#current plan is being mute for a while and very distressed about it!

[sunliteve]

mid-night me: I cannot think of the worst thing hiyori could dream into existence :( morning me: voice gone >:)

[azwriting]

Starlight (Captain Rex x FemJedi!Reader) Part 2/4

A/N: And we’e back! The feedback on the first part of this was amazing and I’m sorry it took so long to post this part but here it is :) I’m also splitting this up because it was just getting to be too long so extra part! Hope you enjoy! Also season 7 has me fucked up, that is all. 

Summary: After the events of Order 66, Rex with the help of Ahsoka ventures out into the galaxy in search of the Jedi he cares deeply about and relives moments shared between the two.

Word Count: 3460

Warning(s): Typical order 66 angst, Rex being an angsty boy, me making up GAR “rules”

The ballad of battle flooded the ears of the 501st as they took cover behind large deposits of rock and debris. Separatist droids had surrounded the remaining members of Torrent company on Christophsis as they attempted to hold their ground on the bridge. They could not afford to lose it.

Rex crouched down among his brothers, gripping his blasters tightly as he heaved in deep sporadic breaths.

Through the smoke of blaster shots, war was an illusion painted vibrantly. The sight comparable to the paintings he had come by on his deployments, especially on Naboo. But war was not vibrant and rich with life like those paintings. No, war was an image destroyed and never completely whole, where branches of death and despair weaved in and out of a dutiful life.

Rex had imagined a life like that painting on Naboo and in the smoke of the battlefield he could almost reach out to touch it. A bitter laugh lodged itself in his throat, a man created to fight a war dreaming of life without it, something he’d never known. Not yet…

“These clankers are gaining Captain!” Jesse shouted from his side, bucket lit by streams of blasts whirling by. His voice brings the Captain of the 501st back to reality.

“Sir as much as I love a game of count the clanker down,” On his left, Fives paused springing up from his place of cover to take a few shots at closing in droids. Each shot striking true. “I have to agree this is getting to be a bit much.”  

“We need reinforcements!” Echo added alongside Fives, causing the other men to nod in agreement. It took a lot for the Torrent company to admit they needed help…

Rex knew his vods were becoming weary, this “stealth operation” to gain intel unfortunately turning into a long drawn out shoot out, but they had to hold out just for a little longer.

“General said to hang in there boys! Said he had something big plan-” Before Rex could finish his words of encouragement a shadow moved in his line of vision.

Eyes whipping beneath his helmet in search of the movement, Rex expected to find an ambush mounting their assault on the unassuming soldiers from their rear, not … a civilian?

A figure was pressed low into the ground seeking cover behind the makeshift shelter his men were currently occupying. A tattered and distressed cloak concealed most of the unknown figure, but Rex could make out a hand hidden in a large draping sleeve clutching something tightly.

What in the Maker… where had they come from?

“Someone get the civilian out of here!” Rex shouted over the buzz of combat, eyes jumping back over to the person who had somehow successfully maneuvered themselves to crouch down besides him. The Captain froze in surprise, catching the way narrowed eyes peeking out from the hood were illuminated by streaks of red and blue.

“It’s not safe.” He spoke thickly to the civilian, unsure why they had chosen to inch closer to danger.

As if to further his claim, an explosion sounded off from the enemies line. A cloud of smoke erupted from the blast’s origin and came hurtling towards the 501st. A spray of debris showered across the bridge as the men ducked, hands cradling concealed heads as they attempted to shroud themselves from the ricochet of the explosion.

Rex’s ears rang as the echo of the blast faded into nothing but white noise. Several blue painted helmets peered over the barrier of debris to find all the clankers collapsed to the ground, circuits fried, and parts in disarray.

The armored assault tank that aided in overwhelming the Republic forces, now laid in a bed of flames, General Skywalker perched on top of it.  In one hand was his ignited lightsaber, the very lightsaber that had been used to save the Republic from defeat far too many times, its blue hue casting a shadow onto his smirking face. In the other hand, a droid popper was cradled with great care. Rex could identify it as one of those droid poppers that that mechanic Fives was so smitten with had been designing alongside the General. Their power doubled and they covered far more square footage.  The Captain supposed it had finally been time to test it in action and it could not have arrived at a better time.

“Nice timing General!” Hardcase laughed, voicing Rex’s very thoughts. He could only chuckle along at the flair of his Jedi, vaguely aware of the figure who had shielded themselves besides him during the blast, now standing to their full height. They took a step forward out of the safety the shelter provided and the blonde clone began to ponder if this civilian had a death wish. Although there were no current threats, that did not guarantee that another wave of clankers was not on its way.

“Skywalker, you trying to blow my cover?” A woman’s voice called out from beneath the cloak and Rex’s mouth opened a gap, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Pssh, please (Y/L/N)!” General Skywalker grinned jumping down from the assault tank. “I’m just trying to liven up this battle!”

The two walked towards each other as Rex stayed in his position, embarrassment transforming his limbs into solid blocks of ice, rendering him motionless. The last name General Skywalker spoke doing so to the flustered Captain of the 501st.

“You mean you wanted to make an entrance?” The General rolled his eyes and ignored the question, instead turning to his troops, who all watched the peculiar scene before them.

“Men! This is General (Y/N) (Y/L/N), she along with the 481st have come to aid us!” Skywalker announced and shocked whispers spread across the brothers of the Torrent company like wildfire.

The hooded figure turned to the small group, the hood dropping to reveal you, the Jedi General the 501st and every other legion had heard so much about. The Jedi who was well revered by fellow officers and the Jedi Council at such a young age, who had the highest clone trooper survival rate only seconding to General Kenobi and General Koon, who along with the elite 481st legion had led separatists goons and their clankers to their ultimate destruction. Rex’s eyes watched you intently as you smiled brightly at his men and his chest seemed to constrict with an overwhelming amount of respect. Torrent company was in good hands.

“(Y/L/N) as in Dawnfire (Y/L/N)?” Echo spoke the names almost hushed, like they belonged to the legends told beneath the moonlight across the galaxy.

Removing his bucket, Echo approached the two Generals, an excitable grin consuming the face of the knowledgeable ARC trooper. The Dawnfire was a highly regarded Republic Cruiser, one that had yet to see defeat and was where many prototype weapons first saw daylight.

“Yes.” You nodded a low smirk forming on your lips. “It pays to not have an ongoing game of let’s see how many times you can damage your ship during a siege.” Your eyes traveled back over to your fellow Jedi, the man only offering you a sheepish grin and a light toss of the droid popper he still carried.

“Careful Anakin, wouldn’t want you to fry the circuits of your arm, again.” You teased and Anakin glared at you while Fives and Hardcase tried to cover their laughter with a fit of coughing.

“Anyways!” Anakin turned the conversation away from his beloved Resolute and his bad luck with his hand, gesturing to the ARC trooper. “This is Echo.”

You allowed for the change in topic, outstretching a hand to shake Echo’s firmly, “Nice to meet you Echo.”

“Likewise General.”

“I’m Fives!” The other ARC trooper jumped forward offering his hand as well as a half witted smirk.

You only chuckled, shaking his hand as well, “Nice to meet you too Fives!”

You greeted each man asking for their names, taking no assigned number as an answer, and leaving each trooper with a smile. A sweet haze clouded the minds of the 501st men as they watched the new General weave her way through the company. Your energy unlike anything the men had ever encountered.

With the guidance of General Skywalker, you were finally pointed back in the direction of the pile of debris Rex now stood patiently in front of, the same debris you had emerged from, “This is my first in command, Captain Rex.”

Your head pivoted to look at the mortified Captain, your comfortable smile stretching into a smirk.

“Oh I do believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

Your words did not attempt to hide your slyness and your eyes twinkled with a familiar mischievousness. Rex’s face warmed in abashment as he gripped the back of his covered neck, “Uh, sorry about that General.”

A light laugh slipped out from the Jedi who only shook her head, “Not a problem Rex, I’ll admit my civvies hide my true origin quite well.” As you dismissed his apology your free hand removed the tattered cloak concealing most of your figure revealing the familiar robes worn by the Jedi. Although a rich blue tunic served as a sharp contrast against the muted browns, brought out even more by the silver toned armor protecting your shoulders and torso.

Rex nodded silently, not trusting himself to be able to form a coherent sentence as his mind replayed the way his name had dripped from your lips with such liveliness. Through the tinted visor of his bucket all he could do was stare at you, the familiar weight of his blasters in his hands dissipated into nothing, the weight of the war slipping away for a moment. It was unfamiliar, especially to a man bred for war, but Rex could only surrender to it’s cosmic power.

“Speaking of, did you gather the intel?” Anakin's expression turned serious, his question slicing through the tension.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked away your own daze, face quickly mirroring Anakin’s.

“Got what I could.” Your opposite hand extended outward to reveal a data chip cradled in your gloved palm. “Damn seppies only had a select amount of outposts and droid factory locations stored, a smart move for once.”

Anakin sighed but gently took the chip from your hand, “It’s something.” You two shared a hesitant smile, bother eager for this war to be waged and won.

“Sorry to interrupt Generals but we’ve spotted incoming on the North side of the city.” Jesse cut in handing a pair of binocs over to his Captain. Rex pulled his gaze away from the Jedi to look through the binoculars to confirm that they had a cluster of droids closing in on their location just a few parsecs away on the other side of the bridge and already destroyed clankers, courtesy of General Skywalker and the brothers of the 501st.

“He’s right General, seem to be closing in quickly too.” At his confirmation, Rex felt another set of eyes on him but he could not surrender to them again so he held onto General Skywalker who nodded in response to his Captain.

“Thank you Jesse, Artoo!” Anakin called out for the notorious little blue droid that rarely ever left his side. A chorus of enthusiastic beeps were heard as the blue droid appeared out from behind his own shelter of rubble.

“Hey buddy, I need you to take this.” General Skywalker handed his astromech the data chip recovered by you for safekeeping and the small mechanical arm of Artoo’s took it happily.

“I already sent my commander a backup of the intel, just in case.” You added with a light shrug.

“Where is Commander Glitch?”

“Glitch is still on the Dawnfire, instructing the dispatched companies. We got fighters supporting in the aerial confrontation and there are two groups entering from the west and the south to converge on our location.”

Anakin’s eyes flickered over to Rex, both men sharing an impressed nod, the 481st already living up to their standards.

You moved past Anakin towards Artoo, eyes dancing between the incoming clankers and the droid, “I also believe you have something of mine, given to you by one of my men, Webs?”

Artoo chirped and his body shook a little, the small opening on the top of his domed head opening. Something long and narrow shooting out, followed shortly by another, you catching each item with a comfortable ease.

“Thanks Artoo, it’s good to see you too!”

Rex surveyed as you gripped the two identical black and silver lightsabers, fingers brushing against the smooth durasteel with a distinct intimacy that could only come from years spent mastering the use of the weapon. With a stroke of your fingers, the lightsabers ignited a bright blue and a sharp green.

“So,” You twirled the two lightsabers eyeing the marching battalion of droids, “how do you want to play this?”

Anakin was quiet for a moment before raising an eyebrow and that comfortable smirk of his fell onto his face, Rex was well acquainted with the face that made rash decisions. “Do you remember the negotiations on Lothal we were sent to supervise during our padawan days?”

You groaned, head falling back dramatically, it seemed you were familiarized with the General’s intriguing way of accomplishing things too. Your head rolled over onto your left shoulder to stare up at your longtime friend, “That maneuver will never work.”

As you spoke, a blast whirled by followed shortly by another and then another. The rain of fire quickly restoring the bridge to the battlefield it once was.

General Skywalker was hasty in reigniting his own saber, “We’ve got nothing to lose!”

“Oh, just our lives and perhaps the war!” Your words did not reach Anakin though as he took off running toward the awaiting battle, flanked by the rest of Torrent. A soft groan escaped your mouth before you turned to Rex, “You got my six Captain?”

He looked down ensnaring your eyes with his own, not that you would have known, and gave a curt nod.

“Always General.”

His words brought a bright smile to your face and Rex mimicked you from beneath the safety of his helmet, saving the sight and burning feeling inside for later when the shooting had seized and he could freely dissect what it was that he felt at this very moment.

With that the Captain of the 501st spun his blasters in his hands before the two of you raced into the war zone side by side.

Rex swallowed thickly, eyes scrunching close in an attempt to focus back on his current reality. His gloved hands were secured tightly around the sides of the ladder, one foot perched on the lowest step. Slowly he unfolded each finger wrapped around the bar, each finger crying out with an unbearable stiffness from the intensity of his restraint. The blonde clone groaned lowly as he flexed his cramped hands, amber eyes drifting around to catch sight of the Togruta watching him expectantly from the gunner seat in the Y Wing.

Rex quirked up an eyebrow, silently questioning what she was looking at him for, Ahsoka only letting out a small hum.

“I asked if you were okay.” She repeated, her voice soft and still uneasy as if the ground below her threatened to give out any moment. Her question made Rex inhale roughly, shaky coughs following as he recalled only hours ago when she had asked him the same question, when she had saved him, when he had shot his brothers to save her.

He attempted to clear his throat, hoping any remnants of the discomfort within would slip away as easy as the tickle in his throat. But he knew it was hopeless, the pain of the past, present, and the future made itself known with a biting sting in his heart. Something he knew would stay with him, perhaps until death, especially with the uncertainty that lied ahead of him. He never asked the Maker for much, but kriff did he hope you were okay.

Rex knew it would be useless to try and lie to his long time Commander and friend, so instead he stayed silent choosing to focus on climbing into the pilot seat.

Because Rex was not okay, he was far from it.

Ahsoka did not ask again, rather shifting the conversation to the one of dire importance.

“Do you know where they were?” Her voice cut through the speaker in the cockpit and Rex sighed, sinking into his seat, a hand roughly rubbing his brow in the privacy of the pilot seat. He did not want for her to accompany him on this trip, but it was hard to fight Ahsoka, she was too stubborn. Something she had no doubtedly gotten from -

Rex cut off the train of thought, banishing the name that formed in his thoughts. He was not ready for the possible grief that would follow, not until he knew of your fate. He could barely handle the searing hot anguish tearing him apart, he did not want to double it.

“Heading back from the outer rim sieges, last I heard…” Rex trailed off, eyes prickling with unshed tears.

“Commander huh? Commander Rex has a nice ring to it, but you’ll always be my Captain.”

It was the last he had heard from you, just before the ships had left for Mandalore. He had not heard your voice in far too many rotations and the slight buzz of the hologram had been enough to give him some peace of mind. You had told him that the 481st and you would be sent back to Coruscant soon for rest and refuel, secretly hoping that the stars would align and perhaps the two of you would arrive back home at the same time.

A hope he had shared.

Such ignorance…

Rex was grateful for the seat beneath him because Maker, he could not support himself, could not breathe at the thought of something happening to you. And with each settling minute, each heavily taken breath Rex could feel the unease settling into his soul, something was wrong.

He was not Force sensitive but he could feel it in the air, could taste it on his tongue. Something bad had happened. He just hoped the stars had not claimed you yet, taking back their fallen star that had slipped through their fingers and graced his existence. There had not been enough time, he needed more time.

Through the small speaker, a rhythmic tapping mixed with the electrical hum of life broke through the stale silence surrounding him and Rex sighed dragging a coarse glove over his face in an attempt to get rid of the dampness that had gathered.

A clone bred to not fall ill, to have endurance in the battlefield, to strategize an outcome to any problem, and keep up with the Jedi was not meant to be crumbling in despair.

But he was also a clone bred to be surrounded by death and Rex knew better than anyone that death did not discriminate. It always took the good ones.

“It seems that their last reported location was coming out of hyperspace in the Abrion sector.” Ahsoka’s voice cut into Rex’s gloom and the soldier abruptly stuffed his pain down, needing to focus on the task at hand. A feeble facade of the clone Captain he once was, was stretched thinly over a breaking man.  

“Abrion?” His eyebrows furrowed, “How do you know that?”

The static of the speaker died down, “ Um, hacked into the Cruiser's main datapad. Most sister ships share locations.”

Rex nodded slowly to himself, the Dawnfire and the Resolute did often work closely together along with the Negotiator. The three ships were often referred to as sisters because of it.

“Abrion.” He whispered to himself still confused. The Captain was well informed on many of the Star systems and it was why he was deeply perplexed. You were not supposed to be out there…

“That system is part of the Outer Rim territories, they were supposed to be well on their way unless… ” Rex trailed off staring blankly at the panels before him, his finger dragging slowly across the schematics of the Dawnfire projected onto the small screen.

“... unless you never made it that far.” His voice was no louder than a whisper, the terror welling up inside of him.

What was that last part?” Ahsoka questioned through the speaker. Rex was quiet as he casted one last glance out the viewport to the settling smoke of the cruiser and swallowed thickly, a silent goodbye shared between him and his lost brothers.

“Setting course for the Abrion system. Buckle up kid.”

Taglist: 

@000ayfh​ @questforgalas​ @kyjoraven​

[leo-culture-technology]

I don't really have anything specific in mind, I'm actually kinda lost as to what to look for jkjsksjk I know I identify with some traits, like sensory issues and difficulty communicating (I do have a diagnosis of social phobia, though I've been thinking maybe autism would better explain other aspects of my life beyond social interaction). I've been reading some articles regarding late discovering of autism and mostly looking for experiences, so I can compare to my own. I feel like I should be looking for something else but I don't really know what? lmao I don't think that was really helpful, anything you can share would be good to me

This is a really long post so I'm going to put it under a read more to not clog up other people's feeds but I think the main areas to cover are:

- verbal communication issues

was your vocabulary/reading ever under/over developed as a child? Having a really advanced vocabulary is just as much a sign of autism as having delayed development in this area. Also, having a very hard to pin down accent, or taking on others' accents Really easily is common amongst autistic people. Do you ever have trouble speaking? I experience selective mutism and when I'm overwhelmed/stressed/upset I often find it hard to speak out loud and have to communicate through messages/notes, though when I'm not mute I'm very eloquent and have always had a vocabulary that was advanced, other kids found it hard to talk to me when I was younger bc they couldn't understand me, but equally comprehension/vocabulary can be delayed/compromised and you might find it hard to understand others because you struggle with that sort of thing yourself. Do you have issues with your tone of voice ever? I find that I can't read my own tone of voice or my volume, some things will come out really bitchy-sounding or angry-sounding and I won't be able to tell, or I might be shouting and not know it because it all sounds the same in my head really.

- sensory issues

do you have issues with certain types of sound? volume? quantity? volume doesn't bother me, but too many different sources of noise will send me into a meltdown so fast. Do you struggle with certain smells, bright lights, tastes, textures of food or of clothing, certain sensations, for example I get really stressed out by having wet skin/hair, and I can't stand the sound/feeling of something rubbing over carpet. I also find some tastes to be overwhelming. Under-sensitivity or processing issues can also be a symptom. Do you ever struggle to process reading/listening to something? I have absolutely awful retention for auditory information, I can't hold more than around 4-5 words in my mind at any one time, and I can't follow auditory instructions at all if there's more than one step, it needs to be written down. I also often struggle to read things because I don't process the words and they just look like meaningless letters on a page to me. I also really struggle to process my own thoughts and order them, I'm able to talk out loud but there are times where I can't write my thoughts without speaking them first because ordering my thoughts while they're still inside my head is very difficult. I also have an under-sensitive sense of smell and taste at times. I can't even smell when meat has gone bad and everyone else I know says it really stinks, and like I can't tell the difference between chicken gravy and onion gravy, for example, because they taste almost identical to me. And senses aren't just the basic five, either. Do you have a particularly high OR low pain threshold? interoception is the perception of bodily functions. Do you have trouble identifying/noticing when you're hungry/thirsty or when you need to go to the toilet e.g. you didn't need to go pee a minute ago but now you're Suddenly absolutely bursting to go because you didn't notice it earlier at all. Proprioception is your perception of your movements, balance and of where your limbs are in relation to your surroundings. Do you bump into things or fall over seemingly nothing a lot? Have you ever been told/noticed you move "strangely"? Do you ever walk sort of on your tiptoes or toes-first rather than heels-first?

- social issues

do you have trouble reading body language? facial expressions? figurative language? tone of voice? not every autistic person will experience all of the above, I know people who can't read body language but can read tone of voice, or can't read figurative language but can read facial expressions, etc. etc. Personally I struggle with tone of voice a lot, I can't tell when people are being serious or not, or whether they're upset or not, tone of voice doesn't really tell me anything about how they're feeling of what they mean. Figurative language varies, I understand metaphors and I often understand sarcasm, although I won't get it if it's too deadpan, and I sometimes miss hyperbole and think people are being serious. I also can't tell whether people are teasing me or genuinely being mean the vast majority of the time. I tend to rely on speech patterns and word choice a lot to understand people, personally. I pick up on what sorts of words they use in what moods and use that largely to inform my interpretations of their current mood based on the words they're choosing. Do you ever struggle understanding what is/isn't socially appropriate? I overshare a lot bc I don't rlly understand what is "too much information" and what isn't, and I also don't understand really how to treat people differently based on their "social role", like I treat someone like a friend regardless of whether they're a stranger, a classmate, a friend, a family member, a colleague, a boss, a teacher, etc.

- need for routine/dislike of sudden/significant change

this isn't always as clear as like needing an entire day to be a routine, it can be little things. I'll give some examples: I have to brush my teeth in a specific way - I count the number of passes of the brush over each section of my teeth, I have to eat a sandwich in a specific order of bites, many food places I will order the same thing every/nearly every time and I will eat that order in the same way, I wash my body/hair in a certain way/order in the shower every time, sometimes I get weirdly obsessed with symmetry and I have to walk in a certain way and if I step "wrong" I have to hop around on one leg until I feel "balanced" again, I have to do my daily tasks on genshin impact in a certain order, etc. etc. I could probably think of more if I tried. I will often get distressed/overwhelmed/upset if any of these "routines" are disrupted somehow. My original method of eating a sandwich applied to when they're cut across into rectangles, so I used to hate eating triangle sandwiches because I couldn't eat them "correctly" until I figured out a similar way to eat triangle sandwiches, and now I Have to eat them in that way because it's "correct" and I'll feel uncomfortable otherwise. Note that this isn't like OCD because it's not anxiety-based, it's based on the fact that it feels like the "correct" way to do it, and that any other way is simply "wrong" and you don't like doing it "wrong". The need for routine and dislike of change might also manifest in needing to plan things ahead days in advance, you also might be like me and be very capable of impulsively doing things like going out if You decide to do it, but if someone Else suggests it, then you need the preparation time. - stimming/special interests

stimming can be honestly anything. I tap my foot, I sing, I have a whole folder names "stim games" on my phone, I type, I eat, I chew gum, I flap my arms, I scratch fabrics, I smell blankets/clothing. Stimming just means self-stimulation and is absolutely any repeated action that you find soothing/cathartic in any way. Under here I'm also going to mention samefoods: foods that you feel comfortable eating even when you don't feel comfortable eating anything else. Like if too much flavour/smell/texture feels overwhelming, most autistic people will have food/s that aren't at all stressful to eat and they can default to at those times. Mine is a specific brand of chicken nuggets, I'll often fall back on those when eating anything else feels overwhelming but I need to eat Something, and I can usually handle those when I can't handle other things.

as for special interests, they are anything that you're kind of obsessed with. You can have multiple, they can change over your life, but your interest tends to go much deeper than that of a neurotypical person's and you feel a need to know everything about it and struggle to hold conversations about other topics because it kind of just takes over your brain. when I was younger some of my special interests were final fantasy, anime, hello kitty, languages/linguistics has always been a special interest of mine, kpop is definitely one, astrology is also for sure one. I fall in and out of being obsessed enough with genshin to call it a special interest. I had a friend in highschool whose special interest was the periodic table, for a while they were obsessed with the 8 times table, and then it became dinosaurs. My little brother is autistic and his special interest has always been video games, he's really interested in retro games, he loves Minecraft and Mario too, when he was younger it was ben 10 for a while, there was also a period where all he wanted to do as a kid was rewatch the cars movies. Media likes to portray special interests as being academic but they can truly be absolutely anything. A desire to know absolutely everything about trains or flowers or kpop is just as much a special interest as neurology or maths or physics or smth like that.

Another thing I've just thought of to be noted, is hygiene:

some autistic people might appear to have borderline OCD tendencies where they can't handle dirt/mess and need everything to be tidy/clean all the time. This is definitely one of the stereotypes. But struggling with hygiene is just as much a symptom of autism. If you struggle to remember to shower/wash hands/brush teeth/do laundry/etc. that could well be an autism symptom. I found out I'm sensitive to mint and especially to toothpaste, it makes my mouth feel like it's burning and like I'll actually cry if it touches my tongue bc it hurts that much lmao. I discovered a toothpaste that's unflavoured and doesn't foam up and now I can brush my teeth without pain but for a long time I struggled with consistently brushing teeth bc of that. I also struggle with showering bc of being stressed out by wet hair/skin. Sometimes it's also a memory thing, and I forget to do these things. I also absolutely suck at keeping my room clean, idk why I just Really Can't lmaoooooo

I'm certain there are things I haven't covered, these are mostly pulling from my own experiences of autism from myself and those around me. All of this might apply to you, it might not, but I hope it makes sense and has given you a good starting point of things to examine within yourself and questions to ask yourself <3 I wish you well bub and please always feel free to ask more questions and/or talk to me more about your experiences <3

[spirit-of-vengeance]

@spxcemuses @mr-mansnoozie @xxstar-bluesxx

Guess who gathered enough mind to finally write her full backstory of Western Verse. Her being a bounty hunter is set in the Wild West time period (1865-1895), there is no current year(s) to set her story in mainly because I don't want to make a mistake messing up the timeline.

Calm before the storm

Her father, Attila a lesser Hungarian noble whom supported the 1848-1849 revolutionary war but after the failure of it he escaped emigrated to America to avoid the Habsburg revenge, soon followed by his brother Gábor. He could save a small amount of his fortune along with his two most important horses: a purebred Lipizzan stallion and an extremely rare Akhal Teke mare. He had settled near a small town, due to his financial situation and education as a noble he established a school with the support and approval of the local church. To quieten his guilt for abandoning his country in its peril, he poured all of his heart into educating children; at least he is still useful in some way.

One day, a group of artists traveling artists, acrobats traveled through the town and the aristocrat fell in love at first sight. She was like the queen of fairy from the folk tales he'd heard in his childhood, she was tall, blue eyes sparkled like light sapphire, long golden brown hair floated ethereally with every twirl. The smitten lord shamelessly courted the the graceful acrobat, determined to know at least the name.

