#i stg if i wake up to more bullshit...

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

Last thing I'll say on this bullshit unless something major happens: I'm sad to see that stress is still supporting him, but not surprised. I suppose that could indicate towards his statement being more true, or whatever, but even if everything he said about the unfair treatment was true... Hermitcraft is still a type of workplace. The hermits are colleagues. If there's solid evidence (which we know there is) of one of your colleagues abusing a position of power over others for sexual gain, it's normal to be mad about it and kick them the fuck out. These aren't "rumours" as he kept putting it. In the statements iirc at least one of them had evidence supplied (and allegedly more they didn't show).

K that's all. Random hermits catching strays in the comment section, don't bother looking it's just a shitty mess.

[songbirdmunson]

I literally had to ban myself from tumblr before 10am because I was waking up, checking my notifs and ruining my entire day for one reason or another. After 10 I have usually had a coffee and am much more equipped to handle the bullshit but I stg some people are just downright c***s and get excited at the thought of ruining someone's day.

I may have to start doing that honestly, sometimes logging onto here is a lot for me, but I usually try to ignore as much of it as I can!

[honeybadgerwritings]

Being Brave is Hard

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Requested: “can i request eddie munson comforting his s/o cause they are about to have surgery and have a phobia of hospitals and medical stuff.”

Warnings: Slightly graphic descriptions of panic attacks, vomit, pain, gore, medical procedures, and anesthetic sedation (needles).

A/N: HOLY SHIT GUYS this fic was supposed to be finished a little over a week ago, and I’m so sorry about the wait. I had to get emergency surgery to get my appendix removed, which is incredibly funny to me because of the contents of this fic. I stg I didn’t plan this, I either just cursed myself or predicted the future. Either way, it’s done and I’m still healing! Everyone enjoy!

