#i miss his pink visor though

[toxiccaves]

Just revealed: Metal Cardbot season 2 will feature a fresh new design for our protag, Blue Cop S!

There have also been closer looks at the other new character's we've received sneak peeks of so far over on SAMG's Toy Dev Twitter, including their alt modes:

[lovebugism]

Eddie x Gareths sisterrrrr????? Like Romeo and Juliet type stuff where Gareth is like my sister is NOT dating you

thanks so much for your request, anon!! i had so much fun writing it!! there isn't much conflict with gareth, but i hope you like it anyway! jealous!eddie x girly!reader (1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Gareth picks you up from the mall at six o’clock sharp.

You say goodbye to your friends, all of them wearing the same tank top and pleated skirt duo you’re in, before getting into the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. You’re dressed too nicely to be sat in such a beaten-up thing. Too pretty for it, too.

“Wanna get something to eat?” the boy asks as he pulls out of the parking lot, talking over the Dio song blaring on the radio.

He’s wearing his usual flannel vest over a tattered Metallica tee. The former is riddled with various vintage pins fitting for a metalhead. Down to his skull necklace, ripped jeans, and dirty sneakers — the two of you couldn’t be more different.

You flip down the visor and use the mirror to put on a swipe of glittery lipgloss. You feel almost naked without it. “Slurpees?” you offer before smacking your mouth to spread the sparkly glaze.

“That’s so not dinner,” Gareth laughs as he shakes his sandy curls. 

You arch a manicured brow in his direction. “Got a better idea?”

“Nope,” he concedes, popping the ‘p.’

He’s got too much of a soft spot for you to deny you of anything. Perks of being the youngest sibling, you suppose.

You feel butterflies fluttering like crazy in your stomach, their wings brushing the edges of your ribcage as he pulls into the gas station — and it’s not because of the $1 Slurpees. Your stepbrother’s best friend, Eddie Munson, usually deals drugs in the back parking lot on weekends. Like the absolute dreamboat he is. 

It’s been days since you last saw him. Six of them, to be exact, but it’s not like you’re counting or anything.

While Gareth waits in line to pay for your drink and his food, you decide to quell your yearning. It’s much more like a hunger, though. Whatever innocent crush you used to have is far more salient now. You miss Eddie like a dinner you didn’t get to eat — noticeably empty, weakened without his smile to bring you back to life.

You round the corner to the back lot and find him flipping through a wad of cash. He leans against the brick wall with one dirty sneaker kicked up against it. Despite the middle of summer head, he hasn’t yet forgone his leather jacket and dark denim jeans duo. He looks killer, as usual — so you could only imagine how he’d look out of them.

When he hears the sound of footsteps scuffing against pavement, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze is halfway hidden beneath his fluffy bangs before he turns to face you wholly. 

He grins at the sight of you, and you fill whole again.

“Hi, Teddy,” you greet with a smile, stained blue from your raspberry Slurpee.

He rises on both feet and tucks the money into the back pocket of his baggy jeans. His head tilts to his shoulder as he looks at you, too cute for his own good. “Whatcha doin’ out here, princess?”

Your stomach flutters at the nickname you’ve heard too many times to count. 

“Came to see you,” you shrug innocently, curling your smile around the straw of your drink.

Eddie beams, brows raising in amusement and cheeks reddening at your answer. He hopes you’re too far away to see his cheeks glowing as pink as they are now. He’d just blame it on the summer heat, anyway. 

“Really?” he lilts, voice light and airy with mirth.

You shrug as you swallow down the fruity slushy. “Gareth brought me for Slurpees.”

“How sweet.”

“Right?” you hum with a blue-tinted smirk, slowing when you finally reach the boy. His weed-tinged, woody musk envelopes you completely — he might as well be embracing you. “Best brother ever.”

Gareth isn’t really your brother, despite how often you call him that. You’re related by marriage, not by blood. You’ve known him your entire life, though, so you figure you might as well be.

Eddie knows this, so he smiles and takes a rather dramatic step back from you. “And that is exactly why I have to stay approximately three feet away from you at all times, princess.”

“Why’s that?” you squint at him.

When you take another step closer, he takes two more back.

“‘Cause he’s been threatening to beat my ass about dating you since we were thirteen.”

A smile quirks the right side of your lips. “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you lilt.

Eddie’s brows raise at the mischievous inflection in your words. This time when you step towards him, he stays in place. “You’d really do that to him? To the ‘best brother ever?’”

You take another daring step towards him. Your chin tilts up to look at him in your ever-shortening proximity. “I’ve done far worse things than think his best friend is hot, Teddy.”

“Yeah?” the boy coos, chocolate eyes dancing with amusement as his chin dips to his chest to peer down at you. He makes the mistake of looking lower — at your breasts in your pretty little tank top and the silver of your stomach showing beneath the hem. He wants so desperately to hold you, despite everything that tells him he shouldn’t. His best friend, namely.

“And what’s that, princess?” the boy croons to you.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you blink innocently up at him, then shrug. “Sorry.”

Eddie knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he is. 

You’re not his, but god, you were so good at making him feel like you were. You were around so often, always so sweet in your way — sometimes, it felt like you really did belong to him. The thought of his girl with someone else makes him feel like puking.

Jealousy radiates from him like steam, palpable enough for you to feel. 

You grin.

“Don’t worry, Teddy,” you singsong, taking another goddamn step closer. Eddie knows he should be taking a thousand more backward, but your chest brushes his torso and he forgets how to walk. “I only have eyes for you.”

The boy swallows through a tightening throat. He nods for a moment, trying to work up the courage to use his voice. He’s scared that it’ll break, and he’ll lose all cool points with you. And he’s the rockstar, the older brother’s best friend — he can’t possibly have that.

“Good to know,” Eddie finally nods.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, though. Might have to find some other metalhead to give me attention.”

Your smile widens when his jaw clenches, honeyed glaze hardening at the thought of you finding someone else. Your heart flutters when you realize that he sees you as his. He’s already been yours for a long, long time.

Gareth calls your name from a distance, muffled and far away. It’s nearly inaudible, but it knocks Eddie from his stupor all the same. “You should go, princess.” 

“My parents usually go to bed around nine. Gareth’s usually sucking in the ceiling by eleven,” you maunder suddenly, wide eyes sparkling with roguishness. “If you park your van a few houses down around midnight, no one will be the wiser…”

“You want me to sneak into your bedroom?” Eddie laughs softly to himself. He hasn’t done that since he was sixteen. He thought he was over chasing girls like that. Turns out, he wasn’t really. Not when it came to you, at least.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a firm nod, lips wrapping around the red straw of your slushy right after.

“And what’s in it for me, huh?”

Truth be told, Eddie couldn’t give a shit. He already knows he’ll be at your house at 12 o’clock sharp, climbing up your trellis like some kind of offbeat Spiderman. He just wants to hear you tell him something, anything — a wish for him to go on for the next several hours while he’s stuck dealing in the heat, thinking about you.

You don’t answer him with words.

You rise on the tips of your toes, holding onto your Slurpee with one hand and using your free one to cup his cheek. You usher the boy softly towards you as you press your mouth to his. And it’s not the most heated kiss in the world or anything — just a languid, honeyed thing that makes your lips lock like they were made to do it.

Eddie’s idling hands rise to your waist. His ringed fingers squeeze the bare skin of your sides as he sighs against your mouth. You taste cold and sweet — like blue raspberry and ice and lipgloss — his savior in this heat. The tip of his nose smushes against the side of yours, desperate to melt with you entirely. He thinks it might be close to possible, having you so close in the sweltering summer evening.

He’s breathless when you pull away from him.

“More of that,” you answer through labored breaths. “And maybe a little extra, if you’re good.”

Eddie doesn’t bother denying his want for you anymore. Fuck it, he’ll just fight his best friend. He can take a punch if he has to, but he’s not sure Gareth could even throw one — especially not at the boy he’s known for practically half his life.

“Your bedroom’s the last window on the light, right?” Eddie asks through rosy, kiss-bitten lips.

“Yeah,” you grin, backing slowly away from him. “I’ll leave my light on.”

He nods until the words catch up with him. “Okay.”

“See you then, Teddy.”

When you turn the corner for the main parking lot, Eddie can finally breathe again. 

The air is noticeably less sweet without you around.

[huggybearluvr]

hey! Can I request a fic with Luke Hughes? Like all the brothers and their friends are golfing at the lake house in the summer and they come across a girl that’s insanely good at golfing. They can tell that Luke seems to have a little crush and he’s all flustered and she’s super cocky about it???

love your work btw :)))

pretty boy | lh43

summary: While golfing with the boys Trevor introduces you to the group, and almost, immediately you can tell that the youngest of the boys has a little crush on you. You can't help but be a little cocky about it.

Masterlist

After Trevor texted you inviting you golfing. You got up from your bed quickly pulling your hair up into a claw clip. You headed over to your dresser pulling out a white golf skirt. You slipped it on heading over to your closet pulling out your grey nike tee. You slipped that on as well heading to that bathroom.

You threw on some light make-up and then brushed out your hair pulling it into a pony. You grabbed your visor and sun glasses heading to the living space to grab you keys.

You hoped in your car heading over to the valley club.

You pulled in beside a black range rover, the car Trevor told you he would be pulling up into the club with.

You hopped out of your car opening the trunk looking over to see the boys doing the same.

"Hey," Trevor greeted pulling you into a hug.

"Hey Trev! How have you been doing?" You asked with a smile on your face as you pulled back from the hug.

"Been doing great! Glad to be back in Michigan though," He smiled. You and Trevor had been friends for years. Playing golf together being one of your favorite past times.

Jack soon ran over pulling you into a hug greeting you. You greeted the rest of the boys, your eyes landing on one you hadn't met before.

"Hey, I'm y/n it's nice to meet you!" You greeted, as you pulled your clubs out of your car.

"I- uhm hey, It's nice to meet you!" The boy spoke as he cheeks flushed a pale shade of pink.

You smiled, "Your name?"

"Oh right, Luke," He spoke smiling back at you his cheeks continuing to blush.

You shook your head, heading over to Trevor and Jack.

"Seems, like my little brother has a crush on you," Jack laughed as you sat beside Trevor on the Cart.

"He's cute," You shrugged.

"Please dear god play with the little shits head," Trevor spoke laughing," We haven't beat him in weeks."

"Oh, game on, but I'll be winning," You smiled over at the boy.

-

As you drove up to the final hole, Luke was beating you only by 1. You decided now was you chance to win.

As he stood set preparing to send the ball off.

"You gonna hit the ball pretty boy?" You smirked as you leaned agains the golf cart.

You could see Lukes face flush, his eyes going wide, his cheeks now red.

He hit shook it away lining his shot, missing by a landslide.

Jack walked up to his brother asa you set up your shot.

"Look's like you have a little crushy crush," Jack teased his younger brother.

"I do not," He defended.

-

As you all made your way back to the cars, Jack invited you to come to the Lake house for a boat ride, dinner, and bonfire. You agreed.

Trevor and Jack were giggling as they walked over to the back of the truck.

"Lukey, you don't mind driving with y/n do you? The cars a little cramped," Jack said patting his brother on the back.

"I- uhm," He attempted but couldn't so he just nodded.

You smiled at the conversation closing the trunk as you walked over to the drivers side.

Luke got into the passenger side.

"I'm stopping at my apartment first," You informed, " loosen up Luke, I don't bite, unless you ask me too," You smirked looking over at the boy.

His cheeks flashing shades of pink for the third time today.

"Your cute when your flustered," You smiled over at him as you pulled into your parking spot.

"You wanna come in?" You asked to which he nodded following you up to your apartment.

You entered your room as Luke waited in the living area. You quickly changed into some more comfortable clothes before grabbing your back packing some extra clothes. You had your bikini on underneath your outfit.

You exited your room, "You okay?"

"Yeah, you're just really pretty," He smiled over at you.

"thank you, Luke," You smiled back.

"Can I take you out to dinner? before I head back to New Jersey?"

"I think that would be really nice," You smiled.

[jo-harrington]

On-the-Job Training (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve has a crush on the Dippin' Dots cashier.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Late Summer of 1985, Steve and Robin work at Scoops, Reader works at Dippin' Dots, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Enemies to Lovers(sort of?), Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: Ok what started off as a silly little conversation about what flavor chapstick each ST character would use turned into this and I typically don't write Steve...but I had to give him some love.

Tagging my loves who were integral to that convo to thank them for inspiration especially Drac who started it all. This is for you bb. @dr-aculaaa @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @somnambulic-thing @fracturedarkness @br0ck-eddie

Technically slightly anachronistic because Dippin' Dots didn't open until 1988 but I'm a stickler for accuracy in the regular series. This is just a fun little do-dad.

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Largely unedited; I didn't even re-read it. It's might suck. Enjoy!

---

"Ahoy! One U.S.S. Butterscotch!"

Steve never thought that this would be his future after graduation.

This summer he should have been living it up before he went away to college and made something of himself. Lifeguarding at the pool, going to all the parties, hanging out with his friends.

Instead, his life went to shit, Nancy Wheeler had broken up with him, he had gotten rejection letter after rejection letter from the schools he had applied to...and instead of working at the pool like he had every summer since he turned 16, he had a crappy job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy of all places at the new StarCourt Mall.

"Thanks so much," the sweet lady who had placed the order smiled at him and handed the sundae to her son. "Look at that Frankie, your favorite." The little boy shot Steve a grin complete with his two front teeth missing and Steve melted a little bit.

Alright, it wasn't so bad. He got to make people smile, he got some spending money--which was nice since his dad had pretty much cut him off, although his mom was sneaking him some cash on the side.

"Look alive dingus," Robin called from the window separating the front of the ice cream parlor from the backroom. "Your schmoopsie poo is here."

"Shut up Rob!" Steve groaned through gritted teeth.

One of the perks of working at the mall was that he got to interact with people of all shapes and sizes and yeah...Steve had tried to use it as a means to get over Nancy. He'd had little hours-long crushes on fellow mall employees, customers, Robin--although working with her made that difficult--hell there was even a manager that had caught his eye towards the beginning of summer except he'd seen Eddie "The Freak" Munson of all people hanging around her.

Although after a few months of seeing Eddie around StarCourt not being a wastoid menace, Steve had to admit...well he wasn't that bad either.

The one who'd caught his eye the most though was you, and yeah...he'd developed an actual big little long-lasting crush.

You, who came around for a root-beer float most afternoons.

You, whose smile made his heart skip a little.

You in your pink polo, teal apron, and white visor with the words Dippin' Dots emblazoned on the front.

The enemy.

And you never let him forget it either.

Steve had been heart eyes over you the first time you had entered into Scoops territory to order your float. Undercover in casual summer clothes a week after the mall had opened. There was just something about you, your smile, your laugh.

Robin teased that he said that about everyone; Steve ignored her.

Then you opened your mouth and said the float was good but the service could have been better. That Steve should stop by Dippin' Dots sometime and see how it was really done.

Shots fired.

It really hurt at first. This was his first real job outside of the community pool, one he had been excited to get. He was really nice, tried his best; why didn't you think so?

"It's called flirting," Robin insisted. "God, you really suck, you know that? How can you ask people out willy nilly and then miss someone flirting with you right in front of your face? Flirt back next time."

So he did.

Every so often he'd mosey across the mall to your kiosk, order a small vanilla cup, and throw a little insult of his own your way. Usually something about how tiny balls of ice cream could never beat an actual scoop. Or about how you didn't count his change the right way, or that your visor was on crooked.

You wouldn't hesitate to get your own comment in. Especially about his choice in flavor.

"You work at an ice cream parlor and you order vanilla?" you questioned. "A hundred flavors to choose from at scoops; do you only get vanilla there too? Vanilla...is good but when you have variety? Order something exciting one day, and then we can talk business, Stevie."

Oof, it steamed him.

But not enough to stop playing the game.

And it left you both grinning so who was he to end the fun.

So when you showed up at Scoops today after not being around for a few days and your smile didn't reach your eyes like it usually did...Steve was suddenly overcome with...well he didn't really know.

"Ahoy, uh, sailor," he greeted and tried to put on his biggest award-winning, tip-earning smile.

"Ahoy," you replied weakly.

"Root beer float?" he asked, already heading over to the case to start scooping ice cream into a cup.

"Uh," you hesitated. "No, just...just a small vanilla cup today."

Steve froze and looked at you. Your shoulders were slumped, you had your visor in your hand, and you were pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

What was...what was wrong with you?

Where was your fight? Where was your fire? Why, all of a sudden, was your game over?

"Hey, uhm," he coughed awkwardly. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, Steve," you nodded absently.

"You always get root beer."

"I just want vanilla today."

"The special is salted caramel? I can give you a sample if you're--"

"No, I just want vanilla," you cut him off and rolled your eyes. "You always get vanilla. Why is it a problem if I suddenly do? Vanilla is good too. Maybe vanilla is just...what we both want ok? Nothing else."

He was shocked. That wasn't playful annoyance in your voice; you were just...annoyed.

"Sure," he agreed. "Sure. One small vanilla coming right up."

He got your ice cream and rang you out, and as you were about to leave, he called after you.

"See you in a little while?" he asked.

"If you want." You waved goodbye and headed out of the ice cream parlor.

Steve turned and looked at Robin who simply rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"You're hopeless," she sighed and slammed the shutters on the window closed.

---

Steve roamed around the mall on his break.

Typically, he'd make his way to Dippin' Dots but...that just seemed like a waste of time today.

He'd fixated on your visit for the rest of his shift until his break, analyzing everything he said, everything he did. Everything that could have made you mad at him.

Once he got Robin out of her hiding spot in the back room, he monologued all of his thoughts to her.

She watched him pace back and forth, called him a dingus a few times, a loser a few other times, and then finally sent him on his break with some last words.

"I know you're hearing everything they're saying Steve," she began. "But are you really listening? You just keep...ordering vanilla."

"Uh. Yeah. That's the game."

"It's not a game you...ughhhhh! GO!" She pointed to the exit. "Before I throttle you."

Why couldn't she just tell him? What had he done?

In his rumination, he'd been chewing at his lips. A habit he had pretty much done his entire life when he got nervous.

Shit, and he'd left his chapstick in the car; it was hot, it probably melted by now.

That was one of the little ways you made his life a little better...through your teasing. You had told him, once, that his lips looked dry.

"Maybe invest in some chapstick or something."

He'd gone to Melvald's that same night that you told him and got a 3-pack of strawberry chapstick. All the while wondering if it meant you had been looking at his lips for a while or...

But it was...just another little jab right? Another little flirt? Another part of your game?

Still, he never knew when you might show up so the chapstick became a constant--something that soothed him even, gave him courage--and he always had a tube tucked into the pocket of his shorts, or on the register, or in the cupholder of his car. To swipe on if he knew he was about to see you...or hoped he was.

And now...he desperately needed it, needed his strawberry chapstick--needed you--and it was nowhere to be found.

Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at the stores around him.

WaldenBooks, Regis Salon, JH Camera Repair.

Claires.

Bingo.

He'd seen little kids with their play makeup and sparkly plastic jewelry post up in one of the booths at Scoops after they spent their allowance money at Claire's. He had to find strawberry chapstick there. He'd even take cherry. Something.

Anything.

Steve crossed into the pink-and-purple-and-pop-music-filled oasis to a melodic "Welcome In" from the employee helping a little girl by the ear piercing booth. And as out of place as he felt, he was immediately relieved to see a wall full of eyeshadow palettes and glitter hairspray.

He closed the distance and frantically searched the wall, but it was all novelty makeup. There was one package of Dr. Pepper lip smackers, but the package was half-ripped and the cap was missing; he was a little worried but he figured it was better than nothing.

He was about to snatch it off the hook when that voice sounded behind him.

"Did you need help finding anything?" He immediately turned on his heel to find the employee--the manager, Eddie Munson's girlfriend--standing there in a flourish of tulle and fluorescent colors. "Oh! That's a customer favorite...looks like it's damaged though, let me just..."

She reached out to take the package but Steve reacted instinctually. He quickly grabbed it and clutched it to his chest.

"I don't mind," he tried to reason. "I don't care if it's missing the cap."

"Listen, I can't sell it to you if it's damaged," the manager explained. "It's just not safe. Is there anything else I can help you find though?"

She reached for the package again but he held it back.

"I need this," Steve tried again.

"Oh...kay."

"Because I messed up and this...you know the cashier down at the Dippin' Dots kiosk? Well...I don't know...I pissed them off or something and I just need to...go down and talk to them and I can't."

"So the lip balm is a gift for them? To make amends?"

"No...it's for me because my lips are dry." Steve sighed. "I...ok I know it sounds crazy, but I swear. It's...they got me to start using chapstick because they said my lips were dry and it's this thing we do. We go back and forth and we tease each other.

"But they're mad at me now, and they didn't...I mean they ordered vanilla. They never order vanilla. They hate it when I order vanilla."

"Uh huh." The manager's eyes went a little soft. "I'm not...really following the logic...but I get it."

"You do?"

"You like each other. But you're just...going back and forth. And no one has really...admitted it," she observed. She suddenly burst into laughter and Steve cocked his head to one side in confusion. "Sorry, sorry...it's just...whatafuckincoincidence.

"So are you the one who's afraid of being rejected? Or...are they...or..."

Cue the record scratch in Steve's head.

Rejection.

All summer...all year actually...Steve had been faced with one rejection after another. First Nancy, then all of the college applications, his dad and now...all of the little fleeting mall crushes that he'd asked out that had said no.

Robin had even made a scoreboard that sat in the back whenever someone turned him down.

He thought all this time...he'd become immune to it. But with you...it was easier to think it was just a game than to possibly face the reality that if he asked you out...you'd say no and then the little game would be ruined. And his hopes would be dashed.

He didn't realize that all of his waffling could potentially be hurting you too.

