#always love figuring out their helmets too (<- lying)

[rubia-peregrinart]

practicing the zeroes 2 electric boogaloo (now that i'm actually playing the games 🎉)

it's always a fun challenge stylization-wise - playing with the canon artstyle, the line between organic (which i'm ok at) and mechanic (which i'm bad at), that uncanny feel of "they aren't quite human", etc. also the irony of practicing anatomy (with references !!1!) on robots is not lost on me

[rosaeh]

jason todd stares at people. whether it's consciously or not.

he does stares at people to intimidate them, get them to do what he wants, and reveal what they know. even when he wears the helmet, his stares are so intense that the thugs can feel it pierce through. it scares them even more to wonder how deadly his gaze must be without it.

he stares at his siblings too, to read them, to try to figure out if they are lying to him or not. dick is always uneasy under jason's scrutinising eyes and the depths of their green. jason almost always get what he wants out of a single stare with them.

yet, when it comes to you, it's often unconsciously that he stares. he often founds himself smitten by just the sight of you. the way you look at him always get him, and he cannot help but keep staring at you as the only thing ever.

you never feel uncomfortable under his gaze, though. the green of his eyes, a colour you've learnt to know, and started to fall for the second they landed on you.

you do, however, find yourself fidgeting and squirming when he consciously stares at you. as if he could read you, -he can. you could reveal your most embarrassing secrets for that stare of his. but unlike the thugs he deals with on a daily basis, his gaze his not deadly for you, but more fond. even when he is staring to catch your -whites- lies.

lying to him. as if he didn't know you. you would deny being in need of something, and he would just stare at you, the way his brow raise indicating the lack of anger, and more showing how he doesn't quite believe you. and God knows you would cave in -you always do-, not helping the small smile on your face as you dare look into his eyes, and just admit everything to him.

and oh, how he would smile at that. to know how much he is able to read your body language ? how much he is just able to get you ? he loves it. craves it even. and he loves to know you let him get you like that. that you willingly let yourself in the open for him, that you let him see you.

but more often than not, he just stares at you for the sake of it.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Heat Exhaustion

Doohan Sister Reader F1 Driver Reader Cadillac Formula 1 Reader

Trigger Warning - Panic Attack

It was late, far too late to be awake when I had a flight to catch soon, but my mind wouldn’t quiet down. I was lying on my bed, my phone resting on my chest as I stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. The past week had been a whirlwind—another podium, more speculation about Max and me, the journalist still lurking in the shadows, and now… Max knowing the truth.

I should have felt relieved that he was on my side, that he wasn’t going to expose me, but instead, I felt like the walls were still closing in. Every day was a balancing act, a game of deception that I had to play to protect what I loved. And even though I trusted the few people who knew, the fact remained that they had all found out by accident.

I never got to choose who knew the truth about me.

Until now.

My fingers twitched as I lifted my phone, unlocking it and opening the group chat with Kimi and Ollie. They had been checking in on me more than usual, sending casual texts but always slipping in a "How are you feeling?" or "You sure you're good?" I appreciated it, but I also knew they were picking up on things I wasn’t saying.

I hesitated before finally typing.

Me: Hey, are you guys up?

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

Ollie: Yeah, what’s up? Kimi: Everything okay?

I chewed on my bottom lip, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. This wasn’t something I could just say easily. But I needed to get it out.

Me: I’ve just been thinking a lot about last weekend. It was… a lot to handle.

A pause, then—

Ollie: Yeah, we figured. You’ve been kinda off. Kimi: Not talking as much. That’s not like you.

I let out a soft breath, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the heaviness in my chest. They noticed.

Me: Yeah… it’s just hard to explain sometimes.

Kimi: You don’t have to if you’re not ready. But if you ever want to, we’re here.

That was the thing—I did want to.

I had spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, maintaining the act, making sure no one ever saw too much. I had gotten used to it. But Kimi and Ollie were two of the people I had grown to genuinely care about on the grid. And I wanted them to know me the way that Franco, Lando, Oscar, and now Max did.

I wanted to choose them.

I gripped my phone tighter before finally typing out the words.

Me: Actually… I think I want to tell you guys something. Something big.

The typing bubbles popped up immediately.

Ollie: Okay…? Kimi: Now I’m curious.

I exhaled slowly, staring at the screen, willing myself to go through with it.

Me: Every person who knows this about me found out by accident. I never really got to choose who I told.

A pause. Then—

Ollie: What do you mean? Kimi: Are you saying… you want to tell us?

My heart was pounding. This was it.

Me: Yeah. I do. I trust you both, and I want you to actually know me.

There was a longer silence this time. For a moment, I wondered if they were freaking out, if they were regretting saying they’d always be here.

Then—

Kimi: Wow… okay. When? Ollie: Yeah, whenever you’re ready, we’re here.

I let out a shaky breath, a warmth spreading through my chest.

Me: How about after media duties on Thursday in Qatar? Just us, maybe in my hotel room. I want to finally show you who I am.

It felt strange to say it like that—show them who I was. But that was the reality. No one besides Franco, Lando, Oscar, and now Max had seen me without the baggy clothes, the helmet, the entire disguise I had carefully built. Kimi and Ollie had only ever known Ghost. Now, they would finally meet me.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again, as if they were thinking hard about their response. Then, finally—

Ollie: We’ll be there. Kimi: Of course. We wouldn’t miss it.

I exhaled deeply, my shoulders slumping with relief as I locked my phone and pressed it against my chest.

For the first time, I was choosing who to trust. I was deciding who got to know the real me. That made all the difference as my mind began to relax, I was able to fit in a nice nap before my alarm woke me to leave for the airport. 

—

The seconds dragged, stretching unbearably as I sat on the edge of my hotel bed, my hands clenched into fists so tight that my nails dug into my palms. My helmet was still on, the visor down, the only thing keeping me hidden for just a little while longer. My hoodie felt suffocating, but I didn’t push it back. Not yet.

I had been so sure when I texted them.

I had spent the whole week telling myself this was the right thing to do, that this was the moment I would finally get to take control over something that had been out of my hands for far too long. Every other person who had found out had done so by accident—Franco, Lando, Oscar, even Max. Each time, it had happened without me choosing it, without me deciding I was ready.

This time, I had made the choice. I had typed the words out myself, I had asked Kimi and Ollie if they would come.

So why did I feel like my heart was about to beat out of my chest?

I exhaled sharply, my knee bouncing as I tried to shake the feeling off. This is nothing. This is just another reveal.

But it wasn’t, not really.

Because they weren’t just my teammates or my rivals. They were my friends. And they had become my friends without knowing who I really was.

What if this did change things?

What if they looked at me differently? What if they started treating me like I was fragile? What if—

Knock knock knock.

I jolted upright, breath catching in my throat.

The moment was here.

For a fleeting second, I considered staying put, pretending I wasn’t in, sending them a last-minute excuse that something had come up. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t do that. I had come this far, had spent years hiding, and I was so tired of it.

Swallowing down my nerves, I forced myself up, my feet feeling heavier than usual as I crossed the room.

Another knock, gentler this time.

They were waiting.

I reached for the handle, hesitating just long enough to take a steadying breath before pulling the door open.

Kimi and Ollie stood there, both looking equally nervous.

Their eyes flicked immediately to my helmet, to the way my hoodie draped over me, and I saw the realization hit them—that I was shaking.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ollie said immediately, stepping forward slightly. “If you don’t feel ready, we won’t be upset.”

“Seriously,” Kimi added, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. “We don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. It’s okay if you change your mind.”

Their kindness nearly broke me.

I clenched my jaw, gripping the edge of my hoodie sleeves, trying to hold myself together. They were giving me an out—offering me an escape with no strings attached. And for a second, a small part of me wanted to take it.

But I had spent so long not having a choice.

I wanted this.

“No,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “I want to do this. I need to.”

They studied me for a long moment, like they were trying to make sure I really meant it.

Then, finally, Ollie gave me a small smile, one that told me he understood just how much this moment meant to me. Kimi nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” Kimi said simply.

I stepped back, letting them inside. The door clicked shut behind them, and suddenly, the room felt so much smaller.

The weight of what I was about to do pressed down on my shoulders.

I turned to face them, my hands still trembling slightly, but I clenched them into fists again, trying to ground myself.

“One rule,” I said, my voice quieter than usual. “No matter who is under this helmet… you can’t tell anyone.”

Ollie’s expression softened further, his brows pulling together like he could see just how much this meant to me. “Of course. We’d never do that.”

Kimi nodded firmly. “We promise. We wouldn’t risk losing you. We have come to care for you as more than just a competitor.”

The words hit harder than I expected, my chest tightening at the sheer sincerity in their voices.

They didn’t care about the mystery, about the reveal itself.

They just cared about me.

I inhaled sharply, feeling a lump form in my throat as I lifted my hands to my helmet.

This was it.

The final moment before the truth came out.

I hesitated, my fingers gripping the edges. My mind screamed at me to stall, to wait just another second, just another minute, but I forced myself to push through the fear.

They’re your friends. They won’t leave. They won’t treat you differently.

Slowly, I lifted the helmet off.

The cool air hit my face first, followed by the flop of my hair from within the casing.

For a second, neither of them moved as an eerie silence filled the room.

Then, Ollie’s eyes widened, his mouth parting slightly as he blinked in pure shock. Kimi’s reaction was quieter, but his expression shifted instantly, his brows raising in understanding.

The weight of the moment pressed down on me, my heartbeat hammering so loudly in my ears that I swore they could hear it.

Seconds stretched unbearably, and then—

Ollie let out a quiet, breathless laugh, his lips twitching up into a grin. “No way.”

Kimi exhaled, shaking his head with something that looked like disbelief before his lips curled into a soft smile. “That’s why you were so nervous, huh?”

I nodded slowly, unable to find my voice.

Ollie let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair. “Mate, you’ve been fooling the entire world.”

Something about his tone—light, teasing, not at all distant or different—made the tension in my shoulders loosen slightly.

Kimi tilted his head, studying me for a moment before nodding. “This… actually makes a lot of sense now.”

I blinked. “It does?”

Kimi hummed in amusement, tilting his head as he studied me. “Yeah… the way you’ve been moving, the way you’ve been hiding. It wasn’t just about keeping your identity a secret, was it?” His voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “It was about making sure people saw you as a driver first. Not just a name… and not just because you’re a girl.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. They got it. They really, truly got it.

Ollie’s gaze lingered on my face for a moment longer before something seemed to click. His eyes widened slightly. “Wait a second…” He squinted, like he was trying to place a distant memory. Then, his jaw dropped. “No way.”

Kimi’s brows furrowed before realization dawned over him too. His expression softened in understanding. “Holy shit. You’re—” He hesitated, almost like he didn’t want to say it out loud. “You’re Jack’s little sister, aren’t you?”

A sharp breath left me at the sound of my brother’s name.

I nodded slowly.

Ollie let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair as the memories seemed to come rushing back to him. “I knew you looked familiar! You were at a race a few years back, weren’t you? I remember Jack talking about his sister being in the paddock for a weekend, but you were—” He gestured vaguely. “You looked different then. You weren’t…”

“Disguised?” I offered with a small, wry smile.

He let out a chuckle. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Kimi exhaled, shaking his head as a small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “This explains so much.”

Ollie looked at me, his expression shifting from disbelief to something softer. “Why didn’t you just race under your real name?”

I hesitated, my fingers curling into my hoodie sleeves. “Besides the problems with my parents, I didn’t want to be just ‘Jack’s little sister.’ I wanted to make it here on my own. No expectations, no assumptions—just me, proving that I deserved to be here.”

Kimi nodded in understanding, his eyes holding something that looked like respect. “And you did.”

Ollie grinned, nudging me lightly. “Yeah, you really did. And honestly? This makes you even more of a legend.”

That hit deep. I let out a slow breath, my nerves still there but quieter now, replaced by something warmer.

Kimi’s smile softened. “We’ve got your back, okay? No one’s finding out from us.”

Ollie nodded. “Yeah. No matter what, we’ve got you.”

Relief crashed over me in waves, so intense I almost felt dizzy from it. For the first time in a long time, I chose to tell someone my truth. And I had chosen right.

—

The weekend’s sessions had been utterly brutal. The relentless Qatar heat wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was suffocating. It clung to my suit, turned every breath inside my helmet thick and stifling, made every movement feel sluggish. Sweat dripped down my back, pooling beneath layers of fireproofs, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn't peel the suit away between runs like the others did. I couldn’t press an ice pack to my neck, couldn’t dump water over my head to cool down.

I couldn’t even drink properly.

Every other driver could remove their helmets, take a quick sip from their bottles between debriefs, but I had to wait until I was alone in my driver’s room. The few stolen moments between sessions were the only times I could rip off my helmet, gulp down as much water as I could manage, and try to regulate my breathing before I had to suit back up again.

And qualifying was proving just how much that was wearing me down.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my trembling hands to stay steady on the wheel as I threw the car into the next corner. My arms ached from the relentless force pressing against them, my gloves were damp from sweat, and the heat inside my helmet made my head pound.

But I didn’t lift.

I couldn’t.

This was my last chance. One more lap to break into Q3. One more lap to prove I could push through.

I kept my foot down, forcing the car to its limits, wringing every ounce of performance I could from the tires. But as I rounded the final turn, the rear snapped—just a fraction, but enough to jolt my exhausted system.

I corrected it instantly, instinct taking over before my brain even had time to register the mistake. But the damage was done.

A few milliseconds lost.

Milliseconds that could mean the difference between moving forward or falling short.

I held my breath as I crossed the line, waiting—praying.

Then the radio crackled to life.

“Good job, Ghost.” Diego’s voice was steady, but I could hear the tightness behind it. “You just made it into Q3. Sitting P10 right now.”

Relief crashed into me, but it was quickly smothered by exhaustion.

“You’re not alone up there,” Diego continued. “Franco’s through too—P8. We’re happy with this, but let’s see if we can get something better out of you.”

I swallowed, my throat dry as sandpaper.

They wanted more from me.

They always wanted more.

And normally, I would have fought for it. Normally, I would have dug deeper, found something extra to give.

But right now?

Right now, I wasn’t sure if I had anything left.

My fingers twitched against the wheel, muscles trembling from heat exhaustion. I could feel the sweat pooling beneath my suit, soaking into the balaclava under my helmet. Every breath inside the confined space of my visor felt too warm, too thick, like I was breathing in steam.

I needed water. I needed air. I needed to be out of this damn suit for more than just a few stolen minutes between sessions.

But there was no time for that.

Not yet.

I forced myself to key the radio, my voice rougher than usual. “Understood.” My throat burned from dehydration, but I ignored it. “Let’s go again.”

There was a pause. A small one.

Then Diego’s voice returned, softer this time.

“Copy that. You got this, Ghost.”

I exhaled sharply, rolling out of the pit lane for the next run.

I had to.

—

By the time I pulled into the pit box, my body was on the verge of betraying me completely. The heat had wrung every ounce of strength from my limbs, leaving me trapped in my own skin, suffocating inside my race suit. The weight of exhaustion pressed down like a physical force, making my grip on the wheel feel distant, almost nonexistent. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, even as I tried to flex my fingers in my lap. My chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, the stale, burning air inside my helmet making it impossible to get enough oxygen.

As the pit crew jacked up my car and rolled me back into my side of the garage, I let my head fall back against the seat for just a moment, forcing myself to blink away the dizziness creeping in around the edges of my vision. The helmet felt like a furnace, trapping the heat against my skin, suffocating me with my own exhaustion.

I turned my head slightly, vision swimming, and caught sight of Franco already out of his car. His face was drenched in sweat, but he still had that easy, confident smile as he laughed with his engineers. How? He had been in the same conditions, pushing just as hard, and yet he looked… fine.

Then his eyes landed on me.

His grin widened as he raised a hand in a wave, but the second I lifted mine in return, his smile disappeared. His brows drew together, the concern sharp and immediate.

I knew exactly what he had seen.

The way my hand trembled violently, the sluggishness of my movements, the way my shoulders sagged like the weight of my own body was too much to carry.

Before I even attempted to move, Franco was already striding toward me, his playful demeanor completely gone. He reached the side of my car in seconds, one hand braced against the halo as he leaned in slightly, scanning my posture beneath the helmet.

"Hey," he said, voice quieter, serious in a way that sent a fresh wave of panic rolling through me. "You good?"

I forced myself to nod, even as my head swam. Say something. Don’t look weak.

But the moment I shifted, trying to push myself up, my body collapsed against the seat, arms going weak and useless.

"Shit—"

I barely had time to register Franco moving before his hands were on me, steadying me before I could even attempt another escape. His grip was firm but careful, as if he knew how close I was to completely shutting down.

"Oi, Nico!" Franco called over his shoulder, urgency lacing his voice. "Need a hand here!"

Footsteps rushed closer, and then Nico’s familiar presence was beside us, his voice calm but sharp. “What happened?”

“She’s overheating,” Franco answered before I could.

I wanted to protest, to tell them both to back off, but I didn’t have the energy.

“Come on,” Nico said, his arm sliding under mine as he and Franco braced me between them. “We need to get her cooled off before she passes out.”

Their help was the only thing keeping me on my feet as they guided me toward the drivers' room, my legs barely responding beneath me. Every step felt sluggish, like walking through molasses.

Inside, the temperature difference was immediate, the air conditioning hitting my suit like a wave of relief, but it wasn’t enough. I was still burning up, my skin damp with sweat beneath the layers of fireproof gear.

"Helmet," Franco said, tapping the sides. "You need to get it off."

I lifted shaky hands, fumbling with the latch, but my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Before I could even try again, Franco was already reaching for it, carefully undoing it for me.

As soon as the helmet came off, cooler air rushed against my flushed skin, and I gasped like I had been drowning.

“Here.” Nico pressed a cold water bottle into my hands, his expression unreadable but firm. “Drink. But go slow.”

I brought the bottle to my lips, the plastic slick in my shaking grasp, and took a sip. It felt like heaven against my parched throat, but even with the relief, my voice still came out hoarse.

"Thanks."

Franco crouched in front of me, his green-brown eyes searching my face for something, his usual teasing smirk nowhere to be found. "You shouldn’t have pushed that hard."

I shot him a weak glare. "Like you didn’t?"

He exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly not amused.

Before he could fire back, a knock sounded from the door followed by the nervous voice of some team staff.

“They need you both for post-qualifying media duties.”

Franco turned so fast I thought he might break something. “Are you kidding me? We just got out of the cars, and it’s boiling out there. We are barely upright right now.”

The team member sighed. “I know. I tried to push it back, but the media’s already set up. It’s non-negotiable.”

I closed my eyes for a brief second, letting out a slow breath. I wanted to be angry, to fight back, but I knew it wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s fine,” I muttered, pushing myself upright again. My legs wobbled dangerously, but I locked them in place. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Franco muttered something in Spanish under his breath, the irritation rolling off of him in waves.

Nico moved fast, reaching into a cooler before handing me something. “Here. Wear this over your suit.”

I glanced down at the ice vest in my hands, then back up at him, gratitude flashing through my exhaustion.

"Thanks," I murmured, slipping it on. The moment the cold pressed against my back and chest, my whole body sagged in relief. Even though the sweaty suit felt disgusting, the cold seeping in from this vest made it so much more worth it. Finally I pulled my helmet back on and followed Franco out the door. 

Franco was still grumbling under his breath as we made our way toward the press area, but as I adjusted my helmet again, I could feel his gaze burning into me. I knew I must still look exhausted and he had every right to be worried for me, but right now we had our media duties and neither of us got paid enough to take the fine that would come with even one of us skipping them. 

The moment I stepped into the media pen, the lights, cameras, and voices crashed over me like a tidal wave. My head throbbed from the heat and exhaustion, my limbs screaming for rest, but I forced my body to move forward, to stand tall, to act like I wasn’t breaking apart from the inside out.

The ice vest on my race suit helped, but only just. The cold was already fading, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the heat pressing down on all of us. My hands still shook at my sides, fingers twitching involuntarily, and I could feel the weakness in my legs with every step I took. But I had to push through. No cracks. No hesitation. No weakness.

The media swarmed the second they saw me. Microphones were shoved toward my helmet, journalists calling out my name—well, my alias.

"Ghost, a tough session today—"

"How was the car handling in these conditions?"

"With such brutal temperatures, how are you holding up physically?"

I kept my shoulders squared, forcing my voice to stay even. "It was tough out there, but the team did a great job preparing the car. The conditions were brutal for everyone, but we managed to get through."

I hated how flat my voice sounded. The voice changer masked everything—my exhaustion, my struggle, my pain—but my body couldn’t lie. My stance wasn’t as steady as it should have been. My weight shifted slightly, trying to counteract the wobble in my knees. I flexed my fingers at my sides, willing the tremors away.

