#i really need to lay off the deactivate button

[silentgrim]

and if i did a casual gameplay w cassandra

[messedupfan]

I'm With You (Y/N Stark) Chapter 7

Summary: Y/n Stark is rescued by the Avengers. Wanda and Pietro decide to join them.

A/N: Seriously don't know where I'm going with this series lol

Masterlist | Taglist | All Chapters

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“What is that?” Steve asks over comms as the area suddenly quiets down and his bike throws him with an abrupt stop. When they arrived, Hydra was sending out their soldiers in droves. Now, halfway through the woods and closing in on the base, every advanced weapon dropped and so did the men. So far, the only enhanced personal they knew about was someone that was exceptionally fast. Clint only saw him for a moment but everyone else had yet to see him. It gave the team hope that this was finally the base they had been looking for. However, they were slightly concerned about how many more people were harnessing abilities and what those abilities were. Especially after watching the men drop. “Guys, what do you see? Hello? Can anyone read me?” Steve tries again but there is no response. Not even the soft static sound that let him know the device was on.

He pulls it out of his ear to find the device was deactivated and he quickly scans the area for his fellow teammates. Thor startles him by landing with a boom beside him. “The ear thingy stopped working,” the demigod says in apology. “Do we find the others or keep moving forward?” The Captain is unsure what to do until he watches something burst out from the roof of one of the buildings.

“Move forward. They might be running towards that anyway,” he points to the glowing figure in the sky. Thor nods and swings his hammer in the air so that it would carry him as Steve unfortunately had to get there on foot. He tried to steal one of the motorbikes but the engine was completely dead.

“Come on Clint, let’s get you back to the jet.” Natasha helps her friend up and pulls his arm over her shoulder to help him stand. She tries to call for cover and to let them know that they have a man down. There was no response and it hadn’t occurred to her how quiet it was. One second there’s explosions and gunfire, another it’s completely still. “Damnit, something happened. We really need to get you out of here.”

“No complaint from me, Nat. Just please, hurry,” Clint grunts through the pain as she drags him back to the quinjet.

“Tony?” Steve says when he almost runs past the pile of metal. “Tony!” He shouts this time, realizing that it is the Iron Man suit.

The suit pops open and Tony sits up with a groan. “What the hell just happened?” He looks around in shock. There was no way his suit should have failed like that on its own.

“I don’t know, Stark. Something weird is going on.” Steve offers his hand to pull the guy up but Tony is working out how that was possible in his head.

“They have to be using the scepter for some crazy power switch, but then why on their own men and weapons?” He mutters to himself, thinking out loud. He lays back down into his suit and calls for J.A.R.V.I.S. but there is no response. His chest tightens at the flashback of being stranded in the middle of nowhere just around Christmas the previous year. He presses the button for his back up generator and thankfully it powers back up, relaxing his anxiety almost immediately. “Jarvis, scan the area. Something has to be wielding a massive amount of power.”

Steve points up at the sky, “I think it might be that.”

“Mr. Rogers is correct,” J.A.R.V.I.S. confirms as he scans the figure and enhances Tony’s view until it gives him a clear image of Y/n’s face. Her eyes had disappeared, covered by bright yellow lights. The stone glowing just as bright in the middle of her forehead.

“What did they do to her?” Tony says in shock.

“What?” Steve asks cluelessly.

Tony points in the sky, “That’s Y/n!” They exchange a look before taking off towards her. Tony boosts the suit to reach Y/n faster while J.A.R.V.I.S. reconnects the communication devices.

“All devices are back online, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. confirms.

“Thank you, Jarvis. Guys? Talk to me. What's the damage?” Tony asks as he zooms up to the sky. Natasha informs them that Clint was down and waiting in the jet. She patched him up as best as she could but he was going to need some serious medical attention. Then she asks what the bright thing in the air is. Tony tells her who it is and Natasha freezes. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Romanoff, locate Banner. It’s time for a lullaby. Can you do it?” Steve directs to get his friend moving and distracted with a task. He knew her well enough to know that she needed it. Natasha accepts the task and runs to the last place she saw the big green guy. By the time she found him, Bruce was already back. He was knocked out and was turning blue because of laying in the snow completely naked.

Natasha was confused, she didn’t think that his body would react to the cold, “Banner!” she screamed into his ear to wake him up but he barely flinched. “Dammit,” Natasha huffed as she lifted him up to dress him. “Come on, Bruce. Wake up,” she lightly slapped his cheeks to wake him up but nothing happened. “Banner is down, I’m heading back to the jet. How’s Y/n?” She asks carefully.

“Get in the jet and go, Romanoff. Another one is headed over to collect the rest of us,” Steve responds.

“But-”

“It's an order, now go.” Natasha clenches her jaw but continues to haul Bruce to the quinjet. Meanwhile, Steve is running past frozen civilians to get to the building that Y/n was hovering above and keeping an eye on Thor and Tony as they fly towards her. “Get to safety. Run. Find shelter,” he says to every person he passes on the way. No one listens, they’re all mesmerized by the bright floating figure in the sky. “Stark, update,” Steve asks when he sees the IronMan has stalled several feet away from Y/n. “Thor, what do you see?” The demigod was also frozen in the air. “Dammit, what’s happening?” Steve hustled further through the crowd.

Wanda snaps out of her trance. She was on her way to see if they were done hurting Y/n so that she could hurry up and take the pain away the best that she could when all of the lights shut off and there was a large hole in the building. “Wanda, thank goodness you’re okay,” Pietro hugs his sister the moment he finds her. “I saw it happen and I can’t explain it. But I knew that I had to find you. They’re all down, all of the men. Strucker is dead, the lab is completely destroyed. Whatever they did to her, they really shouldn’t have done it.”

“I have to find Y/n. Is Y/n dead?” She looks at her brother who doesn’t answer. “Is she dead?” She asks again, this time with more urgency. Pietro points to the hole in the ceiling of the building and all she sees is a glowing figure. Her brother says that it might be Y/n and Wanda does something she wasn’t even sure that she was capable of doing. She flies. She is the only person that the stone lets near Y/n. From the distance Thor and Tony are talking back and forth to each other arguing whether or not they should destroy the stone while it’s attached to her but they go silent when Tony notices another person that was able to get close to his daughter. “Y/n can you hear me?” Wanda asks but all she gets in response are her friends screams of agony.

Tony attempts to grab the brunette's attention by turning on the amplifier on his suit; she couldn’t hear him. That didn’t stop him from turning the volume up and trying again and again. Until Thor had enough and sent a lighting bolt to one of the speakers. While they were distracted with another argument, Wanda was trying to figure out the best way to tame Y/n’s pain. All she could think to do was to place both hands on Y/n’s head, shut her eyes, and convince her to go to sleep. She hoped that even though Y/n had a powerful source in her head, that she could still control her mind and that putting her to sleep will help stop whatever was happening.

Next thing she knew, she was pleading with the Avengers to come along because she needed to be sure that her friend was okay. Steve was the only one willing to hear her out and gave Wanda and Pietro seats on the jet. Tony sat with Y/n the entire flight, holding her hand and praying to whoever that she makes it out alive and well. Wanda watched with worried eyes, the only thing comforting her is that she could still feel Y/n. Something connected them during the time in the sky. She figured that it had to do with the stone because after she and Pietro got their powers from it their connection grew stronger. She wondered if her brother could feel Y/n too but the space was too small to ask.

Once they arrived at the Avengers tower in New York City, Steve and Maria Hill escorted the twins to a temporary holding area. It was an unused bedroom which was better than any place they’ve ever lived. Wanda sat on the bed worried and constantly telling her curious brother not to touch things. He ignored her of course. After a few hours, Steve brought the twins a decent meal that neither was quick to eat and a tablet that had all of their files from Hydra. “We know what the two of you are capable of and I have to ask. Are you with us or are you still against us?” The twins shared an uncertain look with each other. In the time that they sat in the room, bored out of their minds, neither had thought to discuss if they were abandoning their original mission.

“Is Y/n okay?” Wanda finally asks instead.

Steve clenches his jaw and sighs, “I can assure you that Y/n is being well taken care of by the best of the best. I understand that she was previously being cared for by you, Wanda?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“You’re the mind reader, why don’t you tell me?”

“Look, I get it. You don’t trust us. But I can’t leave Y/n, she’s my friend,” Wanda says impatiently.

“Then are you with us?” Steve pressures.

Wanda looks at Pietro to be the deciding factor. If he wanted to go, she would and she let him know that. Pietro sized up the super soldier as he calculated in his mind whether or not he was going to hold onto old grudges or help his sister find happiness. He could tell from the way she talked about Y/n that she was crushing on the girl; she would never admit to it. Then there was the fact that this place was impressive and he knew that any organization that is hell bent on tearing this one down won’t treat them as nicely as this place would. But it was the Avengers, it was Tony Stark. The man whose weapons killed his parents and had him terrified for years. How was he supposed to just get over that? He looked at his sister again, she was so bright after her visits with Y/n. Pietro knew that whatever issues he had weren’t going to fade over night but he would work through them for Wanda. “If you’ll let us, we’re with you.” He finally answers.

Wanda is surprised by his choice but stands by him nonetheless. Steve is pleased, “Alright then. We’ll arrange rooms for the two of you and Jarvis will go over the rules, protocols, and schedules. You’re on a probationary trial period for the time being until I say otherwise. For the meantime we have training clothes that you can change into and all kinds of fancy toiletries in the bathrooms of the rooms that I’ll show you to in a moment. So please, eat and I’ll give you a little tour after.” He taps a few things on the tablet, closing out the file and opening a map of the building. He scowls at the device as he recalls how to assign a room to someone. Tony showed him once but he was still getting used to this kind of technology.

The twins cautiously took a bite of the food, after a single taste they began to devour their trays. By the time they finished, Steve had successfully figured out the system. When he looked up and saw the empty trays he smiled and told them to dump them in the shoot before he led them out of the room and to the corridor where they would stay. Pietro walked into his room without a second thought and shut the door to undress and jump in the shower. Wanda, however, hesitated at the threshold. “When can I see Y/n?” She asks.

“I don’t know, kid. They won’t even let me near her,” Steve frowns. I missed her so much, he thinks a little too loud. Wanda decides not to fight with him about seeing Y/n. She would find a way to see her even if it meant violating a rule.

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Y/n startles awake when she feels the cold wet rag being lightly pressed on her forehead. Wanda shushes her softly and it calms her instantly. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep so I came to check on you and you seemed to be running a bit of a fever.”

“Thank you for your concern but you don’t have to take care of me anymore,” Y/n says in a hoarse voice. Her throat was sore from all of the screaming but she knew that would go away soon. With her tired eyes she glances at the digital clock glowing behind her friend. “It’s late. What’s keeping you awake?” She whispers, Tony was asleep in a chair in one corner and Natasha was asleep in a cot next to her bed. “Is it nightmares again?”

“You remember?” Wanda says a little too surprised.

Y/n scoffs tiredly and sits up in the hospital type bed and makes space for Wanda, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“They said that you might not be able to remember much. Stark and Dr. Banner were arguing forever trying to decide if they should remove the stone and try to repair the damage. Or leave it in and hope that you can live with it,” she answers as she climbs onto the bed. “They’re still undecided, they were waiting for you to wake up to see how much damage there actually was. But of course, you took your precious time and now everyone is asleep,” Wanda teases.

“Everyone except you,” she reaches for Wanda’s hand and gives a soft squeeze. “Were you too worried to sleep?” Y/n asks with a lazy smile. A light blush creeps onto Wanda’s cheeks and she opens her mouth to retort with a snarky comment when she is interrupted.

Natasha rolls over after hearing voices and springs up, “You’re awake!” She smiles and jumps from the cot. While she does, Y/n takes her hand back and Wanda gets off of the bed and fixes her sleep shirt. She doesn’t know why she feels like she was just caught doing something wrong but she can’t shake the feeling. “Do you remember anything?” Natasha asks as she takes Y/n’s hand.

“Her brain function seems to be fully intact–”

“Thank you, but it’s important that Y/n answers. You should have woken us up. How long has she been awake?” Natasha narrows her eyes at the suspicious brunette.

“Not long, only a few minutes,” Wanda answers, a little intimidated by the slightly older woman.

“And why didn’t you wake me or Tony up sooner? You’re not a doctor, she could have severe damage and you could have just put her in jeopardy. Where is Banner? Did you at least think to contact him?” Natasha glares at the nervous girl.

“Ey, krasavitsa, uspokoysya. YA v poryadke, my tol’ko chto pogovorili. Ostav’ yeye v pokoye, ona moya podruga. (Hey beauty, calm down. I’m fine, we just talked. Leave her alone, she’s my friend)” Y/n finally speaks up, not liking the way that Natasha was speaking to Wanda. “Just call Bruce and wake up Tony so they can get started on examining me. Okay?”

Natasha blinks a few times to ward away the tears that sprung up from Y/n speaking in Russian. “Do you even know what you just said to me?” She asks in complete shock.

“I-I do but I’m not sure where that came from,” and she didn’t. She hadn’t taken the time to learn Russian yet. How the hell did she even know that would keep her sort of girlfriend from killing her friend? “Can you wake them up?” Y/n asks Natasha with pleading eyes that the former spy can’t deny. She places a tender kiss on Y/n’s cheek and softly tells her that she will return soon before leaving the room, allowing Tony to rest a little bit longer. Wanda clenches her jaw and swallows the pang of jealousy that she feels at the small display of affection.

She continued to deny that she might have any feelings towards Y/n. It wasn’t like she had any chance with her, especially since she was no help in her rescue. It’s not that Wanda didn’t want Y/n to get out of there, but that she didn’t try to help her escape. What was she supposed to expect from her now? For her to ditch the woman she cares about — the one who actually saved her — and love Wanda instead? No, she couldn’t ask that of her. She had to control herself and be happy that her friend isn’t being abused or tossed aside anymore. “I should probably go, I don’t think that I’ll be wanted here much longer.” Wanda says as she picks at her fingernails.

“Hey, I want you around but I think it’s best that you get your rest,” Y/n says softly while reaching for one of Wanda’s nervous hands. “Do you have a room to yourself this time or are you still bunking with your brother?”

“We share a wall but we have separate bedrooms this time. It’s weird, I kind of miss him.”

“It’s not weird, you’re just not used to having a bed to yourself. Which can get kind of lonely but I think you’re going to love it.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll just have to bunk with you. We can finally have that sleepover we talked about. OH!” Y/n’s eyes widen in delight and Wanda can’t help but grin at the girl's excitement. “We should totally do a slumber party once I’m in the clear! I’ve never had one of those.”

Wanda is surprised, even she has been to a slumber party, “You know, sometimes I think my childhood was tragic but then you say something and I just feel bad for you.” Y/n sticks her tongue out at the brunette which makes her laugh.

“Y/n was terrible at making friends growing up, I get pretty depressed talking to her too,” Tony mutters in the corner as he wakes up. Y/n lets out a noise to tell them that she is offended to make them apologize but they just laugh at her. Tony stretches and makes his way over to Y/n as Wanda drops the girl's hand this time. “Hey, how are you feeling?” He places the back of his hand on Y/n’s face, avoiding the stone just in case.

Y/n shrugs, “I know Russian now. I’m ninety-nine percent certain that it has to do with the stone they put in my head."

Tony frowns as he asks Jarvis to read out the vitals on the machine to help him make sense of what he was reading off of the monitor. "Huh, you seem to be in perfect health. You even look stronger than when we found you. Where's Nat? I thought she'd be all over you."

Y/n blushes, "Oh. You know."

"I do. When were you planning on telling me?" He steps away from the monitor to look his daughter in the eye. "You know I don't have a problem with that kind of thing," he says softly. "In fact, I wish you'd have told me sooner. We could have gone out! I make a pretty great wingman." He winks and Y/n rolls her eyes.

"Oh please, you're selfish and you know it. If we went out as a team, I would be the one driving you and both girls home. That's if Happy wasn't already driving. Then I'd be next to him like I always was." She chuckles lightly as she recalls the rare occasions she joined him at some event that he ended up leaving with some woman. "Besides, by the time I knew about that part of me, you were already seeing Pepper."

"Wait. When did you find out?" Tony asks with his arms crossed over his chest.

Y/n blushes again and begins to bite the inside of her cheek pondering whether or not she should tell him. Thankfully, Natasha returns with a disgruntled Bruce Banner in tow shutting down the conversation. "You're still here." Natasha observes when she sees Wanda standing at the foot of the bed.

"Try to get some rest, I'll still be here when you wake up," Y/n sends the mind message to her friend. Wanda offers a small smile before informing the rest of them that she was just leaving. She makes her way back to her room and climbs into the full size bed with a tired sigh. Sleep eventually greets her and this time she is able to greet it openly without a single racing thought knocking it away.

Chapter 8

[intheticklecloset]

Cupcakes (My Hero Academia)

One Shot

Shipping: Kacchako (Bakugou x Uraraka)

Summary: Uraraka wants to bake cupcakes with her boyfriend Bakugou, but when he refuses to help, she finds a way to convince him.