"Why don't you," the manager continued when Steve hesitated to answer, "go down there and talk to them? Even if they're mad at you. Communication is very important. I'm sure if you explain everything, or even...just show that you're willing to bridge the gap, they'd be willing to listen. The worst they could say is no, but if they're already mad, you have nothing to lose. See if they'll give you a chance."

"So I...shouldn't order vanilla this time?" He looked up at her and asked, recalling your words.

Order something exciting, and then we can talk business.

The door had been open for him to ask you out this whole time.

And that's why you ordered vanilla earlier. Because Vanilla meant...meant that this...flirtation...this game...wasn't going anywhere. He hadn't made a move, so you didn't want to wait anymore.

God, he was so stupid.

"Uh, no...don't do that," the manager smiled kindly. She reached out for the broken lip balm and took it from him. "I'll just...damage this out."

"Wait...but my lips are still dry," Steve floundered. "I still need chapstick."

"Do you think there's gonna be some kissing happening?" the manager's eyes narrowed. "I said talk to them, not...plant one on them."

"I just need...something," he begged. "Strawberry...if you have it."

"I think we have strawberry flavored lip gloss by the register."

"I'll take it."

---

So there Steve was, in the concourse by JCPenney, patiently waiting in the line for Dippin' Dots with sticky, strawberry-flavored lips tinted a very nice shade of pink.

As soon as he had swiped the gloss on...as silly as he had felt...he had been reminded of you.

"Next!" your voice sounded every so often and the line got shorter and shorter, and Steve's courage got weaker and weaker. The Claire's manager had been right though...communication...the worst you could tell Steve was "no."

"Next!" You'd be just another tally on Robin's scoreboard. And she could call him a dingus again. She really enjoyed doing that. So some good would at least come from his failure.

"Next!" He'd also get...a cup of Dippin' Dots which...if he had to admit, he kinda enjoyed. He got all the Scoops ice cream he wanted for free but this was different. Ice Cream of the Future and all that. He sort of expected Henderson to come up with something like this, the little nerd; well, if he could never show his face here again, he'd ask the kids if they could figure out how to make some kind of futuristic ice cream for him.

"Ne--oh!" Steve finally got to the front of the line and saw your shocked face. He smiled and waved as he approached the register.

"Hey," he greeted. "I told you I'd see you around."

"You did," you said flatly and scrunched your nose. "So...the usual? Small vanilla cup?"

"Uh no..." Steve said hesitantly. You raised an eyebrow in question. "I uh...can I get a large..."

"Large vanilla?" You sniffed.

"Large Rainbow Ice," he recited after squinting at the menu board. "It's time for something new."

You stared at him silently and Steve couldn't help but doubt himself.

What if Rainbow Ice was the wrong answer? Should he have gone with Banana Split? Shit he should have just stuck with Strawberry. It was his favorite. Strawberry chapstick, strawberry gloss, strawberry ice cream. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Yeah," you finally answered with a beaming smile and Steve's heart soared. "Yeah it is time for something new, isn't it?"

Next Part: Incremental Planning

[animestsstuff2]

Twitterpated

Part 2

Masterlist here!

Your villain alias is Angel! Sometimes referred to by Dabi as Dove due to your wings but for anonymity purposes you (the reader) will be referred to as Angel for the majority of this fic🤍

Content warning: this is set after season 4/5 and will have spoilers up until season 7 mainly in later chapters tho! Hawks flirting cuz hes lowkey smooth with da ladys

Night two, 2:00am.

Hawks was jittery, was it from the third can of coffee? Or from his jumbled thoughts? He called the doctor after his shift yesterday and didn’t get a helpful solution. He shifted from his standing position on the top of his agency, crouching low as his eyes scanned the streets below not really focused as his mind drifted to the phone call.

“Sounds like your primal needs are poking through hawks” Hawks sighed as he lay on his bed, fingers carding through damp hair.

“Primal needs? What’dya mean?” He asked uselessly, he knew exactly what the doctor meant.

“Your quirk. You didn’t just get the mutation of wings Hawks like most mutation quirks other qualities are mixed. An example would be a cat-like quirk they, not all the time now, can be prone to getting a heat. Thats dependent though on how cat-like they are, its differen-“ Hawks zoned out, his face pink as the doctor continued on about heats and mating seasons. His body warm as his mind filled with thoughts.

He knows everything about his quirk, knows the weight of each feather, the way his wings have to be folded, the way they stretch. Its like breathing, so..why didn’t he know this? If animals mate every year why didn’t the spring months bother him until now, what has changed.

“Anyways! I digress. I speculate the reasoning for your sudden awaken in your more primal instincts is due to meeting someone of interest” Hawks attention was back on the phone pressed to his ear as he sat up. A sudden thought pushing to the forefront of his mind.

“Uh, yeah thanks. Gotta go” click, the phone was tossed aside as he got up, naked as the day he was born and began pacing his bedroom.

Was this your doing? Maybe this was your quirk. You had pressed something into his back last night and he forgot to figure out what. A groan fell from his lips as he sat back on his bed, hands cupping his face. No, this wasn’t some stupid quirk other than his in play. He wasn’t one for relationships, no time for them. He never reacted this way before towards his few flings. It had to be related to you, to your quirk. If only you weren’t a villain, maybe a mutual agreement could have be-

Beep!

Hawks blinked as his visor displayed a sudden report of criminal activity. A break in at a lab thirty minutes away. Hawks was gone from the rooftop. It would only take him ten to reach the crime. His heart beat hard against his chest as he thought of you being there, was this you? Would he see you again. This intrusive thoughts filled the blondes mind, one after the other. It was like someone else was in his brain, they didn’t feel like they were coming from him

Hawks eyes scanned the lab, seeing the sirens blare and lights illuminate the surrounding area. His wings flapping and keeping him up high as he saw two other pros join the scene below. Hawks eyes narrowed watching as they entered through the main door but just as they did a flash of white flew through the window to the left. He didn’t miss a beat as he soared after you. His heart beating faster now, easily catching up with you as he stayed above seeing you with a handful of supplies. He pulled a long feather from his back but his hand faltered. You flipped over now, slowing your pace as your eyes met his. Your gloved hand trailing up to trace the edge of the fluffy feather. Hawks heart skipped at the touch, it felt too sensitive, too raw even with gloves.

“C’mon Hero, it’s for the league. You’re not gonna stop me are you?” Your voice was low and teasing as you slowed even further. Your white wings outstretched as you circled one another high in the sky, going up and away from view.

It looked almost like a dance as Hawks felt his words get caught in his throat, only able to focus on the eyes that gleamed above the mask. You had a new one, no long a plain white cloth but rather a white mask now fit on your face. Hawks put his feather back regaining his composure as he flashed a grin, ignoring the way his wings stretched too far, tensed too much and his body ran warm. The two of you now alone, above the clouds. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the white wings behind you, smaller than his both in length and size overall but big enough to carry you.

“Stop you? I’d never lay a hand on a pretty thing like you” He wasn’t intending to say that but the words slipped out before he could think of another response. Your cheeks flushed and the reaction egged him on, something pulling in his chest.

Didn’t know you liked it rough Angel. I promise i’ll not hurt you too bad” the implication behind his words made your wings falter slightly and you almost fell. Your face definitely red as you thought of a response. Your eyes breaking contact with the avians yellow ones as you felt your stomach twist. Your emotions had been wired since meeting him yesterday, unable to play it cool anymore.

“Um, right. Well..Do I have to make it look like we fought? So people don’t ask questions?” You mumbled, thankful for the night sky and your mask for hiding the pink on your cheeks. Hawks brow raised at your reply and he chuckled. You really must be new to the league. Why were you even part of it? You didn’t seem crazy like the rest of those nut-jobs, especially that blood freak. Hawks wings bristled as he recalled the time he first met her. He focused back on you. The grin never leaving his face.

Thats not what I meant! I-I have to go!” Hawks grin feel as your wings flapped and spun you round. His hand moved quicker as he grabbed your forearm and your body tensed as the feeling went straight to the tension in your stomach

. “W-Wait. I was just messing with ya Angel” He didn’t know what else to say to make you stay. He didn’t know why he was even bothering, no rational thought could make sense of why the feeling in his chest wanted you to stay near him so badly.

“Whatever. I have to go. It’s already quarter to three if i’m not back before then boss will kill me” you mumbled, turning your head over your shoulder to glance at him. Your hair moving in the slight wind which picked up had strands falling over your face. Hawks all but blinked dumbly as his grip on you faltered and you pulled away.

You were quick immediately taking off as your white wings became nothing but a blur. His own puffed out and twitching, not even realising how fast they were flapping. His mind finally zoning back in as he let himself drop, coming down from the sky just a ways away from the hospital and going over seeing police already at the scene.

“Hawks! Did ya see anything?” His eyes moved over to a police man waving his hand. He headed over shaking his head and plastering a familiar grin on his face.

“Nah. I got sight of somethin’ but they disappeared through a portal before I could get close” he lied, it was for the league, not you. Hawks left before he could be questioned further remembering Kurogiri was in police custody, not a great lie.

His wings bringing him to a large building just a bit away from the lab. He felt it again. His body warm and skin sweaty. His wings spanned out from his back as he removed his gloves and wiped his clammy hands onto his bottoms. His throat feeling dry all of a sudden as he tried to ignore the tension in his stomach. His fingers carding through his hair as he let out a sigh.

Did you feel this?…

You did in-fact feel it. Your wings bristled as the wind caught under them, stretched out. You swooped through the air as you grew closer to the ground. Your arms wrapped around the supplies you’d been asked to gather. Your cheeks warm and hands clammy. You landed softly on the rooftop your wings staying stretched out slightly behind you as you made your way over to the fire exit door.

It swung open as you stepped inside the dingy stairwell. It was lit by a single bulb with no shade. The door swung shut behind you as you made your way down and into the sort of communal area below. The warehouse served as a secondary base of operations before the planned move to Deika city to uncover some ‘present’ One For All left behind for Shigaraki.

You entered the communal area seeing Toga and Twice sat on the dusty sofa toying with some board-game the most likely stole. You spotted Spinner hunched over the stove by the Kitchenette as he fumbled with a knife.

“Where’s Shigaraki?” You asked all of them.

“Tomura? Hes out right now! - no hes in his room! Twice gave a typical double response and your eyes moved to Toga.

“He’s in the workspace with Dabi!” She giggled and you nodded. She creeped you out the most to be honest. Her insistent begging to have some of your blood so she could fly bothered you.

You headed down the hallway to the ‘office’ it was really just Shigaraki’s room that he liked to call his office. You knocked once and heard the raspy voice beckon from inside as you stepped in and placed the supply boxes on his desk. His hands folding the papers in front of him and moving them away. Dabi who was previously leaning over the table straightened himself as he looked you over.

“How’d it go? Any run ins Dove?” The tall man asked as a smirk stretched across his marred skin. Your eyes averted from his as some feathers fluffed up recalling your encounter with the blonde haired hero.

“N-, No it went fine” you mumbled out. Your skin growing warm as your cheeks flushed. A single finger curled around your mask and pulling it down as it fell under your chin.

“No? Why ya all red for then? You run into our little bird?” His voice teased you as Shigaraki straightened up. This information new to his ears.

“Whats this? What little bird Dabi?” His fingers already scratching at his forearms skin.

“Ya know, our little birdy Hawks. Angel here has some feelings for him I reckon” Dabi chuckled as your skin prickled with bumps. The villain costume you had made thankfully hiding the goosebumps which prickled your arm.

“Hmm, that’s not good..no, not good at all Angel” Shigaraki stated as his nails curled against his skin further.

“No! It’s not true. I did run into him but he let me go. My face is just warm from flying so fast to get away” You quickly shot out and Shigaraki’s eyes gave you a once over before shrugging his shoulders and waving a hand.

“Whatever, just don’t let it become bothersome. You can leave the supplies here. Dabi you can go too” He mumbled and you nodded turning as Dabi followed close behind you now both exiting the room.

“You sure nothin’ happened Angel?” Dabi’s voice from behind made you jump as fingers trailed up the spine of your wing. His slender fingers pinching a feather..pluck! You flinched and spun round on reflex seeing Dabi with a sly grin on his face.

“You know. I don’t care much for the league or everyone else’s agenda except my own. The care I have for them is solely to fuel my own agenda and consequently it’s in my benefit to ensure everyone stays in their place” You swallowed thickly as the hallway became hot. Dabi’s hooded eyes staring at yours as your feather lay flat in his palm.

“See, i don’t bother going out of my way to learn about mutation quirks, the ins and outs. But I understand some people come together due to them, ya know, hook up or breed even” he laughed at his snide comment. You felt yourself grow warmer, cheeks flushing and heart rate increasing.

“And i just wanted to make sure our little Dove isn’t all twitterpated over our little Birdy, Hawks. Cause’ ya know, that wouldn’t benefit me at all” He stated and your eyes honed in on the blue flame that swallowed your feather. All that remained was ash and your right wing twitched feeling a slight twinge of pain.

“You understand, don’t ya Dove?” His grin only grew, stables stretching as they held the charred skin together.

You just nodded unable to form any words to reply but it was enough for Dabi and he turned without another word. You watched him retreat down the hall and through the door to the communal area and only then when the door shut did your rigid muscles relax and your breath finally become short as you clutched a hand over your chest.

“Fuck” you mumbled as you forced your feet to take you to your room. Your hand gripping the handle too tightly as you shut it behind yourself and rested your forehead against the wood. Your mind buzzing with thoughts as you concluded the only thing you should do and that was to ignore Hawks, which couldn’t be that hard.

Right?..

I also don’t know whether to make the character (you) a real villain with a vendetta against hero society or make her a unfortunate but good person who has caught herself intwined and/or in debt to the L.O.V

[suna1suna1]

The Open Backpack | MD Oneshot

Mild finale spoilers!

640 words

N/Uzi (Established)

N/Uzi/V (Kinda, not quite established yet lol)

Putting this here bc it's silly and I'm playing with turning it into a comic at some point but I don't want to make a whole new thing for it on ao3 so hi!

Uzi kept a lot of things in her backpack. Many of these things would have had V teasing her in a heartbeat if she were ever to find out, and N just wouldn't get it unless she showed them to him. Which she was not doing. Nope, not even a little. 

But most of all, she couldn't let them know she was into magical girl anime. If anyone found out about it, her reputation as the emo girl would be ruined, she was sure of it. 

Though in hindsight, maybe she shouldn't have left the bag open in the middle of class. 

Lizzy found it first, reaching over to the open backpack and pulling out a very battered--very pink--volume of Mariner Satellite. "What's this?" she asked, her voice thick with disgust. 

"Mine!" Uzi screeched as she snatched it from Lizzy's hands. "Stay out of my frickin' stuff!" 

The teacher cleared his throat, leveling both of them with a very tired, very I'm so done look. Uzi shoved the manga back in her bag and huffed as she looked pointedly away from Lizzy, pulling her bag under her desk.  

Someone tapped her shoulder, and Uzi's heart skipped a beat when she saw N looking at her curiously from where he sat behind her. "What's that?" he asked quietly. 

A warning popped up on Uzi's interface that she was blushing, and she looked away quickly. "Nothing. Just a super cool ninja manga! Yeah!" 

"Ooh, neat!" N replied, and Uzi's stomach dropped as she realized her mistake. "Could you show me after class?" 

Uzi panicked and nodded. 

Uh oh... 

Maybe he'll forget about it, Uzi told herself as the clock ticked closer and closer to the end of class. Or I can escape before he realizes I'm gone! 

But he didn't, and she couldn't. There was a bottleneck as the last class of the day ended and all the other students clamored to leave. N was next to her immediately, ready to take her hand (gross, PDA...) and leave the room with her. "So what's that manga? Ninjas sound cool!" 

Uzi laughed nervously. "Uh... Yeah! They are!" 

"It's not about ninjas," said Lizzy with a smirk. "It's all about the sparkle." 

"Ooh!" N exclaimed. "Like the stuff V's been drawing?" 

Uzi gave him a bewildered look. "Drawing?" she asked. 

"Yeah! We've been using that manga drawing book. V's getting really good! She likes the magical girls and stuff, especially if they look like spies." 

"Huh... I never took V for a magical girl fan." 

"Uh huh, because you're oblivious." 

V stood in the doorway, an eyebrow arched at Uzi. "I don't talk about Mariner Satellite with you around because I know you'll be weird about it, but I know you've snuck into my locker." 

Uzi blushed guiltily. "I wasn't looking at the posters. I just wanted one of the arms you keep in there." 

N narrowed his eyes at V. "V, I thought we agreed no more killing--"

"I'm not, dummy," V interrupted. "I broke into Doll's stash. She had a crap-ton of drones stockpiled." 

"Oh! Right." 

"Anyway," Uzi said. "...I guess if V's already into it... You guys... maybe wanna watch the anime with me...? Sometime...?" 

N grinned. "Anime date!" 

"It's not a date!" Uzi and V looked at each other, startled that they'd both said it in sync. Uzi didn't miss the blush lines on V's visor before she turned away. "Whatever," V continued. "Remake or original?" 

"Original," Uzi replied. "The remake follows the manga better, but the vibes just aren't the same." 

V shrugged and walked back out through the door, looking over her shoulder. "Are you guys coming or what?" 

N grabbed Uzi's hand in his, offering her a smile while she tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies in her stomach as she left the classroom with him. 

[pedropascallme]

In Dreams

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: “You heard yourself begging but had no idea if he could hear you, if he could recognize the tenacity in your voice.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI). The moment you’ve all been waiting for. (Kinda.) P in v sex, oral (f receiving). If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Part six of Stupid For You!!

Soundtrack: In Dreams by Sierra Ferrell

Staggering into your cot was easy. Your only difficulty now was convincing your mind to catch up with your body, to rest your head and fall asleep the way your limbs begged you to. 

All you could think about was Din. Din drinking with you. Din’s hand wrapped around your thigh. Din’s body pressed against yours. Din and how he’d put effort into breaking down barriers with you in such a short span of time—that more than anything made your head spin. And if you had been any more sober, maybe your hand would be able to manage finding the waistband of your trousers; maybe you’d have the energy to put his actions to good use. Any drunker, and you would’ve stayed up in the cockpit with him hoping for much of the same. Instead, you pushed your face against the flat, cold pillow of your cot and forced yourself to sleep. 

In life, Din was cold; physically, obviously, due to the heavy armor he walked around with that seemed to never retain any heat from the interior of the ship, and emotionally. Maybe lately it was different; it was. It was different, but it wasn’t enough. Not for you, not for someone who felt as though she was being laid bare while he was still keeping in step for the most part. Din was hidden and mysterious, and while that was one of the things that first drew you in, now all you wanted was more. More contact, more conversation, more of him all to yourself. 

In dreams, you were able to experience everything you wanted and more. When you succumbed to your inebriation and the exhaustion your body was screaming from, you found yourself with a world of possibility. 

Din’s gloveless hands trailed over your naked body, dipping and tracing over the curves of your waist and hips before moving back up to cup your breasts and squeeze lightly. He picked you up, placing you on a bed far more ornate than the one you regularly slept on, combing his fingers through your hair before tucking stray strands behind your ear. He stood, towering before you as he stripped down and out of his armor. The silence was loud. It was so loud. And every time he dropped a piece of the beskar to the floor it became louder. Now bare and warm and welcoming, he draped himself over you where you were spread out on the plush sheets.

“Take it off.” His voice was needy, even through his helmet; not begging, but not demanding you to act.

“I’m not wearing anything…” Your own voice wavered, echoing around the room inside your mind.

“No,” he pushed himself up slightly, reaching for your hands and placing them on either side of his helmet, “Take it off.” Now he was begging.

You felt torn between the options you had: on one hand he was asking, pleading you to remove it from him, remove it for him; on the other, you couldn’t deny the impact of what you could be doing, how this could ruin everything that had happened thus far, make him resent you for allowing him to break the Creed. Maybe it was a test. You kept your hands cemented in place, your palms growing clammy against the metal. He placed his hands over yours and stared at you through the visor.

“I’m telling you, it’s ok.” He moved your hands up with his, slowly removing the helmet, centimeter by centimeter. “It’s ok.”

You saw Din’s chin first, followed by the plush pink of his lips. He had a smattering of stubble, and you watched his tongue poke out between his lips in concentration as he continued to pull your hands along with his. He had a mustache, and while it wasn’t well kept to the fullest extent, it made sense on him—it was cowboyish and rogue. Next to be revealed was his nose, and it was as he had described it: big and curved. It framed his face, made him look sculpted, and you had to stop yourself from wriggling your hands out from under his to trace it with your fingers. You looked up and found his eyes staring back at you. Big and brown, and, most strikingly, innocent. His demeanor was fierce and earnest, but his eyes looked almost like they belonged to somebody else entirely; they were a deep chocolate color and filled with worry, his eyebrows falling over them in a manner that made him look deeply concerned. 

Maybe he was.

All you could do was look. It was enough to know that Din was looking back at you, no helmet between your gaze. His fingers brushed your cheek before he had his hand over the back of your head, maintaining eye contact as he spread his fingers over your scalp. He didn’t have to ask for what he wanted, you knew, leaning forward as if by habit to lock lips with him. He pulled you flush against him, and you felt all of him as his lips met yours. You had no control over the situation, and your body acted accordingly, falling limp for him and him alone. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, and you felt yourself open up for him, letting him taste you in full. He removed himself from you, moving down your body and tracing small kisses over you as he went. 

You heard yourself begging but had no idea if he could hear you, if he could recognize the tenacity in your voice. Like clockwork, he had his mouth on your core, gently kissing at your clit, and you felt paralyzed in pleasure. Unmoving, you continued to beg, to have him give you more, give you anything. As if you had willed it, he licked into you, mouth open against your hole, tongue fucking into you eagerly. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you open for easy access as he drew circles over your clit with his tongue before delving back into you. You looked up as best you could, met with the image of Din’s lips covered in your wet. Your head fell back against the pillow you were lounging on and you felt something thick and hard enter you. As he curled and twisted inside of you, you realized Din had placed one finger into your aching, dripping cunt, further tormenting you with his movements. You tried to make a noise, but it got stuck in your throat as he continued to lick at your clit while he pumped his finger in and out rhythmically.

