#so instead i had PURGE on repeat

[perelka-l]

what

[artsninspo]

"Best-friends"

plot: Best friends shouldn't have steamy dreams of each other. they shouldn't be the subject of each other's daydreams. they shouldn't be jealous when you flirt with other ... or should they? Angel's your best friend, but lately you've been pulling away in order to understand your growing feeling for your oldest friend. Feeling the distance angel stops by making all your feelings a little more real.

pairing: angel reyes x Reader

warnings: sweet 🥰 & steamy 🌶️

word count: 2.1K

authors note: hi, so I promised a draft purge months ago this is a little mayans imagine i've had for awhile for Angel, are we team Angel or EZ? Or both? Also, follow @afewfantasies for more like this.

Masterlist

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

You guess the saying is true, men and women can’t be friends without one of them catching feelings. Unfortunately, this time it’s you who’s been bitten by the bug. You and Angel have been friends for so long it feels like he’s always been a part of your life. So much so that your family knows and welcomes him. You weren't always as close as you are now but in the past six months you’ve found yourself thinking about him more than usual. Stealing looks while he laughs, getting a little jealous when he flirts with the girls around the club and missing him more than you should when he goes on runs. Instead of leaning into it you've been trying to pull away and get a grip on ballooning emotions. In true Angel fashion he’s shown up anyways to complete a project you asked him to do since last month. You hand him a glass of fresh lemonade and he takes it wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I'm starting to think this friendship is unequal,” he huffs, taking another sip. You smile looking at the fruits of his manual labour. He’s built you two bookcases in the past hour. Aside from your need for a place to house your hobby, there's a benefit to having Angel performing the task in his wife-pleaser, slightly sweaty, muscles bulging as he lifts the heady wood, searching through piles of brackets, bolts and screws assembling them. His arms, his hands, his attention. Swallowing you look away from him trying to get a grip…

“You do the physical labour and I do the intellectual” you smile tapping the wood.

“Hmm, that’s how this works?” he asks looking up as he slides another shelf into place.

“Yup” you smile “Looks good”

“Where do You want them?” He asks standing. He’s substantially taller than you.

“Over there” you point. He moves them into place without struggle, looking down you find they're on wheels.

“You change your mind too much. I’m not gonna put my back out” he huffs in his angel way and you flip him off playfully.

“While my indecision marinates, my mom wants to know if you want to stay for dinner?” you ask.

“I thought we were going out to eat later?” he asks, raising a brow.

“You know how they are about home cooked meals versus spending money and eating out” you roll your eyes and he smiles.

“Why don’t we eat here then and hangout after?” He offers.

“Ok” you smile and repeats it mockingly in your exact tone. He’s missed you. You hadn't been around lately and it was grating on his nerves. He’d stay up late sometimes staring at the ceiling wondering if there was someone else you were spending your time with. He’d even woken up in cold sweats from nightmares of seeing you out with someone else.

You end up at Angels where you spend almost as much time as you do at your own home. It’s in desperate need of decoration and a feminine touch. He wouldn’t even have cookware and dishware if it weren't for you.

“Come on, the sick shit is about to start” he calls like a big kid from the couch. You smile relishing in the moments where he’s unguarded and animated. Where the smile overtakes the intimidating appearance of a large man with a muscular build and tattoos a part of a motorcycle club.

“Almost done” you shout, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Y/N!” He shouts impatiently and you wash your hands quickly heading to see the action beginning. You sit beside him and he kisses the top of your head wrapping an arm around you. It’s a level of intimacy you don’t share with anyone else. You hold him back and he puts your legs over his. Your mom has said a thousand times that you’re too close to not be together. She thinks it’s a recipe for disaster and right about now you believe her. You don't know when you fell asleep but you wake up to Angel carrying you.

“It’s alright, I got you” he whispers, carrying you into his bed. You doze off again and feel him put a shirt over your tank before peeling off your leggings. You stir again when he comes back smelling like he just had a smoke. He heads to the bathroom. He gets into the bed gingerly considerate of your sleep. Sleepily you scoot over to his warm body and his arms find themselves around yours. You fall asleep in no time.

———-

It’s been awhile since you've  been woken up to morning wood. Angel's dream must be a good one. You smile sliding away from the active appendage and head into the bathroom. Evidence of your proximity is all over. You have a section in his bathroom. When you lift the face wash you smile because it’s lighter than usual. He’s been using it too. You find the dishwasher emptied  and start on breakfast. Angel comes in half an hour later looking like a daydream, with bedroom hair and sleepy eyes.

“Smells good” He mutters.

“I tried” you admit putting a plate in front of him. 

“What are you up to today?” He asks.

“Putting my books away”

“Those things are filthy” He jokes, eating the bacon with his hands like a caveman.

“Whatever” you roll your eyes and he smiles all the way to his eyes very amused.

“Aww she’s blushing” he teases.

“Shut up” you laugh sitting with your own plate.

“What’s up, you’ve been a little distant. Work or mama stressing you out?” He asks attentively. There’s no hiding from him.

“Maybe both”

“You don’t need the job. I told you you can manage the bar” he offers in a bid to keep you close.

“I didn’t go to school to manage the bar.”

“So what, you're gonna be like this for longer?” He asks.

“Explain how I’m being?” you ask suspiciously.

“Not in the moment.” He says “In your head and not letting me in” he says.

“We’ll I'm working through some things”

“What?” he panics internally.

“Personal things” you shrug casually looking into your plate.

“Come on!” He laughs. “We’re practically one person” he snaps, tossing his fork into the plate and sitting back.

“I’m getting my period, who knows it may just pass” you lie.

He deadpans, “You don’t think I know you get your period at the beginning or end of the month. You just lied” he says and you laugh shocked at his attentiveness.

“Angel!” you laugh shocked but he’s not amused.

“You’re seeing someone aren’t you? One of those sissy pretty boys you know I won’t approve of” he says making you smile.

“No, I’m not” you affirm and he relaxes a touch.

“Not a pretty boy?” He raises a brow.

“I'm not seeing anyone” you tell him honestly but it doesn't settle him.

“Y/N, you can tell me so I can look into him. You’ve only been here once this week” he says and you sit on his lap. It's what made Angel different from the rest of the guys you'd been friendly with. He wasn’t trying to control you, he'd be right by your side when the shit got sticky. He’d let you live and he’d clean up all the mess without judgement.

“I’m not seeing anyone, there’s no one you need to kill. I’ve just been trying to get my shit together” you explain and he holds you close.

“You can get your shit together here. There’s enough space for the both of us.”

“What happens when you decide to go steady with one of the barfly’s?” you ask leaning into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“Not gonna happen” He laughs holding you close.

“Remind me to take you back to the gym. Gotta get you better at boxing in case one of these creeps you don't want to tell me about gets out of hand.” he says. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. You feel compelled to tell him the full truth. You get up and pour yourself some water.

“You’re doing it again, wait did one of the guys say or do something?” He stands.

“No, the guys are well, they're great in their own special way…” you shrug, turning your back to him.

“Y/N, you’re killing me here” Angel snaps.

“Angel, don’t feel weird about this okay?”

“No promises” he huffs, leaning forward attentively.

“I’ve been having, I don’t know…” you trail, having never been here before.

“Y/N spit it out” Angel says worriedly.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what us together would be like” You admit. He stills for a while before he finally blinks and his posture relaxes. When he finally takes a breath he places a hand on his heart. His eyes close and he shakes his head in amusement.

“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again” he warns with a smile. It throws you for a loop. 

“I’m here thinking you’re hurt or sick or in danger” Angel snaps.

“I’m not sure I’m not” you joke and he smiles coming over.

“Way better than those books” he says standing in front of you closing the space between the both of you and running his hands down your shoulders to hold both of your hands.

“Huh?” you ask looking up at him.

“Us together, it would be way better than those books” he smiles. Your cheeks burn before you smile back. “It’s about time hermosa” he smiles leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. It’s the first and hopefully the first of many.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to come around for awhile now” he says candidly.

“Since when?” you laugh shocked.

“Since the pool party” he says and that was nearly a year ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask.

“Showing you was better” he says and you think of all the ways our connection has evolved this year. You stand against the counter and he closes the space between you again. He kisses you harder this time. You make out like teenagers and it sends my heart racing. You’re breathless when it ends and you rest your head on his chest. He rubs circles onto your back.

“I just knew you were a good kisser,” he mumbles.

“I need to sort my room out, we can pick this back up later” you tell him wanting more but needing some time to process your excitement and all the new info.

“Why? You don’t need those books anymore” he says, appealing to every one of your senses.

“They aren’t all about sex Angel, just the few you happened to pick up” you reason and he shakes his head knowing it's another half truth.

“You into that shit? The guy getting a little rough and being dominant?” He asks playfully, grabbing you by the neck. He’s never been rough before and your smile answers the question. 

His eyes close in appreciation and excitement. “Shit” he smiles, coming in for another kiss. This one is soft in spite of your acceptance or his rougher side. It’s perfect though.

“You can tell me what you’re into when I’m done” you smile pushing him away determined not to walk into your home freshly fucked after a night out. After all the waiting you and Angel need more than a few hours, all day and all night.

“I’m a simple man,” he says in surrender. “Pretty sure I’ll like anything you do to me” he says, making you laugh.

“Walk me out” you tell him like you would any other time. He gets the door of your car for you as usual but when he hugs you he takes a handful of ass.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he says, validating your feelings.

“Make it a habit” you whisper, kissing his cheek. Angel steps back, closing the door with a full heart and a stiffy.

“Plan to” he smiles knowing there's absolutely no way he's gonna be able to keep his hands off of you. Not even after he's touched every inch of your skin and given you every inch of him. Not after you become a Reyes or after you have a little one making your stomach swell. Not after your home is filled with children and he has to sneak into the bathroom for some alone time in the shower. Not when his hair is more salt than pepper, not when his hands are too weathered to ride his bike anymore. 

Not ever.

*

thanks for reading 🖤 like and reblog for support.

[vodika-vibes]

I just had the most wonderful, terrible idea and I'm gonna share it with all of you. Please be nice, I wrote it on my phone in 30 minutes.

Pairing: Tech x Female Jedi reader (possibly)

Warnings: BYOT (bring your own tissues)

It's been a month since Order 66 went out, and Hunter stares, in dread, at the list sitting innocently on Echo's datapad.

For his part, Echo looks like he's dreading this just as much as Hunter is.

“Did you check-?”

“No. I couldn't.” Echo admits, “Maybe Tech doesn't know about the list yet?”

“He needs to know.” Hunter says after a moment of long thought. “Come on.”

He leads Echo into the next room, where Tech is working on something, and Wrecker is chatting with Omega.

Wrecker notices him first, “Hunter? What's wrong?”

All eyes turn to him, and he exhales heavily, “Tech,” he pauses, before deciding To just rip the bandage off, “The Empire released a list of all Jedi killed in the Purge.”

Tech drops what he's working on and jumps to his feet. He snatches the datapad from Hunter's hand silently and starts a search.

And then he stops.

His hands tremble slightly, and his lips press into a thin line.

Hunter doesn't even have to look at the datapad to know what Tech found. He found her name.

