#scout is full of anger he is full of rage

[lovebunnie]

the night spy decides to leave, scout’s mother finds him in the doorway with his back turned to her.

“oh,” she whispered between them, “not even a goodbye, i guess.”

spy turned around, eyes red rimmed and bags heavy under his eyes. she looked at his handsome face and how it seemed to be melting off of him, charming grin pulled into a miserable frown.

“ma chère... i am sorry.” spy spoke quietly as to not rouse the many many children. “truly, i am.”

“doesnt matter,” scout’s mother replied as she walked towards the man. “you can feel any damn way about it, but it won’t stop you from leaving, will it?”

spy sighed and looked at her slippers. they were worn from too many hasty trips outside to get mail, pick up trash, run an errand. “i wish it would.”

she extended her hand and guided the man’s face to look up at her, thumb carefully tracing the cloth around his eyes.

“ya haven’t been the first, but i hope to god you’ll be the last,” she whispered. “my boys can’t go thro this shit again, not with another man in their lives leaving. I only have so many excuses as to where your body ended up.”

“feel free to make my death as bloody as you like,” he murmured. “embarrass the hell out of me, i don’t mind.” spy inhaled the last smell of pine sol and mothballs as he turned to leave, forcing his feet to move.

she stepped back and folded her arms into her robe to keep herself from dragging him back into their house; her life was so defined by men and she promised herself that she wouldn’t let this happen again. even if this man came back, she would not give herself up wholly. too much of her heart had been given to men who had run off, any remaining fragments would stay with her children. she would not be alone, not ever, not with her sons. all her boys had been through the same song and dance, all of them except-

“jeremy will never forgive you,” she found herself calling out to him. “i’ll be mad as hell, but eventually i’ll find forgiveness for you in my heart. but jeremy... there won’t be anything that can make him forgive you if you walk out the door.”

spy clenched his jaw to bite back a retort. but he knew there was nothing more to say.

scout’s mother let her arms fall to her sides. “you’ll spend the rest of your life, doing whatever the hell it is you do. you’ll kill people, rid yourself of enemies and you’ll tell yourself you’re free from scorn. you will think one day you are free of those who hold hatred for you.”

she stepped closer, close enough to watch the man’s shoulders tense up.

“but there will be a little boy in boston, who will always hold a little bit of hatred just for you.”

after a moment, spy turned around. but she had already gone back to bed.

[cozzzynook]

Angsty Anon back with part 3. Ft: Starscream's POV

A deadly still chill filled the dark purple halls of the Nemesis as the SIC slowly walked down its halls. Dread filled the seeker's spark the closer he got to the office, he knew what this was about and he hated it with every glimmer of his spark. Taking a deep vent Starscream settled his nerves as he straightened his back as he came to a stop outside the office door and with one servo he knocked on the door.

"Come in" The voice on the other side rumbled.

Starscream then entered the office, his wings flicked as he slowly walked up to the desk before pausing just in front of it. "You wanted to see me Lord Megatron?"

Megatron slowly raised his gaze from the data pad he was currently reading through. The tank's optics narrowed sharply as he cleared his intake while his field flicked with waves of disappointment. "Yes I did Starscream. As for the reason I'm sure you are very aware?"

The seeker's wings fluttered nervously as he lowered his gaze slightly. "Ah...that. I assure you that was a complete accident! Skywarp was messing around with his outlier ability again then he-"

"Not that!" Megatron growled as his plating flared slightly while his red optics burned with anger. "I'm talking about them, Starscream...not your Trine Mates" The large grey mech had finally stood up to his full height and slowly began to slowly circle the seeker like a hungry Sharkacon. "But I'd must admit...its been months since you promised me you'll get a-hold of the sparkling, yet no results. Perhaps I should revoke my end of our little deal, hm?"

Starscream bit his glossa as he felt his spark burn with both anger and worry. He then flared out both his wings and plating as he narrowed his optics as he let out a low growl rumble in his intake. "You promised you wouldn't bring any harm to him! You can't revoke that!"

Megatron smirked as a cruel chuckle escaped him as he loomed over the seeker, his shadow casting a deadly warning most feared. "I did promise, but that was if you kept your end of our deal and I don't see your sparkling among our ranks Starscream" The grey tank took another step closer until he could faintly feel the seeker's field twist and turn with both fear and anger. "So what shall it be? Either you bring your sparkling here and I keep my word or...you'll never see that yellow scout again, do you understand?"

Starscream balled his servos into fists as anger slowly prickled and burned itself into his frame. He hated this! He hated everything about this! The seeker wanted to turn back time and slap himself in the face for getting himself into this mess in the first place. "Fine...I'll head into the Autobot base tonight. I'll see what I can do..." He then lowered his helm in order to avoid seeing those optics staring at him.

"A wise choice Starscream" The tank rumbled as he finally stopped circling the seeker like prey. "I'll have Soundwave assist you with the security cameras. Oh and don't fail this time, my patience is wearing thin these days..."

"Understood my Lord" The seeker grumbled as he slowly turned and headed for the door. He quickly looked over his shoulder one last time to make sure Megatron wasn't watching his every move before he finally slipped back into the hall. Once he was far enough away from the office Starscream finally let his bottled rage finally escape, letting out a frustrated snarl he punched his servo into the smooth purple wall. He felt some satisfaction watching the cracks form on the wall but it did little to drown out the dread and regret in his spark.

"Oh forgive me little Bee...I put you into this mess. I put you both into this mess" Starscream placed his helm into his servos as he slowly sank onto the floor with his back against the cracked wall. His wings drooped low as another wave of guilt washed over him. "I'm going to get you both out of this, somehow...I'm sorry" At lest for now he prayed tonight that this mission of his would go horribly wrong. At least then both his former conjunx and sparkling will be safe.

Yoooooooo 👏🏽 this is so good!!

[sketchnskribbles]

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

The rhythmic clacking of keys echoed through the main room of the hidden mesa base. The noise was level. Controllable. Soothing. A familiar presence. One of the few things that this organic planet had in common with his wonderful homeworld.

It brought a sense of ease that lulled him into the calm of a mindless task. A quiet chore that brought a peace that he could hardly find at any other point within this senseless war. 

A silent alarm popped up in the bottom right corner of his screen and he gritted his denta at the reminder that the children were nearly done with their last day of school before summer break. Because that was just what they needed. Sparklings underpede. 

He shuttered his optics, stretched his digits, and continued his current job. He only had a few short earth hours before the next two months. Which would be filled with youngling fun and fancy free. An absolute boon to the war effort, he was sure. Note the sarcasm. 

He pushed away the souring thoughts. They wouldn't serve anything other than ruin his mood more than it already was. 

He'd gotten back into his groove when a Deception proximity alarm screamed through the mesa. 

A window concerning the potential danger popped up in front of his work and he nearly threw one of his tools in a fit of rage. He didn't, as he was a fully grown cybertronian and he needed those tools.

He maximized the window and narrowed his optics at the information. The signal was unknown. Meaning that it wasn't of any decepticon that they'd been in contact with since they'd moved into this mesa. Magnificent. He wished yet again that they had access to Teletraan I. But Primus-only-knew where the Ark was in this blasted universe.

The bot sighed and notified his team of the disturbance. He got four acknowledgements and ETAs. The heavy pedefalls of his oldest and closest friend coming near brought down some of his frustrated anger. He breathed in a deep breath and closed out of all his open programs. Leaving only the map showing the signal.

Moving away from his monitors, he turned around to greet his Prime. "Optimus."

"Ratchet." The deep baritone welcomed back. The Prime settled his hand on his shoulder plating and giving it a comforting squeeze, as he walked past. He peered at the screens to oversee the tripped alarm and hummed in consideration. That familiar gleam of the infamous strategist brightened up his gaze. "It is of unknown origin."

"Indeed. A new menace to grapple with." The older bot rolled his eyes.

"Or… perhaps a weary soul in need of better allies?" The Prime retorted back with his usual bout of hope.

"As if any Con would understand the meaning of the word." The medic huffed. "You expect too much out of thieves, societal rejects, and ex-convicts."

For a moment, the taller bot looked surprised. Then pained. Ratchet felt a lurch at his spark when he actually took the time to analyze his words. 

He blinked and pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor. There he went, shoving his pede into his derma. Again. "I… I'm sorry Optimus. That came out wrong."

"But full of truth." His leader gently chided. That look of disappointment never faltered. Ratchet sighed and looked away.

"I am sorry. You know of my past and how I was raised… but that is no excuse." Ratchet felt the familiar weight of his friend's servo land back on his shoulder. A comforting weight. Forgiving. The old bot looked back over to the younger mech. They smiled.

Optimus looked back up to the signal and then teasingly back down to the medic. "What do you say we scout out the signal together? It's rather close to being time for our charges to be picked up by their guardians."

"I'd say we're asking for trouble."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound like a no to me." Optimus had already inserted the coordinates into the ground bridge, powering it up. 

Ratchet felt the tell tale of a ping reverberate through him. One that he was sure was felt by the rest of the team. It notified the rest of their orders from the Prime, to retrieve their humans and to join them at base on standby at the soonest opportunity.

There were more pings that flew in soon after. Full of complaints and acknowledgments. They were happily ignored as the two walked through the gate. 

It led into a road through a forest of trees. 

From the position specified on their internal maps, they were about a couple hours away from the heavily populated city of Los Angeles.

It was honestly not too far away from their own home base in Nevada. Less than a day, even. Which was much too close for comfort in Ratchet's opinion. 

He followed Optimus through the trees. Their optics to the skies as they scanned for the source of the signature. It didn't take very long to find the jet. 

They heard the engine long before they caught sight of it. A worryingly familiar palette of purple and black made it ever obvious just who it was, despite the unfamiliar altmode.

" Skywarp." Ratchet growled, his optics narrowing at the jet above. 

He slipped a servo into his subspace and brought out a tiny gadget given to him by Wheeljack. The wrecker had created it on a whim and given it to the medic proclaiming that it needed to be "field-tested" by the team. 

He hadn't yet brought it up with Optimus. A fact that was backed up when the Prime looked down at the medic's arm cannon in confusion while Ratchet inserted the device within a small port that seamlessly opened up.

"...What is that, old friend?" Optimus looked back up to meet Ratchet's optics, wariness pooling in his own. The medic didn't hold the same concerns.

"Jackie said he needed this field-tested. So here it is!" His answer didn't seem to be to his leader's satisfaction.

"Ratchet… let's not be too hasty." A servo found its way over top of his weapon. With enough pressure to imply that he needed to put it down, rather than forcing him to do so. The medic rolled his optics.

"If all goes well, it'll merely incapacitate him. Not kill him. Wheeljack knows of how you operate and wouldn't dare to go outside of those bounds." Ratchet looked over to his old friend, the corners of his lips curling downward the slightest bit. "For all my misgivings with him, I know he respects you too much to do something like that."

With that said, the old medic took aim. An optic closed as he aligned the sights with the plane overhead. He took the shot.

The old bot turned around to smile with pride at his leader, as the plane stalled in the distance. Blue arches of electricity danced along Skywarp’s frame as he was forced down to the ground by gravity.

“I'm quite surprised you actually agreed to test it, old friend.” Optimus sighed and shook his head when the ground shook and a few of the trees ahead cracked and fell. 

“Oh, no. I've run test after test on my terminal on this thing. Also checked the power output and many other things.” Ratchet nullified with a shrug. “I kind of liked the idea of temporarily incapacitating a foe. Just too bad that some of the materials to obtain it are either expensive or hard to obtain.”

“Is that so?” Optimus began his trek forward toward the decepticon. His medic, right on his heels.

A03 | Rectifying Fallacies

[5eraphim]

HGHHBK I love your work! Everything is so well written and just amazing.

Can I request yandere Scout eating out captive reader as a form of punishment because they tried to escape the night before?

This wound up being a bit longer than i thought it would, but i feel like that happens every time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ , I liked your premise a lot anon, I hope this works for ya! I wanted to write this to make up for how much I've bullied him, like in (this post lol) and actually this one too, yes this is a dark!scout story, but canon scout is a sweet boy who is kinda pig-headed, but genuinely means well and i like to think of him as a frat boy wrapped around a boyscout's heart, and if he's your fave, i support you <3.

Character: The Scout 🐇 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: afab reader, dubcon, forced intimacy, oral (female receiving, scout is kinda weird about feet for a moment i guess?, biting, kidnapping, yandere, toxic relationship

Word Count: 3.4k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

(Song Inspo- Time is Running out, Muse)

"Wrath is the desire to repay what you have suffered." — Kaveh Akbar, from “Pilgrim Bell.”

Cornered, the walls were closing in, and you were stuck with nowhere left to go. Yet another escape attempt ending in failure, as you were practically dragged back to Scout's bedroom, the door slammed shut behind the two of you as you were pushed onto the shared bed, knowing well enough to stay put when he walked back to lock the door. You heard him speak in an uncharacteristically low voice. "Ya oughta know you'd need to be quicker than that to ditch me."

He was pissed, "No one is faster than me- Why did you even try!?" He glared at you, his bright blue eyes narrowed, teeth bared in aggression, his neck tense and left knuckles white where he gripped his bat. It wasn't uncommon for you to try and escape, but every time you tried, you swore you were caught and brought back faster than the last time. Not for lack of trying, but you were too weary to honestly try and fight back anymore; you learned quickly Scout was not afraid to do whatever it took to keep you in line, as well as often being blinded by his own rage and hurt you more than he intended in moments of high intensity. The situation was hopeless, but your resilience wasn't gone yet.

"Shut up already! I wasn't even trying to escape! God forbid I get a little fresh air-"

"You are so full of shit." He spat on the floor, leaning his bat against the bed as a warning as he stood over the side of the bed, arms crossed, looking down at you. "I know you were tryna run. Tell me why."

You shot back, "Take a wild guess-"

"No, go on; tell me why you wanna leave so bad since you think you know so much!" You made the dire mistake of underestimating his anger before, and you knew him well enough to know he wasn't in the mood to show you mercy. Scout's face was flushed red with rage and exhaustion. Being so naturally pale, he could never do much to hide his own anger. You wanted to fight back, to take out your frustrations on him, but while his metal bat was still within arm's length, you knew better. So you decided the wisest course of action now was to try and de-escalate things, to try and calm him down, you couldn't pull off your escape, but you prayed there was still some way you could make it through the night unharmed.

"Scout, please. I wasn't running away; you know I wouldn't do that to you." You sat up a little in bed, slowly inching away from his body, looming over the bed's side to sit with your back against the pillows, knees bent towards your chest, unbothered by the dirt you likely tracked onto the bed with your shoes, it's not like Scout would care either. But he didn't look convinced, and you sighed, "Scout, can't we just talk this over? I know you're confused and all, but just hear me out."

He didn't answer, gritting his teeth, crawling into bed over you suspiciously quiet. Thankfully, he was not yelling, but his fury was still clear as day on his face. At first, you tried to scoot over to the side and give him space to sit next to you, but he was quicker, keeping you pinned as he crawled over you. "Ya know, I'm getting real sick of you and your pissy little attitude. So I think, if you know what's good for ya- You're gonna lay down right here and stay nice and quiet for me."

You opened your mouth to say something, but the way he stared you down, almost challenging you to even try and keep resisting, killed the words before they could leave your mouth. For a second, the two of you appeared locked in place like that, making you feel like a deer caught in the headlights. While you knew it was dangerous to try and run away while he was on a mission, it wasn't until you were here and directly under Scout's mercy that you entirely realized how dangerous the situation was. While you and the rest of the team loved to tease Scout about his babyface and un-intimidating disposition when he wanted to be, Scout could be scary as any other. "So what's it gonna be, princess? Are you ready to say you're sorry?"

