#(by not being an asshole cough cough cassius)

[cavennmalore]

question. if empaths take on the emotions of the person they’re reading and the sencens have incredibly strong abilities where they can feel strong emotions without touch, does that mean keefe and cassius are feeding off each others emotions when they fight? like cassius gets mad so keefe gets mad so cassius gets madder etc.?

[silverhandsamurai]

Chaos ♦ Johnny Silverhand/Fem!V ♦ Part I

Summary - AU; In a future where both Johnny and V manage to survive. Each with their own body. Just when things are finally hopeful fate throws them both back into hell and while this is happening the two of them are struggling to figure out their ever-changing relationship. In Night City things are always chaotic.

------------------------------

This is a multi chapter long story so hope everyone enjoys the ride ♥

chapter warnings; swearing & minor spoilers

-----------------------------

I didn't think it would be possible, but it happened...

A future where both Johnny and I lived - in separate bodies.

No one dying.

Just hope and a fresh start.

A few days before my set meeting with Hanako I got a random call. The name was unknown and the voice was even disguised all of it just screamed- suspicious, but I still answered. Johnny wasn't too happy about it and started going on a tirade.

Something along the lines of we haven't the time for dumb side bullshit and I was wasting my breath on it. Also that corporats were just scheming again.

Blah blah corpo hate crap blah blah big boy rocker bullshit...

Since that call Johnny didn't say anything anymore. Guess the asshole just couldn't admit I was actually right and he was wrong. His poor pride....

One thing lead to another and the mysterious caller was able to lead us to this ripperdoc from out of the country. This guy was all kinds of weird, but he was able to fix ol' Johnny boy and me up easy.

It...almost felt like a slap in the face how quickly the problem was resolved.

All that hell and trouble was just gone in an instant...

The biochip was taken out of my head without me dying and then placed into a perfect replica of Johnny's body. Only a few things were missing like his cybernetics and his tattoos.

The body was a soulless sleeve cloned from Johnny's DNA in a lab.

Yeah....and I thought shit couldn't get weirder and I still don't have any real answers for why Johnny's body was being cloned.

Don't know if I do want the answers honestly...

Once Johnny's biochip was jammed into his new body he and I were placed in a medical ward at a private location under watch by the weird ripperdoc and a few unseemly nurses.

It took Johnny a few days to get used to his body. He couldn’t walk properly or even talk. He was like a toddler stumbling around only able to communicate through throwing things and punching shit.

I learned true bliss during this time.

Johnny Silverhand, rendered completely silent. Sure it was against his will since he was just a bumbling babe that couldn’t talk yet. But after having said rockerboy in my head for weeks I appreciated the unintended mute button that was placed on him- yup that was true bliss. 

Watching him glare at me from across the room was enjoyable. The occasion middle fingers sent in my direction became a ritual greeting among us. I gladly returned each time to him.

While Johnny was in his training wheels stage with his new body. I on the other hand was literally going through my body becoming my own again. The ripperdoc didn't go into details only said my body was removing all traces of biochip's influence.

Mostly it meant I spent days in bed popping pills like candy as Johnny's tantrums lured me to sleep.

After a few weeks Johnny was fully transformed from an angry man toddler to his final true form - raging dickhead.

After his metamorphosis in true Silverhand fashion a few events occurred.

First - he decked the weird ripperdoc in his face and then marched off to Cassius to get his old tattoos again.

Second - went to the shadiest back alley ripper and had his arm cut off and replaced into his signature arm cybernetic.

He could have easily let Cassius fix his arm, but Johnny ranted about how overcharged the price was so of course, he sought out the cheapest unsafe option.

Third - he got piss ass drunk at Afterlife then got thrown out onto the streets shouting for a cigarette.

It was two in the morning when I got a message from Rogue to come and pick up my stray cat ...

While Johnny was off storming the streets in a blaze of hell after leaving the medical ward I was the opposite. Once I was freed to go I paid for the nicest hotel in the city and then I relaxed in a nice warm jacuzzi with a glass of my favorite booze.

After the chaos I had lived I deserved to pamper myself. I was free of my rockerboy brain tumor and life was looking bright again.

But I was naive to think I could go a day without hearing his name for even a few hours.

Once Johnny Silverhand pulls you into his orbit there is no escaping even if you wanted to.

Getting out of the car I felt my jaw lock anger slowly rising up into my veins as I made my way over to Johnny spread out on the ground waving his hand in the air and shouting for the bouncer at the back of Afterlife to get him a beer.

"What the fuck Johnny?"

Lifting himself slightly to glance at me the instant his eyes locked with mine that damn smirk of his danced across his face.

" So Rogue finally decided to call my babysitter shoulda fuckin' figured. Well since you are already here mind making yourself useful and getting me a smoke."

I took two deep breaths to calm myself and ran my hands down my face. Without a word, I spun on my heel and headed back to my car and I pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the glove box. I glared at the pack knowing that it was only there because Johnny snuck it in at some point in the past when he was in control of my body.

" Sneaky asshole. "

Closing the car door I marched over to Johnny and then threw the pack at his face making it smack hard into his head.

" Christ V, watch where you are aimin'!"

Nudging my boot into his side I crossed my arms and glared at him on the ground.

"Who says I didn't hit my target?"

Muttering curses as he set up Johnny took a cigarette out of the pack and then lit it before slowly standing up to full height. Closing the distance between us Johnny stopped just a few inches from me before leaning down to my level and blowing a long puff of smoke into my face.

" Real-fucking-charmer you are, V."

Not even coughing as the smoke dissipated my gaze remained locked with his as he stepped closer the burnt tip of the cigarette a hair away from my lips. I could feel the heat rolling off at it, but the only thing my attention was drawn to was the swirling emotions in Johnny's eyes as he glared back at me with full force.

" I aim to please, Johnny . "

---------------------------------------

I've been binge playing Cyberpunk since release and I've been wanting to write a story with Johnny since I started.

Finally got a plot worked out and will be updating this when I can.

[gay-otlc]

*coughs* trans keefe headcanons,,, please <3

Why not? You get some more fun gender headcanons for a few other characters as well.

He/they Keefe

When he was a kid he would draw a lot, but he would always draw himself as male.

Their parents were always confused by his drawings but it was extremely simple in their mind- in an ideal world that they could create, they would be a boy.

