#in a situation where he needed a fight or flight response he opened up a portal instead

[thematicparallel]

I have great respect for your husband, and I know what he wants me to say... that you have no choice but to use me and my men to hunt for you, that I am your only means of survival. But let's be honest. If that is all I can offer you, then my men and I are dead before the sun rises tomorrow, because you know there is always a choice to be made, and you don't trust me at all. So... let us assume that I can offer you something better. You have hidden in this place for a lifetime, hidden from the harsh realities that lie beyond this veil that you have constructed here, but the moment that that shot entered his belly, that veil began to unravel, and sooner or later, you are going to have to confront these realities, chief among them being that England takes whatever, whenever, however it wants. Lives. Loves. Labor. Spirits. Homes. It has taken them from me. I imagine that it has taken it from you. And when that veil drops altogether, they will come for more. You're suggesting that you could help us prevent England from taking these things? No, I am suggesting that we help each other start taking things back, and it starts with Nassau. You cannot stay here. This camp's secrecy is its virtue, but that secrecy is going. Nassau is defendable. Nassau can supply itself. Is that not exactly the sort of place that could replace this? A place that you could settle? Settle? Governor Woodes Rogers holds Nassau Town with a full company of British regulars. He holds the harbor with a small navy. He holds the men on the street with his pardons. Woodes Rogers has an inoperative fort, responsibility for an administrative nightmare that isn't going away just because he wants it to, and an island full of hunters that may be placated for now, but could be awoken. That I could awaken. How do you propose to do that? They pledged to follow me when they thought I was alive. They turned when they thought I was gone. So I will come back from the dead and lay claim to what I am owed. Let's say that by some miracle we could dislodge the British from Nassau. I could not possibly hope to defend it with my numbers. Your numbers? For every man in your camp, there are thousands somewhere in the West Indies living under the same yoke, chained in fields, pressed on ships, sold into indenture. When they see a sitting governor protected by his majesty's navy, deposed by an alliance of pirates and slaves, how many consider joining that fight? How many thousands of men will flock to Nassau, join your ranks, and help you defend it? What does a colonial power do when the men whose toil powers it lay down their shovels, take up swords, and say, "No more"? Bring down Nassau, maybe you bring it all down.

[irisintheafterglow]

just too soft for all of it

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: taylor swift - "sweet nothing"

summary: you only call bakugo when you need his body. what happens when you need him for a different reason? (prohero!bakugo x reader)

wc: 1.1k

cw/tags: fwb to lovers, no explicit smut (just implications and allusions but mdni just in case), descriptions of anxiety and a panic attack, angst/comfort with happy ending, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, babe), broken glass, stubborn reader and even more stubborn katsuki

note: is this my coping mechanism for all the 'casual' inspired fics i've seen lately? possibly. will i continue to keep reading said 'casual' inspired fics? definitely. haven't written kats in a hot minute, hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

"I need you." 

"I'm busy. This new report shit is going to be the death of me, I swear–"

"I need you right now. Please." Your voice shakes and he mistakes it for horny desperation.

"Aww, you need me that bad? Need me to come and make you feel good, is that it?" He smirks patronizingly and you hear it through the phone, despite your vision going in and out of clarity.

"Katsuki," you breathe, and his hand goes deathly still over his paper. You never said his name like that; you always addressed him outside of the covers as 'Bakugo' or 'shithead' or 'asshole.' He hears you swallow, his senses finally returning and realizing just how exhausted you sound. "I can’t breathe–I think I'm...I think I'm having a panic attack and-and I can't calm down and it's–it's too much and–"

"Breathe, sweetheart," he says before you can continue, his hand flinging open his front door and blasting himself into the darkness. "Just hold on, I'm on my way." 

By the time he’s let himself into your apartment, it’s nearly midnight. He considers toeing off his shoes at the door but quickly decides against it when he spots the broken glass scattered across your dining room floor. You’re hugging your knees close to your chest, so backed up against the floor cabinets that he almost missed you when he looked for you in the kitchen. The glass crunches beneath his shoes as he crouches down to look at you, relief flooding him as he realizes the glass didn’t injure you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trembling even as he peels your arms away from your sides. “It just–I was making late dinner and one of my glasses broke and everything just came crumbling down…” He’d never seen you like this; you were always the collected one, the one who was always teasing him for being stressed when, in reality, you were just better about hiding all the weight on your shoulders. Your breath comes in short inhales and pained exhales and it’s like Katsuki’s body instinctually knows what to do. Taking your hands in his, he presses them against his chest at the exact spot where you can feel his heartbeat. It’s steady as a steam engine, thumping below your fingertips. In through the nose. Without breaking eye contact, he exhales a deep breath, nodding encouragingly when you copy him. Out through the mouth. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he murmurs, breathing deeply again and again and again until your body ceases its fight or flight response. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Just keep breathing.” 

“Katsuki…” 

“We’ll talk after, I promise,” he gently reassures you, softer than you’d ever heard him speak. “For now, I need to make sure you’re okay.” In through the nose, out through the mouth. Even when he knows the situation is de-escalated, he doesn’t dare move his hands, nor stop modeling deep breathing. He waits for you to say that you’re done, to yank your hands away and mock him for being so caring and thoughtful, attributes that didn’t come with your strictly physical relationship. You don’t; you stay there on the floor with him until the tension in your body completely releases, leaving you slumped against your cabinets. You move to position your knees under you, but his hands catch your wrists a split second before your palms hit the floor. You glance at him with a confused expression. “The glass, babe. Lemme put you on the couch and I’ll clean it up.”

“You don’t need to do that. I can clean it when I’m–” You’re cut off by the sensation of being lifted off the ground, his arms effortlessly bringing you against his chest and laying you on your living room couch. “Wait, I can just clean once you leave."

“Stop,” he grumbles with a burst of intensity that takes you aback. “I’m gonna take care of you, so sit and wait until I’m done. Got it?” You blink at him but he doesn’t relent, and you’re forced to nod and wait as he meticulously sweeps and vacuums every single particle of glass until sleep is nudging at your eyelids. He’s just stuck your vacuum back in the closet as you muster up the energy to stand, stumbling in the direction of your room. “Fucking hell, you don’t know when to quit,” he mutters, sweeping your legs out from under you again and carrying you the rest of the way to your bed. 

“Who knew you could be so doting?” 

“You’re mocking me when I’m literally carting you around your own place. Unbelievable,” he scoffs, carefully settling you on the covers and taking a seat at the edge. 

“I’m not being sarcastic,” you reply, your eyelids sleepily opening and closing. “I really am surprised that you’re taking care of me like this.” 

“Of course I’m taking care of you, dumbass,” he grunts. “I know we said no attachment, but you’re more than a body to me.” His voice quiets but you hear it anyway, smiling against the pillow. 

“When were you gonna tell me that, idiot?”

“Not sure. Was waiting for the perfect moment.” He shrugs, reaching over to run his hand up and down the side of your thigh. 

“And you think this is it?” 

“It’s definitely not, but it felt like the right thing to say.” You hum in contentment and he slyly rubs his hand backward just to see what happens. 

“Easy there, cowboy,” you chuckle, looking up at him over your shoulder. “Even when I’m broken, you can’t resist grabbing my ass.” 

“You’re not broken. Don’t say that about yourself. And even if you were,” he scolds, though you know there’s no venom behind it. “Guess who’s gonna be the one to put you back together?” You hum again and he can feel your consciousness slipping. “You gonna let me stay the night, sweetheart?” 

“Is the sky blue, dumbass?”

“Just checking,” he grins, positioning himself beside you and flipping you over to face him. You groan in protest but still mold yourself into Katsuki’s chest, his arm securing you against his body. “G’night.”

“Night, Katsuki. Don’t let your alarm wake me up early or I’ll kick you in the dick,” you warn, your body further relaxing in his warm safety. 

“After everything I’ve done for you tonight? So ungrateful.” You snort, drifting off with a smile on your face that makes his heart stutter. He double checks that all his alarms are off and, for good measure, turns off his phone entirely. No one’s reaching him tonight, not when you’re his first priority. When he’s sure you’re out, he whispers the real reason why, even when it wasn’t a booty call, he rushed to you in the middle of the night. 

“Mmm,” you hum and he freezes, having no idea whether you were responding or just making that noise in your sleep. “I love you too, Katsuki.” 

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[shycloudkitty]

IVE RETURNED AGAIN!

X 3

Imagine leon with an s/o who likes to bake. But when they do bake it's hit or miss. 50% chance that the baked item is good and edible and 50% the baked item is half raw and burnt and looks like something a bit weapon threw up

My baking experiments usually go very well or very poorly 💀

I fear I may have 'cooked' with this one

Get it? 😃

Wait, no don't leave-

Happy little accidents ;)

Summary: You were baking some chocolate brownies as a surprise for your exhausted boyfriend who recently came home from a mission in Alcatraz. And things took a left turn.

Pairing: DI! Leon Kennedy × Fem! Reader

WC: 1.9K

Tags: PTSD mentions (just one), relationship fluff, established relationship, age gap-ish (if you wanna), Leon being a sweetheart❤

Leon was taking his nap on a Sunday afternoon when he heard the fire alarm of his house beeping and a very noticeable smell of food burning from the kitchen.

He immediately woke up and sat up straight, his eyes wide and head turning left to right searching for the source and also desperate to see where you were. You weren't beside him which was concerning, cause if the house is on fire…Where were you?

The smell is coming…from Kitchen. Oh no.

HIs flight and fight response kicked in and he threw away the blanket from him and immediately made a run, looking for you. Cause if the house is on fire the first thing he wanted to make sure if you were still alive. He doesn't wanna lose you, he can't.

“Babe?! Where are you?” He shouted as he left his bed in search of you. He could hear his own heartbeat as it pumped his blood fast in his veins. And his head was spinning from being half awake.

After the close call in Alcatraz, his body was on high alert. A part of him had a hard time relaxing because he had been on edge the entire week after coming from that hellhole. That's why he was napping because you had reassured nothing wrong was going to happen while he rested.

He shouldn't have fallen asleep. Why did he fall asleep? And now you were going to pay the cost of it by getting burned in the house fire. No… he can't let that happen. His thoughts ran wild as he let his legs lead him towards the source. The kitchen.

He rushes in the kitchen, eyes darting in search of you. “Babe! The house is on fire. We need to-” He pauses mid sentence when he sees you up on the kitchen counter with a small cloth furiously waving it in front of the fire alarm trying to move the smoke around.

Confused, he looks around, every window in the kitchen was open to let the smoke out. He wasn't exactly seeing a huge flame engulfing their home. So… what was going on?

While this was going on, you had finally taken notice of Leon, disheveled from his sleep, panting softly from running around the house and looking confused at the scene in front of him.

You froze when you realize he was standing there. Which meant you woke him up from his much needed sleep. And he probably didn't even comprehend the situation in its entirety before rushing to your aid because his sleep deprived brain thought you were in need of dire help cause of the alarm.

You felt really guilty for waking him up. You probably triggered his PTSD too. God, you just wanted to do something really sweet for him and here you were making things worse.

You smile sheepishly while being in the same awkward position on the kitchen counter. “Hey…babe, Did I wake you up?”

Your heart melts a bit when you see his cute little head tilt and eyebrows furrow from confusion like the ones golden retrievers do when they don't understand something. “What's going on, sweetheart?”

You sigh and slowly start to explain to him. “Well, I accidentally… burned something.”

Leon sees you slightly hesitating to go down from the kitchen counter. So, he walks up to you and places his hands on your waist in a gentle yet firm grip, basically picking you up from the counter & placing you down on the ground. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

His hands were still on your waist. Leon shrugs and asks. “What were you trying to do that you burned… something?” He was still a bit confused by the whole ordeal.

You exhale heavily and start explaining every part of your plan. “Well, you have been so on edge since your return. So, I thought I could bake you some brownies, you know, something sweet to ease you up.” You pout and wave at the mess of baking materials all strewn across on the counter, not one inch of empty space left. “Clearly, it all went wrong.” Crossing your arms with a huff.

Leon looks at the oven then back at the baking materials and heaves a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god, I thought the house was burning down. Phew.” His body relaxes and laughs as the realization sets in.

You raise an eyebrow and frown at his laugh. “What is that supposed to mean, sweetie?”

Translation: I'm this close to losing my shit cause I fucked up to make the most basic thing in baking, don't make me even more mad by laughing.

Leon immediately pauses, his eyes widening slightly at your reaction. He clears his throat and chuckles nervously. “Ohh uhh… I meant I…I'm really touched! That my princess wanted to bake some brownies for me, Truly.” His hands rubbing your sides and kissing your forehead for good measure.

Translation: I'm sorry for laughing, please spare my life.

You roll your eyes and groan from frustration. “Forget it, it's ruined. It turned out terrible and I almost set the house on fire.”

Leon's eyes soften as he hugs you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and letting you bury your face in his chest. “Aww, it's okay honey. We all make mistakes plus it's baking, it happens.”