“More?” His voice sounded tinny, as if it were still going through the modulator, but hearing what he said was all that mattered to you. You nodded frantically, and he slipped another finger into your heat. You moaned and he smiled at you from his position over your bottom half. You tried reaching out to him, but your limbs were so heavy and all you could do was lie back and enjoy his ministrations. You felt your stomach tighten and the muscles in your legs contract, and as you felt Din brush against the spongey spot inside you, a bright light of calm fell over you. 

What happened next, you have no idea, but you were in a new position than you had been; your face was buried into the sheets while you rested on all fours, and rough hands were guiding your ass up higher than the rest of your body. You felt something rub against your pussy, smearing your juices across your lips and clit, and you looked behind you as best you could.

“Ok?” Din was looking back at you, fist wrapped around his cock as he brushed it against you.

“Yeah,” you faced forward once again, “please.” You hoped he could hear you as you planted your face against the mattress. You felt him slide into you completely, with no time to adjust, and as he bottomed out you reached a hand behind you in search of him. He took it in his own, a sign of trust and reassurance that doubled as a leverage for him to ram in and out of you with ease. You heard him moan in unison with you, filthy noises surrounding the silence that had once clouded everything around you, and you relaxed into the way he rocked his hips. 

He reached around you with the hand that wasn’t holding yours and attached his fingers to your clit, groaning at the noises you made for him. You clenched around his cock, squeezing his hand in an effort to communicate your satisfaction in his movements and his handling of your body. 

“Mesh’la,” he pushed himself into you repeatedly, trying to find the spot that would make you melt for him, “one more time.” There it was.

The light engulfed you again, but any noise you made was again caught in your throat. You tried to move and suddenly you broke through the pleasure and found yourself flailing against your small mattress. Blinking, you reacquainted yourself with your surroundings and kicked at the sheets you had rearranged during your unconscious tryst. 

You stared at the wall, sweaty and aching, rationalizing what you had just imagined in such vivid detail. You willed yourself to forget the face Din had shown you, feeling as though it was a betrayal to see him even if it was a face your psyche had made up as a placeholder for his visage. You kicked at the sheet again as you came to terms with the fact that it was becoming much more of a struggle to preserve any shred of professionalism you had left around Din, and you’d either have to find a way to have him acknowledge the swift change of pace in your relationship—whatever it was—or restrain any further amplifications of it. Either option made you feel helpless; all you had wanted was a job, and now you were experiencing the most extreme type of professional strife you could’ve imagined. It isn’t that you were incapable of taking it slow, rather it was the fact that you physically couldn’t allow any distance from him; not only was your entire job centered around caring for the Crest and for the kid, but the only time you had away from Din was when he was out looking for someone—and you always felt somewhat incomplete without him. 

You mulled over everything, excusing your sudden intense feelings toward the situation as hungover anxiety that would be gone within 24 hours or less. 

A distressed whine caught your attention and pulled you out of bed.

I hope I'm in your dreams The way you are in all of my mine You've got a love so fine I wish that I could make you mine

Tag list <3

@queerponcho @abbygraceasd @sanscas @amberpanda99 @djarins-cyare @krissy-fallen @onlybassoon01 @leithatnight​

If you would like to be part of the taglist for this series, let me know!!

[sukunasxsub]

Part ii

Biker!Sukuna X Reader

Here is this version right now for all you ladies who enjoy clubbing

Part 1 above

MDI adult content18+

The club vibing with pop cultured music, the walls vibrating from the bass hitting hard against the floor. Bodies and asses grinding against one another, groping touches by everyone only things in the bedroom would be appropriate for.

Laughing and screaming by a group of girls echoes through the club’s dance floor. Your group of girls vibing and having a time of your lives for your birthday. Though this wasn’t what you wanted to do until a few drinks had hit you and you finally said ‘why the fuck not?’. Eighty percent of the men in the club wanted to get at you or one of you six girls. All eyes on the six of you for being the loudest and hottest women out in this club. Let’s just say your foreigners to this area. Eyes of jealous women and lust from the men bounced back as you girls were here for a god time not a care in the world.

That was until men started getting zero respect for you ladies, especially you, birthday girl. Three of your girls went to the bathroom, and two girls went to get more drinks for the group, leaving you on the dance floor by yourself, but you are just vibing the feel of the music and yourself. Touching on yourself was almost like a sin. You have so many men’s eyes on you, but one set of eyes will be so unknown to you all night.

A hand is suddenly roaming across your body and your tits are being grabbed from behind and another hand going under your shirt to the waist line of your pants. It feels good until you remember your girls are not here with you right now and this is a men’s club. You shove hands off you, screaming to get off you. It’s no use though, the man behind you doesnt care and thinks no one is paying attention and continues to force his way to touch you.

Your screams were relentless and still couldn’t be heard by others or they just thought you were having a good time.

You were suddenly ripped away from being touched so aggressively, into another pair of warm arms, though this time it felt like a safe warm feeling. The guy that had been touching you was suddenly on the ground groaning in pain, holding his cheek. The male who saved you, knelt down and whispered something to the guy and the guy got up and ran out the door. Before the man stood up, your girls came back.

“Oh my god! Y/n are you okay? What happened?” One said and the other late arrival stated “what? What i miss?”

“Did y/n meet a hottie?” One asked. You went to turn your attention back on the man and found him gone.

“EH!!! Where the hell did he go?” You asked and drunk you looked around for a specific guy. A shimmer of a grey coat walked out of the club. You pushed your way through the sea of people and ran out the door too.

“Y/n!!!! Wait!!!” Your friends called out to you but you were already out the door.

Yelling and pleading could be heard around the corner and you stumbled around. You went to make that turn around the corner to the ally but a sports bike came flying out of the alleyway. Shrieks of the tires and brakes echoed through the night as it came to a halting stop. Causing you to stumble and fall on your ass in your heels and short dress, revealing your light colored pink and red rose panties. Curses escaped your lips as you looked up at the guy in a grey sweatshirt hoodie. His black and red lining racing-biker helmet reflecting yourself against his visor. Your legs spread open, you’re too drunk to care or notice, all you care about is getting off the ground and find the guy who helped you, so you can thank him.

The biker revs his throttle three times at you to get your attention and tilts his head to towards the back seat of the bike indicating you to get on. You felt ushered and a need to go with him. He held his outreached hand toward you to take to help you on his bike and you took it and he pulled you up from the ground. As if you weighed nothing, you were cut off guard and flew into his arm and chest,while he stabilized the bike to keep from tipping over. “Woah there cutie” his voice muffled and you couldn’t really hear him. You heard shouting and and foot steps running your way. He didnt have time to wait for you, he took his helmet off and shoved it onto your head and then He grabbed you by the waist and flung your body on the back of the bike and the pegs down and you wrapped your arms around his lower waist tightly and your chest pressed against his back. He shifted the bike into first gear and fast into second gear and left the club.

For a while you enjoyed the ride as you felt the wind slap across your skin and around your body. The man controlling the bike was taking inconsideration of you on the back. 20 minutes later he parked at an apartment complex and got off the bike first. You didn’t have time to see his face when he threw you on the bike. Now his face in the dim moonlight lighting you got a good look at his jaw line and facial tattoos. You gasped. Is this the same man from the park two weeks ago?

You stared at him as he shut his bike off. He reached out to you and he was hesitant and didnt want to make you feel uncomfortable but you made no effort to take the helmet off and made no effort to stop him either. He touched the helmet and slowly slid it over your head and face. Revealing your soft plump cheeks and red nose and really red drunken lips.

“I brought you to my home, but you were in the wrong place and wrong time and I could not afford for someone like you to show up dead at my club. So I’ll take you home tomorrow, but for now welcome.” He states as he eyes you. You blink at him in admiration and innocent doe eyes. Your eyes are like a wonder of curiosity as you look at him with a small pout.

That intense stare softens and his eyebrows rose in shock or concern. Dumbfounded by your look of innocence. He is wondering are you always like this or just to drunk to care about your where about?

“Alrighty, up you go, let’s headed inside so a pretty girl like you doesnt catch a cold.” He grabs your waist and lifts you off the bike with one arm as the other carries your purse and his helmet. He sets you on the ground and for some reason afraid to let you go and grabs your hand. Mean while your heart is beating and you being a hopeless romantic that you are running through your mind and memories of every romance adult book you have read and the scenarios of what happens next. A motorcycle guy and a drunk girl, means bad news, heated sex, heated make out session, but to him that isnt any of his intentions on a beautiful girl like you who is drunk. He literally wanted you yes, from the moment at the park. You didnt fear him, and gave him a look of certainty and acknowledgment as if he you knew him like the back of your hand.

Though when he saw you at the club with your girls he was shocked and felt suddenly possessive and needed to be your guy to keep those filthy guys who kept making turns at your group for your ladies attention. He would make it known that you were his and to leave you ladies alone, though would never tell you that. He also wanted to know who you are as a person and wanted to know what kind of girl you really were, little miss innocent wasn’t really his impression of you. You stared at him on his bike like he was the prey and you wanted a taste of the thrill of being his backpack and the thrill of what he was and maybe even who he was. A dangerous man on a dangerous bike and you wanted a taste of being the bad boys princess for the first time in your hopeless romantic life. A thrill you longed for in your boring life, where you felt the thrill in the books you read instead. He saw that in the lip bite expression you made when he revved his engine at you. He saw the light brighten in your eyes as you heard the bike growl in the exhaust. You had a thing for sports bikes. Maybe you were his kind of girl. He’s never found a women such full of excitement AND full of innocence as much as you are. He has never allowed anyone into his home, or know anything about him and here he is, allowing a girl ride on the back of his bike, and wanting to get to know you. His interest in women were very few and only enjoyed the flings for a night with a few different women. He always sent them home before he even fell asleep, so they couldn’t stay after the sex and expect him to cuddle or even consider him getting feelings for them.

When you entered his apartment, you stare back at yourself in the mirror of his bathroom, a hot mess you are. You take a wash cloth from his bathroom closet that you looked in specifically for the towel. Make up smeared across your eyes, your hair disheveled by the helmet and good time. Your dress so tight you wanted it off.

A knock came from the door, “hey, i have a pair of sweats and t shirt you are welcome to wear since you may be more comfortable.” You open the door and smile at him.

“Thank you, I hope you dont mind, I barrowed a towel from the closet and yes, please.” You say gentley taking the clothes from his hands.

“It’s not a problem. You can shower too.” His gruff voice says as he closes the door for privacy.

To

Be

Continued….

An update for part three will be up very soon most likely Tuesday or Wednesday night. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please share and like there will be more juicy parts and more biker sukuna most likely the next chapter. 

[dankmyfarrik]

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind | Chapter 8: Happy Is The Blameless

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Summary: An alternate universe where the only thing that happens differently is... well, the Emperor wins. And Luke wakes up with a mysterious scar on his temple.

Read it here:

AO3

Chapter Warnings: Surgical torture, (very brief) thoughts of past self-harm.

Welp, I finally went overboard. This chapter contains the longest spice scene I have dared to write (as of yet). Please 18+!!

Word count: ~5.5k

-----

Darkness all around empty, black soulless. Finally, his senses are returning to him. Not another misplaced dream. He looked down at his hands, no sand, only black. But then he could just about make out the shadow of his hand in the darkness. A dim light shone from off in the distance and against his will or maybe just his best judgment—he followed. The world tipped upside down. In an instant, it felt as though the blackness was chasing him.

Dragging him down. 

Pulling him under. 

Drowning. 

Fear. 

"Yes, use the fear," Father had said. "Channel your anger. Let it flow through you." But it all felt wrong now. 

It's all so terribly wrong.

"Help!"

He screamed towards the light. Voice cracking, turning into a life or death panic. "Help, help me please! Don't let me stay here!" His voice was shaking and cracking as he ran towards the light as fast as his feet would carry him. He tripped and scrambled back. Desperate. 

"Take me away from here!" 

"Luke!?" It was that woman. Leia. 

"Luke, take my hand." She was there just in front of him. Kind eyes. A face he had always known as if it were his own. He reached out, straining, but something twisted around his ankle, dragging him back. 

"Leia!" The pads of their fingers scrapped against each other but not enough to gain purchase. He was pulled further away.

"Help me! Save me! It's all wrong, don't forget me please!"

No no no. 

He jolted up, eyes bloodshot, hair stuck to sweat on his forehead, chest hammering. 

"Leia!!" He screamed into the blinding light. 

"Don't let me forget again!! Not again! Please!!"

Bright light shone directly into his eyes and behind it eclipsed a black soulless droid. A droid holding a spinning surgical blade inches from his forehead. He reached out in a panic to swat it away, but his hands were restrained. Feet restrainedaround his ankle to an operation table. Luke kicked and thrashed, hyperventilating.

"Leia! Leia! Help me!" He force-slammed the droid to bits against the wall with a buck of his head. Another entered the room, and he lifted his hand but was stopped by the restraint. Stupid move. That split-second delay was all that was needed for someone. A human. To press a mask to his face, gas flooded his nostrils and his eyes drooped before he could even resist.

It was forgotten.

Natus woke in his bed, head pounding, eyes felt like they were sunk into his skull. A smeared drop of blood on his temple. An empty space noticeable next to him on the bed. The Mandalorian won't be back with the bounty for at least another week. He felt the loneliness like a hole in his heart. Natus ran to the fresher to vomit up nothing. 

------

The Crest landed softly on a bed of wildflowers. The Naboo sunrise lightened the sky with streaks of pinks and oranges, and clouds lit from the bottom with a warm, fiery glow. The colors lightly reflected off of Din's armor, and even with the visor, he knew it was quite a vision. He missed the feeling—when the sun first kisses the skin—seeping deep into his pores. The leather strapped tight to his body was all the more suffocating. 

The fob beeped in his hand, and Din began the trek to the top of the sloped hill. The petals around him turned to open to the morning, dew catching on their leaves, popping with color with every inch the sun rose.

Despite the beautiful scene encompassing him, unease remained present within him, as he knew, or maybe it was that he didn't know what awaited him when he got to the top.

Din saw her white robes first. But it was undeniable in a moment she was indeed the woman from the broken, dusty holo.

At last.

Hope.

Like Luke, time had not been kind to her, but despite it all she stood tall, strong, courageous, wind adrift in the few strands of hair allowed to be free from her intricate braids. 

"Hunter, why do you hesitate?"

Din had vowed to not repeat the mistake he had made with Solo. But now that he finally had her, he didn't know what he could say. She filled the silence for him.

"This is where my mother grew up and fell in love. I know so little about my mother. An old friend told me to look here. I thought I should visit at least once, young love, the beginnings of a family. I can feel it. Can't you?"

He could.

"Given that my brother is the reason why you are here, this dream in the flowers didn't end so well."

Brother. 

Din jolted a pause, waiting for his thoughts to catch up to his racing blood. It made perfect sense; he could see it within them both now. They were part of each other.

She just stared intently at him. The only other person who could see straight past the visor and into his eyes. How was that even possible?

"You care about him," she whispered, the sound disappearing into the wind like a secret for them both.

Din shifted nervously, the flowers brushing against his leg. 

He decided there was no better time than now to jump off the metaphorical ledge, the one he had been inching closer and closer to, subtly with questions to Natus, but now it was time for action. He had no true loyalty to the Empire.

"Leia, I need your help."

The flowers lightly fluttered around them. The horizon was much brighter now. A warm light.

"And it seems I am in need of yours as well. What remains of my family I will fight fiercely for. Luke was the last person in the galaxy I ever thought would turn…" She bit off her words and glanced down. Silence broken only by the light breeze filled them both. When she started again, her tone changed.

"You recently captured Han Solo."

Din held his breath, this could be his only shot. They needed to trust each other, and how could she ever trust him now? He was a villain to her. 

"Is Han still alive?" But the words were not aquisitory; she was just stating a fact, that she knew. She didn't hold malice against him. Even though she should.

"I don't know," he swallowed hard, regret filling him up and flooding him, suffocating him. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded quickly, "Thank you."

"Don't—"

"No," she said, "I mean it," Leia worked to compose herself. She morphed subtly, straightening her posture, holding her head higher. 

"Now, enough chit-chat. You won't need those," she gestured to the binders dangling at his hip, "Comon', hurry up." And she strode straight past the fumbling Din to the Crest. "We have a galaxy to save."

–

Deep, somewhere in the heart of the galaxy, the Crest's ramp lowered, the ship—his home—consumed within the belly of the Descant. Two figures, instantly recognizable, stood on the other side, like demons, greeting their guests to hell. 

The first, Natus, as expected. Dressed as stiffly and blindingly white as the lights reflecting off of the troopers' armor. 

The second rivaled the vacuum of space itself. 

It took everything within Din to keep his pose, to not outwardly twitch a muscle. But Leia, in all of her courage, marched straight past him once more without a glance behind her, leading the way to whatever nightmare was before her. 

Her boots clicked against the ramp, changing in sound when she made it onto the polished, barren floor. She marched straight through the middle of Natus and the tall, evil figure next to him. 

"Out of my way," she hissed at the first imp who dared to stand in her path. The trooper before her looked as though he genuinely considered following the order of their new prisoner. 

"Not so fast, Princess." The sound, as deep as the thrumming and groaning of tectonic plates, shook the very ship in its orbit to the bottom of the universe.

"Lord Vader," she sounded exasperated, "as much as this routine, as with our conversations, amuse me, I would rather just get to the heart of the matter now. And you wouldn't risk doing that in such a public location."

"We are happy to accommodate," Vader said, tilting his visor to Natus. His sparkling golden eyes transfixed to Leia,without taking his gaze from her face, he clipped binders around her wrists. 

Din stood helplessly at the edge of the Crest's ramp, watching as the troopers parted like a sea. Leia, flanked by Natus and Vader, marched onward, her head held high with unwavering will. The three moved through the sterile, jagged halls, disappearing from sight. A bravery akin to the old heroes his mother spoke of in bedtime stories long ago. Tales that had filled his dreams with fearlessness and a call to the stars. That spirit hadn't died in her. And he wondered if it hadn't died in him either.

—

"Boys," she huffed, "don't you think this is overkill?" Leia knew they could have sent any trooper to sentence her to a cell, sure if it was just two she could have escaped, she could even handle around five before hesitating at a small battalion, but nevertheless they proved they had the resources. This special escort was more than a power play. But why?

Her last real conversation with her brother before all hell broke loose was just the two of them with bugs chirping and fireflies swirling around them on Endor, Luke told her Vader was their father.

Although a fact, it could never be true. Bail would always be her real father. But as she looked at the two robed figures, one in all black and the other white, she knew, however twisted, this special treatment whether conscious or not, was a familial one and possibly the first time they were all in the same place in this way.  

She thought back to the whispering flower field on Naboo, how could this, more machine than man—a creature next to her, be the one who fell in love with her mother all those years ago. 

But for now, she had to focus on the matter at hand. Leia eyed daggers into Vader as they stopped outside of a cell. The entry slid open to a small and simple room, just like all the others she had been temporarily held captive in over the years. 

She stepped in without looking back, and the door closed behind her with a snap and hiss. 

Natus looked up to his father as they shared a moment of quiet behind the other side of the cell door. 

"My son, you know what to do. Search your feelings."

And Vader kept walking down the hall, leaving Natus alone with this beautiful, familiar and mysterious woman on the other side of the door. 

"Search your feelings," he whispered to himself. It sounded so simple but there was a war behind his eyes, so much shrieking and crashing, burning and confusion. Hallways that twisted around each other, leading to nowhere, and nowhere had answers. 

"Search your feelings. I know what to do." He said louder this time, but there was no confidence in his cadence. 

Everything was so loud. He balled his fists, gloves creaking. He could do exactly what happened with Solo, after Father had helped him, he wouldn't make more mistakes, he would feel enlightened by doing what is right for the Empire. He could do that again with her.

"I know what to do." He rocked on his heels, back and forth ever so slightly, gaining momentum, pushing forward to a step. Natus pressed a button on the panel, and the cell door slid open. 

She turned to face him, their eyes met. Her brown eyes were so full of care seeing into his soul and he felt all the gold drain from his own eyes. All the malice and revenge left him like a kick to the gut. He could double over and gasp raggedly for air but he just stood motionless, unable to move a muscle. 

"Is Vader gone?" She also seemed stunned and breathless.

"Why would I ever tell you that?" His lips barely moved to form the words. His voice foreign and distant. Embarrassingly quiet. 

Yes.

"Luke."

Natus shook his head vigorously, bangs whipping back and forth. He was physically unable to bring words past his throat. He stepped back, the will to escape this shrinking box clawing at him, but the will to stay, be with this woman just a second longer, rung through every fiber of his being. 

"You called out to me," she said in a rush to get all the words out before he disappeared, either from the room or from his mind. "Don't you remember? It was through the force. A dream. You asked for my help?"

A pause, he yanked his eyes away from the door back to her.

"I'm here Luke. Just like you said. I'm here."

"You—" his voice was so dry and it cracked heavily, barely making a sound. She stepped closer, they were nearly touching. In the calm, he searched his feelings. "You have kind eyes."

She put a hand on his lifelessly pale cheek. The world stopped spinning. Her hand was so soft. A tear fell against his will. He pressed a white-gloved hand to his face, and it came back damp from the single tear. Silently, he looked back to her.

Shocked from the display of emotion, his blue eyes wide, he ran from the room. 

As soon as Natus was a fair distance away from her, his emotions screamed around him, turning to chaos, slamming into his ears. Even if he ran back to his room with the door closed behind him, the fresher shower on, beating into his back, scalding hot or frozen cold, meditating for hours and hours, bringing himself to the brink of death, Natus knew nothing would be able to drown out the noise this time.

