#tracklight

[themutantunderground]

Dragonriders of Pern AU for Thunderblink. Gold rider Clarice and bronze rider John as weyrleaders with a side of Eclaris and a bit of Tracklight. Dragons and Thread and danger and intrigue and dun dun DUUUUUN!!

[jyinspiration]

via :

http://www.belkin.com/us/F7U003-Belkin/p/P-F7U003/

[themutantunderground]

Ughhhh, I’m trying to write Thunderblink fanfics, but all this on-screen drama is killing my muse. I need to push past it!!! Maybe I should try Holiday/Winter/Christmas prompts/asks?? I don’t know, I just need something to get me out of this slump...

[themutantunderground]

Either Proudstar (or both) giving wing hugs. Because who needs words when you can just wrap someone up in your wings?

Wings AU!!! :D I might turn this into a long fic…

Ao3

James’ pacing was starting to get on John’s nerves. Hisbrother was walking on top of the railing line of the cabin’s wraparound, goingfrom one corner to the other and back again. Any time his near-perfect balancestarted to waver, his wings would unfold until he was steady again. Even if thepacing was doing something to distract James, it was making John antsier thanhe already was. He shifted on the bench near the door, his own wings rustling.

“Can you get down from there.”

James shot him a glare and kept going. He was going toget splinters. John narrowed his eyes as James rounded the corner, bare feetstepping on the old rough wood. They needed to replace the railing. The wholeporch needed to be redone, but it was low down on the list of things theyneeded to fix at the safehouse.

Long, quiet moments passed. A breeze drifted through thetrees, brushing through the red and orange leaves that autumn had brought totheir mountain.

“What time is it?” James demanded.

John glanced at his silent phone. “It’s only been tenminutes since the last time I checked.”

“Try calling them again.”

“Calling might be the wrong thing to do,” John countered,trying to crush down his own growing anxiety and stay calm. “If they forgot toput their phone on silent and they’re hiding—”

James jumped down from the railing, his wings unfurlingand then settling back into place as he stomped toward John. “Give it to me,I’ll do it.”

John slid the phone back into his pocket. He hadjust explained exactly why they shouldn’t call. It could potentially putClarice and Ali in danger, if they weren’t already. John would rather believethey had taken the long way home and forgotten to call.

James’ face contorted. “I’ll get mine, then.” He turnedto go into the house, but John’s hand darted out and snagged his arm.

“I’m worried, too,” John said, “But I think we shouldtrust them.”

“They missed the check-in,” James said. He jerked his armout of John’s grasp. “That means we go after them.”

Clarice and Ali had left that morning on a supply run tothe local town. There was a church there that helped their group by giving themfood and medical supplies, and the two of them had volunteered for the run.They had taken off with a couple backpacks between them and promises to callaround twelve that afternoon.

They hadn’t.

“They’re only fifteen minutes late,” John countered, “We’resupposed to wait thirty before we go after them. We all agreed on that.”

James’ wings flared out, forcing John to take a step backif he didn’t want to be whacked by russet-and-black feathers. “I’mun-agreeing.”

“That’s—” John shook his head, deciding not to correcthis brother seeing how it was probably intentional, knowing James. “Just givethem a little longer, okay?”

James looked like he was about to turn around and launchhimself off the porch, maybe tackling John in the process. Instead, he steppedout of John’s reach and shoved his hands back through his hair, closing hiseyes. He hated not acting even more than John, and his level of patience wouldn’thold for long.

Finally, he jerked a nod and stomped back over to acorner of the porch where he climbed back onto the railing. He sat down on thecorner, his wings coming up the wrap around his own shoulders as he scanned thesky for any sign of Ali and Clarice.

John sighed. He understood how James was feeling, but healso knew how Clarice and Ali would feel if they came after them too early. Thetime limit was there to keep people safe, even if he didn’t like it now thatClarice was the one out there…

He ran his hand over his face and walked over to the railing.Grabbing the worn wood, he looked up as well. It was a grey afternoon, the threatof rain hanging over them. Out in the valley, it was raining already. It waspossible they had gotten caught in the storm and had to take shelter.