The group had stayed in the town for a few weeks, allowing Attila's and Myra's romance to blossom; after a month she ended up staying with him, just like in true fairytales.

My obsession with angst backstory strikes again

The lord was in love, deeper than poets could express it. Since the loss of his home and country he had found his place in the universe along with the perfect companion by his side. He paid less attention to the school, the church and other public affairs; it wasn't like he abandoned them but became more withdrawn to spend time with the love of his life, especially after the birth of their daughter. She was almost the perfect miniature of her mother, same beautiful hair glinting gold in the sunlight, only her eyes were the brightest emerald green he'd ever seen.

While Myra's heart and aura was as pure as a fairy's; the local church was beyond distressed. They claimed that Attila had completely abandoned helping those in need because of her wicked seduction. When they witnessed her performing for the amusement of the crowd, the 'temptress witch' brand couldn't be lifted. They gathered a few enthusiastic townsfolk whom shared their views and a few morally questionable men whom only wanted a piece of the lord's fortune.

10 year old Karma was awakened from her deep slumber by her frantic father; smoke and yelling blinding her senses as he carried her out of the burning house into the nearby forest so the mob won't find her. He promised her he will be back but he had to return into their home for Myra; he couldn't leave her inside. Karma watched her dad disappear into the flames, the air filled with suffocating smoke and religious shouts for god to smite the sinners. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the spot where her father was gone, waiting for her parents to stumble out of the half collapsed building; but that never had happened. She sat unmoving from her spot, struck staring into the flames then into the ashes as the sun has risen.

Birth of the marksman

Attila's brother, Gábor arrived the next day after hearing the news, he was the one whom found Karma still staring at the ruins in a catatonic state. He couldn't avenge his sibling as it meant endangering his niece and she has lost more than enough.

Gábor expected her to become a soft spoken, reserved lady once she overcame her trauma; that theory was soon abandoned when once he had awoken to his niece practicing with his rifle outside with frighteningly great accuracy. The young girl naturally had an extraordinary aim and after a few long talks, he'd seen the determination burning in her to avenge the murder of her parents. Given by her mother's dance lessons, she was also flexible and capable of many different acrobatic moves; this combined with her aim proven to be a very dangerous combination.

To not awaken suspicion he told his friends Karma was an orphan whose parents were killed by bandits and he had adopted her to give her a family and education. Karma was fascinated chasing greater heights of her skills, this involved reading every possible book about anatomy, marking, engraving the useful spots of the body. Karma knows where to shoot to disarm, to cause a slow death, to paralyze, to disable for life and when it is only a warning: an injury which will heal with time. Along with her accuracy, her drawing speed only can be compared to lightning. Although she prefers/most comfortable with her dual revolvers (model undecided yet), she is still a menace with shotguns, rifles, flintlocks and even bows due to Gàbor's 'A Hungarian is not a Hungarian if they can't use a bow' mindset.

The bounty hunter quicker than death

Karma had her first official gunfight at the age of 18 on the auction. for Vihar (Storm), the filly of her father's horses.

Detailed post about Vihar

She officially entered the bounty hunter business when she was 20 and Vihar was 2, aiming for the most dangerous criminals whom committed the worst acts possible. In her early years after the kill she slit open corpses she trying to find the bullet, surverying the damage it caused and adding filler information to her anatomy knowledge. Of course she didn’t bother burying the bodies, she knew as a woman she has to be extremely vicious above talented to be hired and mutilated dead bodies did send a great message & served as cement for building her reputation. The name Karma wasn't entirely her idea, many thankful family members claimed that karma has came for their loved ones' murderers. Her talent spread like wildfire among the men of law, glad to be rid of the dangerous scum; with careful planning, use of environment and Vihar as backup she had wiped out gangs, not solely focused on individuals.

Unfortunately her reputation summoned an unofficial grand price on her head as well in certain circles; they had tracked her back to her uncle's house. The battle claimed Gábor's life and nearly her sight as her right eye was almost slashed out. The new loss opened old wounds: her not being able to protect her loved ones. She couldn't look into a mirror, the scar a reminder how despite all years of training she wasn't untouchable; after burying her uncle plan to gain control over her psyche already formed.

She took a knife and carefully carved four half circles around her eye to form a crosshair with her pupil being the middle of it. She made sure she kept the wounds open for enough time to scar as visibly as the vertical cut; she wanted a symbol to add to her legend. Excuse my pathetic excuse of an edit, I'm not good in this, nor I can draw.

Now Karma is 25, Vihar is 6, both of them in their peak physical prime; the name Vihar is also symbolic a little, Karma is the lightning to her horse. She is dancing on the thin edge of bounty hunting and being an outlaw as she often takes...side jobs to help people who deserve it and usually that person doesn't have a bounty on their head, therefore it is technically murder.

Local antisocial feral monk & cocky gunslinger feral lady / addition of the AU with the amazing @mr-mansnoozie

Near her uncle's house, Karma had discovered a cave and a grumpy mute monk living in it along with his pet bear. The monk, Sandy eventually became a second uncle to the traumatized angry orphan, he taught her how to move & creep upon someone soundlessly, disappear without a trace, cover her stances and behavior patterns of various animals. Before and after returning from a job she always visits her uncle of choice for a chat; a silent way to prepare him to the possibility of her not coming back. But she always do. She considers Sandy as part of her tiny family, although his...copying mechanisms with his own traumas were a bit strange to get used to; she adapted quite fast, after all who is she to judge with a past like that?

I'm a dead man walking, Hell's at my door.

aka collection of small headcanons

🎯 Her dual revolvers are called Salvation and Damnation because she's dramatic

🎯 Karma has a small sketchbook filled with anatomy drawings for further practice.

🎯 She actually can sing, but rarely does, only to Vihar since she never received positive feedback on it. Her voice is gritty, rugged and deep; definitely not the usual and desired sounding from a woman.

🎯 If her target was an outstandingly cruel bastard and/or one of those whom killed her parents she uses a little psychological torture. After fatally wounding them she starts whistling (for the most terrifying experience wear headphones & close your eyes while listening) as they try to crawl away or beg for mercy. The first time the whistle gets shrill & more intense is when she lazily reloads, knowing she has both the time and the upper hand. The second pace shift is when she aims; she shoots during the last, long drawn out high note.

🎯 This is her only verse where Cindy is afraid, no terrified of fire; during her....26 AU's she's always been associated with fire despite dying in or being wounded by it. In this verse she is more tied to lightning, the scent of smoke is enough to send her into a silent panic attack and despite loathing the cold she will never sit close to the fireplace. Her other deep fears include injuring her hands & sight and losing Vihar. Her horse is the only remaining family member of hers, she can't fail her too.

🎯 Most of Karma's scars, injuries are a result of her standing between Vihar and a knife/bullet/ even a bullwhip when a criminal was smart enough to catch on their deep emotional bond.

🎯 She has recurring night terrors about the night her parents died, she always wakes up in cold sweat; she's sort of used to them. Though, sometimes she still cries but thankfully Vihar is there to comfort her.

🎯 Karma has a special morning stretch routine to keep her flexibility and warm up her hands & keep them steady and fast.

🎯 Due to her dad and uncle she received high quality education

🎯 For the untrained eye, the belt of her hat are simple crosses while in reality, they are inverted crosses to symbolize her stance with Christianity

🎯 Karma's middle name is Emerald, given by her father due to her eye color.

🎯 Karma was first inspired by League of Legends Miss Fortune because that name alone is great but unfortunately she is too pirate coded for a western so I abandoned the relation. Though when Karma is not being the 'Call me a slow reader but I only made it to the Dead part, the or Alive didn't register.' ; her personality is similar to hers.

🎯 Due to her dad, Karma is actually half aristocrat. Not like she cares about it the slightest; the only indication of noble blood is her idle stance. It is an unconscious mirror of how her father used to hold himself: back straightened to almost impossible point, left arm behind it, right hand resting on the grip of in her case, revolver instead of hilt of a sword.

🎯 If given the chance to live a normal life, she would've grown into a captivating, lively young woman, much like her mother but with the aristocrat elegance of her father; finding a suitor who lives up to her parents' and her standards would've been the challenge of the century.

🎯 Her special move is called Dance of Death. This is used as last resort when she's facing more opponents up to 12, as with her dual revolvers she has 12 bullets without reloading. She mentally marks the stances of all opponents, predicts their movement, firing order and possible way of their bullets before whirling out of her hiding place. Each pose minimizes the chance of getting shot, and with each change of movement two bullets are fired, two men drop dead.

🎯 Her accuracy isn't just 'gun goes boom >:D' but a combination of natural talent, endless practice, movement prediction, sharp, quick thinking & analytical skills and different techniques molten together to utilize them all at once

🎯 Her hair is now as long as her mother's, she always keeps it in a single tight braid to keep it out of the way; without her hat and hair down she actually loses some of her dangerous edge.

🎯 The only physical memory Karma has of her parents is her dad's hussar sword she found underneath the ruins of the house, it was protected by a very thick wooden box & a lock of her mother's hair is tied to the grip. She has hidden it in the nearby forest, her thoughts often wander to it along with the wish to wield it.

[nice-kill-tanaka]

Hi! I read all your x readers and love them! I especially loved the Bakugou x Rough and Tough Crush, I was wondering if you do a part 2 of that one? Where the squad are trying to get the two together.

Of course Nony! Glad you liked my self indulgent work 🥰

—————

🌄Bakugo + Rough And Tough Crush: Part 2🌌

Looking for the whole set? Take Part 1 right here!

Summary: The Bakusquad gets a little sick of watching you and Bakugo pine after each other in your own...special ways. So, it was decided to devise a plan to get you two crazy kids together!!

A/N: Me, internally: First request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up, first request, don’t mess it up-

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💥Katsuki Bakugo💥

Let’s start by looking at your end of the pining stick

When Bakugo started treating you differently (like an equal/rival rather than a hurdle to trample on) your own perspective started to shift

You now knew what it was like to be on Boom Boom Boy’s good side. And if you were being honest? It was fun as hell 🔥🔥

Nothing got under your skin very easily, so you took Bakugo’s aggressive taunts and jeers as petty opportunities to take him up on his challenges

What’s better than a free chance to get stronger??? (Mentally, emotionally, and physically)

It wasn’t very long before you began to find Bakugo’s unwavering passion and drive attractive rather than amusing. You wanted to see more of it, to draw it out, to match it

That wild and determined smirk he used past bared teeth when you bested him would really make you feel some type of way 😳

But Y/N is currently a single-brain-celled bastard in this household

My dude, you don’t even misinterpret your feelings. You're just incapable of giving them a label 😭

You just know that you have warm and fuzzy sensations in your stomach whenever Bakugo is being uniquely himself, which you mistook for indigestion on multiple occasions

Y’all are so freaking dumb it actually hurts 😭😭😭

((^^The Bakusquad’s general consensus on you and Bakugo’s mutual pining))

Which brings us to how the Bakusquad decided to go about bringing you hotheaded lovers together

Kirishima casually suggested that they let you two get together on your own, but was out-voted in favor of putting an end to the infinite frustration that came with watching two people crushing on each other and not doing anything about it

Mina and Jiro thought of the first plan:

They’d have a movie night for everyone in the friend group and Mina would conveniently choose a ✨romance✨ movie. The rest on the squad would think of lame excuses to leave in the middle of the film, leaving only you and Bakugo alone (hopefully on the same couch). If things went well, you two would be together by the end of the movie

Their reasoning was that if the concept of romance was introduced at the right time, you’d both feel more inclined to confess your own feelings 

It seemed feasible enough, so the plan was set into motion

As expected, the moment Mina pulled out the Blue-Ray box, Bakugo started to grumble about how corny the film was gonna be

But, Jiro caught a glimpse of you leaning over and muttering something to Bakugo, out of earshot of everyone else

Immediately, Bakugo began to loosen his shoulders, still not happy about the genre, but more complacent. He slouched into the couch and endured it like an adult

During the movie, especially the more romantic moments, the squad constantly stole glances towards you and Bakugo. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to look at

Bakugo, in the same position as the beginning, didn’t seem bored, but like he’d rather be doing anything else at the moment. His eyes were glued to the screen in a judgmental stare, but that he dared not say anything to ruin a certain person’s experience

You, however, looked like you were enjoying the movie! However muted your position might have looked. Though you weren’t enjoying it cause it was good. Oh no, you looked like you wanted to ✨a s c e n d✨ into orbit with laughter every ten seconds

For the sake of letting the rest of the Bakusquad enjoy the romance aspect, you limited your actions to biting your fist whenever something hopelessly cringy happened

Any longer than the halfway point, and you would’ve broken down in a fit of hysterical laughter, roasts, and jeers at the screen

Soon enough, the rest of the group made their excuses to leave the room momentarily, disappointed with their results

But, when they came back, something beautiful had occurred 

“Why the hell is she running back to the apartment?? HE CHEATED ON YOU?? KILL ‘IM??”

“SKSKSKS- Okay, but wtf is her FACE?! Is that supposed to be distress?? Freakin’ ahegao faceass.”

Bakugo was deadpan roasting the movie with an amused smirk. While you were coming after it with the gusto of Monoma coming after 1-A, snorting with every comment Bakugo made

Neither of you had even noticed everyone else come into the room

(Apparently, you had told Bakugo earlier that you two can shit on the movie all you wanted once you were alone)

Alright...not exactly the plan. But, possibly a step in the right direction

Sero and Kaminari thought of the next “plan”

I only put quotations, because it’s hardly thought out enough to call it one

It was literally just locking you and Bakugo in a closet 🤡🤡

Don’t worry Sero and Kaminari, I’ll play Taps at your funerals 🎺🎺🎺

You and Bakugo didn’t even have a genuine conversation in the closet...You were too busy yelling various profanities at your friends

“Dude, it’s really FUCKING HOT in here. Let us out while I’m still feeling nice!!”

“I’ll murder you bastards when we get out of here!!! You better start running now.”

Btw, you both ended up making it out of there on your own

You managed to deck the doorknob hard enough to break it off, giving Bakugo enough leeway to blow the door off its hinges

Bakugo took care of Kaminari, while you caught and hogtied Sero with his own tape 

You gave each other congratulatory fist bumps afterwards 😚

Despite the rest of the Bakusquad miserably failing in their schemes, their setups did help develop you and Bakugo’s relationship. Just not as fast as they hoped

You had become a pair that could laugh and fight together. Being each other’s advocate became a source of pride for you both

You were all set to become a romantic couple 

But, what actually brings you together??

Well, it went something like this:

I’m not too sure of the exact details, but I know that you and Bakugo were having an extra intense training session

Things were starting to get a bit sloppy, as your bodies were getting tired, but your morale was just as strong as ever

It could’ve just been a freak accident, or something neither of you saw coming

But, the point is: Either of you could’ve gotten really hurt, had you not been the tough cookies you are

In your perspective, you were oblivious to the danger that you had been in. And if you did know, you didn’t particularly care. You only saw that the person you cared about most in U.A. could’ve gotten hurt

The idea of that happening, and it being your fault (or, not being able to do anything about it) really rubbed you the wrong way. You were mostly angry at yourself

But, you took it out on Bakugo

Because you were the first aggressor, Bakugo responded with what he knew best: Aggression

Yes, he was absolutely mad at himself for putting you in danger. But, what made the feeling worse, was that you refused to acknowledge that you could’ve been injured as well

Your blatant lack of self-preservation pissed him off. Why couldn’t you care about yourself the way he cared about you?!

On the outside looking in, the fighting was far too intense for any peer of yours to try and break it up

Yelling, cursing, but neither of you put your hands on each other (Like you usually did when you play fought)

Strangely enough, I think that’s how you could tell the situation was serious

Finally, your emotions had reached their climax. All caution had gone to the wind at that point

You weren’t even thinking when you yelled the next thing in Bakugo’s face

“DO YOU THINK I’D FUCKING YELL AT YOU IF YOU DIDN’T MEAN THE GODDAMN WORLD TO ME?!”

“WELL FUCK YOU IF YOU THINK THAT YOU’RE ANY LESS IMPORTANT TO ME THAN I AM TO YOU.”

At that moment, you both turned away to storm off before abruptly stopping in your tracks

“What?!” You said in unison, registering what you both had heard and said

You sighed, frustrated at your own stupidity, unclenching your fists and begrudgingly explaining your true feelings to the seething object of your affections

As you spoke, you were realizing just how whipped you were for Bakugo. And how you didn’t know it until you were given the opportunity to blurt it out with pure emotion

Your words weren’t very poetic (You actually sounded very constipated), but what you said was what you felt in its rawest form

Bakugo could hardly think of what to do next. His crush was reciprocated and they confessed first??? Wtf???

His silence made you uncomfortable, and you didn’t feel like blowing up again. You huffed, shoved your hands in your pockets, and turned to stalk away, unsure of what to do next

Before you could completely turn on your heel though, you felt yourself being roughly shoved against a nearby wall

You weren’t even given time to react, because as soon as your back made contact with the wall, a warm, caramel-scented sensation met your lips

The kiss you had just registered didn’t even last two seconds, but the lingering feeling stuck with you as your brain effectively shorted out

“Yo, wh-what was that??”

Bakugo was impossibly red, one hand still on your shoulder, keeping you in place. Even though he refused to make eye contact with you, it was clear that what he had just done was completely intentional

He scoffed, voice barely above a grumble, “Damn dumbass...you didn’t even give me a chance to respond...”

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[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one set of headcanons for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

[aiden-png]

Heyy, is there any way for you to possibly share your planning/outlining process? I’m having a lot of trouble myself figuring out how to write my fic, it’s all just out of order and all over the place, and I feel like knowing what you do might help a bit

omg sure!! I know how to outline a few different ways and jump between the methods depending on the story, length, and how much planning is actually needed to achieve my goal. I don’t typically outline unless I’m setting out to write something over 20k words or I have an idea that relies on a series of interconnected scenes (like a 5+1 for instance)! I’ll continue below the cut...

when I’m ‘outlining’ for a multichapter fic below 20k, my notes are pretty simple and typically look like this (example from “5 Times Wild Did Something Wild”): -collecting bomb arrows while it’s raining -electrocuting a group of enemies during a lightning storm -deflecting guardian lasers with his shield/cryo-launching a guardian and sniping it midair -riding a Lynel and killing it from close range* -setting up a trap and killing a Yiga in disguise elaborately* -getting stabbed/shot and pulling the weapon out of himself to finish the fight

these ‘bullet outlines’ are really good for laying out scenes, story beats, or chapter summaries for multichapter fics. when I write a short oneshot however, my notes are 1-5 sentences that summarize the entire plot or the prompt, and I add more notes if necessary when I sit down to start writing. for example, the prompt outline for “Hero Through the Ages” was this: Wild is reverted back to a child and everyone expects him to be rowdy and impossible. Instead he’s entirely mute, very stoic, extremely well versed in swordsmanship, and acts like he’s a knight.

however, when I’m outlining a longggg multichapter fic, I have two methods I really enjoy using and tend to pair them together. first is the summary method, where I write out an overview of what I want the story to be like in paragraph form. it ends up looking like a Wikipedia summary for a book or film when it’s done, but the reason I like this method is because it allows me to brainstorm on the page and develop my ideas where I can reference them again. these methods are supposed to be rough at first and get developed further later, so the next two examples are plans for a fic that ultimately went in slightly different directions by the end! here’s the beginnings of a paragraph outline for my BotW fic “A Major Test of Strength”: Link has been training for a few weeks since defeating Vah Naboris so he has all the supplies and strength he needs to take on Calamity Ganon. He learns of a Spring of Wisdom (or smth actually not in canon) that is said to have healing/restorative properties and it’s suggested that he travel there to try and regain the last of his memories. Sidon decides to tag along to help/see if he can finally work up the courage to confess his feelings to Link. When they get there Link not only gets his memories of this life, but of all other timelines restored at once along with his abilities. Every Champion had a power, and Link always thought the swordsman didn’t. It suddenly makes sense why everyone has believed in him without question since he awoke: Link is the strongest Champion, and he’s just now reached his full potential. Before Link can begin to train his new powers the Yiga stage a plot 100 years in the making, putting Link, Sidon, and the whole of Hyrule in danger. Link has a time limit to face Ganon before the barrier breaks now, and he’ll need all the help he can get to make it there in time.

from the paragraph-style outline I can make a scene-by-scene or chapter-by-chapter (or even act-by-act) outline which is the second method I like, though I have a hard time writing things I know the endings of. I typically outline as I go after the midpoint of a fic so I don’t lose interest, and will place filler estimates for how many chapters will be in the climax and resolution. working from story beats in this case is a lot easier for me, so I’ll make a bullet list where I describe the exposition in quite a bit of detail, summarize to the midpoint, more briefly summarize to the climax, and then stop outlining. it looks sort of like this (same fic as above): 1- Link hears about a Shrine* that is said to help connect those to their past or smth and it’s in the Laynaryu Mountains. He decides to go for it, as he’s still missing a lot of his memory (he’s not super distressed by this, he knows himself and he’s content, he has more important things to handle, but he hopes that the final piece in his puzzle may help him defeat Ganon). He travels to Zora and Sidon insists on traveling with him, it’s not far after all 2- they travel to the location and become close along the way 3- when they arrive the place is surprising and Link emerges from the Shrine with far more than he expected. A Yiga had tailed them, and upon seeing Link’s powers, quickly teleports back to their base 4- Link spends some time training to grasp his new powers and finds himself drawn to Sidon more and more. The Yiga commune with Ganon 5- the Yiga stage an ambush on Link as he travels, kidnapping him and Sidon. The Yiga preform a ritual in front of Hyrule Castle where Link was knighted at the blood moon to rend Link of his powers and Sidon rescues him too late, the Yiga and any information they had disappearing 6- Link and Sidon travel to visit the Great Deku Tree as Link looses his strength, hoping to reverse the spell 7- Link and Sidon make it at the last minute and are shown the secret location of the Temple of Time, where Link completes the ritual, and is sent back in time to before the kidnapping so he can continue his training 8- Link prevents Sidon from being kidnapped with past Link and they journey to Satori Mountain to stakeout the ritual site so they can disrupt the ritual before it’s too late. they talk and share secrets and both realize how they feel 9- Link and Sidon successfully intervene and the two timelines collapse, merging, until Link awakes in the Temple of Time in a fixed timeline with the triforce and knowledge of his powers and his love for Sidon. He confesses instantly 10- epilogue? Link and Sidon share a peaceful day months after calamity ganon’s defeat, Link training future soldiers and running errands for citizens of Hyrule while effectively retired, Sidon and him officially courting, and everything right in the world

there are a lot of different outlining strategies beyond these that you can use too! there’s a flashcard one, where you write out important events and scenes on cards and organize them in whatever timeline you feel works best. there’s the in depth outline, where you summarize the scenes and events in every chapter from beginning to end (this one helps a lot with keeping consistent chapter lengths and maintaining plot threads). when I use an outline, to make sure I don’t forget what I’m supposed to be writing for each chapter, I’ll write myself notes at the end of the doc that I can glance at as I’m typing. I’ve also used the editing method, where I’ll read and edit the previous writing session before starting the current one so I don’t lose track of where I was. when writing a long piece, it can be helpful to stop in the middle of a scene that excites you, so you have the motivation to return later to finish it! it also works well to finish an entire scene or chapter before stopping so you don’t have to read back to start writing again, but since I tend to write every single day until a fic is finished I don’t have a lot of issues picking back up where I left off.

just remember, the outline is only a tool for you to use! it’s not set in stone, it doesn’t have to be neat or completed--the only thing that matters is that it helps you better write your piece. it’s perfectly fine to diverge from the outline when writing, or to edit it as you go! and outlining definitely isn’t for everyone, I rarely use one because I feel it limits my own creativity in some regards. flying by the seat of your pants when you write is a perfectly valid method too, so stick with what makes you comfortable and what works for your style--and remember to have fun! I hope this helped answer your question! :D

[kdtheghostwriter]

SNK 4-Pack

Just to avoid any confusion, yup, it’s just what it says on the tin. I’ve gathered my thoughts on four chapters here. A combination of IRL obligations, lifestyle and equipment changes all of which has been more or less rectified. For now lol. To those who reached in the past months, I appreciate the thought. Apologies for keeping you waiting. Accept this humble offering and enjoy the new chapter release.

123 - Turn Me Loose

We’re in a very distressing place both in-story and IRL. So here:

It’s Mikasa’s first taste of ice cream. Feel better? Cool. Now let’s talk about the end of the world, pls.

 I’ll get the obvious out of the way first. Just what did you think The Usurper meant when he said [checks notes] “I’m going to put an end to this world?” This isn’t Sword Art Online. He wasn’t talking about a virtual world. It’s closer to the SpongeBob bit where Squidward runs into his place of work to exclaim that robots have taken over the world, before he clarifies “Our world!” Paradis was merely a blip on the radar before the Royal Family lost the Coordinate. It was fun at first to rattle their cage and watch them war with eachother. Now the war is about to leave the shores of the Island and no one is laughing.

I don’t have much to say about this development in particular because I predicted it nearly one year ago. No one wanted to hear it, but I said to any ear that listened: if Eren is going to play the Bad Guy, he needs to be the Bad Guy. You can go back and read it. I said Eren Jaeger will be the new villain of the story. Well, there’s a word we use for the person who wants to exterminate all life on Earth and it’s not Samaritan.

But for every villain, a foil must rise. Reiner is the easy choice here. Not the wrong one, but easy and predictable. Eren and Reiner have been intersecting since the 104th squad’s first expedition. When Eren could have hidden during Marley’s 11th hour raid of Paradis, he chose to confront Reiner and expose himself for the sake of a fight he knew he would not lose. This is why I don’t have Reiner in this role. Reiner’s role is what we all thought Eren’s was up until Chapter 120 or so. He is Lady Fate’s whipping boy. Beating him down again and again while calling him and dummy for trying to resist against his lot in life. If Reiner steps to Eren this time, it will be more than just humiliation awaiting him. Yes, it’s still Mikasa. I doubt Eren’s plan (whatever the full scope of it is) can even be stopped but if it can she is the one to do it. It can only help that she has the God of Destruction on her side.

 Getting ahead of myself, though. We have the famous confrontation to speak on. You know the one.

I understand the sentiment by Eren here but he was never going to get an accurate answer. At least not immediately. The poor girl is shocked. She’s been interrogated time and again about her loyalty to Eren and what exactly it means. The one person who has never questioned her further is the man himself. One can imagine how long he’s sat on this inquiry. He knew what he had to do. No answer she gave would have diverted his path, but maybe he wanted one last thing to feel good about before he doomed the world.