You huff and grumble. “Not always. Sometimes I do really great, you know that.”

Leon softly drops a kiss on your shoulder, gently rubbing your arms to console you. “Yeah, see I know that, everyone knows that. This was just an accident. Like that guy, Bob Ross used to say umm… happy accidents? Wait what did he-”

You softly sigh and interrupt with a soft mumble. “He used to say ‘Happy little accidents’.”

Leon grins and kisses your temple. “Exactly, so well, shit happens sometimes. What can you do?” He adds on. “Plus, it can't be that bad, so the smoke detector went off. Big deal. Happens most of the time. That thing is busted.”

You pull back from the hug and looking at him with wide eyes. “Oh, it's bad. It's really bad. You don't wanna see it.”

Leon chuckles, not taking your words seriously (he should have). “Oh come on, now you are just exaggerating. Let me see.”

You shake your head. “Leon, no-”

“Princess, it's fine go on, show me.”

You sigh and pull away from the hug to show him the brownie. You take the baking tray out of the now smoke-clear oven and put it in front of him. “See, I told you. It's really bad.” You see his shoulders tense & his eyes widen from shock for a split second before he conceal with a neutral expression.

He shrugs and says. “What? no it's not bad…it's just…really…well cooked. That's all.”

You weren't lying when you said it looks bad. It looked like it was a brick used to make walls in hell, it was burnt that bad. He was 100% sure that if he broke them into pieces and chucked it at a zombie, let's just say he wouldn't need a gun anymore at missions he would just use these. But he also couldn't say all that to you. Especially when you were looking like a puppy who got kicked a few moments ago, with the saddest expression known to mankind.

Plus, it would be really shitty of him if he did that, like all you wanted to do was to make something sweet to make him feel more at home after coming from Alcatraz. He didn't tell you in detail what happened there but he knew you were worried sick when you got to know he was quarantined for few days before finally returning to you. You tried to hide your emotions the best you could regarding his well-being but he can read you like a book at this point.

So, he did what any other good boyfriend should do.

He took a deep breath before flashing his usual charming smile and shrugs. “Well, since you made it with your lovely hands, I obviously need to taste it.”

You look at him stunned. “Wait, what?”

He nods, grabbing a kitchen knife and says. “You heard me. I need to… taste it since you put so much effort for me.” He then tries to cut it and the knife makes a clink sound when he tries to cut a piece.

Forget killing a zombie with this, he could kill a tyrant with this and this little piece of hell will still be untouched.

But since he was under your eager eyes. He clears his throat, his smile turning a bit nervous. “Let's taste it then, hmm.” And he basically starts to saw through the brownie, using the knife like a fucking chainsaw.

You watch with bated breath and eyes wide from his actions, he was actually serious about eating it. You clear your throat and smile nervously. “Baby, you really don't need to do this.”

Leon finally manages to get a few crumbs, he picks up the biggest piece of those crumbs and says more to himself. “It's fine, I can do it.” He takes a deep breath and starts chewing it. A loud CRUNCH coming from his mouth as he ate it. He gave a thumbs up and maintaining his smile. “Perfect.” His voice sounding a bit harsh, coughing.

You kept looking at him shocked and dumbfounded. He was really ready to go this far? You immediately filled a glass of water for him and brought it to his lips. “Drink.”

He didn't protest against it and eagerly drank all of it. He exhales deeply and looks at you, his face flushed red. “I love you so much.”

You rub his back so he wouldn't have trouble swallowing it. “Oh, I'm aware. I love you too, Leon.”

He drinks another glass of water to cool off and slowly clears his throat, bringing his hands together. “So, as perfect as it was to eat that…I think this time we should bake the brownies together. Sounds good?”

You smile and nod. “Okay, yeah we can do that.” Picking up the brownie and throwing it in the dustbin.

You both start grinning at each other like idiots because how ridiculous this situation was. Leon takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his and kisses the back of your hand. “It’s fine, we will make sure this time it doesn't trigger the alarm.”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, okay. We can do that.” Squeezing his hand in response.

You both start to clean the counter at first before baking because it was looking like a raccoon ran through. You open your phone and start reading the recipe while he works. You both take turns in making those brownies and the environment had turned into much more playful and relaxed one.

Although, when you finally baked it, they weren’t looking like the ones in picture in the recipe book. But they were definitely delicious as you ate them with your boyfriend while watching a movie on the couch.

You both were cuddling on the couch when he kisses your temple with a soft whisper. “Thanks, for the brownies.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, for helping me.”

A little accident that brought you two more close. What could be better than that?

Thank you for requesting this! I hope you liked it. I definitely had a light bulb moment when I started to write this. Have a good day ;)

-Bella

[eu-nicola]

Strong Love - Enzo Vogrincic x Reader

summary: Enzo makes a bold decision to save his relationship after rumors of infidelity spread. warnings: without

from a request

You have been in London recording a film for a month now. You initially planned to travel with your boyfriend, Enzo. However, unforeseen circumstances kept him back in his home country, managing interviews for his new film and other commitments. Soon, your name flooded social media, not for your movie but due to a particular photo everyone was tagging you in.

It was Enzo with his ex-girlfriend, Sofia, seemingly happy and together on the streets at night. The moment you saw it, confusion and pain set in. You wanted to believe it was a mistake, but the evidence was there. Unable to gather the strength to confront him in person, you sent him a text message, desperately seeking an explanation.

On the other side, Enzo anxiously stared at his phone, feeling the tension building up as he contemplated your message. "I saw the photos, Enzo, and I need you to explain what's going on," your message read. The realization of the photo's error struck Enzo, and he feared you wouldn't believe him.

As you noticed his delayed response, you tried to focus on your work on the film set. A mix of emotions overwhelmed you, from surprise to anguish. The images of Enzo and Sofia haunted your thoughts, creating a knot of insecurity and sadness. While attempting to concentrate, you awaited the answers Enzo was willing to provide.

Enzo, understanding the gravity of the situation, desperately sought to explain. When you finally checked your phone, you saw his rushed messages justifying the encounter. Amidst the filming chaos, you struggled to concentrate and process the flood of notifications that made you feel powerless and hurt.

"Love, you need to know it wasn't what it seemed. I ran into Sofia on the street by chance, and we only talked for a moment. There were no hidden intentions, I promise."

"Sofia is part of the past; you are my present and future. I made a mistake not anticipating how it could affect you, and I take full responsibility. I am willing to do whatever it takes to fix this because you are the most important thing to me."

"I know the photos may seem compromising, but I'm being honest with you. It was an unexpected coincidence. I'm sorry; I love you."

You loved him, and you knew he was being honest, but it didn't ease the pain, especially considering Sofia's past harassment when you first started dating.

"Enzo, the photos are hard to ignore, but I appreciate your honesty. I need time to process it all. I'm hurt, but I want to believe in you. We need to talk when I return." There were still a few months left until your return, but if he was truly willing to fix things, you hoped he would understand and wait.

Enzo, feeling overwhelmed by the distance and the anxiety of waiting, made a bold decision after days of reflection. He decided he couldn't wait months to resolve things and was determined to fight for you.

Within a few days, without saying a word, Enzo arranged a flight to London. Landing in the bustling city, his heart pounded with nervousness about your unexpected reaction.

That same afternoon, a few hours before you finished filming, he appeared on the set, searching for you everywhere, asking everyone where you were, and the consistent response was, "in her dressing room." When he finally found your dressing room and knocked on the door, you opened it, thinking it would be anyone but him. Seeing him, you were completely surprised.

"Enzo, what are you doing here?" you asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement.

"I'm sorry; I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to see you, talk to you face to face. Explanations and apologies aren't enough through messages," he replied, determination in his eyes.

You were moved by the fact that he flew there just to see you, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you. He continued, "I made a mistake; I shouldn't have talked to her, and I'm willing to face the consequences. But I'm also willing to fight for us, to show with actions that this is what I want most in my life, that I love you."

After hours of conversation and shared tears, you forgave Enzo because you truly loved him and saw that each of his words was sincere. During that time, he stayed with you, and despite the rumors, you paid them no attention. Every day, you both seemed more in love than ever, and everyone noticed.

After some time, you returned home, and the return flight felt different; you were better, and you liked that. You didn't know how things would unfold, but something inside you told you that everything would be okay.

[callsign-rogueone]

fireproof - b.s.

cadet!Brennan Sorrengail x cadet!reader (young Brennan and Duchess!) words: 1.4k 🏷: no book spoilers because this happens before the events of fourth wing hehe. more of bb bren and bb duchess. set soon after the events of allies, so read that first! near-death situation / mortal peril, but no actual injury happens. I promise these two will communicate their feelings soon lol

You come to a stop in front of Brennan’s door, heart pounding. You hadn’t thought about this part, and you’re not sure what to do; you don’t want to knock, don’t want to wake up any of the other cadets -- it’s still very much four in the morning, and you’re not supposed to be out of your room.

You’re not supposed to be talking to a second dragon, either, but here you are.

Brennan pulls the door open, sparing you the decision -- Marbh must have woken him up. He’s quick to usher you inside, scanning you for injury. 

“This is going to sound absolutely insane,” you breathe, “but Marbh is in my head right now.”

He blinks the sleep from his eyes, still not fully awake. “What?”

“Marbh is talking to me. I have no idea why or how, and for some reason, I can’t reach Ban to ask.”

You both hear the orange daggertail’s response at once. “She is otherwise occupied, so she sent me.”

“That’s not vague at all,” Brennan says aloud, exasperated.

“If you must know, she is defending herself to the Empyrean right now.”

Your eyes widen. “The dragon council? Why?”

“That is for her to explain to you.”

Brennan notices you’re fully dressed, your longsword sheathed across your back and a thick cloak covering your shoulders. “If you’re going to find her, I’m coming too.”

He turns to open the closet, digging through it for a clean pair of flight leathers.

Your eyes catch the dark orange of the relic spanning his back, your cheeks warming as you realize he isn’t wearing a shirt. You whirl around, averting your eyes, but the sight is already burned into your brain.

You’d never realized how toned he is.

Focus, you tell yourself, shaking the thought from your head. Ban could be in mortal danger right now. 

“Ready,” Brennan says, shouldering his sword.

It’s absolutely freezing out, still the thick of winter, though there’s been a break in the snow this week, so you don’t need to worry about leaving footprints as you cross the courtyard.

Brennan leads the way, taking a shortcut through a door you’ve never even noticed before. 

Making it out of the fortress is the easy part. You step into the wet grass, and you realize you have no idea where to go.

“Marbh?” 

Silence. Literal crickets. Great.

You gather the slack of the black string connecting you to Ban and pull gently, seeing where it leads. Northeast, to the flight field and the vale. You make the climb silently, worried that if you speak, you’ll somehow alert whoever is threatening Ban to your presence, or that you won’t hear them coming.

You’ve never been out here, never been allowed to -- you still aren’t, and you probably never will be, but you push the thought aside as you continue. It’s surprisingly deserted out here, which is as equally concerning as it is relieving.

It’s so dark out that you almost mistake the orange daggertail ahead of you for Marbh. Almost. 

Marbh isn’t missing an eye; this is Melgren’s dragon, Solas.

His jaws open, and you know there’s no time to run, to fight, to beg for your life.

You yank Brennan behind you, praying to whatever gods will answer that your body will be enough to shield him from the fire.

It is.

You hear the roar, feel the heat, see the grass on either side of you catch, but you’re protected by an invisible wall that extends from your outstretched hands, keeping back the flame.

You plant your feet, fighting to stay upright and to keep doing whatever this is. It feels like you’re pushing a thousand pounds uphill, but if you stop, if you falter for even a second, or it will cost both you and Brennan your lives.

The blast stops, leaving a wall of flickering orange fire in front of you that fades after a split second.

You nearly collapse as you step backward. You’re exhausted, soaked in sweat and overheated despite the chill of the night air, your heart pounding and lungs burning like you’ve been running for miles.

Brennan holds you up, undoing the clasp of your cloak to help cool you off.

The ground shakes with the landing of multiple dragons. If they’re as mad as Solas is, you’re absolutely cooked. You have no idea how to do that again, or if you even can.

You want to tell him how sorry you are that you’d dragged him into this, that you shouldn’t have knocked on his door to tell him, you should have just gone alone, that when you die together, you'll spend the rest of your afterlife making it up to him, that your biggest regret in life will be not telling him how you felt about him, that you--

“Sorry I’m late, noble one.”

You whip your head up to see a black leg next to you. Ban. She’s brought company — Marbh, and a giant brown swordtail that you’ve never seen before. Brennan’s eyes widen in shock, but he stays silent, his arms still wrapped around you.

Marbh does not greet you, instead stalking past you toward the other orange dragon and baring his teeth in warning.

Oh, gods, are they going to fight? If Solas kills Marbh, it’ll kill Brennan too.

The brown steps forward, cutting Marbh off and stepping dangerously close to Solas. They lock eyes for a moment, and Solas backs up, but the other takes a step forward, forcing him to retreat. Solas quits while he’s behind, taking flight and disappearing over the ridge.