Summary: Emergency surgery mixed with a girlfriend who has an intense fear of hospitals? Eddie is going to need all the help he can get.

~~~~~~~

All you had wanted was a nice, calm, and relaxing morning where you could wake up on your own, and feel perfectly well rested. Where you could snuggle into Eddie’s arms for another ten minutes while he rubbed your back and stroked your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Maybe he’d hold you especially close because of how cold it is outside, and he’d want to keep you warm. Maybe he’d take pity on your tired self and let you sleep through first period of school, and the two of you could show up late. But luck was not on your side this morning.

Not at all.

“Baby c’monnn... you have to get up.”

You groan into your pillow in response as Eddie gently shakes your shoulder, lips resting against the shell of your ear. He had first woke you when he abruptly jumped out of bed, scaring the shit out of you. After that, he had maybe given you two minutes of peace while he got dressed before trying to get you out of bed. You were never really a morning person and he knew that, but this time something feels off.... you feel off.

Actually you feel like shit.

And the fact that he’s trying to peel you out of bed for school definitely isn’t helping. It doesn’t even make sense, Eddie hates school. So why the hell is he trying to drag your ass out of bed in such a hurry? You have no idea, and right now you don’t care. Your body feels like it weighs twice as much, your head is pounding, and your abdomen feels like it’s on fire.

“Eddie...” you whimper, trying to get him to take the hint. He only cooes at you, thinking you’re just exhausted, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You relish in the comforting touch, sinking back into your pillow as sleep begins to overcome you once more. Only for it to be ripped away immediately as the covers were pulled off you. You whine, instantly curling in on yourself as the cold air pricks at your skin.

“Nooooo...”

“Yesssss,” He mockingly whines back, “C���mon, get up. Breakfast will be ready in five.” He places a chaste kiss to your forehead before strolling out of the room, singing N.I.B. by Black Sabbath. You peel one of your eyes open to look at the clock on the wall. It read 7:15.

Too fucking early for this bullshit.

You sat up begrudgingly, blinking slowly before wiping the drool from the side of your mouth. Your bare legs are covered in goosebumps from the chilly October air that floods through the trailer vents. You slowly kick them over the side of the bed, feeling weighed down. You rest your head in your hands as the pain in your skull only grows with every movement. You couldn’t help but feel annoyance towards your boyfriend for the rude awakening he had given you.

You’re well aware that he’s not a mind reader, and probably couldn’t tell that you were not feeling well, but c’mon. Nobody wants to be woken up like that.

“Why the hell are you so excited about school you dipshit?” You whine, hoping he could hear you over his loud ass music.

“Hellfire tonight baby!” He calls back and you groan, remembering the end of his campaign was in fact tonight after school. You lift your head and stare into the mirror in front of you, taking in your reflection.

The dark Motley Crue tee of Eddie’s that you use as a sleep shirt matches the color of your eye bags, while the rest of you looks incredibly sickly. It was a startling sight to say the least. The ache in your abdomen resurfaces as you stand up, and you wince, stumbling your way through the door of his bedroom.

You‘re so confused as to why you feel like this. Last night you had fallen asleep with a slight stomach ache and now you think you’re dying. You can tell you have a fever just by how achey and sweaty you are, and your head feels like it’s spinning as you guide yourself to the bathroom using the walls.

You can hear Eddie dancing around in the kitchen as something sizzles on the stove. Normally you would laugh and make fun of him for his atrocious dance moves, but the smell of whatever the hell he has cooking goes straight to your gag reflex and you push your way inside the bathroom.

You find yourself on your knees in front of the toilet, dry heaving a few times before your dinner from the night before makes a reappearance. Tears spring to your eyes as the acid burns your throat, and you weakly call out for help the second you got the chance to breathe.

“Eddie...” you manage to choke out just in time before throwing up again. His voice begins to fade into earshot as he approaches the bathroom door.

“Uhhh baby? I sort of burnt the eggs so I think we’re just gonna have to stop at 7/11 on the way- holy shit.” He stops in his tracks, freezing as he takes in the sight before him. He only pauses for a few seconds though, before he’s quickly making his way towards you, multiple panicked “shits” and “fucks” leaving his mouth as he does so.

He carefully maneuvers his way behind you, pulling your hair from your face and holding it back. His other hand rubs up and down your arm soothingly as you retch into the toilet. You can’t help the whimpers that leave you as the pain in the right side of your stomach becomes excruciating.

“Easy sweetheart, I gotcha. Just let it all out.” You cough and hack for a few moments, and his hand moves from your arm to pressing firmly into your back, his thumb gently stroking up and down your spine, “Breathe baby, you gotta breathe.”

You try your best to do so as the contents of your stomach begin to run low, your puking coming to an end. You rest your head against the toilet seat, too tired and in pain to care about how gross it might be. You don’t even notice that Eddie had left your side until he returns, a cool wet rag and a glass of water in hand. He crouches down to your level and gently lifts your head, wiping off your face of any sweat before cleaning around your mouth. The back of his hand finds your forehead as he checks for a fever.

“Jesus Christ, you’re burning up.”

Worry dances over his features as he brings the cup of water up to your lips, allowing you to sip it. You swish it around at first, before spitting it in to the toilet and pulling the handle to flush the contents down. You drink some more after that, relishing in the relief it provides your throat. Eddie stays there with you, still supporting your head as he hums in an attempt to soothe you.

Unfortunately, as soon as he pulls the glass away from your lips you’re reminded of the sweltering burn in your stomach. You wrap your arms around yourself and lean back against the wall, gasping in pain.

“Hurts... Eddie it hurts.” You whimper pathetically, eyes pinching shut.

“What? What hurts!?” He asks in a panic, his eyes scanning over you. He watches as your hands press against the right side of your stomach in an attempt to ease the pain. His hands gently place themselves over yours and he asks,

“Right here?”

You nod frantically, pained groans and whimpers leaving you as he gently pulls your hands away. He slowly pulls your shirt up to reveal your stomach, examining to see what could be wrong. From the looks of it you’re not hurt at all, and he breathes a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t hiding any injuries from him. He places his hand against your stomach, gently pressing into your skin to feel if something is wrong. You hiss in pain and reach out instantly, gripping his arm in a silent plea for him to stop.

“Shit- I know sweetheart I know, I’m sorry.”

He continues to gently prod around until his fingers find themselves over a very swollen section of your abdomen. He sucks in a breath at that, pulling away as soon as you cry out in pain. He reaches up, cradling your cheek to comfort you as he thinks about what to do. Your eyes close and you feel dazed and tired, leaning into his touch. He needs to get you to a hospital, but he knows you well enough to realize that you’d rather lay here and die than do that.

This was going to be a challenge.

“Okay baby c’mon. Let’s get you up okay?” You don’t protest as he reaches under your arms to pull you up, helping you stand on your feet. He wraps an arm around you as he guides you back to the bedroom. He sits you down on the bed while he scrambles around.

You can’t really register much besides the pain at this point, but you are able to feel the soft mattress beneath you and you hum.

“I can sleep again?” You ask, hopeful, your words almost slurring together. Eddie can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he approaches you with a pair of sweatpants and his slippers. (The bunny ones he made you swear to never tell anyone about.) He places a kiss to your temple before kneeling down in front of you.

“No no no, no sleeping right now okay?” You pout at that, not even noticing as he maneuvers your legs into the sweatpants, pulling them under you and up over your bum. He slides the slippers onto your feet with ease, before tying your hair up as best as he could incase you had to throw up again.

He helps you stand once more, guiding you out to the van and buckling you in. He hops into the drivers seat, quickly peeling off towards Hawkins ER. The ride there is fairly easygoing. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking it with his thumb anytime you groan in pain, and making sure you stay awake.

As he pulls into the parking lot he realizes just how smoothly this went. Even though you’re clearly out of it, he‘d never expected to be able to get you here so easily. He puts the van in park, and you lift your head in confusion.

“Where are we?” You whine, peeking your head out the window for the first time. You look up at the giant sign by the parking lot entrance that reads ‘Hawkins Emergency Room,’ and your heart drops at the same time as Eddie’s.

So much for this being easy.

“Baby...” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“No no no. Eddie... please take me home. I-I can’t-” you’re cut off by your own cry of pain as you try to scramble as far away from him as possible, your abdomen burning like crazy. He slides over to you and grabs your wrists in an attempt to prevent you from hurting yourself further. You continue to fight against him, tears trickling down your cheeks as you yell at him to take you home.

You eventually end up pressed against him, your back meeting his front while his arms keep you encased. You’re pleading now, begging him to get you out of here while you cry and struggle in his arms. He can’t stop the tears from filling his eyes as he holds you close, unable to prevent the sheer terror you must be feeling.

“Sweetheart please-” his voice cracks and you let out a sob. He rests his chin on top of your head, delicately swaying the two of you back and forth, “I want to help you, but you gotta let me.” He holds you impossibly closer to him, kissing the top of your head as he tries to will the tears away.

“Pl-please don’t make me go in there,” you beg again, “I hate hospitals...I-I hate them Eds. I-I’m fine really...please.”

For a minute he contemplates it. He wonders if it’d be easier than having you cry in his arms while you beg him to take you home. But he knows that’s not an option; You’re obviously not okay, and this wasn’t just some sickness you might have caught. Eddie’s no doctor, but he can tell well enough that the swelling in your stomach couldn’t be anything good. He needs to get you in there, but first he’s gotta calm you down.

“Listen to me,” He starts sternly, “You’re not okay and you know that. You need a doctor, and we’re not not leaving until you see one.” You sniffle in response, still trembling in his arms, and his tone softens, his hands gently rubbing up and down your arms. “You’re in pain baby, and I can’t make it go away on my own.” Your lip wobbles and you whimper,

“I-I can’t Eddie please-” you’re cut off once again by a yelp of pain as you clutch your abdomen again. You turn, burying your face into his chest as you cry. You know he’s right but you don’t want to admit it; hospitals are terrifying to you, and they always had been. It’s where people go to die whether they know it or not, and you really didn’t want to be next. Eddie places his palm on the back of your head and he shushes you, continuing to rock the two of you back and forth.

“Yes you can, I know you can. Wanna know why?” You peek up at him, your puffy eyes filled with curiosity, “Cause I’ve seen you do a lot scarier things than going to the hospital.” You huff out a breath, sniffling again.

“I mean come on, you traveled interdimensionally and fought off monsters. All while trying to kill that Vecna creep to save the world.” You wipe your nose with your shirt as you slowly calm down.

“Being brave is hard. Besides, you did that too.”

He kisses your forehead, “Yeah but you did it better.” You smile and he continues, “Besides, if it weren’t for you I’d be bat food.” You shrug, feeling bashful.

“Oh! And remember last summer when you snuck into the Wallace’s trailer to steal your money back, and you outran their Rottweiler?” You can’t hold back your giggle, nodding against his chest. “That beast almost got you too.” You whack him, sitting up and rubbing your tears away.

“Bonnie is not a beast. She’s adorable, and she only chased me cause she likes me. If it was you running it would’ve been a different story. Your ass would’ve been a chew toy.” He gasps, reaching back to cover his butt in mock fear.

“Not this ass, it looks too good! Especially in these jeans.” You laugh at his antics until you gasp, your stomach flaring up. Eddie watches you carefully as you try your best to breathe, and he places a comforting hand on your back.

“Hey, you’re safe okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise.” He murmurs and you take a deep breath, looking back up at him with a smirk.

“You swear on Dustin’s mother?” He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s a low blow.” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting his answer. “Okay yes. I swear on Henderson’s poor mother.”

You nod, letting out a breath.

“Alright...let’s get this over with then.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry, appenda-what?” Eddie asks, eyes filled with confusion.

“Appendicitis, it’s a condition where the appendix becomes inflamed and filled with pus— causing pain.” The doctor explains sliding on his rolling chair as he points towards the screen.

“Wh-what’s the appendix?” You squeak out nervously. Eddie’s hand rests on your shoulder, providing some comfort. When you and him had stumbled in, they immediately showed the two of you to a room and began to run some tests.

They initially wanted to do the tests in private, but after you had almost went into a full blown panic attack, the doctor and nurses agreed to let Eddie stay. They had given you some temporary pain killers and for a while that helped, but you were still shaking like a leaf in your hospital gown. It was obvious the staff was taking pity on you, but you didn’t want their pity.

You want to go home.

“The appendix is a narrow pouch that projects out from the colon. It really has no known purpose so removal of it would do little to no harm to you-”

“What do you mean removal?” You ask sharply, your tone immediately rising to a panic. The doctor pauses for a moment, as if trying to figure out the best way to tell you this.

“Well you see, appendicitis is considered a medical emergency because if it is left for too long it will eventually caused the appendix to burst or rupture.” You hold your breath, awaiting the dreaded words that were about to leave his mouth. You could feel Eddie bracing himself for your reaction as he slowly moved closer to you.

“A burst appendix is incredibly painful and life-threatening, which means it requires immediate surgery for removal and the cleaning of your abdominal cavity.”

In your mind you’re already gone. You’re sprinting down the hallway, trying to get as far away from that dreaded hospital room as you possibly could. Not once looking back. But here in the present? You’re frozen in place and completely filled to the brim with dread. Almost as if one more drop would cause everything to spill over. Your eyes were completely unfocused and your breathing was picking up rapidly.

“Woah woah woah hey...” Eddie starts, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. The doctor immediately makes his way closer, placing his hand on your arm, but you aggressively flinch away towards Eddie. A cry leaves your lips and everyone in the room jumps at the sound of it. You’re scared, you’re so scared.

“Y/N it might be best if we-”

“Hey uh listen Doc,” Eddie cuts him off, “I know you’re all um medical professionals and shit but...you guys really freak her out man. I think she just needs some space.” The doctor’s eyebrows furrow.

“I understand that but it’s urgent that we perform the surgery-” you visibly flinch at the word, “before her situation becomes any worse.” Eddie huffs out a breath, his hand rubbing your back as he tries to figure out what to do. His eyes scan over your rigid form for a moment, registering just how terrified his poor girl must be feeling.

“Just... give me five minutes with her okay? Someone’s gotta calm her down and I know that won’t happen if any of you try to do it. Please.”

The man pauses for a few moments before eventually nodding, ushering the nurses out of the room before following them shortly after. As the door shuts behind them, Eddie scoots further onto the bed, situating himself in front of you, taking your face in his hands.

“Hey...can you hear me?”

You’re staring past him, eyes completely unfocused as your mouth moves, revealing the thoughts that are swirling around in your head, almost like a tornado.

“Oh god.... oh god I’m gonna die I gonna die- Eddie I don’t want to die oh god-” you gasp out, your thoughts and words completely jumbling together in a messy pile of fear. You’re trembling under his touch as his thumbs gently stroke your cheeks.

“No no no, you’re not gonna die- Hey!” He taps your left cheek lightly, trying to snap you out of whatever panicked daze you’re in, “Hey look at me.” Your eyes slowly but surely move to meet his, a look of recognition filling them. “Can you hear me?”

It takes you a second to fully register what he had said before you force a nod. He huffs a quick breath of relief before speaking again,

“Listen to me, you’re not gonna die. You’re gonna be just fine okay? I promise.” He moves closer to you, scooting forward in a gentle attempt to bring you into his arms, knowing that you could snap if he wasn’t careful. He pulls you snug against his front and you wrap your arms around him. You lean your head against his chest and take in his musky scent, listening to his heartbeat.

You can’t stop the tears from finally escaping your eyes as you wheeze the air from your lungs. Eddie can feel them soaking the front of his shirt and he’s quick to cradle your head with one hand while he rubs your back with the other. “I know. I know it’s scary baby, I’m right here.” he mutters, his voice like honey. His hand moves from your hair to your neck, holding it gently. It gives you a sense of feeling grounded, like you aren’t going to wither away from fear.

“There we go, deep breaths. Just follow me sweetheart.” There was the slight firm edge to Eddie's voice before he modeled a couple of deep breaths for you to follow along with. Your rapid breathing slowly begins to dissipate back into calm relaxed breaths as he holds you.

“God I’m so pathetic...” you huff out, sniffling. He squeezes the back of your neck ever so gently and you pull back to look at him. His hands find your face once again, thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“You’re anything but pathetic baby. It’s okay to be scared sometimes you know...” you shake your head in denial and his hands move to rest on your shoulders, “I mean it. Don’t sell yourself short sweetheart, and that’s coming from the guy who’s afraid of bats.”

You huff out a laugh, “You have a good reason to be afraid of them though-”

“And you have a good reason to be afraid of this place. Trust me, even I’m getting freaked out,” He visibly shudders, “Besides, that doctors receding hairline is pure nightmare fuel.”

You bury your face in his shoulder trying to stifle your bouts of laughter. You feel Eddie smile against your head as he places a chaste kiss into your hair. “You better hope you don’t lose your hair one day, or I’ll never stop telling you the same thing.”

“These precious locks?” He dramatically flips his hair over his shoulder, “They aren’t going anywhere. I don’t care how many hair growth products it takes, I refuse to go bald.” You continue to giggle into his shoulder, hoping that the doctor couldn’t hear your conversation through the door.

Just as that thought crosses your mind the door clicks open and the doctor makes his presence known through the clearing of his throat. He didn’t seem overly upset which was a good sign that Eddie’s comment had been kept between the two of you.

“Are we all set to get started? I can give the two of you a few more minutes if you would like?” Eddie pulls away and sits back on his heels as he takes your hands in his. He studies your face for a few seconds before titling his head back, gesturing to the doctor. He gives your hands a reassuring squeeze,

“What do you think sweetheart?” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before slowly nodding your head.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Within about 30 minutes you had been moved to the surgery wing of the hospital, and everything was set up for you to be given the anesthetic to be put under. You were shaking like crazy but Eddie stayed with you the whole time. He was informed that he would be allowed to stay with you until you were officially sedated. Part of you wishes he could stay the whole time but that was just your anxiety talking, you knew neither of you would actually want him to stick around while you’re being cut into and operated on.

“You ready?” Eddie asks you, and you look at him nervously. His hand is squeezing yours lightly, trying his best to keep it steady and keep you grounded. You shake your head lightly. “Not really, but I kind of have to be at this point.”

He chuckles, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair that had fallen out from the hair net behind your ear. “That’s the spirit...I think?” You smile and shake your head at him. Just then another doctor comes up to your right side, gently taking your arm into her hands.

“Alright Y/N, I’m going to administer the anesthesia now. It should put you to sleep within roughly two to four minutes. You’ll be completely safe and in good hands the whole time, I’ll personally make sure of that. Are you ready?” Her words helped to slightly ease your panic and you nod slowly. She lifts the syringe to the small tube that had been inserted into the vein in your wrist, and you watch as she empties it out, letting it flow into your veins. You don’t feel any different at first, and it isn’t until you open your mouth to speak that you feel anything at all.

“Is it working?” You ask, your words slurring out with a giggle. Eddie smiles, reaching up to stroke your cheek and you hum and the feeling.

“I think so baby.”

A moment later you’re pouting, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open. But Eddie’s thumb on your cheek was very sleep inducing...oh and the drugs too. But mostly his thumb.

“I don’t wanna sleep.” You mumble grumpily, and Eddie raises an amused eyebrow at you, “Oh really? Why not?”

“M’ gonna miss you.” Your tired eyes finally begin to droop and his eyes soften at your words, the smile never leaving his lips. He can hear some of the nurses giggling at your response, and even a mumble of ‘They’re so adorable’ being whispered into the air. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment.

“Don’t fight the drugs on my account.” He jokes, and you huff out a tired laugh in response. He continues, “And no need to miss me sweetheart, go ahead and close your eyes. I‘ll still be here when you open them again.”

“Promise?” You mumble, on the verge of unconsciousness.

“I promise.” And that’s the last thing you hear before tumbling into a deep slumber.