The next journalist didn’t even bother with a question about my performance. Instead, their voice came with a sharper edge. "Ghost, we’ve noticed you’re looking a little unsteady—"

"I'm fine," I cut in, too quickly, too defensive.

A scoff came from beside me, and I didn’t need to turn my head to know who it was.

"Fine?" Max’s voice carried over the media, sharp and laced with irritation. "They can barely stand, and you all are still shoving microphones in their face. Maybe wait until they’ve had a chance to recover before making them answer pointless questions."

I swallowed, the warmth in my chest battling the exhaustion. Max was blunt as ever, but I appreciated him for it.

The journalists, of course, didn't back down. "Max, the FIA mandates post-qualifying media duties—"

"Yeah?" Charles cut in now, his voice tight with frustration. "Maybe the FIA should use their eyes and see that some of us can barely speak, let alone stand, before throwing us in front of cameras. Look at him. This isn’t normal."

I gritted my teeth, willing my body to stay still, to not give anything away. I had survived worse. I could do this.

A hand brushed against my arm—subtle but intentional. Lewis.

He didn’t say anything to the media, but his voice was low enough for only me to hear. "You don’t have to prove anything to them. Just get through it. We’ve got you."

The kindness in his tone almost shattered the wall I was desperately holding up.

But the media wasn't done.

"Ghost, how do you respond to Max and Charles’ concerns? Are you struggling more than you’re letting on?"

I inhaled slowly, steadying myself before answering. "It’s a tough race weekend for everyone. The conditions are harsh, but that’s part of the sport."

Another journalist jumped in. "There were moments on track where you seemed to be fighting the car more than usual. Was that just the heat, or were there issues with the setup?"

I exhaled slowly. "The setup is strong. The conditions make everything harder to manage, but we’re still in a good place for the race."

The questions kept coming, and I kept answering, pushing through the nausea creeping at the edges of my mind. My hands were clenched into fists now, not out of anger but in a desperate attempt to stop the shaking. My legs felt like they could give out at any second, but I locked my knees, refusing to let them see me stumble.

"Ghost, you’re one of the only drivers still giving full interviews right now, while others have already left due to the heat. Do you feel obligated to stay?"

That one made my breath hitch.

Before I could even formulate an answer, Franco’s voice cut in from a few feet away, his tone dripping with frustration. "Maybe instead of asking him that, you should be asking why the hell he is still expected to be standing here answering your questions when he clearly needs a break."

I heard Lando mutter something under his breath before stepping in too. "We all get that media duties are part of the job, but seriously, look at him. We’re dropping like flies out here, and Ghost can barely stand. Let him go."

For a moment, the journalists hesitated. Maybe they had finally realized how bad I must have looked. Maybe they saw the way I kept shifting my weight, the way my breaths were coming just a little too shallow, the way my hands wouldn’t stay still.

The team member who had escorted me here finally stepped in, clearing his throat. "That’s all for Ghost today. He needs to recover before tomorrow."

I didn’t wait for the journalists to argue. I gave a short nod, mumbled a quick, "Thank you," and turned to leave, moving slower than I wanted to, but fast enough that no one could stop me.

As soon as I stepped away from the cameras, away from the eyes burning into me, my entire body slumped. The adrenaline that had been keeping me upright drained in an instant.

Franco was there in seconds, steadying me with a firm hand on my back. "That was fucking ridiculous."

I couldn’t even respond. My head was pounding too much, my muscles aching too deeply.

Lando and Oscar caught up to us, both looking equally pissed.

"You should’ve just walked away the second you got out there," Oscar muttered, shaking his head. "They would’ve figured it out eventually."

I let out a weak laugh. "Would they, though?"

Lando huffed. "Next time, we’re dragging you out before they even get the chance."

I was too tired to argue.

Lewis appeared beside me, pressing another ice pack into my hands. "Here. This’ll help."

I took it without question, pressing it against my neck. The relief was instant but not nearly enough. Lewis smiled at me with a nod before quietly walking away. 

Max crossed his arms, still glaring toward the media pen. "If the FIA doesn’t do something about this, I will."

I shook my head slightly. "You can’t—"

"Watch me."

I sighed, but deep down, I was grateful.

—

The cold water from earlier had long since lost its effect, leaving only a dull, lingering coolness that did nothing to combat the growing weight pressing down on me.

I sat on the edge of my bed in my drivers’ room, fully suited up, my helmet resting beside me as I finished the last bottle of water I could stomach. Every sip felt like a lifeline, a desperate attempt to build a reserve before the inevitable heat drained it all away. Today was hotter than any session before, and I knew—we all knew—this race would be a battle of survival just as much as it would be a battle for position.

I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back, trying to focus my mind. You’ve done this before. You can do it again. You just have to push through.

My fingers curled into fists against my thighs before I finally grabbed my helmet, slipping it on and locking myself in. This was it. No turning back now.

I pushed open the door and stepped out into the chaos of the garage.

—

The first laps of the race were smooth. I focused on keeping the tires in check, my pace steady, not taking unnecessary risks. The heat was already settling in, pressing against me like a second race suit, but I’d prepared for this.

Then, somewhere around the middle of the race, I hit the water button for the fifth time.

The familiar small tube inside my helmet released a shot of liquid into my mouth. The moment it touched my tongue, I gagged. It wasn’t cool anymore. It wasn’t even lukewarm. It was hot.

I spat it out instinctively, the taste bitter and almost nauseating.

"Water’s boiling," I muttered into the radio, shifting my focus back to the track.

Diego’s voice came through, calm but firm. "Copy, Ghost. Just do what you can. We’ll monitor your vitals."

I clenched my jaw. I already knew what that meant. They were watching my performance, my inputs, my pace. They’d pull me if they thought I was fading.

I wasn’t going to let that happen.

Laps blurred together. My mouth was dry, my throat raw from the heat. My hands were slippery inside my gloves, and every breath felt heavier than the last. I had stopped sweating at some point—not because the heat had lessened, but because my body had nothing left to give.

"Ghost, you need to think about retiring," Diego’s voice came through again, a little more insistent now. "We can see the drop-off. It’s okay."

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. "No. I can finish."

Even if I had to drag myself to the checkered flag.

"Ghost—"

"Who’s out?" I cut him off, forcing the words out through gritted teeth.

There was a pause before he answered. "Doohan, Lawson, and Stroll. They’ve all retired due to the heat."

I exhaled sharply. That could’ve been me. It still could be me.

But I wasn’t done. I wasn’t finished.

I tightened my grip on the wheel, ignoring the way my vision was beginning to blur at the edges.

"Not yet," I murmured.

Then I pressed forward.

—

The moment I stopped, my body betrayed me.

I had done it—I finished the race in P6. Franco had taken P5. But there was no relief, no triumph. Only the crushing weight of exhaustion bearing down on me like a collapsing ceiling.

As I pulled into Parc Fermé, the heat that had been suffocating me all race now pressed into my skull like a vice. My vision blurred as I tried to breathe through the nausea clawing at my throat. My arms felt detached, as if they were no longer mine to command. The entire world had narrowed down to a pounding in my head and the tremors that I could no longer ignore.

This is bad. This is really bad.

I fumbled with the steering wheel, fingers trembling too hard to properly unclip it. I finally managed to yank it off, dropping it onto the nose as I reached for the halo, trying to pull myself up. My muscles screamed, burning with a fire that wasn’t just exertion—this was something worse.

My foot barely found purchase as I tried to climb out, and the second I attempted to push myself up, my strength gave out. My body slumped forward, upper torso flopping limply over the halo, my arms barely holding me up as my head hung between them. My breath came in sharp, rapid bursts, my lungs fighting against the stifling heat trapped inside my race suit.

I wasn’t just exhausted. I was failing.

Panic twisted deep in my chest, feeding into the violent shudders racking my body. My helmet felt suffocating, my suit like a second layer of burning skin. I was shaking uncontrollably, my fingers barely gripping onto the car to keep me from collapsing completely. My heart slammed against my ribs, too fast, too much—

"Breathe—breathe—" I gasped to myself, but I couldn’t.

I barely registered the footsteps rushing toward me until two familiar voices called out—

"Whoa, whoa, hey—"

"Shit—Ghost! Are you okay?!"

Ollie and Kimi.

I felt hands on me—strong, steady hands. One of them gripped my waist while the other reached for my arms, carefully but urgently trying to pull me the rest of the way out of the car. My legs buckled the second my weight shifted, but they caught me before I could hit the ground.

"She’s burning up," Ollie cursed, adjusting his hold as he and Kimi fully hoisted me up between them.

The movement made the nausea spike—the world tilted violently, a wave of dizziness crashing into me like a tidal force. I groaned softly, my head rolling against Kimi’s shoulder. The tremors in my body worsened. My knees refused to hold me, leaving all of my weight pressed into them.

"We need to get him out of here—now," Kimi said, voice tight with concern.

"Franco—" Ollie called over his shoulder, but Franco was already moving.

I barely tracked his blurred figure before he turned and sprinted towards the garage. I heard his frantic voice shouting something about Nico, ice, water, bath—but it all faded into static.

Another set of hands found me—Oscar.

"Come on, let’s get him back—" he said, already helping them move.

I didn’t have the strength to respond, to fight back against the way my vision kept fading in and out.

The three of them half-carried, half-dragged me up the pit lane. My body swayed uselessly, my legs numb beneath me, my head lolling forward and back.

I barely registered Lando’s voice until I heard his sharp inhale—

"What the hell—? Hey—what’s wrong with him?"

The shuffle of hurried steps.

Max’s voice.

"Move—what happened? What’s going on?!"

Their voices were frantic, but I couldn’t focus.

The only thing I could do was press my head against Kimi’s shoulder, my body burning and trembling and fading, fading—

The last thing I felt before my mind slipped further into the haze was the grip of their hands tightening around me.

Holding me up. Keeping me safe.

—

The cold hit me like a freight train.

A sharp, biting shock that sent a jolt through my entire body, dragging me out of the suffocating haze of unconsciousness. My skin burned from the contrast—heat still radiating off me, clashing violently against the icy water.

I groaned, head lolling to the side as I tried to blink my vision clear.

"Hey—hey, she’s waking up."

The voice was Franco’s, tight with concern.

My sluggish mind took a moment to catch up—to register that I wasn’t in the car anymore, that my helmet was gone, my race suit stripped away. I was submerged up to my chest in ice water, wearing only the thin layer of fireproofs that clung uncomfortably to my damp skin.

A firm but careful grip pressed against my shoulders—Nico.

"Easy," he murmured, steady and grounding. "Just breathe, y/n. You need to stay in the bath a little longer."

Everything still felt wrong.

My limbs were too heavy, my lungs too tight, the room too cold yet my skin too hot. My body couldn’t decide whether it was freezing or burning, and the overwhelming confusion of it all sent my mind spiraling.

"W-What—" My voice cracked—raw, hoarse.

I winced at the sound, my throat aching like I had swallowed sandpaper.

"You overheated, bad," Kimi said, leaning closer. His face was creased with worry. "We had to get you in here fast. You passed out completely."

"You scared the hell out of us," Ollie added, his usual teasing lilt nowhere in his voice.

I swallowed thickly, eyes darting around the dimly lit drivers’ room, heart rate already climbing from the weight of their words.

I had pushed too far.

I had scared them.

I had failed.

The thought hit me like a slap to the face, and suddenly, the tightness in my chest worsened.

The trembling in my hands turned into violent shakes, my breath shuddering as something clawed its way up my throat—not nausea this time, but panic. Full-blown panic.

I felt trapped in my own body.

"No—no, no, no—" I barely gasped out, my breathing spiraling into sharp, erratic bursts.

The ice bath felt too deep.

The cold was too much.

The room was spinning—

"Shit, she’s panicking," Franco cursed, immediately shifting closer. "Hey—hey, look at me."

I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I was shaking too much, heart slamming against my ribs, my vision swimming as every exhausted nerve in my body screamed at once.

Nico held me firm.

His grip on my shoulders tightened just enough to keep me grounded, his voice level as he spoke—"Breathe, kid. Don’t fight it. Just let it pass."

"You’re safe, y/n," Ollie’s voice cut through the haze, softer now. "We’re right here. You’re okay."

"You’re not alone," Kimi added, his usual stoicism cracking just enough for me to hear the genuine concern beneath it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, struggling to pull myself out of the panic’s grip.

Just breathe.

I sucked in a shaky breath. Then another. And another.

Slowly, painfully, the tightness in my chest loosened, the suffocating weight on my ribs easing—not gone, but manageable.

When I finally blinked my eyes open again, tears had slipped down my flushed cheeks, mixing with the cold water clinging to my skin.

I sniffled, embarrassed, trying to shake it off—

But Ollie just huffed a quiet laugh and reached out, gently brushing the pads of his fingers beneath my eyes to wipe them away.

"You look awful," he teased lightly, though the relief in his voice was obvious. "But at least you’re back with us."

I let out a weak breath—something close to a laugh, but more of a tired exhale.

"Thanks, Ollie."

"Anytime, y/n."

There was a beat of silence before Franco sighed, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

"We gotta go, though. Cooldown debriefs and all."

I nodded, though I still felt too weak to fully sit up on my own.

Kimi, Ollie, and Franco hesitated before leaving, their gazes lingering on me, as if making sure I wouldn’t crumble the second they walked out the door.

"Go," I rasped, offering a small nod. "I’ll be fine."

It took another beat, but eventually, they filed out, leaving only Nico behind.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just sat on the stool beside the tub, watching me carefully as I tried to even out my breath.

Then—quietly—he handed me a bottle of water.

"Drink, kid."

I did.

—

The walk to media duties felt longer than usual.

My body was still aching, my skin still hot despite the ice bath, but at least I could move without my legs threatening to give out beneath me. The hoodie and sweats Nico had given me felt heavy, but they helped me still hide my feminine figure without having to put my race suit back on.

Helmet back on. Voice changer activated. Persona intact.

I was Ghost again.

Not the girl who had almost collapsed from heat exhaustion. Not the one who had panicked in the ice bath.

Just Ghost.

I had just rounded the corner when I nearly crashed into someone.

"Whoa—"

I barely had time to process before I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder, steadying me.

"Are you even okay to be walking around?"

Oscar.

I lifted my head slightly, immediately greeted by the sight of Oscar, Max, and Lando, all three of them looking me over like I might drop at any second.

Oscar’s expression was tight with concern, his eyes scanning me as if searching for any sign of weakness beneath the hoodie and sweats.

Max and Lando, on the other hand—they just looked pissed.

"Ghost, what the hell were you thinking?" Lando’s voice was sharper than usual, his usual playfulness nowhere to be found.

"You could have passed out behind the wheel!" Max snapped, arms crossing over his chest.

"You’re lucky you even made it to the end without crashing," Lando added, eyes narrowing.

I sighed, already feeling the exhaustion creep back in. "Guys, I finished the race. I’m fine."

"Fine?" Max echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You couldn’t even get out of your damn car! You had to be carried to your garage!"

"We saw you, mate," Lando said, shaking his head. "You scared the shit out of us."

Oscar, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke—his voice softer, but no less firm.

"You should’ve retired, Ghost."

I clenched my jaw beneath my helmet, fingers curling into fists at my sides.

They didn’t get it.

I had something to prove.

After everything—after spending the entire season fighting for my place, for my right to be here, for my strength—I couldn’t just quit.

Not when I was still standing.

"I couldn’t," I muttered, my voice low.

Max let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "You’re a damn idiot."

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, no kidding. You think you’re proving a point by pushing through this kind of shit? You’re just proving you have no self-preservation instincts."

"Lando—" Oscar started, but the Brit just kept going.

"Seriously, mate, what’s the point of all this secrecy, the helmet, the voice changer, if you’re just gonna race yourself into the damn grave?"

My chest tightened.

They didn’t understand.

"I finished the race," I said again, my voice stronger this time.

Max let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, and nearly fucking died doing it."

There was a beat of silence.

I didn’t know what to say.

Because deep down, I knew they were right.

I had been stupid. I had risked everything.

But at the same time—I couldn’t regret it.

"I had to," I finally whispered.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples. "You didn’t have to. You just thought you did."

Max took a step closer, his voice lower now. "Don’t do that again."

"Max—"

"I mean it, Ghost." His eyes burned into mine through the visor of my helmet. "Don’t pull that shit again."

Lando exhaled, shaking his head. "If you ever scare us like that again, I swear to god—"

"What? You'll do what?" I challenged, tilting my head.

"We’ll fucking drag you out of the car ourselves next time," Lando shot back, dead serious.

I stared at them for a long moment before exhaling quietly.

"Noted."

Oscar sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just… promise you’ll take it easy for the rest of the day."

I hesitated—then gave a small nod.

"Fine."

Max and Lando exchanged a look, clearly not satisfied, but knowing they wouldn’t get much more out of me.

"Good," Max muttered. "Now go do those stupid media duties before we get in trouble for holding you up."

I let out a breath, turning toward the media pen.

I could still feel their eyes on me as I walked away.

—

The questions had been relentless since the moment I stepped into the media pen.

I had answered what felt like a hundred different versions of "How are you feeling?" and "Was the heat the toughest challenge today?" while keeping my voice steady, my responses measured.

I could still feel the weight of Max, Lando, and Oscar’s words from earlier pressing against my chest.

"You think you’re proving a point by pushing through this kind of shit?"

"You just thought you had to."

"Don’t pull that shit again."

I had brushed them off, insisted I was fine, but deep down, the doubt had already started to sink in.

And then—I heard Jack’s name.

"Jack, do you think Ghost finishing the race today proves that you gave up too soon?"

My stomach twisted.

I turned my head slightly, listening as Jack’s tone sharpened in response.

"You think I wanted to retire?" His voice was laced with frustration, the exhaustion from the race still evident. "I had no choice. I was on the verge of passing out in the car—what the hell was I supposed to do? Just push through it like an idiot?"

The reporters kept pushing, eager to stoke the flames.

"Well, Ghost did."

That set him off.

"Yeah, and look at them! Couldn’t even get out of the car! You think that’s smart? You think that’s proving a point? That’s just reckless."

My chest tightened.

They had gotten to him.

I knew what they were doing—trying to manufacture a rivalry, to paint one of us as weaker, the other as stronger, to get some headline-worthy soundbite out of him.

And Jack—he was giving them exactly what they wanted.

"Do you regret your decision now that you see what Ghost was capable of?"

Jack let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Capable of? They nearly collapsed. That’s not capability—that’s stupidity. If anything, I feel bad for them."

I didn’t have time to process the sting in his words before I was being called up for my own interview.

The second I stepped forward, I could already see the smirks on the reporters’ faces.

They were waiting. Waiting for me to bite.

"Ghost, we just spoke with Jack, and he had some strong words about your decision to finish the race today—"

"Jack said you were reckless—"

"He implied he felt bad for you—"

"Do you have anything to say in response?"

I could feel the heat behind my visor—not from the temperature, but from the frustration simmering in my chest.

I could shut Jack down. I could bite back.

But that’s what they wanted.

Instead, I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay calm as I answered.

"I don’t blame Jack for anything he said," I started, my tone even. "But I think the real problem is how often these kinds of comparisons are made in the first place."

The interviewer blinked, caught off guard.

I continued.

"Jack did the right thing today. He recognized his limits. He chose to put his health first. That takes strength. That takes intelligence. He made the smart call—something I wasn’t able to do."

A few reporters shifted uncomfortably at my words.

"I let my ego get in the way," I admitted, my fingers curling into the sleeves of my hoodie. "I finished the race, sure. But at what cost? I put myself at risk. I let myself believe that stopping would be a weakness, not to myself, but to the public, to you. But looking back… I think Jack was stronger than me today."

A beat of silence.

The interviewers weren’t expecting this.

They wanted drama. Fuel for a rivalry.

Instead, I had taken the wind out of their sails.

"So no, I don’t have anything to say against Jack. What I do have a problem with is the way we push drivers to view each other as competition in moments like this—when really, we should be focusing on the bigger picture. None of us should have been racing in these conditions. And Jack made the right call."

The interviewers exchanged glances, realizing they weren’t going to get what they wanted out of me.

I just stood there, breathing steadily, finally understanding what Max, Lando, and Oscar had been so pissed about earlier.

I had been an idiot. And for the first time, I was willing to admit it.

Masterlist

Taglist: @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @wierdflowerpower @imlonelydontsendhelp @thatsnotaddy @freyathehuntress @angelluv16

[multifandomfanficss]

Never Listen To Venkman

Egon Spengler x Reader

(With platonic!Peter Venkman)

Prompt: When you and Peter are left alone to experiment with a suspicious, blue, viscous slime, things go south and Egon comes home to you having a paranormal induced panic attack.

