#i was screaming and crying and punching the wall trying to draw all the mechanical bits

[xts0]

he got expldoed😞

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Do you have any autistic Scout headcanons? :P

Hell yeah!

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. A lot of people might think that Scout has ADHD, but I think he either has both ADHD and autism or just autism.

This is both because labeling Scout as having just ADHD is kind of a low-hanging fruit, and I also want to explore his symptoms a little more. So, in a word, I do, and thank you for asking about them!

*****************

Scout’s Spectrum:

So, where exactly does Scout fall on the autism spectrum?

First of all, he probably has both ADHD and autism, but wasn’t diagnosed with the latter until much later. This means that some of his symptoms were taken into account, but not all.

The ones that were paid attention to ramped up out of control, and the ones he didn’t hear about were stuffed away.

His ADHD symptoms include impulsiveness, need for stimulation, hyperfixations, forgetfulness, and insomnia; his autism symptoms include trouble with social skills, stimming, near inability to remember names and faces, lack of eye contact, hyperfixations again, and sensory processing issues, especially with noise and touch.

He used to have a lot of meltdowns when he was younger, usually about wearing new clothes and the amount of noise his eight brothers generated.

However, he was teased and pushed into masking nearly all the time, and made his whole personality about his ADHD, since that was what everyone accepted.

As he got older, he usually wrote off any autistic tendencies as either his ADHD or just “little habits” of his.

During his middle school years, he used energy drinks to bounce back from being exhausted every day after school. This would work, except those energy drinks would upset his ADHD, and would make it much harder to focus on even basic conversation.

After a while, he got such bad grades and had such a hard time making friends that Scout just stopped going to school altogether.

Baseball helped his focus, and the quick movement and thinking made a lot of sense to him. He never had to wait very long for the next development, and the instant gratification and community it provided supplemented what he never got at school.

With sports on his side, he rarely ever drank any energy drinks (the coach would never let them on the field), and he drank bucketfuls of water during every meet and game. Those teenage years were probably the healthiest he ever was.

However, with the amount of rumbles he got into with his brothers, and the turf wars that constantly raged in those neighborhoods, it was only a matter of time before his crime caught up with him.

After his first incarceration, he was booted from the team, which led to a downward spiral of unhealthy coping mechanisms - which included fighting someone tooth and nail whenever he could.

Even if he lost the fight, it not only catered to his impulsive nature and impatience, but also gave him roughly the same sense of friendship and camaraderie that baseball had.

One thing led to another, and by the time Mann Co. found him, Scout was a monster in hand to hand (and bat to bat) and had racked up quite the criminal record.

A perfect mercenary, ripe for the picking.

On The Team:

Scout very quickly adopted the “stupid, scrappy Boston boy” persona.

It was the only thing that made sense, and it kept him from having to try too hard in both the battlefield and socially.

Besides, that meant that he could be as silly, forgetful, and fidgety as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

And if he ever needed to take a break from the team, he figured everyone would appreciate the quiet.

The only thing that ever gave him away was him occasionally dissociating right when battle began, especially if the day had been stressful.

It was usually how he calmed down after a fight when he was young, but now he sometimes slid into that state when he was overwhelmed.

However, a yell from one of his teammates would usually snap him out of it.

Medic noticed this pretty early on, and wanted to look more into it, but Scout would keep making excuses not to get a mental examination.

He would blame it on zoning out, being tired, drinking too many Bonks - whatever it took for people to stop asking.

And, eventually, they did.

Even Medic stopped asking after a while - he couldn’t get a thing out of Scout.

This “try so little that when you do try it’s above average” charade worked for a long time. In fact, it went on for so long that Scout forgot how much he was actually capable of.

He began to internalize the stupidity, the exacerbation, the many comments on how dumb he was, everything.

The only time he ever gave his all was on the battlefield - moving fast, memorizing strategies, doing complicated footwork, knowing exactly how much force it took to crush someone’s skull with his bat.

That was one of the only things that he felt good doing, the only thing he could really work on without him being “found out.”

That and drawing, though he never showed the actual pieces to anyone. It was all stick figures and crooked lines with everyone else.

Sometimes, though, Scout wouldn’t be paying attention and he’d let something slip.

One time, Engineer was looking for his screwdriver, and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere.

Scout, not looking up from his comic, said, “Under the couch cushion, hard hat.”

Engineer bent down and reached into the couch, and his hand came back with his red and yellow striped screwdriver.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

At first Engineer thought Scout had just hid it, but Scout explained, still not paying attention:

“Last time we went out on th’ field, you had it on your belt, like always. But I was walkin’ by your workshop, you were usin’ a quarter to tighten a screw or somethin’. Your screwdriver had to be somewhere between the battlefield and your workshop. Engie, you’re like freakin’ clockwork. Every day, after a fight, you go to the kitchen, get a water, go to that couch, between the second and third cushion from the left, and sit there. Then ya go back to the fridge to get lunch and a beer, and ya go to your workshop until somebody needs you for somethin’. Your back loop in your tool belt is looser than all the others, ‘cause the screwdriver pulls against it when you sit down. The shank was probably in between the two cushions, and when you got up, it fell in. Demo, Pyro, and Heavy all sit on the second or third cushion at some point, so it got shimmied down. And since that’s the only time you sat down, ‘cause you woulda heard it if it dropped on the floor, and I…uh…”

“I’ll be damned,” Engie repeated, and felt the back tool belt loop. It was indeed loose.

Scout finally looked up, and realized what had happened.

“Uh, uh - l-lucky guess, huh Engie?”

Engineer squinted behind his goggles. “Yeah…real lucky…”

What ensued was Engie trying to get Scout to turn into a B.L.U Spy by chasing him around with his wrench. After a few good hits, though, Engineer saw that it was the teammate he knew and loved.

“But…how didja…?”

Scout threw his hand up, the other rubbing the back of his head where he’d been hit.

“I toldja Engie! Lucky guess! Jesus!”

Ever since then, Scout chose his words more carefully.

The Breakdown:

But, unfortunately, Scout could not pretend forever.

There was one week where Scout’s assignment count was so high that, if he wasn’t in a fight, he was on a mission.

Usually, Pauling wouldn’t trust him with so much, but no one else was available - or willing - to do the jobs.

Even when she was getting concerned about the amount of hours Scout was putting in, he blew it off.

“It’s no sweat, Miss Pauling! Their practically givin’ me the pay day. Those yahoos don’t know who they’re messin’ with.”

Over time, though, Scout had a harder and harder time staying focused and alert.

He’d sleep through alarms, stare off into space, zone out completely during briefing (not that he didn’t already do that), have a hard time hearing people in battle - even through his headset - ignore Spy’s taunts, and even forget to bring his bat onto the field.

Nothing seemed to help - Bonk!, warming up, stretching, cold showers, setting reminders, nothing.

And the team was starting to notice.

At first it was with the regular frustration - maybe Scout was just being lazy.

But as time went on, and his condition grew worse, their scorn turned into worry. They implored Medic to do something, but he had no way of getting through to Scout.

The doctor wasn’t above simply sedating him and dragging him into his lab for a check-up. However, he had a feeling that this was more than a physical issue.

The worst came when Scout was doing a routine battle with the B.L.U team on the field.

Everything had started out okay - he even remembered to bring his bad this time - but suddenly, everything was ear-splittingly loud.

He couldn’t focus on more than one sound at once, much less communicate the best course of action to his teammates.

He ended up hiding in a dilapidated shed, in a dusty, dark corner, somewhere between zoning out and panicking.

Scout’s head was in his knees, he was shaking, close to crying, when a sudden splitting of wood roused him.

A B.L.U Soldier had kicked his way into the shed, either having heard Scout or to hide from the other team.

Scout was stunned at first, but something of a blind terror filled him. He picked up his bat, screamed, and started pummeling the surprised Soldier.

At some point, he threw aside his bat and began to swing punch after punch, just like he did in his gang days when he had felt overwhelmed. Still screaming. Still crying.

By the time Scout had dissolved into a rocking, sobbing mess, the Soldier was long dead, with a gigantic pool of blood staining Scout’s shoes.

No one even knew where Scout was until a few hours later, when Spy heard a faint note of “Sexbomb” coming from Scout’s Walkman.

Scout had crawled into the shed’s framework, between the outer and inner wall, and was playing a specific verse over and over and over again, looking like he was on another plane of existence.

Spy immediately called for Medic, who had to lift Scout out by the underarms through a jagged hole in the side of the building. By then, the fight was over, so they could take him directly to the lab.

Medic’s Evaluation:

“I’m guessing zhis is your first mental breakdown?”

“Mental…doc, I ain’t crazy. Wait, you’re not goin’ to put me in a straight jacket, are ya?”

“If you’re not doing anyzhing later.”

Medic started to laugh, but quickly realized this might not be the time.

“No, Scout, everyvun has a mental breakdown at least vunce in their lives. It’s a…how do you say…a vake-up call of sorts. Vhen your body has no other options left.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“For zhe past few months, you health, both physical and mental, has been deteriorating. You eat less. You talk less. Your attacks are lackluster. You have bags under your eyes. You flinch vhen somevun yells for you. You stare off into space. Your routine, vhich usually has at least some changes, has become stringent, as if you can’t possibly expend any more energy into extra activities. You have avoided Demoman on zhe battlefield, even though you usually use him for cover.”

Medic flipped through his notes.

“I have pages and pages of your decline. However, as a scientist, I believe it is caused by zhe same source. And, though I usually respect my patient’s right to privacy vhen it comes to these sorts of matters, I believe you’ve been keeping something from me. Something that I should know as your general practitioner…your doctor.”

Scout shrugged, already shutting out the conversation.

Medic sighed.

“Maybe I tried to talk to you about zhis too soon. After all, you’ve just had a very sudden and exhausting episode. But…perhaps…”

Medic took a sheet of printer paper from his clipboard and a spare pen from his pocket.

“…zhere is an alternative.”

Scout was still unresponsive, but Medic continued.

“Zhere is a patient in my vaiting room vis a metal pole through the chest. It vill take me at least an hour to properly remove it, and a few minutes more to heal zhe area. Vhile I do zhat, vhy don’t you draw how you feel?”

Medic smiled.

“I know how much it grounds you.”

It wasn’t until Medic left that Scout actually picked up the pen, but he began drawing immediately.

For the first time in a while, he wasn’t trying to hide his strokes or scratch up the cleaner lines. No more stick figures. No more pretending.

Five minutes later, he was fully engrossed.

Medic started to walk in at one point, but, seeing how relaxed Scout was, decided to give him a few more minutes.

He deserved it.

[overwhore-s]

Hi 🥺 um. 👉🏼👈🏼 may I request Levi x reader? Where something went wrong (a mission, deaths whatever) and reader is just ... numb. Levi really cares for her (secretly loves her) and he has to bathe her, she kind of breaks down in the tub. He can’t leave her like that for the night so he watches over her too? Is that okay? Or too much? It’s okay if it is. I’m just a sucker for hurt/comfort.

With you by my side (I just want to survive)

Keep reading for 1970 words of angst, hurt/comfort and general sadness. I don’t tend to write stuff like this often, so I might be sorta out of practice, but I do love Levi, so writing this was a blast. Huge thank you goes out to sweet Anon for inspiring this!

song reference: dreamlife by sleeping at last

Warm hands on your shoulders, keeping you steady. Blood leaking from the cut on your forehead shrouds your vision and you feel light, almost like a feather. The world around you takes a shade of crimson, the earth, the trees, the sky, all red. Your eyes are opened but you stay unresponsive, and he stops every few seconds just to check on your pulse, his finger smearing the blood, yours, his, someone else’s, all over you neck.  

It’s reckless, he knows, to show his back while the battle rages on. Titans and soldiers clashing, a storm of steel and too many teeth. And yet, he has to get to his horse. The fight is lost; but he can’t lose you as well.

Finally, Erwin signals the retreat.  

A bittersweet feeling overtakes him. He hates running, hates the thought of the deaths of his comrades being for naught. Part of him hates Erwin for being so reckless with your lives, his own life, but most of all, yours. You, who never hesitates. Never complains.

Finally, he catches sight of his horse. It whinnies and kicks at the grass, distressed. Levi whistles and it comes galloping towards him, as loyal as ever.

Suddenly, your knees buckle underneath you, the strength all but sapped from your body. Levi catches you, supports your weight with his own. You are so strong, always, a soldier in your own right. It hurts him to see you like this, shell-shocked, beaten, damn near breaks his heart.

Your eyes close, slowly, almost like you’re falling asleep.

Concerned, he whispers your name. No answer. He repeats it, alarmed. Your grip on his shoulder tightens momentarily, weak but reassurance enough for him to march on, half-dragging you behind him. He’s thankful for his strength as he hoists you atop the horse. He sits with his chest to your back, making sure you don’t fall off by wrapping an arm around your waist.

He barely concentrates on riding the horse, more concerned about your slowing pulse. Will you reach Wall Rose soon enough? It’s almost nightfall. Titans can’t move in the dark; they should give up their pursuit soon.

His theory proves to be right. About an hour later, the rumbling steps of titans fade into the distance. Still, Erwin shows no sign of slowing. Good.  Levi will have a word with him later, but for now, his only concern is getting you to safety.  

“We’re almost there,” he says, to the wind, himself, you, passed out from exhaustion in the saddle in front of him. He chases your heartbeat across your skin, only content when it pounds steadily against his fingertips. Wall Rose is finally visible and he feels so relieved he could cry. “Hold on. Hold on.”

 ***

 You’re awake, but you dream. Everything and everyone seems to be bathed in a golden light. Hange, as they clean and bandage your many wounds while arguing about something with Erwin, who stands by the door, looking regal and authoritative as always. Knowing them, it’s about capturing more titans for experiments. If your face didn’t feel like it was made from stone, you’d crack a smile. Typical Hange.

There’s a fourth someone in the room. He’s seated in the chair next to your bed, face hidden by his hands. They are nice hands, you suppose, slender but strong-looking at the same time. You’ve seen them deal punches, wield weapons, pet horses and hold dainty teacups. Rough on the outside, gentle on the inside. You want to reach out and brush your knuckles against his, but your arm won’t move. Like it’s made of lead, your body feels oh so heavy, and the softness of the bed, suffocating.

Your eyes dart from Levi – Levi, your captain, your friend, your guardian angel – to the large wound on your thigh, currently being stitched by Hange. You frown. That wound. Like someone’s jaws left an imprint on your flesh. When did that happen? Your memory is muddied, unclear, confused.

There should be pain. Where is the pain? You briefly wonder, before losing consciousness again.

***

The second time you wake up, it’s into a nightmare. The physical pain you can deal with. But once the memories start resurfacing, you start to shake and shake. You try to scream, but nothing comes out. You sit up in the bed, hug your knees to your chest, protecting yourself from the outside world.

It’s no use. The world that’s out to get you right now hides within your mind, guilt and despair and grief.

Grief. Your comrades – what did they look like before…?! In your current state, you can only picture them on the ground, no, not them, just their bodies, broken and lifeless. The way they screamed, Walls, their last words repeat in your head until they sound almost like accusations, and finally a first tear rolls down your cheek, followed by many, many others. You tremble and sob, wanting to tear at your stitches until you bleed out. How do you get to survive, when everyone under your command has died? Your squad, always so reliable, so supportive in and out of battle, has been massacred and you did nothing to help them.

You’re a failure of a leader, failure of a soldier, failure even as a human being. Gradually, your sobs come to a halt, sadness replaced by numbness. Everything seems pointless now, with them dead.

During the day, you’re visited by many people, but none of them succeed in cheering you up. You can see your civilian friends pitying you, and the scouts look too haunted by their own demons to be able to help you. It just makes you sink further into hopelessness.

You drink only a little, and eat nothing at all, even as Hange forces a spoon full of porridge past your lips. They sigh in defeat after half an hour of fighting, muttering something about you being more stubborn than even Levi. They order someone to draw you a bath, and, with a last sympathetic look in your direction, walk out of the room.

***

“The water must be getting cold.”

You haven’t left your bed. Levi’s leaning against the door, brow furrowed in concern. He’s heard from Hange; you don’t eat, don’t communicate, never move out of this room. You’ve managed to escape relatively unscathed, thanks to his quick reflexes on the battlefield, but you’ve suffered some mental scars as well and those are the ones he’s really worried about.

“C’mon. You have to bathe. You stink of titan guts.”

Normally, you would have laughed. But this time, he notices no change in your expression, not even a small smile as reward for his best efforts.

He approaches you like he would a wounded animal, light on his feet. “Come on,” he repeats, in a gentler tone. “I’ll help you.”

At last, you nod, never one to disobey a direct order. You attempt to rise from the bed, only to tumble right into his arms. “Easy,” he says, voice thick with something he can’t quite name. “I got you.”

You nod again, face buried in his shoulder.

He helps you undress, his movements mechanical, his gaze respectfully averted. Your chemise pools around your ankles, followed by your underwear. He’s seen you naked before – there is no shame among soldiers – but with the two of you, it feels different, somehow more intimate. He turns around and waits for you to get into the bath.

“Levi.” A simple rasp of his name, signaling him you’re ready.

With your knees drawn up to your chest, you peer at him from under dark lashes. He swallows on an empty throat, grabbing the washcloth and soap someone left on the table and coming closer to you.

You are both silent as Levi washes your hair. He works efficiently but gently at the same time, massaging the soap into your scalp before rinsing it off by pouring a cup of water over it. He’s considerate with the washcloth too, rubbing your skin firmly enough to get rid of caked blood and dirt, but not too rough to irritate your many scratches and bruises.

Seeing your wounds makes something inside him break. Perhaps it’s the knowledge he did nothing to stop this from happening – you getting hurt, your squad getting wiped out, the mission failing. His hands start to shake, and he needs to take a moment bracing against the tub to calm himself.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you speak suddenly, voice weak but insistent. “And it’s not your fault.”

He scoffs in disbelief. You’re just unbelievable. Barely functioning, and still trying to take care of everyone around her. Empathetic to a fault. Sometimes he wonders if that’s part of the reason why he loves you. “Who else’s?”

Your shoulders begin to tremble as you sob out a single word. “Mine.”

You blaming yourself is a natural reaction, of course. He felt the same way when he lost his own squad during that botched operation in the forest. Even more so years ago with Furlan and Isabel.

Being the sole survivor is a different kind of pain.

“Bullshit,” he grits his teeth, jaw aching. “You want to hate someone? Hate the titans for eating them. Hate Erwin for giving the order. Hate me if you must. But you don’t get to do this to yourself. I won’t let you.”