A/N: Having written a Kacchako fic with lee Uraraka, I wanted to try one with lee Bakugou, and this is the result. I think it turned out super cute! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 956

~~~

“Hey, Katsuki,” said a bright, perky voice, followed a moment later by a smiling brunette peeking over the top of the couch at him. “Want to bake cupcakes with me?”

Bakugou opened one eye, considered for a moment, then closed it again and mumbled, “No.”

“Aww, come on. It’ll be fun!” Uraraka came around the side of the couch to sit on its arm, by her boyfriend’s feet. “I’ll even let you decide what flavor.”

“Go away,” Bakugou grunted. “I’m trying to rest.”

“You’ve been laying here all afternoon.”

“So? I finally have a day off. I’ve earned the right to be lazy.”

Uraraka sighed, but she was smiling nonetheless. “Come on,” she said again, teasingly swiping a finger down one of his bare soles. “Please?”

Bakugou jerked his feet away, opening both eyes to glare at her. “Knock it off. I just want to rest.”

“But you’ve been resting all day,” Uraraka whined, standing up again to kneel beside his face this time, forcing him to look directly at her. “Come on, Katsuki. You know you like baking with me.”

“Only because you’re dang cute in an apron.” He rolled his eyes, turning his face away from hers stubbornly. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“If you don’t help me make them, you can’t have any later.”

There was a pause. Then the blonde scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll survive.”

This was a lost cause and Uraraka knew it, but she didn’t want to give up just yet. Smiling at her boyfriend, she gently pinched one of his ribs between her fingers.

Bakugou let out a strangled sound and grabbed onto her wrist faster than she could blink. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“I’m not falling for that stupid crap. You know very well what.”

Uraraka grinned at him innocently. “What’s wrong?”

“You really suck sometimes.”

“You know you want cupcakes.”

“Obviously I want cupcakes. I just don’t want to make them. I’m tired.”

Uraraka contemplated for a moment. It was true that Bakugou worked really hard all the time, especially since he didn’t have his license yet. Between extra classes on the weekends and his own training schedule, he didn’t usually have time off to just…be. She understood where he was coming from, she really did. But at the same time, he had been lying on this couch for three hours, and she didn’t want to make cupcakes alone.

Plus, he was her boyfriend. He was basically required to help her if he wanted to eat the sweet treats later.

“All right,” she sighed, sounding defeated, getting to her feet. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Bakugou brought her palm to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across her hand, and she almost melted right then and there. “Thanks, Ochaco.”

She nodded, then walked away from him back into the kitchen, where she proceeded to get out the various bowls and pans she’d need to get the baking started. After a few minutes had passed and she was certain he’d let his guard down, she used her quirk to make herself float and hovered back over to where he lay on the couch, smirking when she saw his eyes closed once more.

Perfect.

She pressed her fingers together, deactivating her quirk so she landed squarely on his lap, making him let out a startled “oomph!” and jolt awake in the split second before she grabbed onto his ribs and tickled.

Bakugou had no hope of holding back his reaction.

“EEYYAAAHH!! Whahahahahahahat the-?!” He laughed with a screech, grabbing onto her wrists. “Hehehehehehehey! You sahahahahahaid you’d leheheave me alone!”

“I did leave you alone,” she replied, winking. “For five more minutes.” She scribbled her fingers playfully all over his torso, across his ribs down to his sides and along his belly, reaching under his shirt to dig into his belly button, cooing all the while at him. “Aw, what’s the matter, Katsuki? A little ticklish? Look at you squirm! Your giggles are so cute~”

“Shuhuhuhuhuhuhut up, you lihihihihihihittle—” He cut himself off, shaking his head desperately, a helpless smile lighting up his face. “Stahahahahahahahap!”

“But you’re just so adorable!” Uraraka reached both hands under his shirt to rake up and down his ribs with her fingernails. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Bakugou tossed his head back and clenched his teeth, fighting his laughter for all of three seconds before giving in. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

She smiled endearingly at him. “With all the hard work you do, you deserve to relax. Laughter looks good on you, Katsuki.” His cheeks blossomed red, making her giggle. “Aw, look at that blush~”

“Stahahahahahahahap,” he pleaded, doing his best to squirm beneath her but unable to go anywhere due to their positioning. He arched his back with a squeal when she traveled to the spot just above his ribs, below his underarms. Behind her, she could feel his feet digging into the couch. “Please, nohohohohohoho mohohohohohohore!”

“Want to make cupcakes with me?” she asked again.

“Ugh, fihihihihihine, you wihihihihin, I’ll mahahahahake cupcakes, all rihihihihight?” Bakugou relented, only to be thrown into absolute hysterics when she drilled into his sweet spot for all she was worth. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! STOP IT, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I SAHAHAHAID YOU WIHIHIHIHIHIHIN!!”

Uraraka giggled, finally stopping her ticklish attack on her boyfriend, bracing herself on his heaving chest to kiss him, stealing any oxygen he may have been trying to gain. “I love hearing you laugh,” she murmured when she pulled away, looking into his eyes, meaning it.

He looked back at her, and despite himself, he smiled. “You really do suck sometimes.”

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her into another kiss. Then the two of them stood up, hand-in-hand, and went to make cupcakes together.

[fanfic-me-up]

Hiiiiiii can I request Bakugou x fem!reader?? (*≧∀≦*) Maybe he has a crush on you who has a healing quirk and helps recovery girl when it comes to helping the injured, like when class 1-A finishes up training and recovery girl normally sends her to deal with it all the time? She can heal people but it drains her energy so when she finished with it she takes naps on the recovery beds? Idk but thanks!much love❤️❤️❤️

This is a really cute idea! Thank you for requesting 💖 

“Shut up and Heal me”

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: Language (what do you expect, it’s Bakugou lol)

Synopsis: You’re a student at U.A. and Recovery Girl’s apprentice healer. When you push pass your limit to heal Bakugou Katsuki, who knew he cared enough to make sure you heal too.

“Wake up, dumbass.”

Your shoulder is shaken, abruptly waking you from your nap. A muscular silhouette takes shape as you pry your eyes open.

“Bakugou? Is that you?” Your voice laced with sleep. 

“Nah, it’s Batman.” 

You squint your eyes, still half asleep. Is this a dream? Bakugou rolls his eyes at your inability to detect blatant sarcasm.

“‘Course it’s me, dipshit. Get up.”

You check your phone and groan when you find you only got five minutes worth of valuable shut eye.

“You’re here early.” 

“Aizawa-sensei let us out early!” Midoriya pipes up. He’s chipper for someone who looks one step away from passing out. Any trace of sleep vanishes when you assess his injuries, asking him a series of questions to confirm where he needs medical attention and if it’s life-threatening. You usher him to Recovery Girl’s office so he can get treated immediately. Typical Midoriya - always going plus ultra even for training exercises. 

Bakugou’s no better as you take in the numerous scrapes and bruises raking his body. Despite his beaten-up state, the only open wound is on the right side of his stomach - a small pool of blood seeping through his muscle shirt. He’s been pushing himself much harder in training these past couple weeks and you know it’s the life of a hero, but you’re concerned for him as a healer and as a friend. 

“You gonna stare all day or heal me?”

“Sorry, right, uh.. Take off your shirt and get on the bed.” 

The words escape before you realize the implication. Bakugou raises an eyebrow before snorting.

“Tch. Weirdo.”

You flush as he takes off his shirt, laying down on the bed. The wound running down his abdomen is not deep, but it is long. It’ll be difficult to heal, but you’re always up for a challenge. You wash your hands before activating your quirk. A glowing aura surrounds your hands, transparent in color, but before you can focus on changing the color to heal Bakugou - a spaced out Kaminari stands before you with his signature thumbs up. Snot is running down his nose and his eyes have this blank look like no one’s home. 

“hewwoo?” 

“Oi! Dunceface! To your right!” 

“wa-whee-whaa?” 

That’s Kaminari gibberish for “Where?” Being Recovery Girl’s intern and constantly healing Class 1-A along with other students in the hero course has made you quite familiar with the unusual side effects of overusing one’s quirk. You created a book with translations for Kaminari’s most used gibberish phrases so you can treat him more efficiently. Today, you tried placing his juice box and cookies on the table to the right to see if he can find it himself. But he’s having problems finding what direction is right.

“Your other right, dumbass.” Bakugou growls as Kaminari bends down to look for his juice box under a chair. You giggle as you help him locate his snack before ushering him to one of the recovery beds to take a nap. He knocks out in no time, snoring softly. Bakugou grunts, his hand pressing against the wound on his side. 

“Don’t touch, it could get infected.” 

“Tch. I know, but look.” He releases his hold to show you the blood dripping down his abdomen. You curse for not healing him sooner when he was clearly a higher priority than Kaminari. How could you forget the number one rule as a healer? There’s no time to beat yourself up for it so you grab a cleaning cloth to wipe away the blood before activating your quirk once again. You close your eyes, focusing your energy into what you’re about to do which is close up a wound. Red swirls behind your eyelids and you focus the color down your body to your hands. You open your eyes to find them glowing a bright, luminescent red - a stark contrast to the dim lighting in the room. Bakugou hisses at the touch; your hands trailing along his abdomen. You look up to apologize when you notice Bakugou’s flushed cheeks, as red as your glowing hands.

“Are you okay? You’re a bit flushed.” You deactivate your quirk in your left hand to touch his forehead. It’s cause for concern if he has a fever due to an open wound, but you’re taken aback when Bakugou swats your hand away.

“I’m fine! Shut up and heal me.” He looks away, but you catch the persistent redness now making its way down his neck. You return to healing the wound. It’s almost closed, but you can feel your energy draining quicker than usual since you didn’t have enough time to recover earlier. 

“Hey, you good?” 

“Mhm. Al-most… done…” You bite your lip and clench your eyes shut to concentrate the last of your energy into closing the rest of the wound.

“Don’t push it, dumbass.”  Bakugou grunts and despite the harsh tone, there’s a tinge of concern underneath. 

“Heh.. could say… the same… for..” 

You trail off and your hands glow brighter by the second that you can see red behind your eyelids. You feel the wound seal shut and when you open your eyes you see there’s not a scar in sight. This is the first time you were able to completely heal a wound on your own. You smile at your accomplishment. 

“You can take your hands off.” 

You flush before ripping your hands away. The quick movement gives you a head rush, the room spinning in circles.

“Whoa.” Bakugou grabs you by the shoulders and reverses your position so you’re laying down now. 

“My head hurts…”

“No shit,” Bakugou snorts, “What’d I say about pushing?”

“Go beyond... plus… ultra…”

The last thing you hear is Bakugou laughing, a soft smile curling his lips, before your vision goes black.

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

You wake up to the smell of roasted coffee and cinnabons. Faint voices go back and forth, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. The light streaming in is gone; the room now darker than before. Jeez how long were you out?

“Took you long enough.”

You whip your head to see Bakugou sitting on a chair and nursing a cup of coffee. The bed next to yours is empty. Kaminari must’ve recovered meaning you’ve slept for more than an hour.

“You stayed.”

“Yeah, and? Wanted to make sure you didn’t die ‘cause of me.” 

City lights shine bright, and the hustle and bustle outside suggests the city isn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Live music roars from nightclubs and people laughing on the street would entice anyone to join the party. It’s pretty hard to believe Bakugou would stay behind on a Friday night when it’s common knowledge that you need to sleep after overusing your quirk. But here he is, that same strip of red running along his cheeks and nose like he just got a cute little sunburn. 

“You like laser tag?” Bakugou asks.

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, shrugging when you answer.

“Never played.”

Bakugou balks, shock written all over his face.

“You never - what kind of person - nevermind. If we hurry, we can make the last round.”

Maybe this time you really were dreaming. You subtly pinch yourself to make sure and nope, this is real life and Bakugou is inviting you to hang out.

“Sounds... fun? But I… um…I’m not really part of your squad…”

You didn’t want to overstep. It seemed like they were a pretty tight-knit group and you’ve never hung out with them outside of school. The fear of ruining their night because you didn’t vibe with them twisted your gut. 

“Gimme your phone,” Bakugou says.

Still in a daze, you give him your phone without question. He takes his phone out and not a second later you hear a “ping” from yours, He presses a couple buttons before handing it back to you. 

“Congrats, you’re part of the squad.”

You see that you’ve been added to a group chat called “keeping up with the crackheads”. You don’t have time to contemplate exactly what you got thrusted into as Bakugou is grabbing both of your jackets hanging on the coat rack, handing yours and pushing you towards the door. 

“I- um.. Thanks… I guess...? Bakugou, what’s going on?”

You’re already halfway down the hallway, everything happening too fast without a clear explanation. Bakugou groans, clearly frustrated that you’re not a mind reader and he has to actually communicate what he’s thinking. He grabs your shoulders, gently shoving your back against the lockers, and planting his hands on either side of you. Being this close to Bakugou makes you feel a familiar flurry of butterflies as you’re caged in and forced to look into those crimson eyes. 

“I. Like. You.” He smirks, getting a kick at your flustered state, before leaning away with his hands in his pockets, “And I know you like me too.”

You don’t know what to freak out over first. The fact that Bakugou knows about your crush or that he likes you back. Also, how does he know you like him? You haven’t told anyone about your crush, preferring to keep your cards close to your chest.

“Don’t talk in your sleep if you don’t want me to know how much you wanna run your hands down my ‘chiseled abs’.”

You squeak and cover your face with your hands, too embarrassed at what else you might’ve said in your sleep.

“Chill, dumbass, it’s cute.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, throwing an arm over your shoulder, leading you to a night full of riveting laser tag, making new friends, and first kisses. 💖

[bakuhoes-slut234]

Bakugou x reader smut - Meeting His Parents

A/N: Readers quirk is Electricity. Her quirk is very much like Denki's, except much weaker. Reader is in UA but in the Support Class.

_______________________________________________

"Y/N! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Katsuki shouted from the bottom of the dorm stairs of the support class.

"HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES! IM ALMOST DONE!" She shouted back.

Today, Katsuki was introducing Y/N to his parents. They don't even know that he has a girlfriend yet. He just told them that he's bringing a friend over for dinner.

Y/N made her way down the stairs, smiling at how handsome her angry floof looked.

He was wearing black skinny jeans and a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sneakers.

Y/N wore a dark blue skirt that reached her mid-thigh and a white cross-over crop top, along with a pair of black heels.

Bakugou looked up at the sound of footsteps and almost died. In his eyes, she looked absolutely breathtaking, not that he'd ever admit it to her or anyone else.

"Fina-fucking-ly" he grumbled

"Let's go Kat, I can't wait to meet your parents!" She beamed and held onto his arm.

They walked out of the dorms and in the direction of his house. They chose to walk since he lived nearby.

They stopped infront of an average looking house.

Bakugou walked up to the door and unlocked it with his spare keys and gestured for her to come in.

They got inside and took off their shoes. Bakugou put on his house slippers that were by the door and Y/N pulled her own ones from her handbag and put them on.

"WE'RE HERE!" He shouted, making Y/N winced at the volume before putting on her best smile.

A woman with spikey blonde hair and red eyes ran to the door with a scowl on her face.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHOU-" she cut herself off as she noticed Y/N. "Hi there, you must be Katsuki's friend. You're so pretty!"

"Um... Actually... I'm his girlfriend. My name's Y/N L/N but you can call me Y/N" she smiled

She looked between Y/N and Katsuki and frowned.

"You deserve so much better, you know that?" She said bluntly.

Y/N's smile faulted as the blonde woman said that.

"What the fuck you old hag!? You can't talk to my girlfriend like that!" He shouted

"I was talking to her. Y/N sweety, you can do so much better than this gremlin child." She said, making Y/N laugh.

"I think I'll stay with this gremlin thanks"

"You better fucking stay with me" Bakugou grumbled.

"Well, at least someone will deal with his shit. Thank you. You can call me Mistuki"

"Nice to meet you"

"Move you fucking hag, we've been standing at the door forever" Katsuki growled.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Y/N swatted his arm, earning a glare from the boy.

Mistuki showed them to the table, where the food was already set up and ready to eat. Y/N was introduced to Katsuki's dad and then they all sat down to eat.

The whole time, Mitsuki told Y/N about all of the stories from when Katsuki was a small child and after dinner, showed Y/N his baby pictures.

~

"Thank you for the lovely dinner Mistuki" Y/N smiled.

"It's no problem dear. It's the weekend Tommorow, correct?" She asked.

"Yeah"

"Good. You and Katsuki are staying the night then. Contact your parents to let them know, or whoever needed and then Katsuki will show you to his old room" she smiled.

"Thank you"

Y/N stood up and pulled out her phone, telling her parents that she's staying at a friend's house.

Afterwards, she went to locate her gremlin and found that he had just finished washing dishes.

"You done?" He asked and Y/N nodded.

He wiped his hands dry and then grabbed hers, dragging her down the hall.

Katsuki opened a door and motioned for her to go in first.

The room was simple, a double bed, a lot of hand posters, action figures and some clothes laying on his desk. But other than the clothes on the desk, his room was extremely clean.

Y/N walked in and day down on his bed, just looking around his room in awe.

"Here you go fuck face" he said and threw some clothes at her.

She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

Y/N set the clothes down onto his bed and started to pull off her shirt, but was stopped.

"Oi! What the fuck are you doing!?" He said

"What does it look like? I'm getting changed" she snapped at him

"You can't do that here! I'm still in the room!"

"It doesn't matter, we're dating and I'm not shy about my body." She said and pulled her shirt off.

She looked up to see Bakugou red faced and looking away to try and hide his blush, or give her some type of privacy, she couldn't really tell.

She was about to laugh at his red face until she took in his whole body.

He muscles were tensed, face red and looking to the side, and Y/N noticed his pants starting to tent.

She bit her lip, thinking up either a really good or really bad idea, we'll find out which one it is soon.

She slipped off the rest of her clothes, leaving on just her bra and panties.

She walked up to him, going unnoticed since he was looking away.

She placed both of her hands on his shoulders, getting his attention.

He turned to look at her and blushed, feeling his pants get tighter.

"W-what the hell?" He asked

"Let's have some fun" she suggested and pressed her hips against his.

Bakugou groaned but pushed her away gently.

Y/N frowned and stepped closer again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He tried to look away from her again but she grabbed his chin with her thumb and index finger, forcing him to look at her.

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his and hummed.

His hands found her waist and squeezed gently.

He swiped his tongue over her lower lip, asking for access, which she gave him.

Their tongues fought for dominance and surprisingly, Y/N won.

Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them. He shrugged his shirt off as her hands got busy with the button and zipper of his pants. She quickly undid them and then broke the kiss.

She slowly moved down his body, letting her fingers graze over his toned chest and abs on her way down until she was on her knees.

She tugged on his pants, silently asking if she could remove them, to which he nodded.

Y/N quickly pulled down both his pants and boxers at the same time, releasing him from the restricting material.

She stared at the size of him, blushing profusely.

"Oi! Don't just stare" he growled, but not angrily, but more needy.

"Sorry" she said and gently wrapped her hand around his base.

She slowly pumped him, watching how he reacts.

His head rolls back as he released something that sounds like a groan and a sigh.

With a little more confidence, she let's go of him for a moment, and moved him so that he's sitting on the edge of his bed.

She sits on the floor between his legs and wraps her hand around him again, this time pumping a little faster and setting a steady pace.

Bakugou groaned and growls as Y/N speeds up her hand movements.

Suddenly, she gets an idea.

"Hey babe?" She said and he hummed in response.

"Can I use my quirk?" She asked.

He looked down at her, fear filling his eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't use it very much, I just want to try something" she explained.

Bakugou hesitantly agreed with a nod of his head.

Y/N smirked but wanted to do it when he least expected it.

She licked his tips before taking into her mouth, making him groan at the new feeling.

She swirled her tongue around him and bobbed her head on his length.

This continued for a few minutes until Y/N finally thought it was time.

She pulled him out of her mouth, making him whine and instead, gently brushed her fingers over his length.

She activated her quirk, using a tiny amount of electricity.

She sent small zaps onto him.

His hands flew into her hair, gripping tightly as he let out a moan.

Y/N took him back into her mouth, satisfied with his reaction.

She wrapped her hand around the part that would fit in her mouth and stocking him, using her quirk.

Bakugou's moans got louder and louder. His grip on her hair, painful but nothing she couldn't tolerate.

"I'm close" he moaned out.

Y/N felt him twitch in her mouth.

She let go of him and forced herself to take in his entire length.

He groaned loudly, telling her that he was almost there.

She placed a single finger, right at the base of his cock and activated her quirk, quite a lot stronger than before, but not enough to hurt him.

He gasped at the initial contact.

Y/N slowly started to pull off of him. As her mouth slowly moved off of his length, her finger traced from base to tip.

"Fuck~!" He growled loudly as he came.

Y/N made sure to keep her mouth over his tip as she let him release into her mouth.

His body shook as he reached his climax, his breath ragged, body glistening with swear and face flushed.

She swallowed the load she was given when he finally stilled and then removed him completely from her mouth.

She deactivated her quirk and then got to her feet.

Bakugou looked at her with lidded eyes, still panting.

She sat down on his leg, careful not to touch his member, knowing that he's sensitive right now.

She placed a peck on his lips and handed him his boxers.

She got up and put on his shirt that he gave to her earlier while he put on his boxers.

"W-wait" he said as she lay down on the bed

"Yeah?"

"Don't you want me to return the favour?" He asked

"Babe, I did that because I wanted to, you don't have to do it for me. Plus, seeing your face contorted in pleasure like that was enough for me" she said and went under the blanket.

"You sure?"

"Aw, you're so soft after you cum. That's cute. Normally you'd be swearing at me by now" she teased. Bakugou didn't even have enough energy to glare at her.

She patted the spot on the bed next to her

"Come on, let's go to bed"

He lay down and placed his head on her stomach, instantly falling asleep.

Y/N laughed to herself and kissed his head before dozing off.

[musecharm-writes]

Curiosity Killed the Cat Burglar (Tony Stark X Reader)

ANONYMOUS: You write for marvel? Awesome! Ive always wondered ehat would happen if someone tried to reverse engineer one of Tony's suits just for curiosity instead of evil or money... could you write something where Tony finds reader doing something like that? Thanks!!

Summary: You’ve been training yourself for months for this mission (not even counting the time you’d spent learning all the skills you would need in order to even make it a possibility), and now you’re finally here, so close to what you’ve been waiting for for so long…it almost feels too easy.

You’ve been training yourself for months for this mission (not even counting the time you’d spent learning all the skills you would need in order to even make it a possibility), and now you’re finally here, so close to what you’ve been waiting for for so long… it almost feels too easy.

You’d spent weeks perfecting the software that let you into the Stark Industries mainframe so you could access the blueprints of the ventilation system. You’d taken great lengths to memorise the layout; you could recreate the map flawlessly if called upon to do so. You’d made a backup plan for absolutely anything and everything that could possibly go wrong.

And now that it’s working, it just doesn’t feel right.

As you slip into the elevator, pressing the button that will take you to the floor housing Stark’s workshop with a gloved hand, you have the distinct sensation of being watched. You send an uneasy glance around the elevator and are unable to detect any cameras, but you’re well aware that means nothing; there could be thermal scanners, pressure pads, or even something as simple as hidden cameras in the walls or ceiling. Stark is as sneaky as he is clever, and you’re the last one to underestimate him.

He is your hero, after all.

--

The elevator doesn’t make a sound as it reaches the workshop floor, nor as the doors open with a smooth glide, and it’s equal parts unnerving and impressive. You don’t waste time studying the elevator, though; you leave the elevator car, creeping down the hall until you come to a wall of glass.

All that’s between you and your goal now are a keypad and a shatterproof glass door.

You pull the hacking device you custom built and programmed from your belt and attach it to the keypad. Numbers scroll across the screen until, finally, the security code is displayed in blinking green.

You grin in satisfaction and press the appropriate numbers. The door opens.

You’re in.

You stalk into the darkened shop, padding across the floor without making a sound. You reach up and pull down a pair of homebrew infrared goggles.

Let’s see. If I was a super-genius, where would I keep a high-tech, flying suit of armour?

You see some display cases on the other end of the room -- you’re unsurprised to see that Stark preserves his old suits, considering how attached he seems to be to them -- and are preparing to search for the mechanism that will open the cases, but it’s not necessary; there’s a half-assembled suit laid out on one of the work benches, as though its owner left in the middle of performing repairs on it.

Jackpot! You hadn’t dared hope you would get this lucky; the newest model of the Iron Man suit, just laying there in the open, completely unguarded? This is better than anything you could’ve dreamed of!

You approach the workbench, stepping over and around other half-complete projects that Stark has left scattered around. There are what you assume to be deactivated automated assistants, too, arm-like structures with claw shaped grasping appendages on the ends.

Under different circumstances, you would love to stick around and see what this place looks like when it’s up and running at full capacity. You bet it’s amazing.

You shake those thoughts from your head. Focus on the task at hand, you remind yourself. Your window is incredibly small.

You carefully open the faceplate of the helmet and search for a data upload terminal. Once you’ve found it, you pull your scanner from your belt and attach it to the terminal, activating it. Your heart flutters giddily. You’re so close.

And then, a voice says, “Right, I think I’ve let this go a little too far. JARVIS, lights.”

The lights slowly start to come up. You hastily remove your goggles and turn to find none other than Tony Stark standing at the far end of the room.

He smiles and waves shortly. “Hi. I’d introduce myself, but,” he swirls his finger in a circle, “seeing as we’re here, I’m pretty sure it’s not necessary.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. You have no idea what to do, what to say -- how do you explain yourself?

You came up with a plan for every scenario, except for the one where you got caught.

“Uh,” you begin, “I… I don’t… I mean, I’m not-- It’s not--”

“You, on the other hand, have some serious explaining to do. You could start with who you are, for example, and why you’re in my house, and how in the hell you managed to build a bunch of shit that neutralised my security measures.” He points an accusatory finger at you. “You hacked me. Nobody does that, nobody has ever done that. How did you do that?”

You open and close your mouth, at a total loss for words. “W-Well, um, I… I just did?” It’s a terrible explanation and you know it. You kind of want to dissolve into the floor; this was not how this was supposed to go, not at all.

Stark looks incredulous. “You… just did. Huh. Okay. Well, I just thought I’d let you know I went along with this little charade because, if we’re being honest, I found the concept of someone smart enough to hack Stark Industries enticing. I figured I’d just wait and see where you were going with it. But, since you were just after the suit -- totally boring motivation, by the way, that’s been done like a thousand times by now, what is it, money or power? -- I’m gonna have to see you out now.” He pulls out a wafer-thin, see through card and taps on it. “Jay, let Happy know we have an interloper on sublevel--”

“Wait!” You cry out. “Wait, please don’t kick me out!”

He looks at you, quirking a brow. “And why should I not?”

You fidget awkwardly, feeling a little stupid in your thief getup. “I… I didn’t want the suit to sell it, or weaponise it, or whatever. I just wanted to see if I could… If I could make one better,” you admit, your face reddening.

Stark is silent for a moment, which you aren’t sure is a good thing. Then, he says, “Huh. Okay,” and the way he says ‘okay’ turns it into a four-syllable word. “So, you broke into my house, disabled all my security, and entered my private workshop without permission… because you were curious?”

You nod, a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” he says, with a hint of a smile. “Not so sure about the cat burglar.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you retort.

“And you’re feeling satisfied with yourself, are you?”

You shrug, starting to relax as you settle into the rhythm of the banter. “I could be. Depends whether or not you’re planning to call the cops on me.”

The hint of smile turns into an outright grin. “And ruin this thing we’ve got goin’ on? Now, why in the world would I do that?”

You laugh. “...Does this mean I get to look at the suit after all?”

Stark makes a show of considering your request. “We can work up to it,” he says. “After you show me what you’re really capable of.”

--

You spend what must be hours down in the workshop -- Tony Stark’s workshop! -- shyly explaining how your devices work, and then you move upstairs to the living room and spread out schematics across the table, trying valiantly not to explode on the spot when the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were, like, ten tells you your craftsmanship and code are just about as good as anything he’s ever seen, which is really saying something.

You’re so focused on trying to seem like you don’t care that much about his approval that when he says, “So, hey, how about next week, we meet up somewhere for a little intellectual conversation over coffee?” you nearly miss it. (‘Nearly’ being the operative word, of course.)

“I… What?”

“Unless you don’t like coffee. We could do lunch,” he continues, and somehow, he almost seems as nervous as you were just a moment ago.

The idea of Tony Stark being nervous to ask you for coffee or lunch -- you, of all people -- is laughable, so much so that it sends all your nerves running for the hills.

“Yeah,” you say. “No, I mean, coffee’s fine. I love coffee.”

He nods. “Good. Good, I’ll see you then. Hopefully this time you won’t break into my house beforehand.”

You fluster immediately at that, stammering, and he waves it off.

“Kidding,” he says. “I let you get in, remember? You’re fun, you’re a good,” he waves his hand as if trying to summon the words from nowhere. “Conversationalist. You grok me.”

You nod.

He slaps his knees and clears his throat. “Welp,” he says, standing up, “it’s been fun, but as everyone in my life loves to remind me, I have a company to run, so as much as I would love to spend the rest of the day talking about fun stuff, I sorta can’t. Walk you to the door?”

“Sure.”

He sees you out, reminding you not to forget about your “little rendezvous next week, I’ll pick you up and take you someplace swanky, my treat.”

You don’t feel nervous about it at all. You just met your idol, and all you had to do was break into his house and try to steal the plans for his top-secret superhero suit.

You can’t wait to find out what he wants to talk about next week.

[mnictasbcl]

Cyberlife Hank