Meekly you nodded; the sound of your heart hammering in your chest made his threat all the more intimidating, forcing you to submit before things got even worse for you. It was hard to say anything now that your mouth had gone dry, nor could you think of what to say. But you managed a " Yes, Scout, " using all your strength to stay still and hide your fear the best you could. Earlier in the relationship, you remember crying at times like this, how terrified you were to face Scout's inner anger. Now you could hold in your tears, but the fear was as intense as ever.

"That's my good girl." You could practically feel your skin crawling every time he spoke using one of his cruel little pet names, his little way of trying to keep you feeling small and beaten down, to remind you how you were nothing compared to the likes of him. The pillows slightly propped up your upper body, your lower half lying flat against the mattress. Scout began to tug at your cotton t-shirt, you fumbled awkwardly, and he helped him get the garment off before he went to work on your bra, which you reluctantly shed to allow it to join your poor top abandoned on the floor below. You felt sick to your stomach, feeling him undressing you so effortlessly while you were forced to lay back and take it. You felt too embarrassed being bare-chested in front of Scout to look him in the eye, much less in such a compromising position, forcing you to stare pathetically off to the side, face hot with shame.

"Don't gimme that look; ya brought this on yourself. Remember that."

You cringed in dual disgust and apprehension when you felt his thin lips connecting with the bare sensitive flesh below your navel. The contact was surprisingly gentle coming from him, but this did nothing to calm your rising anxieties, he wasn't messing around this time, and you didn't want to imagine how far he would take this. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his tongue testingly swipe over your lower belly; the tiny wet trail left behind made you groan in the back of your throat as you wriggled in discomfort.

For a moment, he entertained himself by playing with the sensitive skin of your stomach, feeling goosebumps prickle as your clammy palms fisted at the bedsheets, your legs trying to remain still, despite twitching restlessly as he continued to tease. Then, Scout wrapped his arms around your naked torso, inhaling deeply and feeling your softness with his own face as he licked and kissed his lower and lower.

"Now let's getcha outta these."

As usual, he reacted without waiting for your response. Scout unwrapped his arms from under you, using them to help push himself all the way back to sitting on his knees over you, scooching back so he was leaning over your ankles. You didn't protest when you felt him pull off your shoes, a bit comforted by the feeling of the cool air through your socks. He absentmindedly dropped the shoes off the bed. You turned your gaze to the ceiling, nervously gripping the blanket and sheets with your clammy hands, waiting for him to strip you of the rest of your clothing with a likewise disregard. Scout caught you off guard by using two fingers to tickle the bottom of your feet, still covered by socks.

With an ugly choked-laughing sound, you glared back at Scout's all too-happy face. He pinched your little toe between his thumb and index finger, "Ticklish?"

He continued to use his fingers to trace up and down around the underside of your soles, the ticklish sensation still unpleasant but nowhere near as powerful now that you were no longer caught by surprise. In any other context, with any other person, the interaction might've been cute, but not like this. Your feet already felt hot and raw from trying to run away from the maniac, and the way he continued to tease the sensitive area felt beyond gross. You drew your feet away slightly, pressing the bottom of your feet to the mattress to prevent him from trying to touch you again. "You are so fucking weird." Scout merely shrugged, still smiling maliciously as he pulled down your socks. He dropped back down to his elbows to get his face nice and close to your legs, rubbing the side of his face over your legs. His soft cheek brushing against the top of your lower high gave you butterflies, a feeling of equal excitement and disturbance. What bothered you more was remembering that his actions were ones of lust and love as he looked at you with wide blue eyes, his smile much softer now. You wondered if maybe he wasn't trying to embarrass you earlier but genuinely trying to get you to laugh. Scout loved you with his entire heart, despite your best efforts.

For a few moments, he took great efforts to make himself as comfortable as possible, no doubt thinking in his mind his actions were as soothing to you, which, while you were glad he wasn't enraged enough by your betrayal to really hurt you, was still cold comfort. You swallowed hard, feeling him tracing his hands up the sides of your thighs to rub gentle little circles, inching closer and closer to the edge of your cut-off shorts. 

You felt your temperature climbing as he trailed kisses to the spot just above your knee up the length of your leg, again with a kind of romantic gentleness you'd never seen from him before. It disturbed you, and you hated how uncertain this made you feel he was up to something sneaky or seconds away from biting into your leg as hard as he could. Scout sensed you were staring at him as his eyes flicked up to meet yours, his head falling to the side to rest his cheek on your thigh. 

"Babe, ya know I'm crazy for you, don't ya? I'd do anything for you, so why'd ya try and run away like that?"

His puppy eyes were almost strong enough to make you regret what you'd done, but you knew the cruel man behind that baby's face too well to be fooled. He wanted to get a reaction out of you, but you forced yourself to remain as rigid as possible. Finally, he gave you a sweet, crooked smile as he continued, "I could spend all night like this. I just wanna hold ya, but since ya wanna get me heated so bad, I oughtta return the favor."

It was like he was trying to get you to fold, to offer to hold him like this for the night and save yourself from the humiliation of whatever perversions he had on his mind, but you had a feeling agreeing to cuddle would only lead to the same outcome. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. When you didn't respond, he turned his attention to your shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling them past your ankles as you shifted awkwardly to help him. Now you were almost entirely bare before him, with just one last scrap of fabric left to protect your modesty. Not like that mattered to him; without waiting another moment, he dove his head straight between your legs.

"H-hey! Easy now-"

"Relax, relax, I'm not gonna hurt ya, baby, just givin' ya another reason to stick around." He didn't even bother fully dressing you down, merely pushing the fabric to the side with his skinny fingers as he finally tasted you. His tongue ran over the sensitive area, not deep enough to enter you, but enough to make your eyes flutter shut, your head rolled back a bit, and a moan, halfway between despair and arousal, filled the room as he continued to drink in all you had to offer. Even muted between your thighs, you could hear him moaning too and didn't doubt he was either dry-humping the mattress or using his free hand to palm himself while still between your legs. He liked to start out slow like this, to try and savor the "first taste," but you knew he wouldn't last too long like this. Especially not after he was already pissed.

His fingers moved from between your legs to using both hands to grip the waistband of your underwear, harshly pulling suddenly, quickly snapping the elastic, and doing the same to the other side just as quickly, Scout managed to easily remove the rest of the fabric, giving him full access to your body. He was done with trying to go slow and gentle, using both hands on the inside of your thighs to push them further apart, causing your pussy to spread wide open for him. You squirmed a little in sudden discomfort; feeling his hot breath fanning directly over your exposed sex felt pleasurable but not enough to make you forget your guilt. "Scout, cmon- can't we just-"

"Nope." He wasn't about to turn back now, not after he finally had you exactly where he wanted you. Especially not seeing you already beginning to "soften up" under his touch. You hated how turned on you felt watching him act so rough and demanding over your body. He was an annoying, self-absorbed brute, and you hated the way your body continued to heat up as he kept you pinned down and wide open. 

He took another long lick, his tongue flicking over your clit, the feeling causing you to tense up instantly. You tried hard not to give into him here, to keep your hips from bucking against his mouth, but Scout knew you better than you wanted to admit. He used his fingers to massage your thighs before retreating his right hand to join his mouth at the entrance to your core. The feeling of his eyes against yours was enough to keep your eyes scrunched shut, not daring to actually look down and risk catching the sight of him watching your face intensely as Scout lapped against your pussy. He suckled away greedily, wanting to feel as much as he could of you with his mouth, using his nose to bump against your clit as he used his tongue to press a little deeper inside you. 

Scout pulled one of your thighs over his shoulder, forcing you to bend your knee and bring him closer to your wet opening. The longer this went on, the harder it was to keep still, and once you gave up on that, it wasn't long before you gave up on keeping quiet as well. And you gasped out loud when you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance. Scout moved so his mouth could kiss and suck away directly on your clit while his fingers began to work against your pussy. Thankfully you were more than wet enough to help his fingers get a feel for the sensitive tissue, which began to stretch to accommodate as he pressed them deeper inside you. The pleasure was building fast, and you felt your head lull back, breathing ragged, your body throbbing and wet around his mouth and fingers. Like always, he moved quickly and adeptly with his fingers, curling them and helping you open up more as they became coated in your slick. By now, you were becoming blinded by pleasure, your thighs squeezing against Scout's head, wanting him to make you come; the moment you felt his fingers curl upward inside you, all initial self-restraint was forgotten. 

You could practically feel your end coming closer and closer as you rolled your hips against his face. You were aware of Scout's moans and sounds of pleasure reverberating between your legs, but the two of you were practically seeing as one here, knowing you were just seconds away from climax. Sweat clung to your back, soaking the sheets under you, your body felt too hot, and you were practically begging Scout to "go harder, please- as hard as you can!" The spots where he held you down in his tight grip were beginning to ache and feel sore, but you were too close to care; your back arched off the bed while you finally felt your orgasm beginning to dawn. Scout could practically feel it too, your body so erotic, moving against his touch like an angel, this one moment of intimacy feeling hotter than anything the two of you had shared before now. Scout could feel how swollen your clit had become since he started, and he focused on using his tongue to wrap and twist against the sensitive bundle of nerves until he felt your thighs tense up, gripping him even tighter as you came. Scout didn't stop sucking away at your sex as you ground mindlessly against his face, riding out the climax.

The fatigue following orgasm hit you all at once; all the tension you felt in your joints and muscles gradually began to melt away as your heartbeat slowed. Thought the head fog of pleasure lingered as you felt your ragged breathing begin to regulate itself again. Even as Scout continued to lap up as much of your fluids between your legs as he could manage, inciting the occasional throb of after-pleasure. While your relationship with Scout was far from what you ever wanted, a part of you was thankful he was here to hold you during your comedown. To have a warm body wrapped around you to satisfy that primal part of your brain that longed for companionship, no matter who it came from, to be there for you after the pleasure ended. You kept your eyes shut, knowing if you were to open them, you'd be brought back to reality all too quickly. It would end the light, almost floaty feeling in your chest as you felt Scout gradually draw his head out from between your legs. He placed one last kiss over your right hipbone before laying his head down to rest his head on your lower belly, both arms wrapping around your torso to pull himself closer to you, unintentionally smearing the mess on his lips against your naked skin.

"You're my baby; you'll always be my baby. No matter how far you make me chase you- I'll never give up." Usually, after he made you come, he was so loud, so proud of himself, but he sounded completely different now. Scout sounded almost shy, so hushed but at the same time sincere. One of the few times he ever seemed to actually try and choose his words carefully before speaking. Almost like he was begging you.

"Scout-" But you were cut off.

"I know you still want to try and escape, but I'll never let you get away with it. I don't want to hurt ya; just- I mean, I'll do anything to protect ya from other guys, but if it means I gotta keep ya all locked up or knock some sense into ya when you're acting crazy. I'll do anything."

Despite yourself, you forced your eyes open slowly, trying to focus your fuzzy vision on the boy lying over you; it was a pitiful sight. Scout was violent, dangerous, and you hated him, but you couldn't help but feel pity for him. You didn't want to be here or be a part of this, but you couldn't help but wonder if Scout felt just as much a victim of his obsession as you were.

Scout didn't look up at you with puppy eyes or ask anything of you. Likely, he wouldn't want your pity, and you didn't want to divulge that sentiment anyhow, but still, with a moment of hesitation, your hands lightly rested on the top of his head. Using your fingers to stroke gently over his hair while you stared blankly up at the ceiling, praying sleep would find the two of you quickly.

[tfp-stubborn-spark-au]

Chapter 8: punishing

Starscream has an epiphany, and sets his mind on something.

He trudged through the dark and steely quarters of the nemesis, ignoring the stationary vehicons as his pedes slowly dragged him towards his masters' quarters.

His processor took him back to lacon's warfaring district, where him and his trine were given a sensitive objective.

His...trine...?

Something felt off, a sense of longing mixed with deja-vu... he could feel it in his spark that something, something, had to be wrong.

He began to overwhelm himself again, as he often did when he got into his own processor. Against his better judgement, he took himself back to lacon.

This time, he was tasked with tracking autobot movements; a reconnaissance operation, and it was never supposed to erupt into a full-scale conflict...

The keywords are "never supposed."

Skywarp, in all their ingenuity, forgot to block out their signal. It took mere moments for them to be found.

And before he could get a handle on the situation, it was all over... the autobot scouts lie deactivated among the asphalt and rubble, but not before calling in a report of decepticon activity in lacon... which just lessened their chances of ever re gaining access to the councils' jewel.

All this led him to this moment, standing outside his masters' door, steeling himself to deliver the news to Megatron.

As he approached the door, it opened on its own.

"Enter."

He slowly waddled in on his tip-pedes as though any small sound would set his master off.

"I trust you bring good news of our latest scouting arrangement." Megatron drew out, not bothering to turn and face his SIC.

Starscream gulped.

"U-uhm... not-not exactly master..." the seeker choked out.

He felt megtrons EM field rise in rage, although the mannerisms gave nothing away, starscream skidded back nonetheless.

"It was going well at first!" He began.

"We'd made it into lacon, and the mission was going smoothly. B-but when we got there, s-" he stopped short, reluctant to pin the Blame on skywarp.

"-omeone must have forgotten to mask their signal!"

"Dearest starscream..." he turned to face the seeker, optics dead tired but now looking to unload all their anger on the seeker currently trapped in their sights.

The seeker yelped and jumped back as Megatron took a step towards him.

Then another.

And another.

He grabbed starscreams helm and jerked it to the side, so that megatrons threats could sail smoothly down starscreams audials and (hopefully) into his processor.

"Do you know... just how difficult it was to get you three in lacon..." he hissed in starscreams ear.

The seekers wings angled down more as megatrons EM field raged at the news.

"I do master! I do, I swear it!" Starscream stammered out.

"It was going well, you see! It was a simple miscalculation! A simple mistake!" He wailed out but was interrupted by a strike to his faceplate that made his audials ring.

"You are many things starscream, nimble yet clumsy, proud yet pathetic..." he trailed off as his field burned even brighter.

He lunged forwards and grabbed starscream by his neck.

"One thing I will not allow you to become, is a burden to my cause... strength gets results and I have no use for weaklings, this isn't a charity for sparklings!" His masters words rumbled through his processor.

A burden... he couldn't be a burden!

"So don't you dare blame your failure onto your subordinates! That is not the decepticon way!"

His optics widened, he remembered this. He knee what he'd say next and he knew that what proceeded it wasn't pretty.

"...you are not qualified to speak of the decepticon way!" The words tore themselves out of his intake before he could even slam a servo over it.

Megatrons optics narrowed and his field began to steady itself.

But that didn't mean the anger wasn't present.

Megatron drew and breath that sounded more akin to a snarl.

"I will not stand for this insolence."

And then the beating began, worse than he'd ever taken in vorns upon vorns.

"You lecture me?!" He landed another heavy hit on starscream's frame, sending him careering on his side.

"You, who's traitorous ambition knows no bounds!" He kicked the seeker hard on his chasis, sending him skidding to the wall with a resounding clang.

"You, who've undermined this cause and my work since the moment I took you in!" He lifted him by his neck, landing a solid hit to starscreams helm, then another.

"You, who back-stabs your glorious leader at every given chance.... but know this, my dear Second..."

His servo transformed into his fusion blaster, Megatron smiled cruelly and pressed it against starscreams chasis.