You turn to face him, fast enough to make the water, now a depressing shade of reddish brown, spill from the bathtub. “I don’t know if I can survive this, Levi,” you admit, the sight of your tear-stained face enough to make him want to cry. “They visited me while I slept. They called out to me.”

He wishes he could wax poetic like Erwin, make out their deaths to be heroic instead of brutal, needless and terrifying. But he’s never been good with words, and he’s even worse with expressing feelings, so all that he can manage is a simple but fitting: “They were saying goodbye.”

Your eyes brim with tears again and he’s afraid he’s upset you, until you smile. It’s a brief, barely-there smile, but it still counts. “I like it, but no. I think they were saying see you later.”

He can’t and doesn’t want to argue with that. “We’ll all meet together again. On the other side.”

You nod and close your eyes, still smiling, and he thinks you look serene for a moment. Until you start shivering, and he remembers how much time has passed and that the water must be freezing already.

“Here you are.” He hands you a towel, giving you time to dry off before returning with a fresh set of clothing. Now dressed, you retreat into bed, pulling the covers over your form.

Levi doesn’t move.

“I’m not leaving,” he answers, before the question can even leave your mouth. You’ve known each other, fought beside each other for such a long time, sometimes he feels as if though he could read your mind.  

“Good. I don’t want you to,” you say, almost pleadingly.

Giving a sigh of relief, he makes his way to the chair where he spent the last night as well, only for you to pat the empty space next to you.

On the bed.

Oh.

“Absolutely not,” he starts to say, but you cut him off.

“You get so little sleep as it is. It’s the least I can do to thank you…for everything. Besides…” You trail off, expression turning solemn once again. You might be doing slightly better than before, but you’re still haunted. Only time can heal you, it would be foolish to think he has any power over what you might be feeling.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

But he can make sure no monsters will get you tonight.

[brittababbles]

Target Practice

Din Djarin x female reader          

Authors Note/Warnings: Well… this is Young Din, and Young Din was a wild child. He’s about 23 here. So… warnings, let’s see. A hint of dub con, various somewhat light bdsm elements (tying up, blindfolding, biting without drawing blood, overstimulation), possessive Din, drug use, Din’s a mean lover. I don’t know you guys, this just kind of came out…

You ever have the feeling you’re being watched? you think, feeling the hair on your scalp prickle slightly.

Even across the hanger, easily a thousand meters away, with at least ten people between you, you can feel the Mandalorian’s gaze upon you. It makes you shiver, though certainly not from cold. Hardly. The hanger is hotter than sin today. You’ve stripped down to a thin, practically transparent slip of a shirt and a tight pair of shorts. Which is maybe what is drawing his gaze. Maybe.

You swivel on the spot and return his stare, meeting the line of his visor solemnly. He’s leaning casually against the loading ramp of his ship, the ship you’d worked so hard to repair over the last week. He’s completely ignoring the activity behind him as the crew loads the Razor Crest for a job. No, he’s not interested in that. He’s interested in the long expanse of bare skin of your legs, the way your top clings to your breasts. You can’t even see his face, but you can feel it in his stare.

It wasn’t completely unjustified. You were lovers, of a sort.

You’d never once seen his face; no one had, as far as you were aware. But you knew enough. He was a 20-something young human man under all that beskar. Young, and fiery. It came out in waves as he pounded your body into his mattress.

You tried hard not to think about what he did when he was off the station. You’d heard that Twi’lek cackling as she retold the story in the cantina.

Target practice…

Not that you were surprised particularly. It was just so… brutal.

But that wasn’t an especially unwarranted descriptor when it came to Mando. Brutal.

You turn your attention back to the blaster you’re repairing, and with the comings and goings of ships in the hanger, manage to miss the Razor Crest’s exit. When you look back up, he’s gone.

The job will take hours. You shrug to yourself and focus on your work.

When you straighten your spine several hours later, it’s quiet in the hanger. A few odd engineers are scattered about the large room, but otherwise there’s very little movement. Deciding you need a break from your small pile of half-repaired weapons, you stand and stretch, reaching your arms toward the ceiling and arching your back.

A gloved hand snaked around your throat. There’s no pressure, but you gasp all the same.

“Come with me,” his modulated voice growls in your ear.

You put up no fight. Why would you fight him when a faint buzz is growing in your belly? He steers you almost mechanically through the corridors, passing nobody along the way until he reaches his quarters. Without a word he opens the door and shoves you inside.

He’s on you in an instant, crowding you, pressing you backward into the bed. His beskar is cold; you can feel it through your shirt easily.

“Looking so pretty, out there where anyone can see you, hmm?” he hums softly, pinning you beneath him.

Abruptly something cool snaps closed around your wrists, and he deftly adjusts your arms until he can lock the binders to the thin metal bars that make up the headboard of his bed. You squirm, adjusting to your new position, as he leans back to admire the way you’re stretched out before him.

“So lovely. But even in this, I think there’s more to see,” he says.

He caresses your collarbone gently. Then, abruptly, seizes the neckline of your shirt and rips it clean down the middle. You give a soft squeak of surprise as the much-cooler air of his bunk hits your skin, making your nipples pebble. Mando tears more strategically at the sleeves, ripping the shirt off your body completely. You eagerly lift your hips, allowing him to finish undressing you. Then he wraps the ruin of your shirt around your eyes.

He’s off the bed in an instant. The room goes dark as you stare at the ceiling, already breathing heavy. You hear the sound of metal impacting metal as he discards his armor. There’s the unmistakable hiss of the locks of his helmet, a final muted clang of the beskar hitting the floor, and then silence.

Without warning, he’s between your thighs, making no effort at subtly. He bites harshly at your legs, causing you to yip with each impact.

“Mine,” he growls, “your pretty little legs are mine, cyar’ika.”

His voice is no longer modulated by the helmet. The tenor of his words spread up your spine.

“That pretty face is mine. Your ass? Mine. And this wet little pussy? Whose pussy is this, (y/n)?”

You crane your neck to look at him, knowing full well you can’t see a thing, and gasp out your answer as he slowly sinks a finger inside you for emphasis.

“Yours” you whimper.

You feel him grin against the skin of your inner thigh.

“That’s right, sweet girl. It’s all mine.”

His lips impact your pussy so suddenly that you find yourself trying to scurry up the bed. He pins you down with one arm slung across your pelvis, slipping the finger on his other hand, already buried inside you, out only to push two in. His tongue swirls around your clit, eagerly laps at your lips, then returns to your clit again. You don’t realize you’re shrieking, only that there’s some sound filling the room. He pulls your orgasm from you rapidly, far faster than you’ve ever come, stroking your insides with a pair of calloused fingers as you clamp tightly around them. Your hips try to buck against the pressure from his arm, but he’s far too strong for you to throw him off. You’re gasping for breath, eyes rolling, when the soft ripple of his laughter finally penetrates your brain.

“Good girl,” he purrs, slipping his fingers out of you and arching over you.

You’re far too out of touch with reality to respond, and barely notice as he reaches off to the side of the bed momentarily.

“These perfect tits are mine too, sweetheart.”

You feel something powdery fall across your chest. The strange, harsh scent hits your nose a moment later. Spice. He presses his face to your breasts and snorts the powdering substance off your skin.

“Oh, Maker,” you groan, unable to contain your words

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Mando mumbles.

He nuzzles against your chest for a moment, though you can practically feel his skin warming under the influence of the spice. His hips are cradled between your legs and you can feel how hard he is against your oversensitive skin. He strokes his fingers over your ribcage before abruptly rearing back to inspect his work on your pussy.

“Think you’re wet enough for me, sweet girl?”

You whimper in response. You can feel the soft press of the head of his cock against your entrance as he waits for your answer.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he says smugly.

“Yes,” you whisper, “Yes yes yes please…”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He sheaths himself in you in a single thrust, punching the air from your lungs as he does so. The stretch is magnificent, and you gulp in a breath of air before letting out a cry of his name.

“Mando, gods, Mando, please…” you whine as he pounds relentlessly into you.

You have no idea what you’re pleading for, only that it feels like the only thing you can say. Your cries mingle with his grunts of effort. His fingers wrap around one of your ankles and you suddenly find your leg draped over his shoulder. The angle allows him to somehow hit a deeper spot inside you. You can feel your body tightening, the spring under your skin preparing to release. You want to scream, but he’s pounding into you so hard you don’t think you can catch your breath enough to scream.

“Uhn. So tight. So perfect. Come for me, pretty girl,” he growls

As abruptly as the first, this orgasm hits with the force of a sucker punch. You writhe underneath him, shuddering as electricity tears up your spine. You finally let out a scream, feeling your pussy clamp down on him. It doesn’t slow his pace at all, however, and he continues to pound you straight through it. You twist your free leg around his hips in an attempt to draw him closer, fuller inside you somehow, as the throbbing inside you eases slightly.

“Mando, Mando… Mando,” you chant his name at him.

“That’s my girl. That’s my girl,” he answers, equally as mindlessly.

More unexpectedly than anything, your body reacts to his words in a third orgasm so strong you arch off the bed, nearly yanking your shoulders from their sockets in the process. Your vision blinks with stars as your head presses downward, shoving your chest further up into his. This time he groans, and his thrusts lose their rhythm. You’ve got his cock in a vice and his ragged thrusts seems to drag the walls of your pussy with them.

Abruptly, he lets out a loud groan, arching away from you and pulling himself from inside you. You feel something hot spill over your breasts. He groans again and collapses into your chest. You can feel his cock twitching against your thigh. His full weight is on top of you, but the solid mass of his body is oddly comforting in the moment.

“Oh, cyar’ika,” he mumbles into your skin.

Lazily, almost as if it’s a reflex than an actual thought, Mando reaches up and unlocks the binders around your wrists. The moment your hands are free, you tangle your fingers in his hair. His curls are lightly dampened with sweat. You scratch your fingernails against his scalp lightly, earning you a languid moan. He slowly arches down your body, coming to rest with his head near your chest.

You’re so distracted by the sensation of his body weight that you don’t notice the catlike licks to your breast until he’s nearly finished. It penetrates your stupefied brain that he’s lapping his own cum off your chest, and the thought alone makes your pussy clinch.

“Mando…maker….Mando…” you pant.

He smiles. You can feel the edges of his teeth on your breast.

“Ready to go again, cyar’ika?” he purrs.

You moan. He chuckles softly.

“I guess so…”

 You wake up on your back, your eyes still covered, aware of the weight of one of his arms slung across your midsection. The room is pitch black, but you make no move to take off the blindfold. You reach out carefully, finding the soft strands of his hair with your fingers. You brush a little curl off his forehead, earning you a soft grunt.

“Good morning, sweet girl,” he mumbles.

You don’t answer but continue to trace his features unseeingly. Mando closes his eyes, seeming to enjoy your touch.

“I’m sorry I was little rough with you last night,” he says slowly.

“A little?” your voice cracks and harmonizes with itself, still recovering from your shrieks of the night before, “Mando, I can still feel you inside me.”

“Good,” he mutters, leaning forward and capturing your lips with his.

He pulls the breath from you with a single, deep kiss. You drape your arms around the back of his neck and twist your fingers into his hair. He gives a soft groan into your mouth, making you shudder under him again.

And then he’s gone, his weight fully removed from you as he unclasps the binders from his bed. You hear the clatter of metal again as he reapplies his armor, then something soft drapes across your chest.

“You can’t walk the corridors like that,” he says slyly.

Unable to find a response, you trace the object on your chest and realize it’s one of his own shirts. You hear the door open, then close, and you abruptly yank off your blindfold.

You’re alone in the room. The ruins of your shirt hang in one hand. The sheets are tangled around you, showing the full evidence of your exertions the night before. Carefully, you shimmy into Mando’s shirt, then hunt up your shorts from yesterday and pull them on. Your legs feel weak, wobbly, and you lean against the wall while getting your bearings.

When you’re sure you can walk the distance to your own quarters, you slip from the room, hoping to catch nobody’s eye as you slink along the corridor. There’s no glint of beskar; Mando’s nowhere to be seen.

When you reach your own bunk, you slide inside and immediately rip his shirt from your body, inspecting the marks he’s left across your breasts, your ribs, your belly. You pull the shirt to your face and inhale his scent slowly before sinking into your own bed, feeling oddly empty without him near.

[datawyrms]

Changed Hunt

For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww) lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well

"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."

Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)

Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard  that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.

Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.

It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.

“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”

Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.

“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”

Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn’t working, and the glow just grew  brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.

“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.

“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”

“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.

So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal. It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.

He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.

“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”

“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”

“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.

First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out.  Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!

Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”

The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.

“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”

“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”

“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”

Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”

Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”

“Wall art?”

Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?

At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”

“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”

“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”

Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better!  What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.

“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”

Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”

That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”

“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!” 

More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”

“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”

“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”

Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.

“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”

Greeeeeeat.

[greaterawarness]

"What's Owed." Brothers CH. 4

(The Domino Squad finally has a contact that could possibly help them into a Mandalorian clan. She might also help them to their graves. Fives questions everything that has happened to him so far and what it all means.)

“I haven’t seen you boys before,” The woman says with her dark helmet scanning over them. Fives felt completely paralyzed in her gaze. The Mandalorian shifts so she can bring her hand up to her chin. “What brings five strapping men before me?”

Hevy swallows before speaking.

“Ma’am,” He starts shakily. “My brothers and I… well, we were looking for someone to help us.”

“Help? What kind of help?” She purrs.

“We need help making a name for ourselves. We’re wanting to join one of the clone Mandalorian clans but… we have nothing to show so far.” Hevy goes on. The distant screams grow louder. The woman tilts her head as she thinks.

“You’re lucky,” She says while pushing herself off her desk. “I have a soft spot for clones. You could even say I have a weakness for your kind.”

She walks in slow distinctive steps around them.

“What do you have to offer me?” She asks finally. She walks back around to sit behind her desk with the blue jaig eyes watching over her.

“We don’t have much money,” Fives says after exchanging a look with his brother. “But we could offer you services.”

This makes the woman burst out laughing. Heat spreads across Fives face. She sits back in her chair deep in thought.

“I suppose you’ll have to show me what you can do then.” She says standing. She walks to the side to pull a black door open. She looks over at them. “You coming?”

They hesitantly walk after the Mandalorian. Fives can feel the uncertainty from his brothers. None of them knew what they were getting into. They walk down a dark staircase that opened to a training ground hidden in the basement. Three female Mandalorians spar in the space below. The leader whistles under her helmet making the three women stop and clear the area. She tosses her chin towards the training ground. Fives and his brothers climb down a ladder to the training ground. The three Mandalorian women who were sparing bring them blasters. Fives holds his in his hand getting used to the feel. It was lighter than the ones they practiced with on Kamino. The three Mandalorians climb up to stand next to their leader.

“Alright boys,” The leader Mandalorian says. “We’re gonna start out easy. Stand behind the yellow line and take out the targets.”

They walk to stand behind a yellow line just below the Mandalorians. They hold their blasters up waiting for the targets. Small mechanical balls hover above the ground. They move in basic predictable movements. Fives and his brothers manage to take them out easily. When the last one is down, they look to the woman.

“Good, good, now let’s make it more difficult.” She says punching in something on her wrist. This time there were only yellow lines running along the walls. They were sporadic and fast. They missed a lot more this time but seemed to still keep up. Fives fired over and over but never seemed to hit a target. He lets out an aggravated breath before closing his eyes. He could almost see it with his eyes closed. It was moving much slower in his mind. He fires. When he opens his eyes, he’s hit it. He lets out a relieved sigh. The lights disappear before the woman leaps down to the training ground.

“Alright,” she says, crossing her arms. “You aren’t complete shit with a blaster. Good. But how are you at hand-to-hand combat?”

They exchange looks with each other.

“Ma’am?” Echo says making the woman laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. You won’t hurt me. I just want to see what you boys can do. You can come all at once or one at a time. Makes no difference to me.” She says taking a few steps back before taking a fighting stance. They set their blasters on a table and spread out. None of them wanted to go first. It felt wrong. Five guys up against one woman. Of course, she did look like she could handle herself. Cutup is the first to attack. The woman easily grabs his arm pulling him off course before tumbling on the ground. Fives, Echo, Hevy, and Droidbait take this chance to attack. Fives wasn’t completely sure how he and Hevy ran straight into each other or how Droidbait got thrown into Echo but when they come to from the floor the woman is standing with her arms crossed. “Is this all you have? Oh sweethearts, are you sure you want to join a Mandalorian clan? They’re dangerous after all.”

Anger burned in Fives. He gets to his feet and swings a hit. She blocks with one hand pushing him back with the other. Her foot catches his causing him to fall flat on his back. The air knocks out of his lungs. His brothers take this chance to attack. This woman is a beast. Fives stops himself from just charging. He wipes the sweat from his brow. When Echo and Cutup get up on the other side of the room Fives signals them to try some flanking movements. It was a signal they used on Kamino. He hoped they remembered what it meant. Hevy and Droidbait catch on and keep the woman occupied. With Echo and Cutup flanking her Fives pauses before charging again. She first focuses on Echo and Cutup just long enough before Fives can surprise her planting a hit to her side. She stumbles letting Hevy take her down. Fives thinks they might have done it until Hevy lets out of cry of pain. All he saw was a black blur before pain exploded from the back of his head.

When he comes to, he and his brothers are all groaning. They sit up looking around to make sure everyone was okay. A slow clap draws their attention to the front of the room. The woman claps with a low laugh.

“I have to admit,” She says while walking forward. “I’m impressed. You might just make it after all.”

“So, you’ll help us?” Hevy asks with an arm wrapped around his gut. The woman lets out a sigh.

“I suppose. Go. Let me think on this a while longer. When it’s time I will reach out to you.” She says. they exchange a look one last time before getting to their feet. They’re escorted back to the front door. A hand lands on Cutup’s shoulder making them freeze. “And one more thing. Tell Rafa that if she ever dares to share my information again… I’ll gut her and her sister in the street.”

With that they’re shoved out of the door before it slams shut behind them. They stumble onto the street wincing at their bruises.

“Well,” Cutup says after a pause. “We have a contact.”

“Yeah, but what is she going to do to help us? And more important. What is she going to ask for in return?” Echo asks. None of them knew. They weren’t sure they wanted to know. Not now at least. So, they headed home. To tired and sore to worry about it now, they decide to shower and rest. They ordered some takeout and huddle around their holovid. They watch one of Wolffe’s boxing matches before they start flipping through the channels. Fives plops down on Echo making him squirm into Droidbait. Hevy and Cutup decide to join in until they’ve created this mangled pile of elbows and knees.

