#ive never had a piece blow up like that ANYWHERE

[amiscreations]

✨you built the castle, but I rule over me✨

More art on my Instagram!

I'm still slightly in shock at the response to my Gwen piece, so here's a (kind of) matching painting of our very own High Priestess, The Lady Morgana✨

[theguardianace]

trying to piece together outer wild for a sec dont mind me

ok so what i know so far

nomai came from somewhere in space looking for the eye of the universe. they ended up getting sucked into dark bramble during the warp and got stuck. only 2 escape pods made it out, who then built a civilization on every single planet in the solar system.

they continued looking for the eye by building the orbital probe cannon. however, when it launches at the start of every loop, it shatters. it worked, though.

as far as i know the nomai never found the eye. i think it's quantum because the signal is so hard to track, though i have no confirmation. i would need to actually explore the quantum moon to figure this out i believe

after discovering the time properties behind warping, they created the ash twin project to create a 22 minute time interval whenever the sun went supernova. they built the sun station to make the sun go supernova, but it failed.

gabbro and i are the only ones stuck in a loop, because we regain our memories from the statues we bonded with every time the sun goes supernova.

the universe is dying. the sun has reached the end of it's natural life cycle. there is nothing we can do to un-supernova the sun.

the nomai found our ancestors on timber hearth and thought we were cute :)

feldspar do be chilling on dark bramble. because they're just like that.

the nomai explored using gravity cannons/ships. from brittle hollow, solanum went to the quantum moon but never returned. her remains are on the moon and i don't like that. three others went to the interloper from ember twin, though i haven't been yet.

stuff i still gotta figure out

ive never actually been to hollows lantern and lived to land. lol

ive also never been on the interloper. probably should check it out.

what killed the nomai? it wasn't a civilization reason- they had schools, and factories, and everything it seems they needed to survive. they didn't blow up the sun. with the way their remains are scattered, it appears that their death was sudden. like they all just. died instantly of. something. but what?

speaking of dying what's ghost matter? i used to think it was haunted rocks from the nomai but with a game so. sciencey. i don' think that makes sense.

also why is there no life literally anywhere in the universe (except dark bramble but screw the angler fish). there's no way it's just us and pine trees.

what do i do with the warp core

is it even possible to save my friends

i need to find the vessel. i know Where it is i just never made it that far lol

why 22 minutes? why that specific time interval?

[mathiascain]

I. The city is exploding, or is it just one explosion? I know better than to think this is a one time thing. In all my past experience, one bomb isn't enough. It's never enough. If Patrick and I didn't dispatch the gang just a while back, I would have thought this was them. This attacked seemed calculated though, and that makes me think it was someone smart. Someone who had been planning an attack like this for a while. Then the invaders came, and it solidified my guess. How interesting it is to be in a city worth attacking.

II. I've been pretty lucky with avoiding these bombings. I know I'm not indestructible, and I heard that the second bomb wasn't an ordinary one either. I don't wanna know what would have happened if I got caught in it. I've been trying to stick by Patrick though, because if I am going to blow up, I'd want him there next to me. Maybe he could pick up the pieces and place me somewhere safe. I don't fear dying, even in such a horrible way. But right now he needs me to survive and live, so I will.

III. It wasn't until now that I started to worry about Elessar. I don't know where he is, or what he's doing, but that does worry me. When I asked Patrick what it meant, he didn't say anything. I think he's too occupied with finding the priest. I understand that. I know he cannot live without his priest, not after all it took for him to win him back. It makes me feel sad to see his worry. Maybe I can go on my own and find him for Patrick. That might make him worry less.

IV. I think our luck ran out here. I was on the phone with Patrick when the phone ended. I know he would never do that, so I tracked him, and found blood. It was a lot of blood, and I couldn't find him anywhere after that. He died. I know he did. The realization hit and the truth was revealed to me. Patrick wasn't my brother, he was my father, and I lost him. It's not something I've ever thought about, but it really hurts. I want to mourn and kill, but I have to find his body and find the priest. It's what he would want me to do. If I find his body and the priest, then I will honor my father in the way he wanted.

V. There's still no sign on Patrick's body anywhere. I think the explosion destroyed it. It makes me sad, but I know his horns are here somewhere. I killed many of the invaders who stood in my way during my efforts. I found the priest eventually, and he seemed alright, but I didn't tell him about Patrick. I think that would hurt him, and I can't bring myself to hurt him for once. So he sticks with me, as we try to escape the city. I don't tell him why I linger in alley ways or look under rubble. I still have hope that I will find my father's body.

VI. Eventually the Priest leaves me, I don't know why. He left like he saw a ghost of hope, and maybe I should have followed. But my orders were to find Patrick's body, so I have to keep doing that. I will find the Priest later and make sure he's safe and sound. It must be hard for him. I think he might have started to guess what happened to Patrick. The explosion I heard was in the direction the Priest went though, and that made me stop for once. When I ran back, I saw him there, holding Patrick's body. I've seen a lot of dead people, but I wasn't ready to see that one. I hope my father finds peace in death, he deserves it.

[speak-now-girlies-unite]

(this is really long, if you want the tl;dr- lines from her song and from karnarks explanation make me think she hung from a tree for a bit. no one knew her cs she just moved to uranium a week b4 the accident and no one ever really had a chance to notice her.)

my much more in depth reasoning for jane hanging in the tree alive for a bit, plus how no one knew who she was:

cw: death, breif mentioned of shitty parents

how did she die?

in her song she sings “and from the ground beneath my feet i hear the anguish in the streets”. karnark says that the front axel (i tried googling what that is, i did not get very good results) broke and they fell from the top of the loop-de-loop, so the idea that shes falling feet first doesnt make much sense, and the idea that she gets stuck in the cart with her feet towards the ground doesnt make much sense either. i think she was definitely the last one to die, and ik that the head can hear for 7 seconds after being decapitated but i couldnt figure out a way for her head to be cut clean off, nothing really added up like that. plus, if it was just separated from her body and not destroyed, how did no one ever find it?

so i decided that the cart crashes into her head, squishing it into a million little pieces, killing her and allowing her to fall from the tree, unidentifiable and the last to die.

how did no one know her?

as we all know, uranium is a tiny town. in an early version of the opening song, they even say that theres only one main street. so if uranium is so small and everyone knew everyone, how did no one know jane?

i think that her and her family had just barely moved there, maybe for the same reason as oceans parents? maybe they just wanted to find a small rural town idk. jane joins the school and the choir a week before their performance/the accident, and father marcus lets her join because he thinks itll help her make friends. because she joined so late, her name isnt registered in the choir competition.

at the few choir practices that shes there for, she hangs around in the back with ricky. they noticed each other, but ricky couldnt talk and he never knew her name. in the afterlife, he knew what she looked like, but nothing about her (name personality likes dislikes etc) so he never mentioned that he knew her cause he didnt. the rest of the choir never noticed her.

(mischa- either skipping or on his phone. noel- arguing with ocean or missing cs of work. ocean- arguing with noel and being insane and stressed. constance- trying to keep noel and ocean from blowing up the place)

ok sure the choir but what about the rest of the school?

i think that jane couldve gotten mildly sick for a few days before the comp. if she had just moved to the school, and then disappeared for 2-3 days, and then died, she barely wouldve been noticed by anyone. no one knew her enough to notice her absence.

also, even if youre thinking the school keeping record of her tranferring, i think a lot of the town was very careless with records and in general keeping things safe. she couldve just not been ever mentioned anywhere.

her family???

this is the one thats actually stumped me. tbh i dont know and theres no real way to know, but if i had to come up with an explanation, i would say that she wasnt a planned kid, her parents were shitty, and they noticed she was gone but just never said anything bc they didnt care enough </3

ive also seen people bring up a little brother, but i dont know anything about legoland so im not going to go there, sorry.

so thats how i think everything went down! if you have any other questions, feel free to ask and ill try to answer the best i can. and remember, thats just a theory. a september 14th 6:19pm theoryy

how i think the choir died, in order + color coded<3 i doubt this is very accurate to how things happen irl but oh well

(the gray circles are trees)

[floriograph-y]

Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder

This is the first part of a one-shot! You can the whole piece one AO3

Julie closes her eyes in the middle of her line, and Luke watches from the auditorium seats. It’s the Nunnery scene, and Ophelia is speaking in the moments between Hamlet’s (Luke’s) exit and King Claudius’s (Alex) and Polonius’s (Bobby’s) reentry. Julie is auditioning, though most of the parts were cast last week. Mrs. Harrison, high school English teacher and volunteer community theater director, was hellbent on finding the perfect Ophelia, and finally, Carrie (Queen Gertrude) convinced her on-again-off-again friend Julie to audition for the part. She promised Mrs. Harrison that Julie is amazing, and Luke didn’t miss the jealous roll of Carrie’s eyes as the words left her mouth. Luke is pretty sure Carrie wouldn’t have brought up Julie at all if Ophelia didn’t die before Queen Gertrude.

Based on the sparkle currently present in Mrs. Harrison’s eye, Julie has the part. At least, Luke hopes this is true. He’s never seen Julie so confident before, and she killed the small monologue. He can’t wait to see how she handles Act IV Scene V. 

Luke doesn’t know Julie Molina that well. He knows she’s friendly with Alex, his bandmate in Sunset Curve — or as Julie constantly miscalls them, Sunset Swerve — and that Reggie, one of his other bandmates, has a ginormous crush on Carrie. And they get thrown together every so often, only being a year apart at the local liberal arts college, but every time it’s almost just the two of them — Alex hurrying away from the conversation to meet his boyfriend or Reggie and Flynn sneaking off to pull a prank that Julie would disapprove of — Julie finds an excuse to leave. He thought for a while that she might hate him, but Alex says she just takes time to warm up to new people. Reggies says she’s just skittish. Bobby, the final member of Sunset Curve, thinks she’s just weird. Lately, Luke tends to take Bobby’s sullen opinions with a grain of salt.

Mrs. Harrison starts clapping as Julie finishes with, “To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!”

Luke, Alex, and Reggie — Guildenstern — clap along with her, while Carrie files her nails, Bobby slouches in his seat, Nick — Laertes — looks to be half-asleep — and Flynn — Rosencrantz, costume designer, and Julie’s best friend — just sits with her head in her hands and an amazed smile on her face. Once Flynn realizes the scene is over and she can stop fawning, she lets out a few loud cries of admiration.

“While I’m sure the part is yours, I’d like to try you out opposite Luke to see your chemistry. Have you read over act three scene two?” Mrs. Harrison asks.

Luke would call her Marci — her first name, and what everyone else calls her — but he grew up in the area and had her for tenth grade English. She’ll always be Mrs. Harrison to him. She’s the one who got him into community theater during high school, and he’s been participating on and off ever since.

He met Reggie and Alex in college, but he’s known Bobby since they were kids running around with blow-up guitars that were supposed to be pool floaties.

Alex met Carrie a little under a year ago, towards the end of last year, their junior year of college; she was a freshman and had just started dating Nick, a fellow freshman, and was rooming with Julie and Flynn, also fellow freshmen. Carrie latched on to the community theater right away, bringing Nick and Flynn along with her. This is the first time Luke has seen Julie anywhere near his old high school’s auditorium.

“Yes,” Julie answers in the quiet voice he has come to associate with her.

Luke is fascinated with how immediately the confidence fell away.

“Luke?” Mrs. Harrison gestures to the stage.

Luke grabs his copy of the script, jogs up to the stage, and jumps up instead of taking the stage, energy already taking over his body. He smiles at Julie, but she just stares at the floor, her booklet already turned to the correct scene.

“Julie,” Mrs. Harrison starts, “can you grab that chair from upstage? I’d like to see you two act it out physically as well.”

Julie looks behind her, walks to the chair, and drags it back to where Luke is standing. The chair squeaks against the stage floor that Julie can’t seem to look up from. She sits, eyes still downcast.

“We’ll take it from ‘Come hither, my dear Hamlet’ and end with, ‘Nay, ‘tis twice two months.’”

Luke nods. He sees Julie do the same, and moves to stand above her. She’s seated so her side is to the audience, this way Luke will never have to have his back to them.

Mrs. Harrison reads, “Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.”

“No, good mother,” Luke says to the audience before turning to Julie, “here’s metal more attractive.”

Luke gets down on his knees before he begins the next line, and as he speaks, he lets himself fall further, towards Julie’s feet as he looks at her face, a sly smile on his face. He asks, “Lady, shall I lie in your lap?”

The change in Julie’s demeanor is instantaneous. She goes from looking at the floor just next to Luke’s face to actually looking at Luke’s face, and her features soften as her confidence grows.

“No, my lord,” she responds with an even measure of indifference and irritation in her tone.

“I mean, my head upon your lap?” Luke rectifies as he lifts his head once more, moving toward her thighs.

Julie looks away from him, facing straight in front of her, but a hand lightly moves his head away. “Ay, my lord,” she says.

Luke rises, steps behind her chair, grabs the back, and turns the chair so it is now facing the audience. He drops his mouth to sit next to her ear, and asks in more of a drawl, “Do you think I meant country matters?”

Julie’s back straightens, but her gaze does not waver from the air in front of her.

“I think nothing, my lord.” Her words become slightly more laced with irritation.

Luke crouches next to her, as there are no more chairs on the stage, and faces the same direction she is. He lets a smirk play on his lips as he says, “That’s a fair thought to lie between maid’s legs.”

Julie’s head drops to check her script, but she keeps her gaze there as she asks, “What is, my lord?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, raising his chin, keeping the smirk plastered on his face.

He sees Julie turn to face him in his peripheral, and he moves quickly to meet her gaze. She is unfazed by how close their faces are, but he is almost mesmerized by the intensity shining in her eyes. He gulps, waiting for her line, heart beating so loudly he thinks she can hear it, but she holds his gaze a moment too long, making him uncomfortable. He thinks this is the goal, and so he counters it by letting his eyes slowly move down and up, taking in every detail of her body beneath her nearly-sheer, white, anklet-length, spring dress.

“You are merry, my lord,” she says slowly once his eyes come back to hers.

“Who,” he draws out, once again meeting her in tempo and emotion, “I?”

“Ay, my lord,” she returns.

She raises a brow before returning her stare to the audience.

“Oh, God, your only jig-maker,” Luke says, still smiling, but then lets the smile fall. He looks away from Julie, once again following her gaze to the audience. “What should a man do but be merry? For, look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within’s two hours.”

Julie, again, looks at him, he can see it, but he does not meet her gaze. He can’t see her face as clearly, but he knows she’s perfectly portraying an almost-hidden worry. She has to be.

“Nay, ‘tis twice two months, my lord.”

The scene is finally over, so he turns back to her, but she’s already looking at the stage floor, her face completely void of the confidence he was just facing. He knows Mrs. Harrison is going to cast her as Ophelia, and he is grateful. He thinks there’s so much more to Julie Molina than he previously thought. He wants nothing more than to stay on this stage and find it.

[doc-pickles]

anywhere i want (just not home)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

For the love of my life, the inspiration behind TS week, the wind in my sails… Happy later birthday @odd-birds-and-booksellers I hope you enjoy this

Always, Your Computer Wife,

Nina

+

We gather here, we line up

Weepin' in a sunlit room, and

If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

The pain in her cheek is still stinging as she struggles to open her eyes. There’s the faintest hint of sunlight filtering through the large window of her bedroom, a new day just beginning only hours after she’d finally been left alone long enough to find some peace.

The bed next to her is cold and empty, Paul having left for work while she was still crying and groaning in pain. He hadn’t spared her a second glance as he’d gotten dressed for the day, stepping over the puddle of blood that had collected on the floor where she’d laid for hours as he kicked her mercilessly, hurling harsh blows and leering insults as she’d tried to protect herself.

She pulls herself up and drags her barely conscious body to the shower, rinsing off the dried blood and sweat as she tends to the wounds she can see. She already knows she has at least one bruised rib and a sprained ankle, but she can’t do much about it now. For now all she can do is rinse off, lay in bed and hope that tonight doesn’t bring more of the same.

+

Jo bolts upright in bed, hand pressed to her chest as she attempts to slow her breathing down. The dream echoes in the back of her head, the painful memories replaying themselves in vivid technicolor right before her eyes.

She knows why they’re haunting her again, knows that he’s looking for her right now and that he won’t stop until he’s found her. Paul has made that much clear with his texts and letters, little signs to make it clear that they’re not done yet.

A hand closes over hers and she almost jumps before she remembers where she is. Jo squeezes Alex’s hand back, letting him pull her back down and into his embrace. As soon as his arms circle around her she can feel her body begin to calm down.

“It’s not even 2 AM, try and get some sleep, you need it,” Alex’s voice in her ears convinces her to close her eyes, even if sleep is far off the feeling of him so close helps to relax her. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

It’s later that same day when Jo receives another text, the ping stopping her during rounds and prompting her to make a flimsy excuse to Meredith as she rushes to the nearest bathroom.

Can’t wait to see you soon, both of you.

The text lingers in her mind as her breakfast reappears, tears flowing as she tries to drown out the overwhelming noise in her mind. Paul didn’t make empty threats, that’s one thing she knew for sure. The texts she was receiving were just the tip of the iceberg for whatever he had in store for her.

“Jo? You in here?”

She can barely respond to Alex in between crying and being sick, her body overwhelmed as she tries to keep herself calm. Jo can hear Alex saying something incomprehensible as she begins to hyperventilate, his voice growing further away as her breathing became more ragged.

The last thing Jo registers before everything goes black is Alex holding her against his chest, his fingers threading through her hair in an attempt to calm her as his heartbeat echoed unsteadily in her ears.

When she comes back around Jo’s not shocked to find herself laying in a hospital bed, an IV and monitoring wires hooked up to her pale skin. Before she has a chance to overthink anything though Alex is in front of her, his hands running down her cheeks and wiping away the tears she hadn’t realized had collected there.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you,” Alex’s voice is soft as she meets his eyes, his gaze causing her to melt into another round of tears. “Oh Jo, it’s okay.”

“It’s not! He’s going to kill me, he already knows where I am and this time he’s going to make sure I don’t survive,” Jo chokes the words out, her fingers ghosting over her protruding stomach. “Alex, he's not going to leave me alone until both of us are dead. I can’t put our baby at risk like that.”

The thought almost makes her sick again, her daughter kicking against her hand as she draws in a deep breath. Of all the wild and unexpected things her and Alex had been through, their daughter was by far her favorite. Even with a few weeks left until she arrived Jo already felt a fierce instinct to protect the little girl growing in her womb.

“I’m not going to let him get anywhere near the two of you, I promise,” Alex brushes back a few strands of hair lingering on her forehead, pressing a kiss to the cool skin as he settles into the bed next to her. “You’re safe with me Jo, both of you are.”

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

Jo wants to believe Alex, she really does. Since her breakdown over Paul’s threats he had been by her side whenever he could. His presence was comforting but it did little to calm the raging mental battle she was fighting inside her head.

Now though, as she stares down at her daughter sleeping peacefully in her arms, she knows that she made the right decision. She just hopes Alex agrees with her.

“She's perfect, you did so good,” Alex had repeated the words over and over since Isla had made her appearance almost six hours ago, but they still prompt a smile on Jo’s face. “I love you two so much.”

“I love you, we both do,” Jo leans up and captures his lips with her own, lingering a little longer than she normally would as Alex’s fingers trace her cheek delicately. “Would you do me a big favor? I left my robe at home and it’s freezing in here. Could you go home real quick and grab it?”

Alex nods, a grin on his face as he stands from the chair at her bedside and gathers his keys and wallet. Jo watches him intently, memorizing every movement and expression that makes him exactly the man she fell in love with. He leans down to press one more kiss to her forehead then Isla’s before promising to be back soon.

As the door to her hospital room shuts, Jo looks down at her daughter, tears splashing onto the newborn's cheeks as her mother watches her, “Your daddy loves you very much, don’t you ever forget that.”