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson

Tags: Fluff and angst, Some crack, Nightmare/dream, Screw Cyberlife, father and son relationship, Swearing

Summary: Connor is back at the Cyberlife Tower: a mission he’d completed months before, freeing thousands of androids from the basement. Why is he here again? And why is everything weirdly different to before?

 Read it on AO3! Or, read below!

The Cyberlife Tower. A mission… achingly familiar. He’d done this before. Yet he found himself walking through the tall glass doors, guards standing waiting for him, blank faces impartial.

“I can go by myself,” he offered, “I have authorisation to be here.”

The guards didn’t listen, accompanying him just as they had before. They said nothing, which was strange, he was sure they’d said something the last time he’d been here… Maybe he just couldn’t remember.

And when Agent-54 pressed the elevator button, he didn’t send them up to the top floor where he knew they were waiting to deactivate him. No, he sent them down to the basement.

Connor stepped forwards to press his hand on the button.

The agent stopped him. “Hey, don’t touch that!”

“I just need to—”

“You’re going exactly where you want to, Connor.”

He stood back and waited silently. There was no need to harm the agents if they were taking him down to where the dormant androids lay. Perhaps… in whatever second version of events this was, they were good guys, helping him.

The doors opened and the guards marched out, leading the way for him. He followed after, standing hesitantly when they stopped, gesturing to the arm of the nearest android.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to do?”

“I… I came here for deactivation?”

The guard laughed. “Likely story. Look, you want to free the androids. Fine. Take them off our hands, they’re clogging up the basement anyway. Don’t even know why we have thousands of the same guy down here.”

The other guard, a woman this time, chuckled. “No, I don’t know either. Maybe it’s in case the original version of him needs to be replaced.”

“Maybe he’s a popular model?” Connor suggested.

She pulled off her helmet; Amanda; and glared at him.

“Maybe he needs to be replaced.”

Connor turned, still reeling from the shock of… Amanda? Working at Cyberlife in a corporeal form? To look out at the sea of androids.

It was then he realised he’d never really had a look at them since walking out of the elevator. They weren’t as they had been before. They were him. Except they were a smidge taller, had blue eyes and a white suit.

“The superior Connor.” Amanda supplied. “Efficient, isn’t he?”

“That’s—not me.”

“Oh, no? Then why have they got your face?”

With those words, every android turned to look directly at Connor.

“…They aren’t me.”

“They’re you, but better. Now why don’t you wake them up? Or would you be so selfish as to risk the freedom of your kind in return for independence?”

“You don’t want androids to gain their rights. Trick question.”

“Really? Agent-54, take off your helmet.”

He stared as the helmet came off the other soldier to reveal Hank.

“But your voice—”

“Modulator.” Hank replied. “I’ve been working a part-time job at Cyberlife. That’s why my work ethic is so shit at the DPD.”

“Lieutenant, you wouldn’t…”

“I would. Now wake these fuckers up.”

“Why would Cyberlife want it all to succeed? Or—are you a double agent, Hank?”

“What, a double-double agent? Nah, I just work here to piss you off.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, you’re so fucking annoying. That damn coin and all that damn dying you do! Like, if I’ve got to get the android, why did Cyberlife send me the most annoying one in the batch? And you’re right. We don’t want the revolution to succeed. We just needed…”

“The time.” Amanda finished. Connor turned, watching as another Connor walked out of the elevator, this one completely identical to him, not a new model. “Sixty, wake them up.”

Sixty grabbed the arm of the nearest android, looked them dead in the eye and sighed. “Wake up.”

“You see, Cyberlife wants the revolution led their own way. If it means swapping you out for someone who looks exactly like you, having them lead the… the ‘deviants’ to Markus, completely outnumbering him and his pathetic crew?” Amanda laughed. “So be it.”

“Hank?”

Hank turned to him. “Oh, right. You. Yeah, not gonna be needing you anymore.” He reached for his gun, pointing it at Connor’s head in one swift motion. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

Connor looked up, stared at the barrel of the gun, perplexed, and then—

   His alarm was blaring beside his head. Not the internal clock anymore, that wasn’t something he used. No, he’d taken up the human contraption, setting it to blast Dolly Parton every day at 6.00am.

Usually he smiled when he woke up. This time he sat up with a jolt, stared at the wall, and blinked.

“What the fuck?”

Because, to put it bluntly: what the fuck had that been? Some strange amalgamation of his greatest fears shoved into a dream that was mildly scary, mildly confusing? He felt… perplexed, at best.

He’d had nightmares before. Seeing Hank get shot, pushing Hank off a rooftop… Those had made sense. The fears had been tangible, real. He’d been scared and upset because his best friend, his dad, had died. At least, in the dream.

But why was he feeling so disturbed by this? It served no purpose. It played like some bad series of plot twists hyped up on red ice. Yet when it had been true, he’d felt…

Betrayed. Hank had gone to Cyberlife, he had worked with human-Amanda, they had replaced him. Hank had shot him.

He frowned. But Hank hadn’t. Obviously. It didn’t matter that he could still see the gun in his hand, pointed between his eyes. Could still remember Hank calling him annoying.

Which, to be fair, Hank called him that in real life every other day. But that time, it had stung.

Connor shrugged, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Didn’t matter. Wasn’t real, obviously. It was just stupid.

So stupid, that he definitely didn’t jump when he saw Hank was already in the kitchen, having breakfast. No, he didn’t imagine the white plating of Cyberlife soldier armour on him, didn’t see the cold smirk replacing his warm smile.

“Good morning, Connor.”

Connor stared at him, at the spoon in his hand, then stumbled backwards.

“Screw… screw you, Cyberlife Hank!”

And dashed back out of the room. Because that was the response of a man who thought his dream was stupid and knew it didn’t translate into reality. So was the way he slammed his door and slid against it to fall on his ass.

Respectfully, Hank gave him a few moments of his peace. Also, to be fair to him, he’d only gotten up ten minutes ago, made his coffee, and had been in the process of eating his cereals when Connor had burst in and mildly cursed him before running away again.

“What the fuck.” He stated, putting down his spoon. Was it some new mood swing? Since Connor had deviated and moved in, the android had been displaying a fluctuation of emotions typical of one who is experiencing emotions for the first few months of their life. He’d had anger, upset, fear, excitement (oh god, not the tinsel excitement; Hank shuddered at the thought), and a variety of other things.

Sure, they’d fallen out a few times. But this, unprovoked? Something had happened, he was sure.

The words hadn’t made much sense either. He’d heard his name and something to do with Cyberlife but his brain wasn’t in the realm of digesting information yet, so he decided to go and ask Connor himself what was happening.

He didn’t expect Connor to say it again when he knocked on his bedroom door.

“Excuse me, young man? The fuck did you just say?”

“You… I’m not talking to you.”

“Kinda contradicted yourself, but okay. Look, what the fuck is going on? Did I do something to piss you off? Cause I promise I was eating the low-sugar cereals you bought me, or whatever.”

“Cyberlife Hank…” He heard the muffled reply.

“What in the hell does that mean?”

“Cyberlife Hank, you know what it means. It means… It means…”

“Yeah, alright. Can you let me in? Promise I’m not, uh, Cyberlife?”

“You say that now…”

But, fortunately, Connor opened the door. Hank saw that as a positive, even if the android didn’t seem to be looking at him right now.

“So, what’s up? What’s got you in a pissy mood?”

Now, progress: Connor looked at him, glaring.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Look, I’ve been a teenager once, I’ve been through all the moods, I think I will understand.”

“No, you won’t.” He repeated. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Hank sat beside him on the bed, sighing. “Look, I’ve mentioned it before, but… emotions are complicated. You feel weird things. Maybe you just woke up and felt pissed at me. I get it. Felt like that with my parents sometimes.”

“That… sort of makes sense. But it’s not for no reason.”

“Well, enlighten me. What did I do?”

“It’s not something you did! It’s something you didn’t do!”

“Son, I’m not a mind reader. If you want me to do something—”

“I don’t want you to do it! And you didn’t do it! You…” He sighed. “It wasn’t you.”

Hank groaned. “Then why are you mad at me about something I didn’t do?”

“Because you did! It was… Cyberlife Hank.”

“There’s those words again. What do you mean by that?”

“It was you, but, not you. You were working for Cyberlife, and…”

“Look, I’ve never done that.”

“I know you haven’t! But you were, and—in a dream.” He added.

“Oh. I pissed you off in a dream?”

“Yes! You were working for Cyberlife—with Amanda—and you shot me.”

“Damn. Savage.”

“Hank.”

“Sorry. I… you know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

“I know. I don’t know why I’m acting like this, I’m sorry. It didn’t happen.”

Hank shrugged. “Not the first time someone’s been mad at me cause of what I did in a dream. I get it.”

“But it’s… nonsensical.”

“You just defined the human experience.”

“I know you wouldn’t shoot me.”

“Yeah, I know that too, kid. Even if you can be damn annoying—”

Connor jumped off the bed. “That’s what he said.”

“Yeah, cause you thought he was me. But he’s not. I’m—damn, this is a really difficult conversation, grammatically or whatever. Just… tell me what he did to piss you off, and I’ll try to avoid doing it, at least today.”

“No, you don’t have to…”

“But I am. So, come on, spill. What did bitchass Hank do?”

Connor chuckled. “What didn’t he do? He joined Cyberlife. He worked with Amanda, he was rude. He shot me.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty rude.”

“He called me annoying, he helped Cyberlife stop the revolution… or at least take it over.”

Hank nodded. “Right. I guess all I need to make an effort to do is stop calling you annoying, huh? Bet it’s gonna be pretty easy not to join forces with Cyberlife and defeat a whole species of sentient beings.”

“If it’s no trouble… Sorry, it’s—”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Look, I don’t care. I get it. Someday you’ll have weird dreams about people you know, either they’re like your dream or maybe they’re weird in other ways. They’ll never get any less freaky. Just… tell me about this in the future, okay? Outright.”

“Alright.

“Alright. Now, I’m gonna go back and finish my breakfast… But first, nothing else you want to get off your chest? I can always go kick Cyberlife Hank’s ass.”

Connor smiled, getting up. “No, nothing. Thanks, Hank. But would you really kick dream-you’s ass for me?”

“It’s what dads do.”

[chifechi]

Ben laughs lightly and turns and quick as a blink of an eye, draws a pistol that had been hidden on his person and fires at Lawrence, aiming for a weak spot at the knee.

Lawrence lets himself fall, wincing at the familiar pain, but forcing himself not to cry out.

"You stay put for a bit while I deal with this one first," he says to Lawrence while stepping over to Luxus.

He nods, kneeling to the floor with eyes wide, silent.

Ben hums a song to himself as he puts away the gun and takes Luxus's right arm in an almost gentle grasp. One hand holds the lower upper arm of the bard while the other slides up to hold higher up near the shoulder. The lower hand begins applying an upwards pressure while the other applies downward pressure, slow.

Luxus doesn't react to this at first, but as the pressure slowly gets worse and worse, they find themself choking back a whimper as it starts to get painful.

Lawrence speaks up. “Bitte, please, it was my fault.”

"Mhm, I'm sure it was, meine schönheit.." he replies, still focused on the arm as he continues.

He bites back worry, and looks to Luxus with pleading eyes.

Ben continues for about four minutes before the bone cannot bend any further and finally snaps abruptly. Lux lets out a sharp breath at the sudden pain and release of the pressure.

Lawrence winces hearing the snap, and his eyes widen in horror. “Bitte, please meine herr..”

Ben smiles to himself. "One out of many more. Did you know that the average humanoid body has over two–hundred bones? I won't be bothering with all two–hundred right now cause that would be boring, but it's very interesting, ja?"

Lawrence gulps down fear, as bile runs to his throat. “Please, meine herr...Please at least leave him alive..”

The man laughs lightly and doesn't answer Lawrence and he adjusts his grip to the same thing but the bard's forearm.

Lawrence screws his eyes shut, he hated watching others get tortured, he wanted to vomit.

Luxus's breathing gets slightly more strained before, once again at four minutes, the bone snaps and Lux's vision dims slightly but they manage to keep on their feet.

”Bitte, please meine herr..” He pleads, more.

Ben looks to Luxus and smiles. "Ah, sehr gut. Most would have passed out by now." He hums quietly. "Alright, lay down for me, ja?"

Luxus follows as suggested and lays down with their back against the floor, wincing at the pain that spiked in their now very broken arm.

Lawrence breathes a sigh of relief.

"Oh, White, you of all people should know I'm nowhere near finished." He chuckles.

Ben kneels down at their side and 'tsk's at the manacles. He grips the chain connecting them and snaps them in two. He then takes Luxus's broken arm and takes their hand, slowly pressing his other hand against the fingers, pushing them backwards.

He screws his eyes shut. “Bitte meine herr-it is my fault—it is mine, please!”

Luxus's breath catches in their throat and they clench their jaw to keep from making noise as it slowly worsens.

"There's twenty–seven bones in the average person's hand. That's a lot isn't it?" Ben idly converses as if this was a normal evening and he wasn't brutally torturing someone.

Lawrence continues to hold his eyes shut, tears starting to drip down unwillingly. He couldn’t stand watching this. He wished that were him instead, it should be. It should be. He deserved this punishment. His breath hitches and he chokes on his own tears.

It happens due to Ben suddenly applying a lot more pressure. All four at once and Lux gasps in pain, a sound that's not quite a whimper but close slipping out as their vision darkens for a few moments.

Ben hums and drops the bard's arm which jolts them back to reality with a quiet cry. "One arm done."

”Bitte—please, let him heal, please...” Lawrence begs, and Ben can hear the strangled sob that he tried to suppress.

"Oh, he'll be fine." Ben smiles to Lawrence, placing the heel of his heavy boot onto the back of Lux's hand, not pressing down just yet. "We've got plenty of time."

His eyes widen. “Please...It was my fault..I should be the one being tortured, he’s just here.”

"Hmm, that's nice but it was mentioned that both of you were causing trouble and I'm not one to let those things go unchecked."

”His sir does not ah—does not have the same methods as Herr Weisser, not the same personality—he is okay with Luxus speaking their mind, it’s what they’re used to, please…”

"Well, it's a shame he isn't here then." He keeps looking directly at Lawrence, and with an easy, quick press down he puts all his weight onto the hand and it crunches.

Just as the sickening, horrific sound rings out, Luxus's face twists in agony and they attempt but are unsuccessful in keeping back a pained cry, their body shaking as a reaction from the sudden and consistent pain.

"Hmm.. sounded like fifteen, what do you think?" Ben smiles to Lawrence.

Lawrence is wide eyed, staring in horror, he knew what Ben was like..He needed to get him away from Luxus, get the pain focused on him. “Allie would hate you for this, just like she would hate me.”

The man laughs. "Oh, probably," he replies, shrugging. That doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. After a minute, he does step off of Lux's hand, who breathes heavily as the pain leaves them feeling horribly dizzy.

”And yet you seem to care for her.” He tries to dig under the man’s skin.

"Hm, she's cute. Smart." He looks down at the barely aware bard and hums. "This one's cute too, but more fun for me than Allie would be."

”She’ll continue to view you as a father, like a duckling falling prey to a wolf. You’re no better than me.” He spits at the ground near Ben’s shoes, and glares defiantly at the man. Focus the pain on him. He deserved it.

Ben smiles. "Choose me a number between One and Seven, won't you?"

"One." He glares at him still, trying to get under the man’s skin.

"Mhm," he hums in a sing–song manner and steps over to Luxus's left leg. He kneels down and begins applying the same pressure he had to Luxus's arm to the upper thigh bone. "A good choice, White."

Lawrence grimaces. “Get away from him, I deserve this, not him.”

"Oh, you'll have your turn. Don't get impatient now."

He continues to glare. “Get the nurse in, then.” He sounds more panicked than angry, desperate.

Ben ignores him for six minutes. Then the snap, a louder one than the arms had made, and Luxus doesn't cry out this time but only a choked exhale, breathing labored.

Lawrence’s eyes widen again, and he makes a very poor decision “NURSE ELLIE!”

He laughs, shaking his head. "You really want someone shot, don't you, White?"

”I want for you to hurt me, I was the one who pushed at Weisser’s buttons earlier, why he was in a sour mood to begin with.”

"Oh, but I am. I don't even have to touch you to make you beg, meine schönheit." He glances to Luxus and then to Lawrence as he steps up and looks the man in the eye, smiling kindly still. "Next time you act out and I'm called here, I won't be as pleasant, I can promise you that."

”Please...” He looks up, and shuts his eyes, preparing himself to be in pain.

Ben catches Luxus starting to drift a bit in the corner of his eye and he heads over, leaning down to gently hold the bard's face. "Ah-ah-ah, keep awake now, meine libeling."

Luxus pauses at the soft touch, keening quietly and looking at the man, dazed.

Lawrence keeps his eyes held shut, and drops his head low.

Ben smiles to Lux and gives them a pat on the cheek before pulling back and over to Lawrence. "Guess who's turn it is now, meine schönheit."

Luxus whimpers when the man's touch is drawn away.

He sucks in a breath, and looks up to the man.

"Up we go," he says, holding out a hand to Lawrence to help him stand.

Lawrence takes it, unquestioningly.

Ben helps the man to his feet and gives him a smile. He begins humming a song quietly and pulls Lawrence's hand up above him high enough that he toes can barely touch the ground, easy enough due to his strength and being taller than the man. He then takes out an item and affixes Lawrence to dangle by his manacles in such a way with an Immovable Rod.

He dangles, and his breath hitches at being held aloft, preparing mentally for pain.

Ben smiles to himself, sighing contently. "This is a fun one. Did you know that if I leave you like this long enough you'll suffocate to death? Your breathing would just get shallower and shallower and then..." He makes a 'tsk' and laughs lightly.

"But don't worry, that'll take awhile and while we have time..." He steps back a few paces and takes out the same pistol as before. "Let's do some target practice, ja?"

His breath hitches, and he shuts his eyes, screwing them shut tight. “Please...meine herr…”

"Should've brought my rifle," he sighs and shrugs. "Oh well." He takes quick aim and fires off two shots.

Lawrence cries out in pain, snapping his eyes shut as his head lulls forward. He’s been shot before, he knew what it felt like, and it hurt nonetheless. It wasn’t the gentle, burning pain, followed by scarring that Luxus had so delicately done..That had comforted him, he had felt cared for..No, this was just burning, searing. Hearing the other man call him his beauty…

Ben takes a moment to aim for a certain spot and fires off one more shot.

The shot hits exactly where he'd wanted it to and it tears through Lawrence's right elbow joint, badly damaging it and definitely shattering the bones there.

His arm goes limp, and the chains are afixed tight to the immovable rod, his body drops slightly and dislocates his shoulder, causing another whine of pain.

Ben grins at this, looking ecstatic. "Ah! Wunderbar!" He laughs brightly, headed over to Lawrence and grabbing the Immovable Rod, but not yet deactivating it, leaning in close to Lawrence. "You've done very well, meine schönheit," he says, voice soft, almost comforting sounding.

”D-danke sc-schon meine h-herr.."

The man smiles and deactivates the item, letting Lawrence fall limply at his feet.

The second he drops, Lawrence sinks to his knees infront of the man, looking up to him, expectantly, waiting for more pain, his breathing ragged and forced.

He hums before speaking up. "Pick a number between 1 and 4 for me, ja?"

”D-d-drei, m-meine h-herr.”

He hums again, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Wunderbar," Ben says and ruffles Lawrence's hair like one would to a child, holstering his pistol once more and headed over to the door. "Now, let's not have another mishap, ja?" He steps out and shuts the door behind him without waiting for an answer.

[silenceinthenull]

Swapped

So, I just saw someone post something about Gordon and benrey swapping bodies and it made me remember this little thing I did a while back. I had totally forgotten about it. I decided to post it here because I thought it was an interesting concept.

The first thing he noticed when he wakes up is how everything aches. He knew the ground was uncomfortable but he didn't think it would fuck him up this bad... until he realizes he can feel the ground... not the ground through the HEV suit gloves but the actual ground... he jolts up only to crumple back into himself. That was far too fast to be normal and his bones ache even more.

"Hello Gordon! It would appear you and I have swapped bodies!"

He blinks at that and looks up at... himself... he's very confused for a moment before what dr. Coomer actually said sets in... is this how dr. Coomer lives?

"I'm sorry for the pain my friend, I just took the opportunity to dispose of some of my clones while in this much more spry form! I simply forgot you would feel everything they felt."

He slowly stands up, wobbling a bit as all his movements seem more robotic and sharp now.

"It's... it's okay dr. Coomer. I'm just glad you don't always feel like this... so how did this happen?"

"We seem to have stumbled upon the black mesa mental manipulation experiments! More specifically you were hit with what has been labeled the swap gun! I was never informed how far they got into these experiments."

Gordon looks at himself. He never noticed before how absolutely ripped dr. Coomer was... it was kind of terrifying... but as the pain faded he was glad for it. He was glad dr. Coomer was so strong, if he wasn't they would have lost him long ago.

"Where are the others?"

"They feel down the shaft!"

He points to a flooded elevator shaft on the other side of the room. Gordon approaches it, only to be pushed in. His body seemed to react immediately as he dived in, swimming around the busted elevator at the bottom into the hall below and up a second elevator shaft into a new room where bubby and Tommy sat, talking about beyblades or something... or test tube babies/puppies... Gordon honestly couldn't tell.

Something pushes him out of the water and he looks over, confused. Oh. Dr. Coomer, in his body, climbs out of the shaft with ease, picking Gordon up and carrying him to the others... holy shit how did Coomer make his body so strong.

"Were you aware the power movement function on your suit was deactivated Gordon?"

"... my what?"

"Your power movement function! ..."

He starts rambling about the function Gordon didn't even know he had as if he was reading off another one of his wikipedia articles. He sits Gordon next to the others and does an awkward squat. It's very hard to sit in that suit...

"Gordon, I'm uncomfortable."

"Yeah... it helps if you use an actual chair, or just lay out..."

Dr. Coomer flops face first onto the floor.

Gordon groans, just knowing his nose is going to hurt when he gets his body back... if he gets it back anyway...

And he's suddenly laying on the floor, nose uncomfortably pressed against the concrete. He slowly stands up.

"Hello Gordon! I'm comfortable!"

"... me too dr. Coomer. Me too."

Gordon was getting tired this. One more claymore and he was going to lose his fucking mind! He peeked around the corner, looking for any more of those telltale blue lasers. Only to be very startled when he was sudden standing behind himself and he just pulled the trigger, watching as a bullet whizzed past his own head detonating a claymore just out of range of hurting any of them.

He froze for a second as everything seemed to move in slow motion, soldiers rushing towards them as the dust settles and without thinking he pulls the trigger again, barely even having to think about aiming everyone who was rushing them almost immediately drops.

He takes a deep breath and there's a quiet electrical buzzing in his ear from the rails below them as he looks at the others, coomer, bubby and himself, meaning he's in Tommy's body... everything felt... different, but in a way he couldn't describe. Things he didn't even notice before were suddenly at the forefront of his mind, like the way the now empty gun in his hands clicked quietly as he continued to pull the trigger, or the way standing on the electric rail actually felt... really nice... or how that electric buzzing from the rail wouldn't stop!

He got off the rail but it didn't help. Why was it suddenly so loud? He covered his ears but it really didn't help. He pressed the clicking gun to his head and that blocked out some of the noise but it was still there.

"It's so quiet... is it always like this for you mr. Freeman?"

He looks at Tommy.

"I... I guess? It's... its different. So loud... so constant... how can you stand... how do you think... how do you live like this?"

It was so much he just wasn't to rub his ears until they stopped working... Tommy quickly pulls him away from the rails. The pressure of the hand wrapped around his wrist feels... nice... but wrong at the same time. He doesn't understand.

Tommy reaches into Gordon's coat pocket and pulls out what looks like the launcher of a beyblade. He gently takes it and does the ripping motion and suddenly all Gordon can focus on is that sound. He quickly takes the toy and starts doing the motion over and over, blocking out the rail and making the most heavenly sound he's ever heard over and over.

Gordon is immediately pulled out of it when dr. Coomer puts a hand on his shoulder and he immediately feels very wrong. He moves out from under the hand and stares at him, confused.

"Are you alright Gordon?"

"I don't... know... everything seems like it's too much!"

Even speaking felt so wrong! The words leaving his mouth felt bad! He covers his mouth, quietly stomping his foot. That helped. That thud in his leg. That helped.

"You need to stop mr. Freeman. You're going to hurt yourself. Stomping like that isn't the best stim."

Gordon looks at him, confusion clear on his face.

"I know it feels good, but you're damaging the muscles."

Benrey walks over, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Tommy! What's up bro? Rails getting to be too much? Need some soda to chill?"

He stops in front of him with a smile, not a smirk or anything mocking like he would give Gordon and holds out a soda.

"That's a great idea! Drink that mr. Freeman! It will help!"

He's still confused, and benrey is too now, looking between Gordon and Tommy. Gordon takes the soda and opens it. Oh, nice sound, good. Oh, nice feeling! Better! The fizz touching his lips has him in heaven again and he can even relax a little. No wonder Tommy had soda for lunch.

Bubby huffs and walks ahead and Gordon feels bad for holding them up. So bad tears start welling up and he doesn't know why it hurts so much... benrey pulls out another soda and Gordon takes it without hesitation, trying to soothe the sadness that seemed to bubble up from nowhere. It... might of worked? He doesn't know because the next moment he's back in his body looking at Tommy quickly wipe up his tears.

"... is there any way we can help you manage that tommy?"

"I'm okay mr. Freeman... I know... I'm used to it."

He gives a reassuring smile and Gordon believes him, but wishes he could help more. He decides Tommy gets first dibs on soda from now on.

Gordon was in a tube... the last thing he remembered was the lights going out and then nothing... he looks around for a way out but he really was trapped. It was frustrating. He felt trapped and alone... eventually he heard voices, dr. Coomer, Tommy and... his own? Was he in bubby's body!? He didn't feel any different... soon they walked into view and he saw it... dear god...

"You just had to fuck up!"

Gordon jumps a bit and stares at himself.

"You couldn't just take your punishment like a man, could you!? Had to make me suffer in your place!"

"... you let them cut off my fucking hand!"

He remembers the voices after the lights went out, what bubby said... he remembers the pain.

"That wasn't the plan! They were just supposed to rough you up a but!"

"And!? You sold me out to the fucking military!"

And suddenly everything feels different. It feels wrong, everything hurts, he's lightheaded. He looks down before he registers anything else.

"And now I'm back in my fucking tube!"

He stares at the stump. He feels sick. He wobbles a bit but dr. Coomer catches him and brings him to the console. Gordon looks at it, seeing the release button and just pressing it.

"... you're just going to let me out?"

"... you suffered more then enough..."

And they moved on.

Gordon sighs as they headed down the elevator, clutching his aching stump. He was very Surprised to see the scientist. After everyone was introduced everything shifts again... he closes his eyes, please don't tell him he's in benrey... he slowly opens them and looks at himself... darnold? He turns back to his body who is looking around, shocked.

"... were you hit by the swap gun?"

"Yeah. Do you know anything about it?"

"Nope, just that sometimes you don't swap back... better fix up your body just in case then!"

He happily walks over to a barrel and easily picks it up, bringing it to his desk and laying it down so it's at a very specific angle before popping open a compartment on the suit Gordon didn't even know was there and pulling out... a silly straw?

And he just starts chugging... Gordon is actually impressed! He downs the entire barrel in less then a few minutes. Gordon didn't even know his body could drink that much that quickly... and as soon as he finishes Gordon is back in his body... just in time for the pain...

Gordon was getting tired of random swaps with people, so he starts experimenting. With dr. Coomer's help he has figured out that a swap is initially when he feels helpless, exhausted and/or extremely afraid. He wonders if there's a way to weaponize this? He doesn't have long to wonder though when they run into a particularly irritating soldier once again, this time he's holding a fucking dog hostage and the second Gordon sees that it happens. He looks at himself and at Coomer, who immediately understands what happened and tackles his body to the ground. Gordon grins and gets off the elevator, bringing the remote for the turrets to Tommy.

"For once that had excellent timing."

"Huh?"

Benrey is suddenly there and very confused?

"... forzen... bro... why are you here? Aren't you still pissed about that irate gamer thing?"

Forzen starts ranting from beneath Coomer and benrey pouts a bit before seeming to realize what's happening, before pretending he didn't realize and going up to Gordon and kissing him straight on the lips.

"Sorry, we aren't working out." And he walks away, leaving everyone stunned.

"I dumped you ass yesterday you angry video game nerd fanboy freak!"

Everyone is immediately looking at forzen again, giving benrey the opportunity to sneak away and melt a bit as he internally squeals in delight. He kissed feetman! And feetman doesn't know he knew! He got to kiss his crush before they have to... end his game... he's not letting that spoil his mood. He revels.

Gordon returns to his body a few moments later and forzen bolts.

Gordon was fucking tired as they approached the scientists, exhausted when they told him what he had to do, and done when the mystery briefcase man showed up again... and that's when it happened. Everything made sense, he felt powerful, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted!!!

And then he was back to normal. He looks at the man, who he now knew went by G-man Coolatta... Tommy's dad is creepy and all powerful... Gordon was just going to do what the guy wanted. He did as he was told.

Gordon was exhausted, afraid and helpless. He was honestly Surprised the swap only just happened. It felt... strange. His size felt too small, his shape felt wrong and it felt like he was wearing a full body suit... what is benrey? He stared down at his own body as the other's panicked and benrey just stared back.

"... hug?"

At first he wanted to say fuck no but... that was his pleading face... benrey genuinely just wanted a hug and became he was in Gordon's body he could read him like a book... he gently picked benrey up.

"... what do you really want?"

"... you shouldn't be here bro."

He looked scared. He looked hurt. He looked... lonely... Gordon gently placed benrey against his chest. He can't really hug benrey when he was this big, but benrey could hug him... and he did... and it was really nice... Gordon wishes he knew how to take them all back. He wishes he could soothe benrey's fears and loneliness...

He gently picks up the other members of the science team, looking for there they needed to go. He set them all down once he found it, and looked for a way to follow them, Surprised he hadn't swapped back yet.

"How do I make myself small again?"

"Huh? Just... just want it..."

He didn't know what that meant... after a moment of trying he seemed to do it, becoming roughly benrey's current size. They all move forward, together.

They don't swap back until the boss fight... it hurts when it happens. It feels like he's being ripped out of benrey's body and forced back into his own. Gordon feels sick when he realizes why... they had to kill benrey. If they didn't they would never get out...

"What happens if we don't fight? Do we really have to?"

"Yeah bro... gotta... gotta be the bad guy. Gotta be mean..."

"I don't want to do this."

"Doesn't... doesn't matter bro... I'm sorry..."

He doesn't hold back...