~~~~~~~~

Beeping is the first thing you hear as your body starts to wake up. Snoring is the second. The cold bite of the hospital air is the first thing you feel. A warm hand in yours is the second. And the bright white light emitting from the fluorescent bulbs is the first thing you see.

Eddie’s sleeping form is the second.

It takes you a few moments to even register where you are or what happened to you before everything slowly starts to flood back into your memory. You swallow, your throat feeling dry as your eyes attempt to get used to how bright the room is.

You look back at Eddie, admiring how cute he looks when he sleeps. His mouth is open too, his tongue barely poking out. He looks so peaceful.

Not for long.

“Psst. Eddie.” You whisper, trying to get his attention.

“Eddie, hey.” You say a little louder. He doesn’t even move. You roll your eyes and huff,

“HEY EDDIE!” You shout as best as you can, giggling as he startles awake, standing up, hands in the air as if he’s ready to karate chop someone. His panicked eyes scan the room before eventually landing on your amused form.

“You. Fucking. Brat.” He grits his teeth, sitting back down. “After everything I do for you? And you wanna play that game?” He grumbles, pouting.

“I just missed you. How long was I out doofus?” You giggle some more, teasing him.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Three hours, and you know, you were a lot nicer to me when you were on drugs.” Your eyebrows furrow for a moment, not recalling anything after the nurse had explained what was going to happen.

“Why, what did I say?” Now it’s Eddie’s turn to mess with you.

“You confessed your undying love to me, right before telling your doctor all about his receding hairline.” He lies, watching as your face drops in horror.

“I did not...” you try to deny, not recalling anything he was telling you, but he just smirks and nods. “Oh but you did sweetheart. And he did not seem impressed.” You groan, dropping your face in your hands, feeling completely mortified.

“Noooooo....” you whine, but he just laughs at you. You attempt to sit up more but you gasp in pain at the sharp sting emitting from your side.

“Hey, take it easy baby,” He scolds, gently pushing you to lay back down, “You just got out of surgery, you’re not gonna recover immediately.” You huff out a frustrated breath.

“How long am I supposed to stay here then?” You ask and he bites his lip, knowing you’re not going to like his answer. “Two days.” You throw your head back again, groaning again about how unfair this all is before your head shoots up once more.

“Wait, what about Hellfire? You can’t stay here, you have to go and finish the campaign! Especially when all the boys are so excited about it! It’s only five o’clock, you can still make it if you leave right now. Just take the van and come back afterwards, I can wait for you I promise. I’m sure this TV has something entertaining for me to watch while-” you’re cut off by his soft lips meeting yours. You squeal in surprise as his hands gently hold your face. He pulls away, forehead resting against yours,

“Calm that pretty little head of yours,” he chuckles, “I already called all of them and postponed it to next week.” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“You...postponed hellfire? Eddie you never do that.” He leans back, smiling at you, “I’d do anything for my girl, besides, they’d all get crushed without you there.” You blush at that, burying your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry about today, I know I totally overreacted-”

“Don’t be sorry. You know I don’t mind taking care of you. I just don’t like seeing you so upset.” His fingers glide down the side of your neck, providing a small form of comfort.

“Well I can officially say that I’m slightly less afraid of hospitals now.” Eddie looks up at you hopefully, “Wait really?”

“No.” You laugh.

Just then the door clicks open and your doctor from earlier walks in, smiling at the two of you. He begins to explain what would be expected of you during your recovery process, and Eddie holds your hand the entire time.

He glances over to you, his eyes dancing over your features in complete adoration. He’s so happy that you’re okay and looking healthier. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if you didn’t end up fine. And it’s not hard to notice just how relaxed you are. Whether you want to admit it or not, he knows you’re definitely more comfortable here than you were before, and he’s incredibly proud of you for that.

But he’s even more proud of himself when you begin to apologize to the doctor for your “comments” on his balding head. And if he not-so-proudly explains everything to the doctor and takes the blame after you fall asleep, he might just keep that to himself. Because nothing is more important to him than you.

[problemstarchild]

i can’t believe i’ve never read the alliance news network pieces before. i’ve read through all the cerberus news network shit just because i knew it existed, but the ANN stuff is brand new to me and it’s GOLD.

the article i’m reading, for example, explains how cerberus went from a small rogue cell to a huge private military in such a short time. they’ve always had the funding from wealthy human supremacists (such as henry lawson) and their own front organizations to generate income, but like, it seems like they HEAVILY managed to bolster their recruitment in the wake of the collector abductions.

in the cerberus news network timestream, there was an event referred to as the “vallum blast” that occurred on the turian colony of taetrus. a turian separatist group hijacked a ship and sent it at FTL speeds into the city of vallum, the capital of taetrus. the resulting collision caused “tens of thousands of deaths”, and turian leadership responded by immediately and decisively seeking out and slaughtering the responsible fringe group.

following this incident, the spending habits of citadel space changed. a term called “the taetrus effect” was coined, which was used to explain how several brand new serious and/or action movies bombed in the box office, while audiences flocked to comedies (looking for levity in a stressful, terrifying time)

tens of thousands died on taetrus, which is HUGE number that i can’t even begin to process, but HUNDREDS of thousands of humans were taken from each human colony the collectors attacked. i think they managed roughly 100k on horizon, even though shepard managed to stop them -- that was a third of the colony, and who knows how many other human colonies they managed to hit before cerberus reanimated shepard. 

they were clearly active when shepard died since they KILLED shepard, and i can only imagine that they’ve been literally plucking human colonies out of the air since then without incident -- while cerberus has been playing GAMES with the collectors, luring them to certain planets (if we’re taking the events of paragon lost at face value, which i... you know. they think biotics are powered by batteries so maybe i won’t completely validate them but, you know, they are at least semi-canon.)

so you have this turian tragedy that grips citadel space to the point where they must all suddenly decide to LOVE blasto because it’s so bad it’s funny, right?? meanwhile hundreds of thousands of humans have disappeared and i don’t recall reading about that in the news blips given by the CNN. (whether this is an oversight by writers who figured that hey, it’s the plot of the game, let’s not overdo it, or a deliberate attempt by cerberus to radicalize their readership by simply pretending the galactic news doesn’t report on human issues, idk. but i do know that there were few if any news reports mentioning the colonies while walking around populated areas)

like. i’m not super surprised that cerberus saw increased recruitment if their strategy was this

ANN has agreed not to publish the classified report’s contents, but experts within the STG, speaking on condition of anonymity, warn that what was once considered a small and extremely select group has grown drastically in size and power. “There has always been a segment of the human population that believes the Council government is lying to them,” said one agent. “Cerberus exploits that fear.” A confiscated recruitment video included in the report states the Cerberus mentality plainly: “Other species may talk with us, trade with us, even live with us, but when a crisis comes, we are on our own.”

this is very much a hill that game 1 ashley is willing to die on, and she doesn’t consider herself racist OR a human supremacist (which i’m not calling her, i’m just saying that she herself aggressively reacts the terra firma party while still having these talking points). 

like, imagine this: 

you’re just a human. maybe you don’t have any particularly strong feelings about galactic politics. humans are in space now! that’s cool! wow!

the first time you hear about shepard is when they become the first human spectre. haha, alright! diversity win!

the second time you really hear about commander shepard is when they save the citadel from being completely destroyed by the geth, and they keep saying that there’s an entirely different threat represented by their flagship. it’s not... hotly disputed at the time. the council doesn’t necessarily want to wave away what’s been said but it’s very much “we can neither confirm nor deny these claims at this time” politician bullshit

commander shepard is reported killed in action. the normandy is reportedly destroyed.

the council backslides entirely on any room for interpretation -- that flagship was created by the geth, only and absolutely.

human colonies start to go missing. maybe a distant family member or the relative of a family friend is gone. you’re absolutely freaking out. they’re just GONE, and nobody knows what happened.

the vallum blast happens. that’s fucked up, wow. holy shit 

more human colonies go missing. nobody really seems to notice. you notice. you’re noticing more and more, really.

surprise! shepard’s not dead and they’re flying around in the normandy, working with cerberus! 

apparently they just stopped the collectors, who apparently were behind the colony kidnappings? nobody else was working on this? (there’s at least one news clip i recall where someone says the council is looking into it, but this is a HUMAN matter because it’s outside of council space, despite the fact that the council is literally using humans as a meat shield to settle and claim worlds in the terminus systems)

if you believe the collector base thing wasn’t publicized at all (either in general or by cerberus for some reason), then i guess the first time you hear commander shepard is alive is when you hear that they blew up a relay and destroyed a batarian solar system. 

holy fuck. the government has been lying to you this whole time. shepard is alive and has been doing secret missions or something.

even if you did not become a conspiracy theorist around step 5, you are definitely questioning the truth of what you know at this point.

shepard his been relieved from duty and can’t answer any questions from the press.

cerberus comes forward with friendly, understanding faces to claim their work they recently worked with shepard to bring those collectors to justice for abducting all of those humans! they did something when nobody else did! wow! (though the alliance military was working on this, either cerberus didn’t know or they just didn’t tell shepard: but there was no other significant proof that they were doing anything about it)

maybe everyone just gives cerberus a bad reputation because they want humans to suffer. maybe cerberus is right.

we need to do something about this! humanity only has each other when the axe is coming down on us!

if you’ve made it this far, congratulations! you are now a cerberus reaper-fied husk centurion or something.

like, it’s extremely easy to radicalize people who feel ignored and afraid, you know? and we KNOW that cerberus understands radicalization tactics, it’s literally how they got shepard to work with them -- by reaching out to joker and dr. chakwas, handpicking kelly chambers (alien sympathizer), morally upright do-the-right-thing jacob taylor, engineers donnelly and daniels. they go out of their way to show their best face first to soften the transition.

and that’s when they get you! like jesus christ shepard is able to resist an ardat-yakshi who’s been breaking people’s brains for hundreds of years, but put a cute secretary and some old friends in front of them and suddenly they’re standing on virmire across from their former lover, completely isolated from their support systems, saying shit like “cerberus are the only ones doing something about this!” after just watching said lover get caught in the middle of trying to do something about this.

it’s insidious! and the same way the alliance used shepard as a poster child for recruitment after the attack on the citadel, cerberus now gets to parade shepard around as a poster child for cerberus after the collector base. and nobody wins.

[akiwisfics]

In the Middle Chapter 8

Notes: No longer a crosspost, technically, but chapter already written. If you get annoyed by this, please savior ‘kiwi crossposts’ to save your eyes.

Description:  The war's over, but the mess is still left behind. Kasumi finds herself among the wreckage with unexpected companions and questions that seem almost impossible to answer for. Life keeps moving forward, however, and the surprises it leaves behind aren't always pleasant ones.

