#burns and schreiber

[oldshowbiz]

people are too sensitive these days…

#burns and schreiber #Avery Schreiber #Jack Burns #can’t joke about anything anymore #hungry i

[eureka-its-zico]

A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.

Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad. 

Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart. 

There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary. 

Vital. 

So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance. 

Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.

“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”

Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over. 

“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”

Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help. 

“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”

Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”

“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”

Honesty. 

Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day. 

Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer.  If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave. 

“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”

“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”

More cryptics. More hoops. 

A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.

Halsey needed him. 

“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it. 

“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“

“Yes, I know.”

“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”

Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well. 

Halsey had found something. Really found something. 

“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”

“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“

“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”

No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it. 

“Go ahead.”

Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way. 

Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code. 

“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“

“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her. 

“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”

“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”

Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot. 

“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”

In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated. 

“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”

With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands. 

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you. 

“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”

“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him. 

It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up. 

“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”

A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away. 

“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”

Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away. 

“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”

“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”

You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns. 

Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal. 

All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win. 

A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets. 

Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky. 

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point. 

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”

Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty. 

“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”

“I was only saying-“

“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or  place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood. 

You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman. 

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat. 

I Should’ve been softer…

You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you. 

It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment. 

Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close. 

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”

“A major asshole.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”

“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this.  Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company. 

“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance. 

You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form. 

The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel. 

It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline. 

“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head. 

“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”

“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.” 

“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”

One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited. 

You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence. 

“Is it true that you were born like that?”

His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives. 

You were supposed to be a lucky one. 

One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world. 

“Yes.”

You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born. 

————

The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.

You were an anomaly. 

Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left. 

Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony. 

With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard. 

The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills. 

Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale. 

It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak. 

“Thao, can you come play?” 

“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”

A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over. 

“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”

You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you. 

“Are you sure? Caster -“

“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.” 

He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him. 

You didn’t waste any more  time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers. 

You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’. 

As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass. 

“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”

With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew. 

“Where’s Thao?”

“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”

“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”

Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit. 

“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”

“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”

Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation. 

One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened. 

You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter. 

“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”

You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him. 

Could you have gone around? 

Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared. 

It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut. 

Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather. 

“And where did you run off to this morning?” 

You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.

“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”

“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned. 

The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning. 

“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”

Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named. 

Either that or joining the resistance. 

“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”

A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him. 

“And there it is.”

The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention. 

“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“

“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent. 

“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”

“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”

“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”

“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“

You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut. 

“Enough!” 

Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name. 

“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned. 

“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”

You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins. 

It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything. 

“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“

“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”

“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls. 

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later. 

You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle. 

This was a kill zone. 

Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle. 

If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed - 

“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”

“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”

Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground. 

You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay. 

It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome. 

“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”

“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward. 

He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes. 

“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”

Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan. 

“And you are?”

“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”

Liar! 

The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence. 

Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit. 

“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”

“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.” 

Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time. 

Except this time - no…NO! 

It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of. 

“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”

Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it. 

“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”

Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him. 

“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”

“What are you doing?”

You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather. 

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste. 

“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”

It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed. 

But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward. 

“No!”

He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”

“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped. 

You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie. 

“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“

“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”

You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame. 

A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.

The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see. 

With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you. 

There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue. 

“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”

A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They  must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie. 

Except that wasn’t what happened. 

The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him. 

“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”

You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told. 

The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.

You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back. 

“Riz!”

You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball. 

It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt. 

As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan. 

You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon. 

“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality. 

“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”

Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you. 

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”

“No.” 

You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”

“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”

But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest. 

Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him. 

None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain. 

The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather. 

The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect. 

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it. 

This Dr. Halsey. 

False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low. 

“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”

The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe. 

Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage. 

Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next. 

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.” 

Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather,  and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back. 

It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.

It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth. 

“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”

For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 -  helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.

_________

You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.

The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him,  had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious. 

You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside  your grandfather's gut. 

No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life. 

No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact. 

A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor. 

As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back. 

When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while. 

You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking. 

She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in. 

“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”

Subject Cobalt? 

Was that supposed to be you?

You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it. 

A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you. 

“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked. 

“Okay.”

That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils. 

“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat. 

You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question. 

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it. 

“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”

“No.”

The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit. 

“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“

“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”

She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t. 

“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”

She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for. 

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back. 

The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step. 

“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab  from Reach or Illium?”

“Reach.”

The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect. 

Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy. 

You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.

“Why would we kill you?”

You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.

“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”

“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”

“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”

“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”

“What program?”

You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed. 

“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”

UNSC propaganda. 

That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head. 

“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”

“John.”

Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin. 

In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take. 

“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”

Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.

Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing. 

Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind. 

You didn’t understand until you did. 

You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child. 

“What is this?”

Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?

“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”

“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”

You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful. 

“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.” 

Gone. 

Gone. 

Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage. 

“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”

Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed. 

When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke. 

“What do you need me to do?”

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

#A Body of Stars #ongoing series #halo the series #halo tv show #master chief #master chief x f!reader #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief fanfiction #john 117 #john 117 x f!reader #john 117 x reader #john 117 x you #john 117 fanfiction #pablo schreiber #enemies to lovers #strangers to lovers #slow burn #halo tv series/mass effect mashup #mass effect #reader is referred to as subject cobalt

[tuppencetrinkets]

Sorted caps from Halo, seasons 1 & 2.

Pablo Schreiber - Master Chief ~19,000

Shabana Azmi - Margaret Parangosky ~4,500

Natasha Culzac - Riz ~2,300

Olive Gray - Miranda Keyes ~6,000

Yerin Ha - Kwan Ha ~9,000

Natascha McElhone - Catherine Halsey ~12,000

Bentley Kalu - Vannak ~500

Kate Kennedy - Kai ~5,000

Charlie Murphy - Makee ~7,000

Danny Sapani - Jacob Keyes ~2,500

Cortana ~1,800

Bokeem Woodbine - Soren ~4,000

Fiona O'Shaughnessy - Laera ~2,500

Tylan Bailey - Kessler ~400

Joseph Morgan - James Ackerson ~5,000

Cristina Rodlo - Talia Perez ~2,500

Bronte Carmichael - Julia ~500

Ryan McParlan - Adun ~1,500

Burn Gorman - Vinsher Grath ~1,400

This content is free for anyone to use or edit however you like; if you care to throw a dollar or two my way for time, effort, storage fees etc you are more than welcome to do so via my PAYPAL.  Please like or reblog this post if you have found it useful or are downloading the content within.  If you have any questions or you have any problems with the links or find any inconsistencies in the content, etc. please feel free to drop me a politely worded message via my ASKBOX (second icon from the top on my theme!

