhile, on The Expanse, we clearly see what Ashford is doing and so can Drummer.
Sansa wants to punish the children of the traitors. Jon wants to pardon them and give them back their lands. Drummer wants to throw the drug dealers out of the airlock. Ashford disagrees. He asks for a private word with Drummer and orders their audience to step back - he then persuades Drummer to change her mind but it’s clear to the people watching that he made the decision. Both the audience and Drummer can see that Ashford is indeed undermining Drummer here, but he’s more sly about it.
They have several such arguments. Ashford questions Drummer’s decisions within hearing of their men. Ashford wants them to hear his disagreements.
Ashford: Oh, and it's just too bad we don't have our chief engineer to build us some probes.
Drummer: You have something to say?
Ashford: Yeah, I said it. We needed Nagata here, and you let her go.
Drummer: This isn't a slave ship.
Ashford: No, it's a warship. The Belt's first and only.
Drummer: And I'm its captain.
Ashford: Yeah. Yeah, you are.
Drummer: We have a few autonomous farm drones with chemical samplers for soil. We can convert those into probes. A captain must know their ship.  Hmm?
Later one of those men approaches Ashford. He trash talks Drummer to Ashford and insinuates that Ashford should take over.
Diego: Bossmang...
Ashford: Yeah, what's up? What's the problem, Harari?
Diego: I na like da ting Drummer say to you... or how she say it.
Ashford: Uh... a captain can run their ship however they choose to.
Diego: Captain should be you.
Ashford: Tread carefully, good my boy.
Diego: You been bossmang from da time before me or half the Beltalowda on this ship was born.
Ashford: Yeah, that's true. I have. And I've drunk real Earth whiskey out of a UN Admiral's mug and then scuttled her ship. I flew dark past a Martian battle group, and they never even knew I was there. And I've seen friends breathe the vacuum and watched my only child burn. So when I tell you to tread carefully, you would do well to stop talking.
This scene parallels the Northern lords saying that they should have made Sansa queen instead of Jon. Sansa listens to their complaints and then says that Jon is their king and they can only do what he says. We see Arya observing this and later confronts Sansa in a scene where Arya comes off as being unnecessarily harsh and wrong. I am not going back and watching this trash, but if I recall, Arya actually gets angry at Sansa’s fashion choices here! Like why? What does that have to do with anything? What does that have to do with Sansa trying to win favor from the Northern lords while not supporting Jon’s decisions as king? Again, the show never commits to exploring Sansa’s decisions here.
But Drummer knows what Ashford is doing. She’s clever.
Ashford: I understand why you let Nagata go. If I had a chief engineer who didn't want to be here, I wouldn't want them around, either. But she was your friend.
Drummer: She is my friend.
Ashford: No, I always treated my friends harder... harsher, to show the crew I wasn't playing favorites... even if I was.
Drummer: You just can't stop giving me advice, can you?
Ashford: I'm trying to help you.
Drummer: Yet, still you call me out in front of the crew.
Ashford: Yeah, I could've done that better.
Drummer: You did what you meant. You put it in everyone's head. And after I left, I bet you were all praise for me, yeah? How important it is to respect the captain and so on. That way, when the turn come and you take over, they all know it was because you had to. No choice.
Ashford: Oh, we have a problem. And we need to work it out.
Drummer: Or else what?
Oh, how I wish we got this sort of confrontation, conversation, a similar scene between Jon and Sansa after he got back to Winterfell.
And the beautiful thing about Drummer and Ashford is that we can actually see where they are both coming from. They are both looking out for their people, they both want to do right by the belt. The older, more experienced Ashford thinks he should be in charge and knows better than the young whippersnapper Drummer. Smart Drummer is actually capable of being a good leader and can see through what Ashford is trying to do. They end up helping each other. And in the end, Drummer turns out to be right, Ashford acknowledges this and in the next season they work together.
In GOT however, we are just supposed to accept that Sansa is right, despite Jon making the right decisions to tackle the problems facing them. Sansa’s actions are never challenged by anyone. Jon just floats around like a gullible fool and Arya’s real issues with Sansa in season 7 are never again mentioned. And because there is no resolution to the conflicts and drama, in season 8 we get Arya suddenly and inexplicably thinking that Sansa is the smartest ever, Jon continuing to trust the person who lied to him and undermined him and Sansa continues to win despite being wrong about everything.
Drummer and Ashford are secondary characters in The Expanse and yet their character dynamics, the conflict, the resolution is all so well written and played out. Meanwhile, Jon, Sansa, Arya and Bran are all main characters and Littlefinger is a main antagonist and yet that whole story in seasons 6 and 7 was so badly written and nonsensical that it’s absolute trash. Ultimately Benioff and Weiss did not know what they wanted Sansa to be - they wrote her one way, did not want to commit to the character they wrote, and wanted the other characters (and audience) to see her another way.
It’s clear that the writers and showrunners of The Expanse are invested in their characters and good storytelling. And that’s why it’s a far more enjoyable and entertaining show with likeable characters than GOT.
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The Golden Cage Part Four: Final
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This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, kidnapping, imprisonment, and mental abuse. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.
I know I said the story was going to be five parts, but chapters four and five (mostly chapter four tbh) didn’t have enough meat on their bones to stand alone (this is what I get for never outlining folks, surprises, and not the good kind.) so they ended up mashed together into one chapter. Italics are pre-room, non italic sections are post-room.
After you’d first woken up after being shot with lightning, you were grateful to have Zuko by your side, but soon enough his presence began to feel suffocating, and if he couldn’t be there himself, because you know being ruling a country could keep a man busy, he’d have a healer and a guard by your side twenty-four seven. For the first couple of months it made sense, after all, there was only so much Katara’s healing could do, and you’d needed help to do even the most basic of tasks, but now that you didn’t need so much better all of the people doting on you was stifling.
Not to mention you’d spent most of your life free wandering where you please when you pleased, it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to say that palace life with its strict routine was unbearable. So, you’d somehow managed to slip off and find a bag; over the past week, you’d been stuffing it full of essential supplies. Then one night, you’d set out, but one of the servants must have tipped Zuko off because he’d meet you in front of the servants’ door you’d planned on using to slip out without being noticed.
“Your leaving,” Zuko said, his voice catching in his throat ever so slightly. You couldn’t leave him; you were his world, didn’t you know that.
“I’m sorry, Zuko, but I can’t stay here anymore I’ve tried, but I just don’t know how to put down roots, it’s not who I am.” You chocked back the tears threatening to spill out from your eyes, you couldn’t let him see you cry, you didn’t want to break his heart more than necessary. You knew you should have said goodbye, but part of you knew that if you did, he might be able to talk you into staying. You were withering here, losing parts of yourself, because you just weren’t made for a stationary life.
“You can’t, or maybe you don’t want to try.” You were surprised by the amount of venom dripping from Zuko’s lips, you thought it was understandable after all you might as well have just ripped his heart out and stomped on it.
Zuko let you leave after that; at least that’s what you thought, but when you drank from your water skin, the water tasted strangely bitter, although you didn’t have much time to contemplate this before you fell to the ground unconscious.
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The women around your rushed to help you get dressed for what they thought would be the happiest day of your life, but that really just filled you with dread. There was a point in your life where you’d dreamed of marring Zuko, but that had been back when the two of you were still traveling together on a decommissioned fire nation warship. You’d always imagined standing on its metal deck, Lieutenant Jee as acting captain he would officiate your vows, and you’d be surrounded by the members of the ship’s crew that didn’t hate you, and of course, Iroh would be there to serve tea after the wedding.
You’d always dreamed your wedding would be a happy occasion, but now you’d be forced to stand in front of thousands of strangers promising to spend the rest of your life to a man whom you hadn’t loved in years, a man who’d kept you locked away in a room for years, a man who’d burned you because he was jealous. Maybe you could weasel your way out of this, but then you couldn’t just think of yourself, the world was depending on Zuko to keep the peace, it wouldn’t take much for the Fire Nation army to take back the earth kingdom, it was still weak after fighting a losing war for a hundred years. Not to mention The Earth King was as spineless a jellyseal, the man wouldn’t fight his own battles even if he was the last man in his Kingdom.
The avatar was an option, but even if you told Aang there was no way to guarantee he’d believe you, Zuko was his friend, not yours, and because of that, he’d have no reason to believe you over Zuko. Even if you got Zuko magically removed from the throne that would still leave a nation in chaos, Azula couldn’t rule because she’d gone mad, Iroh had already renounced his claim to the throne, and Ozai was locked up in an Earth Kingdom prison somewhere.
A civil war was always going to be one assassination away, at least until Zuko had kids. That was a thought that sent a chill down your spine when you realized whether you wanted to or not; you were going to have to have children with Zuko. Why had the spirits chosen you to endure this fate, wasn’t there some Fire Nation citizen who would be happy to spend the rest of their life serving the Fire Lord and bending to his every whim?
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You woke up in a small Fire Nation prison cell, wearing clothes you definitely hadn’t been when you’d left. You didn’t own any silk, let alone silk this fine. The juxtaposition between the cell and clothes threw you for a loop, why give you beautiful silk robes but leave you in a room that barely had enough space for a grown man to lay down.
It all made some sort of sick sense when you saw Zuko approaching, why hadn’t you seen it before that something was off with him. You’d seen creeps of all kinds on the road, but something about Zuko made you drop your guard, maybe it was because something about him reminded you of a kicked dog. One fact remained Zuko had drugged you and had locked you up in a prison cell, you’d be moved to the room in a few months’ time, and you’d spend years of your life trying to leave it, only to give up and accept your fate.
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The women dressing you gently slid the amber necklace that you hadn’t seen in over five years, over your head. You’d given it to Zuko just before the siege at the north pole, it was your way of making him promise to come back, you’d told him he’d have to return it to you one day and that if he died an lost it out there, you’d never forgive him.
Unfortunately, he’d survived and chosen today as the day to fulfill his promise, though not for long, he’d be getting it back at the ceremony, and your family heirloom would become just another artifact of the royal family.
After you were dressed, it didn’t take long for the wedding to start, and it seemed like it went on for hours, mostly because it did, the Fire Sage wouldn’t quit droning on and on about the sanctity of marriage, and the importance of the vows you and Zuko were about to take. You didn’t know if all fire nation wedding ceremonies were this long of if royal weddings were just long-winded. The latter seemed likely, but then again, who could say.