Warnings: panic attacks, autistic meltdowns, sensory issues, detailed descriptions of sensory issues, feeling uncomfortable in one’s own skin.

A/N: Back in my Ghostbusters era. It is contractually obligated that I must re-obsess every time a new movie comes out. I’ve loved Egon since I was a little kid. I can’t believe I’ve never written for him. The italics are flashbacks. This is crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

The reader is intended to be autistic, but can be read any way you’d like. Anyone is allowed to relate and see themselves in the reader wether they’re autistic or not!

You were sitting at your desk with in your small shared lab with Egon in the firehouse when you heard footsteps. You thought you had been home alone until Peter walked in.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going on a double date with Winston while Ray and Egon were at the movie.” You questioned him, putting down your pen. You had been taking notes on a new kind of slime the boys had found. It was different from the other slime they’d found last month when Vigo was trying to take over. While Vigo’s slime was pink in color, this slime was blue and had a more viscous consistency.

“Oscar had a fever, so Dana and I decided to cancel. She thinks he’s getting his first tooth.” Peter smiles. Despite the jokes he’s made and the amount of times he’s said he was nowhere near ready to be a father, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy being back with Dana again and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love Oscar just as much as he loved her.

“Did Winston still go?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. He’s probably back in her apartment with the bed rocking as we speak. No way he’s coming home tonight.” Peter laughed at his own joke as you cringe.

“You’re disgusting.” You roll your eyes.

“What are you up to tonight? Got a hot date with a slime? Not too different from your usual dating life.” He chuckles.

“You’re such a dick, Venkman. I figured while everybody was out tonight I’d try to find out SOMETHING about this new slime. Egon and I have been studying it for two days and we have literally nothing.” You gesture to the blue goo on your desk.

“Do you need help?” He asks.

“Are you offering to help me on your night off?” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Peter shrugs.

“Are you gonna take it seriously?” You hesitate.

“I’m always serious!” Peter bluffs. Peter was never serious. Egon was always serious. His bluntness and black and white thinking had always been a comfort to you. He wasn’t some puzzle you had to figure out. He just was. Being with him wasn’t a guessing game the same way it was with Peter.

“Somehow that’s hard to believe, but I could really use your expertise in parapsychology, so I’ll say yes.” You sigh. You know this probably isn’t the best idea, but Peter knows more about this topic than you do. You’d be stupid to reject his help.

“If you’ll be the subject, I’ll run the experiment.” He says, taking out the helmet with wires.

“Okay.” You agree. Once the helmet is on you should be connected to a series of machines able to read the energy of your emotions, as well as the slime itself, giving you a more direct connection without touching. Peter starts asking you a series of questions, trying to draw different emotional responses.

“Think of a time when you were happy, really happy.” He prompts. Your mind, wandered around the room, trying to think of something, when your eyes landed on Egon’s book sitting on his desk.

It made you think of the first time you realized you had deep feelings for him. While you’d always thought he was attractive, you realized your feelings were deeper than you thought, far beyond a harmless little crush, one day when he let you borrow his book. As you read his notes in the margins you were able to analyze things like him, see the world through his eyes. You saw how his brain connected and processed things. You always liked the person he’d shown you, but writing in the margins is different. When you take notes in a book, you’re not putting on a mask for people to see. Notes in the margins are just for you. There’re your unfiltered thoughts. Seeing who Egon was when nobody was watching was different. He was funny, smart, deep, curious, not as confident as he pretended to be; he didn’t censor himself in his books. He wasn’t quiet in his books. Reading his margins felt intimate.

“You’re thinking about Spengler, aren’t you?” Venkman teases.

“Why would you say that?” You look at him, embarrassed.

“Because you’re in loooooove!” Peter mocks.

“Can we change the subject?” You practically beg.

“Think of a moment where you were uncomfortable.” Peter prompts.

“This conversation.” You fiddle with your fingers.

“No, really. I wanna see how it reacts to discomfort.”

“Fine.” You sigh. You think back to one of your many lab accidents. Working in a lab with sensory issues is never easy and that was something you and Egon both struggled with.

You think back to the day when you superglued your fingers shut by accident. You got them apart, but you couldn’t get the the residue off. You started to hyperventilate, on the verge of tears. You wanted to hit your hands on things, but you knew that wouldn’t help. You couldn’t peel off the glue without peeling off your skin.

“What’s wrong?” Egon looked at you puzzled, and a bit worried.

“Superglue! I- I- I can’t get it off!” You shake your hands, violently, your whole body is tensed up.

Egon quickly takes a bottle out from his desk drawer and runs over to you. He grabs your hands.

“Look at me, (Y/N). It’s okay. I’ll take off all the residue.” He promises, giving you a soft smile. Despite not liking seeing you in such discomfort, he forces the smile to help calm you down. He begins to massage the liquid from the bottle onto your fingers with a rag.

“See, it’s okay. It’s coming off.” He continues to speak softly, calming you.

“What is that stuff?” You ask.

“I wish I could say it’s some sort of fancy, scientific, protective disinfectant, but as it so happens it’s only nail polish remover.” You both chuckle quietly. “Janine gave it to me the last time I got superglue on something and couldn’t get it off.” He smiles down at your hands, still focused on getting the last little bit off.

“This slime is so different from the mood slime. I thought I saw it let go of a bubble, but it’s mostly doing nothing. I think it might be dead. I think it might be time to bury it in the backyard.” Peter begins to fake sob.

“Knock it off.” You laugh. “What backyard? This is Manhattan!”

“You should try touching it.” Peter suggests.

“Egon, said I should under no circumstances touch it directly, especially while he’s not here.” You inform him.

“Well Egon, is being overprotective. Nothing bad happened when everyone else touched the pink slime and I accidentally ate green slime once.” Venkman says.

“What do you mean accidentally?” You ask.

“It was our first mission. Slimer ran through me. It was a whole thing. I think you should touch it… You might be able to figure out what it is before Spengler gets back…” He tries to change your mind.

“You’re sure there were no serious side effects from touching the other slimes?” You ask, hesitantly. Egon would be annoyed if he found out you went against his pleas to keep your hands away from the plasma, but you wanted to impress him.

“Nothing serious. I grew an extra pinky, but they cut it off.” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny, Venkman.” You roll your eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking a deep breath before plunging your hand into the blue viscous goo. “Oh…This is literally fine.” You feel no effect, but when your heart rate picks up you realize you spoke too soon. You fall onto the floor, knocking over the slime. You feel like your heart is racing, like it could beat out of your chest and you can’t suck enough air into your lungs. You’re terrified.

“(Y/N)!” Peter yells, rushing to the floor to help you. He tries to touch the the hand not covered in blue slime, but you push him away, sobbing. You don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re slipping away from reality into a deep state of panic and paranoia.

“Please! No!” You sob. It’s the only thing you can manage to get out. You barley recognize Peter anymore. He doesn’t feel like a friend. He feels like a threat.

“Honestly, the movie was quite terrible. Ray stopped for a 99 cent pizza on the corner. What did you- (Y/N)?!” Egon speaks as he enters the room, cutting himself off when he notices you’re in distress.

“Pete, what happened?!” Egon questions once he sees Venkman.

“We were doing an experiment and they touched the goo and they just started freaking out. They won’t let me near them.” Peter tells him, obviously shaken. You hear the two men, but you don’t process them. It’s like you’re underwater.

“This is different from their usual sensory issues. I think they’re having a panic attack.” Egon kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in the firehouse. I’m here.” He tells you slowly.

“I- I can’t breathe!” You gasp for air.

“Your lungs are expanding and contracting at a rate too fast for your body to intake oxygen. I need you to try to breathe slow and deep with me. In…and out. Nice and slow.” He prompts. “Peter, I need latex gloves and towels.” Venkman could have made multiple jokes about Egon’s command, but looking at you this way made him uneasy. It wasn’t the right time. After being handed the gloves, Egon slipped them on and got to work cleaning off your slime covered arm. You begin to sob, overwhelmed by the feeling of the slime, the latex gloves, and the towel. It was difficult to handle on top of your panic attack. “Peter, we need to get them into the decontamination shower.”

“No!” You gasp between sobs.

“Come, on. I’ll go with you. We can get all the plasma off of you.” Egon speaks softly, but with a gentle urgency, as he tries to coax you to the shower. You shake your head no. “Are you against touch right now?” He asks.

“They did not like when I touched them.” Venkman warns.

“Only you-“ You break out in a sob. It doesn’t even cross your mind that you may be offending Peter by only wanting Egon. Luckily he’s not offended. Egon begins to take off his glove to provide skin to skin contact on the arm not drenched in slime in an effort to comfort you.

“Aren’t you worried about getting that stuff on you?” Venkman questions, worried Egon will shutdown like you.

“I’m getting in the decontamination shower anyway.” Egon shrugs, turning to you. He takes your hand in his, softly rubbing the top with his thumb.

“But- but your clothes will get all wet!” You sob. You knew Egon had his own sensory issues. You’d often have to help him when his long sleeves would get wet during experiments. It would drive him crazy. He avoided puddles like the plague and always had an umbrella nearby.

“Try not to worry about me right now. I just want you to focus on your breathing. I can always change my clothes.” He smiles. While it hurts him to see you so distressed, he was happy to know you cared about his comfort. “Let’s go shower. You can’t leave all that slime on you. I believe it’s worsening your mental state.” You nod, still crying.

“I’ll get them under the shower, I’ll need you to turn it on. Make sure not to touch the slime. I got a minuscule amount on my finger and it’s making me rather anxious. I can only imagine what this amount is doing to them.” Egon tells Peter. He helps you to stand, walking your trembling form over to the shower. “There we go. Just a few more steps. You’re doing wonderfully, (Y/N).” Egon softly attempts to comfort you.

Once you’re under the shower head, Venkman turns it on. Both you and Egon jolt at the sudden water pressure. He tightens both his jaw and his grip on you, holding his eyes shut tight. He can’t stand the feeling of his wet clothes against his body, but he’s brave for you. Once adjusted to the water, Egon begins to wash the slime off your body with care. Peter leaves to go upstairs and get you some towels. You feel the panic and paranoia start to leave your body. Despite still being incredibly anxious, you were starting to phase out of your slime induced panic attack. You lean against Egon, struggling to hold your own body weight. Maybe you’ll be more embarrassed tomorrow, but right now you just needed to be held. You were craving pressure on your body. You felt as if you would float off the ground if you weren’t held down. Egon wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer. He places a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on top of your head. You snuggled into his chest, finding his pulse. You didn’t have the time or the bandwidth in your brain to think about what the kiss meant. You just wanted to be close to him.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). You’re safe.” Egon tells you. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his. It’s for both, really.

You’re quiet for most of the night, unable to bring yourself to speak. Egon doesn’t mind. He thinks a verbal shutdown is more than understandable after the night you’ve had. After the shower, you follow Egon around the fire station. You don’t want to be alone right now. He doesn’t mind. He puts out some of his clothes for you to wear; pajama pants and one of his soft sweaters. He goes to leave the room for you to change, but you stop him.

“Can- can we just like? Turn around?” You ask. “I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable, that’s okay. I just really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You voice is hoarse from crying.

“Of course.” He smiles, turning around.

“I’m decent.” He informs you after a minute of rustling.

“Me too.” You tell him and you both turn around.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, near tears again. You feel awful for how tonight went. This was supposed to be the boys’ day off. Egon gives you a sad look.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. Venkman told me he put you up to it anyway.” Egon sighs.

“I probably shouldn’t have listened to him.” You let out a sad chuckle, one tear slipping past you, down your cheek. You wipe it quickly.

“Never listen to Venkman.” Egon gives a sad laugh.

“At least we figured out what the slime does… Egon, can I ask you a question?” You hesitate.

“Well, you just did, but yes.” He smiles, joking to lighten the mood. You smile at him.

“Why did you do all that? You took off your gloves, putting yourself at risk and then you put yourself through sensory hell just to get me cleaned up.” You question him.

“Isn’t it obvious? (Y/N), I care about you.” You look at him, thinking about the tone in his words. You can’t quite decipher it, but there’s something else there. Is it possible he could feel the same way about you that you feel about him? “You should get some sleep.” He interrupts your thoughts. “If you’d rather not be alone, you may sleep in my room tonight. I would find it beneficial to monitor you overnight to watch for long lasting effects, anyway.” He adds.

“Only if that’s okay with you.” You hesitate.

“Of course it’s okay with me. I just suggested it.” He smiles.

Once you’re settled into bed, Egon turns off the lights and climbs in next to you.

“Egon, I’m still anxious.” You blurt out into the dark.

“Do you need pressure?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say, hoping he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he scoops you into his arms. You cuddle into his chest, surrounded by him, surrounded by safety. You know this should be weird, but it doesn’t feel weird. As Egon kisses the top of your forehead again, bidding you goodnight, you wonder what this all means. You wonder what you are to each other. You feel you’ve crossed the line as friends, but you’re too tired and too awkward and too anxious to talk about labels. You and Egon never quite fit into boxes as people anyway. Your relationship didn’t need to either. Whatever this was between you was comforting. It was safe and it was going to help you sleep tonight.

[yanderederee]

BikeRide

May15th, 2004

tw;mentions of child abuse

before! › here! › after!

-just after the events of DoubleDate…-

Baji has drove down practically every road he knew existed. He loved his bike deeply, and made sure to take good care of it to keep it spotless and loud.

Driving down the road, he almost forgot he should be keeping a slower pace. It wasn’t like he was going fast, contrary to unanimous belief, Baji Mostly followed the law of the road. The only times he really said fuck the speed limit was during the night hours, when his bike roared its loudest, and the streets were at their clearest.

After being caught at a red light, Baji was careful pulling the breaks. “So, how is it? Need me to slow down?” He yelled over his shoulder.

“It’s fine! Just gatta get used to how loud it is!” You yelled back, giggling a little. He smirked. “Anywhere you’re lookin’ to go?” He asked.

A few seconds of deliberation, and you shook your head, smiling. “Surprise me.”

You could barely make out the road over his shoulder, your chin resting against his right back muscle. The street was going by in a way you’d never experienced. Neither of you did much talking. He was too focused on both driving, and how your arms would loosley remain looped around him even when you were leaning back a tad, the air whipping whatever hair peeking out from your helmet.

Being on a bike felt so exhilarating. It felt good. Emotional, you smiled, and rested your forehead against Baji’s back.

“You good?” He yelled out, slowing the motor just a bit so lesson the sound to hear you back.

But your reply wasn’t verbal. Instead, you hugged him from behind, and nodded your head, and he could tell what with your face rubbing against the back of his shirt.

Baji smiled.

“Hang tight, got ‘bout a half hour drive. You ready?” He asked, another red right, and a turn signal indicating he would be traveling Highway.

You grinned, doing your best to look at him, as he was looking back for you.

Through the helmet’s visor, you both caught each others stare, and each others heart skipped a beat. “Ready for anything.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

28 Minutes later, and you noticed the ocean coming into view.

Guess he took your statement to surprise you pretty seriously. Because surprised you were, as you gasped with glee.

How cute.

Once he parked, you could see the sign for Rainbow Bridge. “Figure you haven’t been around this way.”

“I thought you said you were driving me around Shibuya.” you said back, the helmet popping off your head like a doll accessory.

“Eh, plans change.” He chuckled, and helped ease you off the bike. Walking down, you saw a few people line the sand, but no crowding.

“You like taiyaki?” Baji asked you. You rose an eyebrow. “Don’t think I know anyone who doesn’t, why?” You asked back.

“There’s a place on the way back Mikey likes. Thought I’d stop by to grab him some before the meet up tonight.”

You nodded. “I’d like that…” you said, looking out to the waves. He was right, somehow. You hadn’t seen the ocean in a really long time. You tried not to wander the thought, but somehow a churning in your chest wrinkled your eyebrows forward.

Baji noticed this. He stayed quiet for a while, but the feeling Chifuyu left him with made him think he should say something.

Chifuyu was making strides in learning things about you. Your interests and insecurities. Baji didn’t have the nerve to bring it up. He knew there was something there. Your parents, the way you divert attention and remove everyone from your life to avoid… something.

He wanted to know more about you.

“Did you used to come to the beach?” He asked.

You blinked. “Uh, not really.” you said softly, looking out deeper. “Maybe once or twice. Not often.”

You weren’t lying. He could tell. But there was still something there, circling around that head of yours.

Baji Keisuke wasn’t smart. He didn’t know what was the right thing to do sometimes, but he always stood by what he believed in. He had to reach.

“What’re you thinking about?”

he asked, plainly. You snapped your head over to him, eye brows still wrinkled in frustration.

His own gaze stayed out at sea, the quiet leaving room for the waves to help you think.

Slowly, you looked back to the sea too.

“Nothing particular.”

It was quiet once again. Baji couldn’t think of what to say.

He wasn’t sure how asking you up front about your issues would help, or backing you into a corner. You could very well shut him out then and there.

He had an idea of what you had going on. He glanced at you. You did not reciprocate.

Baji looked back out to sea.

“I have this friend,” he started. “Kazutora.”

“He was a insecure little brat who didn’t realize his friends were using him for his money. He only had money cause of his shitty dad. But Kazutora was a good kid. He stood up for his friends, shitty as they were to him.”

Baji looked down, a pinch of hurt making through the cracks. “We both… made a mistake.” He confessed. You looked over at Baji, whose hurt expression only stayed stagnant.

“We both fucked up. We bare the same sin. But he’s the one who swung the damn wrench.”

Baji clenched his fists tight.

“He couldn’t handle what he’d done. The shock of it all scared him shitless.” He looked down at your thoughtful expression. Probably trying to figure out why he was telling you this in the first place.

“His dad was… well, he was a shitty and harsh guy, t’say the least. Kazutora never told me much about him, I just saw some of the aftermath, at first.”

“But that night, I think I saw how bad his dad had fucked him up. The way he was talking, devoid of blame… to protect himself. Inside, he’s a fragile guy. Accepting the reality of what he did would have shattered him, yaknow..” he swallowed hard.

“So he… made up all kinds of shit in his head. Things that didn’t even make sense. And yaknow what?” Baji chuckled humorlessly. “I blame that son of a bitch sometimes. His dad.”

“I had a lot of time to think about it. I didn’t get the shit he was saying back then. But I get it a little better now.” He looked down at his feet. “Kazutora‘s family messed him up. And after he killed Shin… I think that’s why he’s became how he is.”

You looked up at Baji’s angry face, a little confused. “And… how is he now?” You asked.

Baji sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Completely batshit delusional.”

“You don’t want the specifics,” you did. “But he isn’t in a good state of mind. Literally can’t accept responsibility. I think if he did, he’d… he’d probably hurt himself, like how he hurt Shin.”

Baji looked back at you, the story bringing each other’s vulnerability to the surface.

“But you remind me of him sometimes.”

You gapped at him in surprise, but didn’t say anything. He chuckled.

“Like I said, not a Bad way. “ he ruffled your hair.

“Can’t think of anything specific right now, but… you act like him sometimes, about your parents. The way you avoid talking about them..” turning his body so that he was facing toward you, looking serious and sentimental.

“I couldn’t protect Kazutora. Can’t go back in time, but I can at least do the shit I think is right now. Right?” He shook his head.

“You’re worried that eventually, something will happen, and change me into someone... else.” You said softly, straightening your posture and avoiding his set stare at you.

“You worry so much. It’s cute.” You chuckled, “but you don’t have worry about me. I’m very self-sufficient. And I’m smart, right? Nothing’s wrong-“ you tried to once again, deflect his topic. “I don’t think so.” He admitted, eyes still on yours.

“I just want you to be honest. I want to know more about you… and I can’t when you shut me out.”

You clinched unto yourself a little. As uncomfortable as the idea of opening up to someone felt… It was Baji. No one to feel scared around.

You let out a shaky smile. “It’s not important.” You said, almost sadly.

“Guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked, then hm?”

“Asked what?”

“What’s got you so shift eyed? I get that your dad’s strict, but there’s more to it. ‘Sup with your weird ass curfew? Your mom too?” He asked carefully.

“Dad…” you sighed, as though thinking about where to begin. “He…”

“He’s harsh. He works too hard at everything, and can’t handle anymore stress. He has a very strict routine, and expects nothing less of me. He proudly raised me, he reminds me often.”

“Mom’s always just been quiet and judgmental.” You rolled your eyes. “She doesn’t talk. I know what she expects of me. She doesn’t need to waste the effort.”

“They work off schedules, and I only see them both one night of the week. Dad refuses that I leave the house. And mom could literally not care less, long as I mind my respects.”

“It’s not bad.” You tried to divert, but the single tear that ran down your face gave you away.