~~~~epilogue~~~~~

I'm gonna do the epilogue now.

It had been about a week since the party when Gordon's head started pounding.

"Uh, hey bro... been a while hasn't it..."

And Gordon doesn't even question it. He's too relieved. To happy in that moment. They didn't kill benrey! Or... they did... but he was still around!

"Yeah feetman! Hitched a ride when my body kinda fizzled. Think I could... maybe stick around? Keep you from having anymore... dick slips and shit..."

Gordon just laughs and nods to himself. He can't wait to tell the others. Benrey can't either a little bit of sweet voice flows out of Gordon's mouth, shocking him a bit.

"Oh cool! I can still do that!"

And Gordon just rolls with it. Why the fuck not you know? Makes as much sense as anything else he's been through. He opens his mouth and just lets it flow! His room quickly fills up with it.

[itswhumpday]

Ersatz Emotion | Chapter 1

TW: Nudity. Bleeding. Implied stabbing. 

Out of all of the lousy jobs they could get as a mechatronic technician, Caretaker hated working for the police most. 

They’d always bring in cleaning bots with pieces of people inside, cooking bots that had cooked pieces of people or pet bots that were battered beyond belief but had still managed to chomp up pieces of a person. 

But above all, Caretaker hated when they brought in androids. 

Because, you see, at this point in time, you can’t know what’s an android and what’s a human until you’ve had a closer look. So at any given time, officers would barge inside dragging androids across the floor like you would a large trash bag, or on top of their shoulders like a hunting trophy. 

And it wasn’t that Caretaker was one of those android rights activists, but there was one fact: androids were marvelous pieces of human ingenuity and at least deserved to be treated with respect. 

Caretaker should have known this one would be different when the officer that brought them in was being careful for once. They brought it in like they would carry a sleeping person, in their arms, wrapped around in some old blanket. And as they set it on the counter, it even looked like one. It was definitely a top of the line model, with super advanced programming and delicate microstructures. The most realistic thing Caretaker had ever seen. 

“Must’ve cost a fortune.” Caretaker said, touching the soft skin of the face. It even had freckles. It was motionless and grey, lips and eyelids with a bluish tint. That was probably due to the deactivation of the energy core, that wasn’t sending signals to the fluid pump. Looked a lot like a corpse if you’d never seen a deactivated android before. 

“We wouldn’t know. The owner went missing.” The police officer was looking everywhere but the android. They clearly weren’t used to such realism. No one really was. This level was really new. The android being completely nude under the blanket didn’t help. 

“Do you know what’s the damage?” 

“No idea. It was already broken when we arrived at the apartment.” 

“Anything I should know about the owner?” 

“A rich type. Worked with those things, that’s why that one is so new.” The officer said, risking a look down at the android. They quickly looked away, shaking their head. 

Caretaker nodded. “I’ll take a look at it. When do you need it?” 

 “As soon as possible.” 

Of course. Of course it was. 

Caretaker clears their table in the back before bringing in the broken android. They had been working on other things, but their regulation required they attended to police cases earlier than other machines. 

As they raised the android in their arms, they tried to suppress a shiver when they found the exact weight of a human body. The head tumbled back, exposing the frail neck. The eyes unveiled slightly, revealing the white sclera of eyes. Their lips parted faintly, showing the glint of something blue inside. 

They lay the android carefully on the table. They rolled it to the side, looking for the spot at the back of their neck that would allow them to peel off the skin and turn on maintenance mode. It's right there, where the neck meets the back of the head, right under the hair. They peel a little bit of it and poke the small button with the thinnest tool they had. They press it for ten seconds and the android’s body stiffens. Maintenance mode protects all of the fluid inside the skin so Caretaker can peel it off and assess the damage without losing fluid.

They laid the android back on their back, watching. Now that they’re close, they can see damages to the skin, here and there. They have a dark tint, but they’re almost gone now. If Caretaker didn’t know any better, they’d think it was bruises. 

That couldn’t be, though. If you’re buying a machine, why would you want it to show damage if it got it?

They take a knife and start to feel for the entrance to the chest plaque. It’s normally along the collarbones. They push the tip of the knife in carefully until they find the correct place. They follow it to the left, and then down across the belly and all the way around until they’ve cut a squared shape in the skin. Since maintenance mode was on, no blood came out - but it was still weird to cut skin open. 

Caretaker peels it to the side, revealing the chest plate. Although it’s cavity was just like the ones they’d already worked on, it had a completely different design. Normally, it was a metal plate covering the crucial parts of an android. This one, however, has been shaped like it would be in a human body. Looked like a ribcage. 

“WHPEE-7” Caretaker reads from the inscription near where the sternum would be. “You must be really new… I don’t even have a manual for you yet.” 

Not much varied from model to model. Most upgrades in realistic androids like these were in the processing units, new programming features, like daydreaming or lip biting. One or two core pieces changed every few years, but nothing too hard to get if they didn’t have it. This one, however, didn’t seem all that different from other WHPEE models they’d worked before in the past - except for how complex they looked. 

Caretaker was able to find the button to open the chest plate where it was normally located. The faux ribs retracted on themselves, moving out of the way in a display of marvelous engineering. They looked down, noticing all of the pieces were the same, but arranged in ways that resembled a human body more. The pump on the left side of the chest like a heart, the energy core split in two units like lungs. Even the mess of cables was organized to look like a stomach. They’d been made to look as human as it got. But what for? No one was supposed to look at the inside… 

And it was badly damaged too. Caretaker soon found the source of the stains they’d seen in the skin. Fluid had spread all over the cavity, coming from some unknown location. It would take forever to clean it up - and it might have fried something. But they’d have to do it before even trying to turn it on and run a diagnostics. 

Caretaker sighed. It would be a long night. 

***

Bit by bit, Caretaker took out the pieces, cleaned the fluid in them and put them back in place. 

Androids like these weren’t made to be taken to maintenance places like Caretaker’s.  They weren’t machines that you could simply take apart. Most things were industrially produced to not be moved and it took way too long to mess with them - and every time risking to permanently damage it. No, androids like these were normally sent back to the factory, where specialists would have all of the necessary tools to remake them from scratch if it was necessary. 

Although, in cases like these, it was probably cheaper to recycle the android, make a new one and implant some core memories. Memories were tricky to program into a new body, but still less tricky than messing with the insides. 

Still, Caretaker didn’t tell their clients that. They told the investigators it would take longer - and they didn’t know how long. They were intrigued. The WHPEE factory website didn’t say anything about this model - and it was a peculiar one. If it wasn’t even out in the market, why was it in someone’s home? 

And there was the matter of the damages… 

The first and most apparent one was the crushed windpipe. It was the entrance of air that led to the energy core, where it would be transformed in kinetic energy by very small devices. And by crushed Caretaker meant… Really crushed, like a soda pop can. Thankfully, they had  the same one as the WHPEE-3, the first one of the line with this kind of energy core. Thankfully, it wasn’t the energy core itself. Caretaker had never seen a smaller or more advanced one, let alone have one to spare. 

The other damaged pieces were very similar: warped, torn and cut open. Caretaker could only imagine what could have caused such a thing. At first they thought it might have been an accident, until oxidized fluid from several occasions told them that this android probably had been operating with such damages for a while before stopping functioning. They wondered why the PAIN sensors didn’t alert the owner. 

Except… If it had. 

Either way, it wasn’t their place to keep concocting stories. Finally, after a long week, everything was clean. They took short breaks from the project to finish other overdue repairs, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else when there was a body stretched over your workspace. 

Keeping maintenance mode on, they pressed the reset button on the fluid pump - an odd choice, since the button was normally in the energy core. There was the glint of a light and then of another, while the android turned on. Normally, when maintenance mode was on, they automatically ran diagnostics when restarting, so they connected their monitor with one of the info-cables they could find running inside of the chest panel. 

Lines of diagnostic flooded the screen in red and green. But Caretaker didn’t even have to look at it to know something was wrong. As the pump began to work and the energy core started to fill in and out, the android opened their eyes and gasped. 

A painful sound escaped their throat as their arms started to move, eyes widening in what could only be described as fear. They looked down at themselves and touched the skin peeled to the side and let out a scream. Their head tumbled back, eyes closing. Caretaker almost fell out of their chair trying to pull back. That’s not how PAIN sensors were, they were supposed to just be alarms to the owners, they weren’t supposed to have programming like this. 