“I…have some work I need to complete-” Tech's voice has a barely noticeable tremor to it.

“Tech-”

“Hunter. Please.”

Hunter pauses, “Yeah. Just let me know if you need anything.”

Tech nods once and then spins out of the room.

He's vaguely aware of Omega asking what's going on and wanting to know where Tech is going, but for the first time, Hunter ignores her.

Instead, he focuses his hearing on Tech. There's a clatter as Tech falls into a chair and the sound of a comm coming to life.

And then he hears her voice, as clearly as if she was in the next room. “Hey Tech!” Her voice was bright and warm, a warmth that three years of war couldn't diminish, “I know, I know. I shouldn't comm you when I'm out, but I just got a call from my Master and he thinks the war is going to be over soon!”

Hunter closes his eyes as a pang of grief washes over him. If only.

“So, listen. I was thinking, after the war, we should take a vacation. Just you and me. We can go somewhere warm and sunny,” she laughs, high and clear, “Or cold and dreary. I'm not picky. Think about it, please? It'll be fun.”

There's a faint clatter, as if someone was trying to get her attention.

“Ah, I have to go. Anyway, let me know what you think. I love you, Tech. Bye!”

The recording stops, and then there's a sound of rewinding.

“-let me know what you think. I love you, Tech. Bye!”

And one more time.

“I love you, Tech.”

Not for the first time, Hunter regrets his superior seuses. He doesn't want to hear Tech's grief.

And, in the next room, tears fall onto a frozen holo of a jedi with a bright smile on her face. Her last words to Tech repeating over and over and over-

[ohbo-ohno]

happy new year's eve @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's another version of the purge au (4k) that i forgot i finished in the process of trying to get the first one done lol

(also when i said "it's essentially the same thing but with different smut" i meant... no smut. i didn't post this one bc i couldn't figure out what to do with the smut. but this has some kidnapping and overall rough creepiness!)

cw: noncon touching, kidnapping, graphic murder, blood & violence, unedited bc im lazy

The soles of your feet burn against the hot asphalt, even though the sun’s been set for hours. The flames roaring from the burning high school alongside you are enough to heat the ground, enough to leave you wincing with every step and trying your best to walk on your toes.

You’re not sure if the wetness on your cheeks is tears or blood, or some sick combination of both. You’d wipe it off to see, but your hands are covered in red, and you don’t want to smear it across your face.

It’s impossible not to flinch at the sudden sound of cackling laughter, some indeterminate distance away but clear as a bell. The laugh cuts off abruptly, followed by a high-pitched scream that makes you wince. You speed up as much as you can, breath shuddering in your chest. You feel a few tears slip down your cheeks, just adding to the tacky mixture already covering your face.

The street is crowded with Purgers, people wearing all sorts of different gear to make themselves seem as terrifying as possible. You’d feel lacking in your black pants and shirt, if you wanted any attention like them. Instead you pray that whoever’s looking for fun won’t focus on you, that you’ll disappear with so many other distractions out tonight.

The sound of a chainsaw revving makes you shudder, and you tuck your arms close to your chest. 

You can’t believe you were stupid enough to come out on Purge night, but there’s no use dwelling on that now, not when you’re still blocks away from home with absolutely no way to defend yourself.

You should’ve known your friend - your now very dead friend - didn’t have good intentions. She’d invited you out with her to vandalize your most recent ex’s house, and like an idiot you’d agreed and walked yourself right into a trap. Your only defense is that you’d had a few drinks before leaving your perfectly safe apartment, in hopes of forgetting all the screams you’d hear outside. It’s the only reason you can think that you were so quick to agree when you’ve got absolutely no way of defending yourself.

Her blood is still wet on your hands. You don’t feel bad about her death, and that makes you feel sick. You’d never thought you’d be the kind of person to actually partake in the Purge, let alone kill during it, but here you are - stumbling home covered in blood with two deaths on your hands. The fact that it was self-defense isn’t nearly as much of a comfort as you need to make your heart beat less erratically, to make the blood stop burning against your skin.

The quick flashes of their deaths won’t stop playing on repeat in your mind - you would’ve died if you’d been any less lucky, and you doubt your piece of shit ex would have made it quick. 

If you hadn’t caught them together - your friend fucking him in the bed you used to sleep in, that fucking bitch - you might not have had the anger necessary to kill them. Might not have had the rage, the energy, to stab them both until they stopped screaming.

Your arms already ache from the force you’d used. You can’t stop seeing your friend’s face, torn to shreds beneath you, blood splattering up onto your own face and neck while your ex’s corpse cooled beside you. You’re not sure if you’re hearing her screams still, or if someone nearby is suffering just like she had.

The only thing you can bring yourself to regret is leaving behind the knife. It would come in handy now, as you walk alone down one of the poorest neighborhoods in your city.

It would come in especially handy as a hand grabs your shoulder, yanking you to the side and into an alleyway, shoving you against rough bricks and ignoring your yelp.

“Well, well, look’it you…” the man drawls, his face hidden by a bright red skull and a black hood covering the rest of his head. “Wha’s a bonnie lass like you doin’ out tonight, all alone?”

You can’t speak, heart thudding painfully at your ribcage as you blink up at him. He’s all you can see, just a bright red skull floating in place.

“Please,” you manage to gasp, hands shakily raised in front of your chest.

“Please? Please what?” His words are sharp, almost bitten off, and he leans closer. “Haven’t even threatened ye yet, pretty thing. What’re you beggin’ for?”

You whimper as he leans closer, hardly inches away from your face, and a loud boom from somewhere nearby shakes the wall at your back. You still can’t tell if it’s blood or tears dripping down your face. You jump at the sound, and your chest hits his. Before you can move back, his hands are on your shoulders, keeping you pressed to him.

“Oh, did that scare you?” He coos, patronizing and mean. “You a little scaredy cat, all alone and afraid?”

You sob, hands pushing at his chest, and he makes a sound somewhere between a hum and a laugh, pushes you against the wall without pulling even an inch away.

“No, no, you’re not goin’ anywhere. ‘S not safe out there for you, kitty. It was so easy to grab you, you want someone else to get a hold of you? They won’t be as nice as me, I can tell you that.” 

“Get- get off!”

He laughs, loud and rough, right in your face. “Oh, I’ll be gettin’ off, kitty. Might take some teamwork, huh? A good way to get to know my new friend-”

He cuts himself off with a sharp Oh! as your knee jerks up into his crotch, the man doubling over in pain and groaning as his head comes to rest against the wall by your face. You barely have enough sense left in you to duck out of his way before his body goes limp against the wall, hand cupping your target.

���Fuckin’ bitch,” you hear him hiss, right before you stumble away, legs weak as you put all your energy into not tripping over your own feet. Your only thought is getting out of the alley, even though being more exposed is probably riskier than just taking your chances with the man in the red skull. Still, there’s some instinct at the back of your mind telling you go, run, and you’re not stupid enough to ignore it.

You hardly make it five steps away before you hit a wall - no, not a wall, a person. 

It’s almost comical, the way you bounce off of him and stumble backwards, losing your balance on weak knees and sending yourself straight to the ground. He’s a monolith above you, a massive figure clothed in all black, the light from the flames behind him almost making him glow. He’s all black cloth and white mask, a skull hovering well past six feet in the air.

The sight of him makes your heart stutter, brings everything into acute focus around you, slowing the world down to a near stop. That same instinct at the back of your mind tells you this man is worse than the last, that you should’ve taken your chances with the red skull. 

You’re jerked back and to the side, shoved roughly against the brick wall. Your face scrunches up at the rough texture against your cheek, your torso flush against the wall and the first man flush against your back. You manage to open one eye and track the new man, your other forced shut from the way your head is angled.

The white skull tilts, and its wearer steps closer. You can’t help the small cry you let out, the way you flinch back into the first man like he’ll do anything but expose you more. His hands are rough on you, one hand locked around the back of your neck and the other harsh on your hip.

The body behind you laughs, push further into the wall regardless of the stinging pain as the white skull steps closer. He stops hardly a foot away, when your vision is eclipsed by only him. You try to struggle against the hands holding you, whimpering when they dig in more harshly.

“You got her?” A voice asks, and it takes a minute for you to realize it’s the new man in front of you.

“Yeah,” the first man pants, holding you close and alleviating some of the pressure against your cheek. “Woulda caught her without you, y’know. She just caught me off guard.”

The white skull rumbles low in his chest, a rejection. You’re not sure if he’s got faith in your ability to escape, or doesn’t trust his partner’s ability to chase. He’s close enough that you can only see the black of his chest, close enough that you can watch him breathe.

“I’m sure. You got a good hold on her?”

The hands squeeze, you can’t help but make a sound disturbingly close to a squeal, and- “Yeah, course, got her tight to me, Ghost. She’s not goin’ anywhere.” There’s an air of desperation in Red’s voice, a strained tension underlying every word. He’s almost eager, but it’s all directed towards the man in front of you - Ghost - instead of towards the prospect of hurting you.

Ghost doesn’t respond, but he steps close enough to press his chest against your shoulder. The three of you are all less than a foot apart, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to get away. Another tear slips down your cheek.

You can feel Red’s chest heaving behind you, and at first you can’t understand why - he hasn’t had to chase you, hasn’t had to fight, there’s no reason for him to be out of breath.

It hits you when you feel the hard plastic of his mask press into the top of your head. He’s eager, and it’s making him pant like a dog. You’d bet he’s drooling behind the mask and the thought makes you shiver.

You flinch when a gloved hand cups your chin, tugging your face up so you’re staring into the eye sockets of the mask.

His eyes are dark brown, so dark that you almost can’t see them past the shadows and the paint over his skin. The flames roar behind him, giving him a monstrous glow.

“Pretty thing,” he hums, chest rumbling against your side. You try to push away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. “You’re gonna be our little toy for the night. Things’ll get worse for you if you try to run. You hearin’ me?”

It’s pure instinct to nod, to give this man what he wants, but you know you’ll still try to run the second they look away. 

“Alright then. Let’s get you home. Johnny,” the man steps away, jerking his head in clear instruction for Johnny to follow and turning away. “Come.”

“Right behind ye,” Red - Johnny - assures, that same eagerness in his tone as he tugs you away from the wall, trotting behind his partner. “It’s gonna be a great night, lass. You and I are gonna have fun.”

You can’t help but whimper at that, letting your body go nearly limp as the man drags you by the elbow. You can’t even fathom the horrors they’ve got in store for you, what fun is to two men hunting for lone girls on Purge night. 

You try to let your feet drag, but they hurt too much for that to last long. You consider going limp, making them carry you, but you’re too scared that they’ll just drag you across the concrete and let you bleed. 

You only manage to keep up with Johnny because he doesn’t give you another choice. You’re practically hobbling from the pain in your feet, forced to walk on the balls of your feet and lean your weight into his hand where it’s wrapped tight around your arm. He doesn’t give you any slack, doesn’t even seem to notice when you struggle to match his pace.

The three of you have walked several blocks - you can’t quite focus enough to count - keeping to the sides of buildings and dodging other people, when you’re tackled to the ground out of nowhere.

It’s impossible to stop the blood-curdling shriek from leaving your throat. Your bare arms feel torn to shreds as you slide across the ground, head bouncing off the ground and leaving you with black spots dancing across your vision.