Pairing: KasumixSha’ira

--

Kasumi was never a cook. Oh she craved good food like anyone that had the taste of fine life, fine wine-- an opportunity to know the difference between a perfect cut of perfect temperature of steak to scraps left behind from a meal between bored batarian slavers more concerned with profits than artistry and fine dining. But she didn’t have the chance to know how to make it herself. Not surprisingly-- she was a child when she was taken, and by the time that she was freed of her shackles, she was more concerned with the constant burning and itching  at the back of her skull than the differences of various fish filets.

Ah, but soon, she would taste riches, and sometimes, it enraptured her in a way that only art came close to.

But the richest of the rich didn’t know either. They couldn’t until that food was taken from them. No doubt many of those old blood capitalists and tyrants craved now, now that the old system was gone. 

She enjoyed taking samples when she crashed dinner parties, flirting with the idea of being among their elite and making people guess how and where they had seen her before. It was part of the fun. She learned the differences and specifics of turian, asari, quarian cuisine-- the history of different cuts and fishes that once passed alien hands in their own celebrations. She would say it was for research, to keep the guessing game going, but well.

Nothing compared to her grandmother’s cooking.

They only knew each other for about a month or so before she passed, when Kasumi was trying to figure out how to be human in the deepest dark of her despair. At times, she thought on the time and wished she’d been kinder. Spoke more, shared love and affection with her grandmother and aunt more freely. But she hadn’t known how to do it, not after losing someone so tremendous so recently. 

But every day, her grandmother would pull her from the reaches and into their tiny apartment kitchen, the thick smell of salty broth and noodles pulling her back into reality. The mere reminder of it could make Kasumi’s mouth water-- rich, melting in her mouth, leaving a soft warmth behind in her chest.

She would find out over time more specifics of what she made. It was a style of miso ramen, made specifically for the harsh winters in Japan’s northern region. Her grandmother had a restaurant for a time on Earth before moving her family to the Citadel after humanity discovered the Mass Relays and made contact with the rest of the galaxy. She had tried running a few shops there in the Wards, but had retired early to help the family adjust to life in space. 

Her grandmother served them ramen in two large, expensive bowls, chopsticks and spoon-- as was traditional back home. Kasumi would get a fork the first week until she learned how to move the chopsticks with ease (it wasn’t much different than any other work she did honestly; a little practice and a little deft work and it was done). The broth-- a thick combination of miso and fish-- easily overtook the small space between them as it soaked rich wheat noodles. Her grandmother claimed the sliced pork inside was fresh, even if that was probably impossible, topped with sweet corn, sprouts, and plenty of garlic. If she was really lucky, there would be a sliced boiled egg floating on top.

It was divine. A true labor of love each and every day. 

“You’re starting to get some meat on your bones.” Her grandmother had a sharp eye too. She could see the resemblance between them. Thick brown eyes that had been hers once, the same nose and round jaw. Her hair had lengthened well past her shoulders after decades, though Kasumi rarely saw it free from the loose bun she wrapped it in. Much the same reason she had kept her own short-- easy and out of the way of work.

She had carried her age with grace, and in her most optimistic moods, she had imagined herself looking much the same, perhaps with a grandchild of her own lingering in the kitchen, waiting for the ramen to soak like she so often did. 

30 short days, and yet they seemed to have known each other for years.

“Nanami?”

She had looked over the bowl of steam, mirroring a smile that she knew now was a family trait. “Sorry, I just--”

“What were the colonies like?”

Kasumi hadn’t known. What specks of memories she still had about her first home weren’t concrete enough to give. There was similar thick aromas in her father’s kitchen, late nights where her mother returned home covered in oil and grime. Fights and games shared with her sister. A bundle of blankets tightly wrapping around a baby boy, keeping him warm and secured. 

The mines and fields she worked after weren’t colonies. Not the romanticized ones so often advertised over the vids. Sometimes it sickened her so badly that she had to switch the channel-- something that hadn’t been lost by the other two occupants in the home.

“Mom and Dad were happy,” she said instead.

“I don’t doubt it. They would be happy to see us all here again.”

She could’ve asked a million things. What were they like? Why did they go out into the colonies in the first place? Had she kept contact? Questions that another day, another season, Kasumi would have been happy to be occupied in finding out, but as it stood, she was hurting, and as it stood, they never asked her how she came to be there.

She’d been afraid then. Unfortunately for her grandmother, the geth would find her before Kasumi had the strength to ask.

--

Dark fell quickly over their campsite-- clear as the day had been with leftover spring warmth that made it easy for her group members to stay out longer than usually. Many of them mingled awkwardly with their salarian counterparts, though fewer in number as the day wore on. If Kasumi had to guess, they were moving their camp closer. Strength in numbers. Their preoccupation would make it easy to get out, though increased her chances in running into a member or two later on in her venture.

The sea of stars above was stunning with constellations and lights that likely hadn’t been seen on London soil in decades, freed of manmade pollution and electricity. If she had time, it wouldn’t be so bad to make her way to a mostly intact building or two to stargaze. How much time she would actually have though entirely depended on how urgent someone would be to find her though. How much Major Kirrahe actually trusted her to behave.

Considering she was in her catsuit already, the lack of trust was right, however irritating it might have been. It wasn’t as if she trusted any of the STG either. Still, the catsuit felt nice after so long, fitted perfectly and adjusted for whatever tumbles and climbs she would need to make throughout her trip. 

No one was keeping a close eye to her tent. Big mistake. She activated her cloaking immediately and kept her steps quiet as she made her exit. The heavy darkness and night that blanketed the rest of the empty streets was felt immediately as soon as she crossed the perimeter, but the stars and moon were perfect for the occasion. Just enough light to help guide her way. 

There were lots of little signs of life along the way. Nests of different finch birds, a quick sonata of crickets somewhere in the distance-- out of sight and out of mind. She could see holes dug in on old gods where animals tried to make them home. Plants, grass, weeds worming their way through the cracks of broken concrete. The art that would be inspired by this wonderful rejuvenation would be wonderful to see.

The smoke that permeated so much of the asphalt seemed to fade just a bit once she did reach the graffiti wall again, as if the world was also calming down the further she left her little pocket of civilization. There weren’t any more names left on the wall, though the fact hadn’t surprised her. From here, her and Sha’ira had gone about a half-block down, over the fallen reaper. It would be a tight squeeze still, but she could move faster without someone trailing behind. She really should get something to thank the consort. Though Kasumi wasn’t sure what all could be found that was… luxurious in the ruins, there may have been a nook or cranny or two that the Alliance hadn’t touched yet--

And oh. Her omni-tool was beeping. She let the cloak fall for now as she recognized the name on the other end. Just the girl she wanted to talk to.

“Evening!” Kasumi answered into her ear piece, eyes keeping watch of the area around her. Just in case. “I thought you might be asleep already.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t have called at all if you thought that.” Khalisah’s voice was groggy. She felt sort of honored that she would wake up just for little ol’ Kasumi. “If this is about the murders, I already planned on moving my camp in the morning. But you know if I get close, STG will be on my ass within minutes.”

Kasumi ignored it. “Do you know about the other groups around here?”

The hissing sigh on the other end was long and exasperated, but she heard her rustling through her belongings, grumbling the entire time. “My notes are around here, hold on… Couldn’t you just ask for this when it’s not in the middle of the night?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You fucking suck,” but there wasn’t as much bite as there was usually. Kasumi smiled. She heard pages (paper? Oh how old-school) being quickly flipped through before Khalisah finally spoke again. “There’s another volunteer group southwest from you guys? Pretty much the same. Only thing that stood out was an older guy with half his face scarred to shit.”

“Yellow armor? Real terminus system vibe to it?” Not ideal, but if Zaeed was close, he might be bored enough to lend a hand. Security detail for a volunteer group seemed a bit low energy for him, but maybe their benefactor had about as much credit as theirs did. 

“Yeah. Figures you’d know the only other shady person in the area.”

“Be nice. He’s just cranky, usually.” And had a lot of guns and explosives on hand. He also was real handy with booby traps. If she could get her hands on another proximity mine, he could tell her something that she wouldn’t know already. Especially if their batarian neighbors were more mercenary than refugee. “Could you do me a favor?”

“I’m starting to think you don’t know what blackmail means, Ms. Goto.”

“I could’ve just let the batarians kill you, you know,” she teased. Good-naturedly. Promise.

Khalisah sighed. “Fine, fine. Whatever. What do you want?”

“Be happy. I was going to keep you up for the night before you told me that,” and suppressed a snort when she heard the snarl. “Make sure it’s Zaeed Massani, of course. And if you would, ask him to come by my camp tomorrow… morning is probably good. Before the others wake up.”

“What? You want me to wake up an angry mercenary now? I’m sure he’ll love the camera light in his face.”

“I have his channel. Assuming he hasn’t changed it anyway.”

“Then call him yourself!”

And risk him getting worked up without confirming anything? Clearly the woman hadn’t worked with many mercenaries before. Kasumi tsked. “I’m busy--”

“So was I. Sleeping!”

“Just send a nice, friendly email saying… ah.” Hmm. What should it say actually? If he was early, she wouldn’t exactly want him asking for her directly. Sure, it was about a 50-50 shot on finding someone that knew who she was at camp at this point, but Zaeed wasn’t exactly quiet. “Tell him Ms. Goto’s looking for him at camp, and if he doesn’t see me, just ask for Sha’ira or Kirrahe. Then wait til I get there.”

“And he’ll just go?”

“If you’re that worried, you’re welcomed to toss 500 credits down for me. Money does talk.”

She hung up on her instead. Rude. Kasumi was going to offer to pay her back, but maybe the message came off a bit strongly. She still sent a quick message off with his channel information, in case the reporter did decide to follow through on the request. If not, he probably wouldn’t be hard to find. Guess she couldn’t fault her for getting antsy though. Since their deal was made, Kasumi hadn’t actually followed through with anything, though in her defense, she was spending that time warning her instead. 

It could and would wait for now though. She reactivated her cloaking device and continued her trek toward the murder scene, mentally wording whatever apology email she’d need to make to Khalisah later along the way. The hushed landscape made it easy to concentrate on it, disappointingly absent of any tracks or evidence of others that may have passed through in the meantime. 

If this was newly staked batarian territory, they weren’t using obvious wider paths. Either they didn’t want to be found, or were acutely aware of the possibility of someone tracking them. Could be both, or neither. 

She shimmied around the dead god’s head, and found little had changed in the last few days. It was still a clearing, shadowed by crumbled buildings, half-shapened concrete blocks-- debris of either the buildings around them or elsewhere. She had spent plenty of days memorizing the reach of reaper lasers and various weaponry for the many, many runs she did for the Alliance. Sometimes, the fact that they had won at all still seemed utterly surreal. They were creatures perfectly suited for Lovecraftian lore, hulking, massive creatures  that extended and did things beyond human imagination.

And yet… they were like any other piece of machinery. Artificial, metal, wires. A very scary thought, that over the years, they wouldn’t just dispose of the pieces, but reuse them. Shape something new out of it. With any luck, Kasumi would be dead before that bit humanity in the ass.