“… you sure about that?” Baji asked softly. You knew he wasn’t trying to be pushy, but he knew more than you suspected.

The bruises from all the inconsiderate shoving or grab for attention. A back handed slap for a backhanded comment.

You couldn’t answer him. Not verbally.

Your face tore into a guilty expression. Yet you remained composed. Biting your bottom lip and trying to blink back the tears that the memories surfaced.

“This,” Baji said softly, and gently reached out, tapping his index and middle finger onto your covered wrist.

“Did he do that?”

You sighed, wrapping your other arm around to avoid his almost touch.

“It’s not important. I handle myself just fine. Once I’m old enough I’ll move out and it’ll be in the past.”

“Just cause you pretend it isn’t happening doesn’t mean that shit doesn’t affect you.”

“I’m not affected,” you tried diverting, but he was right, and it was becoming overwhelming.

“That why you’re crying?” He asked, making you hiss in betrayal.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here Keisuke.” You roughed out.

“I want you to get angry,” he started, in an argumentative tone.

“Why? I’ve accepted that it’s just the way things are. How he will be until I get out.”

“Shouldn’t accept that shit.”

“Well too bad!” You yelled, heat eating up your neck. “I’m tired of crying about it! Getting upset about it only hurts, it’s easier to just ignore it.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough; There’s always something I did wrong, or somehow I should have known better!

“I’m tired of trying to get his approval, it doesn’t mean anything! He only cares about how I represent the family. All I’m good for is— I.. I’m just a waste of fucking space. I don’t care anymore.” You got out, frustrated. You went into hiding then, crouching into the fetal position, hiding your face in your knees.

“I don’t care anymore.” You said softly, small sobs racking you unwillingly.

Baji sat there quietly. He did it, he guessed. Made you mad. Made you cry. Shit. Maybe he didn’t know what he was doing.

“… it’s normal to care about these things, yaknow.” He comforted. “Holding that shit in all the time is going to back you into a corner. I feel like you’ve pushed past a few breaking points already, haven’t you?”

You sniffled, rubbing the unnecessary emotion from your face. “It doesn’t matte-” you tried biting back, really not in the mood for this conversation. But Baji was a persistent mother fucker.

“‘Does fucking matter,” Baji was losing his patience. Baji Keisuke was hot headed and brash, thoughtful, and stupid. “I don’t care how strong you think you are, I’m serious. This feeling’s gonna eat you alive. You’re the most capable person I know. You’re responsible and resourceful, always handling yourself even when nothing is going right. You are not a waste of space. I-“

Baji paused, chocked up.

“Don’t take that shit,”

He was getting tired of your avoiding gaze, latching his left hand out to pull your cheek to look his way.

Your eyes were wide and red, glassy with tears built up from his harsh words. “You don’t take shit from anyone anymore, got that?” Eyes glued to yours, he practically ordered this. “He ever hits you again, don’t take it. You might not be able to hit back, but I sure as hell can,”

You laughed, genuine amusement whipping your face clean for a few moments, before coming back to scene. Baji smiled at you. “You can always crash at my place if you don’t feel safe, got it?” He regained your attention when you tried to release his hold on your cheek and avoid his hot gaze.

Your cheeks burned with how bold he suddenly became.

“I-I can’t just run away from my problems, yaknow..” you huffed, but tried relaxing in his presence. He did make you feel safe, even if you didn’t know how to talk about this.

“Then fight back.” He smirked. “I’ll tell him off right now if y’want.”

“Tell him off?” You chuckled. “What would you even say?”

“Y/n ain’t you’re fucking stress relief, damn prick! Show some respect, ‘f you don’t want me to knock you a tooth loose! Scum! Asshole!!”

You laughed pretty hard at that. Baji’s exaggerated display of delinquent rebellion speech was just too cute. “I love when you talk like that, seriously!” You couldn’t stop laughing, his cute smile pairing at the angelic sound of your joy.

“There you are,” Baji felt himself lightening up from the harsh mood before, happy to see you smiling again. “There’s my girl.”

You stopped at this, eyes widening at his bold name. This surprised him even more. Immediately catching himself, he slaps his hand over his mouth, face drenched in Red. “Not what I meant! I meant! Wait! D-don’t get any weird ideas!” He lied, spinning and spinning in words and excuses.

“I meant! I-I meant, you look more like yourself, now…” he tried calming his palpitating heart. “You’ve been really gloomy this last week… it’s just nice seeing you smile again.”

Your heart caught in your throat, holding back fresh tears.

What do you mean gloomy? He wasn’t wrong, you were having difficulties managing everything coming up, and the added stress of school and family was only dragging you further. “Guess I’m not that good at hiding things, huh?” You chucked without humor.

“Don’t hide it anymore,” he said. As though that was the moment he was waiting for. “Come to me about it. About everything,” he paused. “Anything,” he looked back into your eyes. “I like the real you. I want to be there for you when you struggle. When you feel like crying, or screaming. Tell me about anything that ticks you off, the things you can’t stand.” He rambled on, pouring his heart out.

He couldn’t help how vulnerable he was, letting you see all the shameless feelings. “I’ll treat you to cake at the cafe when you get a high test score, ‘n tell that bitch Futaba to fuck off next time she tries pawning her cleaning duties to you again.”

“T-that’s enough,” you whined and Baji’s heartfeltness. “I get it, I’ll… try not to worry you so much.”

“Ah-!” He hacked, how gross. “Got it mixed up again, honestly. For someone so smart, you just don’t get it!” He ruffled your hair dramatically, thumping his forehead against yours gently. “I worry bout you cause I want to, you just gatta let me, first. Let me be someone who can help you, even if you don’t need it. Not everything’s gatta be on only your shoulders.”

The tension was heavy; the slip of a confession so close on his tongue. Yet even with his passion reaching new heights, he still found himself tongue tied in what he should say next.

“…Gee, you sure know how to cheer a girl up….” You chuckled to yourself, a genuine smile finally breaking through.

And even though there was still so much to say, Baji felt himself cave back inwards, that smile of yours being enough to satiate his yearning heart.

“Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me … “

“Still. Thank you.”

“… Anytime.”

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

hello :) So have about we do a fanfic we’re reader is Knoxvilles daughter (she’s like 14-15 whatever) and she does stunts but not like the ones the guys do. So one stunt reader does a crazy stunt and gets very mildly hurt but papa Knoxville is not very happy and very worried???

sorry if this long asf 😭😭 ok bye bye love ya 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Knoxville’s Girl

When Johnny’s daughter does her first stunt (behind her father’s back, mind you) he isn’t very happy with his buddies who helped her out.

(Fluff)

1.1k Words

Warnings: Injuries, mention of underage drinking

An: Thank you so much for the request!! Sorry for the long wait in writing this but as a side note you always give me really interesting requests so thank you XD I decided to add in the fact Y/N skates in this fic because when I was 15 I was really adamant about learning. I never did, but I acquired quite a host of bruises as a result! I still have my old board lying around somewhere, I think…Anyways, thank you for the request and please keep them comming!!

Despite what most of America would think, your dad was one of the most responsible men you knew- at least, when it came to you. A lot of this negative press could be attributed to his whole line of work as a stunt man and generally rowdiness with his best friends who he was so close to that you often referred to them as your uncles. As far back as you could remember, you begged him to let you do stunts- it didn’t even have to be all that crazy, you told him. Hell, you would settle for antiquing one of the guys, but nooo. He would always give you the same reasoning, that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to his little girl. Sure, it was sweet, but it’s not like you were eight years old anymore- you were fifteen, and you could handle a few bruises, what with how you were learning to skateboard (and getting pretty damn good at it if you do say so yourself).

While you were forbidden from any stunts, you were allowed to hang out on set with the other guys in between takes. You spent most of your time sitting around with Bam, shooting the shit and talking about skateboarding for hours until he had to go run off and hurt himself more. One time, when Johnny wasn’t around, he even snuck you a beer from one of the coolers, which you tried really hard to make it look like you didn’t think it was gross. That's all to say that your dad didn’t think he was the best influence on you. You and Bam were pretty close, which is why it was him who you ranted to about all of your problems, “Ughh…my dad never lets me have any fun!” Rolling your eyes, you sat back in your seat as you crossed your arms, “I mean, I’m in high school now! All I wanna do is one stunt- just one!” Bam nodded, listening to you. After a silence, he took a drag off his cigarette and spoke, “I mean, I’m sure we could figure something out…” Your head shot up with these wide, excited eyes and you were practically squealing in disbelief, “Wait, really? Like- really really?!” Grinning at your eagerness, Bam shrugged, “Why not? Hell, I’ll get Steve-O in on it too- I’m sure he could come up with somethin’ that won’t get you old man’s panties in’a bunch.”

The idea came from, of all places, a Willie E. Coyote cartoon- you know, the whole ‘painting a tunnel on a wall and getting someone to run into it’ thing? It was Steve’s idea to put you on a skateboard. “C’mon, all you gotta do is drop in! You can’t fuck it up that bad, Y/N.” He was right, you thought. You’d dropped in a couple of times before at the skatepark and never once did you get hurt, which wouldn’t be a possibility this time around because Bam had the genius idea to put a helmet on you to eliminate any element of risk so there was no way Johnny would ‘get all pissy’ with them and also because it’s not a good idea to get your boss’s daughter concussed.

Poised at the top of the coping, you stared down in dislebeif at the drywall in front of you with the crudely painted tunnel on it that Bam was next to. On the other side was Steve who stood ready with the camera, angling it up as he waved at you. “Alright, little lady! We’re rollin’!” Okay, this was happening. It’s happening. Taking a deep breath, you nodded and, not wanting to look like a total pussy, swallowed any traces of tension you had before squeezing your eyes shut and shifting your weight forward. See, the thing is when you’re on a moving object, it’s kind of a good idea to keep your eyes open so you can, you know, see things. This thought didn’t cross your mind as you hurtled down the vert ramp before crashing into the wall- the wall that was supposed to shatter and leave you completely unscathed. The only problem was that it didn’t. Drywall entirely intact, you bounced off of it, landing on your back with this horrible, burning hot pain in your wrist.

You walked away with a sprained wrist, a black eye, and a couple cuts and bruises. Not too bad for your first real stunt, you thought, and it was funny as hell too, as you discovered when Steve was showing you the footage in the ER waiting room to make you feel better. If only Johnny could see the same humor in it as you did. You would’ve thought they were wheeling you back in a full body cast when they got you back to set later that day. Your dad’s eyes got wide and his jaw nearly hit the ground as he gasped, taking in the sight with a voice dripping in concern, “Jesus Christ…” Hurriedly pulling you into his chest, you were about to say some comment about how you were fine and it was totally worth it cause you had a great time, when he looked up at Steve and Bam like he wanted to bite their heads off, “What the hell did you do to her?” Neither had ever seen Johnny this angry and were both starting to regret being a part of this when Bam piped up, “I mean, I dunno what you’re so mad about, man- she wore a helmet.”

Funny enough, that did end up convincing Johnny to let you in on a couple of their milder Jackass stunts only to make sure you could do this sort of thing in a safer, more controlled environment under his watch. Chasing the guys around with cattle prods, rigging the giant hand to hit them as they walked through the halls of the Dickhouse offices- you even got to help Bam out with doing Rockys on the cast and crew (even though he really thought he was a bad influence now). The only other time you saw your dad that worked up was when Bam came up to him on set in between takes sounding pretty nervous himself. “Hey, Knoxville-“ He jabbed a thumb behind him, “You know I’m usually pretty cool about this kinda stuff, but I don’t really think Y/N should be doin’ stunts like that with wild animals…” Suddenly panicking, Johnny flew out of his seat, running over to the bushes where he heard your snickering, only to find you sitting across with Chris who had his hand in the Black Mamba sock puppet, wiggling it around like a snake and hissing. Falling back laughing, all Johnny could do was shake his head, unable to keep a smile from creeping onto his lips.

[titlemewickedwonderland]

The Manager (Ghost Fic) Chapter 2

Summary: The Ministry announces an outsider coming to be part of the congregation to help with the Ghost project as a tour manager; little did the Ghoul know; she is nothing like they pictured her or how she'd affect them all.

Support My Work!

Chapter 1

The mass hall was flooded with Siblings of the Ministry. The large space was abuzz with a conversation among them and for the first time in a while, Ari felt overwhelmed. Despite her professionalism with Copia the night before she would be lying if she said that she was feeling the pressure. She wouldn't be directly involved with the Siblings, of course. Her main focus was the Ghost Project and the ghouls; Papa and the tour. But seeing just how large the Ministry was was kind of daunting.

She was afterall, an outsider among these people and even when she had confidence in her ability to handle her work tasks it was another thing entirely when it came to the personal touch with the Ministry; she was not naive enough to think everybody would be welcoming to her. There would be speculations, there would be rumors, and there would mostly likely be bets to see how long she'd last working with the Ghouls. They were, from what she had heard previously; a bit of a handful.

Braydon had realized this was an odd job; he'd called it from the beginning; her husband was always good with his intuition, after all. But Ari was not a quitter and she had faith in her abilities; the problem was, would the Ghouls take to her? She would not work this job unless they were on the same page - if they accepted her or not, her morality would certainly not permit her. She had high hopes for her future here.

As she walked to the coffee dispensery for her morning brew she was unaware of the eyes watching her from the back of the room. She was oblivious to them - too lost in her own thoughts. She didn't even notice when a figure came up behind her; not until she felt something tugging on her hair. Swirling around she was well prepared to reprimade whoever was playing with her hair only for her to look down to find a petite tiny creature standing in front of her.

It was a ghoul. A ghoulette by the feminine shape but she was just so small. Much smaller then even the shortest of the male ghouls Ari had seen the night before. But she was cute. Dressed in the usual black attire and goggled helmet that was of Copia's Era the ghoulette looked so...pocket sized and adorable despite knowing she was not human.

The ghoulette let out a little giggle and clasped her hands in front of her as she rocked forward; reminding Ari of a little girl.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! I was just so masmerized by your hair, it's so pretty! Like silk. I just had to know what it felt like!" the ghoulette chirped flashing Ari a fanged smile.

"Oh!" Ari laughed a bit as she relaxed. "That's alright! I just wasn't expecting it! Thank you..." she trailed off when she realized she hadn't known the other's name.

"I'm Aurora." the ghoulette sidled up to her and poured herself a cup of orange juice. "And you must be Mrs. Whitmore! Papa had mentioned you this morning! I was very excited to meet you, you know!" Aurora said

"Well, that's very kind of you, Aurora!" Ari smiled and turned back to the station to pour some creamer into her cup of coffee. "And please, call me Ari." she added automatically.

"Ari? Is that short for something?" Aurora asked cocking her head.

"Yes, actually. It's short for Ariel. But I prefer Ari, it's more personal." and because she hated it when her husband called her Ariel. But Aurora didn't need to know that tidbit.

"Oh, that's lovely!" Aurora gushed on a dreamy sigh before turning once the women had their drinks ready. "Come on! You must go meet the others! We didn't get proper introductions before!" Aurora grabbed Ari's hand and rushed her down the aisles of long table benches all the way to the back where a group of ghouls sat.

"Good morning everybody! Have you met Ari yet?" Aurora took her place between two other female Ghouls

"Not officially." one of the other's grumbled; still too sleepy it seemed to be much of a conversationalist.

"Yes, we didn't really have much time for proper introductions since it was getting late." Ari replied looking around at the table feeling rather awkward being the only one standing.

"Oh shoot! I was supposed to come to wake you for breakfast, I'm so sorry Ari. I-" The soft-spoken ghoul from the night before began rising from his seat.

"Oh don't worry about it! I found my way around easily enough." Ari laughed waving at him as if to say it was okay while she stood sipping at her coffee.

"You gonna sit down or what?" the grumpy ghoul spoke up cocking his head to glare at her with firey orange eyes through the goggles of his mask.

"Oh I-" Ari bit her lip nervously

"Oh come on! We don't bite, we promise." one of the other ghouls with a megawatt smile spoke up as he scooted to the side making room for her to sit down.

She did so carefully and wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee as she glanced at all the other ghouls. "So, um, where do we start?" she asked

"Ah, introductions!" Aurora clapped before motioning to the Ghouls on her side of the table.

"This is Cumulus, she's our air ghoul," she motioned to a short woman with curves that Ari was instantly jealous of before moving her hand to her other side. "And this is Cirrus our other air ghoul, beside her on her other side is Mountain - he's the drummer and Earth ghoul." Aurora pipped up.

Cumulus smiled brightly and reached out to touch Ari's arm in a gesture of warmth.

"We're so glad you're here, I can already tell you'll be so much better than all the others." she chuckled.

"Those troublemakers on either side are Swiss and Dewdrop. Swiss is a Multi -ghoul and Dewdrop is our Fire Ghoul!" Cirrus piped up pointing to each of the ghouls bracketing Ari in.

"And lastly this is Phantom, he and Aurora were summoned at the same time; kind of a package deal. He's our new Quintessence ghoul. Oh and sweet Rain baby over there! Can't forget about him; he's our Water Ghoul!" Cirrus motioned to the last two of the group and Ari gave each a smile of hello.

"Wow, there are a lot of you." Ari finally responded.

"Trust me, we aren't as bad as people think we are!" Phantom smiled over at the woman who nodded thoughtfully.

"Oh, I'll be the judge of that." her blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

"So, Ari. Tell us, how'd you stumble upon Papa?" Cumulus asked propping her elbows on the table and leaning over to listen intently.

"Ah, funny story actually. You see, I come from a management background. I was originally a secretary for a law firm but the sort of environment as you can imagine gets toxic pretty quickly. I had been searching online for awhile before I stumbled upon Copia's ad for hire. Got in contact with him and well, he seemed to like what he was hearing so. Here I am!" she lifted up her hands

"What does the mister think of your new job?" Cirrus tapped the table as her gaze fell onto the woman's hand. "Presuming there is a mister?"

Ari subconsciously grabbed her ring; twisting it around her finger and her smile was tight but the ghouls watching her could tell there was more behind the story then her words.

"Yeah, my husband Braydon um...he's a detective for the local police. His reaction to this job was well...concerned I suppose. It's not every day your wife gets a job at a Satanic church." she chuckled a bit despite her awkwardness.

"I mean, I don't blame him. Maybe he'll warm up to the idea once he knows you're doing good here." Rain offered a smile of encouragement and Ari just nodded but her eyes said a different thing.

"Yeah, maybe."

The table got silent aftward and Ari just stared down at her cup of coffee lost in thought. The truth behind her relationship with her husband was more complicated than she wanted to let on. They'd been married for the last 5 years but in the 2 years, their relationship was becoming strained. It hadn't always been like that, the first 2 years had been amazing; all through the honeymoon phase and all. But then Ari had gotten a higher paying position at her law firm and Braydon had been appointed as a detective within months of each other and that meant stressful days at work and a shit ton of piled work to do - you could imagine they didn't often see each other.

Ari suspected Braydon may be cheating on her but she never had proof. But when they worked long hours and barely got to see each other it put a strain on the relationship. It was hard and Braydon wasn't too thrilled at this new prospect of the job she took on but she needed this.

A hand softly gripped her arm and the woman lifted her gaze to meet Phantom's across the table, there was a sheen of concern in her gaze through the goggles of his mask as he gave her a small smile.

"You okay?"

Quintessence ghoul, right. He probably sensed something off about her emotions. Ari plastered a smile on her face and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking of where to start with work." she laughed a bit but it was hollow as she pulled her arm from his grasp and rose from the table with her now empty cup.

"Thank you, guys, for welcoming me this morning, but I do have to go sort out all those folders left by the previous managers. If you need anything don't hesitate to come by, I'll be in Copia's office. I have a feeling I may need some of his input." she said

"Oh okay..."

"Hey don't be a stranger okay?" Swiss added giving her a little wave.

"Likewise." Ari smiled before turning and heading for the doors, tossing her disposable coffee cup into the trash on her way.

She managed to find her way back to her room and once inside she pressed against the door and let out a sigh before shaking off her gloom and went to grab the folders and carrier case before leaving to head to Copia's office.

When she arrived she knocked, patiently waiting for a reply before turning the knob and walked inside with a warm smile on her face when she saw the man hunched over a pile of paperwork he was grumbling at. As she entered Copia lifted his head to look at her and his grumpy expression softened a bit.

"Ah, Ari. I hope you slept well, were the quarters to your liking?" he asked.

"They were, thank you!" she assured him before waving the folders in front of her. "I just met the ghouls in the breakfast hall. They are an interesting bunch but I'm sure we'll work together just fine. Would you mind if I borrow your company for a bit with these? I may have some questions."