The brown dragon looks back at you, satisfied with his work.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, still terrified. If he could scare off Solas, he must be even nastier — or he must have said something to him that made a difference.

He nods his head at you in acknowledgment before he takes off.

The sun is starting to rise over the mountains, casting the scorched ground in gold. 

Brennan’s hands are on you instantly, checking you over for injury, but you’re more focused on the perfect half-circle of green grass beneath you that hadn’t been burned.

“You’re a fire wielder,” Ban answers, sensing your confusion. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally.

It had taken Brennan just over two weeks to discover that he was a mender, the rest of your class following suit quickly. You're the only first-year who is yet to attend Professor Carr’s lectures. 

You were beginning to think you might not have been going to get a signet at all.

“We never doubted you for a second,” another voice purrs -- not Ban or Marbh.

You startle. “What?”

A different one replies, a gruff male who sounds absolutely terrifying. “We’ve been watching you with great interest. I now understand what she saw in you on conscription day.”

This has to be a dream. There’s no way that four dragons are in your head right now.

“You’ll get used to it,” yet another adds. Five? 

“How many of you are there?” you ask aloud, eyes widening.

Another answers. “A dozen, for now. I am sure that many others will come to accept you in time.”

“Accept me? What?”

“As a human ambassador,” Marbh replies, as if it’s obvious. “We haven’t had one in nearly a century. It was about time.”

You notice a new string now sits beside the one you share with Ban, multiple threads of different colors twisted together into a thick rope.

You laugh in shock, processing. “But why me?”

“Because of this,” Brennan says softly, touching your forehead, “and this,” he rests his fingertips against your chest, keeping them there.

Your eyes meet, and you feel that magnetism you’d felt the day he’d first spoken to you. Your heart races under his hand.

“The boy is correct. You are the first in two human generations with this deep of a respect for our kind.”

You’re still looking at Brennan. You bring a hand up to grasp his, completely forgetting about the soot coating your fingers. It smears against his skin, leaving streaks of black across his knuckles, but neither of you seem to mind.

“Now would be an excellent time,” Ban prods.

You part your lips, working up the courage, but someone else speaks first; a human, that Brennan hears too, and the both of you freeze, turning toward the voice.

“Of all the students that I’d think to find sneaking out, you two were certainly not on the list.”

Professor Kaori. He looks thoroughly unamused, eyeing the four of you and the burned patches on the ground with suspicion.

Brennan looks back to you, and you nod in permission — there’s no lying your way out of this, not when the whole riot will know of the night’s events in a matter of minutes.

“You’re gonna want to hear her out, Professor.”

[darkstarofchaos]

Having seen some frankly irritating opinions from both sides of the aisle, I think some of y'all need to chill about the way the Decepticons were handled in EarthSpark.

Decepticon fans are allowed to be upset that the faction's depth and potential for development was tossed aside in favor of "Decepticons are just evil".

However, depth and potential doesn't mean the Decepticons have to be buddy-buddy with the Autobots. Depth is amoral, you can be a villain who resists "redemption" and still be a well-rounded character.

My issues with S2 vs S1 are as follows:

The lack of good explanation for why the sides are fighting again. I am not upset that the Cons are villains again. They have no reason to like or trust any human or Autobot, and gratitude for having your life saved only goes so far. My issue is that S2 literally opens by saying the Cons started the fight again just because that's what Cons do. Obviously the story is from the perspective of the main cast, and there are hints that they could be intentionally unreliable narrators (Starscream refers to them as oppressors, Breakdown challenges Bumblebee about giving up on Cybertron), but we aren't given enough time with the Cons to draw a solid conclusion about the intentions here.

The way the heroes treat Spitfire, i.e. a literal newborn. She was 100% in the right when she said that she didn't know the moral rules she was being expected to follow. But because she wasn't born with morals and an understanding of mortality preinstalled, the heroes condemned her instead of trying to de-escalate and take responsibility for their part in the situation (granted, Megatron was the only flight-capable adult present and he argued against de-escalation. Which tracks because he's Megatron. But someone should have pushed for a peaceful resolution).

How much depth do individual Decepticons still have? Who knows, Starscream, Shockwave, and Breakdown are the only ones with any focus. The others are only seen fighting, causing trouble for fun, or just standing around growling. Twitch - i.e. one of our main characters - literally spends an entire episode in the Con camp and we still manage to see nothing of Decepticon life when they're just hanging out. And yes, I know that the more characters you have in a scene, the harder it is to show their personalities. You can still show them playing cards or arm-wrestling or something. Anything to show that they're actually people and not just a hive mind that exists to fight.

Starscream. Specifically the last 20 minutes of the S2 finale, because everything else in his characterization fit S1 until that point. He literally calls the Autobots oppressors, so of course he's going to fight them. He wants Aftermath kept out of the way (that's a child, so that's perfectly reasonable) and he's frankly patient with Twitch-as-Spitfire, in spite of Skywarp's incredulity that he lets her "get away" with causing trouble (again, that is a child. Patience is the correct response). He even seems to like Spitfire after meeting the real her. The only issue I had with Starscream leading up to the second half of the finale was that his motivations didn't seem to be much deeper than "I want power" (I could be misremembering that point - there may have been an "Earth is going to be our home, let's make it better to live on" when he and Shockwave discussed Cybertron). And then the last 20 minutes happened and I can't see any logical extrapolation from S1 to that. It was just a generic "Starscream goes mad with power", and it came completely out of left field. Not even any remorse about what he "needed" to do or any attempt to justify himself, it was just, "Yeah, I'm worse than the people I called out for being oppressors, isn't it great?"

If there is some big plot twist where it turns out the heroes were unreliable narrators all along, some of my issues will actually be fixed. However, I find that extremely unlikely, for one major reason: all of the non-Decepticon characters who disagree with the heroes are either villains or they "come around". The Quintessons felt betrayed by Quintus? Nah, Quintus was a great guy, you can tell because he tortured a kid for wishing she had never been chosen by him. Prowl doesn't like the Autobots' reliance on children? Silly Prowl, those kids are special, we want them to fight. The narrative never, at any point, entertains the idea that those dissenting voices might have a point. Which means we're probably meant to take the heroes at face value on most, if not all things.

TL;DR: the Decepticons being villains makes perfect sense, even with the context of S1; it's the heroes acting like they're only fighting for power after we had several episodes about second chances and not all Decepticons being the same that makes it feel like a cop-out. And Decepticon fans are allowed to be upset that some of their favorite characters had interesting stuff going on only to be functionally relegated to Voiceless Grunt Number 3 (and yes, several Autobots have also been relegated to Voiceless Grunts. If one of your favorite characters has fallen victim to this affliction, regardless of faction, you have my sympathies).

[icannothink123]

Why den is both not purely an animal and can consent.

There alot of textual evidence but if that’s too long here some other form of offical evidence.

Mod statements

Ofifcal dev statements

Before you say “this is fake” or anything else here the link.

Now if you somehow still aren’t convince here the textual evidence and of course major spoilers below

Skeptic (aka lure) Den.

For this case it’s shows some of the clearest case of her humanity.

First of all to get the Tower out of the room the eyes.

If you say “oh it’s just the narrator interpretation” this is textually incorrect as shown below

You think narrator, the guy who literally calls her an animal moments later and is shown a constant horrible hatred of princesses. Would interpret her eyes as saying something so humanizing when that’s the exact opposite of what he wants you to see her as?

Even hero calls this out as shown below

Narrator reply is this

Which shows this isn’t just “just the narrator interpretation” it’s actual factual truth.

Now you may say “she kills you if you flinch! She’s an animals” she is a traumatized reactive woman. As seen in proto beast (stabbing her) how you killed her was by a sudden movement, another sudden moment like flinching might give her a trauma reaction and plus let’s not forget she’s starving and scared.

(Edit)

While you might say her acting on base instincts ��proves how much of an animal she is but it doesn’t. Often times when in dangerous situations, without much time to think people fall back into instincts behaving animistically, but this doesn’t make them animals.

But it’s states best by this user on discord.

i will add you can be sentient while also reacting to things instinctually. no one acts like the hunted isn't sentient because of his instincts. plus she is genuinely starving in this chapter. she is essentially feral in a lot of ways but in the same way humans can be feral. it's a very human response to extreme stress and trauma to lash out, become unable to speak, fall back on ingrained habits and patterns i.e. attacking someone because they've hurt you or you feel you need to hurt them, etc. she just gets more dangerous limbs to lash out with than a static human would. acting solely on instinct (even instincts that aren't typically human especially for literally not a human) when running on systems designed to force those instinctual reactions (fight or flight mode, trauma, etc) does not remove one's sentience, and you can literally have conversations with her, like if you both get trapped separately under the rubble and she asks if it's her fault you both ended up like this and fully comprehends your varying responses

- logical_leaf in BTG discord [routes and spoilers; The Den.]

Now for freeing her, when you get trapped for yourself what do you guess this ‘animal’ does?

Leave you to die?

No.

She returns for you.

Any animal would have taken the opportunity to leave you behind but she doesn’t. She in fact acutally frees you.

Stubborn (aka fight) Den.

Now you may think stubborn den where you fight her and even descend into madness would prove she is nothing more than an animal but this does the exact opposite.

First of all the shame.

In both cases where you either embrace instinct or take the opening she feels not fear but shame, and over what she have done specifically.

now before you go “well dogs and other animals can feel shame” no they cannot.

Shame is as stated by dictionary (.com) is

the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous, etc., done by oneself or another:

Shame ususally in context comes from feeling you did something wrong and or morally dubious.

Animal have neither of these concepts when say a dog breaks something it’s not shame there feeling it’s fear your going to hurt them, they don’t have a concept morality right or wrong.

Plus even if hypothetically animals could feel shame, what is den feeling shame for?

“What have we done?”

This is stated after violently or repeatly violently murdering each other and even if animals could feel shame I highly doubt any animal would feel shame for… Acting on instinct/engaging in other animalistic behaviors like consumption and violence.

This stems from a point of humanity and if she truly lost her humanity at this point she wouldn’t feel any of that, at best she would probably be upset she didn’t win or wasn’t able to kill what she thought was easy prey.

Now to answer some common arguments against this.

“Well she looks like an animal! So she is an animal and you are a zoo for liking animals!”

Please share where are the giant winged lions are irl and where can I fine them?/J

But I’m underage so I’ll rather not even humor this

Abby straight up said everything in this game was made to be hot so take it up to her for giving a ‘lion’ a snatched waist.

“Well you could get your face bitten off!”

Let’s see what else can happen?

Cut into a trillion pieces

Beaten to death

Disemboweled and tortured for millions of years

crushed by vines

Tortured via chains

Forced to kill yoirself

And alot more

In the grand scheme of things beast/den are actually safer than most princesses when it comes to dating.

Plus people often times fine all of those hot, so what’s wrong with anyone else being attracted to the fact you could be murdered at any time and at her mercy?

And before you say anything please don’t assume I want to fuck beast or den, some others might but bringing it up makes me deeply uncomfortable.

That’s it guys byeeee!

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 39 of????

1733 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

Namjoon had lain you down in one of the newly renovated bedrooms for a nap. The fresh paint smell tickles your nose as you rouse from your sleep, only acutely aware of the weight around your waist. Light still streamed in through the window on the far side of the room, signalling you hadn't lost too much of the day to your unplanned sleep. 

You try to sit upright only to find yourself blocked by the weight on your stomach. You look down and find an arm, tracing it with your eyes until you land on its owner's slumbering features. You push the dark tresses away from his face and admire how peaceful Taehyung looks sleeping beside you, or at least you thought he was... One of his eyes blinks open before squeezing tightly shut when he realizes you're staring at him.

"Taehyung-ah?" 

The man doesn't answer you, instead, he lets out a loud snore that could rival even Namjoon. 

"Tae?" You try again.

You tug at his hair to get him to move but his eyes just screw up tighter. 

"We really should talk," You sigh.

"But not talking is so much nicer, things aren't real if we don't talk, we just pretend to sleep forever." He mumbles into the pillows as he buries his head away from you.

It would be nice not to have to talk about anything, at least for a little while longer, but no one seems to have told that to the knot in your stomach. 

"Come on it's time."

You push him until he rolls, almost tumbling from the edge of the bed. His hands shoot out to grab your arms before he can fall but he in only succeeds in pulling you on top of him with a big thud. He groans out as your elbow lands in his stomach but you can't stop yourself giggling just a little.

"Guess you're definitely awake now..."

"Still don't want to talk about it," He pouts, sitting up with you in his lap "Can't I live in a world where you haven't turned down my proposal just a little bit longer?"

You choke a little on your saliva. It had been in the back of your mind how much you must've been upsetting Taehyung, but your own flight or fight response had been suppressing the thought. You force the bad feeling back down into your stomach and get to your feet, offering him a hand up.

"Why would I say no?"