He thought most girls felt secretly uncomfortable with being called “she” 

Then they manifested as an Empath and realized that other “girls” felt okay, or even happy, when people used she/her pronouns.

He impulsively cut his hair once- kind of badly, but he loved the messy way it looked and deemed it “Hunky hair.”

They also borrowed Fitz’s old clothes, since they hated the skirts and dresses Gisela always bought for them.

Once, when he was supposed to be at school, he ditched class and wandered around some elvin city. Since he had short hair and was wearing Fitz’s clothes, everyone assumed him to be male, and he had no idea why it felt so good.

They started to get more dysphoric more often as they got older, and their sketchbooks were suddenly full of pictures of Keefe in the body they’d prefer.

Once, his dysphoria got so bad that he couldn’t concentrate on class, and he went to Elwin’s office.

They thought Elwin would be confused like everyone else was when they explained their feelings about gender, but Elwin understood.

Elwin came out to him as nonbinary (they/them) and they explained to Keefe what being trans was.

Everything clicked into place.

Elwin also gave Keefe a binder and told them how to bind safely (we all know Keefe would damage their ribs given the chance), and helped Keefe choose their new name.

(Supposedly Keefe means both handsome and loved)

When Keefe came out to his parents, they reacted about as well as he expected- which is to say, horribly.

They lived with Elwin for a few weeks after that

Eventually, Cassius decided that if Keefe was going to live as male anyway, he didn’t want to make it more obvious that Keefe was AFAB, so he let him socially transition in public.

(He and Gisela still misgendered and deadnamed them in private)

While he was living at Elwin’s house, he still went over to the Vackers a lot, and came out to them as well.

Fitz didn’t quite get it at first, but he was supportive. Della was pretty much ready to go murder Cassius and Gisela herself. Biana’s reaction was pretty much “Okay. Can I still give you makeovers?” Alden, as expected, was an asshole about it. Alvar wasn’t there.

After Keefe helped Fitz understood gender a bit more, ze came out to him as boyflux and sometimes using ze/hir pronouns.

Much to Biana’s delight, as Keefe grew more comfortable in their gender identity, they became more okay with being a bit more gnc and liked wearing dresses and makeup sometimes.

Biana started using she/ae pronouns.

When Fitz and Keefe started dating, Keefe was a bit worried that Fitz only wanted to date him because ze saw him as still a girl.

They mentioned this to Fitz. Fitz laughed, apologized for laughing, and said it was just hilarious that Keefe thought ze liked girls.

When Sophie arrived, Keefe was a little nervous because he wasn’t sure how humans thought about gender, but when he came out, she was pretty cool about it and introduced him to human pride parades (and pride flags).

Everything they own is now a trans or bi pride flag.

He convinced Fitz to ditch class once and they went to a pride parade together.

This is so long I’m going to shut up now. Thanks, anon!

[whumpiary]

[update: this drabble used to be two posts but has since been edited to be one coherent piece!]

content warning: referenced past drugging, implied/discussed drug abuse, paranoid thoughts.

-

Cass is sitting in J’s bedroom, trying to sleep despite the daylight creeping in through the blinds. He’d been confused at first when Josiah had shepherded him in and peeled the sheets back from the bed. When he hadn’t moved to lie down Josiah had said that he needed to put the house back together and Cass needed sleep and that neither would happen if Cass was lying on the couch. Cass felt a pang of guilt through his fog and hadn’t argued. He’d done enough arguing today.

He’s not sure if he sleeps but he’s certainly awake when there’s a gentle knock on the door, followed by a man with long blonde hair and a neatly trimmed beard letting himself him. Whatever Cass was expecting when Josiah said his friend was a doctor, this is not it.

“Hey there,” he says with an easy smile “Wasn’t sure you’d be awake”

Cass tenses, sitting up against the headboard and trying to look less vulnerable, less weak. He hates doctors. Hates them even more when they’re so casual. Trying to act like your friend. They weren’t friends.

“I take it you’re Mal,” he grunts.

“I take it your Cassius”

“Cass”

“Cass. Right,” Mal corrects. He’s got a relaxed grip on eye contact, holding Cass’ gaze a few seconds longer than should’ve been comfortable. There’s something vaguely familiar about the way this man hold his gaze and it settles in Cass’ gut with a rocking sort of unease. Despite himself, Cass looks away.

Mal sets his bag down on the desk with a thud. It’s one of those old leather ones that border on the line between outdated and cool depending on who’s carrying it. Cass rolls his eyes. Wanker.

“How’re you feeling, Cass?”

“What, what do you think?” Cass spits. The other man doesn’t miss a beat.

“I literally do not know, mate. I met you about thirty seconds ago.”

Mal sits down on the chair by the desk, a careful distance from Cass, and begins rolling up the sleeves of his henley, revealing a litany of old-school tattoos that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Sailor Jerry’s bottle.

“What?” Mal asks, smiling at Cass’ obvious stare. “Did Josiah fail to mention my rugged good looks?”

J had, in fact, failed to mention his doctor-friend’s rugged good looks. He’d failed to mention anything at all about Mal, actually. Cass had half expected a half-dead, half-deaf 67 year old racist who’d scribble a prescription for Valium without looking at him and head off again. Instead he was staring at a 30-something Adonis who looked like he oughta be on the cover of an alternative home-goods magazine selling kombucha.

“You just don’t, don’t really look like a, like a doctor.”

Mal nods like he’s used to that assesment.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m technically a nurse.”

Cass coughs a laugh, “It, it, it does, actually.”

“Thought it might,” he says, smile dancing back on his face “Now. Josiah said you took something?”

Any amount of warming Cass had been feeling toward Mal turned ice cold in an instant.

“I didn’t take shit.”

Mal shrugs, “Alright, well did someone else give you something?”

Cass’ head jerks up and he squints at Mal, trying to figure out the trick.

“You believe, believe me?“

"Well are you lying?”

“No.”

“Then I believe you,” Mal says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He puts on a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, smiles like this is the only thing he’d prefer to do right now.

Cass stares at him. Right. Definitely not what he was expecting.

“So. If you didn’t take anything, did someone else give you something? Josiah, maybe?”