And you're the hero flying around, saving face

“Alex, are you coming to work today? It’s been a week,” Meredith’s voice rings out from the doorway of the loft, but Alex can’t bring himself to answer her. She’d been by everyday since he’d come home, her voice prodding at him the only sound in the loft.

He’d gone home to get Jo’s robe like she’d asked, finally finding it tucked away at the very back of the closet instead of hanging in the bathroom like it usually was. On his way back to her room, he’d stopped in the hospital gift shop and grabbed the fluffiest pink and white teddy bear sitting in the window. He had told the cashier that his daughter had just been born and showed off the photo of Jo and Isla that was already his phone lock screen.

And then he’d gone upstairs, the missing robe and teddy bear tumbling from his hands as he found an empty bed and bassinet, Jo and Isla’s bags gone from the room that they’d occupied not even an hour before when he’d left. He’d asked every nurse and doctor on shift but no one had an answer for him. When he finally made it back to the room, he saw the note hastily scribbled across a spare piece of paper, his knees giving way as he read the words printed in Jo’s recognizable script.

I couldn’t let him find us, I’m so sorry. Please don’t worry, we’re safe.

Love you always.

J & I

He’d sat on the floor of the hospital room until Meredith had come to collect him at the bidding of the nurses on the floor. She’d given him a sympathetic look and held him as he cried, only letting his guard down for his closest friend.

The reality hadn’t truly sunk in until he came home later that night to an empty loft filled with baby gear and the scent of Jo lingering on every surface. He’d screamed then, throwing pillows and couch cushions and anything he could find in an attempt to get some of his emotions out in the open.

It hadn’t helped though, the sadness he’d felt morphing into feelings of anger and helplessness. Alex knew that Jo was acting out of desperation, doing what she truly thought was right, and he couldn’t be mad at her for that. No, his anger was directed at the man that had pushed her to that point, had scared her and haunted her every move so horribly that she’d fled Seattle with their newborn daughter in tow.

As he ignores Meredith for yet another day, Alex let his mind wander to Jo and Isla for a moment. He knows Jo would never run with their daughter if she didn’t have a plan to keep her safe, but just the knowledge that they were out there without him broke his heart.

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

His fingers press down the collar of the light blue button up once more before sliding the black suit jacket over it. He examines himself in the mirror of the hotel room one last time before turning to leave. He’d only been to Seattle once before for a medical conference, but this trip held a much more important air to it.

Brooke, his Brooke, was close. Closer than she’d ever been before and he couldn’t wait to see her again. He was delighted when he’d found her again, even more so when he found out that she was a doctor giving him the perfect opportunity to drop in on her. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he saw her.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean

Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

When Alex finally makes it back to work he’s met with an abundance of pitying looks and unhelpful comments. He knows most of his coworkers have good intentions but he’s in the verge of screaming at the next person who interacts with him. All he wants to do is work and try and forget that his daughter and the love of his life aren’t waiting for him at home like they should be.

“Alex! I have someone I want you to meet,” Arizona’s bubbly voice almost makes Alex roll his eyes, the blonde not doing much to improve his demeanor since he was in no mood to meet anyone new. “This is Doctor Paul Stadler, he’s an expert on laparoscopic surgery techniques which is always helpful when we have tiny humans to save.”

Alex can feel his blood run cold as he turns towards Arizona and the man standing next to her. Whatever picture he had painted in his head fades as he stares at the man in front of him. Despite his bright grin Alex knows exactly what Paul is capable of, what he had done and threatened to do to Jo.

“While I’d love to meet your whole team Doctor Robbins, I’m not here on business today. I’m looking for Doctor Wilson actually.”

“Oh,” Arizona’s face falls, gaze turning to Alex as his jaw tightens. “Actually she’s-“

“She’s gone, she left,” Alex’s voice has an edge that makes even him flinch at how harsh and cold it is.

Paul eyes Alex for a moment, looking him over before speaking again, “That’s unfortunate. Would you happen to know where she is? I’d love to speak with her.”

“Well get in line then because I've been waiting for her to come home for the past three weeks,” Alex slams the iPad in his hands onto the counter of the nurses station, eyes ablaze as he stares Paul down. “You harassed her for months on end and scared her so much that she ran away with our daughter hours after giving birth.”

Paul attempts to conceal the smirk on his face but fails, causing Alex to step towards him with clenched fists. Arizona steps between the two men, fixing Alex with a hard stare.

“Back up Alex. I know that you’re upset about Jo but-“

“But nothing! He’s the reason my girlfriend and daughter are gone!”

“Okay why don’t you take the rest of the day off,” Arizona’s hands squeezing his shoulders finally breaks Alex’s gaze away from Paul whose face has broken into a full on shit eating grin. Arizona and Alex exchange a look and he can tell she’s holding back her anger now as well. “Alex, go home.”

How can I when they’re not there?

The question echoes in his mind the whole drive back to the loft, Alex’s heart constricting as he sat on the edge of his and Jo’s bed. The loft was still empty, sounds still echoing off the walls as he sat alone. His mind brings up the image of Jo and Isla sitting in their hospital room as he walked away, not knowing that was the last time he’d see them.

He leans forward, reaching into his dresser and rummages around his sock drawer for a minute before pulling out a velvet box. When Jo had told him she was pregnant he’d immediately gone out and bought the ring. Not because of Isla, but because starting a family with Jo was all the confirmation he needed that she was it for him. Now the box sat collecting dust in his drawer, it’s future uncertain as he wondered exactly where Jo was.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you

But what a ghostly scene

“And this is your daddy and your Auntie Meredith. They love you so much,” despite knowing that the infant couldn’t understand what she said or even clearly see the photo she had pulled up on her phone, Jo made sure that Isla knew about all of the people they loved in Seattle. “Your daddy misses you so much, baby girl. I’m sorry I took you away from him, I know that makes me a crappy mom.”

“You’re not a crappy mom,” Jo looks from Isla to the man sitting next to her, his hand settling on her shoulder as he fixes her with a knowing look. “You did what you had to do.”

“Some days it doesn’t feel like that,” Jo sighs, her head falling to his shoulder as she fights back tears. “I took her from her dad! I took her away from the only family she’ll ever have, Link. And why? Because I’m scared?”

Link pulls back from Jo, meeting her eyes as he speaks, “You had every reason to run, you know that. I’ve seen what he’s capable of, I wouldn’t want to worry about that all the time if I were you. Especially with a newborn, I get it. So don’t feel too bad for yourself, I think you made the right choice.”

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

“Jo?”

The lights in the loft are off but Jo’s car is parked out front. When he switches the lights on Alex sees Jo shoving clothes into a tote bag, tear stains tracking down her cheeks.

“Jo what are you doing?”

"I'm going to Stephanie’s for a few nights, just until I can figure things out.”

Jo’s voice is nervous and she's talking a mile a minute. She still hasn't looked up at Alex but he can see the bright red hives cropping up on her neck already.

"I'm sorry it was an accident but I’m going to

fix it. It's my fault, I'll fix it!”

"What are you talking about,” despite the fact that he's spoken up more than once Jo seems to be in a world of her own.

“Don't worry about it, you don't need more stress,” Jo’s hands are shaking as she closes the bag she's holding. "It's still early, it'll be an easy fix. I'm going to fix it, I have an appointment scheduled."

It clicks for Alex then just exactly what Jo is talking about. He sinks to his knees next to her tilting her chin up so she’ll finally look at him.

“Are you pregnant?”

"I'm sorry, I missed my birth control it was an accident," Jo’s tone is frantic now as more tears begin to fall. "I have an appointment, I'm going to fix it-“

"Jo slow down, I'm not mad so stop apologizing,” Alex wiped at the tears that had collected on Jo’s cheeks. "You don't want our baby?”

Jo blinked up at Alex as if nothing he was saying was making sense to her.

“What's actually the matter Jo? Why were you so scared to tell me?"

“I… I'm married."

“What?"

“I'm married to a guy who nearly beat me to death. And when I got pregnant I thought he'd

be happy and maybe he'd let up, instead he yelled and screamed and then he,” Jo pauses, eyes downcast as she looks down at her hands. “When he was done with me for the night I wasn't pregnant anymore.

“He wouldn't let me get birth control though so the next time I just solved the problem quietly. And when it happened a third time I ran. I ran and changed my name and never turned back,” Jo finally looks up and meets Alex’s gaze, eyes watery still as he watches her. “I had a miscarraige that time, probably because of how banged up I was. But it got me out of there. So when I started having the same symptoms again I freaked out.”

“Oh Jo…”

“Alex, I’m terrified of my past and of losing you and losing this baby… I’ve already lost far too much. I don’t want to lose any more.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m all in with you even if it means we never get married. You and this baby mean everything to me. That is if you want it.”

“Of course I do, I want this more than anything. I want kids with you, I really do but…”

“Okay then we’ll do it.”

“Really? You dont think I’m too damaged or crazy?”

“Yes Jo, I want all of that,” Alex pulled Jo into his lap, placing a hand over her stomach as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you and you’re just about the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

The room is spinning when she pries her eyes open, dried blood making the task difficult. She tries to sit up, but the pain radiating from her stomach keeps her down. She knows if she moves she’ll make it worse, but her body is in pain and she can’t lay in this position much longer.

As soon as she makes a move, the pain is back. She thinks it’s his foot that’s making contact with her ribs now, digging into her back as her body curls in on itself.

“Stop! Please!”

The cries are useless, they always are, but she hopes that maybe they’ll convince him to end her suffering sooner or throw the next punch a little softer.

“Please stop! Stop!”

Her shoulders are shaking as she blinks her eyes open again, a pair of blue eyes staring down at her in concern.

“It was just a nightmare, you’re okay and you’re safe,” Link’s words help to steady her heartbeat a little, her eyes moving to Isla who's peacefully sleeping in his arms. “I woke you up because I just turned the news on. Take a look.”

“Former Harvard University professor Paul Stadler was arrested early yesterday morning on charges of battery and assault against his girlfriend, who is still being treated for her injuries at Massachusetts General Hospital. Since his arrest, three more women have come forward with allegations against Stadler ranging from ongoing harassment to physical violence and sexual assault. Boston PD is asking any other victims to contact them at this time.”

Jo stares blankly at the television in front of her, eyes welling with tears as the news footage continues to roll. She wasn’t alone and she was so close to being free from Paul’s hold on her.

“You have to go to Boston, your testimony could put him away,” Link’s voice snaps her out of her reverie, eyes moving from the television to him. “Jo, he’s going to prison. You can finally be free.”

The hope that had ignited her heart just moments earlier was crushed as she played through the possibilities before her. What if she testified and Paul wasn’t put in prison? What if he continued to harass her? What if he hurt Isla? Or Alex?

“I can’t. I can’t face him again… There's too much on the line,” Jo looks away from Link, her tears finally falling. “I have too much to lose.”

“And you’ll be stuck right here if you don’t do anything!”

“At least I’ll be safe then.”

“And what about Alex? You’re okay never seeing him again? Never letting Isla see him?”

Jo stands suddenly, facing Link with an angry expression, “You don’t get to make the calls here Link! I appreciate everything you’ve done for us but I can’t risk everything when there’s not a guarantee that it’ll end up well.”

Jo storms out of the room then, complex emotions overwhelming her as she sinks into her bed. She wishes things were easier, were more black and white instead of the fuzzy grey she’d become so accustomed to. But they aren’t, they never would be with Paul and now she’d dragged Alex and Isla and even Link into the pools of grey she’d spent so long trying to avoid.

And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want, just not home

Alex watched his phone ring for a moment, debating on picking up at all. He doesn’t recognize the number and he doesn’t know anyone from California. But he still clicks the green accept button, hoping whoever it was wasn’t going to waste his time.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m so glad you picked up.”

Alex freezes, stares at his phone for a moment, then brings it back up to his ear, “Jo? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” there’s a long pause and Alex almost thinks she’s hung up before she begins to cry. “I’m so sorry Alex. I’m so sorry we left you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know, I get why you left. I hate it but I understand,” a sigh leaves him as he rests his head against the wall next to him, tears forming in his eyes as well, “Are you okay?”

“Yes we’re both fine, I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t have somewhere safe to run to,” Jo sucks in a breath, as if her next words are taking everything out of her. “Paul is going to prison.”

“I know, I saw. Are you going to testify?”

“I don’t know. I want to but… There's too much at risk. I don’t want him to hurt you or Isla.”

Just the sound of his daughter's name tugs at Alex’s heart, the tears that had been welling in his eyes spilling onto his cheeks.

“If you don’t go you’re going to be living in fear for the rest of your life. But if you do, you can get closure. And you can save more people from getting hurt by Paul.”

She lets his words sink in for a moment before he hears her voice again, “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, you and Isla both,” Alex can hear shuffling in the background, a deep voice and then a small cry.

“I have to go, Alex.”

“Wait Jo-”

“I love you. We both do.”

“I love you too.”

The line goes dead then and Alex can’t help the sob that breaks from his chest. He misses Jo, misses Isla, misses the feeling of wholeness that came to him when he would climb into bed with Jo at the end of every day.

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood

But you would still miss me in your bones

Alex doesn't know what drives him to fly to Boston, but he feels a small sense of relief when he sees Paul Stadler in the defendant's seat. A sick feeling makes itself at home in the pit of his stomach as he watches half a dozen women testify to the horrors that Paul had put them through, detailing the ways he had tormented them. Jo had never gone into detail to him but if what she went through was even half as bad as what he was hearing then he understood why she had gone to such extremes to hide from Paul.

He watches as the final woman testifies and finds her seat again, the courtroom silent except for the prosecuting attorneys whispering among themselves. Finally, one of the lawyers stands and addresses the courtroom, “Your honor, we’d like to call our final witness. The prosecution calls Brooke Elizabeth Stadler, now Josephine Alice Wilson, to the stand.”

Alex feels the air leave his lungs as he watches Jo approach the bench. Her hair is shorter and a dirty blonde color but she’s still the same woman he knows so well. The dark blue dress she’s wearing sways lightly as she takes the stand, stating her name and swearing in before she begins to give her testimony. Jo explains how she and Paul met, how they married, and then she goes into the abuse she endured. Alex listens to the detailed accounts she gives, accompanied by the numerous hospital reports.

“And then one day I got sick of it and I ran. I knew Paul would find me though so I fled the state and changed my name. I started a new life and I have a beautiful daughter,” Jo finally meets Alex’s gaze and he gets the overwhelming urge to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close. “But Paul found me again and he was threatening me so as soon as my daughter was born I ran again. I left behind my new life, the only place I’ve ever felt safe because I knew he would find me again and I couldn’t risk him hurting my daughter.”

The air in the courtroom is thick as Jo’s words sink in. Alex knows he’s not the only one who’s been affected by her testimony and the words of everyone that went before her. The prosecutor thanks Jo, the defending attorney waiving their right to question her. As she steps down from the stand she meets Alex’s gaze for a moment before turning away and going back to her seat.

And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky)

And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

“Jurors, have you come to a decision?”

“We have your honor,” there’s a tense silence in the courtroom as the decision is handed off to the judge. “We find the defendant Paul Stadler guilty on all charges.” A breath of relief leaves Alex as he turns to look at Jo. There’s tears streaming down her face and the slightest hint of a smile as she looks at him. Before he can get up and go to her though she's surrounded by the other women who had testified, all of them crying in relief.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

She sees him about fifty feet in front of her, his back to her as he stands almost perfectly still. She watches him for a moment, his slumped shoulders and overall defeated attitude and for a moment she feels guilty for what she’s put him through in the past three months. Before she can dwell on the feeling for too long Alex is turning towards her, looking over her with that same sad expression he’d been wearing in the courtroom.

There’s a moment where all Jo and Alex do is stare at each other before she finds herself rushing forward and launching herself into his embrace. His arms are holding her tightly, refusing to let go even as she begins to cry into his chest.

This moment, the feeling of being in Alex’s arms again, is all Jo has wanted since she’d left Seattle.

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

“Alex, I’m so-”

“Stop, you don't need to apologize to me,” Alex pulls back from Jo, one hand coming to cup her cheek. “I get it, I understand where you’re coming from. I know why you ran so don’t ever think of apologizing to me. I’m just glad that you’re safe.”

A fresh round of tears springs to Jo’s eyes as she looks up at Alex, “I don’t deserve you. I’ve put you through so much.” Alex blinks down at Jo, not believing what he’s hearing. Their relationship had never been one sided, they’d both supported each through tough situations and had come out stronger at the end. In his eyes this was nothing more than another speed bump.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you back Jo. I love you and all of this? None of it changes how I feel about you,” Alex leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Jo’s lips. “I love you and I’m glad you’re back in my arms.”

And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed

“Hey! I just heard the verdict!”

Jo turns at the sound of Link’s voice, a wide smile spreading across her face as her best friend comes into view. It’s not so much the blonde man’s presence that makes her grin as it is the infant in his arms. Isla is wide eyed as she looks at Jo, the three month old blinking up at her mother with a sense of wonder.

“Hi baby girl, I have someone who’s very excited to see you,” Jo eagerly takes her daughter from Link before turning and looking at Alex. “Isla say hi to daddy, he missed you sooo much.”

The look on Alex’s face as he takes Isla from Jo’s arms is priceless, tears welling in his eyes as he lets out a watery laugh. The little girl snuggles comfortably into his arms, as if she had done it a hundred times before and Jo can’t help her own tears as they leak onto her cheeks.

“You three get together, I think this moment needs to be remembered.” Alex and Jo both heed Link’s instruction and wipe their tears away to boast wide grins. The photo of the three of them squeezed together after a grueling ordeal graces their family mantle for years to come. Even when there are dozens of other family photos, pictures from Alex and Jo’s wedding, and the birth of their second daughter, the photo of Jo, Alex, and Isla standing in front of the courthouse in Boston remains the centerpiece of their living room as a reminder of the sacrifices they all made to keep their family together.

Look at how my tears ricochet

[echoalyssa]

Used | JJ Maybank

gif by @anakin-skywalker

WARNING : There IS heavy mentions of rape in this. Please proceed with caution and don’t force yourself to read it if you can’t. If this is a trigger to you, DO NOT read this. I love all of you and please don’t ever hesitate to come to me if you are ever struggling or need someone to talk to.

The fire crackles warmly ahead of you, the Pogues had decided to camp out around a fire on the beach tonight and of course you joined. Plus it was probably mandatory. With how many Kooks there were, the Pogues would have to show up to hold their ground.

You’re leaning back against a warm chest, his button up shirt was never actuall buttoned. He has an arm over your shoulder, tangling his long fingers with your own, his head resting atop yours because of the height difference. He laughs at something that John B had said and you smile, solely because of how comforting the laugh of him had become. As well as the soft rise and fall of his chest and the fact that if you turned your head and pushed against him, there you would find the soft rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat nestled in his chest.

His other hand is holding a beer but occasionally he’ll release the bottle with a couple of his fingers and brush them across your hair. Today it fell loose around your shoulders, wavy from the time you had spent in the water with little braids scattered throughout. When you first began braiding your hair this way you would add little silver rings in the braids to make the look fancier but had quickly abandoned the idea with how fast they would fall out and get lost during your excursions with the Pogues.

Kiara says something and John B swats at her but you’re not entirely sure what she had said. You’re too lost in the way that JJ’s fingers are dragging down your wrist and playing with the different string and twine bracelets around your wrist. One of which JJ had made for you, it was probably the worst, design wise, that was on your wrist but it meant the most to you and it held up.

JJ takes another swig of his beer and then groans when he finds it empty. You giggle at his exasperation and push yourself up from your spot on the ground. You rotate to one side, your body having locked up and become stiff, and then the other.

You pluck the beer can from his fingers and then bend and press your lips to his. His fingers slide into your hair and he pulls you in, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he deepens the kiss for just a second before turning you around in the direction of the drinks. His hands linger on your hips and you know that he’s admiring his view before you knock his hands off your hips and stick your tongue out at him.

“Beautiful” He throws in your direction and you flush.