You’re hardly able to blink, body alight with pain, and the heavy weight over you only serves to make your panic worse. You moan as you roll your neck, staring wide-eyed up at the dark sky and praying the ringing in your ears isn’t permanent.

Your vision is just starting to clear when the man on top of you - and he’s definitely a man, he’s not even wearing a mask and his expression is mean and you find yourself glad you can’t hear what he’s saying - jerks back, his head pulled back until all you can see is his bared throat. 

You can hardly even register what’s happening in the next few seconds. Some distant, detached part of you can recognize that someone slits the man’s throat, that his blood comes gushing out and covers your face.

The first sound you can hear again is your own screaming - it’s an ear splitting sound that melts from the ringing in your ears. When you gasp underneath the man, the corpse, you can feel his blood falling into your mouth. Every breath tastes like iron, and the world is tinted pink from the drops of it falling from your brows.

You can do nothing but pant and shake when the corpse is thrown off of you, replaced immediately by Johnny. You can hardly focus on him, are only really aware enough to know he’s there.

“Hush, bonnie, yer fine,” he scolds, one big hand coming up to cover your mouth, pinky and ring finger holding your jaw shut. “Wanna draw people over? Ye wanna see me and Ghost kill someone else for you, ‘s that it?”

You shake your head on instinct, tears running down your temples, dampening your hair. Your chest aches with the force of your breaths, nose congested from all the crying. 

“Then hush,” he hisses, face so close that you can feel the breaths from his nostrils. You flinch at the loud sound of gunshots disturbingly nearby, desperately pushing against his body to try and see what’s going on. You can hear grunts and moans, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, and your heart races.

Then, the sounds stop. It doesn’t go silent - not with other Purgers still out, still killing - but the area you’re trapped in is quiet again. Johnny drops a little more of his weight onto you, making it even harder to breathe. 

You have to focus on every breath, deliberately making sure you get enough air so that your lungs stop aching. You only notice the movement on top of you after nearly a minute of slow breathing.

Johnny’s hips grind slow and steady against your stomach, and it makes you sick to realize you can feel his erection through his pants. His chest rises and falls with harsh breaths, and his movements are just harsh enough to force your body to move with his.

There’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. Not with shock settling in, his weight holding you pinned to the ground, and the pain in your head shifting to something closer to a migraine. All you can do is focus on your breathing and stare up at the stars.

“Johnny,” Ghost eventually calls, and you can hear him kick what you can only assume to be a corpse out of the way. You can’t help but whimper when he crouches nearby, his boots splattered with blood. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Need-” Johnny gasps, hips stuttering against you before working even more quickly. “Needed to feel her, fuck, Ghost, she’s so fuckin’ soft. Can’t wait to be inside, to fuck her full, feel her squeeze-”

You whine against the hand over your mouth, trying to pull your face away from his grip and only succeeding in dragging your sensitive head across the harsh concrete.

“You’re gonna fuck her out here, where anyone can see? Doubt you’ll be able to keep her safe when you’re pussydrunk.”

Johnny moans above you, dropping more of his weight on each thrust. “Tha’s why you’re here, yeah? To keep me and the lass safe?”

Ghost grunts, fisting a hand in the strip of hair left revealed by Johnny’s mask. “Don’t be a fuckin’ brat, Johnny. You know I don’t have to do shit for you - either of you. Maybe I want to see my mutt get all defensive, growlin’ over his girl. You ever think about that?”

The whine that slips from Johnny’s throat is nothing less than pathetic, his pace becoming uneven as his eyes screw shut behind the mask. “C’mon, Ghost, I’m close, just let me… just watch for another minute, yeah?”

The scoff from Ghost is mean, and even you feel the absurd desire to try and placate the man. He stands abruptly, stepping away from where you’re pinned and leaving you staring at the cooling corpse of a man you don’t recognize.

“You do whatever you want, puppy. Stay here and get yourself off or behave and heel. You know what you’ll get either way.”

You can’t help but furrow your eyebrows as Johnny hisses out shit above you, hips working desperately against you for a few long moments before he drops his entire body weight onto you, knocking the air out of you.

“Okay,” he whispers, seemingly to himself. “Okay, alright, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

He pulls himself away from you with a long oan, pushing up until there’s no place the two of you are touching but you’re still entirely caged in by him. He takes his hand off your mouth to hold himself up and you wince at the string of blood between his hand and your lips.

“Not gonna fuck ye yet, kitty,” he tells you, staring into your eyes with an intensity you don’t quite know what to do with. “Ghost’ll make the both of us regret it, and ye don’t deserve that on your first night home.”

You hardly manage to bite back a whimper. “Please…”

His eyes crease, like he’s smiling beneath the mask. “God, yer so scared, aren’t ye? I can fucking taste it in the air, kitty. It’s delicious. Cannae fuckin’ wait to have you on my tongue.” You shudder, eyes dropping to his neck when his gaze becomes too heavy.

He forces you to stand before you’re ready, leaving you to lean on him if only to avoid crumbling to the ground like a ragdoll. You ite your tongue against a sob at the sight of three corpses around you, a twisted sense of appreciation and disgust warring in your mind.

Johnny herds you like a dog, pushing you by the small of your back and your shoulders as he tries to catch back up with his partner. You’re left stumbling in front of him, unsure and terrified, not quite strong enough to think running away would be a good idea. It doesn’t take long for you to spot Ghost’s large back on the street in front of you, and a part of you resents the fact that he’s already so recognizable. 

He’s an overeager shadow, unable to decide if he wants to tug you forward or chase you from behind. He ends up almost circling you, shifting from your back to your side to your front and back again, always moving, always rushing. It leaves you unstable and nervous, unable to predict what he'll do next.

Chills run down your spine at the thought of this man… taking you. If you’re this terrified of him fully clothed, you’re loath to think of how you’ll react when he gets you where he wants you.

The two of you only manage to catch up to Ghost because he stops for a cigarette. His pale jaw is exposed when he tugs the mask up enough, and you try your best to memorize the scars covering his face, telling yourself that you’ll remember him, that you’ll never let him near you again once this night is over.

The look he sends Johnny is approving, the look he sends you is distinctly smug. It makes your teeth grind, makes you really wish you still had that knife so you could lurch forward, thrust the blade into the solid center of him and twist, pull out again and aim a little higher, then again, then again, then again-

“Made your choice, then?”

“Yes, sir. Wanna be good.”

Ghost hums, flicking the butt of his cig then dropping it to the ground, the cherry still glowing. “Settin’ a good example for your girl, huh? That’s my boy.”

The sound Johnny makes is animalistic, and despite the harsh grip he’s got on your arm you try to lean as far away as possible. There’s a building energy under his skin, a twitch in his fingers, that unnerves the animal part of your brain in ways Ghost doesn’t. 

“‘Course. Gonna teach her how to be good, too, gonna keep her perfect for us.”

Ghost is completely stoic with the mask tugged back over his face, nothing but his heavy gaze as he stares you down. It’s hard not to jerk away from Johnny and run, no matter how futile you know the effort would be. 

He reaches out a big, gloved hand towards your face, moving quickly enough that you can’t fully flinch away and hide your face in your shoulder or chest. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, smearing the sticky mess of liquid across your face and huffing a sound just loud enough for you to hear.

“Cat got your tongue, girl?” He rumbles, a faint note of something in his voice lost in the sounds of anarchy behind you.

You try to shake your head, unable to manage anything more than a, “Please.”

Johnny scoffs beside you, wrapping both of his massive arms around your shoulders and holding you close. “Broken record, this one. Hasn’t said much else since we nicked her.”

“That’s alright,” Ghost rumbles, give Johnny one firm stroke over his mohawk. “I’m sure you’ll drag all sorts of pretty sounds out of her tonight. Now, let’s get goin’. Don’t want your little toy gettin’ her nerve up and earnin’ herself a punishment so early in the night. Come, now.”

Johnny laughs, loud and harsh as he tugs you to follow him and Ghost. You know you should be upset about what he’s said, know he should be doing exactly what he warns against and try to get away.

But you’ve got no energy left to fight. Everything hurts, your system is overrun by fear and just the tiniest drop of adrenaline, and your best chance of making it through this night is passing out and forgetting any of it ever happened.  

A few tears, stragglers, drip down your cheeks when Johnny tugs you beside him. The places his fingertips squeeze against your arm have gone numb, and your feet feel like they’re on fire. Your arms are sluggishly bleeding and you’re not convinced you don’t have a concussion.

It’s hard to hold back sobs when you think of how much worse it’s going to get. Staring at the broad back of Ghost, feeling the feral energy of Johnny hardly contained by your side, all you can hope is that they let you survive the night.

You close your eyes as Johnny guides you, take a deep, steadying breath, and pray for your own strength. You tell yourself that maybe next year you can seek them out, find them at the very start of the Purge and get your revenge.

It’s a comforting enough daydream to lessen the aches of your body, to shine a spot of light after the hurricane of your future. 

[txttletale]

I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how could someone like you, who otherwise has such based opinions, be a fan of Stalin? How do you reckon with his crimes? Especially when Trotskyism is right there for you to follow instead?

i'm not a 'fan' of stalin--i don't consider myself a 'fan' of any historical person. i would not even consider myself a 'fan' of people whom i admire, who have seriously influenced my thinking with their theory (e.g. lenin). and for much the same reason i am not a 'fan' of stalin i feel no need to reckon with 'his' crimes--he was just one person. stalin neither 'perpertrated the purges' nor 'starved ukraine' nor 'industrialized the USSR' nor 'defeated nazism'. he would have had to be a very busy man to execute all those folks and eat all that grain and mine all that coal and kill all those fascists on his own!

i think inasmuch as stalin personally influenced policy in the USSR, he mostly did so for the worse (e.g., encouraging a lot of the social reaction of the 30s in regards to LGBT and women's rights and national minorities, standing by lysenko long after it became clear that his theories were bullshit) -- where he did so for the better, it was usually because he recognised the value of adopting the positions of someone who was a better and more capable theorist. so i don't care for the lionization of the man that goes on in some circles.

however, i'm not interested in condemning him as some cartoonish supervillain either. if you have gotten the impression that i am a 'fan' of stalin, it is likely because i refuse to repeat anticommunist propaganda about how he killed One Gazillion People, because i sharply shut down anybody i see trying to propagate the fascist double genocide myth, because i think that the positive achievements of the USSR in the 1930s and 1940s--improving the lives of millions, performing one of the fastest industrializations in history, defeating German fascism--are impressive and laudable and refusing to learn from them because of a fear of 'stalinism' (something which i don't think meaningfully exists or ever did) is misguided and counterproductive, and because i think that the failures of that period are better understood as the results of the legacy of russian chauvinism and of the strain on soviet political systems caused by the civil war and wwii rather than the liberal conception of history where stalin, god-emperor of russia, unilaterally decided to Be Evil because he was a Sicko

as for why i'm not a trotskyist, i've covered that here. i simply don't think that any of trotsky's critiques were useful to anybody except the US empire, i think most of trotsky's theoretical positions are wrong, and i've had nothing but deeply deeply negative interactions with trotskyist organizations in the real world.