#halo #halo caps #halo screencaps #halo resources #halo tv show #pablo schreiber #burn gorman #ryan mcparlan #bronte carmichael #cristina rodio #joseph morgan #tylan bailey #fiona oshaughnessy #bokeem woodbine #cortana #danny sapani #charlie murphy #kate kennedy #bentley kalu #natascha mcelhone #yerin ha #olive gray #natasha culzac #shabana azmi #master chief #margaret parangosky #riz #miranda kys #kwan ha #catherine halsey

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Unto Dawn {7}***

Master Chief Pablo x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Plot, NSFW, 18 + Content, SMUT, Small Bit of Angst

Words: 5.8k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. With the first truth already revealed, more are revealed and when dawn comes everything will be different.

Note: Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one-shots. They all can be read separately to understand but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts.  Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Note II: Halo OGs will get the title reference. Hehehe!

 If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

 ***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous: On Your Six | Feel Something | A Night Off | Apex Predators | Truth Be Told | Confess |

~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 That was the sound of your booted foot rapidly bouncing up and down on the floor of your domicile as you sat on the couch with your eyes glued to your door. Everything was silent, albeit that sound—that repetitive sound.

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 The loudness of your foot bouncing against the floor should have made it impossible to hear any possible sound anywhere else—let’s say the hall leading to your door but it didn’t. The silence out there was deafening. The absolute silence and absence of his footsteps was deafening. You knew he wasn’t a stupid man. His intelligence was high as was his ability to perceive what someone meant next. It was a talent when it came to interrogations. A learned skill and enhanced ability. You knew he’d understood what you meant by “the rendezvous point had been compromised”. You knew he’d understood the dangers you’d both recklessly had put yourselves in. You also knew that he would have understood what your walking away meant. This was the only logical location.

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 Your foot sped up and with it so did your thoughts. You went over what he’d said. He’d taken out his pellet. This is what Miranda meant. She’d told him about your pellet. Now you wanted to know which action came first. Did he learn about your pellet being removed and then decided to take his out too or the other way around? You didn’t know which possibility you wanted to be true. Did it matter? The facts were what were important. John had removed his pellet. He was pellet-free. Everything you’d experienced within the first few hours he was now experiencing.

 The first seventy-two hours were the worst for you. While it was a wonderous time where everything felt new and unique, you also went through sensory overload with everything. Every scent was too strong, the sun’s glare too fierce, the breeze, or rain or even snow too harsh, and every new emotion that wasn’t all that new felt nauseating. You remembered being so anxious and jumpy but also so distracted and hyper focused on the slightest thing. It made missions a nightmare. Was he going through the same?

 You stood then released a harsh puff of air, venting some of your frustration. Why wasn’t he here yet, you wondered? Where did he go? Was he going to come? Did you really want him to come? With that question you dropped back onto the couch. A realization hit you, he didn’t have anything in him suppressing his emotions or urges. 

The sensation of attraction hit you hard the first time. Thinking back, you remembered just how it was for you and your belly fluttered. You hadn’t known what was going on or why the smell of John’s sweat made your heart quicken, or why the sight of John showering made your mouth water and hands shake. You’d seen him shower hundreds of times, seen the soapy-water mixture cascade down his body so many times it had become normal. You remembered how the sight of what was between his legs made something in you tingle and moisten. You didn’t understand it then, but now—months later you were wiser—slightly. What if him coming here makes that happen to him?

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 Your foot banged louder, and your thoughts spiraled, and you recalled your one and only night together. You’d wracked your brain trying to come up with an explanation as to how it happened. Your attraction had gotten to a boiling point but what of him? Was he lying and had the pellet out then? Or had Halsey’s failproof tech done just that and failed? You wanted to track Miranda down and get some answers right now. Bolting up once again, you prepared to leave then the door tone rang out making you stop in your tracks. After several moments, you practically tiptoed to the door and turned on the surveillance screen beside it. There he stood all near seven feet of him.

 After taking a few deep breathes, you pressed the button and watched the door slide open. As he looked up, you noted how clear the hazel in his eyes had become. He looked like he really was seeing differently. His eyes also asked the question his lips did not. You stepped to the side and allowed him access. As he walked inside you watched him closely as if he were this unpredictable force that could and would go berserk at any moment. However, he did not go berserk, or do anything out of the ordinary.

 You rolled your eyes because none of this was ordinary. This was probably the second time in forever that he’d been inside your domicile. This was the definition of abnormal but somehow it felt as if he should be here. He should be in your domicile, should be sitting across the table from you at mealtime, or sitting on your couch tinkering with a gun or plasma grenade, or in your bed. By the time your eyes came into focus you’d realized you’d dazed off and he was now standing next to that table looking at you with such an innocent and vulnerable look on his face that you couldn’t help but take a step to him.

 It was a step you retracted almost immediately.

 “Why here?”

 “Miranda and I have fortified it. When I realized I could trust and confide in her when I took out my—pellet She helped me find Halsey’s eyes and ears, get rid of them and fortify so no others could be planted. It’s safe here.”

 It was he who took the next steps to you, but he didn’t approach too closely. He stopped several feet from you, but it was still too close. You side stepped and walked over to your couch and sat down.

 “How did you—why did you--.”

 His starts and stops were adorable. He didn’t know where to begin. You understood, this was a lot to take in and adjust to.

 “Sit,” you urged.

 The look of caution John gave you almost made you snort. He was acting like you were the threat. Slowly you watched his bow-legged walk to the minimalistic chair that was adjacent to the couch you were sitting on. When he sat, there was no ease or comfort to it. His back was straight, legs spread widely apart, hands resting atop his thigh and eyes on you—waiting. On the surface, he looked calm, cool and collected but you knew better. You knew underneath that icy and stoic exterior he was losing his mind with the urge to rapid fire every question that came to mind. You could tell he was seconds from bouncing off the walls.

 “How did you take it out?”

 “Dug it out.”

 “How did you know it was there?”

 You took a deep breath, “Remember the mission to Aleria?”

 “The dust planet.”

 You nodded.

 “You fell off the cliff,” he added.

 “I did and landed in the pit of those sharp rocks.”

 “You said you were fine.”

 “I was or thought I was. It wasn’t until I got back to base and was cleaning up did I notice the massive bruise on my back. Usually bruises fade within a day or two but it was almost a week and it didn’t look to be getting any better. In those days I noticed small changes. Things seemed a little different but I didn’t know how or why. When I looked at the area I felt it and it felt like there was something lodged there. I ended up taking a knife to it and the pellet came out.”

 He looked to be taking that piece of the puzzle well. There were no outward signs of a mental breakdown.

 “Is that when you went to Miranda?”