Ten more minutes past by at a crawl. James began to dighis fingers into the wood, almost making it crack under the pressure of hisgrip. Deep breaths kept John steady. He couldn’t lose his head. 

He was about to suggest leaving when he heard somethingdown below, in the forest. A flash of grey, then a bit of blue. A tired laughbubbled out from the fiery leaves, one that he recognized. In a moment, hestepped up on the bench then the railing and then dropped down to the ground,his enormous wings slowing his fall. He was almost at the edge of the forestwhen Clarice stepped out from the trees, looking muddy and exhausted butunharmed. Ali appeared behind her, blond and pink hair escaping from the beanieshe was wearing, smudges of dirt on her face.

“Hey, handsome,” Clarice said, a half-smile on her face, “Wehad a bit of a detour.”

“No, really,” John said, reaching for her. They were bothforced to duck, however, when James came soaring over them, landing directly infront of Ali. He practically barreled into the blonde, wrapping his arms aroundher and enveloping her in his wings. It was impossible to see her, hidden byJames’ wings, his chin resting on top of her head.

“We weren’t that late, were we?” Clarice asked, glancingat John.

“Well, someone wanted to track you down the moment youdidn’t call,” John said. He finally caught Clarice by the arm, his hand slidingdown to catch hers. He drew her to him and rested his hands on her waist.

“And you want me to believe that someone wasn’t you?”Clarice smirked.

John brought his wings up, surrounding her and closingout the rest of the world. He grinned back at her. “Maybe. But I’m not the onewho voiced it. So technically, no, it wasn’t me.” He drew her closer and tightenedthe circle of his wings, covering her striking grey, black, and white wings withhis own golden and cream pair.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Clarice teased. She reached out and brushedher hand along his cheek. “I’m sorry we freaked you out. There was a drone, andthis one was weaponized. Fun, right? We thought it’d be safer to hike back andthen we forgot to call.”

John frowned and narrowed his eyes as he looked her overfor injuries again. “Did you—”

She shook her head and touched his chin, making him raisehis head. “I didn’t get shot and neither did Ali. But it’s something we’regoing to need to be aware of, in the future.”

Yet another thing to worry about. He’d add it to the list. Leaning down, hebrushed a kiss against her temple. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Clarice smiled. “I’ve got something that will make youeven happier.” He dropped his wings as she unlocked the backpack from her backand lowered it to the ground. She fished around in it for a minute and then broughtout a package that made John laugh.

“Only you,” he said, reaching out to take the coveted bagof Doritos from her. His favorite, Cool Ranch. “Yeah, this is way better than you not getting shot.”

“See, I told you.”

Hedropped the Doritos so he could grab her and pull her in for a proper ‘welcome home’kiss.

[themutantunderground]

Don’t Go

James and Ali spar sometimes in the Resistance AU, and usually it goes really well. This is one of the few times it did not.

I liked this prompt so much it became pretty long! James and Ali are seventeen and dating here. Poor James, this was a total and complete accident...

55 - “Could you forget about the “leave me alone” part and focus on the “I love you” instead?”

AO3

“How long are you planning to keep this up?”

James didn’t look up from the guts of his motorcycle, the pieces spread out on the concrete floor around him. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted everyone to leave him alone in the garage and for them to stay out unless they needed a vehicle. And if they needed a vehicle, they needed to not talk to him while they went to get it.

“James.” John’s voice was stern this time, less understanding, firmer. “Clarice is calling this a self-imposed exile. Whatever it is, it isn’t healthy.”

“I’m working,” James replied, picking up an intake valve, “It’s not an exile. She’s exaggerating.” He waved a hand at around the room that was still technically attached to HQ, indicating that he hadn’t really gone anywhere. You couldn’t be in exile if you never left home, right?

“Really.” John walked over to the camping cot that James had set up in the corner and sat down on the edge. “Because sleeping in here isn’t weird or out of the ordinary.”

James struggled to not close his hand around the intake valve and crush it. “Don’t lecture me, okay? I’m not in the mood for you to go all wise older brother on me right now.” He grabbed a wrench and pretended to focus on the motorcycle when all he could really think about was how much he wanted John to leave. If he was telekinetic, he would’ve lifted John and floated him right out the door.

“Ali thinks it’s her fault you’re doing this.”