[correlance]

Rewriting 'Hazbin Hotel': Charlie and Adam

I'm rewatching Episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel, and aside from what others have already said about the meeting between Charlie and Adam taking way too soon in Season 1 - when it should probably be a mid-season reveal, more like Episode 4 (or Episode 6, if Hazbin had gotten 12 episodes instead of 8) - and I keep thinking about how I would personally re-write this scene between Charlie and Adam.

For one, while yeah, Adam comes across as entitled, arrogant, elitist, sexist, misogynistic, and douchey in this scenes for humor purposes ("haha, he's a dick, which makes it funny"), I feel like he should have shown more "yeah, I'm gonna need you to come in on a Saturday" (Office Space) vibes in terms of his attitude and dialogue. Heaven is supposed to be like a bureaucracy, so have Adam act like a manager.

Example: "Yeah...sorry, sweet cheeks, but we just can't do that. You see, in Heaven, we actually have standards to uphold. It just wouldn't look good for our image if we, y'know--wow, that is good--" (stuffing face with his food) "--just stopped purging sinners. Hell would get overpopulated so quickly, which would make us look bad. I do have some great news, though!" (Charlie: "Really?!") "We're moving the next extermination up by 6 months to make Hell a cleaner, happier place for everyone!" (cue disagreement and riff-off with Charlie)

I would have him also mention what a "dumpster fire" Hell is, and how - and why - he refuses to even so much to step foot in Hell, much less meet in-person with Charlie or Lucifer, because he doesn't want to "get dirty". This is especially true, given how disgusting Hell is after an extermination, or even in general, as seen with "Happy Day in Hell".

Here's another minor detail I would change: Since Adam's song repeats a line about sinners "boiling in the pot" twice, actually have him be eating a lobster. Y'know, an actual animal that gets "boiled in the pot"? It would underscore and highlight how sadistic Adam is, to the point where he is eating an animal he literally boiled alive for fun.

[begirlywithme]

A long time back, I used to cycle through purging. I would throw away all of the pretty & delicate girly things that I'd bought. In one instance I threw away a brand new set of red matching lingerie from Victoria's Secret that I'd only worn once. It was such a waste!

I was also deeply closeted back then, too. So much so that I'd made up a story to tell the ladies working at Victoria's Secret. That I was there shopping for my (then-nonexistent) girlfriend. I really had to work up my courage before even going inside the store. I lost count of all the times I "chickened out" before and couldn't go through with it. I'd feel even worse when that happened.

This was long before I transitioned & began female hormones (HRT), and so my measurements were correspondingly male. The somewhat incredulous sales ladies didn't seem to buy my story either, that my girlfriend had "about" the same measurements that did; I otherwise did not know what sizes to get for myself. Looking back that must have been pretty obvious. But I really needn't have lied. Because it didn't really matter.

But I'd made up this story because I was too embarrassed to admit to anybody what I was really feeling inside. I was also embarrassed and not accepting of who I was. So I'd throw everything girly away. Over time, the feelings of girliness and of wanting to be that way would get stronger. Until I would finally break down and buy women's underwear all over again, that I could put on under my male clothes. So that nobody else would know.

But I did know. And because I had not yet completely accepted that being this way was okay (and it is), I would feel guilty and the purging cycle would repeat. Over and over again.

If this is also your experience. And you purge. Then please consider stopping. The next time you feel guilty or bad enough that you want to throw everything away, just stop. Stash the girly things away someplace for a while instead. Give yourself a break from social media instead of deleting your account. Keep pictures you may have taken of yourself. Or whatever. Just put them someplace else. So they are not gone forever. So you can return to them when you need to again. Because you will.

Purging doesn't work. Purging your girly things won't change you into another person. It won't "cure" you at all. All it will do is make you feel bad, sooner or later. Instead of purging, work toward accepting the person you are. That is one of the things that this blog is for. Feeling girly is absolutely normal for you when you're transgender. It is the abnormal messaging we can get from family, some religious institutions, society itself sometimes and others, that what we are feeling is wrong.

But it isn't.

When you purge and throw things away, in a sense it is like you are throwing away yourself. But it won't work in the end. Because you are who you are. So why not start over with the idea of acceptance of yourself instead? You are worth it.

[sepublic]

I find it a missed opportunity that Cole didn't play a role in Seabound with helping Nya unlock her Spinjitzu Burst; If you ignore The Island, which is basically part of the larger Seabound arc anyhow, Master of the Mountain comes right before and is all about Cole learning the Spinjitzu Burst. Given its requirements are to be surrounded by one's element, it's general fanon consensus that this was what Nya did when she unlocked the power of the sea.

Not only does this connect back to a previous season and make the show feel more intertwined, it also gives Cole something to do, builds off of his previous characterization, but also creates the opportunity for emotional conflict. He might be reluctant to teach Nya the Spinjitzu Burst upon hearing what happened to Nyad, or she may intentionally keep this a secret from him. When Nya does perform her big sacrifice, we could have Crystalized begin with Cole feeling guilt because he taught Nya the Spinjitzu Burst; Without it, she wouldn't have merged with the sea.

You could call back to Master of the Mountain again by having Cole ultimately make peace with what he did, by remembering his promise to Lilly, and recognizing that she would've done the same in Nya's place; He would've done the same in her place. In the end, all three chose to stand up to those who were cruel and unjust, to protect those who could not protect themselves.

...That also gets me to another point; The beginning of Crystalized is so similar to the beginning of Tournament of Elements; Both arcs follow the emotional aftermath of the ninja splitting up after a member of their team performs a great sacrifice to defeat the villain and save the day, and eventually have to get together when they're given hope that their dead teammate isn't so dead after all.

I really wish Crystalized hearkened back to that period where the ninja mourned Zane, because it would've been both a sensible callback, and a way to differentiate this arc from that one, by building off of the one which came before. Maybe the ninja ARE still sticking together, with Zane being different in that he's never had to mourn a teammate before; He was the sacrificial teammate the first time. That could lead to him turning off his emotions.

But while on the surface, the ninja seem to be handling it better than with Zane, since they learned their lesson, they may still express their grief in other ways. Such as with Kai becoming more ruthless, which canon already teased at; Maybe this could tie into Lloyd's Oni arc. Like with Zane's sacrifice beforehand, Lloyd urges the team to stick together and this time they do. But like Kai, his frustration with himself for not being good enough, thus necessitating Nya's sacrifice, could lead to Lloyd being more ruthless as a ninja, which could transition into his struggle with the Oni half of him, Harumi's return, the revelation that the Overlord is his grandfather's misguided attempt to purge his Oni half, etc.

That last bit especially, which was left out of the final product, seems to be building up to a lesson about Lloyd not repeating the FSM's mistakes by accepting his Oni half, and he already knew Mystake, Garmadon was finding good in himself, plus the implications of an Oni getting together with a Dragon to create his bloodline... But nothing comes of that. Imagine if Lloyd didn't succumb to his Oni form, but instead accepted it, and by extension accepted the Overlord, absorbing him into his body and making peace with the darkness the way his grandfather didn't.

That could be more interesting than Oni Lloyd actually being evil after all, which is basically the same moral takeaway as canon, just explored differently. It also hearkens back to Star Wars, which Tommy Andreasen takes big inspiration from when writing Ninjago, and the climax of Hunted, if Lloyd chooses not to fight the Overlord, and wins because of it; Rather than fighting Fire with Fire.

[tipsynight0]

The cost of curiosity//part ONE

Paring: Jeff the killer x fem! reader

Word count 2.2k

TRIGGER WARNING: graphic violence, nsfw, drugging, psychological abuse, stalking, gore, non consensual physical contact, death, murder, alcohol, panic attacks, emotional distress, gore.

Synopsis: on Halloween night, Y/N attends a college party by force from her best friend grace in the woods to escape the trauma of witnessing a past murder. There, she meets Jeff, a mysterious and dangerous stranger.

Authors note: hi, yes I might write more on this story, this is me attempting y/n part 2 so hopefully it worked. Enjoy and happy October!

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of damp leaves and bonfire smoke, blending with the sharp bite of alcohol and the faint sweetness of pumpkin. Y/N's black flats brushed softly against the wet foliage as she took in the sprawling party before her. String lights hung from the towering trees, casting a soft, eerie glow over the gathering. Around the central bonfire, carved pumpkins flickered, their toothy grins distorted in the wavering light. Hay bales were meticulously placed for seating, but few people were sitting, choosing instead to stand or dance as the music thumped in the background.

It was Halloween—Y/N’s favorite holiday—and yet, despite the festive atmosphere, her skin prickled with unease. Everything should be fine, she repeated to herself, mentally trying to quell the rising dread in her chest.

It had been almost a year since she'd last been to a college party, and it took her best friend Grace’s relentless pleading to drag her out tonight. “It'll be fun, Y/N! You can’t live in the past forever,” Grace had chirped as they finished putting on their costumes. Devil and angel—how original, Y/N thought wryly. The bodycon dress clung to her curves, the red devil horns perched on her head matching the bold lipstick that stained her lips. Grace, as expected, mirrored her outfit with an angel getup: white wings and a sparkly halo.

In Y/N’s defense, this wasn’t her first costume choice. She hated how predictable it felt. At least she wasn’t one of the countless girls dressed as slutty nurses, black cats, or masked figures from The Purge. She had hoped to avoid this party altogether, maybe get drunk at home in peace, but Grace was having none of it.

As the wind picked up, Y/N hugged herself, her eyes drawn toward the shadowy forest lining the edges of the clearing. Goosebumps rippled down her arms, the dark tree line feeling unnervingly close, as if the woods were watching, waiting.

Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from nearby. Y/N’s heart leaped into her throat, her mind flashing back to the nightmares she tried so hard to forget. She spun toward the noise, only to see a group of college kids shotgunning beers, their laughter echoing in the night air. Her pulse slowed, but her hands still trembled as she forced herself to breathe. It’s just a party. It’s not him. It wasn’t the masked man with blood on his hands.

“Girl, you need to loosen up!” Grace’s voice shattered her spiraling thoughts as she shook Y/N’s shoulder, shoving a red Solo cup into her hands. “It’s Halloween—your favorite holiday! Drink up and have some fun, or you’ll be a total buzzkill.”

Y/N nodded absentmindedly, grabbing the bottle of Bacardi from the table and pouring way too much into her cup. Her fingers trembled as she took a long gulp, hoping the alcohol would calm her nerves.

A low, stifled laugh snapped her from her trance. Y/N glanced to the side and spotted a man leaning casually against a nearby tree. His eyes, shadowed beneath the hood of his dark jacket, gleamed with a strange amusement. The string lights didn’t fully illuminate his face, but Y/N could see enough—matted black hair, pale skin, and a twisted smile carved into his face like a mask.

She frowned, unsure whether to be intrigued or unnerved. "Can I help you?" she asked, her voice laced with mild annoyance.

The man chuckled again, his lips pulling into that grotesque grin. He stepped away from the tree, the crimson stains on his white sweater catching the flickering light. Y/N’s eyes widened, admiring what she thought was an incredible costume. "Wow, your costume is amazing," she said, taking a step closer. "It looks so real."