"I don't know, the giant panic attack immediately after I asked you didn't seem like the most reassuring sign,"

"But I'm... We... are not about to lose you. Of course, I will marry you Taehyung-ah,"

His face lights up with barely contained-excitement, and the two of you sit on the edge of the bed

"Really? I don't want you to do this just because you think you need to, I'm sure we will manage. Maybe my wife would be open to affairs?"

Even when he is making light of the situation his eyes betray him. They skip around your forehead instead of meeting your gaze head-on like he usually would. 

 "Well if that's something you'd like then perhaps I should let you marry her, I'm not sure how comfortable I would be knowing my husband would so openly plan an affair," You sigh dramatically, falling back on to the mattress. 

He follows you down, crowding over you with a hand on either side of your head. 

"Not even just little affairs? Perhaps with an adorable redhead, or an overly anxious bunny?" He pouts.

"What if I want you to be just mine? What if I'm a horribly controlling wife who never lets you leave our house? Or what if I insist we move in with your father, he seems like such a wonderful man," 

With each teasing remark, Taehyung mocks offence, and your stomach untwists just a little bit, but it's enough.

"I have a feeling there will be some very surly hybrids around if you suddenly sequestered the two of us away, and I have no idea which one of us being missing they would be angrier about... although I have a feeling it would be your absence with the edge."

He leans in and pecks your lips and you wrap a hand around his neck to keep him in place as you deepen the kiss.  The horrible feeling isn't quite gone, but you realise he is right, no one in this house is going to let you be hidden away ever again. And that realisation has you wanting to show your appreciation for how much they all seem to care about you. 

Taehyung's lips trail along your jawline, hot open-mouthed kisses left in their wake. He pauses at the base of your neck.

"Before I continue, just tell me you're sure, one more time... Will you marry me?" He asks

"Yes, I will marry you," You say with far more confidence than you feel.

Then there's no more hesitation as Taehyung makes quick work of both of your clothes. You manage to push yourself on top, straddling across his thighs. His hand reaches up to caress your cheek.

"I love you," He murmurs.

"I should hope so..." You chuckle, lowering yourself forward.

"I hope you know that I'd want to marry you even without my father's influence," He says brushing a hair away from your face. 

You don't answer him, a lump suddenly in your throat. You switch directions instead, shuffling down the bed until his hand falls to the mattress and your mouth lines up with his half-hard cock. You start gently, teasing him with flicks of your tongue to the slit as your hand wraps around the base, squeezing ever so slightly. His toes curl in anticipation, as your hot breath ghosts across the cooling saliva you leave behind. 

You flick your eyes up to meet his just as you take the full tip between your lips, you take him down further than you should for a first pass, your teeth barely scraping the shift as he twitches in a way you don't preempt, he groans but doesn't complain, pleasure flooding his features in place of pain. His hand wraps into your hair keeping you in place just below the head until his features unscrunch.

"Has anyone ever told you, you're too good at that?" His voice comes shakily.

You pull up as he lets you,

"I think you might be just too easy if that's all it takes," 

You raise an eyebrow at him but he just waves his hand as a silent plea to continue, so you do. The hand on your head controls the speed as his other fist into the sheets making a real mess of Jin's new silk bedding. 

With him setting the rhythm you place your hands on his thighs to both steady yourself and prevent him from thrusting upwards unexpectedly. Considering his near accident at the beginning, your jaw begins to ache before Taehyung shows any sign of actually cumming, even so, you're surprised when he pulls you back away from him.

"Everything okay?" You ask, rubbing at your jawline in what you hope is a subtle way

"I don't want to cum before I see you riding me," He practically whines. 

His hand make grabby motions to signal you back up until you are face to face once more. This version of Taehyung is a mess, he is pouty, his lips red and bitten, his hair is a mess from being rubbed against the pillow, and there are tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He looks beautiful. Not that his normal controlled image isn't stunning, but this was something else, and it left you wondering how often he let people see him like this. 

Clearly, you've paused to watch him for too long as he lets out a whispered plea for you to continue. Looking at him now you aren't sure how anyone would ever say no to him. Then you realise that perhaps few people ever had...

His hand wraps around himself to provide a guide as you lower yourself down onto him. Barely prepared, you clench your teeth and release a hiss of air until you manage to reach the base, settling nicely on his hips.

His hand wraps around your neck pulling you into a kiss. You grind back and forth as the kiss gets deeper, rubbing your clit against him in a futile attempt to achieve satisfying friction. His arm snakes between the two of you in the limited space, fingers reaching out to provide the much-needed stimulation. For a moment you forget that you're supposed to be riding him, instead allowing yourself to get lost in feeling so full. You sit back up allowing him a better angle to pleasure you.

Your hands find purchase on his thighs behind you as you rock back and forth into his hand. Taehyung demonstrates no complaints as you take what you need from him, watching you closely as you lose yourself in the pleasure of him.

Your orgasm builds slowly but surely as you clench around Taehyung's cock still buried deep inside. His fingers fall back to the sheets as he groans through the new tightness surrounding him. 

"I really need you to start moving Y/N" He half growls, but it fades away into a whine as you do what he asks.

You ride out your over-sensitivity, only mourning the loss of his fingers slightly as you return to your previous mission of appreciation.

 You ride him as fast as your shaking legs will allow you to. His hands trail along your thighs until they find purchase on your hips, his finger pressing in, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he helps you to keep going. His hips meet yours, becoming sloppier with each thrust until he reaches his end. One final push and he releases inside, fingers crushing into your hips as he holds on. 

You lower yourself next to him, careful to make sure he stays inside of you, not prepared to deal with Jin's wrath at the mess letting go would create.

"I think we should take another nap," Taehyung suggests, his cocky and casual persona reappearing.

"Personally I was thinking a shower was in order," You complain, motioning at the glistening sweat along your torsos. 

Next

Masterlist

Soz fam...... I lost all motivation plus I'm hella busy at work in June and July so this took a back burner. I won't promise that I'm not gonna dip for 2 months again, but i hope not

I hope the smut makes up for the absence... What do you think will befall our wonderful eight as they tell Taehyung's family and the wedding approaches?

[finalgilmoregirl]

☆ random thoughts about what i think being in a relationship with mike would be like :

a/n : no gender specified, no y/n + no mentions of the actual movie plot

he’s actually pretty quick to open up after the first couple of dates. i think he would want you to know his situation as soon as possible and understand what you might be getting yourself into if the relationship has any chance of becoming long term.

he also does it for abby’s sake, he doesn’t want you to meet her and accidentally say the wrong thing, or be surprised by their situation so much that you get scared off, leaving poor abby confused.

likes watching horror movies, but only over the top, borderline goofy ones (i.e. nightmare on elm street, child’s play, gremlins, signs). he gets fidgety and even anxious during any where the antagonist is human, some might hit a bit too close to home.

cheesy low budget slashers have a pass. the acting is bad enough and the plot is predictable enough to keep him entertained but not lead him to spiral. those and again, goofy ones are when he pulls out the “here, i’ll protect you” move about fifteen minutes in, of course just wanting an excuse to hold you.

he’s the worst at grocery shopping. he always goes when he’s hungry which leads to too many snacks and frozen meals. and as much as you love the convenience, you know he and abby can’t live like this. which leads to you pushing the cart around while he holds the list you made and grumbles things like “when are we even going to eat rice?” and “i don’t need all of these vegetables, they’re just going to go bad.”

in the end, he’s grateful. and abby is too now that you introduced them to the world of easy to make side dishes.

stealing his clothes duh!! he could groan about how he’d been looking for that hoodie or his sweatpants and sometimes even socks (yes even the ones with the holes in them) but at the end of the day he’ll allow it because he loves the way his clothes look on you, and you love smelling like him.

like i mentioned earlier, he lives for touch. it’s something he didn’t know he was missing until he met you. then it’s all he wants when he’s around you. it can be you running a hand through his hair, or him pulling your back into his chest with an arm around your shoulder.

he loves forehead touching. he loves it when you do it as a way to cheer him up, making a silly face, causing him to pull away and giggle into your neck. he loves it on late nights where he’s just woken up from another bad dream and you do it to calm him down, allowing him to match his breath with yours. he loves it after a moment of passion, and as he stares into your eyes all he sees staring back is pure adoration. it’s the intimacy in the close proximity that he never gets tired of.

he has a temper but it’s hard to blame him. it comes from a place of anxiety, where any high stress situation causes a fight or flight response in him. he hates it about himself, and even after you forgive him after an argument for snapping at you or abby or for shutting you out at a time when he shouldn’t, he still kicks himself for it.

abby usually taking your side in debates just to spite her brother. even if its about something she has no knowledge about, you're in the right! which usually leads to mike jokingly mumbling about how much she likes you more than him.

finally, date nights!!! and as much as mike likes the idea of going out for drinks or for dinner and a movie, he and his wallet favor a more intimate night in at his home. these kinds of dates are few and far between, since its hard for mike to find someone he trusts enough to send abby away with. but on the rare chance that she gets invited to a friends slumber party just a block over, he takes it and spends the night drinking and laughing with you over a plate of your guys' favorite take out orders.

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

hope you enjoyed! ☆ requests are open btw

[deathmetalunicorn1]

hey there, how have you beeeeen? I hope the sickness has gotten better or that you are back in full health :[

part two of teen!reader that needs to hide a body but this time, it is for real. she had fake blood in her room for a project or something and one day she does come home after actually killing somebody, then asks for help lmao i would especially love to see odin, hades and poseidon's reactions to a corpse by their little angle.

-When the front door slammed open then closed, several of your family members were ready to scold you, as they’ve told you not to slam the door.

-Their voices were caught as you ran in, covered in blood and dirt, looking completely panicked, “I need help hiding a body- for reals this time!!”

-A few thought that you were pranking them again, they were still a bit salty about your prank the last time, and they knew you had more fake blood in your room, for an art project.

-Hades was going to grin, to tease you, before he inhaled, smelling the scent of iron- the scent of real blood.

-He stood slowly, looking a little panicked as he touched your shoulder where some of the blood was, looking at his hand before he inhaled sharply, “This is real- Y/N WHAT HAPPENED?!”

-Hearing Hades’ words, hearing that this wasn’t a prank this time…. PANIC!!!!!!!!

-You were trying not to cry, as you told them of a bully at school who had been escalating with his actions towards you, and he tried to assault you in the bathroom, pulling you in after school.

-You had run, trying to get away, rushing into the nearby forest to hide but he kept close, wanting to catch you to finish the job. When he tackled you into the mud, you swung back, using the fighting training your family had instilled in you.

-You were panicking, in a flight or fight response, and as he grabbed you again, you went into fight, grabbed a rock, and beat him to death with it.

-Adam was on the phone with the police, calling them while Eve and Odin were trying to calm you down, and Hades and Poseidon headed to the school, both looking murderous as the police was going there, the forest, and here.

-You wound up not getting into trouble, as the security cameras had caught the attempted assault, you acted in self-defense. The school tried to get you into trouble for fighting, but Odin showed his rare scary side for once- you were clinging to Thor as Odin was shouting so loudly, telling them that you had been going to them about the bullying, but they had done nothing to investigate or protect you, and then this happened, and you had no choice but to fight back.

-You were pretty shaken up, staying home from school, being able to attend online, but your family knew that you were fragile- you just killed a guy.

-The only thing you did get in trouble for was your reaction, about hiding the body, but some, like Leonidas and Lu Bu thought it was rather funny, which got them into trouble.

-Perhaps some of their ‘lessons’ on what to do in certain situations needed to be revised to avoid other situations where you might react in a way that you were taught was just meant to be funny.

[gtsdreamer2]

*creeeaack* "EEP!" *click*

"I can't believe we can't get Lulu out of this thing. Szasmara was stuck in one of these three weeks ago, and all it took was Brogan playing on her breeding kink and five minutes of rubbing." Gridley pressed his fingers to his temples and cursed under breath as Szas's face reddened.

"Well Szas is easy." Brogan half joked, adding to her embarrassment. "Even after all our healing...'sessions', I don't think Lu's ever come close to getting off from it. Not even once." As he worked his thick fingers around the opening of the chest, his frustration was a clear indicator that he wasn't getting the results he expected. "Come on Lulu, just let us get you out of there!" A mumbling whine could be heard from inside the incubox and Brogan put his ear up to the keyhole.

"If you're trying to listen to what her lips are saying, that's the wrong pair, but please, keep making a fool of yourself." Szas teased. "She can't speak out of her cunt." She moved him out of the way and got down on her knees, putting her ear up to the side of the box and knocking. "Lu, sweetie, say it again."

"I need my mommy!" Luciet cried out from inside her prison. She clearly sounded very distressed and scared.

"She said she needs her mommy?" The sorceress reported back to her party, standing up and dusting herself off.

"I don't know who her mommy is, so that's not very helpful." Gridley replied. "Maybe she has her 'mommy' registered as a next of kin with the guild. Szas, can you open a channel with them so we can ask?

"Of course."