That made James jerk his head up, eyes widening. “Go tell her it’s not.”

“I’ve tried,” John said, frowning at him, “So have Clarice and Marcos, but she needs to hear it from you.”

That familiar guilt fretted at James gut, gnawing at his stomach at the thought of talking to Ali. “I’ll...text her.”

“She’s literally fifty feet away, and you can’t just go talk to her?” John said, incredulous. He stood up and scrubbed at his face with one hand before walking toward James. “Come on,” he said as he crouched down next to James, “You have to stop punishing yourself. It was an accident, and you’re starting to punish her, too.”

Yeah, it had been an accident, but it was an accident with serious consequences. And James wasn’t going to forget the brief disappointed shock that had been in John’s eyes that day any time soon, though that paled in comparison to the pain in Ali’s…. James scowled as he looked at John. “If you put an understanding hand on my shoulder, we’re going to have a problem.”

John rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because there’s no way I’d understand where you’re coming from, right?”

James stood up and stormed over to the tool cabinet. He grabbed a wrench, examined it, and then tossed it back into the pile before picking up another one. No, John didn’t understand because John had never physically hurt Clarice. So it was different. He didn’t get it. “Are we done yet?”

John got up and crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Well, I am.” James headed for the door, intending to leave, to get out of here, because if John was going to invade his space, James wasn’t going to put up with it. He was seventeen now, he wasn’t a kid, he didn’t need a lecture. And he couldn’t deal with John’s sympathy, either.

“Hey, no,” John came after him, and James sped up, but having to stop to open the door gave John the chance he needed to catch up. John grabbed his arm and turned him around. “James, you need to stop.”

James glared at his older brother, his muscles tensing. “Get. Off.”

John sighed and let go. “No one is mad at you except yourself. You have to move past this—”

James yanked the door and slammed it against John’s words, driving it into the frame so hard that it crumpled at the top. Shit. Shit. Frustrated, he shouted wordlessly at the air and then took off toward the woods at a flat run, determined to get away from John and his infuriating patience. He didn’t deserve understanding or sympathy or patience, and he much rather would’ve preferred being yelled at.

He ran for an hour, taking barely-there deer paths and racing along a creek and then backtracking his way to HQ. No matter how much he ran, he couldn’t avoid the guilt that kept eating at him. He slowed to a walk as the sounds of HQ trickled into the forest, clashing with the quiet sounds of wildlife and the breeze against the dead winter leaves. He didn’t feel like going back just yet, so he sat down against a tree, pulled his legs to his chest, and hoped John didn’t come after him.

Instead, it was Clarice. He heard her a long time before he saw her, her usual Converses noisy against the forest floor. She walked toward him, paused, and then tossed a plastic grocery bag at him. The smell of turkey and mustard drifted up from it before he even opened it, and there was a bag of chips and a water bottle in there too.

“You skipped lunch. And breakfast.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, tearing into the bag of chips.

“Don’t mention it,” Clarice said. She sat down cross-legged across from him, her hands dangling in her lap.

James cast a wary glance at her as he ate. She was going to lecture him, too, but Clarice was sometimes less direct about it than John. She sometimes launched into an inspirational talking-to, but sometimes it was a story. He wondered what it was going to be this time.

But she didn’t say anything. She took a sip from her own water bottle and then flopped backward onto the forest floor, looking up at the bare limbs of the tree James was leaning against.

The silence stretched on, and James guessed she was trying to make him talk. Let him get all uncomfortable with how quiet it was, forcing him to say something, defend himself. She was going to be disappointed. He frowned at her as she put her arms behind her head, crossing her legs at the ankle, still looking up at the sky. Hesitantly, he picked up the sandwich and started in on that too.

When he was finishing off the water bottle, Clarice rolled over and got to her feet. She pulled a leaf out of her hair. “Here, give me all that,” she said, gesturing to the trash.

James stared at her then gathered up everything and tucking it into the grocery bag. “I can take it back.”

“I’ve got it,” she said. She nabbed the bag and looped it around her wrist. “Don’t stay out here too long, okay?”

James nodded. “Yeah. I won’t.”