 “No that was about a month after. I just tried to keep everything normal. I had to. After it was out, I started to feel things, emotions like anger, rage, happiness, I laughed, things were funny. Colors were brighter, smells better, the armor felt different, it was a lot to take in. There were so many days I couldn’t handle it. So many missions I nearly spazzed out on because the training was not enough to keep the self-doubt, the thoughts, and the urge to rebel against an order wondering if it was the right thing. My objectivity was gone.”

 “I thought you were different. I noticed but then you’d go back to normal when I watched. I thought it was nothing.”

 “It was control. It was me working doubly hard to appear normal.” You sighed remembering those weeks and months. “It was so much work—so hard especially with Halsey’s eyes and checks and exams. There must have been tens of times I thought she’d discovered me but every time she let me go, I knew I was safe, but I could never relax from fear of it being a tactic of hers to catch me.”

 It was then his shoulders began to slouch.

 “You should have come to me.”

 “And say what? Halsey has a pellet in your back that makes you numb? Would you have believed me?”

 He studied you for a few moments before he looked away. You knew that he knew he wouldn’t have believed you.

 “I believe you now.”

 Hearing the words, you felt some strange relief. You weren’t alone with this anymore. Yeah, you had Miranda, but she didn’t know what this felt like. She’d gone her entire life with emotions and feelings. Things that were second nature and a duh for her were not for you. It took practice, note taking--meticulousness. Now you had someone going through the same exact thing as you. You sighed.

 “So it was out when we sparred in the ring and the mission where you disobeyed me and took initiative. And that night.”

 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

 Your foot picked up right where it had left off before he’d arrived. Fighting the urge to bolt up and pace the room, you dug your nails into your outer thigh and gritted with the subtle pain. You didn’t know if he sensed your agitation, but he unexpectedly changed the direction of the conversation.

 “Miranda says the artifact must have damaged mine when it sent out an electromagnetic pulse. It was malfunctioned when she took it out.

 “Ho—how do you feel?”

 He tilted his head to the side a little bit then straightened it and did the same on the left side. It was like a robot doing a systems check.

 “I feel.”

 His eyes met yours. “Have you always looked this way?”

 “What way?”

 Again, he took a beat then replied. “Pleasing to the eye.”

 Your jaw dropped. Master chief Petty Officer John-117 just called you attractive. You could have passed out. Never did you think you’d see this day. Did he even know what attractive was?

 “My looks have always been the same.”

 In such swift movements, John stood closed the space between you and sat on the table before you that you had a few books scattered on. “Your eyes this color?”

 His face peered closer into your orbs. You nodded.

 “Your skin—this--.” He cupped your jaw sliding his thumb across your cheekbone then to your jaw. “This—soft.”

 Your vocal cords wouldn’t work, you knew that already, so you didn’t bother answering. You nodded again. John’s thumb fell to your lips where he traced them taking in every detail with the thick pad of his digit like his skin held memories and your lips was what he wanted to remember the most.

 “Your lips—so---.”

 His eyes were glued to your mouth and the intensity in them made the hand you were currently using to dig your nails into your thigh tremble. He didn’t continue though, instead, he clenched his jaw and gulped. His Adams Apple bobbed making his heart quicken. This was nothing like using your heightened senses in combat or on a mission. This was different.

 You naturally picked up all these little details but now they meant entirely different things. Before increased heartrate could mean someone was lying or trying to hide something. Now, it could mean the man across from you was struggling with adjusting or feeling arousal. Then, the twitch of a jaw could mean anger, now it could mean a struggle with control—a fight to hold on to it and not act impulsively—recklessly—rakishly. A slight dilation in the eye used to mean he’d picked up a detail or movement, now it could mean he saw something appealing, something he liked—wanted.

 His voice brought you out of your chaotic thoughts; “Your mouth--,” he began as he pushed the tip of his thumb into your mouth. It wasn’t a difficult task for him. Your lips parted with ease and welcomed him.

 “Fuck!” It was a guttural, and harshly whispered word that sent a shiver through you.

 “So—hot—smooth--.”

 His face came closer and everything in you wanted to feel his lips on yours, but the small voice in your head whispered of caution, of danger, of nearing doom. John’s left hand that was clasping the back of your head moved down to your neck then slowly trailed lower to your collarbone. As his thumb in your mouth explored the buds of your tongue and the variety of sharp and dull teeth, his other fingers swirled around your collar and décolletage, leaving a trail of icy fire. His touch burned—scorched even, but chilled and stunned all at the same time and you wanted more—needed more.

 “Y/N,” John whispered his forehead now pressed against yours. He was sweltering.

 The subtle mint and juniper berry scent caressed you, awakening something in you that wanted to know if his lips tasted like that mint and juniper. From memory, you knew they would. You knew he would taste sweet, and fresh and his kiss would leave trails of ice along your skin. That knowledge only made your insides burn more fervently. His scent would forever be engraved in you, forever be one you would crave.

 Without thinking, you placed your hand on his bulky thigh and instantly gripped it when you registered the hefty muscles there. A small groan strangled in your throat, but you knew he still heard it. His eyes snapped open and peered into yours. You felt like the glare from them were as intense as the rays from the sun itself.

 “You smell--,” he inhaled deeply then moaned. “Sweet like fruit, earthy like water, fragrant like flowers. You smell—like need.”

 Master Chief was a sweet talker without even trying to be. You knew this was all innocent on his part. He was just working through his newfound world and what it meant to him and his senses. There was nothing sensual within his words, no yearning, or desire. That was all coming from you, and you had to get a grip. Steeling your nerves, the best you could, you swallowed—albeit a little too loudly, then spoke.

 “D—do—do you have—question—s?”

 Looking in his eyes, you saw innocence but there was something else. The moment you smelled him, you almost ripped his clothes off. You smelled desire. Was it yours or his, though?

 “Do I smell the same as you do—to you?”

 You shook your head.

 “What do I smell like?”

 “Mint, juniper berries, gun metal, citrus pods--,” you paused and inhaled. There was always something else that you couldn’t ever decipher. In the last few weeks, you’d come up with something but none of it was plausible. It sounded stupid. “And the stars and the night air after a cool breeze rips through leaving nothing but silence--stillness.”

 Chancing it, you opened your eyes and found his on yours. In seconds, John’s lips crashed to yours and took control of a searing kiss. Weeks ago, his kiss was forceful, demanding and sloppy, tonight it was the same but oh so urgent and eager. When you looked back at that first night with him, you’d wondered how he kissed like that. Tonight, you understood. Instinct. You quickly got lost in his kiss, lost in his taste, lost in the way his hand felt at the tail of your back where the evidence of the missing device laid. The fragments of his words from the day you’d had your exams with Halsey echoed in your head.

 “Anything else you are thinking, anything besides that, stop. None of it means anything, it never has.”