Now after you were to the part of the ceremony where you’d give your vows, two golden ceremonial blades were brought out along with a fan and three bowls, the largest of which was empty but sat atop a small stand that would allow for a fire to be lit underneath it. The other two contained water and dark volcanic soil; with practiced precision, you and Zuko each took a blade.
The weapon in your hand was heavy and sharp, sharp enough to slit a man’s throat, especially if he wasn’t expecting it, with this fact in mind you turned to Zuko, took a deep breath, said your vows, and pricked your finger. You wanted to kill him, you wanted to kill him more than anything, but a Fire Nation civil war would end badly for the whole word. Zuko had always thought you’d make a good Queen. He didn’t know how right he was. You and Zuko turned once again to face the Fire Sage and allowed a few drops of blood to fall into the water, you’d literally just made a blood vow to spend the rest of your life with Zuko.
“Agni,” the Fire Sage called loudly, invoking the sun spirt his people worshiped. “We ask you to bless this marriage with your radiant light so that it may have the stability of earth and can endure all that comes its way.” The fire sage poured the soil into the large empty bowl.
“The fluidity of water, so that the couple may grow and change together.” Again, the water and the blood it contained were added to the bowl.
“The warmth of fire, so they will never have to endure the cold alone.” This time it wasn’t the Fire Sage that added the element but Zuko. He created a whisper of flame and used it to light a fire beneath the bowl, as was traditional when a Firebender was getting married.
“Lastly, we ask that you may always grant this union fresh air so that it may never grow stale.” The Fire Sage picked up the fan and used it to stoke the fire. The end result of all of that was a boiling mixture of mud that the fire sages would use to grow a fire lily; it was said that if the plant died, then the marriage would end in tragedy. Rumor had it the one representing Zuko’s parents had withered within a day.
Now you were at the end of the traditional Fire Nation wedding, but there was still one more thing left that Zuko had insisted upon. The two of you turned to face each other you gently slid your heirloom necklace over your head. “I give you this as is tradition in my family, it is a symbol of love freely given.” Or it used to be at least, now it had become a symbol of Zuko’s obsession. “From a wife to her husband, and one day a father to his daughter.” You forced a smile and slid it over Zuko’s head. If you cried any tears, it would seem the world mistook them for Joy.
Tags:
Everything
@yanderepeterparker @idkmanicantenglish @prettyafghan
@zoned-out-till-further-notice
Zuko
@phoenixambers​ @svveet-peas​
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clevernewdimension · 3 years
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Polaris Part Fourteen
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Parts: Preview, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen (Coming soon!)
Genre: Action, drama, romance, sci-fi, etc.
Paring: Jongin x Character
Word count: 4.1K
A/N: I have been a mess, but I’ve managed to write this. Thank you all for your support. It’s been hard to write for me, but I’m trying because it’s what y’all deserve after being so wonderful and kind to me. Just... be sure to tell your loved ones that you love them and tell them often. Because you will never know when it will be the last time they hear you say it.
I frown, looking out at the hangers and seeing supplies being loaded up. The feeling in the air has changed drastically. It was once pretty calm and peaceful here on the island. Now, with the war looming, everyone was on edge, myself included. Though, one would assume they would be after almost dying. It’s been four days since the attack on my life. I’ve been in mandatory therapy twice a day since. One more day and I’m allowed back to work. I’m fully healed, the skin just a bit tender.
Sehun sits beside me, cleaning and making sure his upgraded high power pistol is ready to go. I see Yixing out on the beach, a few other special operatives with him as they look over various maps of Tribil. The important buildings, the security and blueprints. It was a very small planet compared to Earth, but the power it held was still massive. Kyungsoo was looking over and making a note of the medical supplies being gathered here, keeping the totals of it all from here and other Syndicate bases close by.
Soon, we’ll all be sent to different large ships, the size of space stations. War ships. The council will likely be on their own ship with a few Fighters there for security. They will be acting as the brains of the battle. Reacting to what is happening, developing strategies to best gain the upper hands and try to keep the deaths on our side as minimal as possible.
“What ship are you and Jongin assigned to,” I ask, looking over.
‘Warship 3H793GT,” He says, looking up at me, “Also known as ‘The Vengeful Valor’.”
I sigh with relief, letting out a breath I was unknowingly holding. “Me too.”
“I know,” Sehun says with a smirk, “I actually requested you before anyone else could. Since Jongin is technically still out on medical leave until…,” He looks at his reader, checking the time, “Five minutes from now, if any other high ranking pilots would have requested you first, and they would have, they would have gotten you.” He smiles, “Besides, I don’t want to hear Jongin complaining about you having to be anyone else's mechanic.”
“Thank you,” I mutter quietly to him, knocking my knee into his.
All he does back is wink.
Minseok looked stressed as he walked by, checking on all the weapons and supplies. I frown, looking down at my new laser pistol and knife. They were placed there for me but I have yet to touch them. The beam of energy went from being white and bright as light to a black color from the power shift. The knife does the same. I could cut through unarmored skin as if it was air. It's that powerful. It has to be, since we’re going to be facing Myrthraians.
I was trained to kill. Grew up seeing death on every street corner. But, in all honesty, violence was never something I wanted to be a part of. I wanted to be better, to try to help people. But this life is better than what would have been the alternative. This one is a life where I would probably have to kill in order to protect myself or others. I’d take that any day. Especially over a life where, before, it was likely the only life I’d ever take would have been my own. If the Syndicate refused me, that was the plan.
Desperation for freedom will do that to a person. Death is freedom from the pain and suffering.
“Tribil will soon be free, Lyra,” Sehun says, looking back up. As if he can see what I’m thinking about. “The people there will no longer be slaves or starved. Everyone can go back to living there peacefully.”
“I wouldn’t be shocked if most of them just want to leave and never go back,” I say, my hands becoming fists.
“Then we will help them with that too,” He says, before I see his eyes glance over my shoulder. “Welcome back to the force.”
Before I could turn and look, I felt someone press a kiss to the top of my head before sitting down on the bench next to me. Jongin sighs. His eyes are red and puffy.
After his first session, he looked like he cried a lot, but I could tell he didn’t want me to mention it, so I didn’t. I just hugged him tightly. Now I place my hand on his knee, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“New weapons,” He asks, looking at Sehun’s and I’s pistols and knives.
“Yours are in your fighter,” Sehun says, “Checked the pistol, rifle and knife myself.”
“Thanks,” Jongin says, his hand moving over mine. It was warm. Comforting me back.
“You and I are going to be part of the front line,” Sehun says, “Twenty fighter pilots on our Warship including us, each with three back up fighters. I already took the liberty of putting my symbol on your back up ones. Not that you’ll need them, really.”
“Our codenames?”
“You and I are Gold One and Gold Two. On our Warship the other duos are called other colors. Silver, Red, Black, Blue, Green, Purple, Bronze, White, and Jade.” Sehun points at me, “Lyra will be handling the repairs for Gold team as well as Jade.”
“I take it Captain Allura is on a different warship,” Jongin mutters, “She’s the second best in all of the Syndicate.”
“You’d be right,” Sehun nods, “It would be stupid to have all of the best Fighter pilots on one warship.”
“Anyone else we know on our ship?”
“Baekhyun is our communications head officer,” I say, “He’ll be the one speaking directly to Junmyeon, who’s the master of communications for the whole army now.”
Jongin nods, “And what about Chanyeol? Yixing? Jongdae?”
“Chanyeol is on the same one as Amelia Allura,” Sehun says, a small pout on his face. “Jongdae is working on getting laws and shit sorted, so he won’t be leaving Mars until we’re about a quarter of the way to Tribil, then he and the Head of Justice will be escorted to HQ. Left early this morning for Mars, actuall.” Sehun’s pout grows, “And Yixing is… well, a ghost. He and the rest of Phoenix team six are likely in the process of getting deep undercover and starting the attack from within.”
“Did they say anything about their plan,” I ask, looking at the suddenly sad pilot before me.
“Nothing that can be repeated in the open like this,” He whines. “Even then it was just… barely anything he told me.”
“He’s a spy. That’s probably a good thing that he and Phoenix Team Six are keeping it close to the chest,” Jongin says, in an attempt to make Sehun feel better.
“This is what I get,” Sehun pouts, “For getting involved with a spy.”
I look away, seeing the large loading ships almost ready. Tomorrow we leave for the Warship. “We have to win,” I say, looking as the cargo ships start to take off.
“We will,” Jongin says, hand patting mine.
A cadet came, pulling Sehun away from us with something about his fighter that was here.
Dread filled me, thinking about Tribil. About Theo Rhys. What happens if we lose. Theo always gets what he wants. Except one time. He wanted the Syndicate to refuse me. But they didn’t and for the first time he had to face what it was like to not have something. Something, because all I was to him was a toy to be used.
“Lyra,” Jongin says as I see how he made me look at him. His eyes looking into mine as his thumbs wipes at my tears.
I turn, moving one leg so that I was straddling the mensch I was sitting on. I reach up, grabbing his hands from the sides of my face. “Jongin, I need you to promise me something.”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for whatever could have hurt me, “Anything,” He says, as he moves to sit like I was, facing me.
“If we are losing… if it’s a lost cause… I need you to make sure I don’t get to Rhys’s hand again,” I say, tears still falling.
I know what I’m asking of him is cruel. I know that it’s wrong. That this would be torture to him. But I can’t go back.
“I don’t understand,” He says, holding my hands tighter. Comforting.
“If he gets me and marks me, I will be his slave again,” I say, sobs starting to shake my body. “He will order m-me to live for him again. He’ll a-abuse me again. Rape me again. I-I can’t go back to that, Jongin. S-so… if there is no other way to save me from him, then I a-ask that you kill me.”
The horror on his face was gut wrenching. The pain. He shakes his head, “I can’t… Lyra, anything else. I can do anything else for you but please…”
“J-Jongin, please,” I mutter, my hands shaking. “Don’t let me go back to t-that. I’d rather my last me-memory of anything related to what he will force me be of you and not h-him. He w-will kill me, who I am, my s-soul. My body would be his puppet for YEARS. I’d rather the man I l-love kill me than have the person I hate most r-ruin me.”