I'm here. Search your feelings. Through passion I gain strength. Just like you said. Through strength I gain power. You know what to do. Through power I gain victory. A dream. Through victory my chains are broken.

Just like you said.

I'm here. 

Though the medical droids have pieced him back together again and again, there is only one other being who he feels comfortable being vulnerable to. Only one place he could go, even if it was against his better judgment. Troopers marched, and ships took off around him, sweeping his cape as he made his way through the hanger, focusing on a signature that had not yet left his consciousness. The screaming noise of the ships were dull in comparison to the chaos in his mind.

"Mandalorian." Natus spoke formally, knowing his voice carried. 

Sure enough, his helmeted head appeared from where he was working on a panel of the ship—an unnecessary fix to fly—his hunter was stalling. And Natus couldn't be more relieved. He could focus on this. The voices in his head quieted to a background hum.  

The Mandalorian jumped to the floor from atop the ship with a grace that revealed decades of practice. 

"I have an urgent matter in which I need to inspect your ship." Natus coughed slightly; on top of all of the other emotions, he felt like a fool. 

"If it's urgent." The hunter towered over him, helm tilted down, grazing over Natus before turning. "Then follow me."

Natus realized despite being in the ship's proximity countless times, he had never actually stepped inside, and for a moment, he worried he had crossed a boundary. But the moment couldn't linger because the second they were bothshielded from outside eyes and security cams, the Mandalorian crossed several feet in a flash to be closer to him, scanning him for injury. 

"Are you alright? What happened."

Natus released a shaky breath, relaxing to the proximity. He was here. He was safe.

"I'm fine."

The helmet titled and stared.

"It was that woman, she just had one look at me and told me things I don't believe, and I fell apart. I'm a weak fool. Who lets their prisoners interrogate them! Father would be so disappointed."

"Why?" Din gently pushed. Not sure of what he was hoping to uncover. 

"He told me to search my feelings. But I don't have feelings, only voices crying out in my head. I can never extrapolate anything that makes sense. It's clouded."

In a single movement, Din scooped the Sith into his arms, resting his head atop the other man, applying a pressure and comfort that he knew was so rare. 

"Now that can't be all true," his deep voice rumbled; every one of Natus' senses filled with the man before him. Smoke and woodchips. A surprising softness despite the armor. He focused on this, letting the waves wash over him, taking him far away from the Descant, far away from this damned galaxy. He wanted to be closer to this strange source of dependability, companionship, and comfort. To feel him more. And he knew the other man wanted that as well. What an odd pair they are, indeed. "You can feel this and the floor beneath our feet," Natus released a shaky exhale in his arms, "you can feel me."

Din leaned backward, resting against a wall, bringing Natus with him, letting the weight of the man fall even more on him. Natus nestled into him, slotting their arms and legs together and burying his face in Din's neck just so that he could feel the warmth of his breath through the cowl. Din's hand followed random paths and circles along the blond's back, feeling him relax even more. Natus responded in turn, moving his hands all across Dins' body, his back, his shoulders, arms. Through all of this, Din's pelvis was in a wonderfully close position to the other man's in between his legs where they half stood half lay, learning each other once again but with so many layers of clothing and armor in the way. 

Din didn't dare move or initiate despite the uncontrolled feeling his pants were beginning to feel too tight. Natus was in a very vulnerable state, and Din wanted to help him, which meant letting the blond lead in whatever action he was comfortable with. 

Sure enough, as if Natus read his mind, he guided Din's hand to the swell of his ass. Din gripped the skin and clothes with a wide grasp and earned a whimper in his ear. Understanding the message, Din lifted the man up, lightly dragging him along the bulge in his pants, feeling the other man was just as hard as he was. Din started a slow rhythm. The friction dueto the clothes catching between them in all of the right places.

"Mh, this okay?" Din asked, dazed already by just a few lifts.

"s'Yes please."

Din could already tell this was going to be ragged and desperate...and leave a mess. Despite knowing it would also be mind-blowing and cataclysmic, that's not what he wanted with this man right now. 

With a particularly drawn out thrust he asked, "Do you want me to take you to my room?"

The other man, now clinging to him for purchase, nose having wriggled it's was through Din's cowl, hot breath on Din's neck, their only skin touching, "Please." 

"So polite."

In a flash Din turned them around, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist, and walked them only a few feet to the side, where he strung open the cloth revealing the small dim bunk with hardly enough room for them both to fit.

"Oh," the blond let out a small light chuckle, a warm smile crossing his features—possibly the rarest sight in the galaxy. He leaned his head back on Din's breastplate, admiring the view before him. "My room is slightly bigger. But I like yours more." 

The room was small, yes, but it was warm, and quiet. It didn't show the vastness of space or have magically always pressed flat sheets that were blinding white and vast empty spaces that faintly smelled like disinfectant. No, it was rough and it was home. 

"I'm glad," Din rasped, leading the other man in and closing the curtain behind them. The room became dark, but Din could just about make out the features on the man's face before him. Soft relaxed smile, pupils blown. 

He felt hands on his belt and heard a click, his holster and all fell to the floor. Followed by Din's pauldrons, and chestplate. Din started working on unclipping the Sith's cape, unpinning the black flap over his heart, revealing the plain white jumper. Until, of course, he took that off too. After a sufficient amount of clothing and armor had been removed, Din laid the blond on his bed, then crawled his way on top of the other man. 

Their hands drawing over each other, the blond sucking marks into Din's skin as Din rolled his cock into the man's upper thigh, hand below messaging an opening, earning small hums and gasps from the lips occasionally pausing their endeavors. 

When it was time, Din sat up, bringing the blond with him, and turned him around so that the Sith's back was to his chest, Din's cock twitched next to his ass earning a small grind backwards. An arm went below the bed, patting around a few times before grasping the small bottle and bringing it up to them, Din flipped the lid open. Then, he reached in front of him to grab Natus' neglected member, and began stroking him, spreading the wetness so that his hand ran smoothly along him. Din's forearm and bicep, as his arm worked, locked the man in place as he wriggled on his lap. Din aligned his member to the other man's opening and ever so slightly putting his tip into him. 

With his free hand, Din reached upwards, heart pounding with nerves, but once again, he thought to Leia and her courage and unclipped the latch on his visor, releasing a hiss.

Natus gasped, his stomach filling with butterflies and fear—" But!" Din tightened his grip on his cock while his hand worked. The helm dropped on the bed with a dull thud. 

"Keep looking forwards Mesh'la. I trust you." And he slid the rest of the way into the tight warmth and wetness.

They both released a gasp. And oh, how Din should have done this ages ago. This was… hardly bending the rules of the creed. A mere oversight really. He breathed in fully the other man's scent, dragging his tongue hot across the man's neck as he set a slow, brutal pace. 

I trust you. 

Everything swirled, senses maxed out. All six inches of him buried deep, his hand working his cock, but stars, his voice—his real voice—without the visor. So pure and soft and he stored it in a secret place in his mind and heart that could never be forgotten. And oh, he has scruff. Natus didn't try to think about what his lover looked like below the helm—an invasion of privacy—he knew he would never be given the opportunity. Besides, after their first encounter, his curiosity surrendered to a fierce respect. But the light scratching along his shoulder and then neck indicating a bit of facial hair suited the man he knew well. Above all, what dizzied him the most—trust. This was the Mandalorians' most sacred religious tradition, yet his helm lay hollow on the bed. For him. He trusted him. Those lips glided along him, leaving marks he would cherish for rotations to come. Soft gasps and moans that were otherwise lost to the vocabulator. Natus kept it all, storing it in a secret place in his mind that could never be touched. The galaxy long forgotten in the best of ways---

"Luke."

An unfiltered voice—a low pleased grown. It was barely above a whisper. A secret. A confession of a sin. Natus' whole body tensed. Was that word a mistake? He couldn't be thinking of another lover...was it intentional? Why did it make him feel such a way? Why did it feel like a child learning to use a naughty word for the first time without knowing what it meant, just that it was wrong.

But Din purposefully ignored the other mans reeling mind and pressed open-mouthed kisses and licks to his neck, grasping his cock slightly harder.

"Say—," Natus' jaw painfully clamped shut, a desperate attempt to stop himself. Hellfire and holy water—the temptation too great.

"Say it again," He got out through gritted teeth. 

He felt the small bite on his neck morph into a smile.

"Luke." A faint voice, hot breath, the subtle scratch followed by teeth, then a kiss. A particularly deep thrust.

A darkest secret. Fit for a shadowed, tucked away room such as this. No one could ever know... particularly Father and Master. And, as far as Natus was concerned, if no one ever found out, maybe, just maybe, they could both lose their religions—at least for as long as they could hold each other. 

His heart kicking against his chest, all wrong in all the right ways.

"Again."

A hard thrust, nearing pain.

"Luke."

Natus cried out, barely forming the words, choppy and broken from the rhythm. "A-gain."

Instead of immediately obliging, the Mandalorian scooped the sith up once more, releasing his grip around his member, leaving him with an obscene noise—a feeling of emptiness and cold—and pinning him flat on his stomach. The blond lay sprawled. Tight lean muscles, small waist, taking up what little space there was on the mattress, slick and waiting for him. 

"Please." Natus whimpered softly, blowing hair that was sticking to his forehead. How could Din refuse?

The Mandalorian crawled on top of him, grabbed a fistful of the blond's hair not to pull hard but to guide away from accidentally getting a glimpse of his face, and nuzzled back to that space on Natus' marked neck. 

It was during that moment when six inches were sliding back into him without a single hitch or helpful guide when Natus, dazed and with rolled back eyes, registered the discarded helm laying immediately next to him on the mattress. It took everything in him not to cum then and there.

"Luke." The voice rasped, grabbing his hair even more firmly. With the new angle, despite Natus not being able to do more than wiggle and prop his ass higher for easier access, his hunter certainly had considerably more leverage. And he knew how to use it.

He pounded again and again, "Luke–Luke–Luke…"

Natus clung to the sheets below him, eyes squeezed shut.

"Ah!��A-gain!"

His hunter slid all the way out only to slam back in, jolting him forward on the mattress. 

"L-uke!"

Natus came with a cry, and the Mandalorian wasn't far behind, pumping out his release before collapsing all his weight onto the man below him. In contrast to his last touches, he gently found Natus' ear, nibbling the lobe and whispering one last time before the word could be demonized again.

"My Mesh'la Luke."

They lay together for what could be an eternity, neither of them speaking, because speaking required asking questions and finding answers, and it was better if they pretended Din didn't just do the most forbidden thing in the galaxy. For as long as they stayed in the safety of the dim light, Din could keep his helmet off and could keep licking, and kissing, biting, and using his mouth to feel and live and pleasure for the first time in his life.

He treasured every texture and wanted more and more. He nipped and kissed and licked downwards, following a trail, heheard the blond moan above him. He had never done this before but stars, has he always wanted to try. To return the favor. To enjoy and pleasure his partner in a new way. He slid to the edge of the bed, pinning the blond from looking up with a strong, muscular arm.

He continued downwards, licking the last of the release, enjoying the taste and the smell of these new sensations. Din was pleasantly surprised how easy it was to coax the man back to full hardness. He slipped his swollen lips over the head of the cock, slowly bobbing, swirling, and tugging with his free hand. 

The Sith, out of instinct, reached out, placing a gentle hand in Din's hair. Like a burn, the Sith recoiled, feeling Din's curls, regretting learning more about what lay behind the helm. But Din reached up, finding the man's hand, placing it back in his hair, letting him guide, enjoying the tug and pull of his hair like a drop of water in a desert.

When the man came in his mouth, he licked up everything and made his way back up, to continue to worship the other man's body with his mouth. His chest, arms, neck, face, near his lips, but a spike of nerves hit him, and he opted to kiss his nose, going higher…

Until finally, Din dragged his tongue along the small slice of a scar over Natus' temple.

The sheets moved as Natus abruptly sat up, careful not to see the other man's head.

"I have to leave. There is something I need to take care of."

And as quickly as they were able to reassemble themselves, he was past the curtain, running down the ramp into the shiphold and gone.

—-

By the time Natus reached Pershing's office, he was already fuming, the force vibrating through every tendon and nerve, setting his skin alight. 

The door flung open and he burst inside. 

"Alright Pershing," he said as a entered, "I'm suddenly very curious about your research. Please, tell me more."

Testing vials and data pads lined the walls and the room rank of disinfectant. The man at the center of it all jumped, turning straight as a board mid-air, then scrambled to adjust his glasses, pushing them upwards on the bridge of his nose.  

"Lord Natus! It's an honor. Really, it is! But—I um, but I." Natus gave him a look that inspired motivation. "As you know, we have been collecting force users for sampling and trials. I specifically oversee the physical manipulation, as you know with the binders test." A long pause, some piece of equipment let out a harmless beep, "I don't want to bore you with the nuances…"

"Are there any other forms of…persuasion? Like mental instead of physical?" 

"Well, Moff Gideon is rather adamant that I don't share about…"

Natus stressed every syllable, fire sparking in his eyes. "I implore you to reconsider."

"Sir, you don't have the clearance to—"

"TELL ME!" The lights in the room flickered and beakers shook with their liquids on the shelf.

"We. We. Well. There is a procedure," Natus' eyes widened in disbelief as Pershing ran a finger along his temple in the exact spot as his scar. When he said "procedure," the other man's eyes wildly searched his own, praying he understood. 

His goggled eyes darted around with the caution of a man whose every word was monitored. "It has shown to be successful. With results better than I had anticipated, so there is no concern there… for force users no matter where they fall on the Metaclorian Scale or spectrum from light to dark." 

Their eyes met again, "Incorporating the latest neuro-synergistic feedback inhibition," he went on fluent and sophisticated, his words bleeding into the soft hum of the machinery. But everything that needed to be said had already been spoken, now the scientist drowned on, trying to dilute his treason in jargon.

Thank you Pershing, you are a good man. 

—

ADVANCED SCIENCE DIVISION

REPORT #912577-B3

}}

<CHIEF SCIENTIST = {REDACTED}

ISSUE: "UPDATE"

SPECIMEN ID: 000002

NAME: "NATUS">

ULTERIOR: "LK SKYWLKR">

}}

<LOCATION: IMPERIAL RESEARCH CENTER 23-B>

<NATUS has once again reached STAGE THREE under directive: diverging from suggestive protocol: A392D. Resembling self-awareness.> 

<RESPONDENT CONNECTING>

…

<MESSAGE LOADING>

…

…

<This is the fifth time STAGE THREE has been reached. Do you believe it is of any concern?>

<I believe extra precautions are warranted. It is my recommendation that the specimen should not continue to interact with Princess Leia Organa. That has been the primary cause of reaching STAGE 4 previously.>

<MESSAGE LOADING>

…

…

…

…

<Lord Vader has permitted their interactions on the account of strengthening loyalty to the Empire.>

<With respect, it is my and my team's belief that continued proximity is unwise. Even with this goal in mind.>

<MESSAGE LOADING>

…

…

<Without loyalty, your research is meaningless. Treat the specimen's fate as your own. Progress will resume as normal.>

<RESPONDENT DISCONNECTED>

-----

Chapter 9 will be out in 2 weeks.

Reblogs help my story grow 🌱 <3

[golden-afternoon]

completely self indulgent college au kazuha drabble that i just pumped out like 5 minutes ago while stuck outside of the house and overstimulated as heck. this is part of a college au i've been working on with my dear friend @puffybee-dreams. poe belongs to her! (thanks for letting me kidnap her >:33)

warnings - gn! reader, vent/comfort thing about being anxious and overstimulated in public. not really going anywhere, just a little drabble that helped me feel better :33 so yeah unedited self indulgence be upon ye

Fire. Burning, burning, electricity that lingers on the ends of your fingertips, leaving everything feel like frayed wires, arcing like somethings not connected where it should be, or perhaps like there was power going through where none should be. It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt.

Overwhelmed.

Overclocked.

Overloaded.

For a moment, you had even forgotten where you were, standing in the coffee shop, not even realizing that the woman behind the counter had called your name multiple times already. Confused, and maybe a little perturbed, she turned to her coworker, shoving the paper cup in his hands as he approached, asking him to take over, her mahogany ponytail whipping as she turned to greet another customer who had entered.

Red eyes glanced down to the cup in hand and then back up to you standing there, eyes unfocused as you stared off into nothing. Puzzlement melted into understanding as he put together what was going on. Fortunately they weren’t very busy at this hour, giving him the opportunity to slip around the counter, trusting Poe with the other man who had come in on her own. There was a moment of hesitation, as he didn’t want to alarm you. Raise his voice too loud and that could send you deeper into fight or flight, tap your shoulder and he’s at risk of catching a fist to the face.

He opted instead to step into your line of vision, piping hot cup of coffee still in his hands as he extended it closer, watching your eyes click into focus, zeroing in on the cup before snapping up to meet his gaze.

“O-Oh god, sorry. My bad.” The gentle smile never wavered on his face even as you stuttered, hands reaching out for the cup with slightly trembling fingertips.

Burning burning burning burning burning.

“Its quite alright,” he said, making a point to keep his voice soft as he spoke, hesitating for a moment before chuckling beneath his breath as he adjusted his visor to fix his white hair beneath, seemingly out of habit. “Though, if I may say, I’m not sure a coffee would be ideal right now.”

He watched as you blinked back at him, cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. He worried he spoke too much before you looked down at your cup, thumbs brushing against the warm paper above the sleeve.

Grounding. The heat of the cup was grounding. Slowly the familiar, soothing scent of roasted coffee, bitter and warm, began to register vaguely in the back of your mind.

A slightly awkward laugh left your lips. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I kinda just… got what I always get.”

His expression softened further, a light chuckle passing his lips as he did. As much as he would like to claim ignorance, he didn’t miss the aversion of your eyes from his as he laughed. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction to him, but on you, for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to mind. “That’s understandable.” He motioned to the cup in your hands. “If you’d allow me to, I wouldn’t mind replacing that with a tea. Only if you’d like, of course.”

A beat of hesitation. Thumbs brushing slowly along the space between the sleeve and the lid of the cup, repetitive, thoughtless, necessary.

“I’d hate to bother you with that.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Its no trouble at all.” The answer was soft, firm, sure. Immediate. “No one else is in at the moment anyway.” Another soft chuckle left his lips, one that made your heart flutter in a different way than it had been before. Well, at least these feelings swirling in your stomach almost completely blew away the former dread that had settled in there.

Slowly, with a small smile on your lips, you offered him back the cup, glancing to his nametag before meeting his eyes. “If you’re sure. Thank you, Kazuha.”

His smile returned, gentle, warm, like sunshine peering out from the clouds to warm your skin beneath its glow. It was so simple, but you couldn't help but smile back, basking in this gentle warmth as the burning feelings cooled to embers, not gone, but far more bearable.

[shsy7573]

Two-Hundred Days

A Voltron Fanfiction by shsy7573

Description: When Keith goes radio silent after weeks of daily video calls with his boyfriend, Lance begins to worry. To cope with the stress, he begins filming daily audio recordings on Keith’s old helmet. As Lance’s mental health begins to deteriorate, each message becomes more depressing than the last. What happens when Keith finally returns, and listens to how broken his boyfriend has become?

Relationships: Klance

WARNING: thoughts and discussions of suicide. Cursing

Notes/Info: Langst. Hurt/comfort. Screw canon, Lance is Blue Paladin, Keith is Red. Depressed Lance. Suicidal Lance. I didn’t include every single recorded message (obviously), but i figured I’d just include instances that highlighted Lance’s descent into deep depression. Tbh I don’t know how I feel about this one. The writing feels awkward/out of character, but let me know what you think. I kinda just had this idea pop into my head so I wrote it down :/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance sat down and rested his back resting against the wall. He scanned the room. It was a place he’d been to many times before, and it wasn’t all that different from the other quarters in the castle. It was quaint, small. A bed ran along the side of the wall, its blue sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. There was a long compartment for belongings located next to the door, and a coat hanger right above it with a red and white jacket. Keith’s jacket. He’d left it behind when he’d joined the Blade.

It had been days since Lance had heard from the former Paladin. Nobody else was worried. Why would they be? They didn’t get daily calls from the half-Galran. Then again, it would be weird if they did. They weren’t his boyfriend.

Lance missed Keith. A lot. It was lonely on the ship without having his favourite Red Paladin to snuggle into. He missed the long conversations in Red or Blue’s cockpits, or the late-at-night encounters in the kitchen when neither Paladin could sleep. The team just felt… empty without him. Or maybe Lance just felt empty.

Usually, though, he’d have their morning calls to look forward to. It was the only time of day Keith was always one-hundred percent free. Apparently the Blade of Marmora were late risers. Mornings had become Lance’s favourite part of the day, whereas before it had been a struggle to get out of bed.

That’s part of the reason he was so worried. He knew Keith enjoyed their time together too, his boyfriend wouldn’t miss out unless he was doing something really important. Right?

Lance sighed. He didn’t even know why he’d come to Keith’s room. Obviously he wasn’t just going to show up here. That's not how things worked. Still, he’d hoped it would at least make him feel closer to the boy in some way. That it would do something to cure the aching in his gut that had started to emerge since he went radio silent. It didn’t, though. In fact Lance almost felt more separated from him.

The Blue Paladin stood up again, about to leave when something caught his eye. A small glint coming from inside the chest - which apparently wasn’t fully closed. Curiously, Lance walked over, and opened the trunk to discover Keith’s abandoned Paladin armour.

Oh. I was wondering what he did with that. Lance thought, reaching down and picking up the helmet. Ever since Keith left, Allura had been piloting the Red Lion. She hadn’t used Keith’s armour, though, instead opting to make a set with pink trimming. The Paladin smiled, wiping dust off the visor as he sat down again beside the chest. Man, this thing’s been through it.

He wasn’t exactly sure what prompted him to do it. Maybe because it was something of Keith’s, and he missed talking to him, maybe he just needed to vent without worrying anyone with his problems. Either way, he reached inside the helmet and activated the recording function.