 You quickly tore your lips from his, bolted upright to your feet ramming your nose into his in a jumbled move to scurry from him and across the room. John’s loud hiss filled the room. You kept your back to him and stared at the wall, trying to fight through the pain in your own nose and keep the seams of your control together. They were quickly fraying, threatening complete exposure.

 “Y/N?”

 The confusion in his voice stabbed at your chest. Did he even know what he was doing?

 “You said—I don’t—this isn’t a good idea.”

 “Why? We have done this before.”

 “And you reprimanded me for it and ignored me for weeks after. You even went as far as to tell me that you are my superior and I am your subordinate,” you began.

 “That I have your back in the field and you have mine. We get in and get the job done. Anything else you are thinking, anything besides that, stop. None of it means anything, it never has. None of it will ever happen again. Keep your head in the fight, there is a lot at stake,” John filled in with his perfect memory.

 “Exactly,” you whispered ignoring how the words that were spoken with such conviction and certainty weeks ago were now said softly, with plenty of uncertainty and regret. Did he regret them?

 “I didn’t know what to say, or how to reconcile things,” he attempted beginning to pace your floor. “I had the memories of that night, but I did not understand them, did not understand how or why. My head was not my own. Miranda thinks there were moments of clarity from the pellet and moments where it worked. I think—that night…with you was—clarity.”

 You watched him pace. This was not the John you knew who was always in control. He was struggling. Could his words really have been because of the pellet and his actions that night real? He continued to pace but you remained where you were contemplating what you should do.

 Was it a good idea to go to him? Was it a good idea to just let him deal with his first bout of regret? It wasn’t just regret though. He was confused and struggling to understand it all. Sighing, you walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his burly shoulder. Immediately, John stopped moving and turned to you with tortured eyes. This was hard enough, you thought. You didn’t want to make it harder or make him go through it alone like you had. A full minute passed before he was fully turned to you and stepping closer. When he didn’t stop, you backed away. He followed.

 “Why—why did you—that night?”

 His broken question was something you hadn’t expected. You knew what he was asking. Your back pressed against the wall—nowhere else to go. Resigning to your fate, you spoke.

 “I—I wanted you. I desired you. I wanted to touch you, to—have you.”

 John’s eyes sparked to life, and he closed the last remaining bit of space between you. You could feel his hardness pressing into your abdomen. He too wanted. John looked down between your bodies.

 “This is the third time tonight this has happened to me. The first standing just outside your door as I heard you moaning my name over and over saying you want me inside of you.”

 Your belly fell. He’d heard you.

 “The second at the tower and right now. This has happened so many times since that night with you. As I tried to sleep, took a shower, saw you sparring with Kai or Riz, you in your skivs while changing, and almost every waking moment in between. It was torture—the heat, the ache, the erraticness. I didn’t understand why or what was happening, but I understand now.”

 His face was so close, all you had to do was tip your tongue out and you would taste his lips. You didn’t, though. You wanted to hear his deduction. Everyone spoke highly of master chief’s tactical intelligence, raved about it really. Halsey even gloated about his overall intelligence claiming she’s made the perfect specimen both in physicality and mentality. You didn’t doubt his intelligence, not one bit. You knew John was smart and deserved the constant praise, however, you  wondered how much of it was enhancements and pellet and how much was the man himself.

 “What do you understand, John?”

 When you said his name, another spark behind his irises caught your attention. His hips lunged into you sending his erection into your abdomen again. This time you couldn’t help but moan.

 “You affect me. You always have, from the very beginning. You make me want.” His voice was raspy but certain.

 “Want what?”

 John’s eyes held you where you were.

 “You. So much of you so much from you. I—Y/N—I--.”

 Deciding to say fuck it all you crashed your lips to his and took control. Although you both had no experience you at least had an inkling more than him. His instant reaction to your lips on his was what made you wrap your arms around his neck. He kissed you back without hesitation and without any control. There was no sense in how his lips moved against yours, no organization, just plain need.

 John’s hands that were plastered on the wall, caging you in, were now on your hips, squeezing you. it almost hurt—almost. Moaning on his mouth, you brought your hands to his head and held his head in place. Abandoning your hips, John lifted you with such ease your desire flooded your panties because of it. You wanted him badly and you doubted you cared if it were here against the wall or on the floor or the across the table. It didn’t matter.

 As if hearing your thoughts, John pressed your back to the wall, grinding his hardness into you. Before you could pull from him, his mouth broke the kiss and exclaimed out in a mixture of bass and squeak. His eyes were on yours, studying you, looking for something.

 “What John?”

 “You want this?”

 This could have meant his cock or this moment, whatever he meant you nodded—vigorously and felt no shame. His hips surged forward again and both of you exclaimed this time.

 “Do you?”

 John’s eyes dropped to your lips, and it was him who kissed you this time. It was soft, slow, searching and then he slipped his tongue into your mouth, and it was like he became an entirely different man than the one who was lost and innocent minutes ago. His groan echoed in your domicile, and it was more animal than man. He released you then spun you around pushing you into the wall as soon as your feet touched the floor. From there John kissed your neck, then brought his mouth to your ear where he licked the shell then nibbled on it. All the while he ground his hips sending his length on your ass.

 “Uuugh, Y/N.”

 You weren’t used to him sounding so vulnerable, so needy. Hearing him like this snapped something inside of you like a rubber band. You reached behind you and cupped his manhood. Again, John groaned. As you felt him through his pants it felt as if he hardened even more.

 “Pl—pl--,” he stuttered.

 You continued your ministrations adding a little more pressure. His one hand on the wall balled into a fist that pounded onto the wall creating a noticeable dent.

 “Pl—please.”

 A devilish smile teased your lips but when you felt his other hand squeeze your hip you knew the time for teasing or dominance games was gone. You quickly began undoing his pants, desperately needing to feel the heat from his skin. Within seconds, you’d managed to free him. The blazing rod that laid across the swell of your ass felt as if it were branding you, melting your skin, claiming you as his. You peeped back and found John’s eyes glued to where his appendage touched you.

 “Beautiful.”

 “I need—need--.”

 You knew what he needed; it was the same as what you needed. With the same haste, you undid your leather like pants and urgently pushed them off your hips. The motion of you shimmying your hips from side to side while trying to get your pants low enough, bobbed his heavy cock on your ass and every move made him swear and squeeze your hip harder. Pressing your cheek to the wall, you moaned.

 “Do you remember what to do?”

 “I know what to do.”