Clarice gave him a half-smile. “I mean it. And move out of the garage and back into the bank while you’re at it. You’re freaking your brother out, which means he’s fussing and driving me crazy.”

And there it was. James shrugged, not committing to anything. He didn’t mind staying out in the garage, it was quiet out there and he could be by himself. He could think in the garage.

Clarice leaned over and gently flicked him on the forehead. “I think you’ve beaten yourself up enough. Just my opinion though. Then again, I know a lot about being yourself up, so it's a well-informed opinion.”

James watched her walk away, the plastic bag swinging from her wrist. He shoved his hands through his hair and stretched his legs out, pushing through half-rotted leaves and twigs. They didn’t get it. None of them did, they didn’t have to live with that sound in their ears.

After another hour or so, he headed back to HQ, making his way toward the garage. He stopped when he caught a familiar scent on the wind, guitar wood and jasmine, and heard the sound of Ali breathing, but before he could turn away, she came around the corner of the building.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” She said, putting her hands up. “Don’t go anywhere.”

James looked at the ground, grinding one foot into the dirt, avoiding looking at her face or meeting her eyes.

“James, please.”

He glanced up and immediately wished he hadn’t. The sight of the black and purple bruises ringing Ali’s right eye made him feel sick all over again. He took a step back, wanting to escape, but she darted toward him, surprising him into staying still.

“Don’t,” she said again, voice laced with desperation, “I gave you your space, I thought it’d help, but I can’t—” She made a frustrated noise and shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket. “I can’t just stay away any more and let you wallow in guilt like this. I told you, I’m not mad, but I’m going to be if you keep this up.”

James gritted his teeth. “Leave me alone, Ali.” He started to walk past her, but she grabbed his arm, wrapping both hands around his bicep as he pulled away. He froze.

“Please,” she said, “I hate this.” She lowered her head, her blond and pink hair drifting into her face, a temptation for him to brush it back behind her ear. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Ali, I broke your nose,” he said quietly, pain in each word, “I gave you a black eye.”

“And you never meant to, you would never do that on purpose,” she rushed to say, “Damn it, James, it was an accident. We were sparring, remember? You got startled, we both did, and I moved the wrong way, I practically rammed my face into your fist—”

“But you don’t have enhanced reflexes,” he said, “I do. I should’ve—” This time he did pull his arm away, and he turned from her, the memory flashing through his mind like it had for the past three days.

It shouldn’t have happened. He and Ali had been sparring in the space in front of HQ, both of them totally in sync, careful, in-the-moment like they usually were. As always, the goal was to not hit each other but come as close as possible. He could remember the way Ali had been grinning, the exercise making both of them near-giddy.

Then one of the kids that had been watching their match had decided to jump into the action and flew at them, a small flying torpedo. James saw the kid first and moved to catch her but Ali had stepped forward, and it had happened so fast. But the way his knuckles grazed her cheek, the crunch as his fist connected with her nose. He had pulled back as quick as he could, which was the only reason why it was a hairline fracture instead of a massive break. Still…

Ali had fallen to the ground while he caught the kid, and an instant later he was beside her, his hands shaking, nausea boiling in his stomach as his heart crawled into his throat. They had hurt each other before while they were sparring, but not—

Blood spilled down Ali’s face as she sat up, tears mixing in as she started crying. The kids on the steps started screaming, and that’s when James had scooped up Ali and carried her inside, yelling for John as loud as the kids were screaming.

“Should’ve what?” she asked, stepping toward him, “Been psychic? I’ve burned you before. With a laser.”

“Not that badly,” he said, frowning at her. “Ali, I love you and I hurt you. I think it’s pretty damn normal to feel like shit about that.”

“I get it,” she said, “But please, James, I don’t blame you. You would never...it…” She took a deep breath and he saw tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand knowing you’re torturing yourself about this. It was an accident.”

It was everything he had been afraid of when it came to his powers. He was always worried about hurting people, but hurting someone he loved? Hurting Ali? Even if it was an accident, he couldn’t afford accidents like that.

“Don’t cry, okay?” he said, “Come on, Ali…”

She darted toward him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his chest. He hesitated and then hugged her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. It felt so good to hold her again, to breathe in her comforting scent. “Could you forget about the ‘leave me alone part and focus on the ‘I love you’ instead?” she asked softly, “Because that’s what I’m focusing on. I love you too, James.”