“Fuck…you…” Echo wheezes at the bottom of the pile. They ease off him so he can breathe. Fives pats his back before sitting on the remote making the image change to a familiar face. They slowly stop moving as Senator Amidala takes shape in their living room.

“… this is why the clones deserve the same rights as any one of us!” She says. The image changes to a different senator.

“These clones are violent by nature! If we look at the data taken from last year alone it proves that over half the crime in this city was by clones!” The Senator yells earning some cheers and yells in the background. Anger burns in Fives chest.

“What choice do they have! As of right now employers can deny jobs or even living wages just because they are clones! How else are they supposed to survive?” Senator Amidala goes on.

“And what of these… Mandalorian clones? More like thugs if you ask me!” Another Senator adds.

“Thugs!” Duchess Satine says coming into view. “How dare you? Mandalor gave as many clones as possible a place of refuge after the war. We did what we could to help these poor men make a life for themselves. More than the Republic has ever done!”

This starts an uproar of the Senators. Hevy reaches over and changes the channel. One of Wolffe’s fights plays but the silence between the brothers is deafening.

“If that Mandalorian doesn’t help us…, what are we going to do?” Droidbait asks at last. Fives rest his head against Echo’s shoulder feeling his stomach twist in knots.

“We always have a home with 99.” Hevy sighs quietly. It was true. No matter how bad things got here they always had 99 waiting for them with open arms. They try to lighten the mood after that. Cutup and Hevy start sparing together mimicking some of Wolffe’s movements. Droidbait goes back to try and get their stove working again. Fives and Echo crawl on Fives bed and pulls out Echo’s datapad. They surf the internet looking for funny videos. While swiping through a popular video app Fives sits up alarmed. Echo perches himself up on his elbow.

“What’s up?” Echo asks. Fives stares at the video.

“It’s her.” He says softly. Echo snatches the datapad.

“Who?”

“Ahsoka! The girl I told you about that I met outside of the 501st bar.” Fives says wiggling next to his brother to try and see it better.

“Scaring Rex part one!” she says with her camera pointed at her. A series of videos plays of her stepping out scaring Rex. They couldn’t believe someone so serious could be scared so easily. Some of them was just of her walking calmly out of a corner when he wasn’t expecting it. When the video ends another one pops up.

“Scaring Rex part two!” She says but this time Hardcase is in the video. Now it shows several clones popping out to scar Rex. Hevy, Droidbait, and Cutup have noticed their intrigue and all huddle around this one datapad. When they move on from that video they find more. They find one centered around Kix. He does a lot of yoga and health videos. Jesse and Hardcase apparently fix up bikes for a living and have a channel focused on their shop. They come across one video of Jesse running from a tip-yip with Hardcase and Ahsoka watching from the top of the hill with what they assumed was Kix filming.

“Help!” Jesse screams while running.

“Oh, bro I got you!” Hardcase yells before playing chasing music on his datapad before he and Ahsoka start dancing and banging their heads as Jesse continues to run away. They scroll some more before they stumble onto Wolffe’s channel. Most of his is of him working out or promoting his gym until they scroll across one where he seems to be at a club.

“Alright,” He says with another clone leaning against him. “We’re gonna play a game called guess who’s married?”

He flips the camera over and starts showing different clones.

“Monk!” He yells before a clone sees the camera and starts dancing. He turns the camera again.

“Bly?” A different clone throws up some hand signs before it turns again.

“Ahso… nah we know you aint married.” He says when the camera turns to Ahsoka. She stops mid drink before throwing something at Wolffe.

“The fuck does that mean?” she yells. The camera shuffles slightly before moving on.

“Cody!” He yells his name louder. Fives arches his brow. Could this be the same Cody? This Cody doesn’t wear any Mandalorian armor, but he is dressed slightly nicer than the others. He has a cigarette to his lips and grins when he sees the camera.

“And finally… Rex and Anakin?” He yells before they all burst out laughing when the camera pans over to Rex passed out while leaning on another man who is passed out. The camera gets shaky before the video stops. Fives sits up rewinding back to the image of Rex and the man Anakin.

“I know this guy.” He says pointing to the image of Rex and Anakin.

“Rex?” Echo asks. Fives shakes his head.

“No, this guy helped me find my way home the first night on Coruscant. I never got his name…” He trails off before standing. “Ahsoka mentioned that name before too. Anakin. I think this guy is in charge of the 501st with Rex.”

Hevy takes the datapad to look at his face.

“So, we know what he looks like but that doesn’t change much.” Hevy shrugs. Fives crosses his arms.

“Why does Wolffe hangout with the leaders of the 501st and on top of that I ran into a Mandalorian clone named Cody. And Ahsoka was there so she’s also a part of this…” Fives rubs the back of his neck.

“Maybe they all know each other. It probably doesn’t mean anything.” Droidbait says.

“I know what it means,” Cutup says with a grin. “It means if we get into the 501st then we’ll probably get to meet Wolffe!”

He and Hevy start sparing again. Fives rolls his eyes before sitting next to Echo and Droidbait.

“Well, I’ve had enough for one day.” Droidbait sighs. He pushes himself off Fives bunk so he can get into his. Echo climbs up top so Fives can lay flat on his bed. Hevy and Cutup eventually give in and get to bed too. It doesn’t take long for everyone to fall into a deep sleep, but Fives can’t help but stare at Echo’s bunk above him. Was it really just a coincidence that he ran into Anakin and a Mandalorian clone named Cody? Just for both of them to be associated with the 501st in some way? He would think long into the night before he finally succumbs to exhaustion.

They wake to a loud CLUNK against their door. Fives is the first out of bed followed by Cutup falling out of his hammock.

“Well, if our downstairs neighbors weren’t up before… they are now.” He groans from the floor. Fives cautiously walks to the front door before opening it. He’s surprised to see a bag sitting on the floor with a note taped to the top. He pulls the bag inside and opens the note.

“What’s it say?” Echo asks with his legs hanging from his bunk.

“It says… This is your chance. Go to this address and see if you have what it takes.” Fives reads. Hevy walks over and opens the bag. He freezes before pulling a blaster out. They all exchange a look.

“Let’s think this through.” Droidbait says as they get dressed. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

“No, but this might be our only chance to get into a Mandalorian clan.” Hevy says patting Droidbait’s shoulder. They strap on the holsters, and each take a blaster. When they’re ready they hesitate at the door. None of them knew what was going to happen when they go to this address. For all they knew none of them were going to make it back. But as they stand there in the tiny apartment the reality of just how few choices they had dawned on them. As they exit their apartment building Hevy turns facing his brothers.

“No matter what happens or what waits us we do this together.” He says. They reach out to put their arms around each other.

“Together.”

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Conditioned

 2501 words. A little longer than I had planned but that’s ok I guess. I’d also wanted it to be a bit more “mind control” but it didn’t quite end up right. TW: Capture, choking, drugged, attacks, friendly fire, hospital.

 Adair followed Nyar as the captain pushed the door open, Thane keeping his gun trained on the door as the other two crossed the room to the figure lying on the floor. 

"Caelum, hey buddy it's me." Nyar had knelt to the ground, checking his pilot's pulse with one hand, the other still gripping his gun. Caelum let out a startled cry, wincing and recoiling from Nyar's hand. Adair felt his heart break a little for Caelum as he slug his own gun over his shoulder. The room was evidence enough that Caelum had been tortured and abused horribly during the month he'd been missing. The room was cold, with no padding anywhere in sight, meaning Caelum had likely spent most; if not all of his time here sleeping on the floor. Adair's nose wrinkled a little at the thought. It was also obvious that Caelum had been sick at some point in here, and the medic hoped that he didn't have any open wounds, any of which would absolutely be infected by now. 

          "Nyar, get the blindfold off him." Adair ordered gently, reaching over Caelum and cutting through the ropes that were holding his hands behind his back. 

         Once the blindfold had been removed and his bonds cut, Caelum's hands flew up in front of his face, his body curling up to protect his head. 

          "Caelum, it's ok, it's us. We're here to get you home." Adair said softly, trying to pull Caelum's hands away. "I just need to look you over real quick and then we can go, ok?"

         "No, stop!" Caelum wailed, slapping Adair's hands away, "Leave me alone!"

       Nyar grabbed Caelum's hands tightly, holding them out of Adair's way, "Hey man...hey hey, it's ok, we won't hurt-" he was cut off as Caelum broke free, scrambling into a sitting position and throwing a punch into Nyar's nose before he tried to back away. 

Nyar fell back a little, and Adair quickly grabbed Caelum’s arm. Caelum pried it out of his grip quickly, moving to back-hand Adair as he did so. Years of boxing in an underground ring and honing his reflexes were the only thing that kept Adair from getting hit. He leaned back quickly, Caelum’s fingers only just brushing against his nose. He took Caelum’s wrist again, loosely, as he called for Thane. 

“He’s in shock,” Adair explained quickly, “I just need him to calm down a little.” 

Thane nodded and knelt on the other side of the frightened young man, offering him a smile as well. “Cael, hey just look at me, ok? Just look…” 

Again, Caelum lunged to attack his friends and rescuers, letting out a pained scream as he clawed at Thane. Nyar had recovered by now, and wrapped an arm around Caelum’s chest, pulling him back away from Thane.

“GET OFF OF ME! LET GO! STOP IT, LET ME GO!” Caelum’s voice cracked as he struggled against Nyar’s grip. 

Thane frowned, looking to the door. “He’s making too much noise. They’re going to come investigate.”

“Snow him.” Nyar grunted, fighting to keep Cealum down, “Knock him out, MacClyde.”

Adair shook his head. “I don't think--”

“STOP! PLEASE, STOP! GET OFF ME!” Caelum was crying now, gasping and clawing as he kicked against Nyar. 

“I said knock him out!” Nyar shouted as Caelum threw an elbow into his side.

“I can’t! I don’t know if they’ve drugged him, I don’t want to risk overdosing him!” Adair shouted back as he and Thane fought to keep Caelum from hurting Nyar too much. 

Nyar let out an angry growl, shifting a little. “Sorry, buddy.” He grunted before wrapping his arm around Caelum’s neck, pressing his bicep tight against his throat. 

Adair felt a wave of horror crash over him, mixing with worry and guilt as he watched Caelum’s eyes widen and fill with panic. The mechanic tried desperately to free himself from Nyar’s grip, his fingernails digging into his arm and drawing blood in thin lines as his face went red. Adair met Nyar’s eyes, which were filled with question, and felt his jaw clench. It wasn’t long before Caelum stopped fighting, his hands falling limply to the ground, and his eyes rolling back as his head slumped to the side a little.

“He’s out.” Adair said, his voice flat.

Nyar nodded, his grip relaxing as he grabbed for the blindfold that had been discarded onto the floor. He tied it around Caelum’s mouth in a clumsy gag, then met Adair’s eyes. “We’ve already wasted enough time, we have to move, now. And we cant really do that again when he wakes up. We can argue in the car.”

Adiar’s teeth ground together so hard that the edges of his vision blurred a little as he helped Nyar haul Caelum up to drag him towards the getaway car. 

“Yes, Captain.”

Sometimes, he really did see exactly why Ewan hated Nyar as much as he did.

*.*.*.*

Caelum was warm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt warm. He frowned a little as he shifted, trying to determine where he was. Nothing felt right. His brain was trapped in a fog and he had no memories past…

...Past Nyar trying to kill him.  

His eyes flicked open at the memory, and he blinked rapidly, a hand up to try to diffuse the light as his eyes adjusted. 

"Hey, look who's finally up!" He flinched away from the voice on his left. Thane. Thane had been there too. He'd held him down, kept his hands still while Nyar had wrapped his arm around Caelum's neck. If he was here now….

Caelum acted on instinct, gripped by an animal terror as he leapt out of the hospital bed. He ignored the shouting and the painful sting as the IVs and needles pulled against him, chaining him to the bed. He grabbed the front of Thane's shirt and slammed him against the wall, hard; once, twice, before shifting his grip so that both of his hands were wrapped firmly around the younger man's throat. Tears streamed down his face and he squeezed harder. 

"You're a lie!" He hissed, blinking through the tears, "You're a lie, you're a lie, you're a lie!"

Thane's fingers curled around Caelum's wrist and his mouth opened as he gasped, trying to force breath into his lungs. His face was red; eyes wide and full of terror and confusion. 

"You weren't there to save me." Caelum spat, "You were there to kill me."

The door burst open and Caelum's head spun around quickly to see Avanda burst in the room. He dropped Thane, who fell with a shuddering gasp and a fit of coughing to the floor. 

"Caelum, it's ok." Avanda said slowly stepping farther into the room now, "I'm not here to hurt you."

He almost believed her. 

Almost. 

It would have been much easier to trust her if he couldn't see the rest of them behind her, staring hungrily at him. 

"Do you know who I am?"

Caelum nodded, one fist raised to her, the other hand stretched out to shield himself from Thane, should he decide to get up and attack him again. 

"Good. That's good. Now I need to check on Thane, alright? I'm just going to lead him out of the room."

She waited until he nodded, then slowly helped Thane to his feet and ushered him out to the hallway before turning back to Caelum. 

"You're bleeding.  Can I fix that IV for you?"

"No." His voice was hard and his answer fast. "Stay back."

"Caelum, you're hurt. You need help. Please, let me-"

"I said stay back!"

"Caelum-"

He was on her in a heartbeat. She was pinned right where he'd had Thane trapped against the wall only moments before. 

"I said: stay back."

Avanda seemed calm. Especially for someone who's windpipe was being crushed by somebody a foot taller than them.

She reached a hand up to his arm, blinking hard and trying to form words. Her hand was trying to move his, but more patiently than Thane had been. 

"I'm...s-sorry…" She finally gasped. 

Caelum blinked in confusion as he felt something prick at his neck, and he released her to lift a hand to the needle that some one else had stuck him with while he was distracted. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, stepping forward to catch him as he stumbled forward, “I’m so sorry, Cael.” 

Caelum let out a choked sob as he sank to the floor, staring at Avanda in terror.

“You lied...you lied too...no….”

“I’m sorry.”

Her face was the last thing he could see as the sedative pulled him away into the darkness.

"You lied."

*.*.*.*

"He's progressing well." Adair reported, flipping through Caelum’s file.

"And he's alone?"

"Yes."

"Good." Nyar nodded. “Good, I think he should stay isolated while he recovers.”

“You’re kidding.” Avanda scoffed, her arms crossed.

Nyar shook his head. “Not at all. He’s dangerous. It’s not forever, Av. He just needs some time to heal, that’s all the longer we’ll keep him on his own, I promise.”

“Nyar, that’s-” Avanda closed her eyes and shook her head, “That’s the last thing he needs right now, ok?”

Nyar scowled, shifting to face her better. “Oh yeah? Remind me, what happened when he woke up and saw Thane? Or what about both times he saw you?”

Avanda shook her head. “Nyar, he was still in shock, he’s been gone for a month, and who knows what kind of torture he’s been going through, of course he’d be scared!”

“Scared? That’s not scared, Av. That’s dangerous.” Nyar pointed towards the closed door separating them from the room where Caelum was, chained to his hospital bed.

“I hate to admit it, but I think Nyar may have a point.” Adair said slowly. “I mean look at how he’s been reacting to staff here during his recovery. Aislin can work with him fine, and he doesn’t fight Johnson at all. But he attacked you twice, and me once. I was there during the rescue, and he clearly misinterpreted some of the stuff that happened that night, so he thinks of me as a threat. As for you and Thane, I think it’s safe to say that whatever he went through, it was probably some sort of...conditioning based torture.”

The room fell silent. Avanda didn’t miss any of the quick glances that were tossed her way, or how Adair had paused before voicing his hypothesis. She sighed a little and chewed her lip, a scowl written across her face as she’s thought.

“He’s scared.”

“I know, Av but-”

“No.” She snapped, “No, you don’t know. You’ve never been through what he’s been through. You’ve never been where he is right now, you have no idea what it’s like to be terrified of the people you love for no reason.” She glared at everyone in the room, challenging them a little as she spoke. “So none of you know how scared he is right now. Or how lonely he is, or how desperately he just wants to feel safe.” She turned on her heel, heading for Caelum’s room as she rolled up the sleeves of her flannel. 

She pushed the door open slowly, stepping in and closing it behind her.

“Hello, Caelum.” It broke her heart to see him like this. He was one of her oldest friends, her brother. He was supposed to be cheerful and upbeat, never without a smile and a laugh. Not this traumatised shell with hollow eyes and a tear-stained face. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was rough as sandpaper as he shifted, pulling his knees closer to his chest as the short chains clinking slightly.

“I thought you might be lonely.” Avanda said gently. 

“I want to be alone.” Caelum whispered, “I can’t trust myself.”

Avanda nodded. “I know. But I trust you.” She stepped closer to him, moving towards the chair next to his bed.

Caelum fliched, pulling the chains away. “Don’t-don’t get too close to me.”

Avanda sat down slowly, resting her elbows on her knees. “I’m not afraid of you, Caelum.”

He looked up at her with sad, tormented eyes. “You should be.” He finally whispered.

Avanda smiled a little, sadly. “I’m so sorry, Caelum. I wish we’d found you earlier.” When he said nothing, she spoke again. “Do you mind if I touch you? I don’t think you need these chains.”

“No, please don’t.” He recoiled a little, holding his wrists out of her reach, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ok. If they make you feel better, we can leave them on.” She waited for him to relax again. “Do you remember when I first got back from when He’d kidnapped me? How I couldn’t look you in the eyes or stand close enough for you to reach me?”

He nodded a little. “Yes.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because He’d--conditioned you to expect some sort of pain with me.” Avanda hated how guilty he sounded about it. Like he had been the one to hold the lighter to her skin or to blow the smoke in her eyes. How he blamed himself for details of her past that he didn’t even know everything about. She’d never told any of the crew exactly what had happened. Not the specifics anyway, just the basics.

“I wasn’t very easy to be around those first few weeks, was I? I think I may have even hit you when you tried to hug me.”

Caelum let out a huff of what may have been laughter. “No, you didn’t hit me. You just acted like a cat that didn’t want to get picked up.”

Avanda chuckled a little. “Maybe you’re right. But did you ever once think that I was dangerous? Or that I was going to hurt you? That I’d become another person completely?”

“No.”

“What did you think?”

He licked his lips a little. “That you were scared. And that-that I wanted to help you.”

“That’s exactly how I feel right now. Caelum, I know exactly how you feel. I know how scared you are; how terrified you are of all of us, of yourself, I know. But I also know that you’re not going to hurt us. You’re still the same old giant, friendly, sweet, hungry, goofball that I grew up with. And I know that you would never dream of hurting me, or any of the rest of us. You’re still my friend. And I’m not about to just give up on you.”