You pick your way across the sand in the direction of the cooler, suddenly feeling the urge to get a drink for yourself as well as your boyfriend. A cooler breeze blows though your hair and swirls around your body. Goosebumps immediately show up after the path that the breeze had taken. You’re wearing a black crop top and denim festival shorts, a bandana around the wrist opposite from the bracelets.

You’ll have to steal your boyfriends shirt, knowing he’d give it to you without a mind. Being that he was so warm all the time, he wouldn’t notice the cool breeze.

When you get to the table there’s a Kook boy there.

“Hey baby!” He quips.

You wince, clearly he didn’t know about your relationship with JJ... or maybe he did and that’s why he was trying to use a nickname like that.

“Just two beers” You say, as politely as possible, trying not to cause any problems with any kooks.

He glances around, trying to figure out where you had come from.

“Are you new here?” He asks and you shake your head.

He reaches below the table and grabs two beers then pops open one and hands it to you. “Want to come hang out with me and my friends?”

And if he didnt have such a douche bag personality he may have been a decent looking boy. You smile at him again politely, “I’ve got to get back to my boyfriend”

A muscle in his cheek twitches and reaches for you bottle, grasps it for a fraction of a second and then pulls back and hands you the second beer. “Okay okay, I get it. See you around?”

You nod and quickly head back to your boyfriend, settling back into his arms. You hand him his beer and then raise yours to your lips. The strangeness of the previous situation is weighing on you and you down the beer in almost two sessions. John B is ogling you, very confused as to why you have suddenly decided to chug your drink and JJ is laughing and cheering you on.

Normally you can hold your alcohol pretty well, but today the world is already spinning. You feel fuzzy and giggly and you suddenly have to pee. “Ive gotta peeeeeee” You say, turning your head and literally licking JJ’s cheek. He swats at you and pushes you in the direction of the woods. Normally he offers to come with you but today he’s engrossed in his conversation with Pope and just lets you go.

You stumble into the trees, giggling and running your fingertips across the bark. You’re stumbling farther into the woods than normal. Normally you just go in far enough to squat and pee where nobody can see you but you’re so entranced with the way the world is spinning, it’s just so pretty.

“Hi again pretty girl.” You spin, confused. And see the boy that had given you the beer. You should be suspicious but you’re just giggling, bent over at the waist.

He moves closer, and then you feel his hand in your hair. You try to jerk upwards but the world is slowing now, it shouldn’t be. You had only had one beer, something doesn’t add up here but you can’t think, your brain is moving too slowly and you’re sinking to the ground and he’s getting so close. And then... the world blacks out.

~~~

When you come to you aren’t sure where you are. It’s cold, freezing actually, and you can hear a voice yelling your name.

“Y/N! Where are you?!”

The voice belongs to your boyfriend, you would know that voice anywhere despite how slow your brain is working.

The edges of your vision is blurred and then you hear your name again and JJ is running towards you.

There’s a look of horror on his face but you’re drifting back out of consciousness again and he’s gone.

~~~

JJ runs toward his girlfriend, his mind racing. He can see her lying on the ground, she’s not conscious and he can see that. But he can also see the bruises that have appeared on her skin, he can see that her shorts are gone and she’s lying bare. He knows this isn’t her doing but he can’t bring together the words to his mind of what this is. He knows she’s been drugged and used. But he doesn’t want to believe it. He wants to pretend this is a nightmare, where he can just wake up.

He’s used to being knocked down, he’s used to the abuse and the horribleness of life but he’d always been able to protect you, up until now.