He met her gaze, icy blue eyes locking onto hers, sending a shiver down her spine. "Thanks," he rasped, his voice low and rough. He casually grabbed a Solo cup from the table, already filled with some unknown liquid. "Made it myself."

Y/N smirked, trying to ease the sudden tension she felt radiating off him. "You an alcoholic or something? Who the hell drinks that much liquor?" His voice was cold, detached, but his words held a strange familiarity—like they had been waiting for her.

She shrugged, taking another gulp from her drink. "I didn’t want to come, so I figured I’d make the best of it." Her voice was quieter now, as if the bravado she’d worn earlier was slipping.

Jeff’s gaze didn’t waver. He studied her for a moment too long, his eyes lingering on the cut of her skimpy dress and the cheap devil horns perched atop her head. There was something cold, calculating in his stare, and yet it thrilled her in a way she couldn't explain.

“You know,” he drawled, leaning closer, his thumb grazing her bottom lip, smudging the red lipstick across her skin. "You may be pretty and all... but if the world were blind, who would you impress?"

Her breath hitched as his words cut through her. Before she could react, he pushed her back, his touch rough and demanding. The bark of the tree bit into her skin as she stumbled, staring at him in shock.

“Screw you,” she hissed, trying to shake off the eerie feeling he left in his wake. Without another word, she stalked off toward the bonfire, trying to lose herself in the crowd of dancing bodies.

But no matter where she went, she could feel him watching. His eyes followed her every movement, unblinking and dark, like a predator toying with its prey. Anger bubbled inside her, but so did something else—something electric, a pull she couldn’t quite resist.

Before she knew it, she found herself breaking away from the crowd and stumbling back toward him. Jeff smirked, backing slowly into the shadows of the trees, drawing her closer, like a moth to a flame.

Her voice was slurred now, a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. “What the hell is your problem?”

Jeff’s towering form loomed over her as he stepped closer, his breath hot against her neck. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings?” he mocked, his voice low and gravelly.

Y/N's body trembled as she pushed against his chest, defiant. “You don’t know me,” she slurred, but her voice wavered.

In a sudden motion, Jeff’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her against him, his grip firm. He leaned down, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “I don’t know you… but I can find out.” His calloused fingers trailed over her skin, slipping down the strap of her dress, his touch both rough and chilling.

Her breath caught in her throat as she met his cold, unfeeling stare. Something about him—his eyes, his smile—screamed danger, but it also made her heart race. Before she could react, Jeff’s hand cupped her jaw, tilting her head back as he crashed his lips against hers. His kiss was rough, demanding, his teeth grazing her bottom lip with a possessive intensity.

For a brief moment, Y/N kissed him back, her hands gripping his face, feeling the rough texture of his skin. But then her fingers brushed over the deep, raw gashes on his cheeks, and her mind froze. They weren’t prosthetics. They were real.

Panic set in as she tried to pull away, but Jeff’s grip tightened, refusing to let her go.

The crisp autumn air had taken on a sinister edge as the night deepened. Y/N’s pulse raced, her breaths shallow as Jeff's rough kiss left her reeling. Her mind was swirling with conflicting feelings—intense attraction laced with creeping fear. Something about his touch felt wrong, too cold, too hard, like he had no warmth in his body. She tried to gather herself, her hands trembling against his chest, but before she could speak, a blood-curdling scream shattered the night.

Y/N’s head whipped toward the sound, heart hammering as a chorus of horrified cries rose from the other side of the clearing. Partygoers stumbled back, forming a panicked circle around something—someone. The string lights and bonfire cast eerie shadows on the trees, flickering with dread. Her gut twisted in fear, but Jeff didn’t move. His grip stayed firm, his cold stare still locked on her, even as chaos unfolded around them.

He knew exactly what they were screaming about.

Y/N’s legs felt like jelly as she strained to see what had caused the commotion. The crowd parted just enough for her to glimpse it—a body, strung up in the trees like a grotesque Halloween decoration. Blood dripped from the kid’s chest, pooling at the base of the tree, his organs spilling out like a macabre display. The string lights above him seemed to mock the horror, casting a dim, festive glow on the carnage.

Her breath hitched, terror clawing its way up her throat. No. No, not again. Flashes of the past, the nightmare she tried so hard to suppress, slammed into her like a freight train. That night. The man in the gray sweater. The blood. She could barely hear her own panicked breathing over the screams, but all the sounds around her faded as her wide eyes locked with Jeff’s.

His icy gaze remained unflinching, cold and calculating. He watched her fall apart without so much as a flicker of emotion.

Y/N's heart pounded wildly, a full-blown panic attack setting in as her chest tightened, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps. She was still wrapped in Jeff’s bruising embrace, his arms like a vice around her waist. The terror suffocating her swelled until it was unbearable. She could feel herself slipping into hysteria, drowning in her own fear.

“Let… let me go,” she stammered, struggling against him as her voice cracked. "I-I have to get out of here." She pushed against his chest, her strength draining, but Jeff’s grip remained relentless, pinning her against him.

“Everything is fine,” he coaxed, his voice low, disturbingly calm.

Her mind reeled, barely able to comprehend his words. Fine? Her eyes widened in disbelief. “There’s a fucking dead body in the tree!” Her voice rose in panic, trembling as she tried to wriggle out of his arms. The alcohol-induced haze that had dulled her senses earlier had vanished. Reality slammed into her with brutal clarity as she glanced back at the gruesome scene. People were screaming, running, but Jeff… he just stood there, unfazed.

Y/N's skin crawled as she stared at him in disbelief, feeling the weight of something truly wrong gnawing at the back of her mind. He wasn’t like the others. His detached coldness unnerved her. What the hell is he?

Before she could act, Jeff’s hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a small vial. The liquid inside was an unsettling shade of blue, glowing faintly in the dim light. Her pulse spiked as she watched him uncap it, dread sinking like lead in her stomach.

"Open up," he ordered, his voice chillingly casual as he gripped her cheeks, squeezing her jaw until her lips parted. “I don’t have time for you to fight.”

Her heart raced as she realized what was happening—what he was about to do. Panic surged through her veins like wildfire. Her body trembled violently as Jeff brought the vial to her mouth, the acrid taste of the blue liquid slipping past her lips.

Desperation fueled her as she spat the liquid back in his face, the taste bitter on her tongue. Jeff recoiled slightly, wiping his cheek with a slow, deliberate motion. For the first time, his icy expression shifted—amusement flickering in his eyes.

He let her go.

Her body sagged as she stumbled back, panting. The ground felt unstable beneath her feet, her legs like jelly from adrenaline and fear. She should have run, should have bolted, but she stood frozen, her mind frantically trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Jeff’s grin stretched wider, the carved edges of his smile grotesque under the shadows. "You’ve got some fight in you," he chuckled darkly, stepping closer. His presence was overpowering, every movement filled with menace. He reached into his pocket again, drawing out a second vial—this one identical to the first. "Too bad it won’t matter."

Y/N’s mind screamed at her to run, but before she could move, he spoke again, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes to hide,” Jeff said, his grin unwavering. "Before the rohypnol takes effect. Better start running… before I catch you."

The words sank in like ice through her veins. Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands trembling violently as she stumbled backward. Fifteen minutes. Her time was already running out. The drug was coursing through her bloodstream—she could feel it, sluggish and sinister.

Jeff’s eyes gleamed in the darkness, his chilling laugh following her like a curse as she finally turned and ran. The woods loomed ahead, dark and vast, offering only false safety. Every step she took, the world around her seemed to twist and blur, her vision dimming at the edges. The trees blurred together, their branches clawing at her as she weaved between them, her heart pounding like a war drum in her chest.

Behind her, Jeff’s footsteps were soft, but she could hear him—stalking her like a predator savoring the hunt. His voice echoed through the trees, taunting her.

"Run faster, Y/N. Tick tock."

Y/N’s breaths came in ragged gasps as her body fought against the drug’s growing influence. Her limbs were heavy, the forest spinning around her as the world tilted sideways. Her legs ached, but she couldn’t stop—not now, not with him right behind her. She pushed through the pain, the terror of what awaited her if she stopped fueling her every step.

But she could feel it creeping in—the darkness, the cold numbness seeping into her limbs. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes before her body would betray her. Fifteen minutes before she couldn’t run anymore.

And Jeff was always just behind her, waiting.

[cf8wrk4u-us]

Across Space and Prime Chapter 3: Masters, Students, and New Guests (Part One)

Sentinel was silent as he laid next to Optimus, but to be fair the other prime couldn’t blame him.

They were currently sharing a berth, the new bots from earlier were kind enough to provide them a habsuite. Stating that it had belonged to a friend of theirs named Cliffjumper, Optimus took notice of how Sentinel had seemed to perk up at that name but said nothing.

 Though to be fair his attitude had been rather subdued after learning about Cybertron.

“-unfortunately, Cybertron no longer exist"

There was a moment of silence, the other bots coming off more somber. But it was finally broken when Sentinel finally found his voice.

“What are you talking about”? Demanded Sentinel “You can’t be serious! I’ll-I’ll have you know lying to an Elite Guard officer is a serious offense! High Command could have you taken to the stockades for that kind of fear mongering-”

“Are you an idiot”?

It was the blue cycle femme who had spoken, her eyes narrowed and servos clenched, she wasn’t the only one as most of the mechs there were giving Sentinel scowling looks.

“Why would anyone lie about that”?! She asked “That our planet was destroyed”.

“I don’t know any of you”! Sentinel said defensively “You could claim your Autobots but how can we know?! Where’s your proof-”?!!

Ratchet abruptly moved and went over to one of the monitors.

“Ratchet…” the other Optimus said softly, he was the only one who didn’t look visibly angry. His face and eyes were more grieved than anything.

But the medic ignored him, that is till an image appeared on the screen.

“Proof? Here’s your proof”

Sentinel and Blackarachnia gasp were the only clues Optimus had before he fully faced the screen ahead. And what he saw left him near purging.

He hadn’t seen his home planet for so long, but his recolations was a beautiful silvery orb with veins of vibrant blue and gold that shone a healthy luster across the planet's surface.

But that wasn’t the case for this.

Instead the planet before them was a gray husk just hanging in the vast darkness of space. What was once a healthy thriving and healthy planet now looked like a dead corpse, completely deprived of light.

“No”.

Optimus looked to see Sentinel look at the planet with wide eyes and a gaped mouth.

“This-this isn’t happening” he said before bringing both servos to each side of his face “This can’t be happening…”

“Happening”? Ratchet repeated with a scoff “It already happened”

“Ratchet” the older him said more firmly. The medic flinched at his tone but didn't falter, continuing to give his group a contemptuous look.

“I apologize” said the large Prime “I would have liked to introduce this knowledge to you all in a more…tactful way” then with a solen look he gestured to the projection if the ruined planet “As stated before, while you may have won your war with the Decepticons, ours is still ongoing and in consequence the devastation of our battles have made the planet uninhabitable, ravaged by centuries of civil war”

“But you're going to fix it right”? Sentinel said almost desperately “Now that you stopped Megatron you're going to get some scientist to fix our planet, right”?