Cass’ heart falters and his eyes flit to the door. This is a trick. A trap. They’re tricking him into saying something against J so he can be thrown out or hurt or- he takes a deep breath and stops that particular train of thought. It was stupid. It was Josi- J - for God’s sake. And Cass’d named him, anyway, made him tell the truth. He knew J hadn’t given him anything.

He looks back at Mal, suspicious all over again. Why would he plant a thought like that?

“Wouldn’t he… wouldn’t he have told, told you if he gave me something?”

“Well, see, Josiah knows I’m not a huge fan of roofies, so I doubt it,” Mal says, rolling the desk chair closer. “Alright if I take your blood pressure?”

Cass nods blankly and shoves the sleeve of his shirt up to his shoulder, offers his arm. 

“Do you, you, you think he gave me something?” he asks.

“Seems a little out of character but you’re the one that knows what’s going on here, so I figured I’d ask,” Mal straps the blood pressure cuff around Cass’ upper arm “This might be a little uncomfortable, but it’ll just be a minute.”

They’re silent for a moment as Mal pumps air into the tourniquet. He’s right, it is uncomfortable. Maybe not in the way that Mal thinks. The cuff tightens slowly with each pump, cutting the blood circulation in a way that feels far too much like a rough hand gripping too tight. What did you think was gonna happen, Ace?

Cass takes a deep breath, tries to remind himself where he is, who he’s with. “Is Mal short for, short for something?“ 

“Unfortunately, yes,” says Mal and smiles as he makes quick eye contact. “Malory.”

Hipster with a medical degree. ‘Course his name is Malory.

The cuff constricts a little more and so does Cass’ chest. What did you think was gonna happen, Ace? Deep breath. 

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs.

“It is when you’re middle name is Valerie.”

Cass snorts a laugh. He doesn’t care if it’s true or not. The distraction is welcome.

The fact Mal’s not actually touching him helps. The tattoos even more so.

Classic American sailor tattoos, thick dark outlines coloured with red and yellow, a little blue. Sparrows, an anchor, a swashbuckling lady, a dagger, a heart. Then the less conventional ones. An astronaut, a small cat, an umbrella, a tea cup. Cass’ eyes catch on a trio of roses on Mal’s left arm, warped slightly. Or rather, the skin is. Bubbled scar tissue sits uneven under the ink, spreading neatly along his inner arm, starting at the wrist, stopping before the crease of the elbow. You’d barely notice it if you weren’t this close. Cass leans a little closer.

“You admiring the artwork or the scar?” Mal asks in an even tone, his attention on the blood pressure gage. Cass pulls back away, quickly, cheeks burning hot with the shame of being caught staring.

“Sorry,” he mutters. 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. It’s a good scar,” he says removing the cuff. Cass flexes his fingers as blood rushes back into them in a hot flush. Mal rolls his chair back to dig something else out of the bag. “It’s from when they cut me open to hardwire in this here biometric, fully automated, life-like mechanical hand”

Mal flexes his fingers, as if to show off the dexterity of each digit. Cass stares. Mal’s face splits in a stupid grin. 

“I’m kidding,” he assures quickly “Hand’s real. It’s the foot that’s fake” And he knocks on his shin, the full thud of hollow plastic helping pitch the punchline. 

Cass frowns, looks back down at the bed sheets. He feels like an idiot for nearly falling for it. But he’s tired and he doesn’t feel right and wasn’t this asshole meant to be helping? Not just fucking around? He feels even more like an idiot because everything Mal does makes him feel small and young and stupid. Like some kid, doe-eyed and staring, about to be tricked by Dad jokes and an easy smile.

“That’s a stupid, a stupid joke,” Cass mumbles. Like a fucking kid. God. There’s something about Mal that Cass can’t place, can’t pick and it keeps sending him off-kilter. Something familiar-but-not that he doesn’t want to think about. 

“Yeah I know. Bad habit,” Mal is picking something else out of the bag now. “He holds up a stethoscope. “Give your chest a listen?”

“Do I have to take, take my shirt off?”

“Yeah,” Mal says with a deep sigh, apology etched into his face. “Unfortunately, while medical science has advanced far enough for me to hear through several inches of muscle, blood, and bone, we have not yet cracked the ability to also hear through a thin stretch of cotton, so…”

He gestures with his hand. There’s a beat. Cass remains thoroughly unimpressed. Mal sighs again, with another smile.

"Yeah I know, stupid joke. Leave your shirt on. I’ll get you to lean forward though, if you can”

Cass obliges silently. He fucking hates this guy, he decides. He hates the jokes and the hair and the tattoos and the one fucking foot. The painfully ‘not your average doctor’ vibe of him.

Complete wanker.

“I know, know what you’re doing,” he spits after a few moments of quiet. The other man hums an acknowledgement, moving the stethoscope to his back “With the, the, the jokes and the stories. Tryna be friend- be friendly.  Just tryna get me, get me more comfortable so I’ll tell, I’ll tell you shit”

Mal sits back, taking the stethoscope from out of his ears. He’s got an impassive sort of look on his face that’s kind of annoying. “Is it working?”

“No. You’re not my, not my friend.”

“I’m not trying to be, mate, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on,” Mal holds his gaze as he says it. Piercing and ice blue, Cass is overcome with a feeling that he’s being looked into, gently inspected. That he doesn’t need to tell Mal anything. He already knows.

There’s a fear that grips Cass for a moment. J wouldn’t send a reader in without telling him, right? His eyes flit to the warped skin on Mal’s wrist. Hiding a mark?

Then the moments gone. Snapped in two like glass as Mal breaks his gaze to throw the stethoscope back in the bag. 

“The stammer normal for you?” he asks, suddenly.

Cass blinks. “The what?”

“The stammer. You keep repeating, keep repeating yourself every few, every few words, like this, like this,” Mal demonstrates. The not-a-mechanical hand turns in the rhythm of his voice, like a conductor keeping time for an orchestra  “That how you usually talk or is it new?”

Cass frowns, tries to think about how he’s been talking. 

“Uhh… new, it’s new I guess,” he says. Mal hums low, produces a small pen light.

“Follow this with your eyes,” he says “What about the tremor? That new too?”

The flip between conversation and consultation is dizzying, but Cass does his best to oblige. There’s a faint feeling of nervous dread creeping over him. Something’s wrong.

“Um, it… It happens when I’m, when I’m, when I’m tired. Or when I’m stressed, stressed I guess. Been pretty norm, pretty normal for a while,” he says. He’s overly aware of the tripping of his tongue, now, embarrassment and frustration eating at him with every word he snags on.