She’s been... she’s been raped. And he knows it. He rushes to you, tries to cover you as best as possible before he’s running back to the pogues, yelling for their help.

~~~

You wake up again in JJ’s bed. It’s familiar and warm, but the effects of the alcohol have worn off now and your brain is finally working and you’re sewing together the pieces of what had happened.

It comes rushing back in a flash, you don’t remember it actually happening but you remember getting the beer from the Kook, you know that he had grabbed your drink unnecessarily. You remember heading into the trees to pee, and then losing consciousness. And then you remember JJ calling for you, seeing him run to you and you remember the feelings of your body and it clicks in you.

And you let out a rough sob. Bending over the side of the bed and dry heaving as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

The door flies open and your boyfriend emerges in the doorway and you sob again, scrambling away from him. He’s your boyfriend and you love him but you can’t be around him, not with how violated you feel. Not with the way you can’t even look at him, hear his breathing, see the way his body is moving.

This Kook had ruined you, and left you to pick up the pieces. No man or woman should ever do such a thing as this. You’d just never thought that it could ever happen to you.

[danny-chase]

Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.

Fic under cut

“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.

“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.

Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.

Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.

There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –

Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.

A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.

He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.

Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.

He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.

Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.

Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”

It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.

He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.

Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.

But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”

Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”

“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.

Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.

The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”

“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”

Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”

Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”

“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.

“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.

He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.

“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”

Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.

“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.

“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.

Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.

“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.

“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.

“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.

A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.

Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.

Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”

“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.

“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.

“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.

“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.

“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.

She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.

Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.

And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.

“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”

“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”

Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.

“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.

He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.

By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.

Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.

Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.

It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.

She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.

Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.

Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.

Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.

She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.

“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.

“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.

“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.

Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”

Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”

“What.”

“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.

He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.

“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.

“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.

‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.

“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”

“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.

“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.

It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.

“Thanks.”

“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”

He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.

His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”

Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.

[meeko-mar]

Leak day is approaching, how we feeling? 

I’ve had this bouncing around my drafts for a little while, a little idea that hooked itself into my mind. Who’s up for some BKDK Healing/Recovery Arc fluff?? 

I'm still deeply hoping for some slower, softer chapters to follow this VERY INTENSE war arc. I know a lot of ideas out there are operating under the concept of the boys healing TOGETHER in a hospital room, but like hear me out... 

What if they start out at the hospital SEPERATELY and have to agonizingly wait until they’re better healed before they see each other? What if they can’t stand to wait any longer?

Spoilers for like...chapter 285 and beyond.

The nurses at the hospital had of course heard of Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who’d won the broadcasted UA Sports Festival. They had an inkling of the student’s more...aggressive tendencies. They steeled themselves for a potentially frustrating time managing and healing the reactive teenager.

The Doctors had done their best with his wounds in surgery as soon as he was admitted, got him stable with some much-needed blood transfusions, and sent him to rest and recover under the watch of a handful of night shift nurses. He was expected to wake sometime in the morning. 

And yet, it was still the deep dark of night, when a tell-tale yell erupted from within the room with his name scribbled hastily onto the nameplate. 

By the time the closest nurse turned the corner into the room, Katsuki was already pushing himself up with his good arm. Gritting his teeth, he swore aloud as stars popped in his blurry vision...but persisted in trying to lever himself out of bed. IV lines swung and tugged dangerously as he struggled.

The nurse rushed to the bedside as he tried to lean out the bed, but swayed from the vertigo. Pain exploded in his wounds, it felt like white hot coals had been dumped right into his gut and his left side.

“Young man, you need to lay down for now, your wounds..!” 

“D-don’t tell me what to do!” Katsuki growled, in almost a feral state. Despite the drugs in his system, he was still in survival mode. His crimson eyes landed on her, still unfocused, delirious. 

“Deku--Where...” He demanded again, voice cracking in desperation, still supported on one violently shaking arm. He squinted and blinked frantically; Why couldn’t he see straight?? 

The nurse grasped his good shoulder and eased the student back down into bed. Katsuki’s strong frame was resistant, but weakened by his injuries and lack of stamina. Even his willpower wavered with his consciousness.

“We can talk in the morning,” She assured in a calming voice. “But you need to sleep now, and stay put.”

Katsuki’s back connected again with the hospital bed, and it felt to him like it was grabbing him, keeping him there, and pulling him down into some dense fog. As his mind quickly began to drift, he wondered if the woman above him had some sort of sleep-aid Quirk. He blinked at the ceiling tiles and dimmed lights above, as the nurse adjusted his dosage, checked his IV, and logged notes on his condition. Another nurse hurried in, and they spoke quietly.

“What the hell...” Katsuki trailed off. 

Both nurses flitted from the room, and Katsuki was alone in the darkness as it swallowed him.

“...De...ku...”

---

Katsuki didn’t have any idea how long it was that he was asleep. But as his eyes tried to flutter open again, they were met with soft light. And a silence that was almost jarring, after the battle, and after the frantic nightmares. 

Nightmares...Aerial battles, explosions of green light...bursts of red....Black obsidian tendrils tearing through the air...

With a turn of his stomach, his eyes suddenly shot open, once again looking at a hospital room ceiling. Daylight was filtered out by thick curtains, and not far away, his parents seemed to have been keeping a vigil, each occupying a chair, leaning against each other in slumber. 

His sight became a bit more focused and adjusted to the light, but his breathing intensified. He looked to his other side, and found he was in a private room. The door was shut at the moment; he was boxed in. 

A flash of green energy played across his mind again....And a sick, charred hand that had reached out...

He felt a pain blossom in his abdomen as his breathing continued to spike.

He heard Deku’s yells in his mind again, and he once more felt the intense need to get up. His unrestricted hand clamped around the guards on the side of the bed, hoping for an anchor. Gritting his teeth against the fire in his gut, he tried to pull himself forward  

“Hey...Hey!” He tried to yell, but it came out so hoarse, he growled and forced more of his pained breath into it. “Old hag!” 

Mitsuki blinked awake, and jumped to see Katsuki staring back at her. Masaru awoke as well. and breathed a sigh of relief. Something twinkled in his son’s eyes that he was certain he’d never seen there before.

“Katsuki! Sit back down!! You’ll reopen your wounds!!” Mitsuki yells, surging to her feet.

“Don’t give a shit! Where the Hell is he?” Katsuki raged, once again pushing up with his good arm. His chest shuddered with hyperventilating breaths, and he felt as if it was threatening to tear him back apart. “Deku...Where’s Deku!” 

“Deku?” His father asked, a bit confused. 

“...Inko’s boy?” Mitsuki supplied, looking at Masaru as well. “Inko came to the hospital too, but...We haven’t seen her.” 

“Dammit!!” Katsuki practically yelled, and tossed a venomous look towards the door. His fingers flexed with an overwhelming urge to blow the damn thing off its hinges. “What about All Might?? Or Half and Half, or fucking anyone who knows what the fuck’s going on?!” 

“You settle the Hell down, brat, or I’ll make you!” Mitsuki loomed over him, a hand clamped tightly on the top of his head and forcing him back against his pillows. Katsuki glared at her, teeth bared and nostrils flaring, absolutely hating how weak he was to resist. “You’re damn lucky that whatever it was didn’t hit anything vital, but you almost bled out on the battlefield! You’re not going anywhere!! Don’t be a damn idiot!”

Katsuki tuned the rest of her words out. He was pretty sure she was turning to his father and going off on just how fucked this entire mission was, the insanity of putting teenagers who were clearly unprepared for the level of destruction that was involved...How none of them seemed to be properly informed of what the kids had been getting into. 

They might have been discussing the prospect of Katsuki even going back to U.A. at this point, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t muster up a single iota of a crap to give over that right now. 

He stared past his parents, at that damned door, waiting. Waiting with clenched fists, once again confined to laying against his uncomfortable pillows. His wounds were still too painful to move even if he wanted to. While somewhere out there...

Deku was somewhere out in that hospital, condition unknown. Red eyes glinted with moisture. 

Come on. 

Someone. Anyone. Come through that damn door...

He couldn’t believe how damn desperate he felt.

Tell me he’s safe. 

---

Katsuki was loathe to comply with any procedures and check ups the nurses had to run on him for the days to follow. He grew more and more aggravated the longer it went on, the more they told him to wait. It was a developing situation, and there were so, so many civilians and Heroes in the hospital from that battle, the nurses didn’t have any time to prioritize seeking out any information on Izuku’s condition for him.

He crossed in and out of sleep all day and night. He couldn’t control it, between the pain and the meds, and even the sheer boredom of not having anything to do but agonize. He could only logically badger his parents so much concerning information he knew they didn’t have. 

Sometimes sleep was a relief. A chance to pass time without thinking so deeply about everything. 

Sometimes, it just gave him more nightmares and stress, and woke him with another hit of desperation to find closure for the battle he’d survived, confirmation that his best friends had made it out alive too. 

News finally came when he woke up early in the next morning.

All Might appeared in the door way with eyes that seemed more cast in shadow than usual. Katsuki’s crimson eyes locked him and he immediately tried once more to pull himself up and forward. After the initial establishing conversation, All Might pleaded for privacy from his parents with a deep bow, and as they left the room, All Might drew himself back up. Blue eyes couldn’t quite meet Katuski’s. 

“Start talking.” Katsuki grunted, and All Might pulled up a chair. 

---

Izuku was lost in a long dream. 

He was trying desperately to find the Vestiges again... He either couldn’t reach them, or...they were gone for good. He couldn’t quite remember, and the answer was so slippery it kept evading him. 

Sometimes he would be minutely aware of what was going on around him in the physical world. Doctors. Nurses. Probes, needles, foreign hands.  

Recovery Girl’s voice...Mom’s voice. 

On the other hand, Nana’s voice. The First. Tomura Shigaraki. All For One.

He couldn’t quite grasp either side, and would be pulled once again into the dreams. It was as if he were stuck on a dizzying pendulum. 

He gave in and floated for a while. 

--- 

Hours passed, and little changed for Izuku. But as he seemed to surface back into the world, bits and pieces came back and fell into place in his mind. All of the things that had transpired. His slumbering mind could begin to process it, and make sense of it. Little by little. 

By the time emerald eyes cracked open, Izuku had realized, he must have been asleep for quite some time. He had enough experience to recognize that he’d landed in the hospital, but felt powerless to assess how bad it was. He still felt hauntingly unattached to any of his limbs for the time being, no strength left to attempt to move them. He must have been heavily drugged by this point.

He wondered about Shigaraki, if he was also reduced to a quasi-sense of being, forced to lay low, let his mangled body regenerate. He prayed that the villain would be in such a phase for a while. Izuku knew there was no way he, or any of the heroes, could handle a rematch. Maybe not for quite a while, even.

A fleeting thought, however, as it was quickly overtaken by an urgent need to know the outcomes of so many....too many, of his friends, teachers and allies. Civilians, even. Aizawa, Gran Torino, Endeavour, all injured in battle. Shoto, his dear friend, and....

Kacchan.

The realization made a spike of anxiety lance through his chest like a knife.

Dear god, Kacchan. Was he...

“Ka...cchan--” Deku murmured, suddenly, feeling the tears pooling in his eyes. His poor mother, keeping a vigil by his side, leapt up and pressed a soft hand to his forehead, quivering voice crying with encouragement for her son. 

“Mom, he...” Izuku whimpered, finally focusing on something for the first time, in his mother’s eyes. “Kacchan...The others...I couldn’t...” 

As quickly as it had come, his resolve was gone, and his broken body wracked with sobs. His determination that had held him through the battle before losing consciousness, the rage, the adrenaline, was gone, and all that remained was the heartache that came from such destruction, from seeing his mentors and friends torn down one by one.

The image of blood suspended in air, and a shadow of a figure falling towards the Earth, stained his vision. 

---

Days into Katsuki’s stay at the hospital, All Might visited again. The man still had so many new lines on his face, though he was heartened to see Katsuki, determined as he was, recovering and gaining focus quickly. Though with the focus, came that trademark, Bakugou impatience.

“He’s still in surgery!?” Katsuki yelled.

“More like, in and out of Surgery. They can only do so much at one time, even Recovery Girl could barely work with him, his stamina is almost non-existent right now...” All Might sighed. “And, there’s no shortage of other patients for her, unfortunately.” He said sadly, sipping a cup of tea with a white knuckled grip. 

“That bad, huh.” Katsuki sneered, looking away from the man. Softly, he muttered, “Fuckin’ Deku.” 

All Might smiled a deeply sad smile. 

It had sounded spiteful, to the untrained ear, but by now, he could recognize how deep Katsuki’s concern really went.

---

One week after the incident at Jakku found Katsuki well enough to finally feel the cold tile beneath his bare feet again. Short walks were in order, as he was allowed to pace in his room every once in a while. The taste of regained autonomy was amazing, but he still felt the need to rest after very short walks, the wounds in his core still on the mend. Steps were small, and few, but Katsuki was feeling better for the improvement. 

He leaned against the edge of his bed, muscles still stiff. Left arm in a sling, and right hand gently set on his stomach, he breathed deeply as he was able, assessing what his body was telling him.

He was gradually getting better, and the next goal was finally heading out that door. Fierce red eyes could have shattered the wood of the door, now left open just a crack. They couldn’t keep him in here forever.

---

“Good news,” All Might had told him, looking a little brighter. “They’ve moved Young Midoriya to the recovery ward. They’ve done everything they can for the boy, now all that’s left is to see how his limbs heal.” 

Finally, Katsuki had thought. He was getting tired of waiting for the nerd to recover.

He scowled as he stalked out that door, and into the hospital hallway. His mended wounds still throbbed with each tender step, but the pain was becoming more and more dull everyday. He was itching to be able to get into physical therapy, and recuperate his body back into peak condition. 

The ache in his shoulder gave him the most unease...His arms and shoulders needed to be up to taking the brunt of his Quirk. There was no time to lose in recovering those tissues, and he locked away any fears of never living up to his previous output, never being able to surpass it...He just couldn’t think of that right now.

Slippers scuffed against clean linoleum. Around the corner and nine doors down, All Might had said. He rounded the corner, and came, abruptly, to a stop, all inner thoughts ceasing. Crimson eyes had fallen on a figure ahead of him, and locked, his jaw dropping just slightly. 

There before him, clearly in a state of dizziness, was Izuku himself. Of course, he seemed to be muttering to himself, staring intently at the name plates of each room he was passing.

Their eyes met.  

His arms were bound up in thick casts once again, and in slings over his stomach, and bandages covered almost his entire torso in lieu of any shirt. Izuku stared back, large emerald eyes tired and glistening. He seemed to tremble at the sight of Katsuki, and the moisture in his eyes threatened to over flow. 

“K-Kacchan,” He whimpered, blinking back the sudden tears, unable to wipe them away. 

Katsuki's body suddenly unlocked, and he marched up on the other boy, as hard and as fast as his body would permit. 

“What the fuck, Deku?!” Katsuki scolded. He planted a palm on the top of Izuku’s green head of hair, tilting his tear-stained face up to look at him. “Damn nerd, What the Hell are you doing out of bed?!” 

“Kacchan,” Izuku sniffed, staring up into crimson eyes without an ounce of restraint on his emotions. “Y-you’re out of bed too...Are you okay?” 

Katsuki twitched at the question, a reflex reaction now due to long years of rejection to the nerd’s selfless worries. 

“Don’t you switch this around! I’m not the one who just got out of surgery!” Katsuki barked, ignorant to any stares from passersby they were drawing. “You shouldn’t be able to move, dammit!!”

“It’s okay, I mean, my legs feel totally fine!” Izuku argued weakly, even as his legs seemed to quiver just slightly beneath him. For the first time in the exchange, a hint of a dismissive, but pained grin tugged at his lips. There was still a very visible split on his bottom lip. 

“That’s not the point, you--!!” Bakugou growled behind gritted teeth, fingers twitching impulsively under the messy nest of hair. How was he ever going to get through that thick skull of Deku’s??

“Please, Kacchan,” Izuku urged, “I know, I shouldn’t be out here yet, but I had to know for sure....that you were ok...I thought I’d really lost you...” He was beginning to choke on his words. 

“They told you I was fine, so why go out of your damn way?! Why get outta bed when you can barely stand up straight, huh??” Katsuki retorted.

“I’m not explaining how much more it’d hurt if you were gone!” Izuku cried, and raised his head against Katsuki’s hand, cheeks flushed. He shook his head just gently, feeling a headache blossoming. “It’s not logical, I was...I was afraid, okay?! I have nightmares every time I close my eyes, telling me that Shigaraki kill-... took you away, or Todoroki wasn’t able to help you in time. It keeps replaying in my mind, and...And if it hadn’t been for me...” 

He was gulping in air at this point, the words themselves seeming to scar him as he acknowledged their effect on him. Katsuki was unsurprised by the tears flowing anew, but something about the tremor in Izuku’s voice, shook him.

“I had to see you. And if my legs would work, then...There’s no way I could stop myself.” Although tired, his eyes glinted with that stubborn edge. It was the same, almost scared look of determination that had looked at him in the dark hallways of their first training exercise all those months ago...The first time they’d fought.

Wide crimson eyes held steady, and he noticed the shadows under the boy’s eyes, shadows of bruises that lingered against his freckles. 

The hand that was on Izuku’s head suddenly shifted to the back of his head and he pulled gently, until Izuku’s forehead connected with Katsuki’s uninjured shoulder. Katsuki’s strong arm almost cradled him there in a half-embrace. A moment’s hesitation, and then his fingers curled around the deep, unruly green locks. Not to hurt, or threaten, never again... 

“Idiot... Idiot. How the fuck do you think I feel?!” Katsuki muttered shakily against Izuku’s bowed head, his features furrowing. “Don’t you ever...fight like that again.” He bit his lip ferociously as it quivered, before any more words could spill out. 

Izuku felt tense for a moment, adjusting to this strange new reality. In time, he eased, leaning into Katsuki’s offered shoulder, feeling the warmth of the arm curled around him. He felt a pang of guilt for being so overjoyed that Katsuki was here with him when so much had been lost...And another wave of surprise and contemplation as Katsuki’s words pinged around in his head. Even so, he dared to smile a broken smile into Katsuki’s shoulder, where no one in the world could see.

He only wished that his own hands were free so he could reciprocate the gentle gesture that was so exceedingly rare from the blonde, but so comforting. 

Katsuki grimaced, but made no objection when tears began to soak the fabric of his shirt. The weight and the warmth of Izuku’s head against him was oddly comforting to him. A quivering sigh of relief escaped him, his cheek buried in green curls. 

Reluctantly, the thought dawned on him; This is okay. Whatever this is...was worth the damn wait. 

Turns out the wait was actually much, much longer than the time spent in the hospital. 

---

*BONUS* owo

I DID happen to doodle the moment that really locked this into my mind and made me have to write this; I literally drew these at slow moments at work on receipt paper. (scanned a tad bit out of chrono. order though)

ALSO A NOTE: 

I happened to fixate on this idea of Kacchan always grabbing Deku by the head(there was a post with a lot of this floating around not too long ago) and I’m convinced it’s part of his own unique language. You may have noticed, I threw in the little detail of contrast with how his mother in fact does the same thing, but forcefully, and exerting dominance over her son. Kacchan uses it this time to communicate with Deku, but it ends up being more gentle and as a comfort. 

YES PARELELLS. 

If I ever have time and inclination, I would love to redo these little doodles, honestly = u =  

ANYWAY thank  you if you’ve made it this far, I hope you liked :D

[mcmactictac]

Always Gold by Radical Face is a c! crime boys song please let me elaborate.

First of all, Welcome home son by radical face is a c! Tommy and c! Techno song. So as an sbi enthusiast I think it’s fun to give them songs by the same artist who have very similar vibes. Radical face has a wonderful job of calmly showing intense emotion. When you listen to the words in a lot of their songs it’s very emotional, but you can also tune out and just listen to the music. I’m working my way through their discography but they just radiate fanon sbi vibes. Same energy as a piece of fanart I saw a long time ago with Tommy sleeping on Wilburs lap as techno leans against them. Just that calm and relaxed sense of love and belonging.

Anyways analysis time woo let’s crank out some lyrics. Honestly the lyrics are so perfect throughout I’m basically going to include most of the song oops.

“We were tight knit boys, Brothers in more than name. You would kill for me And knew that I'd do the same”

Already off to a good start. I mean the tight knit part is obvious, like they’re both incredibly close with each other, especially at the beginning. Brothers in more than name?? Canonically Wilbur and Tommy aren’t siblings but they still SHARE that brotherly bond they still think of each other of family after everything. “You would kill for me and knew that I’d do the same” at the start? When they’re protecting their country together?? Yeah because they’re FAMILY they care about each other so much.

“And it cut me sharp, Hearing you'd gone away. But everything goes away, Yeah everything goes away”

Do I need to explain this one. I’m taking gone away as a reference to death here, like he’s up and left Tommy, and suddenly he’s just. Gone. Also the everything goes away is a great way to show the beginning of c! Tommys trauma, how he always feels like good things are going to be taken away from him. No matter what he has, his friends, his country, his discs, it’s all going to be gone eventually. Good things never seem to last for him.

“But I'm going to be here until I'm nothing but bones in the ground. And I was there, when you grew restless”

Wilbur talking about lmanberg as “here”. He knows he’s never going to leave it, the country he built. He lived there and that’s where he’ll die. The captain always goes down with his ship. The restless line reminds me of pogtopia, like Tommy watching as Wilbur started to lose it, started to grow more and more unstable. He was there for everything, the good and the bad even as he watched his brother descend into this downwards spiral and not being able to help him.

“Left in the dead of night. And I was there, when three months later. You were standing in the door all beat and tired and I stepped aside”