This earned another huff from Ratchet “We just beaten Megatron and barely have the resources and bots who could accomplish such a goal, we don’t even have a ship” the medic shook his head “There is little certainty now if we can or if ever return Cybertron into a functional planet again”

Sentinel acted like the medic had just struck him as he wobbled at the words spoken to him, but that didn’t last long as he turned to face Blackarachnia with a vicious glare.

“YOU”! He said pointing a finger at the femme “This is all your fault”!

“Me”? Questioned Blackarachnia before giving a bitter laugh “I’m not the one to ask you cranium damaged mechs to follow me into that explosion”!

“I wasn’t trying too”! Sentinel snapped “In ether case you better get us back to our correct universe or so help me I’ll-”

“You’ll what”? The spider femme asked, flashing her fanged denta.

Sentinel growled and made to move forward but Optimus stopped him

“Sentinel, please calm yourself”!

The Elite Guard member didn’t fight his hold and even went limp, whispering “We can’t stay here, we can’t…”

Then the voice of his altered version spoke.

“I believe we’ve all had a long day, perhaps we could all do with sometime to recharge and process todays events” the leader than turned to his subordinates “Would any of you be willing to show our guest to a spare set of quarters they could rest in”

The blue cycle femme eyes widen as she stated “But the only available place is…Cliffjumpers”

There was a heavy silence in the air before the Optimus of this world spoke again.

“Would it be too difficult for you Arcee”?

His voice still had that powerful lull but had a softness to it.

For a second the femme face looked grieved before hardening as she squared her shoulders.

“No, its fine” she then turned to the group to shoot them a glare “Follow me”.

Optimus and Sentinel had taken the nare spare room with its too large berth, it was concerning how there was no charge station but having enough energy and Sentinel not making any complaint they didn't ask for any accommodations. Blackarachnia wouldn’t have lodging with them though so reluctantly all bots let her stay in the hallway. With the new Autobots, especially the one known as Arcee, warning her against leaving or trying to mess with their equipment. 

“Oh please, and upset such gracious hosts”!  the techno-organic said sickly sweetly

Optimus really hoped that she wouldn’t try anything, their situation was bad enough. Making these bots, who are battle ready and very much familiar with warfare, angry seems like a very bad idea.

With that thought all of the days events came crashing into the Prime, being apparently taken to a new dimension, meeting other versions of himself and his team, and learning about Cybertron.

The Prime tank threatened to purge at the thought of the version of his destroyed planet.

He had seen old holo-videos of the first war, seen the devastation done to the planet, but in the end the Autobots won and all cities and monuments were slowly rebuilt. That's how their war ended.

But seeing the image of this worlds Cybertron, seeing it destroyed and empty, what could have happened to their planet….what could still happen to his planet…it made him sick.

If Megatron, his Megatron, succeeded in invading Cybertron once more. Sending both their factions into the fires of war. Could that be the fate of their Cybertron?

Optimus viciously clutched the edge of the berth.

He had to get back to his own universe! Back to his team! He needed to be there with them to stand against the Decepticons! No matter what!

With that burst of determination, Optimus allowed himself to lull into recharge.

Optimus and Sentinel were awakened the next day by a loud knock to the door.

Surprisingly it was Sentinel who rushed off the berth and approached the entrance, noticeably stopping to adjust his armor. 

On the other side was the mech named Bulkhead “Hey, did you all rest well”?

Sentinel gave him a curt nod before walking past him “As well as can be expected” 

Optimus followed close behind “Thank you again for taking the time to accommodate us”

Bulkhead only nodded.

The pair traveled together till they reached the main room, Optimus saw Blackarachnia was already there. Seemingly lounging against the far wall, far from the monitors where the bot calling himself Ratchet stood giving them all a curt nod.

“So you boys are finally awake”? She asked, her tone light but in contrast with the sharp smile that she wore.

Sentinel grunted turning away from her but Optimus answered back politely “Well I suppose…and yourself”?

He added that last part with the hopes of starting a cordial conversation, though Blackarachnia still rolled her four red optics.

“I think I have slept better if I didn’t have someone watching every little move I made” nodding her head to Arcee. The lith blue femme watching them from the corridor of the room. 

“I think she has something against spiders” Blackarachnia said, moving a servo to the side of her hamlet “Or in the very least against techno-organic freaks like me”

“Please don’t say that-” Optimus started only to be interrupted by Bulkheads loud announcement.

“Alright newbies, gather around”!

Optimus was the first to approach, Sentinel waited several clicks before giving an exasperated sigh and moving forward. Blackarachnia silently stayed where she was. Optimus couldn’t help but flush at his former classmates' uncooperativeness. 

“Alright, listen up, all of you, there are some rules I want to go over” ” Bulkhead said with a slight sigh “First off, none of you are leaving the base without authorized permission from Optimus-” he stumped looking at the red and blue prime “I-I-that is too say-I mean-I mean our Optimus”

“Of course” said the similarly named Prime, behind him he heard Sentinel snicker.

Coughing Bulkhead continued “Okay, moving on, none of you are to use our equipment without supervision from someone on our team”

“This is all important equipment! Essential for our everyday use and most importantly detecting Energon signatures and Decepticon activity” stated Ratchet.

“Mess with any of it, than your giving us the best evidence your bot the kind of bots who could be trusted” Arcee added, marching closer. Her sharper eyes passing over all of them before focusing on Blackarachnia.

A whirl of buzzing sounded off, it came from Bumblebee who padded energetically towards the group.

<Don’t forget to talk to them about the others>! He beeped

“Was just getting to that Bee” said Arcee

Others?

“Hey, can someone tell me what this bot is saying”? Said Sentinel, irritation edging his voice “Not all of us can understand that noise he's making”

A silence fell over the group at the blue and orange Primes statement, before three sets of optics narrowed in barely suppressed anger with Optimus could feel his own annoyance spiking. While he understood that Sentinel may have a harder time deciphering the binary code Bumblebee was using, his classmate barely passing that portion of technical training at the Autobot Academy and only every able to use the code to message “Broken-Lance” ( a message only Optimus could ever understand), he was really putting his pede in his mouth with making such an insensitive comment.

“Huh, you can’t understand basic binary code” this worlds Ratchet said, his voice not loud but laced with malice  “And you tell me your an Elite Guard member”?

“Of course I am”! Sentinel said in an offended tone.

“Pity to them then” Arcee apathetically

“Hey! Whats that supposed to mean-”! Said Sentinel nearly lunging towards the femme but Optimus was quick to place a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Sentinel” he hissed in warning “Remember, they're housing us”!

The other Prime growled and shrugged him off, but luckily stayed still and quiet.

“Moving on” Bulkhead gritted out “Its not just our team occupying this base, were in contact with this planets government and they've been nice enough to throw us some help and leads to Cons sightings our way…for the most part”

“Optimus, Our Optimus, policy is that while on this planet and working with its people we need to make it a priority to try and protect them from our conflict with the Decepticons” said Ratchet “And if you were to venture out of the base, under supervision of course! You are to up here to the same-”

“Of course” Optimus found himself saying immediately.

“-while also upholding the responsibility of keeping your presence, as well as our existence, hidden from the local lifeforms”

Now that last statement took Optimus systems for a loop.

“What”?

“While on this planet we Autobots must live as robots in disguise” rumbled a voice behind them.

Optimus and his group whirled around to see the other version of himself walk into the room. Again the other Optimus couldn’t help but admire his alternate selves form, just the way he walked was so dignified and sophisticated. The contrast made by the light scratches of battle did not diminish that image of him. 

A seasoned warrior and a confident leader.

Everything he has yet to achieve.

“Wait so you expect us to stay hidden in front of those organics”?! Sentinel exclaimed “Whats even the point? If we were fighting Decepticons, shouldn’t that take priority than trying to hide ourselves away? In fact limiting our presence could put us at a disadvantage-”

“What be disadvantage would be announcing our presence to every Decepticon on the plane” gritted out Arcee “Keeping a low profile is what keeps the Cons off every time were out, keeps our base secure, and keeps us from making any unnecessary casualties out of the humans”

“Well this is war isn’t it? Casualties are bound to happen, especially with little organics”

The hard stares thrown Sentinels' way now turned deadly. 

Bulkhead gave an audible growl “The kind of words you expect from someone who's never fought in a war”

“Hey”! Sentinel challenged, squaring up to the larger bot “I’ve been in plenty of battles! And smashed the processors of plenty of Con scum”!

“Optimus Prime, sir”! Optimus aid out loud with a salute, ignoring the doltish way it felt to address himself so formally “Rest assured I will make sure me and my companions follow your instructions to the fullest”!

His other self arched a brow before giving a small satisfied nod “I appreciate if you would, and in return my people will do all we can to support your endeavor in returning…to your own universe”

Optimus had mixed feelings about the hesitance there.

“Good helm on his shoulders” mumbled Ratchet “Obvious he's a version of Optimus”

The Prime felt his face plate heat up at the statement. 

“Look, one last thing, whatever you’re feelings on humans are, you need to set them aside” said Arcee “We live on their planet, we work with their government, and ultimately there is no escaping theme, got it”?

The last part was directed to Sentinel who simply crossed his arms giving a strained smile “Fine, but don’t expect me to like it”

The blue femme then turned to Blackarachnia “You're oddly quiet, do you think you’ll have any trouble following any of our rules”?

“Sweetie, if I had a problem with any of this I wouldn’t be shy about it” the spider-techno organic said nonchalantly.

Arcee seethed silently at her blase response but seemed to cool before saying “And going back on the topic of humans, there’s one last thing we didn't mention yet”

“What's that”? Asked Optimus

“Oh” he said later as he saw the first human swing their leg off Arcee vehicle mode.

The Prime Team, or that's what he’s beginning to call his counter-selves group, did explain how they picked up some human civilians who they accidentally got in contact with. They made assurances that their group would be solely responsible for them. With his alternate version adding for their guest to please be mindful of these humans, both of their age and of their stature.

Basically attaching a “Watch Your Pedes” rule.

Something Optimus was used to given his experience with Detroit's citizens and his time housing Sari after her fathers disappearance. And given the increased height of this universe's bots it made sense that they engaged in this practice.

He didn’t think Blackarachnia would have a problem following this rule, mostly due to her pure disinterest in humans but also due to her light figure and small pedes. Sentinel of course could pose a problem, but Optimus felt assured that in the end he probably stay far away from the humans.

“OMG”!

Far, Far, Away.

The loud squealing came from a young human girl, older than Sari as she launched herself from out of Bulkheads vehicle mode, an armored SUV instead of an assault truck, and launched forward towards the group at surprising speeds with her brightly colored pedes and her words.

“So It Is True! You guys found a bunch of new bots! THATS EPIC”!!! The girl went on, moving up and down excitedly “So who are you guys? How did you get here? What's your story”?!

Optimus felt a smile form at the humans frenzied questions, it all felt reminiscent of when his team first encountered Sari. He moved his optics over to the other humans; both male it seemed. One was the tallest of the group, with dull coverings that made up his wardrobe and dark organic hair that swiped across the top of his faceplate. The next one looked as small as Sari was, dressed in warmer colored clothes and wearing optic enhancers that meant this human might not have the strongest eye sight hence the need for the objects. Finally their own hair was a light brown that spiked up on top of their own helm.