"Si si! Please make yourself comfortable. I could use the break from this buffoonery." the man chuckled as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

Ari smiled sympathetically knowing full well how frustrating paperwork could be when you weren't one who liked to do that work. She moved further into the room and settled herself down on his office sofa; pulling the coffee table a little closer and began spreading out the files in front of her.

A comfortable silence fell in the pair; the sound of papers turning was the only sound that was accompanying the sound of the fan in the room. Copia's office was lavished with dark colors, leathers, and bookshelves but it was cozy still especially with the candles scenting the air with their rich flavor so Ari found herself relaxing and focusing on the work in front of her without too much trouble. She didn't realize that Copia had been sitting there watching her in silence for a good 15 minutes; just watching the expressions that twisted her face as her thoughts processed what she was reading.

At last, she looked up with an exasperated look. "Copia, what kind of people were you hiring for this job? These files are a mess and the numbers are all wrong!"

"Oh?" the papa asked frowning.

Ari nodded and picked up one sheet of paper waving it in front of her. "The financial part of the tour is all off. There are receipts missing, numbers aren't adding up, and I'm pretty sure there are extra expenses that were cashed in that have nothing to do with the tour needs." she pursed her lips.

"What in Satanas name?" Copia huffed and unfolded himself from his office chair before making his way over to sit beside her on the sofa; peering down at the jumble of numbers and printout of receipts.

"See here, this is the budget that was agreed upon for your last tour." Ari circled a line of numbers with her pen before circling another part. "This is what was spent on tour expenses; or what is being claimed as tour expenses. But if you look here on this list of receipts there is a good chunk of money missing that didn't have a corresponding receipt." the young woman said as she jotted down a few marks and notes at the corner of the sheet of paper.

She grabbed her calculator and began typing out numbers before showing it to him. "There is at least $1800 missing that doesn't add up to the rest of the expense. Do you know what that was being used for? Were there some extra expenses that you had to use? A broken instrument or maybe a wardrobe issue that you needed to buy?"

Copia gazed at the paper and shook his head - his brow furrowing in confusion. "No, the tour went perfectly smooth last month," he stated grabbing the paper to examine further.

"My only other idea was your manager who was in charge of all of this was taking money from you guys to spend on...whatever the hell it was they wanted to buy without permission. That's why you're down nearly 2k." she said.

"Oh, Lucifer help me." Copia rubbed his forehead and muttered something in Italian.

"Hey don't stress, it can easily be fixed, and get your money back but that'll involve a bit of an investment to make that money back." Ari soothed as she rubbed his back. "I'm thinking if we can order an extra installment of merch for the next tour and cut back on a hotel stay or two we should be back on track. Are you okay with that?" she asked.

"Si si." Copia agreed nodding slowly.

"Good, I'll jot some notes down and see what else we can do to help balance the books some more. Oh, before I forget did you have a schedule for the ghouls for their practice sessions and stuff I can work on?" she added as she began packing up the file she was working on.

"Ah, si. There should be a schedule sheet in one of these files. We haven't changed the schedules much. I think the ghouls have an extra few days off though after we get home from tour that we've implanted to give them time to decompress."

Ari nodded. "Good good. Okay. I can work around that." she fiddled with the other files as she skimmed through them and the pair fell silent again.

"Thank you, Mio caro." Copia suddenly spoke up causing the woman to look up with surprise.

"For what Copia?" she laughed a bit.

"For taking on this job. We know it is a big ask and well...you're the most capable person we've had thus far who seems to know what they are doing. I feel as if we will be in good hands." Copia smiled as her and she returned it with a kind one of her own.

"I enjoy this type of work Copia, and I appreciate the opportunity. It's not every day someone gets to work with a famous band." she gave a playful wink

"Si." Copia gave a laugh before ending it on a sigh and slapped his knees. "Well, I should probably get back to work eh?"

"Unless you'd like Sister Imperator on your ass then I should think so." Ari teased.

"Ah, you met Seester?"

"I did. We met when I arrived last night. Severe looking woman but she's not half bad. I don't imagine I'd be working with her a lot though." Ari confessed as she turned back to her files.

Copia hummed thoughtfully before he sat back down and picked up his pen to look over his notes again.

The pair worked in silence after that until late in the evening when someone knocked on the door. It opened and a ghoulette's head poked in.

"Sorry to intrude Papa. But would we be able to steal Ms. Ari for a little while?" Cirrus spoke up.

"Ah, si. I think it's late enough Mio Caro. Why don't you go relax until dinner? You can sit with me at the table and meet my brothers." Copia winked.

Ari stretched with a sigh. "If you're sure Copia." she finally said as she began packing up her things and putting them away.

"No no! Tesero! Leave your things here, you are more than welcome to use my space for your work! Just put them over there in that cubby whenever you're done with your work!" Copia rose from his chair and rounded the table to help put away her files into a cabinet in the corner.

"Oh, are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your personal space Copia!" Ari protested with a frown.

"Nonsense! I enjoy your company far more than if I were alone here. You are family now so please make yourself at home!" the man replied lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

Ari smiled warmly at him. "Thank you." she replied before finishing up putting her things into the cabinet.

"Alright, well I'll see you later tonight then!" Ari waved at the papa before heading over to Cirrus.

When they entered the hall she found Cumulus and Aurora waiting for them. "Oh, what's this? Am I in trouble?" she squinted playfully causing the women to laugh and shake their heads.

"No! We just wanted to show you something. It's a surprise!" Aurora chirped linking her arm through Ari's and beginning to lead her back toward the Ghoul's wing.

But instead of going to her assigned chambers, the girls went further down the hall to stop at the double doors leading into the Ghoul's hall. She was ushered inside and was left speechless on the threshold.

The Ghoul's wing felt like some sort of one-floor mansion with an open space, a comfortable exterior that reminded Ari of an old Victorian-style mansion, and the air was filled with the scent of rich incense that was burning from holders in different spots of the large living space filled with couches, beanbags, and other furniture.

"Wow. Well, this wasn't expected." she mumbled as she was led further inside to the common room where the other ghouls were waiting.

"Surprise!" Swiss held up his hands motioning to something by the fireplace and Ari turned her head to look and found bundles of wrapped gifts and bags sitting on the stone platform.

"What's all this?" Ari asked confused as she was led to sit down in a large overstuffed bean bag beside Rain.

"It's a 'welcome to the Ministry' party!" Cumulus gushed. "We wanted to thank you by doing something special for you!"

"Thank me? But I haven't done anything yet?" Ari laughed looking around at all the masked faces.

"Perhaps not, but uh...well..." Rain scratched the back of his neck. "We could already tell right off the bat that you'd be a good fit for the band and the project. You've been kind to us and treated us fairly even after only being here for less than a day. We just wanted to thank you for agreeing to take us on."

"We don't do this to every manager we get so just shut up and be grateful." Dewdrop crossed his arms looking away.

"Well of course I am! I'm just confused since I haven't done anything for you guys yet." Ari replied shaking her head.

"You gave us the time of day and treated us with equality...not like an object. That's enough for us." Phantom said as he grabbed a few of the presents from the pile and passed them over to her.

"Go on and open it!" Aurora bounced on the sofa beside Mountain.

Ari laughed and began to carefully open the packages that were handed one by one to her. In all, she had a beautiful leather bag that smelled of fresh leather and polish with intricate designs on it and buckles that she'd gotten from Swiss because according to him; her current bag was threads and she couldn't possibly go walking around with such a thing.

She'd gotten a new journal from Phantom that she could write notes, schedules, and such on for easier access and less hassle to work with when she got to work. It was beautiful black leather bound with a leather tie and had a cool-looking design of a Japanese zen garden etched into the leather. She loved it as she traced the delicate engravings imagining herself carrying this thing around her all the time.

From Aurora, Ari received the most beautiful gemstone necklace she'd ever seen. To most people, it may have been plain. But the entwining of the metal around the stone. A rough-cut moonstone clasped within the metal wrapped around it. She had said the Moonstone was a symbol of new beginnings, inner growth, and strength.

From Cumulus, Ari had received a music box; it was black with gold engravings with a paneled picture of the moon and stars. The music box played a melody that she wasn't familiar with but it was beautiful and melodic while an angel spun around in the middle.

Rain was so sweet and gave her a bath set filled with bath salts, soaps, candles, sugar scrubs, and more for a spa day. The scents were so sweet and she couldn't stop smelling the bar of soap causing Rain to duck his head in a bashful display of embarrassment when she thanked him for the thoughtful gift. Ari didn't remember the last time she had time to actually enjoy a good bath to help ease a stressful day so the gesture was sweet of him and she planned on using it whenever she got the next chance.

Cirrus had gifted her a few new articles of clothing. A few pairs of comfy jeans, a few sweaters that were fleece or knitted, a few pairs of fuzzy socks for comfort, and a long trench coat to help keep her warm in the coming months. They smelled like her perfume and Ari had a thought the ghoulette had purposefully sprayed her favorite perfume she always wore onto them.

Mountain's gift had been this beautiful chest hand carved by his own hand with flowers; but that wasn't all, inside was a little packet of seeds that he said were seeds belonging to the flowers Iris, Hyacinth, and Alstroemeria. He said he was planning to plant them in the garden in her honor. It was a sweet gesture and Ari thanked him with a warm heartfelt smile.

Lastly, Dewdrop's. His was a little confusing because it was small and seemingly uncaring. It was a pick. A guitar pick to be precise. A black pick with the Ghost band sigil engraved on the front and his element sigil on the back. At first, she was confused until Dewdrop's grumpy self explained in not too many words that it was hers to use despite not having a guitar...until he clarified it would be the pick she used when he gave her guitar lessons. It was only then that Ari realized his gift wasn't actually the pick but more of the gift of his time. As sort of an olive branch to her - a chance to spend time with him and get to know him. To bond. She could already tell Dewdrop was one of little words and he didn't get along with a lot of people so to have this opportunity given by him was something big and important to him.

"Thank you guys. All of these are such sweet gifts and so thoughtful." Ari smiled down at the pile of things in her lap. She wasn't expecting this kind of gesture from them so it did strike a chord in her; they were trying to be her friend. Giving her the green light and letting her know not with words but with their gifts that they were accepting her into their fold. So Ari knew, just because of this; she'd make sure to cherish not only the gifts but the givers as well and give back to them in the only way she knew how. By being their friend and by being the best she could be for them.

"Aw, damn you aren't going to cry are you?" Dewdrop looked over at her seeing the look on Ari's face.

"No!" Ari chuckled despite the emotion choking her up. "But all of this...it's so sweet of you guys. Thank you."

"You already said that." the fire ghoul grumbled as he grabbed a beer from the carrier on the coffee table. "Now can we drink or what?"

"Sounds good to me! Want one Ari?" Swiss asked as he grabbed one for himself.

"Sure, I'll have one." Ari agreed as she grabbed a bottle from his offered hand.

"I think this will be great. This partnership." Mountain leaned back against the couch and smiled to himself.

"You know what Mountain? I think so too." Ari shared his smile before taking a sip from her bottle.

~

Chapter 3

[ryehouses]

Loved Paz and Anika, I love the AO3 posts, I get to enjoy the new snippets twice. For PoV requests, Paz's kids when they've snuck out and got into something, either at the Palace or Mos Pelgo.

god one day i will figure out how to crosspost to tumblr and ao3 simultaneously. that day is not today, though, so here you go! some foundlings!

set between chapters 22 - 27, after clan vizsla-skirata-deshra comes to tatooine but before they ship out to mos pelgo.

in which a daring raid is executed. 

The long, dark hallway, which was broken up by half a dozen doors and other hallways that branched off of the main corridor like the untidy roots of a tree, looked empty. Kieran still switched her visor over to infrared, just like Paz had shown her, and double-checked, but no blobs of orange or yellow popped across her screen, revealing someone lying in wait farther down the corridor. The hallway was cold and very empty. 

“Clear,” Kieran whispered, pleased. She was pressed up against a smooth sandstone pillar, using its shadows to hide from any prying eyes that might be fixed on the mouth of her tribe’s makeshift covert. 

Kieran was good at hiding. Not as good as Mirda, who was still smaller than Kieran and could fit in sneakier places, but Kieran’d had a lot of practice at hiding over the last year, and so far no one in Boba Fett’s palace had seen Kieran on one of her missions outside of the yaim. 

“Are you sure?” Took whispered back. He’d ducked behind another pillar a few feet behind Kieran – Kieran was the oldest, so Took should’ve been behind her anyway – and was pressed up against it as close as he could get. 

Kieran huffed. The noise crackled through her helmet. “Yes, I’m sure,” she hissed, impatient. Took had been as brave as anything when they’d lived in the yaim underneath Arkanis, but living above ground like this, in a covert given to them by somebody else – somebody who wasn’t even Mandalorian, Kieran’d heard – made Took nervous. Kieran was trying not to be annoyed with him, since she’d called him a hut’uun yesterday and Strill had heard her do it. 

“Brothers and sisters are supposed to help each other face their fears, not tease each other about them,” Strill had said after she’d pulled Kieran aside to scold her, stern as an armorer. Her tone of voice had made Kieran’s heart sink all the way to the bottom of her boots. 

“This is a new place,” Strill had reminded Kieran. “And it’s – well, it is protected, but it’s protected by new allies, who we’re not sure if we can trust, and Paz is hurt. If Took’s a bit nervous, you can understand why, can’t you? I’m nervous too, you know. Does that make me a hut’uun?” 

Strill was probably one of the bravest people that Kieran had ever met, because Strill – and Jaig too – had left her own tribe, her own clan, to help Paz. Kieran couldn’t imagine leaving Paz to help someone she didn’t know. 

“No,” Kieran had said to Strill, meekly, and she’d promised to be nicer to her younger brother. 

But it’s hard to be nice to Took when he tries to creep around like a scrum rat, she thought. We’re Mandalorians. We’re supposed to be brave. 

Kieran remembered scrum rats from her homeworld, though she no longer remembered what her homeworld had been called or where it was. She’d been found – rescued – by the Mandalorians a long, long time ago. Most of what she could remember from her homeworld was faded and grey and full of holes, like a holo that spluttered from a broken projector, but she did remember the rats. They had always been creeping around the corners of things, gnawing on clothes and wires and scrapes of food, but it had only ever taken a loud voice and a few stomps to send them skittering away. 

Kieran wasn’t going to be chased from her mission so easily. 

“I’m sure,” she repeated, trying to sound both nice and firm at the same time. She was the oldest of Paz’s foundlings, which meant that she was kind of the alor. She supposed that Strill and Jaig were older than she was, technically, but they didn’t really count as foundlings. 

Then a flash of movement further down the hallway caught Kieran’s attention, and she sighed, pulled out of her thoughts by the sight of a familiar, short shape skipping ahead and out of view. “Doesn’t matter, anyway,” she muttered. “Mirda’s already going for it.” 

Took huffed. “Show-off,” he grumbled. 

Kieran agreed, but didn’t say so. There wasn’t much point in hiding or trying to be sneaky any more, not if Mirda was already darting on ahead. Took was a bit of a scaredy-tooka, but Mirda was almost never afraid of anything, even things she should be scared of, like those big fyrnocks in the caves on that asteroid they’d tried to live on for a few weeks. Mirda’d rushed right over to try to pet a fyrnock even though it had been growling at her, just like she was rushing ahead now. Mandalorians were supposed to be brave, but sometimes Kieran thought that Merida was too brave for secret missions, like this one. Sometimes Mirda’s bravery tipped over into recklessness, and as the oldest Kieran was the one who had to clean up after Mirda whenever her bravery got the better of her. 

“C’mon,” Kieran muttered, jerking her chin at Took, and set off at a lope after Mirda. 

Mirda never remembered to switch her visor over to infrared to look for heat signatures, either, no matter how many times Paz had shown her how to do it, and even though Mirda had been lucky so far, forgetting to scan for heat signatures was dangerous. Mandalorians were never safe, not even in a covert.

Wary of the other doors and the branching hallways, Kieran darted after her little sister, sticking as close to the shadows as she could. She was pretty good at it. Like hiding, Kieran’d had a lot of practice at sneaking around unnoticed over the past year. Strill hadn’t even noticed Kieran leading the other two foundlings out tonight, just like she hadn’t noticed Kieran and her siblings slipping out on any of their other missions through the palace, which meant that Kieran must’ve gotten pretty good at stealth. 

When I have armor, I’m going to paint it black, like Strill’s, Kieran thought, ignoring the prickle of guilt that always came with sneaking past Strill and leaving the yaim. Kieran knew that the yaim kept them all safe and so did the verd on watch, but foundlings were supposed to explore a new covert.  

I just have to remember to paint part of it blue, for Paz, she thought. He’d like that. 

Kieran darted between one column and another, catching sight of Mirda’s booted heel just ahead. Took, bolder now that they were moving instead of hiding in the shadows, stuck firmly to Kieran’s left, guarding her back. 

At the sight of Mirda, still rushing ahead, Kieran scowled. Mirda’s armor, she thought, I’m painting white. 

She kept her visor set to scan infrared, but the long corridor between the yaim and the rest of the palace stayed cold and quiet, cast in shades of blue. The foundlings were alone. 

Kieran had expected them to be, though she still wished that Mirda would stay closer. This was their fourth trip outside of their little yaim. They didn’t get to go every night – there was too much of a chance of getting caught, either by an aruetii or by Strill, who almost always took the night watch – but they’d managed three successful missions already. 

So far, none of the aruetiise, the outsiders who lived in the rest of the enormous, sprawling palace, had come prowling around this corner of it at night, even though Kieran, Took and Mirda knew that the palace was full of other people. 

I think that the beroya has been keeping everyone else away, Kieran thought. Even though – even though Paz thinks he’s dangerous. 

Kieran hadn’t seen the beroya, who had once been the hunter for their entire tribe, since he’d come to help them escape Arkanis. Before that she hadn’t seen him in over a year. She didn’t know much about him, really. His name was Din. He’d been the beroya of the tribe for as long as Kieran could remember. He was Paz’s brother, like Took was Kieran’s. 

But Paz – Paz doesn’t want to talk to him any more, Kieran thought, checking the hallway carefully for a Mandalorian-shaped blob of orange and yellow. Something happened. 

None of the older Mandalorians would tell Kieran what had happened, but she wasn’t stupid. She didn’t know why the beroya, who had been part of the tribe, would stay away otherwise. 

Thinking about the beroya kind of made Kieran’s head hurt, though. She didn’t know what to think about him. If he could be trusted or not. If he could be trusted, then the yaim was pretty safe and Kieran didn’t have to worry about Mirda running off as much. But if he couldn’t be trusted, if he’d brought them here but still meant to hurt them, to turn them into the Empire, then the hallways of the palace were dangerous. 

Too dangerous for a foundling, Kieran thought. Even a lucky one like Mirda. 

Kieran was older than Mirda, though, and had longer legs. She checked the hall for heat signatures one more time and, seeing none, put on a burst of speed, darting forward and closing the distance between her and Mirda. Mirda must’ve heard Kieran coming because she ducked, but she still couldn’t beat Kieran in a spar and Kieran was faster, stronger; Kieran grabbed Mirda by the shoulder and Mirda spun around, nearly overbalancing. Took, following close behind, skidded to a stop. 

“Let me go, Kieran,” Mirda hissed in a low, fierce whisper, shrugging out of Kieran’s grip. She took a step back, but Kieran wasn’t having it. Two more steps would put Mirda right in the mouth of one of the hallways that branched off of this one, and Kieran could hear low, distant voices. If Mirda took a few more steps, she’d be exposed. Vulnerable. 

“Mirda, be careful,” Kieran hissed, exasperated, catching the back of her little sister’s shirt to keep her from darting down the next hallway. “You know that Mister Fett has a lot of guards who work for him.” 

Mirda wriggled a little in Kieran’s grip, but didn’t fight her too hard. “None of them are ever down here, though,” she argued, twisting to look up at Kieran. Her visor gleamed. Moonlight spilled into the corridor from the open windows. Kieran wanted to get back under cover, so she hauled Mirda back into the safety of the shadows. 

“None of them have been down here yet,” Kieran said. They were close enough to something, another hallway or an open room, that Kieran could hear the low rumble of voices. She was pretty sure that Mirda wasn’t going to run off ahead of them again, not with aruetiise so close, so she let Mirda go. Mirda rolled her shoulders out, a gesture she’d picked up from Jaig, and lifted her chin at Kieran. She was probably scowling underneath her helmet. Kieran didn’t care. 

“Just because none of the guards have come down here so far doesn’t mean that they’ll stay away forever,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking down at Mirda severely. Kieran had seen the alor do that to foundlings she was particularly disappointed in back on Nevarro. 

Kieran must not have been very good at it, because Mirda wasn’t bothered. 