“It’s not that easy,” he said, “I can’t forget it.”

“You…” She sighed and nuzzled against him. “Let’s try to move on with our lives? Can you start by moving back into your room?” She looked up at him, her fingers pressing into his back. “You smell like oil and gasoline.”

The first smile he had cracked in days made its way onto his face. “And that’s bad?”

“I’m just saying, the garage isn’t your bedroom.”

He made a noncommittal noise and nodded. “Fine. It’ll get John off my back, at least.”

“He’s just worried about you,” Ali said.

James hesitated and then very carefully squeezed her in a hug. “I know.”

“You know, we don’t have to spar again any time soon,” she said, “Not until you say it’s all right.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. He pulled back but took her hand, looking at her face for a long moment. “I’m so sorry, Alison.”

“It’s okay, James,” she said gently, her hand tightening around his fingers. She knew he would never, ever do something like that on purpose. It had never crossed her mind. She brought his hand up to her cheek and brushed his knuckles against her skin. “Really."

Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head and the two of them headed into the building, hand in hand.

[themutantunderground]

If anyone has any prompts for my Gifted Wings AU, where all the mutants have wings, toss them in my inbox! I’ll see if I can make them happen eventually.

The AU focuses on the Core Four (John, Clarice, Marcos, and Lorna) plus James Proudstar and Alison Blaire. Also my 2nd gen Proudstar and Dane-Diaz kids come into play eventually, so there’s that! The Struckers don’t really come into play here though, sorry!! But all the Thunderblink, Eclaris, And Tracklight goodness!! 😊

[themutantunderground]

As it's #PancakeTuesday 🥞 number 6 for ThunderBlink please 😊 (I don't mind if you'd rather do Eclaris or Tracklight though!)

#6 Who loves chocolate chip pancakes and who loves blueberry pancakes?

Oh my gosh, eee, I’m going to do all three then, mini-fic style!! Set in the Resistance AU. :D Thank you so much for this question!! Still taking questions from this list for mini-fics while I write longer prompts!

“What did you do, get in a fight with a bag of flour?”Lorna asked as she walked into HQ’s tiny kitchen, looking over at Marcos. Halfof his dark hair was powder white and there were splotches of white all overhis plaid shirt and jeans. Next to him, Ali hadn’t fared much better, and shewas glaring down at the pan on the stove as she flipped a pancake.

“Almost,” Marcos said, a big, slightly embarrassed smileon his face. “It’s pancake mix.” He gestured to the two piles of pancakesbeside the stove. “We have options.”

“We’re moving up in the world,” Clarice said from herspot at the table. She was working through a plate of chocolate chip pancakes, thewhole pile doused with chocolate syrup. “We actually have two whole choices.Whoa.”

“Would you like another pancake with your syrup?” Johnasked, glancing over at her plate.

“Your judgy eyes are unwanted,” Clarice said, pointing afork at him, “Just because you don’t know how to properly doctor a pancake–”

“I don’t like how you’re insinuating that the pancakesneed doctoring,” Ali put in from the stove, her lips pursed, “They’re not thatburnt.”

“It’s all right, Ali,” Clarice said with a grin, “This isjust the natural consequences of letting you two cook.”

“Hey, we’re not bad cooks–”

“And now you’re picking on our powers!”

Although they were protesting, it was a playfulatmosphere in the kitchen, some of HQ’s usual tension temporarily dissipated inthe face of pancakes.

“Which would you prefer, Lorna? Chocolate chip orblueberry?” Marcos asked, gesturing to the two overloaded plates. He grinned again,and something warm grew in her stomach. He was just so damn friendly, and itdrew her in like gravity.

She grabbed a paper plate and snagged a couple blueberrypancakes. “It’s too early in the morning for chocolate.”

“Right?” John said, nodding to her. Clarice leaned over, grabbedthe syrup bottle, and made an attempt to squirt chocolate syrup on his blueberrypancakes. John snagged her wrist and laughed as he held her at bay, moving hisplate away with his free hand.

“You’re missing out,” Marcos said, his eyes followingLorna as she sat down at the table, “Chocolate chip pancakes are where it’s at.”