Caelum looked up at her again, searching her face for any sign of a lie. “Thank you.”

Avanda smiled at him. “You’re welcome. Do you want me to take those off now?”

Caelum glanced at his wrists. “Are you sure you feel ok with that?”

“Positive. I can always put them back on for you if you start to feel worked up.”

Caelum swallowed hard, then nodded a little. “Ok. Ok, yeah. Let’s give it a try.”

[outlaws-of-anarchy]

Tainted Love (Chapter 2)

Pairings:  Tig Trager x Reader, Herman Kozik x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, gun violence, police

Words: 1800

--

For the longest time, all she could do was stare at Kozik, unsure of what to do, and what to say. She thought he’d remain a ghost of her past, but here he was, alive and well. His blue eyes did that tantalizing swoop over her form, finding that not much had changed about her. She was still insanely gorgeous, still the same woman he had left in the dust, running away from all his obligations and promises. Like he always did.

The strong façade she had worn for the last several months, began faltering. Happy had his arm still coiled around her, and she was sure without his support, she would have fallen. “Thanks for the heads up, Hap.” She grumbled. The Tacoma Killer shrugged before pressing a kiss into her temple and untangling their limbs. Her rock-solid support-system had gone and begun mingling with the other outlaws, leaving her to stand there awkwardly.

She was uncomfortable, and it was noticeable. Kozik had been a big piece of her past, and when he left her, he took a half of her heart. He claimed the relationship life wasn’t for him, and he had said so much hurtful shit to just get her to hate him. Of course, it had worked. But nothing had worked more than his abandonment, for that, she’d always be bitter towards him. The one man she had given her all to, had used her up to his liking, then discarded her without a second thought.  

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

Kozik stood up, hooking his thumbs in the belt hoops of his jeans. He cautiously stepped towards her, desperately wanting to be closer. “Transfer.” Was his one-worded response.

She could only let out a snort, shoulders tense with unease. “That’s just wonderful.” Came a sarcastic retort.

His brows furrowed, and he carefully analyzed her, despite him being the one to end things. It still stung to see that she was upset about seeing him. Somewhere deep down, he hoped she would have been still in love with him, happy to see him. Yet, it was evident, she was not in the slightest bit happy to see him in Charming once more.

And if he was going to be staying here, he needed to patch up the things he had fucked up. Somewhere down the road, he had realized what a monumental mistake he had made by breaking up with her. His transfer to the Charming Charter, was just a scheme to help earn her back.  He needed to weasel his way back into her life, where he planned on staying for good.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

For months, she had wanted some sort of closure with Herman, but now that she was actually going to get it, it petrified her. Yet, that missing piece of her heart was shining brightly within him, and she couldn’t help but give in and nod at his question.

He strode calmly by her before leading the way outside, a place where they could be alone. She was quick to follow, completely blind-sided by the fact that the previous love of her life, was here. He took a seat on top of the picnic table, hands resting on his knees. She couldn’t sit, she needed to stay standing, she needed to remain strong.  

“What did you want to talk about?” She said softly, gaze directed towards the floor sheepishly.

Kozik knew Y/N better than he knew anyone else, probably better than she knew herself. He could see how anxious she was, and how she was avoiding eye contact. It was as if she were afraid of him, but he knew it wasn’t that. She was scared to look at him, because she would break down, and she was too strong to do that. His little warrior.  

“Everything. Uh, fuck. I mean, us. I want to talk about us.” He stated.

That had caught her attention, her attention immediately fixating on him. “Us? There is no us, you made sure of that.” She grimaced.  

He tersely ran a hand through his hair, exhaling abruptly. “I shouldn’t have left you, I fucked it all up. Just because I was scared of being with you, of drawing you into the life. I did some stupid shit, and I just want you to know I’m sorry, and that I haven’t stopped loving you.”  

Her pupils widened, and she could only whimper before biting into her lower lip. These had been the words she had longed to hear for months. The words she needed to keep her moving, to help her forgive him. Because, as much as she loved Tig, she still loved Kozik. They both owned a half of her heart, and she was now torn between the two. “What do you want from me Kozik?” She sighed.

His lanky arm extended, fingers curling around her wrist and drawing her close. Eventually, she was trapped between his legs, a hand slowly pushing the hair back from her face. Warm breath fanned out across her lips, making her stomach tighten. “I want you, I want us.”  

Y/N could feel that piece of her heart that was owned by Kozik, begin pumping wildly. Roaring his name, demanding that she take him back, demanding her to forget about Tig. But she couldn’t, one side of her wanted Kozik, the other yearned for Tig.  

She slowly stepped back, head shaking side to side. “The moment you left me, you took a piece of my heart. A piece, I never got back. And while you carried on with your life, so did I. My heart doesn’t just belong to you anymore, it belongs to the man that helped patch up the damage you created.” She glanced at him.

Her words were a massive blow to his ego, and more importantly, his heart. All he had wanted was her, and yet here she was, in love with another man. Anger began gnawing at his nerve endings, riling him up and sending him teetering along the edge.

“Who is it?” He growled.

And as he did, the mechanical roar of Tig’s chopper came rolling down the lot. Y/N’s gaze flitted towards him and allowed her lips to tilt back into a half-assed smile. “It’s Tig.”  

The announcement of who Y/N’s new lover, had sent Kozik spiraling downwards. All he saw was black, how could one of his own brother’s betray him? Sleep with his girl? Where was the loyalty?  

Both Kozik and Y/N stood there, watching Tig approach, the curly-headed outlaw’s gaze immediately captured by Y/N. “Pussycat.” He greeted with a smile. Then he realized just who was standing beside her and his own temper began to flare.  

He knew the damage he had done to Y/N, and he wasn’t exactly a fan of him. Sure, the two men had a history, but Trager had an unsaid love for the woman. He wasn’t about to watch her get hurt again, not by the blonde douche bag.

“Your fucking my girl?” Kozik asked.

Tig cocked his head before flashing a 1000-watt grin in his friend’s direction. “Oh yeah, someone had to clean up the mess you made.”  

Then all hell broke loose, Kozik lunging forward and slamming his fist into Tig’s nose. Y/N let out a cry, trying to step in between them, but she was forcefully shoved aside by the two. All that was heard were grunts, curses, and the pounding of limbs against each other. Each man got good punches in, but Tig was crazier, he would resort to extreme measures if he had to.

Kozik swung a close-handed fist into Tig’s nose once more, blood pouring effortlessly as he continued to hammer into his face. Nonetheless, Tig was quick to react, throwing his knee into Kozik’s stomach, making his movements halt and double over in pain. He let out an aspirated groan, trying to catch his breath.  

“You stupid shit, you think you can come back and swoop her off her feet? She ain’t yours anymore, she’s mine.” Tig growled.

Then his boot was colliding with Kozik’s face, sending him flying backwards on his ass.

Y/N kept trying to intervene, but it was no use. She couldn’t stop these two, she was too damn small. So, she went inside and began rounding up the rest of the gang, needing an army to pry the two apart. Yet, as she was doing that, the two outside were becoming rowdier.  

Herman eventually got back to his feet, but Tig was unsheathing his gun and aiming at him. But the blonde outlaw was quick on his feet dodging the bullets there were being unloaded from the pistol. “You fucking psycho!” He screamed at Tig.

As he was running away, he unleashed his own parade of bullets. Their aim being terrible in this gun fight, no one sustaining any injuries. The time they had ran out of bullets, Happy, Juice, Chibs, and Bobby were all rushing outside, trying to calm them down.

20 minutes later, and the police had arrived. Kozik was handcuffed and sitting at the bench, while Tig was put in the back of a cruiser. His bloodied face peered out the window, staring at Y/N with a stoic face. She could only frown in his direction, before shaking her head and turning away.

Both men had acted like complete idiots, making a scene out of nothing. All of this could have been avoided if she hadn’t loved either of them. Yet, she did, and now she was faced with a dilemma. Who would she choose?  

“Tell Tig, I’ll bail him out in the morning. I don’t want to deal with this shit tonight.” She said to Bobby, who nodded and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“So that’s it, you’re choosing him?” Kozik barked from the side.

Y/N turned to him, tears brimming over. “No, Kozik. I’m helping him, like he helped me. Both of you need to rot in your cells for a night. You both fucked up.” She sighed.

Eventually, she had disappeared from sight, getting lost in the emptiness of the bed in Tig’s dorm. She lied there, staring at the wall as she decided what to do.

Who to choose.

Chapter 3

[littledemondani]

everything changes | duncan shepherd x fem!reader | part two

warnings: College Fuckboy!Duncan, semi-public smut, drinking, clubbing, reader being an all-around savage bitch, unprotected sex, unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

words: 2.2K

summary: You and your friends go clubbing to celebrate the start of the new semester, but what happens when Duncan ends up going to the same club as you?

a/n: Hey babes! This is the second part of my College Fuckboy!Duncan headcanons. This is also my first time writing smut. Also, big thank you to @wroteclassicaly for helping me with ideas for this. :D I really hope you all enjoy this, and I love y’all <3

part one

Thank you @ms-mead for this lovely moodboard <3 ily!

“Uhh, my name is Y/N actually.” You chuckled, trying desperately to keep your rage anxiety at bay. A million thoughts raced through your head at once that you didn’t even hear a thing Annette was saying to you. She excused herself and left to go do god knows what (you didn’t care, you just wanted to get the fuck out of there).

You got your phone from your clutch and send for an Uber. The last thing you want is to be stuck with Duncan for longer than you need to be. He hasn’t said a word to you. Nor has he so much as looked at you. Adding more fuel to the pent up rage you’re feeling. You decided to go outside and wait, knowing if you stay inside with him that you’re just going to lose your shit in front of everyone.

Once you reach the doorway you look behind you at Duncan one last time. He didn’t follow you, his utter shock keeping him from moving. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as if at any moment it would burst out of him. He knew he had fucked up, severely fucked up. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to follow you out and explain everything. 

He lifted his gaze from the floor to the doorway, locking in on your eyes. The look of betrayal and anguish on your face shattered him more than he’d like to admit. But as quickly as your eyes met, he turned away and walked off to go greet some acquaintances of his mother.

You felt your heart sink but knew what had to be done. This was it for you. No more putting up with Duncan and his bullshit. You opened the door and walked out of Duncan’s life, for good.

-

Summer vacation has come and gone - the beginning was spent crying over Duncan. For two weeks you waited for a call or text from him, heart jumping each time your phone rang. But nothing ever came. 

You can’t say you were surprised, especially not after the way he acted at the party. “Duncan Shepherd doesn’t chase after girls” had been a rumor you heard one day while waiting for class to start. It was true though: he didn’t chase after girls - they chased after him.

‘Not me,’ you thought to yourself. You were done with trying to figure Duncan out, done with crying yourself to sleep, done with wondering what the fuck you did wrong (which was nothing, of course). So you sought out to rid Duncan of your mind, and it worked.

The late summer nights were filled with drinking until you couldn’t feel anymore, getting lost in the embrace of another person, and waking up with a pounding headache that lasted all day. 

Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest way - but it got the job done. You soon forgot all about Duncan Shepherd and his fuckboy ways. Until it was time to head back to D.C. for a new semester. Then the memory of that handsome face asshole hit you like a ton of bricks.

Now here you are, back in D.C., and getting ready to go out to a club with your roommates to celebrate the end of your first week back. Anxiety flooded your veins at the thought of Duncan possibly being there with his frat brothers. But with the help of your roomies, and about 5 shots of tequila, that fear dissipated.

You were wearing a short form-fitting black dress, black Louboutin heels (yes..the ones Duncan got you), and a dainty necklace. After straightening your hair you put on your makeup. You looked over yourself one last time in the mirror, making sure every hair was in place and your makeup was perfect.

-

The club was filled with a bunch of sweaty college students, some drunk, some high, some both. You were on your 4th vodka cranberry, the drink making you feel fuzzy and carefree.

Your roommate invited her boyfriend and his friends, one of them being a guy you had taken some interest in as the night progressed. He was tall, but not too tall, with short brown hair, lean muscle, and pretty green eyes. 

Maybe it was your carefree attitude since leaving Duncan or your inebriated state of mind (let’s go with that one) that had you pulling whatshisname to some semi-secluded area near the restrooms. He was just looking too good and had been whispering dirty things in your ear as you danced with him, causing arousal to pool in your panties.

You pulled him in for a kiss, full of need with your tongues fighting for dominance. He walked you until your back hit the wall, running his hands down over your ass - squeezing - then stopping at the back of your thighs. Your hand snaking down to palm at his semi-hard cock, eliciting a small groan from him. 

“Jump,” he orders, lifting you with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him in for another kiss.

“You’re not afraid of someone seeing us?” he asks while unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock.

“Just shut up and fuck me already.” 

Without hesitation, he pulls your lacy thong to the side and slowly eases himself into your tight, wet cunt. You let out a breathy moan, his girth stretching you deliciously. 

He rocked into you until he bottomed out completely, allowing you a moment to adjust to him. You grabbed the nape of his hair and tugged harshly, “I said, fuck me already.” a hint of venom laced in your voice.

You didn’t want him to be nice to you, you wanted him to use you. To fuck you like you meant nothing to him because he meant nothing to you. He was just a distraction, another person in your fucked up way of coping with the loss of Duncan.

He chuckled, “If that’s what you want-” he snapped his hips into you with brutal force, “then that’s what you’ll get.”

The pace he set was harsh and unrelenting. You loved every second of it, the way the head of his cock hit your most sensitive spot, the way your back was being pushed into the hard tile wall, the way your legs burned from clinging to him like your life depended on it, his bruising grip on your ass.

Your head was thrown back against the wall, hips snapping to meet his harsh thrusts, eyes closed in total bliss. You could feel the pressure building in the pit of your stomach, that familiar warmth spreading throughout your body.

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, finally opening your eyes - when you saw him. Standing by the doorway of the men’s room, and watching you like a hawk, was Duncan Shepherd. You let out a loud, broken whine that came out more like a moan. 

“What the fuck?!” your train of thought actually leaving your mouth. This can’t be happening. You closed your eyes, thinking if you open them he’ll be gone, he’s just a figment of your drunk imagination. 

You open your eyes again, but no, he’s still standing there. Looking every bit the same as the last time you saw him. His hair perfectly styled, wearing his signature black leather jacket, dark jeans, and a black shirt. You let out another broken moan, pussy involuntarily clenching at the sight of him.

“Mmm, you gonna cum for me, doll? Cum all over my cock?” you ignored whatshisname, the only thing mattering to you at this moment was Duncan standing not very far from you, still watching you.

If he’s just going to stand there and watch, then you were definitely going to give him a show. You finally lock eyes with him, seeing the look of hurt (?) deep in his eyes...even better. 

You grab onto the back of whatshisname's hair, using it as leverage to help you bounce harder on his length. You moaned extra loud, wanting Duncan to hear you rather than just see you.

Each buck of your hips, every moan leaving your pretty mouth, was a knife twist in Duncan’s stomach. He couldn’t believe what the fuck was happening. How had he not noticed you before he went into the restroom? And are those the heels he bought you? 

It takes everything inside of him not to walk over to you and punch that guy in the face. But what would that do? Make you hate him even more than you already do? He knew there was nothing he could say or do at this moment, and it fucking killed him. 

It killed him to see you with another guy, much less fucking another guy - having someone else draw out those sexy moans and whimpers he loved hearing. Having another guy feel the way your cunt clenches and flutters when you're about to cum, it was all too much for him. 

Yet he couldn’t look away.

The way Duncan’s eyes bore into yours, like daggers, sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. This entire ordeal was something you found to be... exhilarating. You weren’t one to actively seek revenge - but this sure did feel fucking good, and you were getting off on it.

You weren’t going to last long, your orgasm fastly approaching. You turned your head slightly so your lips were near whatshisname’s ear, eyes never leaving Duncan’s, and whispering, “I’m g-gonna cum. I want you to cum inside me.” It was like your words flipped a switch in him, sending him into a frenzy.

His already bruising grip on your ass became even harder, thrusting up into you with such force you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit, much less walk after. Your moans turned into screams and legs shaking around him as your violent orgasm ripped through you.

A few more thrusts and his cum painted your walls. You stayed connected to each other for a bit, both trying to regulate your breathing. He moved to set you down, making sure you were okay to stand. You adjusted your thong and dress - looking up to find that Duncan had left from where he had been standing.

A tiny pang of disappointment (?) hit you. You had hoped that maybe Duncan would still be there, that you’d be able to rub it in his face even more that you were doing fine without him. Your thoughts were interrupted by whatshisname taking your hand in his and pulling you back towards your friends.

-

Several drinks later you found yourself back on the dancefloor with whatshisname. Your hips swaying to the beat of the song and his hands roaming all over your body. You turned around to have your back against his chest, your ass rolling against him.

And - for the second time that night, you caught sight of Duncan Shepherd. He was sitting in the VIP section of the club (of course) laughing with his frat brothers and some girls. One of them practically sitting in his lap.

Bitch.

Duncan was trying to have a good time. Trying to force the image of you fucking another guy to the back of his mind. Tried to let the girl practically throwing herself at him distract him from the clusterfuck of emotions running through him. Tried to drown his thoughts in alcohol in hopes that they would stop screaming at him. 

“Hey Dunc, isn’t that Y/N?” one of his frat brothers called out, pointing you out on the dancefloor. He turned his gaze to where his friend was looking, seeing you dancing seductively with your date. Without thinking he stood up and marched his way over to you. Ignoring the others telling him to stop and it was a bad idea. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got to you. Wasn’t sure what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. He contemplated turning back but decided against it. He needed you to know how he felt, how he truly felt.

No more hiding.

Once he got to where you were, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you off the dancefloor. With the anger evident on his face you couldn’t help but start laughing. Was he actually serious? After everything, he put you through, and now he’s the one who’s angry? It was hilarious to you - even in your drunken state of mind.

Your laughter only made Duncan angrier. Pushing you up against a wall and trapping you by placing both hands on the side of your head. “You think this is funny, Y/N?” his voice seething. Nostrils flaring from how pissed off he was. 

You couldn’t help but think he was still fucking hot, even when he was mad. You also couldn’t help the arousal it sent through your body. Or the shiver it sent down your spine.

“Yeah, I do actually. Now if you don’t mind-” you move so you could leave, but Duncan pushed you back into the wall. “I’m not done talking to you. I don’t know what you see in that guy. He can’t fuck you like I can, make you cum like I can. He probably didn’t even make you cum at all.” he taunts while playing with a strand of your hair.