“Push through’d do it too, I guess?” Mal asks, pocketing the light again.

Cass stares at him, gaping a little.

“You know, push through?” Mal tries again “When you’re spent but you keep using your-”

“I know what, know what push through means,” Cass snaps.

The other man puts his hands up in a hasty surrender. “I didn’t mean anything by it, mate.”

“I’m not your mate.”

Cass knows exactly what push through means. If he spent too much time in someone’s head, if he named too many people one after the other, he’d start to feel the tug of it. Tingling in the hands and feet, faint ache in the chest or the head. But a blood rush, your heart pulsing with something other than blood. Like you could do anything.

So then you’d push through, keep going. Full splitting headache, churning stomach, dizziness, aching joints. But your brain felt electric, so much bigger and faster and you could see so much more than anyone else. So many connections and vibrations.

So you push through, go a bit further, just a little more. Breathlessness, slamming heart, bones like glass, thoughts like fog. And it’s burning now, a little, but the spark is still just in reach. So you push through.

Just a little further, knowing you’ll get it back if you just keep reaching. Memory loss, delirium, pain like your body was going to kill you. Or floating, unhooked, free. 

Cass knew what fucking push through was. Intimately. The question was how the fuck did Mal?

"Josiah didn’t give me anything,” Cass says suddenly. It feels like a confession. Mal doesn’t say anything. “There was... The... The, the, the people I was, people I was staying with. I think they, they… I think…”

“Do you know what it was they gave you?” Mal asks gently. He does everything so fucking gently. Cass squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head.

“I don’t even, even know for sure that they, they, they did,” he admits. His voice isn’t shaking. It’s not. “I’d just… wake up and I would feel, would feel wrong. Like I’d gone on a bend, a bender or something”

“Like a hangover?”

“More like withdrawal. Then push through on top.”

“Is that why you took the oxy? It felt like withdrawal?”

“It wasn’t an oxy, just a-” Cass stops abruptly, biting down on his tongue. Idiot. “I thought you said you believed me.”

“I thought you said you didn’t take anything.”

Mal’s eyes glint. This isn’t right. What did you think was gonna happen, Ace?

Cass can feel his breath ducking shallow in his chest and he hastens to control it, shove it down, stave off the black spots that are suddenly flickering in his vision.

This isn’t right. He leans forward where he sits, gripping the edge of the sheet. He barely has anything in him but he needs to get this guy away because something isn’t right, none of this is right.

He barely has enough in him but he has enough: “Mᴀʟᴏʀʏ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ”

But Mal doesn’t flinch, doesn’t change his face, doesn’t move to go. He just tilts his head slowly, looks Cass in the eye. His voice is so gentle when he speaks.

“That one’s not gonna work on me, mate.”

Cass feels his heart miss a beat, like skipping a step on the stairs, foot sliding through free fall. He thinks about bolting, but Mal is blocking the door. He thinks about trying to name him again but he has nothing left, he was nothing left and it doesn’t matter because it didn’t fucking work.

“I knew, knew it. I fuck, fucking knew it,” he spits. He tries to lean forward, but the dizziness hits him too fast and he sits back “You’re a reader, aren’t, aren’t, aren’t you?”

Mal laughs softly like the accusation is surprising.

“No, not quite,” he says, quietly. 

“Well what are, what are you, then?”

“I’m honestly just a nurse, mate,” Mal leans back in his chair, pushing that long mane back with one hand “And, unfortunately for you, Josiah’s friend.”

He almost looks sad. Cass isn’t fucking falling for it.

“I don’t believe you.”

Mal shrugs, taking his glasses off, “You don’t have to.”

There’s a long moment between them, quiet and still. It’s so silent that Cass can feel the air around them pulsing. Maybe that’s why the yell from the other room is so loud. Something like a crash. More yelling. An argument, a fight. Mal, who has been seemingly unphased the entire time Cass has been talking to him, suddenly seems very, very phased.

Someone is here. Someone has J.

Cass is moving before he has time to register the pain that swoops in at the rush in his head.

“Who’s, who’s here? What’s happening?”

Mal tries to stand in front of him but Cass is already pushing passed. He can barely feel the juttering of his legs. Mal grabs for his arm-

“Everything’s fine, it’s jus-”

Cass doesn’t notice way his heart is suddenly not beating but fluttering, surging, buzzing. He shoves Mal backwards, reaching for the door.

“Everything’s not fine, fuckhead. Who, who did you bring here? What, what what have you done to Josiah?”

Cass doesn’t notice that his lungs are straining to grab oxygen, straining to do anything other than squeeze mercilessly.

“Nothing, mate. Cass, you need to-”

Cass doesn’t notice the blood rush in his ears, drowning out Mal’s words.

He opens the bedroom door, prepared to see anything; prepared to see a bloodbath, prepared to see a gun to Josiah’s head, to see an armed fucking militia. Prepared to see them. The them he’s running from, the them he should know better than to have run towards, the them who could find him and drag him back, and drag Josiah along too if they wanted to.

But that’s not what he sees.

He sees Josiah, standing with his back to the hallway, completely fine. Angry, sure, but when wasn’t Josiah angry? His voice is still echoing sharp across the room but his body language is open and loose. He almost looks relaxed. Comfortable in a way Cass hasn’t seen him since coming back. He’s fine.

And then he sees her. Small and leather-clad and familiar and furious.

Oh.

Cass feels the fear fall off him like a cloak, which maybe was stupid considering who he’s looking at. He wishes he hadn’t opened the damn door.

Lou.

“I assume you’ve met my wife?” Mal says from behind him.

Right. Fuck.

And then.

And then Cass realises someone’s squeezed all the breath from his chest, and that his legs are shaking so hard they shouldn’t be holding him up and that his heart has somehow turned into a wasp’s nest, and that his brain is a brick of dynamite about to explode.

Cass looks at the woman in front of him, looks at Josiah, looks at Mal.

Lou. Here. Right.

Fuck.

And then he faints.