She shook those thoughts away and located the alleyway from before. There was still a blackened spot from where the proximity mine had gone off, stretching out like tendrils toward the slab that Kasumi landed on. Noticeably, however, was that any shrapnel had been picked up. The slab looked clean and dusted off. Someone was trying to cover their tracks.

Just at her feet, another red light stretched across the width of the alleyway. It was so easy to spot now that there was evidence of a previous detonation. It wasn’t meant as a trap then. More like a security measure. The sound would be picked up by any guards in the area, allowing them to retaliate to whoever wasn’t hurt by the mine, or move the group before they were found. Their camp may be close by then, if they hadn’t been spooked by their visitation from the other day.  

Nothing special. Kasumi had disabled hundreds of mines in her lifetime. A quick scan of her omni-tool and it short-circuited, allowing her to pick up the mine safely and quietly. Initial look and it seemed… simple. Looked to be scrapped together with various shrapnel from old signs if she had to guess. The circuitry of the actual proximity program would be hard to see without opening it up, but she doubted there was anything unique about it. The maker was experienced, that much Kasumi was sure. If they had any resources from outside Earth however, it was probably gone by now.

She kept it for now, and made sure to study the alley closely for anymore. None on this side. Rationing carefully then, or just that confident in whatever guards they had in the area to act quickly. 

The alley opened up to an even larger clearing than the one before, in what Kasumi could only figure was a rather nice square before. There was still remnants of old cobblestone, ones that had been there centuries and lived through more wars than she could count. Street ways that had been there once, brushed over by dirt and grime, cracked into pieces where weeds and grass sprouted in between. The fountain in the middle was in about the same shape, once wondrous and calming, spouting water from a jar a… cherub perhaps? Was holding into a pool that had been empty for some time. Much of the smaller details were lost by the throes of time and war. The curvature of marble surrounding it still stood enough to be a tempting seat for weary walkers.

Likely why she found the spatter of dried blue blood on its rim. Sura mentioned Thyra wasn’t much for walking for long periods. Yet she managed to dodge the proximity mine…?

The east entrance was blocked by a section of broken highway, but the west was clear enough to come through it looked like. She doubted their killer would cover the alleyway and not such a wide berth of area. Too wide for a simple proximity trip though. Perhaps more traditional mines? Kasumi would have to check as she investigated then. A good thing Major gave her mods back.

Well, presumably she died there, unless there was another turian victim in the interim. That narrowed the scope a bit. A sniper would want the highest building they could get. Probably wasn’t any building on the other side of the fountain. Then…

Ah. A parking deck about a 60 degree angle. It was a good place to start, though maybe not the easiest to climb. It was structurally sound, and compared to most parking decks found in say the Citadels or Illium, wasn’t too high. Most parking decks on Earth had been converted to top level access only once skycars became commonplace. Valets would take over parking once an individual skycar landed on the roof, and would be retrieved by the valet when the visitor returned. 

However, employees and visitors still needed an entrance on the ground level. That would be the place to start. She brought up her omni-tool once again to scan the area between the fountain and the parking deck, but kept her eyes on the rooftops and upper levels just in case. No obvious red lights, and a glint of armor would be difficult to spot in the moonlight. She couldn’t see any signs of smoke ventilation or fire, but toward the very top, it looked like there was… haphazard plating maybe? Someone covering holes that were left from various skirmishes. The metal didn’t fit the rest of the building. Where she’d find her camp then.

And no mines based on the scan. Made sense if they have kids or just regular people with them. That lended credence to what Darshan had told them before about it being a settlement. Mines were also extensive to maintain and keep from dumb mercenaries from accidentally killing themselves though. They could just have them installed along the openings. If they had a shuttle or skycar handy, they wouldn’t have to walk out of the clearing ever, though to rely on enough clearance to land was risky in a ruined city. 

The actual entrance facing the square looked caved in sadly, but after a few minutes circling the building, she noticed a discreet sheet of metal ever so slightly askewed. A very small crack in the corner. Peeking inside only showed a thick blanket of darkness within. Could be wearing night vision goggles, but more than likely, the lower level here was unguarded. No obvious signs of tampering for a trap or bomb of some kind. With careful hands, Kasumi peeled the metal back.

Sure enough, no guns suddenly pointed in her direction. Risky to leave their entrance unmanned. If they had a sniper on the roof though, they may have noticed the metal moving. So long as she was careful though, they wouldn’t find her. Any explosive trap was unlikely at this point, unless they wanted to risk blowing the support beams with it. They were left mostly intact, but if Kasumi studied close enough, she’d see the beginning cracks of wear and tear. 

Most of the skycars inside were gutted and cut open, eviscerated of their wiring and circuitry. Where they were getting the shrapnel to make the bombs then. Smart. They had enough there to last them a good while. There was a ramp further back, though it took some climbing to get to it. 

Mostly climbing over corpses. Not human, at least… not anymore. The wiring that stuck out of rotting flesh told her exactly what sort of things that were littering this parking deck. … It looked like they were being gutted too. She hoped just for the wires and not… anything else. Husks and cannibals mostly, one brute that she nearly tripped over as she navigated the darkness, it’s jawless turian skull another of plenty of images that she really, really wished wouldn’t be haunting her to her grave.

She had dreams about it sometimes. Sometimes of being forced onto one of many pikes, feeling it rip through her chest and continue to breathe and survive until she was more metal than bone, more wire than flesh. Other times, it wasn’t the reapers. Other times, it was Cerberus. Finding her again, trying to entice her with a contract, only to--

Oh. Hm. Rudimentary, but effective when electricity wasn’t always available. A simple wire strewn across the bottom of the ramp. Likely went up further to the higher levels. Properly paranoid, then. Kasumi could respect it. She had been fortunate to keep several back up generators for her various security systems at both locations that survived the invasion. She stepped over the wire easily, and then noticed the lone light further up the ramp, stretching long and lonely on the asphalt.

Though the cloak would keep her from being spotted, Kasumi still kept to the outer wall, eying the ground carefully for any scattered rocks or pebbles-- anything that might give away her presence to the guard above. The catsuit wasn’t just for style, fortunately, equipped with various sound dampeners from the padding to her shoulders to the soles of her shoes. A listless guard or two would have a hard time picking up muffled steps.

Just one it seemed. Batarian, as Darshan said. He looked younger, fuller face on him with scuffed up navy armor. The vindicator loose in his hands was in good shape, a couple of mods that focused on power and increased ammo in the thermal clip. Trying to make the best out of every shot it seemed. He sat on an old lawn chair with a flashlight by his feet, the harsh shadows making him seem more intimidating than he actually was. Even from her distance though, Kasumi could see those dark eyes drooping, just a minute or so from dozing off. She slipped past him easily.

Fewer corpses on this level, and she doubted she’d seen any on the next. They were making it a home for themselves clearly. Two more batarians sat on crates around a campfire west from their sleepy friend, conversing to themselves. No tents, but sleeping bags it looked like. She ducked behind a gutted car and tried to listen in.

“Dinner was rough tonight.”

“We’re running low on rations. It’d be nice to go out and actually hunt soon, but…”

“Yeah, I get it. At least the salarian had some nice shit on him--”

“Dumbass, that’s precisely why. You saw the datapads in there yourself!”

Sounded like the STG murder was an accident then. They had plenty of resources as far as scrap metal and wiring went here, so why were they bothering with that? Medical and food supplies maybe? Information would’ve been an obvious decision if it’d been on purpose, but.

“... What are we going to do…?”

“... Just let boss work it out. Everything will be fine, Sakul... alright?”

“Guess we don’t have much choice.”

Didn’t seem worse than the run-of-the-mill mercenary group then. Inconsistent armors, so not likely to be from any major organization or anything. She would be reluctant to just kill a bunch of dumb people for the whole mess, but STG would likely disagree. And they weren’t exactly innocent. They hadn’t regretted Thyra’s death. Not yet anyway. 

They would soon enough though. She crept past their campfire with as much ease and stepped over another wire alarm as she continued her trek up. All too quickly, the dim light that was swallowed by the darkness above. Quiet, too temptingly so. She made sure to wait long enough for her vision to adjust to the change in light. As Kasumi suspected, there weren’t any reaper remnants on this floor. The batarians were doing some clean up, at least. With as much work as they’ve done with their security systems, it wouldn’t surprise her if they planned to stay for a while.

She spotted a glint in the darkness though, off in the corner. A quick flash of her omni-tool and she recognized the turret installed there. Seemed to be turned off though. After a few minutes of menial work, taking and pocketing a wire or two, and Kasumi made sure it would stay that way. 

The fourth and fifth floor were set up much the same, blanketed completely in darkness with a few turrets stationed in various corners and hiding spots. It confirmed that the group was small at least, and the area was too large to cover with manual resources. Sneaking past was hardly a challenge, but she hadn’t had one in a while. Not in the technical aspects anyway. Still, it felt… nice going back to normal for her. She really wasn’t suited for civilian life. Too much monotony and people were just strange. Or hurt to see them.

She wasn’t sure how Sha’ira thought she would be okay with it. Being a consort wasn’t nearly as violent or illegal as her job, but it wasn’t normal either. It wasn’t the 9-5, or just trying to pick up the pieces with family and friends. She was meant for something. 

Maybe they could talk about it later. Maybe it would get the consort from prying too much about the greybox. 

She finally found the camp on the sixth level, just one floor short from the roof. Kasumi could understand the choice. The enclosed space protected them from exposure and the higher elevation kept them from running into vermin species that likely still scurried around London streets. Any lights had long since been extinguished by the time she arrived, save for the campfire that was still glowing brightly, right in the center of the halo of tents. They were close together-- any sound from one would obviously carry to others. 

More batarian guards sitting at the actual fire, too quiet to hear as she watched on the outskirts of the camp. While tempting to listen in on their conversation, it was probably too risky with the amount of tents that were around. By her estimate, there were about 20 or so located in the tents themselves-- a rather large camp for as decimated the hegemony had been by the war. 

She crept along the edge of the camp, hugging the makeshift walls facing the square and the outer walls of the tents. No one would likely pick up any movement at this late from within, but Kasumi wasn’t one to overstay her welcome. The firelight danced lazily against the white, offering brief flickers of shadows inside. Most didn’t have cots or personal effects, it looked like-- sleeping on simple bags or pallets made out of well worn blankets and pillows.

Smaller shapes, others a more feminine contour. Women, children. Not many, but enough. Their tents were closer to the fire, to keep the little ones from getting cold at night. 

… Darshan’s story checked out then. That was going to make this a lot more complicated. STG specialized in extraction though, missions especially like this. While she would have trouble kidnapping someone tonight, perhaps they had a few suggestions that wouldn’t end in unnecessary bloodshed. Or they wouldn’t care-- though Major Kirrahe didn’t strike her as cold. 