-

[ RECORDING ONE ]

There was a shuffling noise, followed by a light jostling as the helmet was set down. It was quiet at first. The only sounds being picked up were the breathing of another person, and a quiet, awkward shuffling.

Then, a small, uncertain voice began to speak. “Uh… hey man. It’s… been a couple days since we’ve talked. I keep wondering if maybe something’s happened to you. I hope not. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. You're probably just busy, but… I can’t help worrying about you. I love you, you know? And I miss you.”

The speaker took a breath, and the muffled sound of his voice as it went on suggested he’d put his head in his hands. “Dios, this was stupid. What am I even doing?” He inhaled, and his voice became clearer once more. “Whatever, I’m doing it now. So, fuck it I guess.”

More shuffling as the speaker repositioned himself. “It’s pretty early right now. About the time we’d usually call. You got me into the habit of waking up early, you know? Mama would overjoyed to hear that.”

“Nobody else is awake yet. Uhh… the whole Allience thing with Lotor is still pretty new. It’s been pretty hard to trust him, but… if he’s telling the truth it could be nice to finally have another ally. Especially one whose Zarkons son.”

“Hunk is experimenting with the food replicators again. He’s trying to flavour the goo to taste like spaghetti, so far it hasn’t worked. I’m not sure I really want spaghetti in goo form, but it’s good he’s trying new things. Allura’s still doing really well as the Red Paladin. I was worried for a while she’d be pissed about switching from Black, but I don’t think she minds. As long as she gets to fight she seems happy. Now that we know King Alfor binding the lions with her quintessence makes her able to fly any of them, I don’t think she’ll be leaving the cockpit anytime soon. Shiro is… well, he’s Shiro. He’s… definitely getting more and more done with all my shit. So, that’s something I guess. Pidge… we’ll, she won’t admit it but I think she still misses her dad. And, with mat working with the resistance it’s like she’s all alone again. I think she’s better, though.”

“Umm, let’s see, uh… yeah, we all miss you. Me especially, even though I already said that. I know the Blade would reach out if something had happened to you— at least, I hope they would. I’ll just… try to be patient. I think that’s about it. See you, man. Hopefully, I’ll talk to you soon.”

The sound of shifting metal could be heard, followed by a soft click.

-

[ RECORDING TEN ]

A bit of static washed over the mic, before the telltale sign of something being placed down.

“Hey, Keith, I’m… yeah I’m still doing these. Still… haven’t heard anything from you yet. I’m really starting to worry. Are you alright? Surely you’re fine. You can’t be dead. Somebody would know… right? But… What if you’re lost? What if you’re hurt?! Damn it, I’m freaking out. I think the others are starting to notice something’s wrong. I just— I can’t stop thinking about you. Please just… I really need you to call. I hate not knowing what’s going on.”

Lance took a deep breath, and he was silent for a few moments before continuing. “Nothing new has happened. Still the same old Castle. I tried telling Shiro that I was worried, but he just said I needed to focus. That… I couldn’t worry about you, because you could take care of yourselves and Voltron needed my attention. And he’s right. Of course he is, he’s Shiro. I just… I don't know if I can.”

“That’s about it, I guess. I miss you, please call. I love you.”

-

[ RECORDING ELEVEN ]

“Hey, me again. It’s the next morning, and… I don’t know, I really just needed to talk. Shit’s been happening lately, Allura and Lotor think they’ve made a…discovery? Coran - and the rest of us for that matter - isn’t too sure, we’re all a little sceptical. Still, Allura seems on board with it, so we’re giving it a go.”

“Everyone’s been a little… crabbier than usual. I keep trying to lighten the mood, but that just pisses them off more. I’m sure they just need to blow off some steam. If they need to yell at me to take the edge off, then I— I suppose I’m okay with it. They don’t… actually mean the things they’re saying. So it’s fine… I guess”

“I’m still really, really fucking worried about you. I don’t—“ his voice strained for a moment, and when he spoke again it sounded teary, “I don’t know what to think. I just— Keith, if you die I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do. The team can’t afford for me to be grieving right now but, I just can’t— I’m such a fucking mess. Please… please come back. Just send a message or— or at least give me some sort of sign that you’re alive! I need you to be alive, Keith!”

He sniffled, and the microphone was shifted slightly.

“Please… please call me soon. I love you.”

-

[ RECORDING TWENTY-THREE ]

“So… listen. I know I said that I was okay if everyone started yelling at me, b-but… I— I—“ his voice broke. There were a couple moments where the sounds of crying could be heard, before the speaker composed himself and started talking again. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining about this. We have so many better things to worry about. It’s— god some of the things they say, they fucking hurt, man. Like, I know I’m fucking stupid but that doens’t mean I want to hear it all the time. I— I’m just trying to do my best. I just want to help.”

Lance sniffled, taking deep breaths to try and compose himself before continuing. “God, Keith they— I think they hate me. Or, at least they’re starting to. That’s the only explanation for why they— they just—“ he sighed.

“I wish you were here,” he cried, not even trying to conceal his misery anymore. “I— I miss you… so much, Keith. I don’t know where you are, and I’m terrified. Keith. Please just… come home. Come back to me. Let me know you’re alright.”

The Blue Paladin was quiet, his cries having died off in the last sentence. It was so quiet there was barely an indication for when the microphone was switched off yet again.

-

[RECORDING FIFTY-ONE]

“—eith!” Lance all but yelled into the microphone. Having started talking before the recording and even started. “Oh my god, Kieth, I don’t— I don’t know what to do!” He whispered. His breathing was sparratic. And there was a constant jostling that suggested the camera was shaking. “I— I— I died Keith. We-w we were just trying to h-help fix this Galra base. It was— Allura was gonna— there was gonna be an explosion so I- I jumped in! I just— I don’t even— I knew we couldn’t lose her! I would rather it be me and so I just… and then I— died and— and nobody even—“ his breathing was out of control now.

“I c— I— h—“ the Paladin tries to force the words out, but it was no use. For several minutes, he sobbed as panic swept over him. Being picked up by the helmet as ragged and quick inhalations of breath. Lance forced himself to take deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. After a while, he settled down enough to talk again. Though, his voice was shaky and weak.

“Bl-blue saved me. She— she shared some of her quintessence with me, an-and our bond is stronger than-than ever. I can hear he-her talk now. Which… is cool I g- I guess.” He continued to breathe slowly as he spoke.

“I— I don’t even think anybody cared.” He whispered, squeezing it past the lump in his throat. “They didn’t— they didn’t even say anything, I— m-maybe they don’t know? But y-you’d think they w-would have felt something?”

Lance sniffled, and his voice became muffled as he placed his head in his lap. “I don’t know anymore. I… I just know that I miss you. I really miss you Keith,” he mumbled, voice sad and thick as he sobbed. “And I just— I— I need you, and I miss you, and I love you and I just— I- I feel so alone. I am so alone.”

“I’m sorry. Whatever I did, whatever stupid thing I’ve done to make the universe take you away from me, I’m sorry! Please! I need you! I c— I don’t want to be alone anymore!” He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, before sighing. “I just want you to come back. Please, come back. I— I love you.”

There were a couple more minutes of crying, before the recording finally ended.

-

[ RECORDING NINETY-EIGHT]

There was a sigh as the recording started. The room was silent for a couple moments, before Lance started talking. “Hey, Keith. I… was going to make this in the morning, but… I just… haven’t had the energy to do this. So, I’m doing it now, right before I go to bed.” His voice was monotone. Tired. “I don’t know what to think anymore. The Blade haven’t been in contact, so… I’m assuming you’re not dead. I’m hoping you're not dead.”

“A lot of stuff has been happening. I… if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to talk about it. Nobody on the team is very happy with me. I keep annoying them. I’m not trying to, I just— I don’t know how else to lighten the mood. The good thing is, with everyone being so pissed at me they’re not really arguing with each other. So, that’s good good, I guess. At least I’m doing something useful.”

“You’ve been radio silent for, um… gosh how long has it been? I— I think a little over three months? I don’t know, I’ve lost track. Everytime I ask the team if they’ve heard anything they tell me to stop being paranoid, and focus on the mission. They’re right. I’m already enough of a hindrance without nagging twenty-four seven.”

He sighed again, shifting as he swallowed thickly. “That’s… all I have to report. Miss you. Love you.”

- AFTER KEITH COMES BACK AND ALL THE FINALE AND SHIRO REVIVAL HAPPENS ALSO DON’T ASK BUT THE PLANET THEY STOP ON RIGHT AFTER ALL THAT HAS A FOREST NOW I’VE DECIDED -

Keith stretched as he and the other Paladins sat around the fireplace. He was pretty content. Shiro was back, actually back, and they’d gathered enough resources to get on the road again. Of course not everything was great. They’d lost the castle, obviously, and it would be a long time before they reached earth… but they’d manage.

Keith had retaken up the mantle as Red Paladin, not at all sorry to admit that he’d missed his Lion. Shiro had gratefully backed out of the Paladin position. He was still pretty shaken up after being extracted from Black and shoved into Kuran’s cloned body.

Yeah, it had been a weird couple of days.

Now that they were on the road, though, Keith figured he’d better make a note of it somewhere. Something told him he’d be wanting to keep track of events. He stood up, stretching as he spoke, “I’ll be back, guys. Just gotta do something.” The others murmured acknowledgements as he walked away. Keith completely missed the look of longing on his boyfriend's face as he made his way over to Red.

The leaned leaned down her head, opening her jaw to let him in. He entered casually, sending a mental greeting to the beast. She replied with a purr, warmth blazed through his mind at her greetings as he sat down in the pilot’s chair. Keith sat there for a moment, relaxing before reaching down to start a recording on his helmet.

To his dismay, the second it started, the recording ended, sending out a little automated message.

“Memory data, full.”

That was odd, Keith had never made a recording of this thing in his life. He opened the history, and was shocked to see that a stream of videos were practically flooding its memory banks. One for every single day for the last month.

Who the fuck has been using my helmet? He questioned, opening the latest message in curiosity.

Suffice it to say he was shocked to hear Lance’s broken, devastated voice on the other end.

[ RECORDING TWO HUNDRED]

The mic switched on, immediately being overcome by sobbing. They were loud, depressing and defeated. It sounded like they were being torn from their speaker’s throat. “I— I fucked up, Keith.”

“Lance?”

“They all hate me for sure now! I— I know they do! I do! I was just trying to help.”

What’s going on? Why is he so upset? Keith wondered, heart rate picking up as he listened to the recording.

“Allura and Lotor were— were working on the- the ship, and I offered to help but— but I don’t know how to build. I’m not an engineer, I didn’t- why the fuck did I even think that was a good idea! I just wanted to be helpful like- like Pidge, or Hunk. They said they were fine, but I insisted! And… and I made them all upset. I just kept getting I— in the way. They got so mad, Keith, they were so mad!”

What? Keith wondered, his heart breaking as he listened.

He sobbed harder, breathing quickly as he pressed on. “Pidge was— Pidge was right! And Shiro was right— a—and Iverson and-and fucking everyone! I— can’t- I can't do it! I’m just a fuck up, I’m a fucking idiot! I’m so stupid! I can’t— I can’t do anything right! I’ll never- b—be able to- t-to do anything right! I’m just a screw up! I’m— s-so useless”

“No!” Kieth protested to no one as the voice echoed through his Lion’s cockpit. What happened to you while I was gone?

He shouldn’t be listening to this. This was obviously a private recording. Then again… he sounds so sad. And.. it is being addressed to me…

He couldn’t force himself to stop listening. He was so glad he didn’t.

“I know why you disappeared now. You probably got fed up with me too. You stopped calling because y— you couldn’t take me anymore.”

No! How could you even think that?!

“You didn’t want me around! You got sick of m—me and how ann-noying I am. You d-didn’t want to b—to— be around someone this worthless!”

Keith could feel tears starting to form in his eyes. That’s not true! None of it! You’re not worthless!

“It’s okay I— I understand! I don’t either! I know th—that everyone wou-would be better off-f-f without me. I know— I know they o-only keep me ar-aro-ound is because there’s nobody else compatible wi-w-ith Blue!”

Lance, no!

“If— if you were here I— I know I’d be s—sent away. You would Pi-i-lot Red, and Allura could pilot Blue and th-a-then I’d just be nothing! Nobody! No use in keeping me around! You c-could all finally get rid of me! I want to get rid of me!”

The Red Paladin’s eyes widened. He couldn’t mean…

The crying, somehow, just became more desperate. More heart-wrenching, “I— I- d-d-on’t- wa-at to do this anymore, Keith!”

Then again, Keith didn’t think anyone could fake this level of heartache.

“I ca— I can’t! If there wasn’t- if there was an—anyone else I wouldn’t even— I would— I’d just stop! I don’t want to live anymore! I h-hate not be—eing able to do anything!”

Don’t you even dare, Lance!

“If you came back, and I wasn’t- couldn’t be useful anymore. I— I- don’t— I would just—“ he gasped, hard as he tried to force the words out, “I don’t—“ another big inhale, “I don’t think I could do-o it anymore! I co-couldn’t bear to-to have you lo-look at me! I could-dn’t stand you hating me. I w- I would just fucking end it so you all w-wouldn’t have to-o-o d-e-deal with me anymore!”

Every inch of Keith froze as he heard those words. His thoughts screeched to a halt, heart skipping a beat as his blood ran cold.

“It would b-b-e f-for the best! V-Voltron would be better off! Th-the u-inverse would be b—better off!”

Lance just kept crying. The sheer agony he felt in his soul coming out as loud, wrenching, ugly cries. Like he was trying to expel all the parts of him that he felt weren’t good enough.

“Nobody wants me.” He whispered after a while, when the crying had died down just enough to regain his breath. “I don’t deserve to go back home.”

He swallowed, and there was a shuffling, and a sudden closeness of the voice that suggested he was hugging the helmet. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. E—even though you hate me… I still love you.”

The Blue Paladin sniffled, the sound of skin rubbing skin could be heard as he wiped his tears. “I h-hope one day you come back. For the others. I promise I- I won’t bother you. I pro-promise you would have to deal with me.”

“I’m sorry… mi amor. I’m so- so sorry.”

There was a beat. A single moment taken to process everything he’d just heard. Then, Keith was out of his seat, and racing out of his lion. He tossed helmet to the ground, not even caring as his heart thundered in his chance. He had to find him, he had to find Lance.

I’ve barely even talked to him since I got back! I- everything just happened so fast! I’ve just been so preoccupied… What if he thinks— I haven’t even— oh god, FUCK!

He ran over to the others, not bothering to conceal his panic as he realised that the Blue Paladin was not sitting with the others anymore.

Oh god, oh fuck, oh no!

“Where’s Lance?!”

“Keith, what—“ Shiro started, but the Red Paladin as having none of it.

“WHERE’S LANCE?!”

Pidge shrugged, “uh… he,” she turned to where the Paladin had been sitting and shrugged, “he kinda just disappeared. I don’t exactly—“

“What the fuck is wrong with you! You didn’t even bother to—“ Keith cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn’t have time for this. He grabbed onto Cosmo’s fur.

His dog, seemingly to get the message, immediately teleported them away. They popped up in the forest somewhere, and Keith looked around desperately. His heart sang in relief as he saw the blue and white armour of his boyfriend slinking between the trees.

“LANCE!” Keith shouted, barreling towards him. The boy turned around just in time to be tackled to the ground in a whirlwind of arms and legs. Keith didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything right now. He squeezed Lance tight to his chest as the boy flustered in confusion.

“Kieth, what—“

“Oh my god, you’re okay! You’re okay! Lance y— how could you— do you know how fucking scary that was?! I don’t care that I’ve been inside the stomach of an animal, or that Shiro has almost died like five times, or that we’ve faced an army of like ten thousand Galra ships! I have never been more terrified in my fucking life than when I heard you say you’d kill yourself if I ever came back!”

If possible, he held Lance tighter. “Then— then when I came outside and you weren’t with the others I though— I— I thought that you…”

Lance was silent for a few moments, before a realisation dawned on his face. His shoulders went slack, any attempt of trying to pretend that he was fine dying on his lips.

“The recordings…”

Keith pulled back so he could see Lance’s face. He raised his hands up to grab the boy’s head firm, caressing his cheeks as he stared into those ocean blue eyes. He kept a tight hold with his other hand, as if the second he let Lance go, he would lose him. “I can’t believe— you— do you know how devastated I would be if you— if you tried to…” Keith shook his head, slamming his body into Lance again, sending them both completely to the ground.

Tears filled the Blue Paladin’s eyes. “I… I’m sorry! I’m so-s-sorry! I fucked everything up I— I didn’t mean— I just— I’m so—“

“Don’t you apologise for anything, McClain. I love you so much, Lance. I don’t ever want to lose you. I— I can’t— I don’t even want to imagine a world where you’re not in it! I would never abandon you! Do you hear me?! Never! I would never! Ever! Leave you!”

Lance wrapped his own arm around Keith. Holding the boy just as firmly, with just as much desperation. All he could do was cry. Everything that had been building up pouring out of him as he grasped onto Keith like a lifeline.

“Everything’s just—j- been so much! Ev-verybody ha-h-h-hate me! I’m such a fuck up! I’m- I’m stupid- and I’m weak and- and- I an-nnoy everyone! And it doe-s-doesn’t matter how hard I try! I j- I d- I can’t keep up!” He sobbed, his breaths deep and agonising as he forced more words out through his panic. “I can’t do it anymore! I’m so sick of getting yelled— and scolded a-a-and of p-pe-peo-ple condes-sending me! And— and I know they’re right— I -I know-I its because I’m not good enough! I d-deserve it! But I can’t— I’m sick of being so worthless and I can’t—“

“You are not worthless, Lance! Not one bit! And I… I’m so sorry! When I came back, I was just- I was so preoccupied with everything else I just— I wasn’t even thinking! God, I can’t believe— I can’t imagine how awful you must have felt when I didn’t even— ! I never meant to— I love you, Lance! I love you! You are so beautiful and smart and talented and funny and you… and you are good enough Lance! You are everything! And I hate that you didn’t have anyone around to tell you that, because it’s true! It is so fucking true, Lance! You matter so much! I love you so much! Don’t you ever try to leave me! You matter so much to me!”

Lance shook his head. Sitting up again as he pushed Keith away. “Why, though?! I’m so fucking dumb! I’m incompetent! I can’t do anything right!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is! It’s how everyone has been treating me for the past month! It has to be true! I know it’s true! I just— I can’t even fathom why anyone would ever fucking want me around! I don’t understand why anyone would ever fucking care about me when I’m not even—“

Keith raised a finger to Lance’s lips, stopping the tumbling of words in its tracks. It was too painful. He couldn’t listen to the person that he loved so much talk so little about himself. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right, and Keith wasn’t going to let it happen.

He opened his hand, trailing it from the boy’s mouth to gently caress his cheek. For a moment, he just let himself stare into Lance’s teary eyes, the liquid causing them to shine in the light of the planet. Even though he looked broken and his face was covered in tears and snot, he was still the most beautiful person in the world to Keith. He always would be. The Red Paladin applied a soft, hinting pressure to his partner’s jaw, pulling it towards him ever so slightly.

Lance allowed himself to be guided forward. Both lost in each other’s eyes as they grew closer. Finally, when their lips were close enough that their noses touched, Keith tilted his head.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, in a voice softer than Lance had ever heard him use. His warm breath brushed across Lance’s skin, sending a cascade of shivers all the way down his body.

The Red Paladin shut his eyes, and leaned forward. As the distance between them was finally closed, their lips met. Lance, still in shock, kept his eyes open for a moment before melting into the kiss. It was light, and gentle, but full of emotion. Keith’s devotion and determination came off in waves as he tried to pass on every ounce of his love to the Blue Paladin.

It was something that, over the past few months Lance had wanted so badly. A kind of affection he’d craved for so long now, but had convinced himself he’d never feel again. Convinced himself he didn’t deserve.

At that moment, the rest of the world melted away. There was no more team. No more Voltron. It was just Lance and Keith, tangled in each other’s embrace as they’re lips met in an expression of love, longing, and relief.

[dusteebowl]

Same Coin

it's here! i finished it! bapweaver and yeehan fans rejoice.

summary: hanzo and cole go on a double date with baptiste and niran. they start chatting.

warnings: none

a/n: nothing special, really. a bit of fluff. lots of dialogue. it's all written from hanzo's perspective so...um...there's that.

When Cole had first approached him with the idea, he’d thought he was joking. But now as he looked at himself in the mirror, Hanzo couldn’t help the scowl that was forming on his face.

He was worried that he wouldn’t find something to wear as it had been a long time since he and Cole had gone out on a ‘real’ date. They had outings, sure, but neither of them really felt the need to have the whole ‘sit down fancy dinner and a movie’ thing. Time spent together was more than enough.

So why, at his age, was he even entertaining the idea of something as frivolous and juvenile as a double date?

“Because,” Cole answered at this very question as he straightened his tie. Hanzo hadn't even thought Cole owned ties let alone knew how to wear them, “you needa make friends, darlin’. No man’s an island an’ all that.” Once he was done adjusting his own tie he placed a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo couldn’t help but notice that it was still crooked. “’Sides, me an’ Baptiste go way back. He’s tryna make up for past mistakes.”

What was left unsaid resonated with Hanzo more than he’d like to admit. Cole was hoping they’d connect over the heaviness they felt, that Hanzo would feel as though he wasn’t truly alone when it came to feeling guilt. still…

“There are better ways to make friends than double dates,” Hanzo said gruffly as he readjusted Cole’s tie.

“Perhaps,” the cowboy said knowingly, “but Niran said he’d already made reservations for four.”

He’d made reservations before he even talked to Cole? The new member of Overwatch was as impulsive as he was brilliant it seemed.

“Didn’t anyone tell you if you frowned for too long your face’d get stuck that way?” Cole enquired now with the slightest smile.

“No.”