Now there’s two ways we could take this one. We could take a brief tour to sbi land and make this about Tommys exile, like he left exile at night after dream blew it all up, and he ended up at technos. And when Techno finally found him there it’s still that same kid he knew before who is just tired and needing someone, and so he lets him in. OR we could make this in reference to Wilburs revival. The three months later would be a reference to the time passed before Wilbur was revived. Now I could make this soft or I could make this angsty so I provide multiple options. 1. Tommy steps aside so Wilbur can see the sunrise, see the works that he’s missed and truly enjoy it again (not canon but shh) 2. I stepped aside but it’s Tommy moving away from Wilbur. Going no, you hurt me and I’m sorry that you’re suffering but I can’t be here for you anymore. 3. Or we got that nice metaphorical door of Tommys life and tommy seeing the brother he lost and choosing to let him “inside”, back into his life despite everything.

“We were opposites at birth I was steady as a hammer, No one worried cause they knew just where I'd be. And they said you were the crooked kind, And that you'd never have no worth But you were always gold to me”

Tommy is steady! Tommy wants the same things, he wants to protect his country, his friends and his discs. Everyone always knew what Tommy wanted and he was very open about what he cared about so everyone knew what was going on with him. Referring to Wilbur as the crooked one, the one who causes problems by creating a drug van, starting a war, blowing up his country. He had no worth because he thought so little of himself that he had to replace his personality with his actions. But tommy still sees him for who he is and up to Pogtopia that’s his big brother. That’s the man he would follow anywhere and trusts his whole world with. Wilbur was always special to tommy, even when he wasn’t to others.

“And back when we were kids, We swore we knew the future. And our words would take us half way 'round the world. But I never left this town and you never saw New York”

My main focus here is on the “but I never left this town” Wilbur always stayed in L’manberg, till the very end. He could never go anywhere else, and he didn’t. This also relates back to another song on my crimeboys list, two birds by Regina Spektor. Wilbur is never going to let go of L’manberg. It’s a part of who he is and he’s never going to be able to “leave” it. The you never saw New York line could be tommy because who knows Tommys plans before l’manberg. Then he got so wrapped up in this country he built that it became his everything, and he never got a chance to do anything else because of the effect it had on him. (I know this is stretching canon bear with me I like angst)

“And we ain't ever cross the sea. But I am fine with where I am now, This home is home, and all that I need. But for you, this place is shame. But you can blame me when there's no one left to blame. Oh I don't mind”

So many thoughts I don’t even know if I can make this coherent. For you this place is shame for Wilbur ESPECIALLY. It’s a reminder of the explosion he created, the hurt he caused the people who’s lives he ruined. He wants it to stand for all it was before, but he has to think about how it’s a source of hurt for so many people and how he sees that as his fault. I don’t think I can form coherent thoughts on the rest of this, enjoy

“All my life i’ve never known where you've been. There were holes in you, The kind that I could not mend. And I heard you say Right when you left that day, Does everything go away? Yeah, everything goes away. But I'm going to be here till forever, So just call when you're around.”

Final paragraph folks!! Ive never known where you’ve been! Tommy can never get a read on Wilbur and his emotions because he internalizes and hides them! He’s never going to be able to know and understand because Wilbur won’t let him! Holes in you the kind that I could not mend? YES. Wilbur is mentally ill and tommy cannot fix that, and he shouldn’t have to be the one responsible for helping Wilbur. Right when you left that day, the 16th, the day he left for the last time. Another reminder to tommy that everything leaves, nothing is guaranteed. L’manberg is gone and so is Wilbur. If we look at this pre revival, I’m gonna be here til forever could be Wilbur at L’manberg. He died there, and that’s where he’s always going to stay. He might be gone, and L’manberg might be gone but they’ll still always be there in spirit (get it spirit. Ghost. Ghostbur building L’manberg? Anyways...)

Mhm that was longer than I meant it to be I am working on multiple more dsmp playlists and I will share once I’m done and maybe do some more of these cause I find them fun. I also did not edit this at all so sorry if this is incoherent

[ronsenburg]

i saw this post and IMMEDIATELY started writing an essay, so I moved it here so as not to clutter up someone else’s post...........

it absolutely blows my mind that, today in 2021, i honestly can’t remember what’s canon from the turnabout serenade case, what i read in a fanficition, and what is my own personal HC. like, it’s been more than a decade since i played the case for the first time and it’s probably been 5ish years since the last time i played AJ (definitely forgot to play it again before writing youngblood which is.... contributing to this) so i really don’t know if what goes on in my head is accurate, but, over the years, i’ve come up with a Lot of Thoughts, which i’ll discuss below. 

tldr; it’s all about power (the desire for, the subversion of, the need to maintain), but if you’d like the specifics, here you go:

daryan: i think the explanation that he did it for “the money” is a line. please don’t mistake me, daryan is an asshole and a murderer, im not discounting that, but in court ive always thought that he was playing the part that everyone- especially klavier- is expecting of him. he’s the bad guy. might as well make it a finale for the books.

i’ve always seen daryan and klavier as opposite sides of the same coin when it comes to family and career aspirations. where i imagine klavier came from a well off and well loved family before his parents died, i see daryan from a working class, difficult upbringing. i read a few papers on the psychology of children/parenting style of police officers and decided early on that daryan’s dad was also a cop. his mother is either dead or (more likely) left them early on. dad coped by working a little too hard, gambling/drinking a little too much, and was overall not around a lot and kind of an authoritarian/controller when he was. it left daryan with a lot of anger he had to cope with, about what it means to be a cop, the idea of a “just cause” and the ends justifying the means, and an issue with authority (which is laughable, considering what a bully he turned out to be. sometimes we emulate our parents unintentionally; it’s the only thing we have to model our behavior on). so daryan started off at a disadvantage. klavier started off loved and supported and surrounded by expensive belongings, but the death of his parents and the subsequent emotional and financial abuse by his newly appointed guardian/brother left him in a similar place by the time he and daryan met. i think it was probably the foundation for their bond, and i think it’s why klavier decided to become a prosecutor instead of following in his brother’s footsteps and why daryan ultimately decided to enter law enforcement as well. i think they had a lot of optimistic, idealistic thoughts on being better than the people that hurt them, on utilizing the law to make the world a better place. i don’t think klavier ever conceived that kristoph could have wanted him in the prosecutors office as another pawn to play, and i don’t think he realized how fluid daryan’s morality could be.

shipping alert—you guys know me, im crazy for the idea of a “best friends to on again off again lovers to tenuous coworkers to bitterly disappointed in but still harboring feelings for the other person despite being on opposite sides” dynamic between daryan and klavier. i honestly can’t separate the ship from the case and im sorry about it. if you read youngblood you know that i think daryan started to resent klavier pretty early on, when they were still together, when the band was still successful, because klavier was able to move forward and work through the issues of his past while daryan was seemingly stuck. yes, daryan had made detective and the gavinners were a hit, he’d risen above his initial social standing and thrown off the control his father, he had money and fame and a future. but everything he had was because of klavier. daryan needed klavier, emotionally, morally, financially. but even when klavier was professing his love for daryan, both privately and in the form of chart topping songs, he didn’t need daryan. it was obvious (and of course, healthy, but how do children of abuse learn what a healthy relationship looks like without help? especially when the only relationships you’ve ever had are codependent and, in some ways, just as toxic?) and so things spiraled. daryan got possessive and angry again and klavier got distant and they broke up and got back together and broke up and didn’t get back together but kept ending up back in each other’s arms for comfort and for support and because how the hell do you move on when the person you’ve been in love with since you were 15 is sitting next to you on a tour bus and is also your partner in a homicide case and singing songs he wrote about you on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans?

okay, shipping glasses off, sorry. but no matter how you look at their relationship, daryan’s promotion out of homicide was probably the most distance they’d had from each other in years, as it removed a large chunk of the daily “working relationship” aspect. and without klavier there to act as a moral compass, it was likely easier to slip back into his earlier thoughts about what constitutes justice and his intense hatred of being pushed around by someone who has more power than you. so enter the chief justice with a son who is sick, dying even, but can’t get the medicine he needs because there’s a government out there telling them no. The reasons are arbitrary: the medicine could be used as a poison and can’t be found anywhere else so it might come back to bite the country in the ass if it’s misused by criminals. newsflash: pretty much all medicine is poisonous if it isn’t used correctly, should we stop using penicillin entirely because some people might be allergic to it? they’ve essentially condemned a whole bunch of people to death because they’re worried about their reputation. and that doesn’t sit well with daryan, who is caught up remembering the bullshit justifications his dad would spout when he knocked him around, that kristoph would give when withholding every single penny of money klavier was entitled to until he agreed to do what kristoph wanted. it isn’t right, it isn’t fair and unfair laws shouldn’t have to be upheld, especially when they’re the unfair laws of a country you most definitely did not swear to uphold and protect. it was never about money, though daryan agrees to take it when the chief offers it to him, more for his comfort level than for daryan’s need or desire. it’s about justice and putting a bully in it’s place with a (seemingly) victimless crime that should be so easy given his role in the international division of criminal affairs and klavier’s sudden hard on for the country of borginia. seriously, how could this have been any more straightforward? daryan is capable of murder, though. all cops are. and if it came down to a “them or me” shootout, of course he’d pull the trigger. 

machi: when you come from nothing, the desire to have something of your own is overwhelming. the idea that machi is famous and financially set is disingenuous; he is not individually famous, he is Lamiroir’s “blind” pianist. yes, she views him as a son and seems to care deeply for him, but his main purpose in her life is to perpetuate a lie. machi has been abandoned before; what will happen to him if lamiroir suddenly remembers who she was in the past? what if she has a family and a true son of her own and has no use for him? what if their secret is found out and the public rejects him for his role in it? he is 14. what does he know about being provided for? about contracts and trust funds and royalties? he ended up in an orphanage originally because he was unwanted, and that led to a life of poverty and hardship. abandonment issues are rooted in fear and are rarely logical. i find it far easier to believe that machi did it for the money, but more for the power money might have given him towards independence in an unfeeling and capitalist world.

kristoph: i won’t get into this, because this is supposed to be about daryan and machi and the guitar’s serenade, and kristoph is not really involved in that at all. but i think everything that kristoph has ever done in the game, good or bad, is rooted in a pathological need to constantly be in control. i think that kristoph and klavier both have very intense personalities that they have sought to control over the course of their lives for the sake of their careers. kristoph believes that to be a good lawyer, you need to play your cards close to your chest, that to show your hand is to expose a weakness that the enemy can exploit, that to show no weaknesses at all places you in a position of power. klavier believes that to show his true self, to display his weaknesses and fears to the public, would result only in their rejection. as such, they both wear masks of their own creation even under the most intense of pressures: kristoph as pleasant and calm, klavier as magnetic and dynamic. note the primary difference in their rational? klavier wants to be wanted, while kristoph wants power. and power corrupts, after all. once you have it, what could be more overwhelming than the idea that you might lose it all? it can drive even the most rational people to commit acts of passionate irrationality in the name of holding on to that power. and kristoph has so many pieces involved in his strategy to maintain.  

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 17

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Pairing: DamonxOc, TylerxOc, ElijahxOc and KlausxOc endgame. Warnings: Miscarriage. 

Katie woke up just before sun rise, a burning hunger in her stomach. "God, when was the last time I ate something?" she sighed as she slid out of bed. When she opened her door, intending on asking a nurse where a vending machine or something was, she saw that the night nurse wasn't at the desk. With a sigh she turned to go back into her room, but the scent of something delicious hit her nose and she found herself following it without thinking.

The room her nose led her too was a patient's room. No food containers of any kind were anywhere in sight, so determined to find the source of the irresistible smell she looked around to make sure there weren't any nurses around, then walked into the room. When her eyes landed on an almost full blood bag hanging on an IV pole things came rushing back to her.

The image of Katherine's hands on each side of her head and the sickening crack of her neck breaking came to mind making her realize that Katherine killed her with Damon's blood in her system. "Son of a bitch." She gasped quietly and stumbled back hitting her hips against the round table in the corner of the room. The elderly man in the bed stirred, but didn't wake up.

The burning hunger intensified, and she grabbed the edge of the table behind her, gripping it so tight her knuckles turned white. "No, no, no." she whispered as she squeezed her eyes closed and tucked her chin to her chest, fighting the urge to just sink her teeth into the man. The sound of his blood, pulsing through his veins was way too loud and she opened her eyes and looked at his neck. She bit her lip and glanced up at the open door of the room. No one was around. So she walked over to the sleeping man and whispered, "I'm so sorry." then closed the plastic clamp on his IV hose, the one on the blood bag then disconnected the man from the bag and slipped it off of the pole. 

She slipped it into the hospital robe that she wore over the open backed gown and left the room. "What are you doing up?" The nurse that was now at the nurses desk asked as Katie walked by.

"I was just looking for a vending machine." Katie told her with an innocent tone.

"Breakfast will be brought around at six. You can eat then." The nurse told her so Katie gave the older blond a nod and went into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"Oh god..." she sighed as she sat down on her bed and pulled the blood bag out of her robe. A sick feeling swept over her when she remembered the news she received the previous day. "The baby…" she whispered, not knowing if her baby was dead too. With an arm wrapped around her stomach she stared down at the cold blood bag in her hand.

She knew she should call Damon or Stefan or even Elena or Bonnie and let them know what was going on, but she knew this was a decision only she could make. But how was she supposed to make it? If she became a vampire she would live forever. It was a huge perk, but she would never live a normal life. If she didn't drink the blood she would die for good. Tears started pouring down her face as she realized there was no winning in this situation. What if she turned and became a completely different person? What if she started murdering people?

"I don't want to die." She whispered as she picked up the tube to the blood bag and undid the plastic clamp. She stared at it for what felt like half an hour before she placed the tube between her lips and sucked. Her face twisted in disgust as the coppery blood touched her tongue, but she forced herself to swallow. As soon as the blood hit her stomach she found she couldn't drink it fast enough. In half a minute the blood bag was as flat as an empty juice pouch. "I need more." She panted as she tossed the bag aside, feeling like she would die if she didn't get more blood.

Feeling a pinching sensation around her eyes she slid off the bed and moved to the mirror over the sink in the room. Veins moved under the skin below her eyes and she squeezed them shut, blowing a calming breath out of her pursed, shaking lips. "I can do this...I can do this… I've made my choice, no backing out now." she breathed out calmly. "I just...need to find more blood bags...I- ah!" Something burning her chest made her jerk her robe open to see her necklace from Damon was the source. As quickly as she could she undid the clasp and took it from around her neck. "Son of a bitch." She panted looking down at the beautiful charm dangling from the chain in her hand. A wave of sadness swept over her at the realization that she could never again wear her most cherished piece of jewelry. She tucked it into her bag that sat on the counter next to the sink as she wiped her tears.

With a deep breath she grabbed the white plastic footboard of the hospital bed and focused on calming herself and getting her thoughts prioritized. "First, compulsion test. I'll compel the nurse to get another ultrasound done and bring me another blood bag…that is if I can even compel people yet." She was talking to herself like a crazy person, but it was keeping her grounded. "Okay, let's do this." She blew a huff of air between her lips, puffing out her cheeks as she checked her eyes in the mirror. Seeing that she was okay she left the room.

Her room was right across from the nurse's station. "Hi." Katie greeted the nurse with a sweet smile then looked her in the eyes. "You're going to do whatever it takes to get an ultrasound Tech. up here to do another ultrasound and make sure my baby is okay."

"I'll do whatever it takes." The blond nurse repeated flatly, her brown eyes trained on Katie's greens.

"You're also going to bring two blood bags to my room. Lie if you have to, I don't care, just get them."

"I'll bring you blood bags." She replied like a zombie.

"Good, thank you." Katie told her with a smile then turned and went back to her room.

An hour later the nurse walked in with two blood bags that she started to hang on the IV pole, but Katie stopped her. "That won't be necessary." The nurse turned to her with a confused look. "You can just put then on the tray." She pointed to the table that slid over the bed and the nurse set them down. "When will the tech. be coming?" she asked, eager and nervous to find out if she was still pregnant.

"She is seeing a patient on the first floor then she will be in to see you." The nurse replied still a little confused as to what she was doing and why she was doing it.

"Thank you now forget that I asked you to get blood for me." Katie told her with an overly sweet smile and the nurse nodded then walked out.

Katie sipped on one of the blood bags while she waited for the ultrasound tech. She was halfway through it when she felt the veins moving under her eyes. So she got up from the chair and walked over to the sink leaning close to the mirror as she watched the veins. She saw herself wince as a dull pain radiated from her mouth through her sinuses to the rest of her head.

Suddenly the pain intensified tenfold causing her to cry out and cuss as she hit the counter with her fists. With a pain twisted face she opened her mouth and pulled back her lips to look at her teeth, but in the blink of her eyes her reflection blurred. She closed her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut and took off her glasses, keeping her eyes closed as the pain slowly faded. When she opened her eyes she realized that it was her glasses that had been making her vision blurry. She no longer needed them. They got tossed aside as she looked at her reflection, pulling her lips back again to see her new teeth.

Her canines were longer and sharper and the incisors next to them were now pointed. She also noticed the veins were back under her eyes and the whites of them were now red. She had seen this…the eyes and the teeth, on both Damon and Stefan before, but she never imagined how she would look as a vampire.

She knew she couldn't let someone walk in and see her like that, so she closed her eyes and focused on pushing it back. When she felt the veins under her eyes moving again she looked up to see that her face was normal again. Which was a good thing because someone knocked on the door and walked in. "Hey you." Tyler's voice behind her caused her heart to skip a beat as she spun around to see him holding a bundle of brightly colored daisys in his hand and a worried look on his handsome face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." She replied as she turned back to the sink, grabbed the blood bags and put them in the sink and tossed a rag over them, keeping them out of Tyler's sight. "I thought I told the nurse I didn't want visitors." She said, sounding rude without meaning to.

"I talked her into letting me see you." he said with a smirk. "Why don't you want visitors?" he asked, confused as he walked into the room and set the flowers on the bedside table.

"I just…really don't want anyone to see me like this." She lied with a shrug as he walked over and placed his hands on her robe covered hips. "Dirty hair and hospital clothes…not flattering."

"Since when are you that shallow? Everyone's worried about you and wants to come see you." he told her. "No one cares what you look like."

"I know it's just-" she was interrupted when the ultrasound technician knocked on the door as she opened it and came in with the machine. "I thought you said you were fine." Tyler told her with a confused look.

"Is this the dad?" The tech. asked as she moved the machine beside the bed.

"Dad?" Tyler asked the nurse then looked at Katie with wide eyes. "What is she talking about?"

Katie did her best to stay calm. She looked at the tech. and asked, "Can you give us a minute?" The nurse nodded and walked out. This isn't how she wanted him to find out. He wasn't supposed to be here. This isn't how any of this was supposed to happen. "Tyler I..." she felt the blood rushing in and turned away from him to hide her face.

"Hey, what's going on?" Tyler asked, resting his hand on Katie's back as she took in a calming breath.

When she was sure she could tell him without her face vamping out on her, she turned back to him. "You remember when we were at the grill playing pool and I got sick?" She asked as she turned to her bag and pulled out the ultrasound picture.

"Yeah, but you said you were fine." He said as she handed it to him. He took it with wide eyes and she could hear his heart beat speed up.

"I'm pregnant." She told him quietly, hating that she was having to do it this way. She was about eighty percent sure that she lost the baby when she turned, but she couldn't tell him that. She would just have to let things play out now.

Tyler stumbled back until his back hit the wall. She gave him a minute to let it sink in. "I'm gonna be a dad?" He asked with a frown at her.

"I don't know." Her answer got a confused look from him. Tears slipped down her cheeks as if on cue. "I've been cramping and something just doesn't feel right. That's why the ultrasound tech is back, to make sure everything's okay." She lied and Tyler just stared at her. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I just-"

"I'll stay." He pushed himself off the wall and cupped her cheek in his hand, wiping at a tear with his thumb. "If you want me to."

Katie picked up her foot and started tapping the toe of her shoe down into the floor, trying to decide what would be best and while holding back the blood that so desperately wanted to rush to her eyes. Eventually she nodded, "I want you to."

"I'll get the nurse." He told her as he headed to the door and opened it. The woman came in as Katie got on the bed and covered her lower half with the heavy blanket and lifter her gown, revealing her lower abdomen. As the nurse squeezed the cold clear gel on her stomach, Tyler moved to the other side of the bed and grabbed her hand in both of his. They both watched the screen as the tech moved the wand around on her belly. After searching for a few minutes and not finding anything the nurse stopped and looked at Katie with a frown. "What's wrong?" Tyler asked. Katie couldn't speak. She knew what happened, she was one step ahead of Tyler and the nurse. She knew that the baby died when she did and the vampire blood in her system got rid of all signs of her ever being pregnant.

"This is weird." The woman told Tyler then looked at Katie. "I know you were pregnant. I'm the one that did your ultrasound yesterday and there was a baby there, but now it's like you were never even pregnant. If you miscarried there would still be an embryo without a heart beat, but there's nothing."

"So did she miscarry or was she never even pregnant to begin with?" Tyler asked confused. "Do you even know what you're doing?" Tyler got mad in a snap.

"I miscarried." Katie answered flatly. "And my body took care of the rest."

"Well, you are an unusually fast healer." The tech pointed out. "You and that other girl are the talk of the hospital."

"So you're not pregnant anymore?" Tyler asked Katie with a mix of relief and sadness in his voice. Katie just shook her head no.

"Ill leave you be." The tech told them as she wheeled her machine to the door.

Katie was silent until the woman was gone. "I don't know what to say." She didn't look at him as she pulled her knees up, hugging them.

"I don't either." Tyler sat down on the side of the bed facing her. "I mean first you're pregnant then you're not."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you yesterday, but I knew that you were dealing with losing your dad..." she started and stopped when he looked at her. "Bonnie told me."

"I don't want to talk about him." He told her as he looked away from her letting his head fall.

"Still, I'm sorry...for everything." She told him quietly.

"Is this my fault?" He asked looking at her across his shoulder. "Because I wrecked the car? Did I hurt the baby?"

Katie felt a pang of hatred for Katherine shoot through her. "No, Tyler, it's not your fault. My body just...didn't support the pregnancy. It's no one's fault." Tyler just let his head fall. "Look at me." She told him as she moved out from under the covers to sit on her knees next to him and slid her hand over his cheek pushing him to look at her across his shoulder. "It wasn't meant to be. It's as simple as that. Okay?"

"Okay." He told her with a tight lipped nod. Katie just lifted her brows at him with a look that told him to say it like he meant it. "Okay." He told her a little louder.