The other option of course, would be to take care of the sniper herself. She knew how to make it clean and efficient enough-- perhaps frame the scene as an accident to avoid backlash from the batarians. They were already a bit flighty, considering they murdered one person for just going into their territory. … They might put the blame on STG if she did do it though. If they kept them busy for a while,  it would give her the opportunity to get the logs they had on her and destroy them. Hmm. Didn’t exactly avoid the whole bloodshed thing, but, ah shit. Samara knew she was coming out here tonight.

She would have to meet this sniper and go from there, she supposed. 

Kasumi slipped past the camp, it’s final tent about ten feet or so from the ramp that led up to the roof. She was surprised to see that it was in as good of shape as it was. There was some crumbling along the edges, faded lane paint, but it had little in way of debris. If not for her dampeners, her steps would probably echo on such an empty expanse. The moonlight was bright and clear in the sky above, crescent with all the stars and constellations she had admired before. The view of the city alone must be spectacular. It wouldn’t be so bad as a dating spot, honestly. 

One last wire alarm at the top of the ramp, easily stepped over. The roof had been cleaned up about as well as the lower floors it looked like. A skycar or two that had yet been cleaned of materials. A decrepit alcove where steps were before, now resembling more like a jagged spike sprouting on the pavement. 

Her target was laying on their belly, the concrete rim cleared away to allow the sniper rifle freedom of movement. They had a pale lavender sheet over them to stave off the cold. As Kasumi approached, more personal touches became clearer. They had a flashlight off to the side, keeping them illuminated for any other snipers that could be stationed on neighboring buildings. Stench of overcooked varren meat from a plate left abandoned on the hood of a skycar cleaved in two from a reaper beam. Canteen by the front fender. Yellow tulips beside it. Cute.

By their feet, she recognized the model of the sniper rifle. Standard M-98 Mantis, though the scope looked modded for extended range. Whoever was handling their weapons was very familiar with the modding process. Taking it might have some advantages, but she would need to distract the actual gunman holding it. 

She retreated back, and careful not to alert the guard, picked up the canteen. With a quick under-handed toss, she chucked the canteen closer to the ramp, clinking against the hard ground and denting the well-worn equipment further. She ducked around the other side of the cleaved car, just as the sniper’s head shot up.

“What the fuck?!” 

He looked young too. Small. Smaller than the first guard she ran into on the way up the deck. He had plenty of fat left on his cheeks, not quite developing the small hairs and thick folds that signified adulthood in a batarian. The armor, a deep olive green, barely fit him as he stood to his feet and approached the canteen cautiously. His steps were heavy on the pavement, but he stumbled on every third. 

Just the rifle then. Kasumi moved quickly and quietly to his nest. The rifle was easy to swipe from underneath the sheets, same weight as a typical mantis. She folded it to its resting position, ready to holster it to her back.

Then she heard ringing. Her eyes snapped to the ramp, where the boy had bent over and tugged at the wire with two fingers. Then his eyes caught on hers-- or more likely-- the sniper rifle that appeared to be floating in the air. 

She was too greedy for her own good sometimes.

The young batarian kicked off in a sprint toward her position, fast, but only fists raised. Should be easy enough to incapacitate him and split, but now the batarians would know someone came by. She would have to make this quick. She snapped the sniper rifle to her back and stood, quickly reaching for a flashbang grenade in her back pocket. It’d disorient him and hurt, but--

She thought it was a lunge at first, clearly on a fight response already, but as she saw the sheer panic in his eyes as the momentum took him past her, Kasumi realized he tripped over his own shoes. On his own shoes toward the edge. Without thinking, she snapped a hand out, tightly gripping onto the back of his chest armor, one foot dangling in the open air of the square below. 

“I’ve got you,” she hushed as she noticed his slacked jaw as he stared down. His panicked panting, just at the edge of a scream, wasn’t helping matters any. He looked to the empty space holding him up, already too big eyes comically larger in his panic. Just a kid. Any other time, he may not have even known how to use the rifle she’d stolen from him. 

She released the cloak as she brought him closer, back onto safer ground, just as his ear piece crackled to life.

“Hey. We heard the cans from the roof. Everything alright?” much older voice on the other end. Either one of the more veteran guards on the lower floors or maybe Mr. Boss himself.

She pressed a finger to her own lips, “Just want to talk. Don’t do anything that’ll hurt someone. Especially you.”

The boy looked behind him, to the open air he had been just a split second from tumbling into, and just to emphasize her point, she tightened the grip on his collar, locking it tightly in her fingers. He gulped, visibly. “... Everything’s fine. Just accidentally tripped it dropping my canteen.”

“Be more careful, will you? Had about half the building in a panic.”

“S-sorry.”

The communication cut off, and Kasumi released him. His shoulders sagged immediately, though looked a bit lost now without the rifle in his hands. He kept looking at it on her back, as if trying to decide how to pry it off. “... What-- who are you?” though he kept his voice quiet. Smart.

She shrugged. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood. How old are you?”

The boy hesitated before sitting down on the lavender sheet, rubbing the back of his neck. It looked a bit too warm for spring, with wool like texture. Maybe they nabbed it in the city somewhere. Kasumi was half-tempted to ask where they got it. “... 13.” His eyes wouldn’t meet her, even under the shade of her hood.

“Bit young to be killing people, isn’t it?” Still, she sat down across from him, trying to keep him calmed down, keep him from alerting those below. “How long have you been using this rifle?”

“What’s it to you?” He pressed on his ear piece, but Kasumi quickly held a finger up, tsking.

“Let’s not do that,” and she flashed her omni-tool, just enough to illustrate her point. “Overloading comms can knock out your hearing for a long time.” The boy deflated, arm loosely dropping, knuckles slightly scraping against the concrete. “I appreciate it. And really, I’m not trying to cause trouble. Just need to get a few details before I go.”

“About what?”

“Oh, just a couple things, really. Are you always the one manning this roof?”

“... Me or my dad. We take turns.”

“Do you remember a turian girl that came by a few days ago? Was it your dad that shot her?”

“... Oh…” He turned away from her, stretching out on the blanket as he peered over the edge. Back to her-- one of the worst things anyone could do in the terminus systems. He hadn’t been raised in the worst of it then. “... Figures you’d come for that.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not the worst of it, but I can keep your dad out of trouble,” she tilted her head, trying to catch his gaze. “You don’t have to protect him, and if you can convince him to--”

“I shot her.”

She was afraid he’d say that. On the bright side, STG would handle it better than the Alliance would, she’d imagine. They were a calculating bunch, but they didn’t have as much history as humanity did with them. It churned her stomach to even consider putting some teen in handcuffs though, not when he was just trying to protect his family. “I’m sorry. That’s a lot to put on you. Was that your first time?”

He finally looked at her, and the fragility behind his heavy gaze broke her heart. “... The wind’s different here than back home. I just meant to scare her off…”

“No one’s perfect.”

“... You’re weird for a human.” Still, he seemed pretty calm, and no one else had noticed her yet. Kasumi had located her suspect, but the others didn’t have to know, did they? “Dad said I need to be more careful. Batarians always get the bad rap, so we have to assume the worst and behave the best.”

“He sounds like a smart man,” ah but the fact that he was still alive, “Was he… well, you know.”

The boy’s brow furrowed. “He learned his lesson, if that’s what you’re asking. Said a-- a miskha -- a monster, I think is what you guys say? … Roughed him up real badly. He can’t really move much anymore, so we use sniper rifles instead.”

She’d heard that word before, though from where Kasumi couldn’t quite place. Legends from her old masters perhaps, horror stories they’d share with one another around the campfire as the varrens nipped at her heels and the whispers tugged and pulled at her. It wasn’t a kind word. Heavier than monster. Like a beast, beyond comprehension. 

“... Thank you,” Kasumi said and stood. She had plenty enough to think in any case. Easier to target the dad then. Easier to spin a former slaver back in the business, or… just trying to survive. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t nice. But she would take a former slaver’s blood over a kid’s any day. 

“Ma’am?” He called after a moment, just before she could really make the move to leave. “... What are you going to do now?”

Talk with Zaeed. See if he had any experience framing someone for murder. It wouldn’t do him any comfort. Telling him the truth, or even bringing up the STG would just hurt him. “Couple more passes around the neighborhood, I guess~. Night’s still young.” She stretched her arms, ready to switch the cloak back on, then heard the click of a heavy pistol behind her.

Oh, kid. Don’t do this. She offered a placid smile as she glanced to his hands. Carnifex, standard model. It was a favorite of hers back on the Normandy. Unfortunately for him, she had assembled and disassembled, modded, and overloaded far too many to be worried about it pointed at her face. 

“You’re gonna tell those salarians right? … I’m gonna die.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Don’t.”

Finger too close to the trigger. She sighed and swiped her omni-tool quickly, efficiently. Kasumi had done it hundreds of times at this point. Just a second delay, almost where the boy was squeezing the trigger, before the carnifex sparked and exploded in his hands. 

The jolt of electricity and fire was quick and immediate. The boy screamed out in pain as he threw the pistol aside. The charred, burning flesh nauseated her, a stench that had permeated constantly throughout the war. Please. Let it be enough. 

He dug his heel and charged her. Kasumi braced for the weight against her, but she wasn’t a heavy woman. Her head hit the ground hard as he toppled them both over, burned hands fumbling between strangling her or reaching for the sniper rifle behind her back. She curled her fists tight and threw it as hard as she could against the boy’s jaw, but he just wouldn’t get off. Instead he matched blow for blow, cracking a burnt knuckle against her eye socket.

She gritted her teeth and squirmed best she could for her back pocket for a flashbang, but suddenly felt one of those hands on sleek metal around her waist. The locust!

The omni-blade barely registered before it sank into the side of his chest, sliding perfectly between plates of armor and rib bones. His hands froze immediately, and he slumped against her, blood gurgling from his mouth. Kasumi sucked in a deep breath, trying to soothe the heavy pounding her heart. Let the adrenaline wash out of her. Eyes closed. Counted a few seconds. 

He was still alive, but not for long. Where the omni-blade landed would’ve punctured his lungs. While quick, it would be very painful. Numbly, she took the boy’s shoulders and pushed him off. He flopped like deadweight onto his back. Not much longer. She was sorry. So, so sorry.

She replaced her carnifex when she had left. Swiped a suppressor from a drunk soldier on Illium. That man was probably dead now too. She placed the muzzle on his temple and squeezed the trigger once. Any gasps, gurgles, halted movements of his chest-- they stopped immediately. 

Sloppy. So, so sloppy. So messy.

She took the earpiece.

“Korem?! What’s going on up there?! The guys on sixth said they heard screaming.”

What the fuck was wrong with her?

They would be up there any minute. It would be tricky to get out without a distraction splitting some of the forces. She peered over at the corpse beside her and sighed. 

Korem’s body crunched on impact, red and flesh mingling with the white pavement as it spattered in wild directions. 

“What the hell was that?! Someone go check that! Sixth floor, roof ASAP!”