The stare into my eyes was like he was looking directly at me. My self, wholly and completely laid bare emotionally for him to see. He looks down, hands squeezing mine.
“If there is no other way, I will do everything I can to free you from him, Lyra.” He says, before looking up, tears falling from his eyes. “If that means killing you so that deranged asshole can’t hurt you anymore… I promise I will. But it will be the absolute last resort.”
“I’m sorry,” I cry, as he pulled me into his arms.
“I understand,” He mutters, “I get it. If it was my father and going back to what he made me… I understand.”
My face rests on his shoulder as I cry. Horrified I would ask him that but terrified of the reality that could be if we lose.
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Space travel on our little ship to Earth was homely. Small, but it felt cozy in a way. A warship is anything but cozy. I was assigned a bunk in a room with ten other people. Higher ranking officials have their own rooms. I’ve been too busy to even think about going to Jongin’s room. I get up, do everything I need to in the morning, eat, get to work on Fighters and oversee the work to other smaller aircrafts, have lunch, continue my work, have dinner, shower and fall asleep the second my head hits my pillow. The calluses on my hands are getting worse as I don’t have the time to take care of my hands. I’m just thankful there isn’t any blisters.
Even though Jongin and I haven’t seen each other for days, since we started the journey, we’re apparently the hottest topic of gossip. I see some officers look at me, quietly whispering away their rumors or disparaging my appearance. I ignore it, but after a few days, they’ve started to grow bolder with their disapproval of Jongin’s choice.
“Her back is so muscled it looks like a mans,” I hear a woman mutter as she is checking the hangar force doorwars, making sure they’re up to code.
Her friend, who was helping her, nodded, “Who would like someone who had smudges of grease on their face so often, too?”
“She’s somehow conned the most wanted man in the galaxies into da-Oh my god, look!”
I don’t look, focusing on making sure the tire for Jongin’s first backup Fighter was up to code. I feel someone’s hand on my arm as I look, seeing the man himself. He looked tired, but smiled at me as he surveyed the Fighter. The paint job on it is completely done. The name in the common language, Aryl 2. I rolled my eyes, seeing the glittering of golden paint of the names once more. On the side by the thrusters was a deep blue rose, his mother’s favorite I’ve come to learn. It was more plain this time, as he started a new place to count the tallies of ships shot down with this fighter.
“Looks good,” He says, “Not that I’ll need it, really.”
“You will if you decide to do your best suicide mission impression,” I say, shaking my head. “I will lose my shit if you ever do that again.”
I hear a small chuckle from him, “I swear I will not wreck another one of your pride and joys like that ever again.”
“Good, because there is only one backup Fighter stick so after that one would have to use the wheel just like everyone else,” I say, smirking at him.
“Well that’s just awful,” He says with a small smile. He looks at me in the eyes, and it makes my heart race just a moment. He glances at my cheek, “Did I ever tell you how cute you look with grease on your face?”
My face flushes, “Stop. We’re supposed to be professional.”
“You’re a professional at being cute.”
I roll my eyes, “First of all, that was just so cheesy and lame. Second, will you just take the second Fighter out on its test run, won’t you?”
He smiles, untying the pilot suit arms from about his waist and pulling them on. He zips up the dark blue suit, before reaching for his helmet. “You sure you don’t want to come this time?”
“And almost puke again? Pass,” I say, shaking my head. “Besides, it was brand new. No rebuilt anything. Should be fine without me. Besides,” I say, looking back, “I have two more I have to do before Dinner.”
He tosses his helmet in, turning to me. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
I nod, “Sure. I hear officers have better food anyways.”
He lets out a small laugh, “You just can’t say you want to see me, hm?” Before I could reply, his hands gently grabbed my face, pulling it to him as he pressed his lips to mine. It was very passionate for such a quick kiss that it left me red in the face. He smiles, before saying, “Hopefully this will stop people from saying such unflattering things about the woman I love.” He turns, looking at the two gossips who’s mouths are hanging open. Their faces flush with embarrassment before turning back to their work.
“For the record,” He says, muttering into my ear, “I think your muscular back is very sexy.”
I shove him, “Will you just get on with it!”
The laugh was like music to my ears as he started the Fighter. It sounded normal as I covered my eyes, watching it slowly and carefully take off out the hanger. The eyes of the two women look over andI just roll my eyes, before turning to the next fighter.
It was an older version of the model we use now, so it needed a bit more love than the others. One of the metal panels was loose so I had to weld that back to the ship. It was after that when Jongin came back. He lands easy, being sure to reverse the Fighter so that it can take off quick if needed.
When he exits the Fighter, he lands with a thump. I wiped the sweat from my face as I saw Sehun meet him and talk. The Fighter pilots spend a lot of their time in their units making sure to have their battle plans all set. Yesterday was Gold unit’s watch. When they’re on watch they fly around our warship, making sure there are no threats.
“Lang,” I hear a voice call.
I look over and see our Judiciary officer at the door. He was from a planet I wasn’t familiar with. His dark shin was a deep gun metal gray as his freckles looked like he had some glowing opals on his face. He was tall, about six and a half feet. “Come with me,” He says, “We have a few things to sort out.”
“Alright,” I say, before looking back to the other mechanics, “This last Jade team fighter just needs the tire pressure adjusted and it’s engine looked at.”
“Yes Ma’am,” A younger woman says. Fresh recruit.
I turn, quickly washing the grease off my hands and face before following him. He leads me to his office in the officers section of the ship.
“My name is Officer Yvetal Rit and we’re here to discuss what should happen to your assets should something tragic occur to you,” He says, looking at me. He sighs, “I know it’s not what you want to do, but it needs to be done. But first...”
He passes a reader towards me, “Sign here to show you’ve been informed that Major Kim Jongin has, should something happen to him, left all his assets, monetary or physical, to you.”
“What,” I ask, looking at him in the eyes. My heart started to race. To me? Everything? I look at the paper, seeing a very very VERY large sum of money as well as a few of his bigger and more important items listed. My heart was in my throat looking at this.
He smiles, “He did. Please.”
I quickly sign the line on the reader, seeing him look at him, nodding.
“Major,” I mutter, “He didn’t tell me that he was promoted.”
Officer Yvetal chuckles a bit, “So, Lang-”
“Two can play at this game,” I say, looking at him. “All of my shit goes to him if something happens to me.”
I see him smile, “He said you would do that.” I see him type some things into the reader, before passing it to me. “Handprint and signature to confirm you wish to leave everything to Major Kim.”
I press my hand to the screen until I hear the beep of confirmation. Then I quickly sign my name.
“Should you pass away, what would you like to have done to your remains should we be able to collect them?”
“Incinerated and…” I stop, thinking. “My ashes spread at the base we left on Earth.”
He nods, “Alright. Sign and handprint again, please.”
I do that again before he nods, “Well, that’s all set. Thank you for making this easy instead of listing off twenty people to give things to.”
I smile, “Some people are that bad, hm?”
“You wouldn’t believe,” He says, standing and holding out his hand, “Thank you, Miss Lang.”
I shake his hand before leaving the office. I see Sehun standing outside the office, “Your work for the day is done.”
“Hello to you too,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Soon you’ll have to meet the medical officers and give the power over your medical decisions over to someone should you don’t be of sound mind or awake to make them,” He says, looking over at me. “Yixing is my number one, then it’s Jongin… then you.”
My eyes go wide, “Really? Me?”
“I know you’ll choose based on what you think I would want,” He says, nodding. “I already know Jongin is going to be your number one, but they will ask for at least one other in case something happens to them or they’re indisposed.”
“Um… You, I guess…. And Kyungsoo?”
“Fuck,” Sehun mutters, “I should have chosen Kyungsoo.”
I smile, before he takes my arm, “Come on, I’ll help you get to Jongin’s room.”
“When was he going to tell me he’s a Major now,” I say, pouting.
“He doesn’t really care about rank to be fair,” He says, looking at me. Sehun smirks, “You must have been shocked at the money he would leave you, hm?”
“He’s fucking loaded,” I say, shaking my head.
“He’s not one to spend frivolously,” Sehun says. “He’s mostly wanting to get a place on a planet somewhere after he retires. Peaceful, you know?”
“With his battle experience, he could retire early,” I point out.
The more battles you’ve been in, the shorter your time to retirement is. You do risk your life, after all.
“He could retire now,” Sehun says, looking at me, “He has that much experience. I know, because I have the same.”
I laugh, “I still have a few years before I get enough mechanic experience.”
Sehun glances over, “But you also have battle experience. Pilots have twenty-five year contracts that go down with battle experience because battle experience reduces the time quickly. Mechanics have ten year contracts. With your six years experience plus your battle experience from the two battles you’ve taken part in, you’ve probably had a few months after this war. Unless you get into another battle, then you’d be clear too.”
My eyes widen, “Battle experience is that much?”
“For mechanics? Absolutely. It counts double for people who are not Fighter or Bomber pilots, spys, ground fighters, et cetera.”
“Fucking hell,” I say, shaking my head.
Sehun stops in front of a door, knocking. “Tell Jongin I say that our next patrol is tomorrow morning.” He smiles, walking away.
The door opens and I see Jongin. He was still in his flight suit, though tied around his waist like before. He glances at me from the reader in his hand, smiling. “Hi.”
I smirk, before saluting. “Hello, Major Kim.”
He groans, “Who told you.”
“Judicial. When I found out you could potentially leave me a shit ton of money.”
He moves to the side, letting me in. It was a nice room. It had a desk, a private bathroom and, to the left, a full sized bed. Much bigger than my single bunk.
“So you found that out, hm,” He says as I walk by him.
I nod, “Did the same back to you. Not that I have anything really…”
He laughs, “I knew it.”
The dynamic outside the door was all around us as it shut. An air of fear. Terror knowing you’re about to head straight into a battle where many will die. When you and your loved ones can die. I couldn’t get my mind off of these thoughts as Jongin so graciously let me use his shower instead of the community ones those of us of lower ranks would use. How many people with those tattoos are going to be made to fight us? To die because of us? How many of my fellow Tribians are going to make it out of this war alive? Any?