"Are we good?" She asked quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah." Tyler gave her a small sad smile, "we're good."

"Good." She told him as she slid her hand into his and gave it a squeeze as he gripped it back. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but it didn't seem like the best timing. He'd just been on an emotional roller coaster, she didn't want to add one more twist to it. So instead she rested her forehead on his shoulder. He threaded his fingers through her waves. When she looked up at him he pressed his lips to hers.

He stood from the bed making Katie frown. "I've gotta get back to Mom." He told her making Katie remember that Carol was probably planning a funeral for the mayor.

"Yeah. No, go..." she told him with a wave of her hand.

"Are you sure you don't need me to stay, because I'll ditch her if you need me to." He said with raised brows.

"I'm sure. Your mom needs you right now." She assured him as she slid from the bed and stood up. She pecked him on the lips. "Go."

Tyler kissed her one more time then left. With him gone Katie breathed out a sigh of relief and walked over to the sink where she uncovered the blood bags. She quickly downed the one bag and started sipping on the second one. Wondering what time it was she turned on her phone. After it was done turning on the screen displayed that it was three o'clock. Three more hours till it would be dark and she could leave the hospital. Those three hours couldn't pass fast enough.

She managed to stretch the blood bags out for an hour. So with two hours to go she opened the curtains just enough to let light in, then out of boredom she started holding her hand in the ray of sunlight just to see how long she could hold it there before it became too painful.

But eventually the sun sank enough that it stopped burning her. So she grabbed her stuff and left the hospital. She didn't have a ride. So she put her new speed to the test and ran home. She was thrilled to find that she wasn't even breathless when she sped up her front door steps.

Thankfully, since Damon had put the house in her name for her birthday she didn't have to be invited in. She walked in to find her grandfather sitting in his recliner drinking a beer. "I thought you were on your death bed." He told her, not moving from the chair as he took in her disheveled hair and the hospital gown and robe that she still wore.

"Really?" Katie asked as she walked in tossing her bag and keys down on the table. "I almost die and that's what you say to me when I get home?" She stood over him, glaring at the hateful man. "How about, "oh my God I'm so happy you're okay."?" She asked, clearly pissed.

"That would imply that I care about you. I don't." He told her then turned his eyes back to the football game.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked with a frowning glare. "Do you care about anything other than beer, football and punching me?" She asked.

"Nope." He told her with a sarcastic smile, not taking his eyes off of the forty inch flat screen tv that sat on a wooden entertainment center. Letting her anger get the best of her she moved in front of him, blocking his view of the game. "Move." He told her leaning to the side to look around her. Seeing that she still didn't have his full attention she turned around and put her fist through the tv sending shards of glass and plastic to scatter around her feet. "What the hell?" he yelled and stood up. "You're going to pay for that."

"Am I?" she asked turning back to him with a glare. "I don't think I will."

"What the hell is your problem?" he asked loudly.

"You." Katie answered. "You are and always have been my problem. Because of you I have led the safest, most boring life in the universe. I never take risks for fear of pissing you off. Because of you I have kept secrets from my friends. Because of you I don't have the slightest clue what it feels like to be loved unconditionally." She told him taking a step closer to him with every word and with every step her hatred of the man got closer and closer to the front of her mind. "I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you and that includes the bitch that killed me."

"Killed you…what?" he asked as he backed away toward the front door. Her reddening vein framed eyes caused him to be scared of her for the first time in his life. "What are you?"

"I'm a vampire, Grandpa." She answered with a voice that was sticky sweet. "And you…" she said as she took a final step to him making his back hit the wall next to the front door she placed her hand over his neck like he had done to her countless times, pinning him in place. "You sucked the life out of me." She smiled at him menacingly, showing him her fangs. He shook with fear. "And tonight?" she looked into his brown eyes, the fear in them bringing her a disturbing about of joy. "Tonight I'm going to enjoy returning the favor."

He whimpered as Katie slammed her teeth into his neck. She knew feeding was going to be satisfying, but she didn't know until she bit into him just how amazing it would feel. No wonder Damon killed so often.

As she drained the life from him, he started to slump against her. So for the first time ever she wrapped her arms around him, holding him up. When he was completely drained, she shoved him to the floor. His head hit the floor so hard she heard his skull crack.

Reveling in how satisfied and strong she felt, she leaned her head back, closed her eyes and smiled as she licked blood from her lips. "God that felt good." She sighed as she opened her eyes and looked down at her lifeless grandfather.

She locked the front door to keep people from walking in to see what she had done, then went upstairs. A duffle bag was thrown onto her bed, shoes, clothes and necessities were thrown inside it then she zipped it up. She went into the bedroom, took her robe and hospital gown off and wiped the blood from her face with it then tossed it to the floor. After putting on clean clothes she sat down at her desk, pulled out her journal and started writing on a fresh page. "Damon, I'm sorry, but I can't stay in this town. Not after what I did tonight. I can't just pick up where I left off. I can't make myself be with Tyler or be around my friends knowing that I could hurt them. I need to move on and make a new life for myself somewhere else. So please don't come looking for me. I know Bonnie probably won't do a locator spell even if you asked her too. I'm a vampire now so I know she hates me. I want to tell you goodbye in person so bad, but I know if I do you will convince me to stay or offer to come with me and if you don't do either that will hurt even more than telling you goodbye in this note. So I love you and goodbye."

She tucked the necklace he had given her between the pages, closed the book and set her cell phone on top of it. With one last look around the room she grabbed the bag and carried it out to her car. The bag was tossed into the passenger seat before she cranked the car and pulled it around to the privacy of the back yard.

She grabbed rope and cinder blocks from the garage and put them in the trunk. Then went inside and tossed her grandfather over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She tossed him carelessly into the trunk with the blocks then slammed it shut.

With the windows down and the night air blowing through her hair, she drove out to the falls and tied the blocks to her grandfather's torso. She kneeled at the edge of a cliff next to her grand father where she had set him on the ground. "Good riddance." With a single pushed he tumbled over the edge and landed in the water below with a loud splash. With him taken care of Katie got in her car and drove with no destination in mind.

That night she crashed at a sleazy road side motel. Not caring how nasty the bed was she quickly fell asleep.

~*Dreaming*~

Katie sat at a table in a candle lit bedroom of an old cabin. A glass wash basin and matching pitcher sat on a stand next to the table. A metal mirror was in her hand as she stared at a reflection that wasn't her own. Her round face, thin upturned nose, and small bow shaped lips were the same as hers. As were her green, almond eyes. However the woman in the reflection had freckles all over her face that was framed by tight, copper curls. Her bangs were twisted and pinned back out of her face..

Katie set down the mirror as walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She stood up and turned to him. He was handsome, clad in simple brown trousers and a white tunic. His brown eyes seemed to stare into her soul as she cupped his cheek in her hand, running it over his strong jaw line to his neck. He smiled with his thin, naturally pouting lips and looked down. His shoulder length waves falling in his face before he looked back up at her through his lashes. "You are an exquisite beauty."

She smiled back shyly as she brushed her thumb over the beauty mark that sat to the left of his nose.

The passion in his hazel eyes sent butterflies through her stomach as the man wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. His stubble was rough against her face, but she liked it and giggled as he picked her up, sitting her on the table making Katie realize that she was wearing a corset and pantalets under a thick cotton dress. A moan left her lips as the man brushed her hair to the side and started kissing her neck. He whispered, "I will love you until the day I die." into her ear causing her eyes to slip shut as she cupped the back of his neck in her hand as she sighed.

"If I am to die first, I will find you in my next life." She whispered as he continued to kiss her neck. With a smile on his handsome face he pulled back and started untying the crisscrossed strings on the front of her dress.

"Am I interrupting something brother?" they heard someone behind them and with a look of horror on his face he let go of her and turned to look at the blond headed man in the room.

She started shaking, "Jonah." She said realizing that the blond headed man who had interrupted them was holding, what she somehow knew was her son, around the neck. "Please, don't hurt him." She pleaded. He just smiled at her and sank his teeth into young the boys neck. "No!" She screamed and reached out for her son.

The blond headed man pushed the fading boy to the side making the brunet man run to the boy and bite his wrist, giving him blood before he died. But it left Katie, or whoever she was in this dream, unprotected. The blond vampire dashed over to her and ripped her head from her body.

~*End of Dream*~

She had this same dream every time she closed her eyes.

Katie's friends tried calling her and left her voicemails, but she didn't answer or return their calls. They visited her house, but when she didn't answer the door they gave up and walked away.

Three days passed like this before Elena went to the boarding house and found Damon sitting in the library drinking and reading Stefan's journal. "Have you heard from Katie?" She asked him with a frown.

"Nope." He answered not looking up from the book.

"Don't you think that's a little weird?" She asked.

"Not really." He answered sounding like he could care less. It wasn't unusual for Katie to go three days without talking to or seeing him.

"She's not in the hospital even though they didn't release her. She's not at her house, here or the grill. No one has heard from her, she's not answering calls and her voice mail is full." Her words made Damon look up at Elena with furrowed brows. It wasn't like Katie to not talk to her friends.

"Have you tried Tyler?" He asked.

"Yeah, he said he visited her at the hospital, but he hasn't spoken to her since. She's not answering his calls either." She answered. "I'm really worried about her."

"Yeah." He stood up and tossed Stefan's journal into the arm chair. "Me too." He walked past Elena like a man on a mission. "Come on."

Damon and Elena drove to Katie's house and Elena tried the door to find it locked. "Her grandfather's truck is here, but it doesn't look like he's home." Elena pointed out as she got the hide a key rock out of the fake plant next to the door. When she unlocked the door and pushed it open warm air hit them in the face. The air-conditioning had been off for days.

"Katie!" Damon called. "Katie?" He got no response so they walked in immediately noticing the busted tv. "Well that's not good." Damon said with a wide eyed look at Elena.

"You don't think Katherine..." Elena couldn't make herself finish the sentence and say, killed Katie too.

"Grandpa's missing, but his truck is here. Katie's missing and her car is gone." Damon said trying to put the pieces together as he started up to Katie's room. "Hangers on the bed." Damon pointed out. "She always puts them back in the closet."

Elena went over to the closet where she knew Katie kept her bags while Damon went to the bathroom. "Her cheer duffle is missing."

"There's a bloody hospital gown in here." He called as he walked back into the bedroom. That's when he spotted her cell phone and journal on the desk. Elena watched as he pushed the cell phone aside and picked up the book. He opened it to the page that was marked with the necklace, holding it so that the necklace didn't fall out. "Damn it Katie." Damon scoffed.

"What?" Elena asked and Damon just passed her the book.

"Are we seriously not going to look for her?" she asked after she red the note.

Damon picked up her cell phone off the desk. "Of course we're going to look for her." He scoffed as he walked past her, taking the necklace and the book out of her hands as he did.

"First Caroline now Katie?" Bonnie asked Elena and Damon from where she stood in the middle of the boarding house living room.

"We need your help finding her." Elena told Bonnie.

"I'm not sure I want to find her." Bonnie replied harshly. "I'm not going to help you bring her right back here to kill more people."

"Bonnie this is Katie were talking about. She's not going to kill anyone." Elena argued.

"Except maybe her grandfather." Damon added earning a glare from Elena.

"Not helping." She told him then looked back at Bonnie.

"Wherever she is, is where she needs to stay." Bonnie told them with a stern face. "It's bad enough that I let Stefan talk me into making Caroline a day walking ring." She told them. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to help you." She left.

"We have to find her Damon." Elena told him, seeing that he was worried too.

"Tell me something I don't know Elena." He told her snippily.

Three more weeks passed with no signs of Katie. Damon and Stefan stood in the library. "I don't get it. Most new vampires leave a trail of dead bodies in their wake." Damon complained as he paced.

"Katie's smart enough to cover her tracks. She clearly doesn't want to be found." Stefan said as he stood by with his arms crossed over his chest watching his brother pace. "Why are you so intent on finding her?"

"Why aren't you?" Damon snapped as he stopped pacing and glared at his brother. "This isn't just some random person who was accidentally turned. This is Katie. She's Elena's friend. He'll she's your friend. How are you not worried about her?" Damon asked with a frown.

"I am worried about her, but I also understand that she doesn't want to come home. So I'm not going to drag her back like you're trying to." Stefan argued. Damon glared at his brother then left with the intent of forcing Bonnie to do a locator spell.

Katie sat on a queen sized bed in a lamp lit, blue and white decorated five star hotel room in Nashville Tennessee. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, a steaming cup of coffee was in her hands that rested on them. A cute brunet guy was passed out in his boxers on the foot of the bed. Bite marks littered the parts of his body that would be covered with his clothes when he put them back on.

The hotel room was littered with empty beer bottles and a box of half eaten pizza was on the coffee table in the room. She knew how bad it looked, considering it looked like they got drunk and slept together while she fed on him, but it hadn't gone that far. They got drunk and she did feed on him, but they didn't have sex. They didn't even kiss. They just danced and she fed on him.

A knock sounded from the door making her eyes snap up from the guy to the door. "Room service."

She slid off of the bed and pulled on the robe that the hotel provided then answered the door. She let the guy holding a tray of food in the room, noticing the way he looked around as he set it on the kitchenette counter. Knowing that he was going to want a tip, Katie grabbed the passed out man's jeans that were laying on the floor, took out his wallet and pulled out a ten. "Thanks." She handed the room service guy the cash then watched him walk out the door.

She picked up her cup of coffee, sat back down on the bed and sipped it as she poked the guy in the side with her bright pink socked foot. The guy groaned and swatted at the air, but didn't wake up. So Katie nudged him harder. "What?" the guy groaned and tossed his arm over his eyes as if it were bright in the room.

"Get up." Katie told him, poking him in the side again.

"What time is it?" the guy asked as he pushed himself up and looked around.

"Time for you to get dressed and go." Katie answered earning a glare from him. She picked up his phone and looked at the time. "It's twelve thirty in the afternoon." She answered. "You mentioned last night that you have to go to work at two." She explained.

"Right, thanks." He told her with a yawn. "What's your name again?"

Katie laughed awkwardly because she couldn't remember his name either. "Katie."

"Mark." He said holding out his hand to her. She shook her head but took it, giving it a few shakes. "Nice to meet you Katie." He dropped her hand and finally noticed the bites. "What happened here?" he asked with a point at a bite mark on his toned pec.

"I bit you." she answered and he gave her a look that suggested she was the kinkiest person he had ever met. "You liked it."

"Huh, that's a new one." He said with a shrug. She had compelled him to forget what really happened last night before he passed out. She just sipped her coffee as he got dressed and picked his wallet up off of the coffee table. "Well, last night was fun. I'm gonna head out."

Katie put down her lukewarm coffee and followed him to the door. "Bye."

Katie was about to shut the door when she heard Damon's voice. "Looks like you've mastered the art of snatch, eat, erase." She looked down the hall to see Damon leaning on the wall.

"How did you find me?" She asked, unenthused as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I finally convinced your little witch friend to do a locator spell." He told her with a cocky smirk as he pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to her. "Did you honestly think I wasn't going to come looking for you?"

"No, but I hoped you wouldn't." She answered not moving from the doorway.

"Are you going to let me in?" he asked with a look at the room behind her.

"Nope." She answered popping the p at the end of the word.

"Why not? You got another guy in there? Do I need to tell Tyler that you've been cheating on him?" he asked and Katie's hard face softened a bit at the mention of Tyler.

"No." she answered looking down at the floor. "To all of that now please leave." Katie tried to shut the door, but he stuck his hand out, stopping it.

"No." he looked down at her staring into her eyes. "I didn't drive all the way here to have you slam the door in my face. Now let me in, Katie Cat." He whispered yelled the last sentence with an aggravated flick of his brows.

"I'm not going back, Damon. So you might as well save your breath, turn around and go home." She said still not moving out of the way. Damon being Damon caught her off guard, threw her over his shoulder, stepped inside and shut the door. Katie tried to get out of his grasp, but he was stronger than her. "Fine, just…put me down." She told her as she went limp.

He threw her onto the bed knowing it wouldn't hurt her. "A lot has happened since you left." He told her as he looked around the room.

"I don't want to know." She told him as she sat up, scooted back to lean beck against the headboard and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"So if Jeremy tried to kill himself you wouldn't want to know about it?" he asked and Katie shook her head. "What about if your boyfriend is a werewolf?"

"That's just laughable." She replied flatly thinking he was just making stuff up to mess with her.

"It's true." He told her looking as serious as she had ever seen him. "Jeremy tried to kill himself the same night that Tyler wrecked crashed and almost killed you. That same night Katherine told me she never loved me and she never will." He proceeded to tell her everything that happened while she was gone. "And yesterday we planned on killing Katherine, but she had a witch link her to Elena. If we killed Katherine we killed Elena. So instead we locked her in the tomb with the moonstone." He finished with a sarcastic smile. "You sure you don't want to come home. It's way more entertaining than this place."

"You really think I want to go back to my home, where my boyfriend is a werewolf that could kill me with one bite and my best friend hates me because of what I am?" she asked seriously.

"You really think Bonnie hates you?" Damon asked.

"Yes." She answered without hesitation.

"If she hates you then why did she charm this for you?" he asked as he held up a diamond crusted pierced filigree ring with a blue oval stone in the center of it.

"Is that-?" she asked getting cut off by Damon.

"A daylight ring? Yes." He answered and saw the faintest of smiles on her lips. "I'll make you a deal." He said as he closed his fist around the ring.

"Let me guess. You'll give me the ring if I come home." Katie said with an eye roll as she crossed her arms over her chest again.

"Yep, and no more feeding on people. It's blood bags or the Stefan diet." He told her hating the words that came out of his mouth, but he was doing what needed to be done to get Katie home and safe.

When she didn't automatically agree to come home Damon waved the ring at her as if to tempt her. "Does Tyler know what I am?" she asked as she leaned her head back on the headboard.

"No." Damon answered honestly. "He thinks you're at a long lost aunt's house."

"And my missing slash dead grandfather?" Katie asked.`

"Had a midlife crisis, bought a motorcycle and is off seeing the world." Damon answered as he sat down on the bed next to her, copying her stiiting position. "How did it feel, killing him?"

"Better than it should." She answered as she walked over to Damon and he stood up. "I'd thought a lot about becoming a vampire since I met you. If I ever wanted to be one, what I'd do if I ever did turn."

"Really?" He asked with a look at her across his shoulder and she hummed a positive answer. "What did you decide?" He asked quietly.

"That eternal life wasn't something I wanted. I didn't want to watch my friends get married, have kids and grow old without me. I love kids, I really did want to become a pediatrician. I wanted to get married and have kids of my own. I didn't want to rob myself of all the things that make life, life." she answered not looking at him but at the wall across from her. "But I decided that If I ever did turn the first thing I would do is make my grandfather pay for what he did to me."

"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this?" He asked making her finally look at him.

"Because I don't usually go blabbing my deepest darkest thoughts to people." She answered.

"I'm not people.” He told her as he slid his hand into hers. “I'm your best friend.” He threaded their fingers together. "You should tell me these things."

"Is that what we are? Best friends?" She asked a little amused as she closed her fingers around his.

"First and foremost? Yes. Plus you're still technically dating Tyler. So friends is all we can be." He told her with an eye roll. "Unless you want to break up with him like I've been trying to get you to do for forever now."

"I don’t know what the hell I'm doing." Katie groaned and let go of his hand as she slid off of the bed and started pacing. "I don’t want to go home, but I don't want to break up with Tyler... Everything is so messed up." She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face.

"All the more reason to come home and sort it out." Damon countered as he stood up and held the ring out to her. "Your friends need you." He grabbed her hands in his, holding them against his chest. "I need you." His pleading eyes boring into hers.

She looked into his eyes, each second that ticked by tearing her down. "I hate you." She sighed not meaning it as she let her head hang in defeat as she said, "Deal."

He took her right hand and slid the ring onto her ring finger. "Deal." He pulled her into him and pressed his lips to hers.

Katie knew he was going to kiss her as soon as she said deal, but she didn't expect it to feel so good. She had stayed away from intimacy strictly because she knew her emotions and everything else was in overdrive. Kissing Damon as a vampire was ten times better than when she was human and she found herself getting lost in him. Her hands practically had a mind of their own as they pushed his shirt up, breaking their intense kiss long enough for him to take his shirt off while she took her robe and tank top off leaving her in just a bra and short cheer shorts.

With nothing but lust in her eyes, she threw Damon onto the bed then crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. "You're not thinking straight." Damon warned her, hating that he couldn't let himself take advantage of her, but she kissed him effectively shutting him up. She eagerly ran her hands over his torso before sliding them up his arms to his hands that she pinned to the bed beside his head. She moved to kissing his neck. "You don't want to do this Katie Cat. I know you. You would never cheat on Tyler."

"Zip code rule." She whispered in his ear not thinking about anything but Damon and how every cell in her body wanted him.

"Really? A frat boy type excuse? Come on, your better than that." He scoffed, but when she started kissing him again he gave in or at least he let her believe he had. After indulging in her for a few minutes he rolled them over and pinned her down. "This isn't…you." He told her as he looked her in the eyes. "I know how good it feels as a new vampire and trust me I want you so bad right now." He practically growled the last words still looking between her bright green, glasses free eyes, as he let it sink in. "I'm not going to let you do something you will regret."

He watched as she came down off her oxytocin high, but unfortunately when you get that high you tend to plummet back down to the earth hard. When he saw tears slip from her eyes he knew she wasn't going to jump his bones again. However, he had missed her and selfishly couldn't make himself move off of her just yet. She sniffled and forced herself to stop crying. “Having second thoughts about stopping me?" She asked him quietly.

“Yep.” He answered with a nod.

“Then you should’ve taken me up on the offer when you had the chance.” She told him, her eyes turning angry. “Now let me go.”

"You sure you won't attack me again?" He asked with a cocky smile and a playful flick of his brow. "I know how irresistible you find me."

"You're so damn cocky." she grunted as she jerked her hands from his tight grasp and tried to push him off of her. Damon started laughing as he rolled over and she stood up. "It's not funny." She scolded him as she wiped her eyes and grabbed her cheer duffle from the arm chair in the room.

"It's a little funny." He told her as he watched her grab a pair of dark wash distressed jean shorts and a plain black v neck t-shirt.

"It's not." She argued back flatly as she switched her cheer shorts for the jean ones. She caught him looking at her with lust in his eyes. "Stop it." She said as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"Stop what?" He asked with a smirk and a flick of his brows knowing she found it hard to resist.

"Looking at me like you want to eat me and doing that little eye smolder thing you do." She told him as she started picking up her things from where they were scattered around the room.

"What eye thing?" He asked doing the eye thing.

"That one. Stop it." She said as she swiped his shirt up off the floor and shoved it into his chest.

"Why are you so mad?" He asked in a playful tone, taking in how aggressive she was being.

"Because I can't control myself." She practically yelled at him. "I can't control the hunger or my emotions or…impulses, apparently." She ranted as she shoved things into her bag. "And you think it's funny. How funny is it going to be when I kiss Tyler and end up practically forcing him to sleep with me? It's a good thing vampires can't procreate or I'd end up in the same boat that Katherine tossed me out of." When she realized what she said she froze, her hand still holding the zipper pull of the zipped up duffle bag.