 You bent forward a little as he adjusted his stance behind you, lining himself up correctly. You waited and waited and though it felt like an eternity, it really was mere seconds before you felt master chief petty officer John 117 thrust into you with such force that sent your cheek pressing further into the wall while making your neck bend backward. Both of you shouted out in unison. He filled you so perfectly, so completely. Part of you hummed with a feeling of finally—complete resonance; while the other part said you couldn’t take anymore and raged. John must have sensed the need for balance and remained perfectly still though the hand on the wall said he wanted to do the opposite.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 Slowly, your body adjusted to the size and feel of him, slowly it accepted him. It marveled you that your body hadn’t reacted this way to him before. Whenever you thought about that first night, your body was greedy. Tonight, it was cautious. What was different? You glanced the way his hand trembled and knew he what to do. Moving your ass in a small circle you sent his cock rotating inside of you and John’s fist flattening on the wall. You did it again and his other hand joined the wall, bracing it or himself.

 Again, you looked to him, but his head was hanging backward, eyes pinched closed, neck tight and threaded with veins. He didn’t look like he was breathing. The more you circled on him the more he swelled within you, but your body didn’t scream in rejection, no your body aided his girth rewarding your efforts with wetness. A whine escaped your throat, and you knew it was a sound you’d made for the first time. John knew it too. His hands left the wall and gripped your hips and just like that whatever little control he was desperately gripping to vanished.

 John slowly retreated from your body and your greedy core protested and tried to suck him back in but failed. Every suction made John grunt and groan.

 “Fuck!”

 He didn’t retreat fully before he slammed right back into you.

 “Aah!”

 This time he retreated halfway then repeated the action. It garnered the same reaction, a half shouting moan. With each slow and steady withdrawal came a bruising and forceful snap forward of his hips that sent the most delicious and complex feeling of pleasure and pain through you and sounds you’d never made before from your throat. Soon, John sped his thrusts, but they were no longer steady. You could feel his body shaking, feel the sporadic spasms of his muscles and his cock as it lodged deeper and deeper into your body.

 He stuttered your name over and over then that stutter disappeared, turning into chaotic and gravely grunts of your name. Soon, he had your entire body pressed against the wall with you haphazardly on your tiptoes trying not to allow him to impale you and fuck you into oblivion no matter how much part of you wanted just that. The sounds in your domicile sounded animalistic, crass, and violent.

 From your combined moans, grunts and shouts, to your hands hitting the wall each time his cock collided with some secret place inside of you that sent goosebumps across your skin and your flesh rubbing and slapping together. If anyone heard it they would probably think foul play, but you didn’t care. They could have barged inside and became your audience for all you cared. Right now all you wanted was to feel this large man inside of you, filling you to capacity and making you scream in ways you’d never screamed before.

 John grunted loudly, punched the wall once, then twice, in sync with the thrust of his hips. On the third plunge, you saw stars and by the fourth, your knees gave out, toes numbed, and voice went soprano, but John was there holding you up with one strong arm to deliver one final thrust before you felt him spilling inside of you. His body convulsed against yours as he shuddered into your ear before hissing. Your panting turned to mewls and neither of you could move from where you were. John rested his chin on your shoulder and tried to catch his breath the same as you.

 “Was—Was that fast?”

 His question barely registered. This feeling was still something you hadn’t gotten used to and didn’t know how to process. It was different when you were alone and exploring your own body then with him. With him it was always close to—too much. You wondered if he felt that too.

 “Fast?”

 “The first time felt longer in my memory.”

 You snorted because he was right. Now comparing the two this was quicker.

 “It’s okay, John.”

 “I—I—I’m—sorry.”

 Those words made you angle your head back a little to see his face. His forehead glistened with sweat that now rolled down his temples and sides of his face. A chaotic look was in his eyes but you also so insecurity. Was he ashamed? Moving for the first time in long minutes your legs tingled when they touched the floor and you doubted they possesed the strength to be used but you fought through it. John allowed you to take more control of your body and rose to full height.

 The new space allowed you to pull from him. With another hiss, John slipped from between your folds and the feel of the emptiness made you frown. Turning to him the glistening part of him that had just been inside of you caught your eye and mesmerized you. His seed dripped from the still swollen and now aggressively red tip onto the floor and the angry veins throbbing just below his flesh made your breath hitch. He was still hard. Shaking your head, you met his eyes.

 “Wh—why are you sorry?”

 His eyes dropped from yours, but you cupped his chin making him look at you again.

 “At me John.”

 “Something in me tells me it shouldn’t be fast.”

 A small smile tickled your lips. He was adorable. You wrapped your arms around his neck pressing your body against his and his automatic response was to moan, sigh and wrap his arms around you right back. Your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest.

 “It’s okay. This is new. You need practice.”

 John’s eyes darkened and you knew he grasped your meaning.

 “Practice.”

 You nodded. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck and distracted you making you want to tip your tongue out to capture it. He smelled delicious and his lips tasted delicious. Why couldn’t that? It was an urge you couldn’t fight, so you didn’t. Leaning into him, you tipped your tongue out and licked up his neck to his earlobe, bit down then moaned. His cock immediately saluted you.

 “You didn’t become the master chief you are today without a little bit--,” you whispered, pausing to tip your tongue into the shallow part of his ear. Again, his cock begged for your attention. “Or a lot of practice,” you finished pressing more firmly against him. “Right?”

 Your eyes met and it was right this minute you saw the demon every foe did. Only the demon you saw was not evil or soulless. He was a daemon. He was just unbound, hungry and insatiable. Your belly did backflips thinking of the demon in battle joining you in your bed. You stepped back from him and walked around him with your pants still at your knees. John turned to watch you, his cock bobbing, begging, dripping. Tearing your eyes away from the captivating appendage, you bent and undid your boots before kicking them to opposite sides of the room. Next, you peeled your pants and underwear down the rest of the length of your legs and kicked those to the side too.

 John looked from your toes up your legs, eyes resting right at the apex of your thighs, the place he had just been and from the looks of his cock desperately wanted to return to. You allowed him however long he needed to satiate his gaze. When his eyes met yours again, a new feeling of insecurity washed over you. Rolling your shoulders back you shook it off.

 “What do you say master chief? Forward unto dawn?”

 His nose flared, jaw clenched, and mouth quirked to the side in a lopsided smirk that made you quiver. In seconds, he’d crossed to you ignoring his own pants circling his ankles and hoisted you into the air and against him. You wrapped your legs around him and moaned at the feel of his thickness nudging against your sore but wanting core.

 “Forward unto dawn,” he repeated just before his lips claimed yours.

 John kissed you passionately and walked without eyes as if he’d walked these halls before, as if he belonged here. Your moans melded together and with each passing second your bodies communicated—begging the other for something neither of your mouths could voice from lack of knowledge. When you felt the softness of your bed under your back, you began to wonder how you’d gotten here, but when he kissed you again and you felt his cock spasm against your slit you moaned and wondered how it had taken you this long to get here.

 “Y/N,” John moaned.

 From now on you knew this was the only way you wanted him to ever say your name—upon a moan.