"Any and all attempts to flee your responsibility to me, will only land you right back in this same position... you can't escape from me, starscream." Megatron cooed as starscream bit back his namesake for as long as he could, but soon failed.

His vocalizer sent out waves of static due to the sheer volume of the screams that ripped themselves out from his spark.

He held the hot canon there as he felt metal plating melt and cables merge into one another.

He held it there for what felt like forever, too long, far too long!

Finally, the decepticon leader relented, dropping starscream's delicate frame as though it were an inconvenience.

His frame clammored to the floor clumsily while the heat seared him up his frame, unrelenting.

Starscream lie on the floor, panting and groaning from pain.

"You ought to thank me for not snuffing your miserable spark Here and now... lacons' defenses will now be doubled!"

He looked up to his master, everything spun and he could only make out the first half of thay sentence.

"Th-thank-"

"You're a decepticon, are you not?! Stand!" Megatron bellowed, startling the seeker twice more.

Starscream obeyed, as he'd always done. Climbing up to shaky, unsteady pedes. How many times had he done this before, again?

"Th-thank you mast...master for- ghhg!" He keeled over as more agony soared through his frame.

"Hmm? I can't quite hear you..." the leader said in a low, threatening tone.

"Thank you for sp-sparing me master... i am... evermore in your debt!" He croaked out as quickly as he could before the burning and throbbing could interfere with his speech.

Megatron smiled, starscream felt his spark drop.

"Good... and as compensation, I want you to take a battalion to lacons west gate... and smash through."

Starscreams eyes widened.

"Wha- but master its.... very heavily guarded... you just said so yourself! It's suicide!"

The leader turned sharply and sped over to starscream, who froze and felt abject terror well up in his spark.

Megatron roughly grabbed one of starscreams wings, earning a wince from the seeker.

"As far as I'm concerned, this disaster is one of your making. If we can't get into lacon your way, we'll do it my way."

The seeker gulped again.

"May I at least visit... the med bay?"

He could really use Knockouts company right now. Anything was better than his current company.

The 'con leader chuckled.

"Soundwave has already assembled the battalion you will be leading... better to lead on the field and leave true leadership to me." He smiled darkly at starscream from over his shoulder.

Starscream opened his intake but was silenced by the ever-present threat of megatron's short fuse, so he took his leave.

"Starscream?"

"Master?"

"...I won't tolerate another failure." His master said, nonchalantly.

He hated the implication behind that tone Megatron seemed to use with him so much, as though snuffing starscreams spark were only an inconvenience, rather than having his entire faction crippled by the loss.

Maybe that's how it truly was.

"...I understand, master."

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

The seeker bolted upright, moss stuck to pieces of his frame that he was far too panicked to notice.

He stayed in that position, scanning his surroundings again, and again, and again.

The air in the room was heavy with tension, and yet supposedly starscream was the only one there...

It terrified him even more.

The darkness of his room seemed to scream at him. It pinned him in place, did some sort of psyop that prevented his frame from cooperating with him. There was no other explanation.

He carefully swung one pede over the berth, then another, before deciding it was safe enough go stand.

It didn't shake the feeling of unease he had.

He knew by the tension in his spark that he was far too alert (anxious, but he'd never say that) to go back into recharge. He grumbled, knowing he hadn't gotten a full recharge since... he couldn't even remember.

He sighed and inched towards his monitor, squinting as the unexpected brightness slammed into his optics.

He scrolled through his preferred (favorite) forum, fightgeekz.net.

He scrolled down the [great fights] tab, looking for anything that may enamor him in his time of need.

After a bit of scrolling, he came across an older fight. Consisting of "sugar ray leonard" and another human known as "Wilfred Benitez."

Soon enough, he found himself thankful that he watched, as this was basically an entire textbook chapter on defense and feints.

He watched as the lightning-fast leonard swung at air again and again. It almost seemed as though Benitez already knew what punch Ray would throw next.

But he didn't just use movement as his defense, although it was his most glamorous, most captivating tool. He also mixes in simple blocks as well.

But what took starscream by surprise was just how much of a system everything was with Wilfred.

"Every little move it makes is an effort to draw out a certain attack..."

Every small movement of his servos, peded, shoulders, even the way his helm would move served to draw out attacks with the sole purpose of countering. It was why he seemed to know what attack his opponent would throw.

It's because he presented the perfect opening for a certain punch with a counter already in mind.

"It seems these... 'counters" cause much more damage than simply landing on a stationary target. Makes sense given that the weight of both is moving into the hit." He recorded to his datapad.

He watched Ray, noting that all of his attacks seemed to start at his pedes. He never did anything without first stepping, his pede-work was so smooth he could sometimes use it instead of a jab to set up more attacks.

He saw the speed of leonard and how much more deadly it seemed compared to the larger fleshlings from his last binge.

"Power punishes, but speed kills..." he recited the adage unconsciously.

The fight was dead even, and as the rounds wore on he saw what Wilfred was doing.

He was letting Ray tire himself out, or letting him "punch himself out"

But he wasn't just sitting there taking damage, even with his back against the ropes he ducked, slipped, blocked and parried almost every punch his quick adversary threw.

And then, it was as though a roadblock was cleared in his processor.

"Defense isn't just weathering the storm..."

In other words, he didn't have to take punishment, not without giving it back on the counter.

And even though leonard would rally to stop Benitez in the 13th round, it still left starscream with much to think about.

Before he could stop himself, he began to watch "El radár" more often, studying his every move.

But he soon realized that he could only learn so much by just watching, he needed to practice.

He assumed his usual posture, taking a southpaw stance.

As embarrassing as it felt, the humans had stressed the importance of practicing in this manner.

Not everyone had a training partner, anyway.

He soon realized how much his struts compromised his balance, especially on uneven surfaces.

After the 5th time tripping and falling on a pivot, he had enough.

He hissed and went towards his supply room, he found and only pulse rifle and tore the lower receiver out of it, exposing the solid block of steel in the assembly.

He measured out the slope from his strut ti his pede-tip, wrote it down, scratched markings on the block, and began cutting.

As soon as the sloped block fell, he sat down to test is it filled in the space properly or not.

Thankfully (and expectedly) it worked, and he bit his glossa while he welded it to the bottom of his pede, then repeated it for his other one.

He stood for a second. He wasn't used to being able to plant his weight on more than 2 points of his pedes. Now, he had an entire surface area to provide stability.

He practiced with simple walking, then small hops, jogging, then running before he decided he was comfortable enough with his equilibrium.

He practiced everything he saw, the constant feinting with the lead hand, the small movements and even envisioned the punch coming at him so he could counter.

Truth be told, he was enjoying himself. Sure, it wasn't the same as the thrill of a real battle, but it was a more controlled environment. One where he didn't have to focus on survival about all else.

One where he could hone himself as much as he needed.

After a few hours that passed in moments, stopped, satisfied with the practice he's put in.

Now he wanted to go practice punching technique.

He hopped side-to-side on his pedes before heading outside, where his bag was.

He wrapped some excess foliage around his servos this time for a bit of cushioning.

He didn't go all-out straight away, not like last Time. He slowed everything down, just so he could get it right.

He found that when he threw a hook, if he aligned his servo with his elbow joint it caused the force to travel more efficiently up his arm, lessening pain he took.

After some more hours, he sped it up slightly, with sugar ray neonard and evander holyfield on his processor.

As he tried the two tactics he realized how much different they were.

Whereas holyfield could use each punch to set up the next, Leonard's combinations were pre-thought just moments before throwing it. Each hit was calculated and carefully measured to take advantage of multiple openings in a rapid sequence.

He didn't exactly have a point of reference for anatomy and the bag was too misshapen to mimic cybertonian anatomy, so he just alternated low punches with high ones.

He stopped again, he took a deep vent as exhaustion began to get to him. He'd been training non stop for almost the entire day and he hadn't even noticed.

"Well... that was..." he said to himself.

"Im... im..." he began.

His vents became normal again, and he destroyed strength rapidly return to his frame, as though he'd just guzzled down a dozen cubes of energon!

Until it expelled itself from his intake.

He fell to his knees as he violently retched out a jet black substance that upon a tad closer inspection (not that he cared to look, he'd rather not hurl again thank you very much!) Seemed to be almost metallic in nature, even polarized in a small form.

He looked down at his servos. Even with the violent motion, he still had plenty of strength left now. It just made no sense.

He took a mental note to test that out, along with a few other things.

Things...things!

His things, on the nemesis!

A vent hitched in his throat at the mention of his old warship.

They might still be there!

He wasn't much interested in his material things. His room was as plain as plain got since whenever he tried to liven it up, he only got chastised.

So he didn't really bother with keepsakes or trophies, except for one thing.

His old datapad; it was all he had of his old life before the war. Before the pain. Before the death.

It had faces he could hardly remember, names he dare not speak aloud out of shame and guilt. But leaving it only disrespected their memory more than his continued existence did.

The only issue, though, was that his old room was on the nemesis, and Megatron was also on the nemesis.

And also all the other decepticons but he wasn't too worried about that right now.

What he was worried about, was getting his data pad back. It was the only thing he was going there for, and it was the only things that held any value to him

He shut his optics and envisioned his old quarters. It was a room he knew better than his own spark.

There one small piece of the floorboards, a small, unnoticeable rusty part that easily gave way when the seeker gave it a tug.

"He thinks he can take everything from me, but he'll never take you away!"

His own voice echoed, a promise made and hopefully the only one he'd be able to keep.

The nemesis wouldn't be too hard to track down, even with soundwaves' tampering it still had a very distinct frequency if you knew what to look for.

It was getting there without attracting attention that would be his problem.

He dug through his processor, using his quarters as a reference point to feel out the ships layout.

As his minds eye went around each corner, he felt himself being refamiliarized.

"That's the med bay... energon storage, t-cog storage, spare parts, Breakdowns quarters...." he went over with himself.

He figured if he crawled through one of the exhaust vents, it'd be his escape. He wasn't going in without an escape plan.

Another issue, he figured, would be avoiding megatrons' lackies.

And that included breakdown and knockout.

"Dumb and dumber..."

He went over a few more details, planning for every little thing that could go wrong. He couldn't risk anything, both sides seemed to think he was either dead or MIA so that gave him an advantage.

"Yes.... okay...." he tapped his chin.

But soon, a pit of anxiety opened. It'd only be a matter of time until they ransacked his room, if they hadn't already.

He'd be lucky if they didn't find it then.

He shook his helm.

"Slag it all, I have to do something! I'm running out of time!" He scolded himself.

He changed into his alt mode after stepping outside, beginning his search for his old vessel.

But in deep space, an old escape pod ventures towards earth, the autobot it housed still In stasis.

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

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

3 and 8 for writing prompts. Eddie and the Catholic Reader for your series please!

note: this is an au within an au! meaning, this is likely not gonna be part of the main series, and just an au of the series! and, as per usual, reader & all characters are 18+! ❤️

—————-

The dreaded day had come, when The Hideout’s star groupie set her sights on Eddie.

Her name had been Teresa, but everyone called her Tipsy. y/n didn’t know why, exactly, but she could venture a guess. She was undeniably beautiful, too—pale skin like glass, gorgeous red hair, green eyes, a body that would fare well in a world full of rockstars, long legs, prominent cheekbones. y/n had heard about Tipsy from other bands that played The Hideout, the ones Eddie had been friends with. She hadn’t shown her face at a Corroded Coffin show before that night, and y/n wondered if it was because she deemed the members not to her tastes. But Eddie, now twenty-two and working on making it big with his band, would be ripe for her pickings. He had it all—good looks, tongue & nipple piercings, tattoos, long hair, a frontman persona, a sexy voice.

A talent scout was allegedly coming tonight to watch them play, and y/n was hoping for smooth sailing, a night to watch her fiancé play his heart out with his band and celebrate after. But what she was met with was the sight of Tipsy, standing at the front of the stage in y/n’s usual spot, having a chat with Jeff. Good, y/n thought. Jeff is single, and he has nothing to tie him down. Eddie, on the other hand, was very taken, and rage bubbled up inside of her at the very notion of the woman trying to flirt with him. She hated to say that she was feeling jealous, but that was exactly what she was beginning to feel.

Tipsy then set her sights on Gareth, who immediately shot down her advances. Next was the other friend, who seemed as into it as Jeff had, and then there was Eddie. He was still sound-checking his guitar and mic, getting everything ready so that the performance tonight would go off without a hitch. He wasn’t even paying attention to Tipsy, or anyone else; he was lost in his own world, in the prospect that tonight could change his life forever. His tongue was poking out as he dialed up his amp, then back down, trying to find the perfect volume. y/n sat at the bar and watched the interaction closely, and she could feel white-hot anger rising as she saw how Tipsy was looking at Eddie. She circled him as a shark did with prey, the lusty, hungry look on her face nearly sending y/n off that stool.

“Hello there, handsome,” she said to Eddie, biting her red-stained lower lip. “Looking good with that guitar.”

“Huh?” Eddie asked, turning to see who was speaking to him. “Oh, uh…thanks, I guess?”

“Looks like you know your way around an instrument,” Tipsy said, running her fingertips, which were topped with red Lee press-ons, over the neck of his guitar. “I’ll bet you know your way around a lot more, too, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” he said with a shrug, smiling softly at her. “Who are you, again?”

“Teresa,” she said, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Everyone calls me Tipsy, though; truthfully, I prefer the nickname, so don’t be afraid to call me that. Or anything else you want; I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“Would you play the part of the girl who backed off?” Eddie asked. “I’m engaged—“

“Is she here?” Tipsy interrupted. “I don’t see any girls around here. She wouldn’t have to know.”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice girl,” Eddie said, and he froze when her fingers ran through his hair. “But she’s the love of my life. I would never flirt with, kiss, or fuck any other woman. Ever. Whether she was around or not.”

“Oh, come on,” Tipsy said. “Just one time. I’ve been told I give amazing blowjobs.”

“Congratulations,” Eddie said, turning his attention back to his guitar. y/n was watching the entire interaction from afar, full of pure, unbridled rage. “I’m sure my friend Jeff or my other friend would definitely be interested in that. They’re single; me, and also my drummer, are not. We each have a fiancé, so you’re going to have to excuse us for not wanting to fuck you.”

Tipsy’s fingers ran over Eddie’s chest, before caressing over his biceps. That’s all it took for y/n, who sprang into action immediately. She sat down the Coke she was drinking, and made her way to the stage. She ran up there, before grabbing Eddie’s arm and swinging him around to face her. His expression went from uncomfortable to joyous, and she smashed their lips together in a hard, passionate kiss. She mewled against his lips, her hands tangling in his hair as her tongue delved into his mouth. He groaned pleasurably, before drawing away with reluctance. He expected Tipsy to be gone, but she still stood there, watching it all with a raised brow and a look on her face that Eddie couldn’t identify.

“Who’s your new friend?” y/n asked, not even bothering to hide the venom in her tone. “Looks like she got lost on the way to the Motley Crue concert.”

“Oh, this is, uh….Tipsy, right?” Eddie asked. “Her real name is Teresa, but she likes being called Tipsy instead.”

“And who are you?” Tipsy asked, eyeing y/n up & down in jealousy. “He just told me he had a fiance.”

y/n laughed, holding up her left hand to show off her ring. “I AM the fiance, dumbass. Did he also tell you we have a baby on the way? I’m almost five months pregnant, so…”

Tipsy looked between she & Eddie, before biting the inside of her cheek. “Didn’t think that cheap was his look.”

“Hm, must be why he didn’t go for you, then,” y/n said smugly, her expression telling Tipsy that she was ready for a fight.