If you weren’t pissed off before - you were fucking pissed now. “He did make me cum. I can feel it between my thighs, wanna see?” you say with a smile. Duncan’s face dropped, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Didn’t think so, now get the fuck out of my way, Duncan.” you give him the nastiest glare you can muster up and push him off of you, walking back towards your date and your friends.

And Duncan stood there, head hanging low. Cursing himself for talking to you the way he did, for letting his anger get in the way of what he was really trying to do. But there was nothing he could do about it now. No way for him to come back from that. At least not right at that moment. 

For the last time - Duncan Shepherd lets you walk away from him.

-

Tags: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @fckinsupreme @lovelylangdonx @wroteclassicaly @svjourn @hecohansen31 @ms-mead @your-daddy-langdon @delgrey

[cait-with-luv]

J.JK Soul Ink - Playlist

Previous | Next

¬ Me, Myself & I - G-Eazy ft Bebe Rexha

Oh, it's just me, myself and I Solo ride until I die Cause I, got me for life,yeah Oh I don't need a hand to hold Even when the night is cold I got that fire in my soul

¬ Him & I - G-Eazy ft Halsey

Cross my heart, hope to die To my lover, I'd never lie He said "be true", I swear I'll try In the end, it's him and I He's out his head, I'm out my mind We got that love, the crazy kind I am his and he is mine In the end, it's him and I, him and I

¬  You Don't Own Me - Grace ft G-Eazy

You don't own me I'm not just one of your many toys You don't own me Don't say I can't go with other boys

Don't tell me what to do And don't tell me what to say Please, when I go out with you Don't put me on display

¬Control - Halsey

I sat alone, in bed till the morning I'm crying, "They're coming for me" And I tried to hold these secrets inside me My mind's like a deadly disease

I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones

¬ Gasoline - Halsey

And all the people say You can't wake up, this is not a dream You're part of a machine, you are not a human being With your face all made up, living on a screen Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline

I think there's a flaw in my code These voices won't leave me alone Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold

¬Hold me down - Halsey

My demons are begging me to open up my mouth I need them, mechanically make the words come out They fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce Ignite me, licking up the flames they bring about

¬ Without Me - Halsey

Gave love 'bout a hundred tries Just running from the demons in your mind Then I took yours and made 'em mine I didn't notice 'cause my love was blind

¬ Nightmare - Halsey

I've tasted blood and it is sweet I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet I've trusted lies and trusted men Broke down and put myself back together again Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger I've pinched my skin in between my two fingers And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors

¬ Now or Never - Halsey

Never pick up, never call me You know we're runnin' out of time Never pick up when you want me Now I gotta draw a line Baby I done, done enough talking Need to know that you're mine Baby we done, done enough talking Gotta be right now, right now

¬ I Walk The Line - Halsey

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine I keep my eyes wide open all the time I keep the ends out for the tie that binds Because you're mine, I walk the line

I find it very, very easy to be true I find myself alone when each day is through Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you

¬  Desperado - Rihanna

Gotta get up out of here and You ain't leaving me behind I know you won't, 'cause we share common interests you Need me, there ain't no leaving me behind Never know, no, just want out of here yeah Once I'm gone, ain't no going back

¬Needed Me - Rihanna

I was good on my own, that's the way it was That's the way it was You was good on the low for a faded fuck On some faded love Shit, what the fuck you complaining for? Feeling jaded huh? Used to trip off that shit I was kickin' to you Had some fun on the run though I give it to you

¬I'm Gonna Show You Crazy -  Bebe Rexha

I'm tired of trying to be normal I'm always over-thinking I'm driving myself crazy So what if I'm fucking crazy?

And I don't need your quick fix I don't want your prescriptions Just 'cause you say I'm crazy So what if I'm fucking crazy? Yeah, I'm gonna show you

¬ Bad Bitch - Bebe Rexha ft Ty Dolla $ign

You're sayin' that your tired of all your empty habits You want something that's deeper 'cause you're over the generics You're fuckin' with them basics when you really want the baddest So come on, baby, get it, 'cause to miss it, it would be tragic

¬ Straight Shooter - Skylar Grey

Married into this family and I'm datin' a bunch of outlaws Even the children drawing guns out of little crayon box Playing with scissors, cuttin' straight to the point Don't need to beat around the bush, we takin' shots to the groin

¬ Yonce/Partition - Beyoncé

Driver roll up the partition please I don't need you seeing 'Yonce on her knees Took forty-five minutes to get all dressed up We ain't even gonna make it to this club Now my mascara running, red lipstick smudged

¬ Or Nah - SoMo (Rendition)

I'm a freaky-deeky lover wanna hit you from the back and other ways That you have never experimented under the covers Roll around the bed with me is something you don't just discover If you wanna get with me you gotta keep it on one hundred I'mma make you scream my name

¬ The Hills - The Weeknd

I only love it when you touch me, not feel me When I'm fucked up, that's the real me When I'm fucked up, that's the real me, yeah

¬ Gangsta - Kehlani

I'm fucked up, I'm black and blue I'm built for it, all the abuse I got secrets, that nobody, nobody knows I'm good on, that pussy shit I don't want, what I can get I want someone, with secrets That nobody, nobody, nobody knows

¬ CRZY - Kehlani

Everything I do, I do it with a passion If I gotta be a bitch, I'ma be a bad one I'm AI with the designs, du-ragging Bounce back game good, why we talkin' practice? Yeah, yeah, yeah Pull up score when I want to Best thing next to Heaven They be tryna count me out though I'm just countin', countin' blessings A real woman 'bout her paper

¬ Good Life - Kehlani & G-Eazy

Raise up a cup up for all my day ones Two middle fingers for the haters Life's only getting greater Straight up from nothing we go Higher than the highest skyscraper No Little League, we major The proof is in the paper

¬ Sucker For Pain - Imagine Dragons, X Ambassadors, Lil Wayne, Logic, Wiz Kalifa, Ty Dolla $ign

I torture you Take my hand through the flames I torture you I'm a slave to your games I'm just a sucker for pain I wanna chain you up I wanna tie you down I'm just a sucker for pain

¬ Do Re Mi - blackbear

If I could go back to the day we met I probably would just stay in bed You run your mouth all over town And this one goes out to the sound Of breaking glass on my Range Rover

¬ Zipper - Jason Derulo

I'ma mark my territory Shawty I'm an animal, slowly digging in to you Spread you like a bad story Turn you to a criminal, let me see you cock it back

¬ Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding

Fading in, fading out On the edge of paradise Every inch of your skin is a holy grail I've gotta find Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire Yeah, I'll let you set the pace 'Cause I'm not thinking straight My head spinning around, I can't see clear no more What are you waiting for?

¬ Beating Heart - Ellie Goulding

Wanna hear your beating heart tonight Before the bleeding sun comes alive I want to make the best of what is left hold tight And hear my beating heart one last time.

¬ Pillowtalk - Zayn

I'm seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure Nobody but you, 'body but me 'Body but us, bodies together I love to hold you close, tonight and always I love to wake up next to you

¬ Dusk Til' Dawn - Zayn ft Sia

'Cause I wanna touch you, baby And I wanna feel you, too I wanna see the sunrise and your sins Just me and you Light it up, on the run Let's make love, tonight Make it up, fall in love, try

¬ I Don't Wanna Live Forever - Zayn ft Taylor Swift

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day Give me something, oh, but you say nothing What is happening to me?

¬ Wrong - MAX Ft Lil Uzi Vert

Wanted to take her back to my place Driving 90, let the cops chase Making that "Damn it feels so good" face Cause she don't wanna wait, no, wait 'til we get home

¬ Youngblood - 5SOS

Remember the words you told me, love me 'til the day I die Surrender my everything 'cause you made me believe you're mine Yeah, you used to call me baby, now you calling me by name Takes one to know one, yeah You beat me at my own damn game

¬ Champions - Fall Out Boy ft RM

Have you ever felt how hard it is to be an anybody To be living, to be breathing, not choosing a dead body Remember, the man told me that this life is a party Yeah, all the glory's so short you should put away the garbages Normal ain't normal, ordinary is a luxury

¬ Crossfire - Stephen

He'd trade his guns for love But he's caught in the crossfire And he keeps wakin' up But it's not to the sound of birds The tyranny, the violent streets Deprived of all that we're blessed with And we can't get enough, no

¬ Revolution - Diplo

Can you see it? The worst is over The monsters in my head are scared of love Fallen people listen up! It's never too late to change our luck

¬ Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

White shirt now red, my bloody nose Sleeping, you're on your tippy toes Creeping around like no one knows Think you're so criminal Bruises, on both my knees for you Don't say thank you or please I do what I want when I'm wanting to My soul? So cynical

¬ Bad Moon Rising- Mourning Ritual ft Peter Dreimanis

I see a bad moon rising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightning. I see bad times today.

Don't go around tonight, Well, it's bound to take your life, There's a bad moon on the rise.

¬ Give It To Me- Agust D

(Same Lyrics, just in Hangul and in English)

아직은 성공의 비법은 몰라도 망하는 비법 잘 알 것 같어 딱 너처럼 놀고 나불대는 게 비법 죽어도 그렇겐 안 살 것 같어

I'm still not sure about the secret to success But I think I know the secret to failure The secret is to play the fool just like you And keep blabbing your mouth But I wouldn't live like that even if I had to die

¬ Jopping - SuperM

You think ya big boi, throwing three stacks I'mma a show you how to ball, you a mismatch Opinionated but I'm always spitting straight facts Throwback, I might throw this on an 8 track Believe me, I'm sight to see Exciting go and drop the beat We get it jopping the party, it don't stop The festival is now starting

¬  Tove Lo - Vibes

Skin to skin Seepin' in Flickering, our eyes go wide You giving me studded sight Painting stars In our hearts Yeah, you know I'm down for you I want you to lick my wounds

¬ Bad Things- Machine Gun Kelly ft Camila Cabello

Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like Don't think that I can explain it What can I say, it's complicated Don't matter what you say Don't matter what you do I only wanna do bad things to you So good, that you can't explain it What can I say, it's complicated

¬ Home - Machine Gun Kelly ft Bebe Rexha ft X Ambassadors

I been through so much pain And it's hard to maintain, any smile on my face 'Cause there's madness on my brain So I gotta make it back, but my home ain't on the map Gotta follow what I'm feeling to discover where it's at I need the (memory) In case this fate is forever, just to be sure these last days are better And if I have any (enemies) To give me the strength to look the devil in the face and make it home safe

¬ Way Down We Go (Stripped) - Kaleo

They will run you down, down 'til the dark Yes and they will run you down, down 'til you fall And they will run you down, down 'til you go Yeah, so you can't crawl no more

¬ 7 Rings - Ariana Grande

Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage? Rather be tied up with calls and not strings Write my own checks like I write what I sing

¬ Don't Call Me Angel - Ariana Grande,  Miley Cyrus & Lana Del Ray

See you here with somebody Dude sizin' up my body Don't you know that I bite when the sun set, yeah? So don't you track 'em around me Might work on them, but not me Don't you know that I bite when the sun set?

¬ Into You - Ariana Grande

I'm so into you, I can barely breathe And all I wanna do is to fall in deep But close ain't close enough 'til we cross the line So name a game to play, and I'll roll the dice, hey

¬ Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande

Somethin' 'bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout you Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn't Somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout, somethin' 'bout

¬ Seven Nation Army ( Glitch Mob Remix)

I'm gonna fight 'em all A seven nation army couldn't hold me back They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back

¬  Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez

No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchenPlaces, places, get in your places Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces Everyone thinks that we're perfect Please don't let them look through the curtains

¬ Carousel - Melanie Martinez

Round and round like a horse on a carousel, we go, Will I catch up to love? I could never tell, I know, Chasing after you is like a fairytale, but I, Feel like I'm glued on tight to this carousel

[keeroo92]

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch37 (V x Reader)

Alternate ending epilogue and final chapter of this fic. Sequel is in prgress and will follow the events of the true ending.

Nero

Nero covers you with a blanket, carefully concealing your frozen features in a sign of respect and mourning. He sits across from your body at the red table with a heavy sigh, swallowing harshly to restrain his tears. Nico sits across from him, a mug of coffee in her hand. She’s been almost inconsolable, utterly shattered by the loss of both you and the poet. Lady is in the driver’s seat, Trish beside her as she starts the van and begins the long journey to Fortuna.

How the hell am I gonna tell Kyrie about all this? It’s all so fucked up…

The young warrior grits his teeth, almost snarling in rage at the way events had unfolded. That blow had been meant for him; he should’ve been the one to fall. And what the hell had you meant about balancing the scales?

It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone.

A loud sniffle from Nico draws his attention as she stares forlornly into her mug. Nero reaches out, resting a hand on her wrist and giving her a sympathetic smile. She sniffles again, her eyes rising to meet his.

“Do you… y’know, wanna talk?” he asks her awkwardly.

“I guess… it’s just a lot, y’know? Feels like we lost even though Urizen is gone. Sort of,” she starts solemnly, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, I hear ya. Doesn’t really feel like a win,” he replies thoughtfully. Nico hums her agreement, her eyes drifting to rest on your covered body sadly.

“Dante said the thing that got her was aiming for you, right? What happened, exactly?” the mechanic inquires softly. Nero cringes at the reminder, bracing himself to tell her the whole story.

“After Vergil came back, things got weird. He kept shifting back into V, like he was still in there fighting. But Vergil wouldn’t let him out, kept trying to fight Dante. He was aiming for me when he stabbed her. She… she jumped in the path, did it on purpose. She saved me,” he explains sorrowfully. He bites his lip, the pain helping keep the sadness at bay.

“Did she suffer?”

Nero sighs, unsure how to answer. He rubs the back of his neck in discomfort as he gathers his thoughts.

“Not for long. There was enough time for us to try to save her. It was weird, one second Vergil’s trying to kill Dante and the next he’s trying to save Y/N. He completely lost it when she… when she died. She had time to tell me it was worth it,” he recalls morosely. He would never forget the look on your face as you touched him for the last time, the spark of life going dark in your eyes as he watched, helpless.

 Worth it…

 Am I? Am I really worth her life?

Nico stands, stepping closer to him to wrap him in a firm hug as his face crumples, unable to keep the sorrow at bay any longer.

_____________________________________

By the time the van pulls up to the home he shares with Kyrie, the sun is low in the sky. Long shadows extend from the trees lining the road, skeletal shades reaching for him as he approaches the door. Before he can reach its familiar white paneling, it flies open with a crash as Kyrie runs out to meet him with an ecstatic grin.

He knows the second she registers his blood-soaked clothing; her smile vanishes, her steps faltering in concern as she reaches him.

“Nero! What happened? Whose blood is that?” she prods instantly. He glances back at the van as Trish, Nico and Lady all carry your covered body forward. None of them had any clue what to do with your remains but still knew better than to leave you in the vehicle overnight. Kyrie’s expression goes from concern to dread as she follows his gaze, still unsure what’s going on.

“Kyrie… It’s Y/N’s blood. She died to save me. We lost V and Dante, too,” he begins in a strained tone. Her arms wrap him in a hug, ignoring the patches of slightly damp blood as she comforts him.

 I missed you so much, missed this…

He inhales deeply, reveling in the scent of the woman he loves so dearly. An ocean of gratitude rises within him, not knowing if he would have made it back to her without your sacrifice. Her thoughts seem to mirror his as she speaks.

“Then I owe her a debt that can’t be repaid,” Kyrie murmurs softly. Nero holds her close, her presence soothing his grief to a point where he can bear it. She is an island amidst the chaos, a refuge from the pain as she always has been.

“I’ll call a mortician. I suppose the garage will have to do for now, can you show them where to put her?” Kyrie asks calmly. Nero releases her and nods tightly, not trusting himself to speak as she smiles sadly at him and retreats inside to make the terrible phone call. Nero sets his shoulders, turning to face the three women carrying you to him.

“In the garage, I’ll make a spot for her,” he mumbles, already walking toward the massive rolling door. With a simple keycode, it rolls away to reveal the familiar grey concrete floor and brick walls. He stomps over to the folding table to the right, quickly moving all the tools and various bottles of fluids to leave a space for you to rest. His throat tightens uncomfortably as the three women lug you inside, carefully arranging you on the cold plastic. The four of them stand in silence for a moment, staring at the body beneath the throw blanket in anguish.

The echoing patter of Kyrie’s approaching footsteps breaks the silence as she enters the garage, phone held up to her ear as she approaches him.

“Did she have any family, Nero?” she asks gently. He frowns, looking at the floor as he realizes none of them had bothered to try and contact your mom yet.

“Yeah, her mom is in the next town over from Red Grave. Last name is Newman,” he replies. Kyrie nods and returns inside with the phone to finalize the arrangements, leaving him and the three other women alone once more.

“I’ll see if I can get her number from the phone,” Nico mumbles, heading back to the van outside with slumped shoulders. Lady sighs and looks at Trish.

“We should head back, to wait for Dante,” she reminds the blonde quietly. Trish nods and gives a strained smile to Nero.

“We’re going to keep Devil May Cry going until he gets back. You’ll tell us when there’s a service for her?”

He nods tightly, eyes still locked on your covered body. Trish lies a hand on his arm in sympathy before she turns away to leave, Lady coming over to give him a warm hug. Nero grips her tightly, trying to return her support in kind.

_____________________________________

The morning of the service dawns bright and cold, a chilly wind blowing in from the sea. Robins and sparrows flit happily around the graveyard, a startling contrast to the group of mourners assembled around your casket. It’s a beautiful dark oak, silver handles decorating the sides and white lilies arranged on the lid.

It makes Nico want to vomit.

 How can everything seem so nice and pretty when she’s gone? It ain’t right!

She wants to rip the flowers away and carve deep grooves into the wood, marring the smooth surface with her pain. She wants to scream and cry, to punch someone, anyone.

Instead she takes a seat near the front, holding her offering in silence as the minister drones on. It had been your mother’s decision to have the boring man speak, talking about heaven and hell as if he knew what either of them looked like.

Nico knows better.

She pretends to listen as the preacher rambles for what feels like hours, her thoughts hidden behind a careful mask of blank attention. At long last the man falls silent and the mourners step forward to leave their small tokens for you. Nico waits until everyone else has had their turn before she steps forward, grasping her item tightly as she approaches.

She can hear several quiet murmurs behind her as she unsheathes your sword and holds it high, a few gasps of surprise as she plunges the blade straight into the wood, embedding it there for all time. It feels right, feels like the perfect way to remember you to force those here to admire the sword you had wielded to prevent your home from being overrun by demons.