“Well, this is me, tellin’ you.” Cole gently pried Hanzo’s hands away from his tie. “Darlin’ if you keep frownin’ like that, your face’ll get stuck that way.”

Hanzo could feel his face beginning to blush furiously and he had to look away so Cole wouldn’t see. Even after all this time, his silliness still had an effect on him.

Cole chuckled and gave Hanzo a kiss on the temple.

“It’ll be alright. You’ll see.”

-0O0-

The fantastic restaurant Lifeweaver, sorry, Niran had called it was a Thai restaurant that overlooked the ocean. Hanzo had to admit the view was pretty, amazing even, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was out of place. He and Cole didn’t really frequent places like this, after all. Being at home was far more par for the course for them.

“You made it!” Niran said with a bright smile on his face. His long, white hair was done up in a bun, immaculately tied without a strand out of place. His usual attire was replaced with a soft white button-down dress shirt (with a respectable amount of buttons undone, Hanzo thought now). His pants were a baby pink with roses that you could just see if you squinted, made of the finest material. He looked like a fashion model.

Baptiste was next to him and looked just as handsome in his black suit and orange tie. His beard was well groomed and soft looking, and Hanzo couldn’t help but realise this was probably the first time he saw him without his visor.

The two made for an attractive couple. Hanzo couldn’t help but feel a little out of place and he discreetly adjusted his tie.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cole said, voice like honey. “Thanks for the invitation, Niran.”

“Please, the pleasure is all mine,” Niran said, waving his hand softly before interlocking his arm with Baptiste’s. “Jean and I had wanted to get to know the both of you more, especially after he told me that you gave him a chance despite the…uh…unfortunate circumstances of his previous employment.”

“Think nothing of it,” Cole said. “He ain’t the first I’ve come across who wants to atone for past mistakes, and I’ll be damned if he’s the last.”

“Welcome to the Pink Lotus,” said a woman as they approached the front desk. She was pretty, Hanzo thought, and must have been the hostess. “May I have your name?”

“PruksaManee, Niran,” said the newest member of Overwatch.

A look of recognition crossed the hostess’s face. “Mr. PruksaManee! Right this way.”

It was a minuscule movement, so subtle that were he any other man he wouldn’t have noticed, but Hanzo saw Niran’s eye twitch ever so slightly at her tone. The sentiment was somewhat a familiar one, though it wasn’t really one he’d felt in years.

They got to their table, a four-seater that overlooked the horizon, with a white card sitting atop a gilded silver, flower-shaped stand with the word Reservation written in cursive across it. There was a panel behind them that offered privacy.

They sat down as the waiter offered them the wine menu, something that Hanzo found a bit pretentious (nothing was better than sake in his mind), but he didn’t think it was the time to say anything. Indeed, he hadn’t uttered a word besides the simple introduction he’d made when he and Cassidy first arrived. It was a gruff one, mainly because he still thought that this entire affair was silly, but he kept that opinion close to his chest for his partner’s sake.

Once all the food and drinks had been ordered, Niran leant forward in his chair and placed his chin on interlocked knuckles as he gave a dashing smile to the two men on the opposite side of the table. “I must thank you again for accepting my invitation. Truth be told, I was worried you’d think a double date to be too silly to join.”

Hanzo felt Cole give his hand a knowing squeeze and he nearly grumbled at it. “Silly? Us? Never.”

Niran laughed. “It is silly. Perhaps a little juvenile, some might even say childish. But I fully believe that we should embrace our inner child, what with the way the world is currently and all.” He paused as he tilted his head to the side. “There’s beauty in whimsy. We should nurture it.”

“Whimsy leads to carelessness,” Hanzo said, far quicker than he could stop himself.

Niran blinked at him, but if he was offended Hanzo couldn’t tell. “Perhaps. But I’m tired of hearing that carelessness can only be bad.”

“Forgive Hanzo, he’s had a day,” Cole interrupted quickly, before shooting Hanzo a look that said Please don’t scare away potential friends.

Niran shook his head. “No, forgive me. Philosophy is hardly a topic to be discussed in a casual meeting like this. I should stop before I begin to get ahead of myself. What brought you to Overwatch, Mr. Shimada?”

Hanzo was never comfortable with talking about the reasons for his joining the group. “I came for a debt that needed to be repaid.” I remained for Cole, he thought to himself. A thought that he would never admit out loud, not even to Cole himself, though he knew that Cole knew.

“Did you do it?” Baptiste inquired. “Repay the debt, I mean.”

Hanzo chuckled humourlessly. “It is not so simple. It was forgiven far before I even joined, and yet…” He sighed and trailed off.

“What about you?” Cole asked quickly now, knowing that Hanzo desperately needed an out.

Niran took a moment to respond, as though considering his words very carefully. “I’m wanted in seventeen countries because Vishkar wants my technology, my biolight. I wanted to join a cause where I know it can be used for good.”

“Didn’t ya study at Vishkar?”

“You could say I grew up there,” he said with a smile. “I never cared for it, all the rules and schedules and dress codes… My dear Satya thrived in that environment, but I just felt stifled. When I left, I didn’t look back…  Well, not unless I thought I was being followed. One thing led to another, I found Dr Zhou’s blog entries and as a fan of her work I only thought it prudent that I join her.”

“Dr Zhou? You mean Mei?”

Niran nodded. “I have a special interest in environmentalism and climatology. I stayed up past curfew reading her papers when I was still in university.”

Wow. Hanzo would never have guessed it from looking at him, but Niran was a huge nerd.

“Overwatch gives me something to do with my technology, and with the resources here I can do more research without having to worry about Vishkar punching down my door. That’s happened more times than I’d like to admit…Most of them were my own fault but the science excites me so much.”

“Didn’t strike me as a person who’d be into nerds, Baptiste,” Cole said with a teasing smile.

Baptiste rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “His enthusiasm is contagious. I find myself caring far more for the environment than I did before.  Not that there’s a lack of passion for anything in overwatch, mind you.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

There was a pause, then a nervous laugh from both medics. “The first time or the second time?”

Hanzo found Niran’s question odd. “How can you meet someone twice?”

“You’d be surprised,” Baptiste said with a chuckle. “We met last year while I was in Nepal after matching on a dating app.”

“What were you both doing in Nepal?”

“Hiding,” they both said in unison, and that brought a chuckle from the whole table.

“We met once,” Niran continued. “In person, I mean. But Jean said he needed to leave the country quickly and who was I to say anything? One year later, I came to Watchpoint planning to join overwatch and imagine my surprise when I saw him in the med bay with Miss Ziegler.”

“Well, ain’t that a stroke of luck.”

“Luck, fate, coincidence, whatever it you might call it, I’m just glad that it happened.” When Baptiste said this, he had a smile on his face that could light up the whole room.

Hanzo couldn’t see because it was obscured by the table but he just knew that the two of them were holding hands. He and Cole rarely held hands with each other, and he wondered whether they should.

“What about you two?” Niran asked.

“Oh it’s not half as exciting as your story,” Cole said.

“My brother introduced us,” Hanzo said. “He tried to kill me.”

“Very glad I didn’t.”

The two of them didn’t elaborate on that and neither Niran nor Baptiste seemed to want to know the particulars of that story. Or maybe they did but knew not to pry. Either way, there was an awkward silence filled only by the soft chatter of the patrons around them and the classical music from the live band that was currently on the outdoor stage.

To his credit, Niran drank some of the water that a waiter had brought and he gulped it down to fill the silence and exclaimed. “Refreshing! There’s nothing quite like a sip of water to quench thirst, right darling?”

Hanzo was certain that the water couldn’t possibly taste that good, but he gave the scientist points for trying. Baptiste nodded and took a drink. “Ah, that certainly hits the spot.”

“And this orchestra is simply magnificent,” he said. “My mother always wanted me to play the violin, but I hated the lessons. Couldn’t sit still, you see. I much preferred the drums. Did you play any instruments Hanzo?”

Hanzo thought for a moment, wondering whether he should share his childhood memories with a man he barely knew. But then he saw the look on Cole’s face, the look he knew just couldn’t resist and he sighed and said, “I played the flute. I was in a child orchestra in middle school.”

There was a pregnant pause at this, and Hanzo willed himself not to let the soft blush of embarrassment dust his face before he heard a burst of musical laughter from Niran.

“Isn’t that just precious,” he said just said, just a bit loudly. “Oh, the things rich parents make their children go through.”

While normally Hanzo would find it uncouth that he laughed so loudly in a setting like this, he couldn’t help the bubble of amusement from rising inside of him. “I admit, I did hate it,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Especially considering Genji wasn’t forced into lessons like I was.”

“Ah, the youngest is coddled while the eldest is put through a trial by fire,” Baptiste said. “A tale as old as time.”

“One could say it’s a song as old as rhyme.”

Baptiste snorted as the waiter handed them their entrees. “No, this is not the time for you to reference those corny old Disney movies of yours.:”

“It’s always the time,” Niran said playfully. “But alright, if you want to be boring. Why, thank you.” He accepted the plate from the waiter with an almost enviable grace. It was clear that while he was…what was the word? Goofy? He certainly came from an esteemed background. But his politeness wasn’t the fake politeness that Hanzo was used to. No, it was genuine. Like he was actually grateful to be given the food.

 “By the way,” Cole enquired as he picked up his fork and knife, “how did you get reservations here? I’ve heard there’s a waiting list here that’s about a year long.”

There was a seemingly uncharacteristic silence from Niran as he looked down at his plate and twirled his own fork. “My parents had a reservation for me for what feels like ages. They wanted me to use it to smooth things over with Vishkar…I decided to do this instead.” He stopped and grinned up at them. “They’re going to be so mad when they find out.”

Though the tone of the way he said that last part was a playful one, Hanzo couldn’t help but notice the way he gripped his fork now. It seemed his relationship with his parents was a complicated one, a feeling that Hanzo related to all too well.

It was strange, how much the two of them had in common. For the rest of the evening, the conversation was pleasant with Niran leading it mostly. He had a lot to say and got really excited when Hanzo enquired about his biolight. To the point that he was standing by the rail to demonstrate and was animatedly using his hands to explain the technology with words far too big for Hanzo to comprehend, but with an energy that was almost hauntingly sirenlike. He couldn’t look away, and he immediately understood what Baptiste meant earlier about his infectious enthusiasm.

“Oh, excuse me. I’m rambling again, aren’t I?” Niran asked as the waiters brought in the check.

“No… I mean, yes but we don’t mind,” Cole reassured. “Ain’t that right, Han?”

Hanzo shook his head. “It was…enlightening.”

“Satya always said I used ten words where I could use one,” he said with a chuckle. “The night is still young, do the two of you fancy a walk?”

-0o0-

It was warm outside as it was the beginning of summer, so Hanzo held Cole’s coat as the four gentlemen walked about a park that was a few blocks away. The sound of the ocean could be heard and the wind was pleasant as it ruffled their clothes.

Niran and Baptiste had their hands delicately interwoven together as they chatted together ahead of the two of them. It was endearing to see them enjoying themselves so genuinely.

“Mr. Shimada, is that a smile I see forming on those lips?” Cole asked, and indeed there was as Hanzo didn’t realise that his lips had curled upwards. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you enjoyed yourself this evening.”

“It was a pleasant one,” he said.

One of Cole’s eyebrows tilted playfully upward. “Is that right?”

He waited expectantly and Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Fine, you were right. I had a good time.”

“And?”

 “I wouldn’t mind meeting them again.” He paused. “Niran is not what I expected. I….relate to him a lot.”

“I figured you would. Two of you are two sides of the same coin.”

[voidwritesstuff]

Long way to the truth.

Cw: mentions of ptsd,survivors guilt, trauma relating to war.

Summary: a series that details Lucas Cole's journey from Florida to Washington in search of the truth behind a goverment conspiracy.

->Fandom: in sound mind.

->Chapter one: Florida/georgia

This is,by far,not the weirdest of things hes done in his 55 Years of life. Now,packing all his stuff into his van, that was the current bane of his existence.

The whole van is crammed with Gear,his own personal stuff and a few provitions for the trip until he makes It to the Next town over.

He closes the vans back door and gets into the drivers Seat. Soon the engine comes to life with a roar, theres that familiar rumble and slight shake of the van as it slowly pulls back from the drive way.

When Lucas cole thinks his life doesnt get any weirder, fate proves Him wrong.

But theres a certain freedom in leaving his old home town, the old memories, good and bad. He watches the Homes become a lot less crowded and the fields starting to roll on each side of the road.

Its there where he finally decides to turn on the radio, up until now hes been going over his plan for this crazy journey he had planned,his eyes flickering from the map laid on the passengers Seat to the road.

A mild static fills the air as he fiddles with the radio, muttering curses under his breath the longer he struggles with it.

--C'mon y'goddamn fuckin'--He finally relents and low key decks the radio,making it finally come to life-- there we go,that wasnt so hard,was it?-- he asked to the radio.

If people didnt Belive he already lost it,that wouldve been the final nail in the coffin.

"Born on the plains

A farmer's sons and brothers the same

Raised on promises

We'd stay that way

As boys, we believed

Summers at the sea, we were free

To become men of good will

Side by side"

The radio plays as he Keeps Driving, its going to be a Loong journey to Washington. So, he gets comfy in his drivers Seat and pats the steering wheel to the rythm of the song.

"And we were soldiers then

Our bodies in the sand

And like that sand through our hands

Go our grandest plans

And just to see your face for one moment

I'd cross the ocean again

The end

Is not the end"

Lucas purses his lips,okay maybe thats a wrong song to start off his journey. But he can brave it through,he thinks.

Already, his body hurts just a little, his knees Sting and his back is killing him. He sighs and lowers the sun visor, his eyes set on the old Polaroid taped there.

The picture makes his heart wrench, he sees his younger self, a boy barely out of high school with a hopeful shine in his eyes and ready to take on the world. And beside him,theres an older Man looking down at him with a fatherly smile and a calm gaze.

"And I'll be by your side

On the other side

I'll be by your side

On the other side

And through the cloud of death

We find our way back home

And though I hold your hand

All must go alone

And when you see the face of our Maker

You don't have to be ashamed

He knows

The promises we made"

He misses him,every damn day, sometimes he wishes it was him six feet down. But he knows he has to Keep going,for alphonso,for his Friends, but its hard, hes been dragging his trauma for a solid 30 Years.

"And I'll be by your side

On the other side

I'll be by your side

On the other side"

--im gettin' there,brother-- he promised while looking at Alphonso on the picture-- 'm getting there

By sunset he reaches a small town in the border between Georgia and Alabama. He sits there Parked on the parking lot of a waffle house, a relieved sigh escapes his lips when he gets out of the van.

Lucas stretches out his sore muscles and puts on his green flannel as the wind starts to pick up a little. He grabs his bag,keys and wallet before locking up the van and making his way to the Waffle house.

The Sky above is a beautiful mix of pinks and purples,dark blue pushes from the west accompanied by the stars, the cold breeze blows past his curly black hair and he clings on to his flannel just a little tighter.

I Theres a few people there at the restaurant and he joins the line,just looking at the people pass by. He always feels so awkward in these situations, Like EVERYBODY is staring at him.

He doesnt know Wether thats the paranoia or what. But he tries his best to ignore that with the help of his walk Man, he puts on the headphones and lets his hair loose to hide his face a little.

As if the world was pulling his leg, the first song to play is "paranoid" by black sabbath, and he scowls a little and skips to the Next song (despite knowing its going to eat up the battery of cassete tapes player)

The Next song to play does satisfy him enough,he taps the cassete player to the rythm of "Knocking on heavens door" as the line gets shorter and shorter.

When his time to order comes,he pushes back one of the headphones and orders what he wants. He stutters a little and doesnt make eye contact for the life of him, but the cashier doesnt mind.

--Ah dont worry about it-- Said the cashier,handing Him his ticket-- we get all sorts of characters in here

Lucas sets his eyes on the cashier,20-30s with dark skin and honey eyes, curly hair wrapped in a yellow headwrap with a net encasing the hairbun atop her head. He smiles a little,clearing his throat-- Good to know,thanks. Ill uh- take the food to go

Soon he gets his food and goes back to his van to eat,crowded spaces made him paranoid.

Hes writing down on his diary when he sees the cashier that took his order. Shes walking past his van,his eyes flicker to the dark Sky and he decides to talk.

--Hey,need a ride?--He asked, setting the pen down on the fold of his Journal. Already feeling like a creep for even asking

The cashier looks at him with a deer in headlights look, she blinks a few times and looks at him,and his white van.

--I- I look- I know how im lookin' right now but its dark and this is kinda the middle of nowhere and its been gettin' dangerous- plus its gettin' cold

She chuckles and walks up to him-- fine,I could use a ride. Thanks

--Ill- ill finish my dinner and ill drive you home-- he replied, face a little Darker as blush sets in-- thanks for not calling the cops on me

--you dont give me kidnapper vibes-- She replied-- kidnappers dont stand there looking like a fish outta water while waiting for their order

Lucas can help but snort at the comment-- I know Im awkward as shit, im not the one to go out in public

--what about this then?--She knocks on the van.

--ah,visiting an ol' friend in Washington-- he replied,drinking from his water bottle

--You gon' drive from here to Washington?!-- she asked,eyes wide.

At this,he cant help but chuckle-- im drivin' all the way from Florida

--jesus christ Man,couldnt you get on a plane?

That wouldve been the reasonable thing to do, but then again when was the last time he was anything close to reasonable? -- imma move there too for the time being, so I gotta take me stuff with me-- he pats the dashboard fondly.

She decided to not question him anymore and just wait. Silence fills the air with the dancing static from the radio that cant pick up a signal here in the middle of semi nowhere.

He eyes fall on the dangling dogtags that hang from his neck as he writes and eats his food. Her gaze softens and she says-- you couldve used your veterans discount, its 10-25% off

Lucas takes a moment to register her words-- huh? What? -- she gestures at the dog tags and he feels flustered, he tucks them back underneath his tank top-- oh right,Well maybe Next time

--My uncle was a soldier too-- she added, warmth in her voice-- he served in world war two

--oh-- he says, scratching the back of his neck-- I uh served in Vietnam

He notices the clear widening of her eyes and he purses his lips-- thank you for your service --She says, not sure how to phrase the pity she feels-- heard things in the vietcong got hard, im so sorry

--Its been thirty somethin' years-- he doesnt know wether he says that to reassure her or to reprimand himself-- but..thanks. M-most of us get f-Forgotten by the goverment, so I 'ppreciate it

--yeah I know the feel-- Indigo agreed, leaning on the white van-- had to take it to court for them to cover my uncles medication, it Fucking sucked.

Lucas finished up his food just as she said that, he throws the wrappers and things like that in a small trashbag. --Im sorry,that musta' been pretty stressfull

--It was-- she agreed,to then ask-- you done?

He nodded and moved to face the driver's Seat.--Ill Open the passenger Door,come on in-- he closes the door on his side and leans over to Open the passenger door.

--Im uh- Indigo by the way--Indigo hops in and gets comfy on the Seat,then as she closes her door she looks behind her and says-- Radioman?

--im lucas- and Yeah,what gave it away-- he asks sarcastivally, a smirk on his lips-- couldnt be the stupid ammount of radio equipment I have back there

She laughs and it makes him flinch,when was the last time he made someone laugh like that? When was the last time he had a moment anything close to spending time with a friend?

God,it really has been thirty something years,hasnt it?

--Couldnt possibly be that of course!-- she agreed as he pulled into the road.

Indigo tells him where to go between short conversations about the military and the war. The road is pretty dark and though theres a few streetlights,he has to turn on the high beams.

--aint no way I was lettin' you walk back home when the streets look like this-- he told her, turning to where she had told him.

She giggles, nodding in agreement-- you seem like a sweet guy, Lucas. Thanks

He shrugged it off,not looking away from the road as the few lights shone on his face,the shadows cast by those lights show off his features, he was handsome in that rugged way-- s'nuthin'

--few people would actually offer up a ride to someone they dont know--she adds-- seriously,youre a really good guy

Lucas purses his lips and relents, he nodds just as he stops Infront of her house-- well,thanks. Be carefull

Indigo nodded and hopped off the van-- you too

He doesnt leave until shes inside her home,however he does get noticed by a Man around or a little more than his age,looking a lot like Indigo.

The Man salutes him after Indigo told him something, Lucas nodds and salutes him back with an endeared warmth in his chest and clear respect in his eyes. And then Lucas gets ready to retake the highway that he was previously on.

In his mind,he replays the conversation he had with Indigo about the military, and it hurts him to imagine all his fellow soldiers that got discarded Like trash by the goverment, it wasnt fair and it made his blood Boil.

"They are fucking over people, people who fought for them and their stupid fucking wars" he thinks,gripping the steering wheel,his eyes on the dark road ahead.

Above him,the stars twinkle and the moon shines. Theres a cold breeze that accompanies the passing clouds,scarce as they are, and the silence of the Rolling fields Is a little bit disturbing but also....oddly cozy.

It reminds him of his youth, going to the lake to fish or sit there and watch the world go by, the forest and general swampness that comes with Florida. And it also dawns on him that hes making his state's sterotype proud because who else would drive from Florida to Washington chasing a 30 Year old mystery frequency that was involved in a goverment conspiracy.

He can just see the headlines

"Ex army Florida Man drives for a week Straight to Washington, blows off the lid of a 30 Year old goverment conspiracy".

It makes him chuckle a little, he would pay good money to see his family's and neighborgs face if that headline ever comes to reality. He would get a good kick out of it for sure.

By 1 a.m. he pulls to the side of the road,he was in a small town but he would rather sleep in his van than stay awake one more minute.

Passing his hands across his face, he grabs his Journal and finishes writing the entry he started before Driving Indigo home

"First day of the journey. Been Driving for nine hours now, made a few stops for snacks and stretching out.

Been thinkin About what ill find in Washington, more information I suppose but the specifics are wracking my nerves.