“I just know his dick is big,” Tipsy provoked, looking at Eddie as she said it. “Something to really fill a woman up, so fucking well.”

“Oh, it’s massive, actually,” y/n said, moving closer to the other woman. “Too bad you’ll never get to see it.”

“Who says I won’t?” Tipsy asked.

“Alright, enough,” Eddie said, standing between them. “It was lovely meeting you, Tipsy. But you really should go bother someone else now, before my fiancé decides she wants to fight.”

“Bring it on,” y/n said. “He isn’t some fucking toy you can play with, and he also isn’t some fucking piece of meat for you to eat when you feel like it. He’s my fiancé, the father of my baby, and you’re not going to treat him as anything other than a human being. Now, not so kindly, fuck right off.”

With one last distasteful look at y/n, Tipsy walked away. y/n still felt anger, and she looked at Eddie, who was also shaken by the entire ordeal. “Shit, y/n. I’m so sorry—“

“Were you flirting with her?” y/n asked.

“What?!”

“You heard me, Eddie. What was going on over here?”

“I wasn’t flirting with her! You know I would never do that.”

“She’s pretty, though.”

“She’s not pretty at all to me, and she also isn’t you. Stop being so jealous, baby.”

“I’m not jealous.”

Eddie sighed, pulling her to his chest in a hug. “Baby, you’ve got nothing to worry about, okay? Not from her, or any other woman on this planet. You’re the only one I want, and nothing & no one will ever change that.”

“Do you really mean that?” y/n asked.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said, laying a hand on her stomach before kneeling in front of her to kiss it. “You, and this little one growing inside of you, are my entire world. I would never do anything to endanger that. I’m going to marry you, y/n; you know I never wanted that before you, because of my parents and their shitty marriage. But you changed that for me; I would never, in a billion years, cheat on you in any way. Ever.”

“I love you so much, Eddie,” she said. “You always know just what to say to set me at ease.”

“I love you, too,” he said, standing up. “And today, just now, I learned how much you never want to lose me, either. Getting jealous like that—“

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“You were. It’s okay, but you have no reason to be.”

“Eddie, I was mad. Not jealous.”

“Whatever you say. Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Was I ever going to tell you what?”

Eddie smirked, drawing her close and giving her a hard kiss. “That I have a massive dick. I was not aware of this.”

she rolled her eyes, giggling as she did so. “I only said that to throw in her face that I get to have you.”

“So it isn’t big?” Eddie asked, feigning disappointment.

“Well, it’s big enough,” she said.

“Just enough?” Eddie asked with a playful pout.

“Well…” she said, grinning at him. “Maybe we should go backstage so I can see it again. Seems I need my memory refreshed a bit.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Eddie said, his lips finding her neck as his hands caressed her sides. “Let’s go.”

———

mini taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @andvys @boldlyvoid @sunkillerdreamer @emmyshortcake @hbaramas @singledadharrington @munsonsbelova @courtingchaos @strangermarvelss @corrodedcorpsess @happylilthought @persephonevlahos

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

This went way back but Idk if you have ever analyzed on book 2, I know it is not well written and I agree the whole situation was so messy and all over the place that made it so hard to sympathize for Leona's struggles 😞

But I do have 1 question, why did he hurt Ruggie, the one person who has been suporting him all this time (even if it's for his own good)? I have been thinking but the way the story was told was so confusing for me, I'm an EN player. Thanks.

Don't bring that up 🤡 it gives me painful flashbacks/j I don't think I've technically analyzed episode 2, but I have done a rewrite for it (here!). L*ONA 😭 YOU DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT, I'M SO SORRY FOR YOU, KING OTL

Alright, so??? Ruggie's been doing whatever Leona's been telling him to do up until a certain point in the episode: when Yuu and co. reveal that Diasomnia is, in fact, totally safe and can play at full health. Leona’s plan has failed, so he gives up, saying that they’ll never have a shot in the tournament now. This upsets the rest of Savanaclaw (including Ruggie), who helped with Leona’s scheme because getting Diasomnia out of the picture would benefit their own future prospects with athletic scouts.

Ruggie then tells Leona they’ve come so far and done so much, it couldn’t have all been for nothing 🙃 so he and the other Savanaclaw kids decide they’ll drag Leona into the tournament kicking and screaming; they’ll make him play anyway because without Leona, their dorm basically has no chance. I think the intention of the narrative was to paint this as the reason why Leona tried to unalive Ruggie (he touches Ruggie���s arm and it starts to fissure/turn to sand) which… 🤡 I don’t know, that seems like kind of a silly reason to try killing someone over (though I will admit that it was kind of cool when Leona taunted Ruggie about not being able to laugh anymore because of the King's Roar drying up Ruggie's throat)???

I get that Leona is upset about being forced into something he doesn’t want to do (and he’s also dealing with the upset of his plot having been foiled), but man. Killing your right hand hyena??? In broad daylight, with your unique magic, in front of all these witnesses… Not the next look for ya, chief 😬 It felt like a lot of anger was misdirected at Ruggie (and maybe that was the point???), so the extreme reaction in spite of Ruggie’s loyalty to the cause up until that point seemed unwarranted. And why specifically Ruggie when literally all of the rest of Savanaclaw had the same sentiment as him??? Might as well commit all the way and try killing your entire dorm at that point/j

Personally, I think Leona should have lost his shit at Jack, not Ruggie 🤔 We were shown Leona getting angry at Jack and calling him a traitor right before his blow-up scene with Ruggie. Leona raging at Jack is something that was also more well “built up” to, considering that we got the night scene where Leona guilt tripped Jack into not spilling the beans after being confronted about his plans.

Imagine Leona sauntering away from that discussion confident that the little pup has tucked his tail between his legs and lost the courage to defy him, only to realize that NO, Jack actually has the balls to stick it to him and his lack of morals? 😩 And this kind of rebellion from a freshman towards his dorm leader?? Not showing respect and bowing down to the law laid down by the big boss?? By the king? Sounds like the perfect formula for unrelenting rage to me! Bonus points because this could be considered a slightly stronger parallel to how Scar emotionally manipulated Simba in the OG Lion King. Simba believed he killed his father so he runs away, but he ends up returning even though it may bring him great shame and fights his uncle to seize back his kingdom; Leona would be Scar and Jack would be Simba in this instance, with Leona shaming Jack for interfering with what is best for his dorm members’ futures, causing Jack to flee--only to later return to do what is right, even if it means fighting the "king" of Pride Rock (ie Savanaclaw) and having Leona lash out at him in anger.

ABSIYASV8YODAVSYDAVDS THERE I'VE GIVEN MY EPISODE 2 RANT FOR THE NEW YEAR 🤡 Let it be over now...

[azuremliam]

More writing for this and art underneath the readmore! Not very descriptive, but heads up Scarab fries the bird. And then deals with fixing Liam's dislocated arm (blood stained armor) + helps calm Finn down. This leads to Scarab accepting that Liam is his friend.

Scarab could hear Finn and Jake screaming from their hiding place under the thick foliage the moment he stepped through the portal.

And then felt a rush of dread and rage at the sight before him.

Liam was getting crushed into the muddy earth by giant talons, their arm mangled and bloodied, twisted in a way that made his carapace rattle with rage. The Beast tormenting them leaning over, readying up to take a bite.

His grip on his crystal tightened and he immediately took aim at the wretched thing. The plates of his mask separated and he snarled, teeth bared, "Get off of them!"

The "small" bird Beast paid his sudden appearance and outburst no mind- its teethed beak beginning to lift a now quite Liam's arm up. That is until the crystalline powered beam of energy hit its eyes!

The wren squawked and stepped off of Liam in a brief panic, the stench of burnt feathers filling the air to his spiteful delight.

Its attention now completely focused on the new threat toward it's hunt- but Scarab wasn't letting up.

His previous encounter with that gigantic mutated woodpecker taught him to not give these creatures any respite.

As the birds wings flapped to right itself, it was met with another blast of light to its underside, again, and again!

Scarab could hear Liam's brothers shout something to him, but his ire had him deaf to their cries. Instead, storming his way to the squawking, pitiful, smouldering Beast writhing on the ground.

He dug his foot into charred feathers as he climbed atop it, the Beast weakly snapping at him in distress.

He simply narrowed his eyes and glared down at it with complete disdain.

How dare this creature have the absurd audacity to think it could harm him- and to have injured the one he was charged to protect!

The crystal hummed as Scarab began to charge it up to its full potential.

How dare this damned Beast hurt his friend.

'...Wait, what? Friend?'

A close nip at his legs had him shake the thought from his head. That wasn't important , he'd deal with that thought later. For now, this was about enough of this creature's gall he could stand. "Good riddance."

The crystal's charge blasted forward, the force of it making his arm recoil back, the bright ray of light engulfing the Beast's head and it fell back to the floor with a loud thump. Underneath him he felt it twitch a few times... and suddenly still.

'Finally', he growled and kicked off of it, landing closer to where Finn and Jake were huddled around Liam. His anger was quickly replaced with worry as he rushed over to them.

Glancing over the two brothers, he was relieve to see that they were more or less fine. Finn was a mess of tears and boogers. His eyes were red and his leather armor had signs of being tossed about and slightly torn. Jake's shell was scratched up a bit, but other wise nothing a few days of rest couldn't fix for the both of them.

Liam on the other hand...

Scarab grimaced. Their carapace armor had impressive dents on the chest plate and a small cut on their forehead. Despite being crushed under the Beast's foot, their armor and mud appeared to had saved them from further damage thanks to how soft it was. They were simply shoved into the earth and didn't take too much of the brunt of the weight.

But that all paled in comparison to the state of their bloodied right arm. He needed to get to mending them right away.

The only relief he had was the fact they were still breathing, but their face was slightly pale and the cut on their head had him worry if they potentially had a concussion .

"What happened?"

Jake and Finn both started at the same time-

"We were with scouts and- "

"-the caravan we were with had to escape-"

"-Liam distracted it-"

"-and it tired to grab Finn and, and-"

His extra arms formed out of his carapace to grab the two's shoulders. Jake quieted down, but Finn was still breathing hard. He let of Jake, but still held onto Finn as he set about carefully removing Liam's vambrace. "Deep breaths, copy me-"

Finn was thankfully, getting calmer with each round of the breathing exercise. And with Jake now by his side, Scarab was relieved to see the boy begin to fall asleep. He didn't need the young human worrying more about what he had to do to help Liam.

The counting and breathing honestly had helped him recollect his thoughts too.

Now he could get to the literal meat of things.

Scarab set the crystal sap bottle down and rolled up Liam's sleeve, silently thanking Glob they favored that baggy clothing of theirs, and gauged the situation of their arm.

The blood made things look worse than it seemed. Still, there were deep punctures where the Beast had sunk its teeth into their arm, the unfortunate spots not covered by their gear. Besides the bite, it appeared to be dislocated at the shoulder as well. He grumbled, he'd have to set that back into place before he used the sap- otherwise it could fuse itself awkwardly.

'Aaugh,' he hated how his insides turned at the state of Liam unconscious and bleeding. “Jake, while I'm tending to them, calmly now, tell me what exactly happened while I was away.”

Jake leaned a now sleeping Finn onto his side, his antennae swaying, “Well... Um. After you left to go do your report, Li got an urgent package delivery requested to them. So we did what we always did and joined a scout and caravan group to go about our usual pathways-”

He paused and winced as he watched Scarab grab at Liam's wrist and guided it straight out to their side. “Everything...everything was fine at first- the scouts had done their survey work for the past two weeks down this path, so we expected no Beasts to interfere.”

Jake paused again, now confused as Scarab moved their arm in a small slow circular motion, as if he was shaking their hand. “Continue.”

“O-oh right. So we were halfway on our route when one of the Scouts spotted it flying above us. So we all went into cover of the underbrush. But I guess it spotted the Caravan before they could completely reach cover and dived down at us.”

Scarab angled Liam's arm again and repeated the motion. “Me and Liam ran out of cover to distract it so the caravan could make its way back to the hive- and we had left Finn with the three scouts just in case- and we were handling taking turns distracting the big jerk pretty well, but...”

His antennae twitched when he heard Scarab making a clicking noise. “But what?”

“The Scouts figured it was a good idea to come out and try to help too- I mean one did fire off a flare so we'll be getting a Beast Rescue ride to the Hive we were planning to go to soon thankfully, but them doing that made roasty and toasty over their really irritated. It started pecking everything and anything.” Jake rubbed one of his arms. A habit Scarab noticed that Liam also tended to do when nervous.

“And it kinda, well, skewered and ate all three scouts. Then it was about to take a jab at Finn- he was trying to rush to me so I could grab him and we could buzz on outta here. Like how Liam always tells us to in situations like this. But we were too far a part and Liam was closer to him- and, and...”

“Liam got him out of the way and got plucked up instead, didn't they?”

Jake's antennae drooped. “Yeah.”

Had Scarab not gotten used to how Liam usually acted before hand, he would've cursed them out for playing hero. Granted...they had even more reason to, given that their own little brother's life was on the line. Had any of the three died while he was away...

That irritating feeling welled up inside of him again and he clicked in annoyance again.

Carefully, he moved their arm close to their head and rotated their arm once more. Ah, there, it sounded like it was back in place-

“Uugh.” Both of their attention went to Liam when they groaned, but still, they remained unconscious. He paused in his ministrations to look them over again, and sighed. Now it was time to deal with the cuts.

“It shook them by the arm for a while and then threw them at the ground. They're gonna wake up right, Scarab?”

Scarab bit back a growl. That stupid bird... “Yes. Speaking of that, I'm worried about them having a concussion. And their arm, it was dislocated-” He popped open the crystal bottle and let a small amount of sap ooze onto his hand. Just a bit should do wonders for them. “Where were headed, does it have a medical facility suited for humans?”

“Our aunt Abegail lives there. She's a human medical specialist, she'll be able to help.”

“Good.” Scarab massaged the sap into the wounds of their arm, Jake watching mesmerized as the sap cleared away the little remnants of mud and sealed up the cuts. Then, with a bit more care than he intended, caressed the remainder into the cut on their forehead.

Behind him, he heard Jake snicker. Scarab's hand twitched and he pulled away from Liam, choosing to ignore him.

Them moving around in their sleep could undo his work he did with their arm, it needed a sling. He thought of removing their belt, and his eye twitched. No. What else... ah. He hissed quietly and undid his tie. “You're in charge of carrying Finn. Now, where's Liam's pack?”

Jake looked confused at why he was removing his tie while he picked up a now snoring Finn. “Its right under those ferns over there.”

“I'll carry Liam,” This better not become a habit with them, getting injured and him having to pick up the pieces, “and their backpack.” Scarab wrapped the tie around their arm and neck, satisfied at the makeshift sling, and ignored Jakes, 'Oooh that's what you're doing' as he hefted Liam up.

Him carrying Liam like this was beginning to feel like deja vu.

He huffed. His...dare he admit it?

Scarab clicked his tongue again and tapped his foot.

They were, weren't they? He held Liam tighter to him, mindful of their arm.

His first friend and they were such a literal handful.

“We'll wait for the Beast Rescue team by their pack, come on then.”

Jake did his best impression of a smile at him, “Right!”

Them being his friend wasn't going to save them from the earful they were going to get once they properly recovered, however.

[thenewfuture]

I hate that school SO much. :)

Me too...!

But anyway, I think I have the timeline sorted out. Just a few more questions.

Mahiru. When you had your falling out with Natsumi, was this before or after you were scouted by the Academy?

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

I think like....a week or two before...

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

Okay...

And Fuyuhiko. Did you face any sort of jeering before you became the clan leader?