“No one’s here,” Mirda repeated, petulant. 

“You know that for sure?” Kieran shot back. “You checked the hallways with your scanner?” 

“No, but – ”

“No ‘buts,’” Kieran said. “This is a mission. You can’t cut corners on a mission, Mirda. That’s how people get hurt. Paz says so.” 

That finally got Mirda to listen. Mirda loved Paz. All of them loved Paz, of course, because Paz was their father and had been ever since he’d scooped them up and run from the soldiers on Nevarro, but Mirda was especially close to him. A year ago that might’ve made Kieran jealous, but now she knew that it wasn’t a competition, not with Paz. He loved all of his foundlings, even Strill and Jaig, who were only really halfway-foundlings with a tribe and a covert of their own. Kieran and Mirda didn’t need to compete with each other for his time or his attention. 

Finally, Mirda deflated. She dropped her shoulders and her chin, tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt. 

“I know Paz says we shouldn’t rush,” Mirda muttered. “But it’s just – ”

“Yeah,” Kieran said. “I know. It’s hard when you’re the fastest or the quietest and you have to wait for everyone else.” 

Mirda shook her head, which made Kieran frown. Mirda was faster than Kieran and Took, and when Mirda wasn’t charging ahead like a gurrcat that had caught a scent she could be plenty sneaky. “It’s – I’m not trying to be the fastest or the quietest,” she said, looking between Kieran and Took. “Took’s the quietest, anyway.” 

“Then what’re you trying to do?” Kieran asked, confused. If Mirda wasn’t trying to show off, what was the point of racing ahead of her squad? 

Mirda looked up at Kieran again, and Kieran could almost see Mirda scowl behind her helmet. “If I’m not going fast enough, you’ll leave me behind,” she said. 

Kieran froze. “What?” 

Mirda threw her hands up. “You’ll leave me behind!” she said, in a tone of voice that was definitely louder than a whisper. Took snapped his head around to check the hallway and hissed, “Be quiet!” Mirda and Kieran both ignored him. 

“I’m not going to leave you behind!” Kieran retorted, bristling. “We’re in – well, Strill says it’s not enemy territory, but Paz says that maybe it is, and I wouldn’t leave you.” 

“You an’ Took did on the last planet,” Mirda said, low and fierce. “Even when Took broke his arm!” 

“Because you had a concussion,” Kieran snapped. Mirda had gotten hurt before they’d all fled to Arkanis, just like Paz had. She’d hit her head really hard, leaving the yaim on Mos Entha, and for days after she’d been too sick to play or to join Kieran and Took on their scouting missions outside of the yaim. 

Her concussion had been terrifying. Mirda’d gotten cold and clammy, like she’d had a fever, and she’d muttered and mumbled under her breath for days after, even when Jaig had raided an Imperial outpost and brought Mirda some bacta. Some of the things that Mirda had said – 

Don’t think about it, Kieran told herself, suppressing a shudder. Mirda’d said some frightening things, but it had just been the concussion talking. It hadn’t been real. Strill and Jaig had promised that what Mirda’d been saying hadn’t been real. 

“A concussion’s not worse than a broken arm,” Mirda said, a scowl in her voice. 

Kieran rolled her eyes. “It kind of is,” she said. “Took’s broken arm wasn’t going to kill him.” 

“It still hurt,” Took muttered. He was watching the hallway anxiously, obviously itching to get back under cover. Kieran shook her head and made herself focus. If Mirda wanted to argue, they could cancel the mission and go back to the yaim. Arguing out here, in the open, was stupid. 

“I didn’t die,” Mirda said, sulking. 

Kieran sighed and thought of Strill. 

Mirda’s – she’s saying that she was afraid of being left behind, Kieran thought. Took and I were able to help Strill and Jaig on Arkanis. We scavenged for things, we hunted a little bit, all of that. We were able to help the tribe. Mirda – Mirda couldn’t. 

It hadn’t been Mirda’s fault. She hadn’t gotten a concussion on purpose. 

But she’s a kid, Kieran reasoned. And – and it’s been a hard year. 

“Brothers and sisters are supposed to help each other face their fears,” Strill had said. 

Kieran took a deep breath. “Mirda,” she said. “I’m – I’m sorry we didn’t take you with us on any missions on Arkanis. You were hurt, and I was worried about you. We just wanted you to get better. I won’t leave you behind again, okay?” 

Mirda eyed Kieran warily. Kieran didn’t have proper armor to swear on, no kar’ta beskar to lay her hand over and promise to keep Mirda close by, but she put her hand over her own heart anyway. 

“I promise,” Kieran said. 

Mirda’s shoulders slumped. “I – okay,” she said, and her voice was smaller than it had been. “I’m sorry. I won’t run ahead.”

Kieran relaxed. Good, she thought. She didn’t want to explain to Paz or Strill that she’d let Mirda get lost in a maybe-enemy’s palace. 

Trying to figure out what Strill might do, Kieran said, “You can take point, if you want. But remember to use your visor,” she added quickly, as Mirda perked back up. “We don’t know how many guards are here.” 

“Aw,” Took said, even as Mirda nodded eagerly and reached up to switch her visor over to infrared. Kieran switched her own back to normal vision. “You never let me take point.” 

Kieran rolled her eyes and elbowed Took lightly. “No whining on a scouting mission,” she said, echoing another one of Paz’s rules. “You can take point next time, okay?” 

Took elbowed her back. “Fine,” he grumbled. He looked at Mirda, who had puffed up with delighted pride. Kieran had never let Mirda take point before. “Where to, boss? Wanna go look for secret tunnels?” he asked. 

Mirda cocked her head to the side like a confused scavenger hawk. “How d’you know there’s secret tunnels?” she asked. 

Kieran and Took exchanged a glance, then Kieran grinned. Technically a mission wasn’t supposed to be changed after it had started, but looking for secret tunnels did sound fun, and that was the sort of mission that foundlings took all of the time. Adult warriors were bad at finding secret places, but foundlings were good at it, and it was always a good idea to have more than one way to get out of the yaim if they had to leave in a hurry.

“This is a stronghold,” Kieran said. She was pretty sure that a stronghold and a palace were the same thing. “There’s always secret tunnels in strongholds. Or a secret room, at least.” 

Mirda considered that for a second, and then she nodded once, firmly. “Secret tunnels,” she said. “Let’s go!”

[thelongcovidhil]

My Husband

Time to introduce you to my John. Prepare yourself for some mushy content.

The other night, around 2AM, I repeatedly poked my husband’s shoulder until he woke up. Pain had woken me, and I so badly wanted to be held. Without hesitation, John rubbed his eyes, snatched me up, and wrapped his arms around me. I cried and cursed my grumpy body for quite some time. Like many nights before, I shared how scared I was… and mad… and sad. How much all the things hurt and how I wanted some relief — any relief. The usual stuff.

Like always, he held me tightly, listened, and reassured me everything would be okay.

At one point in the night, I mentioned an infrared helmet that we had stumbled upon weeks ago during one of our quests to find a “cure.” The device was called the Neuronic, and it had been used in several clinical studies as a treatment for Long Covid/tissue damage. Subjects were tested before using the device and after, and had shown significant improvement: increased blood flow, cellular repair, improved cognitive function, decreased brain fog, and reduced inflammation/spike proteins. But the problem: the helmet was SO expensive. And not quite in our budget.

When I mentioned the helmet, I explained how a new, less expensive model had just become available for pre-order, and how I wanted to explore it as a treatment. I was encouraged by the studies and the research, and was excited about a possible/ACTUAL treatment. But John remained quiet. I assumed that he had fallen back to sleep… or was too discouraged by the cost. So I let him — and the subject — rest.

The following morning, shortly after I crawled out of bed, I received a call from John. I wasn’t expecting anything but the normal conversation.

Then his words hit me:

“I was listening,” he said. “And I want you to have your helmet. I want you to feel better.”

There I was, thinking he was snoozing away or had mentally retreated, when really: he was lying there, awake, concentrating, and planning with his beautiful brain.

John spent the morning figuring out our finances…

And he ordered my infrared helmet.

😭😭😭

You know how some people ask you what you’re most proud of or what makes you happiest or what’s your biggest inspiration or what can’t you live without? For me, it’s really easy. It’s not what; it’s WHO… John. My best friend, my other half, and my whole wide world.

I truly, honestly, sincerely dont know what I would do without my husband by my side, especially during this chapter of my life. I can’t even put into words how happy he makes me or how much I love him.

And if I’m being really honest: being able to grow old with my husband is the biggest motivator for me to get better. Because I want us to be able to celebrate 70 more birthdays together, and create a gazillion more memories, and chase each other around Disney World, and snuggle all the family snuggles, and hold each other up when we’re both old and wobbly.

So I am going to keep on fighting like HECK. And now, because of my John, I’ll be sporting a fancy new infrared helmet in March! ❤️‍🩹

I think I can actually see hearts floating above my head. 💕

[hannibutts]

HANNIBAL SPOILER S02E10

Oh good we get to see what actually happened at Will’s place…

Oh wow ok so while Will was killing ManBearPig guy he was seeing Hannibal and the shadow deer guy that looks like Hannibal but is Will’s…. Killer instincts?

He bare handedly broke ManBearPig’s bone helmet and snapped his neck. Alrighty.

Oh, Hannibal finally not acting coy, this is the first proper conversation they’re having where Hannibal isn’t lying or omitting.

Well if it isn’t a good ol fashioned Will Washathon.

Will… isn’t playing around is he? He’s fully in now like I figured because he LITERALLY just killed a guy but… in the process of trying to hook Hannibal, he’s literally losing himself to the killer within.

To be honest, it’s the only way that I can see a “happy” ending here. Because (and Spoiler alert for silence of the lambs book here), in the ending of the book - Hannibal keeps drugging Clarice for her to stay with him, like eventually in her drug stupor the book insinuates that she does love him back but it’s in that “is it really love if she’s being drugged for her to reach a mental state where she even accepts Hannibal in her vicinity” kinda non con love.

So for Hannibal the show to be satisfying as far as Will’s arc - he really does have to go dark for there to be an even ground…. Even though technically the connection would always be tarnished because Hannibal has being manipulating Will himself but also the situations that got Will to this point.

LASER LIGHTS INTRO

Hannibal and Will psychoanalysing the killer of Randall (Will) while they eye fuck and Jack justifiably confused and terrified is HILARIOUS

Boo Freddie Lounds

Chilton mentioned but only to disparage him. At least it shows Freddie has a soul if she’s still sore about the ripper killing Abigail.

Is… is Hannibal telling Margot to go make a baby boy heir??

Oh shit, Michael Pitt as mason verger? Well, he does good psycho. Oh already with the pigs huh?

Boo Alana - oh they’re still together will Hannibal. I wonder if Hannibal actually lusts for Will or if it’s just an obsession then? Because I genuinely thought he would have broken it off with Alana when he “got Will back”. Though, staying with her will undoubtedly cause the most carnage.

Okay Margot, courting the lonesome backwoods man. I see you. And Jesus, Will is all leisurely and deeper voiced than normal. Like damn, I hope they do end up doing SOMETHING if only just to make Hannibal all jealous and shit. Or just to do something outside of both their horrible existences.

The sex scenes on this show are unnerving, like even if you mute the creepy ass music - everything is in a non sexy slow mo and I get that sex scene in fight club vibes where it feels like there are one too many limbs for two people. Oh Will honey no, he’s still in love with Alana (booo) and she’s getting dicked down by Hannibal Murder dick at that moment. Meanwhile no one is fantasising about Margot 😭

Jesus that scene of Alana making out with Hannibal and then turning to make out with Will 👀 I don’t like Alana but dang, get it girl.

Hoo boy, Will seeing the murder stag while having sex with Margot - aw please don’t kill Margot, she’s been through enough. Speaking of Margot, is her plan to get pregs by Will to have a male heir and then kill her brother?

Oh shit, wait, was Will having a mind meldy moment with Hannibal??

Jesus, in a conversation between Freddie and Alana (double boo) Freddie was the one actually making sense and Alana was whiny being all like “stahhhhp the sun shines out of Hannibal’s butt!”

It’s so funny because this show keeps putting awful people against each other and you have to pick the lesser of two evils. Like right now - between Hannibal and Mason, you’re obviously going to side with Hannibal because he’s trying to protect Margot and because he’s being very bold to let Mason know he’s not scared of him even after indirectly telling him he know what the pigs can do.

At a dinner with Will, Hannibal and Alana (boo) I would have thought that Will would have been the jealous sassy one but Alana is being real snippy about Will and Hannibal’s relationship 😂

Hannibal just casually waiting in his sauna suit is so funny - like he’s about to kill someone but genuinely hilarious. Wait is he going to try and kill will?? Oh it’s Freddie (boo). Oh shit Freddie be finding ManBearPig’s suit in Will’s barn. Oh ew and his mandible too. Oop there’s Will sporting his own “I frew up” stance. So what, they’re going to kill her together?

Well shit, Will is genuinely terrifying trying to stop Freddie. Daaang Will. Jack doing top notch work… did you do it will? No? Well I’m outta ideas.

What in the hell is Alana doing there? (Boo) does she just have all access to the fbi at all times???

Of course they’re going to cook together. Hannibal looks so ecstatic.

There’s lovely sweet music playing while they eat and talk about how Freddie Lounds meat tastes! During the sex scenes - the music was discordant and unnerving and right now the music is all flowing and punctuating their smiles. This show I swear 😂

The amalgamated face at the end there was a bit on the nose but ok, so Will has become. Is it still all in the name of catching Hannibal or has he just transitioned? Or is this one of those things where he didn’t actually kill Freddie Lounds and she’s going to show up later and be like haaaa jokes on you?

[andy-solo1]

Bounty Hunter’s Tale

CHAPTER 1

Words: 1521

They say that as you die your life flashes before your eyes. It’s like floating out of your body and watching everything you have done, every mistake, every victory, every heartbreak. How would I know this? Simple, I’m dying. 

Lying here on the ground, the noises around me are muffled as my vision of the world I feel I will be leaving soon fades around me, I find myself wondering, why. 

Why did my life lead to this? Is this all the galaxy had to offer me, after everything else it had put me through, this is how it ends?

I once pictured I’d go out in a bang, some way to cement my place and make sure people never forgot my name. I knew enough men like that to think it was possible for me too, but it seems the galaxy is very selective on who gets that honour. To the people of this world, I’m nothing, I'm nobody. 

Except, I wasn’t always a nobody. I used to be someone, I used to be known. I used to be loved. But, you wouldn’t know any of that, so maybe, this is why my soul still lingers for a few moments more, to make sure that somebody knows my story. 

My name was Dax Leopold, and this will be the story of love and loss, the story of how I died. 

I’ll start our story at the beginning, not the very beginning, but the start of war. The start of when things in my life began to change. I was a bounty hunter by day and a smuggler by night, I never stuck around anywhere or anyone for long. Only connections I had were for jobs, but that day, that day set my life in motion. 

Dax sat in the cockpit of his ship, feet propped up on the dash as he stared out at the lights of hyperspace passing by. He always found the lights calming and enjoyed the peace of it all. However, his peace was interrupted by his comm beginning to ring. He let out a sigh and answered it, grinning when he saw the blue holographic figure appear. 

“Jango Fett, what can I do for you?” Dax asked the hologram. 

“Dax, I have a job for you if you’re interested.” Jango replied. Dax arched a brow in interest.

“Well you know I can never turn you down Jango, what’s the job?” 

“That’s more information than I’m willing to give out over a comm channel, meet with me at these coordinates and we’ll talk then.” Jango replied, Dax’s navigation computer lighting up moments later with the coordinates. 

“Well then, see you soon.” Dax quipped, turning off the communications before changing course. “Not like I had anything else to do today anyways.” The pantoran mused. 

Soon enough, Dax was landing his ship down next to one that was almost as famous as its pilot. Making his way off the ship, Dax made his way to the rendezvous point, a small cantina on the edge of the small town. 

Inside, it was easy for him to find the mandalorian so he sat himself down across from the warrior. 

“What was so important I needed to come here for?” Dax questioned, tilting his head at the helmeted man. 

“My employers have someone they need brought in, and you’re the best one for the job. I have my own work for them I need to handle.” 

“Alright, fair enough, but why specifically me? You have your network of hunters, including Cad Bane. And you know how I operate.” 

“I know, but you’re best for this because the person they want brought in is hiding out on Pantora. You’d blend in easier than I would, and this person has a habit of running off.” Jango supplied. Dax made a pained expression at the thought of going back to his homeworld, but he did understand that he would blend in better than any other hunter on the planet. 

“Alright, so where exactly am I bringing this person to once I get them?” Dax inquired. “Because you know I won’t kill them.” 

“I know you won’t, which is why you’ll contact me once you have them, and I’ll let you know then where to bring them to.” Jango replied. Dax nodded, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. The bleach blond strands mixed with the pink of his roots that were starting to grow out, messing up his normally neat hair style. 

“Sure you don’t got anything that doesn’t involve me going back home?” Dax questioned halfheartedly. He already knew he’d take the job, but still didn’t hurt to ask. 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind on killing people and are willing to assassinate a senator, then this is the only job I have for you.” Jango replied. Dax nodded and rose up from his seat.

“Send me all the data you have on the bounty then, I’ll contact you shortly once I have them.” He said, nodding a goodbye before turning on his heel and leaving.

 Dax landed his ship down into the pantoran spaceport and looked around with disdain at his homeworld. He hated coming back here. He swallowed down his disgust and headed off the ship. One thing he enjoyed about being hired by Jango, the man was thorough. The information he’d transferred over to Dax told him everything about the target, including his favourite bar to frequent in the area. 

He knew these streets like the back of his hand, so finding the bar was the easy part. As he walked inside, he was glad he’d had the insight to change from his usual outfit of a worn brown jacket, work pants, and combat boots. Now he still wore his boots, but he wore just a simple pair of shorts with just an undershirt on, the collar unbuttoned. 

Eyes turned to him as he entered the bar, exactly like he’d wanted. A quick scan of the room, and he found his quarry easily, the Neimoidian standing out easily in the crowd of mostly pantorans. He caught the gaze of the man and threw a wink his way before heading over to the bar and sitting down. 

“What can I get you?” The lady behind the bar asked, flashing a smile at him. 

“Whatever’s got a strong kick darlin’.” Dax replied, flashing a smile back at her. She giggled and went off to get him a drink. Once he had his drink he took a few sips to take the edge off before making his way over to his target. 

“Don’t see many of your kind around here.” He greeted once he reached the man’s table. “Especially sitting here all on your own.” He added a flirtatious tone to his voice, which worked as the neimoidian gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Well not anymore.” The man replied. Dax grinned, sat down and got to work. 

It took him no time at all to flirt his way into getting the Neimoidian back to his ship, where once there, he stunned him unconscious and took off from the planet. Once he’d changed his outfit back he called up Jango. 

“Caught your bounty.” He said in way of greeting once the mandalorian appeared. 

“Didn’t expect any differently. I’m sending you coordinates now of where to take the target to. My employer will meet you there to take him off your hands and pay you.” 

“Understood. Got your coordinates and headed there now.” Dax replied before shutting off the comms. 

The fly to Serenno was short and soon he was just above the planet, passing his entry codes through to a droid before getting clearance to land. The Count’s home was a prominent and easy place to find as Dax soon landed his ship down. 

He walked off of the ramp and looked up at the Count himself who stood waiting for him. 

“My, all this fuss over me, I wasn’t expecting a full royal welcome.” He purred, grinning at the Count, “Your man is up inside the ship.” 

Dooku looked unamused by the pantorans jests as he sent some of his droids inside the ship to collect the Neimoidian. 

“You are just as good as Jango claimed you are.” Dooku conceded. “Your credits for getting the job done.” He gestured and a droid came forward, handing a case to Dax that he gladly took. 

“Pleasure doing business with you your lordshipness.” Dax grinned, giving a mock bow. “If you ever need me again, you know who to call.” He purred, turning and heading back into his ship, intent on heading off to enjoy his newly gained funds. 

I didn’t know it then, but Count Dooku would play a large role in my life. Not long after I had completed that bounty, word spread fast through the hunters guilds that Jango Fett was dead. I thought at the time with Jango gone, so too were my connections to the separatists and Dooku. But with the war now upon the galaxy, Dooku reached out to me again with an offer I really couldn’t refuse.

[technowoah]

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

Moments between Jason Todd and his lover, whos apart of the League of Assassins btw

- Based on these headcanons I made

⚠︎: mentions of death, injures, not much gore, swearing and complicated feelings, also this is unedited so sorry for any typos or errors

"This shit sucks ass."

"Jason please stop with the swearing."