She returns to her seat as the tears fall at last, memories of you flooding her mind. Beside her, Nero wraps an arm around her shoulders awkwardly, doing his best to support her even as his nose turns red and he sniffles.

The creaking sound of the casket being lowered makes goosebumps erupt on Nico’s arms. She hates that sound; it reminds her painfully of those she’s lost. Now she has you to add to that list. She stares at the too-green grass under her feet as the echoes fade, your casket now at rest at the bottom of the earthen pit. The minister leaves, several of the mourners who hadn’t known you well following soon after.

Then it’s just her, your fellow devil hunters and your mother. The unfamiliar woman glares at the group angrily, clearly still blaming them for your demise.  Kyrie alone approaches the distraught woman, her kind personality giving her the ability to find the right words to ease the woman’s suffering. Nico watches from far as the two women embrace sadly.

She looks away as the sensation of intruding on a private moment overwhelms her, standing and gazing at the plain tombstone that decorates your final resting place.

 May she walk with angels.

 Seriously? That’s it?

Nico snorts, wondering who was the dumbass that chose the words. If it’d been up to her, it would’ve said something about being a badass who never gave up. Nero joins her with a sad smile, his nose still quite red as his gaze follows hers to rest on the granite stone.

“Damn, that’s it? Doesn’t seem like enough,” he murmurs quietly. She chokes out a laugh, leaning against him as he wraps an arm over her shoulders in comfort.

“No words ever are,” she comments sadly.

_____________________________________

Two Years Later

A warm breeze rustles through the trees dotting the area, a few leaves breaking free and fluttering free in the wind. His steps echo on the stone pathway as he approaches the simple granite marking. He sighs heavily, crouching to leave the bouquet of irises in the waiting opening.

 May she walk with angels.

 Pathetically inadequate.

He brushes his white hair out of his eyes distractedly, more focused on your grave as his brother follows a few steps behind him. Dante keeps a respectful distance, for which he’s very grateful. It’s been a long two years; their time in the underworld had helped them to understand each other but it wasn’t until they’d made it back that they had truly become brothers again.

That was two months ago.

Dante had been here a few times since their return, but this was Vergil’s first visit.

He sits on the green grass, crossing his long legs and staring at the carved words marking your resting place. Dante backs away even further, leaving hearing distance to peruse other markings until Vergil is ready to leave. He sighs again, gathering his thoughts.

“I’m sorry its taken me so long, Y/N. I’m sorry for many things, actually,” he begins regretfully. The familiar ache settles over his heart as he addresses you, his longing to see you again forever left unsatiated. It still baffles him how much he cares for you, how much he misses you.

 There will be no one else.

“I want you to know that things are different now. I no longer wish to kill Dante,, though sometimes he makes it difficult. Nero’s coming around, though he’s understandably cautious. There’s much work to be done,” he explains hesitantly. It still makes him uncomfortable to show any amount of weakness, but there’s no one else here.

“I miss you,” he concludes, gritting his teeth as he forces the words out. Silence greets his words, not even the hush of wind responding to him. He stays still for a long time, not speaking a word but content to reflect on the past, on his short time with you while you were alive.

By the time Dante returns, the sun is setting behind him, his shadow being cast over your tombstone and draping you in darkness. Vergil recognizes the sound of his brothers footsteps and stands to meet him.

“I’ll return soon,” he whispers as he turns to leave with his twin.

And he does.

[bytheangell]

it runs in the family

(Read on AO3) (( A/N: I know there’s some debate on how the ‘tapping into one another’s feelings’ works with the parabatai bond, so for the sake of this fic we’re going with: you can totally do it, either consciously or with them just seeping through when they’re strong enough.)) (also TW: coping mechanisms that can definitely be inferred as self-harm)

It isn’t often that Isabelle is the one holding everything together. Jace is the fighter, the first on the field and the last to leave it during every mission. He never shies away from taking a hit to protect her, or Alec, or any of the other Shadowhunters, for that matter. Sure, sometimes he’s a little too brash, but it’s just who he is and she loves him for it. And Alec? Alec is a born leader and her big brother through and through. Even if he wasn’t technically her commanding officer there’s no way he’d let his guard down for even a second if she might be in danger. They both know she’s more than capable in handling herself but that doesn’t stop his older sibling instincts from kicking in the moment she’s in trouble.

It isn’t just in the field, though - they’re there for her for the emotional moments as well. Jace takes her out for comfort food and threatens to beat up any person who ever dares to break her heart, and Alec offers a shoulder to cry on more than once after she finds out about Robert’s affair, or after their mother’s de-runing. Both of them stay by her side (when she allowed them to) during the ugliest moments of her Yin Fen recovery. She has no doubts that they’re both there for her through thick and thin, no matter what.

So when she starts to notice them spiraling - Jace first and Alec close behind - she’s caught off guard. She isn’t used to being the one in the position to help. This might actually be the first time she has enough of her life together to even be able to consider acting as someone else’s support instead of the other way around.

She tries to reach out to them, of course - hoping to start a conversation innocently enough and branch into a more serious discussion. It never works. They deflect, grow defensive, and shut down in true Lightwood fashion. So she falls back for the first few days, hoping they’ll sort themselves out and settle like they always have in the past.

But this is unlike anything they’ve faced before, and they don’t settle. In fact, things only go from bad to worse.

After just a few days she can’t continue to stay silent. She offers help, insists they lean on her. They won’t have it. They won’t talk to her, doubtless trying to protect her, but that doesn’t mean she can’t see the way they both change after the night of the explosion. They’re both irritable and hiding in their work;Jace is out on patrol more hours than not.  Every time she sees Jace his eyes lose a little more light, a little more life. He volunteers for the most dangerous missions and his actions become reckless. Alec hides it better, at least, but the unrest and guilt he feels through their parabatai bond weighs on him... and that’s on top of the guilt he feels over Magnus’ loss of magic. He tries to be strong for Jace’s sake, for Magnus’, and for her own, but Isabelle can see him cracking at the edges and wonders how long it’ll be until he breaks.

It’s less than a week before Jace snaps. She sees the broken mirror in the bathroom, shards of glass littering the floor, and follows the trail the drops of blood leading out of the room make though she already knows where they’ll end. Unsurprisingly she finds herself standing outside Jace’s room, and opens the door without knocking. It looks like a hurricane tore through it. Anything on a shelf or a tabletop is now on the floor. Chairs sit askew, some knocked over entirely, and there’s a mark on the wall with the same tell-tale drying crimson that brings her here.

“Oh, Jace.” She says softly, the name escaping her lips in a painful sigh. She shuts the door again and retreats, asking him later about his bandaged hand.

“Hit the punching bag a little too hard,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Jace-” she starts to argue. He can’t keep lying to her like this, he needs to let her in.

“Drop it.”

There’s a dangerous edge to his voice, one she isn’t sure she’s ever heard directed at her before.

It silences her immediately and she turns away before she says something she’ll regret.

She’s walking by the training room when the sound of somebody actually hitting the punching bag a little too hard draws her attention. Spotting Alec in the room isn’t surprising; seeing him in jeans instead of workout clothes (the button-down shirt he was wearing earlier tossed to the side), however,  is definitely unusual. He obviously didn’t plan on ending up here. The next thing that catches her off-guard is the way he’s beating the bag - because he isn’t just training, he’s attacking it, sending it swinging every which way with a force more akin to rage than his usual frustration. His breathing is heavy and Isabelle can’t quite tell if the moisture on his face is only sweat or tears, too.

“Alec?” She tries hesitantly from the doorway. He doesn’t even register her presence, letting out a noise that’s as much a scream as it is a cry while his hits intensify; even from a distance Isabelle can see his knuckles split.  “Alec! ALEC!” Before she knows what she’s doing she’s crossing the room, grabbing her brother by the shoulder to pull him away from the punching bag.

Alec, startled by the sudden touch in the heat of the moment he’s lost in, spins toward her with the swing of a fist she narrowly dodges, the arm falling to his side when he sees her and stares with confusion.

“Alec what the hell ,” Izzy gasps, eyes wide.

“You should know better than to sneak up on someone like that,” he huffs, like this is her fault somehow.

“I was yelling your name.” She points out, eyes dropping to his hands. “Let me see that,” she demands, pulling out her stele.

“It’s fine. I deal with it later.”

“Alec, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine, just drop it.” He snaps, eyes narrowing, and Izzy’s struck with a moment of dejavu.

“You too? You sound like Jace.” No sooner do the words leave her mouth does Isabelle pause. “Alec, you’re not--”

“It’s fine,” he repeats for a third time, but he isn’t talking about his hand this time. “I’m just keeping tabs on him. It isn’t like I can keep half of it out anyway.”

She knows what he’s doing now - why he’s down here with a fury she isn’t used to seeing in this brother. “Tapping into the bond while he’s like this isn’t good for you, Alec.” She knows he means well. He wants to make sure Jace is alright, and if he isn’t, Alec wants to know exactly how not alright he is. But that doesn’t mean he can shoulder the pain they’re both feeling at the same time, especially not if this reaction is any proof.

“I’ve got it under control, Izzy.” He sighs. “I wish I could say the same for Jace. I’m worried about him. I know he’s done stupid things before, but I’m really worried this time.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, looking at him with dark eyes full of concern. “I know the feeling.”

---

When Jace volunteers himself for a high-risk mission Izzy isn’t surprised to find Alec agreeing to go right behind him. Jace glares, vaguely aware he’s being babysat, but Alec pretends not to notice when he makes some off-handed comment about taking the reins on anything involving the escaped convicts. Of course Izzy knows better, and with just a moment’s pause for consideration she’s rounding out the patrol by throwing her own name onto the roster.

“What?” She asks with an innocent shrug. “I’ve been spending too much time in the Weapons room. Don’t want to get rusty, do I?”

She doesn’t know what to expect with the three of them out on the field together but no amount of imagining could prepare her for what goes down. Jace, running out ahead without a plan, nearly getting himself killed in his recklessness. Alec thinking quick to step in and save the situation but not quick enough to stop Jace from getting hurt. She made the mistake of thinking they could hold it together when it mattered, when lives were at stake. She was wrong.

And so Isabelle, despite her best intentions, now stands helpless at a distance before she’s able to step in to take control and finish the job. She listens as Jace yells at her and walks away, not even trying to hear reason.

She wants to help him, but instead she feels herself losing him more and more with every step away from her he takes... and she can’t think of a single thing she can do to stop it.

---

Isabelle has a little extra work to do for her end of the report after Jace’s actions in the field, but once it’s done she’s eager to hand it off to Alec and be done for the day. She stops by Alec’s office, only giving one short knock before making her way inside like she normally does.

“Hey Alec, I finished up the forensi--” she starts, already holding out the paperwork she came to drop off in her hands when she notices the way Alec brings both hands immediately up to his face and turns away from her.

“Hey Iz,” he manages, and though she can hear him fighting to keep his tone even there’s a crack he doesn’t manage to control.

“Alec what’s wrong?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that the report? Here, I’ll take it,” he swings around in his chair, eyes red and face lightly flushed, but to his credit he manages an almost convincing neutral expression.

“Alec,” she repeats with pleading eyes, holding the papers away from him now so he can’t reach them. The report can wait.  

“It’s just… you saw him out there, Iz. It’s so overwhelming all the time, it just never stops. The guilt, the anger, the frustration… he can’t keep going on like this.”

“And neither can you.” She doesn’t just mean the parabatai bond either, and the pointed look she gives him makes that very clear. “Clary isn’t your fault as much as it isn’t his. Magnus either. You can’t keep carrying the weight for both of you.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Alec mutters.

“No, it isn’t. None of this is easy for me. I’m watching the two of you lose control more and more each day and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I might not be bound to you but I’m still your sister and I can’t keep watching my brothers self-destruct at arm’s length, it isn’t fair!”

Alec falls very quiet after her outburst and for a moment or two Izzy is positive she said the wrong thing and that he’s about to kick her out and never speak to her again. Maybe it’s selfish of her, but she refuses to allow herself to fall into the same pit as Alec and Jace - she wants to help them, but she won’t allow them to drag her down into silent denial with them in the process.

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” She allows the briefest flicker of a smile before her phone is in her hand, dialing a number and bringing it up to her ear. “Alec’s office, now.” She hangs up before the person on the other end can argue and a few minutes later Jace is standing in the doorway, hesitating at the sight of them.

“Emergency Lightwood Sibling meeting. Shut the door.”

They might not want to let her help them but she’s beyond giving them the option. She’s been going about this all wrong - they didn’t need her to stand by and be supportive, to try and talk and offer condolences and reassurances. They didn’t need her to be there waiting for whenever they decide to come around and talk to her. What they need - and what she fully intends to give them - is a reality check.

“I know I’m your kid sister, but I’m not some fragile little girl. I’m your equal. Both of you . And you need to start talking to me and letting me help before this gets out of control and someone dies out there. Again . What happened with Lilith is neither of your faults, but if this keeps up and something else happens, this time it will be on you.”

Isabelle knows the words are harsh but she also knows that Alec takes his ability to lead very seriously, as does Jace. Even though she almost can’t bring herself to say them, once the words are out and she sees the way Jace diverts his gaze towards the floor and Alec shifts away from her in his chair it’s clear that they have the desired effect.

“And if you aren't going to talk to me, at least talk to someone, because neither of you can keep going on like this. Look at you.”

She looks pointedly between Jace and Alec, her gaze dropping down to Alec’s newly re-bandaged hands. Jace’s eyes narrow at the telltale site of it knowing, as it always is with Alec, that anything he doesn’t immediately fix with an iratze is intentional. “I thought you stopped that,” Jace says quietly.

Alec glances down at the scarring cuts still healing on Jace's own hands, left over from the other day’s outburst. “I didn't think you would start.”

It dawns on Jace what Alec is talking about and he looks close to tears, mirroring the state Isabelle found Alec in minutes before.

“I'm sorry. You shouldn't have… I shouldn't have let it get bad enough for you to feel, I didn't realize…” As if for the first time, Jace seems to be thinking of how his actions are affecting more than just him and Izzy knows she’s finally getting through. This is the push they needed, to pull themselves together not for their own sakes, but for each other’s.

“See? This is what happens when we push each other away. We’re supposed to be a team. No, screw that, we’re a family . Neither of you have to deal with all of this alone. Let. Me. Help. You.”  

Alec and Jace mumble something and Izzy crosses her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised. “What was that?” “Okay.” “Fine.”

Come the slightly louder replies, and she allows herself the briefest flicker of a smile at her victory. It doesn’t last long, knowing the circumstances that made it necessary.

“I’m going to call mom and see if she wants to have us all over for dinner tonight like she’s been talking about all week. No cases. No patrols. No paperwork. One night to unwind and recharge. Deal?”

She can’t help but sound a little too eager as she makes the suggestion because it’s as much for her as it is for them. She needs this. She misses her brothers, her mother, her family . Not a day has gone by since the explosion that she didn’t consider how easily she could’ve lost any one of them and it’s a thought that keeps her up at night. Who knows how many more chances they’ll have to be together like this? She always knew it was part of the job… they all did. But it’s never felt as real as it does now.

If they can sense the desperation in her tone they’re kind enough not to mention it.

“That sounds really nice, actually.” Jace is the first to agree. And then, after a pause, adds, “Thanks, Izzy.”

“It does, she’ll really like that.” Alec agrees. “Thanks.”

Neither of them have to say that it isn’t the idea of dinner they’re taking her for.

“You’re welcome.”

It isn’t going to be easy, and it isn’t going to be quick, but they’re going to make it through this. Maybe a little worse for wear, but when aren’t they these days? So long as they stick together they can handle whatever the world - Shadow or otherwise - throws at them.

Starting tomorrow.  

[msmoonlighter]

All About Piper King! (It’s really long, sorry)

Full Name: Piper  Eurydice King

Ethnicity/Nationality: Mexican-Italian American

Age: 22 Family: Pierce Alastor King ( older half brother), Natalia Romero-Blackwell (Adoptive mother, Banshee ), Lysander Blackwell (Adoptive father, Vampire), Heather Brooks (Adoptive sister, not related to the Blackwells, Human turned werewolf, her family abandoned her after she was turned, they were hunters), Lorena King (Biological mother, Gorgon, an asshole),  Santiago Adder (Biological father, never met his kid, not an asshole, Gorgon, would actually make an okay dad)

Species: Gorgon, descendant of Stheno, one of the original three Gorgon Sisters Gender: Female Height/ Body type: She’s 5’3 and got a kinda slim thick thing going on. She’s a little curvy around the hips and thighs and chest, but not extremely so. Appearance: Dark/medium green snakes, pale green skin, red or gold eyes I can’t decide, red lips, I can’t decide whether I want her fangs to always be visible or if I want them to be like real snake fangs and have them only pop up when she opens her mouth. Guess I’ll alternate?

Job: Works at a bunch of places. She’s an art student, she needs that coin. She works as a barista at a coffee shop during the colder months, during the warmer months occasionally she works at a fast food joint where she gets to roller skate people’s food to their car and she LOVES rollerskating. She also babysits year round when she can because 1) she loves kids. They amuse her, and she has this weird motherly streak, and 2) A lot of monster kids love her snakes. A few are terrified of them, but she has a pretty good chance of getting the kids being enamored with them. And if she needs to get the kids to quit acting up, she pulls out the “you’re making the snakes sad” card. Her snakes play along and act all disappointed until the kid feels bad and complies. Dirty trick, but it works. If the kid is a little shit she has two options. Either she busts out the “I’ll turn you to stone, I won’t hesitate.” card, or  “I’m calling your mom and she’s not going to be happy.” Usually that doesn’t have to happen though because kids either adore her, or are scared shitless by her. Hobbies: Art, sculpting, painting, sketching, graphic design, the works. Also music. She’s a drummer for her brother’s band Sweet Poison Fangs or SPF and sometimes even sings for them. She also loves hiking, exploring nature, taking care of her snakes, reading books and comics, lowkey love of soccer (or futbol), and generally being creative or getting to be outdoors. LOVE SWIMMING. SO MUCH. LIKE WOW. WATER? GOOD SHIT. GIVE HER THAT H2O. She has a high key love of roller skating because when she moved in with her adoptive parents the first thing they did for family bonding time is go rollerskating and it became a tradition to go out roller skating on her birthday each year.