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

Uhh...I dunno, maybe...? I know my face makes it hard for others to take me seriously. And I can't escape this "baby gansta" crap.

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

Okay, thank you. I'm pretty sure I have the full timeline now.

Hope's Peak's focus on talent forced many teenagers to develop a mindset of "having no talent means someone is worthless", and this too affected Natsumi...

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

Mahiru: Seeing her friends develop talents better then her scared her, so she tried to cut ties with them...

Miaya: But she cared a lot about her brother as well, as gave him the go-ahead to become the leader of the clan, just so he would be taken seriously.

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

Still, Natsumi hoped for a talent. And kept trying to become an "Ultimate Little Sister" and was eventually accepted into the Reserve Course for the time being...

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

Miaya: Her constant attempts to push back her past friends further, invoked Sato's anger. Sato loved Mahiru dearly, and though if it meant committing a vile act, she went on anyway because she cared so much. And Mahiru, feeling the same way, became an accomplice...

Miaya: But Fuyuhiko soon learned of it anyway, and in an understandable fit of rage, murdered Sato.

Miaya: And Hajime, wanting to know what happened to those two for the sake of clarity attempted to go into the main course building, but was stopped and assaulted by the security head, Juzo. And his path was set....

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

It's a tragic tale....

And I'm so sorry that happened to all of you...

[ohmytomorrowisthursday]

Until I Fall - Part Ten

Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader.

Eventual romance but this is a slow burn, definitely angsty and darker. It will also focus a lot on Hange, Erwin and the original scouts. Eren and the 104th training corps will be around but I’m focusing on the older characters in here. Your self insert name is ‘Azeria Becker’ pronouns She/Her/Hers. Using a name because don’t like using ‘y/n’.  

Cannon universe. I wrote this for myself but I hope that you enjoy it, too lol <3

cw: imagine literally every awful/gory thing that happens in SNK. Death, violence and gore. Drinking, sex. (bolded ones in this chapter)

I will be releasing 2 chapters at a time every few days. You can find all chapters here.

Things had gone to shit. There were 20 survivors from the entire expedition and Shadis stepped down as Commander. The Scouts had been nearly obliterated in one day, and the remaining few were beaten, bruised and injured. Levi rested his hands on his knees, his head full of a mixture of sadness, anger and exhaustion. So many people had died, and it was all for naught. They couldn’t even draw the maps without being decimated. He was so tired of having to carry peoples remains home to their families. Why couldn’t everyone just survive? 

He looked over at you, sleeping on the bed that he was sitting on the edge of. Your forehead bandaged your body bruised from head to toe. Why did you come after me? He was angry that you’d be so rash. But then again - hadn’t he done the same thing?

“Levi, we need to fallback, there are too many!” Erwin shouted across the field to him. Levi had just slain yet another titan. “Where are the others?” He yelled back to Erwin. “Over in the west at Hange’s post. We will rendezvous back with them closer to the gate!” Levi wasn’t quite certain about that idea. “Captain, I’m going to join them and then head north back to the wall!” He hopped on his horse, ready to find you. “Levi,” Erwin said, “She is safe.” But Levi had let himself be separated from people he cared about before. Unless he saw that you were okay with his own eyes, it didn’t matter. “Erwin,” He replied, “I am going there.” 

He found you just in time; the titan had caught you between his legs and you were screaming. The rest was a flash; before he knew it, the thing was dead, and you were nearly crushed and burned by steam. The only thing that seemed to bring him back down to earth from the adrenaline fuelled rage that ran through his body was your embrace. Your body holding his; your skin so warm and wet with blood and rain, it was so nice to feel you that he didn’t mind that you were dirty. The smell of your hair that brushed against his face, it was so nice; it was you. He hadn’t been so close to someone in so long, it felt so good it almost hurt. 

Looking down at you now, he just wanted you to wake up from your sleep. You were probably exhausted, physically and mentally and the whole ordeal was insurmountable for anyone to handle. You were still just a rookie out in the field, surely this would be hard for you. He knew what it was like to lose people. It sucked. But each time it seemed to numb him more and more. He only really ever felt the pain of the losses months after; when the sadness rolled through him like a storm. He hoped that the world wouldn’t make you like him. You had so much more lightness to you, he never wanted to see it dim. After awhile he lifted himself off of the bed and went to see Hange. 

“Oh, you’re here” They said, seeing Levi step into the doorway. “Don’t sound too excited,” Levi scoffed joined them inside. Hange was sitting at the end of the long table in the meeting room, their hair a mess and papers scattered in front of them. They looked tired, but focused. Everyone’s spirits were down, but Hange still tried to muster the courage to wear a brave face. 

“I thought you were with Erwin,” Levi said. Hange stretched her arms out, “No, he’s gone to the interior with the rest of the section commanders. The MP’s and Chief in command want some answers. Plus, Erwin has to take over for Shadis, and plans need to be made.” 

Levi sat at the table with them and sighed. He was exhausted, “When Erwin becomes commander, what’s the plan for us?” 

“I don’t know,” Hange said resting their hands on their face, “I’m fairly certain that we’ll become captains. I mean, there’s no one else to lead.” 

Silence filled the room. They had lost so many people in just one day. Levi didn’t want to think on it anymore; not the scouts, or the deaths or even Erwin for that matter. The halls were empty and quiet and he hated it.

“What’s all of this, four eyes?” He said, gesturing to the scattered papers; it was the Scout’s data on titans. He scanned the sheets in confusion. Hange blushed and let out a laugh, “Oh, nothing! I just have a little idea about something! I’ll tell you when Erwin gets back!” Levi knew that they were lying. This was definitely not a ‘little’ idea, but he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Hange was thinking. 

“Levi, is Azeria awake yet?” They asked. Levi looked down at the table, “Not yet,” he replied, the tiredness and sadness sinking him further into the seat, “She has a concussion, I’m sure she’ll be sleeping for a little longer. Besides, she’s probably exhausted.”

Hange smiled, “I’ll bet, she took down four titans today. That’s a lot to handle on her second ride out.” He let out a feigned laugh, “Yeah, she probably isn’t in a rush to get back out there.” 

“At least this recent defeat will give us some time off,” They paused, their face turning from optimism to sadness again, “This was a tough loss.”

Levi frowned, “Yeah.”

The room was still, and like most of the Scout HQ, silence filled the room like lingering perfume. How long would it take to have these halls filled with noise? How could they ever replace their comrades? After a while, Levi lifted himself from the table. “I’m going to make some tea,” he adjusted his shirt, “do you want some?”

Hange offered a smile. “No thank you, I appreciate it.”

He wandered into the kitchen to make his tea, rubbing the space between his eyebrows with frustration and lost in thought. Captain Levi? That’s fucking ridiculous. How in the hell did he even get here? Sometimes it felt like life just happened to him. There were choices to be made, sure; but everything always seemed to come barreling at him head on. Did he even have a choice in the matter? He’d need to become a captain. Erwin would need to make that a promise to the MP’s and Chief. He’d need the scouts strongest soldier to lead. How did he always end up in this place? Running some kind of play seemed to come naturally to him. But even through all of the success he had; sometimes he wondered what it would be like to just be normal. Nothing in his life had ever been normal; who the fuck throws themselves at titans for a living? But he couldn’t quit. He’d never leave. Because in spite of the envy he had for those who never had to worry; he had finally found a place in the world that he would be useful in. All of those ugly years of living in the dank basements of the elite had led him here. And even if his life was still full of the horrors of this world, deep down he believe that maybe there was something beautiful waiting for him on the horizon. Maybe he could take all of this filth and make it something nice for others. Besides, in life we’re all given what we can handle. 

The kettle boiled and he poured the hot water into his cup, watching the dried leaves unfold and turn the water dark. He looked and it and frowned. Tsk. Idiot he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he grabbed an extra cup. He made the same tea in the new cup. Why was he doing this? He was so annoyed at himself. I don’t have time for this, he thought. Still, he carried the cups back to your dorm where you were sleeping. He placed your tea on the floor next to your bed and pulled up a chair to sit. Why was he back? He had so many things to do, why did he keep coming in to check on you? Maybe that was it. Maybe he just wanted to not think about the rest of the world for a minute. About the dying and injured soldiers he should be visiting. About the inventory scouts who would want a full list of items lost. He didn’t want to think about the veterinarians who would be furious and handing him bills in the absence of Erwin, or all of the broken hearted parents demanding answers from the scouts. In here, in your empty dorm room with you soundly sleeping, he could close the door and shut out the world for just a few more minutes. He just wanted a few more minutes of peace. He wanted a few more minutes with you. 

“Mmpff,” You groaned, rolling on to your side, face in a wince. “Ow,” you let out flatly. He was relieved to finally see you awake. 

“Rise and shine, princess,” He remarked sarcastically. You were trying to stretch but your bruises seemed to hurt you when you moved. He watched as you lifted your arms and stretched out your toes, causing your shirt to lift a little. In your cotton under shirt and pants, he could see all of the curves of your body; the shape of your hips and the lines on your abs. He tried not to look at you; his heart fluttered and his cheeks were hot. You’re fucking gorgeous, he thought, but just as soon as the thought came into his head, he pushed it down. He didn’t have time for this. He shouldn’t feel this way. 

Your eyes finally opened and stared out to the window. He knew that look; the bewildered and lost face on every soldier whose been through hell and manages to survive. The recollection of what happened after adrenaline finally wears off and you come-to, trying to comprehend what is real. You took deep hard breaths. Panic was common, too. Your searching face finally calmed and you rubbed your eyes and groaned, “I feel like shit.” Levi smiled, “You look like shit.” 

“What happened?”

“We got back. The good news is that Erwins Signal guns work, bad news is that we’re almost the only people that survived. Shadis stepped down as commander and now Erwin is heading to the capital explaining how shit hit the fan so fast. Most of the survivors are injured at the infirmary. All Scouts are on hold from duty until Erwin gets back. Congrats, brat, you’re on involuntary vacation now,” Levi sipped his tea. Your eyes widened as he told you.

“Twenty? That means-“

“-yeah” he cut you off. Just don’t say it, Azeria.

“Oh,” you frowned. The air filled again with that same stale silence. Your tear filled eyes were full of shock. Please don’t become like me, Levi thought. He looked at you and your broken heart. Long ago he used to feel that way when these things happened. Now it was like a dull bruise. Always lingering. Your pain was like a cut, it was fresh and bloody but maybe it would get better one day. He hated the thought of you becoming calloused like Erwin, like Hange, like himself. He hated telling you. He hated being the one to deliver the news. 

“Here,” he said, handing you the cup of tea, “drink this. It will make you feel better.” You blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes. “Thank you,” you said reaching for the cup. Your voice was small. The two of you sat there for a few minutes as you both drank your tea in silence. Slowly, you calmed down a bit, which made Levi feel a lot better. 

“Why is my head bandaged,” you finally asked, running your hand along the cloth. “When I killed that titan that grabbed you, you took quite the fall and hit your head pretty hard. Medics think its a concussion. It’ll go away but you’re probably going to be a little sore and slow for a while. No more recklessly risking your life for the next few weeks,” Levi could see that you were embarrassed from the whole ordeal. Your face turned pink and suddenly your eyes were full of tears again.

“I’m sorry for being stupid,” You said, voice cracking, “I should have just obeyed commands. I was just worried.” Azeria please don’t talk like that. Don’t worry about me, Levi thought.

“Hey brat, enough with the apologies. You just did what you thought was right. No need to feel bad about it,” Levi was trying to get you to calm down. You wiped your eyes, “Okay. Thank you,” you paused and let out a sad sigh, “I can’t believe they’re all gone.”

He frowned, letting his eyes slip into the sadness with you, “I know. They were good people,” there was a silenced that filled the air. You reached out and grabbed his hand with yours, tears falling down your face, “It’s not fair,” you huffed. You looked so small in that moment. He just wanted to hold you again. Instead, he squeezed your hand back, “We wont let them die in vain,” He said. You nodded. The tears fell out of you still, the pain was a fresh wound. You tucked your knees into your chest and hid your face. All Levi could see was your back moving with each breath, watching you try to calm yourself from the pain. All he could seem to do was hold your hand through it. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry so much,” You sniffled, your face red and wet with tears, “It just wont stop.” He rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb he had no idea what to say, he wasn’t good at this. “Its okay. It’s not easy. It never is.” Slowly your eyes finally dried and you let out a sigh of relief. 

You still looked sad, and Levi wasn’t happy about it, “Hey, did you know that you killed four titans? What do you think you’re doing, trying to make me look bad like that. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

That made you smile, which made him smile, too. He nudged your arm, “Annoying brat.”

“Someone’s gotta humble you,” You said with a smirk. Your eyes both locked in that happy melancholic gaze, your nose and cheeks still red from sadness. What else can you do when things go to shit? He didn’t what to deal with the rest of it, he just wanted to shoot the shit with you. 

You turned your body and sat on the edge of the bed, moving carefully to not shock your sore joints. “So, what happens now?” You asked. Levi sighed. He didn’t really know. 

“Erwin will become commander and we will have to restructure once we get back on our feet. For now; I guess we wait.”

Chapter Eleven

[keevansixx]

I've seen monsters all my life, par for the course for my clan, and way of life. we learn at early age from the elders through stories and examples of what is dangerous, what is deadly, and what is mildly annoying. the massive creature before the party stood firmy within the very "deadly" category of elder lore. something of nightmares told to young children as moral lessons on good behavior, or simply out of spite to frighten the young.

I see the ranger laying in a heap to one side of the battlefield. this fills me with rage, and anger thinking of the worst possible outcome. I focus my gaze on his still form for the slightest of pauses, and note the slight rise and fall of labored breathing. Good. still with us.

when i was around 10 cycles of the great wheel old, my father took me up into the mountains to long forbidden places as a test of skill and manhood. there we faced hardship after hardship, all the while, my father teaching me the old stories and how to defeat monsters in the most efficient manner. Old places, where the curses of ancient humanity still lingered after milllenia, and the abhorrent roamed unchecked and wild. these were the playgrounds of my youth, and lessons most harshly earned.

the wizard is shouting profanities in my general direction again, some plea to unseen gods to spare them from the stupidity of barbarians and their ilk. I've learned to oft ignore the petty mewlings of magic weilders too weak to adequately defend themselves from lesser creatures. why should i harken unto someone who let themselves become gravely injured at the weakest encounter of a goblin scouting party. I focus my thoughts to tune out the wizard.

I recognize this particular branch of evil. I've encountered something like it before in my youth. the fetid stench of sulfur mixed with rusty iron. A fabrication, something unnatural and manufactured. the slight flinching movements of it's limbs, i know this...

the healer is trying to get to the ranger. i hold her back, blocking egress to the left because i've seen the reach of this monstrosity and know that she'd be in deadly range of the creature if allowed to continue. the paladin is standing in the circle of combat there within the radius of the monster's reach, the paladin's shield taking the brunt of blows, but there is now a stalemate. he can't attack, cannot progress forward to victory, spending all his effort defending from the enemie's attacks.

my memories flash back to my 16th cycle, when my hunting party was ambushed by a few golems way up in the highlands. creatures of the old world. tough as stone, impervious to most attacks outside of great mace or blunt hammer attacks. They all behaved the same, turning their bodies to face foreward towards their targets. flanking was difficult, but not impossible. I saw my openning and lept past the golems while the rest of the hunting party held their attention. It was then i noticed the glowing sigil and shimmering stone imbedded in their backs, and attacking the new found targets, I was able to defeat those hulking monsters of the past. It was then that i learned from the elders the sins of humanity and all that they had wrought. I gained in knowledge that day, and was sad in the learning thereof.