You both stumbled into his apartment, well your shared apartment. Coming from patroling the city you two were beaten pretty badly. Your League outfit that was once green and gold was now ruined in a blood red that was from your gashes and wounds.

Jason was beaten up badly too. His helmet was broken and he was supporting a black eye. His suit was ripped open showing newly fresh wounds.

The fight was just a hazy memory, you've both hit your heads a couple of times and right now it dosen't even matter. Whet matters most is that you both made it home.

To be honest you dont even know how you had the energy left to get back to his apartment. You thought you were going to bleed out so thats why you have Bruce's number on speedial at the moment.

You and Jason ended up in the kitchen before slowly falling to the cold ground. Not making it fully to the living room and covering the floor with dirt and blood. Both of you were breathing heavily without your masks on.

You two were lying on your backs heads faced toward eachother while your noses were almost touching. You beathed in his scent which smelt like blood and smoke and just smelt like the outdoors.

Some might say this would be a romantic moment.

Except for the fact that you both were bleeding out on the kitchen floor.

After a while of staring at eachother and wondering which one was gonna call for help first you whispered to him.

"We need to call for some assistance Jason."

"Its fine." He said while trying to get up from his spot on the floor. "I can get the medical kit, its in that cabinet."

The cabinet which he was talking about wasn't on the floor, it was a high shelf. Jason tried to stand up on his knees, but groaned in pain as he found his way back to the floor.

"Let me call Bruce."

"Hell. No"

"Jason-"

"Im not letting him save me. Im not weak." He groaned and you rolled your eyes.

"Jason, I am weak."

He paused for a moment. Seeing you both are in the same predicament. Both beaten, bloodied, hand and knees, chest and arms, canr barely move. He didn't want to pass out here, he didnt want you to either. He didn't want to calm Bruce.

"Call Alfred."

~~~

"Seems like you two got into some trouble?"

"Yeah a little bit." Jason responed to Alfred.

Alfred got you both to the couch and started on stiching your wounds. You both looked like mummies, but you both were cleaner than you were before.

"Thank you again." You spoke.

"There is no need for that, it is my job after all. Ive taken care of about 4 kids for all these years."

"Yeah, thank you Alfred." Jason responded.

"You're welcome." Alfred smiled at Jason and he gave a small smirk back. "So when are you going to tell master Bruce about the two of you?"

"Never." Jason said quickly. "I dont want him in my buisness, he'll try to take over my love live."

"Love life." You whispered but no one heard.

"He'll find out eventually you know?"

"Yeah"

"Until then we'll be fine Jason, I promise."

He was silent, he was thinking too hard and you could tell. The dim lights of the room gave a gloomy aspect but it highlighted his face well. Jason opened his mouth to protest like he always does, but you beat him to it.

"Im very good at keeping a secret am I not?" You teased waiting for his reaction.

It was a slight smirk but it dissappeared. "Yeah took a while to figure out you were from the Leauge. When you pretended you weren't apart of the League, that messed me up when you started training me."

"My best student." You whispered, guilt filled your heart when he brung up the past.

"Damn right." He smiled at you. For the first time today.

The moon was brighter than usual as you stared at it encapsulated by its beauty. The Leauge made a huge deal about the moon. It felt like you were home.

Jason had left you outside by yourself a while ago saying he needed wine. You both took lawn chairs outside to Bruces huge acre garden to have some sort of alone time at Bruce's house. He's been taking a while to get the wine and you probably should assume that his brothers were taking up his time. You kept staring at the moon.

"Is it that interesting as they say?"

You sat up and turned slightly to see Damian taking Jason's seat next to you.

"If you look yes it is."

"Is it true you studied the moon?"

"A lot of questions young one." You smirked and he scoffed. "Yes I did. One time in Egypt I studied it and immediately got immersed in the study of space."

Damian hummed in response and was about to ask a question, but remembered your response to him asking another question.

"Why are you hesitant?" You asked and he tensed beside you.

"You can tell from the Leauge right? Their training?"

"It was interesting, but yes. Like Jason per say." He raised his eyebrows in question. "His senses are heightened because of the Lazarus Pit right?"

He nodded and you admired his focus to your words. "Think like that. You're truly advanced Damian, but not as advanced as me." You laughed.

"How can I be?"

"What do you mean?"

"I want to be better." He looked seriously into your eyes with nothing but determination.

"You dont want to go back there Damian."

"I know but-"

"But nothing, Damian." You cut him off sternly. "It's horrible, a bad place with bad people. I dont care if they are considered family. Family can be bad as well."

"What if I want to change the Leauge of Assassins."

"Change the Leauge of Assassins, the very same one that's under Ra's rule?"

"Yes. Didn't I make myself clear."

"Clear as the moon Damian."

It's not like you hated the Leauge. You had a love-hate relationship with them. But you and Damian had seen the worse of it all and both of you know you're both better off here than back there.

"Think about it." Damian spoke into the air. You nodded as you both satnin silence with the tension slowly releasing the air. The only noise was the occasional crickets and your own mind.

"Why?" You asked Damian.

"Again you ask me why?"

"I ask you "why" because I want a plan from you. I dont do anything without a plan."

Damian scoffed, "You and Jason go on rouge missions all the time."

"Those are supposed to be secret." You chuckled.

"He's not as discreet as you are."

You laughed and at the sound of your laughter Damian had a small smirk. These times with the Waynes had helped you highten your emotions. Always been taught that emotions will hold you back, that they'll make you weak is nothing now. Jason and you work out your emotions. Both expressing things you both never expressed before. Joy, love, compassion, jealousy, sadness, rage. All because of Jason, every day you see yourself grow more. And he can say the same about you.

"You tryna steal my girlfriend demon?"

Speak of the devil.

"No Todd, just having lively conversation." Damian spoke as he stood up. You noticed he was more relaxed than when he came out to the garden before.

"We'll I'll appreciate it if you would leave us alone for now." He sat down the red wine and glassed on the grass then he occupied himself with opening the bottle, his muscles flexing while he did so distracted you for a bit while Damian was yelling at Jason for taking up too much of your time.

Jason somehow got the last and Damian left with a huff.

"We'll talk later Damian!" You yelled after him. He just turned around with a nod acknowledging your statement and closed the glass door behind him.

"Lively conversation huh?" Jason asked as he handed you a glass and filled it up as you held it.

"Yes." You smiled.

"Thats all I get is a "yes"?" He complained.

"Mhm."

"You're an ass."

It was a quiet night for Jason, I mean except for the Gotham noise below him. Crime has been slow, so he found his favorite rooftop that overlooked the city illuminated in its own beautiful way. Peaceful wasn't what followed him so he wondered why the universe gave him this.

"Funny seeing you here."

He turned his head slightly to see you walking towards him in all your assassin glory. Your outfit and mask was still on, but he could tell you're smiling. He really hit the jackpot today huh?

"You're back huh? To gloomy old Gotham."

"The mission was quick, too easy."

"Did you kill someone for me?" He chuckled while leaning against his shiny red helmet on the side of him.

"Of couse I did. For old times." You laughed while taking a spot next to him.

"Yeah, old times."

He had no idea why you were in his life. Why was the universe being so kind to him? This beauty sitting next to him, the night lights glowing softly on your face. You changed his life in so many beautiful confusing ways. Nothing was perfecy between you two and nothing will be stable, but to him its a perfect love story.

"Jason?"

"Yeah."

"Just I need-" You huffed out of frustration. "Kiss me." You blurted out while he just stared at you.

"Jason this was so long without you I need you to kiss-" You finally got what you wanted when he molded your lips together.

Your lips moved in unison while your hand traveled up his shoulder and to his neck and his hand help your waist. It felt like heaven ti Jason, your lips on his. His home. His gaurdian angel back in his arms. His hand around your waist gripped the fabric tightly wanting nothing more to rip the traditional armor off of you and feel you close.

He parted for a second for air. "You're home." His breath tickled your lips

You both were and hour away from your shared apartment, but you knew what he meant.

You pecked his lips. "Im home."

The motel stinked, but it was the only temporary option.

Jason was lying on the bed on his laptop he somehow brought, am6d you were polishing your swords when he sat up beside you and pushed the computer in your lap.

"Egypt?"

"Egypt doll!"

You could tell he was excited about this. "What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that we go to Egypt. For a week? And we're going there for fun this time. You spoke very highly of it."

You glared at him

"5 days." He srunk

"Why Jason-"

"You always said you wanted to travel the world." Jason rebuttals.

"Yes I have expressed that, but-"

"But nothing. Im making this dream a reality."

Jason scooted closer to you closing the gap that was once inbetween you.

"Jason," You started. "Egypt is just one place."

"Yeah, but then we can travel from there." He smiled.

"Like Brazil?"

"If you want baby."

"Greece? Tokyo? Greenland?"

"All that and more doll." You gave him a look. It was a look of uncertainty. He knew that look too well.

Jason was reckless, you were too, in the field, not in real life. Money wasn't much for you because the Leauge would take care of it all, but Jason was different. You wouldn't want him spending money on you so frivolously.

"I'll do anything for you, you know that right." He whispered leaning in closer to you.

"Sometimes."

"I'll burn the Earth for you if you wanted."

"Im not used to hearing stuff like this said to me. You make me feel love again Jason." You whispered back to him.

Jason wasn't one to voice his emotions often so he just kissed you, hard. It felt like he wanted to devour you before breaking the kiss for a second.

"So, am I buying the tickets or nah?"

"Jason im not leaving my home!"

"I thought you hated that place?!"

You and Jason had been fortunate enough to get back home before you both exploded on eachother. The pent up frustration from the last mission you were sent on by the Leauge caused tension between you, Jason, and his family as well.

Dick was worried sick about you. You came back with cuts and bruises adorning your body like jewels.

Tim did not expect the Leauge to not treat you after such a mission. He expected for them to take carew of your wounds but after you told them that and I quote, "We're told to take care of our own wounds, not to be a burden to others." He was fuming.

Damian was dissapointed. He knew you were the Leauge's top fighters, he respected you for that, but one of their top fighters should know their limits. You should have a say on what mission you take or not, but you don't which leads him to try and convince you to leave.

"They made me who I am Jason."

"Who gives a fuck?! I dont care! You're not a killing machine! You're a human!"

You scoffed at that comment, but that made him evem more enraged.

"Are you listening to me?"

"I hear you loud and clear cause your fucking damaging my eardrums!" You ran your hands over your head. "I dont know."

"You dont know what?" Jason sternly questions.

"Im conflicted."

"It shouldn't be that fucking hard."

"Maybe its okay for you to leave your family Jason, but I cant! My mother-"

"You dont have to." Jason interrupted you. He knew your mom died a long time ago. He knew that the Leauge took care of you in her place.

"I feel like that's all I have of her."

"Thats not true."

You both we're silent for a while. You refuse to let tears fall on your cheeks. Jason's hands were slowly releasing their hard clench.

"Im sorry." You said.

"Me too." Jason follows.

"We're really fucked aren't we?" You laughed a tear trickling down your cheek. Jason stepped closer to you and took his thumb and wiped your tear.

"Now look who's swearing now." He laughed. He pulled you in for a hug encased in his broad arms and rested his head ontop of yours. "And yes we are."

..........

You and Jason were cuddled up againt eachother with him fast asleep. He was snoring pretty loud and that woke you up out of your peaceful sleep.

Carefully, you slipped out of his arms and the covers and headed towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

You padded to the kitchen when you felt a presence in the apartment with you.

"Damian."

"How did you know?"

"I felt your presence." You smirked and he scoffed.

"Are you better?" He asks while sitting on the kitchen island.

"No." You chuckled.

You both were quiet with him not knowing what to say.

"Will you take my offer?"

"Which one?"

"To reform the Leauge of Assassins." He spoke in some sort of heroic tone he learned from his father.

"Ah I forgot about that one. When was this? December?" You teased

"June 13." He deadpanned.

"I know. Why would I take up your offer now?" You questioned trying to get him to spill.

"I want to go back just as much as you. But its horrible we could run it together!" He shouted.

"Keep it down." You shushed him "Jason is alseep."

"What's there to loose?" He grunted.

"Everything, Damian."

"What are you doing here at 3am?" Jasom stumbled into the kitchen wrapping an arm around you.

"You always have to interrupt our conversations Todd?"

"Yeah I want my girlfriend back to bed." He snipped while taking your glass and stealth a sip of your water.

"Damian?" You softly spoke.

"Yes?"

"Stay here tonight. I'll call Bruce and tell him that his son was worried about me." You joked and he scoffed again already gathering the blankets and pillows from the last time he stayed on the couch, turning on the TV making himself at home.

"Its like we already have a kid."

"Shut up." Jason rolled his eyes and chuckled before filling up the glass again and going back to bed.

"Damian." You called out his name again and he lifted his head from the couch.

"Let's have this conversation when you're older okay?"

He gave you a small smile before turning his attention back to the TV.

You cuddled back with Jason under the covers, he gave you a small kiss on your forehead before shutting his eyes.

"I think I want to change the Leauge of Assassins."

"You do you babe." He slurred.

"Jay Im serious."

"Im serious too. Do whatever you want I'll be here right by your side. No matter how dangerous."

"No matter how deadly?" You sighed.

"You know I love a good deadly mission once and a while." He smirked with his eyes closed.

"I love you."

"I love you too doll. And I'll follow you to the ends of the earth."

[mykingdomforasong]

Fic prompt - Han/Din/Luke out at dinner - one of them thinks they’re third wheeling but they’re actually on a Date

((Decided to make them all stupid.))

*~*~*

Luke was in pain. He looked down at his dinner plate, sure that if he made any attempt to eat it, he'd throw up. He was grinding his teeth together, pulling at a loose threat on his glove, ready to run out the door at any moment.

When Din had suggested this dinner, he expected he'd be able to handle it. So what if his best friend and probably the great love of his life was dating his student's father? So what if Luke had developed overwhelming, all-consuming feelings for that father too?

He could handle the dinner.

"You okay, Junior?" Han asked.

"Totally fine," Luke said, lying through his teeth.

Han looked strange too, Luke noticed. Maybe this whole operation was a bad idea.

Din rested a hand on Luke's knee, and Luke nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Sorry," Din said. But he left his hand there. Luke glanced at Han, who'd turned away.

~

Han felt stupid. Of course that's what this was. Din wasn't interested in him. They'd connected over their boys' training, and nothing else. Luke, like always, was the golden boy, the one everyone was after.

Han counted himself among the many after him.

Shortly after he and Leia separated, Luke had turned him down, not wanting to feel like "the backup." No matter what Han did or said, he never seemed to quite get through to Luke just what he meant to him.

And now some handsome Mandalorian daddy had scooped Luke up right out from under him.

Why he'd agreed to this dinner at all, he had no idea. Any excuse to see the two of them, he guessed. What a fucking moron he was.

~

Din had never been happier. His two partners already loved each other, which made bringing them together that much easier. He wasn't really taking his helmet off for them yet - just lifting it to eat and drink - but all of the feelings were there. There was intimacy like Din had never really shared with romantic partners before.

But tonight, both men seemed a bit ... strange. He tried not to think about it. It had been a long time since they'd last been together. And, anyway, they still weren't back together yet, just both dating Din. Din was hoping to change all of that soon.

Luke stood up suddenly. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this."

"Cyar'ike," Din said, reaching out for him, "what's wrong?"

"No, Luke, you stay," Han said. "I'm making this weird. I should leave," Han offered, standing.

"Why would you leave?" Luke asked.

"He's your Mando."

"He's not my anything," Luke said.

Din's face fell behind his helmet. Oh.

"You're not?" Din asked.

"What?" Luke asked.

"You're both ... precious to me," Din said.

"We're precious?" Din couldn't tell if Han's tone was mocking or bewildered. Probably both.

Luke sat back down. "What ... why are we here?" He asked.

Din stared at the table. "We're ... on a date. Having dinner together. I thought it was time we all had dinner together, instead of leaving one person out," Din said, not sure exactly where the confusion came from.

Both men stared at him confused. They were confused? Din was confused! Images of the intimacy between them all flashed through his mind -- his helmet tilted up for shared meals; Luke leaning his body on his for comfort; he and Han exchanging parenting stories; Han getting on his --

"I thought you were both --," Din paused. "I'm sorry, I wasn't very clear."

Han sat back down. "So we're," he pointed at Din, "dating?"

"Yes."

"And you're," he pointed back and forth between him and Luke, "dating?"

"Yes."

"So we're all," he made a circle with his finger, "dating?"

"That's why I asked us to have dinner. To figure that out."

Luke's face was in his hands.

"Did you really both not know?" Din asked. "I thought I was very obvious."

Han patted him on the shoulder. "Buddy," he paused, "guess that's not a great thing to call a boyfriend. ... Sweetie pie, you've never been obvious about anything."

[reneeofthestars]

Peril on Patrol!

Forgot to post this! This is a fic that I had the privilege to write for @vodeanzine​ , a Clone Trooper Zine!

This piece features Sister, a clone trooper of the 212th!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45644128

word count: 2226

*     *    *

Sister could never decide if she loved or loathed being on patrol.

On the one hand, it was critical for the security of the base. She was proud that Commander Cody trusted her skills to be among the first line of defense.

On the other hand, it was painfully boring.

Well, “boring” wasn’t quite the right word. Patrolling the perimeter of the hastily-established base required Sister to be focused and disciplined, alert for anything that might signal a hostile presence. But a good patrol meant nothing happened, which often led to strung-out nerves for no reason. So, every clone regularly on patrol duty had developed the skill of keeping watch for anything out-of-place, while also using the opportunity to relax.

Now, Sister uttered a quiet laugh, filtered through her helmet.

“Don’t tell me you actually watch those Jedi romance holos?”

“Sure,” Wooley said, inclining his own bucket towards her. “Jedi romance, Deep Space horrors, Wild Space adventures, Shilian dramas – I haven’t found a genre I don’t like.”

Sister shook her head. “Romances are fine, but I can’t watch the Jedi ones with a straight face. Not now that I know they’re only people.” She pivoted suddenly and scanned the land behind them, hands tight on her blaster rifle. Rusty-red scrubgrass, arching silicone formations, and looming crimson plants surrounded them, but her HUD didn’t detect any movement, heat signatures, or electromagnetic signals. No sign of any Separatists or local fauna following them through the Anaxes forest. She walked backwards for a few paces before turning around again. “Still clear.”

“Figures.” Wooley did a brief scan of the foliage to the right before looking up as they passed beneath one of the red plants. “Y’know, those remind me of the piona jellyfish back on Kamino.”

Once he mentioned it, Sister couldn’t help but agree. Long, undulating tendrils dangled from the bulbous, blossoming tops; so similar to the frills that dragged lazily behind the incredibly toxic – and absurdly large – languid invertebrates that drifted through the Kaminoan seas.

“Uh, they are plants, right? Not some sort of creature lying in wait for a tasty clone to devour?” She deliberately maneuvered around a particularly long tendril.

Wooley shrugged. “Could be a clone-eating plant, too. You never know with this galaxy.”

And what a galaxy it was. In the short time she’d been outside of Kamino’s torrential storms, Sister had seen more creatures, people, and landscapes than her studies had prepared her for. She did another sweep of their surroundings. Still no droids or lifeforms around. The creatures here seemed skittish.

They lapsed back into silence as they climbed a particularly rocky slope. It proved to be a hill, set at a higher elevation than the land around it. They paused to catch their breath, and Sister gazed around. A light mist wrapped around their legs, hugging the ground and stretching as far as she could see, weaving among the stalks and trunks of the reddish land. Spires of rounded rocks dotted the landscape, casting long shadows as the sun sunk lower behind hazy mountains.

“Do you ever miss Kamino?” Wooley asked, staring at the sunset.

“No.”

Sister was surprised how quickly she answered. She’d answered so seriously, without thought, that her voice dropped nearly to her brothers’ pitch.

Wooley’s helmet tilted slightly. “Not even a little?”

She cleared her throat. “No,” she said again, raising her voice to a more comfortable pitch. “I never felt… safe. I don’t know about your division, but in Tipoca City, to be different was to risk disappearing. The Kaminoans didn’t like ‘different’.”

Wooley nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“But my brothers took care of me. They always protected me, always made me feel safe.” Kamino was never home to Sister; home was wherever her brothers were. She pulled herself out of her reverie. “Do you miss it?”

Wooley sounded sheepish as he admitted, “Sometimes. But I might just miss the idea of it. Life was so slow and steady back then, and now it’s nothing but movement, you know? Sometimes, I just want to have a chance to rest like we used to.”

“Rest will come.” She didn’t bother to say more; they were both thinking it. Sister adjusted some controls on her HUD and did another sweep. The Republic base was well-concealed in the distance, and only came up because she knew what she was looking for. Beyond that, no structures pinged on her scanners.

A comm notice popped up on Sister’s HUD. Moments later, Trapper’s voice crackled in her ear. “You two are standing out like sunburnt taun-tauns up there. If you’re done with your sightseeing, it looks like our patrol loops are about to intersect. Want to join up for the last leg?”

Wooley nodded, and Sister replied, “It’ll be good to have you.”

“See you in three minutes, vod.”

Together, Sister and Wooley began their descent down the other side of the hill. It was considerably steeper than what they’d just climbed, so it took some careful maneuvering.

As they got back below the treeline, Sister asked, “Where do you want to retire to?”

Wooley gave a startled laugh. “Retire to? I think we need to survive the war first.”

“C’mon, you’ve thought about it.” Sister bumped him gently with her shoulder. “We’ve all thought about it. Don’t get bogged down with the existentialism.” She paused, considering the landscape bathed in red sunset. “I’d get a bunch of brothers to settle on Christophsis. The land’s covered in these gorgeous turquoise crystals. The way the light catches at dawn and sunset – I’ve never seen so many colors.” After nearly a decade of the stark white walls of Kaminoan cities, she was determined to experience as many colors as her vision spectrum would allow.

Wooley was quiet as he thought. He parted a particularly dense patch of scrubgrass with his rifle before moving on. “Of the places I’ve been,” he said at length, “I think I’d like to live on Ryloth. The area we were in was hot, but there are a bunch of different biomes to roam between. I like the Twi’leks. They’re good people, and, I dunno … I’d like to help them, if I can.”

Heat signatures registered on Sister’s HUD. She held up a hand to quiet Wooley and adjusted the specs. She relaxed; the forms were clones.

“Trapper, how goes the western bank?” Wooley asked as the other two came around a low-grown plant. He took a moment to lean his blaster against a boulder and shake the stiffness out of his arms. Sister followed his lead; the tightness in her limbs relaxed and she took in a steadying breath.

“Nothing to report,” Trapper answered as he approached. “Unless you count a nesting viper that Longshot tripped over.”

“You said you wouldn’t bring it up,” Longshot grumbled from behind him, squaring his shoulders.

“I lied,” Trapper replied mildly.

Sister grinned at Longshot, even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know you were here! You get reassigned?”

“My squad just got back from a survey on one of the orbital moons.” Her batchmate took off his bucket and wiped his brow. “Nothing there but a bunch of rocks.” Longshot pulled out his canteen and took a swig before offering it to Trapper.

“We’re not supposed to take our armor off –” Wooley started nervously, before Trapper thumped the canteen against his chestplate.

“Drink,” Trapper ordered. And Wooley removed his helmet to drink.

Sister removed her bucket too, shaking out her thick dark hair. The elastic holding her hair in place had broken an hour ago, and had been falling into her eyes.

As she fished around in her utility belt for a replacement, Trapper grinned. “It’s grown out a lot, eh? Looks good.”

“Grew fast at first,” she answered as she wound her hair around into a knot to fit under her helmet, “but it’s slowed down now. Hasn’t gone past my shoulders yet.” She fastened the elastic just as Wooley handed off the canteen. She took it gladly; she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. As she lowered the container, she spied an odd expression on Longshot’s face. “What?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. Just – I was looking at a holo I have of us on Kamino. Your face is a lot softer – rounder, maybe – than it was then.”

“The rest of my weight’s redistributed too. I thought the saying about food going straight to the hips was an expression, but apparently not.” Sister toasted him with the canteen. “Hormones work wonders.”

Longshot took the canteen back from her, but before he pulled away, he clapped her on the shoulder and inclined his head. “I’m happy for you, Sister. We all are.”

Sister beamed and pressed her forehead against his. “Thank you, vod.”

They stood a moment more before Sister gave him a slightly-less-gentle headbutt. “I guess we’ve loitered long enough.” She donned her helmet, and the others followed suit. As they resumed their joint patrols, she said, “So, Wooley and I were talking about where we’d like to retire. He says Ryloth, I say Christophsis. What about you two?”

“Naboo,” Longshot answered immediately.

“You’ve been?”

He raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “No. But you’ve seen the holos. It’s beautiful, peaceful. I think it would be nice to learn about art… or whatever else they teach there.”

“I suppose our education of the arts is severely lacking.”

“I could get used to life on Coruscant,” Trapper mused, trodding through a tangle of scrubgrass. “Plenty of nightlife, drinks, opportunities – never a dull moment.”

“This is your retirement, Trapper,” Wooley reminded him. “We’re talking about when we’re old and not good for fighting.”

Trapper shrugged. “Fighting’s what we’re for. I’m never not going to be good at it.”

Sister checked behind them for any movement. “Now I’m imagining Ninety-Nine in a fistfight in some seedy cantina with neon lights.”

“I’ll be lucky if I’m in Ninety-Nine’s shape by the time this war’s over.”

Sister laughed as she pushed aside a short tendrilled plant –

And almost walked right into a probe droid.

Sister reeled back as the droid let out a high mechanical whine of surprise, its numerous dangling limbs convulsing instinctively. Its black-domed head spun on its axis, bulbous lenses flashing as it swiveled to each of the clones.

“Blast it!” Trapper shouted.

Sister didn’t need to be told twice; adrenaline surged through her veins. She felt a smug satisfaction that the stress of patrol wasn’t unwarranted this time. She sprinted to the right as Wooley lunged left, Trapper charging forward as Longshot backed up to get a better aim.

But the droid recovered as quickly as the clones. It spun into the air, red blaster bolts screaming down around them. Sister dove behind a boulder for cover, rock fragments splintering around her, and spotted Longshot taking a defensive position in a shallow crevasse, Wooley darting through a thick grove of the red plants.

Trapper didn’t look for cover; he raced straight towards the droid, trying to draw its fire.

It worked.

The droid’s lens narrowed in on Trapper, its extra blaster ports recalibrating –

Sister raised her blaster rifle and fired. The antenna comm system jutting from the dome exploded, Wooley’s shot disabled the main blaster with a spark and a flash of blue, and Longshot’s careful aim left the droid short-circuiting, broken shards where its main photo receptor had been.

The probe droid sputtered in the air a moment more, then tumbled to the ground with the groan of electronics and the crash of metal.

Trapper didn’t take any chances. He put one, two, three more bolts through the droid’s chassis in quick succession.

The silence was almost as deafening as the sudden blasterfire. Sister pivoted, narrowing her scanners, sweeping the area for any more droids. There were none.

“A scout?” Longshot growled as they gathered around the husk of metal.

Wooley was already tapping into the comms. “Patrol Osk to Base, come in, Base.”

Squatting down, Sister knocked more of the chassis apart, peering into the sparking wires and metal bits. The comms crackled a moment more before Commander Cody’s voice sounded in their helmets. “Base here. Status report.”

“We just ran across a Separatist probe droid,” Wooley said above her. “It’s destroyed now, but we don’t know where it came from.”

“Did it transmit a signal?”

They all exchanged a look. “No way to tell, sir.”

There was a pause, then the Commander switched to full-range comms. “I want all patrols back to Base immediately. All forces are to pull back while we evaluate a new situation.”

“Yes, sir,” all four of them said at once.

Her brothers made as if to start moving, but Sister didn’t stand; she plunged her hands into the depths of the droid, doing her best to avoid the still-live wiring.

Longshot looked down at her. “What are you doing?”

“Getting its brain,” she replied as her gloved fingers found their target. She gave a sharp twist, and the processor fell into her hands. She withdrew it, holding the rectangular object up. “Might have something useful on it.”

Trapper nodded. “Good thinking, Sister. C’mon. Let’s get moving.”

They set out at a brisk pace, keeping alert as they moved through the strange red forest.

Sister wasn’t worried; not when she had her brothers with her. Whatever happened, they’d face it together.

[flooficandii]

what do u think ab an au where the vp takes in kids with radiant abilities to train them as the "future" of valorant

this idea's kinda scuffed af bc idk much ab the lore actually i'm still confused ab kingdom n earth but i just want an excuse to see the agents babysitting chaotic kids with powers LMAOAoadjdj

IM NOT GONNA LIE THAT WOULD SOUND SUPER CUTE LMAO RADIANT BABY DAYCARE,,,, also this is a perfect excuse to put my headcanons about which of the agents are the best with kids

parents. like, literal parents dude

brimstone. he is the first immediate thing that comes to mind when i think of parenting. i mean look at the way he talks to the rest of the agents, you can't tell me he won't do well with kids

CYPHER!!! bro cypher would LOVE kids,,,,i hc he was really excited to be a dad but nora kinda died with his unborn baby so,, yknow he has that yearning feeling and he kinda projects that nature onto the younguns. he may be super secretive and shifty but you can tell he cares for them and would love to have children running around the base

sage!! sage radiates this energy of warmth and comfort and security, you'll always feel safe with her so she'd be wonderful with children :]] she won't hesitate to be strict if needed though so just make sure to stay on her good side unless,,, "YOUR HOMEWORK IS NOT OVER!!!"

reyna. surprisingly. although she isn't as much a parent as the rest of them, she wILL break someone's arm for a kid. she may be very murderous but kids might be her soft spot (glances vaguely at her little sister)

tbh i see her as the kind of caretaker that'll let her kid do awful things lmao

"miss reyna can i say a curse word ple a se ,,,"

"of course, cariño."

"FUCK!!!!"

okay at it/awkward but trying

omen. omen isn't sure how to interact with children,,,, like, i headcanon he scares them away a lot

if one of them happens to be NOT scared?? *immediately imprints*

i think the most he'd do while watching over children is just sit there with his knitting needles and grunt Menacingly whenever they start causing trouble

viper. viper also scares kids away, understandably so, but she does have this maternal nature despite her scary aura (exhibit a: duality)

i headcanon she actually dislikes children and tries to avoid them as much as possible but will be incREDIBLY protective if they're threatened

yoru. he finds kids annoying. but if he were put in a situation where he HAD to keep an eye on them he'd probably try

just a little bit

as a treat

he'll call them brats or something lmAO what a bitch

unless one of them calls him cool and feeds his ego

then yeah he'll love them lol

imagine yoru going into his rift and picking the kid up to make it look like they're flying

a parent? maybe not, it's really not something on his list of ideals. but a big brother figure? sure! it means he gets to bully tease children to his heart’s content

sova. sova is okay at babysitting. he’s very quiet though so the kids usually get bored with him

he’s quick to straighten them up if they’re misbehaving

maybe he’ll tell fairy tales about the mountains or something

*deep thick russian voice* “When I was still living with my babushka in the frigid mountains of the North,”

babysitters at most

jett. jett seems like the cool babysitter who lets you do anything and everything lmao,, stay up past your bedtime?? sure thing. snacks before dinner?? hell yeah. you want her to show you her cool spinny wind trick?? of course!!

raze! raze gives off the vibes of the girl next door who everyone in the neighborhood knows and loves. she probably hung out with the kids in her town a lot and would draw with them, make music with them, etc. very big sister vibes 10/10 just don't let her have explosives around them

ASTRA!!! astra astra astra i bet she’d be the type to give piggy back rides and make little stardust confetti to wow them with!! she’ll sing songs and read stories and maybe do little puppet shows for them  

skye would do great with kids! she’s strong enough to catch up to them during vigorous games of tag and she’d let them pet her tiger

her animals love the kids too

imagine taz lying on his back as they pet his belly and hawko perching on top of their heads

haha! *slowly pulls them away from the children*

breach. i dont know about you guys but if you left him with a kid he would lose them in like 1.5 minutes

“what? they’re tiny, you think i’d notice?”

bro he is such a fucking bully he’d punt a kid across a football field

i guess he’d let them sit on his giant bionic shoulders but thats it

phoenix.

says he has it under control

does NOT have it under control

“alright, fam! leave it to me, i can handle some younguns-”

*burns down the entire hq after trying to show them a trick*

killjoy. bro she would use them for her experiments without batting an eye

“KILLJOY WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THE KIDS”

“testing the sensor range of my turret!! :DD relax, it won’t hurt them- they’re wearing helmets!”

“KILLJOY THEY’RE WRAPPED IN BUBBLE WRAP I DON’T THINK THAT’S HUMANE”

kay/o.

i dunno man i don’t think he’d even know what to do with kids

also he might accidentally break their spine if they wanted a hug lmao

he won’t hurt them on purpose but this is just,,,a safety measure

k would do great with kids though :]] big friendly guy

[monsterlover48]

Part 1: The Meeting

<<Masterlist>> <<Previous>> <<Next>>

Bodyguard!Orc x Princess!Reader

Summary: Y/N, the princess of Evermore, the beauty of the west. She had many suitors, many men, and women who wanted her by their side. Too bad her eyes were already set the day he came to save her life.

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks (sorta), medieval fighting