"You know?" Damon asked as he walked over to her and tried to look at her face but she looked away.

"Know what?" Katie asked, wiping a tear before she threw the strap over her shoulder.

Damon grabbed her chin and made her look at him, his eyes bouncing between hers, "That you were pregnant."

"How do you know about that?" She asked quietly as she swiped his hand from her chin.

"I heard the second heart beat when I snuck into the ICU and fed you my blood." He answered. "How long had you known?"

"I started suspecting when I threw up from the scent of fajitas the night of the founder's parade, but I didn't know for sure until I woke up in the hospital. I asked them to do a pregnancy test and it came back positive."

"Does Tyler know?" Damon asked.

Katie looked down at the floor. "He was there when they did a second ultrasound, confirming my suspensions that I had lost the baby."

"Damn." Damon didn't know what to say. "That sucks."

"That's the main reason why I don't want to go back, Damon. Just thinking about it..." her voice cracked and she hugged herself, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It hurts."

"I know, Katie Cat." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she wrapped hers around his torso, crying into his neck as he cupped the back of her head in his hand. "I know, but you have to."

After a few minutes of just hugging him with his chin resting on the top of her head she let him go and stepped back. "I'm a freaking basket case." She complained as she wiped her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time.

"No you're a new vampire that's overindulged in human blood." Damon argued back. "But don't think about all of that. Think about what it's going to feel like to have the sun on your skin for the first time in almost a month."

Just the thought warmed her a little inside. "Okay." She nodded, pushing the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder.

Katie leaned her head against the passenger window of Damon's car, taking in the sun on her face. Thinking about how it was possible that she could even be in the sun she turned her eyes to the ring on her finger. Damon noticed her run her finger over it, taking in how pretty and timeless it was. "Who picked this out?" She asked holding up her hand at him.

"Me. Right before I had your necklace made." He answered knowing what conversation he was about to have with her.

"What?" She asked quickly putting two and two together realizing that he had intended on turning her.

"Before I gave you your necklace I thought seriously about turning you." He told her. "But I couldn't make myself do that to you no matter how bad I wanted you to be in my life forever." When she didn't say anything he kept talking. "The ring originally had a sapphire in it, but I had it replaced with a lapis lazuli. That way, it could be a daylight ring. The sapphire from the ring was re-cut and put into your necklace."

"Where did you have all this done?" Katie asked.

"A trusted jewelry shop. Why?" He drawled.

"Could Katherine have found out about you making this ring?" She asked not looking at him, but at the road ahead of them.

"I don't know. She is a sneaky bitch so...probably." he answered, confused.

"Son of a bitch." Katie scoffed and shook her head turning her eyes to her door window.

"Am I missing something here?" Damon asked.

"Katherine gave me a message for you before she killed me and I didn't understand it. I thought maybe she thought she was doing me a favor by keeping me from being a teen mom, but I didn't have the whole picture." Katie ranted with flared nostrils.

"What was the message, Katie?" Damon asked getting aggravated.

"She told me to tell you you're welcome." Katie said finally looking at him and he couldn't tell if she was mad at him or Katherine. "She turned Caroline to send a message to you and Stefan. She turned me for you."

Damon didn't know what to say so to keep from saying the wrong thing and unintentionally stoking the embers of Katie's anger he chose to not say anything.

After a while, when Katie settled down she asked, "Were you thinking about turning me on our first date? When you gave me the necklace?" She asked looking away from the window to stare at the side of his face.

He smiled a little at the memory of giving her the necklace and hummed a positive answer.

"Why didn't you?" She asked quietly.

"Because I care about you and I couldn't make myself make your life harder than it already was for selfish reasons." He answered honestly. He glanced over at her to see her hand on her chest where her pendant used to rest. "You look naked without it."

"I feel naked without it." She dropped her hand from her chest with a heavy sigh.

"Pretty soon you'll feel that way about that ring." He told her making her look down at it. "You never said if you liked it or not."

"It's beautiful. Just like everything else you've ever given me." She said with a small smile that he returned.

As she turned her eyes to the road ahead of them a big ball of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to go back to Tyler, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie and her house that was filled with more bad memories than good. However she knew it what she needed to do. It wasn't fair to leave everyone behind just because she didn't want to face them after killing someone and feeding on countless guys since she turned.

[zambie-trashart]

Land of the Free and Home of the Wayne pt 3

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masterlist

Chapter Summary: Chaos.

Marinette woke up to the sound of hair dryers and laughter. she looked around and smiled seeing Chloe and Sabrina blow drying each other. Marinette took a shower the previous night and left her hair down and got dressed in a gray romper with flowers crawling up the sides that she had designed herself.

“Oh. My. God. Mari you have to make me one of those!” Chloe squealed and Sabrina nodded so fast she could have broken her neck.

“I’ll do that when we get home from this nightmare.” As if one cue, there was a knock on the door. Marinette walked over and opened the door and there stood Jon Kent smiling.

“Uh, hi can I chill with you guys for a while?” Jon asked and Chloe ran over and pulled him into their room. Jon sat on the edge of Marinette’s bed looking at the three girls.

“So I don’t mean to be blunt but you gay right?” Chloe asked and Marinette and Sabrina looked over at Chloe in shock that she just put it out there.

“CHLOE!” Marinette shouted at her friend who just stood there waiting for an answer.

“Nah, it’s cool I hoped that people would have gotten the message after my interview but I guess some people are still confused,” Jon said laughing.

“Cool, well I’m Chloe and this is Marinette and Sabrina.” Chloe smiled at Jon. The four walked out of the room and there was a gasp from down the hall. Two girls stood there angry and out for blood marching down the hall at the four who were just standing there talking and laughing. 

“Marinette I can’t believe you! You like Adrien but just to hurt Alya you try to kiss Jon!” Lila yelled and people gathered in the hall. Jon put his hands over his ears, the yelling was too much and it didn’t help that her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“Who’s Al...” Jon was interrupted by Alfred coughing at the end of the hall.

“Breakfast is served for anyone who would like to eat instead of watch all of this fake drama between two students about a boy who would never kiss a girl even if his life depended on it, correct Master Jonathan?” Alfred asked and Jon just laughed watching as all of the students left except for Chloe and Marinette.

“That was badass.” Damian came up the stairs and ran over to Jon.

“Did she touch you anywhere?” Damian asked and Dick ran up behind.

“Show me where she touched on the touch bear.” Dick held out a bear and Jason walked up and looked at the two girls and sighed.

“What the fuck Richard,” Jason asked pulling his brother away.

“Nobody touched me Dick, I’m fine,” Jon said trying to get over his giggles.

“So what happened?” Damian asked.

“Sausage hair doesn’t seem to get that I’m gay and tried to make everyone think that Marinette and I were getting it on in a room with two other people, she has power over her class cause they believed her,” Jon looked at the two for conformation and they nodded.

“She lies about everything, she lied about knowing you guys and even dating Damian,” Marinette told the two who looked at each other plotting. Mar’i ran down the hall and Jon and climbed up on his back.

“Come on Jon! We’re going to get some breakfast!” Mar’i yelled and Jon nodded to Chloe to tell her to follow.

“We’re going to stop that girl from spreading anymore lies, trust me,” Damian said and Marinette smiled at him her eyes sparkling. Damian felt lost in those deep blues. She held out her hand.

“Shake on it?” she asked and he took her hand and he felt his face getting hotter by the second.

Jon carried Mar’i in and looked at the thirteen students eating breakfast happily and saw Tim in the corner drinking coffee carefully this time and Mar’i bounded over to him like a puppy and sat on his lap talking to him. No one seemed to care that Tim and Mar’i were there but when Jon looked up the girl’s friend from earlier stood in front of him. 

“Hi, I’m Alya, do you wanna sit with me?” she asked looking slightly up at him (he wasn’t that tall, he was like 5′4ish in the comics when he’s like 10 he’s 4′6 sooooooooo) Jon just walked away and sat next to the blonde from the previous night who said that he was interested in Jon and his friend started talking to Jon and the other who’s name was Adrien.

Marinette walked in  and someone threw a biscuit at her and everyone laughed when she tripped over it. “Oh no Marinette you’re such a clutz,” Lila said laughing and everyone else joined in.

Jon got up from his seat and helped her up. “Are you ok?” he asked and Marinette started to wonder how many girls have gotten lost in his eyes only to find out later that he didn’t like girls at all.

“She’s such a bully and now she’s got Jon under her spell,” Lila cried. “I was going to try to help you Alya but it seems like Marinette is making him go against his better judgement.” Lila hid her face in her elbow. Jon just rolled his eyes sighing. Jon left Marinette at the door winking at her.

“Alya was it?” Jon asked and the girl in question nodded as he smiled at her. “Well you might wanna do your research next time to see if the guy you like actually likes girls. I’m so gay that I puke glitter and shit rainbows, I just act all “adorable” as most girls say cause I grew up in Kansas darling,” Jon said putting emphasis on “darling” making most girls swoon but then think better. Jason stood up at the end of the table and pointed to Jon.

“Watch your fucking mouth at Alfred’s table! Our Lord and savior shall not be disrespected like that!” Jason yelled and Bruce and Damian walked in and stared at everyone.

“Alright kids, if you haven’t changed yet then please do that now, and we’ll be heading off to Wayne Enterprises shortly,” Bruce said and some of the kids got up and Bruce pinned a piece of paper to the wall.

Week One: Tour WE Tour Batman Museum Walk around City Free day Tour Metropolis Get Fitted for Gala Free day

Week Two: Back to Metropolis Walk around Gotham Get second half of class fitted Free day Guests arrive Show students how to prepare for gala Wayne Gala students invited

“This will be the plan for the next two weeks, if there are any questions about this city or our sister city please feel free to bring them to my attention the day before we go there.” Bruce walked out of the room to finish getting dressed and when he came back down the stairs, all of the students were ready and they piled into the limos.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

JPS:  @wannajointhecrabcult @loveswifi @ash-amg @thatonecroc @mochegato @mochinek0 @toodaloo-kangaroo @liquid-luck-00 @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole

Tag list: @abrx2002 @finallyaniguana @danielslilangel @chocolateherringtacofan @animegirlweeb @fleur-de-jasmin-fdj @pawsitivelymiraculous @justcourttee @ayamestudios @greenteacz@thornalchemist23 @vixen-uchiha @readeracctagmepls @tomanyfandomsinmymind @t1dwarrior-of-earth@michaelshadow7779 @i-is-mysterious 

[ashiversary]

Adaptability

Adaptability:

1. A pokemon ability that increases the power of moves of the same type as the user. Common species with this ability include porygon, basculin and eevee.

2. The ability to acclimatise efficiently and fast to changed circumstances

◊

The umbreon tent at the Opal City Eevee And Evolutions Event is a good place to be, Go thinks, even though it’s early. The darkness means it’s refreshingly cool compared to outside, the ‘dark night’ coffees sold by the door are both delicious and immensely caffeinated, and the newly-evolved Instinct umbreons are sleeping (for once) in relative silence. It’s so early, in fact, that there’s only one other guest in this row. They’re pretty short, with red hair, lots of piercings and wait a minute-

“Uh, Amelie?”

Her eye flicks briefly towards him.

“Hello, Go.”

Oh. Great. He turns to look at what she’s eyeing.

It’s a good specimen from a show perspective, Go can tell. The eyes are bright and cheri-red, the coat ink-black and glossy, and the thick gold bands from evolving under a full harvest moon have a soft but powerful glow. It’s a pretty attractive pokemon for a team who deal in stolen goods, so Go braces for a knee to the stomach and hopes someone will call for security before he hits the ground.

When a minute has passed with no attack he dares to crack an eye open to look at her.

“Picking good ones to steal later? They’re all tagged and chipped you know-”

“No.”

“Planning to steal the prize money?”

“Not really.”

“Then why are you here at an eevee convention?”

She fixes him with a look and- oh.

He’s suddenly very glad Spark stayed behind. Arceus only knows the carnage that would result from him, her boss and hundreds of eevee all in the same place.

Anyway, Go, focus.

There’s no members of the public admitted right now, but there’s still a handful of breeders primping their umbreons before the gates open, and although he’s got over a foot of height on her Go doesn’t think for a minute that’ll stop him from being handed his ass if things get dicey. (Amelie did focus solely on his uninjured side when they met after the last big fight though, so that was… thoughtful? Less brutal than the majority of Rocket?)

The point is, it’s early, there’s no high-level trainers anywhere nearby and a member of Team Rocket is next to him at an Eevee Exhibition. So what should he do?

Go shrugs.

“Want to get breakfast?”

“So,” Amelie asks when they’re sat near a food stand fifteen minutes later, “Why are you here?”

He shrugs, chasing the last pieces of tamato berry around the tray.

“Some of the special entrants in the main exhibition are from Instinct Hatcheries, like that flying-type eeveelution, the dual-type vaporeon and, uh… Dumpling the shiny kit? Do you know about him?”

She nods and - wait, of course she’ll know about Dumpling, given who her boss is. Go’s certain that despite the frequent recorded visits from Mystic One on file at the kit’s hatchery, Leader Blanche themself has never actually set foot in the place.

He continues, regardless. “Because of the ties Instinct have with a lot of the organizers, we- as in, high-ranking Instinct Trainers – got special passes for the event.”

Go’s not entirely sure why he got one, really. Okay, yes, his name is down on paper as Instinct Two, but he’ll be the first to admit that compared to any of Spark’s Elite Four he’s way behind. Why is he here again?

He’s always been good at rolling with the punches, though, literal or otherwise. He’s adaptable.

(In this job, with his boss, you need to be. Otherwise you just might not survive.)

◊

The theory goes:

A standard, purebred eevee with no external influences will evolve in accordance with its environment - one who lives wild by a lake and hunts for food in the water will tend towards vaporeon, habitats of warm homes as cherished pets create sylveon, those raised on spiritual sites or alongside psychics evolve into espeon (and everyone knows not to leave kits near the psychic Gym Leader of Saffron City unless, for whatever reason, you want a rambunctious feline unable to manage its considerable newfound strength back right after).

Even amongst the same species there are further physiological variations. The rare wild leafeon studied in arctic tundra environments have stubby near-black leaves with a waxy finish, slow metabolisms, and a secondary ice-typing. Amongst professional breeders and co-ordinators different leafeon with unusual foliage, such as delicate ornamental leaves or chubby cacti greenery, are a hit. The reigning Kalos Queen making an appearance even has an exquisite rose leafeon as her signature companion - far too finicky for the average trainer, too fragile for regular battling. And yet, much like a wild eevee and its evolution, it’s perfectly adapted for its current environment. 

(Go figure, Go thinks as he takes a high-speed rose to the face at the front of the crowd, Amelie looking suspiciously like she’s trying to hide a smile).

But the environment is only half the puzzle. If exposed to a standard water stone, a wild eevee will undergo rapid evolution into what most would consider a ‘classic’ vaporeon – neck frill, aqua blue colouring, finned tail - even if its habitat is a frozen plain or an electrified cave.

So, as Annie had explained to him over one of the few dinners Spark or Zapdos (is there a difference, really?) hadn’t been able to crash and burn, the leading theory is that the eevee ignores its previous adaptations and rapidly adjusts in order to cope with a sudden influx of energy the stone contains - similar to how other species can go years with no sign of pending evolution but then once exposed to the right conditions, boom, a distressed golem is now stuck in your bathroom. 

“Look,” she’d said, dragging out a tablet from her purse, “The main idea is the stone itself is a strong energy source – the eevee suddenly adapts to this exposure and the energy drives the evolution to completion in seconds, but because most of these stones are similar in chemical composition the final vaporeons are also pretty identical.”

Huh, he’d thought, so that’d been why Mystic had requested a large number of eevee kits a few months before, and why so many of their high-rank trainers had similar vaporeons on their teams now. He’d assumed it was just for the team aesthetic, really, but they must have been adopted out once the research programme had wrapped up.

Annie had continued, nearly knocking over her glass as she’d gestured at the screen.

“But then we’ve got to consider that items such as Razor Fangs and Claws are similar energy sources, or possibly catalysts. We now know certain stones and trading systems count as an energy source because of the thermodynamic profiles, but how does that link to items such as Reaper Cloths? Wild dusknoir and escavalier have to come from somewhere, Go!”

It had been interesting when he’d read over it later, after walking her home – or at least, back to Mystic HQ. Aside from cases such as nidorina and nidoqueen, Instinct typically ignore the evolution status of the pokemon used for breeding to focus mostly on IVs and moves, so browsing Annie’s notes had helped show a whole new side of the story, and they’re a lot easier for a novice to read than Leader Blanche’s, that’s for sure.

There was something similar to this topic in one of his college classes actually - a certain level of energy is required to allow a reaction to occur, catalysts open up different reaction pathways with lower energy requirements, if energy isn’t available from an external source then internal energy will be used instead, and so on. Currently known sources, according to Mystic research, include electromagnetic waves during trading, certain geological features, and – if the ongoing research on eevees is any indication - evolutionary stones as well. So now Annie’s research involves looking at possible wavelengths emitted, triggering the use certain items and further analysis of evolutionary stones. (He winces on Professor Willow’s behalf. Those items aren’t cheap, after all, and Go may no longer a completely-broke student but he won’t be casually dropping ₽10,000 on a stone that will never be anything but powder for a lab experiment.)

Annie always looks so animated when she talks about her research with Mystic One. Guess it helps to have a Team Leader who you really care for.

(Then again Spark, at least, doesn’t need constant reminders to eat or sleep.)

Speaking of which…

“Uh… Leader Blanche and Annie are supposed to be here today. Could you and your boss maybe not blow up the exhibition while we’re all here? Or start a fight? Or steal anything”

Amelie doesn’t even look up from the stall she’s examining. Out of all the locations to spend the morning at, personally Go wouldn’t have picked the shopping village – it’s not even ten in the morning now and it’s already a struggle to get through the crowds. Amelie, however, is both determined and terrifying - so here they are. 

“Mystic One is currently at their headquarters having overslept. Mystic Two is with them.”

Well that’s not at all creepy.

“How do you know that?” He demands.

“Carl told me.”

“Carl, as in-”

That stuck-up dick? is what Go wants to say, but his mouth finishes, “-Valor Two?”

“Yes. We’re acquainted.”

Typical. All said stuck-up dick apparently needs to drop the snobbish attitude, even for someone like Team Rocket, is a terrifying attitude and an above-average bra size. 

(That’s probably unfair, he reflects. There’s one key reason why the two of them will never get along and it’s five-foot-ten, host to a lightning titan and drinks Go’s milk straight from the carton.)

“It’s in everyone’s best interest for there to be no fighting today, don’t you agree? Three of each, please.” Amelie directs the last part at the hovering sales assistant, guarding the stock with the tenacity of a stoutland and the attitude of a houndoom.

Honestly, Go thinks, simultaneously watching the assistant bag all the items and trying to read the labels upside-down at the same time as they’re packed, Carl and Amelie knowing each other well isn’t a bad thing. Especially given the animosity between her boss and Leader Candela - and their combined talents at causing significant property damage.

“Limited Edition Eevee Family… are these socks?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

 “You came all the way to a massive eevee exhibition… to buy yourself socks?”

He looks back at the packaging, the front home to a model in frills sporting sylveon thigh-highs and not much else.

Don’t think about her wearing them, don’t think about her wearing them-

Too late. It’s an amazing image though.

“They’re not for me. I’m here to get them for someone who couldn’t make it.” Amelie says, like she can read minds. Or maybe it was pretty obvious what he was (completely involuntarily!) thinking of.

Hang on, given that there’s one person he knows of who can make Amelie get up at the crack of dawn and wears eevee paraphernalia obsessively…

“So… your boss isn’t here today?”

There’s an unnaturally long pause.

“No,” Amelie finally says. It’s hard to tell with someone as serious as her but for a moment, Go thinks, it looks like she wants to say something more. “No, they’re not.”

“So you did come all this way just for socks?”

She shrugs.

“Lief is also thinking about breeding an eevee-cross meowth at some point, so he’s looking at possible studs as well.”

“Lief?”

“You’ve met him. Green hair, crossbred persians, kicked you in the face last month at the pier?”

Oh yeah, he remembers now. He really needs to try and run into people who are less violent, he thinks.

Amelie takes her receipt and turns to face him. “I’ll see you around, Go.”

“Uh, is it bad if I hope that’s not any time soon?”

He gets a whole smile for that.

[pleom]

i. hunger

A sound awoke you. It shouldn’t have—it was much too distant and far too quiet for you to have picked up on it. But the tension in the air left you hyperaware of every move and shuffle, too high-strung to fully give yourself to sleep. You lacked the energy to open your eyes and relied on your other senses to give you a clue. The sound slowly grew in clarity—plastic crinkles and the smacks of a dry mouth.

It was Jisung, sat against a wall with an empty bag of chips dangled over his tongue. He panted desperately, and licked at the pitiful amount of crumbs that dropped into his mouth. All around him were containers of already finished food. The last meal ate was a can of green beans, and it was Minho who shoved the last bits into his mouth while everyone slept. The room never smelled of rotten food, though, as everyone made sure to pick each package and cartridge clean. No one would dare leave behind a speck in their wake. Not while the whole room starved. 

“Jisung,” Mina warned. 

“Sorry,” and the plastic bag crumpled back down to the floor. Jisung groaned with his chest, arms twitching over his stomach. “I’m just so hungry; how long do we gotta wait?”

It seemed like everyone was awake, now. More feet dragged across the concrete, and every wrinkle seemed to have its own reverb. Life sprung back into being inside this cellar bunker of yours.

You felt it, too. An emptiness none too gentle. It rocked you in violent waves that left you heaving, but even so, you had to keep a steel grip. The rest of the cabin moaned with the same predicament. And deep inside all of them, even with the knowledge they beared, they wondered the same thing.

“Long enough,” Mina said, easily irked. She kicked a can to its side and nestled deeper into the wall. “We’ll survive, I promise. But only if you guys keep it down, alright? Ever heard of meditating?”

“Meditating is supposed to be done under ideal conditions,” Jisung fired.

“Not true,”

“Very true, what—”

The screeching of metal broke the beginnings of another argument before it began, signaling either the return of someone important or the arrival of someone disastrous. Heavy boots plodded down the concrete stairs leading to your bunker, a single bated breath shared among all its dwellers.

“Guys,” a familiar, somber voice echoed through the chamber, “it’s safe.”

It’s Chan. And he came back bloodier than before. But the stains on his clothings registered later than his words—

—“Really?!” You jumped from your seat, and immediately tumbled back down to your knees. The hunger sucked the energy out of your muscles, and left you with limbs that defied your every wish. 

Chan was by your side immediately, wrapping his hand around your rail-thin arm. “Yeah, and I brought food, so you all can relax.”

The room broke down in relief, sighs and cries falling from left and right. The grumbles from their stomach sounded louder than ever. 

Chan slunk a shredded sack from over his shoulder, opening it up to reveal piles of delicate products—peaches, Hawaiian rolls, jerky. Instantaneously, the whole room charged forward on their fragile hands and feet to grab a serving.

When everyone had their piece, they laid back against the wall with renewed vigor, sated and lively. The smell of copper, sugar, and meat wafted through the air. Chan downed a bottle of water and tossed it to the side.

“Now, we just need to wait for the sun to come up, and bear till the afternoon.”

ii. dew

Exiting the bunker cellar brought forth both revelatory and crushing realizations. A new smell met your nose, rancid, and it wasn’t from the thick mush of coagulated blood and torn flesh strewn across the lawn. It was the aftermath left stuck on the grass.

“Usually, after nights like that, the smell of the morning is supposed to be, you know, pleasant,” droned Jisung. “It feels like we woke up in hell.”

“Isn’t it?” Changbin quipped. “But, yeah, this isn’t how it was last time we were out.”

“Feels like climate change gave us its worst,” Sana took large steps to maneuver out of the way of the grass. When everyone gathered to the middle of the street, away from the festering puddles, it was time to consider your odds.

“At least we picked on a pattern,” you said, eyes following the ruptured cords from power-line to power-line. They had stopped sparking with life. “But are we sure this isn’t happening elsewhere? I mean, it’s acid rain. Pretty sure that isn’t location-locked.”