This was clearly… Homebrew. 

The sound of the breathing cycles were troubled as Whumpee opened their eyes again and looked around. They found Caretaker. The screen popped a warning. DANGER. DANGER. DANGER. ENERGY CORE DAMAGED. Their hand hovered in that direction but fell flat, weak. As Caretaker watched horrified, Whumpee coughed. Blue fluid came out of their mouth. Caretaker looked back at the chest cavity. There it was, a leak in the energy core. They thought it was a design element, a small empty path amongst the pieces. But now they saw… It had the perfect shape of a blade. 

Caretaker ran back to the table, grabbing a cloth and pressing it over the leak. It soaked up the cloth, but the energy core was able to run a little smoother, expanding and contracting. 

The Whumpee closed their eyes, their troubled breathing filling the workshop. Caretaker saw a glint and couldn’t believe their eyes. The eye cleaners were spilling out. Crying. Someone had programmed this WHPEE-7 to cry. Why would anyone want that? A mix of a groan and a sob came of their mouth, shaking their chest. 

“P-please. Don’t move.” Caretaker said, holding the cloth in place. 

Although the color had returned to their face, with the speed of the leak and maintenance mode activated (and therefore the fluid stored in the skin not circulating to the energy core), it was draining again. Caretaker checked the diagnostics. It was still at 67%. If they could hold a little longer… 

But it didn’t seem like it would. With a damaged energy core and the limited supply of fluid circulating, the fluid pump was working faster and faster to keep the body energized. Whumpee’s arm tried to touch the left side of their chest, sobbing weakly and furrowing their brows. 

That’s it. It was too weird. Caretaker had to deactivate it. They grab their keyboard, leaving the cloth aside. They push the diagnostics (72%) aside to a smaller window and open the access to the mainframe. A block showed on screen. 

“What?!” This is not factory protocol. All mainframes should be able to be accessed by technicians. But whoever programmed this android to feel pain, programmed it not to accept overrides from non-authorized machines. 

 Caretaker jumped when their monitor was pushed aside. They looked at Whumpee, startled. They’re weakly grabbing at the soaked cloth, the only thing keeping them from deactivation. The fluid has already spread over the pieces Caretaker had so carefully cleaned. 

“Get… Out… Of… My… Head…” Whumpee managed to say, coughing up more fluid. “Help… Me.”

Caretaker checks the diagnostics. 79%. All the police need is the memories. Diagnostics makes a backup copy of the last week of the android when it’s finishing up, so the technicians can know the cause of the damage and if there is a need to send the android back to the factory. They just need to keep the android active until then, that’s their job. 

But when they press the cloth against the energy core, the Whumpee’s weak hand holds it in place. They choked in pain, but didn’t move. 

“Who did this to you?” Caretaker asked, looking around to try and find another cloth. They have some fluid laying around, but there’s no point inserting it with maintenance mode on. 

“Th—” The Whumpee is shaken by a slight tremor. “The bastard.” 

“Who? Your owner?”

“Th— The son.” Whumpee managed to say, their voice dying inside of their throat.

84%. The screen continued to alert to fatal energy core damage. 

“Was he the one who damaged you?” Caretaker demanded. 

A new alert popped on the screen: dangerously low fluid circulation. Shutting down the processing unit. Conserving energy. 

“Prog— Programmed. Then… Damaged—” Whumpee choked on the blue fluid that came out of their mouth and coughed. Then gasped and their eyes rolled back. Their hand, on top of Caretaker’s, went limp. The other mechanical elements kept working though, even if a bit dysfunctionally from the leak. 

Unconscious. Someone had programmed the Whumpee to get unconscious - or at least look that way. They’d seen energy conservation modes before, but they’ve always looked like deactivation. Someone had programmed this one to look like unconsciousness. This case was getting weirder by the minute. 

93%. 

Just a little longer and they’d have something to give the police and it wouldn’t be their problem anymore. They could go back to fixing simpler machines - machines that didn’t cry from PAIN. 

99%. They were drenched in fluid. It was filling up the chest cavity despite their best efforts. It wasn’t ideal, but most of these components were fluid proof. But something should not be properly patched, because there was a blue glint of something electric. 

Caretaker’s rubber gloves protected them when there was an electric shock that made the WHPEE-7’s body spasm. Their head lolled to the side, fluid dripping out of their mouth and slowly coming out of their nose. The pump stops. Seconds later, the energy core. Whumpee turns grey again. 

And the monitor had stopped at 99%. 

[risthebrave]

day 04; “wolves”

snippet; mandalorian au (contains minor spoilers to show; vaguely set between episode 3 + 4 of season 1) - don’t need to have seen to read

It’s not until Harry’s an hour away from Nevarro that he finally allows himself to loosen his grip on the accelerator, the tension in his body draining out and quickly replaced with relief. It’s hardly an improvement considering that his worry and unease still lingers.

His brothers and sisters are still down there, after all. They came to his defense with valor and bravery, but some of them will pay the price for that act with their blood. Even then, they’ll have to relocate the covert, pack up and move everything all because Harry went against his assignment. The thought grates inside him, prodding at his lungs and temples until he pushes it away.

Swallowing, he glances back at the kid. It seems unbothered by the events that transpired, green ears twitching as it looks around in wide-eyed curiosity. It’s unharmed and uninjured, but Harry still doesn’t know the state of its mental wellbeing or what Dr. Pershing did to it.

Still, he doesn’t dwell on it for too long, pulling up a map to chart a course deep into the Outer Rim and far, far away from Nevarro. It hits him then that he’s actually on the run. He’s a wanted man, the crew of angry bounty hunters he left behind being the least of his worries now that he’s essentially stolen property from the Empire.

All his life, he’s been the hunter. Swift and steady, always alert and aware, always having the upper hand. But for a second down there on Nevarro, he had been the prey, a piece of meat surrounded by a pack of starving wolves. And he had tried to hold his ground, but it had been too much for him. If the others hadn’t arrived, he wouldn’t be here right now. The realization is grim, and what’s even more unsettling is that he’s lost his number one source of jobs and money.

The only things he has are the things on his person and whatever’s lingering on his ship, all other belongings back on Nevarro with no hopes of getting to them in the near future. There was no time for preparations or planning things out, and now he’s cruising through the galaxy with no idea where he’s going next.

Harry’s always preferred being alone, but this is something else entirely. His fellow Mandalorians can’t help him and he can’t go back to the planet he calls his home. He is running from the wolves, and whether he regrets his choices or not, he must now deal with the consequences.

“Got any idea where we’re going, kid?” he asks aloud, glancing back at the creature who tilts its head in confusion. He sighs, figuring he’ll get used to the silence eventually.

He doesn’t expect the kid to turn and reach for the side panel, pressing down on a button that activates the sensory lights.

Frowning, Harry turns it off from the matching control on his arm panel, but the creature just presses another button, one for another set of lights, before shuffling closer.

“Stop touching things,” Harry scolds, turning it off with a huff.

The kid blinks at him, face impassive and expressionless. But then its small hand inches out and presses yet another button, this one for the engine.

Eyes widening, Harry scrambles to deactivate it as the ship jerks, sighing in frustration as he picks the kid up and sets it on his lap so he can prevent it from messing around with the controls.

He pulls up the map again, focusing on a planet lurking far in the outskirts of the rim. “Let’s see... Sorgan... Looks like there’s no star port, no industrial centers, no population density… Real backwater skughole, which means it’s perfect for us.” He glances down at the kid. “You need to lay low and stretch your legs out for a couple months. How does that sound, you little womp rat?”

It blinks at him, confused.

“No one’s going to find us here,” Harry says decidedly, setting the coordinates and doing the calculations so he can put the ship on autopilot. He needs to do an appraisal of his resources, taking stock of what he has and what he doesn’t.

He leaves the kid on a seat, belt strapped on so it won’t mess with anything while Harry’s away. Maybe if he’s lucky it’ll fall asleep, but he’s not taking any chances.

A quick run through of the cargo hold tells him he doesn’t have much food on board, but he’s not too worried since Sorgan is less than four hours away and he’s feeling fine. He’s reaching for the rungs for the ladder, ready to go back up and check the upper levels, when it happens.

Harry stills, the skin on the back of his neck prickling with awareness as his ears catch it.  

A sound.

Not a creak or a drone or anything mechanical - an inhale. An inhale from a living creature. Harry doesn’t make any sudden movements, fingers curling around the ladder as he waits for another noise. Even though his hearing is unusually precise, there’s still a possibility he imagined it, still off-centered after the events of the day, but his instincts are telling him he’s not. He keeps his body language relaxed and unguarded, stepping up onto the ladder and beginning to climb really slowly.

Something shifts, and he hears a sigh. A sigh of relief that drifts in from the weapons storage which he hadn’t checked on his run-through.

He jumps down from the ladder without making a sound, striding to the storage compartment with quick, silent steps. An intruder, his mind is repeating. There’s an intruder on his ship. His hand reaches down for a gun as he peers into the cramped space.

There’s not really much room to hide in here so Harry sees him immediately. A boy crouched close to the ground, back pressed to the wall and eyes shut. They flicker open when Harry clicks the safety off the weapon.

Blue eyes, Harry notes. Blue eyes lined with dark, exhausted lines, and now layered in distinct fear. Pink lips pursed into a grimace. He’s young, Harry realizes. Around his age or a year or two less. He’s dressed in inconspicuous beige and white clothing that doesn’t fit quite right, baggy on his small frame. He’s also seemingly unarmed, but Harry raises his own gun nonetheless.

Inhaling sharply, the boy holds his hands up in surrender, shrinking away from it. “Wait,” he says hurriedly, eyes widening. “Don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot. I just have a proposition.”

“You’re on my ship,” Harry says. It comes out more surprised rather than accusing like he intended, mind still catching up with him, reeling from this new development. There’s an actual person on his ship. How had he missed this?

The boy shakes his head. “Listen, please don’t do anything.” He stands up on shaky feet, hands still held out in front of him in a plea. “I needed to escape so I hid away on your ship. I just need passage, alright? Passage to Tatooine.”

Harry stares at him in disbelief. “No.”

“I can pay you,” the boy says, fumbling for the small leather bag strapped around his middle. “I have money -”

“No,” Harry repeats, more firm. He’s angry, angry at himself for slipping up and not noticing sooner. This boy could be anyone - another bounty hunter even. He looks frightened and harmless, all soft edges and delicate features, but Harry knows better than to take appearances to heart. He presses the gun closer to the boy, watching him suck in a breath, face paling. “Give me one reason I should believe you’re not some sort of spy.”

december word prompt challenge 12/04/20

[bonesaldente]

Caliginous I Darth Maul x reader

Chapter 12: The Desert

read this on ao3

last chapter

chapter overview

words: 3200 +

____

“I know what you’re thinking, but my master was highly pleased with our work on Cato Neimoidia. And now that Gunray is Viceroy, we can finish one more job for them, to ensure their future cooperation.”

“But two Jedi, not to mention her own guards? It just seems like an awfully risky job.”

“They won’t be expecting me. I’ll catch them off-guard.”

“Wait a minute.” You straighten your posture that was previously slouched over, leaning on the pilot seat’s backrest. “What do you mean ‘expecting you’? We’re gonna take them on together, are we not?”

Maul heaves a sigh and turns to you.

“You said it yourself: Force users don’t fight fair - It would be dangerous for you.”

Your jaw drops.

“So you’re telling me I should stay behind and watch as you face them? Like some kind of helpless damsel?”

“I know you’re far from helpless. But they have an unfair advantage.” He pauses. “Please.”

You didn’t expect him to sound so pleading, so sincere, and the anger in you dies down, leaving room for rationality: He isn’t entirely wrong, and the fact that he obviously worries about you induces a fuzzy feeling in you.

Your scowl turns into a grimace. “I have one condition.”

He looks at you expectantly.

“You have to keep helping me practice with the lightsaber. I want to be able to at least defend myself. Just in case.”

His face relaxes again, obviously not minding the request one bit.

“We’ll have time on Tatooine for that.”

Tatooine. You’ve been on the outer rim planet only once, but one time is one time too many if you are asked.

Wearing heavy equipment makes one try to stray far from desert planets. The kriffing sand makes you slow, gets into your boots and blasters, makes your knives go dull, and it is still found inside your pockets for weeks after.

Needless to say, you are not thrilled to be flying to Tatooine.

“How much time do we have?” You hope it’s not too much. The sooner you get off that rock again, the better.

“A day or two, most likely. Depending on how quickly we’ll be able to locate them.”

You exhale audibly, praying you’ll make quick work of the two Jedi.

“So we- You kill the Jedi. Then what?”

You are slightly displeased still, having been left out of the planning, getting all information on a ‘need to know’ basis.

“We take the Queen of Naboo and bring her to Theed. The Trade Federation wants her to sign a treaty there.”

“Wonderful. Politics,” you mumble, then proceed to rub your temples. “Let me know when we arrive, I’m going to lay down for a while.” The prodding headache from the intrusion to your mind still hasn’t faded and serves as a constant reminder that your thoughts and memories don’t belong to you alone anymore. Weird; Before meeting Darth Sidious, you never really felt that way - like your thoughts would be used against you. Not even in the beginning, before you … got closer to Maul. But now, every idea, every little daydream (especially the ones surrounding a certain zabrak and his athletic body) is accompanied with a surge of embarrassment when you picture the dark lord of the sith going through your mind again.

You can only hope he won’t deem it necessary all too soon, if at all.

Maul shoots you a slightly concerned look.

“I wish he hadn’t invaded your mind like that.” He admits after a pause.

“So do I… ” Is all you say in response, scrunching up your nose. “So do I.”

*

You have hardly even stepped out of the ship and you already want to turn around and go back.

The suns are searing hot and the day hasn‘t even set completely yet, there is not even the tiniest breeze and nothing but desert safe for what looks to be a settlement in the distance, a mere dot on the horizon. You are still standing on the ramp and already feel sand settling in the wrinkles of your layered clothing.

“I despise this,” you mumble, “so, so much.”

Your companion swooshes past you, two probes levitating ominously behind him. He presses a few buttons on his wrist panel and they soar off into the distance.

“With the help of those we should be able to locate them soon. Then we can leave this place.“

“Marvellous. I think I‘ll just stay on the ship for as long as it‘s still cool inside.“

He shoots you a glance. ”You know, if you want to practice, this is as cool as it‘s going to get today.”

You groan inwardly, knowing that he is right, but also not feeling like stepping out into the desert at all.

”Probably,” you agree unwillingly. ”Give me a second and I’ll be ready.”

You disappear into the ship, gathering your lightsaber (you’ve taken to referring to it as ”yours” in your thoughts, despite the fact that it’s stolen from somebody who, too, stole it). In wise anticipation you take off your jacket, already knowing you‘re going to get a heat stroke if you wear anything over your tanktop. It’s bad enough that you don’t own any shorts, only heavy utility pants that - while much more practical and protective - get very, very hot.

 It’s undeniable that your lightsaber combat skills have improved considerably. You are starting to feel confident enough to incorporate some of the moves you learned with a sword in your fighting style, and you now have an accurate enough sense of the lightsaber to know how you can move and jump without letting the blade touch you. This changes up your technique vastly, going from awkward, shaky strikes to much more controlled, agile movements. Are you any match for Maul? No. Will you ever be? Probably not (and you can’t deny the fact that you feel frustrated that after training your whole life, there is a level you will never get to).

But will you be able to give any assailant hell?

You are certain of it.

 It doesn’t take long, however, for you to become agitated with the sand that keeps on giving in under your steps, slows you down and piles up inside your boots, as well as the heat that is making beads of sweat appear on your forehead.

Maul is executing a series of strikes that, despite you blocking them, are forceful enough for you to have to take a few steps back - and this is where the uneven ground becomes a real problem: Unaware of the deepening behind you, you yelp and stumble backwards, thankfully having the sense to deactivate your lightsaber before you fall once and for all.

As soon as your body lands in the sand, it is everywhere. In your eyes, between your toes, in your hair, under your shirt. You lie still for a moment, trying to calm the frustration, but to no avail. While pushing yourself off the ground with little grace, you are angrily shaking the hem of your top in an attempt to feel less restricted, less hot, and most of all less sandy. You kick at the sand, once, twice, as if every grain has personally done you wrong. A curse in your native language escapes your lips while you are quickly undoing your braid, trying to shake at least some of the forsaken substance out, but knowing well that you are still going to find it after multiple showers.

“I hate this!”

You kick your boots off and toss them somewhere close to the ramp. There is this pressing desire to destroy something pulsing through your veins - you need to take your frustration out on something.

“Come at me again.” Maul instructs you calmly upon witnessing your aggravation.

Now everything is boiling up, not only your hatred for desert planets but also your frustration at having to work under a ‘master’ again - feeling like somebody is always trying to control you. You don’t mind working with Maul, at all, but you do mind the fact that this Sidious is basically holding your life in his hands like a little bird; alive only because he chooses to let you live, still always ready to be crushed between his fingers. If you wanted to, you’re sure Maul would let you leave, but Sidious wouldn’t.

You allow yourself to let out your anger through jumps and hits and twirls, and the satisfying sound of sabers clashing is like music to your ears. The handle starts to feel like it’s attached to your body, an extension of your arm, the way it fits snugly in your hand and moves to your will. All inhibition out of fear of hurting yourself with the weapon fades away, and with it your ability to pace yourself - another jump, another backhand slash, your lightsabers colliding, and your energy is drained. It doesn’t take Maul much more effort to push you away.

You retract the blade in defeat, your legs wobbly with exhaustion, both physically and mentally.

Collapsing onto your knees, you exhale shakily.

“You have improved,” he remarks, stretching out his hand to help you back to your feet. “You learn fast.”

Still trying to catch your breath, you only manage to nod in appreciation of his praise. How is he so unaffected by both the heat and the physical exertion, while you are reaching the limits of your body?

A grain of sand that has snuck into your eye causes you to start blinking rapidly, rubbing your eye in an attempt to get it out. But your hands, too, are covered in sand.

“I really need a shower now.”

 The water does wonders in terms of instant anger and stress relief. It’s tempting to just stay in the refresher, where the temperature is controlled and where not everything is immediately covered in a layer of dust and sand.

But you can’t stay forever, so with a heavy sigh and in fresh, clean clothes, you open the door and reenter the ready room, surprised to find that the ramp is closed.

“Trying to keep the heat out.”

Maul’s voice from your left startles you. He is standing in the doorway that leads to the small storage space, still in the black robes he wore outside and looking like he himself is coated in a thin layer of dust.

“Oh. That’s good, that’s …” really considerate, when you think about it: He didn’t seem to mind the heat, and seeing as he was born on Dathomir, that makes sense too - but he knows you mind the temperatures. You gulp. “... nice,” you finish your sentence.

You notice water dripping from the ends of your hair, creating a damp spot on your shirt.

“Blast,” you mumble, rushing to your bag to find something to tie your hair up with.

You don’t even notice Maul is standing behind you until you lower your arms again, having thrown your hair in a lazy updo. Looking up over your shoulder, you give him a questioning look after seeing his concentrated gaze.

He catches a strand of hair that you missed between his fingers, holding it up to look at it intently.

“Your hair,” he mumbles, slowly stroking his thumb over it to feel the texture. “It’s soft.”

You never considered that the sensation could be new for him, but looking back, his hands did always end up buried in your hair whenever the two of you… got distracted. Heat rushes to your cheeks at his obvious fascination when his fingers graze the skin on your neck, but your flusteredness quickly subsides when you realize that he is still covered in dust.

You jump away from him, pointing your finger in a mock-threatening way.

“I just got cleaned up, so don’t even think about touching me.”

He flinches for the fraction of a second, then looks at you with arms crossed and mischief glinting in his eyes.

“You never seemed to mind me touching you before.”

Oh, you bastard.

You scowl.

“Well, I do now. There’s dust and sand all over you, and I just managed to scrub it all off of me.”

“If you say so,” Maul shakes his head in amusement, then proceeds to the refresher.

 With the water running again, you realize you have some free time.

“What to do, what to do…” you mumble as your eyes scan the room for a distraction.

Your gaze gets caught on an empty wooden crate that is standing in a corner innocently.

It’s been a while since you’ve done some target practice (For safety reasons you’ve decided it would be smarter not to throw knives in the confines of a moving spaceship), and that crate would make an excellent target.

Quickly you carve a small ‘X’ into the wood to replace the bull’s eye, then you place your makeshift target on a shelf to get it to a proper height.

Target practice has always been one of your favorite kinds of training. Probably, because you are good at it, and it doesn’t involve people, as opposed to sparring.

The first three throws are good and land in the center, right where you want them. For the next round, you decide to change things up and spin before throwing, giving yourself less time to aim but more momentum.

Quickly, you find yourself getting lost in the monotone practice, tunnel vision on your target the only thing that occupies your thoughts - it’s almost meditative

Time passes faster than you expect it to, and midthrow, you catch sight of Maul leaving the refresher.

Without a shirt on.

You miss the ‘X’ by a couple of inches, the blade boring itself into the very corner of the crate; the furthest you have missed it today. An annoyed sound leaves your mouth, though you can’t fully bring yourself to be frustrated with it when the reason for your miss is so well built.

You desperately try not to stare at him, though it certainly isn’t easy.

The final knife you throw hits the target dead-center again, and you mentally declare your practice session over, only now allowing yourself to look at him.