~~~ Princess Y/N was a kind soul. Always tended to her princess duties and went out of her way to give to the lower class. Everyone loved her, and they knew she would be a wonderful queen.

When word got out about the attempted assassination, the people were outraged that someone would dare hurt their beloved princess. Y/N Could still feel the man's glove-clad hand grasp her face to silence her screams every time she closed her eyes, and she didn't know how to get the image out of her head.

The morning breeze soothed her warm skin as she walked outside and into the growing gardens of her castle. The beautiful greens of the grass and plants paired with the myriad of colours that decorated the flowers set the frantic princess' mind at ease. She had one hell of a night, and it took hours for her to get a good night's rest. Her mind was plagued with nightmares of her death and the death of her people. She just wished it wouldn't come true.

Y/N had worn a lilac dress that morning, lace on the sleeves, and a large bow on the back. It was her favorite, and she wanted to wear it to bring up her mood. She didn't want anyone to see the wound on her arm, but the bulk of the bandages showed through her frilly sleeves.

"M'lady. The king requests you." Y/N handmaiden, Cassandra, spoke quietly, breaking the serenity of the garden. The princess's shoulders deflated, and she hung her head low before she smiled at her friend.

"Do you know what about?" She asked, linking her good arm with Cassandra's. The maiden giggled and shook her head playfully.

"Your knight is coming to protect you. They're having a contest to see who could protect you the best." Cassandra grinned. Y/N's cheeks flushed, and she gasped.

"Today? Do I look alright?" The woman began to unnecessarily judge herself, muttering curses of how she should have done her hair better.

"You look fine." Cassandra giggled. They walked down the large corridor and through the guards that stood straighter at the sight of their princess. Y/N nodded and bowed to everyone she passed politely, a smile stuck on her face in her princess facade.

"Daughter, you took long enough." Her father playfully scolded, holding a hand out to help her into the royal chair. They were in the courtyard where entertainers, fighters, or jousters came to do their thing.

As Y/N looked amongst the crowd, she saw many creatures in knight armor. Ranging from tieflings to humans. But one she hadn't seen before, someone massive in size. It was well known that Evermore was more of the accepting kind when it came to other races, but not many creatures of that size came to the lovely kingdom. And they were all fighting for her favor as a personal guard. She felt as though the taller one would win. She couldn't see his face or even his skin to tell what he could be, but she didn't care. The princess didn't necessarily want a personal guard, but if she was to get one, she wanted it to be someone who could truly protect her life.

"Which do you think would win, princess?" A voice asked behind her. Y/N turned to see a man she's never met before. He was handsome; bright blue eyes and dark brown hair with chiseled features, but she wasn't too interested. He smiled at her with an attempt to be charming, but she knew the play.

"The tall one." She replied, pointing towards the looming figure as he practiced by his lonesome.

"Ah yes, that one. He seems pretty strong." He chuckled, and Y/N realized he had an accent that wasn't from Evermore.

"What's your name?" Y/N asked curiously. However, before he could respond, the tournament speaker began his speech about the rules and how the tournament would go.

The trumpets sounded, and two knights stepped up before they began to fight. Swords clashing and metal banging sounded around the courtyard, and Y/N was on the edge of her seat every time a knight fell. She hoped they weren't too injured, but she had to admit, it was interesting to watch them fight.

By the time the last two were up, it was two large men, clad head to toe in thick armor, but Y/N noticed the one she kept her eyes on. The tall one with bulging muscles. She bit her lip as they started, gasping when the clashing of swords and their blasts against armor. But ultimately, she was correct; the tall one was the champion. The crowd cheered loudly as the last man fell, and the tall man roared triumphantly.

The princess stood from her place and straightened out the skirt of her dress. Everyone gasped when the creature took off his helmet, revealing an orc to be the champion. Orcs used to be the villains of Evermore's story, but the war had ended, and they were at peace. However, that doesn't mean many orcs came into Evermore and never came to protect their princess. Y/N looked around at the shocked faces of her people and squared her shoulders before she walked out of the royal seating and to the courtyard where the champion stood.

Everyone watched their princess with wary eyes and shifted in their seats as she approached him. The closer she looked, he was taller than she expected. Thrice her size, and he had a scowl upon his handsome features. His skin was a pale green, and he had large tusks sticking out from his mouth. His mean stare didn't detour the princess as she smiled and bowed politely to the knight.

"It seems you have won. What is your name?" She asked, clasping her hand behind her back. He huffed a piece of stray black hair away from his eyes, the long strands reaching past his shoulders. He bowed to her when she walked closer, propping his arm onto his knee.

"Rhudrak Fang Cracker." He replied. His voice was gruff, as though he had gargled rocks before he spoke.

"Well, Rhudrak Fang Cracker. It is nice to meet you. I will be happy to work with you." The crowd cheered then, the piercing noise almost startling the princess. She turned to look at the crowd before looking back at her knight.

"Yes! This man is my daughter's champion. The one who will protect her with his life. Do you agree?" Her father asked, walking into the courtyard as well. Her father was a very accepting man, and no matter the fact that he witnessed orcs kill many of his people, he would never discriminate against a man who wanted to protect his only daughter.

"I agree," Rhudrak responded. King Gustus nodded, and Y/N smiled at the crowd as the royal family plus the knight and other guards walked back to the castle. Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at the steely man. She found it very interesting that an orc would want to protect her. And he looked so mysterious. She just wandered-

"Y/N, dearest." Her mother scolded. Y/N tore her eyes away from her knight with warm cheeks and turned to her mother.

"Yes, mother?" She asked. Meira shook her head disapprovingly and continued walking.

"Your father was talking to you." She hissed. Y/N bowed her head in embarrassment, and she could've sworn she saw a ghost of a smile on her Rhudrak's face.

"While you were in your fantasy land, I was discussing the rules of your supervisor and how you must act." He told her with a kind and understanding smile. Y/N was very close to her father, and she was glad to have him understand how easy it was for her to get lost in the clouds. Unlike her strict mother.

"What are his rules?"

"No. Your rules." Her father corrected. Y/N gasped and choked on her spit before she looked at the people in front of her.

"What do you mean 'my' rules?" Y/N asked incredulously.

"You are not to leave the sight of Rhudrak. The only time you will be alone is when in your chambers, safe. You will do what he asks of you. If he tells you to run, to hide, or even to walk, you do it. He is there to protect you; let him do his job. No running around the halls in the middle of the nights anymore. People are after you, my dear, and I couldn't stand losing you. It almost happened once, and I will not let it happen again." Her father told her. She wanted to roll her eyes, to pout and say 'not fair.' But she almost died that night. The visions still haunt her in her sleep and even during the day. She knew if she wanted to survive, she must do what her father asks of her.

"Yes, father." She replied solemnly, all traces of humor gone from the conversation.

"Now go make yourselves acquainted while showing him his room. It's the one next to yours." Y/N nodded and looked at her parents awkwardly as they walked away.

"Your room is this way on the third floor," Y/N spoke. She was exhausted from the excitement of the day and had zero social energy, but she knew she had to do it anyways.

"Third floor? How do you even get upstairs with those tiny shoes on?" Rhudrak chuckled. Y/N hid her giggle behind her hand and shook her head as they approached the stairway.

"With difficulty. Try walking around hours a day with a corset on." She scoffed. Rhudrak laughed loudly but quickly quieted down.

"Tell me about the night of your attack." He asked suddenly. Y/N was taken aback by the sudden question as they walked up the many stairs.

"Well... I couldn't sleep. I think that's the only reason I'm alive right now. He wore a black mask with strange symbols on it. He was human-sized. That's all remember." She said. She was lying of course. She could remember so much more. The blue of his eyes and the stench of leather as his hand clamped down onto her mouth. She couldn't breathe when he sat on her. She felt hopeless and the gleam of the moonlight on his blade made her shiver with unease.

"Princess?" Rhudrak asked gently, looking at her with a thoughtful gaze. She snapped out of her wandering thoughts and shook her head with a smile.

"Well, here you are. My chambers are right here. I'll let you get settled in." She said with a bow, walking back to her room. She shut the door gently and allowed herself to break slightly at the memory of her attack, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks.

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