"Hello, is this Faldha? Can you see and hear us?" Brogan could see the woman through the portal clearly. This was the woman that the guild gave them information for. Luciet's only contact.

"Yes, this is she. Who are you to contact me?" Faldha was the same barbarian class as the tall, thick half-orc who was addressing her, but her size was even larger than his. Clearly she was a mixed breed of some larger race and her equipment put her a good few levels above Lu's current party.

"Well," Gridley stepped in "We're Luciet's party, and, well..."

"Speak up. What?" Faldha had a habit of using her intimidation skill in normal conversation and this sent an immediate fight or flight response though the party on the other end of the connection.

"Right. Szas chimed in, pushing Gridley out of the way. "She's stuck in an incubox and we can't get her out. Nothing we have tried is working and she's been begging... well she's been being for her mommy...?" Szas's face grew red again as she uttered the words to this hulk of a woman that was clearly not biologically related to their party member. Faldha let out a relieved sigh.

"Show me the box. Put my portal as close a you can to where you think her ears are."

"Don't you think that you need to be here to get her out?" Gridley asked skeptically.

"No. I don't think it'll come to that."

"Lu, we've brought her." Szasmara said sweetly. "She said she's going to get you out of there." The sorceress adeptly maneuvered the portal right up to the side of the chest where the winning was loudest.

"Hi bunny." Faldha's low, grizzled tone reverberated through the box and found Lu's ear crystal clear. Immediately her whining stopped and she let out an "eep!" at the sound of her mommy's voice. The chest immediately stirred in response and let out a growl. "Your friends called me and told me you got stuck in here. Were you being careless and trying to loot on your own again? Silly stupid girl. I've told you that it's dangerous to wander off alone." A different kind of whimpering could be heard coming from the box now as Luciet was beginning to feel arousal from her lover's voice. This was only amplified by her situation and the active humiliation that she was being put through. The little trapped cleric pressed her smooth slit against the keyhole as her juices began to flow out from the opening. The cold metal couldn't even begin to fight off the heat that was emanating from her.

"Now I know that you know I'm a very busy woman. And I know that you know that I'm the only person in the whole wide world that could possibly get you out of here. I also know that you don't want me to have to come down here in person to get you out because you know what I would do to you if you made me take any more time out of my busy day to be here. You should feel both ashamed and grateful that you even get to be graced by the sound of my voice right now. Isn't that right, Lulu?" She could hear a small, embarrassed "mhm" come from deep in the box. "What was that?"

"Yes mommy! Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to be here and help your silly dumb bunny who's stuck in this box because she was bad and stupid and curious!" Her whole body grew hot whenever her domme made her speak up for herself in a demeaning way. She was so worked up at this point and full of shame and lust that the box was having a hard time containing it all. Her juices now freely flowing were pooling on the floor for her whole party to see.

"Gods, you really are easy for me, aren't you bunny? I bet I could make you gush for me with just one little touch right now."

"Mmmph! yes mommy. I want that." Luciet began to wildly undulate against the keyhole in some fruitless attempt to gain some additional feeling of pleasure. As her wet cunt pressed against the opening over and over, a loud squelching sound echoed throughout the dungeon.

"I already said that you don't want me to have to come down there and physically get you out. It sounds like you're so so close just from my voice. You can be a good bunny and cum for mommy, can't you? Don't you want to show your little friends how good and obedient you are?"

"Yes yes yes mommy. I'm a good girl. I'll show you! I'll...I'll...! Mmm!" As Luciet lost control and gave into orgasm, her sopping pussy began to gush and squirt out the opening of the chest as the room filled with her the pheromones of her succubus half. Immediately, her lust began to spread through her comrades before the chest finally popped open and she tumbled out. She was naked from having her clothing dissolved by the mimic. Her body was slick with her own sweat and the box's saliva. She sat with her warm tush pressed against the cold wet floor of the dungeon in a total haze. She had been edged and denied by her lover for longer than she could remember, but now she was so overstimulated just from words alone and her euphoria was almost palpable in the air.

Basking in her afterglow, her succubus blood began to boil over as her party started to suffocate in the thick miasma of her pheromones. This was different than when she would pleasure them to relive them of their injuries. This was an unholy side of her that only surfaced when she selfishly put her pleasure above that of others. Faldha watched as Luciet began to undergo a change.

"This is why I don't let you cum except on very rare and special, contained occasions, bunny. Just look at you." Luciet's Tiffany blue eyes lit up and scanned her party. She was pleased with how badly they were lusting after her naked form. Her body took in their stares and their hunger for her flesh. Her appearance began to take after her father as her horns and dark blue wings grew in. Her breasts plumped larger and her nipples grew erect to maximize her appeal and womanly charms. Lost in her own arousal, Luciet began to groan and grunt and grasp towards her fellow adventurers, who, entranced by her, began to slowly move towards her.

"That's quite enough!" Faldja bellowed, loud and assertive with her intimidation skill in full effect. Like a sun piercing the clouds, the haze of the succubus's miasma was immediately burned away, and the whole party snapped back to their senses. Luciet's horns and wings retreated back into her while her breats shrank down to their normal petite size. "I won't have my girl throwing herself at her friends for any lascivious reasons. You've made pacts and vows specifically against that."

Lu was finally coming back down from her high. "Yes mommy. S-sorry mommy." She mumbled, her face bright red as she realized she was sitting naked in a pool of her own juices in front of her team. Szasmara reached out a hand to help her up.

"Don't worry." She said, softly and full of warmth. "I've got some extra clothes, and we can ask pretend like this never happened."

"Ya, until she gets stuck again and starts crying for mommy!" Brogan laughed. Lu turned and even brighter shade of red as Faldha quickly stepped through the portal which closed behind her.

Cracking her knuckles loud enough for the whole dungeon to hear, Brogan turned around to find the source of the noise only to catch her fist right in his jaw. He flew across the room and landed hard on his ass. "No one makes fun of my bunny but me." She said sternly, throwing Lu over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes. "Let's go home, Lulu."

"Yes mommy."

[masterjedilenawrites]

Broken Wings - Part Two

What's this? A second chapter one year after the first? More fic writing from me in the same week? Idk guys, I'm just riding the motivation wave as far as it'll take me...

Thrawn x pilot!reader | 2.5k words

Content warnings: Cursing, only a little Thrawn/reader interaction (slow burn anyone?), also I gave the reader tattoos for funsies

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Hangar 12 was massive. Not even the largest rebel hideout could equal this space you found yourself in. TIE fighters hung from their docks in the ceiling while larger transport ships were lined neatly along the slick floors. And there was still plenty of room to spare. Room to reconfigure the ships in a thousand different formations and never run the risk of them crashing into each other.

Thus, the set up of a little podium and rows of chairs in the middle of the hangar was comical. It looked like furniture for a dollhouse. The pilots milling around the chairs seemed tiny, too, the details of their faces and flight suits barely remarkable when compared to the expanse of metal and space surrounding them.

You stood by one of the entrances to the hangar, having just emerged from a hallway into the location you were instructed to be in this fine morning. Well, a biological morning, anyway. Here there were no suns, no atmospheric skies with clouds or stars, no indications of whether you should be awake or at rest. Here, time did not exist. The viewport at the end of the hangar boasted of a vast outer space, likely deep within the Empire's control, far from the places you were used to. And yet, it still stirred that itch within you, the desire to go into it. To explore. To fly.

"Oh good, you've made it."

A flash of blue and white appeared in your periphery. You quickly closed your eyes, as if by not seeing him, he couldn't see you in return. You'd been dreading this moment, but your damned curiosity compelled you to show up anyway.

"I will introduce you to your squadron," Thrawn spoke to you anyway, not commenting on your lame attempt to hide from the situation. "They are among the Empire's best pilots, though still not close to your level of expertise. For now you will set the standards for their training, help them understand what is required. But I expect to see intensive training within the cockpit soon."

There was a pause before he spoke again, one simple, inquiring word. "Captain?"

You opened your eyes. Everything from before was still there: the ships, the tiny pilots, the viewport into darkness. But now added to the view was the imposing form of the Grand Admiral, looking down at you with those piercing red eyes, waiting for you to agree to being on board.

"I didn't realize titles transferred across war lines," you said in response.

Thrawn did not seem phased by the venom you put behind your words. Or perhaps you hadn't put in enough for him detect. You weren't exactly in pique form at the moment, your body still feeling like it'd been wrung through a trash compactor a few times. The rest and rehab you'd received the day before was far from rejuvenating your fighting spirit.

"The goal is to have you become Flight Commander for the squadron. But we'll retain your title of Captain for now, until you prove yourself. Even if it creates more paperwork for my staff."

He nodded slightly behind you and you turned to find a few officers standing nearby.

"This is Officer Amara Tilde, the fleet's logistics liaison. And Sergeant Lou Mam, from the Chimaera's tactical division. They'll be overseeing the training and provide assistance where needed."

While you were arguing against the small voice in your head that sounded strangely like your mother's, telling you to be polite and smile or nod at the two in acknowledgement, Thrawn continued.

"But for all intents and purposes, the squadron will report to you. As their leader."

"Like it or not," you heard Sergeant Mam mutter under his breath.

If Thrawn also heard, he ignored it, instead turning to indicate he was ready to proceed with this grand plan of his. "If you are ready, Captain, we'll begin."

"And if I'm not ready?" you couldn't help but ask.

One corner of Thrawn's mouth twitched upward. "Then you'll have roughly a hundred meters to gear yourself up, Captain."

And with that, he set off, striding confidently into that dark and massive hangar, his staff members falling in to flank him on either side. You found your feet guiding you to follow along, making you ponder with each step what you were doing here and how you could possibly get free.

"At attention!" called out Sergeant Mam as they approached the group of pilots.

There was a rustle of boots, with a small squeak or two, as the pilots hurried into proper standing positions in front of their chairs. Thrawn and his two officers strode past them toward the podium, but you chose to hang back just behind, out of view. For one, you were still in denial and any little thing you could do to delay the inevitable, be it closing your eyes or pausing in your steps, you would shamelessly do. But for another, that short trek from the door to the middle of the hangar already had you beat. Your body had not fully healed from your crash just a few days ago, and what little rehab you'd done so far to gain mobility back did not prepare you even for a walk. Your body felt flushed, heated, and you were pathetically out of breath.

"At ease," the Sergeant stated as he took his place behind the podium. Thrawn and the other officer stood off to the side, the former giving you a questioning look that you didn't know how to answer from this distance.

The pilots relaxed into their chairs at the command.

"As you all know, you have been selected as the top graduates from the Academy to serve in this special training unit aboard the ISD Chimaera...."

As the Sergeant spoke, you couldn't help but unzip the top of your flight suit and shake at the fabric a bit, trying to get a breeze onto your sweating skin.

"Training?" one of the pilots interrupted, apparently interpreting the at ease command a little too loosely. "We were told Special Forces Unit."

"Indeed, you will become a force to be reckoned with. But first we must train you to get there."

There were grumbles and whispers but you weren't focusing too much on the scene. You still felt too hot. Confined. Trapped. Screw it, you thought, and pulled the zipper all the way down and shimmied out of the sleeves. The top of your suit now hung at your waist, leaving your top half in only a black tank top. Your tattoos would be showing now, as well as the many bruises and barely-scarred wounds you'd recently sustained. Even amongst the rebel forces you'd be considered indecent. But at least you now felt just a little freer.

"With all due respect, sir," another pilot spoke up, "we already received our training, at the Academy."

"Yeah," a third chimed in. "We're enlisted soldiers now. Not cadets."

"And not only that, we're the best," said another. "You said it yourself. Top of our class. What else could we possibly have to learn?"

You couldn't see their faces but you could hear their smirks. Oh, these were cocky SOBs. Something stirred in you at their behavior, very similar to the feeling you got whenever you looked up at the sky or out the viewport into space. In fact, one could argue the two feelings often went hand-in-hand. You had an insatiable desire to fly, yes, but also to prove others wrong. These smug pilots, fresh from the Academy, with their clean suits and fresh haircuts, thought they were on top of the world. But they didn't know what it was like to be in an active war zone. To feel pressure in the cockpit. To be faced with impossible decisions. They had a lot left to learn.

Thrawn chose this moment to step forward, and the murmuring of the crowd quieted down.

"The Academy has prepared you well enough," Thrawn addressed them with that quiet confidence you'd already grown used to. "But we can no longer afford to settle for only enough. The Rebels are growing in their strength and number, and most importantly, in their skill. Do you know who the best fighter pilot is at the moment?"

There was a silence as the pilots looked around to each other. One happened to catch you from the corner of his eye. He frowned in confusion at your presence before turning back around.

"A Captain in the Rebel forces," Thrawn answered his own question, following it up with your name. There was murmuring as some seemed to recognize the name. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered that your reputation preceded you.

"Can any of you confidently say you are better than her?" Thrawn threw out another question but this time didn't wait for a potential response. "No. You are not the best. But, you can be trained by the best. And then there may be hope for the Empire yet."