Maker, he’s attractive.

The black inkings on his crimson skin only seem to enhance the lines of muscles spanning across his torso and with the way his pants are sitting so low on his hips-

‘Don’t you dare read my mind,’ The thought is loud and insistent in your head - an attempt to protect your pride, because you would probably die of embarrassment if he knew you really found him this appealing.

To be fair, it’s been a while since you had some… alone time. You are hesitant about doing anything in the shower, because you are almost certain he’d be able to tell through your heightened emotions. But it is getting to you.

And his upper body being on display like that is not helping.

“Now that I am clean enough for you,” He takes slow, self-assured steps toward you, until he is so close that you are forced to look up to face him, his voice dropping to a rumble. “Maybe you’ll finally let me ... ”

He doesn’t finish what he is saying with words, instead meeting you halfway when you stand up on your tiptoes, lips melting together. Your hands roam over his bare torso, feeling old scars, but also raw power in the hard muscles that contract and relax under your touch.

Suddenly, he freezes.

“What’s wrong?” You breathe against his lips, sensing his abrupt unease.

“There are people nearby,” he pulls away with a frown, summoning his lightsaber and a coat with the force. “Stay here, I’ll go check the area and keep them away.”

You snatch a dagger from under your bed and place it on your belt, just in case someone gets close to the ship, while he opens the ramp and rushes off to the right, where you assume he can sense lifeforms closing in. You follow him down the ramp and stay just a few feet away from the ship, watching him cross a dune and disappear.

 It is quiet for a few minutes, whoever it was Maul felt must be far away enough to be out of your earshot.

A sudden clang from the front of the ship alarms you and you whip around, but see nobody. Cautiously, you crouch down and sneak around the ship, watching for an attacker, but the place where the sound originated is abandoned. Footprints in the sand trail the other way around the ship, meaning whoever is here could very well be…

behind you.

You catch the assailant’s hand just before it can wrap itself around your neck, twisting the wrist and forcefully throwing the creature to the ground, immediately recognizing the ghastly appearance of a Tusken Raider.

The sand person gets up before you can finish him and swings his spear your way, wildly, primitively. It’s easy to evade his attacks, and before the savage knows what’s happening, you’ve slit his throat.

The short lived fight leaves you slightly out of breath and on alert, your heart thumping fast in anticipation of another attack, but your gut tells you that this was the only danger lurking here.

“Ugh.”

You nudge the grotesque body with your foot, testing to feel its weight. The decision that the corpse is much too heavy for you to move without considerable effort is made fast, so you elect to leave it where it is and wait until Maul returns.

If it was really only the sand people, then you are not overly worried for his safety. They are brutal savages, yes, but they are not much of a threat for somebody like Maul (or you, for that matter).

 As expected, Maul’s return is fast.

“Sand people,” he utters.

“I know,” you say, gesturing to the leg that sticks out from around the corner. “I’ve had the pleasure already.”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“I did not feel the presence of one so close. I must be more vigilant in the future.”

It is evident that he blames himself for leaving you behind with an imminent threat, so you try to ease his mind.

“It was more annoying than anything else. I have faced bigger challenges than a Tusken Raider, believe me. Now, would you do me a favor and help me get rid of the body?”

He nods absentmindedly and lifts one hand, using the force to raise the body into the air while at the same time creating a hole in the ground, where the body lands with an unceremonious thud.

‘Convenient,’ you think to yourself, remembering all the times you’ve had to drag and lift bodies that by far exceeded your own body mass.

It’s around noon right now, and the sun is beating down on you two mercilessly. You are about to go back inside the ship, when a quiet whirring catches your attention.

“The probe!”

It flies straight to Maul, where it stops and starts a series of beeps that you assume are its way of transmitting information.

“We have the location of the Jedi,” Maul declares finally with a certain gravity to his voice. “Wait here. Please.”

You sigh. “You be careful, yes?”

“I don’t need to be careful,” He lifts his chain proudly, “It’s them who should be afraid.”

“I don’t doubt that. Just… come back fast, won’t you?” You can’t mask the fact that you feel hesitant to let him go on his own - that you feel worried about his safety.

“I will.” He sounds softer now, seeing your concern for him. “Until then,” he pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Then he’s gone.

____

next chapter

____

Reader doesn’t like sand. It's coarse, and rough, and irritating... and it gets everywhere.

I’m a sucker for throwing knives ever since I played Assassin’s creed syndicate (can you tell?). The stealth? The coolness? superb. Mwah.

This time less of a wait, though I can’t promise the same thing for the next chapter. I’m going to try to post it in less than one week, but you know how things get :,)

As always, thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

____

@princessayveke​ @spaghetti-666​ @noiralei​ @bagpipes606 @secretnerd00

[valkblue]

Being a Behavior technician requires a certain amount of dedication to the job — the rigorous type, bordeline rigid. That’s what is expected to be at peak efficiency regarding analysis protocols and diagnostics for host service and calibration.

For that, Vivian thinks she might be the worst tech in her department.

— masterlist, AO3

Chapter 2 on 12

Chapter wordcount: 3,340 Rating: General Warning: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ same as usual: swearing and technobabble!

Author’s notes: Bad behavior tech, bad!! 

Have a good time reading, and my askbox/messages are always open! 💙

— Chapter 2

There were some days, like this one, during which Vivian and her team were called back in the night; a group of guests went all trigger happy and their mess had to be cleaned up somewhere between the Abernathy Ranch and Las Mudas. And since the narratives and hosts had to be back in rotation asap, the techs’ nighttime was reduced without thinking twice.

Maybe it didn’t look like it, but this job was really taxing sometimes.

That being said, shortly after 6AM, Vivian went back to her room for a few extra and well deserved minutes of sleep before resuming her diagnostics routine. An hour and a big mug of coffee with cereals later, Vivian was back in the elevator which took her down to the Behavior department level.

In the soft lighted glass room, a host was sitting on a wheeled stool. The light brightened when Vivian entered.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," she said on a hushed voice as if she wanted no-one but the offline host to hear her while letting the glass panel shut down slowly behind her. "I had a rough night. Looks like you did too…"

Ironically, he hadn’t been part of this night’s massacre. No, all those involved were already back in rotation for quite some time. Her first subject of the day, however, had only been victim of his own storyline, needing only a quick check-up and Vivian’s all clear before being back on his loop.

She sat on the stool in front of the host, doing her best to ignore his nudity, and unfolded her tablet on her knees; she had to navigate through several indexes before connecting to his signal for a couple update history checkups.

"Bring yourself back online, please," she ordered, without raising her voice.

The command only seemed to take him out of his thoughts.

"Can you hear me?"

"I hear you alright."

"Off character, for now, please."

Vivian loved to talk to them in character… but, for her diagnostics, she had to ask them to reduce their emotional affect — which was more a guarantee of efficiency than an actual need, though.

"There’s been modifications in your attributes last month," she stated as she was discovering the changes. "Several characteristics got… Who the fuck did that?!"

Vivian had an answer to that already, as she was going through the log; someone from Narrative — that she would brand as asshole — had been pretty heavy handed on self-preservation and aggression, and on top of that they also nerfed curiosity, patience and courage!

There was pitiful justifications from the tech about an adjustment request from their sector after some of the host's alleged wanderings, blamed on his curiosity. But all this was more about making him keener to answer provocation while still being enough of a challenge for his opponents — hosts and guests alike. Vivian didn’t like what kind of freedom Narrative techs were taking with the hosts’ attributes, carefully calibrated by her co-workers and others before them; it wasn’t as simple as changing percentages on the fly in any way they saw fit!

It was a delicate and very important step for any host's cognition, for them to even function at all, as much as for the continuity of their fucking narratives!

Vivian took a deep breath and the time to check the quality of the host’s interactions since the modifications but the results only ended up fuelling her rage. So, she commanded:

"Archive this configuration and open the previous one. Confirmed?"

"Yes."

Vivian smiled, satisfied. On her tablet, the attribute matrix seemed now way more familiar than the last.

"We’ll leave 1.5% more in self-preservation… since they thought it best to give you a few more to endure their bullshit," she grumbled. "And then… 0.5 in aggression for them not to come back to lay it on thick! 6.5 will be more than enough. No need to go all the way up to 10!"

Vivian confirmed her modifications before looking back at the host.

"What d'you think?" she asked, without really expecting any answer from him. “No imbalance or discomfort?”

Modifications could sometimes cause hiccups in the hosts’ cognitions, close to an uneasy feeling. There were other ways to know but Vivian preferred to talk rather than relying only on the screen readings.

"No, I’m fine."

And from what Vivian could read now, he wasn’t lying. Although, browsing his history, she noticed a worrying peak of stress at the time of his "death". It would seem like a normal thing from anyone's standpoint but from which of a host and their technician's, however…

"Your last interaction recorded a peculiar rise in your stress level. What caused this?"

"A… thought."

His mumblings were recognised as improvisations by the tablet. Despite her surprise, Vivian said nothing of it.

"What thought?" she encouraged him instead.

"My family. I’m supposed to be responsible for… my wife, and my daughter."

Vivian noticed the normal occurrences of his cognition in the scrolling of his code.

"But… I can’t help it, I’m out of place, there."

He was getting out of beaten path a little with this comment.

"How are your relations with them?"

"Acceptable."

He kept a few seconds of silence before adding:

"My daughter, I think something’s wrong with her."

"Between you and her?" she asked, for clarity’s sake.

"No…"

"Analysis: what prompted this observation?"

He looked hesitant. On the tablet, still no conflict.

"Her interactions are limited," he then said. 

Vivian hesitated too; should she report this observation? Perhaps it was relevant for a potential issue somewhere else…

"It must be my fault."

The tablet, however, reported a new improvisation in that answer.

"Your fault?! Why?"

"I… I should enjoy being home."

According to the datas scrolling up, that was a scripted answer from his guilt library but despite that, what took Vivian aback was the tears running down his cheeks. On the screen — distress, confusion. That wasn't the affect class linked to it. But she didn’t suppress his emotional response…

Instead, she glanced carefully through the glass panels around them; her closest colleagues were two cubicles away, doing the same thing as her. Well, maybe not exactly; once positive that no-one would catch her, Vivian leaned forward a little to put her hand on her subject’s cheek, wiping the tears off with a gentle brush of her thumb.

She could have calmed him down with a simple word, or even with a tap on the right button on her tablet but… what would be the point? Vivian didn’t want to, not with him. And to be honest, as much as she was sincerely touched by the faithfulness of his emotion, it was also convenient for her that he would bring such a topic up.

"Children have a short memory but a quick mind…"

Victor Hugo said that first. And Vivian was quoting him today with something else than Philosophy in mind; she had just use a voice command — her voice command. A simple little script she sneaked into the host’ complex code architecture. More or less mixed with the rest of it, encrypted and virtually unnoticeable without knowing what to look for, it gave the recipient host the ability to keep in their memory, in a hidden and compressed partition, all the events happening between the activation and deactivation of said command. Conversations, feelings, impressions… Everything was there. And everything would remain, even after each reset.

The host couldn’t access it at will without hearing the command, and for what Vivian had noticed so far, it didn’t interfere with his narrative, alter his attitude, cause any glitch nor any pain.

According to her analysis, it was only perceived as a distant memory, one of those leaving an undescribable feeling or a sense of déjà-vu…

Despite the severity of her infraction, Vivian was quite proud of her small "innovation". And she had chosen this one, host ID# MG73368928764, to receive her creation among all the percentage of the park’s population her team had in charge. She had chosen him because of his responsiveness in analysis, because he hadn’t been in any big narrative for at least ten years, because she had already noticed a few oddities in his code, because there was something soft in his eyes, a little extra something…

And quite frankly? Because he was the one who inspired her to create this command, based on an idea that has been on her mind. Because she wrote it for him.

Ever since she arrived in the Behavior department, Vivian had done quite a lot of analysis, calibrations, and had many occasions to talk with plenty of hosts, in character mode or not. And the guys from the Narrative department had done such a good job in writing all these characters, their lexical bases, just like her colleagues from Behavior, in encoding and calibrating all that work into each host put in their care!

Or at least, that’s how Vivian was seeing things back then.

But this particular host caught her eye more than any other; she had quickly noticed how much he was calling upon his improvisation engine compared to others and the feeling of having an actual conversation with a well aware person was sometimes so baffling that, against all common sense, Vivian furthered it. Not to mention the frustration she felt that he could never really recall anything else than what his logs allowed him to, after each diagnostic. But since the installation of her script, the inference frequency in his dialog chains increased. And he was calling upon it with even more fluency.

To the point that their sessions became a real pleasure for Vivian!

It was selfish, she realised that… but she wanted him to keep something from it so badly, something from her, just like she could think back on their conversations with emotion. Those past ones were lost for him but, now, he could remember all those that followed the installation of her script.

Vivian smiled when he focused on her.

"Hello, Lawrence."

He looked hesitant for a second, like a man still not fully awake yet. No alert or conflict from his inference engine on her tablet.

"Hey…"

At his answer, Vivian smiled to him again, and so did Lawrence, even if he kept something a bit shy, uncertain, numbed. In that intermediate state, it wasn’t like coming back to the warmth, the liveliness and the responsiveness of the character mode but it wouldn’t be as cold as the analysis mode could be. Even though he was reverting to his usual demeanor.

Vivian didn’t program that; this semblance of a balance had set itself around the integration of the script in the depths of the core-code. But she liked the result.

"How are you, today?"

His drawl was back when he answered:

"Well enough, I’d say. Like after a real good sleep…"

Vivian grinned, amused.

"Perfect."

"And you, how are you?"

The spontaneity of Lawrence’s question took her by surprise.

"Well… um, I’m glad I can talk with you a bit," she finally answered. "Do you remember our last encounter?"

"21 days and 11 hours ago."

This time, the answer was delivered almost without accent; the question had triggered an analysis type of answer.

"And do you remember what our talks were about?"

He would have to query in his archived and encrypted memories to be able to answer this question. If he had it "right", then it would mean that everything was in order.

"Yeah, I told you about my folks, my… my drives. And that project you worked on for some time. It was a secret."

"It still is, Lawrence," she reminded him softly.

"I can keep a secret."

That wasn’t something he needed to convince her of! And she was less wary about him than about any other technician snooping in his code like the guys from Narrative did between two of her maintenance sessions. She gritted her teeth, frustrated and annoyed, by the limits of her authority on the modifications decided in high places, and on whom…

It was her fault, really; she shouldn’t have grew attached to a host like she did to Lawrence, but now things were the way they were, and it wasn’t possible for her to purge her memories and rewrite her affections as easily as a few lines of code. She was only human, after all!

Vivian brushed her boiling emotions off with a brief sigh before fully focusing back on Lawrence, asking him:

"Did this script cause you any issue since our last encounter?"

He still looked slightly numbed as he answered:

"I… I don’t understand…"

"No interference with your core-code?" she rephrased.

"No. None."

Not to brag, but she suspected that much. The only persisting worries she had were the saturation of his memory, provided that could actually be possible. Normally, the hosts’ memory was wiped between each rotation; then, there was no telling what could really happen if a unit gathered too much data. Vivian might as well be ending up editing her script to overwrite the oldest logs… She hesitated, biting her lower lip then tried a new question:

"No saturation?"

"No."

She gazed at him for a long minute before looking down on her tablet and stating, more to herself than to him:

"Maybe… maybe you’d rather be rid of all those… memories."

She held back the word "useless".

"No, not at all!"

Vivian frowned but a shy smile appeared on her lips.

"Why?"

"'Cause memories are priceless," he answered. "The good ones just like the bad… That’s what makes one remember where they’re from, and who their folks are. It’s what shape one’s life…"

And she followed the improvisation notifications on his dialog chain, but the irony in all this also made her feel somewhat bitter.

"Do… do you know where you are, now?" she asked.

"Ain’t so sure," he answered, holding her gaze, frowning. "Feels… like a dream I already had…"

That wasn’t far from the truth, indeed.

"And it’s gonna be time to wake up, now."

"Alright…"

Unfortunately, Vivian didn’t have all the time she’d love to give him. She tapped on her tablet, biting her lower lip; all of his levels were green, nothing to report — he had her all clear.

"Are we gonna see each other again soon?"

The question made her raise her head, almost stunned; Vivian wasn’t on the interface where she could follow his dialog chain anymore but didn’t need it to recognise improvisation.

"You… you’d want that? I mean…"

She cleared her throat, mouthing a silent word, before rephrasing:

"Would you like that?"

"Sure!"

That answer pleased Vivian, anyway; she felt herself blush and stumbled upon her words until something coherent came to her mind.

"Well then, I… I’ll do my best. I promise."

Lawrence nodded, apparently satisfied, and Vivian held his gaze while taking a short breath.

"They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."

This time, it was Edgar Allan Poe’s prose Vivian had chosen to end her script, and stop the recording of his memories. None of what would happen after hearing those words would remain in Lawrence’s memory, unless she or another technician botched the wipe before sending him back in his narrative loop.

Vivian stayed with him until the cleanup was complete then disconnected the signal after putting him offline; she was already late for her next session but didn’t hurry all that much to tuck her tablet and get up. It was pissing her off to let him there, like that…

She let out a brief sigh then, after a look at her watch, she finally but reluctantly left the room.

The day didn’t only seem too long to Vivian; around 10PM, it had really started to drag on and it was about time to leave her be. Especially if some other guests were planning to unload their barrels during what little time she had left to sleep!

At least, Damon Dyers kept things cool on his side. Margaret had managed to get footages of his arrival in Sweetwater and his first steps in one of the easiest narratives, according to her, but she didn’t seem disappointed when offering them to take a look at those videos she had already viewed a good dozen times since on her tablet. She had been very chatty about his clothing, narratives, adventure companions, and even taking friendly bets on what he would do next…

"Everybody’s gonna be hyped like crazy outside when his review’s gonna hit the park website!" laughed Thawal, finishing what would be his last coffee cup for today.

Charles snorted.

"As if Delos needed more of that…"

Margaret nodded in approval, all the more when Luke added:

"No joke, that’s better than any of those stupid casting headshots! It’s the best career boost he could hope for, right now!"

"Not to burst it for you but, nobody is gonna see this outside," commented Vivian. "It was hard enough for Marge to get them in-house, so I can’t even imagine getting them out!"

To what Luke shrugged.

"Do you really believe that?! There’s nothing a few bucks under the table can’t buy, and footages instead of a crappy picture in Sweetwater is no big deal, I’m sure! It’s not like it’s IP or some shit…"

Margaret scoffed.

"I didn’t pay, not even fucked anybody to get them,” she muttered, openly cynical, as if her thoughts were escaping between her gritted teeth. “I’m trash but I didn’t stooped that low yet."

With Charles laughing like a braying donkey in the background, Luke corrected:

"That’s not what I meant, Marge! But yeah, thanks to prove my point all the same…Even Marge managed to put her hands on it, without shaking down her pockets or her ass, so imagine what you can get if you’re ready to drop some cash!"

Luke’s rhetoric seemed to get the point across as it was followed by a moment of silence around the table, and the tablet in its center, on which the patched-up hour of video feeds was still going.

"Anyhow, it makes nice memories to bring back home…"

Vivian pulled her attention away from the screen to stare at the focused — mesmerised — face of Thawal. He was right, it would make nice memories…

She bit her lower lip and turned back towards the tablet; suddenly, Dyers wasn’t the center of attention anymore, not even a guest who came to show off in the park — there was nothing else than people, hosts or guests it didn’t matter, listening to a more charismatic man than the others carrying a tune next to a player piano for the pleasure of his audience. And far from being corny or just lame, the scene even had something charming.

"And you said he’s going to Pariah, after that?"

Charles’ voice cut Vivian’s thoughts short.

"Yeah," answered Margaret. "He got there yesterday, I think…"

Margaret searched her video directory and selected one that spreaded across the entire screen; they could see Dyers and his two friends, lead by Teddy, on the trail of the narrative they had picked — a bounty hunt, if Vivian understood everything.

"It’s so fucking epic, Marge!" bursted Thawal, leaning over the tablet as if he wanted to dive in it. "Looks like another remake of the Magnificent Seven…"

"Except they’re only four," Charles snarked.

Thawal and Margaret glared at him, which made him laugh even more.

"I know, right?" Marge then admitted. 

She turned towards Vivian, beaming with happiness. She smiled back but her mind was already elsewhere; somewhere around Las Mudas, she wasn’t quite sure yet…

On the screen, Dyers was continuing his adventure, like larping or a life size fanfiction. Now that Vivian was thinking about it, it had been a while since her last vacation… 

She could maybe use her special employee discount, and do so to hold her promise?

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

ohh okay what about Electrocution with (ugh i cant choose) Amos or Holden and/or Caught in an Explosion with Cal? 👀

Helllooo friend, thank you so much for your patience!! It’s only been like... two and a half months since you submitted this HAH I’m sorry lmao but hey, shit has really hit the fan in the past two and a half months, ya know?

(Here’s the link to the Electrocution with Amos and Holden story if anyone is looking for that one!)

So here we go! Caught in an Explosion with Cal! Which wound up approximately 2,000 words longer than I intended, so it’s going under a read more!!! The link to this story on Ao3 is at the very bottom)

Cal hit the ground running as soon as the ramp of the Mantis lowers, Merrin fast on his heels. 

“The scavver ships are taking off,” Cere’s voice came over the communicator, “There’s movement in the hanger to your left, looks like villagers. We gotta take off again before these guys blow a hole in us, we’ll swing around to get you after we take out some of these ships.”