“Before the electricity cut off, I searched for news from everywhere. If psychotic raindrops were falling in anywhere major, it would be an epidemic. Hell, if it even rained in the next town over we’d know. The con of living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, besides the obvious, is that we are truly out of sight and out of mind.”

The group shivered with the truth of Chan’s words. Everyone bore a face of both hopefulness and cynicism as they toyed with the future of the town. 

“Think the cars still work?” Jisung mulled, “Or did the rain kill those, too?”

“Only one way to find out.”

iii. forewarning

“Got a little caught in the rain?” You mused. Hyunjin dashed into the restaurant, soaked down to the bone. A group dinner to celebrate your promotion at work was planned since the announcement, although now very hastily carried out due to the sudden weather. 

A waiter came moments before, and at numerous times, each to which were turned away in consideration for those who hadn’t made it yet. It started looking bleak—and understandably so, until Hyunjin finally pulled through at the door. The rest of the group chuckled lightheartedly; Chan pulled back a chair for him to seat. 

A fist smashed it to its side. 

“Hyunjin?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, just barely loud enough for you to catch. He pulled the seat back up, and threw his coat over it with abandon. Your friends’ liveliness diminished considerably, with every head turning towards the other. A cautious concernment battled the air, with Seungmin being the first to confront it. 

He rested a hand over Hyunjin’s fist, whom now sat with a face full of red and eyes casted down at his lap. 

“You alright there?” Seungmin started, pausing to look over the group, then tried again. “Did you miss the bus? Are you angry you’re late? It’s fine, you know. You can talk—”

Hyunjin erupted from his seat, staring down at Seungmin with irrational indignation. He clenched his lips, then slowly, quietly began to speak. “Don’t push me. I am not in the mood for this.”

You could tell he was holding something/himself back, but the curtness of his words startled you all the same. The rest of the group—Mina, Changbin, Jisung, Minho, Sana, and Chan—all gaped. Seungmin pulled his hands back and held up his arms, sweat building at his temple. You watched his features morph with his thoughts, and just when Hyunjin’s anger seemingly simmered, he braved his next words.

“Forgive me—”

Hyunjin swung. 

You heard it before you saw it. The sound of bone cracking against bone, the wet splats of blood upon tableware, it all made your stomach churn, and you dry heaved at the sight of Hyunjin aiming again. Your friends gasped, screamed, and scrambled away from the table as Chan raced for Hyunjin, but it was too late. Hyunjin’s fists met with Seungmin stronger than before with the buildup of his rage. Their faces almost held the same shade of red, but the color covered just as much ground. 

The entire restaurant followed your steps, spreading chaos where they looked on in shock. 

Chan stopped Hyunjin from placing another blow, but Seungmin already laid unconscious between the crimson rows of chairs. “Hey! Hey! Come on, man! What are you doing?”

“Shut up!” Hyunjin shoved Chan off and turned around to face him. This wasn’t Hyunjin, it couldn’t be. He looked and behaved all too unfamiliar, and within the depths of his eyes, he saw the same. He stared at Chan as though he were a stranger, a nobody, and in a split-second, an enemy. 

He thrusted at Chan and narrowly missed. 

“Chan!” you screamed and nearly bounded for him, tripping over the dozens of disorder limbs in your way. Hyunjin snapped his head and you saw the shift in his focus. He took a step towards you, unrestrained, before your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his waist and threw him down to the floor. 

The restaurant’s workers decided to pull their weight—aiding Chan in confining a thrashing Hyunjin to the ground. A server grappled for Hyunjin’s waist. In that moment, Chan let go, for a second’s reprieve, to find a stronger grasp, or to spit some sense into Hyunjin’s face—you weren’t sure which; everything happened in a blur—Chan being shoved off, Hyunjin flying for the waiter, his fists connecting to his face, blood, shrieking, Chan burrowing you in his chest, tears full of fear running down your cheeks. 

“What’s going on?!” you cried, “He’s beating his face in!”

Chan’s ragged breaths met your ears, and his arms squeezed you in a deathly grip. You backed both of you into a corner along with the others, the sound of rain drumming harder with a sense of mayhem. All this confusion, the uproar inside your brain, you screamed for an answer, his, God’s, anyone who knew the truth. Chan’s tears fell alongside yours, and thwarted, he conceded. 

“I don’t know!” 

His hands balled in your hair, his eyes buried over the crown of your head. And the storm raged on, thunder clapping to the beat of Hyunjin’s fists.

iv. outrage

“Run.”

Shrieks echoed between every nook and cranny of the abandoned school building as you bounded down the halls. You were forced to break with your group, lest you fall victim to one who was in the group.

The sight of the school was first a sign of hope, a shaky breath of air, as you all barely escaped the downfall of the rain. And barely, indeed, since not all of you were lucky. Jisung sludged slowly behind the group, and when the first sound of thunder rang throughout the woods, he struggled kicking his feet quicker. For when it rained, it downpoured; and when the canopy could no longer protect him, he was doused with the sparkings of rage. 

He reached for Changbin, also soaked with the sky-fallen petrol, and strangled him. 

The rest of the group safely arrived at the building and collapsed, not in exhaustion or thirst or hunger, but with a chest-aching hopelessness. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. And you all swore that you had enough time to make it—instead, Jisung made it at the steps before anyone could react.

“Close the door!” 

Minho’s screams sounded from somewhere behind you, but you stayed put behind Chan’s back as he clearly tussled with the thought of blocking off another despair-stricken friend. His fingers clenched and unclenched around the door’s handle, and Jisung stomped closer and closer to your team. By then, you could already predict Chan’s next action, as a man with too much faith in his heart and fists too soft to land blows, he welcomed him in.

“Run!”

Fortunately, Chan’s legs were much too fast for Jisung to catch, but that just left the rest of you. 

Now, you all raced between rooms all familiar and yet alien, as the rain from the past week seemed to have already eroded its walls. It’s decrepit and menacing, and all around not a place you’d like to see Judgment Day in.

You avoided every footfall, chased every moonlight, and studied the rainstorm. You’d assume that with enough trained practice, this night should end without any more blood spilled. With enough luck and mercy on your side, you’ll all regroup, away from the terror of Jisung hunt for broken flesh. Maybe, all you guys needed was time and patience and separation. Maybe, the rain, the cursed rain, would drown out Jisung’s prowling footsteps and the shuffling of yours.

Your steps. 

His steps.

Chan’s steps.

Whose…? 

The steps—they wouldn’t stop coming in all directions. They grew louder with every step backward you took, and grew quiet when you stood still. Every now and again screams could be heard, and they repeated as the moon sailed through the night sky, blissfully unaware—a luxury that you could not be afforded. You prayed for the hiding to end, for Jisung’s rampage to quiet, for your friends and partner to escape to safety. But as each star grew brighter, as though mocking your situation, its reality settled heavy on your shoulders. 

You were never going to see your friends again.

v. new find

A male figure laid with only skin and bones. His arms crossed over his stomach as though he died hanging onto what little remained in it. You didn’t approach, too disheartened by the reality of your situation to take a closer look. Chan clearly felt differently, because he stepped closer to kneel over the body. You sighed.

“Another person starved,” you bemoaned, “That could’ve been us.”

Chan kept his silence, opting instead to rearrange the figure despite your protests. Wincing, you turn your flashlight towards something less gruesome. 

“He didn’t starve,” Chan whispered. 

“Huh?”

“He definitely did not starve,” Chan repeated, rising to full-height. He took a step back, knocking against a wall, a jittery finger pointed at the body. He struggled to spit out his words. “He ate. His lips, his clothes, his hands—full of blood.”

Confusion swirled in your mind. You flashed your light back at the body, but remained in your spot—the thought of seeing further detail made your stomach twist in knots. But the light reflected just enough for you to see; viscera were loosely wrapped around his limbs, yet you couldn’t spot a single open wound or injury on him. 

“W-what do you think this means?” you didn’t want to think deeper on this topic. You wished you could turn your brain off instead. “Surely it could have been an animal, right? Rats must be everywhere.”

“All animals had died since the very first time it rained,” Chan said grimly. You could feel him turn to look at you, but you refused to lift your gaze from the ground. “You know what this means. You’ve seen it.”

You gulped. The truth was there. 

“I have.”

vi. is it rage?

A drop of rain fell onto your hand. 

It soaked there, for just a second. The fear in your stomach almost vanquished, replaced instead with a false sense of relief, pride, and wisdom. You had almost cheered—it isn’t the rain that’s changing people! But then it absorbed.

You felt it in your chest first—thrumming violently near your heart. It made your heart feel like a muscle, a real muscle that grew tougher and stiffer with every pump. It made your blood prod against your veins, seeking exit in holes that didn’t exist. But in the end, it made its own and tinted your vision with red splotches, boiling out the skin of your face one pour at a time.

It grew maddening, terrible, and seared through your stomach in bouts of bile, venom and spite. Your lover’s face flashed inside your mind, and in the next bruised, burnt, and pummeled. Each image ticked with a new injury, a new mutilation and somehow it was the only thing that calmed the fire underneath your ribcage. You gurgled with the little space left inside your lungs.

Your limbs twitched. Your ears pulsed. 

A drop of rain fell onto your hand. 

Blood followed next.

— An All-Consuming Rage

[mandadoration]

hound - vii.

summary: You head to Canto Bight to gather more information about a bounty of yours when you’re ambushed and drugged. Your relationship with Mando is ever confusing.  

word count: 3, 200

pairing: mandalorian x mandalorian!reader

Warnings: non-consensual drug use, swearing, sexually suggestive content, canon-typical violence

a/n: I know I said I wouldn’t update this until next week... But are you complaining? If you follow this story on AO3, you will see that I predict that there will be 14 chapters total!

chapters: i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii  

Read this on AO3

You vaguely remember Mando saying that Canto Bight was nice this time of year, back when you were bleeding all over the floor of the Razor Crest and half delirious. As you fly in, the bright lights of the city almost make your head hurt. You’ve been here once a long time ago, you remember, for an emergency landing that had cost you an arm and a leg just so that you could leave your rented ship overnight. 

It’s a bit of a rough landing about a mile or so away from the city, landing somewhere in an unlit, grassy area, scaring some fathiers away. You head to the back to suit up, Mando trailing after you. 

“We’re looking for someone by the name of Desdre,” he informs. “He was a part of the same intergalactic gang as the bounty. He says he’ll tell us where Jahjon is in exchange for our word that we won’t turn him in.” You tilt your head. It seems suspicious that he was willing to give such precious information in return for safety. There’s no doubt the same thought has crossed his mind. 

“Will we?” you ask. Mando scoffs and slings his rifle over his shoulder and tucks ammo away. 

“We’ll see,” he says curtly, and leaves the ship. You tuck in a few more medshots into your vambrace and check the fuel for your flamethrower and follow him like a shadow. 

--

You don’t feel underdressed, exactly, but in the glitz and glamour of the glitter and expensive fabrics, you and Mando stick out like a sore thumb with your scratched up beskar and arsenal. If Mando is affected by the stares and whispers that follow you, he doesn’t show it. He goes through the alleyways and backstreets of Canto Bight, past the drugged-out spice users and teens using deathsticks, past the couples and trios and straight up orgies on the streets. You’re not quite sure where he’s going, but you stick close to him, warily watching the rooftops. Eventually, he stops at an ornate wooden door, and knocks three times. 

“Who is it?” a singsongy voice calls out. The door swings open to reveal a very scantily dressed man, gold paint rimming his dark eyes, face flushed from drinking and eyes red from spice. He pushes his curly hair up and out of his face, the bangles on his wrist jingling, eyeing you and Mando up and down hungrily. “Oh hello there,” he purrs, and practically lounges against the doorframe. “Mandalorians? What brings you here to my humble abode?” You shift your eyes away from his searching gaze to look beyond him and into the room. Moans and giggles drift into the open air. Did Mando just bring you to drug den?

“We’re looking for Desdre,” Mando answers. “Urgent business.” The man raises a carefully plucked eyebrow and squints his eyes. 

“Like what?” he questions. There are hickies and bruises lining his throat.

“None of your business, that’s for sure,” Mando says, and you think that the man is about to refuse you entry, but his face breaks into a charming smile and motions for you two to come in. 

“Be my guest,” he drawls. He doesn’t move from his position, and forces you and Mando to brush past him, and you grit your teeth as you feel hands feel you up. Judging by the sudden tense shoulders, the same has happened to Mando. The man’s voice leans in close and you do your best to try not flinch from the sudden wave of perfume and musk. His grip on your wrist is hot. “If you and your friend ever decide to come back, not on business, just ask for Pretre, hm?” he whispers, voice low and wanton. You quickly pull yourself away from him, ignoring how he laughs, and follow Mando to the back. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a Mando!” his voice calls out after you. 

The further back into the room you go, the less clothes there are, and the more blissed out the people look. Eventually, you come to an area of the room blocked off by velveteen curtains. You push through it, and wince.

You didn’t think that people wore those gold metal bikinis willingly. 

Still, it’s better than nothing, and your gaze settles on a man, sitting in the center of the pile of blankets and soft pillows, covered by a thin robe, pulling his face from the neck of an attractive Twi’lek whose hands are tangled in his dark hair, and grinning when he sees you and Mando. A few men and women peel themselves off of the floor to prowl around you. It’s hazy in here from smoke and stifling from all the bodies. The lights from outside are barely trickling in, heavy curtains on every window, and your eyes strain to adjust.

“Desdre,” Mando says. You scowl under your helmet as you grab the wrist of someone who was feeling up your leg. 

“Mando!” Desdre crows. He flourishes his arm out. “Come sit! You and your friend- please, relax.” Neither of you move, and Desdre at least has the decency to look a little sheepish. “Well, can I offer you something to drink? Some spice? Or a girl?” he offers, waggling his eyebrows. 

“We’re not here to waste time,” Mando says. Desdre sighs and gets up, soothing the girls that whine and ruffling the hair of a boy that kisses his calf as he moves to stand in front of you and Mando, pipe dangling in his fingers.

“Always business, Mando, and no play,” he complains in a lilting accent. “Who’s your friend?” He trails a finger up your armor before tapping it a couple of times. “Another Mandalorian?” He takes a deep drag from his pipe and blows sickly sweet smoke in your face. Although your helmet filters out most of it, the smell still makes your head ring. 

“Yes.”

“Hm, interesting,” he hums. He stares intensely at you. 

“Jahjon. You said know where he is?” Mando asks. Desdre nods, and goes back to join his harem, leaning back languidly as they crawl over him again. He teasingly smacks the rear of someone you can’t quite see.

“I do, my friend,” he says. “But remember what I asked for? My safety guaranteed for information.” At that, more people slip in the room past the dividing curtains. You count in your head. There’s seven people in here now, all looking at you like you’re their next meal. 

“You have our word,” Mando says, but Desdre clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“I need to hear it from both of you,” he orders, his piercing gaze looking straight at you. You clench your jaw, and you want to smack the smug grin from his face. “I’ve heard about you, you know? The Dog? Loyal to your master and hunting together. I’ve heard you’re ruthless in the field.” All the heads in the room have turned to look at you in unison, and you would’ve found it unsettling if there wasn’t a cold weight settling in your stomach. “Especially how that poor Gran came back in pieces, body mangled like he’d been bashed in.” He’s playing you, you know it, and you shouldn’t let it affect you, but your temper is uncharacteristically short. “Your bite really is worse than your bark, huh? I wonder what you’re like in bed. If you fuck as brutally as you kill.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Mando finally says frustratedly. He steps forward. “If you won’t help us--”

“You have my word,” you grit out, interrupting Mando. You hate this. You hate how you’ve become notorious and people have started assuming, more bold and daring, pushing your buttons and bending you, expecting you to break. You hate that people have started twisting the facts about you to make you more vicious, more blood-thirsty and unforgiving when that’s not anywhere remotely close to the truth. You don’t know how it’s come to this. You haven’t really even done anything remotely interesting. As far as you’re concerned, you’re nobody. A Mandalore without a clan who doesn’t even know why there are people so curious about you. You think the world is against you, using your moment of weakness where your nightmares have been gnawing at you to try and knock you down, degrading you down to a feral animal. You want to prove them wrong. You’ve bled for Mando to know you're human, and you really don’t want to bleed again.

“And so she speaks,” Desdre says, looking pleasantly surprised, and Mando glances at you. “Mando finally took the muzzle off you?”

But you decide to play the part of that mangy mutt, and bare your teeth.

You don't know what it is that made you do it, what possessed you to make such a rash decision, but you pull the blaster from your holster and point it at Desdre. 

“Jahjon. Where is he?” you demand, voice low and dangerous. The people flocking on either side of Desdre scramble away. 

“Dog,” Mando hisses. “Put that down.” You ignore him and stalk closer, your blaster still carefully trained. Desdre doesn’t even look fazed. He looks at you curiously. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Something’s wrong. Your limbs feel too heavy and the room is spinning. It’s too bright in here, even in low-light. 

“Answer me,” you bark. Your grip wavers, and Desdre smiles. 

“I don’t know.” 

“What?”

Mando walks up to stand close to you and tries to pull your arm back, but you wrench it out his grip, and accidentally fire into the ceiling. 

The room descends into chaos. 

Desdre stumbles back, and his little harem get up, looking alert, drawing their own weapons, and as more people flood into the room, surrounding you, you know what this is. 

Desdre never had the intentions to tell you anything. 

And this was an ambush. 

You fire your blaster a few more times, hitting Desdre in the leg and another shot going through the chest of a half-naked humanoid that you can barely make out from your blurred vision before it’s knocked out of your hand. You lash out, your fist catching the jaw of some other poor soul, sending them flying back and taking two more down with them. Your vambrace shoots out a medshot, knocking the Twi’lek he was kissing before out, and your grappling line tangles around their ankle. Yanking on it, another harem girl stumbles over them. 

A staff knocks you over the head, increasing the ringing that’s building up in your ears. You whip around to see Mando shoot them with his own blaster, their body falling limp at your feet. He’s got blood smeared on his chestplate as he fights around the small room. It’s too cramped and too risky to use his amban rifle, but overall, most of the attackers are already dead or knocked out, too drugged up and sluggish to take down two Mandalorians. A tap on your shoulder distracts you. You turn around, fists raised, but a sharp pain twinges in your neck. It’s Pretre, and the gold paint in around his eyes sparkles as you raise a hand and pull out a syringe. Your chest feels tight as you drop it. It shatters on the ground, red liquid seeping out and soaking into the carpet. 

“I forgot that your helmet filters,” he says. Pretre’s voice sounds slow and deep as the room starts to tilt. “I was wondering why it took so long for this to happen. Luckily I had this. My brother is too incompetent. Ah, well, hindsight, you know?” A smile plays on his lips, and you wonder why you hadn’t seen the resemblance before. A wave of pleasure rides over you, but then it starts dragging you down, making your eyelids heavy.

“You… what?” you ask stupidly. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and fire is dancing across your skin. “What did you…?” Everything’s muffled. He puts a hand on your chest and gives the gentlest of pushes, but it topples you over as you collapse on the ground. He stands over you, a pitying smile on his face, showing the barest of white teeth. You vaguely register Mando’s voice calling out to you, but it’s cut off and there’s more blaster fire. 

“I do hope I didn’t give you too much,” Pretre sighs. He bends down and crouches next to you, running a single finger down the length of your helmet, dragging a finger across your neck, nails digging in. “Oh dear. Maybe just a smidge too much… Just ride it out, and you’ll be fine.” He hooks a finger under your helmet, and you cry out weakly, but you’re arms are too heavy and your mind is too light to stop him. Just as he finds the button to release your helmet, something catches his attention. His head snaps up and he pulls away. “Next time,” he promises, “and my offer still stands.” He leaves you on the floor, and your vision is swimming, the ceiling and tapestries on the wall swirling together as you feel sweat dripping down your neck. Whatever Pretre put in you was making you burn up and feel sickly. You hear panting next to your ear. You turn your head--

-- and there’s a strill snarling in your face. 

You reel back, away from its dripping jowls as it pads closer to you. It bays at your sudden reaction, and more hounds appear, surrounding you as you gasp in shallow breaths and scramble away, tripping over bodies and pillows in your effort to get away. They follow you, eyes red and glowing as they bare their sharp teeth at you. Their claws are tearing up the carpet underneath them. The strills come closer and closer, but your back is already up against the wall, and your blaster is too far out of your reach. The one in the front, the biggest and angriest of the pack, goes right to your face, nose touching your helmet, and you close your eyes and curl into yourself as howling echoes in your ears. 

“Dog!” 

Your head snaps up. The hounds are gone, and Mando is hovering over you. He holds out your blaster for you to take. 

“We have to go,” he says, out of breath as he looks around. “That stupid kid who met us at the door- he took Desdre and left. We have to leave before more come.” You stare at him blankly. Where had the dogs gone? When you look, the carpet in front of you is intact and whole, and there’s no slobber. You slowly reach up to take the blaster, holding it in your hand. You pull yourself up, head swiveling as the howling picks up again. 

“Did you hear that?” you choke out. You wave the blaster wildly as you spin to try and find the source. 

“Hey, calm down--” You jerk back as his hand rests on your shoulder. His voice is loud and booming in your ears. Spots dance in your vision as Mando grabs your hand and tugs you along, through the curtains, through the now-empty room, and into the alley ways of Canto Bight. The lights are bright and sends piercing pains up your head as you stumble along. 

“Mando,” you gasp out. It’s getting harder and harder to keep your feet under you. You think you hear dogs running behind you, but every glance back comes up empty. 

“What?” he grunts, pulling you into another winding backstreet. Bile rises up in your throat with each yank. 

“Mando,” you call out again. There are phantom hands against your throat and you can’t breathe. “Mando.” He finally stops and pulls you into an alcove. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he hisses, and then he takes in you heaving shoulders, your choked out pleas, and hold your head in his hands. He calls your name, your real name, soft and pleading, and that’s when it peaks. 

You faintly register how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you collapse like a puppet with its strings cut, Mando just barely managing to catch you before you can hit your head. But his hands add on to your discomfort as it feels like there are thousands upon thousands of hand pulling, tugging, and scratching you, around your throat and holding your arms and legs down. A panic swells in you and you struggle to get away and push the hands off you. It’s smothering, the suffocation in your lungs and your head making you dizzy. It feels like they’re trying to pry your helmet off, but as you go through the streets of Canto Bight, jostling in someone’s arms, you realize it feels like they’re trying to rip your head from your shoulders and tear you limb from limb.

You think you hear screaming, and as more and more things come into focus, you realize it’s you. You shoot up from your cot, gasping and Mando shushes you and calms you down. You flail around, trying to make sense of things. 

You can breath, finally, as the recycled air of the Razor Crest buzzes over you. And you realize it’s light outside. 

“How long--”

“Just a day,” Mando answers, and he sounds exhausted. You wonder if he stayed up to make sure you were okay. “What happened?”

“Drugged,” you say. “I… I don’t know what it was.”

“You were freaking out,” he starts, “horribly. You were screaming and trying to claw your own skin off, talking about dogs and strills.” He eyes you warily, taking in your hunched stance and bouncing knees. “You wanna talk about it?”

And although you know you should, that those hallucinations are fresh and feels as real as memories, the words die in your throat as you clam up. “I can’t,” you admit. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you, I just--” Mando abruptly stands up. 

“It’s fine,” he says, but his tone is short and you can tell he’s irritated. “I’ve located the last of the bounties. We’ll be there in a few hours.” He leaves to go back up the cockpit and you tamp down the urge to bang your head against the wall. The emotional stalemate is driving you up the wall. You can’t understand why Mando is upset you can’t confide in him when he himself is the most closed off person you’ve ever met. If anything, you’ve given him more than he has. After a moment, you go meet up with him. 

You see a red liquid shimmering in a vial in his pocket. He follows your gaze to see what you’re staring at, and he pulls it out and hands it to you. “Mnemiotic drug,” he says. “Imps used it all the time. That’s what they gave you. Modified, but the base is the same. Hallucinations, raised body temperature, heightened aggression, increased sensitivity. Brain damage in extreme cases.”

“What happened to Pretre and Desdre?” you ask him. He doesn’t need to describe the effects if you’ve lived through them. 

“They got what they deserved,” he says, and leaves it at that. 

--

Hound Tag List: @knockbeforeyouspeak​​ @gothtechie​ @killtherandomness​