What the hell could be hidden in there? Laboratories? Human testing? Why bring Alpha Romeo back from retirement? What changed? Was there a breakthrough?.

How Many lives were sacrificed for testing? Do any of those involved feel any remorse?.

Hell,what im going to do once I get there? What am I going to do if I get the information I need? Go to the media? The newspapers? Would they treat me like a lunatic like everyone before?.JESUS CHRIST.

On a sidenote.

It was nice to talk to indigo, been the first time in a good while since I felt like I was talking with a friend. I had fun- and it was nice to know im not alone, that fellow soldiers also lived what I lived.

But then again,how Many have seen what I did?"

He sighs and sets down the pen, to then get into his sleeping bag Nestled between his things and ontop of a few bags with softer contents. With his rifle and combat Knife nearby, he closes his eyes and hopes that at least he gets some rest.

Under his breath,as he slowly gives into slumber, he mutters-- I pray for you Alphonso,as I do every night.

That your soul May be at peaceful rest,that you watch over your brothers

Here amongst the living where you should be

If it were not for dire mistakes and unfortunate circumstances

I beg for your forgiveness and your help,friend.

Give me strength to overcome...--slowly,his mind gives into the exhaustion,a sentiment of peace settles on his chest,body relaxing and slowly falling asleep

[racingliners]

Helmet Watch 2024

*cracks knuckles* I'm back to yell about driver helmets.

Like talking about and rating all the liveries last year, I had a lot of fun doing the same for the drivers helmets, so helmet watch has returned for 2024! (Under a read more as to not clog up everyone's dashes, with the drivers listed in alphabetical order by surname.)

NB - I'm just doing the "core" helmet designs, as if the drivers come out with one-off helmets at the rate they did last year I wouldn't have any free time.

Alex Albon (Williams)

Like the 2024 Williams livery, it's an evolution of last year's design. Though with less sharp angles and using something much more bubble font-esque.

We still have the double As which is neat and I also loooooooove the baby pink and navy blue combo, especially with how much pink is on the helmet. It will really pop against the dark blue livery of the car.

8/10

Fernando Alonso (Aston Martin)

Pretty much a copy and paste from last year's helmet with a couple of minor tweaks. But in saying that I do feel that the minor adjustments make the design look a lot less busy. Like last year the colour scheme is great and it'll look great with the car, and I love the Aston Martin wings by the visor, it's one of my favourite details.

7/10

Valtteri Bottas (Sauber)

Any feelings I had about Valtteri taking forever to drop his 2024 helmet design have been immediately forgiven. I absolutely love this Northern Lights inspired design so so much. Both because of how unique a design it is but also the execution of it is just gorgeous. I love all the inclusion of the North star and all the different constellations, and that the number 77 has also been written like waves from the aurora. I would genuinely buy a mini-helmet of this I love it that much.

10/10

Pierre Gasly (Alpine)

I absolutely LOVE this one. The splashes of white and the subtle gradient shading adds so much dimension to the whole design (proof that if done right monochromatic designs can absolutely work!). I also just love the shade of pale blue as well, it's going to look really nice with both liveries Alpine are running this year.

10/10

Lewis Hamilton (Mercedes)

Misty eyes aside about this being the last core helmet design from Lewis as a Mercedes driver, I do absolutely love this. It's pretty much another copy and paste from last year, minus the rainbow band on the top. I'm glad that Lewis kept the rainbow lines otherwise the contrast between the neon yellow and purple would look quite jarring. But like last year I absolutely love it (apart from the exposed carbon at the top)

9/10

Nico Hulkenberg (Haas)

JMD Helmets really do never miss. Like his helmet from last year I love the paint splatter effect and I really like the choice to change it from orange and purple to acid green. I'm unsure on what to make of the purple and green combo as it def plays into the whole Hulk nickname, but the shades chosen do look good together.

9/10

Charles Leclerc (Ferrari)

Currently kissing Charles on his pretty little head for the addition of the dark metallic red accents. It's so pretty and adds a lot of dimension to his helmet design (while I did like his '23 helmet, it did feel a bit plain). I also really like the pattern on the base of the number 16 going round the helmet, it's been done in just the right font size and colour that again adds some more dimension instead of looking busy.

8/10

Kevin Magnussen (Haas)

This is a complete 180 from his previous helmet designs, and while I have zero idea what the inspiration is I really like it!

The bright splash of turquoise is really nice (I will always love fun colours on helmets) and it complements the parrot design really well. (Again, I don't know why Kevin has put a parrot on his helmet, but it's fun so I'm allowing it). I would never have thought to pair turquoise and marigold together, but somehow it works, and both looks really nice on the off-white base.

8/10

Lando Norris (McLaren)

I genuinely cannot fault this. I love that it's glossy, I love the neon yellow, I love the abstract black detailing. My new favourite helmet design of Lando's

10/10

Esteban Ocon (Alpine)

I am so happy to see Esteban carrying on the red and black colour scheme from last year. While I don't love this design as much as last year's (the big carbon fibre E is a tad off putting) it's still a really solid design that will not only stand out against the Alpine livery, but against the rest of the grid's helmets too.

He also gets a kiss on the head for keeping his helmet glossy instead of matte

8/10

Sergio Perez (Red Bull)

I'm unsure how I feel about Checo's helmet this year. On the one hand it does have a more cohesive colour palette than last year (and I LOVE the traditional Mexican inspired patten on the blue base), on the other it does feel a bit simple. I also wish the Red Bull logo with the white outline had been used instead, the text is a bit hard to read against the blue. But I do enjoy the splashes of yellow that do well to set his helmet apart from Verstappen's

6.5/10

Oscar Piastri (McLaren)

Another evolution of last year's design and I love the version for 2024! For me Oscar's helmet was too busy last year and I feel like it's been streamlined. My favourite part, the colour palette, has remained unchanged and like last year I just love how bright it is. I also really like the pattern on the medium blue base, it adds a really nice dimension to the overall design. However I do miss the silver holographic detailing from last year's helmet, it's a shame it didn't make the cut.

9/10

Daniel Ricciardo (Racing Bulls)

This is a colossal upgrade on last year's helmet (the tan and blue colourway was not it). And while the grey and silver colour scheme is plain, it definitely helps the flame design look a lot better than on last year's helmet and will look really good against the bright blue RB livery.

As with Gasly's helmet I also like the gradient shading, and the chrome (!!!) silver outline going around the flames.

7.5/10

George Russell (Mercedes)

I am so glad George stuck with a blue design instead of the acid green he trialled at some races last year. It's a really gorgeous shade of blue that looks stunning with the Mercedes W15 livery, and I really like the little bits of darker blue shading and the blue visor (again I don't talk much about matching visors much but I do appreciate them!!).

He also gets a bonus point for having the black parts painted instead of carbon fibre.

8/10

Carlos Sainz Jr (Ferrari)

Again another copy and paste from last year, but thankfully with less black. It looks so much brighter with just having the black on the top. I like that the design is a even more abstract than his design last year, it definitely makes it look different. And of course the red and yellow colour scheme means that it will look really good with the Ferrari livery

7/10

Logan Sargeant (Williams)

I really, really want to like this design but the American flag just completely takes me out of it. If it wasn't there this helmet would be gorgeous because imho it's not needed as the white and blue with the red accents already does a great job in showcasing Logan's home country colours.

Apart of that, the design is really nice and it will look so stunning with the car, it just has an echo of a Haas US GP livery 😭

5/10

Lance Stroll (Aston Martin)

A moment of silence for the fallen Aston Martin wings, they were very pretty 😔

Lance's helmet design for 2024 is a throwback to the design he ran in his championship winning European F3 season, but refreshed in Aston Martin colours. I did have a somewhat negative reaction upon seeing the exposed carbon but the more I look at it the more I'm on board with it. It definitely helps that it's all over glossy. Also shoutout to Lance's continued commitment to the Aston brand by having the flashes of neon lime to match the car's livery, I will always appreciate a proper commitment to the bit.

7/10

Yuki Tsunoda (Racing Bulls)

The Japanese maple leaves are baaaaaaaack!!!!!

I'm not so sure on the navy base... but then I also don't know what colour base I would switch it out for that would look good and also complement the Racing Bulls livery. But Yuki's helmet was one of my favourites last year so I'm really happy to see a version of it back for 2024.

7/10

Max Verstappen (Red Bull)

ngl I do like this a lot more than his design from last year. I love the cobalt blue (oh how I wish the RBR would be as bright as this) and I especially love the silver chrome accents, if they were a little bit thicker and more prominent I'd like them even more.

I also want to shoutout the red/orange duo-chrome visor, I never talk about them enough but I love it when the colour of the visors complement the rest of the helmet design (in this case the red and yellow in the Red Bull logo)

8/10

Zhou Guanyu (Sauber)

No notes. And dare I say, best helmet on the grid. I just love the pairing of all over black with the hints of the porcelain pattern and silver holographic accents. It's sexy as hell.

10/10

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = There were some parts of this I was like, hoo! 🥵. Hope you guys enjoy. This took me for-frickin-ever to fine-tune.

C/W = P -> V. Brief masturbation. Sweet names, y/n / reader called "Mama" once or twice. An overly dramatic origami reference. Enjoy!

ღ Sweet Dreams ღ

● It was after 2:30 in the morning when Geto got off work. Being a tow truck driver, though, odd hours come with the territory.

● He was hoping you'd still be awake when he got back to the loft. You were, but tonight, you didn't want him to know that.

● As you heard the deep rumble of his motorcycle, you positioned yourself so you were facing away from the door, and the first thing he'd see was your barely covered backside.

● It was cold in the loft in the winter, so he installed a heating system that made it feel like the desert mid-hot season. You had a couple of windows cracked so you could hear the rain slapping the asphalt. And so you wouldn't suffocate. When Geto did something, he didn't do it half-assed.

● You heard him park his bike in the garage and open the door to the lower-level entryway. He hung his helmet and started up the stairs. He always meant to miss the creaky one, but 9 times out of 10, he would step on it. "God – goddamnit. I need to fix that." He complained. But you were always able to count the steps as he ascended, knowing after the creaky spot, there were 11 more to go until the landing and the large metal sliding door.

● He slid the door open as softly and quietly as he could manage. The building was over 150 years old, though. Some things would just never be the same. But you loved this place. And what Geto's baby wants, his baby gets.

● He walked in to find you lying on top of the bed in your designated 'bedroom space.' He was surprised he didn't wake you. You were usually a light sleeper. But he chalked it up to you getting used to his late-night noises. He kicked his boots off and made his way to the bed. His bare toes padded across the hardwood floor to see you. And despite looking the part of a dreamer, you were very much awake.

● The billboard across the street cast the space in a red glow. Your skin looked pink to him, and it made him want to taste you.

● The mere availability of your body was making the growing bulge in his pants a noticeable nuisance. He would have to do something about it. Or wake you and have you do something about it.

● He unzipped the top half of his coveralls and pulled them down to rest just below his waistline. He took off his grease-stained undershirt and tossed it in the dirty clothes basket.

● You shuffled slightly, moving onto your back. You positioned one leg bent and the other outstretched.

● Geto stood in just his coveralls, half hanging off of him. Then he took a step towards you.

● "Baby ... I'm home. Are ... you awake? Babe?"

● He started rubbing your foot. You were always such a sucker for a foot massage.

● It was so hard not to giggle when he hit your ticklish spots. But you knew it would be in your interest to persevere. What came after would be well worth the mild suffering.

● Your breathing changed a little and he thought you might be coming around.

● "Y/n? Baby?" He grunted in frustration. All he wanted was you. He thought about you all day at work. The picture of you he kept on the visor is what kept him going tonight til quitting time.

● It was an arduous day: He had to tow 2 semis to the city over from where he worked. It was cold and rainy. He didn't want to be out in that shit. Rain was better when you were inside looking out.

● He needed to be home with you. Cuddled up. Kissing. Sucking. Fondling. Fucking.

● He slid his hands up underneath your legs, massaging the muscles.

● His cock was strained so tightly against his clothing. He felt like a noose was wrapped around his neck.

● Geto stood up and pulled his coveralls the rest of the way off. Leaving just his black briefs on.

● "It makes you look so mysterious. Dangerous, even." You'd say, laughing as he pretended to attack you. Biting at your neck and breasts.

● He went back to your bare legs, continuing to massage the warm limbs.

● "Fuck, baby. Please wake up for me. I wan'cha."

● You took a deep breath. Stretching your arms over your head, exposing the rounded bottoms of your breasts as his cut-off tank top rode up your belly.

● "Oh, hey, baby." You looked at the twitching bulge in his underwear and smiled.

● "When did ya get home?" Knowing full well the moment he walked into the large space.

● Geto climbed on top of you, laying between your legs.

● He looked down at the wet spot in your pink panties and smiled through kissing you.

● "Havin' a good dream, baby?" He laughed.

● You pulled all of his weight down onto you. He felt so good, resting on you. Smashing your small body into the too-soft mattress.

● "Jus' dreamin' 'bout you, hot stuff."

● He laughed at your dumb term of endearment and pressed his covered cock into you.

● You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to your face. You didn't kiss him, but the two of you looked at each other as his hips rolled slowly into your frustratingly inaccessible cunt.

● "Hold on." Geto said. He reached up and pulled your arms down, one at a time, and plastered kisses from your neck down to your belly.

● Taking your panties into his teeth, he snapped the elastic against your tender skin.

● "Ow! What –" He started kissing and licking at the pinkened flesh. "What the ffffuck, God, Suguru ... that – hmmm" You hummed. Letting the slight assault slide because he was making it all better.

● You laid back on your elbows to watch him kiss your inner thighs. Hair had come out of the messy bun it was in and pooled around his beautiful face. So you brushed it aside. And he looked into your eyes as he licked a light trail to your pussy.

● "D'ya forgive me now, Mama?" He pulled your weaponized panties the rest of the way down off of your hips, knees, and feet, throwing them onto the floor.

● "Oh shit," you said as you fell back onto the pile of pillows as he gave your clit tiny but firm licks.

● He lifted his head for a moment. "Well, would ya look at that. You're so wet for me already. So wet for this ..."

● He slipped 2 fingers inside of you and curled them up. Rubbing that one spot that drives you deeper into his clutches.

● You raised your hips a little to meet his hand and mouth.

● "Mm-mm, let me."

● Relaxing your body back into the bed, he began the painfully slow push/pull of his fingers. You could feel your hot walls closing down on him with each sweep of his fingers.

● "Su–, fas–faster, please, baby." You begged, but he wanted this to last.

● Pulling his fingers out of you, he stuck them in his mouth and sucked your juices off of them. He climbed on top of you and began kissing your chest.

● "Ah – Su, my tits are sensitive. Be careful." He made a fake pouty face at your plea and kissed where he'd been too rough with his teeth.

● "Better?" He asked in a slightly patronizing tone. He sucked on your nipples slowly. The one that wasn't in his mouth was in his large, grease-stained hand.

● He inched up to meet your gaze. His briefs are getting completely wet from pressing into you.

● "So fuckin' hard. Why don't ya take those off, mm. Do us both a favor." You asked, hoping he wouldn't pick on your excitement about the possibility.

● "You think you're ready, huh? Hell. Who 'm I to deny my girl."

● "I am! C'mon." You've recited these words so many times. Convincing him that you're ready. It was like a game to you two now. "But stand up, I wanna see you pull them down." Your eyes were slits, "Slowly." You have a dark glint in your eye. He liked it.

● Geto stood up and took a couple of steps back from the bed and rubbed his cock over his briefs.

● He never broke eye contact with you.

● Staring at him, practically drooling, you got up on your knees on the bed and waved him over to you. "Fuck, Suguru."

● He deliberately lowered one side of the waistband. Showing off his chiseled hip.

● After he had sufficiently memorized your eyes begging him to fuck you, he took 2 steps and he stood in front of you. His cock hung heavily between you both.

● "Suguru ..."

● Your lips pressed together. Tongues danced in and out of the other's mouth. Soft moans and harsh breathing filled the air.

● Geto lowered you back on the bed and began stroking his cock. "Touch your pretty li'l pussy for me."

● He stayed on his knees between your open legs, devotedly pumping himself in and out of his rough hand.

● "Shit, I love watching you do that. Do it faster, harder." You told him as you rubbed tight circles on your clit with one hand, pinching your nipple with the other.

● "Enough. Fuck. C'mere." You said flatly.

● He seemed to snap out of a trance when you spoke. "Mmhm."

● He eased himself down and rested his hips against yours. The heat leaking from his body was making your heart rate erratic.

● Geto lowered his hand and rubbed his fat tip against your soft, wet opening. Your hips instinctively push up.

● He gave all of himself to you in a split second. He filled every bit of your fluttering walls. "Oh, f-fuck, baby. You're so –hngh shit!" He put his head on your shoulder as he moved ever so slightly.

●You held his ass cheeks in your hands, trying to get him to go deeper.

● Geto pulled back until only his cock head remained inside of you. You had begun to shiver – just the way he liked you – and your legs scrambled on the sheets to ground your feet. You're trying to raise your hips even more.

● "Nope. You're gonna have to wait for me this time. But we'll get you there, baby. We'll both get there." He said as he rocked slowly into you.

● He was doing his best to go slow, but the way your pussy was wrapped around him. The way it was milking him. It was causing him to be drawn into a frenzy of want.

● He kissed your neck and took a deep breath, sighing heavily to release the air.

● He pulled his head back slowly and he looked down at your face, watching your eyes close at the sensation of him filling you up.

● "How's this, Mama?" You didn't answer with words. Your eyebrows furrowed deeply and your pretty mouth sat frozen in an 'O'. Your eyes looked like you were trying to solve the most complex equation. He could tell you were in this deep. Just the motion of your hips was an affirmation.

● He rocked his body forward and he began fucking you a little faster. He can feel his resistance waning.

● "L'ways so tight for me. I can't get enough of you – of your pussy. I love the way she holds me. The way you squeeze me. It's all for me. Say my name." He said. His breathing was growing more shallow.

● "Y/n, fuck – look at me." His eyes are looking directly into yours as he continues to move his hips back and forth. "Say it!"

● "Su – ah ... god –" you squeaked. "Fuck! S-Suguru ..." Your voice cracks and he smiles, showing how he brightens up behind his otherwise dark features. "You feel so good. I want you – mm!"

● He leaned in to kiss you as he began to fuck you harder. You moaned into his mouth feeling how warm and soft his lips were. He tasted like cigarettes. A smell you've come to appreciate on him in its sick way.

● Geto picked up his speed, trying to reach that point of no return. "Oh, sweetheart ... so good ... Jesus fu–, fuck baby ..." He moved his right hand from holding your face and wrapped them both under and around your shoulders. Your arms are locked around his neck, fingers intertwined in his hair.

● "Oh my god, Suguru. Cu– cum in me, Su–!" He grunted in your ear as he felt his body release everything it had pent up for you. The way your cunt was sucking him in. "So fucking – tight." He bit down on your shoulder.

● His body convulsed and the feeling of his hot cum inside of you is enough to have you fold in on yourself like smashed origami.

● Your orgasm rolled out in waves, you could feel the electric pulsing inside of your cunt. "Oooh goddd." You both sighed as he let his upper body fall on top of you.

● "Ohh, baby. We gotta do that again ... fuck. I'm sorry for waking you up ... I don't even know where I got all that energy. I just had to have you tonight." He breathed, kissing your neck.

● "Have me any night, my Sugu baby." You said, scratching your fingers through the fine hairs at the base of his neck.

● He stayed on top of you, sweetly kissing you you. And you The two of you laid like that until you fell asleep.

Thank you for reading!

ଓ Sarah ઇ

[overwatch-archive]

Bastet

A Short Story: Michael Chu Illustrations: Arnold Tsang Additional Artwork: Bengal Design and Layout: Benjamin Scanlon

After days of lying in wait, Ana's target had appeared in one of Cairo's opulent, ancient palaces. Abdul Hakim was a king in his own right, one who was using his power and influence to squeeze the life from the city, making himself and his followers rich in the process. But before she had her chance to capture him, the first ghost appeared: Jack Morrison. Though he was masked and had assumed the identity of a vigilante—Soldier: 76—she recognized him immediately.

The world believed that Morrison was dead, killed in the destruction of the Overwatch base in Switzerland, but Ana had her doubts. Though Jack had escaped death, a specter followed behind him… the Reaper. A killer clad all in black, his face hidden behind a bone white mask.

Reaper had confronted Jack, and Ana had leapt to his aid. She had subdued Reaper, wrestling him to the ground. But when she had stripped off the ghoulish mask and seen the ruin of a face beneath, she recognized Gabriel Reyes, a friend and comrade she’d known just as long as Jack. Gabriel proved to be the real phantom as he’d faded into thin air, disappearing like a whisper.

She was left with the revelation that Gabriel and Jack, two men like brothers to her, were not dead.

In fairness, they thought I was, too.

She took a deep breath and surveyed the scene. Bullet marks patterned the walls, tiles on the floor were cracked, and the bodies of the manor’s security guards—muscle for Hakim’s illegal enterprise—were splayed about like children's toys. At the heart of the courtyard, Jack stood impassively.

"I got them all," Jack said as he rifled through one of the fallen mercenary's belongings.

A guard on the ground between them groaned, and in a flash, Ana drew her sidearm and fired a sleep dart into his neck.

"You missed one," Ana said.

Jack gave one of his good guy shrugs. "It’s nice to see you, too, Ana."

Ana engaged the targeting visor from underneath her cowl. The heads-up display failed to activate. She flipped it back up, annoyed. "Any idea where he went?"

Jack activated his visor and scanned the area. "Not a trace."

Something to worry about later.

"That doesn’t look good," Ana said. Jack had been shot right beneath the giant numerals "76" on his jacket. As she took a closer look, she could see that the jacket and his flesh had been ripped apart by a shotgun blast. From that range, it should have killed him, but Jack had certain advantages. His wounds could heal themselves—a legacy of his past as a test subject and an enhanced soldier in the American armed forces. She could already see the pink of new skin forming at the edges, but not completely. Where it looked the worst, his flesh had turned necrotic and black.