I feint towards the right, trying to draw it's attention away from the paladin and healer allowing her to make her way left towards the fallen ranger to render assistance. I need to draw it away from that area, it's the most practical course of action to allow for the most successful outcome. No one dies today! I won't allow it.

another old memory surfaces. in my 19th cycle i was taken to a hidden grotto by the elders upon completing the trials of ascention to become a hunter and protector of the clan. The grotto was an old library, full of the spoils and trophies of battles long since won. Knowledge gleaned from a thousand generations of hunters, tribesmen, and tribeswomen. the weaknesses of a thousand foes. the most efficient means to defeat monsters. what was valuable when harvesting a kill. Identifying the signs and behaviors of enemies. lifetimes of knowledge to glean and grow.

the monster has all but ignored the paladin, by my design. this is a good thing. the paladin needs the break to regroup and hopefully mindful enough to protect the healer, and i can't find out what i need to know with him in the way. I pick up a heavy chained censer where it fell from the ceiling onto the combat floor and begin to swing the long length around my head. If all goes according to design, i should find out what i need to know in the next few moments. if not, well....today is not a bad day to die after all. at least i'll be taking out a great evil with me when i go. My clan can honorably celebrate my funeral in a spectacular fashion, and my legacy will be preserved in the grotto for future generations to learn and draw inspiration from. i am content.

the enemy lunges at me in a mindless rage. at the farthest apex of my swing of the heavy censer, i let out a mighty battlecry like my ancestors of old did, and pour a burst of strength into the return swing which wraps thick chain swiftly around the monster twice before the heavy head of the censer impacts heavily into the back of the massive creature. i hear a sickly thud and slight metallic clang of false bones, but no tell-tale crack or tinkle of broken vials, shattered crystals, or mangled machinery. the monster bellows rage before tripping on what remained of the heavy chain that i whipped in the counter direction as a distraction. Damn! not good, not what i needed to hear. when the monster fell i was able to briefly see it's back. where there should have been a ring of glowing sigils, maybe a stone or two, or some sort of contraptive mechanry embedded within, there was a sickly concaved crater oozing where once it's control would have rested. What devilry is this? the signs all pointed to a golem, or flesh construction of the old world, but this? this should not be possible. with no control mechanism, this golem should not be able to function, much less move about independently like it has been since the fight started. think! I'm sure the elders spoke to me about this decades ago....i just need to remember.

the wizard finally finished their mumblings and finger waving, don't know what they were trying to accomplish, but to me, it's always too little, too late. some sort of barrier forms over the flesh golem, but i know it won't last long. unnatural things tend to have resistances to magics and the wizards attempts will be for naught if we can't find a way to kill it permanently.

the ranger comes to with the help of the healer, he got smashed up pretty badly so it's going to be awhile before they are hale and whole again. wordlessly the ranger points to a little alcove indention off to the right of where the golem began attacking. I think that's where the ranger was standing when they got sideswiped by the golem. there must be something there we havn't seen before.

the paladin is conferring with the wizard about what the party should do next, with one eye on the bound golem struggling on the floor against the heavy chain and the wizard's barrier. it's lifeless eyes scanning everything trying to find a way free, stretching the bonds as far as it was able to. i can hear the straining creak of the wrapped chain, and the sound of resistance tensioned against a magical barrier. the slight electrical crackle of tremendous force against immovable object. I also hear under baited breath what they think of me when they think i'm out of earshot and cannot hear them. we're not out of danger, yet, why is the rest of the party acting like we won? this is just the warm-up for round two. i feel it in my bones, like that tingle at the nape of the neck when you know someone is watching you from hidden places. for so called intelligent and enlightened humans that come from what they call civilization, their situational awareness leaves much to be desired, i know of 6 cycles old children back in the creech that are more aware of their surounding environment than these people. I'm constantly amazed that they've managed to survive this long on the earth with what little they know of monsters and basic survival knowledge. the ranger gets a pass in my ledger, at least they have some semblance of situational awareness (when not pummeled to an almost bloody pulp), and know how to basic survive in the wilds...it's their general monster knowledge i tend to question, but other than that, they're alright and would pass a basic muster back home.

the healer is helping the ranger across the floor towards the entrance and to relative saftey, i can tell from the bruising around the neck and upper chest area that the ranger still has a few broken ribs, a collarbone even with the healers touch, and can't really talk at the moment. he keeps trying to elder forest hand sign a danger at the wizard and paladin, but they are too busy coming up with a plan to notice. the ranger has those pleading eyes, and keeps siging danger while trying to point at the plinth in the tiny alcove. i notice a misshapened lump proped up in the shadow upon the plinth, sometimes, i hate that i'm right and didn't catch it early enough to swiftly act.

there is a sudden explosion. bits of shattered chain and the force of a broken magical barrier knocking everyone off their feet. the monster screams it's rage into the sky. the wizard was protected by the paladins shield and begins to chant another barrier again as the paladin recovers enough to stand between the rest of the party and the foul monster. i know what i have to do. it's in my blood.

the helm is stifling. it narrows my vision so i am forced to focus only on what is in front of me, to the exclusion of most distractions. in battle against monsters it's a boon that helps me hone my concentration only on the target i need to eliminate. I take off the helm to the cries of dismay from the rest of the party. I need to see the bigger picture, and to do that, i need to breathe. the target is small. the wizard calling me a stupid barbarian, the paladin calling me crazy, the horrified look of the healer thinking i've lost my simple mind. the ranger staring blankly with that look of knowing, and then the frown. I nod. to those who know, it's a sign and affirmation of intent. to those who don't know, it just looks like another barbarian about to do something completley reckless that to them seems stupid or foolish. it's all calculated and planned based on a life of combat, honor, and skill.

I reach behind me to withdraw a small piece of home. an heirloom handed down from father to son and so forth down my lineage for generations. the folded bone axe is ancient. chiped and shaped from the pelvic bones of a young dragon, it's blade edges lined with sharpened mithril, each blade tip capped with the diamond hard venom teeth of a wyvern. each half nestled cleanly against the other until one twisted the haft handle allowing the blades to spread open into it's final scalloped batwing glory. a child's toy that was meant to teach one how to hunt around crowded trees to hit game hiding behind them. the fluted hollows of the blades acting like an airfoil to sharply curve the thrown blade around an object to strike a target beyond.

a reminder of home, a makeshift altar to my gods, and of a promise unkempt. i kiss the haft, shout my fury to the heavens, and throw it at the monster bellowing before me.

it's a beautiful sight, watching that toy fly, always brings me a sense of joy watching it arc knowing i will hit what i aim for. i've had lot's of practice in my youth to the point of almost absolute control. the right flick of the wrist, the proper release, the slight adjustments from my fingers as the haft leaves my hand to allow for optimal flight... after all, the target is small.

I spread my arms wide in the face of mindless fury ready to die, as i stare deep into the monsterous golem's lifeless eyes, and shout my final defiance into it's form willing it to cease to exist.

*whoosh.... ka-thunk* (cracke/tinkle)*

*massive thud*

____________________________________

several months later at a pub.

Ranger: "hey, remember that temple we were sent to retrieve that tome for the wizards council?"

Barbarian: "Yes, i recall the deed, i also recall you getting nearly mauled to death by a foul creation."

Ranger: "i've always been curious to know, did you always know how to defeat it? I mean, that's something your people prepare for? right? i still can't get my head around the paladin's notion that you beat it with a crude toy! i'd have never believed it if i didn't partially see it for myself through a fog of pain. still think i was dreaming the whole thing."

Barbarian: "Best not dwell long on what your people call the imposible my young friend, better to let the rest of the party, especially the wizard, think i got crazy lucky. I don't think his heart could stand a notion of a primitive society more knowledgeable in the workings of the natural and unnatural world than his own lofty orders. best to let sleeping dragons lay, and ignore the workings of barbarians....after all, i gots a simple reputation to maintain."

As a Barbarian, you hate that just because you have a different lifestyle, your party looks down on you and assumes you are incapable of basic intelligent thought. Today you had enough.

[lovebunnie]

scout rounded to face spy, an accusatory finger pointed. “look spy, i know im not the son you wanted to have and im sorry i never lived up to any big ideas you had for me, but youre not exactly the guy i wanted my father to be. life is full of disappointment and im yours just as much as youre mine!”

spy delicately took his cigarette out of his mouth, eyes never leaving scout. he noted that he had that same angry look in his eyes that his mother got: one that burned and sizzled. “this was a long time ago. you throwing a tantrum like this changes nothing of the past.”

“long time ago for you maybe, but this has been my whole freakin’ life spy. every day i was forced to think about you. i didnt ask to be here, ya know. i didnt ask to be so awful that you left my ma all by herself.” scout’s fists clenched. “we were scraping by before i came around and i damn well didnt add anything besides more to the freakin’ grocery bill.” he looked up. “what did i do to make you leave, huh? spit on your tie or some shit? did i piss you off while i was in freakin’ diapers so much that you would have rather left me than be around me another second? leave my ma all heartbroken?”

something in spy softened. “scout, it had nothing to do with you-”

“give me a fucking break, thats bullshit and you know it,” scout sneered. “tell me spy, would you have left my ma like that if i had never been born? if i werent never around, would you have left her like ya did?”

the silence between the two grew, and spy dropped his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it to avoid looking at scout. “what i would or would not have done does not matter anymore. it happened and we must move on.”

scout felt a few tears drip down his cheeks, full of rage and agony. “yea, you do that spy, you move on and forget, like you do best.”

when spy looked up, he saw scouts face pinched and before he could say another word, scout turned on his heel and stomped away while angrily wiping his eyes.

spy stood for a moment, reflecting on the fact that while scout had his mother’s anger, he had his sadness; they shared bitter tears and an ugly blotchy face from heaving sobs.

he watched scout leave, and he did not follow.

[notmuchtoconceal]

He ended frowning, and his look denounced Desperate revenge and battle dangerous To less than gods. On th' other side up rose Belial, in act more graceful and humane; A fairer person lost not heav'n; he seemed For dignity composed and high exploit: But all was false and hollow, though his tongue Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest counsels: for his thoughts were low; To vice industrious, but to noble deeds Timorous and slothful: yet he pleased the ear, And with persuasive accent thus began.

"I should be much for open war, O Peers, As not behind in hate; if what was urged Main reason to persuade immediate war, Did not dissuade me most; and seem to cast Ominous conjecture on the whole success: When he who most excels in fact of arms, In what he counsels and in what excels Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair And utter dissolution, as the scope Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. First, what revenge? The tow'rs of heav'n are filled With armed watch, that render all access Impregnable, oft on the bordering deep Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing Scout far and wide into the realm of Night, By force, and at our heels all hell should rise With blackest insurrection, to confound Heav'n's purest light, yet our great enemy All incorruptible would on his throne Sit unpolluted, and th' ethereal mold Incapable of stain would soon expel Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope Is flat despair: we must exasperate Th' almighty victor to spend all his rage,

And that must end us, that must be our cure, To be no more; sad cure; for who would lose, Through full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry foe Can give it, or will ever? How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure. Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, Belike through impotence, or unaware, To give his enemies their wish, and end Them in his anger, whom his anger saves To punish endless? 'Wherefore cease we then?' Say they who counsel war, 'We are decreed, Reserved and destined to eternal woe; Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, What can we suffer worse?' Is then worst, Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? What when we fled amain, pursued and strook With Heav'n's afflicting thunder, and besought The deep to shelter us? This hell then seemed A refuge from those wounds: or when we lay Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse. What if the breath that kindled those grim fires Awakened should blow them into seven fold rage And plunge us in the flames? Or from above Should intermittent vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us? What if all Her stones were opened, and this firmament Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall one day upon our heads; while we perhaps Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurled each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapped in chains; There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse. War therefore, open or concealed, alike My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile With him, or who deceives his mind, whose eye Views all things at one view? He from heav'n's highth All these our motions vain, sees and derides, Not more almighty to resist our might Then wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heav'n Thus trampled, thus expelled to suffer here Chains and these torments? better these than worse By my advice; since fat inevitable Subdues us, and omnipotent decree; The victor's will. To suffer, as to do, Our strength is equal, not the law unjust That so ordains: this was at first resolved, If we were wise, against so great a foe? Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink and fear what yet they know must follow, to endure Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, The sentence of their conqueror: This is now Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, Our Supreme foe in time may much remit his anger, and perhaps thus far removed not mind us not offending, satisfied With what is punished; whence these raging fires will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames? Our purer essence then will overcome Their noxious vapor, or inured not feel, Or changed at length, and to the place conformed in temper and in nature, will receive Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain; this horror will grow mild, this darkness light, Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring, what chance, what change Worth waiting, since our present lot appears for happy though but ill, but ill not worst. if we procure not to ourselves more woe."

Thus Belial with words clothed in reason's garb Counseled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth, Not peace; and after him thus Mammon spake.

"Either to disenthrone the King of heav'n We war, if war be best, or to regain our own right lost: him to unthrone we then May hope when everlasting fate shall yield to fickle chance, and Chaos judge the strife: The former vain to hope argues as vain The latter for what place can be for us Within heav'n's bound, unless heavn'n's Lord supreme We overpower? Suppose he should relent And publish grace to all, on promise made of new subjection; with what eyes could we Stand in his presence humble, and receive Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne with warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing Forced hallelujahs, while he lordly its Our envied Sovran, and his altar breathes Ambrosial odors, and ambrosial flowers, Our servile offerings. This must be our task In heav'n, this our delight; how wearisome Eternity so pent in worship paid To whom we hate. Let us not then pursue By force impossible, by leave obtained unacceptable, though in heav'n, our state Of splendid vassalage, but rather seek Our own good from ourselves, and from our own Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, Free, and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easy yoke of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear Then most conspicuous, when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse We can create, and in what place soe'er Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain Through labor and endurance. This deep world Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth heav'n's all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, And with the majesty of darkness round Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar must'ring their rage and heav'n resembles hell? As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please? This desert soil Wants not her hidden luster, gems and gold; Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise Magnificence; and what can heavn' show more? Our torments also may in length of time Become our elements, these piercing fires as soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper; which must needs remove the sensible of pain. All things invite To peaceful counsel, and the settled state Of order, how in safety best we may Compose out present evils with regard Of what we are and where, dismissing quite All thoughts of war; ye have what I advise."

He scarce had finished, when such murmur filled Th' assembly, as when hollow rocks retain The sounds of blust'ring winds, which all night long had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull seafaring man o'erwatched, whose bark by chance of pinnace anchors in a craggy bat After the tempest: such applause was heard as Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, Advising peace: for such another field they dreaded worse than hell: so much the fear Of thunder and the sword of Michael Wrought still within them; and no less desire To found this nether empire which might rise By policy, and long process of time, In emulation opposite to heav'n.

[survivorsfm]

* PLOT DROP # 1 : the one with the rescue.

it was supposed to be our first approach beyond the borders of boulder after the infiltration, it was supposed to be okay …

for the first time in more than a year, after the trauma caused by the coalition’s schemes and violence, after the losses and the efforts, our scouts and scavengers ventured on the far side of their usual spots, to the borders of the city— beyond them. with resources scarce and dangers abundant, after much preparation, a visit to the next closer town seemed like the best course of action. and it was proved right when the nearest village was not only devoid of others, but plagued by very few infected and useful supplies still standing and around despite the pass of time.

the trip resulted in such a success that whistles and soft singing hums vibrated from some of the team’s members’ throats as they made their way back, hands full, bags even fuller, hearts thumping in their ribcage at the wonderful news they knew their community was in such strong need of.