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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

TagList:

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @caramara3 @violinchick @laurenstacy610 @pinheadbanger @morganas-pendragons @shar74nett @lialacleaf @laurenstacy610 @marvel-at-my-obsession @casually-dancing-fairy @beyourownkindofbeautiful @momobaby227 @chaneajoyyy @piscesgyalinit @amaraohara​ @117s-girl @xxdeankratosgirlxx​ @weirdodreamergirl​ 

#halo a masterchief collection #master chief #master chief fanfiction #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief x black reader #black fanfiction #halo fanfiction #halo tv series fanfiction #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic #unto dawn one shot #sunshine x grumpy #pablo schreiber fanfiction

[passionforfiction]

A Small Light | Official Trailer | National Geographic

I read Anne Frank's diary when I was in high school. I watched the black and white film adaptation around that time as well. There are many stories out there bringing to light the brave acts of kindness of people who fought Nazis by saving the lives of the people they persecuted. I didn't know much about Miep Gies, the young woman who helped hide the Frank family and the others in the annex. My mother asked me if I could find the series in Disney+ because she wanted to watch it and so I watched it with her. It is an 8 episode long series that kept us down on our seats, watching how these people risked their lives to keep other people alive. I know the series has some fictionalized elements, but still, I know that other people were working against the Nazis, putting their lives in danger to save people's lives. It really broke my heart to see these people hiding, hoping when we know that only Mr. Otto Frank was the only one that survived, but they got to live those two years. Miep gave them two years of love and precious moments and gave Mr. Frank a part of one of his daughters that helped him keep her alive in his heart and in the collective conscience of the world.

The series also gives us a look into her husband's contribution saving people's lives. They were a very brave couple.

It is an inspiring series to watch. We need to understand the past in order to read the red flags in the present and avoid repeating the cruel past.

#a small light #national geographic series #disney+ #anne frank #world war ii #bel powley #joe cole #amira casar #billie boullet #ashley brooke #liev schreiber #ian mcelhinney #sally messham #andy nyman #caroline catz #nicholas burns #rudi goodman #Youtube

[druckkugelschreiber]

Come full circle in my writing journey by realising publishing my stories gives me nothing (which I knew in the beginning in Theory but now that I publish regularly it really solidified), like yes the nice comments make me momentarily happy but publishing is an effort and in the niche fandoms I do publish it’s not like I get a lot of stuff back.

Which isn’t a complaint! I don’t mind shouting into a void I simply do not feel the need to do so. I’m always happy to write for myself but not always happy to put them out there as it doesn’t really give energy back to me simply as it is. Like I don’t think i‘d post more if I got more comments either. My brain simply doesn’t work well on external reward (ahhh the joys of the tism).

That said I got a really nice comment today so idk if I‘ll really stick to my plan of not posting any stories again once the Tigris series is done or not (I will not give up on my Tigris series it‘s my baby)

#Schreiber schreibt #creative writing #fanfiction #didn’t know that feeling burned out from publishing already edited fics was a thing #but here I am

[animationproclamations]

Who needs Batman and Robin when you can have Burns and Schreiber?

TV Guide, September 7, 1973.

#batman #superman #lassie #Jack Burns #Avery Schreiber #saturday morning cartoons

[sjweminem]

watching SVU is an extra shameful experience when you're like..extremely majorly attracted to the dude who's supposed to be....probably THE worst and most dangerous and depraved criminal in at least 3(?) seasons lmaoooooo

#in my lil hotel watching the fucking william lewis episodes w him burning his victims w cigarettes and hot metal like #brother i've done WAY worse to myself please feel free to come tie me up & do that to me :) i'll struggle if you want :) #it's all bc liev schreiber is like 6'4.....the gabe saportaness gets me

[sorenkingsley]

i’m listening to the daisy jones & the six audiobook, and my whole fucking heart ACHES.

#my entire SOUL BURNS #text: rambling #i'm on them performing on SNL AND BILLY FUCKING DUNNE... #the audiobook is fully cast and Pablo Schreiber as Billy.......

[kwebtv]

Our Place -  CBS  -  July 2 - September 3, 1967

Variety (10 episodes)

Summer Replacement for The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour

Running Time:  60 minutes

Featuring

Rowlf the Dog as Host

Jack Burns and Avery Schreiber

The Doodletown Pipers

#Our Place #TV #CBS #1960's #Variety #Rowlf #Jack Burns #Avery Schreiber #The Doodletown Pipers

[lostinaflashforward]

RECEFLASH | Halo - Stagione 1

Il nostro parere sulla prima stagione di Halo.

RECEFLASH STAGIONE 1

#halo #serie tv #sci-fi #avventura #pablo schreiber #natascha mcelhone #jen taylor #natasha culzac #olive gray #yerin ha #charlie murphy #bokeem woodbine #burn gorman #recensione #LIAFF: RECEFLASH

[oldshowbiz]

Burns and Schreiber open for Jane Morgan in Las Vegas.

#las vegas #jane morgan #jack burns #avery schreiber #burns and schreiber

[comediaclassicablog]

#Burns & Schreiber

[essektheylyss]

Open, non-exhaustive list of content I would read/watch in a heartbeat about the political situation in Rexxentrum post-Solstice:

One-shot or mini-arc of the Nein going full National Treasure level heist on the Cerberus Assembly records management department before a Ludinus simulacrum can reach the burn boxes

Faux Trump aide exposé-style novel of Athesias Uludan compiling and publishing The Dirt in the aftermath as part of his apology/comeback tour

Colville-run Dirty Dozen one-shot or EXU of Oliver Schreiber dragging some particularly unruly ex-Scourgers out of semi-retirement (read: house arrest) to take Ludinus out once and for all in exchange for full indemnity

Found documents a la Midst appendices of the Cobalt Soul documentation and evidence compiled about the incident

The Archmage: An Autobiography by Martinet Ludinus Da'leth (discovered and published posthumously) [1500 pages and riddled with exaggeration and inaccuracies, the last 20% has clearly been written by AI a simulacrum]

Lorekeeper rundown Youtube video from Dani Carr

Yet another novel: Wildemount's most (in)famous and (un)reliable documentarian smelled a story (Taryon's version)

Literally just a main campaign episode of the Nein infodumping to Allura at a war council meeting with the Hells present. I need this information so badly. I am fucking begging.

This sounds like it runs the gamut in level in terms of seriousness but I would like it stated for the record that I would unhinge my jaw to consume any item on this list.