"I'll be fine," Jack grunted. "It just takes us some time."

Us, Ana thought. Jack was adapting quickly to the knowledge that his former best friend was still alive.

Or did he already know?

The faintest sound of approaching sirens interrupted her. "We should get going. Sounds like someone’s noticed."

Jack nodded. "Lead the way."

An hour later, Ana and Jack crouched in the shadows, watching as hover taxis zoomed by and a pair of civilians riding robotic camels made their way down the street. Overhead, skiffs and surveillance drones crisscrossed the sky, the former carrying the well-to-do of the city to their afternoon appointments, the latter mobilized by the shootout in Hakim's palace.

Ana navigated the narrow alleys, finding the routes through the labyrinthine tangle of streets and pathways, keeping an eye out for the patrols that circled like hawks. For once in her life, she was grateful for the city’s patchwork infrastructure, still recovering a decade after Overwatch's intervention. The state of Ana's home country was one of the reasons she had been drawn back to it. She felt responsible for Overwatch's legacy here, whether it had been her choice or not.

In the shade of one of the massive, derelict cooling towers, the heat from the oppressive afternoon sun was a little more tolerable. It didn't bother Ana, but Jack seemed to be laboring. His genetic enhancements should have helped him acclimatize to different conditions, the same way they should have stopped the blood that was seeping through the shirt he'd tied across his midsection as a bandage.

"You need to take better care of yourself," Ana chided him.

"You sound like Angela," Jack grunted.

Ana waited for a police car to speed by, lights flashing, and then she signaled him forward.

"Think they’re looking for us?" Jack wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Most likely," Ana said, squinting at the car's retreating form. "But there's a lot of crime here. The police are busy."

Another part of our legacy.

Jack had fallen behind a few paces, leaning against one of the walls. "Reminds me of Prague."

"I’m not carrying you this time," Ana said. "Come on, Jack. Keep up." She dashed out of the shadows and across the street, feeling the full blast of sun above and the heat baked into the stones beneath her.

Back in the shadows, she continued. "Prague was your fault. Why you ever thought Reinhardt could be stealthy is beyond me."

Ana waited for Jack to defend himself. When he didn’t reply, she turned around. He had collapsed on the paving stones, out in the open.

Not now, Ana thought as she ran back to him. She tried to pull him up. "Wake up, Jack." But he gave no response. Ana slung Jack’s arm over her shoulder and lifted him, carrying him down the alley.

Jack drifted awake. That wasn't normal. Even before the army, he'd always been a light sleeper, starting awake at the slightest disturbance. His eyes adjusted rapidly to the dim light of the room as he sat up. He was on an old military surplus cot with a threadbare blanket. His side ached like hell.

"Finally," Ana walked over, silent as a stalking cat. "Tea?"

"I'll take whiskey if you have it."

Ana rolled her eyes. "Yes, Jack, I happen to keep a bottle around just in case you show up."

"Tea's fine," Jack said in a smaller voice.

Ana stretched her shoulders. "You know, I had to carry you all the way here."

"I've been shot plenty of times. It's never felt like this." Jack grimaced as he shifted, twisting around to get a better look at the wound. Three large gashes crisscrossed his back and sides, but they'd been stitched together with dark thread.

"There's something very wrong with that wound. We should probably take you to a doctor." Ana moved to a low table with an induction burner and placed an ornate gold kettle on one of its two heating pads.

"I don't think a doctor's going to know how to deal with this." Jack looked grim.

"Dr. Ziegler's not too far away," Ana suggested. "But I’m not carrying you."

"No doctors," Jack said. "And especially not Angela." How would we even begin to explain this to her? I doubt she'd want to see us now. Two lost ghosts.

"I tried stitching you up myself," Ana said apologetically. "I never was much good with field dressing. Didn't need it very often."

He ran his finger over the jagged stitches. “Looks like a butcher went at it.”

"Well, you can take care of yourself from now on, if you like."

"It's a little hard to reach," Jack said sheepishly.

"Then don't complain.” Ana paused. "And shouldn't that be healing itself?"

Jack nodded. "It should be. Maybe the shells were laced with a biological agent?"

"You're sure you don't want to see Dr. Ziegler?"

"We'd have to explain to her that we're not dead," Jack said.

"She's the miracle worker. She's probably used to it by now," Ana laughed.

"No Angela," Jack said, and that was that.

He looked around at Ana's home, as it were. It was a mix of tactical equipment, military surplus, surveillance devices, and some light touches of domesticity. The space was more archaeological site than apartment, ancient stone chambers with worn stone columns, and the walls had been carved with hieroglyphics, though some looked like the work of more modern vandals. On a low table, Ana had set up a little display of ancient objects that had been carefully preserved: a jar with a ram's head lid made of pale, milky stone, a black and gold mask bearing the visage of a fierce cat goddess, a chipped vase of brown-red clay, and a small, brilliant green figurine of a falcon.

Jack took a closer look at the antiquities. "This place reminds me of a museum my mother took me to in New York when I was a kid." It had been one of his favorite parts of the trip, running around the transplanted ruins of an ancient Egyptian temple. He smiled at the memory.

Ana offered him a blue mug with a red plaid pattern. "It's a necropolis—a city of the dead."

"Appropriate," Jack chuckled. He motioned towards the small display. "What are these?"

"I found them when I moved in. I couldn't very well throw them away. These relics have survived thousands of years. Empires rose and fell, and they're still here. I figured I should take care of them before I sent them to Dr. Faisal."

Jack blew gently on his tea to cool it. "You've been here the whole time?"

"Ever since I left the hospital in Poland." Ana watched as Jack sipped his tea.

He made a face at the bitterness. "Any sugar?"

Ana ignored him. "When I woke up, I didn't remember who I was. I had no name to give them, so they called me, 'Janina Kowalski,' your Jane Doe. For months, I sat in that hospital room in pain and confusion. Dr. Lee told me I was lucky. Well, as lucky as you can be after having glass and shrapnel embedded in your skull." Ana felt the phantom pain of her eye even as she recounted the experience.

"We tried to find you," Jack said somberly. "I used every resource at my disposal. Gabe even put McCree on it personally. Not a trace. Everyone else tried to convince me you were gone and that I was being irrational. But deep down I knew that you couldn't be dead."

And I was right, Jack thought.

"Dr. Lee kept me out of the system. I convinced her some dangerous people were after me."

"I'm dangerous?" he asked, playing innocent.

"You're a kitten, Jack," Ana laughed. "Eventually, I was able to piece together what happened, but I don't know how much of it is real and how much I've filled in the blanks myself. I remembered the mission. We were pinned down by the enemy sniper, and I was trying to flush them out. I remembered lining up the shot. But it was almost like there was a reason why I didn't want to remember what happened next."

Jack looked down into his teacup.

"It was because I recognized that sniper," Ana said, studying him carefully. "You already know this."

"Amélie?" Jack said. "Yes." He had learned that and more over the years, but he left it unspoken.

"Poor Gérard," Ana sighed.

The pair sat in silence for a while as the steam drifted lazily from their cups and dissipated into the dusty haze of the ancient room.

"Why are you here, Jack?" Ana asked at last.

"I never forgave myself for leaving you behind. I heard about a bounty hunter in Cairo, and I hoped…" Jack set the mug down.

"You never were good at letting go," Ana chided him. "Too stubborn for your own good."

"Gabriel is out there. Talon is getting more powerful. They need to be stopped, and everything that we've suffered—everything that you've suffered—needs to be made good on. I’m going to take them apart, piece by piece." Jack's impassioned words echoed off the stone walls, and he had clenched his fists. He slowly released them. "But I can't do it alone. I need your help."

Ana crossed her arms. "You can barely stand. You fainted in the street. The only thing you need to do is recover."

"Don't let this go. Don't be like the others. They dismantled everything we spent our lives building, and then they made us into villains."

"We're not all like you, Jack," Ana said. "Some of us can move forward."

"This is moving forward," Jack growled.

"You're excited," Ana said. "You're not thinking straight. Get some more rest. We can talk after."

"After?" Jack's eyes flashed to his mug and then looked back at Ana. "Did you—?"

He collapsed on the cot.

Ana waited until Jack was deeply asleep before she lifted his legs onto the bed, tucked a pillow beneath his head, and pulled the scratchy blanket over him. He had scars she didn't recognize, and his hair had thinned and faded to a silvery white. While he slept, Soldier: 76 slipped away, and she could feel the presence of the Jack she remembered.

She picked up the empty mug and left him to rest.

Later, Ana returned to the darkened complex, her supplies in a canvas sack she carried over her shoulder. With the lights off, the place felt more like a tomb than ever. She walked through the entry corridor and into the main chamber to find, of all things, Jack, shirtless, doing one-handed pushups through gritted teeth. He'd discarded his bandages in a small pile on his cot. Ana could see the angry red and black of the wounded flesh, bound together by her inexpert stitching.

"You're going to tear those stitches out," Ana remarked.

"I was feeling a little restless," Jack explained.

"You did sleep for two days," Ana said. Hungry?

"I'd kill for a burger."

Ana gave him a look of disbelief.

"But I'm not picky," Jack flashed her that smile he used to try to get himself out of trouble. He really was like a child sometimes.

Ana pulled paper containers of food out of her sack and placed them on the low table in front of him. The rich smells drifted through the air. There was falafel and beans, and pockets of freshly baked bread stuffed with steaming minced lamb meat and onions. "It's not my cooking, at least."

"Thank god for small miracles," Jack chuckled.

In spite of herself, Ana laughed as well.

Jack attacked the food like someone accustomed to having to wolf down meals quickly. Ana helped herself to a little, but mostly they ate in silence. When they'd finished, Jack leaned back on the crate he was sitting on and settled back into his questioning.

"Why didn't you tell me you were alive?" Jack asked.

"I don't know if you'll understand," Ana said. "Gabriel would, but you're different in some ways."

Jack's expression was unreadable. "And Fareeha? You let her think you were dead."

"That was the hardest part." Ana sighed. She stood up and walked over to her desk, where there was a small framed photo Ana with her young daughter on her back. Their arms were both spread wide as though they were flying. "Fareeha would have expected Captain Amari to return, but she was gone. The moment I hesitated, I changed."

"You can't blame yourself," Jack said softly. "How could you have known?"

"Don't patronize me, Jack," Ana snapped. "Of course, it was my fault. It doesn't have to haunt me for the rest of my life, but I can accept the blame."

"It wouldn't have made a difference to us. We would have wanted you back. It turns out we couldn't do it without you," Jack said, touching her shoulder gently. "Overwatch needed you. And now I need you."

Ana read the desperation on Jack's face. "Getting revenge for what happened won't accomplish anything other than getting you killed."

"Maybe, but I still have to fight. Everyone else gave up, but not me."

He blames me, too. Ana realized. "Stubborn."

"You couldn't give up the fight either," Jack said. "Why else were you at Hakim's palace?"

"I tried to live quietly, you know. I would be near my daughter and be at peace. But the longer I lived here, the harder it was for me to escape the fact that we are responsible for what happened to this city. We shut down the Anubis project, and Egypt has never recovered." Ana stood up, turning her back to Jack. "People's lives are hard. They're being taken advantage of by parasites like Hakim. How could I let it go on when I knew there was something I could do?"

"You're fighting for justice, just like me," Jack said.

Ana's eyes narrowed. "Revenge isn't justice."

Jack threw his hands up. "We're after the same thing. Why do you think Hakim was meeting with Gabriel? He's working for Talon. The rot on this city is going to spread, and it will ruin the world just like it always does."

"Hakim runs a criminal organization that has strangled Cairo. The police and the government either turned a blind eye or they're being paid off by him. Food supplies aren't being distributed to people who need them. Medical care is almost impossible to get," Ana said. "Look me in the eye and tell me you can leave without doing anything."

"Cairo and the world will suffer until we bring them all down! You have to see the bigger picture," Jack said heatedly.

"Are you even hearing yourself? You would never have made this argument before," Ana said disapprovingly. "The way we do things matters."

"Times change," Jack said with finality. "Either you're coming with me, or I'm leaving. I've already wasted too much time."

“I’m not going,” Ana said.

For a long moment, Jack stared at her in silence. "A sniper takes the most dangerous threat out first. That was your job." Jack picked up his ruined coat. "If you want to waste your time on petty criminals, so be it. I have a war to fight."

He stormed out.

After Jack left, Ana switched on her computer. Jack had been using it earlier, and the screen was cluttered with articles about Reaper’s movements and appearances. Ana wondered who had been supplying Jack with some of this information, but that was a puzzle for another time. She browsed through the reports and remembered the ruined face she had seen behind the mask.

Gabriel… what happened to you?

One of the articles indicated that casualties in one of Reaper's attacks had suffered the same sort of wounds as Jack.

That damned scientist, Ana thought with disgust.

The other information offered little new insight on the Reaper, providing only a view into Jack's mind. He was following a spiderweb of corporations, government officials, and financial institutions, all hopelessly tangled together through corrupt arteries and shady intermediaries. It was the sort of problem that was never Jack's strong suit. He preferred two sides, concrete facts, and one clear, unequivocal decision.

The messy stuff was always Gabriel's arena.

Not as much as it used to be.

Ana considered her options. In her heart, she knew she wanted to stay. Egypt was failing. In a few more years, it was likely that it would fall into chaos, torn apart by profiteers and criminals like Hakim. As the bounty hunter Shrike, she had slowly been making a difference, little by little. If she left, all her work would be undone.

But there are other people here, like Fareeha. They're not helpless. It doesn't have to be you.

That pride again.

She looked back at articles about the vigilante Soldier: 76. One caught her attention: a break-in at LumériCo's newest fusion plant. There’d been a gunfight in the middle of the market—a number of serious injuries and property damage—all of it attributed to him. But there was also eyewitness testimony from a local girl in Dorado. Even though everyone else thought he was someone to fear, she'd called him a hero.

It doesn't have to be you, but sometimes, people need something to believe in.

Ana knew what she needed to do. She walked over to the makeshift shelf that held the treasures she'd found in the necropolis when she'd first arrived. She looked at the feline face on the ancient mask. It was the goddess Bastet.

A guardian.

Jack walked through the sleeping city. The cool night air was a pleasant break from the heat of the day. Given the late hour, the streets were quiet, even though he had wandered into the city center. The stalls selling food, scavenged omnic parts, or fabrics and textiles had all long since shut down. Curfews weren't imposed, but the city's residents were advised to stay indoors after sundown for their own protection. After coming face to face with Reaper, the dark was a pool of shadows that hid the unknown.

Jack had been on the hunt for some time now, gathering information, and tracking what leads he had. He'd had the benefit of being unnoticed, but things had changed. There was no doubt that Talon and its allies knew he was coming for them. He had gotten one good night's sleep since he arrived in Cairo, and it was the first in as long as he could remember.

I can't believe she drugged me, Jack thought.

He was uneasy now. Staying in one place for too long was risky, especially now that Gabe would be looking for him. He had to move on.

Night had crept towards morning and a full moon was hanging lower in the sky when Jack finally returned. Ana was sitting at the computer as he entered.

"Come back for the rest of your things?" she asked without looking up.

He walked over to her, "I'll help you capture Hakim. Once that's done, we go after Reaper."

"We have to make sure the city is secure," Ana corrected him. "I'll only leave with you after things here are settled. That means not just Hakim, but his followers, too. I need to know that the people will be safe."

Jack's jaw clenched as he considered the offer. "Then let's go over to his manor and round him and his men up. One quick strike before they have time to prepare."

Ana shook her head. "No rushing in. Remember how it went last time?"

"It would have been fine if Gabe hadn't showed up," Jack said.

Ana arched an eyebrow.

Jack sighed. "What's the plan then?"

"We start at the bottom and work our way up. Close the net around Hakim, starve him of his resources, and force him out into the open. We have to expose him and the people that are protecting him. Understood?"

Jack sighed, relenting. "You know, I told Gabe they picked the wrong person for Strike-Commander."

"Yes, but you meant him, not me," Ana replied.

"It could have been Reinhardt," Jack smirked.

"Let's not be crazy now."

Ever since the fight at his palace, Hakim had been reticent to return, instead moving between his safehouses in the city. Jack had been able to track down a number of them and found the one that was most conducive to their plans. He rented an apartment that overlooked it. Ana and Jack hadn't bothered with niceties: the room was furnished only with a couple beaten-up wooden chairs and a wooden crate. They took turns with one sleeping bag. After the second day, Ana had insisted on bringing a hot plate so she could make tea.

Within a week, they'd rounded up a number of Hakim's associates, whittling away at his organization. Word spread about someone targeting Hakim's organization. Whoever it was, people agreed, they meant to bring Hakim to justice. But after the initial burst, things had slowed down. Hakim went further underground. He was being more careful. There was nothing to do but wait.

The boredom wasn't so bad for Ana. As a sniper, she had more than her share of patience, and having the freedom to move around, take naps, and even go outside, made it more than tolerable. Jack was restless, though. She saw the way he looked out the window, searching the horizon endlessly, and Ana knew his gaze was fixed on one thing.

Gabriel.

"Anything?" Jack asked, glancing up. He leaned back in his chair in a way that would make a school teacher worried. There was something in his hand.

"No sign of Hakim. What are you looking at?" Ana asked.

"Oh, just reminiscing about the old days." Jack passed over the small stack of photos. They were well-worn, creased in places, and had obviously been Jack's companions for a long time.

The top photo was a picture of them with Gabriel, all three looking young and optimistic, though Gabriel already showed signs of the stress of leadership weighing upon him. They'd just won a major battle in Rio de Janeiro. "I remember the beach," Ana smiled. "We look so serious in this picture—it's funny!"

"That's why it's a great photo!" laughed Jack.

It’s good to know he can still laugh.

She turned to the next one and almost dropped the photos in surprise. She'd never seen the photo, but she recognized it immediately. Jack looked so much younger. He had just stepped off a military transport for leave. It was the other person in the picture that surprised her—a dark-haired man, dressed in a casual, black button up shirt. Jack's arm was around his shoulder.

Vincent.

"Vincent… I haven't thought about him in years," Ana said. "Still keeping a candle lit for him?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothing like that."

"You've never looked in on him? You must have been curious. All the surveillance power in the world. I bet Gabe would have put a Blackwatch agent on him if you asked," Ana said.

Jack glared at her.

"Okay, touchy subject."

Jack laughed. "He got married. They're very happy. I'm happy for him."

Ana was unconvinced. In the early days, Jack talked about him often, floating a dream that the war would end quickly, and maybe he'd have a chance to return to a normal life.

But a normal life was never the reward for people like us.

"Vincent deserved a happier life than the one I could give him." Jack sighed. "We both knew that I could never put anything above my duty. Everything I fought for was to protect people like him… That's the sacrifice I made."

"Relationships don't work out so well for us, do they?" Ana said, unconsciously running her thumb over where her wedding ring used to be.

"At least you and Gabe managed to have families."

The pair lapsed back into silence.

Ana glanced out the window to see the familiar figure of Hakim entering the apartment block. "It's him." Ana passed the photos back to Jack, who carefully slid them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Ready?" Jack asked as he put his mask and targeting visor on, picking up the heavy pulse rifle where he had propped it against the wall.

Ana took her own rifle, quite a bit more manageable than Jack's, and slung it over her shoulder. She clipped a few flashbangs to her belt and then retrieved the last item from her pack: the black and gold mask.

"You're bringing that?" Jack asked.

"You inspired me, Jack. Soldier: 76 is more than a vigilante. The world knows that name. Your enemies are afraid you'll find them. I don't want Hakim, Talon, or anyone else to plunge Cairo back into chaos the second I'm gone. I'm putting on a new mask. Not a hunter this time, a protector. The kind of persona that I could leave behind to keep the people safe… Bastet."

"I just thought my mask was scary." Jack smiled.

"Bastet is scarier than an old lady."

"Ana, there's nothing scarier than an old lady," Jack said.

"You would know."

One week later, Ana and Jack were packing up the necropolis base. They'd leave much of Ana's belongings behind, taking only what they needed for the journey ahead. Hakim and his network of criminals had been dismantled. The news had started to report about the movements of a guardian named Bastet who had captured Hakim and exposed the extent of his crimes. Even the government was forced to act.

"What about these?" Jack pointed at the shelf that had the Egyptian artifacts on it.

"I could barely manage carrying you, and you want me to bring all this?" Ana said. "It's well-hidden. It will just wait here until I can find a proper caretaker."

"Fareeha?" Jack guessed. "You talked to her?"

"I… left her a message," Ana said.

"You're sure you can leave things like this? It could be a long time before you see her again."

If ever.

Ana sighed. "She never responded to my first letter."

Jack winced. "She'll come around in time. She loves you. Did you tell Sam anything?"

"I will, eventually. Maybe," Ana said. "I made a big enough mess of his life without having to give him the news. None of us are very good at saying goodbye, are we?"

"We're better than Reinhardt, anyway. I'm pretty sure his life is just one long attempt to avoid saying a goodbye."

"How is he?" Ana asked.

"That's a long story," Jack said. "But I suppose we'll have time."

Ana nodded. "There's something I want to be clear about before we leave, Jack," Ana said. "I'm going with you, but I'm not convinced that this is a good idea at all. Talon, Overwatch, Gabriel… I already let go of them. It hurt." She paused. "When I first came to the necropolis, most of the artifacts I found were ruined. I saved what I could, but I had to leave the rest. That's what's most important, Commander."

"Don't call me, that," Jack groused. "And come on. We need to pay a visit to some old friends."

They left the necropolis, sealing the entrance behind them. Long after they'd left, the relics of ancient civilizations laid in wait in the darkness of that dusty room. At the center of them all was a golden mask bearing the face of a goddess. Just as it remained in the hearts of the people of Cairo, and the fears of those who would harm them: a mask and a name.