[dmcdrabbles]

*windmill kicks open your door* I NEED THE BOY. And Nero. Getting into that tussle, that fist fight, that drag-down knock argument between those two idiots;;; (and maybe if Cass is in his feelings already he can get secretly "SJKDFL" at how physically close they end up?? irdk i honestly just need more content of The Boy™)

YEAH OF COURSE HERE’S MY BOY

(For clarification he’s the m!reader I’ve written and drawn Nero with and he has been quickly forming into his own OC)

–

Cassius breathed into his cupped palms, trying to get them warm enough to stay pliable in the cold Fortuna morning. His choice to forgo the Order’s uniform and its blessedly warm leather gloves was starting to seem dumber and dumber with every minute that passed. Sure, Nero had been avoiding everyone in uniform like the plague lately, but it wasn’t like he’d been particularly friendly to Cassius either. Ever since he and Kyrie had gotten hurt in Mitis Forest last week, Nero hadn’t said more than four words to Cass. And then there was the fact that Nero wasn’t showing up even for the drills he could manage with one arm, and how he dipped out of his room at dawn, and how he would disappear for hours at a time.

It was starting to stress Cassius out.

The door to Nero’s bunk room opened, and out he came- not in uniform either, and the sling was still on. It took all of two seconds for Nero’s eyes to lock with Cassius’s, his eyes to widen in recognition, and for him to spin around to stomp down the other side of the hallway. Cassius gaped, hands falling from his face. That little asshole.

“Nero, wait up!” He jogged after his friend, glad that Nero at least didn’t break out into a sprint when he heard him coming. It was easy to pass him, turning to walk backwards and speak straight to his face. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Don’t got the time,” Nero flicked his hair out of his eyes and walked faster, not even sparing a sideways glance. Cassius sighed through his nose- lord, how did Credo ever deal with him?

“Going somewhere? We can talk on the way.”

Nero scoffed, rounding a corner so fast that Cassius wasn’t sure if the way their shoulders smacked together was deliberate or not. He followed behind Nero again, nearly bowling over a hooded grandmother- his apologies and steadying didn’t slow the other man down a bit.

Nero had made it to an alleyway by the time he caught up again. He was probably just walking in circles at this point, recognizing Cassius planned to follow him all the way to whatever place he had been sneaking off to recently. Cass grabbed the crook of his uninjured arm, tried to spin him around to at least look at him, dammit, but Nero turned around just to smack it off, teeth bared.

“Cass, will you piss off already?” He wasn’t loud enough to alert anyone out on the street, but it was a close thing. Nero had yelled at him before- you couldn’t be friends with Nero for as long as he had without running into his temper- but there was something in Nero’s voice that made Cassius seize up defensively.

“Not until you talk to me, you asshole.” His fists balled up and he was suddenly very glad for the vague attempt at warming them. “What the hell’s wrong with you lately?”

“Quit it with the hovering, you’re not my babysitter.” Nero snapped. “I’m sick of you following me around!”

There was a good way for Cassius to handle this. Something about how he’s worried about Nero, or how he misses his best friend, or how he’ll be there if he needs him. He could talk Nero’s temper down like he sometimes does when things get this serious.

Instead, his fist connected with Nero’s nose with a horrifying thud. It shocked Cassius almost as much as it shocked Nero- they hadn’t had a fistfight since they were what, fourteen? Something in his chest screamed out for him to apologize the second his knuckles started to sting; Nero had one working arm, for fuck’s sake. And he had this wide-eyed, open mouthed look on his face that made him look about as young as the day Cass met him- up until it twisted into a snarl and Nero reared back to swing his fist straight into Cassius’s jaw.

And oh fuck did that hurt.

But at least some level of instinct started to bleed in at that point, Cassius’s head whipping back around so he could better aim the kick at Nero’s stomach. But he wasn’t fast enough, alley still swimming in his vision from the punch- Nero grabbed his ankle and yanked up and back. A less flexible man would’ve done worse; Cassius just barely managed to stay on one foot, hopping awkwardly as Nero did a valiant job of pulling into him into a split.

Cassius yanked his leg back and only succeeded in getting them both off balance, Nero just barely managing to catch himself on his hands and knees on top of him. It was through sheer luck that Cass managed to roll himself on top, straddling Nero and clutching to his collar with shaking hands. His heart was thumping so loudly he was sure Nero could hear it.

“Tell me what-” He managed. He wasn’t sure what happened next.

“Get off of me!” Nero growled, and all the air punched out of Cassius’s lungs as his back hit the wall.

Oh, Cass thought dazedly, I’m fucking flying.

Cassius had always thought the whole ‘holding someone up by the throat’ thing was just some fantasy thing. But then again he always thought spiky, glowing demon arms only grew on demons, so what did he know?

Nero had never been this strong before. He probably knew that much. He also knew that the way his whole body seemed to heat up in a distinctly embarrassing way (from being choked out by his bloody-nosed, snarling best friend) was probably something he should file away to think about later. 

“Nero,” Cassius wheezed, and Nero’s face immediately crumpled into something almost scared. Even as his feet touched the ground, Cass had to lean against the wall for support. Don’t pass out, please don’t pass out.

Nero's hands closed tight around his arms. His voice came out panicked. "Cass, are you okay?"

"Dandy," He deadpanned breathlessly, one hand closing over Nero's glowing one. "This is new."

" 'This is'-" Nero repeated, brow twisted until his eyes fell on his clawed fist. He swung it behind his back as if it weren't already too late to hide it.

"Is that what you've been so weird about lately?" Cass coughed into his fist, straightened up just enough that Nero would stop looking at him like he expected him to keel over.

"I-" Nero slowly brought his hand back into view, flexing his fingers. "Yeah, it is."

"You should probably get that checked out." The joke came out remarkably flat, and Nero narrowed his eyes at Cass, mouth pulling into a tight line.

"I'm not letting anybody look at this." He jabbed a glowing claw into Cassius's chest. "You can't tell anyone about this, alright? Just pretend you never saw it."

Cassius looked at Nero's hand, at Nero, back at his hand, and back at Nero.

"Eh, only if you let me pinky promise your freaky hand." He shrugged.