“Oh, god, I’m sorry--”

Kasumi spared one last glance to memorize the shape of the broken body, his face frozen in horror as he stared unblinking to the starry sky, and tossed the ear piece over the roof with him. By the time the guards arrived to scope out the horror Kasumi left behind, her cloak was already activated, and she walked past-- letting the unfolding chaos and anguish distract from her exit.

--

Someone was calling again.

Somewhere, somehow in her hazy mind, Kasumi found herself sitting atop the graffiti wall, legs dangling over and staring upward. The air had cooled, and her right eye kept tearing. Bruising probably. Maybe some irritation from dirt and grime on that child’s hands. Child. She killed a child. What was she--

“Kasumi?”

Her hand clasped over her mouth as she felt the bile rise in her throat and swallowed, ignoring how the acid burned in her throat. No. Not right now. Deep breath. “Hey…” and she hated how steady her voice sounded. “I thought you’d be asleep already.”

Sha’ira sounded unsteady, as if unsure how to broach the topic. Her voice had more air to it than usual too-- still tired probably. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, “I was worried, but wasn’t sure you would answer a call right now.”

 “I… I was lonely, I guess. I usually don’t.” 

“Are you okay?”

 No. She was going to have to spend the rest of the night trying to find a canal or something to scrub the catsuit while trying not to vomit. She would have to explain her black eye in the morning to everyone, and she would have to explain that one of their big scary killers was a child, and she had just used his body to escape a hellfire of bullets. She wanted to scream. She wanted to go home and hold Keiji, or his image, or just feel something, anything else right now. 

“... Where are you right now?”

“I’ll be back soon. I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s kinda hard to see right now.”

“Kasumi.”

She didn’t want to be alone. But then Sha’ira would see this, and -- “Do you know where the nearest river is? Or like… a body of water?”

No hesitation, no pauses. Kasumi could even hear the smile on the other side. “I’ll bring a change of clothes. Whatever happened… we’ll get through it. Together.”

At least, it’d give her a chance to plan. They would be coming back for her, and she sure as hell wouldn’t fault them for it. 

--

As it turned out, an actual, functioning canal wasn’t super far from there. It was hardly clean, and absolutely guaranteed, she would smell like sewage or worse if she even tried. The canal’s water was moving though, which meant it had a better chance of being sterile than any other body of water that wasn’t an actual fucking river. It was water. It was flowing in a canal that was only holding itself together by the seams. Bridges connecting one side to another completely fallen apart, edges and sidewalks broken, husk corpses-- some of which were not-so pleasantly floating in the water.

It didn’t matter, because the blood was coming off. She had found a spot where the sidewalk had partially caved, providing a perfect ramp to the water. She had stripped off her catsuit with frightening efficiency and submerged the whole thing-- allowing her balled fists to stretch against the leather. The pads would take longer to dry, but fuck it. She didn’t care right now. She just wanted the blood off.

The first time it happened was on Omega, and she was a lot fresher faced and a lot more stupid. Eclipse merc used a hostage. Thought she wouldn’t go that far. Had, and wished she hadn’t. Kiera lectured her for days for how sick she felt. Kids didn’t know better. They couldn’t know better. They were just put in places by dumb adults and then dumber adults killed them. The recovery should have made them more important, but it didn’t and now a thirteen year old was dead. 

She couldn’t blame his father for it. He should have been safe on the roof with six floors of batarians with more experience between. Korem was old enough to want to contribute, and so he did. 

What could, should she tell the others? There wasn’t any framing to do now, but with how she left the place, the batarians would be going after STG next. Convenient for the shit she needed to get back, but it wasn’t their fault. They didn’t tell her to go. They didn’t tell her to kill a kid. And the truth… she wasn’t sure she could admit it. She never needed to the few times it had to happen. It’d been so long. It hurt. It hurt so bad. She didn’t even realize how badly until she was sitting on that stupid wall and that stupid call came in.

She shouldn’t care. It should be easy to just walk away. Take the shuttle, let them deal with the mess, and forget this ever happened. But she did care. She cared before those stupid batarians took her, before she met Keiji, before he died, before the fucking normandy. She wasn’t a monster that could just remove those thoughts and feelings aside. She wasn’t--

“Kasumi, I brought-- oh!”

And to Sha’ira, she probably looked a bit crazy at the moment. It’s not like she had a change of clothes with her when she stripped. So here was the consort, coming to help her friend in the middle of the night and finding her hunched over by a canal in her underwear, scrubbing at a catsuit and mumbling to herself. This was not a great look. Yeoman Chambers would’ve had a field day with that psych write-up. She wondered how she was doing. Probably not great. Few former Cerberus operatives were these days.

“Apologies. I imagine someone in your occupation would prefer some courtesy. I can turn around if you’d like. … I just thought you would be in the water already.”

The stench in her catsuit was going to be hard enough to get rid of. She didn’t need her whole body smelling like it. Did the consort seem a bit flustered? That surprised her. She peered over her shoulder, making out the curvature of Sha’ira back as she faced away and poised as gracefully as ever, and tried not to smile so wide. “The sewage smell isn’t the most appealing,” Kasumi remarked and pulled her catsuit from the water. Most of the blood was off, but a few spots were staining the pads. Ugh. “You can look by the way~. Just no cameras, of course.”

“Promise.” Though the offer was made, Kasumi didn’t really expect her to take it. The turn was quiet, barely discernible, but curious eyes studying her was obvious enough. It seemed fair after dragging her out of camp in the early morning hours, even though the offer had been reluctantly accepted on her part. She kept at her work however, this time finally separating the padding from the rest of the leather. The dried blood and stench nearly made her gag. 

Sha’ira stepped closer, less subtle steps, until standing just above her and studying the fabric that Kasumi was so desperately trying to get the stains out of. “... You’re injured.”

“Oh, it’s just bruising. It’ll be gone in a day or so.”

“Not a scratched cornea?” Probably not. Fists usually didn’t do that… she didn’t think. In any case, she could see fine, even if it was just a little blurry sometimes. What cybernetic work she had usually covered any surface hurt that could come out of a fight. Though the black eye would be hard to explain away once she did make it back to camp. Zaeed wouldn’t give a shit at least. “... I really am glad you’re alright.” 

She was never really in danger in the first place. It’s what she hated about thinking on her feet. Sometimes, Kasumi would come back and find about ten different plans that would’ve been plenty better than whatever stupidity adrenaline put her in. That ability to act, to not be paralyzed by fear or the unexpected, kept her alive for so long. But a great thief would never be in that situation in the first place. 

Sha’ira gripped her shoulder, squeezing once. The touch on her bare skin was temptingly warm, and distinctly, Kasumi remembered how much she craved.

Then she heard clothing shift as Sha’ira stood, and she turned her head back to her companion just in time to spot bare blue skin. Kasumi bit the urge to bawk as Sha’ira tossed her dress aside. “What are you doing?”

“It’s not ideal. I would agree with that. However, I do have perfumes to help mitigate the smell,” she offered casually, and Kasumi tried, very hard, to remember that nudity was more a human issue of decency than an asari one. This was fine. As if to emphasize its casualness and not a continuing symptom of Kasumi’s spiralling madness, Sha’ira stepped to the water’s edge, and without so much as a toe dip to test the temperature, submerged herself in murky depths. 

It was only a second later that she re-emerged by Kasumi’s hands, taking the soft padding between her own fingers and eying the fabric with a critical eye. The water was about chest-level, though Sha’ira hardly paid any mind to how odd the situation looked as she squeezed the fabric, letting the water it held to drip back into the canal. “I may have stain remover back in my tent. Though for blood, I would recommend bleach. I suppose if I had an idea on the material, I could make do with a combination of agents...”

The plain black bra was already soaked through. Kasumi was a bit surprised the fabric wasn’t sheer enough to be translucent from the water. Her freckles extended down to her shoulders, only becoming a lighter dusting as they approached the valley of her breasts. She… wasn’t in shape. It was actually sort of nice to see. She clearly took care of her body, but it wasn’t hardlined of muscle, of scars nicking her skin, and old war stories that never really went away in a person’s head. Her eyes curved easily with her smile, even as it looked odd examining bloodied material. Her hands weren’t calloused, long fingers that didn’t know strain as well as she did. 

Her smile widened just a little as Sha’ira spoke. “You must have a lot on your mind.”

She considered the padding between them and shrugged before tossing it back on the concrete shore. It landed in a rather unimpressive thump, joining the rest of the leather of her catsuit. Then, Kasumi eyed her with a half-hearted skepticism. “If I still stink after your dosing when we get back, I’m going to be pissed at you.”

“In my defense, your hands have already been in the water for a while, but I promise. You won’t leave my tent until you smell like roses, Kasumi.” And she waded herself a few feet back, giving Kasumi enough space to join her in the water. 

She slid in the water feet first and drew in a hiss as the chills ran up her spine. It wasn’t like ice, which she counted her blessings for, but cold water on an even colder evening was not pleasant. And Sha’ira had to have a damn good poker face not let that show when she dipped in.

The consort chuckled as she came closer, though refused to address Kasumi’s discomfort directly. “When was the last time anyone had seen you completely?”

An odd way to phrase nearly naked. “... Not since my partner? I’m sure Cerberus was a bit displeased with me disabling their cameras to ensure that.”

Sha’ira looked taken aback. “I… I can’t imagine you working for them for very long.”

“Oh! Oh no. That was with Shepard. And it was very much in the contract that it was a one-time deal. I just needed some extra help getting the…” Kasumi hesitated, though there was little point in it. “... Getting the greybox.”

“... Your partner was killed then?”

“Yeah. For the greybox.”

Sha’ira seemed pensive for a long moment, clearly different thoughts and suggestions coming together. Some being disregarded, others entertained more. She settled on one eventually though as she reached out, thumb lightly grazing against her bruised cheek before reaching the back of her skull, tracing the horizontal scar gnarled and aged in her olive skin. “... Is that how you got this?”

“No,” Kasumi admitted. “... That one’s been there for a while.”

“It’s deep. How old?”

“Ten.”

There was understanding there, sad but not pitying. It hadn’t surprised her that up close, Sha’ira recognized the scar for what it was. In her worst days, she thought she still heard the whispers and threats to her life if she didn’t obey. Sometimes, it felt like the plate was still there-- burning and itchy. But it wasn’t, and truly, it did make getting the greybox surgery much easier. The pain and recovery was nothing compared to that plate burning into her skin. Nothing compared to that. 

Her hand brushed through the shaved underside, through the short wisp of hair that had grown long enough in the front to brush into her eyes sometimes, and found the long, thin scar across her temple. “And this?”

“Sniper just barely missed. You know you’ll be at this for a while if you do this for everything?”

Sha’ira pulled her hand away, though the hum in her voice hadn’t completely left. “I hadn’t known until…”

“Yeah. My back tends to scare a lot of people. That’s what the tattoos are for.”