Either way, the team runs in to interrupt them like some teen movie and they all proceed to get drunk with the family of the Middle Eastern boy they aided earlier. Ever since this type of story analysis was popularized online (and especially on YouTube) people have fallen into the habit of using the word “filler” without knowing what the word means.

 Because we are consuming this series week by week and because Eren’s descent into arch-villainy has lasted well over a year at this point this current disaster really does feel like it would in real life. A long, brutal decline with only one outcome and no way to stop it. This chapter was a palette cleanser after months of endless despair. If you can remember there was indeed a time where everyone was friends and Eren wasn’t trying to KILL THE WORLD. This chapter was a reminder of that. The faintest light shines brightest in total darkness. That light is what Mikasa is doing her best to hold onto.

  124 - All Falls Down

The most interesting part of this chapter, which is largely set-up, is Jean’s assessment of the situation from his perch on a rooftop. It’s muted and resolute. The usual emotion is missing entirely. The fire is gone as he accepts the world’s creeping fate. The story’s most morally consistent character is seen trying to work out the thought process behind ending the world. They’re our enemies. They were going to attack us eventually. We were sitting ducks. Maybe this was always going to happen. His last observation is less rhetorical. In order to protect his friends, Eren has sacrificed the entire world. This includes the Subjects of Ymir who all received Eren’s message from the last chapter.

No time to contemplate that horror with the fresh hell of Zeke’s titanized victims running wild in Shiganshina which sounds mighty familiar. There’s a poignant scene that follows of the 104th cutting down their fellow soldiers, many of whom helped train them. It shows how far they’ve come and the overall affect their adventures have had on them that they are able to destroy their comrades without hesitation.

Ah! But this is SnK after all. The horrors are often double stacked. The time has come to decide which titan Falco gets fed to. Before anyone can note what terrible timing this is with a horde of Titans destroying the village around them, Connie makes an executive decision to nab the unconscious boy and feed him to his stranded Titan mother in his hometown.

Of course, no one believed at the time that Connie would be able to go through with such and act especially on someone as sweet and naïve as Falco, but it really drives home the not-so-quiet desperation of these characters and how each of them reacts to it. Mikasa and Jean are both trying to keep a level head. Armin isn’t in hysterics by any means but is missing his usual confidence. Connie, having already lost his best friend and half his squad is the first to let the despair of the situation get to him. It’s the same reason Armin volunteers to go after him. No it won’t solve any of their macro problems but reconciling with young Gabi and feeling like a hero again can at least make you feel useful in the face of your best friend trampling the world underfoot.

 The reveal of Annie at the very end of this chapter after more than half a decade gone is classic Isayama melodrama and it’s one of the reasons that, despite monthly leaks, Shingeki no Kyojin is still a worldwide best-selling phenomenon. I don’t have much else to say about it other than having her gasping for air like a fish out of water after being encased in a Disney Princess Prison was a nice choice. One would have to think that seeing Annie again would have some sort of affect on Eren even in his current Kaiju state. Eh, I’m getting ahead of myself though.

 Stray Thoughts

- Jean continues to be my favorite character in the story. With Pixis gone and Hange out of action, he’s the easy choice as acting Commander. Leading his own squad and the neighboring soldiers into battle against the rampaging Titans is heroism that stands out even more after sitting through months of the Jaeger Brothers’ power play.

- Shadis returning to aid the cadets that beat him down at Floch’s behest is all you need to know about his character. He’s a gruff man and his stint as the Survey Corps Commander left him emotionally busted. However, he never once forgot why he started doing this in the first place. He can’t save the world but he can save these kids, dammit.

- All Titan hardening has been rendered inert by Founder Ymir throwing off her chains. This includes Reiner who reveals to Gabi that his Titan’s armor fell off as the walls came down. Nothing in SnK happens on accident so we’ll put a pin by this and see where it goes.

- Reiner explains to a distraught Gabi, who is looking for Falco, that Eren is extra unstoppable because with full control of the Founder he now has full control of all Eldians. One has to wonder if the Ackerman Loophole is still in effect.

- Gabi used the same gun that started The Rumbling to save Kaya from a 2m Titan. Alright, jokes aside, I can put on my critical hat and say that this callback to Sasha was a bit ham-fisted and you could have found a less visceral way for Gabi to realize the error of her ways. (Avatar: The Last Airbender will always hold the title for this trope.) All that can be true and I still like Gabi showing some agency here. Being insistent on finding Falco and helping him is pretty key development imo. He’s the main reason she’s still alive.

125 - The Next Step

Annie is me when I write exposition. I know you think it’s “boring” and “filler” or whatever but I don’t care! Shut up and learn something for once, eh?

Anyway.

Annie and Hitch have catching up to do. I was about to say they were former roommates but as noted above, Hitch spent four years watching over the captive soldier. Now that she’s free and the world is ending she sees no reason to hold on to her backstory any longer. Annie was adopted and the man who trained her was also the man who raised her. It wasn’t until she was about to set sail for Paradis that he showed any remorse for her indoctrination. Even still, Annie never forgot his words and has been trying to get back to him as soon as she can by any means she can.

Taking off my critic hat I have to wonder what her mindset was locking herself away in that crystal. Obviously if she hadn’t the outcome is almost certainly being devoured by Eren or someone else as they were but a few short months away from learning the truth behind Titan Succession. Still, there’s no guarantee that she ever escapes at all. I was half convinced that Isayama was working toward the biggest troll job in the history of fiction by ending the story with Annie still in captivity. He didn’t though, so we have the rest of the narrative to work out what that means.

Sorta like these two.

Eh, he’s not wrong but his frustration is misdirected here. Mikasa asked a very valid question about what to do about the World Killer that happens to be their (former?) best friend. Mikasa is the only one in the group asking this question because she’s the only one that no longer id’s Eren as the hero of Stohess. Connie is a minor distraction especially compared to the army of Colossals; Armin knows this too but Connie is a distraction from the creeping dread that Eren is now unstoppable.

And Mikasa’s face here…oof. That’s two of her soon-dead Titan Bros who have yelled at her today. Should it hurt more? Probably but she is so far past hurt feelings at this point. She’s a soldier and she has work to do. Asking for a directive isn’t something to get triggered by but Armin is at his breaking point here. The little things that add up to make your shit sandwich 12 feet high. And so we hope that his side quest brings him peace.

I love this character.

He never once falters in his moral fiber. The depression keeps him from recognizing this but he is indeed special in his own way. After all is said and done that’s really all that can be expected of us. Shadis, ever the mentor tells his kids not to be heroes. Really, this quote can be transplanted to our current political situation IRL. There’s a lot of things wrong with the current system and we’d all like to make it better but we still have work and school and various other obligations to deal with and those don’t go away because we want to “make a difference.” The time will come to make your voice heard. Be ready when it happens, not before.

I do like how Shadis basically accepts his fate as a sacrifice to Floch’s faction as his only other option with the other heads of military dead are going on the run like Solid Snake and he is not about that life. He would rather take the rest of his lumps and be done with it.

This Fucking Guy

This is peak Lord of the Flies shit. Society has dissolved and the chain of command has been broken so just do whatever, dude! Think about what Armin said before. History always repeats itself without the proper prevention. The best prevention, of course, being education. Floch is the best example of why eliminating one side does not truly extinguish conflict. Even at the start we see various Shiganshina residents rightfully blaming Eren for his role in the destruction caused by the walls coming down.

The only way to reach consensus is with terror. We got a mere preview when Zackley got TNT’d so many moons ago. Now we see Floch Forster doing his best Neegan impression, splattering a volunteer’s brains across the floor. I won’t repost it but that panel is probably up there with Ymir’s cannibalization for most visceral of the story. Brutal in its suddenness, it almost becomes a smash cut. After so much death and destruction this act of violence isn’t lost in the pages because of how much grislier the executions are rendered. The intimacy of a human ending another’s life without the aid of a fleshy mech. I digress, though. Floch must be stopped or the future of Paradis is sealed, Rumbling or not.

 Stray Thoughts

- “I’ll tell Connie! That even as a Titan overturned on her back, his mom is fine as she is!” My goodness this story is dark.

- I have been mercifully absent from fandom developments, so I have no idea if people are still as turnt about the Gabi character as they were when I left. With that said, it’s fun to see some good logical development, just like every adult fan of this series predicted there would be.

- Again, is Kaya being saved by Gabi in a direct parallel to Sasha doing the same a bit on the nose? Quite so. It isn’t good or bad and, honestly, judging by some meta I’ve seen in the past I don’t blame any author for erring on the side of the obvious.

- Have I said this next one before? Who knows? Reviving Erwin on that rooftop instead of Armin wouldn’t have changed much besides short-term strategy. Once the Usurper started down the Dark Path even Commander Handsome would be powerless to stop him.

  126 - Hold the Line

Levi and Hange are on the lamb in the Forest of Big Ass Trees and the set up for this detour is a solid string of pages with Hange building shelter, tending to Levi’s wounds and picking off the new Survey Corps members that have been sent by Floch to find them be cause War is Hell.

This opening stanza is good because it highlights one of my favorite aspects of this character: their resourcefulness. First impressions being what they are lead people to take a throwaway joke about Hange keeping a pet Titan and let it inform one-note headcanons of their entire character. It shouldn’t be said but I will anyway. Hange is a clinical genius with a sharp wit in compliment. Their best skill is problem solving which would explain partially why they work so well with Armin. However, their particular thought process makes the kind of executive planning required from a Commander extremely challenging. Hange is better at devising a plan then receiving the instructions necessary to carry it out, if that makes sense.

Isayama, per usual, doesn’t spend the whole chapter on backtracking. He could have maybe but we do still have a story to get through. Isayama is a good author to study for improving your exposition. He conveys so much information with so little real estate. I still struggle and I’ve been at this for years.

I digress, though. Now we have Theo Magath lifting his gun to a crippled Levi in order to cope with the fact that he is A) stranded and B) not even slightly in control of this hopeless situation. So he listens and it turns out all four of these folk want the same thing, which is Zeke’s head on a platter. A very popular menu item to be fair.

For the uninformed here I am a fan of good dark comedy. This panel right here had me howling. As predicted by [checks notes] everybody, Connie did not have the gumption to callously lead this innocent child to their death. In one last effort to preserve his own conscience he explains that his Titanized mother who has been stranded for four years needs to be cleaned. Like you do. Every little detail eight down to his face when he thinks Falco has him made is so well done.

Of course, Armin and Gabi show up just in time. Armin, still haunted by Levi’s choice to save him, makes a bet on Connie’s bond with his squad that he did not seem overly confident in being correct on. Can’t truly call yourself a 104th alum until you’ve accepted your own untimely death.

 Skipping ahead a bit now. Floch is very busy being The Worst and if there hasn’t been a better collection of panels to illustrate the moral of the story. Yelena and Onyankapon have been lined up and are set to be publicly executed for their “crimes” against Eldia. The notable bit here for me is the way Isayama depicted the spectators. The have gnarled, twisted visages, some of them literally frothing at the mouth. You see, because extremist nationalism is bad and racism makes you ugly in every sense of the word.

Jean is tasked with gunning down Onyankapon but fires four rounds into the ground instead. This begins a series of Hashtag Machinations that will no doubt become clearer as the story unfolds. Jean and the two POWs escape in the Cart Titan’s mouth and the rest of the 104th leaves to collect Reiner and try to (somehow) stop Eren.

They had to try. Even at the cost of their own security it is difficult to agree with mass genocide. Having Annie on the team will be interesting as she and Eren were close. What’s left for me to wonder is how they plan to reach Eren, physically or otherwise, while he’s like…that. Every month more questions for each answer but after a decade you get used to it.

 Stray Thoughts

- Pieck’s surname is Finger? Or is this some Hange headcanon?

- We know Isayama is a big GoT fan. Apologies if this take has appeared elsewhere but an Ackerman keeping their promise seems to be his version of a Lannister paying their debt.

- Years after his death, the spirit of Erwin lives on in these characters. For some, it inspires strength; for others, only guilt.

- I’ve gone back to the interaction between Mikasa and Louise several times to try and get between the lines. Mikasa asking for her scarf back seems self-explanatory since it’s hers but Eren telling the girl to “throw it away” intrigues me. Seems to me that of all the things he had to give up to walk this path that his relationship with Mikasa is what he mourned the most in that cell.

- Always a good time to see Jean being a clever boy.

- Hange/Pieck banter is not something I knew I needed until I read this chapter.

- Hange’s fierce protectiveness of Levi makes more sense when you realize that these two are the only ones left of their original squad. The veterans of the military have all been cleared out, some more violently than others.

- It’s all but stated outright that Ackermans are part Titan. Goes a long way to explain their freakish strength and athleticism and their durability. Evidenced by the fact that Levi was apparently further from death than Zeke after the latter blew them both up.

[amplesalty]

Halloween 2020 - Day 1 - The Stand (1994) - Episode 1 The Plague

Gee, an epic post-apocalyptic story about an out of control pandemic. Never heard that one before.

Much as we like to tie the Halloween season to the Christmas one by opening up with a festive horror movie, why not link back to the TV binging that provided some content to this blog earlier in the year by partaking in this mini series? We’re only covering part one here today as this is like four feature length episodes. In a worst case scenario, the rest will serve as backups that I can plug in if I’m having an off day so to help me from falling behind. But ideally they’ll go up once a week on the same day as a standard movie post. You manage to go back to actually doing 31 entries for the first time in donkeys years and it all goes to your head and you suddenly think you can do 34!

This has actually been on my list for quite a while now, we do love a good (or bad) Stephen King adaptation around here and I have a distinct memory of seeing this on TV when I was a kid. I’m guessing it must have played over a few nights over here at some point or maybe over a bank holiday or something? Not that I really remember much in the way of details, just the cornfields and a creepy face which we’ll get on to.

It’s something that’s stuck with me over all these years, I actually got a copy of the book at one point in what must have been the early to mid 2000’s. Still have it actually, I dug it out for the sake of this entry. Seems it’s a version from 1980 from it’s first run as a paperback in the UK. Seems to have a page or two missing near the start in amongst all the copywright business but otherwise it’s in okay shape.

Even has some writing on the first page that I can only make out in parts, one section seems to read ‘an old man beats a mule’. Or perhaps, more pertinently to this story, a mute...

Cover seems a bit dull and non descript compared to the various other ones that have come out over the years. There’s something interesting to this original version with the two figures fighting, very much a literal take on the good versus evil nature of the story with one figure dressed in light colours and the other dark. The dark figure is wielding a scythe which is obviously closely associated with the Grim Reaper. Seems to have some form of beak sticking out of its hood too and the robes and shoes seem to be almost harlequin or jester type clothes?

I wasn’t really expecting much going into it, especially based on the 1990 mini-series of It. I think because of the nature of It being partly set in the 60’s, as well the contemporary portion which just looks very 80’s, gives it this image in my head of being very dated. Outside of a few actors like Tim Curry, John Ritter and Seth Green, there’s not really any notable stars in it either and even though, Green’s notably arguably came much later on. The Stand though? This thing has some names, even if the bigger ones are just small cameos. Amongst the main cast you’ve got Gary Sinise, Molly Ringwald and Rob Lowe. Obviously Ringwald isn’t a massive star or anything and is only really known for that string of John Hughes movies in the 80’s but around this time was peak Sinise. He’s not long removed from starring in Of Mice and Men (...and men....and men...) and would have roles in Forrest Gump, Apollo 13 and Ransom in the following years. Plus that big stretch in CSI:NY in the 00’s. But then you’ve got people like Ed Harris and Kathy Bates showing up, albeit briefly but these guys have some clout. I mean, Bates had just won the Academy Award a few years prior for her role in Misery so maybe she felt compelled to do more work under the King umbrella. Even the more minor roles seem like a roll call of ‘hey, it’s you!’ with Ken Jenkins (AKA Bob Kelso from Scrubs), Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and the proprietor of Joe Bob’s Drive In, Joe Bob Briggs.

The landscape of TV feels very different today with actors much more willing to work in the field as it’s taken on much more artistic integrity. The greater availability of shows after they’ve aired, be it through DVR, home media or streaming, has enabled people to watch in far greater numbers. There was a time when the big break was deemed to be making it to Hollywood and starring in motion picture epics but it seems more and more that story tellers are moving away from the relatively cramped 2 hour-ish format of the silver screen to having their vision play out over a long form story and the big name actors are following suit. I feel like things would have been very different back in the early 90’s so to have these names attached.

Seems for a long time there were plans to turn this into a movie, it’s even referred to during a ‘making of’ feature on the blu-ray (pretty much the only feature on there I might add) as a ‘motion picture epic’ but this must have been done way into production so either they were confused or trying to mislead viewers for some reason? Apparently in the early 80’s the idea was for the success of Creepshow to finance production of The Stand but took until the early 90’s for everyone to finally settle on the miniseries.

Very much a big budget affair too for a TV Show, $6m per episode. And it’s needed given the scale of the story, taking place in all these different locations, the special effetcs and with so many characters involved with over 125 speaking roles across the series. It’s definitely a jump up from It, even though that had the two different time periods, it only had a budget of $12m across its two parts compared to the $24m here across four parts.

But to finally address the massive elephant in the room, this story centers around an outbreak of a strain of influenza seemingly created in some shadowy government facility. After something goes awry in the lab, a doomed insider pleads with the guy watching the main gate to seal the facility but he instead piss bolts for his nearby house and hurriedly bundles his wife and child into their car as they make their escape. Everyone else is not nearly as fortunate though as the camera pans the facility, lifeless corpses strewn throughout that have seemingly dropped dead in the middle of their everyday activities, there’s even one guy doubled over on a ping pong table. All of this is set to the sounds of BOC’s Don’t Fear the Reaper and culminates with the image of a crow picking at a doll dropped by the child in the rush out of the front gate. The crow features prominently on the front cover of the blu-ray I have, perched atop of a skull. Though, I know they’re going for the whole post-apocalyptic vibe but what about the superflu is causing the road to burn up and crack like that? The bird also shows up a fair bit throughout the episode, I was going to talk about it being a raven and how such birds are linked with ill omen and death but it’s a crow apparently. Who knew? Not me, I’m no ornithologist. It also seems to be very closely linked with a mysterious figure that is alluded to throughout, a ‘dark man’ or monster.

When the original carrier of the disease makes his way into Arnette, Texas, and crashes into the gas station that Sinise’s character Stu Redman is working at, his dying words are of his efforts to escape from a dark man that was chasing him and that no one can out run him. Maybe in that moment you’d think this is just a state of delirium and he’s speaking oddly poetically about trying to outrun Death himself but as the show goes on, more and more people speak of this dark man, almost as if everyone in the grip of this disease comes to share this vision.

And speaking of visions, we can’t forget Mother Abigail and her cornfields. Both Lowe and Sinise’s characters are whisked away in their dreams to the middle of nowhere where a centurion on her porch warns of them of an ominous future. Think Mama Murphy from Fallout 4 only with much less chem addiction. The only thing Mama Abigail needs is her bread. What is it with King and fields anyway? You’ve got In the Tall Grass, plus the corn fields here and in Children of the Corn. There’s probably more I’m forgetting too. It’s either cornfields, writers in distress or killer ‘whatever I can see in front of me whilst I’m pitching this story’ with this guy.

In a way though it’s good that the show takes this supernatural turn because otherwise this would be a little too on the nose to be watching in this current climate. It’s very eerie to see such similar events play out on screen, starting with the widespread rumours and misinformation. It starts out innocently enough with talk of this so called superflu being downplayed, covered up by the government as an anthrax attack or outbreak of swineflu. I remember back to those more innocent times at the start of the year when COVID was naively dismissed as little more than another flavour of the month disease like the swineflu, sars or ebola that would be here today and gone tomorrow. But then you’ve got things like the sense of paranoia suddenly surrounding a simple cough or sneeze, talks of quarantines, social distancing, the implementation of masks (which one reporter describes as not being able to stop a flu germ with a hangover) to the more disturbing scene of lethal force being used against a TV news crew who refuse to surrender footage they’ve shot of army troops disposing of bodies. Granted, we never got anywhere near that level, I think the worst we had was that guy from CNN getting arrested or that Aussie reporter being pushed over.

They even managed to mirror how universal a pandemic like this is, from the common man to the height of celebrity. One of the characters we’re introduced to is a singer who, whilst he seems to be one of the few lucky to have some immunity, still sees his mother succumb to the virus. Just like we saw with the likes of BoJo or Tom Hanks, it really is a great leveller and, as a wise man once said, ‘You might be a King or a little street sweeper but sooner or later you dance with the Reaper!’. I guess we can take solice that we haven’t quite had the societal collapse that this show manages to pull off in less than a week, with Times Square on fire and a guy running around shooting people like he’s in Falling Down. That’s not to say we wont get there, we seem to be hovering more around general civil disobedience right now with the growing frustration of lockdown and PPE spilling out into protests.

It makes for compelling viewing to see how quickly things break down from simply a man having the sniffles to people being rounded up from their homes and ushered into army vehicles. There’s a lot to take in as the show has to establish the events taking place and introducing it’s multitude of characters so there’s not really much room to breathe. Hopefully episode 2 can relax a little now and give the cast some time to grow. There’s still some standout performances though such as Redman’s growing frustration at being cooped up in a test facility, lashing out at the doctors and nurses coming in in their hazmat suits, prodding and poking him. It would have been nice to see more scenes with him and Dr. Dietz. They have one argument where they nearly come to blows before having a big showdown by the end, with the Doc being one of the last staff members left alive, seemingly crazed by their inability to find any answers in Redman’s tests and he threatens to take his frustrations out on Redman by shooting him. He might be immune to the virus but I bet he’s not immune to a bullet. Dietz starts out with this complete lack of empathy, almost to the point of having a rather cheery deposition considering the circumstances, as he finds some fascination in the speed at which the virus causes death. But he becomes more and more short tempered and threatening as the days wear on and it would have been good to see a more gradual descent.

The aforementioned Ed Harris plays General Starkey overseeing the initial bioweapon project and the fallout of it’s outbreak, perhaps overseeing to a fault as it becomes pretty clear from his ever increasing five o’clock shadow, dishevelled clothing and massive bags under his eyes that he’s slept very sparingly since the initial breach in containment. I think for the entire time we see him, his screen never changes from a shot of one of the cooks at the base of the initial outbreak slumped over, face down in the meal he was preparing. It makes a bit of a change to go from the quite verbal exchanges of Redman and Dietz to Starkey’s physical appearance and facial expressions putting across his mood.

[kusunogatari]

[ Naruto OC x Canon Ship Week 2020 - Face to Face ] [ @naruto-ocxcanon-ship-week​ || @abyssaldespair​ ] [ Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Obito ] [ Alcohol ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ Trope: Online Dating ]

Nibbling her lip, Ryū stares at the slight reflection in her mobile screen. Thumbs flicker over the keys, not quite touching in indecision.

This is the closest she’s gotten.

The concept, admittedly, is just...not one she ever saw herself using. Online dating seems so, so...weird! Lining up your face, your name, a handful of facts, and calling it good. Is that really all it takes anymore? Sure, she...doesn’t exactly have mountains of experience beyond that. Maybe she’s just old-fashioned. But putting up something akin to a mugshot to try and find love seems very...strange.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Eeping in surprise, she claws the phone to her chest, face going pink and heart pounding. “N-nothing!”

Behind her, a coworker she knows mostly only in passing perks a brow. “Whoa, sorry! You looked kinda, uh...distressed.”

Ryū heaves a small breath. “...sorry, I didn’t mean to jump so bad. I just, uh...I’m trying one of those silly dating websites, and…”

The other woman quickly perks up. “Oh! Yeah they’re kinda scary at first but I met my boyfriend on one! I bet you’ll do just fine. Just be smart about it, and it usually all works out fine.”

“Smart…?”

“Y’know...meet in public places, tell someone where you’re going. About the same as a normal date for those like us, huh?”

At that, Ryū can’t help but deflate. “...yeah, good point.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. People gotta have their pictures on there. I take a pic of any license plates and send them to someone I trust just in case.”

Brow wilting, Ryū admits, “You’re...not exactly giving me votes of confidence here.”

“Hey, gotta be prepared for the worst, but the worst hardly ever happens. Besides, a bit of chatting online usually gives a pretty good indication of if something will even work. And you can always ask friends to go on doubles, too.”

At that, Ryū doesn’t answer. She...doesn’t really have many friends to ask, let alone any with dates she’d feel like asking along. “Yeah, good point. I’ll, uh...I’ll see how it goes.”

“Cool! Good luck!” Giving a wave as she passes by, her coworker heads around a corner and out of sight.

“...what am I doing…” Ryū mumbles to herself, looking back to her nearly-completed account. “I know this isn’t gonna work…” And now the less appealing sides are at the forefront of her mind. Maybe she should just keep her nose to the grindstone and pretend she never brought this up.

...but then again…

As much as she hates to admit it, she’s lonely. Being a pharmacist might be similar to her wish to be a doctor, but it’s not quite what she wanted. It just feels like something is...missing. And while Ryū isn’t the sort to assume all her problems can be solved by a guy (or gal), she’s still pretty able to realize that her social life isn’t the best. No real close friends, passing grades with her coworkers...not even any pets. Up until now, she’s lived life in a series of grinds. School, then work, and now...it feels lacking.

Hence the idea to try the app.

“...no harm in looking,” she eventually mumbles to herself, slowly going through the rest of her profile and hitting the confirm button. “You don’t have to go on with it, but...just look. See how it works. Maybe just...chat with someone. One step at a time, okay?”

Of course, by then her break is nearly over, so she mutes her phone and heads back to work. She...only ate half her lunch, but she’s not really all that hungry anyway. Only once her shift is over does she head back to her little apartment and...give this thing a real try.

At first, it throws nothing but male profiles at her. Which is all well and good, but...it’s not all she’s interested in. Looking over a few names and faces, she eventually bucks up the courage to pick one. He’s a few years older, lives a town over, and works as a physical therapist. Not bad, right?

...ugh, wrong.

As soon as they start chatting, she knows this...isn’t going to work. He’s all Mister Nice Guy, subtly bragging about himself and leaving only certain questions open for her in turn: the only things he wants to hear about, and...things she can easily see through as shallow. Eventually she manages to get him to shut up and quickly deletes him.

Okay...not a great first impression, but it’s not gonna be perfect the first time she tries. This isn’t a fairytale, after all. So, she tries another. And another.

After over two weeks of duds that don’t even get past initial chats, she’s about ready to give up.

Laying on her bed spread-eagle with a sigh, she stares up at the ceiling. What started as a vague inking is turning into nothing but a source of frustration. Not exactly what she signed up for. Weighing her options, Ryū eventually stirs when her phone gives an all-too-familiar notification sound.

Another match...wonderful.