Personality:

- Main  traits: Opinionated, independant, strong willed, kind hearted, laid back usually but she can have a temper, creative, casually (but very) affectionate, and loyal as FUCK, fun, outgoing, easily flustered by flirtatious behavior towards her (when welcomed), hardworking, compassionate

-Don’t mess with people she cares about she will come AFTER you - Cares about the environment and shows it. You littered? You pick it up or you become a new museum piece. She wears lots of “Save the (insert endangered species, or ecosystem here)” shirts and picks up trash whenever she sees it. Like doesn’t matter where she is, if there’s litter, she’s grabbing it and carrying it to the nearest trash can. Consequently, she uses a lot of trash in her art and repurposes a lot of stuff.

- May seem easygoing and fun but please don’t try to fight her, chances are you will get fucked up. She’s been taking MMA classes since she was twelve and lemme tell you, there is nothing hotter than seeing Piper punch, disarm, and take down, a mugger in four seconds flat.

-  I’m not gonna lie she’s a little bit flirty but she usually does it jokingly and makes that clear. The second you turn it around and flirt with her she becomes a mESS. An uncharacteristically flustered MESS.

- A bit of a perfectionist when it comes to her art and music, when she gets worried about school work she basically shuts down and loses the ability to give a shit to avoid stress. It’s a sucky coping mechanism and often her brother has to snap her out of it. Soon as he does though she’s IN IT TO WIN IT and won’t be stopped until she’s blown all her schoolwork out of the water. (Unless it’s done the day before then she’ll get like a C tops.)

-  She’s so loving and welcoming towards other people, like my god if see sees you crying she’s automatically there to ask if you’re okay and comfort you no matter if she knows you or not. But she’s not all kind. If you’re an asshole she’ll take one look at you, push her guilt away and go “Suffer.” But usually that’s reserved for people who have wronged others around her.

- She actually met one of her good friends, a half shadow demon, half vampire named Naomi at a cafe. She took one look at the tiny, shy girl in the corner, sipping her coffee and looking sad, and just casually walked over, slipped into the seat across from her, and said, “Hi. I’m Piper. Could you give me your opinion on a few drawings of mine?” And after they got to talking admitted that she came over because Naomi looked sad. She uses her quick wit and extrovertedness to make people smile and earns a lot of friends because of it.

- She’s kind of a bit self deprecating and has low self esteem, but she’s super supportive and uplifting towards everyone except herself.

- Straddling the line between true and chaotic neutral

Backstory: Her mother was, in short, fucked up. She had Pierce at eighteen, as a senior in high school, and then three years later had Piper, and they were both from different fathers. She lived in an apartment complex, running on money from her parents, and was kind of a shitty mom. Lorena fed them and stuff, but like, she wasn’t very loving or motherly. She was more like a vodka aunt who they just happened to live with. And she was an asshole.

She didn’t have a job, except for when she went and worked at McDonalds and that didn’t last more than a year. And it wasn’t like it was because she couldn’t get a job, it was just because she didn’t care. Whenever she got angry and frustrated she’d scream and curse and hit them, and let her snakes bite them.

Gorgons are immune to snake bites so it didn’t do anything but it still scared them and hurt because Lorena had rattlesnakes for hair. She went partying constantly, leaving Pierce and Piper to fend for themselves until late at night. The landlady cooked for them sometimes, and she was the only real source of motherly care they got.

When Pierce was thirteen and Piper was ten, Pierce came out as gay and Lorena, who had been threatening to get rid of them for years, finally snapped. She shouted about how she’d put a roof over his head, given him food, and he’d repaid her by being ‘disgusting’ and ‘unnatural’. Piper stepped in and defended her brother, trembling as she told her mother that Pierce did nothing wrong and that if she thought that they needed to repay her terrible mothering, neglect, and abuse then she was more demented and delusional than Piper had thought. She told her that she was a terrible person, a terrible mother, and that Pierce was fine the way he was. Lorena hit  Piper so hard Piper stumbled back into the wall and told them both to leave and never come back. Pierce and Piper threw their stuff into two suitcases and two backpacks and left. They wandered around for a while, until they came across Middleverse. They planned to keep moving, but then they got adopted. They were actually trying to steal from a hotdog stand when they met their adoptive father. Pierce was distracting the vendor by stealing his wallet and running, leading the vendor to chase him. Meanwhile Piper swooped in and stealthily swiped some dogs with help from her snakes. Then, all of the sudden, someone clamped a hand down on her shoulder. First reaction? Punch them. Piper wasn’t used to physical contact of any kind except harmful, she’d been living on the streets, and her mother often grabbed her shoulder or arm when angry, so she just whirled around and sucker punched the guy in the face. The man was tall, blonde haired, and very much in pain. He held his nose, eyes watering for a second, before giving her an awkward grin and saying, “Okay, that was my fault. Sorry about that.” Piper grimaced at the blood slipping through his fingers, but she didn’t back down. Her snakes rose up, hissing, and she eyed him warily. “What do you want?” “Look,” The man said, still blinking back tears. Piper handed him a napkin from the stand. He held it to his nose “Thanks. Now, kid, why do you feel you have to steal these hotdogs? Can’t you just buy some? Don’t you have parents who can buy you some? I just don’t want you to get in trouble. I saw you and the boy do the whole diversion thing.” “I don’t have money.” Piper replied automatically. “Or parents.” “You’re orphaned.” The man said, solemnly. “No.” Piper said, taking a bite of her loot. “My mother kicked us out.” The man hesitated for a long second, then, one hand still covering his nose with the napkin, pulled out his wallet. “I’ll buy you some food. How many hotdogs you want?” Piper was obviously wary, wondering if there was a catch. The man assured her there was none, so she let him slap some money on the hotdog stand and let him walk with her to the spot she and Pierce said they’d meet. The man told her his name was Lysander Blackwell, he was a vampire, he worked as a college professor, and he was married to his “gorgeous, talented, and amazing” wife Natalia, a banshee. She was just telling him about her snakes, who up until this point were her closest friends, when Pierce ran up with some cash and some hotdogs, grinning. When he saw Lysander, however, his smile fell. Piper assured him that Lysander was cool, and he trusted Piper’s instincts so he begrudgingly allowed Lysander to take them on a walk through Middleverse. At the end of the day, after buying them ice cream, and taking them to the art museum, where he had been heading to meet his wife, Piper and Pierce felt a little more comfortable with Lysander.

He was a really nice guy, who liked to make bad puns, and dad jokes, but who could be genuinely funny, and was really intelligent. Natalia, who was the prettiest, most genuinely loving woman Piper had ever met, told her that if she wanted a place to stay, she could stay with them. The King siblings were tired and hungry, and these folks had fed them and taken them to a museum, so they reluctantly agreed. Time passed a little by little Piper and Pierce became more and more comfortable with the Blackwells, until one day, they just decided to stay. Lysander and Natalia adopted them, and were great, loving, understanding parents. The first moment Piper really felt like she had a family was when Natalia and Lysander took them to the roller rink to skate. Piper had fallen and gotten tripped over. She started to get up, and hissed as her scraped palms and knees touched the floor. Natalia rushed over and helped her up and asked her if she was okay and Piper was like ???? affection and caring????? This is so nice ???? And she looked over at Pierce and Lysander laughing as they ate pizza and just kind of had a moment. She realized that she finally had parents who loved her and cared for her. She didn’t answer, she just wrapped her arms around Natalia and hugged her real tight. Natalia, though surprised, hugged her back and didn’t question it. As Piper got older, she became more and more aware of the fact that she was not straight. When she was fifteen she finally worked out that she was pan. She was surprised that she wasn’t afraid to tell her parents. They had been supportive of Pierce and had openly voiced their approval every time he brought home a nice guy (there were occasions when Pierce brought home a guy that they told him afterwards was no good) so Piper felt minimal fear to tell them. But when she finally walked into Natalia’s office where Lysander and Natalia were working on a paper about the decline of the sumatran tiger population, she suddenly became very nervous, and her snakes gave that away. Often her snakes reacted to her emotions, and when she becomes nervous they do too because they can sense her fear. Lysander got up to hug her and welcome her home from school, and one of her more skittish snakes, Bowie, struck at him. Lysander, who recognized this as a sign of fear, of course asked if Piper was okay. Natalia offered to get what they called The Comfy Blanket. A soft blanket they threw into the dryer and warmed up to give to Piper when she needed comfort. Being part reptilian, though warm blooded, she felt more content when warm, and sometimes when she was anxious, they’d get out The Comfy Blanket. After a long moment, and lots of blabbering and stalling, Piper finally got it across that she was pansexual. Natalia and Lysander assured her that there was nothing wrong with that and that she was still their daughter and that they loved her. Piper broke down crying she was so happy. Her snakes flocked to her cheeks and wrapped around her shoulders, giving her semblances of hugs and resting their heads against her cheeks in attempts to calm her, and Natalia and Lysander hugged her, telling her over and over that they loved her and that they were happy she told them and trusted them.

Piper discovered her love of art a few months after, when they adopted Heather, the newly turned werewolf girl who made beautiful drawings, much more advanced than Piper’s. Piper told Heather she wished she could draw like her. Heather advised Piper to take some art classes, and when Piper did, she realized two things. 1) Art was hella hard, and 2) she adored it. From then on she threw herself head first into sculpting, painting, graphic design, any form of visual art she could. She has a very tight bond with Pierce, and a bond almost as tight with Heather. She’s supportive of both, and fiercely loyal. She’s very protective of Heather, mostly because when they adopted her she seemed so in need of love and reassurance and comfort. She was a newly turned werewolf who was abandoned by the only family she had on the side of the road, left for dead after being beaten cut with a silver knife. Of COURSE Piper was going to be protective of her. She and Lysander and Pierce formed a sort of Heather Protection Squad, making sure to threaten, beat up, or at least intimidate anyone who even looked at Heather wrong. They will protect and attack for their little gorl. To quote Lysander when a vampire had asked why Lysander was allowing a werewolf to walk with him in the park, “That is my daughter, and you will treat her with respect, or I will stick my foot so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste your racism. And let me tell you, buddy, it tastes bad.” And to quote Piper when one of Heather’s schoolmates called her a dog. “Have you ever felt the feeling of all your limbs stiffening and your body dying as you turn to stone? Would you like to? Because you’re going to if you don’t shut the fuck up, you disgusting piece of racist filth. And who are you to call someone else a dog? I swear to god, you look like a naked mole rat and a deformed chihuahua had a baby. Back off.” And to quote Pierce when a kid in Heather’s class told Heather to fetch and threw a branch at her. “Hold my guitar, Piper, I’m gonna go fuck up a 14 year old. HEY BITCH! YEAH YOU FUCK-TARD. YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH MY SISTER? YOU WANT THAT STICK SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT? BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO SHOVE THAT STICK DOWN YOUR THROAT AND RIGHT THROUGH YOUR INTESTINES.” Basically, they all love Heather and aren’t afraid to throw down for her honor. When Piper was eighteen Pierce got this idea that they should form a band. And they did. And they’re really good. They’re a multi-genre (mostly Alternative, punk and rock) band called Sweet Poison Fangs or The Fangs or simply SPF. Mostly because everyone in the band has fangs, but also because it’s something Natalia called the King kids whenever they got a sassy mouth. “Alright then, Sweet Poison Fangs, if you don’t want to fold your clothes, I guess you don’t want to go to the movies tonight either.” Piper’s best friend, other than Pierce, is a redhead witch named Aspen, who is also an artist, and writing a comic book with her. Aspen loves writing and so she’s doing most of the storyline for the comic. Aspen’s more into theatre than she is, and participates in at least one major local production a year. She’s really fun and has the same sense of humor Piper does, meaning they get along fantastic. She’s a more energetic though, and often her ADHD antics get Piper out of the house, so Mr and Mrs Blackwell love her. She works as a barista with Piper, and sells her art to make money. Piper’s second best friend is Wyatt McCoy, an instrumentally talented, and socially awkward werewolf she met in sophomore year of highschool. He’s kind of a huge nerd, and wants to study to become a wildlife biologist and a chemist, but his mad ADD interfere with school and he’s putting off college. Among her other friends are Alessandro Nightshade, the first guy that Pierce dated, Jade Darksea, a Nixie, and Naomi Nacht, a shadow demon-vampire. Alec is an incubus and therefore hella hot. He’s kinda really flirty, but once he becomes close to you, the flirting dies down to just occasional jokes, and he becomes like an older brother. As in he steals your food and embarrasses you in front of your crush. He was pretty great as first boyfriends go and he and Pierce are now best friends instead of having a messy breakup and never talking again. He plays bass guitar in the band. Jade is quiet and a bit moody, with long black hair that’s constantly in her face and wet and a penchant for asking to eat people when she’s annoyed with them. Don’t go swimming with her. Just don’t. It won’t end well. She’s usually backup vocals in the band. Naomi is a sweet and shy girl, easily flustered and very good with animals. She has a lovely singing voice, but refuses to sing in public, but also really wanted to be in the band, so she plays whatever small instrument they need in the band. She takes over playing percussion if Wyatt has to play a woodwind or brass. She’s super pretty with black hair cut to her neck, big dark blue eyes, and freckles. Her horns are like those of a deer, and her tail is that of a white tailed deer too. She hides them both. All in all, Piper is happy with her life, but she’s still bothered by the fact that she’s never met her biological father, and she’s a little insecure still. She wants to travel the world, but is afraid to leave Middleverse, seeing as it’s the only home she’s ever known, and Aspen’s not strong enough to cast a semi-permanent glamour over her to hide the fact that she’s not human.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

473-474: “The Encircling Walls Activated! the Whitebeard Pirates Backed into a Corner!” and “Execution Order Issued! Break Through the Encircling Walls!”

Outrageous, Doflamingo? I think the word you are looking for is awesome.

I’m glad I watched two episodes this time. 473 seemed to be a prep episode and the dramatic payoff was delivered in 474. Like Whitebeard, I’m having a bad feeling about three (potential) foreshadowing moments in 474. I hope I’m wrong, but Oda has been hammering home the message for a while now and it conforms with a well-worn trope. 474 wasn’t all doom and gloom, though. There was an amazing revival and a scene that genuinely made me say “Wow...” out loud.

You just can’t rely on tech, Sengoku.

For most of 473, the Marine’s Advanced Wall Tech fell victim to Aokiji doing his job a little too well. Sengoku ordered the raising of the Encircling Walls. Except, Aokiji’s vast sheet of ice made it difficult for the mechanism raising the wall to work. Sengoku spent 473 sweatdropping at the fact Whitebeard was charging straight at the scaffold. He had faith that the tech would work, however, and the Marines gradually stole away inside, leaving Kumas and Pirates on the battlefield.

While charging after Luffy, Ivankov noticed this (as only a season Revolutionary Army commander could, I suppose). Jimbei acknowledged it, but what could they do about it?

Sengoku continued to sweatdrop. “Are they ready yet?” he kept asking, as the distant dot that was a raging Whitebeard grew larger. But the ice would not budge. The gears were not grinding, though Sengoku’s certainly were.

Enter Vice-Admiral John Giant, who decided to act as hype fodder for Whitebeard buy Sengoku time and have a swing at Whitebeard. I loved the guy’s name and I loved this whole sequence. John Giant and Whitebeard clashed blades. Whitebeard told him to move it, then pulled off a literal power move. He grabbed the fabric of reality with his bare hands, tore it and the earth literally shifted.  Then he air-crack punched John Giant so hard he was sent screaming back towards Sengoku. The only reason the scaffold wasn’t destroyed was because the Admirals deflected the human missile. 

Courtesy of Whitebeard, Marineford is ruined, the land is tilting at a very strange angle, many ships were sunk and Luffy almost fell into a chasm, only to be saved by Jimbei. Again. xD

(What would happen if Luffy fell into a hole like that? Would he bounce? I’m still uncertain why he wasn’t able to stretch out his arms to full capacity to pull himself back out. Is he tired?)

Amidst the chaos, Doflamingo laughed maniacally, as you would if you were a few ants short of a picnic.

I loved how the Admirals bickered among themselves when John Giant fell victim to Whitebeard hype:

Aokiji: “The walls aren’t ready yet. That’s what’s causing this mess.” Akainu: “Your ice is blocking them!” Kizaru: “Can’t you just melt it?”

Or... you could have Sengoku order full power directed to the walls, which did the job in the end. Well, sort of. The vast, steel walls reinforced to counter Whitebeard’s power, and kitted out with hundreds of cannons looked pretty impenetrable. Then Sengoku turned to Akainu and said, “Do it.”

I thought, oh, that’s an interesting order. Another scheme cooked up between the two Absolute Justice Friends. Akainu’s trick was awesome, I have to admit. When the Fiery Fists of Justice rained down from above, the anime team went mad with red-tinged frames, flashes of white and images of pirates being punched to oblivion, boiled by lava-melted ice, caught by cannon fire or predatory kumas. The Whitebeard Pirates and Allies did look on the ropes and I did worry for a moment.

Thank goodness Little Oars Jr was slumped over the final panel, leaking blood into the mechanism, eh?

Trapped!

It was round about this time in episode 474 that the Ominous Foreshadowing moments appeared.

The action briefly cut to The Rest of the World Via Sabaody. Turns out the other Rookie crews had gathered clandestinely to watch the war (it sounds so weird saying that, like they’re watching a World Cup match and people aren’t dying). I liked seeing the reactions of some of the captains. Bonney seemed to be devastated by the news Whitebeard sold out his allies. Trafalgar Law didn’t believe a word. Apoo was aware of World Government propaganda and knew why the feed had been cut. I can’t remember what Kidd said. But Hawkins drawing the Death card is ominous. 

I don’t know anything about tarot, so I had to google it. Apparently, cards have different meanings if they’re upside down or not. Hawkin’s card is not upside down, so it could mean:

- the ending of a major phase or aspect of your life that may bring about the beginning of something far more valuable and important

- a time of significant transformation, change and transition

- elements of a sudden and unexpected change. You may feel as though you are caught in the path of sweeping change and cannot escape its effects. Though the immediate thought is toward the negative, an end need not mean failure.

At first, I thought, how does this apply to Luffy? But then I realised it might be more appropriate to apply it to the future of Piracy as a whole. Doflamingo is obsessed with the New Era and how dreams are obsolete. Blackbeard thinks that’s a load of old shite, but both he and his crew are obsessed with fate and being caught paths of sweeping change, unable to escape their effects. Everyone needs to move on after this and where the future will take pirates, no one knows, but I’m guessing there will be major changes afoot. Maybe some of the hot shit new rookies will take up the mantle and drive it forward. Who knows?

This made it more obvious that change is afoot.

That moment was sad. I wanted to reach through the screen and punch Akainu for bombing the Moby Dick. I’m still not over Merry and seeing a ship that was symbolic of the absolute pinnacle of piracy: of freedom, comradeship, power and discovery actually made me die inside a little. Not to mention the very symbol of Whitebeard snapped off in the flames and was trampled on the ground. That is a big giveaway. 