[finderskeepersff]

64. Part 2

“Girl, why is your tree dead in the corner. What is happening?” looking behind me while hugging Cartier “don’t, I need to do it. Christmas is literally next week” glaring over at Cassius as he made his way out of the room, giving me Cartier like this. This boy is working my nerve, not a lie. I am just about ready to rip him a new asshole “you mean mugging? What happened” I sighed out “men happened, you right Gio. Men happened” I scoffed “but not you” looking down at Cartier “he loving your boobs, look at him. Resting his face on them, but I am shocked. What made you have another baby?” I shrugged “erm, it happened but also Gio. Cartier now has a sibling his age, they can grow up together. I mean Leyton and I are on different parts of our life, and I had to be his carer and I hated it because I was so much more older than him” feeling Cartier grab my bottom lip with his hand “true, that will be so sweet. You know what you look so well, like for a woman to be having another baby they would be dragged down, you are glowing. You look so happy too” I grinned at Gio “thank you, I try. I am happy to be a mother, I think a lot of girls want a career and I did but I always wanted to be a mother so I can give my love I never got into this child but it’s a pain, I won’t lie. I can get those moments where I wish I was not a mother but it is a bonus, to get that love from him” placing Cartier over my shoulder “I want to be a father, I really do. I wasn’t lying about you being my surrogate” I laughed “you want my babies huh? I don’t think my body will be ready for a third child, god. Not yet anyways” Cartier face planted into the side of my face “boy” moving my head away from him “what are you doing?” mean mugging him, he yelped out “ok, go and crawl” placing him on the floor “so yeah, send me the details and I am all yours” I smiled at Gio and then Cartier screamed out before he let out a cry, he is grumpy “what is it?” looking down at him as he used the couch to get up “what’s wrong” he is very emotional, he shuffled to me “ok you sit on my lap” I rolled my eyes “like this, you never know what their problem is” placing Cartier on my lap.

I am glad Gio left, I had to be all smiles there “why are you like this? Fruit is nice” swiping away the banana he just refused to eat “you need to try new things” pulling a face, my hand is full of his saliva and banana now. Getting up from the chair and making my way to the sink “you sure you want to get that close” rinsing my hand under the water “I might bite you” Cassius is clearly creeping into the kitchen and I can see him, he barely fucking speaks to me “how does it make you feel that a nigga would fuck me in a heartbeat and would dick me down, they find me sexy” drying my hands off, watching him intently “that ain’t the point” touching a nerve “that is the point, any nigga would love to sleep with me, still. Till this day Jordan is thinking about me but you are running? I mean that does mean you don’t want me sexually. That is fine” I laughed “you want him?” Cassius said “him? If he was going to keep me warm at night then why the fuck not” sitting down on the chair, crossing my leg over my left. Making sure my legs are exposed. Pushing the hoodie back a little more “I think it’s a compliment, he calls me little miss long legs. Probably running through his mind, but you? You can’t even sleep in the same bed as me, Cassius if you can’t dick me down then someone else will. I have had enough!” I barked, Cartier’ face went small when I shouted “not you baby but your dad, he’s a little bitch” grabbing Cartier’ breakfast.

Who would have thought, a known drug dealer is sulking in my kitchen. He is sat at the table sulking, who would have thought this but he has pushed me. I ain’t the same Sofia anymore, I am not having it and I will push his buttons “I want you to always love your partner, hold her at night. No matter the situation son, you love her” stroking Cartier’ cheek “I do love you?” pulling a face looking at Cartier “you hear him? Cause that is a ghost, because only a ghost can’t give me dick” I laughed “you want me dead? That is mean” I licked my lips and looked over at him again “tell me how you really feel Cassius? I have fucking moved on, I want you to have sex with me and you look at me like I am a fucking disease when I have men wanting me! You have done nothing but shy away from me, lie to me, making me feel I ain’t sexy but other men are making me feel that so there you have it” I shrugged “so you’re cheating on me” picking Cartier plate from the table “take it as you like, you need to fuck me for an answer” walking around the counter smiling to myself, I am actually not having his shit anymore. Placing the plate in the sink “I am being respectful” turning around, he is close “respectful? I don’t want it, I never asked you to be. I wanted sex with you! You fool!” he is being cute and it’s annoying me “after everything you doing me like this? I fucking love you, you idiot. I would do anything for you. Forgiveness, I have given you that and yet you can’t look at me like you want me” he thinks I am cheating so that is upsetting him more “you got another man? Who is it? Who is wanting you? Jordan!? I will kill him” I smirked “he just told Gio he missed my legs, but no. Next” this has been the closest he has been for a while, he closed the gap between us “you cheating on me?” he said again “what is it to you? I might bite you” he is angry, oh yes he is angry “it is to me Sofia, you’re with me!?” biting my bottom lip “and?” I breathed out “you’re pissing me off!” he spat, placing my hand just under his chin “good” I said in a whisper and shuffled away from him.

In real terms there is nobody and this is all a lie but I want him to fuck me, I want his dick and he better fucking cough up with that shit. Smiling at Cartier as he played with his toys in the bath tub, I am so thankful that he likes bath time, imagine if he didn’t then I would be doomed with that and he would create hell “aww you want mommy to have it” he held out the wet toy to me “awww, why thank you my baby boy” taking it from him smiling “you’re being giving, thank you. If only your dad would give up some dick to me, I hope I have a girl. One boy and one girl, how perfect is that?” I grinned, I chuckled at Cartier “if you don’t want me then say it” here he is “who said I don’t? I am just letting you know that you may not want to fuck me but other men do, so I want to know what you’re going to do about it?” throwing Cartier’ toy back in the bath, I still have Cassius hoodie on and honestly I have just some thong on under this “I will kill them” I smirked to myself, I find that hilarious ���can you fuck me before you do” I sighed out, he is annoying.

Cartier fed, bathed and now asleep. What a morning, taking the hoodie off “you can follow me all you want, I am going to have a shower” Cassius eyes diverted to my breasts, he is looking at my body finally. Useless men, I just don’t get him sometimes and I am wide open for him. Putting the shower on, I am actually going to fucking ignore him now, because I have had about enough of bending backwards for him, for him to just love me. I have forgave him and he does not scare me, I love him. Stepping into the showes, I guess I can cry in the shower. The water will drown out my sobs and my tears will be swept away down the plug hole, I want him to love me so bad. Feeling the water hit my head and I breathed out “you really don’t want me” I groaned out, his voice is following me “Cass-” I stopped mid-sentence seeing Cassius naked, I can see penis and I have never been so happy “I never said I don’t, I just want you to understand that I forgive you, I want you touch me. I want you to hold me, I am not scared of you. I want you to love me Cassius.” Reaching for his hand “touch me” holding his hand and guided him into the shower “but I did you wrong Sofia, I did this?” he looked at my bump “you gave me another baby yes you did, and it’s a blessing” Cassius moved his hand away from mine, watching his hand travel to my stomach. Feeling his touch lightly on my stomach, I didn’t speak or move from him. He placed his hand on my bump “this is us” placing my hand a top of his, looking up at him “why are you teary eyed, Cassius?” he bit on his top lip “one thing I never wanted to do was to hurt you, you mean everything to me Sofia” smiling at him lightly “and so do you Cassius, I love you so much and what happened, happened. That does not bother me, I want you to forgive yourself” placing my hand on his chest stepping closer to him “I love you” pressing a kiss to his chest “I love you too” he mumbled.