I pulled on one of his t-shirts, looking at myself in the mirror. I look exhausted, and this is from the emotional turmoil alone. The stakes that Yixing and I have in this war are higher than most. If we fail, we will be sentenced to a fate worse than death itself.
Briefly, my mind saw that disgusting man over me. A memory of him using me for his sick needs. I shake my head, try to steady my shaking hands as I looked at myself once more in the mirror.
I turn, leaving the door and I see Jongin on his bed. He was dressed comfortably and he leaned up, his eyes full of worry. It was then when I finally broke. I moved to him, pushing him to lay down. I curled my body to him and just sobbed. All of my tangled maze of emotions finally coming out bit by bit has led to the flood. The stress, the fear, the worry… it all came out as I felt him wrap his arms around me. Soft words muttered to me, but he was letting me have this time. This moment of safety to let it out.
And I do. I cry so long that my head pounds, my throat was sore and my hands were shaking. It was like I was preemptively morning to loss of many of my people, of my friends and allies. I will probably see this as cathartic tomorrow, but for now all I feel is utter fear and almost hopelessness. The only way I could have ever let his out is because of the feeling of safety Jongin gives me. A small part of me feels sorry for doing this to him, but I know he wouldn’t mind.
His arms are the only comfort I have right now. His presence. The warmth of his body next to mine. It was only because of him I even managed to get a restful sleep for the first time since I was attacked on Earth. And for that I will forever feel grateful.
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Magnificent Scoundrels- Grand Tour
I decided to write about Thomas Drake and his crew for this one.  As usual, I do not own any other characters except Drake and his crew.  Enjoy the story.  
“I am not a good person, but I am an honest one.”
-Thomas Drake
“You said you wanted to take a tour of my ship, so, here we are.”  Drake gave an elaborate, formal bow.  “Welcome aboard the Apocalypse.  You all have your engineers with you?”  He looked around the group of, who did, indeed have all their engineers with them.  “Good.  Everyone is invited, and if you are able to replicate anything you see here from memory, then I think it’s yours, fairly won.”  Which cut right into the heart of why everyone had their engineers here.  
Drake turned into the hangar bay, beginning the tour.  “The Apocalypse is an Apricus Industries 745-class light cruiser, heavily modified by us, of course.  Originally named the Summer’s Light, it was renamed something more appropriate for a warship after me and my merry band of maniacs stole it during the Jerrick War.  It was, uh, well, upgraded, as I said before, and now includes reinforced shielding on the hull, better engines, best in class, as a matter of fact, heavy railgun batteries, more point defense batteries, and nuclear launch tubes, of which I am particularly proud of.  Unique amongst most capital sized ships from my home galaxy, it can enter atmosphere, a fact that I have come to appreciate in my line of work.  Now, this,” he waved vaguely at their surroundings, “is the hangar bay.  We only need a couple of shuttles, so for the most part, it’s open and used by the armsmen for training.  Speaking of which,” he nodded in the direction of a group wearing a collection of military-looking uniforms watching two of their number spar, “those are the armsmen.”  Drake gave a sharp whistle, and the armsmen stopped what they were doing.  Three of their number walked over to the Scoundrels, while the rest milled around, apparently taking a break from what they were doing.  
Drake gave the classic back-and-forth gesture that has accompanied introductions since the dawn of time as he called out the three individuals.  “Derrick Saul, commander of 1st Squad.”  The armsman furthest to the left, a deeply sunburn man with hair cut so short he may as well have been bald, gave them a polite nod.  “Jean Garang, commander of 2nd Squad.”  The armsman in the middle, a tall woman with exceptionally dark-hued skin and short cut black hair also gave a nodd.  “And Rilgaldis, commander of 3rd Squad.”  A massive reptilian alien, well over seven feet tall, gave them a salute.  “Scoundrels, Saul, Garang, and Rilgaldis.  Rilgaldis, Garang, and Saul, the Scoundrels.”  Drake gave a moment’s pause.  “Well then, now introductions have been made.  Why don’t you three tell my glorious compatriots exactly where you come from and why you’re galavanting across the galaxy with an unstable mercenary?”  Drake’s joking manner broke the formal and somewhat strained atmosphere.  The Scoundrels relaxed, and Saul grinned.  
“Fine.  I’ll go first.  Born on Europa, joined the 317th Federal Expeditionary Division.  I’m here because, well, you pay more than the Federal Army, Captain.”
“Same thing with me.  Born in Sudan, joined the Army, got put in the 5th Guards.  Drake pays more than the Federation,” said Garang.  
“And you, Rilgaldis?”
“Born into the Dracus Army, left, joined the Imperial Foreign Legion, left, joined you because you pay better,” said Rilgaldis.  
“Yes.  The three leaders of my armsmen.  Matter of fact, it’s a wonder you two,” he indicated Saul and Garang, “get along as well as you do.”  
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” asked Kirk.  Saul and Garang grinned at each other.  
“You see, we are on opposite sides of one of humanity's oldest questions.  Matter of fact, Garang, let’s settle this once and for all.  You all seem like you know what you’re talking about.”  The Scoundrels looked at each other, hesitant about what the question would bring.  “So, here we go, and I know that you’ll all agree with me: 9 milimetre Parabellum or .45 ACP?”  
“What?” replied Vir.  The other Scoundrels seemed to be equally bemused by the question.  
“Are you not a soldier or a weapons enthusiast?  Don’t pick up guns like the rest of us?”
“I was a pilot, now an Admiral.”
“Oh dear me, the flyboys have their heads so high in the clouds they don’t know the answer to life’s greatest mystery.  Any of the rest of you?  No?  Bullets don’t exist where you come from or something?”  Kirk, Shepard, and Cain shook their heads to the negative.
“.50 cal.”  Master Chief added his input.  Saul whistled.  
“Jesus Christ.  Although,” Saul walked up and compared his height to the Chief’s, “if anyone can handle a .50 calibre handgun on the regular, it would be the two meter guy made entirely of muscle.”  
“Wonderful.  Now that we have that out of the way, onwards!” exclaimed Drake.  The rest of the Scoundrels followed, threading their way out of the hangar and through the winding grey passages of the starship.  Most were neat, clean, and paneled with easily cleanable grey metal, although one particular passageway they crossed was under repair, the panelling ripped away to expose a myriad of interconnecting pipes and wires.  A mixed group of aliens and humans, all wearing grey jumpsuits, were hard at work, fiddling with various tangles of sparking wires.  A short woman jumped from atop a ladder where she had been perched, examining the ceiling, and offered Drake a vague salute.  
“We’re almost done, Captain.  Wiring in this sector should be back up in no time.”  She seemed to notice the group following him for the first time, and gave them a cheery wave.  “Tor Herald.  In charge of...well...nothing in particular.  We,” this was accompanied by a wave encompassing the various workers, “are unofficially known throughout the ship as the ne’re-doers.  Unspecialized specialists, jacks of all trades, masters of none, we’re the crew that keeps the Apocalypse running.  This ain’t a military vessel, so we’re just on as regular crew members.  Nothing to do with most of the money and explosions that seem to follow the Captain around.”  One of the wires in the background started to spark alarmingly.  “Ah, shit.  Love to talk, got to fix this.”  She ran to the problem, an odd-shaped tool in hand.  
“Best keep going, then,” said Drake.  He gave the group a ‘follow me’ motion, and led them deeper through the halls.  “I get crew members from all over the place.  Most of the armsmen and specialists are ex-military, but the crew...I have from all over the place.  Which I said before.  Don’t really know how else to put it.  Got crew members from Earth, Vorketh, Aequalitas, Narcan, Delstrovic, and everywhere in between.  Now,” he turned and gestured to a section of more pleasant looking and open hallways, “as your esteemed colleague Jack Cooper can attest, these are the crew quarters.  They are located throughout the ship, so vital personnel can sleep next to their stations, but the bulk of them are in this area.”  He led them past the crew quarters to a pair of large sliding glass doors.  “And this is what we call the weapons room.  All our personal weapons are created, reparied, and tested here.”  It was a brightly lit room covered in stark white plastic, but what drew everyone’s attention were it’s two occupants, who, although fiddling with various bits and pieces, seemed to be in the middle of a fierce argument.  
“You see, the problem with your theory is, at the very heart of the matter, you’ve got it wrong.  The purpose of a government is to help its people by any means it finds necessary,” said a short, lean, black-haired man in the midst of inserting a new power core into a plasma gun.  
“No, the purpose of a government is to protect its people’s rights and protect them from foriegn invasion.  Otherwise, it should leave them alone,” replied a muscular, brown-haired man of medium height as he tightened the bolts on a massive machine gun.  
“Ah, but the thing is, the government can help people.  And at the basic level, why would you not help people?  You’re a Christian, and it is at the core of your philosophy to help others,” countered the black-haired man.    
“Individually.  It is our duty to individually help other people.  You’re a student of history, and you know what happens.  If the government helps people in the way you’re suggesting, then it gains control over them, and thus should it turn bad, the common people are helpless.”  The Scoundrels filed into the room behind Drake as the two argued, apparently oblivious to their presence.  
“The core problem with you is that you’re just an ignorant, uneducated farm boy who’s clinging to a dying philosophy,” sneered the black-haired man.  
“And you are a stuck up city student who has absolutely no idea how the real world works,” shot back the brown-haired man with a vengeance.  
“You’re a stupid moron who follows people who will plunge the world into despotism.”  At this, the brown-haired man threw down his wrench and cracked his knuckles.  
“I’d be very, very, careful if I were you,” he warned.  The tension in the air was almost like a physical being.  Several of the Scoundrels standing behind Drake tugged on their collars as if to escape from an oppressive heat.  Kirk stepped forward as if to mediate, but Drake held out a hand to forestall him.  
“Or what?  What are you going to do?” replied the black haired man snidely.
“This.”  And before anyone could react, the brown haired man stepped forward, wrapped his arms around the shorter man, and pulled him close into a passionate kiss.  They broke apart, and upon seeing the shocked faces of their various watchers, both started howling with laughter.  
“Oh, you should have seen your faces,” said the taller of the pair in between wheezes.  The other man was clutching his midsection and had tears streaming down his face.  He made some sort of strangled gasping noise and grabbed the edge of a counter for support.  