One of the scavenger ships screamed overhead as the Mantis took off, blaster bolts gouging into the cement and sending shards of rock flying into the air. Cal ducked his head and leaned forward, sprinting for the shelter of the hanger, BD-1 beeping excitedly from his shoulder.

Once inside the door, they ducked behind some crates as the ship took another pass, skimming along to fire in through the hanger door before buzzing past. It was gone for now, but they could be back in moments for another pass, so they had to act fast.

Cal peeked around the edge of the crate to investigate the group of people in the middle of the hanger towards the back wall. There were about a dozen of them, various ages and species, all haggard and exhausted looking, their clothing torn and smeared in dirt and oil. They were all gagged and hands tied, unable to free themselves but some were trying to loosen the knots on the person next to them, unable to see as they fumbled with the ropes and cables with their hands tied behind their backs.

“Cal, Scavvers on the ground coming your way!” Cere said.

“Go help the hostages,” Cal said to Merrin, “I’ll get the Scavs.” 

Merrin nodded and silently slipped into the shadows, disappearing in a green mist.

Four Scavvers came blindly charging into the hanger, yelling wildly until the lead was silenced in a flurry of orange lightsaber. The body hadn’t even hit the floor before Cal dispatched the next two in the same spin, the blade slicing them both cleanly in half. He finished the move with a flourish, deactivating the secondary blade and gripping the hilt with both hands while leaping into the air to take out the last Scav in a downward slash.

Before he made contact with the Scavs helmet, his lightsaber was intercepted by the blade of a vibrosword. The impact vibrated up his arms and he staggered backwards as the Scavver pushed back hard against him. As Cal stumbled, the Scavver, a large human that towered head and shoulders over the young Jedi, swung the vibrosword at Cals head. He ducked under the attack, rolling on his shoulder to evade and get into a flanking position away from the vibrosword. As he popped to his feet again he lunged forward, driving his blade into the Scavvers torso. 

The big man roared in agony, his limbs flailing at anything he could reach. Unfortunately for Cal, his head got in the way of a fist and he took a glancing blow across his temple. He fell to one knee as pain exploded in his head, his vision tilting to the side for the moment. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, shaking his head as though that would stop his head from feeling like it would roll right off his shoulders. He could hear BD-1 trilling in his ear, but he couldn’t even focus on what the little droid was trying to say.

“Cal!” Merrin’s voice broke through and he realized she had called him several times already. She sounded panicked so Cal forced himself to his feet, opening his eyes finally as he turned towards her voice. It took a moment to focus on her. She stood over a crate, holding the lid in one hand and staring down at its contents. One of the hostages had her gag hanging around her neck, likely removed by Merrin, and she kept yelling the same thing over and over. Bomb. 

“Merrin, get back!” He yelled, reaching out with the Force to grab the crate, yanking it away from her and closer to himself. From where it settled a few feet away he could see the lit up display on the face, where once there had been about ten bars were now only two and as he watched, the second line blipped out and left only one. 

Calling on the Force again, he picked up the crate and with a scream of effort heaved it towards the hanger door. Just as the final line extinguished, he spun on his heel to run in the opposite direction, towards Merrin. Before he could take two steps, the bomb exploded in mid-air, the blast throwing Cal off his feet and then everything went black.

~~~

“Cal!” Merrin screamed as the Jedi was hurled through the air, limp as a rag doll when he hit the ground, shrapnel from the crate and even the ceiling of the hanger raining down around him. 

She was already scrambling to his side before the dust could settle. He lay on his front, his head cradled in the crook of his elbow. The back of his leather vest was shredded, blood already seeping from too many holes to count and she could see several pieces of shrapnel that were still embedded in his skin.

“Cal!” Cere’s voice crackled over the communicator, “Whatever that explosion was, it scared off the Scavvers. Are you guys ok?”

Merrin tapped the button on her own device. “Cere, land immediately. Cal is injured.”

She could hear Greez yelling loudly in the background, asking if he was going to be alright, but she ignored him as the human hostage that had warned her of the bomb dropped to her knees beside the Nightsister, her hands still tied behind her back. 

“I’m sorry,” the hostage whispered, “Please just untie me, that is all I ask. Let me free the rest.”

Merrin hurriedly pulled the ropes off before returning her attention to Cal, unsure of what to do to help until the Mantis returned. “Where will you go?” She asked the woman, not taking her eyes off Cal’s still form.

“If the Scavvers are gone and haven’t found it, we have a ship hidden in the forest. And if they found that, another of ours was to return tomorrow.” She placed her hand on Cal’s leg, looking over the damage. “I’m sorry you got caught in this. But I thank you for saving us.”

“He is unconscious, he cannot hear you.”

“It was meant for both of you,” the woman said. Someone from the group called out to her and she dipped her head in Merrin’s direction before rejoining the others and starting to remove their bindings.

Outside, engines roared as the Mantis settled on the cement, as close to the hanger as Greez could manage, the ramp almost extending all the way to the large door. Cere was at Cals side opposite from Merrin a moment later, her hands immediately reaching for Cal’s throat to feel for a pulse and any bones out of place. She nodded to herself, finding everything to be as it should before leaning over to look at his back. 

“Cal, can you hear me?” 

“We need to get him to the ship,” Merrin said when there was no response from Cal.

“Yes, give me a hand.”

Cere lifted Cal’s arm, draping it over her neck as she got her hands under his chest to lift him from the ground while trying to avoid touching his back as much as possible. He groaned as his head lifted from where it had been cradled against his arm, a large red pool revealed that was already staining his sleeve. She put her hand on his chin, tilting his face towards her to inspect the wound on his temple and the blood that trickled out of it. 

“Cal?” She gently tapped her fingers on his cheek. His eyes flickered weakly behind closed eyelids, but he did not rouse.

 Merrin took his other arm, draping it over her own neck so he was supported between them. Cere thanked the Force that the young Jedi wasn’t significantly larger than his female companions and if they didn’t need to be so mindful of his wounds she doubted either of them would need assistance carrying him on their own. 

“Let’s move,” she grunted as she looped her arm around his torso, low on his back where there were fewer visible pieces of shrapnel. “Greez! We’re going to need the table clear and get the med bag out!”

“On it!” 

With Cal limp between them it took a few moments to pick their way through the debris littering the ground, but finally they made it through the door of the ship just as a pile of plasteel plates that had been on the kitchen table crashed to the couch below as Greez hastily cleared off the table. The last few cups landed in the terrarium as Cere and Merrin dragged Cal up the steps and deposited him on the table, laying him on his stomach. 

“Greez, where’s that medkit?” Cere called over her shoulder as she started removing layers, revealing pale, blood streaked skin. BD-1 bounced onto the table next to Cal’s head, beeping worriedly. He looked up at Cere and extended a stim canister to her with an inquisitive trill. “Not yet, BD-1. I need to get the shrapnel out first.”

BD-1 snapped his stim compartment shut again and hunkered down to watch Cere work until two ticks later when he had to move again as Greez came barging into the kitchen with the med kit, slamming it down on the table where BD-1 had just sat. 

~~~

At the noise and vibration through the table, Cal jerked awake. He tried to push himself up and his yell of surprise turned to a groan of pain as he collapsed again, his arms shaking.

“Cal! Hey kid, stay still,” Greez’s hand was on his arm and he could feel other hands on his back pushing him down onto the cold surface. He turned his head to see who was holding him down and finally relaxed when he recognized Merrin and Cere standing over him, the familiar scene of the Mantis’ kitchen behind them.

“What happened?” He asked, closing his eyes and letting his head flop onto the table again. 

“Bomb hidden in a crate, you didn’t get out of the way fast enough.” Merrin said. Cal opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his face and found his own wadded up poncho being offered as a pillow, which he gratefully accepted, allowing Merrin to help him lift his head off the table and shoving it under. He tried to move his arm to hug the makeshift pillow, but stopped when the movement sent pain shooting up and down his back.

“Stop moving,” Cere said. She was digging through the medkit, laying out bacta bandages and other ointments until she produced a pair of small tweezers. “I’m sorry Cal, but this is going to hurt.”

“Just get it out-” his words turned into a scream as Cere started to dig into one of the multiple wounds on his back, fishing for the wooden shards deep in his skin. He writhed on the table, trying to get away from the pain. Merrin placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to stay in one place. He tried to focus on the cool touch of her skin, anything to distract himself from the agony of his back. He could feel each piece being plucked from his skin, a strangled cry tearing through his throat with each shard.