Sitting up with a grunt, she opens the message and looks over yet another profile. At first glance, it’s just another guy. Ugh. The amount of lady-seeking ladies has been depressingly low, but...apparently those are usually on their own kind of sites. So, for now, she entertains herself with this one.

Obito Uchiha...huh. Vaguely sounds like her own Japanese roots. There’s a small spark of curiosity, adjusting her stance slightly. Short dark hair, dark eyes, and...well, his pics aren’t the clearest (he clearly knows his good side (or what he’s assuming is his good side since...it’s all she sees)). But she spies a cat. That’s a win. She likes cats. A glance at his actual profile shows a like of sweets, cats (aha!), and a dislike of...aubergines? Googling that, there’s a hum of understanding. It’s eggplant! She...didn’t know that...whoops. The rest of the summary (stuff about ‘being extreme’ and ‘having abs’) gets her to giggle.

Well...might as well give it a try.

Giving the okay, she opens up the chat window, nibbling her lip in thought. What should she say…?

Hello!

A bit surprised, Ryū jolts slightly, not expecting the quick response! ...hi!

I didn’t think you’d accept it so fast!

And I didn’t think you’d say hello so quickly either!

Oh, sorry...was that too fast?

The apology begets a subconscious smile. No, not at all! My phone is usually pretty quiet is all. Sorry if I’m awkward, I’m...still kinda new at this.

Ha, me too. I haven’t had too many matches yet, so I’m still practicing.

Guess we can practice together! Though I have to ask you…

...eh?

What’s your kitty’s name?

Oh! Her name is Tenebris.

Aww, I love that name!

She’s my lady, haha! Helps me reel in the girls ;D

Ryū can’t help a snort. Well it seems to be working. I don’t have any pets, sadly…

What? None at all?

No...I work a lot so I haven’t gotten around to it. And I don’t want them to be lonely!

Bah, cats are good at being alone. Feed them and clean their box and you’re fine.

I’ll have to think about it, haha~

After a few minutes, Ryū realizes...this is the longest she’s talked to someone on here yet. Sure, it was a little stiff to start, but by some grace they just sort of...fell into conversation. No posturing or anything. It’s rather...refreshing! Encouraged, she keeps texting as she starts working on her dinner.

So what kind of work do you do?

I’m a pharmacist! Not quite the doctor I planned on, but it works.

Ohhh, wow!

What about you?

There’s quiet for a few minutes, and Ryū can’t help but wonder if that was a bad question. But then Obito replies, Sorry, my cat got stuck behind the couch...I uh...am currently working on a garbage truck part time…

She blinks. That’s...very random. Nothing wrong with that. It’s an important job, after all!

Eh, yeah...not very charming though, is it?

Oh, pffft. I stand behind a counter all day and give people medicine over and over. It’s not exactly exciting most days. We all make our ends meet somehow.

I guess that’s true.

Smiling at her phone, Ryū keeps cooking and chatting, giving play-by-plays as he asks what she’s making.

Do you like cooking?

Mhm! Food’s one of those things that’s both a necessity, and yet can be fancy when you want it to be, so...I thought it would be good to learn. And it’s a lot of fun!

I’m...okay at it.

Maybe I can give you some lessons down the road, hm?

You would?

Sure! It’d be something fun to do.

Like a first date?

At that, Ryū pauses. Right...dating. That’s what this is all for. She almost forgot… Sure! If that’s something you’d like to do. I guess dinner and a movie is pretty common for that. We’ll just make our own!

I’d really like that!

Cheeks warming, Ryū beams at the screen. I guess...it’s a date! Eventually. Whenever we can make something work, and maybe talk a little more…?

Sure! I take a lot of random side jobs so I can be a little flaky…

That’s okay - we’ll just keep chatting until then. You’re actually the first person that’s been fun to talk to…

He sends a big smile emoji. Success!

You’ll have to think about what we should make! I have to warn you, I like making dessert, too…

Oh no...my biggest weakness…

And no eggplant, right?

Eugh, no.

Haha, noted!

The conversation runs well into the evening until Ryū admits she’d best get to bed. Guess I’ll talk to you some more later, okay?

Mhm!

Say hi to Tenebris for me!

Haha, I will! Goodnight Ryū.

Night, Obito.

Checking her other messages, Ryū plugs in her mobile to charge before mulling over the evening. As she does, a smile slowly pulls at her lips.

Well, she can’t make any assumptions yet, but...this is a good start.

Chatting with Obito quickly becomes a routine. Though not much of a texter before, she checks in and quips with him throughout the day. He tells her about his latest jobs, and she notes anything out of the ordinary at work. Days blend into a week, and then two.

“So…”

“Hm?”

Leaning against the counter, Ryū’s coworker smirks. “Seems to me you hooked one, huh?”

Her cheeks flush pink. “Um...maybe…”

“You haven’t put your phone down for more than fives minutes all day!”

The pink gets darker as the other woman laughs.

“I’m glad! So, you gonna see him?”

“Yeah, eventually...I think we’re both a little nervous.”

“That’s adorable. You’ll have to let me know how it goes! Been nice seeing you look so bright lately.”

Ryū blinks. “...really?”

“Yeah. No offense, but...ever since I’ve worked here, you’ve been so quiet and to yourself. But lately you’ve just seemed more upbeat and...I dunno, out there.”

The observation admittedly takes her a bit off-guard. “...oh…”

“It’s just nice to see you look happy, that’s all. I know a job like this one’s kinda drudgy. Glad you’ve got something to keep your chin up.” With a smile, the other pharmacist straightens and heads back to work.

Still a bit struck, Ryū mulls all that over. True, she’s always been one to keep her nose to the grindstone. Maybe having a bit of a social outlet just...got her going to opening up some more.

...huh.

So...any openings in your schedule coming up?

Uh...I haven’t really checked lately. One sec!

Waiting for Obito’s reply, Ryū nibbles her thumbnail. She’s going to do it. She’s going to ask him over. By now she’s gotten to know him pretty well. She’s always been able to trust her gut, and...she believes she can trust him.

Though just in case, she’ll be letting her neighbor know when he comes to visit.

Just to be safe.

So I think I actually have Sunday clear. Does that work with you?

Yeah! I’m always on a Monday through Friday schedule, so weekends are almost always good with me!

Okay...cool!

Any idea what you wanna make?

Make?

Yeah! Remember, we talked about cooking…?

Ohhh, yeah! Uh...honestly I don’t have any preference.

You sure?

Yeah, just no aubergines.

I remember, haha.

Should I bring anything?

Nah, I’ll handle it. Though I guess if you have a movie you’d like to watch?

Ooh, okay! Uh...any you don’t like?

Maybe nothing too gory…?

Aw, that’s no fun!

I saw enough in medical school, believe me...it’s not fun.

Okay, okay. I’ll pick something.

And with a few other details hashed out...they have a date scheduled.

Ryū’s stomach can’t stop fluttering: both in excitement, and in nerves. She hasn’t really dated since college...what if she does something stupid? Offends him somehow? Or something just goes...wrong?

Okay, no, stop it. It’s gonna be fine. You’ve talked a lot, so...no need to be nervous. Just do it!

By the time Sunday rolls around, she’s as ready as she’ll ever be.

Fiddling with her hair in the bathroom mirror (can she EVER get it to do what she wants?), she jumps as someone knocks on the door. Trying to manage her nerves, she peers through the little peephole, spying what indeed looks to be Obito.

Taking a moment to steady her breath, she pulls open the door and looks up just as he looks over.

...oh.

She always thought his photo gallery on his profile was a bit...empty. At first she hadn’t really noticed that all of Obito’s photos had been taken showing one side of his face.

So only now, with him looking straight at her, does she see what he’s been hiding.

The apprehension in his face clearly shows he’s awaiting her reaction, and at first she can only blink. Eyes naturally slide to the right side where a plethora of scars mar the skin from his brow to his chin. One even reaches up into his lip.

But though it’s a surprise by novelty, it otherwise does nothing to hinder the blush in her face.

...gosh he’s handsome.

Her gaze lingers on the scars for only a moment before lifting back to his eyes, cheeks rosy and giving a demure smile. “...hi.”

“...hey.”

There’s a few beats of awkward silence, the pair of them stuck staring at each other. “...s-sorry! Um...come on in!” Ryū steps aside, going hotter in the face. A nice button-up shirt and clean jeans make him look quite snazzy. Seems her blouse and skirt wasn’t too much or too little. They hadn’t really breached any ideas about how formal to be…

Stepping in, Obito glances around before clearing his throat. From behind his back he draws a little bouquet of flowers. “Er...for you.”

Ryū’s greys alight with delight. “Oh!” It’s cliché as all hell, but she loves them. Delicately accepting the blooms, she gives them a sniff before beaming at him. “Thank you! I, er...I don’t have anything for you…”

“That’s okay! I mean, food’s good with me, heh.”

Giving a giggle, Ryū retreats to the kitchen to put them in some water, setting the vase on her little table. “There…!”

“You...have a really nice apartment!”

“Thank you...I’m always either working or tired, so I don’t manage to mess it up much,” she laughs. “I tried to make it kinda...cute. I’m not exactly an interior designer.”

“No, it’s nice. It suits you.”

That makes her go pink all over again. “...s-so! Um...are you hungry…?”

Obito gives a grin. “Always!”

“Okay! Um...I thought we’d do something a bit...basic? Just in case? Do you like spaghetti…?”

“Yeah!”

“...okay! Cool. Um…” Awkwardness creeping back up, she claps her hands and giggles nervously. “Then, I...guess we’ll give it a try!”

The pair move back into the kitchen, where Ryū already has everything sorted out and ready to go. “Wow...looks professional.”

“Oh gosh, it’s just…” She gestures vaguely. “...I wanted to be ready so we wouldn’t waste any time…” Turning on the heat under the water, she thinks to ask, “...no food allergies, right?”

“No. At least...none I’ve found…? And I’ve had spaghetti before, it should be fine, hm?”

“Okay!”

A bit stuttery at first, she starts guiding him through her process, letting him take most of the reins and acting more as a guide. Obito listens attentively, looking exceedingly focused.

...it’s adorable.

“Okay, so with the grease drained off, we can add our sauce...and once it’s all combined, that’ll be that!” She, in the meantime, worked on a salad mix. “And the garlic bread should be about done, too!”

“You make this all seem so easy.”

She flushes pink. “It...just takes practice! And you did really well!”

“I had a good teacher.”

Once it’s all finished, the pair of them ferry things to the table. “Okay...you try it first.”

“Me?”

“Mhm! You made it, right?”

Glancing to his plate, Obito twirls some noodles onto his fork, lightly pink at Ryū’s watching as he takes the bite and chews. “...it’s good!”

Beaming again, she follows suit. And it’s perfect! Mouth still full, she gives a thumbs-up, making him laugh. Between spaghetti, salad, garlic bread, and a little wine, they get through dinner with hearty conversation and increasing laughter.

“I dunno why I was so nervous,” she admits once they’re done, a cheek leaning against a fist as she twirls the last few sips of her wine. “I mean...we’ve been talking so much already. Guess I just felt kinda...out of practice. Y’know?”

“Yeah, me too. Though I try to bravado my way through things.”

“Well, we got through it. Should we play the movie…?”

“Sure!” He holds up a thumbdrive, grinning. “From my collection.”

“Oho!”

With a refill of wine, they move into the little living room of the apartment, Obito hooking up the TV and starting the film.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see!”

“Not gory, right?”

“Nooo. But...maybe a little scary.”

“Scary is okay. I like spooks. Just not lotsa blood and flesh and…” Her nose wrinkles. “...y’know.”

“Ha, yeah.”

They settle on the one couch she has, and at first sit...a little ways apart. They’d had opposite sides of the table before, and...well, this is new. But like a couple of dumb teenagers, they slowly meander their way closer, testing the other’s boundaries as they go until Ryū finds herself snuggled up against Obito’s side, head on his shoulder.

Obito, just out of her line of sight, is clearly ecstatic.

The movie starts out tame, but true to his word, it quickly takes on a rather creepy tone. Transfixed, Ryū stares at the screen, slowly worming her way further and further into the dip of Obito’s side.

...if she weren’t so focused on the movie, she’d realize that was likely his plan.

Obito, on the other hand, has technically already seen this one, and instead mostly watches for her reactions. The closer they get to a big scare, the more often he looks, biting back a grin until it finally happens -!

Shrieking in terror, Ryū scrambles for someplace to hide, and...ends up burrowing into his chest with a string of garbled, frightened nonsense as Obito does his best not to laugh.

“You okay?”

“I -! That -!” Her head shakes with a whimper, still hiding. “Nope. Nope nope nope.”

“Want me to stop it?”

“...nooo…” One grey peeks out, finding the screen a bit more bearable now. “...that was fricken’ terrifying! Ohhh my gosh!”

He just snickers, ignoring her continuing whines of discomfort. “It’s almost over, don’t worry.”

To his delight, she remains half-perched on his lap for the rest of the film. Once the credits start to creep up the screen, she loses her tension and goes limp. “...I almost had a heart attack…”

“Aw…”

“I mean it was good! But cripes, I wasn’t ready...eugh…”

Obito rubs a hand along her back, still clearly amused. “Gonna be able to sleep tonight?”

“...I better, I have work in the morning…”

He apologizes, watching as she tears herself from the couch and disappears into the kitchen. “...Ryū?”

No answer.

Brow furrowing, he makes to follow just in time to see her pull a pan out of the refrigerator. “What’s that?”

“Peach cobbler,” she sniffs, setting it on the counter and then fetching vanilla ice cream. “This is my reward for surviving your movie.”

“You’re gonna eat the whole pan?”

She shoots him a pout. “...maybe.”

He mirrors the look. “...I want some…”

“You have to promise never to scare me like that again.”

“Okay, okay. But wasn’t it at least a little fun…?”

Scooping the food into bowls, she thinks back over how nice and warm it was in his arms...and she could smell his cologne… “...maybe a little.”

They stay standing in the kitchen, leaned against the counter as they eat their dessert. Though not as lively as before, they chat in the quiet.

“So...on a scale of one to ten, how was our date?”

Ryū sucks on her spoon with a thoughtful hum. “...a nine.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why not a ten?”

“Because you scared the bejesus out of me!” After a moment to pout, she asks, “...you?”

“A ten.”

“...really?”

“Good food, good movie...good company. What’s not to love?”

She...isn’t sure how to respond to that, so she takes another bite to excuse her silence.

“We’ll have to try cooking something else next time. Something spicy!”

“Not too spicy, it’ll make me sick!”

“Whaaat?”

“I have a delicate stomach...nothing too greasy, either.”

“That’s all the good food!” he laughs.

“It’s not my fault!”

“Fine, fine...we’ll figure something out. I’ll have to find some of my grandmother’s recipes. From Quebec.”

That earns a blink. She thought she heard traces of an accent in his voice, but didn’t want to assume. “...sure! I’d really like that.”

But eventually, the bowls and the wine glasses are empty. The movie is over. The hour is growing late.

It’s time to call it a night.

...but it’s clear neither of them really want to.

Obito offers to help tidy up, and that helps take a little more time. But once that’s done, there’s really no more excuses.

“...well…” Ryū fidgets a bit. “Guess I’ll...say goodnight?”

“Yeah, I better go. Don’t want to keep you up to late. And I’ve got my route in the morning.”

“Mm…”

She walks him to the front door, the pair of them lingering in the opening for a long moment. “...be safe on your way home. Text me to let me know you made it okay, all right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And to say goodnight.”

“...again.”

“...yeah, again.”

Another pause.

Indecision seeming to make her bones vibrate, Ryū eventually makes up her mind. Stepping up a bit closer, she lays a hand against Obito’s chest and - with a bit of posturing up on her toes - she gives him a feather-light press of her lips to his.

Flashing pink, he nonetheless reciprocates, both of them easing slowly back apart.

“...goodnight, Obito.”

“...night, Ryū. I’ll...talk to you later.”

Nodding with a shy smile, she watches him head down the hall before forcing herself to shut the door. For a moment, she stands and holds the knob...then turns and leans against it with a sigh.

...it seems so quiet in here now…

Eyes lift to her little dining room table, where the flowers he brought her are still sitting in their vase. The sight brings her a small smile. As much as she’s sad to see him go...well, that just means she’ll get to look forward to seeing him again next time.

Next time...what a lovely concept.

Heaving a more contented breath, she makes her way back into the apartment. Time to get ready for bed, and wait to hear he got home okay. Then she’ll sleep, and start all over again.

...but at least now there’s something to look forward to.

     All righty, another day, this one with Ryū’s ship with @abyssaldespair​‘s Obito, set in a modern verse! I had...several ideas for these two, and picking one was difficult and ended up costing me time BUT, it’s done xD      Hopefully I can get MORE done :’D      But yes! This was actually an idea Meg submitted to me, with the premise based largely on Obito hiding his appearance on his profile until the big reveal! Ryū, of course, doesn’t mind his scars no matter the verse. She still thinks he’s one cute cookie x3      Anywho, I guess that’s...really all there is to say for this one! Hope ya like it Meg, and I better get to work on more drabbles xD

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Siren & The Healer (8)

Natasha Romanoff arc

Chapter 8: The Raven Haired Man

Platonic Natasha x fem!Reader, Loki x fem!Reader (soulmates?)

Theme: With cracks between the most powerful superheroes of the earth, Natasha Romanoff does not find rest when she is assigned on a mission to find the missing pieces of a puzzling power that once nearly got into the hands- rather, tentacles- of Hydra. In order to unearth the pieces, she must dig through her own past and make a decision that might decide the fate of the earth in the coming wars.

Series: Will contain violence, death, destruction, softness, fluff, smut, friendship, and whatnot

Chapter warnings: alcohol, dreams, shock, love, lots of PDA

A/N: This was written a few years ago with an OC in mind so reader has a name but it is a reader insert.

Word Count: Will I ever be able to find love?

MASTERLIST in bio, love

“Identification.”

“Alianovna. I’m here to see your boss.”

The six and a half feet tall muscled giant looked down at the redhead with emotionless eyes, not making an effort to move even his eyelids.

“The boss isn’t in,” he finally huffed out, eyeing you standing behind the assassin.

“Really, Krugo? Do you want to tell your boss you made her wife walk away from right outside her door?”

Natasha could feel your eyes go wide with a muted gasp barely escaping your lungs. “You are-” you tried to hold the excitement within, balancing your voice- “married. Cool! Very cool! Cool cool cool cool cool cool!”

“Boss’ wife had promised me cookies,” Krugo muttered under his breath.

Natasha smirked and you felt the need to come into full view of the bodyguard with a huge box in your hand. “This must be for you then,” you declared, opening the lid to show huge chocolate chip cookies waiting to be devoured.

Krugo watched the bounty intensely before breaking into a smile. “You never forget.”

“Of course not, Krugo,” Natasha acknowledged with a hug for the cute giant, who went ahead and opened the door for her and you to be let in.

“How do you balance your-” you flailed your hands in the air for the shortage of words for what you were experiencing- “work and personal life?”

Natasha kept walking down the dark corridor till she was at the door marked ‘Restricted entrance’, turning the knob to open it for the both of you. “It’s not that hard when you and your partner are in the same line of business,” she put it mildly before directing you to walk inside the room equipped with monitors, recorders, IR boxes and whatnot. And in the midst of it all stood a woman with her arms across the chest and her demeanour that declared she ran the goddamn place without even saying it.

“Rosa,” the assassin greeted her wife with a tone dipped in the morning dew and spread all over the skin with the utmost tenderness by the lover.

Rosa was an entire world in herself from where you stood. Her soft curls ending from the raven hair into golden brown ends framing her face perfectly. Her lips wore a mocha shade- soft and notoriously sexy at the same time- while everything else was bare. She was dressed in a black blouse over blue jeans being complimented by a black leather jacket and for the second time in one day, you were starting to question your orientation.

“Tasha,” Rosa greeted back- her heavy voice a strong declaration in itself- taking a step towards her wife, bringing her hands to settle on her waist before running up her back as she kissed her. You pretended to find a coffee mug on the table interesting to give the wives some privacy till Natasha made introductions.

“Are we adopting her?” Rosa casually spewed while opening beer bottles for the guests. Natasha burst in giggles while you stood there confused.

“I am an adult,” you stressed, “a full-blown adult, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Beer, adult?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’d prefer something stronger with the kind of day I’ve had.”

Rosa smirked and you could see the same movements that you saw in Natasha when she first had a conversation with you. She was already studying you up and down. “I’m sorry I have to ask because curiosity is killing me. Are you a black widow too?”

Rosa took a sip of her beer while Natasha sat in her wife’s chair and looked at her with her fingers resting on her lips and other hand caressing the beer bottle in her hand- looking like a human struck with love for the very first time.

“I was,” Rosa stated, sitting down on the table, one leg dangling, “but I got out of the system early and made my way through the world till I settled here. For now. Currently, I’m a Detective and a home-made jewellery maker. What about you?”

“I’m supposed to be studying Artificial Intelligence, Data Science and Networks but I’m currently at crossroads with my career decisions and have a couple of nicely suited hitmen chasing me for reason unknown. Your wife says it’s something to do with some ancient weapon that someone might have told me about. But all things ancient- especially the secrets- that I’ve been told about are either violent, racist or incredibly sexist in nature. And none of them mentions any ancient weapons to take out modern Nazis or that creepy guy who keeps calling your wife a...a...what was that word?”

“Rusalka,” Natasha helped, making Rosa’s head whip in her direction with her eyes going wide.

“I thought he was dead!” Natasha shrugged at her wife's reaction.

“Why does he keep calling you a mermaid?” you were genuinely interested in knowing the history there.

“He’s actually calling me a siren when he uses that term,” Natasha mentioned matter-of-factly. Rosa shifted from the table to a chair beside Natasha, taking her arm in her own, letting her fingers entangle slowly to rub away whatever stress she could. “He has always called me that. Ever since we were kids.”

“...because you lured enemies with songs?” You tried to guess.

“Because I was made into a weapon who would lure the enemies with the illusion of becoming what they desired the most. A damsel in distress they could dominate, an invisible records keeper they could blurt out their secrets to, a useless spy they would share their plans with because they had big egos, a lover, a widow, a victim, an object of pleasure, a friend, a keeper. It’s really not that hard to deceive men. I mean, so was every other black widow.”

Your furrowed brows took everything in for those two seconds of silence. “Yeah, the mermaid thing makes sense if every widow was a siren. Mermaids are pretty badass too. On top it a Russian Mermaid? I mean-” you ended the sentence by mimicking an explosion in the head.

Rosa chuckled. “I like her,” she muttered into Natasha’s shoulder before turning to you, “have a drink at the bar. On the house. Tell them my name. And if anyone tries to mess with you tell them they rather mind their business if they don’t want to end up like Damon. They’ll know what it means.”

“Cool!” you exclaimed before going back out into the club, leaving the two lovebirds to finally get some alone time to themselves. Rosa took the opportunity to drag Natasha into the couch with her, wrapping her in her arms and cuddling with her; showering her with kisses till she could feel her wife’s shoulders let go of the stress they had been holding throughout the day.

“Tell me what’s going on, Tasha,” she softly spoke into her ears while Natasha played with Rosa’s hair.

“Whoever Yuri is working with is after Keosha. At first, the theory was that she knows something or has something to do with the weapon Hydra is after. But I’m starting to question that after she saved me from falling debris by just placing her hands under it.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Rosa, she was making chunks of rocks float! When I asked her she said this had happened for the first time. She said she was taught this old Japanese art of healing where the force of the universe is used to heal and protect things. She said when she saw me trapped and about to be hit by the falling ceiling the force worked like an adrenaline rush and she blocked it. Well, the force blocked it. That’s what she kept saying. That she’s just a medium and the force was doing all of it.”

“Weird but okay. Go on.”

“So, Nakia went-oh, she’s-”

“I know who she is. Go on.”

Natasha raised her brows at Rosa, turning her face up a little to be caught off guard by the little peck that came on her forehead. “Nakia talked to her sources and confirmed that there is an existence of monks in Japan who practise this form of healing and are said to take on anyone as a student who is willing to learn. And often in the past, they have experienced a short surge of that...thing to protect people during floods or some catastrophic events. In comparison, what happened today was nothing.”

“Okay. So, if she’s a noob in this healing thing, she won’t be of much use as a weapon to Yuri.”

“Right?”

“Maybe her teacher or someone like that is connected to the weapons?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. The last time the weapon was nearly in Hydra’s hand was in India. Keosha grew up in India till her father moved to Japan with her. Then she was between countries and continents for a while. If they had to come all the way for her, it could mean that the weapon wasn’t that country anymore. Or the person connected to it. And Keosha seems to be the only key.”

Natasha loved the rise of Rosa’s chest when she sighed, the former burying herself in that warmth and closing her eyes. “Looks like you have your work cut out for you, shortcake,” Rosa hummed, stroking those fiery strands to put her love at ease. “Hmm,” Natasha replied, breathing in the familiar scent of cocoa coming from Rosa’s chest, “I do. But for now, I’d rather lay here in your arms.”

.

The club was lit in a golden glow off the walls with a dance floor separated from the bar with a decent sitting arrangement right in the middle that faced the stage for occasional performances. You enjoyed tonight’s performance by someone who went by the name Serena with a Long Island in your hand and another on its way. It was relaxing, the serenade of the sweet voice mixed with whatever incense was burning inside this place to make it smell so good. Wonder what Rosa’s looking for in such a place. 

“Hey, beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?”

You had jumped at the voice being so close to you before turning around to see a man leaning on the bar, next to you, almost at the edge of invading your personal space.

“I have one, thanks,” you politely declined, going back to enjoy the performance.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” the man continued, stepping closer this time to raise all the alarms in your body, “let’s take a corner and get to know each other a little.”

Your brows crinkled hard and turned to face him. “I’m sorry, are you hard of hearing? Or is something wrong with your sight?” The man did not know what to say so you continued. “Are you sure you can hear clearly? Because I just said no. And if that doesn’t suffice, do I look like someone who would be ready to bang the first person she sees in the club?”

The man made incoherent noises like a lost ostrich, not sure what to say. “She’s wearing a Hello Kitty t shirt with baggy jeans to a club, man. How could she not be more obvious?!”

“Yes! Thank you!” you acknowledged the other voice next to you, turning to see a middle aged man with a french goatee and shaded glasses nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks that were raised in your direction.

“Aren’t you too young to be drinking?” the man shot his head back a little with a shade of confusion as he looked at you. You could not help but notice the expensive blue suit he wore to tell you he wasn’t some low life, unlike the other guy who made himself scarce as soon as the embarrassment hit him.