Whitebeard looked back, his eyes reflecting the firelight and said, “I’m sorry...” to his grand, old faithful ship and... Ugh. 

I wonder what the little ship spirit said back?

I have the funniest feeling the Death card could also be interpreted literally. Like, Whitebeard is going to die, which I don’t really want but all the flags are there. He’s old, not what he used to be, he’s just been stabbed through the chest, his Jolly Roger is in flames, trampled on the ground and his ship - the symbol of his glory - is a smoldering wreck at the bottom of the sea.

But then again...

Oars is Alive: Death or Glory!

The fact that Oars is alive gives me hope that all the death foreshadowing this episode might amount to nothing. I was wrong about Oars (nice time to take a nap btw, Oars, ffs).

I did like when Marco said to Squard, “Oars is still fighting” even though he was flat out, basically hinting, “Get out there, stop crying and make it up to Whitebeard.” Oars resolve was also symbolic in a way. His path and the literal blood he shed was the only way forward. When Luffy made his last forward charge down the only narrow opening left, the anime team even backlit Oars’ body to resemble a fiery light at the end of the tunnel. Death or glory!

 Ace is still not having a great time. He couldn’t watch as Luffy was blasted away by cannon fire and sunk into the water in front of his. Only Jimbei’s timely response saved Luffy from drowning. (Jimbei for Man of the Match, honestly. I wonder how many times he’s saved Luffy so far?)

It fell to Jimbei again when Luffy realised he had no hope of charging straight into cannon fire with as much aforethought an angry rhinoceros. 

That moment when Luffy appeared in front of the Admirals in a pillar of water, swinging a chunk of mast genuinely made me say, “Wow...” aloud. I bet the screenshot above was taken from the manga. It looks like it should have been. A lot of care’s gone into it. It looks great.

Again, the Admirals’ reactions were interesting.

Akainu: You're standing tall, Dragon's son. I praise you just for your tenacity.

Kizaru: What makes you think you can beat us?

Aokiji: You’ve not leveled up enough to have a crack at us yet, son.

Well, Luffy’s gonna try! That frozen mast shattered into pieces by a Stamp Gatling might give him enough cover to pull off a miracle.

Looking forward to the next one now. Now Luffy’s at the scaffold, it’s getting good.

After rehearsing for weeks in Akainu’s bedroom, Sengoku finally lets the Admirals show off their dance routine.

[preyed-llama]

Death’s Angel

Chapter 1: 

Words: 1403

Summary: Superheroes weren’t rare, but they were uncommon, it’s not that much of a surprise when they end up at the same place at the same time. And it’s certainly not uncommon for them to team up. 

The Trio were well known for their powers and were symbols of hope. Death’s Angel always refused to join them in the light in the past. 

Author’s note: Thanks to @paradoxicallester for helping with the names, and thanks to the people in the chat who helped with the title. And thanks to you guys for being so patient.

Ship: Future Analogical. 

Warnings: Blood, violence. 

The bank alarms rang through the area. Virgil was already racing down the alley way. He jumped through the wall, his molecules shifted and tugged as he moved through the brick. Six men stood with their guns draw. He scanned the crowd, at least thirty, some kids. The bullets phased straight through his form as he quickly shifted invisible, his heart hammered in his chest. The men started to look around, their eyes were wide as they pointed their guns at any sound.

Virgil’s skin crawled as he passed into one of the men’s body. His own body fell limp to the ground. The men spun around and aimed their guns as the seemingly dead body. Virgil swung around, the man’s body moved slowly and sluggish. He swung the gun. A man crumbled to the ground, unconscious.

The guns shifted to him, and instantly he shifted back to his original body before the bullets flew. The man doubled over as Virgil raced up and round house kicked one of the distracted men in the head. He shifted back just as the bullets flew towards him. They moved right through him and imbedded themselves in the wall behind him.

He heard glass shatter over head as The Prince of the Skies dropped down. His golden wings disappeared into his back. Virgil scowled as the prince flew over to the door and unlocked it, the men were shoved out of the way.

Empathy shot in, Kinetic Energy on his heels. The two superheroes looked over at the men. “Thanks for letting us in, Kiddo!” Empathy said as he started to move over to the hostages. The Prince raced in, his newly sprouted tail threw men around as his claws ripped through anyone who dared to come near. Kinetic Energy focused on stopping the bullets that moved towards his friends.

The Hostages shimmered out of view as the crying and screaming fell silent. Virgil moved into the battle again. His elbow connected with one of the men’s head and instantly he crumbled to the ground. “Nice of you to join us, Spirit.” The Prince said mockingly.

Virgil rolled his eyes as he tried to shove off the circle of men around the two other supers. He kicked a man in the stomach and watched him curl in on himself. “Death’s Angel? There’s three more!” Kinetic Energy shouted from the other side of the room.  

He glanced over, and sure enough, three more men had entered from the vault below. Virgil let out a sigh and shifted into one of their body’s. His original body dropped to the floor as Virgil moved quickly and slammed the gun into the side of man’s head. The third swung to attack him, and quickly he dropped to the ground. A new body felt like a new leather jacket and didn’t move much better. He barely managed to drop to the ground as the man through the punch. Virgil swung the new body’s leg out and watched as the man fell backwards. He barely had a chance to let out a groan when Virgil pushed the unfamiliar foot into the man’s chest and pushed him against the ground. He slammed the butt of the rifle into the man’s head before he turned back to the rest of the room. Roman swung a right hook and instantly the other man fell to the ground. The three superheroes looked at each other. Virgil shifted back into his original body before he waved at the two men and shifted invisible.

“You know, if you want proper recognition you can’t keep hiding after every battle.” The Prince shouted as he wiped the blood on his hands onto his red cloak. His white outfit was covered in speckles of blood as his intricate gold eye mask seemed tinted red. Virgil wasn’t sure if the red patch in his sandy blond hair had some blood through it too, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that.

Kinetic Energy rolled his eyes. His armoured suit seemed to be weighing him down as the dark blue jacket he wore over the top seemed to be more casual than for actual use, although he did tend to stick away from the battle, so it probably wasn’t that big of a deal. The full-face mask did nothing to hide the annoyance that was very clear in his dark blue eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind when I want to hand over my secret identity.” Virgil’s robotic voice said. The mask buzzed as the slight delay made it hard to focus on what to say next.

The Prince rolled his eyes and opened his mouth and went to respond when Empathy walked through the doors again as he slowly smiled at them. “Hey, Kiddos!” He said happily as he walked over to his two partners. “The press is outside.”

“Thank you, Pat- Padre.” The Prince said quickly as he eyed the patch where Virgil was. The ghostly hero shifted slightly before he started to walk out of the building. “Padre.” The Prince affirmed awkwardly. Empathy smiled widely and gestured to the door. Kinetic Energy and The Prince started to walk outside as they chatted with each other. Large smiles bloomed on their faces as cameras went off.

The alley was dark and miserable, and smelled vaguely like urine. Rats ran around as Virgil stalked down the alleyway towards his cheap apartment. He could hear the shouts from people as they tried to talk to the heroes. Virgil felt nauseated at the thought of all that attention, even with his outfit, he found himself far more suited to the behind the scene things.

He looked down at his outfit. The black did a good job of hiding all of the blood, as his uncovered shoulders contrasted sharply, his pale skin always seemed paler when he was fighting, he wasn’t sure whether it was from the contrast of his suit or the way his powers drained him. His mechanical mask hugged the lower half of his face, from halfway up his nose to the bottom of his chin. Although it got fresh air through the filters, it always felt stuffy and frustrating. He pulled up his eyebrows to try and loosen the thin mask that hugged the skin around his eyes. How Empathy could wear it with no problems, Virgil had no idea. It always left his skin irritated and sore.

He paused and pushed the hood from his head. It fell and rested just behind his neck as a small breeze passed through his sweat soaked hair. He peeled off his masks and unclipped the armoured gloves that covered his arms. His skin was thankful for the breeze to fight off the after effects of a fight.

The walk home took close to twenty minutes as the sun beat against his skin. The invisibility was draining him of more of his energy than the walk itself was. The city moved around him as he tried to avoid bumping into anyone, several times he had to become intangible to avoid crashing into someone. He almost stopped at Starbucks when he saw a familiar face in the crowd. He decided against it when he thought about how people might react to a known superhero getting coffee from a local Starbucks, he figured he could just buy something later.

Remy was shamelessly flirting someone as Virgil sluggishly made his way up the road again. He might as well be dead, he was practically a zombie anyway. More interested in caffeine than a regular zombie, but a zombie nonetheless. He brushed his hair out of his face and walked up the flight of stairs. Each step felt like his legs were closer and closer to giving way as his muscles strained to keep him moving.

He phased straight through the door and dropped his invisibility and intangibility. His body felt like it was shedding a 200-kilogram bag as he stumbled towards his room. He closed the door behind him and peeled off his suit. He considered going for a shower when his legs gave way. His back connected to the wall as his arm shot out to steady himself. His legs took several moments before they were able to withstand the weight. He pulled on an over-sized hoodie and collapsed into the bed. His eyes slid closed as his mind slipped away from reality.

Congrats you just got through the first chapter. Tune in later for the next. 

[bastionkeeper]

@mykindofcontent and I have a habit of swapping headcanons and expanding on them and that turning into dialogue and descriptions and finally I took one of these sessions and cleaned it up, added some stuff in the middle to connect it all and so I present to you a jupeter fic born of Sierra’s genius and my wit. Enjoy!

 Maybe Juno should have been a little more believing when Nadir Archer came to his office, trembling and informing him in panicked tones that his property had been stolen by the most ruthless group of black market traders this side of Mars. To be fair, it seemed everything made Nadir nervous, including when Rita opened a soda that had gotten shaken up in her purse on the way to work. Juno had thought that he’d find the valuables with some two-bit burglar and call it a day by lunch. What he did not expect to find was a warehouse full of corpses.

“Damn…” Juno stood up from the third pulse he’d bothered to check thinking that maybe he didn’t have to try for a fourth. “Well this complicates things.”

What complicated them more was the body he noticed as he went to leave. He wouldn’t have paid them any mind at all if it weren’t for the fact that they took a desperate spluttering breath very suddenly as Juno walked by.

“Shit!” Juno got control of his heart attack just in time to recognized the face that was coughing up blood. It was like his heart went from pounding to standing still in seconds as he saw Peter Nureyev looking up at him with glassy eyes.  

"Hey, hey, Nureyev, Peter look at me. Come on, breathe for me." He fell to his knees, drawing Peter up into his arms, speaking with his voice shaking. Juno had thought he’d never see Peter Nureyev again, and here he was. Juno had left him close to a year ago, but it felt like minutes looking at him. Juno dialed Rita on the comms, and of course she didn’t pick up. He tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta live so you can tell me off and be mad at me for being such an asshole."

Peter was silent at first, and Juno was dismayed to see a small smile spread across his face as he reached up with a blood-stained hand to stroke Juno’s cheek. He must have been delirious judging by the calm, slurred tones of his voice.

"You're so beautiful, Juno. I'm glad I, I got to see you again."

It was like a punch to the gut.

"No, stop that." Juno chokes. "Rita where the fuck are you?" He hissed into the comms, getting a dial tone in reply.  "Stop sounding like you're saying goodbye Nureyev I won't have it."

"I'd rather say goodbye then just leave." Peter smiles weakly.

"Okay I deserved that but that's not the point."

Despite the joke Juno was starting to panic. There’s a feeling a body gets when the life starts to drain out of it. Juno Steel had the extreme displeasure of being quite familiar with that feeling. The way the person begins to go limp and almost seems lighter in your arms as if shedding off the soul made a person lighter.

He could feel Peter growing lighter.

He didn’t realize he was crying until Peter’s rose from his cheek and went to wipe tears from his eyes, but the thief’s vision was going dark so he missed, and his hand slowly fell. Juno’s comms got Rita’s voicemail again, and Peter was unconscious.

Juno Steel was a lot of things. He was a drunk, occasional pawn in political games, a lady that left without saying goodbye but what he wasn’t was a quitter.

Which is why he lifted Nureyev into his arms, best he could with the man being a good foot or so taller than him, and started running as fast as he could.

By some miracle he made it to the hospital, lungs on fire and arms giving out. Normally, it would take several missing limbs to get the attention of any Hyperion doctor, but Juno had made quite the entrance running in with a pale half-corpse in his arms, covered in blood and trying with empty lungs to scream for help.

“Sir, you can’t come into the operating room,” the nurse tells him as they pull Nureyev onto a gurney and Juno struggles to keep pace with them down the long hallway.

Juno realizes he’s arguing but the nurse argues better, and before he knows it he’s sitting in a waiting room with a dozen crying kids with broken arms and runny noses, filling out paperwork that he can’t be bothered to pay attention to.

A nurse came to ask him his relation to the patient, and Juno thought for half a second before answering.

“He’s my husband, Duke. Duke Rose.”

The doctors keep him updated as the hours pass. They try to ask what happened and Juno tells the truth, he doesn't know. He just found his husband bleeding out and is so goddamn worried. It occurs to Juno that maybe he should be thinking about what happened. After all, he got hired to find stolen goods and who should he find at the end of the trail but notorious thief Peter Nureyev.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, Nureyev?” Juno sighed under his breath. And then: “What did you get yourself into, Steel?”

He was grateful he told them Peter was his husband, because when he finally gets out of surgery Juno gets lead right to his room. It’s not a pretty sight with the tubes and beeping machines that make every hospital unsettling but Peter…

He was so pale, almost gray, dark circles under his eyes mirroring dark bruises on his skin. Bound up under a hospital gown, and surely stitched together like a patchwork quilt under that.

“You can press that button if you need a nurse.”

Juno nodded to the attendant, mouth dry. He found a chair by the wall and sat there for a while before dragging it up to the bed and sitting there.

He felt antsy. Faced with a problem he couldn’t solve, a mystery he couldn’t solve either, and a man he’d left in the night… it was a lot to take in all at once. He wanted to hold Peter’s hand, hell he wanted to hold all of Peter but he didn’t think he had the right. What would Nureyev think waking up to Juno clutching his hand like he had any right to?

No, he just sat by the bed until the clock went from ten p.m. to two a.m. and Juno’s head slowly lowered onto the bed where he fell asleep. In the twilight between waking and sleep, his hand reached out and took Peter’s.

Juno was still asleep when Peter woke up, wincing in pain and blinking in the harsh hospital light. Last thing he remembered was pain, and now here was more pain so that tracked at least. The hospital, however, was unexpected and so was the lady sleeping hunched over with his head on the bed and his hand wrapped around one of Peter’s.

Peter went to sit up, and immediately Juno stirred. His eyelids fluttered and he cleared his throat as he sat up. He looked bewildered and grateful, and that was reflected in what he said next: "thank fuck you're awake."

“Thank… fuck indeed,” Nureyev chuckled. “Juno Steel… I thought I dreamt you.”

"More like a nightmare if it was me..." He sighed, and realized he was holding Peter's hand. He went to pull away but Peter held it tighter. "I uh... I told them we were Duke and Dahlia." He says quietly.

"Rule one, Juno, never reuse a name," Peter said softly, but he looked pleased. Juno had no way of knowing, but the reference to their past personas had sparked butterflies in Nureyev’s stomach. He started running his thumb over Juno's fingers. "Thank you"

"You’re welcome I guess...?" He wanted to say more, but what? All he could do was stare at their entwined fingers. "What happened to you, Nureyev?"

"A deal gone wrong. My employer's rival showed up at the drop site and decided he rather kill me too than pay me what my late employer had promised," Peter said. “Honestly, it was embarrassing I even let myself get caught.”

"You need a new job," Juno said, earning himself a look from Peter. "Yeah okay, we both need new jobs"

"What about you, hm?" Peter asked curiously. "Seems peculiar you happened to find me."

Juno shrugged. “Luck. I heard a rather shady deal was going down for some things stolen from my client."

“Ah.” Peter nodded. "Must we always meet like this? On opposite sides of the law?" Peter chuckled and then winced from the movement. Juno watched the pain flash across Peter’s face and clenched his teeth.

It hit him all at once that he’d almost lost Peter before he’d had a chance to beg his forgiveness.

"Look, Nureyev I.." He started to apologize, to address the elephant in the room, but a doctor walked in cutting him off.

And what the doctor has to say makes Juno's blood run cold. Peter wasn't minutes from death he was seconds. The doctor praised Juno for his timely action but Juno wasn’t really in the mood for compliments. The doctor goes on to talk about Peter’s condition, saying medical terms Juno probably wouldn’t understand even if it weren’t for the blood rushing in his ears.

He has a long painful recovery ahead of him and the doctor makes a comment about how Dahlia will have to watch his husband very carefully

"Tha-That shouldn't be an issue." Juno said, keeping Peter's hand in a white knuckled grip. Peter seemed to be taking the news a lot better than Juno was. He just smiled calmly, nodding along to the doctor and letting Juno crush the bones in his hands with his anxious grip.

Once the doctor left, Peter smiled sadly at Juno. “It won’t be necessary of course, I can take care of myself.”

"Oh like hell you can. I'm not leaving you to deal with this alone." Juno said without hesitation.

"You already did, Juno. I'll be fine." Peter replied softly.

With that painful bit of guilt stabbing him through the chest Juno decided to fall back on an old coping mechanism: sarcasm.

"Well you've been away awhile so maybe you haven't heard about my stunning character development. I’m a new lady.”

Peter laughed, and laughing turned to daggers in his lungs and wheezing coughs. Juno leaned forward and rubbed Peter’s back, his brow furrowing with concern. "Hey, take it easy, I'll try to stop being so hilarious."

When Peter recovered he smiled at Juno. “So, tell me about the new and improved Juno Steel then.”

“Well you know…” Juno stammered. “Well uh, he eats breakfast now. And he’s still bad at sleeping enough, but he’s trying. And he talks more about how he feels but he’s still mean about it...”

Juno watched Peter’s smile widen with each little joke and admittance of self-care.  "He's.. He's more prepared to face the man he's desperately in love with too. He’s… he wants to apologize." He said without looking at Peter, his voice shaking.

"Mm.. Whoever this man is, he's very lucky." Peter watched Juno with eyes so full of… something Juno couldn’t identify.

Juno looked back at Peter. "I'd say I'm the lucky one here... I thought you were going to die"

"It takes more than that to kill me," Peter teased.

"I..." Juno dropped his head to the bed. "I can't lose you."

Peter stroked his hair. "You never did."