Cassius dropped to his knees in front of me, looking down at him as he placed my right leg over his shoulder, my left still planted to the ground. I made no moves to stop him, he gently spread my folds and took one long hard lick, I placed my hand on the wall at the side of me. Cassius buried his face between my legs teasing my clit with his tongue causing me to moan out. My hands rushed to his head pushing him in deeper as he pushed his tongue into me. Flickering, sucking, biting, pinching. My head pressed against the shower wall, my eyes clenched shut as Cassius continued to work magic between my legs. Moans trembling from my lips while his tongue lapped up my essence. Feeling the warmth of Cassius tongue leave as he moved away, Cassius stood up and I couldn’t help but smile. Staring down at me with his hand resting on my thigh. He lowered his head and his lips captured mine, his tongue pushing it's way into my mouth.

Cassius stepped back and I know he is about to run off, if he does I will end it with him. Cassius licked his lips, he is thinking and now I am nervous, I cleared my throat. Cassius stepped towards me and took me by surprise, I wrapped my legs around his waist. My arms wrapping about his neck. Biting down on my bottom lip to hold in my cries as the head of his dick teased my opening before sliding home. My walls clenched him firmly as he thrust into me slowly “fuck” Cassius and I both said together, I held on to his shoulders as he pushed his dick in deeper and deeper, each thrust harder than the last. Cassius moaned still stroking me long and hard. My hands on Cassius face as I moaned out, my head hitting the wall behind me feeling euphoria. Cassius continued to thrust into me. Looking down at Cassius, he smiled before kissing me, his tongue slipping between my lips wrestling against mine. His movements were slow and steady, I broke the kiss and tossed my head back moaning out loud. Using Cassius shoulders as I met his rhythm, Cassius face contorted and I become even more aroused as he placed one of my nipples in his mouth. Feeling of his teeth nip at my sensitive bud made me feel even more wet, riding him as hard and fast as I could “oh fuck, Sofia!” he spat moving his head back, I clenched up and pressed my nails into his shoulder. My words were stuck in my throat as my body filled with pleasure so I instead allowed my moans do the talking. A tingling feeling seeped through my veins as every nerve in my body, Cassius groaned out, his head rested on my chest.

If I could dance I would, I got dick and I am happy. It fucking worked, lying works “so who is it that wants you?” Cassius asked, I knew he would ask “you want me?” I questioned “I know I do but you said some guy wants you” I giggled “I lied” I laughed out “I lied to get to you and it worked, sorry. Look it happened, you came to me” Cassius is not impressed “how are you feeling anyways? I feel great, I had some dick so there is that” he is not happy “I am happy” he is saying it but doesn’t look it “but what is annoying you?” fixing the towel on my head, this is about to fall from my head, a little gasp left my lips not realising Cassius came up from behind me, I looked up at the mirror smiling “so nobody wants you like that? You all mine?” I smiled “I am all yours, I am not interested anyways. Do you still find me sexy” I have to ask, seeing Cassius hands creep from around me, watching him from the mirror as he untied my robe and slowly opened it, he pressed a kiss on my neck and I rested back against him “you saying I don’t find this sexy” he opened my robe exposing my naked body “I just get nervous with you, you’re too precious” biting my bottom lip smiling, I can’t stop smiling. Looking to the side of me “I love you” pressing a kiss to his lips “I love too Cassius” I hope it’s the last of this business because I want him to be him.

[egregiousderp]

Fulcrum X Fulcrum (With Spoilers for Season Three of Rebels if that wasn't Obvious. We good? Okay~)

Okay look. I know a few things after this year’s double punch of Rebels and Rogue One:

–Cassian Andor is a former Separatist and a former Fulcrum agent apparently involved with recruiting

–Agent Kallus is apparently really good at reprogramming droids.

–Even parts of the fandom that LIKE Kallus want to see him punched.

–That jacket and hair combo’s gotta come from somewhere

–I need these assholes to meet.

–The timeline technically meshes so it could happen.

And so I ended up writing Cassian/Kallus (Cassius?) pre-slash fic snippet I might never go further with over Clone Wars Politics, Kaytoo’s Sass, Namedropping, and my old favorite: “Sad Pan Kallus is Pan As Hell.”

For the record I blame Moon for not stopping me.

——–

——–

“I’d heard a rumor some of the members of the rebellion held separatist leanings during the Clone War.”

It isn’t much in the way of conversation when you’ve been paired off with a strange man to fix an imperial droid. But it’s something considering theirs had been a conversation of false starts:

The information in this unit must be valuable.

The withering scowl back.

Kay has no information.

Or:

I didn’t catch your name.

It’s the same as yours. Fulcrum.

And his look.

That isn’t an answer.

Cassian. Cassian Andor, Rebel Intelligence.

Now Kallus is hunting for another thread, picking at the man’s accent. Rim world. Beta quadrant. Separatist territory–in Kallus’s youth anyway.

“We take what we’re given,” Cassian replies stiffly, not looking up. There’s a ways to look up for Kallus no matter what. “Wanting a droid to take the place of a man does not make a lesser rebel.”

He’s fiddling with the insides of his droid, brows knit deep and hard.

“We don’t choose where we’re born, I suppose,” Kallus defers.

“You’re from Coruscant,” there’s a scoff to the name of his homeworld, “Tell me, Captain Kallus, do they still teach the Separatists were terrorists and radicals, railing against democracy?”

He’s never told Captain Andor his name.

“It’s hard to argue with the image of a temple burning,” Kallus replies quietly.