“Aren’t you too old to be wearing glasses inside a club?” you hit back, raising your glass to clink his.

“No, but seriously,” he continued after taking a sip of his whiskey, “you look too young. Hey, Marvin, did you check her ID? Did you come here alone?”

“Oh my G-”

“What! This isn’t a place for kids. Wait, are you safe? Are you in some kind of danger? Look at me. Look at me. Blink twice if you’re being used by some shady peeps for some shady businesses.”

An eye contest later- which this man lost- you finally spoke. “I’m fine. I’m here with a friend. And I am an adult. So, do you mind if I have my drink in peace?”

He raised his hands in peace and went back to his own drink.

A long satisfying sip later, something started bugging you. “Have we met before?”

“Me?” The man asked just to be sure. “You? I'm sure I would've remembered Hello Kitty."

You kept staring at him till your brain hurt. "Ugh! I swear I feel like I've seen you somewhere. But for some reason, you seem much...younger?"

The man feels his head jolt and his eyes nearly pop out. "You mean I was younger when we met? Allegedly."

"No. I mean when we met, you seemed old and...and wrinkled and definitely tired. Like dead tired."

Before he could say anything, he got caught in your eyes searching for something on his shoulder. "What."

"Is your arm okay?" You poked him over his blazer, making him smack yours away.

"Hey! My arm's okay. Don't touch me!"

"Huh...maybe it was someone else then?" You stared at his arm for a while before giving up. "You don't seem like the type to suit up in some weird funky suit anyways."

The man's back went straight as an arrow. "Okay, listen, young lady. One, no one wears and pulls off suits like me. Two, there hasn't been any mofo born who can do it like me. And three, why are we still talking?"

"Oh, I'm sitting here because you're giving off such a dad vibe that no douchebag has come over to offer me a drink. And you're sitting here because you are waiting for someone that clearly hasn't shown up yet," you concluded, popping a peanut in your mouth before taking a good sip of your Tea.

"Phone Call for you, Mr Stark." The bartender drove a metaphorical sword through the whole conversation with a wireless phone in his hand.

"Looks like you a busy man, Mr Stark. See ya later."

"Hey," the man addressed as Stark called out for you when you left your seat at the bar, "you better not be running into trouble, kid."

You guffawed, trying to hold your stomach to not barf any of the liquor you just had. "Thanks for the advice, dad, but it looks like trouble is kinda my thing now."

With that last salutation, you tried to make your way back to wherever you came from- your drunken brain trying to make sense of the passageways that appeared in front of you.

In those very passageways you tried to make sense of dreams- the ones that reluctantly came to you- and some unrelated memories that somehow always found its way to mingle with the present, no matter where you were, what you were doing; there always seemed to be ghosts of the past revolving around you, questioning your existence.

“Stark,” Your tongue repeated that name, time and again, like some forgotten flavour wanting to be revisited by your brain forcefully. Oh...only if you knew. Only if you knew.

I have to go to the loo. Where the fuck is the fucking loo?! It was a nightmare for two minutes before you finally found the door with the engravings shouting out “female” before you ran in and shut the door behind you and let the dams break as soon as the mirror showed you your sweet face.

You knew it was just the drinks but the feelings inside you poured themselves out, trying to find an outlet they could before they were shut down.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck is happening?! I never asked for this?! What the fuck is happening?! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh Fuck! Why am I crying? Why am I CRYING?!!”

As if to answer your prayers behind those closed eyes, you saw a green pair of eyes looking straight at you with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit for,” they announced in your direction, forcing you to get up and find your way. And so you did.

Turning the knob you barged into that one room you knew was safe.

“WE HAVE TO FIND MY MASTER, NAT! SHE’S IN JAPAN!”

It was one of those moments when- even though you were proud of yourself, you did not want to live anymore, thanks to the peak of drunkenness you were currently swimming in. The flush of heat in your cheek was proof enough to drive you out when you saw Natasha and Rosa busy in...having the time of their life.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” you nearly felt yourself cry before bowing to the host and running outside, never remembering Krugo leading you to the VVIP lounge where the Stark guy let you sleep with your head on his lap while he waited for the news on his friend and gently patted you to sleep while constantly cursing himself and calling his girlfriend to ask what to do in case of a drunken kid sleeping in his lap.

.

Loki woke up with a headache- a low compensation for what he had experienced right before he had been tormented into a coma.

“What happened?”

Though the question was a genuine throwback from his end, it irritated the hell out of the sisters who had tried to mend the biggest crises of their lives seconds ago.

“You hit your head and went into a coma” Nebula narrated with ease and patience fit for a storyteller of the ancient times. “Here, drink this,” she offered him some water.

Loki, reluctant to be deceived by any more mind tricks, observed the water in Nebula’s hands before being convinced it was safe to drink.

“Why are we even helping him?” Loki heard Gamora utter those words before being given a judgmental stare by her sister to quiet down and let her take the lead.

“Are you alright?” the younger one asked the God with genuine concern in those beady eyes as she wiped away the blood from the wound slowly healing in Loki’ head.

Loki did not give a convincing answer before drowning- once again- in the maze of the leftover chaotic flashbacks he was witnessing of some life unknown- something different to his own existence before he regained control of his presence; his true present.

“I’m fine,” he finally blurted out, his hands still grasping onto the metal rod in the ship that was helping him maintain his equilibrium. “Where’s the loo?”

Even though it was satisfying for the entire spaceship for the moment, it wasn’t sufficient for him. He walked with a pretentious walk towards the loo before locking the door behind him as he tried to balance his mind. His fingers was digging into his temple while he was trying to get to the root of whatever he had been witnessing- the incoherent cries, tumbling buildings, fast-paced heartbeats, chaos and whatnot till he was focused on those y/e/c eyes reflecting the cheap lights of some shady dancefloor till they were mixed in them, dancing and mingling with them right till the second a heavy voice rang in your ears. “We have to get you to a safe place.” If it weren’t for the emergency, Loki’s subconscious was sure of having already mingled with the sweet poison that was those eyes and be lost in them.

.

You were sure you had cried. Cried while Natasha and Rosa tried to get you out of the club and to the plane waiting for you by the edge of the city, You were pretty sure Aneka wanted to throw you out of the jet if weren’t for Natasha and Nakia holding her back, asking you to drink water after every thirty minutes.

“Where are we going?” Your teary, subconscious state asked Nakia.

“Japan,” she answered before she was content that you had ample amount of water and that Aneka was at a considerable distance from you as possible. For now.

“Who is that guy with that long, black, sexy hair?” you asked a genuinely confused Natasha.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about sweetie” were the last words you heard before slumber took over everything in this dark world.

[spongeekat]

Parachute Please (Superfamily + Spideypool ; ABO)

A one shot I wrote 2 years ago I wanna add here! 

Summary; 

Peter unexpectedly goes into heat after an Avengers mission, which could have been fine, but the ride back is 2 hours and he's stuck on a plane with his closest friends and family.

At least there's one person he can call at times like these for relief. And in comes Wade.

It had been a really off day.

When Steve’s curious eyes traced the outline of Peter’s mask, looking at him with a searching expression, he realized he must have muttered the concern outloud. The 19 year old pulled his own gaze up to meet his Pop’s, able to see the question on his lips before he’d even asked.

“Is everything okay?”

The answer to that wasn’t simple. Physically, Peter had only sustained minor injuries and bruises during the mission’s main confrontation, and while he’d been thrown back against a building, his back had been braced enough to protect him from any serious damage. Yet throughout the entire fight, he’d found himself unable to put the same strength into his kicks as normal; rather than pulling every punch, he was exerting his full force to take down the bigger robots. Mentally, he also felt he’d been suffering from an affliction, finding it harder to focus or maintain a steady thought stream. He’d run almost entirely on instinct the entire day, and it left him feeling more drained than normal.

“Yeah.” Peter finally managed to reply in a tired, high-strung voice, not sure any other explanation was worth worrying over. “I just wanna get back and sleep.” He shrugged the soreness out of his shoulders as he crawled onto the aircraft after Tony, Steve in tow.

“A cold?” Peter’s other Dad asked, his mechanicalized voice sounding from the speaker outside of his suit.

“Probably.” While he didn’t get sick very often, that seemed to be the most likely offender of his deteriorating state.

“I’ll check you out when we get back.” Bruce promised from the seat he had resided in throughout the mission, serving as an overhead eye and possible back up plan as per usual. “It’s getting closer to flu season.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.” Peter felt irritation spiking in his chest, dragging the mask off of his face that was making him feel much too overheated, his nose growing hot. Seeing the way Bruce retreated, pink flooded his cheeks and his own attitude fell. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound annoyed. I’m tired.”

The crime-fighting super teen rested back against the hard metal side of the aircraft, forcing his eyes to shut. The force of it taking off rattled his head, but at least trying to sleep was better than fidgeting in his seat and waiting for the two hour ride to be over. It was hard, getting his adrenaline-flooded body to relax enough that he wasn’t constantly shifting and uncomfortable. Eventually he succeeded, his mind drifting out of focus enough that he was in a dazed-like state that felt eerily close to being asleep.

It wasn’t until 15 to 30 minutes later- Peter was guessing, based on how absolutely not rested he felt- that he started to drift back awake. Well, he was jolted back to reality mostly. A hand on his shoulder shocked him, pulling his eyes open to look back up into the worried face of Captain America, the helmet no longer in place. It was hard to focus for a moment, golden brown eyes searching distractedly. He felt uncomfortable more so now than when he’d fallen asleep, though this went deeper than just his skin, making his bones feel like they were throbbing. And gods, his stomach was clenching hard, as if he’d throw up any second. Beyond that, he soon realized that every set of eyes in the aircraft were locked onto his pathetically exhausted frame, making him shift awkwardly under their gaze.

“I’m sorry, I--” Peter began to spoke, though he stopped as soon as he heard his own voice. It didn’t sound like him, being much too breathy and feeling higher in pitch. Only then did the connection start to form in his mind that it may not have been a cold affecting his behavior so negatively.

“...your heat.”

Peter managed to tune into the voice speaking to him in a calming tone, though the word only made him shudder. As if on cue, a hot flash rushed over the brunette’s skin, making him shiver from the crawling sensation of his skin.

“I-It’s not due for another 3 weeks.” Peter spoke in a panicked tone, still uncomfortable with the way his voice had changed. He sat upright with wide eyes, suddenly hyper-aware of his current situation. The cramps were growing increasingly upsetting by the second, and while the temperature of his body was certainly higher than normal, he knew he’d have at least another 20 minutes until it reached his peak. His suit felt uncomfortable on his clammy skin and- Oh gods- it was sticking to his thighs.

“Calm down, Peter, it’s okay. Sometimes things are out of sync.” Steve reassured his son, carefully resting a hand atop his hair. He worked to keep the omega’s focus on him, so he wouldn’t notice the blatant, wide-eyed stares from the other Alphas locked in the aircraft with them. He looked up at Tony, who was disengaging his suit pieces to offer assistance to the both of them. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you home.”

The comfort had little effect on Peter’s current mental status. His focus was almost entirely centered around the painful swelling in his abdomen that was creating a hollow sensation throughout his stomach, only for that tunnel to be filled with fire a second later. He’d suffered through heats for years, so of course each symptom wasn’t new to him, but he’d never had one hit during an extremely inconvenient time… such as being surrounded by his closest friends and family, the majority of which were alphas. He could very much sense each one’s prickling skin in the room. Even he had started to smell the pheromones pouring out of his neck, a sick mix of need and utter distress filling the small space.

“Suppressants?” The voice of the beta Bruce sounded far off in his mind, a quiet shuffling mute against the blood rushing in his ears as the man grew closer. A hand rested on his pulse point on his neck, making Peter’s eyes shut in a desperate attempt to cave in on himself while he still had the mental capacity to do so. He hated this. Absolutely hated the feeling of losing control of his thoughts and reactions as he fell into a deeper stage of heat.

“They do jack shit.” Tony answered as he seemed to have finally freed himself of the suit, taking the space just beside his shaking son. He wasn’t as skilled at comforting the smaller teen, usually taking a complete leave during these times to avoid any awkward moments between the two. Obviously, there was no walking out now and leaving him locked in his bedroom to figure this out alone. “His metabolism is too high on a normal basis, and even more so during these points. They burn off quicker than they work, and have the same health consequences.”

Peter wasn’t sure why, or when the whimpers had started to fall off his lips, though he raised a weakening hand to his mouth to cover them. The pain had started to escalate, and Peter felt as if he was being torn in two by a loneliness that could only be sated physically. The hand currently stroking his hair moved down to rub circles on the back of his neck, forcing Peter to relax into Steve’s body in a way he couldn’t fight against. Another wave of heat splashed over his skin, and he could feel the disgusting pool gathering underneath his legs. Slick had already ruined one of his suits. Having to deal with it a second time made his stomach churn.

“Do we have parachutes on this helicopter?” This time, it was Scott speaking. Peter followed their gazes up the other insect in the room, taken aback by his looks. His eyes were reddening on the edges, looking as if he was sitting on the edge of going batshit. The look terrified Peter, but the hormones hitting him that just screamed Take was what made another round of sheer arousal rush over him. He curled tighter into Steve’s side, forcing his mind back under his control as long as he could keep it. “Seriously, I can’t stay in here for another 2 hours. I’ll jump out if I have to.”

“You’re not the only one.” Natasha was currently bent over herself, her head trapped between her hands to force herself not to look. It was clear, by the way her hands gripped, she was fighting her own natural instincts to jump the terrified teenager just feet from her.

Clint was pressed against the furthest wall from the suffering Peter, rubbing his face. “Seriously, kid, cool it with the panic. Heat I can handle. Both are gonna end you up in a bad situation.”

“It is not young Peter’s doing.” Thor defended, looking as if he was barely keeping himself at bay, holding his lips. He was the only one outright staring, unable to tear his gaze away. “It is a natural part of Earthling’s lives.”

Meanwhile, Peter felt that he was actually about to melt into a puddle any second. His heats had been bad before, but at the current moment in time, he felt this was worse than any heat he’d been through. Maybe that was what he thought every time. Maybe it was due to the overwhelming pheromones reacting to his and practically choking him. 5 Alphas. Natasha, Scott, Clint, Steve, and whatever the hell Thor’s Asgardian equivalent was. He was swimming in a pool dominance, and it was quickly suffocating him.

“Pop.” Peter’s voice came out as barely more than a whisper, yet he managed to catch his attention. He was shaking, despite the comforting arm around his shoulders, and at this point, so embarrassed, he wouldn’t have minded passing out altogether. Luck wasn’t about to be on his side, however. It had already gotten this far in its twisted game. “Please.”

The word came out as a frustrated whimper, effectively rattling each of the Alphas already doing their best to contain themselves. Steve’s arm tightened protectively over Peter when he felt the stirring of the others in the aircraft, keeping his eyes locked down on the omega clinging to him. “What do you need?”

“Don’t let go.” Peter grimaced, drawing his arms around himself tightly. His fingernails dug into his sides, and Steve could see just how much he was struggling to keep ahold of himself. “I don’t wanna do anything...w-weird.”

Of course Steve wouldn’t let go. Parent Alphas were always extremely protective over their Omega children in heat. It took an hour, at times, to get Steve to stop waiting outside Peter’s door when his heat first hit. He tightened his arm as if to reaffirm that he wouldn’t leave him, despite the embarrassment clear on his face. Peter’s Want pheromones weren’t skipping over him, and while he recognized it was a natural part of life and he wasn’t able to control his lustful behavior… it was still uncomfortable to see his son moments away from begging for relief.

“We should get him out of the suit.” Tony said, reaching down as he started to tug at his own shirt. “To at least try to bring the fever down. He can wear this.”

“Wait, here.” Clint stood, walking over as he tugged off his t-shirt and dropped it on Steve’s lap. “Alpha scent. Might at least make it more bearable to wear anything at all.”

Steve nodded with an appreciative smile, helping Peter to sit up despite him truly not wanting to. The zipper tugging down instantly relieved some of the pressure on Peter’s body, though, as the spandex started to get pulled off his chest, the scent of the slick became stronger. The humiliated teen held hands over his face, pausing the process of him undressing as he gripped at Tony’s wrist. “I can’t.” he whined, hating the way it sounded on his voice.

“No one cares, Peter.” Tony said to try to settle his distress, sighing thickly. “They’ll close their eyes. We want to get you comfortable before this gets any worse. It’s at least another hour until we get back and you can take care of it.”

This somehow only served to upset Peter’s emotions further, though he pulled his arms through the suit compliantly, much to his parent’s relief. Steve managed to tug Clint’s shirt on over Peter’s small frame, his body twitching in reaction as an overwhelming Alpha scent filtered through his nose. Having so much Alpha scent surrounding him served to lessen the cramps in his stomach momentarily, though he felt another round of fire spreading through his bones as his body was tricked into believing he’d earned his attention. Tony did what he could to quickly pull off the suit, dumping it near the cockpit of the helicopter, as Steve settled Peter back in his arms, and things seemed to calm.

At least for a bit.

Peter had never been in the high of his heat in a room filled with people before. Even the first time, Tony had only stayed around as long as necessary to explain the dozen tools he'd bought him to make it through, then scurried off with a rant to Steve about puberty and mating, and how he definitely wouldn't let any Alpha get near Peter until he was 30. It was a nightmare only few Omegas had to deal with, and Peter was now added to that list.

His head was pounding, and each movement seemed to set fire to his skin. He wasn't sure when he'd automatically tried to pull from Steve's grip In search of a more comfortable spot, but he became hyper aware of hard arms holding him in a hug in place. He was panting, barely able to take a breath, his heart feeling like it was going to rip out of his chest. And fuck the curling of his stomach felt like it'd rip him right in two. He mashed his thighs together as his head pressed back desperately on Steve's shoulder, the trembling growing worse. He felt himself growing near hysterical, needing anything to alleviate the pressure yet fill the emptiness inside of him he could never quite reach. His breathing escalated to soft groans of discomfort, arms struggling to move on their own, though Steve kept them in place.

One of the Avengers had had quite enough of the display to handle.

“I'm about five seconds away from jumping off of the goddamn plane.” Natasha snapped, leaping to her feet and striding toward them in less than a second. “Move, Tony.”

“I'm not letting you touch my 19 year old son.”

“First off, don't even imply that I'd think of that.” A hand found the side of the older man’s head, knocking him effectively out of his seat with a desperation he couldn't combat. The woman settled next to the quivering teenager, ignoring the protective look she received from Steve. “Look, just… this is for both of us.”

Peter's entire body tensed when soft hands found his arms, pulling him to shift directions. He very nearly tugged away when he realized, through the dizzying confusion, who exactly was pulling him away from his Dad, but a low growl in his ear made him freeze up altogether and submit.

“Just relax, kid.” Natasha said smoothly in his ear. He tried to protest, tried to warn her that he really couldn't trust himself, that he needed relief, but a sweet scent filled his nose and knocked him downright delirious.

Slender fingers carded through thick hair as the boys face was pressed into the Alpha's neck, her arms encircling his shaking shoulders in an attempt to calm down his hormones. She felt her own body able to relax when the panic and anxiety reverted back to a pure need , And while that was just as difficult to resist as an unmarked Alpha, she knew she would survive so long as she had her hands lightly stroking comfort into his clammy skin.

Steve could feel his own skin prickling as sharp eyes watched the two protectively, his instincts telling him to be weary though his logic was forcing himself to keep calm. He finally relinquished his seat, standing and giving it away to Natasha as he paced the aircraft with a hand gripping tightly onto his own hair. He could stay calm and handle this. Peter was relaxing, which was good for all of them, and they only had to survive another hour.

Not long after Peter was pushing Natasha off and she was scrambling back when another wave of heat hit the teen, and he covered his lips to suppress sounds of need behind his flushed cheeks.

“Can’t you drop me off?” Peter mumbled miserably, sinking in on himself as he trembled from the heat flash, and the others on the aircraft were careful to give him his space as the small area started to smell entirely of desperate omega. “I’ll call someone to come get me. Or Tony can stay. But I seriously can’t just sit here with so much....” He gestured to the group sitting opposite of him, not even bothering to look at them. Slick covered his thighs, and he was too afraid by then to stand up, humiliation sinking deep into his core.

“Look, Peter, there’s always the front.” Tony offered, jutting a thumb towards the empty cockpit. “It’s enough privacy to get you through the ride, and we’ll get you home as soon as we can.”

“I-I can’t do that.” Peter flushed brightly at the suggestion, gritting his teeth from the sensation that threatened to swallow his conscious mind whole. “I can make it home.”

“Can you?” Tony challenged. While he hadn’t been through heat himself, he had heard many stories about those who had, and he couldn’t even imagine suffering through without even the use of blockers.

The answer he wanted to say was ‘yes,’ but his mind was squeaking out a “No” a second later. He shook his head, finally giving in to his bodily desires as he gripped hard onto the wall and used it to stand on unsteady legs. Steve held out his arms to catch and assist him, even as Peter protested, and he had a hand supporting him from his waist a second later.

“My phone.” Peter requested desperately, his body going into overdrive. “Wade’s voice. I need to call Wade.”

“Wade?” Tony frowned as he did as he was asked, grabbing Peter’s bag to dig through for the device. “Who?”

There was a small gasp from in the cockpit, and Tony looked back to see an incredulous Clint staring at them.

“Wade Wilson.” Peter whimpered in exasperation and impatience, reaching for his phone. “Deadpool. I don't need a lecture, just call him. I need his voice.”

Tony stared at him. Steve stared at him. Everyone was in slight shock, and only then did Peter's heat muddled brain realize he had just confessed to associating with the Alpha his family definitely didn't approve of.

“What?” Tony demanded, snapping Peter's phone down in an instant with a glare. “I'm going to fucking kill him.”

“Dad, not now.” Peter grimaced, clutching his stomach as his legs continued to threaten to give out. If he hadn't had powers, they might have a while ago.

“You're seeing Wade?” Bruce blanched.

“No, Oh my god. He just helps me during heat and--” Peter made an annoyed sound as he bit his lip, trying a hand to grab his phone again. “Please. ”

The tone of his desperation drug Tony from his initial annoyance, and he heaved a sigh as he walked towards the cockpit while searching for Wade's number. Steve helped Peter into the front area, setting him down gently on the seat. “We’re not done discussing this.” Tony grumbled as he held the phone to his ear, causing Steve to nod his silent agreement. “Because what the hell were you thinking, trusting yourself with him, of all people--?”

“Glad you decided to call, honey. Was starting to think you’d gotten tired of me.”

The sound of Wade's voice on the receiver made Peter's eyes snap up to Tony, his breath catching in his chest. Tony threw another suspicious look at the boy he’d make sure to thoroughly scold in a week, though for now his only focus was doing what he could to help with the symptoms. “Yeah, great to talk to you, too.” Tony grumbled in return, running a hand through his hair.

There was a pause on the line, and Peter looked like he would crawl out of his skin any second with anticipation.

“Didn’t think I’d be getting a call from the Man of Iron himself.” Wade sounded overjoyed, though confused, through the phone. “Not that this isn’t a huge fucking honor that I’m totally gonna write about in my diary later, but why’d you call me through Peter’s cell?”

“I was asked to call you for him, as he’s busy right now.” Tony gave a sharp look at his son, not wanting to relinquish the phone to him. Was he being a good parent by keeping him from the murderous man twice his age? Or a better parent by giving him the phone and granting him at least one comfort? He couldn’t decide. “Apparently you have more history than we know about. And you are definitely coming to the tower later to talk about it.”

Another silence, though Peter could practically sense Wade’s anxiety from where he sat.

“Sounds like a date.” Wade returned with a nervous, but playful, laughter. “I totally don’t mind talking, again, huge honor, but where is the little Peter-Pie?”

If Peter wasn’t currently squirming and ready to claw his own skin off, he would have been embarrassed by the nickname being used to his parents. Instead, he just stared helplessly as Steve snatched the phone away when a round of curses were layered on Tony’s lips. “Deadpool-- Er Wade, Peter is having a difficult time, and he was asking us to call you, as you seem to be the only thing that can calm him down. While this is wildly inappropriate and Tony’s promise will be kept for a discussion, please just help him survive the hour until we get to New York.”

“Got it, Cap’n.”

“Alright. We’ll be in the back, Peter. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this.” Steve sighed as he ran another hand through the shaking boy’s hair, and with that, the two finally made their way back into the main area of the aircraft.

Peter’s fingers practically smashed the phone when he finally had it relinquished into his grip. He drew it up against his ear, desperate to hear the Alpha’s voice that his body was aching for. “Wade?”

”There he is.” Peter could practically hear Wade’s smile, and the fact both relaxed him and made a shiver run up his spine. ”That was weird. I didn’t expect you to tell them we were dating or something. I thought you had made it pretty clear I was just a helping hand.”

“That’s exactly what I told them.” Peter breathed out quietly as he closed his eyes, biting his lip to combat the warmth snaking its fingers to wrap around his stomach.

”Not trying to get me killed now, are you, sweetum--?”

Peter opened his eyes again at the sudden cut off, swallowing hard as he waited for him to finish his sentence. Even if the utter desire in his body couldn’t be comforted, his voice helped to alleviate some of the pressure, and give him a distraction. “What?”

”Petey, are you in heat?”

The question made his stomach churn, and he then realized he’d been breathing rather heavily into the receiver, which he backed away from his face. His flushed cheeks felt all the darker, leaving his voice to come out all the more weakly. “...no.”

”Shit. Where are you?”

“On a plane. Heading back from a mission.” Peter ran a hand over his forehead dampened by sweat, burning under his touch. “It’s not important. Just keep talking.” He whined, dropping his head back against the cold window that helped to cool his fever in the slightest.

”Are you getting off on my voice? Naughty boy.” The smirk curling in Wade’s tone would almost be enough to make Peter hang up altogether if he didn’t need this desperately.

“Sh-Shut up. No. Wade, I’ve been through enough, just-- nng.” Peter clamped a hand over his mouth when the sound fell from his lips, arm having lightly brushed the painful hard on tucked into his boxers. “I just need something.” He whispered pitifully, the shakiness growing worse. “I need you. You’re too far away.”

”Okay. Hold tight. I’m on the street right now, and the fact that you called me just to hear my fucking voice because you were horny is turning meon.” There was the sound of scuffling, and Peter processed the sound of running from the other end. The fact would make him laugh, if he wasn’t holding onto his every word like lifelines. A door shut on the other end, and it sounded as if Wade had practically slammed into a wall. Where he was, Peter didn’t know, nor cared. ”Sorry for making you wait.” A zipper dug out on the other end of the line, and Peter’s breath hitched. ”Did you hear that?”