“We got ‘em!”  He broke down into hysterics again.  “We got you!”  Drake merely rolled his eyes.  
“Everyone, meet Mark,” he nodded towards the brown haired man, “and Oliver,” this was accompanied by a wave to the black haired man, “Danis-Holden, two of my three weapons specialists.”  The two, still trying not to laugh, stood up straighter and nodded as they were introduced.  Noting the still bemused faces of the Scoundrels, Drake sighed.  “So, you guys want to tell them who you are, where you’re from, why you’re with me and what was going on here?”  
“Sure!” replied Mark cheerfully.  “So, I was born on Enlalda, a colony world on the edge of Federal Space.  It’s an agrarian planet, and most people there moved from the center of Federal space because of religious persecution.  Like ninety-ish percent of the population are old school Evangelical Christian conservatives.  I was born and raised on a farm; grew up as a...well, old school Evangelical Christian conservative.  Always liked to tinker with things, got really good at repairing vehicles and the various guns you’ll find all farmers have on colony worlds.  But, I always thought there was more to life than just farming.  I wanted adventure.  I wanted to do something with my life.  So, one day a mercenary starship shows up,” he paused his narrative for a moment and looked queringly at Drake, “wasn’t that the Helidon job?”  Drake rubbed his forehead.
“Oh.  Yeah, it was.  Now that was a weird operation.  But I digress.  Please continue.”
“Yep.  So, as I was saying, the Captain here showed up near where I was.  I heard he was looking for a weapons specialist, and I had some experience in that area, so I decided to offer my services, and you accepted, and I joined the crew.  And that’s where I met this idiot.”  He gestured at Oliver.
“Damn straight.  But before we get into that, I have to tell you my story,” replied Oliver.  “I was born on Tyvander.  Metropolitan planet near the center of Federal space.  I grew up in a middle class family near one of the bigger cities, Menvander.  Like a lot of people, I went to college there: majored in political science, minored in specialized engineering.  Unlike some planets, Tyvander isn't super rich or famous, and there is no specialized educational infrastructure there, so if you want to go to college, you pay for it.  As it turns out, being a political science major does not pay the bills, so when the Apocalypse showed up looking for a weapon’s specialist, which I was qualified for because of my technical skills and engineering expertise.  So I joined up, and my debts and old, boring life didn’t follow.  The University of Menvander is not going to hunt you down if you declare bankruptcy and go galavanting across the galaxy with a group of mercenaries,” he finished.
“I’ll pick it up from here,” said Mark.  “How shall I put this…” he stopped to consider for a moment.  “Oliver was already aboard as a weapons specialist when I got here.  We worked together, got to know each other, and, as it turns out, the phrase ‘opposites attract’ is a very true one.  I always had the feeling that I was, well...gay, but, considering where I grew up, I never told anyone.  Didn’t really bother me.  I was perfectly fine doing what I was doing, and never saw anyone who peaked my interest.  ‘Till I met him, of course.”
“I’ve always been a hardcore liberal, been gay, and known I was gay.  Got here, met him, got married,” said Oliver.
“Wait, how did that work?” interrupted Shepard.  “You guys are all mercenaries who don’t really have legal residence anywhere, so…”
“Ah, yes.  We had a ceremony on the ship.  Was one hell of a party, actually,” replied Drake.  “Legally though…” he pursed his lips in thought.  “We’re all registered as Guild citizens for legal and infiltration purposes, so that might count...but for the most part, no legal or religious ceremony.  Doesn’t really matter though, all things considered,” he said with a shrug.
“Yep.  So now we spend all day repairing and creating weapons while bickering about politics,” interjected Oliver.  “It’s fun, actually.  Still don’t know why you support that outdated philosophy and religion when it doesn’t allow for homosexuality.  Which, you are.”
“Just because one part of a philosophy is wrong, doesn’t mean all parts of it are wrong.  Plus, you’re a hardcore liberal who supports the right to bear arms.  Like, all forms of weapons,” replied Mark.
“Eh, good point.  Goes with the job, I guess.”  They grinned at each other.
“Deviant freaks?
“Deviant freaks!”
“Goddamn right?”
“Goddamn right!”  They gave each other high fives then went back to their work.  Drake sighed.  
“Okay.  Let’s continue.”  They passed through the weapons room and into more of the winding grey hallways.  Drake spoke up as he walked.  “I should have probably told you, but everyone on this ship, myself included, is kind of nuts.  You see, being a mercenary means you kill people for money.  It does not attract the most...uh...stable of individuals.  Stable people stay near where they were born and go to college, or to some other form of school, or join the military.  Stable people do not go running around the galaxy and get into all sorts of weird things with me.”  He turned back to the Scoundrels and suddenly grinned.  “And by that logic, none of you are stable!  Welcome to the club!”  He turned another corner and walked into an enclosed room covered with constricting panels of all sorts of strange dials, knobs, and buttons.  The area was lit by yellow bulbs enclosed in metal cages, and the floor itself was made of metal grating, allowing one to see a series of tunnels underneath it.  The entire room was pervaded by a low, incessant humming noise.  “Now, this is the engine room.  It’s a lot bigger than it looks, but we need all the panels to keep the reactor functional, so it seems rather enclosed.  The engineers should be somewhere around here.”  He sighed again and gave a whistle.  “Oi!  Where are all of you guys?”  Without warning, a grey-jumpsuited woman slid from a small rectangular access hatch beneath one of the larger panels.  
“Right here, sir!  Fixing the 5130’s.”  She had a round, cheerful face framed with wispy brown hair.  She grinned up at the Scoundrels.  “Well, well, well.  Looks like we have visitors, everyone!”
“Pleasure to meet you,” said a muffled, echoey voice that seemed to emanate from the ceiling.  “I would come down to introduce myself, but I’m a little busy at the moment.”
“Visiters?”  A blond haired man poked his head from behind another panel.  “Pleasure to meet you.  Engineer First Class Boweman, at your service.”
“Engineer Baily,” said the woman, who had at this point gone back into the hatch.
“Engineer Khatri,” came the muffled voice.  
“K’rik Vhle’krik,” said someone else.  A large, brown insectoid alien turned the corner.  It looked like a cross between a centipede and a lobster, and stood on six hind legs, with eight more waving in the air in front of it.  Its back was protected by a large brown exoskeleton, and its eyes were mounted on two stalks on its head.  Cain tensed, his hand going to his sword.  Drake noticed the movement, but said nothing of it and instead made introductions.  
“Scoundrels, my engineering crew.  Engineering crew, the Scoundrels.”  He turned and addressed the ceiling.  “Are you busy at the moment?”
“A bit,” the alien replied in an odd, unnaturally exaggerated American accent.  “We’re trying to reroute the cooling systems of the 5130’s.”  
“Well then, I shall leave you to it,” said Drake in response.  “Moving on.”  The group walked through the engine room and through another hallway beyond.  “I would introduce everyone, but the cooling systems are very important in making sure everything goes un-exploded.”  
They passed into a large room covered with science equipment and what looked like the shell of a large bomb sitting in the middle of the room.  A woman with frazzled brown hair, wearing a welder’s face mask and a leather apron and gloves was standing over a strange device, pouring a red liquid into a stainless steel beaker.  She finished what she was doing, flipped up the mask and smiled at the newcomers.  
“Jennifer Muelka.  Ordnance and explosives expert.”  
“The remaining third of my weapons specialists,” interjected Drake.  “Brilliant at all forms of making things go boom.  A little too brilliant sometimes.”  She smiled sheepishly.  
“I do try my best to be careful.”
“So, I’m interested.  Why are you here?” asked Shepard.
“Oh that’s easy,” she replied with a laugh.  “No one else will let me do what I do here.  I create all sorts of nasty things.  Plasma, napalm...nukes, on occasion.”
“You...you, a mercenary, have nukes on this ship?” asked Vir.
“Yes.  No one’s complained, because if I do use them, I use them correctly.  I am very proud to say that the number of innocent civilians we have killed with nuclear weapons remains zero.”  
“That’s...kinda reassuring?” 
“Hey, if you’re hiring me, you get the best of the best,” said Drake.  Leaving Muelka to her work, they moved on.  THey walked through one long, spacious, and brightly-lit hallway before they reached a gleaming set of double doors.  “Now this is the bridge.  It’s located at the center of the ship to prevent anyone from targeting and destroying it.”  The doors slid open, revealing a large, spacious room lined with all sorts of computers.  The area seemed to be further divided into subsections, each with a semi-circular area accompanied with a chair.  Large windows adorned the entire length of the bridge, and upon noticing this, Kirk frowned.  
“You said we were at the center of the ship.  So what are those ‘windows’?”
“Computer screens, showing the space surrounding the ship.  Wouldn’t be a proper bridge if you couldn’t see outside, would it?”
“Fair enough, I guess.”
“Now then.”  Drake rubbed his hands together.  “I would like to introduce you to the two most important people on the ship.  Sarah Ordelphine and Eric Richter.”  He gestured to a lithe woman of medium height with short cut black hair and a man wearing a grey jumpsuit.  He too was of medium height, and his hair was brown, straight and cut short to the scalp.  A large scar ran across his forehead, the relic of some forgotten fight.  They both nodded curtly at the Scoundrels.  “Ordelphine is my chief navigator and pilots the ship, and Richter is my second in command.  So, why did you guys join with me?”
“I was and am the best capital ship pilot in the galaxy.  The Federal Navy and all of the corporations I was with before didn’t recognize that.  You did and still do, Captain,” replied Ordelphine.
“Damn right.  You’d think we were in a fighter, with some of the maneuvers you can do.  And you, Richter?”
“I didn’t have anything to do at the time.  Joined you.  Never had a reason to look back.”
“Fair enough.”  Drake spun around the room with a theatrical gesture.  “And so, the grand tour of the Apocalypse.  Met some new and interesting people.  I hope you enjoyed it.”
Hope you liked it.  The scene with Mark and Oliver might have been a little awkward or weird, but I am firmly of the opinion that most people are trying their best, and you can still like, love, or get along with them if you disagree politically.  If you have any comments, criticisms, questions, or requests, feel free to contact me.  And remember to sit back and enjoy your day!