The pair gave Optimus and his group shy smiles and waves, the pair the Prime returned with his own smile.

It seems though he was the only one though as side-eyeing his companions, Blackarachnia had her arms crossed and red optics narrowed at the humans while Sentinel was visibly cringing as the female human approached closer and closer.

So deciding to help his former classmate, or as the humans call it, “throw him a bone” Optimus croached gently in front of the young humans.

“Hello there, thank you for welcoming us into your base” he started “My friends and I are very new here, so it be a welcome if you could help us navigate our way through your world”

The children's eyes immediately sparkled with excitement and the girl's attention was now on him “Of course! We can show you around! I’m Miko by the way, and these two are Jack and Raf” she said waving to her companions “Though Jaspers is kind of a snooze fest…but hey we can take you to other places! How fast is your car-mode? How many seat-”

“Actually they probably need some altmodes” Bulkhead said coming up behind the humans, and was it just Optimus or did his voice have a bit of an edge to it?

Acree looked sternly at them “I say we hold off on that, I don’t think any of us can spare time at the moment or at least for today”

“Actually” Sentinel surprisingly said “I’ve already scanned some typical earth vehicle for myself”

This got a wide eyed stare from everyone that made the blue and orange Prime chest plates puff up proudly.

“Really”? Arcee asked in honest astonishment “When did you even manage to do that”?

“Well as you might not know” said Sentinel swaggering towards the fem bot “An Elite Guard member is always prepared…maybe I can teach you all a thing or too“

The amazed look on Arcee face then hardened again “Right, if you say so” 

<I knew you guys had vehicle modes back at the cave, I just didn’t know they were earth styled> inquired Bumblebee

“It was pretty dark in the cave, didn’t have a chance to see what wheels you carried” said Bulkhead “Wanna show us”?

“Yes! Please”! The girl named Miko begged

Feeling all eyes on him now Optimus sighed before beginning his transformation, it took little effort at this point and in the end he was now seemingly an ordinary vehicle before them.

“Whoa, another truck! Awesome”! Exclaimed Miko

“He kind of reminds me of a fire engine” remarked Jack

“Just no trailer” added Raf

“I can equip ones when available” Optimus added before turning back

Sentinel than stepped forward “Alright, take a look at his one”

The other Prime then did his own seamless transformation into his altmode. But by the make of it most of the new autobots and the humans looked confused by his former classmates chose in vehicle.

“Is that a…snowplow”? Asked Raf

“Well at least its a truck” Miko said with the same amount of enthusiasm

“I’m not sure if it's the best vehicle to go incognito in” said Jack “I mean a snow-plow around Jasper? That be kind of suspicious-”

Sentinel quickly transformed back, an angry expression “Well how would you know”? He demanded.

“Um, cause I live here” Jackson responded but was obviously nervous as he took a step back from the mad robot.

Arcee took a protective step towards the human so Optimus took this as his chance to grab Sentinel by the arm and pulling it back “Easy Sentinel”

The female bot looked between them and the kids before exhaling.

“Alright guys, let's get started on your projects” she said to the children “Or did you not need our help”

“Ah! But I wanna keep hanging out with the new guys”! Whined Miko but stopped as if a thought occurred to her.

“What are you names by the way”?

Optimus knew this conversation would come up but still didn’t look forward to it “Well, the mech besides me is called Sentinel”

“Sentinel Prime”! His former classmate emphasized pointedly.

“Yes, and the other is named ahem-Blackarachnia” Optimus had stalled for a moment, unsure if he should have addressed the fem-bot by her former name or her  new Decepticon name to the children.

The femme in question actually reacted to that statement by giving the humans a sharp tooth smile, the boys flinched but Miko only grinned and whispered “Wicked”~

The Prime knew they were expecting his answer and tried to word it out the best he could “And I, well…I’m called Optimus”

“Prime” reminded Sentinel 

All three of the humans looked open mouthed at him now making Optimus shift uncomfortably.

“Your name is Optimus…Prime”? Asked Jack “Like our Optimus”?

“Uh”

“Thats a coincidence” said Raf

“Well, you see-”

“Jeez, your parents must have been fans” remarked Miko with a laugh.

“I don’t have organic guardians like humans have” Optimus said weakly

“Not a strange thing if your from another world” said Bulkhead 

“WHAT”???!!! Screamed the humans

Bumblebee shoulders slumped <Really Bulkhead?>

“Smooth” said Arcee 

Then after a short explanation it looked like the children had even more questions for them, especially Miko.

“But how can you be Optimus”? Asked Miko “Your so…small”

Sentinel and Blackarachnia actually laughed behind him as Optimus pressed his lips.

“Look, this situation is a mystery to us too” said Arcee “But as of now we proceed as we would normally, Decepticons are still out there and you all still have a science project, right”?

The humans reluctantly agreed and soon enough supplies of miscellaneous items were pulled from Bumblebee and Bulkheads subspaces.

“Maybe, I should change my topic” Miko remarked carrying a paint can “Interdimesional travel sounds way cooler”

“Too late now” said Jack, rolling an actual motorcycle pass the floor.

With the Prime group gone, Optimus and his companions were left on their own.

“Really, they’re going to hang out with a bunch of organics instead of going after those Cons or help us find a way back to our own universe” huffed Sentinel

“They already said they don’t have the supplies Sentinel” said Optimus “Just give it time”

“Of course your on their side” said the Prime 

“Aw, poor Sentinel” said Blackarachnia mockingly “No one caring about your poor feelings”!

“Hey! I have ever right to be worried about getting home”! Snapped the blue and orange Prime before spinning to Optimus and hissing “In case you forgot, Ultra Magnus is in critical condition and Cybertron is without any kind of leader as Decepticon troops are pushing against our borders”! After that he stomped off.

Optimus felt a pang of guilt inside him, he looked to Blackarachnia who didn’t bother to meet his gaze. The other Prime then decide to go after his friend.

Surprisingly when he found Sentinel he was crouching by a corridor.

“What are you-” Optimus tried to ask only to be hushed by the other Prime

So reluctantly Optimus crouched down to see what Sentinel was looking at. In the other room he saw the other Ratchet and his other-self, he had wondered where they had left after giving the children a polite greetings.

 "Optimus, why so glum”?  Ratchet was asking  "This planet, all planets are finally free from Megatron's tyranny”

"I do not disagree, old friend," the other Optimus said, closing his optics for a split second, "it's just… a small part of me hoped to change Megatron's mind, not extinguish his spark”

The other Prime couldn’t believe what he heard. Change Megatron's mind? The leader of the Decepticons? As much as he admired his other-selves image he couldn’t help but criticize how naive he sounded. The Megatron from his world fought him to the death every other day and sent his lackeys to do the same with his team. He had slaughtered millions of Autobots and raised colonies to add to his own empire. 

This worlds Megatron sounded no different.

Yet his other-self thought the tyrant could be reasoned with?

“Geez, Optimus” said Sentinel “Never took you for a Decepticon sympathizer”

“I’m not”! Optimus defended.

"Optimus, his vileness was not slain by your hand but by his own twisted arrogance”! Ratchet exclaimed.

"Hmm," the Prime grunted

"I'm sorry," Ratchet said after a second of silence "I know the two of you had quite a history”

History?

Optimus wondered what kind of history could his alternate self could have possible have with the Slagmaker to be so regrettable about Megatron's demise.

"Its alright” the mech finally said “The Megatron whom I once fought beside perished eons ago, the day he chose to become a Decepticon”  he continued "And while the Decepticons may be in disarray, they aren't without leadership” that Optimus  turned around and looked at the medic  "And while Starscream is no Megatron, he is far from predictable”

Finally something Optimus can agree, Starscream was a dangerous foe. And despite Megatron being a major threat to him and his team, Starscream was his own flavor of danger. Especially given how he nearly killed Optimus when his team attempted to defend the Allspark and save the hostages or how he nearly offlined Ultra Magnus. 

Suddenly they all heard an explosion within the base.

 "Decepticons! We're under attack!" Ratchet shouted rushing over, Optimus and Sentinel were falling over themselves to scramble back but it was clear on how they crowded the hall they had been nearby.

“What are you two doing”?! demanded Ratchet after he almost fell over Sentinel.

“Um, well…” Sentinel stuttered 

“Oh for the love of Primus”! Ratchet cursed before pushing by them.

Sentinel and his fellow Prime could only stand awkwardly as the other Optimus politely passed them by with an arched brow.

 The four Autobots went to where the explosion came from but saw no Decepticons, only Raf and Bumblebee working on what looked like a miniature volcano.

"It's no attack, Ratchet," Raf said,obviously hearing the shouts made by the medic "It's my volcano" the boy added when suddenly it dissolved a little, "Or was…"

"Hold still, Bulkhead," Miko said, Optimus saw the mech holding a display of miniature planet's of earths solar system laid out on the ground with several paint can nearby "Jupiter needs its red spot”

The girl with a brush in hand made a stroke against her model of Jupiter, jumping back as some dropped on the ground "Whoopsie”!

"What... in the Allspark is going on here”? Ratchet asked.

"Our projects are due tomorrow," Jack replied from below as he and Arcee worked on the motorcycle that they had brought in.

"Maybe it needs one of these doohickeys," Arcee suggested handing a part to the human

"You're a motorcycle, Arcee," Jack said, "Shouldn't you know how to build a motorcycle engine”?

"You're a human, Jack, can you build a small intestine”?  The femme countered.

Optimus was in the opinion that was a hilarious statement. He noticed Blackarachnia was by the far hallway. Keeping an admit distance from the humans and the Primes Team.

"Well, you can't work on these projects here," Ratchet objected "You're...making a mess”!

"But the science fair's a big part of our grade," Raf pipped up.

"Yeah," Miko agreed, "If Bulkhead doesn't help me finish this model of our solar system-"

"Oh”? Ratchet interrupted  "And what does Bulkhead know of your solar system, or Bumblebee of your volcanos or…"

"Arcee of our motorcycles”? Jack asked the medic.

"Precisely”! The medic agreed "we're not earthlings and they're not scientists”

"But they are their guardians, Ratchet," the other Prime said "Would it not hurt to learn more of Earth by helping our young friends with their schoolwork”?

Sentinel gave an irritated huff as he quietly whispered “They wouldn’t have too if we prioritized finding a way off this mud rock”

"Well, maybe our young friends should try learning more of Cybertron” muttered Ratchet.

Optimus made an amused chuckle before approaching the smallest human Raf and Bumblebee who was trying and failing to reform their volcano.

“This is an interesting project” said Optimus, kneeling to be closer to the boy.

“My favorite kind” said Raf “It’s a little old school but its still really cool! The teachers said 

“Did your human teacher give you this assignment or did your Tutor-Bot”? asked Optimus

This made Raf snort in laughter “Tutor Bot”?!

Optimus felt his face heat up but gave his own awkward laugh “So human teacher then”?

<Most here are> said Bumblebee

“That's right” commented Raf.

The Prime felt silly forgetting that in this different universe the humans technology was even less advanced than the humans from Detroit 2101. And that was saying something!