Peter nodded numbly, before realizing he couldn’t be seen, and his faltering voice sounded a second later. “Yeah.”

”I bet you’re covered in slick right now. I love when you’re in heat and your thighs are just dripping--”

“Wade!” Peter turned a head back over his shoulder, though he couldn’t see anything past the curve of the wall to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation. “I-I’m here with my Dads.”

”I’m not on speaker phone. They’re not going to hear.” Wade’s voice was teasing, and Peter could only swallow in response. ”Besides, this is all for you. I’m here just to make you feel good.”

“You can’t say things like that.” Peter groaned out, digging the heel of his palm between his eyebrows to calm his pounding head. “I need you so bad. I’m gonna go crazy. There’s so many Alphas here, and I can’t use blockers… and…”

”There’s one Alpha.” Wade’s voice lowered, and the way he purred had Peter tensing a moment later in natural submission. ”And that’s me, baby boy. I’m the only one you need to focus on. The second you step off that helicopter, I’m taking you to your room and taking care of you. But for now I can’t physically be there, so listen to my voice and try to relax, okay?”

��I-I...okay.”

”Okay.” Wade repeated. ”Close your eyes. Spread your legs. It’ll probably feel way better when you do that. Not so tight, yeah? That’s right. Are you sitting down? Press your feet on the edge of the chair and pull your knees apart. I wish I could see you right now. I’m sure you look so sexy.”

Peter drew his legs apart with effort, air rushing between his thighs to combat the heat that had been blooming between them. Sitting there he felt vulnerable, but Wade was right. The curve of his stomach at least helped to calm the cramps, and his thighs weren't sticking together uncomfortably. The scent of slick rushed to his nose as he grimaced, fighting the temptation to rip his boxers off altogether and slip fingers down to the source.

Peter was panting into the phone by then, his eyes closed as he was instructed. He tried to focus entirely on Wade's voice, though the quivering of his abdomen was hard to ignore.

“That's a good omega.” A pause. “I can practically hear you in pain, honey. There's no way you're going to last this another hour. No one's watching. Why don't you just touch yourself?”

Peter's eyes were open again in an instant when he felt his hand twitching to comply with his suggestion . “They're still only a few feet away.” he tumbled on his words, looking at the glass to try to search for their reflection. “I just wish you were here to--”

”Touch yourself.”

Peter barely had enough self control to suppress himself this long, and that resolve completely dissolved with the growl of an Alpha. It was easy to obey the order, his fingers finally pushing aside the top of his boxers in order to grasp his aching erection, the simple pleasure of doing so making him want to scream. His slender fingers quietly worked their way up his shaft, his body tensing and shivering as soft sounds danced over the microphone.

“Wade…”

”Gonna make you feel real good.” Wade hummed, and from what Peter could hear, was possibly stroking his own hard on wherever it was he had hidden. ”I'm gonna lay you out on the bed for me, and make sure you're comfortable. Rub the tenseness out of your body, starting with your toes, and I know you're going to be begging for me to touch you, but I want you to be completely relaxed before I spend the next 5 days with you in bed.”

Peter shivered as he picked up the pace with his hand. Wade chuckled on the other end, and shifted to make whatever wall he was leaning on creak.

“Sounds that good? I can't wait to taste you. I love how fucking sweet you are, Petey. I could do it for hours. Would you like that? Make you cum with my tongue until you’re just begging for my knot, but I’ll hold your hips down until I’m satisfied.”

“God.” Peter’s head dug back into the seat, his body locking up in satisfaction. He was so horny, so very deliciously lost in his need for pleasure, that even the way Wade spoke made vibrations echo up his spine. “I-I can’t--”

”And when I can’t take just listening anymore, I’m gonna pull those thighs right onto my shoulders and take you. Sugar, you’re always so tight. Gonna make it nice and slow at first, the way you like. But by the end of the night, all of New York is gonna hear you screaming for me.” And then Wade was panting, and Peter could hear the steady rhythm of beating off, and the thought that it was all for and because of Peter practically had his orgasm rushing over him on the spot. ”Come for me, baby boy. I want to hear you say my name.”

“Alpha..” Peter shot a hand up to cradle his mouth as if he was wounded, his back arching as a hard work of his hips sent his mind into haywire.

”Come for me.”

The electricity shot up from his toes, and came coursing through his body a second later. His hips jerked forward towards his hand, and he really didn’t have much thought or time to hide the sobbing of pure relief that came tumbling off his lips. His stomach quivered in appreciation, and he merely collapsed into the chair, breathing labored and his heart pounding in struggled exhaustion.

”I would love to see the look on your parents face right now.”

Peter blinked blearily up at the windshield, flashes of blue overtaking his visit. He suddenly became keenly aware of where he was, slowly edging back down into reality as the high wore away. And then he was blushing, because even if the cramps had worn off temporarily, there was absolutely no way he hadn’t finished discreetly when Wade had been expertly jerking around with his mind.

“I think there’s a really high chance you definitely don’t want to.” Peter mumbled as he carefully cleaned his hand off on his already dirtied boxers, grabbing the phone again. He started feeling able to breathe once more, and the feeling of no nullified pressure and pain greatly outweighed the embarrassment he’d feel later when facing the other Avengers. He knew he’d at least have half an hour until his heat picked back up, and he could likely last the last half hour until they returned to the tower and he could escape to his bedroom. “You might just wanna sneak in at night, and avoid their blow ups.”

”There is absolutely no way in this hell that I’m not gonna be waiting in your bedroom when you get back.” Wade chuckled, and Peter could hear him zipping up as a toilet flushed. ”Prepare that sweet Spider ass, Petey.”

“That’s your job.” Peter breathed back in return, a small grin slipping over his lips as he looked down at his lap. “Gonna try to sleep before it hits again. And I’m definitely showering first when I get back, before we do anything.”

”You say that now…~”

“Bye, Wade.”

”See you soon, baby boy.”

---

And though Wade showed up to Peter’s bedroom 20 minutes late with a repulsor beam wound gaping in his stomach that was quickly knitting itself together, the rest of his heat went fantastic.

[spaceybot]

Same Old Tragedies

A conservation mission goes wrong, but out of this failure comes a surprise and a promise. 

WARNING: there's a very brief paragraph where an animal dies, along with some mention of blood. I consider it pretty short and not overly gore-y but if you'd like to skip it just go to the end of the first chunk (marked by the lines)!

Also warning for whiny, "I'm not a kid" Operator who can't deal with too much frustration or else they'll explode internally. 

They’ve never seen anything quite so ugly, though the Grineer are a very, very close second.

The Operator pauses. Or maybe it's the Infested.

But still this thing was just...different. The Infested and the Grineer were the result of artificial mutations. Their bodies were forcefully manufactured, rearranged and then spit out, with the final product being nothing but obedient flesh with violence as its only instinct. Parasites, clones, it made no difference what they were. The two were both born to fester, kill, and increase their numbers, keeping up the same industrious pace until something came along to end the cycle.

This bolarola was just born looking like that.

“What a marvelous looking fellow. Quite unusual. I trust you’ll bring it in safely?”  Biz says, his voice barely audible from their comm. “We’ll take a better look at it up close.”

From their faraway perch they watch it anxiously pop its head out, scanning the horizons for something unknown. The Business doesn’t expect a response but still they make an affirmative noise in acknowledgment. The Operator readies the tranq.  

This bolarola was a lucky find. No need to pull out any equipment or call for it. Hell, they weren’t even following any footprints, nor were they looking to bring a critter in to Biz today. But as soon as they had spotted it and it’s “unusual” (as Biz had put it) visage, they let him know to ready the transportation.  

This is as close as they could get to it.  Any closer and the Operator is sure they’d have scared it away, what with its current state of distress and its hyper vigilance. They could barely get a clear shot without it slipping in and out of sight. Suddenly, its head stays up five seconds longer than before, fiercely pointed in a direction, straining to hear more. It bristles at something in the distance. All of the tension from before dissipates, giving way to...aggression?

The Operator is almost taken aback when they emerge from the ground fully, stalking an unseen threat. Not typical behavior for bolarolas, they note. Experience has taught them that much. Maybe it’s hunting for food. Why else would it act so predatory? It produces a furious screech that echoes throughout the Orb Vallis, one that suddenly brings the Operator to their feet.

They take a few cautious steps forward, straining to hear.

After half a second, its scream is met with the distant noise of Corpus chatter, rapidly growing closer and angrier in response to the creature’s own call to violence.

In their scope they spot a small party of Corpus soldiers on patrol, or at least they were on patrol, until they had stumbled onto the bolarola’s territory. The Operator curses under their breath, stowing away the tranq and leaping down from their perch.  

“Outworlder, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”  They reply before cutting off the feed entirely.

The bolarola, now just a medium-sized speck without the scope, shrivels up briefly in preparation to tuck into defensive mode. They don’t know why it brings a relieved smile to their hidden face.

“That’s it. Roll away, little guy.” They say to themselves, sprinting towards the scene. It’s not even that little. In fact, it’s kind of large and puffy which isn't that uncommon for their species. Probably the distance distorting their perception of size.

They fire a couple rounds into the air in an attempt to frighten it away from the soldiers. Send it running somewhere else. After all, both Biz and the Operator would rather have an escaped creature than a dead one.

But it never flees. The stubborn thing doesn’t even hear them. Instead it charges full force at the Corpus on some sort of suicidal and instinctive whim. Their heart drops instantaneously. They’re sure their warframe can feel it too because their energy shifts in response to the Operator’s sudden and steep change in emotion, the two always remaining in sync with the other, balancing when one falters. The subtle change picks the Operator right up again and reminds them of the current situation.

They pick up their speed, practically flying towards the bolarola with all the precision and skill that their warframe lends them in maneuvering the snowy terrain. The creature begins readying for a fight in earnest and it is already closing the distance between itself and the soldiers.

“ No, no, no .”

The Operator opens fire from a hopeless distance with a weapon not suited to long range combat as they sprint. The sound of bullets aimlessly whizzing by catches some of the Corpus’ attention. The creature by now has launched its own full assault on the soldiers. It’s a mere nuisance, a distraction to them in comparison to the threat the Operator poses. This isn't right. The bolarola was never meant to attack, only to run away and defend itself. All it’s got are its size and digging claws working in its favor.

By the time the Operator has arrived the majority of the Corpus have locked their attention to them, shooting and shouting. Only one is incapacitated, the one the bolarola has chosen to direct its own attentions to. It uses its weight to leap up and knock the soldier flat on his back. He lets out a shout, struggling uselessly and pinned down by the large creature. His attempts to dislodge his arm throws snow everywhere.

The Operator is too occupied returning fire with the enemy but out of the corner of their vision they see it unfold.

The bolarola raises one great claw, swooping it up in preparation to slash its victim.

In the countdown before the creature lands the blow, the pinned Corpus manages to press his weapon to the creature’s belly.

He fires. And fires.

The vicious attack never comes down, instead all the Operator hears is a strangled cry, a sickeningly wet noise, and the muted thud of the bolarola’s body falling limply on top of the soldier’s. A red flower begins blooming from the corpse, the center crimson and the edges pink with flecks of color scattered haphazardly around. The fluids leak onto the soldier and finally onto the snow, staining it.

He pushes the thing off him with ill regard, turning to face the Operator who is burning with too much hate to care happens next. Not when they already know how this fight is going to end.

The Operator leaves no one standing after that.  

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

They’ve been in a lot of fights. This one was by no means large or significant or difficult but they feel as if they had just come home from a long-standing war, defeated. The residual frustration and anger is still boiling away inside them, scrambling their senses. Their very own void energy, dark and tumultuous, is intertwined with their warframe’s and they swear it’s almost too much buzzing inside them. A strained sigh escapes them like hot air hissing out a vent.

They screwed up.

The Operator spares a glance at the bolarola’s corpse. It’s just as odd looking in death as it was in life. They let out a breathless laugh at that, a laugh that contained no trace of humor.

“Sorry, little guy.” They say out loud to the fallen creature as if it would make it all better.

They screwed up, and it’s in their nature to linger on their various failures but they can’t afford to. Not right now. They just need to pick themselves up, get back to Fortuna, and use that leftover turmoil on something productive. A mission, perhaps. Save the brooding for when they’re alone.

The comm flashes and beeps wildly.

Biz.

The Operator briefly considers ignoring him until they’ve collected themselves. Another sigh slips out. No need to worry him like that.

They reconnect to the Solaris United’s private channel. It takes a brief moment for the connection to clear up but Biz doesn’t wait for it to clear to begin speaking. His voice is full of static.

“What--happened..are...alright--?” Are the bits the Operator is able to make out. They don’t say anything. The static settles down while Biz’s concern heightens in an inverse relationship.  

“No...not really. It’s dead, Biz. It’s...I--”

They take a deep breath to stop and plan their words, trying to figure out how to explain the situation. Okay. They’ve got it now:

What comes out next is an almost incoherent string of half-sentences, tainted by frustration and their own inability to fully clear their head. When their voice crescendos to a slightly louder volume than before, they hear Biz’s voice again, clear as day and always conveying some meaning when the Operator fails to do either.

“Slow down. Let’s start from the beginning.” He prompts. The Operator stifles an irritated noise.

They fall into a cycle. He listens, says a few words to defuse the Operator and make sense of what had unfolded, and then starts over.

“It just ran out and attacked them, unprovoked. A bolarola . It’s dead.” They’re finally able to say.

Biz is silent on the other end. The quiet practically invites their emotions to bubble over again. And so throwing their hands up, the Operator gestures to the area around them.  

“I should have scouted out the area first or at least tranqed it right away. This could have ended differently!” They grate out, eyeing the bloodied bolarola. Why are they so upset? Their volume raises again on the start of the sentence but there he is once more, hushing them.

“ Shh, shh . Easy, now.” Biz murmurs. “What’s done is done. No use in speculating about what could have been.”

The Operator almost grins at the gentle way he speaks, how he almost always speaks. They can imagine this being how he talks to the frightened and wounded creatures they bring in for him to treat. He doesn’t even sound angry. They’d have felt better if he had reprimanded them but the harsh words never come. Finally, he speaks up again in a tone that lets the Operator know that the conversation is coming to an end, or so they thought.

“I would ask you to turn in for the day, but there is something I’d like for you to do.”

“What is it?” They ask with rapt attention. A task for them to divert their energy to? They’re desperate for a change in subject.

“You said the bolarola was unusually aggressive. I have...a theory, if you will. Search the area.”

Their shoulders drop a little.

They prepare to ask for clarification, but no sooner had Biz finished speaking did the Operator spot two small creatures emerging slowly out of nowhere, approaching the fallen bolarola. They were near invisible as a result of their size, and an odd texture stretched over their not quite matured hide. Most telling however was their odd color: the beginning’s of their mother.

Where they are lime and lilac, the dead bolarola is a deeper green and purple.

There was no mistaking what they were and what had just happened to them.

The Operator would need Biz to send in that transportation after all.

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

“Ah. There you are.”

The Business hasn’t even turned around yet to confirm his suspicions. He just seems to sense that it is indeed them and somehow he’s always right. They can see that his hands are full, wrapped tight around a bundle: a rough towel, acting as a blanket. The Operator takes two steps forward. The working hours are over and nearly everyone has packed up for the day, all except Biz.

“I could use your help in one last task for today.” He says, idly and just barely rocking the contents of the blanket in a tiny swaying motion. Their arms are already open, awkwardly waiting to accept the two bundled baby bolarolas so that Biz could get other supplies out. When Biz transfers the blanket to them, they almost don’t notice the two little heads poking out of the blanket to stare at them with curious eyes. They smile, but all the bolarola’s see is an impassive, alien mask bearing down on them. They retreat back to the safety of the towel.

Their spines are not yet fully hardened but if the Operator had touched it in their true form it likely would have felt unpleasant and strange. It doesn’t stop them from a brushing their warframe’s hand in a crescent motion around the circumference of the animal’s small face.The gesture of affection seems to confuse it. It burrows even deeper to escape it.

“Surprisingly, they’ve calmed down quite a bit. If you hadn’t found them they’d have died out there. Motherless, and as nervous as they are.”

Biz eyes them with some measure of fondness, even if it is tinged with a little bit of sadness. They may not be able to return to the Vallis, being so young. No one has taught them anything of what it takes to survive out there. He has two syringes full of a white-colored nutrient in one fist and another blanket in the other. After a bit of shuffling, Biz has one wrapped up bolarola and the Operator has another along with a syringe. He goes about teaching them how to feed it  without spooking it, but there’s no need. The little thing is eager to eat and laps it all up.

Biz’s attentions shuffle from his own creature, to the Operator’s, and then to the Operator themselves, as if he were tending to all three at once and checking in from time to time.  The Operator breaks the silence with a barely muffled laugh. Biz shifts his gaze over, asking them a silent question with the simple act.

“They’re not even cute when they’re babies…” They explain. How is that possible? They set down the empty syringe and lightly drag a finger down the back of its spines. “Such an ugly thing.”  

Biz perks up at that, shooting them a scandalized look (albeit it with a robotic face in the way) before pulling his bolarola a little closer to his chest  (albeit with a rig in the way).

“Don’t listen to them, little one.” He tells the baby in a softened tone, lifting it to towards his face.

“It’s true, though.”

“Hush.”

No one talks after that until well after the babies are done eating and are on the verge of falling asleep. They speak in low voice, afraid to disturb the young ones from slumber. They’ve had a rough day, to say the least.

“Sorry about the mother, Biz. And...I didn’t mean to freak out on you either...so, uh, sorry about that too.”

For some reason, Biz chuckles at them, as if their sullenness amuses him. It silences them right away. But he isn’t mocking them, rather it serves as a comforting noise. They stop as if they have to listen to it, as if they need to hear that reassurance like their life depended on it.

“You forget I’ve trained Little Duck since she was a young girl. You’re very tame in comparison. But let’s keep that between us, hm?”

He re-adjusts his grip on the bolarola before speaking again.

“And though it is unfortunate to think about, if you had saved the mother we wouldn’t have known about her little ones until it was too late to return to them. In a way I suppose this is the better outcome. One life, for two others.” Biz sounds troubled, but the moment is brief. He frees up a hand and rests it on their elbow, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You did well, my friend. Don’t dwell on what went wrong.”

His voice is warm,  and it contains the patience of a man who has seen too much to lose it easily. “You’ve had enough for one day. So have these two.”

"Yeah." They mutter. "I guess."

The blanket softly vibrates and rustles as the bolarola chitters in its sleep. It draws a small laugh out of the duo. When the moving finally settles down he throws in his final piece:

“Take care of yourself, Outworlder.”

A hint of sternness laces his voice but that’s it. That was the reprimand the Operator had been hoping for. Yet there’s no harshness to it, instead it is overpowered by sincerity. They give him a tired smile in response.

“Trying to.”

The Business says nothing in response, gazing fondly, distantly, at the three beings placed in his charge. All three were victims of bad luck, grown up far too fast, and they’ll live out the rest of their lives suffering the consequences of that. It’s all the same old tragedies that Biz has had the misfortune of seeing a thousand times, all with different players. The Tenno in front of him is by no means unique, in this regard. But it matters little. Because as long as he’s around?

He’ll be looking out for them. Always. 

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 2: the waiting game

Lucas is going through an emotional turmoil, is forced to spend more time around Eliott and finally gets a reply from his blackmailer. In short, this week is exhausting.

(a/n: there’s a brief description of a panic attack and a fragment quoted from an article about a homophobic crime. the scene starts with “Lucas can’t sleep.”)

Lucas has stared at those pictures so much since Friday, he’s already memorised every single detail. It’s ingrained into his mind.

The first picture only shows glimpses of Lucas, hidden behind the person devouring him with his mouth. It’s too much, although nothing is fully in the open. There are two dudes making out, but everything seems blurry and covered. He could say that it’s only his look-alike. Unfortunately, in this case, with the second picture explicitly presenting Lucas in a compromising situation, the possibility of claiming it’s not him is non-existent. He wants to puke, thinking of the expression of pure bliss on his face when the guy was kissing his neck while his hand was groping Lucas’ ass.

It’s undeniably him. Anyone looking at it could say it’s him.

The worst part is that he has no idea what’s next. The person who sent those pictures has been keeping him on edge since fucking Friday. Almost three days. Besides sending messages, he tried calling them, but there was no answer. This thing is weighing down on him and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the matter. All the while this person must be having plenty of fun. Holding this over his head and knowing he’s completely helpless.

He can’t even tell anyone about it. He’s not ready to come out, he doesn’t want to do it. He holds his breath, thinking about how in this situation he might end up not having another choice; after all, they aren’t keeping those pictures for entertainment purposes only.

Lucas is so fucked.

He gets a notification. Initially, he hopes that the person has decided to stop torturing him with the radio silence. But no, of course not. If things are bad, they have to go fully to shit for him. Because lo and behold, Eliott has just been added to the group chat Lucas and the boys have had for God knows how long now.

A few seconds pass and the welcoming messages start flowing. Lucas groans and mutes the chat. That’s what he needs right now. More stress.

He tosses the phone to the side and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, up until it hurts.

What is he supposed to do now? He needs to go to school tomorrow morning and unlike last week, he not only will have to bear spending time with the Invader, but also he won’t be able to stop fretting over those pictures and whoever took them.

He moves his hands off his face and blinks a couple of times. If he could, he’d just stay in his room forever. He wouldn’t have to face any of these problems and worry about what will be.

“Lucas!”

He snaps out of his daze and turns towards the door, which is still closed.

“What?”

“Manon is calling, do you want to come out?” Mika asks, his voice muffled from the other side, but audibly eager.

God, what a situationally ironic question.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Lucas says, dragging himself out of his bed.

He comes to the living room, where Mika and Lisa are nestled on the couch, holding a phone between each other. Mika pats the place next to himself and Lucas joins them.

The moment his face comes into the view, he sees how much of a mess he is, but he chooses to ignore it in favour of greeting Manon.

“Hey, Lucas. Did they wake you up?” she asks, beaming at him. Lucas shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay,” he claims, hoping that Manon can’t see his distress.

“Is everything fine? How’s school?”

“Yeah, it’s good and–“

“Our Lucas here,” Mika throws his arm over Lucas’ shoulder, bringing him closer, “just doesn’t care about school.”

Lucas frowns at him.

“I do.” He tries to escape Mika’s embrace but gives up after two tries. The guy is persistent.

“He literally got a concussion the first day he came back to school after being sick for a week.”

“It was PE,” Lucas mumbles like it explained everything.

“Of course it was.” Mika winks at him as if they shared a secret. Lucas sighs in exasperation.

“How’s London?” he asks Manon instead, letting her take the lead in the conversation.

He’s sick of things regarding him. He needs something distracting and there’s nothing better to relax one’s mind than listening to someone talking about British museums.

 ***

 It’s Monday and there’s still no answer on his phone. It’s Monday and he’s yet again on the schoolyard before the first bell rings. It’s Monday and Eliott is back.

This time, Lucas doesn’t have half the mind to be petty or rude. He distanced himself from the conversation that’s going on between his friends and Eliott, but unlike last time, he just doesn’t feel like engaging in anything with anyone altogether. He’s not even trying to pay attention to their words, looking around at other people instead.

He’s detached and there’s a lump in his throat each time someone as much as glances at him. He tries to decipher whether any of that has some meaning. Whether the person who’s just passed by him knows his deepest secret and is currently laughing at him.

There’s that tension in his muscles every time someone’s eyes land on him for a second too long and his brain is convinced it’s them. The rational part of him tells him that it can’t be every single person, though. That he can’t let his fears get the best of him because soon enough he’ll start suspecting his friends as well.

He’s this close to running the fuck away.

But what if this person’s plan is to come up to him? To humiliate him in real life, in front of everyone? He needs to stay aware of his surroundings.

Lucas checks his phone again, but other than some Bible verses from his mom, his inbox is completely empty. He inhales sharply, his eyes glued to the screen. Another minute passes.

And then another one and before he knows it, someone is shaking his shoulder.

He snaps his head up, ready to face the blackmailer.

He deflates upon seeing it’s the boys, all of them looking at him in worry, even Eliott for some reason. Arthur’s hand is gently rubbing over his shoulder.

“Hey, man. Everything okay? You look very out of it,” Arthur says, his tone cautious.

Seeing how all of them are looking at him like he’s a spooked animal, something tells Lucas he really isn’t hiding things that well.

He gulps and in panic, his eyes move over to Yann.

“It’s family stuff,” Lucas blurts out and Yann nods in understanding.

“What about your family?” Basile asks, apparently not getting the memo to drop it.

“Let’s go,” Yann says, jerking his head towards the entrance. His eyes don’t leave Lucas’ face for a second. He’s grateful for Yann being considerate, but also he’s got a feeling Yann isn’t completely convinced.

Well, can you blame him.

They get going, Lucas falling slightly behind. They walk into the building.

He can feel his friends glancing towards him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it in any way. If he doesn’t make a fuss, they will forget about it. Lucas just needs to remain composed and next time work on schooling his expression. He knows they aren’t going to push him if he doesn’t want to talk. So he has to pretend everything is perfectly fine. He can do it.

He almost falls onto his face, but something stops him. Or rather someone, if fingers clutching gently on his biceps are an indication. Lucas looks up and to his utter surprise, it’s Eliott. Not too far away, the boys have stopped walking and are turning towards the scene.

In a moment of fear, Lucas brushes Eliott’s hands off himself. As if he was burned. With how quickly he moves away, he nearly trips over his own feet again.

Eliott’s arms are still extended in front of him, sadly hanging in the air, but soon enough he must realise what’s happened because he tucks his hands into his pockets and looks away from Lucas.

“Next time watch your steps,” he says quietly.

Right after that, he leaves. Lucas’ eyes follow his back up until the moment he disappears around the corner, his steps hurried and shoulders hunched.

“The dude saved your life and you’re still an asshole,” Basile comments close to Lucas’ ear and it’s then that he realises the boys have come closer.

“I’ll have to apologize for your behaviour again,” Arthur whines, propping his elbow up on Lucas’ shoulder and leaning against him.

“You don’t have to,” he mutters under his breath and hears a snort.

“Yeah, no, I do. I want him to stay around,” Arthur retorts and ruffles Lucas’ hair.

God, they are so far up Eliott’s ass they’ll be able to see the light coming in from the other side sooner than later.

“Whatever,” Lucas says, swatting Arthur’s hand away.

 ***

 Lucas can’t sleep. Of course, he can’t. He keeps tossing and turning around but to no avail. His mind just can’t keep calm. He feels way too awake at 3 a.m. in the morning.

Reaching out for his phone and unlocking it in the dark might as well be a testament to yet another sleepless night. What else is he supposed to do, though? He needs some kind of distraction. And if it goes fine, he may as well fall asleep while watching something online.