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wakaoujisenhime · 4 years
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Mighty waves - Daigoro x reader
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Synopsis: A clairvoyant predicts your kingdom's ruin, and no matter how ridiculous this claim sounds, your position forces you to take it seriously.
One day disaster struck as a fleet of warships takes course towards your empire. Your situation seems hopeless at first, but then one of your messengers reports how a particular individual requests an audience with you. Overcome by despair and ready to hoist the white flag of defeat, you accept, but the man you come across appears to be someone entirely different ...
tags/warnings: Daigoro x reader ✅  smut (18+) ✅  royalty x pirate AU ✅  oral sex ✅  quirkplay/quirk usage ✅  slight dubcon ✅  
A/N: This fic is based on a prompt a server bot-generated for me while I was contemplating what kind of fantasy AU would be suitable for this hunk of a man whom I love so much. Choosing him specifically meant that I'd have to include some minor manga spoilers...hope you don't mind... All in all, I have to say that I'm a little disappointed with how this turned out, but maybe some of you guys will still enjoy it even if it’s just a little bit! (〃..)
This piece is also my very first contribution to a bnharem collab, so I really hope you'll enjoy it, and please make sure to check the other authors' unique works out! *\(>‿<)/*
→ collab masterlist 
━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ 
Being the queen of an entire empire wasn't always an easy task, thanks to the lot of expectations and responsibilities resting on your shoulders, and to top it all off, you had to always remain calm and polite, no matter what or who you were confronted with.
Back when you first got appointed as queen, there was this elderly woman who requested an audience, under the pretense that she had some alarming news for you. Wishing for nothing but the best for your people, you granted her request.
Two years from now on, the kingdom will meet its end by the hand of soldiers from the sea...
This was the future's outlook, according to the self-proclaimed oracle of fate. Regardless of your personal opinion, you had to keep on smiling and politely accept her 'great words of wisdom' but did you really believe her?
No matter your conclusion, here you were now gripping your throne chair's arms to such an extent that your courtiers were starting to consider the possibility of your knuckles piercing through your skin, and it frightened them even more than they already were.
One of your messengers just brought you the news of an incoming fleet of enemy soldiers, who were ready to battle you and your men so that their ruler's plan of expanding his own kingdom could succeed.
Since you were repeatedly asked and pleaded to give your crown up and just let your home be annihilated, it didn't surprise you that they'd resort to war next after the countless rejections you wrote and mailed them. No, the most surprising and unexpected thing for you was their numbers. You knew that their kingdom was just a thousand men more than yours, so why did the messenger report a count of 20 enormous ships, all loaded with soldiers, heading straight for the small patch of land you called a 'kingdom'?
The fear that the moment they set foot on your land, the outcome would be nothing more than a brutal and pretty much one-sided bloodshed overcame you. 
You were lost, hopeless, had neither someone to turn to and ask for help nor the ability and resources to help yourself.
What am I going to do now?
After asking yourself this one particular question multiple times, the only conclusion you managed to draw from it was to admit defeat to protect your citizens' lives.
Your decision was greeted with some resistance at first, but after your courtiers noticed just how anxious you actually were, they shut up, and heavy heartedly accepted their fate.
——
"Your highness...someone just set sail on land and demands to have a word with you." informed you one of your messengers, a hint of fear accompanying this dreaded piece of information.
You held your breath for a second and let your eyes wander around the throne room, noticing nothing but despair twisted faces. Their expressions pained you enough as is, but the presumption that you were about to meet the general of the entire crew only made you realize just how low of a blow the next words you'd utter be.
"...bring this person to me."
With each passing minute, your body continuously tensed up, and the fact that you didn't know who you were about to meet didn't make your situation any better.
Soon though, you began hearing the faint sound of very heavy steps, making you wonder just what kind of individual you were about to encounter.
The heavy throne room doors were opened, and a muscular man stepped through them. His walk was more confident than that of your advisors or even your own. With every step he took, his frame got bigger and broader than it was the first time you looked at him, and you couldn't help but retract ever so slightly in your seat.
"Well, hello there, your highness, it's a pleasure to finally meet you!"
Even with these few words, his deep and rumbling voice managed to break through your perfect façade of a 'noblewoman'.
This was the first time in your entire life a man managed to leave such an impression on you that every word you planned on saying failed you.
While you were in this small trance of yours, both of you used the opportunity to eye the other.
While you still eyed his impressive physique and tried to figure out why his playful yet serious gaze made him seem attractive to you, he did the same. The man standing before you was more of a warrior than any of your soldiers, or at least that's what the countless scars on his body told you, and there was no room for doubt in your mind that he was the type of guy who'd always get what he wants, no matter the cost.
"Have you come here to claim what you've wanted all these years?" you asked with the firmest voice you could muster. Much to your surprise, the man before you seemed quite confused for a second, but after a short, while he had recovered, and a bright grin replaced his former poker face.
"Oh, there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding between us." he paused for a second and spread his arms as if he was about to embrace someone. "You see… I'm not a part of that small army that was headed towards your kingdom."
Small army…? And he's not a part of it?
It was now his turn to explain what he meant, so he smiled and began walking up and down the small space in front of you.
"Well milady, I am the captain of a small crew which consists of nothing but pirates. All we wanted was to visit your kingdom, which has been the only one up until now to not fight with us, and it just so happens that the fleet which was headed your way, posed some difficulties...so I chose to eliminate them."
The last part of his sentence made you shiver, and even though he grinned from one ear to the other, you just knew that he was absolutely serious.
Your relationship with the pirates was genuinely peaceful, cause unlike your predecessors, you were more focused on building a more comfortable and accepting society than on gaining riches from the bandits of the sea. But you weren't stupid; you knew that this self-proclaimed captain of a pirate crew had done everything with some kind of goal in mind, so you decided to show him that you weren't about to back down from whatever request he was about to propose, so you stood up from your throne and headed right for him.
Much to your surprise, he was polite enough to actually stop his little walk and stand still like a soldier while his eyes never left your gracefully moving form. You thought that he was tall before, but now that the two of you faced each other, you couldn't help but direct your eyes straight toward the ceiling; that's how enormous this man's height was.
"Now that you've gotten rid of them for us...what is it that you'd like to receive as compensation?"
If he had eyebrows, then you would've seen him raising them ever so slightly. He then did something that no one has ever dared to do, namely, take your hand in his own massive one. That small gesture put your guards on the alarm, and within just a couple of seconds, their hands were on their swords' handles. If you hadn't stopped them, then they might have been the ones that needed saving…
——
"Your highness...are you sure about this?"
"We don't know what he and his comrades might come up with, so let us at least send someone with you! Even if it's jus-"
"Gentleman, please calm yourselves down. He isn't some kind of barbarian...all he did was invite me to dinner at his ship so that we can talk about our individual plans. There's really no need for you to worry this much."
While their concerned gazes rested on your back, you slowly headed back to your room in order to prepare for this evening's rendezvous...
——
When you arrived at his ship, the first thing he did was compliment your choice in garments, saying just how well this black dress fitted you and successfully managed to emphasize your body's most charming points. He then helped you up on deck and hooked your arm around his own as he gave you a tour of his wooden home, all the while the man cheerfully shared pieces of memories with you. It didn't take you long to realize that he was indeed different than any other man you've met before.
The way he carried himself, the carefree and bright grin that adorned his lips almost the entire time, and his adventurous character made him stand out the most from all the other countless interesting and peculiar people you've met up until now.
"Well, milady, it seems like our tour is slowly coming to an end."
With slightly wide and surprised eyes, you began glancing around, it seemed to him as if you couldn't believe it and felt the need to confirm it for yourself, but in Truth, all you were looking for was another room so that the two of you could spend more time by each other's sides.
In that short period, he had managed to awake so much curiosity in you with merely his own recollections of his daily life. It was no secret that a ruler like you wasn't really authorized to embark on random adventures; your kingdom was and had to be your only concern, until the day your successor was fit for the throne. Up until now, you never questioned or doubted these 'facts.' Still, when you heard of the many rebellious situations the bulky man next to you had gotten himself into, your inner adventurer couldn't help but try to break free. And that's when a particular door caught your eye.
"Sir, I think there is still some exploring left to do" you said and discreetly pointed to the room that embodied your hope to stay here longer.
After a short while of silence, he simply took course to the room you wished to see, opened the door, and let you go in first.
Turns out that this was his own cabin.
With flushed cheeks, you took a look around, admiring just how minimalistic he had arranged it to be. The only furnishings he had were his bed and one of those massive wooden desks your ministers owned.
While you were looking around with slightly flushed cheeks, the pirate beside you began strolling around you in rather big circles.
"Don't you think that an introduction should usually come before sharing a bed?" he asked with a smug grin, enjoying just how red you'd gotten as realization hit you. Before you could defend yourself, he closed the distance between the two of you to such an extent that you could literally feel him breathing down your neck every time he walked behind you.
"Truth be told...I don't really mind your way of thinking. If anything...I like it."
Just as you were about to turn around in order to meet his gaze, you felt something like a rope wrap itself around your body, completely stilling your movements.
"Oh no, my dear queen...I wouldn't struggle if I were you."
Despite his warning, you decided to take your chance and wiggle out of whatever had wrapped itself around you like a snake. Unfortunately for you, the more you kept on fighting against it, the tighter it grew, so you had to stop before it squeezed you to death.
"You're quite the rebel, aren't you?" he chuckled darkly.
The man was now standing right before you, his eyes darker than the night sky, but there was also something else hidden beneath that darkness...a certain glint you couldn't quite characterize.
He placed one of his big hands on your shoulder while the other gently caressed your cheek.
"Since we pretty much skipped a proper name exchange, let me catch up on that."
"W-Why now all of a sudden?" you hissed, expecting to earn yourself some kind of annoyed reaction, but what you earned was another one of his grins instead.
"Trust me... you'll need it."
After he said those words, he kissed your lips and placed both of his massive hands at the collar of your dress. The moment he found the buttons, which were hidden beneath a thin layer of fabric, he began undoing them one by one, slowly but surely exposing your upper body to the mild temperature of his room.