The pilot who'd noticed you before swung back around to look at you, starting to piece two and two together. You figured this was about as good a time as any to finally push yourself forward.

The whispers returned as you came into view, shuffling amongst seats to get a better look at your disheveled appearance. Or perhaps just your presence in and of itself. They were in as much disbelief as you were over the situation.

One pilot was a little slower than the others and called out, "Who the hell is this?"

Thrawn cooly responded, "The best," before stepping back to give you room.

You took in a deep breath, mostly to get your panting under control, and a little to calm the nerves. You were surrounded by enemies, you reminded yourself. These pilots meant nothing to you. You had nothing to prove to them.

And yet, the itching inside continued.

"Is this a joke?" You recognized the voice as the first pilot who had spoken up. He was a handsome guy, round face and clear skin. His smirk was as mischievous as you'd pictured it earlier.

"I wish it were," you said, hating how your voice betrayed your physical exhaustion.

The pilot didn't seem to know how to respond to that, so the one sitting next to him spoke up instead.

"So you're telling me this Rebel twat knows more about flying than we do?" She seemed to be questioning one of the officers or Thrawn himself, but her eyes were fixed on you.

"There's no need to be vulgar, Heva," the one who'd noticed you earlier spoke up, albeit in a soft tone. "She is the best..."

"For a Rebel," Heva scoffed, settling back in her seat with arms crossed. "Which isn't saying much, now, is it?"

You desperately wanted to scratch the itch, to put these MF-ers in their place, but you'd need to pace yourself. Battles weren't won in a day, as you unfortunately knew firsthand.

"Test me," you said, straightening up a little.

This earned you a mix of snorts and incredulous smirks.

"Alright," Heva sniffed. "How do you reprogram a misaligned targeting system mid-flight? Smoke is coming from the underside of a TIE starfighter cockpit, what has been damaged? Do you use concussion missiles or proton torpedoes against a particle shield?"

You noted her questions were specific to Imperial tech, things you would likely not know about. But even if you did, they were hardly the most important things to be quizzed on, so you didn't feel particularly demeaned like she probably hoped.

You hummed. "I confess, I don't know."

Heva wore a self-satisfied grin while a few snickered around her.

"Now let me ask you something," you continued, not letting them enjoy their petty victory for long. "You're flanked between two enemy crafts and no wiggle room on either side. Ahead is a building, or some other obstacle, where impact would be fatal. What do you do?"

Some of the pilots seemed to be considering the question while others, like Heva and the pretty boy next to her, were more reluctant to play along.

"How far away?" asked the soft-spoken one.

You looked out across the hangar. "Let's say... from here to the viewport. A hundred meters?"

"Wait them out" said the pretty pilot, and it was then you noticed he had some chewing gum in his mouth, further accentuating his blasé attitude. "The enemy craft won't risk a collision either. As soon as they peel off, you follow."

"They're Rebels," you pointed out. "Some of the crazier ones. Flyers who know how to bank last minute and won't let you breathe for an inch. You can wait to bank with them, but if you're even a hair's length out of sync, you'll collide."

"Pull up sooner," someone shouted out.

"Collision," you asserted. "They're flanking, not mirroring. You won't fall far enough back before they do, too."

"Alright then, Best Pilot in the Galaxy," sneered Heva. "What do you do? Or are you trying to use a trick question to make yourself sound smarter?"

You took in a measured breath to maintain your composure. "You drop. Kill the engine, drop a few meters, fire it back up in time to bank."

There were even more scoffs and snorts than before.

"That's not... you can't..." the soft-spoken pilot's face was screwed up in deep thought, trying to make sense of your outlandish idea. "I mean, the physics of it alone... How could you even calculate the timing of it?"

"A situation like that, there's no calculating," you agreed. "There's no recalling a classroom lesson or reciting a manual. There's only feeling."

You hadn't exactly held their respect before, but now you'd really lost them. You were preaching about feelings, to a crowd who didn't think they needed to be taught anything in the first place. The looks on their faces, the not-so-polite words they were sputtering at a not-so-subtle volume, were proof they found you ridiculous.

You risked a glance back at Thrawn, whose expression was deadpan and gave away nothing of how he perceived this whole exchange. Not that you needed his approval. But he'd staked a lot in this plan of having a captured Rebel pilot teach an Imperial squadron; you were nervous about the consequences of failing him.

Your gaze shifted from his apathetic eyes to a starship just behind him. A TIE Interceptor by the looks of it. There wasn't much you envied about the Empire, save for this one vessel. The itching intensified; you were practically chomping at the bit now that the idea popped into your mind. A way to kill two birds with one stone.

You steeled yourself with another breath and turned back to face your disgruntled audience.

"...it's just not possible," someone was saying.

"It is possible." You raised your voice to be heard over their ruckus. Whatever fatigue your body had been suffering was now muted as adrenaline began to ramp up inside you. "I've done it before."

This hushed them up a bit, though skepticism was still written across their features. You couldn't help but grin in response.

"Would you like me to do it again?"

~ ~ ~

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Puppet on a String Chp.5 (Fives x Reader)

Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Necrosis

cw: Fives x Reader, Reader is a medical practitioner, angst, swearing, anti-jedi sentiment, Death mentioned, violence, Medical abuse, Medical talk, seizures and neurological symptoms, Nala Se being cruel

Tag list (THANK YOU): @spicydonut25 @notgonnaedit @amazonian-bae @tentakelspektakel

The ship ride to Ringo Vinda was stressful. To pass the time and keep yourself busy, you counted the supplies in the pack you had brought.

Tup killed a Jedi…

How? Why? This was Tup. Sweet, shy and honest Tup! He’d never kill a Jedi without reason!

The transport landed in The Resolute hangar. As soon as the doors opened, you were greeted by Fives and General Skywalker. 

“Doctor,” the General offered his hand and you shook it in greeting, “I’m glad that you’re here.” 

“I’m glad Fives called.” You responded, walking in between both men, “What's the situation?”

You were informed of the disaster of Ringo Vinda. Jedi Tiplar was shot point blank by Tup. Ever since the trooper had been in and out of it, only repeating one phrase.

Good soldiers follow orders. 

To make matters more confusing, the Seppies had kidnapped Tup as well. He had only just been rescued but his health was at a steady decline. The 501st doctor was trying their best to keep him alive, but they were overwhelmed with the amount of injured and dead from the defeat on Ringo Vinda. 

Fives called you for help. And based on everything you heard, and the chaos of the ship, he made a good decision. 

You were led to the transport ship where Tup was loaded. They were preparing for a second attempt to Kamino. The clone trooper was restrained, and an oxygen mask was fixed over his face.

Immediately you snapped into gear. 

“Let me see his latest scans,” you commanded, going to Tup’s side. Your fingers pulled a pen with a light and clicked it on. Lifting one of the troopers eyelids you shone the light and flicked it away. You repeated the small test with his other eyes and pulled back, “Pupils are fixed and dilated.” you announced, standing straight. 

Traumatic brain injury. 

Neurological problems made sense given the symptoms. But what part of the brain could have been injured….?

The anomaly. 

Kix, a medic you’ve met before, handed you a datapad. Your eyes roamed the screen, unhappy at the lack of actual data. Where was that lesion the 501st doctor sent you months ago?!

“There's nothing here.” you stated, looking up, “I’ve gotten scans before. From your field surgeon.”

“The umbaran scanner,” Kix perked up, confused, “We still have it but-.”

“Get it,” your tone was sharp, “And we need to get to Kamino as fast as possible.” He needed intense surgery if this was as bad as you thought. 

It was less than 2 minutes later when you had the scanner and used it.

The data had your body in fight or flight. It was worse than you thought.

Glutamate: 20um (Alert Too Low)

Gamma-aminobutyric acid: 45.89 umol/L (Alert Too High)

Synaptic response time: 15ms (Alert Too Low)

You swallowed, eyes going wide, “We need to go, now!”

“Mesh’la?” Fives asked, sitting down on the ship as it hummed to life. Captain Rex remained silent, deciding to stay with Tup after the Separatist attack. However, his head was turned to you, waiting for an explanation.

“Total neurological failure,” Your response was full of dread. You tapped the screen, focusing on the anomaly. The news only got worse.

Alert: Necrosis right orbital floor, parietal and temporal intersection

“His brain is necrotic.” 

Just as you spoke, Tup seized. His body convulsed, spasming violently. 

“Tup!” Fives yelped, dashing to the side of the hover stretcher.

Immediately you ripped off the restraints, and flipped the clone trooper on his side. Your hands held him down just enough to keep him steady as he thrashed and twitched. Mentally, you counted the seconds, needing to keep track until he stilled.

3 minutes and 26 seconds.

“How many seizures has he had before this one?” You looked up at your lover.

You were met with a shake of his head. When you looked to Rex, he also gave the same response. 

Damnit. You mentally swore, Working with almost nothing.

The neurological issues couldn’t be dealt with here. So you switched your methods to life support. Using the supplies you had, which wasn’t enough, you slowed the breaking down of his neural tissue as much as you could. You could buy him time. That's what matters. 

“Mesh’la?” Fives spoke up, “What…do you think is the cause of this?”

You shook your head, “Without the umbaran scanner I’d assume virus or bacteria. Hell, maybe even prions or parasites.” Your eyes glanced over at the data on the tablet, “But…based on what I’ve seen, this is a genetic issue. Caused by a specific area in the brain.”

Captain Rex perked up, “Could this happen to anyone else?” 

You shrugged, “possibly? Even though you're clones, you're only identical with your base DNA. Since the Kaminoans have been stretching genetic material by adding different genes to fill in the gaps, it could be unique to Tup.”

It's been brought up during the ethics committee meetings. Since Jango Fett had been killed, the genetic material for the clones was in limited supply. So the Kaminoans had to find ways to make it last. 

You once tried to argue that since they weren’t exact genetic copies, the definition of clones no longer fit. Nala Se had shot you down and practically called you an idiot when you suggested that the troopers weren’t clones but children of Jango Fett. 

With a sigh, you gently pet Tup’s head. You’ve pulled his hair out of its tight bun, to at the very least help him feel more comfortable. 

Thankfully, he was stable for the rest of the travel to Kamino. As soon as the ship landed, you were rushing him down the ramp. Thunder crackled overhead and the downpour was brutal, but you didn’t care.

Your patient needed you. Tup needed you.

Some troopers in gray and white surrounded you as soon as you got inside. and in your panic you tried to shove one of them away. 

“Easy, Doctor.” Shaak Ti’s voice caused you to look up. Next to the beautiful togruta was Nala Se.

“General, Doctor,” you greeted the both of them, though you were breathless, “Tup’s brain is necrotic. I need to-”

“You must calm down.” the Jedi stepped forward, putting a hand on your shoulder. She pulled you away and let the Kaminoan take Tup.

Fives and Rex were behind you, “No, you don’t understand. His brain is literally failing him.” You desperately tried to explain, “I think I know what's causing it, there's a…anomaly. A tumor or lesion that's in his brain.”

She looked at you in interest, “You’ve already been looking for the cause of this?” 

“Here, General.” Fives handed the umbaran scanner to her, “It's an umbaran scanner. The field surgeon of the 501st had-”

“We will run our own tests,” Nala Se called back, head snapping to stare at him, “We don’t need to use unreliable, primitive technology.” The Kaminoans stare was empty and cold, “The most likely cause of this is a virus.” she reached and snatched the tablet out of Fives’ hands.

“But-”

“Do not worry,” Shaak Ti tried to calm the both of you, “Doctor Nala Se is the Chief Medical Scientist on Kamino. She was one of the primary engineers of all the clones, and she’ll know what to do. I trust her judgment.”

You swallowed, and nodded. You didn’t like Nala Se, but you’d be a fool to ignore her skill and intellect. Honestly, you could be wrong and that anomaly on the scan was just…nothing.

The Jedi continued, “Now we must take care of you.” Her words were directed at the ARC trooper, “Since you’ve served with Tup the longest.”

“Me?” Fives perked up, “There's nothing wrong with me, General. I’m perfectly fine.”

You shook your head, “Possible contamination.” Your sigh was tired, “We’ll have to do a physical exam. Possibly even a blood draw.” You explained to him with a reassuring smile. Now that Tup was in capable hands, you felt much better.

“You haven't entered the advanced stages yet, as Tup has,” Shaak Ti looked at Fives as she gave her reasons for the tests, “but any information we can gather from you could help to find a cure for Tup.”

Your lover sighed and nodded, “All right, General, If it’ll help Tup.”

The Jedi then addressed Rex, who had been silently walking behind you, “Captain Rex, General Skywalker has ordered you back to the war zone.” She stopped walking beside a door to an examination room, “You are to leave immediately.”

Rex frowned but nodded, “I’m sorry, Fives. I wish I could stay, but duty calls.”

The ARC trooper patted his friend's shoulder, “It’s fine, Sir. Fighting a virus is a nice change of pace from all those clankers.” He tried to joke, if only to make himself feel better.