He searches for a relaxing compilation on YouTube and lets his brain turn off.

Around fifteen minutes pass, but there’s something gnawing at him and he isn’t able to stay still. He changes his position a few times, his legs are bouncing and he’s fidgety. He’s staring off into the distance instead of focusing on whatever is displayed on the screen. His heart is beating fast all of sudden, his stomach in knots.

Lucas inhales sharply and exits the YouTube app. He opens the browser and quickly types in homophobic attacks in France in 2018, then hits enter. He hesitates a moment before opening the first link. There are pictures and a description of the crime. Lucas gulps, his eyes skimming over the article. His palms are sweaty.

He goes to another website talking about homophobic accidents. He reads and reads, and reads, his brain becoming number with each word. Violence and hate are astounding. There’s a piece about a gay couple being assaulted, a transgender woman who was murdered and much more. So many names next to the information of what was done to them.

–they hit me in the face, all over the body, everywhere – at one point, my head hit the rear window like a bullet […] I thought I was going to die–

The letters become blurry, the screen keeps shaking and his breaths become shallow. Before he knows it there are tears streaming down his cheeks. Relentlessly. The only thing he can hear is the loud beating of his heart.

He’s gasping for air, he’s drowning.

Lucas loses the grip on his phone and it falls down between the sheets. He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe. He holds his head between his palms, tries to block out the aggressive pounding even though it’s impossible. It only grows in sound.

He’s choking and he’s trembling. He can’t see, he can’t speak, only whimper. He’s lost all of the control over himself.

…

Then;

There are arms around him and lips pressed to his temple. There are whispers and hands rubbing over his tensed muscles. Grounding presence and the counting of breaths. Tight embrace and soon enough, a glass of water. His drenched hair pushed back from his forehead and Mika’s concerned eyes.

It comes with great effort, but eventually, Lucas is aware of his surroundings and he coughs. He blinks a couple of times, trying to inhale and exhale without sobbing. He realises his grip around Mika’s middle may be too tight and he loosens it. His body keeps shaking.

He slightly withdraws from Mika, not far enough to lose the body contact, but so he can properly see his face.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Lucas rasps out and the tears well up in his eyes again. He tries to hold them in and he sniffs.

“It’s okay, kitten. I’m here,” Mika says as he squeezes Lucas’ shoulder. “Want to tell me what caused this?” he asks, his tone gentle.

Lucas’ chin wobbles and he bites down on his lower lip, unable to utter any more words. He shakes his head and buries it in Mika’s chest, his breathing becoming ragged once again. Mika coos at him and brings him closer, starting to rock them back and forth. Letting Lucas cry his heart out.

It’s the first time he’s consoled like that and briefly, Lucas thinks it’s nice. Not having to suffer alone.

 ***

 Exhausted. Lucas is utterly exhausted after last night, but he tries not to think about it. There are other pressing matters at the moment. Or so he tells himself.

Although Eliott hasn’t shown up in the morning, he’s still arrived at their table during lunch. And seeing how unbothered he seems to be, Lucas figures out that Arthur really has apologized to him. As if there was anything to say sorry for in the first place. Ugh, that makes Lucas quite irritated.

He’s sitting next Yann and Basile, all the while Arthur and Eliott are on the other side of the table. Everyone’s eating from their plates, Basile being the only one trying to make a conversation. But when isn’t he, to be honest?

Lucas isn’t very focused on what’s going on, his fork mindlessly moving the food left on his plate around. There’s laughter coming from the boys when Basile says something stupid. Lucas’ reactions are half-hearted at best, though, his mind too far away at the moment.

He’s developed a new hobby. Thinking of all the possible scenarios if the pictures get leaked. He’s already come up with his friends rejecting him, the school kicking him out and people picking on him in various levels of horrible. It’s fun, everyone should try it. Headache, anxiety, and the feeling of complete defeat guaranteed.

He gulps. God, his breath is unsteady at the mere prospect of someone hurting him for who he is. He knows it happens. He hasn’t stayed up late reading all those articles and freaked out for nothing. People hate anyone who’s like him. So many would want him dead.

He’s terrified. He doesn’t want the truth to come out. Lucas hasn’t even accepted himself. He can’t use the word for himself, let alone have someone use it while describing him. He isn’t ready for the world to find out.

He wants to stay in the closet, where everything is safe and no one wants to kill him. He can’t be brave like Mika. He isn’t able to imagine himself embracing that part of himself. For God’s sake, he only kisses boys when he’s wasted enough not to remember anything the next day.

This situation is so hopeless. He can only stress over it. Lucas feels like he’d literally do anything for these pictures to disappear forever. He can play straight for the rest of his life if it meant that no one would find out. He’s fucking desperate at this point and he doesn’t know how long he’ll withstand being kept in the dark. It’s been only a few days and he hasn’t been able to think about anything else but this.

Lucas pushes his plate away and buries his face in his elbows. He hates himself. He should have just gone and made out with a girl. He was so high he wouldn’t have minded it at the time anyway and he wouldn’t be in such messed up situation now. Just his fucking luck.

He wants to turn his thoughts off, get some fucking sleep. Turn back time and never leave that damn house to make out with someone. A nameless stranger is about to ruin his life. What’s even funnier is that the guy will be untouched since the only thing one can see of him is his back. It’s Lucas’ face on full display. It’s Lucas who’s going to pay.

Someone kicks him under the table and Lucas sluggishly raises his head. He blinks slowly, his hand going up to his hair to push it away from his forehead.

“Earth to Lucas.” Arthur waves a hand in front of his face. “You’re like a zombie.”

“Yeah, man. Are you alright?” Basile asks.

Lucas clears his throat and sits straighter. “I haven’t slept well tonight.” Well, that’s the truth. He’s been too focused on making himself feel miserable and then he couldn’t fall asleep for a few hours, his mind running a million miles a minute.

His eyes meet Eliott’s across the table and for a moment it feels like Eliott sees right through him. It’s unnerving and Lucas quickly looks away, not being able to handle the intensity.

“Anyways, you guys will never believe what I found yesterday while browsing the web,” Arthur says, his tone cheeky.

Lucas yawns and props his head up on his palm. He feels so drained.

“What is it?” Yann asks in the same moment Lucas’ phone vibrates.

His pulse speeds up, but once he sees it’s just Mika reminding him about rent, he groans under his breath. He checks the folder with the messages from the blackmailer, though, just in case he’s missed something. He isn’t even surprised when he’s met with his own pathetic replies staring back at him.

Then he hears a sound and perks up. It’s Eliott’s voice, but it’s not coming from Eliott. Lucas looks around and sees Yann and Basile watching something on Arthur’s phone. He glances at the screen just in time to see Eliott in the video smiling at something he says before the sequence changes to some animation. Lucas' eyes involuntarily move towards the real Eliott.

He seems flustered, his skin flushed. And maybe nervous from the looks of it. He’s brought his hands up to his face and his fingers are moving over his lips, all the while he’s watching the boys’ reaction to the video. There’s a slight tremble in his palms. Lucas frowns. Should it make him this worked up? Why does he care about their opinion as much?

Lucas’ brain supplies a why do you care about other people’s opinion as much? Ugh, never mind.  

Eliott looks over to Lucas again and something in his expression changes. It’s not as intense as it was the first time their eyes locked, but it’s not as anxious as it was seconds ago. Maybe a bit sad, but it doesn’t annoy Lucas like any other time. For that brief moment, Lucas is more curious in regards to Eliott than he is hostile. And his mind gets devoid of any thoughts that have been torturing him all the time lately.

Lucas just focuses on holding eye contact with Eliott. Eliott doesn’t shy away from staring either. And the best thing? No one notices. It brings Lucas’ mind peace and for those couple seconds it lasts, the whole world along with its problems seems to disappear.

The noise comes back the moment Eliott turns towards the boys and Lucas registers them saying words of praises. Maybe he should know what exactly they were watching if whatever they say makes Eliott turn into an abashed mess.

But Lucas just keeps looking, hoping that Eliott will look back. He doesn’t, though, engaging in the conversation.

“Thank you, but it’s not that big of a deal,” Eliott mumbles, his lips stretched into a smile.

“It must be a big deal to you if you wanted to make a short film about it,” Yann says.

“Exactly, don’t water it down,” Basile says.

Eliott shrugs, his eyes dropping to his plate. “It’s never been fully funded, so.”

“That’s a shame, I’d love to watch it,” Arthur adds in a resigned voice.

Eliott shrugs again, his fingers reaching out to play with some stray fries scattered over his plate.

In the end, they all move to another topic, but for the remaining time they are there, Lucas keeps glancing towards Eliott in hopes to get a look back. Not even once do Eliott’s eyes find his.

Lucas hates him even more now. He hates Eliott for allowing him to have a moment of peace and then depriving him of it altogether.

 ***

 “What answer have you chosen in the fourth?” Lucas asks Imane, staring down at his own sheet. She brings her paper closer to him and he frowns. “No, it can’t be.” He looks up at her, his eyebrows drawn together.

She looks unimpressed. “Yes it can,” she claims, convinced.

“It doesn’t even make sense,” he retorts, looking at the exercise again and trying to work out the answer for himself. He hears Imane sigh in annoyance.

“If you don’t believe me, why do you bother asking?” she mutters under her breath, pulling the paper away.

Lucas hums, squinting at the words before him. The answer cannot be whatever Imane has settled on. If only–

His phone buzzes and his whole train of thought stops altogether. He sits straighter and reaches out for the device. He unlocks it and his eyes fall on the new notification. It’s from that taunting number. He’s never clicked on a text message as quickly as he does now.

“Find the answer?” Imane teases, but her voice fades away. He doesn’t register anything around him.

I figured out what I want from you. Send me 50€ every week and I won’t leak the pictures. If you agree I’ll give you more info.

Money. They want money from him. Something he really fucking lacks. But fuck, he can do it, right? If he saves on food, he can manage to have 50 euros each week. Maybe he’ll look for a job. It’s better than nothing. Better than having the pictures released.

He stays staring at the message, up until his screen isn’t lit up anymore, his mind too far away from where he’s now. Trying to come up with how he’s supposed to deal with the situation.

“Lucas, can we go through this?”

He turns towards Imane, confused before he remembers and nods. There’s a weird expression on Imane’s face, but Lucas doesn’t have time to think about it.

He can finally see his future not being as fucked up. Now, he just needs to get money from somewhere. It’s a lot to give away each week, but he will manage.

“Is everything okay?” Imane asks when Lucas doesn’t do anything.

He nods repeatedly and clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get down to it.”

She agrees, but her eyes stray on Lucas a minute too long, searching. He smiles at her and starts scribbling down some nonsense on the paper, hoping he isn’t acting too suspicious.

 ***

 He’s had some time to think things through.

He’s agreed to the deal, has gotten the link to the person’s PayPal  and already made the first transfer. It doesn’t sit well with him, especially when he realises how little money he’s had to begin with, but what has to be done, has to be done. He doesn’t see any other resolution to this problem. He’s not about to let the person leak the pictures for the whole world to see. That is simply not an option for him. And transferring money, even if dangerous for his bank account, seems plausible to a certain degree. After all, he could have been asked to do something mortifying. Maybe in another universe he wouldn’t mind the truth coming out, hell, maybe he’d be out and proud so the blackmailer wouldn’t have any power over him. But in this reality, Lucas is scared and determined to stop things from escalating.

Lucas doesn’t think about how long this may go for. It’s bad as it is, torturing himself with this will only bring him more distress. Which he’s overflowing with anyway.

He’s lying on the couch in the living room. He puts his earphones in, presses play and finally gets some relax. He breathes out and it’s almost as if all the tension that has been building inside of him for the past week or so, has just left his body at once. He closes his eyes and lets the music take his mind somewhere else.

Lucas thinks about how only a couple of weeks ago everything was remotely fine. His only concerns back then were his parents and how he was going to manage on his own. It was still a lot for a sixteen-year-old, yeah, but it wasn’t impossible to face. On top of that, he had his group of friends that let him forget about everyday struggles and be a normal teen. Now, he also has to worry about some guy stealing his closest people from him. Which, he’s aware is childish to say. No one can steal people because they aren’t his property. Lucas also knows they can have more friends, it’s not like they’ve forgotten about him. But there’s just something not clicking about Eliott for him. Each time he’s around him, he feels weird in an inexplicable way. He doesn’t get how he’s the only one to notice something is off.

Maybe he’s overthinking and letting his insecurities fuck with his head. All he knows is that with everything going down with the pictures, Eliott appearing out of nowhere wasn’t needed. He only makes things worse, more stressful. Lucas feels uneasy around him, nervous and if it depended on him, he wouldn’t spend more time around him than necessary. The way the other guys have accepted Eliott in an instant and act like usual, while Lucas can’t bring himself to be comfortable is messed up. He doesn’t know what to do, but for the time being, he’ll have to let it go. If he doesn’t want to lose his friends, he’ll have to swallow his pride and act at least civil towards Eliott. He can do it. He’s got other, more serious things to stress about anyway. Lucas will keep observing Eliott, though, just in case.

He sighs deeply and blinks his eyes open. He looks over to Lisa sitting on an armchair, watching something on her laptop and munching on crisps. She looks unbothered and Lucas knows it’s not completely true, that she has her own shit to deal with, but he wishes he could put on a façade the same way she does and push forward. It’s unfair to think like that, it’s like he said his problems were worse and more serious than hers. Which is not the point, he has to remind himself. He just wants to be stronger on the outside. Like Elsa sang, conceal don’t feel, don’t let it show and that jazz.

He moves his eyes towards Mika, cuddled up in the remaining space on the couch and busying himself with his phone. Lucas feet are tucked under his thigh and Mika doesn’t seem to mind. They haven’t talked much since Lucas’ freak out a couple of nights ago and they definitely haven’t mentioned this incident, but Mika has been quietly attentive towards him. Often offering comforting touches without asking questions. Lucas appreciates it.

At the very beginning, he was scared he wouldn’t fit in and that Mika and Lisa wouldn’t want him there, but he’s happy to know that he’s welcomed in the flat and can count on them. It makes him feel less alone, in a way.

His phone buzzes and he checks what it is now.

 Arthur: feel like pure shit just want her(Eliott’s short film) back

Basile: ugh I Know

Arthur: I’m never getting over this

Eliott: it’s nothing special really

 Lucas frowns at the messages. He’s the only one out of them who hasn’t watched that thing. He was too busy having a staring contest with Eliott and not enough fucks to give. But he’s also curious. That’s what he tells himself when he searches for the site. He wants to see if the guys are only making a big deal out of it for nothing and Eliott is right, or if he’s just fake humble.

He eventually finds the website and stops his music to play the video. He watches Eliott explaining the concept. Seeing him talk, already feels familiar. They haven’t even spent that much time together, ugh. This guy and his ways of getting under people’s skin.

For some reason, he smiles when Eliott does so and immediately scowls at himself for that. The plot seems interesting, he has to admit that and the animation sequence is really pretty. But what gets him the most is eagerness in Eliott’s eyes when he summarises the story. Lucas gets invested and for a moment, he feels kinship with the guys. Being upset over the fact Eliott has never raised the amount of money needed to realise the project.

He shakes his head at that and exits the website. Lucas can’t let himself be sympathetic towards the guy, that would go against everything he’s felt ever since he’s met him. It wouldn’t be like him at all.

Lucas needs to get a grip.

[crzygirls]

exo (ot9) reaction: another idol flirts with their s/o

Hi sweetie! Can I get an Exo reaction where some other idol starts flirting with their s/o?? Love you!!💕💕

minseok ✦

minseok doesn’t strike me as an overly jealous person, so watching another idol flirt with his significant other wouldn’t push too many buttons. this is because he trusts you so wholeheartedly, he knows that you wouldn’t intentionally reciprocate flirtatious behavior with someone that isn’t him. even if you do happen to laugh a little too loudly at this person’s jokes or accidentally graze their arm while grabbing your drink, he seems to have a really high level of eq, so he would be really good about keeping calm and reassuring himself that your relationship is too secure for you to cheat on him. i feel as though his level of frustration—because he wouldn’t really get angry—would vary based upon the situation. this idol would have to be doing the absolute most to truly piss him off, but even then he would do his best to respond in a mature fashion.

(ex. “sorry if this comes off as rude, but do you mind?” / “they already have plans then, actually.”)

junmyeon ✧

a well trained leader, junmyeon would know how to conduct himself in these situations based on past experiences, but that doesn’t mean he’s always perfect about acknowledging these experiences and applying them to current situations. he would try his hardest to be mature, though the only way he knows how to successfully do this while also avoiding awkward conversation is to keep his mouth closed entirely. due to this, it’s inevitable that there is going to be some tension between him and this idol. it’s that gross, thick sort of tension that you can just see when you look at the way the interact (or intentionally avoid doing so). eventually, it’ll get to the point where he’s grown tired of smiling through his distress and nudging your side, so he’ll reluctantly choose to speak up. he would be very good at masking his insecurity-driven anger with a level tone, which can be accredited to many years leading painfully unpleasant interviews.

(ex. “haha, (y/n), do you think we can talk outside? it’s kind of... important.” / “do you mind if we step out? my bandmate is having an emercency and i’m kind of their ride home...”)

yixing ✦

i really do hate the clueless yixing trope, but i honestly don’t think he would notice much if another idol was flirting with you. based on his interactions with interviewers and exo members alike, it’s likely that he would simply interpret this as common behavior between two friends. however, let’s say that he does take notice of the forced flirting this person is throwing at you—it’s just that obvious. he wouldn’t really mind unless you do. this may seem a little contradictory to my first statement, but yixing strikes me as someone who would be very perceptive when it comes to negative feelings. he may not know why immediately, but he would definitely be able to tell when you’re feeling uncomfortable in a certain situation. it’s something that will take a minute or two to click in his head, but he would politely put it to bed as soon as it does. he wouldn’t really care if you’re alright with such conversation, though he’s always ready to go to bat for you. when i say “go to bat,” i mean super bluntly and politely tell this person what’s up, you know?

(ex. “oh my, you guys are so cute!” / “i don’t think they’re comfortable being hit on when their boyfriend is right here...”)

baekhyun ✧

baekhyun can be super outgoing in everyday social situations, so i think you’d be able to see the contrast between his typical behavior and his behavior when he’s jealous. normally, he would be injecting himself into the conversation any chance he gets, talking about relevant topics and things relating back to them. however, when he notices that this idol is flirting with his significant other, his demeanor will change to that of a competitive child. he would narrow his eyes at this person for a moment before taking on a more clingy persona. with two arms secured around your waist, he’ll have you wrapped in a comfortable backhug. his head resting on your shoulder, he would shoot a devious smile toward them. instead of being completely active in the conversation taking place, he would merely respond after you’ve said something or something was said about you. he would go out of his way to show this person how close the two of you are, no matter how petty he comes across as.

(ex. “their eyes are pretty, aren’t they? i tell them that every night.” / “trust me, they’ll be very busy every night this week.”)

jongdae ✦

jongdae would be very similar to baekhyun in his response to jealousy. contrasting to the older member though, i feel that he would try his best to get you away from the idol in question, in addition to becoming incredibly clingy and boastful of your relationship. he seems like the type of person who would be protective, enough to want you away from this person entirely. he would be racking his brain in an attempt to find any good excuse to get you away from them and with friends he trusts a lot more. if he’s unsuccessful, he’ll be very similar to his hyung in that he would go out of his way to mention your partnership as often as possible, yet he’ll do do in the most faux-friendly way possible. his hand won’t be resting on your waist, but rather your ass. not only this, but the second you’re not paying attention, he’ll be giving them the nastiest glare you can imagine. he wouldn’t care about how annoying he’s being; he wants them to get the point and stop hitting on you.

(ex. “new york? that’s so cool! i took them there for our first anniversary and they fell in love.” / “ooh they can’t that day, sorry. i’m taking them out to dinner, but maybe another time, kid!”)

chanyeol ✧

people love to portray chanyeol as this hothead in their aus and such, which i agree with to some degree, but i honestly think that he wouldn’t really know how to react to something that evokes a feeling of jealousy. he wouldn’t be sure how to express his frustration without accidentally taking it out on you, which he wouldn’t risk doing for anything. he wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable as a result of him being weird about it, so he would try his hardest not to let you see that he’s feeling uncomfortable himself. he sees that you’re not reciprocating this inappropriate behavior, therefore he would focus on controlling himself instead. as opposed to blowing up at this idol, he would keep a level head and contribute to the positive atmosphere as much as he can. it wouldn’t be until much later that he allows himself to show his annoyance, as well as confide in you. he would let his forehead smack the steering wheel of his car and do the deepest sigh before unloading everything—starting from how weird that person was and ending with his great efforts not to make you a spectacle.

(ex. “like, the way they were looking at you was so diabolical, i almost lost it for a second there.” / “i was ready to body someone, but i really tried to stay friendly for your sake.”)

kyungsoo ✦

on top of kyungsoo’s resting bitch face, he tends to come off as pretty aloof in a lot of social settings, so it may be a bit difficult to tel whether or not he’s jealous. his feelings would be more easily noticeable if this is an idol he’s close with, as you’ll be able to take note of the fact that his contributions to the conversation are becoming more seldom. he’s a very mature person and he’s definitely not the type to cause a scene over his own jealousy; instead, he’ll fall into a mute state. his hand in yours would become more tense listening to this person call you beautiful and watching them place their hand on your shoulder, which would be a dead giveaway. this would be different from the usual quiet behavior we see sometimes during vlives and such, as there’s more of an intensity to it. it’s really hard to put into words, but if you know kyungsoo well, you’ll know when he’s feeling jealous. you won’t be able to see it on his face or in his responses, but if you’re able to read his body language, you’ll know.

(ex. “yeah, that’s cool i guess.” / “mhm, yeah.”)

jongin ✧

maybe my opinion on jongin + jealousy is a little biased because he’s such a teddy bear, but i feel like he wouldn’t really get angry in response to jealousy. instead, i can really see him being hurt when other people—not just idols—flirt with you. he knows you wouldn’t leave him for anyone else, but watching you obliviously laugh with them would cause this hurt feeling in his chest. seeing you so happy around someone who clearly has something more intimate than friendship in mind will make him worry that he isn’t good enough. he would become silent in the moment, and even for the following days to come. his insecurities would temporarily drive a wedge between the both of you until he’s ready to talk it out. the worst part is that you know he isn’t mad about it; you know there’s a deeper reason as to why he got so bent out of shape. no matter how many times you apologize, it still hurts to see someone who’s usually so happy look like the personification of the sun setting on a stormy evening.

(ex. “it’s whatever. it doesn’t really matter anymore, anyway.” / “i don’t know, i just—watching you with them hurt me so fucking much. it reminded me of you and i.”)

sehun ✦

sehun definitely doesn’t do well with jealousy, if you ask me. being the youngest member of the group, he’s so used to getting a lot of attention from his hyung’s. having said that, i feel as though he’s probably grown accustomed to the same sort of treatment in your relationship as well; he’s a bit of a spoiled brat and we all love him for it. part of this is due to his unfamiliarity with expressing his emotions in a healthy way. i feel like eq would be something he has to work on, as he would snap very easily at the sight of another idol hitting on you. anger is typical for most people in a situation like this, but he would do an especially poor job of holding his tongue and keeping his composure. he wouldn’t really be upset at you either, though it may come off that way at first. he would be snarky toward you on the way home because he doesn’t know how to express his feelings without being completely vulnerable, which can be so scary sometimes. as soon as he realizes how he sounds, he’ll be so quick to sigh and sincerely apologize, as well as explain that the other person had annoyed him, not you.

(ex. “not sure where you’ve been for the last two years now, but they’re not on the market.” / “you can take one look at them and tell that they don’t like the way you’re talking to them, so why don’t you go somewhere before it becomes a problem?”)

[thedragonisaprincess]

Howl In The Dawn

The first sign of daylight had lightened the night sky into a muted purple, and the Sunguard’s main camp seemed quiet save for the guards getting ready to be relieved of their shift; perhaps those who were early risers had begun to stir in their tents. Snow was still present, and though the cold nights had not been quite as harsh as before, the ground was becoming more wet as signs of Spring were beginning to show with a gradual melt and crunch of those white hillsides and banks.

Approaching from the east, a dire wolf as massive as many of the cavalry’s warhorses and nearly camouflaged by her pale sand-colored fur, slow and tired from an arduous journey. One guard who was a volunteering fighter from The Farstriders recognized the beast and allowed The Blonde through, though curious and somewhat alarmed that the wolf was alone; missing the woman she was bonded to. Tied at the neck and hidden under The Blonde’s thick, winter guard hairs was a satchel that seemed to be made from skins of animals recently caught. Determined to reach her target, The Blonde did not stop to let the Farstrider check this satchel, and walked her way silently through the camp with only the crunch of snow beneath her paws alerting her presence.

The scent of Ethalarian Dawnstalker and Nuellen’s wolf Moro grew stronger and eventually The Blonde had arrived in time to greet the Blood Knight when he walked out from his tent, still pulling himself from a restless sleep.

His reaction, understandably, was one of immediate shock and then panic. He began to look around the immediate area The Blonde was standing, “Where is she?! Where-- Where is Nuellen?!”

He addressed the dire wolf directly, knowing the connection The Blonde and Amarr had to Nuellen, and seemed to understand general feelings and intentions from others. Yet, all the wolf did was wag her tail gently and lean forward to lick the entire left side of his face with the broad side of her tongue. He seemed to grow more frustrated and was about to continue his fruitless interrogation of a four-legged creature, but forced himself to calm as he watched The Blonde sit back onto the snow and yawn wide, lifting her head to expose the leather pouch tied to her neck.

The surge of concern and adrenaline made Larry’s hands shake as he went to untie and remove the pouch. Another deep breath was needed before he opened the pouch, not caring to admire the fact that somehow Nuellen had pulled enough twine from her supplies to sew the damn thing together.

Inside were three pieces of parchment folded neatly and marked on the outside with different sets of initials: BK E.D., AK A.B., and Arch. T.T.

He quickly identified which initials belonged to their person and made to remove his letter, but his eye caught the glint of metal resting at the bottom of the pouch. He reached and felt his heart sink as he pulled forth two necklaces; one of which was very familiar to him. Thinking the worst already, he looked down and pulled his letter. He only read what was addressed to him, but after some time, he dressed and left his tent once more, letters in hand and moving to make sure they were delivered to their intended recipient.