His lips began trailing down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of small marks behind. You were so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation that you hadn't noticed how his hands had begun to slowly expose your lower body as well, and when you finally realized it, it was too late.
"You do know that it was a pretty bold move of yours to come to this meeting on your own, right? It might've been better for you to at least bring a guard or two with you."
That statement made you mad, and that only helped your body to increase the amount of adrenaline that was circulating inside of you. Luckily the black rope-like mass, which bound you, had released your legs a short while ago so that the bald man could slide your dress' skirt down. You used that opportunity and attempted to kick his abdomen, but his reflexes were quicker.
The man's hand caught your calf and placed it on top of his shoulder, while his other hand supported your back and stopped you from falling back.
Now that his face was literally facing your clothed sex, you were far more embarrassed than before, and knowing that your plan had no outlook of success, crushed any remaining hope of escape.
"Mm...I should've known that you were an impatient person, but who would've thought that you would be so desperate."
With each word he uttered, his breath teased your slightly twitching core, and thanks to the thin light pink material that separated his grinning mouth from your private parts, it was relatively easy to tell how wet you already were.
Daigoro Banjo
This was the last thing you heard before your panties were ripped apart, your labia spread, and your clit attacked by his tongue. A single gasp escaped your lips as you tried to pull your hips back and stop him from pleasuring you any further, but - as expected - your attempt was nullified by his hand and those misty ropes that enveloped your body so that it remained in a straight position.
His tongue lapped against your folds as he slurped up every bit of your flowing juices, making sure that none of it was wasted by trickling down your thighs. 
The moment his thick fingers entered you, you were reduced to a trembling and moaning mess that wanted nothing more than to cum. You had to bite your lip in order to stop yourself from moaning any further, hoping that the pain might stop your rapidly approaching orgasm for at least a short while. 
Daigoro noticed your futile attempt and immediately thought of a countermeasure. He bared his teeth and bit your already swollen and sensitive clit, while his thick fingers arched up to where your g-spot was and began rubbing it at a relatively quick and brutal pace.
Being pleasured that intensely was a first for you, and that fact mixed with the gradually growing shame caused some tears to begin flowing down cheeks.
"Cum for me, my queen, come on now..."
You shook your head, not wanting to lose even that last bit of dignity you had left by fulfilling his request, but unfortunately, he didn't take no as an answer and did something that you would've never expected him to do.
He directed that black and rope-like mist directly to your dripping sex, and the moment Daigoro pulled his fingers out, it penetrated you so deeply that you felt it collide with your cervix's opening.
With a loud moan, you threw your head back and came so hard that you forgot how to breathe for a second. The pirate captain held your trembling legs spread apart and watched, after deactivating his quirk, with delight as your walls tried to clamp down around nothingness. After a short while, he began to lick you clean while your orgasm slowly but surely came to an end.
You tried to regain your breath as the man licked his lips, stood up, and cupped your face, forcing you to look directly into his hazed eyes. 
I'm going to pleasure you to the point where you'll never want to ascend your throne ever again. 
The moment you embrace me, your kingdom will fall...
So, what are you going to do...? 
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Leaving Dock
More of the “adopting a CSU” story that I’ve been sort of working on. Also on AO3 for ease of back reading.
Kris
Serenity left dock on schedule and departed the station without further incident.
On the ship's tiny bridge, Cass sat in one of the mobile convertible chairs, slumped over a communications console and deeply asleep. Given her current position, the captain was going to be stiff and sore when she woke up in a couple of hours.
I contemplated picking her up and carrying her back to her cabin, but with the CombatUnit sitting not three feet away I didn't dare touch her. Never mind that it was restrained, it was still basically feral. Cass would have to teach her new pet some manners soon.
Speaking of the construct, its unnerving gaze didn't falter. Either it stared straight ahead at the large display surface — deity only knew what it saw there — or else it watched me. I suspected it was recording every word and would report us to its company overlords the moment it had a chance.
Sure, I might be second-in-command, but when it came to the workings of the Rim, I had vastly more experience than Cassandra. She was a freeholder who did freelance cargo runs in and outside the CR, and her homeworld was a safe little planet where everyone had food, shelter, and health care. She had no idea what life was actually like inside the hellhole.
I glanced over at the SecUnit again and sure enough, it was watching me. It had hawkish but expressive facial features, and its blank expression almost never wavered. About the most I'd seen was a hint of fear when it hadn't been fully conscious.
"You're the reason she's out of it," I told the construct, quietly so as not to awaken the pilot. "You must know that. She picks up strays, that one. If she could take home every vagrant she came across, she'd have an army by now." I shook my head. "Fuck it, why am I even talking to you? There's probably nothing useful in that head of yours, anyway."
The local traffic controller wished us good luck and safe travels as we exited station space and began the slow trek toward the nearest wormhole in the sector. Serenity was carrying cargo for five different corporate installations this time around, and we had a schedule to keep. One that had been rudely interrupted by the office building firefight.
Fucking corporate pricks.
Out here, in largely empty space and in the middle of a major shipping lane, there was very little for me to do. Serenity had done the bulk of the navigational calculations before ever leaving the station. Cass occasionally checked them by hand, but in this case, we were following a standard and known route so there was no need to double-check the math.
I stretched and was about to close my eyes when I noticed the fucking construct. "What the fuck do you want?" I demanded.
It didn't move and gave me no indication that it heard me. Its unblinking eyes focused on the display in front of it. Perhaps it just didn't care to have a conversation, or maybe it didn't register me as anything more than another annoying human. Presumably it thought little the human species.
A few seconds later, a message appeared in my feed inbox.
I opened it and saw a semi-coherent request. Please display external camera feeds on the large surface.
"What? So you can find your friends quicker?"
The construct shook its head.
"Yeah, sorry, pal, but that's a hard no. You don't get a say in what happens around here. Cass might have a bleeding heart, but I know better. I've seen what your kind can do, and frankly, I don't trust you. If you never move again, I won't be unhappy about it."
Another message landed on my heads-up display. This SecUnit arrived via a warship. All communication is cut off.
I puzzled over the statements for a moment and then shrugged. "OK. So? You know what, never mind. I'm going to get me some dinner and sleep before we hit the wormhole. Be a good bot and try not to fuck anything up."
I told Serenity to monitor the bridge and make sure the SecUnit's bindings remained secure and then headed down to the mess for some rations. Fuck this whole thing, frankly.
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astraeagreengrass · 4 years
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The Queen’s Husband [1/?]
When her reign is threatened, the Queen of Ergona must find a husband to secure her throne.
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Pairing: King!Steve x reader AU
Word Count: 2.875
Warnings: Minor descriptions of violence. No smut - but there will be in later chapters. English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
A/N: This was originally my submission for a writing challenge that never came to be. My prompt was “Elizabeth”, the original score composed by David Hirschfelder for the 1998 movie starring the incredible Cate Blanchett. I thought it was the perfect opportunity to try and sate my King Steve obsession - which I blame entirely on  @invisibleanonymousmonsters​‘s Heart of Steel and @shreddedparchment​‘s Pseudo Princess (two masterpieces written by incredible authors whom I look up to so much!).
Series mastelist 
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The air smelled like salt water, blood and smoke.
Your face was damp from the sea spray or your tears, you weren’t sure. Wiping your eyes furiously you stood still, staring straight ahead at the burning fleet of Zerbolian warships.
Their soldiers were still screaming.
Closer to the cliffside, Ergona’s armada stood in defense position. Over one hundred ships at the Queen's command, making it the most powerful and feared navy in the world. The Zerbolian king had been a fool to think that, out of all ways, he would win this war at sea.
He hadn't believed his advisors, choosing instead to put his faith on the assumption that he could never be bested by a woman, and a young one at that. His mistake, you pondered, hadn't been to think that Ergona would bend to his will as it had during your father's reign, but to think that you would.
You, however, were not your father. And tomorrow you'll ride into the capital city of Albeon like he never did, celebrated by your people as the ruler who put an end to the Zerbolian threat.    
But today you would mourn.
It didn't matter that most casualties had been on the enemy's side. Death was still death. Across the Muir Sea women would cry for the men they had violently lost at the hands of Y/N of Ergona. Women such as yourself, albeit none of them had to carry the heavy crown of their kingdom, and for that they were better than you were.
The sound of hooves broke through the howling of the wind. Looking back you saw a beautiful black stallion making its way to you. His rider was a blonde man you could tell from afar, whether from his distinct shield or from the sheer strength of his presence.
“Your Grace” he said, moving his horse to stand next to yours.
You cleared your throat, trying to disguise your choked voice.
“Captain Rogers” you answered, sounding as stoic as you possibly could. “I thought you were at sea.”
“I was. But I noticed your horse standing at the edge of the cliff so I sailed ashore.”
“Isn’t it reckless to sail ashore while the enemy’s fleet is still burning?” you retorted.
He let out a dry laugh.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but this is far from the most reckless thing I’ve ever done.”
You didn’t answer. Captain Steven Rogers indeed hadn’t made his fame by being careful. The son of a wealthy Duke, he had traded the comforts of a life at Court for a military career.  He had yet to reach his third decade of age, but his accomplishments on the battlefield were well known in all of Ergona, earning him the respect of powerful men much older than him. 
For the five years you had been queen he had stood by you. A man of unquestionable loyalty and honor, Captain Rogers not only managed to unify the army, but to restore the naval forces to their glory in an incredibly short time. You owed him the defeat of Zerbolia, as well as your safety in the face of the assassinations attempts he managed to uncover. 
Twice now you had questioned him about his future aspirations during small council meetings and twice he's given the same answer:
"My duty is to Y/N of Ergona. As long as my queen judges me fit to fight for her and her kingdom, then so I will."
His words unsettled you. Your experience taught you that no man could be that virtuous. They always wanted more. And Captain Rogers, with his prestige and influence, could very well be coveting your crown.
"I hope I'm not being too forward" the man himself said, as if he knew you were thinking of him. "But are you alright, Your Grace?"
His concern surprised you.
"I suppose it is odd for someone to cry for their enemy's loss" you answered.
"Not odd, just surprising. But I shouldn't have expect less from you."
You turned to him, brows furrowed.
"Whatever do you mean?"
Under your questioning gaze, Steve blushed, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of light pink.