#why do people run to creators for ship vindication when they COULD be out here asking for the most niche worldbuilding content #if there's one thing we learned from the midst ama it's that the people want the DEETS (about mundane civil processes and politics) #critical role #anyway lmao please note that i WILL write that athesias fic if I have to but that's just SPECULATIVE I want the DEETS #EVEN IF A LIAR IS RECOUNTING THEM I WANNA KNOW #anyway what you can really deduce from this list is that I want more CR novels of the most niche shit. will I get them? unlikely. alas. #I will continue to bang my pots and pans about it and write my silly fics regardless

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Let Me Help {10}**

Master Chief Pablo x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Mild cursing, Fluff, Plot, SMUT, NSFW, 18+ Content

Words: 2.5k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. After the failed mission on Eridanus Two and with the artifact gone, you and master chief are battered, and bloody. Healing is needed but neither of you can lose face or appear weak now.

Note: Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one-shots. They all can be read separately to understand but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts.  Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous: On Your Six*** | Feel Something | A Night Off | Apex Predators | Truth Be Told | Confess | Unto Dawn*** | Learn Me, Learn You*** | Conceal

~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t fail. He didn’t fail. The Spartans never failed. That was not what you were created for. Still, you’d done just that. The mission on Eridanus Two was a colossal failure according to Halsey and that was putting it kindly. She was furious. As she had each of you standing there, she railed into you about how important the mission was and listing off the many ways it was a complete fuck up. she then moved on to outlining who had fucked up with what. Riz, Kai and Vannak got the least of her rage. When it came to you and John however, that was where she unleased.

 It was then you found out about John nearly attacking her and Halsey attaching a failsafe device to the back of his head that incapacitated him. You had to fight every reflex to not bug your eyes upon hearing that. You wondered what in the world prompted him to do that. When she turned to you asking where you were through the whole attack you found you had no answers for her. You didn’t know what had happened. All you knew you felt the pulse heard the screeching and heard actual words in your head then passed out. The next thing you knew, you’d woken up in the middle of the fight. You couldn’t tell her that though. You saw how she treated John like a means to an end to acquiring the artifacts. You refused to be another pawn or tool for her.

 When she dismissed the others, she kept you and John then questioned him first about him disobeying a direct order to secure the artifact to save you. Then interrogated further to what he was thinking. You knew by her questions she suspected something was off with both of you. She didn’t know the full gist yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time. When John offered her no answers just a cold face and angry eyes you knew something had happened between them and looking at Halsey, she was slightly afraid.

 Because she could, both of you were sent into lock up for a few hours as punishment. Neither of you could speak to one another, remove your armors or seek medical attention. It was an added punishment. This wouldn’t be your first time in lock up, but you wondered if it would be your last.

 As you sat in the dark with your eyes closed, you played over everything that happened before the pulse took you out and before you passed out. You went over the screeching that somehow turned into coherent words. Words that began in a different language but came around to English. You even understood the language it originated in. You didn’t know what it was, but you understood it. You focused in and tried to focus on the message. It made no sense and the more you tried to stay with it the more your head hurt. As you got something a spike of pain ripped through your head then you tasted the strong coppery liquid that was your own blood in your mouth. You dabbed under your nose and found the source. As you wiped you repeated the piece of the message you got.