The Captain put his helmet back on, “Take care of yourself... and Tup.” Without another word he nodded and turned to get back to the ship. 

You were separated from Fives. He had to be examined alone while you stayed with Tup. He was your patient, and he was your responsibility.

“Your help is not needed, Doctor.” Nala Se spoke rather coldly when you walked into the testing room where the sick clone trooper was placed. 

“He is my patient.” You answered, “And I will not abandon him now.”

The Kaminoan was about to argue, but Shaak Ti cut through first, “I see no reason the doctor cannot help in the tests.”

“Tests?” Your surprise was clear, “No, there's no need for tests. You're just wasting time. We know the most likely cause. There's necrosis-”

“We need to be certain of that.” Nala Se snapped, “Unknown, unreliable technology from a formerly enemy planet can give false information. Besides, the breaking down of his brain could be linked to a virus.”

“But-”

The Jedi stepped next to the Kaminoan, “Nala Se’s theory of a virus should be confirmed first. If we do not locate the virus and cure it, no surgery will stop the…spread.”

“General, with all due respect, I don’t believe it’s a virus.” You argued, “No virus can cause such damage in such a short amount of time. And my scans have confirmed some type of…malignancy in the brain. It's not a virus.”

“Unless it had been engineered by the Separatists.” Nala Se chimed in, large eyes not breaking away from yours, “In which case, isolating the virus to create a cure is priority. So it doesn’t spread.” 

“Well my priority is saving Tup’s life.” You slammed your hands on the table, raising your voice slightly. 

Shaak Ti acted as mediator again, “Enough,” her tone was sharp, “Nala Se, perform rapid tests, if they do not come back with an answer, the doctor shall do what they need to treat him properly.” Her lavender eyes flicked between you and your adversary, “Arguing helps no one.”

You could see out of the corner of your eye that Fives was watching you argue. He looked out of his element, and so…afraid. 

Your breath was shaky at best, “Very well. Forgive me, General.”

“Let’s begin the tests.” The Jedi announced.

Nala Se nodded, turning to the medical droid next to her, “Administer the stimulant.”

Wait, stimulant?

The droid stabbed the needle directly into Tup’s chest. 

“Wait, stimulants will-”

Nala Se cut you off, “Remove his mask.”

As soon as Tup’s flow of oxygen was cut off, he gasped. The clone trooper seized again, spasming wildly. He had been restrained, and immediately you reached to free him.

“Do not interrupt the test.” The Kaminoan commanded, “His reactions are normal.”

You snapped, “He’s seizing!”

“It is all part of the test.” She responded. 

There was a bang and you whirled around.

Fives was slamming his fists against the observation glass. His eyes were wide and he was panicked. He shouted, desperately trying to get information.

Shaak Ti raised a single hand, blacking out the window, blocking his view. 

I’m sorry, my darling. You thought, heart breaking. He must be terrified without answers.

“His reaction will subside,” Nala Se stated so coldly. She was disinterested, as if bored by Tup's suffering, “The patient must be awake for the next round of tests.”

“How is that needed!?” You snapped, “He doesn’t need to be awake to find a virus!”

“I agree.” Shaak Ti stated, “I am not fond of these hyper tests.”

The Kaminoan continued with her cruel tests, “Yes, but they do give us all the information we need in a timely fashion.” 

You approached Tup, grabbing his hand, “He’s scared.” You mumbled, “He’s scared and in pain.” 

Nala Se’s flat voice spoke up as she typed on a tablet, “There does not seem to be any sign of infection in the blood.” Her large eyes stared down, reading the information, “How curious. The subject has tested negative on all accounts.”

Tup went slack, gasping and wheezing. You squeezed his hand, hoping to let him know he wasn’t alone. “Good! No virus! Can I treat him now!?” You asked, looking to Shaak Ti for help. 

The clone trooper mumbled, breathless, “W-Why am I here..?” 

“Is he conscious?” The Jedi next to you stepped closer. 

Tup tensed, his foggy gaze zeroed in on the togruta, “Follow orders…” He croaked, beginning to thrash against his restraints, “Kill Jedi. Kill Jedi!”

“Are you finished with your tests?” Shaak Ti remained perfectly calm in the face of such stress. 

“For now.” Nala Se confirmed. 

“Sedate him.”

The medical droid turned with the sedation oxygen mask. However, you snatched it out of its metal claws, “Tup, Tup look at me.” You whispered, getting his attention. 

The trooper seemed to calm the moment you blocked his view from the General, “Orders…I need to…Follow orders…” 

“I know. You're a good soldier, Tup.” You pet his hair, “I’m going to give you oxygen, alright?” 

He swallowed, laying back fully. Once he got a few lungs full of the medicated oxygen, his eyes closed. 

The Jedi beside you hummed in thought, “It appears this clone has orders to kill a Jedi. Perhaps the Separatists found a way to brainwash him.” her gaze was on Tup, “A surgery may destroy the effects of the brainwashing, and any evidence it occurred. We need to understand it.”

“General, please…” you begged, “I have the umbaran scanner-”

“I disposed of that primitive thing.” The Kaminoan scientist responded, turning her back to you, “Such technology is nothing compared to what we have here.”

“What?!” Your shout was full of rage, “That wasn’t yours to throw away!” 

“We have better scanners here, on Kamino.”

“Oh you self-centered, long-necked, cun-!”

“Enough!” Shaak Ti’s voice sliced between the both of you like a hot knife, cutting off your very vicious insult, “This petty fight between the two of you ends, now. Nala Se, continue whatever tests you can do while he is under sedation.” She snapped, finally reaching her limit, “And you, check on Fives.”

You furrowed your brow but let out a tense sigh, “Yes, General.” Your steps rushed from the surgical room and went to where the ARC trooper was held. 

Once the door opened, Fives shot up, “Mesh’la!” 

“Please sit back down,” a small hovering medical droid ordered; however, your lover ignored the command. 

His arms wrapped around you as soon as the door was closed behind you. He pulled back to hold your face and give you a heated kiss. 

You returned his affection eagerly before you broke the kiss to speak, “Thank goodness you’re alright…Nala Se isn’t listening to me. Neither is the General.”

He tensed, “What? Why?”

“I..I don’t know. Nala Se threw away the umbaran scanner that originally found the…” Your words faded off. With a cold realization, it became clear to you. 

The umbaran scanner found the anomaly in the clone's brains originally. The scans were sent to several doctors in the Grand Republic Medical Facility. The Ethics committee was informed by Dr.Mila, that's why they left for Kamino. Then they were attacked and killed. The other deaths, the murders that ended the lives of more of your colleagues, occurred afterward. Then you were nearly killed…

At first, you thought it was the Separatist plot to make the Republic look weak. But now, you realized the true reason. Behind the death. The despair.

Everyone who died knew about the brain anomaly.

Nala Se is hiding something.

[superstaridolstart]

I'm bored and don't got ideas so Pokèmorph Au Abilities ranked based on how much it affects the users human life!

If your new here, basically the Pokèmorph au is a magical girl au where different pokemon characters gain magical warrior forms based on different pokemon.

they can have multiple forms and each form comes with an ability that doesn't have to relate to the form it came with or even exist in a real pokemon. And depending on how the ability works, it can be used in any of the Pokèmorphers forms, including human, if they do wish

Now without further due, let's discuss the ranking

How it will work is I will rank each ability on a scale of 0-5, 5 being "Very powerful even in human form" and 0 being "Can't affect human form"

Now let's get it started now! This will be in A-Z order

Arven: Guard Dog: 2-5 default Fight or Flight response is Fight and the Attack Buff will make the ensuing punch hurt more

Calem: Prankster: 0-5 Move dependent

Clair/Ethan: Multiscale 3-5 most people go generally without injury so this could be very useful in an emergency, other wise it wouldn't come up very much

Gladion: No Guard: -0.5-5 he doesn't get into fist fights in his human form, plus it would make it easier for the enemy to get the first drop on him

Grusha: Cursed Body: 0.5-5 fairly useful but very situational

Hilbert: Quick Feet: 1-5 also gets a speed boost when sick and more ways to activate it than cursed body despite it having a less useful effect, but still very situational.

Kieran: Supersweet syrup: 0-5 form dependent

Leaf: Chlorophyll: 2-5 fairly useful but weather dependent

Lucas: Torrent: 0-5 Move dependent

Marnie: Hunger Switch: 0.5-5 theoretically she could still be in hangry mode when she transforms back into human form, but only affects personality and Aura Wheel and very situational

N: Illusion: 5-5 very powerful ability, need I say anything else?

Penny: Terastal Adaptability: 0-5 form dependent

Serena: Competitive: 0-5 she can't exactly use. Psyshock in her human form so there's no real need for this ability to work in her human form

Shiftry Mask: Wind Rider: 1-5 can't glide cause no cape, but can still get an attack boost

Silver: Pressure: 2-5 can make others use more energy than necessary.

Silver, Again: Regenerator: 4-5 heals quicker than most, very useful.

Wally: Inner focus: 3-5 can't flinch or be intimidated

That's everyone! Hope you enjoyed this list, if you have questions, clarifications, or objections, my asks are open!

[thewhumpcaretaker]

♥︎ Whump Dating Sim: Longing for Flight - Part 2 ♥︎

Current Heart Level: ♡♡♡♡♡ (0/5)

Last Poll | Masterlist | Image Source

Last week, the winning answer was to kick the medical supplies towards Allister and let him patch himself up. You get two relationship points!! I think I forgot to mention this, but each heart costs five relationship points. The second response would have given one point, and the third one would have given zero points, if you're curious.

Time to pick up where we left off...

CW: passing out, hospitalization, panic attack

“Suit yourself. I won’t come any closer.” You kick the medical supplies towards him and they slide to a stop next to his lap. He looks between you and the box for a minute as if he’s expecting it to explode. Then their brows furrow in confused gratitude. “…Thank you,” he says, but it sounds more like a question. They're still holding the gun on you as they open the box with shaking hands and start looking for what they need. But at least they don’t seem quite as paranoid about your presence.

You watch him sadly. He’s not going to get much done without your help. The blood is draining out of his face. He struggles for a minute, then tips his head back against the window and curses, fighting a wave of wooziness. His gun arm is becoming too heavy. It drops to his side and he starts slumping sideways. You rush forward and catch him before his head can hit the floor. So much for his protests. But at least he felt like he was in control for a moment before passing out.

You manage to slip him out of the building without incident, carrying them down the stairwell while the next wave of guards emerges from the elevator. It’s easy enough to get them back to headquarters, but it was a close call. The medical team confirms that they were only minutes from death when you brought them in.

The first thing to do after he’s stable is embed a tracking chip under his skin, in case he escapes. He looks so innocent with his eyes closed and his flesh covered in bruises, an IV trailing from his arm. It’s difficult to believe that he’s killed almost a hundred people just from the counts your own team knows about. But the fact remains that he’s dangerous.

The wallet in his pocket contains a huge amount of cash and a fake ID that reads “Bruce Silver.” But when he finally wakes up, he gives a different first name – Allister. You tell him yours as well, and apologize for the situation that he find himself in. You also confirm what you had thought - that he goes by he/they. But they won’t give a last name no matter what you try. So you'd better just start your main line of questioning, preferably by making him feel safe enough to talk.

Tagging: @bluelolblue

Please comment, ask, etc. to be added to a tag list for updates!

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @dayoffzine! You have no idea how hard it was for me to resist the urge to just write about Logan and all of his mentees. In the end, though, somehow Kitty took over the whole fic XD

…

…

…

…

It was quiet on the moon. To be honest, it was always quiet in space, even when the Eternals lived on the moon or aliens travelled across the dark tracts. Yet it was especially quiet on the Blue Area of the moon, where Uatu the Watcher lived.

There was always something to watch, so Uatu had no need to look for entertainment. Whether it was an apocalypse, a world-domination plot, or even simple infighting amongst the heroes, Uatu had plenty to observe and note down.

Still, if he ever did have a desire to see something different, something new, it was easy enough to do so. While he primarily watched his designated Earth, Uatu could take a peek at other what-ifs, at the places beyond mere mortal’s view of time and space.

He could see, if he so desired, the same night across multiple universes. Such as a particular Halloween night…

-x-

Earth 10005

Logan had not known peace since he’d met Charles and joined the X-Men. Actually, if he were honest, and he was always as brutally honest as he could be, Logan hadn’t known peace since Alpha Flight. Or maybe it was even further than that—back to when he had been wandering the wilds of northern Canada or picking fights in bars for scraps of money.

Part of him was certain that if he ever regained his memory, his childhood would be the same. Some people were just born under an unlucky star and there were few unluckier than he was.

Still, all of those other situations were a walk in the park compared to now. Those fights would involve adults, and Logan knew how to take care of adults. He knew exactly when to walk away, when to show a claw, and when to give a beat down. It didn’t make for a great life, but it certainly made for a simple one.

Here in the Xavier Academy, however, all of his knowhow went out the window. Everything involved a kid.

Logan was not a man made for kids. He was barely a man made for adults.