                              but it was too good to be true.

or maybe it was bound to happen, although nobody could see how.

the hums and the singing and the quiet laughs were quickly shushed by nearby noises, alerting the scouts who deployed immediately, seeking the danger, ready to neutralize it. they found it only a few blocks from the uec’s grounds and the sight made anger simmer within them — a coalition’s camp had been set, too close to them, too close to the place they had promised to destroy come hell or high water, even after being defeated and outcast more than a year ago.

rage harbored deep inside the scouts at the realization, bile rising with it until it seethed in the hollow of their throats. nonetheless, they managed to act carefully, getting close only enough to listen, to gather something relevant if they were lucky and take it to their people, to alert them, to prepare them.

“ nobody is taking our home from us not again. ”

yet the luck bestowed upon most of them ran short for one. josephine barlowe’s scout, young and astute and good - willed got caught spying right the moment he was making his retrieving, the panic and rawness of his voice echoing against the walls of the wrecked city — shouting for help at first, voicing whatever he could recognize at last — the last piece the rest of the team got from him, from their youngest, the one who was barely a man, too often still a child, yet had the will and commitment of an entire army.

“ he’s going to be fine, he has to be. we’re gonna get him back. ”

but none of them was sure of that, none of them could think how to, however … maybe their people would.

TL;DR — returning from the first expedition outside boulder’s limits, the scouts and scavengers found a coalition’s camp being set only a few miles away from the sanctuary. while trying to get intel on whatever was happening and to get any information regarding their home or their enemies intentions for them in the near future, the scouts ventured closer, and in the retrieving from their position, in a situation none of them could foresee, the youngest of them ( and josephine barlowe’s guardian ) got caught by a coalition’s member who approached the boy from behind. desperate at the loss and lost about what to do, aware they were outnumbered to attempt a rescue, the team goes back to the sanctuary in desperate need of help. but how are they gonna tell the rest of the residents this ? how can they reignite the fear and the pain that for so long kept them angry and terrified in equal measures, when only days ago they were finally feeling able to celebrate for the first time in ages ?

                                        this could break them .

⸺   ONE  ,     RELEVANT  PLOT  INFORMATION .

once the team comes back and informs the rest of the community about what happened, the survivors quickly, driven by adrenaline and fear, but also determination and love, organize themselves into two groups.

group one: the rescuers. these are mostly people with considerable physical abilities and / or exterior experience. they’re basically going out there with the risk of never returning looming over their heads.

group two: the holders. these are the people who stay at the sanctuary for whatever reason ( lack of physical / fighting skills, loved ones they have to take care of, authority figure  roles, owner of abilities or jobs more useful inside than outside ) and prepare the place to receive the rescued, even in the worst case scenario.

the ambiance at the sanctuary, especially after group one leaves, is heavy with tension and underlying fear, yet the people get to work anyway, encouraged by the same negative emotions that threaten to paralyze them. they work fast and hard and hold each other during the nerve - wracking waiting. if your character is part of this group you can write about how they feel or reacted or are acting as much as what type of work they’re doing.

the plot development starts the moment group one leaves the school grounds and ventures in the direction of the coalition’s camp, so feel free to explore feelings and first impressions as much as actions or behavior regarding what’s happening and the different outcomes this could have regardless of the group your character is put in.

the  rescuers  leave  at  night,  close  to  midnight,  just  as  a  heavy  rain  starts  to  fall.  the  weather  is  chilly  and  humid  and  it  can  interfere  with  some  of  the  members’  vision  and / or  pace  sometimes.  it  also  makes  it  difficult  for  the  holders  to  get  the  necessary  outdoor  work  done.

⸺   TWO  ,     OOC  INFORMATION .

as  decided  by  the  majority  of  our  members,  the  event  duration  will  be  of  two  ( 2 )  weeks  ( from  wednesday  november  15th  to  friday  nomvember  24th )  with  the  possibility  of  extending  it  a  third  one  if  the  muns  think  it  could  be  beneficial  or  needed.

since  she’s  our  only  playable  radio  operator,  paige  dolian  ( @paigedolian ),  will  be  the  character  in  charge  of  holding  constant  transmissions  with  the  rescuers  while  on  the  mission.  all  updates  and  news  will  be  delivered  by  her,  feel  free  to  use  this  information  to  plot  and  write.

remember  major  plot  lines  ( i.e.  injuries,  death,  getting  lost,  getting  caught  or  wounded )  must  be  run  through  the  admin  team  first !

regarding  ongoing  threads,  you  can  continue  them  only  if   1.  they  are  with  someone  who’s  not  part  of  your  plot  group  ( so  you  can  keep  exploring  your  interaction / give  the  opposite  mun  something  to  write  if  they  don’t  have  much )  and  you  both  have  leave  to  modify  or  carry  on  with  it  as  you  please.   2.  it’s  a  closed  starter.  all  remaining  threads  must  be  closed  or  dropped  to  favor  new  ones  related  to  our  current  event.

⸺   THREE  ,     MEMBERS  PER  GROUP .

group one, the rescuers : cameron miller , jack behrens , josephine barlowe , lucas beckett , lucky fletcher , madison fraser , noah sallow , reuven aronov , santiago silva  ,  theo  coyne , william barlowe , zoya suvedi  ,  lina  seong .

group two, the holders : alistair blair , astoria lewis , aurora myranda , danny summers , david adebayo , eunchul song , link palmer,  nash  everett  , nyla everett , page dolian , teddy delgado , thérèse pillet  ,  isobel  howard  ,  flora  chen .

* admin note: if you don’t like your character placement and / or you think it does not fit them or that in the opposite group they’ll develop better, please let us know so we can switch them to the group of your preference. we did the grouping according to their occupations, facts, and personalities, but we’re aware we don’t know your character as you do, hence the request wouldn’t be a bother at all !

[jackzillanyanut8008]

Star Wars TLJ Rewrite: Part 4

Author’s Note:

This rewrite is completely fan-made. I am not the creator of these characters. They belong to George Lucas, Lucasfilm Entertainment, Lily and Mikaila Orchard, and Disney+ Entertainment. I am not claiming any of these properties of my own. In the event that I do otherwise, I will take full legal responsibility for the misuse of these characters. Please support the official creators and there content. Thank You

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Chapter 12: The Next Vader?

Kylo enters Snoke’s throne room and kneels before his master. “Kylo Ren, I hope you succeeded in the capture of Luke Skywalker as we had planned?” the old man says as he rises from his throne. Kylo looks to the floor, trying to suppress his anger “No, a woman from Jakku jeopardized the-” Kylo says before Snokes interrupts him. “Take off that damn mask! I can hardly understand you…” he snaps as Kylo looks up. The Dark Jedi removes the mask as ordered, his scars still fresh from his battle on Starkiller Base.

“I assume these weren’t from your knights, my apprentice” Snoke sneers as he gently points at Kylo’s facial scars, shuddering at the Supreme Leader's bone-like fingers. “Y-yes sir, they were caused by the enemy insurgents as they fled the base” Kylo says as the Supreme Leader scoffs in annoyance as he returns to his throne. Kylo stands up to interject before being struck by a torrent of Force Lightning, “You are supposed to be the next Darth Vader, but you…” he says as he points to the Dark Jedi “You, with all your training, were bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber, YOU FAILED!!!” Snoke yells, his voice almost shaking the throne room as Kylo Ren shudders in fear of his master’s wrath. “Find the girl, the Sith, and Luke’s apprentice” he says as he slouches in his black throne “Maybe then, you will redeem yourself… Dismissed” he says as he waves his hand.

Kylo stands in the elevator, holding his black helmet in his hands…

Snoke insulted HIM

Insulted his HERO

The rage in Kylo was so immense it boiled over as he smashed the helmet into the elevator wall, screaming his rage and anger out while doing so…

As he steps out he leaves the smashed, smoldering helmet pieces in the shaft as he heads to the hangar.

“Prepare the Shipbuster Cannon, notify Captain Phasma and General Hux, it’s time for the Resistance to end… Permanently” Kylo orders his officers as he heads to his modified TIE Silencer and leads a swarm of dropships onto the Finalizer.

Chapter 13: Battle Plans And Speeder Gossip

Rey and the others gather around a terminal inside Fort Solo, the mining facility turned headquarters for the Resistance as Leia stands before everyone and gives them a debriefing. “Alright soldiers listen up! According to our scouts the First Order has reached Vandor, they’ve brought a shit ton of troops and a shit ton of weapons, but they’re missing one thing: Hope.” Leia says as she pulls up a holodeck image of their biggest weapon yet “Finn, they’re all yours” she says to the former Stormtrooper as he clears his throat. “This is the Mark 3 Ionic Lazer Cannon, or The Ship Buster for short, it generates enough heated plasma to melt through everything except Mandalorian Beskar” Finn says as he points to the massive cannon. 

“However, it needs to be pulled by 2 First Order Tug Walkers, take out the walkers, and it’ll stop dead in its tracks” he says as he highlights a pair of ATHH Walkers on the holodeck image. “So we’ll need a strike team to take them down. I’ll lead the assault due to my knowledge of the machinery. Captain Dameron will lead a bombing squad to blow up the cannon after the walkers are dealt with, all clear?” Finn says finishing the debriefing. Everyone gives out a series of nods and affirmatives “All right let's blow up some walkers, FOR THE REPUBLIC!!!” Finn yells holding his blaster, everyone else following suit as they leave the control room. 

Rey runs into Commander Tico, who’s helping build Finn and the other members of Team Buckethead (the name being picked out by Poe) speeders for the mission. “Hey Commander Tico, how are the speeders going?” Rey asks as she looks down at the Commander. Tico hits her head as she pulls out from under the old speeder and dusts off her overalls “Not bad, thanks for the spare parts from the Falcon by the way Rey, it’s been a real help” she says with a smile.

Rey giggles at the commander “Thank Chewbacca, technically it’s his ship, I just flew it once or twice” Rey says with a blush. Tico gets a smirk “Soooo, you and Amorosa huh? Are you guys going on strong or taking it slow?” she says with an eyebrow raise. Rey laughs a little before clearing her throat “The concerns of the Jedi and Sith are none of your business Commander Tico” she says before leaning in for a whisper “But yeah, it’s been great, we’re planning on going to Naboo for our first date” she says with a little squeal. Tico smiles “Well good for you two, I wish you both the best” she says as she heads back under the speeder “Oh and Rey, Rose is fine, only Leia and the other higher ups call me Commander okay?” she says as the Jedi starts to walk off. Rey gives the Commander a gentle smile “Not a problem Rose”.

Chapter 14: Tugs Of War

Vandor looks out to the massive snow covered tundra, keeping an eye out for any tanks with the other scouts, and Aliana. “See anything V?” Aliana says from across the room. “No, it’s quiet… too quiet” Varax says as he looks back to his binoculars. Then, deep in the white fog, Varax sees it, The Ship Buster. “GOT EYES ON THE SHIP BUSTER!!!” he yells as Aliana hits the alarm. 

Finn and Tico line the speeders up against the entrance. “Alright guys you know the drill: Get in, plant the bombs, get out, blow ‘em up!” He says as he hops onto the speeder and puts on a pair of pilot goggles. 

Varax runs down the stairs and heads for the speeders, “Hey Finn! Me and Aliana are coming with, we can help some of you guys get inside those walkers!” Varax says as Aliana follows suit. “Smart thinking Koslov, Hop on!” he says as Varax jumps behind him in the gunner seat. “Ever drive a speeder before Finn?” Varax asks as he puts on his helmet. “Not outside a simulation, we’ll be fine… I think” he says nervously. “WAIT WHA-” Varax asks before being cut off by Finn and the others shooting out the fortress and skidding across the tundra.

As they get closer the walkers rain down a barrage of cannon fire as the speeders scatter and head under the legs. “GO GO GO GO!” Varax orders as he grapples up to the belly of the massive walker. “Alright, watch your head!” he says before igniting his cyan lightsaber and carves a hole into the metal beast as the others meet up with him. Varax climbs in and hides behind a pile of crates, signaling the others to stay down. He sneaks up behind the pilots and discombobulates them as the others climb in “Alright let's make this quick, Aliana how are you doing on your end?” he says into his wrist commlink. “Almost done here V, on our way down now!” Aliana says as the bombers give Varax the thumbs out as the group repels down the walker and takes off. “Oh please,please, please work!” Varax says as he presses the detonator. Luckily, the Tug Walkers explode in a fiery mess as the speeder team heads back

“YEAH, TAKE THAT DARTH GREASE BAG, WOOOO HOOOO!!!” Varax yells as the group heads inside before his stomach sinks into his feet.

A First Order TIE Fighter flies overhead and launches a torpedo above the main entrance to the Fortress.

Chapter 15: Trench Madness

Varax and the others look in shock and fear as the TIE Fighter starts to circle back “HEAD TO THE CAVES HE CAN’T REACH US THERE” Varax yells through his mic, but it’s too late… One by one the speeders are picked clean. Leaving only Finn, Aliana, Rose, and Varax. The four survivors ditch the speeders and duck into a nearby trench near the main entrance, as a First Order Dropship lands nearby. “HEAD INSIDE ME AND ALIANA WILL COVER YOU BOTH, GO!!” Varax says as he ignites his cyan blades to block the blaster bolts.

Inside Fort Solo, Rey gets up after being knocked unconscious by the blast before looking over and seeing Leia, who was knocked against the stone wall and knocked out. “LEIA, ARE YOU ALRIGHT? SPEAK TO ME!” Rey exclaims. Leia doesn’t respond, Rey tries to heal her through the Force but it isn’t enough. “rey…“ Leia whispers, trying to touch Rey’s cheek, “Get out of here…. Save yourself…” she says, wincing in pain. Rey starts to tear up, “No! I won’t leave you” she says. Leia just looks at her “Rey… Do what needs to be done…” she says as her eyes slowly close.

Varax and Aliana eventually reach the control room, seeing Rey hold Leia’s corpse in her arms, her eyes full of tears. Varax soon realized who was responsible for the attack, and it infuriated him. “Aliana, Rey, get the survivors onto the Falcon and the cruisers, I’ll deal with that bastard in the air” he says as he grits his teeth and heads for the main entrance.

Kylo looks down at the Jedi as he lands the TIE Interceptor in front of the fortress. “Come to barter a peace, Jedi?” he asks Varax. But the Jedi doesn’t respond, only walking towards Kylo, saber in hand. “Your armies bombard my home, threaten the lives of innocent people, and ruin the once peaceful galaxy I call home…” Varax says as he stops a few meters from Kylo “But worst of all, you killed your own mother, and made my student break down in tears” he says holding the blade up as he disconnects the dual saber into a pair of single blades “Peace? Don’t make me laugh, I’m gonna feed you your fucking heart” he says angrily. Kylo notices his master's eyes, the dark emerald green color being replaced by the bright yellow color of the Sith “So be it… Old friend” Kylo says as he ignites his crossguard and charges at the Jedi. 

Chapter 16: Varax’s Vengeance

Varax roars in fury as he charges at his former pupil, swinging his dual blades wildly like a crazed maniac. Kylo struggles to keep up the defensive, getting slight burns and cuts on his tunic. “SHE LOVED YOU, SHE CARED ABOUT YOU, AND YOU KILLED HER!!” Varax roars as he kicks Kylo’s ribs, launching him into the ship. “YOU PREACH ABOUT BEING THE NEXT VADER, BUT YOUR NOTHING LIKE HIM!!! CAUSE AT LEAST HE CARED ABOUT HIS MOTHER, YOU’RE JUST A WHINEY, GREASY, SPOILED ROTTEN LITTLE BASTARD” Varax roars as he disarms Kylo and slices his arm clean off before unleashing a barrage of Force Lightning directly into his face, burning his once white, peach colored skin into a red and bubbly mess as he screams in agony.