 “You will save us all.”

 ~~~~~~~~

 By the time you walked out of lock up the ache in you had intensified. Halsey knew that the longer you went without proper healing procedure the pain would be worse. This was done purposely. She was sending a message. You cause me problems; I cause you pain. Fuck up again and it will be worse. You’d only been in lock up for five or six hours when it could have been all night or days. You heard her message and planned on sending one right back.

 When you made it to the barracks the others were there. They approached you but you could barely move or breathe so you took your time.  

 “Halsey shouldn’t have sent you to lock up,” Kai said first.

 You stood as straight as you could.

 “I’m a big part of why the mission failed. I needed punishment.”

 You watched John’s blood caked jaw tick.

 “Are you all right?”

 You nodded.

 “Spartans at ease. Recoup and keep your ears to the ground.”

 They nodded then walked off. You and John stood there before each other. He was assessing you as much as you were him. The two of you looked a mess, bloodied, bruised and keeping on a brave face. You could almost laugh. Almost.

 “With me, Seargeant,” John said walking out of the barracks. His movements were slower but still controlled, nonetheless.

 You tried your best to mirror him and ignored your body screaming at you to stop. When he made the third turn, a left you knew where he was leading you. Before you, an elevator opened, and you stepped on. Both of you still stood tall knowing the feed was still running. After a silent two-minute ride you walked out. John entered his code into the touch pad outside the healing bay. Once inside he opened the panel and yanked out an orange wire. If you guessed right it was probably the power to any video for the sector.

 “Aren’t you a real rebel, master chief?”

 He turned to you then crossed the room grabbing your arms. You hissed then winced from the action. He sighed.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “No worries, you should see the other guys.”

 He scoffed and shook his head. “I did.”

 You lifted your arm and pressed one of the buttons at your neck and piece of the armer opened.

 “Here, let me help,” he offered lifting off the piece of your armor that attached to your chest and back.

 He dropped it to the ground not caring if it were worth billions. He then moved to the attachments on your arms. You tried not to wince or groan too much as he removed them piece by piece. When he got to your lower half, you couldn’t hold in your whimpers any longer.

 “It’s okay, Y/N. You’re safe with me.”

 He knew you didn’t want to appear weak in front of anyone including him. He was giving you his assurance it was safe to be vulnerable with him. You were safe with him. When he took the rest of the metal off, you groaned. Though you almost toppled over you remained upright.  

 “Your turn,” you said slowly reaching for the button by his neck.

 For the next few minutes, you took off his armor in the same way he’d done for you—piece by piece, bit by bit. As you did, he didn’t release one groan or grimace. You wondered if he felt anything. When he was free of the metal and only in the one piece as you, you slowly moved to his back and unzipped the suit. Upon the first sight of his flesh, you hissed. He was red and purple everywhere.

 “Gods,” you whispered as you traced your fingertips over his injured body.

 “It’s not so bad.”

 “No? Cause you look like you are on the brink of death.”

 You peeled the suit off him leaving him bare before you. There was not one inch of skin that was not bruised or bloody. John turned to face you and your eyes scanned his well defined chest and took in the damage there. He’d been through hell tenfold.

 “Your turn.”

 “Even if I look like you?”

 John gently clasped your shoulders and turned you around so your back faced him. You then felt his heat at your ear.

 “You’re safe with me,” he whispered.

 You stood there and allowed him to undo your suit and peel it off of your frame. When it was at your feet you felt his body press to yours and his arms wrap around your abdomen. His touch was so gentle, so soft. There was no way this was the same man who’d stepped his boot through the skull of a covenant drone hours ago. They were so different, so majorly different.

 “I don’t think I’ve felt fear until today,” he whispered against your ear.

 “When you didn’t answer my call, I was scared. When I saw your body fly through the air and over the cliff I was terrified. When you weren’t moving I--.”

 You heard him swallow, it sounded like a gulp.

 “Then you being beamed--.”

 You turned to him and pressed yourself to his body.

 “I know. I felt my heart in my throat when that creature was running for you. I had to do something. I was scared too.”

 You stared at each other both using your eyes to communicate in ways your words wouldn’t achieve. John’s hand came to your jaw, and he wiped at the dried blood under your nose. Without words he led you back toward the healing bed. As you approached, it illuminated and filled with the high tech, nano inspired gel that would work its magic. John dipped his hand into then raised it. His hand was coated with the blue gel that looked like it was alive and radioactive. He gently swiped his hand against your forehead, your brow, corner of your eye, your jaw, nose, and lip. The gel was cold but instantly you felt cool relief. It would take hours to heal you completely, but surface injuries would be gone in minutes.

 His eyes bored into you and you could feel what he felt. This mission had revealed plenty to you. One, you desired more than his body, wanted more than his touch. Two, whatever was happening between the two of you was more than likely mutual and just as confusing to him as it was to you. Three, this was more dangerous than either of you had previously thought. Four, There was no way to contain it. He’d disobeyed orders and put you before it all. You’d ignored mission objective and released the artifact rather than remaining with it to possibly help later. You’d chosen him over all of it.

 John leaned to you and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back enjoying the feel of him. You didn’t know if the coppery taste in your mouth was his blood or yours and you didn’t care. Not right now. The kiss became more and more heated until your arms were wrapped around each other. You both moved to the center of the table and lied on your sides facing one another.

Acquiring DNA.

 The compute ran diagnostics then spoke again.

 Error, two different DNA found.

 “Proceed,” John ordered.

 Error. One pod per specimen.

 “Override,” John added.

 Authority of--

 “Master Chief Petty Officer John-117.”

 Confirmed. Welcome Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 and Seargeant Second Class Y/N-144. Stand by, assessing injuries.

 You and John continued to stare at one another. He was tracing small circled just on your shoulder while you roamed your finger tips across his chest.

 Extensive injuries detected. Estimated cryo-thermo healing time three hours. Proceed?

 “Proceed.”

 Your lips met again, and the table filled with the gel. Soon, your bodies were submerged in the substance leaving your heads elevated above the surface.

 Pod enclosure initiating.

 John turned your body so your back was to his chest and he was pressed against you. You felt safe in his arms—safe with him. John kissed a path along your ear then snagged your lobe between his teeth. You moaned and snuggled closer to him. The pod closed then and the gel became a lot colder. You winched hating this part.

 “I have you.”

 You felt his hand slid down the side of your body until he reached your thigh. He lifted slightly then, and you felt his appendage seconds before he joined your bodies. You sighed then groaned. Your body was taken over by the pleasure he gave rather than the extreme cold of the cryopod. John’s moan was heady.

 “I have you,” he repeated as he slowly rocked into your body.

 With every buck of his hips, he groaned. You were impressed. You knew he was as injured as you but still had it in him. Unlike your other couplings this one was slow, and steady. It almost felt therapeutic like an entire body massage. You could feel the gel and the nanotech working. slowly your aches ached less, your muscles tensed less, and your soreness faded. You weren’t sure if John deserved most of the praise there. As he worked in and out of your body from behind you his hands caressed your skin, massaged your breasts, tweaked your nipples and even circled your greedy bud. His hands created war and pleasure and his words soothed deeper wounds. Every word he muttered and whispered against your ear and into your neck made your heart race.

 By the time the gel in the pod turned warm you knew half the cycle was complete and by that time you felt you could move. You turned in his arms breaking the joining of your bodies then slipped on top of him. While the pod wasn’t small it wasn’t large enough for you to raise to your full seated height, so you were hunched over with your body still pressed to his. The way he looked at you only made your heart lurch against your chest harder. The way he fit inside of you felt too good, too right. As you rocked against him, your body easily glided against his and made your movements even more sensual. John groaned and moaned all between repeating your name over and over.

 You felt his body tense but in seconds, you were on your side again with him between your legs rocking back and forth. His eyes were glazed and before his lips met yours, he muttered.

 “Mine.”

 You clung to him holding on as if your life depended on it. It hit you then and there you didn’t want to lose him either, you couldn’t.

 Not now and not ever.

 “Yours”, you whispered as your pleasure climbed.

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

TagList:

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @caramara3 @violinchick @laurenstacy610 @pinheadbanger @morganas-pendragons @shar74nett @lialacleaf @laurenstacy610 @marvel-at-my-obsession @casually-dancing-fairy @beyourownkindofbeautiful @momobaby227 @chaneajoyyy @piscesgyalinit @amaraohara​ @117s-girl​ @xxdeankratosgirlxx​ @weirdodreamergirl​ @keytodespair

#halo a masterchief collection #halo tv series fanfiction #halo fanfiction #let me help one shot #master chief fanfiction #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief x black reader #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic #sunshine x grumpy #pablo schreiber fanfiction #black fanfiction

[transhuman-priestess]

Happy demon core day!

From the above wikipedia entry:

On 21 May 1946, with seven colleagues watching, Slotin performed an experiment that involved the creation of one of the first steps of a fission reaction by placing two half-spheres of beryllium (a neutron reflector) around a 3.5-inch-diameter (89 mm) plutonium core. The experiment used the same 6.2-kilogram (13.7 lb) plutonium core that had irradiated Daghlian, later called the "demon core" for its role in the two accidents. Slotin grasped the upper 228.6 mm (9-inch) beryllium hemisphere[17] with his left hand through a thumb hole at the top while he maintained the separation of the half-spheres using the blade of a screwdriver with his right hand, having removed the shims normally used. Using a screwdriver was not a normal part of the experimental protocol.[2][13]

At 3:20 p.m., the screwdriver slipped and the upper beryllium hemisphere fell, causing a "prompt critical" reaction and a burst of hard radiation.[9] At the time, the scientists in the room observed the blue glow of air ionization and felt a heat wave. Slotin experienced a sour taste in his mouth and an intense burning sensation in his left hand. He jerked his left hand upward, lifting the upper beryllium hemisphere, and dropped it to the floor, ending the reaction. He had already been exposed to a lethal dose of neutron radiation.[2] At the time of the accident, dosimetry badges were in a locked box about 100 feet (30 m) from where the reaction occurred. Realizing that no one in the room had their film badges on, "immediately after the accident Dr. Slotin asked Dr. Raemer E. Schreiber to have the badges taken from the lead box and placed on the critical assembly".[17] This peculiar response was of no value for determining the actual doses received by the men in the room and put Schreiber at "great personal risk" of additional exposure. A report later concluded that a heavy dose of radiation may produce vertigo and can leave a person "in no condition for rational behavior."[17] As soon as Slotin left the building he vomited, a common reaction from exposure to extremely intense ionizing radiation. Slotin's colleagues rushed him to the hospital, but the radiation damage was irreversible.[2]

#demon core #ivy's nuclear tag