To say the least of the horrific, withered countenance of the Emperor that had given Kallus nightmares as a child, a fear of Jedi that lasted long into his adult life.

“I don’t have to.” Cassian growls, face going hard and pinched before he’s leaning. Back down, fiddling with something in the back of his droid’s head, the lump of metal cradled in his lap like it’s the face of a child.

It’s personal, Kallus notices. This droid, this one droid matters to him or he never would have asked for the help in the first place. And it’s Imperial or any number of people probably would have helped, not just Kallus.

Kallus goes back to reattaching the droid’s right arm, to balancing the servos. He tests the motion in the metal fingers, letting the silence linger between them. He sneaks glances at the other man with the right afforded a tall, well-muscled person. No one wanted to upset him on first look, so often he could look where he pleased without issue.

Captain Andor knows he’s looking but seems bent on willfully ignoring him instead. He is a handsome man beneath the perpetual scowl, Kallus notes. Though he thinks many beings are handsome and he has no reason to believe the life of a rebel is an easy one though he’s barely begun his own.

Kallus wants to ask how he became a Fulcrum agent if he’s traveling in the company of an Imperial KX, but talks with the lilting accent of a rim-worlder.

Doesn’t

He lets his eyes slip away, bending so his head is lower than Cassian’s. The subtle quirks of body language worked into him in Imperial Intelligence. The unspoken cues that told a person to trust. To expect authority. To yield.

Cassian doesn’t look up, adding, “You should talk to Rex. About the Clone Wars. About being a clone.”

“I’ve already spoken to Captain Rex in gratitude for his service.”

“And in your texts on history was there ever a mention of his name? Of the names of any of the clones serving the Jedi?” Cassian’s accent apparently gets more pronounced when he’s riled. A dangerous trait in an agent, perhaps.

Kallus is quiet.

“…Did he really serve under General Skywalker?” He asks finally.

“So you think he’s lying?” Cassian shoots back.

“I- No,” Kallus pushes at his hair, flattening it back, “My mentor, Colonel Yularen always…spoke highly of General Skywalker. Nothing more.”

The unspoken unease that two men who once fought for the same side so closely might face off again as enemies lingers with him.

He wonders how many times he undid the work of Cassian Andor’s hands while serving the empire.

Cassian glances at him for a moment then goes back to tightening screws with angry little jerks of his arm.

“Would you still have thanked Captain Rex if he had killed General Skywalker on command?” The Rebel snaps.

Kallus grimaces.

“I don’t know what I would have done.”

The honest answer.

Perhaps not the best one because Cassian levels a look at him, seems to peer at him.

He’s a sharp man, Kallus notes. Easily his equal and should be treated as such. Stubble and bags under the eyes like he’s been camped out in a jungle on his own, and not in the great ruins of Yavin with a company of rebels. Rough edges and hard choices.

Kallus looks back at him and is sure it shows in his face that he isn’t sure if Captain Cassian Andor, Fulcrum, is what he wants to become.

He looks at the way Cassian’s hands rest almost tenderly on the dome of the droid’s head, a throwaway pile of scrap with an Imperial logo still prominently on its arm, and thinks maybe he’s precisely what he should like to become.

Cassian’s hard eyes pinch.

“You should think carefully about programming, Captain Kallus,” his voice is very soft, a handkerchief hiding a vibroblade in a dark alley, “Not all of it is done to droids.”

“It has been thoroughly brought to my attention I ought to ask more questions. Do let me know if I bore you,” Kallus replies, keeping his tone as bland as if he’s at a core dinner dressed in gold braid.

The corner of Cassian’s mouth goes up in a humorless smile, a noiseless chuff of laughter.

He toggles a switch and the KX unit’s white eyes flick back to life.

A metal hand clamps almost immediately around Kallus’s neck.

Kallus chokes, instincts leaping hard. A second metal hand bats away his blows, unfolding limb by limb.

“KAY!” Cassian shouts.

The droid’s head swiveled to him immediately.

It paused a moment, then unclamped his metal fingers from Kallus’s throat.

“…Clear of Hostiles.” A male voice intoned, a little primly.

Kallus coughed, slumped on the stones of the temple floor.

“Are you alright?” Cassian snaps, dropping to his knees with a curse.

To his surprise, Kallus laughs under his breath, rubbing his throat and jaw.

He pulls himself to his feet, waving off the other man’s hands

“Now there’s the rebel welcome I’d expected.”

Cassian’s startled into cracking a smile, quickly trying to cover it. A quiet thing.

Kallus covers his staring by patting the droid’s metal arm.

“That’s quite a loyalty subroutine your KX has.”

“I am seventy percent certain I should find that response insulting,” the droid replied pausing and flicking its white eyes to him, “I’m K2-SO. I’m a reprogrammed Imperial Droid.”

“Kallus,” Kallus intones, “Formerly ISB-021, an agent of the Imperial Security Bureau, and formerly a Fulcrum Agent in service of the Rebellion.” He pats the droid’s arm again. “You could probably consider us kindred spirits.”

Cassian’s mouth widens.

“I will not,” the droid says, once again sounding smug, “My programming is far superior to a defective Imperial Agent’s, Cassian’s seen to it.”

“Kay.”

“Fine by me,” Kallus says, ruefully rubbing his neck, “Good Men like Captain Andor should be in good hands. Yours seem to serve more than well enough.”

Something passes into Cassian’s face that he can’t quite read.

Kallus quickly removes his hand from the droid’s arm.

“Everything seems in order.” He inclined his head in a formal bow, “Fulcrum.”

Cassian’s eyes flick over him before he nods back.

“Fulcrum.”

“Let me know if you need help with Imperial equipment. I’m here to do whatever good I can.”

Cassian considers this, dark eyes briefly flicking down to Kallus’s hands, then up again to his eyes. There’s fur in the lining of his coat even in the heat of Yavin, framing his face. He nods after a moment.

“I will.”

The droid turns to him.

“You will?” It repeats.

Cassian shushes Kaytoo, eyes still on Kallus. He says nothing.

Kallus smiles.

“Thank you,” he says, meaning it.

“You actually like him?” He can hear the droid say too loudly as he leaves.

Cassian’s response is murmured too low for his to hear but Kallus’ smile broadens into a grin.

“Do you want to know how I feel about strange men touching me?” the droid’s offended voice is gradually lost to the ruckus of the cargo bay.