Varax deactivates his blade as Kylo writhes on the ground in agony, cursing the Jedi as the Fortress doors seal behind him “CURSE YOU KOSLOV, I’LL FIND YOU AND KILL YOU, AND THAT SCAVENGER BITCH TOO” he screams before being grabbed through the Force as Varax starts to strangle him “You aren’t gonna do shit Ben, the only thing you’re gonna do is die in the snow like a good little dog” he says before throwing Kylo into the cold, slamming him against his ships as the ground support lands all around him.

Hux and Phasma exit the ship and see the Dark Jedi. His once perfect tunic now a mess of burnt cloth, his face a red and bubbly mess leaving only his scar from Rey as the last piece of untainted flesh, his severed arm meer feet away as he looks to Hux “Kill them all… leave no survivors” Kylo says, blood spewing from his lips. 

Hux clears his throat “Phasma, send a search party in and bring out any soldiers you-” he says before being cut off by the ships flying out of the atmosphere. “Hmm shame, wanted to win this one for the Supreme Leader’s favor” he says with a sigh “Get Kylo Ren onto one of the dropships, the Supreme Leader will fix him up right away” he says as he and Phasma head to the shuttle to return to Snoke.

Varax sits on the couch in the Fury alongside some other survivors. “Hey Varax, are you doing okay?” Poe asks as he sits down next to him “I saw what happened between you and Kylo, gave him one hell of a facial job didn’t huh?” he says with a chuckle before clearing his throat. “But serious man, you wanna talk about it?” Poe asks before Varax gets up and heads to his room, locking the door.

Chapter 17: A Cut Deeper Than Any Lightsaber

Kylo screams as he lays on the operating table, as a group of medical droids try to heal his injuries. Eventually, after much screaming and flailing from Kylo, the work is done. His former helmet being incorporated as a medical device used to cool his head, his ribs being replaced with new metallic replacements, and his right arm being lined with a Beskar plating from the harsh winter world of Mandalore. 

Kylo looks at himself as he steps down from the table, as Snoke enters the operating room “How are you feeling my apprentice?” Snoke asks as he walks in, his golden robe shimmering in the light of the operating room. “Powerful, where is-” Kylo says before Snoke lifts up his hand to stop his pupil.

“Patience Ben, Master Koslov will get what he deserves, but for now, your Knights will be in charge of front line duty, at least until you are more accustomed to your suit that is” Snoke says as Hux enters the room.

Meanwhile, the remainder of the Resistance fleet land on Naboo, in the Gungan jungle outside Theed. Rey runs out and breaths in the fresh air “Finally, fresh air and solid ground” she says giggling with joy. Varax follows her out alongside Aliana, who smiles at her girlfriend as she spins around gleefully. “Don’t go too far, there’s plenty of creatures here that’ll eat you!” Varax calls out with a sigh “I swear she’s like a child when she does that” he says as he moves the supply crates onto the ground. Aliana tilts her head up  “I think it’s cute, on the plus side Naboo is middle ground, so the Republic forces on Hosnian Prime that relocated to Coruscant should be here within a week.

Varax grumbles a little under his breath, “I don’t trust Mothma, Rebellion Founder or not she’s not a fan of Sith or Jedi, we better tread lightly” he says crossing his arms. “Chewbacca said that he, Lowbacca, and Master Gungi are on their way here. Maybe they can back us up?” Aliana says with her hands behind her head. Varax shakes his head “What we need is NUMBERS not MANPOWER” Varax explains as the other ships begin unloading soldiers. “Which takes both time and resources”. Aliana scratches her chin, “My mother used to help in the Senate in Outer Rim trade deals, maybe we can contact them?” Aliana suggests with a shrug. 

Varax ponders for a moment “At this point, we’ll take anyone who can hold a blaster” he says as he signals for a speeder.

[midnightscxre]

The trained mask of indifference she had perfected for years cracked like fragile porcelain, exposing a reaction angry and envious, irritated and frustrated, for just a second. . . but according to her rules, a second too long.The very idea that has now blossomed into a shattering scene, colorful sickening picture of female bodies happily grinning around Vince while their fake nails scratched the broad shoulders, brought a rush of disgust from the stomach all the way to the mouth, the heartburn of anger and jealousy devoured the soft walls of the throat like acid. She had never experienced this sensation before, a strong emotion that bordered on hatred but had sharper daggers, aimed more at the heart and less at the stomach, centered somewhere in the middle of the chest, where they say is the center of the soul and the node of the emotional network.

Woman with crimson locks wanted to scoff at his question, to laugh, to eat him alive with an answer full of indifference, but not a sound left her otherwise hasty tongue. The only thing she could imagine were scenes of breaking bones, when this time she was the star of the fight where every female who dared even to blink with their plastic eyelashes at him ended up limping away. " Does it bother you that I don't? " Forcing it out, storm over the green fields of her irises raged further. " Not used to being the one left in the room without even a 'bye, thanks for the quickie ' ? Must have been quite a shock not having your phone filled with missed calls the morning after. Did that ego of yours finally take a hit that knocked it out? " Every single word a filthy lie to secure the survival of the most important thing she nurtured -- the fatal pride.

Being the last one standing had a very different meaning when it came to Clare, it was literal, crucial -- something as holy to her as ten commandments were to believers. However, the bits and pieces of hope in her tried to sing to the common sense, scanning the tone and words of the man along with the direct look of his cornflower irises. They didn't seem dishonest, corrupted by the same pride, fraudulent . . . Clare felt the sting of regret for the hostile behavior, that made the confusion rise like a tide. This was a game where the rules were unknown to her, every move seemed to be as wrong as she believed it was right, and silent whispers about following sorrow and loneliness raised the hairs on her neck. And above all . . . bite of his ego was not flavoursome, it was sour, dry, like ash that stuck to the razor sharp teeth. There was no joy in hurting him. Not even a crumb of it.

Wrinkled circles around the small button nose on his second try to vindicate himself from blame, one she believed even less. There was no secret in the fact Castello favored the ashy blond male, Vince was the golden goose, the seemingly indestructible soldier, the money making machine that was brilliant in what he did, and loved it openly, however, Clare was certain the older male would never turn him into a boy scout, delivering ' cookies of concern 'to her doorstep. If Castello wanted Vince somewhere, it was in the makeshift ring, breaking jaws and causing severe concussions. And if he wanted to know where she is, well, a call as usual would be enough. Avoiding to reveal the true agenda drove the ruby haired woman close to the edge of the abyss of madness. Patience never her strong trait.

Just when she was about to strike again, the male moved, and with it, caused the muscles in the hourglass shape to turn to stone. Oxygen escaped the lungs that didn't draw another portion of that life-important chemical element. Jade green orbs fell to the lips that were the key of her prison for past few weeks. Not even being aware that the show white teeth captured the lower lip and abused it nervously, Clare recalled every dream that covered her mind like a veil of necessity in the last twenty one days from the day she tasted his kisses. The dreams were progressing with each night, adding more nectar of seduction. It was not solely his body that she craved, it was his soul and mind. Imagination forging scenarios to answer her deepest, hidden interest. So many questions she had for him, so much of what she was dying to know, and yet interdicted herself the privilege to ask. Expanding the canvas and paint of knowledge about him only would result in more unjustified longing. . . or so she believed it was, baseless.

" I think th -- "

Thump, thump, thump. . .

Sharp knock echoed through the dimly lit hallway and ate the woman's words away. Swiftly turning the head, Clare glared at the shadows from where the sound came. Rarely she had visitors, never actually, so two in one night was not likely. There was only one logical explanation.

" Another note Susan? I told you where it will end if I find it on my door again. Right where the sun does not shine!"

Susan Lee, middle aged Asian woman with thin nerves and overwhelming hatred for anything that produces sound. The war started when Clare moved in, and naturally, the electric guitar released its thunderous sound penetrating the thick concrete walls -- instantly making Susan's blood to boil. Ironically, for such a noise-despiser, Susan owned three Siamese cats that meowed non-stop, sound also hearable to the neighbors, but of course, that could not possible be an issue. However, like any hypocrite, Susan demanded peace and quiet from everyone else, leading her to Clare's door one night . . . at that was a big mistake. Susan never ran so fast in her life like she did that night, learning the fiery redhead was far more disturbing than the notes she played on that electric instrument. So, Susan decided to staple a note to her door instead, knocking and running away -- like every other ' brave ' person would. Clare was ready to unleash her growing wrath when an unexpected answer came from the other side of the door -- husky voice that definitely didn't belong to the Asian woman.

" Would like to keep that virgin part of me intact, if ya' don't mind much. "

Pleasant, unique mix of Irish and Texan accent traveled to her ear canal.

Oh hell no . . . You must be shitting me. . .

Clare swallowed in utter disbelief while raising herself up. Jace?! From all the nights, all the damn days in the week, he chose tonight to do one of his ' worried visits '. No, she will not open the door. No way in hell.

Rattling of the keys followed.

" C'mn Clare, didn't have no candy today, just opened the door will, ya? I really don't want nothin' come flying in my head if I unlock them myself. "

Fantastic choice of words, just magnificent . . . So easily misinterpreted. . . when it's quite literal -- that man was addicted to butterscotch candy even more than his cancer sticks.

Clare wasn't even aware that she gazed back at Vince, almost as she was about to utter an explanation, reassuring him that it is not as it sounds like and who is Jace, just. . . the problem was. . . why did she had the need to do such a thing? If he didn't mean nothing to her as she was so desperately trying to prove just a moment ago? Liar liar, pants on fire. . .

Sound of the lock turning and a few heavy, careful footsteps followed.

" If another book comes flying towards my head, I swear to God. . . at least pick the one with soft covers. "

Before she could stop it, a tall man with worn-out leather jacket with a patch that said ' President ' on the left side of the chest, walked in with his hands protecting his head. Stopping dead in his tracks, the male's eyes widen, mouth slightly opened when the grey irises spotted another life form in the room. Sheer surprise, slight shock and a hefty dose of amusement evident on his facial expression. One blink, then another, almost as if he was trying to make sure this isn't some comical dream. Oh, but it was real, and as soon as Jace was certain of it, corner of the lips curled in a devilish grin while his eyes bounced from Clare to the unknown man.

" Well, you could have just called Clare, if you had company. "

Jace was fully aware of the way Clare led her life. The non-commitment, avoiding anything even similar to a relationship, quick one-night-stands. . . but he was also completely certain that her place was off limits to that kind of stuff. In fact, he would with no hesitation bet his candy, cigarettes and beloved Harley Davidson that only visitors were him and his crew, and even those tries often ended with doors remaining locked. Spare key he head was a though thing to obtain, but he managed, swore he would use it only in emergences -- which he thought it was, because Clare missing her gig in Mad dog Maddox was something that would only happen if her legs and arms were broken, and she was probably stabbed. . . or, in this highly unexpected case -- had a guy over.

" What are you doing here Jace? "

Clare had a feeling this question is endless tonight. Not sparing the ashy blond man the venom in the tone nor the murdering glare, she took a step forward, although, the man was totally unfazed, calm, not bothered at all by the approaching ' predator '.

" Hand over the key. Now. "

Opening her palm, Clare demanded the thing she didn't give willingly in the first place.

" Hay hay, we said emergencies, you not coming to Mad dog Maddox to play counts as one, I dare you to say otherwise. "

Raising the hand up to dodge hers, Jace explained.

" No, you said that, I said -- return my damn key ! "

Nearly she reached for the blasted iron thing hidden in Jace's balled fist, but decided against it. The scene was chaotic as it is, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she has absolutely no control.

" Hello there mate. "

Oh no. . .

" First time seeing you around. You play at the bar too? "

Knowing every face in that joint, mostly since he supplied them with cheap alcohol under the radar, Jace already knew the answer to the asked question. The man was no musician, but it entertained him greatly to poke at this given delight. For a moment, the president of Devil's stranglers tilted his head. ' Wait. . . is this the guy Clare tried to talk about? Hell. . . he actually survived three weeks after that conversation and is still in the game? This is a first. A damn first. ' Flash of absolutely enjoyed entertainment in his eyes. . . one that Clare didn't miss.

" No, he does not. He is. . . He. . "

She interrupted, head empty for decent explanations and thoughts like a hurricane.

" No? So I guess you are coming with to watch her play, ya? "

Jace took the opportunity he thought he would never witness in his lifetime - a speechless Clare.

" Name's Jace Catto, mate. Forgive the intrusion, but she don't miss her gigs. . . nor did I see a guy here yet either, except me and my crew.

Clare felt the ground under her feet shaking, breaking, swallowing her whole. Cheeks turned pale, jaw fell to the floor.

Vince had grimaced at the abrupt removal of her touch, no matter how much he’d try to claim he was made of stone; the human body made sure to give a harsh reminder that wasn’t always the case. And upon seeing the fire he’d ignited in her irises, indicating he should tread very carefully, that wasn’t something he was going to abide to. Watching her every move from head to toe with intensity as she closed the distance between the two, and as much as he wanted to find it intimidating; he couldn't bring himself to do so. He found it more alluring. Tantalizing. He could pick up on her scent, an unlabeled fragrant perfume, the main component that wouldn't leave his brain.

At the mention of his promiscuous nature, his tongue protruded from the corner of his mouth, slowly sliding across his lower lip. “Is that a problem?” He questioned with a mischievous tone, next words picking at the way she was non-committal, just like him. “Didn't think you’d mind, since you’re not interested.” He tuts, head cocking to a certain degree while canines shown, a shit-eating grin etched his features. He was toying with her. Why else would that be thrown back in his face if it didn’t hold some connotation behind it.

Well, shit. He shrugged lazily, enough where his shoulders hardly rose at all upon realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. Confidence diminishing for a second. Is there any possibility he could put up the charade any longer? Either he’ll have to spill the truth, or at least find some way around it. Trying to get under her skin being the latter as some sort of defensive reaction. He wanted to pick up on some sign that she felt similar about that night, at least he'd hoped to, but the chances were relatively slim. The way her fingers dug into his clothing, nearly turning white with the vice like grip while staring daggers into him for some form of answer. Pondering the thought, trying to come up with something that would be at least somewhat convincing. To buy him enough time.

What’d been said was true, having a higher pain tolerance that is. Being able to take more damage compared to some. Brushing it off as if it weren’t a big deal, thinking it’ll heal on its own without the assistance of a medical professional. Paul would chastise him about it if severe enough, calling him a ‘stupid kid’ in the process and having to almost threaten him to seek help. “Alright, alright. I didn't come here for just for that. Paulie asked about you." He retorted plainly. That wasn’t necessarily a lie, the older man did happen to question the absence of Clare but in a formal matter and didn't mention it much after. “Wanted me to check in and make sure you were still kicking." How badly he wanted to just spill it right then and there yet refused.

Tipping his head slightly, his body leaned forward as if he were about to go in for something more. “Relax.” He interrupted before she had the opportunity to react, mere inches from her face while calloused fingers reached into his jacket pocket swiftly to retrieve a pack of Newport’s. Leaning back to his normal position on the couch and putting some space between them, he reached up to tap the small carton on the tip of her nose gently. “Just retrieving some smokes.” He affirmed, a sense of playfulness behind his actions as if the fiery woman wouldn't hesitate to wring his neck right then and there. “You mind? Unless I'm not permitted then I'll be on my way, it was nice to see you again, Clare."