“This may surprise you, but you are remarkably well put together for someone that has gone through as much as you have.” She hesitated again, and she could feel her eyes following the path and lines of her skin-- what was undoubtedly a stark contrast to her own. Not just in the color either. Her olive skin had paled even further over the years of being in the shadows, and her skin had toned. Light enough to carry herself through the smallest nooks and crannies, but muscled just enough to get her from point A to point Z without taking the sidewalk. However, learning how to be a thief was hardly an easy walk in the park.

Some were from varren bites, lashes and beatings from old masters. She had the bullet holes and burns to prove her disastrous run-in in Illium, more from small incidents like tonight, others…

The tattoos were meant for covering others. She wasn’t the full body treatment like Jack, but she had a few. It was nice when she was younger and hated the skin she had been left with after so long. Abstract paintings were needled in mostly, splashes of color and whims that an old Omega roommate had illustrated beautifully. They dotted from the back of her neck to her shoulder blades, and even now when she would get the chance to look, she would admire the handiwork. There were other, smaller touches. Rose and thorns-- cliched but sentimental along her other hip, and her most recent addition, ‘SR-2’ on her right bicep. It took a lot of haggling to keep that artist quiet.

Her haircut was something more impressive once, but it wasn’t as if she had access to a hairdresser at the moment. The undercut did enough of a job, no matter how much Khalisah wanted to tease her about it. She used to have it longer, tied up in a bun like her grandmother had done before-- but it was so impractical. A few untimely somersaults and she would have wild black strands getting everywhere. It was a liability more than anything.

It was also very strange being studied like she was. There hadn’t been as much pressure as it was back when Kasumi had enough clothes to cover the most identifying parts of herself. Yet, there was something so inherently benign in the way Sha’ira observed her-- as if natural, as if there wasn’t anything else to do or worry about. 

She tried to lighten the mood. At least a little. “You make me feel like I should be posing or something~”

“It’s not necessary.” And Sha’ira smiled, and oh, there were only a few inches between them. She saw the water droplets slip lazily along the curvatures of her skin, separating in one valley and joining at another. Her hand fit easily along the lining of her jaw, nails lightly scratching as she held her. “... I want to memorize this. Like a rare flower found in the depths of a forest. I know how unique this is.”

So. Kasumi was being pampered. She knew this game too well to be bashful. She held her gaze, letting the smile ease onto her lips.

“Your arms were shaking before,” Sha’ira observed. “This is much better, isn’t it?”

It was hard to say. 

“Tell me what happened?”

“I killed a kid today.” The confession came out without a thought.

She felt the other hand fit around the other side, this time more careful, deliberate. “What happened?” she asked again. Maybe too close. It didn’t matter. The very look dared her to try and pull away. 

“I told him not to, but I freaked him out. … He killed Thyra. He just wanted to live.”

“Was he trying to--”

“I stabbed him and dumped his body over the parking deck.” Didn’t matter what he was doing. Samara would kill her for that alone, and the batarians would assume it was the STG. They didn’t know who she was. No matter how that conflict ended, more people would die and it would be her fault. The boy’s body was a broken jigsaw by the time it crunched against the pavement. If she studied close enough, pulled it from the depths of her own greybox, she could see every detail, down to those empty eyes starring above and how his arms and legs weren’t supposed to bend like that-- wondered how long Thyra’s death had stuck inside him, like every first kill did to someone. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t remember every detail, fully knowing she always would. She always would remember the exact shape his body made on the pavement, the way he gurgled and suffocated from the puncture in his lungs, from the beginnings of rot and blood overtaking the overcooked varren still left on his plate. She remembered everything because she had to. 

Sha’ira wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her tight against her. She barely registered her head resting against the crook of her shoulder, but as she felt those same uncalloused hands comb through black hair, soothing and gentle, she let her eyes flutter closed.

She didn’t deserve it, but Kasumi couldn’t find it in her to turn Sha’ira away.

[jlf23tumble]

Happy birthday to Lauren!

What is it with all these Virgos, amirite??? Birthday upon birthday, and I’m actually in Seattle at the mo, so I sort of rushed this off before I went and queued it up to run while I was out...fingers crossed all hell hasn’t broken loose, rendering this post the dude with the pizza gif, lmao. 

@kingsofeverything, I hope you’re having a luxurious birthday weekend, soaking up some well-deserved love, pizza gif man be damned! My post for you is merch related because I know how much you all-caps LOVE dot IT. And I’ve done a ton of merch posts in the past, but this one’s focused on things you can--nay, SHOULD--buy, like, tomorrow (alas, no beer koozie...yet). Before we dive deeper, I feel like it’s my civic duty to tell you that this item is back on the market, Amazon says only 14 left, run, don’t walk, I stg Zayn is holding my remote together through sheer force of tape magic:

What other wonders await you? More under the cut!

Let’s start where all lazy people start, Amazon, and spoiler alert, this game is one and fucking DONE, as soon as you know Niall’s a Virgo, you’re halfway to the backstage pass that IS this game’s ultimate goal (still, fun to do whilst drunk):

I feel like this is a cursed image because it has the vibe of “this is what you see when you wake up from a coma in some kind of fever-hell dream,” but maybe throw this fluffy blanket version in the trunk?? Surprise the AAA guy?

There’s a special place in Pasadena that plays Christian rock versions of One Direction songs, but this one’s probably a similar way to recreate the experience...and for one dollar (assuming you can’t find it on YouTube)!

I can’t even imagine how deep a dive you need to go in merch territory to want to wake up to an olde timey alarm clock with the C Suite of the Crayola team, but you have the option:

The best part of this terrible item? It got a one-star review...because the "artist” who created it didn’t even put this terrible image on it, there’s a full group shot instead, the horror for that particular harrie!

Okay, now that you’ve seen the worst, let’s take a look at the best, and Etsy’s where it’s at, support these guys! And if I were a better person, I would have saved their URLs, but I didn’t, so just type Louis Tomlinson in the search bar...you don’t have to go further than two pages deep to get this gold, yessss, Louis finally joins the ranks of Harry and Drake in the car air freshener trifecta:

I would love to see this hanging up in someone’s fancy house, some faceless spank-hands abstract ART:

I still call bullshit on this, but whatevs, this is cute, and I love it, along with every single pin up on Etsy, my GOD, are people creative up in that piece:

I legit love that this is for sale in the year of our lorde 2019, but you, too, can ironically enjoy all kinds of related merch, much like Harry Styles and his mom kink vintage shirts:

I wish I had more time to do more, but I hope you had an amazing day regardless, Lauren!! Thanks for all your hard fic-pimp work! You’re an inspiration!!

[bewareofchris]

tumblr mobile just recommended a pro-Steve anti-Tony blog to me and stg that upon reading about 10 posts from said blog I have NEVER been more dedicated to siding against Steve Rogers in every single instance.  It’s not even that I necessarily disagree with some of the things, its just that I’m 200% spite on the inside.

Oh my God.

And for the last fucking time, because this is important, Tony Stark did not build Ultron all by himself.  He did not wake up in the morning, decide to kill the planet, and set about building a fucking robot to do it.  His fear was tapped into and aggravated and he made a stupid choice that he convinced his friend to follow and he probably knew he shouldn’t, but ON HIS OWN, Tony could NOT have built Ultron.  Ultron ONLY succeeded because of the Mind Stone.  It literally says that in the movie.

Thor: Their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself, they all came from the Mind Stone, and they're nothing compared to what it can unleash. But with it on our side...

Now.  We all need to accept that Tony Stark made choices that led to a situation where the Mind Stone could create Ultron.  He did make those choices.  Things did escalate and people were hurt or killed as a result.  That is 100% undeniable.  (So now we know, if someone’s gotta carry the ring to Mordor, Tony is straight out.)

But if intentions matter (and remember I just spent all this time reading nonsense on the internet) then Tony’s intention to PROTECT THE PLANET should matter.  (Kind of like the bullshit post I just read that tried to blame Tony for not reading the info-dump of information Natasha put on the internet after Winter Soldier because I too often blame someone for not already knowing I was keeping things from them when I get caught protecting my friend who choked their Mother to death.)

But again, most important, everything that’s wrong with the MCU can be explained by the constant conflict-driven bullshit writing.  Literally everything. 

[sundried-tomatoes24]

1, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 21, 22, 23, 24, 28, 29, 30

1. Uhhhh, big heck yeah

8. Maybe?? Not entirely sure but I know now to trust my head more than my heart even thought my brain is shit #thanks shitty life lessons

9. That whole January/February shitshow ngl. A lot happened in the span of three weeks that I was not prepared to handle but much has happened since then; more good than bad surprisingly, so it’s been good to take a breather and reflect back on it with a somewhat clearer head.

10. I don’t have many love songs ngl, just songs I associate my certain folk and how I interpret them? Movement, Le Vie en Rose, our time is short, and Wrecking ball (by that Eric church(?) guys, not Miley Cyrus good god)

11. Sweet Jesus, a bit of both honestly. I pane in my lonesome from a distance but as soon as I come within like ten feet of any lass, apparently I throw off a shitload of BDE and sometimes I feel it and I know I may be pushing it but eh I am a confident human when my heart speaks instead of my head.

12. Idk, anything both of us enjoy really. Pretty much if it fills any of these boxes: it’s enjoyable, we both like it, it’s not boring, I get to spend time with the person whom I enjoy my time with. Oh shit, camping or hiking would be really fun though! Idk something about just being free from all the bullshit and having less a barrier between yourself and the sky really gets me.

13. ....I’m gonna let you think about that one for a sec. The last person I kissed was a straight boy. I am a lesbian(shocking, I know). I’d say no.

14. God yes, please don’t let me think about that any longer please.

15. Umm yeah, peep about half my poems lol because I am not nearly as musically talented to even come close to writing a song.

16. Idk prolly just talk to them and try to make them laugh because it is honest to god one of my favourite sounds in the world

21. Again, it’s interpretation for the most part.

The sweetest and most heavenly of activities partake in some measure of violence—the act of love, for instance.”-a clockwork orange

“It’s not who’s in front but who’s beside/it’s all that came before and what it provides/all those who held the line/who wouldn’t bow down and resign/it’s not the waking, it’s the rising.”—Hozier

22. Nope

23. Uhh, part of me hopes they do but they other half would sort of be glad if they didn’t to prevent potential Awkwardness ngl. Do I know I they do though? Not at all, no.

24. 👏SET👏IT👏UP👏

28. One of the following: Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius or Pisces. Which one it is though, I will not be providing that information as of this evening, folks.

29. Big yup, and I stg I wish I’d never let that happen.

30. I don’t really have a type?? Not that I know of tbh but honestly all my crushes have been scattered over the type spectrum soooo? Pretty much just be a woman and someone I don’t hate my time with?? Soemone I can share laughs and adventures with, even in the most unconventional of places and times. Someone who I can fall more in love with the more time i spend with them or the more I learn about them.