Somehow, that didn’t stop kids from flocking to him. First it had been Rogue, randomly appearing in his truck like a bad penny. Then there was the trickster Kitty, who grew bolder and bolder with each passing day.

And now there was Jubilee, a punk who was standing between him and the fridge. Standing between him and his cold beer.

Today was Logan’s day off. There weren’t any strange emergencies. He had no kids to ‘teach’.

He didn’t have to put up with this bullshit. Logan growled, “Move, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Jubilee corrected, with all the authority and know-of of a 16-year-old kid. She grinned brightly. “And I won’t move until you agree.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Logran growled. He stepped forward threateningly. When she didn’t budge, he grabbed her firmly.

“Hey! What’re you—”

“You can be annoying over here,” he grumbled, setting the girl down on the other side of the fridge. Without waiting for a response, he yanked open the fridge door and riffled through the shelves for a beer.

“Rude. Why’re you always like this?” Jubilee snapped, stepping on his foot. She was lucky he wasn’t in the mood for a training bout. “No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

It was a stupid, petty insult. Logan got worse a dozen times a day from that ice kid, Bobby. What Rogue saw in the kid, he’d never understand. “That’s none of your business.”

It was a mistake to even reply. He realized it the second he grabbed his beer and closed the door. Now that he could see her face, Jubilee covered her mouth in mock horror, her eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you actually don’t have any friends?”

It was a stupid, petty argument, but something about Jubilee made him want to get into a stupid, petty fight. Maybe she was just that annoying. Or maybe he was just that tired. Either way, he extended a claw and roughly snapped off the lid of his beer, making sure she saw the whole thing. “Don’t think Xavier’ll care if he’s missing a brat.”

“It sounds like a threat when you say it.” Jubilee laughed, hitting him on the back. “Anyways, let’s hang out tonight.”

Logan’s instincts were sharp and honed carefully through his experiences. All of them screamed: this is a trap. He stepped away. “Not interested.”

“Come on, it’ll be just like the old times!” She tried again, bouncing in front of him. “Just the two of us on an adventure.”

“Adventure?” Logan wasn’t sure just what he’d ever done to give the kid the impression he was the ‘adventuring’ type, but he had to clear it up today. “Not interested. Never been interested. Go play with some kids.”

“Come onnnnn,” Jubilee whined, grabbing his free arm. She had to have been taking lessons from Kitty. He missed the days when Rogue refused to touch him. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Oh, now I’m definitely not interested.” Logan yanked his arm free and strolled out of the kitchen.

“Wow, do you know any other words or do I need to buy you a dictionary?” Jubilee rested her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. It was the stereotypical teenage look. Logan had gained immunity to such childish sarcasm after his third day here.

“Insulting me?” Logan chuckled, amused. He took a swig of his beer and wrinkled his nose. It was terrible shit again; some one had taken his shit again. “That’s a new tactic.”

“Look, I’ll leave you alone after,” Jubilee pleaded, clasping her hands as she dashed in front of him. “Promise.”

Now, this was actually new tactic.  Logan narrowed his eyes. “For how long?”

She laughed, rubbing her neck sheepishly. “Alright, got me there. An hour?”

Logan snorted. “You’re delusional. A year.”

“A year?” Jubilee flinched. Dramatically, she laid her hand on her forehead and leaned back in a mock-swoon position. “Jeez, someone’ll get the wrong idea and think you hate me. A day?”

“It’s not the wrong idea,” he barked. “A week.”

“No wonder you don’t have any friends.” She shook her head sadly. “Two days.”

It was probably the most he’d ever get out of her. If he was lucky enough that she even kept her end of the bargain. “Fine. Deal.” Logan watched her over his bottle. “Now what?”

Jubilee pulled out an eye patch from god-knows-where. “Alright, now put this on and go dress up like Patches.”

Logan flinched. The only reason he had to tolerate this kid was because she somehow knew of his stupid attempt of a disguise. A disguise he had used years ago in Hong Kong. A terrible disguise that everyone had seen through the second they’d seen it and pretended they hadn’t.

He had been born under a very unlucky star.

“Why?” Logan glared at her, ignoring the dangling eyepatch.

“Cause we got some kids to give candy to and we’re not so boring we’d just dress up like normal, right?” Jubilee smiled innocently, as though she hadn’t surprised attacked him. “You know it’s Halloween, right?”

-x-

Earth 616

If there was one benefit to going to Xavier’s school, it was that Kitty had met a lot of people: students, professors, and everyone in between. The school’s doors were constantly revolving as people came and left, sometimes via graduation, sometimes via the morgue. In this tiny ecosystem, she’d learned life’s harshest and best truths.

 Right now, she was learning yet another one: Rachel Summers and Illyana Rasputina should not be put in the same room.

Then again, maybe she should have known better. It wasn’t bad enough to have two exes in the same room (and Kitty had to thank the small amount of common sense she had not to invite Piotr too), but she also had to invite in the two with the strongest, most aggressive personalities. Any other combination of her friends could have ended with a little give and take, laughter, and everyone leaving in one piece.

Now Kitty had to worry about portals to hell and an ancient, universal power destroying everything over a popcorn feud.

Kitty sighed into her knees. She had folded herself up as small as possible as she sat on the couch, squashed between Rachel and Illyana. Knees bent, arms wrapped around her legs, she rested her chin on her knees and stared blankly at the tv. What she was watching, she had no idea, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the cold war occurring over her head. Even without looking, she knew they were glaring at each other.

They always did. The romantic in her liked to think it was over her, the realist realized it was just the way they were built. They were magnets with the same polarity; it was impossible for them to touch.

“So.” Kitty spoke first, unable to take it any longer. She finally figured out what horror movie they were watching. “You guys liking the movie? It’s good for Halloween, right?”

Illyana turned her head slightly, assessing the movie. Kitty could feel Illyana’s bare leg brush against her thigh as Illyana shifted her position.

It was going to be very hard to concentrate on the movie if she didn’t move.

“I guess. It’s pointless,” Illyana finally said. She bent her arm on the armrest and rested her chin on her hand. “The plot’s the same.”

Rachel snorted. As usual, her voice was low and husky, giving her a mysterious air even though she was wearing an ordinary flannel top and jeans. She sounded like she could be from anywhere. “Now the princess is a critic.”

“Oh, I forgot, you like boredom,” Illyana sniped back, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Rachel growled, “I just like safety, unlike a certain rabid dog.”

Ilyana curled her lip and sneered. “Safety or just hiding from yourself?”

They were glaring at each other. Kitty felt like she was surrounded by knives. This had been a terrible idea. For two people who looked like they’d get along on paper, they were impossible to have in the same city, let alone room in reality. Any two other people would have been a better match than this.

Hell, she would have taken Logan and Scott and their weird rivalry over this. The only good thing is that with her powers, she could sink into the basement before they accidentally murdered her.

Pulling out her phone, Kitty texted furiously. Kurt. When are you getting here?

It took two seconds for her phone to buzz as her fuzzy friend replied. Sorry. Busy.

She twitched. Kurt had known about this movie night for weeks now. He’d even promised to bring nachos. Glaring at the screen, she wrote, Liar. Get here. Now.

I like living. I’ll see you tomorrow.

He was bailing. On her. Kitty clenched the phone tightly, wishing it’d crack. Who needed friends?

-x-

Earth 11052

Rogue was nervous. Her palms were sweaty, she couldn’t keep still, and her feet were itching to just leave. The last time she’d felt like this, she’d gone to prom and almost killed a guy.

It was silly. She shouldn’t feel like this tonight. That had been a long time ago, before she’d known her powers, before she’d learned how to control her powers. Rogue had been alone then. Now, she had the X-Men on her side. Unlike then, tonight would be a normal, teenage night. Well, as much as it could be, when the world was out to kill you and your classmates were composed of your enemies.

It was funny what ‘normal’ could look like.

“Nervous?” Kurt asked, standing next to her in the floor-length mirror as he adjusted his collar. With his regulator on, he looked like an ordinary teenager and nothing like the furry elf she’d come to consider a brother.

“Don’t know why ya bother,” Rogue chided, side-stepping the question as she watched him mess with his hair now. The dorms rules were pretty relaxed, not caring who went into whose dorm room as long as it was all kid-friendly. “Ah doubt you’ll look any better.”

Kurt didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grinned and boasted, “I know, it’s hard to make the regulator match my beauty, but I do my best.”

She didn’t know how to feel about that. It’d been a long time since anyone had gotten this close to her, emotionally. Long time since anyone saw past her barbs for what they were. These days, Kurt had stopped cowering in her presence. Hell, he even sought it.

Brother. Perhaps there was something to the family crap.

 Reluctantly, Rogue answered, “Ah’m not sure if ah should be comin’.”

“Well, I’m sure,” Kitty interrupted as she entered their shared bedroom. She was dressed up now, all black and leather and sleek as can be. The cat ears on her head gave away her outfit: slutty cat. “I want to go clubbing with both of you.”

Rogue glanced at Kurt and tapped her jaw. “You’re drooling.”

“I’m not!” Kurt wiped his mouth anyways.

She chuckled. It was hard to resist teasing him ever since she’d found out about his very obvious crush on Kitty. It was a miracle the lady in question had never noticed it. Turning back to the mirror, she tugged on her arm length gloves, double-checking that every part of her was covered up. “There’s a lotta people. Somethin’ could happen.”

“So? We’ll take care of it,” Kitty replied confidently, her hand reaching for Rogue’s gloved one with no hesitation. “You know what we can do. Dodging people is easy.”

“Ja.” Kurt reached for her other hand. “And I can teleport you away. We gotcha.”

It was easy to believe that, with their hands in hers, with their reflections smiling back at her.

They made her want to believe. She gripped their hands tight. “What’re we waitin’ for? Let’s go!”

-x-

Earth 982

There was unfair and then there was unfair. Mayday had fought supervillains on her way to exams, hidden from classmates to protect her identity, and even bailed on a date to keep peace. She knew all about the various degrees of bullshit the universe tossed around on a daily basis.

Seated in her living room, surrounded by her family, she had never seen a worse situation in her life. It was bad enough that she was too old to go trick-or-treating without having to deal with this. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, complaining, “This is unfair.”

Across the room, her father and uncle high-fived each other before turning to her. They were old and middle-aged and still for some reason had enough baby fat on their faces that they looked like they were in their 30s. If Mayday was lucky, she won the genetic lottery and got that too.

“What’s unfair?” her father asked, plopping on the recliner.

“You two,” Mayday grumbled, shaking a fist at the pair.

Uncle Ben slouched on the couch, his posture almost identical to her father’s. He’d been born an adult; twenty years weren’t enough to change old habits. He grinned mischievously. “Do I hear a sore loser?”

“I’m not!” Mayday leaned forward, directing her death glare at her uncle. “The rest of us don’t get clones who can just read our minds. This is cheating!”

“I can’t read his mind.” Uncle Ben chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand as he tried to take the matter seriously. It didn’t help. His shoulders shook and Mayday flushed, embarrassed.

“Hey, it’s a possibility!” she defended herself. “We fight gods every Tuesday! It could happen.”

“Well, I didn’t get bitten by a radioactive psychic.” Her father, ever the jokester, pinched his brow and stared off into the distance like he was listening to a far away voice. “Yes, master, I think she fell for it.”

“Peter,” her mother chided. Any hope Mayday had of her taking it seriously was lost the second she giggled.

“You know, this is charades, right?” Uncle Ben asked, his hands moving as he talked. “If we didn’t talk or write, it’s not cheating.”

“You two don’t even have to talk!” Mayday stood up. If her mother wouldn’t do it, she’d do it herself. “You just look at each other or make a gesture and you already know what you’re going to do! It’s unfair! We’re swapping partners.”

Her mother finally calmed down. She reached for Mayday’s hand and squeezed it gently. “That’s a great idea.”

Not expecting the back up, Mayday blinked owlishly. “It is?”

“They do have an unfair advantage.” Her mom smiled beautifully, as though she were out walking the runway or giving a photo shoot. “I’ll take Ben.”

Peter, who was half-way getting up, froze. “Huh?” He jerked his head up, offended. “What?”

“He’s cuter,” her mother teased, winking at her uncle.

Ben played along, blowing a kiss back. “I got the good genes.”

Her father fell into his seat and pouted. “It’s the same genes. Which I had first.”

“What do you think, Mayday?” her mother asked, turning to her with a mischievous grin. “Who do you want to partner with?”

It was an easy question, even if her mother wasn’t making fun of her father. Without hesitation, Mayday answered, “Uncle Ben. He’s smarter and funner and nicer and—”

Her father squawked. “Mutiny! Treason! Attacked on all sides!”

-x-

The Watcher smiled, tearing his eyes away from the wonderous sights of the night. There were so many worlds to observe, so many experiences to consume. This was more than satisfying for this night. Perhaps tomorrow he’d look for more worlds, more stories, more people.

Perhaps tomorrow, he’d find an irreplaceable sight.