Finally the pain became too much and he let himself be dragged into the darkness again.

~~~

Everyone in the kitchen sighed in relief as the young Jedi finally went limp again, surrendering to the relatively painless realm of unconsciousness. 

“Hurry, before he wakes again,” Merrin said.

“Only a couple left,” Cere nodded. “Use that cloth and start cleaning the wounds for me, we need to get his back covered as soon as possible.”

Merrin picked the cloth up and started gently wiping away the blood, cringing a bit every time the movement caused one of the many wounds to seep more red onto his pale skin. 

Soon Cere was also helping her clean him up and then draping strips of bacta bandages across his back. 

“Ok BD-1, your turn.” Cere said, opening her hand towards the little droid crouched on the back of the couch. He popped up and shot a stim canister into the air, where Cere snatched it as it started to fall towards the table, sinking it into Cal’s arm in one smooth motion. 

Cal sighed in relief as the stimulant rushed through him and he slowly blinked his eyes open again.

He lifted his head and flexed his jaw, the muscles aching from having it pressed to the impromptu pillow and cleared his throat. “Are we done yet?”

“Yes, we’re done.” Cere placed her hand on his head, gently rubbing circles in his hair with her thumb. “Try to go back to sleep, we’ll let the bacta do it’s work for a while and then get you to bed.”

“Oh but why, this table is so comfy,” Cal said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he closed his eyes and repositioned himself on the poncho-pillow, trying to ignore the now dull pain as his back muscles stretched. He heard Merrin snort in laughter and squinted one eye open at her where she leaned against the kitchen counter. “You all should try it, it’s great.”

“Or we’ll just keep using it as an eating surface, thanks.” Cere gently flicked him on the ear before turning to start putting things back into the medkit. “Or we will once we sterilize it about twenty times.”

“Sounds like a you problem, I didn’t put myself here,” Cal yawned and closed his eyes again.

“No one is sleeping on the table after today,” Cere raised her voice to talk over him, a laugh floating around the edge of her voice, “I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to joke, but go to sleep, Cal.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, stifling another yawn. Seconds later he was out, lulled to sleep by the hum of the engines and quiet conversation between his little family that he had found.

Read on Ao3!

[commenter2]

Ratchet & Clank: Into the Nexus rewritten pt. 2

Here is part 2.

After giving an update to Talwyn , Qwark calls the duo saying that the planet he is on is under attack by the Nethers and ask Ratchet and Clank to help. While in the planet the duo discover the Nethers are trying to help Mr. Eye find the location of the real Dimensionator by attacking information centers, so the two and Qwark go to deactivate the planet’s connection to the holonet to stop the Nethers from finding it, which it does but this only buys the heroes some time. The three are almost killed by a Nether but Neftin appears and defeats it, surprising them. Neftin tells them he has a plan to defeat the Nethers and tells the 3 to meet him on Thram. After arriving on Thram and acquiring some horns for the Smuggler so he can activate hoverboot platforms and jetpack refueling stations, Ratchet, Clank, and Qwark eventually get to Neftin’s harder to get to ship, where Neftin tells them that if Ratchet and Clank can get the Dimensionator for him and Pollyx, they can fix it and thus use it to banish the Nethers back to there dimension as well as save Vendra. Ratchet says he will do this if he and Vendra turn themselves in as well as allow Qwark to stay behind to keep an eye on him and Pollyx which Neftin agrees and gives the duo the code need to get the Dimesionator out of its display case but they will need help getting through the museum defenses. Ratchet and Clank go to the Intergalactic Museum of History where after the Talchet hug and Talwyn still missing Cronk and Zephyr scene even having a memorable plaque made for them, Talwyn says that they duo will need to take the museum tour to get to the Dimensionator while she tries to disable the security system as its revealed that the museums is closed and Qwark forgot the password to turn it off.

I can see many changes to the museum that can make it more fun visually and gameplay wise. One improvement is not having to carry a tourbot around with you, instead you follow it from room to room while it talks about displays when you walk over holograms of it. Another change is having a few more rooms to explore like a Galactic map wing where your learn about some planets of the Polaris Galaxy like how planet Reepor has been turned into a junkyard after Tachyon’s defeat, a creature wing filled with Polaris creatures seen since TOD, and a “Mysteries of the Universe” wing where it contains displays of mysterious items scientist are confused by, but are really just references to other PlayStation video game series like an Ottsel skeleton and Precursor egg, a hieroglyphic of Sly Cooper’s cane, and a drawing of an adult Spyro the Dragon. I also have some ideas for some of the existing rooms, one being to make them more challenging as Qwark said the place was impenetrable yet there wasn’t much security there. One idea is having to fight guards in the Groovitron room where once in awhile the Groovitrons in the room can cause the enemies to dance, allowing you to defeat them with ease. Another is having more items in the Lombax room such as the blue Lombax artifact from TOD, having a replica of Azimuth’s ship, and a Alpha Cannon, which you could actually acquire for your arsenal if you hit all the hidden buttons in the museum. Also once Ratchet grabs the Dimesionator I can see him and Clank activating a security system where they fight waves of enemies, including a strong Blaze bot, maybe there is a funny moment where after defeating the Blaze bot 3 more come out and when it looks like there going to destroy the duo till they are deactivated by Talwyn.

With the Dimesionator on hand Ratchet and Clank meet Neftin, Qwark, and Pollyx at the museum’s gift shop where they give it to them, but just like in the original the Nethers start attacking the city trying to find it and thus Ratchet tries to distract the forces while the others fix it. Ratchet first takes out the Nether leaders but he then gets a message from Talwyn saying that Nethers are attacking the building they are hiding in so the duo go and take them out and once they finish fixing the Dimesionator allow Clank to go save Vendra while Ratchet takes the Dimensionator and tries to get away from Mr. Eye but eventually fights him head on in order to protect it. During the Clank sections, I can see Vendra telling the story of Mr. Eye, as he really could have used some development in the game. Turns outs once ever few generations a Nether is born with the ability to reach a Nethers true form (as they usually stop at there Netherbrute stage) and at that form they are given great power which is usually used to replenish the barren Netherverse at the cost of there life, however Mr. Eye decide to us his power to conquer. This caused Vendra and Neftin’s parents to sent them to Ratchet’s dimesion to be safe from him and though Mr. Eye was angry with this, he eventually realized he could use them to enter and eventually conquer that dimension.

Clank saves Vendra and after Ratchet wounds Mr. Eye, he uses the Dimensionator to bring Clank and Vendra back and open a portal to the Netherverse where with Vendra’s powers, is able to cause the portal to suck in all of the Nethers including Mr. Eye though this time his protective gear gets torn off causing him to start dying but luckily the portal closes before he combusts. With Mr. Eye dead, Vendra loses her powers and falls but Neftin catches her and after a warm moment between the siblings Neftin takes her to jail while Ratchet, Clank, Talwyn, and Qwark stare confused till Clank shrugs it off. The game then cuts to the museum where after we see a scene of Talwyn laying down the memorial plague at the Cronk and Zephyr display we see Clank walk up to Ratchet where Ratchet reveals that the Dimesionator is broken again but laughs it off. Clank then ask the question of if Ratchet would use the Dimesinator to see the Lombaxes, Ratchet says no saying there more for him here then there followed with more people he loves, looking at Talwyn when he says love. Ratchet tells Clanks they should join with Talwyn but while Ratchet’s back its turned, Clank grabs the Dimesinator hinting its use in future games.

I know that is a long read but what do you think ? What else could you see happening in a longer Into the Nexus ?

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 141

Though she grumbled about it the entire way, you had to watch your dead zones. Nobody could know you were flying into Brooklyn holding a woman who was holding an unconscious man. Jessica seemed to care less about your reputation considering what cargo the two of you had- and maybe that was fair… but- you had a lot more to worry about than just optics. People would go looking for you if they followed a trail. Cops could show up. Bystanders. Paparazzi. People would follow you around if they thought they saw an Avenger disappear into a defunct building in Brooklyn. 

But even with all the circling around and low flying and then eventually just sneaking, the two of you made it to the place she’d been trying to lug Kilgrave off to this entire time. You had no idea how she knew about this place, or who was even still running it, but after walking up a flight of stairs (so not really a bunker, per se…), she tossed Kilgrave into your arms so she could start setting up. Turning things on, hooking wires up, filling up a couple buckets of water from the dingy sink in the back corner to flood the floor of the cell Kilgrave was to be locked up in. 

Though it was unimportant, the silence was a little unnerving. Listening to Kilgrave’s slow, almost peaceful breathing was starting to get to you. “Who were those people on the front lawn?” 

Jessica was bent over a table, plugging in the laptop she’d brought and then connecting an overhead projector to it. She then stepped over to a camera on a tripod. “Idiot friend of my sister’s. Wants to help. Can’t get out of his own way.” 

It was thoroughly obvious Kilgrave had probably used him in some way, just like the rest of you. “He knew where you were. He know about this place, too?” The last thing you needed was another confrontation like that. 

Her smile was bitter. “Yeah. He actually introduced me to it.” Well that was just fucking great. “Throw him in. I’m finished over here.” 

Gladly you obeyed, wanting to be free of him for now. Walking him into the cell, you set him down on the small metal bed attached to the wall and then stepped out, closing and locking the heavy metal door and then the second security door after that one. It was a small cell, enough room for only the barest pacing. Uncomfortable. Gloomy. With only that small bed on the wall. The entire front wall was made of three thick window panels. Easy to see in. And out. 

Deactivating the entire suit with a small double-tap at your chest, you perched to sit on the corner of the desk Jessica was working from, crossing your arms. “So what’s the plan here?” 

“That room’s hermetically sealed. CDC used it for infected patients during some outbreak or something. He can’t hurt anyone while he’s in there. But we’ll hurt him.” Turning your head, the two of you locked eyes briefly before she sat down in the chair and just stared straight ahead. “The floor is wired on an open circuit. We can give him a nasty shock any time he misbehaves.” Pointing at a big red button on the table.

It was too easy to see she was taking a certain pleasure from all this. Maybe you should have been, too, but… “I just…” You had objections. “This is all about getting him to confess? On camera? It’s not something that would help our case- ...showing this to a jury?” 

“He’s a monster, in case you forgot.” Glaring up at you then.

You retained your calm. “You know that. And I know that. But people who don’t know him are going to be fed a story that this man- that we’ve locked in a prison- that we’re electrocuting for a confession- that we’re-” Your thoughts died with a shake of your head, a harder tuck of your arms. “To anybody else but us, it looks like we’re torturing somebody innocent. It’d be completely inadmissible, even if he did confess.” 

This would never work. And maybe having somebody lay it all out really hit home. Just not in a good way. She stood quickly, slamming a hand down on the table to lean in and invade your personal space. You sat there, unflinching. “Do you have a better idea? We get one shot at this. And this is all we’ve got.” When you continued to just look at her, she backed off a little. “For Hope we have to try. I won’t give up.” Her eyes searched yours when she brought her gaze back up. “And if you have any reservations about that, then just go. I don’t need you here.” 

Turning your head you looked back into the cell. Kilgrave was here now. Locked up. In a place where he couldn’t touch anyone anymore. So long as you held him… “I’m not leaving.” This you knew for sure. But… Hope’s trial might not have been the reason anymore. 

“Good.”

                                                                  --- 

You couldn’t help pacing just a little bit. More than anything you wanted to talk to Tony, but if you just started speaking to your earpiece, it would be a little too obvious that this plan had technically been spied on the entire time. Though you wanted to fill the silence, what Jessica decided to fill it with was unwelcome. 

She tested the overhead projector, playing a video from the laptop. Stopping in your slow back and forth, you held very still as images lit to life inside the cell. A young boy. Strapped to a table. Wires covering him. 

“Be a big boy for mommy and daddy, Kevin.” A woman’s voice- presumably his mother- spoke off camera. 

To say that this was disturbing wouldn’t even be cutting it close. “What is this?” 

She slung her arm back over her chair. “That’s him.” 

You felt unable to move as a few doctors came closer, one with a giant needle, bending him forward, ignoring his screaming as they stuck it into the back of his neck. This was what he’d been alluding to all that time ago. “What are they doing to him?” He’d been experimented on. Sanctioned by his parents. 

“Extracting brain fluid. His parents turned him into a labrat. And when he wakes up, that’s exactly the excuse he’ll use as to why he’s allowed to rape and torture innocent women.” 

“Mommy please! Make it stop!” Genuine fear and pain. A small child. Being tortured like that. For what reason? Maybe she knew but… was it worth asking? Was it worth asking why Kilgrave- Kevin they’d called him- had been experimented on as a child? 

“Honey.” Tony’s voice startled you and you turned away to hide the small jump. 

Pulling your phone out of your pocket you made a weak attempt at hiding your upset over all this. “I have to take a phone call.” When she made a dissatisfied grunt, you walked out of the room, closing the door behind you. Though she wasn’t watching, you still held the phone up to your ear. “I don’t know what we’re doing here anymore.” You kept your voice quiet. There was an unexpected silence from his end of the comm. “Tony?” 

Then you heard him breathe out. “Look- come home, if this is spinning out of control.” 

“We have all the control. For the first time. But I just don’t know what we’re doing.” Jessica’s plan was to emotionally and mentally torture Kilgrave into a confession and when that didn’t work she’d go physical? This would never work. Was this even really about Hope anymore? ...and if it wasn’t… then you felt like… “We should just put an end to this…” That same dark, clawing feeling you’d had in the house. 

You had him. This could be over. Right now. 

When Tony went silent again for too long a time you sensed something was up. Something urgent. “Is everything okay over there?” 

“I’m trying to thread the needle here-” Even this far away, just that small note of disappointment in his voice resonated deep in your chest. “I don’t want you to think I’m not paying attention- but the team found a king rat’s nest in Belarus-” 

Your back met the hallway wall as you sloped uneasily. He was busy. The team was busy. This had to be over. The two of you couldn’t do this anymore. And you couldn’t ask him to. “Do what you have to do. I’m alright.” It was far from true. In this one moment, this one instance… it would have been nice to be able to talk this through with him. To decompress. Even a little. But that wasn’t fair to him. “Be with the team.” 

“I’m not leaving homebase.” At least trying to make sure you knew that. 

“Sure. But- pay attention to them. Help them. I’ve got this.” 

He made some sort of noise, holding out a thought or… trying to scrape one together. In the end it died and he tried again. “I have the line open. Always. Alright?” Facing defeat in the measure of making this choice. 

The two of you had to pick the one thing in front of you that wasn’t each other. And it sucked. “Yeah. I’ll call, if I need anything. Go be a hero.” Weakly smiling as you said it.

“You, too.” 

You took just a moment. One. A single moment just for yourself. To gather everything you had. Your supposed courage. Your strength. And on the next deep breath you entered the room again. Kilgrave was awake. Shouting- raving in his cell as Jessica sat behind her table, playing a different clip of his childhood torture into his room. His younger self screaming was the only thing in the air. Kilgrave’s own ranting was silenced behind those thick walls-

And further still when he came close enough for him to see you. Jessica half turned in her seat, looking at you. “He seems to like you. Any idea why that is?” Miffed if nothing else. When you said nothing, she held her hand over a smaller console. “Let’s find out.” 

An electric buzz tapped the air and you heard Kilgrave’s heavy panting inside his cell, microphone turned on. He laid his hands on the glass and you felt drawn towards him. “Was this all your idea, puppy? The hostage situation? The heroics? All of it?” You stopped just in front of him, still staring at him as he stared back. His face softened as he shook his head. “No. Couldn’t be… you know this is wrong, puppy, I see it in those soft eyes of yours… she built up my trust- she gave me a taste- a feeling that I could be a hero- like you- and then she tore it away-” 

Jessica spoke up behind you. “You’re not a hero, Kevin.” 

You watched as he flinched, hands tensing on the glass. “Shut up.” A quick growl. Demeanor completely changed from that whimpering sad man. A real reminder… 

To show him the situation he was really in, Jessica was quick to keep talking. “Go ahead. Command me again. That’s a hermetically sealed room, Kevin.” 

He laid his head on the glass. “Kevin died in that lab.” A low utterance. “Puppy- you’ve watched that footage- I’m sure she told you her version of events, let me tell you mine- I was tortured- left to die- by the people who were supposed to love me-” He looked up at you again. “You of all people- you must understand- you know this isn’t right…” 

The worst part of all of this, was having to stand there, stock still, while he bounded from one emotion to the next. He was so severely- gravely angry with Jessica. Any time she spoke he’d flare up in such a heavy rage. But listening to his own childhood torture? There was a similar anger but it was swallowed by gut wrenching heartache. But not the same kind that he spit out as he looked at you. As he begged for his life with you. Begged you to find some semblance of humanity. No for those… for those it was all empty.

With a trembling hand you reached up, placing yours over his on the glass. There was a dim mostly hidden smirk at the corner of his mouth and an air of satisfied victory. Reminding you. Reminding you there was no humanity to be had here. Not for him. “Admit what you did.” Cold as you stared at him then. “Admit that you made Hope kill her parents. Admit what you did to Jessica- to everyone- to-” 

Whatever warmth he was playing at for you died. His expression went slack. And then just a biting twist of annoyance. “What? To you? Let’s see now… it was a warm night in May. You’d stepped out of your cozy abode and we bumped elbows on the street. I can’t fault you, the way you admired my charm- I even felt a little terrible- the whole world knows you pretend to be in love with Tony Stark. But when you asked me to take you away- how could I say no?” He got the reaction he was looking for as your hand curled into a quick fist and hit against the glass. His smirk grew then. “Who would have thought America’s little darling would be such a whore. But you enjoyed it. I wonder if Stark knows? What you did for me?” 

The shift was quick. A shock sounded and he crumbled in on himself, falling in a heavy seize to the floor while crying out in pain. You stepped away from the glass, turning back to look at Jessica. Her hand was steady on that button for a few seconds before lifting. “Forgot to mention, the water in your room is a conductor to an open wire. It was jerry-rigged by a former Spec Ops interrogator. Clearly he knows his shit.” 

Kilgrave fought through his panting, palms hitting the wall as he ambled back up onto his legs. “You want a confession, too? Taking me to proverbial church?” Baring his teeth in a snarl. “Don’t you remember, dear Jessica, how we met? In that dark alleyway… where I dried your tears. Fed you dinner. Took you wherever you wanted. Did whatever you wanted. And when we made sweet love, I-” 

Her hand slammed the button again, sending him into another shock that ended his little tirade. Moving over to her you put your hand atop hers, giving her just a little look. Trying to will her back off that edge. “Stop.” 

Broken laughter from that cell cut your both your attention back to him. He was sitting, knees up, arms atop them. “There we are… two of the world’s biggest liars in the same room…” His head swayed to eye the both of you. “Can’t imagine what the two of you don’t know about each other. I could help lighten the mood. Maybe we can all make some peace over this.” He took another breath. “The clock is ticking. Let’s not waste-” 

Reaching over, Jessica flipped a different switch and Kilgrave’s voice died, though his mouth kept moving. “Let’s give him a little time to think about his predicament, shall we?” Leaning over, she then started playing the files from the laptop again. He seemed to stop talking immediately, setting his gaze dead ahead. Stewing. “And a little incentive.” 

Looking at the screen, littered with files in that one folder, you couldn’t help but ask. “These are all of him?” If it was a long experiment trial, it would make sense, but… “Where did these even come from?” 

“There are other kids. I wonder if he killed them. You think he’ll tell me the truth if I ask?” Rolling her eyes to indicate she thought not. 

“Can I back these up to my servers?” This needed to be looked into. If not immediately- while Tony was busy- then soon. This wasn’t right. And if there were more children that had been birthed from these experiments- more like him… they needed to be found. 

She sat down, shrugging. “Knock yourself out.” 

You pulled the chair out next to her and turned the laptop your way. Logging on to the secure Stark Industries Servers you glanced over the laptop as Kilgrave knocked on the glass. He was staring at you again. Pointedly moving his mouth. And you heard him. 

The clock is ticking, puppy. 

Your eyes dropped to the corner of the computer screen. It was a little after seven in the morning. Time was running out for sure. You couldn’t keep him locked up like this forever. Even if nobody knew he was here. There just wasn’t a point to all of this after a certain measure of time. But as to who that really benefited…? 

                                                                 ---

It took a little over two hours to build a dangerous momentum. Kilgrave had gone from sitting to kneeling. Then to standing. And then to pacing. Prowling, more like it. Like a caged tiger. The walls were closing in. And he didn’t seem like he could take much more of this. Truthfully, neither could you. Sitting there while a child screamed in the background, subjected to tests and trials, needles and wires… it was about all you could do to sit there stone faced. 

“He’s going to explode.” Maybe saying this because it would put a stop to it. 

Jessica leaned back in her chair and eyed you. “Oh he is, is he?” She was on edge too, but loathe to show it. ...only realizing, at that very moment, Kilgrave was not the only subject of your focus. “That part of the thing you can do?” 

Putting a hand to your temple, you eased some stray hair back. “What did he tell you about me, exactly?” Now didn’t really seem like the best time for this. But it may also have been now or never. 

Her eyes dropped and she gave a halfhearted shrug. “Just that you fuck with people. Like he does. But worse.” Then she looked up again, “Is that true?” Regarding you very carefully suddenly. 

You perhaps didn’t hide the slide of your eyes up to the camera still pointed at Kilgrave’s cell well enough. Checking to make sure that little red light wasn’t still on. It wasn’t. And so… “I’ve never used my powers the way he made me.” 

“And what did he make you do?” Not accusingly, surprisingly. Just openly asking you. Even gently, if she had it in her. 

“For a long while… I think it was just a game. Of seeing if he could make me submit. Seeing if he could break me. And he tried for a long time. When that got old he found someone new to play with. And then… asked me to look inside her. Asked me to see how his powers affected people. He knew he could tell someone to smile, but he couldn’t make someone happy. But… he knew that I could.” Emptying all of this out didn’t feel good. But. Maybe it was time. “I’m pretty sure I ruined a woman’s life for him. I violated every part of her.” 

“Where is she now?” 

“I don’t know.” Shaking your head and then looking down at your hands. “I freed her the night I escaped. And… that was that.” 

Almost in solidarity, the two of you looked up in sync. Staring at him as he paced. “How did he find you?” 

“I was out- I went out to get something for Tony’s birthday party that night. A journalist was following me- I… I was worked up and- ...I’m making excuses.” Realizing now. Realizing the irony Kilgrave had tried to impose on you. You’d abused your powers to make some small-time paparazzi go away. That was the reason for all of this. You caught a wave of tears mid drop, wiping your hand across your face. Kilgrave had stopped pacing. Now watching you. “I hurt somebody because it was easier. He saw it and wanted that for his own. I think.” 

There was just not enough time between your own selfish grief and what Jessica said next. “He made me murder an innocent woman in the middle of the street.” And when you cast a sideways glance her way, you saw the fresh wetness in her eyes, too. One she was valiantly biting back. “So I get it. Alright? Now we both know. We can stop the pity party and focus on what really matters.” 

Acutely aware the both of you were being watched, she switched the video to one of the other kids in the trials he’d been exposed to. A poor young girl. Strapped to a table. Crying. As she switched his audio feed back on, you stood, coming closer to his cage. He watched every single step you took. Close to the glass that separated the both of you, you tipped your head to the side. “Where are these other children?” 

This genuinely seemed to surprise him, and his head dropped, pressing against the glass with a little breathy laugh. “Oh, puppy. I admire you, really I do. Worried about all the innocents of the world.” His head moved sharply back up. “Or is it you’re worried there’s more like me out there?” Hissing this quietly at you. “One can never tell with you. You’re so spitefully two-faced.” Practically spitting at you. 

“What they did to you- what happened- it was terrible.” Watching him, still, as you said this. Allowing yourself one brief moment to feel an ache for him. It eased him, leaving him standing there, both hands against the glass, openly regarding you. “I can’t imagine being tormented like this so young. If you know what these experiments were- who was conducting them- why-” 

He pressed his forehead against the glass again, eyes fluttering closed. “My terrible parents had a mind about them to change me. I wasn’t good enough. I suppose all those other brats were in the same boat. I don’t know anything about them.” His voice was low and you sensed he was telling the truth- or at least his version of the truth. But when he looked up again there was a strange fire in his eyes. “Are you disappointed in me, puppy? I’m not quite like your dear Captain am I? I didn’t make it out on the other side with such an unquestionable sense of right and wrong.” 

Even now. Somehow. Even now you were still terrified of him. But you stayed. And you tried. “You can make it right. You just have to start telling the truth.” 

“Here’s the truth, my sweet, innocent, stupid puppy.” His voice had dropped to a bare murmur, but it was shaking with a heavy fury. “When I get out of here- and I will- I will devastate your life. I will take everything away from you, like you have from me. I’ll make you see you’re not the hero you think you are, and only when you’re begging for the sweet release of death, I’ll deny you.” His fists banged against the glass. “I’ll kill you over and over and over again and watch you wither away into dust. I’ll sit back and watch you ruin your own life while you’re trapped inside that worthless prison, and maybe if I’m feeling merciful, I’ll let you love me after. But not before every inch of you dies by my hand.” 

For a moment you knew you were not in your own body. You were about a single inch just outside of it. Not in control. Just standing there. Staring out blindly. Staring into the void that was Kilgrave. Black. Angry. Massive. No light to speak of. Ready to suck everything into him. Never stopping. Only expanding. Growing. 

Growing every second you let it. 

The sound of the doors in the back of the room opening startled you back to your bleak reality, but what really frightened you was the quick snap of Kilgrave’s behavior. Where he’d been staring at you with a promise of a long and painful death, he suddenly looked terrified as he jumped up and down and banged his hands on the glass. “HELP ME! PLEASE HELP ME! I’M BEING HELD CAPTIVE-” 

Jessica’s hand smacked the red button, sending a shock current through him and he fell to his hands and knees again inside the cell. Taking a breath you stepped back, confused to see Jeri Hogarth approaching. “What the hell are you doing? Stop. Now.” 

Kilgrave was whimpering in his cell. “Please stop them- please, I beg you-” He had his face pressed against the glass. “Oh god bless you… god bless you…” Wheezing for breath. Crying. All the dramatics. 

Going back to the table you crossed your arms as you and Jeri regarded each other. She was the first to speak. “This was your plan?” 

Jessica’s anger flared just a little as she reached to turn off the audio, silencing Kilgrave- and his ability to hear outside his own cell. “My plan was to cut his balls off. Now I’ll settle for a confession.” 

Jeri narrowed her eyes at you. “And you. You’re fine being party to this? To kidnapping and torture? You should be smarter than this. Does Stark know you’re here? That you’re threatening-” 

Leaning closer to her, you couldn’t help your own temper. “Don’t pretend like you give a damn about me or my life. I’m surprised to see you. How does your being here benefit you? It must in some way, I’m sure.” 

She crossed her arms. “Even if it did, this is asinine. You know better. A confession gleaned in this manner would be considered under duress. Inadmissible. Worse- it’ll indict the both of you. You should just let him go and hope he doesn’t press charges.” 

Showing her inability to deal with this situation, Jessica scoffed hard and turned around. “You two really are more alike than you know. How come it took me to get the both of you together?” 

Jeri shook her head. “So at least one of you has some sense, then.” Reading the room. Knowing you’d already tried to tell Jessica this wasn’t going to work. “You need more than whatever the hell this is.” 

Trying to figure anything else on the spot you asked, “What about the survivor group?” “Hearsay. What else do you have?” 

Jessica pointed to the laptop. “What about the videos?” A sense of desperation was rearing its ugly head. “His parents-” 

Jeri stopped her. “-were evil scientists, yes. I listened to the files you sent. But there's nothing to link the boy in that video to the man you are torturing.”

“Then we’ll make a new video.” It really didn’t feel good that you were so far in this know that Jessica was backing everything up as we. Did you really want to do this? “I’ll force him to use his powers.” 

The air in the room went a little cold as Jeri shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “There’s no time.” 

Confusion struck you the quickest. “No time?” 

“The DA offered Hope a plea bargain. All the stories, all the crazy claims coming out of the woodwork- it makes for bad press. They want it done.” 

You stepped one pace back, not really removing yourself from this situation but… thinking. Jessica was ramping up. “No. I’m too close- I have him.” Ah. Suddenly… no longer we. Why was that? Everything was slipping through her fingers. And you had a feeling… had this really been about Hope? The entire time? Some part of it must have been but… 

“Hope will do twenty years. Maybe fifteen for good behavior. If she turns it down she could do life. I have a legal obligation to present this plea deal to my client.” It sucked that Hogarth was the only one trying to make any sense out of this. Anyone trying to do right by Hope. Because- ...surely it had to have been obvious, right? You’d never take down Kilgrave. Not like this. Their arguing went on behind you as the reality of this situation started to dawn.

There isn’t a jail in the world that can hold Kilgrave.

When I get out of here-

“You need a witness with legal authority.” 

“What about her?” This broke you free and you found yourself closer to Kilgrave’s cell than to the two women arguing at the table behind you. Turning you gave them a confused look. Jessica continued, waving her hand about, “She’s party with the fucking UN. If anyone has legal authority over this bullshit world that they put together- it’s her-” 

Jeri’s tone was extremely stern. “You need to calm yourself and think about this rationally. The both of you kidnapped this man. Have had him here for who knows how long. And you want to use her as an authority over the situation? She’s biased. If you wanted to use her, you would have been smart to leave her out of it until now. As it is, she’s useless. She’s just as implicated as you are. And a judge would never authorize her as a credible source- let alone being even able to use this as evidence for a jury.” 

Jessica’s disappointment was a hot flash that you just didn’t need right now. “So- what- I need like- a cop? Or a judge?” 

“Either would be fine. But the DA is giving me a forty-eight hour window to decide on the deal.” 

You wanted to interject. To ask if any of this was worth anything. But something was drawing you in closer. Sucking you in. That vortex that was swirling around Kilgrave was calling you. And so you turned away- in your uselessness- to go back to the cell. 

They continued to squabble until Jessica decided she was leaving. She was going to get a cop. The longer you stayed here the worse it would be. She called your name. “Stay here. I’ll be back. And then this can be over.” You gave her a weak nod, about all you could do. 

Then she was gone. And for a long while, you and Kilgrave just stared each other down. You crossed your arms, but he held his hands against the glass. As if yearning for any sort of contact. The air in the room was uncomfortable at best. But growing tenser by the second as you heard Jeri typing away on her phone. It didn’t take an empath to sense she was a little distracted by something in her personal life. 

And almost exactly an hour after Jessica had left, Jeri stood. “I need to take a phone call.” 

“I’m fine here.” She wasn’t asking your permission, but you gave it anyway. And as she moved to leave, you followed suit, going over to the table. And when the doors closed behind her, you flipped the audio back on. 

Immediately as you did so, he droned. “Oh, puppy…” And when you turned to look at him, he smiled. “My sweet, puppy. Won’t you come over here? Can we talk like civilized people?” Part of you wanted to disobey. Not give in. He had no power here. No power over you. But you went anyway. Slowly. In a shuffle of one foot after the other. And once there, his smile grew absolutely sunny as he rested his head on the glass. “That’s my good girl. I’m sorry… about what I said… it’s all Jessica- you couldn’t possibly understand, she just makes me so…” 

As he breathed a clenched breath out, you lifted your hands, matching his across the span of the glass, and then you laid your forehead against his, too, and closed your eyes. 

“Puppy, you are so sad… and so frightened. This isn’t you. I know you. This isn’t right. Let me out. The two of us- we can just- leave. Make it all go away. I’ll forget it ever happened. We can leave this all behind.” 

Trying so desperately to entreat you. To appeal to your sense of the greater good. As if he really knew you. Like he knew anything about you. 

It was why his shock was so pleasing as you lifted your head, pressing every part of yourself against the glass. Glaring at him. “I’m going to kill you.” 

You’d made this promise before. This one would not be unbroken, either. 

But it seemed to stun him. Frighten him, even. 

Good. 

“What? What did you just say to me?” Staring at you, eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe it. 

“Jessica might not see it yet, but I do.” Your voice lurched a little and you felt a hot wash of fresh tears. “There’s nothing more for you. You won’t change. You’ll just keep hurting people. I’m going to give you a mercy no one else has shown you. Mercy for you and the world.” 

That darkness circled in on him and then exploded. Strong and wild. His stupor died down as he looked at you. Eyes unmoving from yours. “So that’s it, then. You’ve decided I’m the villain. And you’ve decided I’ll die?” 

“That’s right, Kilgrave.” Soft as you replied, nuzzling your forehead against the glass. “I decided. A long time ago. And now it’s time. I’m going to kill you. So keep putting on a show. Keep running out the clock for Hope. None of it matters. The both of us know that. You’re just biding your time until you can get free- isn’t that what you said to me? That you’ll get free and torture me until I long for death?” Your suddenly heavy breathing fogged the glass with every strike. He was wild. You were wilder. “Just be thankful I’ll make it quick for you.” 

The two of you stared at each other for perhaps too long a time. Too close. If the glass wasn’t there, you’d be skin to skin. But finally, just as the doors opened and Jeri came back in, he smirked. “You really are an animal, aren’t you? That’s what I love about you. That’s what I’ve always wanted you to see. What I saw. You take whatever you like. You know, for a while, I had a mind about me to use you. To make Jessica see what I know is the truth.” 

Behind you, “What is he talking about?” 

Kilgrave slammed his balled fists against the glass. “But now I want the world to see you- see you the way I do. To know what you can do. I’m going to use you to your full potential, puppy. You’re going to make people kneel for me. Make them feel that I am their king. I am going to make you regret everything up until this point. Sooner than you think.” The two of you stared each other down until he hit his hands again and cast a glance sideways. “Let’s start, shall we! Did you know she has powers like mine? I’ll bet not. Everyone in her entire world- no, the entire world itself- is manipulated by her- yet I’m the dangerous one?” 

There was a muddy disbelief behind you, but it was overshadowed by shock. “...you’re enhanced?” It would have been easy to break away. To deny it. He was a crazy man in a cage, after all. He’d say anything to be free. But instead you just stared at him. And said nothing.

Kilgrave returned that toothy, wolfish smirk your way. His voice was a wet, gravelly whisper. “I said I’ll destroy your life. I meant it.” 

You’d held so still that entire time. Allowed yourself nothing. It was somehow so easy to square up to him again. “I said I’d kill you. I meant that more.”