Nuellen’s Messages:

Under The Cut

Ethalarian,

I write this as I camp somewhere on the far Eastern side of Quel’Thalas, between a mountain range and perhaps a few weeks walk to The Goldsea; it’s a bit hard to tell right now. I don’t plan to linger very long here, and I don’t know how long this message will take getting to you, so I can only say that I’m alive and have avoided most conflict. I’m uninjured, if a little hungry, most of the prey animals are keeping warm and out of the snow.

These weeks of tracking have been almost too long - Amarr and The Blonde caught scent of Kipcha and we followed her trail as some allies were trying to get her to lead them to Velianor’s location, but Kipcha broke away and ran back the way they were traveling. I expect perhaps Frostblaze is injured and she was returning to her mate... Instead of turning back, we pressed forward; lost the scent a few times, but have finally found something.

Time has worn away any sort of direction Veli and her pack were headed, but someone had her on the run. I found wolf bodies, well worn by decay, but no sign of Velianor or a body. I’ve been canvassing the area for the better part of two weeks now; I may have found a site where she could have fallen, but there’s no signs of a body, nor any kind of scavenging. I have a fresher scent now, though...

I also have proof that I’ve made headway and have packed them with these letters to you, Aestus, and The Archon; I remember catching a glance of her wearing these necklaces a few times and I assume they weren’t removed voluntarily.

There is no trail, so Amarr and I will circle and widen the area for any possible signs or routes that she could have taken. I will not assume that she has been taken captive or killed.

I’ve done some training of my own with Amarr and The Blonde. I believe they now will have a connection to my well being, similarly to Velianor and her wolves but not quite as strong. The Blonde is to remain with you and Aestus for the time being, but if she will let you know if something is wrong.

I love you. This will have a positive outcome. Believe in that.

-Nuellen

P.S. Please make sure that Archon Truefeather gets my report.

Aestus,

I write this as I camp somewhere on the far Eastern side of Quel’Thalas, between a mountain range and perhaps a few weeks walk to The Goldsea; it’s a bit hard to tell right now. I don’t plan to linger very long here, and I don’t know how long this message will take getting to you, so I can only say that I’m alive and have avoided most conflict.

Finding our Velianor has not been easy, and it remains a challenge, but I believe I’ve made progress finally and now have more to work with.

Bad News first: Much of her pack has been eliminated, it seems. Some kind of skirmish happened and she was forced to retreat but not without pursuit. I found the necklaces I’ve sent with The Blonde hanging from a tree in one valley section, but I also found a few other signs that Amarr and I could get a solid scent from.

Better News: I have not found any evidence of a body or scavenging from other animals. This means she’s not here and I will continue to track her down. It will still take some time to circle the area and extend our search, but I’m confident Amarr and I will catch up to her. Wherever she is.

I realize this message may bring you and Ethalarian more distress, but keep your head clear. Don’t let the Worst Scenario worm it’s way to you. There’s something in my bones telling me that she isn’t gone from this realm; certainly you feel the same thing?

Keep hold of that feeling.

I’ll find her; and we will return together. Keep breathing.

-Nuellen

Archon Telchis Truefeather,

Nuellen Swiftstrike, Pathfinder Dawnward and Farstrider Ranger-Captain, writing to you in regards to the whereabouts and status of fellow Dawnward Velianor Novastorm. Apologies, first off and also in hindsight, for departing without previous approval from Superiors; this mission to track and locate the Dawnward started and has only been one of Personal and Emotional gain to myself and other members who are close to Velianor. However, I am acting alone and did not attempt to convince anyone else to join me; any repercussions for my actions against orders, I will accept when I return with Dawnward Novastorm, alive or otherwise.

I’m unaware of her reason for being so far from any other units, but that is not a concern to me, at current... Only that myself and others were alerted by one of her bonded wolves that something severely wrong had happened to her and the wolf pack she travels with. She had escaped the main camp and I decided to follow.

I’ve managed to track down a site along the mountainside South East of The Goldsea that I believe she had encountered an enemy force and retreat was required. However, the retreat was followed - perhaps harried - as many of her wolves are now rotting in the snow. The body of the Dawnward in particular was not discovered, nor have there been signs of any scavenging in the area; not even a finger bone was located. I have, however, found a lead and have chosen to follow it. If I find she is captured by any enemies, I will send my black Dire Wolf Amarr with notice and continue to track, but I will not engage. Otherwise, if she is found recovering or otherwise, I will report to the nearest camp with Dawnward Novastorm in my care.

I understand this is a minor update among events that are far more important. Please consider this letter an official report of investigation for The Sunguard’s archives.

Light and Lady Aessina Keep You Safe,

Nuellen Swiftstrike Alah’ni

Long Overdue Post Regarding Velianor Novastorm’s Phoenix War Stories: Planting Seeds in a Garden You Never Get to See and What’s Left Behind while eventually leading up to The Forgotten Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Tagged For Mentions: @ocarina-of-what // @theletter27 ( @shampoocommercialelves ) // @trained-trainwreck ( @ethalarian) // @felthier ( @thesunguardmg )

[nutbrain]

A short fic about a pining Bandit I wrote from a discord suggestion. I tried a writing style a little different from what I’m used to, so please let me know if you like it! (~4800 words)

Bandit wasn’t quite sure when the feeling started. It had been insidious, one thing slowly building on top of another, nagging at the back of his mind until the thought was finally brought to his attention; he was starting to get old. It wasn’t something he’d really let bother him until recently. Retrospectively, Bandit realized he’d started to notice courtesy of several offhanded comments. The German had vaulted over a stairway’s railing to finish off a couple terrorists a floor below and hurt his knees on the (admittedly poor) landing. Kapkan had laughed his head off when Bandit had radioed in that since the building was finally clear, he was going to remain on the floor until his legs stopped throbbing. He still cringed at the fact that Mute had to eventually make his way down to pick him up. The young Brit asked him if he required LifeAlert, and of course Pulse had joined in. The helicopter ride back was miserable with his knees still hurting more with every jostle and those idiots living it up through the comm system which he was ordered not to turn off. Kapkan of course wouldn’t let him nurse he wounds in peace when they got back and instead radioed it in to Doc.

              “We have no casualties aside from Bandit’s pride,” Bandit flipped him off which only encouraged the Russian more, “the idiot decided to take up gymnastics and didn’t quite stick his landing. I’d give it a 2.5/10 from what I saw on the cameras.” Kapkan winked as the others started chortling, debating whether or not he deserved more or less points for killing the terrorists on the way down.

Doc had let out a long-suffering sigh when Bandit was hauled into the infirmary by a highly amused Mute. From the looks of it, the doctor had been planning on heading out for the night with his team, as Doc had thrown his white coat on over his sweater and khaki pants while the rest of the GIGN was lazing around the infirmary in their civvies. Twitch fixed him with an unamused look and he flipped off Rook just out of sight of Montagne as the younger man opened his mouth to say something. The shield bearer smiled at him as he limped past, but Bandit steadfastly refused to make eye contact, offering him a quick nod instead. He was already embarrassed enough.

Doc ushered the pair into the office and closed the door after Mute left, giving the German a lightning fast check-up before launching into one of his signature tongue lashings. While the whole tirade was grating on its own, it was Doc’s comment as he cleaned up that really tipped him over the edge.

“You’re not getting any younger, you know. Not that you should have been pulling those stunts ten years ago, but you have to be even more careful now.” He gripped, passing Bandit a bottle of prescription ibuprofen for the swelling and pain. The German glared and silently accept the meds, waiting to leave until he was dismissed. Bandit maybe a bit rash at times, but even knew better than blow up on the doctor (Doc was a force to be reckoned with on his own, but with the rest of the GIGN already upset that they weren’t currently at dinner, there’s no way that would end well).

However, if the Keurig that Doc and the others from the mission happened to use had its water laced with laxatives the next day, well, what could he say.

~

While Bandit certainly wasn’t the oldest operator in Rainbow by any means, he also wasn’t nearly as young as some. After lamenting to Blitz about the comments from the others, the younger German had a few ideas that Bandit wasn’t quite sure he was willing to accept.

               “I think you’re just hitting your midlife crisis.”

               “My what?” Bandit looked at him as if he’d grown another head, though it wasn’t quite as effective since he was currently laying upside down on the couch while Blitz sat in the recliner, making a valiant effort to type up his mission report while also playing counselor to Bandit.

               “Your midlife crisis. From what I hear it happens to people around your age. I mean, you bought that ridiculously expensive motorcycle last month,” Blitz held up his hand as Bandit started to protest, “your pranks have shifted to focus mostly on the younger operators, you actually trimmed your beard within the last week, you’ve started buying work jeans with even more holes in them, and you’ve finally purchased civvies that don’t make you look like a homeless stoner.” Bandit flipped around on the couch to level a proper glare at the other man, whose only response was to roll his eyes.

               “I’ll have you know that I’ve been meaning to buy that bike for years, thank you very much. And how dare you insult the distressed marks on my jeans. I don’t know if you’ve tried, but it’s actually very time consuming to create that look for yourself.” Blitz quirked his eyebrow, disbelieving.

               “Listen, all I’m saying is maybe this would be a good time to find someone nice and give dating a chance. I know it’s hard with our lifestyle, but we’ll all have to retire eventually and you need someone to keep you company when the nights are long.”

               “Ya, you’re probably right,” now it was Blitz’s turn to look at him strangely, not used to hearing those words come out of Bandit’s mouth. “I probably do need a good lay like what you have with the baguette boy.” Blitz’s expression turned to one of horror as his face lit up bright red. Bandit cackled as he exited the room, leaving a sputtering Blitz behind.

~

Despite the jesting, Bandit took Blitz’s words to heart. He spent the next week running through his dating options. Ideally, another operator would be best suited to handle and understand his current lifestyle, so that narrowed down his options significantly. Montagne, Jackal, Lion, and the Russians were out immediately for a variety of reasons. Montagne was so far out of league it was unreal, so he wasn’t even on the list to be checked off. Jackal was attractive and older, so he was one of Bandit’s first thoughts, but the other man was too suave and had enough baggage not to be able to handle any of Bandit’s. Moving on, Lion, as far as Bandit knew, was interested in the fairer sex. As intriguing as the challenge of converting him sounded, he also didn’t think he’d be able to stomach his haughty attitude for long. As for the Russians, they were so tight knit it would be extremely hard to even start to approach one, and in the event that they ever broke up, Bandit had the distinct feeling that he would no longer have to worry about reaching retirement.

Rook, Blitz, Mute, and Smoke were already in relationships, and as much as Bandit enjoyed chaos, he wasn’t about to be labelled as a homewrecker, especially not where Blitz was concerned. After finishing his run through, the only other operator he hadn’t completely ruled out for one reason or another was Jager.

Bandit started weighing the pros and cons of their theoretical relationship. Pros: They’d been friends for awhile and at this point knew each other well, so they could skip a lot of the awkwardness that accompanied getting to know someone new. Not to mention the man was incredibly smart and easy on the eyes. Cons: The problem lay in the fact that Bandit preferred to be pursued rather than to pursue. And knowing Jager, his toolbox had a better chance of picking up on the fact that Bandit was flirting with him. Not to mention he’d be risking their current friendship if he took the direct approach and was rejected.

Bandit sighed a flopped back on his bed, attempting to devise a strategy to ask the mechanic out while also being able to play it off should his advances go awry.

~

As the weeks went on, Bandit occupied his free time with fantasies about pursing Jager. He’d started to grow accustomed to the idea of dating the other German, despite how strange the notion had felt initially. Before Blitz put the idea in his head, it hadn’t even crossed his mind to ask Jager out. The two defender’s friendship had taken long enough to progress to where it was today, with more than a few fights scattered throughout and so Bandit was loathe to potentially ruin what they had. At this point, however, he was committed to winning over the other defender, despite the nagging sense that this whole thing was fueled by a little too much desperation. His usual sounding board, Blitz, was of little help; the man turned to a blushing pile of mush at the mere mention of sex and Rook had all but fallen into his lap, so he was useless for that as well.

Getting Jager’s attention was just as hard as he thought it would be, much to Bandit’s despair. His attempts at flirting were taken as compliments, and all he accomplished was inflating Jager’s already significant ego. At one point it had gotten so bad, everyone was worried the pilot was turning into Echo with how much he was boasting about his ADSs (a statement that said man was highly offended by). Smoke thankfully took him down a few notches by rolling a stink bomb past his ADS during training. Jager had been stuck in the raunchy room until Castle came back to take down his barricades, taking longer than necessary to check all the rooms before finally arriving to rescue the poor German. Bandit felt guilty even if what happened wasn’t his fault, so he decided he’d better switch tactics.

However, his next option, gifts, were also a no go, as they were immediately met with deep suspicion and adamantly refused on the off chance that Bandit was pulling a prank. Despite trying everything he could, Jager still refused to take any of the offered food items or tools. After several attempts on multiple occasions, Doc and Montagne were starting to appreciate the edible items he grudgingly passed their way. The tokens had at least gone a long way to smooth things over after the laxative prank claimed Montagne as an unintended victim. Doc of course had made Bandit eat something from the box the first few times he came by, both to prove nothing was poisoned and to make sure they didn’t taste terrible. As for the tools, which were not electrified as Jager insisted, he kept for himself or passed onto a grateful IQ.

The whole ordeal was a trial in itself, but to make matters worse, the other operators in the workshop had picked up on what was going on and were increasingly amused with Bandit’s failures. He was furious when noticed that the SAS defenders had started a betting pool at his expense, worried that it’d somehow work its way back around to Jager. So far the two had kept their promise to the pilot out of the loop, given the fact that Jager turned down Bandit’s latest gift of his favorite box of German chocolates.

Sighing in frustration, Bandit stalked out of the workshop and headed back towards his room. On the way, he passed the common area where Montagne and Rook were watching some film in French. He veered over and dropped yet another box of chocolates off to a now beaming Montagne, not allowing the other man a chance to speak before he disappeared around the corner without a word.

~

Two weeks and five failed attempts, Bandit had finally ended up at his last option, but refused to take the final step. His attempts had gotten increasingly farfetched and he’d managed to run up a long list of people infuriated with him as he compensated for his anxiousness with pranks. In a rare occasion, both the Bosak sisters were looking to murder him for swapping the contents of closets and lockers (luckily for him, they still had yet to actually work together), he’d switched out all of Thermite’s chemicals with either baking soda or vinegar, resulting in little volcanoes forming all over the lab, and sniffed out the location of Buck’s good maple syrup to replace it with the cheapest liquid sugar he could find.

As if ticking off four operators wasn’t enough, his most recent stunt had Glaz absolutely livid. Bandit had passed out invitations to a ‘gallery’ he’d opened up, which consisted entirely of the Russian’s empty canvases that he’d pelted with paintballs and hung around the common area. While some of the operators were snickering at his latest escapade, they all quieted down upon seeing Glaz enter the room. After a narrow escape from the sniper, the German was constantly checking over his shoulders for the rest of the Spetsnaz, who were currently doing their best impression of a kicked hornet’s nest.

The operators that had been so far unscathed were much jumpier and were anxiously trying to keep him in their peripherals. The younger members of the GIGN in particular had been watching him carefully, knowing they were among his usual targets. In all honesty, Bandit had avoided the GIGN not out of respect, but because he knew if he made Rook cry, Blitz would end his life. And if Bandit was worried Montagne would give him that same confused and disappointed look he had after he ruined his coffee, he certainly wasn’t about to admit it.

~

IQ finally approached him in the GSG9 common area, where he was sprawled out on the couch contemplating life. She sat down heavily, taking the place that Blitz had occupied weeks before when he first put Bandit’s plans in motion.

               “Listen, I’m getting real tired of putting out all of your fires. I found a set of plans today that Kapkan had written up as a way to ‘accidentally’,” IQ made exaggerate air quotes here, “break both your kneecaps during training. I managed to talk him down, but you’re buying Glaz brand new canvases, and they better be the highest quality crap you can find.” Bandit rolled his eyes. While he didn’t like being told what to do, he passed his phone to IQ all the same, showing her he’d already placed an order for new canvases. He’d been planning on offering them as an olive branch after seeing the devastation on the sniper’s face when he first recognized his art materials. The woman huffed and relaxed further into her chair as she tossed his phone back.

               “Listen, I know this isn’t usually the kind of thing we talk about, but I’ve heard the rumors. If you’re going to ask Jager out, just rip off that band aid. No matter what he says, it’ll be easier than putting up with you trying to start World War III with the rest of the operators because you’re too much of a chicken to make a move.” As Bandit stared, unsure how to respond, IQ hauled herself out of the chair and shuffled off to her room, closing the door behind her a bit more forcefully than necessary. Bandit buried his face in the crook of his arm and sighed. IQ was right as usual, and if she felt the need to say something, then it really must have gotten bad. He sat up and began brainstorming the best way to word everything.

Much later in the afternoon, Bandit wandered down to the workshop and slowly waited for the other operators to clear out. Kapkan and Fuze seemed to be attempting to glare him to death, but even they finally left, leaving Bandit, Jager, and Echo in the lab. Jager had his headphones in and was bobbing to a beat Bandit could hear from across the room, so his next actions would go unnoticed. He first attempted to make eye contact with the other operator before giving up. Bandit resorted instead to crumpling up a wad of paper and hucking it at Echo’s head. When he looked up, Bandit mimed towards the door and mouthed “GTFO”. Echo just smirked and shook his head, glance towards Jager and making a kissy face. Time to change tactics. Grabbing a pencil and another piece a paper, Bandit wrote out: ‘I will murder EVERY last member of your drone family.’ The look on Echo’s face went from surprised, to amused, and finally terrified as Bandit connected the paper (and a piece of carefully concealed graphite) between the alligator clips of his battery, sending them up in flames. The Japanese man’s face lost its color as he scooped up his drone and held it to his chest. He hastily gathered his work materials in his one open hand and made a quick exit.

Jager pulled out one of his earbuds and sniffed.

               “Do you smell smoke?” He asked, peering around curiously before his eyes settled on the smoking pile of ashes in front of Bandit.

               “It could be because you’re smoking hot.” Bandit finger gunned and winked. Okay, maybe not his best move he thought as Jager let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to his work. Alright, he just had to do this like pulling off a band aid; nice and fast. A ‘Bandit aid’. Oh gosh, he was going insane and needed to do something now before someone came in, he lost his nerve, or started actually saying half the crap he was thinking right now.

               “Sooooooo, I’ve been thinking about something for a little while.” Bandit wandered over and leaned on the edge of Jager’s work table. The man responded with a noncommittal grunt, but removed both earbuds to better hear what Bandit had to say. It was now or never.

               “I was wondering if maybe you’d want to date me. I mean we have similar work schedules, we’re both attractive, we’re both German, so we wouldn’t have to worry about intercountry nonsense, uhm, and IthinkIkindoflikeyou.” Bandit had steadfastly refused to make eye contact and that last bit came out a little too fast, but he was sure the other man still understood. When Bandit finally looked over at Jager, the other man was staring before giving him an amused look.

               “Haha, no.” That was…unexpected. Bandit had to admit it felt like being slapped, and while he knew rejection was a possibility, he at least expected Jager to turn him down a bit more graciously.

              “Why not?” Anger seeped into Bandit’s tone as he recoiled back, readying himself for a fight if only to make sure the pilot couldn’t see the hurt that was surely written all across his face. Jager set down his tools and ran a hand down his face, leaving a greasy smear in its wake.

              “Because, I don’t want to ruin what we have here. Not to mention the fact that if we ever broke up, not only are we in the same CTU, but we’re also both defenders. We’d never be able to go on the same mission again, and I’d hate to lose that.” Jager broke eye contact and started fidgeting with a screwdriver, his voice quieting for his next statement, “Dom, you’re the only person I completely trust to watch my back out there and I don’t want to lose that. I was kind of hoping that if I didn’t respond to any of your weird attempts at flirting you’d just kind of let it drop and I wouldn’t have to hurt your feelings. Besides, you’re not really interested in me, you’re interested in the idea of having someone and I’m your easiest option.” Oh. The rejection still stung, but Bandit’s shoulder relaxed as he settled back down, Jager’s words hitting home as the pilot had read the situation much better than Bandit had given him credit for.

              “I guess you’re probably right. I really don’t want to screw up our friendship either, though I suppose I’ve just made it incredibly awkward.” Bandit was lost at what to do. He felt like an idiot, but now he couldn’t leave without at least attempting to repair what he’d just potentially ruined. Jager snorted.

              “Naw, I figured you’d pull some stupid stunt like this after Blitz mentioned the conversation you two had. You’re too much of a chicken to ask any of the other operators out.” Jager playfully poked Bandit in the side with the butt of his screw driver to accent his words, as the other German attempted to swipe it away. Jager sighed as Bandit proceeded to stare at floor, the sides of his mouth pulled down into an unhappy grimace.

              “Why don’t we go out and get a drink this weekend? You can save face with the other operators and we can get drunk enough to laugh about this whole thing. It’s only awkward if you make it awkward, Dom. Besides, I’m getting tired of having you being too nervous to sit next to me in here. I’ve had to bounce my ideas off of Fuze recently, and that man carries a conversation about as well as a brick wall.” Snorting at what Jager said, Bandit gave him a nod and smiled before standing up. “Sure, why not. First round is on me.” The mechanic smiled at him proudly, obviously relieved that he’d accepted the peace offering.

Slapping Jager on the back, Bandit headed towards the door of the workshop, leaning back around the door to tell Jager wipe the dirt off of his face before sauntering off to nurse his wounds. Jager heaved a sigh of relief and texted IQ and Blitz to ask them to keep an eye on Bandit just in case he wasn’t as okay as he said he was. The three operators had been attempting to divert this disaster after Jager had expressed his reservations, and while the situation had turned out well, the pilot still felt guilty for not addressing it sooner. After receiving replies from his teammates, he confirmed a time and date with Bandit for meeting at the bar, before sending off another quick text and smiling at the reply.

~

Saturday came around and Bandit rode his motorcycle out to the bar that Jager had specified in his text. The other man had to do some things in town, so they agreed to arrive separately. With his helmet in the crook of his elbow, Bandit wandered into the building and glanced around the room. It was a small, dimly lit dive bar that the rainbow operators frequented, with a couple pool tables in the front and a smattering of booths around the walls. Tonight, there was a group of people playing pool that glanced up upon his arrival and a lone man sitting at the bar, but no Jager anywhere in sight. Bandit was purposefully fifteen minutes late, partly to keep up appearances and partly to make sure he wasn’t left sitting alone at a bar, nursing his minor heartbreak like a loser. Shifting his helmet so he could tug out his phone, Bandit texted Jager informing him that he was a loser who had better get here soon. Resigned to wait, Bandit sauntered up to where the bartender was cleaning glasses.

As he got closer, Bandit realized he recognized the man sitting at the bar, and for all the world couldn’t think of why he would be there. Sensing his approach, the man glanced over and smiled brightly as he recognized Bandit.

              “Hey there Monty. What brings you to this crap hole?” The bartender looked unamused but was by now used to some of the operators being a bit abrasive. Bandit dropped a twenty on the bar and the man passed him his usual, Montagne still smiling like the angelic being he was. Just his luck, not only was he about to get wasted, but now Montagne and the rest of the GIGN would likely be here to watch him drown his sorrows. Jager had better get here soon.

              “I’m here to meet a hot date. It’s our first one, so I’m trying to make a good first impression.” Bandit laughed as he leaned his back against the bar looked around, one of the lights in flickered off and on in the corner and someone angrily shouted from one of the pool tables.

              “You sure picked one hell of a place to try and do that. Hopefully she doesn’t mind the fact that nothing’s been updated in the last century.” Montagne’s smile brightened even further and he leaned forward to rest one of his elbows on the bar and turn the rest of his body towards Bandit.

              “Well, I don’t think he tends to mind places like this,” Bandit perked up at the change in pronouns, swinging back around to look at the Frenchman in a new light, “but the place was picked for us by a mutual friend.” Hope was starting to wriggle its way up into Bandit’s heart, despite him doing his best to smoosh it down. He simply blinked at Montagne, before switching to an attempt to feign disinterest with a half-hearted, “Oh ya?”

              “Why don’t you tell me, Bandit. Do you mind places like this?” Bandit blinked, once, twice, then three times as Montagne’s expression gradually started to dim from his lack of response. The large man leaned back in his chair and Bandit suddenly noticed how close they had been for this entire conversation.

              “I, um, I mean, if you’re not interested that’s completely fine. I just…you’ve been giving me an awful lot of gifts that you could have passed off to Blitz or IQ since Jager didn’t want them. And then Jager messaged and said you were interested and that this was the time and place, so I just figured… I mean I suppose…. Maybe I jumped the gun a bit?” The Frenchman started fidgeting, the expression on his face looking for all the world like Bandit’s had when he’d finally asked Jager out. Seeing something so uncharacteristically anxious from the normally confident man was strangely endearing. After staring for another beat, Bandit allowed a smile to creep into his expression

              “You’re right, I don’t mind places like this. I am a pretty hot date if I do say so myself.” Bandit winked before scoffing and finishing off his beer. “I guess this means that Jager’s not coming after all?” Montagne’s smile returned in full force and he shook his head laughing, Bandit sliding into the seat next to him and ordering another beer. While their conversations were awkward at first, neither knowing where exactly they should start, as the night carried on, they grew more relaxed in each other’s presence and the conversations flowed easier.  After several beers, Bandit recounted the last few weeks, and after several probing questions from Montagne, finally slurred (after even more beers) how he’d thought Montagne would never be interested, so he didn’t bother even trying. By the time the bar closed, Bandit was gotten absolutely trashed with Montagne not far behind. Knowing that neither was fit to drive, Montagne checked them into a nearby hotel and the two passed out blissfully on the beds, content with the other’s company.

 Despite the fact that Bandit was over the moon after this recent development, Jager didn’t get off completely for standing him up. Bandit hid his tools throughout base and followed him around to tell the pilot if he was hot or cold until an exasperated IQ returned with a Bandit’s treasure map of hiding places and threatened bodily harm should Bandit attempt to re-hide anything.

Bandit also made peace with the Spetsnaz, replacing all of Glaz’s canvases and then some. Glaz, though still miffed, was grateful and it went a long way in smoothing tensions with the Spetsnaz. Bandit couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling that grew in his chest as Montagne later told him how proud he was that he’d done the right thing. While Bandit played it off, he made a mental note to buy Blitz something nice for setting this whole thing in motion.

 The ensuing relationship wasn’t what Bandit had imagined would happen with Jager. There was a lot of getting used to new routines and hanging out with different people. He got to know Rook a lot better, something that made Blitz unreasonably happy and so was probably worth it. As he and Montagne approached their one-month anniversary, Bandit realized that while they might not last forever, he was more than willing to risk the heartbreak in order to give their relationship a chance.