"Pardon me, Your Grace. I didn't mean to offend you" he quickly apologized. "But, in my eyes, crying for those poor dead soldiers doesn't make you weak or odd. It only showcases you humanity. And maybe it is unwise for you to show yourself like this - God knows you have enough criticism as it is. It is strange this world we live in where humanity is seen as a vulnerability, but, in my eyes, it just makes you greater queen."
Smiling, he added:
"Not that I ever doubted your greatness."
The screams were gone now. Only the strong wind remained, bringing ashore the distinct smell of burning flesh. And although you were starting to feel nauseated, you couldn't take your eyes off Captain Rogers.
"Do you think we did well by crushing the Zerbolian fleet the way we just did?" you finally inquired him.
"I think our worst decisions are made during war. But yes, I doubt we'll have any more conflicts with Zerbolia after today."
"I don't want to be a warmonger queen. I don't want my greatness to come from the blood of my enemies or the tears of my people" you continued.
Captain Rogers was silent but his eyes were filled with an affection you can't place.
"You are repairing your father's mistakes and they were many. There will be blood to pay, but ultimately, Ergonia will rejoice. It already is. The people call you The Golden Queen - the one who brings glory back to the land", he said.
You are lost for words. Your most basic instincts, the ones who recalled the way your father mistreated your mother and the everyday hardships of negotiating with men who didn't take you seriously, willed you not to fall for his kindness. But another part of you - young and carefree on the fields of Foghar - found solace in the hope his words brought you.
Before you could answer another rider arrived, bearing a red flag with the dragon sigil, your House motifs.
"Your Grace. Captain Rogers" he greeted, bowing while still astride his horse. "Lord Stark calls for you, Your Grace. He wishes to ride back to Albeon as soon as possible."
You nodded.
"Thank you, Mister..."
"Peter Parker, Your Grace".
"Thank you, Mr. Parker. Please tell my uncle Captain Rogers will escort me back to camp."
"Yes, Your Grace", the boy bowed once again, before returning the way he had come from.
Turning to Captain Rogers you realized the moment was gone. Whatever talk you had shared today would stay here, atop the Gaothach Cliffs, only the restless sea as your witness.
"Thank you for your company, Captain Rogers" you said and your voice was back to the detatched tone you usually spoke in.
Steve glanced at the last remains of the enemy's ships, before pulling the reins of his horse.
"Anything for you, Your Grace."
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A fortnight after the events at the Gaothach Cliffs you sat in the council room surrounded by your advisors.
"A letter arrived today from the King of Zerbolia" Lord Fury, the master of warfare, announced. "He wishes to sign a peace treaty, putting an end to the conflict between our nation and his."
The corner of your lips lifted slightly, in a discreet but satisfied half-smile.
"And what do you propose we do, Lord Fury?" you asked from the head of the table.
"The peace treaty is what we coveted, but it may be a trap. I suggest we send a diplomatic party to the Isle of Solas, which is neutral ground, and celebrate the treaty there. Furthermore, to protect Your Majesty's well-being, I suggest that you send someone to sign it, rather than going yourself."
 "Very well" you said. "You'll be responsible for organizing the diplomatic party and the signing of the treaty for as soon as possible. And when the day comes you'll sign it as the queen's representative."
 Lord Fury bowed. His face, usually an inscrutable front adorned only by his eye patch failed to hide his surprise. He expected you to oppose him, instead going on to sign the treaty yourself. And to deny what you felt was an obligation as a ruler was another blow to your pride - a king would have braved any threats on his life to ensure his country's peace. But a queen such as yourself - young, unmarried and childless - was expected to sit still. 
You'd had a small victory when the council agreed on you going to the shore to accompany the army as it faced Zerbolia. You suppose you could grant them this concession.
 "Lady Natasha, what news do you bring?" you turned your attention to a beautiful redheaded woman standing on your left, Natasha Romanoff, the master of whispers.
"Your Grace" she begun in an uneasy timbre you hardly ever heard. Natasha was anything but meek. Whatever one of her spies had discovered was not good. "Earlier this morning your cousin, Queen Margaret of Beathan, gave birth to her first child."
Lord Fury coughed on his wine. It would have been comic if the news weren’t dreadful. Natasha’s heavy words rung in your ears, distorted, as if your body had been been dunked underwater and the pressure kept you from doing anything other than allow the current to plunge your body deeper.
Lord Stark, master of coin, finally broke the silence.
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"It is a boy" Lady Natasha answered. "Heir to the throne of Beathan… And Ergona."
Lord Stark cursed. Lord Strange, master of trade, stood and began pacing the room.
"Are you positive that this child has a claim to the throne?" he said.
"Of course he has" Lord Fury cut in, face red from all the coughing. "Your Grace has yet to bear children, therefore she has no heir. And Queen Margaret is her closest living relative. If Queen Y/N dies before securing her lineage, then the throne goes to Margaret. And since Margaret is already queen the crown falls upon her son, who would unify the kingdoms of Beathan and Ergona."
Queen Margaret was your cousin on your father's side - the royal side. Her mother, your aunt, had married the King of Beathan and Margaret was their oldest child, thus becoming queen upon his death. Since you had no siblings, Margaret was next in line to the throne of Ergona which was always a very remote possibility considering she had her own kingdom to rule. But the birth of a son changed things immensely. 
Under the table, Natasha squeezed your hand.
"My Lords" you faintly rose your voice, silencing the debate between your male advisors. "What shall we do about this matter?"
They were dumbfounded, each one not-so-subtly staring at the other wondering who’d be brave enough to answer. Sighing, Lord Strange spoke:
"Your Grace, there is only one way for us to end this threat. You must marry and produce an heir."
“Once you have an heir, then he or she will be the next in the succession, guaranteeing the future of you House" he completed.
"No, Lord Strange. Only a son will guarantee the future of my House. A daughter will be just like me - as prepared as any man, as educated as any man, but in the end she'll still need a husband to secure her reign. It happened to Margaret and apparently it is what will befall me: queens, it appears, are only means to an end. It looks to me that we're not meant to rule with our hearts, but with our wombs".
Lord Strange slumped on his chair, embarrassed. But his words were true: you had tried, day and night for the past five years to establish yourself as a strong ruler. You ended wars and initiated policies which benefitted commoners and royals alike. The taxes were controlled, the public coffers were full and the military thrived. Ergona had established itself as a key player in international trade routes. However all your accomplishments failed to quell public demands for your marriage. Your gender threatened to topple everything you've built. 
You weren't oppose to marriage, per se. Lord Stark and his wife had a long, happy marriage and so did Lord Strange and others you knew. Your anxiety came from having to share your crown and the responsibility that came with it. As queen you had a wide variety of suitors, Ergonans and foreigners alike, but anyone could fake their intentions in order to secure power. The wrong husband could mean a hellish life to you and your people.
Lord Fury, never one to be subtle, landed the final blow:
“There has been much talk about your lack of commitment to marriage, Your Grace. I know you’re aware of it. And they will only get worse with the news of Margaret’s son. Your father weakened the kingdom, but you’ll never restore it to its full glory on your own. Fight as many battles as you want but in the world we live in a queen can’t rule without a king.”
"I am well aware of the world we live in, Lord Fury" you replied. "More so, I am well aware that my position demands sacrifices."
For the second time that morning, he was visibly surprised.
"I only ask that you be very careful as you chose my betrothed. Not only for the safety of the kingdom, but for my well being as well."  
"Your Grace?" Natasha asked in a whisper but you didn't answer. There would be time for you to confide in her privately.
Lord Stark cleared his throat. His eyes were filled with unshed tears.
"Your Grace" he said. "My beautiful niece Y/N. I have raised you as my own since you were nine years old. My sister's spirit lives in your words and deeds and in the way you rule this country with all of your heart. I protected you with everything I had until that fateful morning when you were forced to abandon your youth to carry this heavy crown and since then I've felt that my everything is no longer enough to spare you from suffering." 
"Right now, not as your advisor, or as the Duke of Foghar, but as a man who loves you like a father, I ask that you please consider Captain Steven Rogers to be your husband. He is the best man I know and the only one I trust to treat you as you deserve."
Surprisingly, Natasha agreed.
"It is not a bad idea" she turned to you with a gentle gaze. "He is related to the Asgardian royal family. His late mother was Queen Frigga’s sister and his father is the Duke of Arvenia, who was one of your father’s closest advisors."
“Well that brings me no comfort” you muttered dryly. “We are all well aware of how costly my father’s and his advisors' actions have been to the kingdom.”
"The Duke of Arvenia was indeed a terrible advisor" Lord Fury said. "However he wasn't chosen as an advisor for his expertise, but because whoever controls Arvenia controls the West. It was how your father managed a stable relationship with that part of Ergona, a relationship that is now at risk without a strong western representative at Court."
He continued:
"You have secured good support in the East because of Lord Stark and your mother's family. Besides, your House is traditionally an eastern house. Be that as it may, the western lords never fully accepted your House's ascension to the throne, which lead to seven rebellions in less than five hundred years. That is a lot. The Duke of Arvenia is rich and powerful on his land and if his son becomes king then we’ll no longer have to worry about the West rebelling."
Ergona was traditionally divided in two provinces – Arvenia do the West and Foghar to the East. Once two separate countries, they were unified by your ancestors after a bloody war centuries ago, in a move that established Ergona and it’s capital, Albeon, a fortified city strategically located between the two regions.  
History made dealing with the West a tricky matter. When it’s lords weren’t blatantly questioning your House’s authority, they were either demanding more representation at Court or fomenting new conflicts which resulted solely in dead soldiers.
A Western king could shift this dinamic positively.
“Your heir - the son of an Eastern mother and a Western father. Ergonia united. You'll secure your crown and the safety of the kingdom" Lord Strange professed.
You squeezed Natasha's hand under the table for the third time. Your grip was so strong your knuckles had to be white. Your gaze landed on Lord Stark - Uncle Tony - and he gave you a reassuring smile, tears now streaming freely.
He knew this day would come, when you, much like your mother, would mary out of duty instead of out of love. He could only hope you’d have better luck than she did.
Taking a deep breath, you said:
"Please summon Captain Rogers to Court. I will speak with him myself. This council is dismissed."
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