“Or just plain chocolate pancakes, if you’re Clarice,”Ali said, a half-smile on her face.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Lorna said. She got a mugof black coffee and sat down at the table across from Clarice, watching the chocolatesyrup bottle cautiously until Clarice finally set it down.

Ali and Marcos sat down at the table to eat, taking ashort break before the rest of HQ woke up and wanted breakfast, too. Both ofthem picked chocolate chip pancakes, though Marcos went for regular syrup whileAli put a dollop of butter on hers. They were all talking about chores thatneeded to be done that day and how Marcos and Lorna were going out on a supplyrun and how Clarice and Ali were going to train together when James dragged inthe door, his hair messy, a grumpy zombie expression on his face. Heshuffled over to the table, bent down to bump his forehead against Ali’s head,his hand sliding across her shoulder, before he zombie-trudged over to thestove.

“Good morning to you, too, James,” John said.

“You’re such a ray of sunshine in the morning,” Clarice teased.John glanced at her and she tapped her foot against his under the table, meaninghe shouldn’t comment on how it had taken him ten minutes to drag her out oftheir bed that morning.

James ignored them both and poked at the pancakes. “What’swrong with them?”

“You can pick the blueberries out,” Ali said, “They camethat way.”

“Why didn’t you get Marcos to dig them out,” James said,casting a frown at Marcos.

“Eat around them,” Marcos said, rolling his eyes atJames.

“People shouldn’t put things in pancakes,” he grumbled, but he forked about six onto his plate.

[themutantunderground]

Heeey, welcome back! Number 8 for Thunderblink and Tracklight, please? If you doesn't have inspiration, just enjoy your free time and keep calm! We love you! :)

Thankyoooou, that’s super sweet!! ^_^ And oooooh my goodness, thanks for picking thisone!! :D

8.Who likes to play with the other’s hair?

Thunderblink

Thesunlight caught Clarice’s hair, making it glow in the sunset light. It was abrief quiet moment in their constantly busy lives, but they were sitting in theback of a beat-up pick-up truck, watching the sun drop behind the mountains.They were hunting for a new HQ, even a temporary one, but today’s search hadbeen a bust. Every lead they had tried today had been pointless.

Johntook a deep breath and tried not to dwell too much on his worry. Tomorrow wasgoing to be a whole new day full of time to devote to being anxious about findinga new HQ.

Claricesettled back against his chest, her hand resting on his knee. He reached up andstroked her hair, looping one purple lock around his finger.

“Youokay?” Clarice asked, “You’re being extra quiet.”

“Yeah,”he said, “Just thinking.”

“Youdo that an awful lot,” she teased, drumming her fingers on his kneecap. “Take abreak for five minutes, John. Just be here.”

Johnlooped an arm around Clarice and hugged her to him. Right now, for the next fiveminutes, he just wanted to sit here with Clarice and take a moment to breathe.Center himself. Prepare for tomorrow.

Tracklight

Jamesclosed his eyes as Ali combed her fingers through his hair, gathering it into aponytail before fluffing it out again. The tension in his shoulders was slowly startingto loosen up, but his muscles were still bunched up, itching for a fight. Thatasshole who had been harassing John about his leadership style earlier hadgotten under James’ skin even if John had been unfazed. James had been secondsaway from asking him if he wanted to go outside and ‘talk,’ but John hadstepped in and defused the situation. Sort of. The energy was still zingingthroughout James, which was when Ali had taken him by the hand and pulled himoff to their little corner of HQ.

Gently,she drew her fingers through his hair, toying with it, occasionally pulling itup into a ponytail or a bun. Every time she went to put it in a bun, he huffed,knowing she was teasing him. He didn’t wear buns often, mainly because Johnwore them and he dealt with being compared to John enough to not copy his hairstyle.Also, he had more hair than John, so any bun she put in his hair was enormous.He preferred low ponytails or just letting it loose.

Alipressed her fingertips against his forehead for a moment and then massaged histemples for a second before pressing a kiss to his head, her pink-streaked hairbrushing his shoulder. He leaned back against the couch and looped his handaround her ankle, letting go of a little more of his frustration.

Getting back into the groove with these OTP asks!