That's when Optimus realized something “Raf…you can understand what hes saying”

The boy gave a bashful look as he rubbed the back of his helm “Yeah, its basically like a code right”

“That's very impressive”! Optimus praised “It took me a few cyberweeks in the academy to figure it out”

<If I may ask> said Bumblebee <How long were you in the academy>?

Optimus faltered “Um, 3 stellar cycles” he finally said “I-I didn’t really finish my education but was still granted the title of Prime”

Ratchet looked at him suddenly, as did many of the other bots “You were granted…”?

“Ha! More like he flunked out”! Sentinel chortled, Optimus turned to see him standing nearby “Never made it to graduation and the only work he could get was as some maintenance bot despite getting the title of Prime, unlike yours truly” he finished off with a confident tilt of his head

Optimus didn’t stop a hateful glare at Sentinel, he had hoped that the mech would try to remain civil to the other bots and to him. But it seemed he was falling back on his “sparkling” personality, either on account of the stress of the situation or his frustration of the unclear way they were going to get back home.

Or a combination of both.

“Oh, and you made it through on good grades and big ideas”? said Blackarachnia from her darkened corner, her comment made Sentinel flinch.

“Why don’t you stay out of this”!

Blackarachnia narrowed her optics, meeting Sentinels stare.

Optimus could only look on as not only The Prime team watched this silent clash but the humans looked as well.

“Jeez, and I come here to get away from highschool drama” he heard Miko mumble while Bulkhead hushed her.

<Nothing wrong with not finishing academy> Bumblebee buzzed <I never finished my training, the war progressed pretty fast and we needed more soldiers so I was drafted early as a scout instead of waiting to be in warrior class>

“I see” Optimus commented, he was a bit amazed realizing how young this version of Bumblebee was still.

This Bumblebee was about his age, but was years above him in training and obvious experience. Yet he was still a scout?

 "Really Bumblebee? Then how do you make warrior class”? Raf spoke up “But I've seen you in action, you're awesome”!

Bumblebee then buzzed in his thanks.

 The larger version of Optimus spoke up as he placed a hand on the yellow mechs shoulder, "I second your opinion, Raf” he said “But Autobot life cycles are much longer than those of humans and though it may be are you believe, our young scout still has much to experience” the larger mech than turned his head slightly to look at Optimus and his companions “And that could be something extended to many of us here”

Comically Sentinel and Blackarachnia both shared dubious stares.

Suddenly the main computer started blaring an alarm.

 "Exposed energon, and it's on the move”! Ratchet said, making Optimus tense at his urgency. 

"And since we ain't moving it, guess who must be" Bulkhead added

"Decepticons,”  Arcee said, optics narrowing.

"Without Megatron?" Miko asked.

"Unfortunately, Megatron's legacy will live on as others rise to take his place” said the other Optimus “Autobots, you have projects to complete, Ratchet, with me as I may require aid”

Ratchet looks at Raf's volcano, "Science fair is a big part of their grade. Perhaps I'm better suited to remain here and advise”

"Very well," Optimus said, and looked towards his scout, "Bumblebee, let us see about this energon in transit."

“Wait, what”? Optimus voiced for once.

Everyone turned to look at him “Do you have objections to our actions” said his other self. His voice wasn’t accusing or even offended, just curious. Which almost made Optimus feel bad about speaking out but he had to state his opinion.

“You're only bringing yourself and a scout to confront the Decepticons, especially when one of them is Starscream”? He asked “Are, are you sure thats…plausible”?

He flinched at the incredulous expressions and the almost betrayed whirl that came from Bumblebee.

But still it felt almost…ridiculous…to leave half his soldiers to assist in human children's school work while only bringing himself and one mech, even if it wasn’t Bumblebee.

“What? So you're volunteering to go with him”? Asked Arcee

Before Optimus could speak up, Sentinel instead beat him to it.

“Why of course! Why shouldn’t we”?!!

“Don’t you remember our agreement” the femme asked “Its been less than a solar-cycle, we still need to make sure your trustworthy enough to be trusted outside the base”

“Your still going on about us being, Decepticons”! Sentinel said flabbergasted “Were not…except one of us”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re keeping an eye on your Insecticon too” Arcee said dismissively/

Insecticon?

Optimus couldn’t help but wonder at that word, but stopped his musing to take the time to speak up.

“Again, I’m not trying to undermine your decision, I simply ask if you're really confident to only bring yourself and a scout against what could be an army of Decepticons and led by Starscream of all mechs”? Optimus kept his voice even, respectful, but all so questioning. Silently urging them to please consider thinking of bringing some of the others.

“Huh” He heard Bulkhead chuckle “Listen little guy, Optimus and I mean OUR Optimus has been kicking Con tail-plate long before any of us” he said “So I think he knows what he's doing”

The Prime couldn’t help feel his faceplates warm up to being called “Little guy”, mercy was that Sentinel didn’t see that as an invitation to jump into the jibbing.

“Our visitor has a valid point” said the other version of him, the bigger version, with an admonishing tone in his voice that made Optimus guiltily satisfied before he looked at him “And while I understand your concern, I promise you I don’t take decisions lightly with our enemies…more so with our allies” he continued “Me and Bumblebee will be leaving through the groundbridge, and if there’s any danger we will call upon back-up support”

“Without us” grumbled Sentinel

“Yes! The new guys get to hang around longer! Miko said, throwing her hands up in victory, sending paint flying. Optimus felt his former friend shudder beside him..

With everything seemingly resolved, the rest of the team stepped aside with the children as Ratchet went over to the computer to set up this “ground bridge”. Optimus, who had much experience with Space-Bridges could recognize the technology set up but also how much of it was integrated with human technology. Guess the mechs from this world weren't kidding that they had very little technology to spar from their resources.

In either case while Optimus was familiar with Space-Bridge technology, groundbridge technology still was such a strange and new concept. The large-scale act of Space-Bridging, which allowed you to travel across space and galaxies, was somehow able to be condensed into only one planet travel.

It was fascinating and he was sure Bulkhead, His Bulkhead, would have enjoyed this…or even Blackarachnia?

He looked to the femme who was unconsciously toeing towards the control panel, maybe attempting to get a better look. Though she shied away when Ratchet turned to glare at her.

Soon enough the machine whirled to life creating a blue shimmering light.

“Be careful” Ratchet said, a tender look shrouding him.

“Will do, old friend” said Optimus while Bumblebee let out his own well wishes.

The pair transformed into their vehicle modes, with the other Optimus transforming into a hulking large truck with a massive trailer firmly attached behind him. Great…something else Optimus can feel self-conscious about. 

The pair left through the gate and the light faded with just a press by Ratchet.

“So you met actual dinosaurs”! Asked Raf, who had been busy pasting on paper to his project.

Optimus chuckled “Well not actual dinosaurs, but like you, the father of my friend created replicas of the creatures from the cretaceous period in order to educate others” he explained “Only using advanced robotics instead of…” he looked to the pale slime in a bowl by the human.

“Paper-mache” answered Raf

“Maybe your friend's father had the right idea” said Ratchet “Obviously this material isn't suitable for the high powered explosion you want, but this-” the medic held up some scrap metal and transformed his hand to reveal a sparking welder “-should do just nicely”!

The almost manic grin on the medic's face made Optimus blink in surprise, never would have expected such a look from his own Ratchet.

“Eh, should we be worried”? He heard Bulkhead mumble.

Optimus looked at the others, he guessed that this attitude caught them off guard as well. 

But that is when Optimus noticed something, that being the absence of both of his companions. One may not have raised much suspicion, given they may have opted to keep some distance from the humans and group of bots. 

But both Sentinel and Blackarachnia, gone? Together?

That spelled trouble.

So Optimus quietly stepped away as Ratchet huffed over the other children's projects. He hoped to find them down the hall or near their assigned quarters…but no.

Optimus could feel his spark race in anxiety, finally going towards the part if the base with the mist consoles he heard the familiar lull of machinery from the Groundbridge.

The Prime speed over only to see Blackarachnia behind the controls with a mean smile and Sentinel transforming and driving into the vortex 

“NO”! Optimus yelled, but Sentinel didn't hear or didn't care.

Or both.

“Where did you send him”?! Optimus demanded

Blackarachnia shrugged “Just where they dropped that alpha version of you and that squeaky scout” 

She laughed as Optimus growled “Relax, soldier boy should be in good hands”

The mech didn't dignify her with an answer and simply transformed, driving into the portal.

The last image was of Blackarachnia giving him a flirty kiss goodbye.

[crmsnmth]

On the Edge of the Bed

I sat, half-naked on the edge of a bed owned by a woman who's name I forgot as soon as she said it This wasn't about making new friends I just can't stand the accusing judgement that lives within the deafening silence But this isn't nearly as helpful when I'm sober

My face is buried in my hands while my elbows push pressure into my legs I can't feel the rush of adrenaline that grabs my hands during sex with strangers instead all I can feel is disgusted the smell of sweat and cigarettes almost makes me gag

My eyes are wet Right on the verge of opening the dam letting the lake finally burst it won't be long until the river banks repeat the show I keep that flood quietly within me The roar of shameful tears

This is not the place I thought would call for reflection but here I sit, listening to the rhythmic breathing behind Under sheets the color of the sky The sweat as all but dried from her brow I can still taste the salt from your lips And I desperatly want the taste to leave my tongue and so I light the sixth cigarette I've had in the past hour

I don't know what I'm supposed to do And I find myself thinking of morals I had abandoned I purged everything I was and now I hate what I've created I've got no real plan, and I don't have a way out of this Even without walls, this is all a labyrinth And I still can't find my way out of here This is my life, I'll ruin it how I want to.

I'm having an epiphany And she lies sleeping peacefully behind me

[littlelostmabari]

Day 22: Templar

Characters: Carver Hawke, Cullen Rutherford

Word Count: 1k

CW: Lyrium, initiation, brief references to bodily fluids

A/N: Carver and Bethany are alive in One of the Good Ones, Carver joined when Bethany was taken. I wanted to explore what his vigil might have been like, knowing how much rage Carver had in Kirkwall.

The candle was quickly burning out, but he wasn't quite through this recitation of Transfigurations. A lay brother or sister, dressed in dark and nondescript clothes as not to distract his eyes slid into the room behind him to replace it. They murmured a small prayer as the flame flit from the melted one to the fresh wick.

My Maker, know my heart: Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride.

It was the sixth time he'd repeated this verse, because it was the only one he could reliably remember. The others took longer to recall, which meant his mind seemed to wander away from the candle to topics that this vigil was meant to wash from him. Instead, his lips moved over words the same words he had been praying since he was a child.

A memory burbled up. He tried to let the fire burn it away, focusing on the first droplet of wax as it dribbled down the side and solidified a third of the way down it's length. Unfortunately it grew and grew and grew until he could feel the warm breeze across his face and heard the laughter of his sisters as his father chased them around the great tree in front of their house pretending to be a monster. He palmed the wooden sword in his hand, and pointed it at his father and crowed a warning with a grin on his face. His father turned and mimicked a wound, falling to the ground and moving only when the children piled on top.

His mother called his name, and when he turned and saw her silver hair and the wrinkles at the edge of her eyes and it was sandstone behind her instead of wood and the great tree and the grasses of the place that used to be their home… Then he was in the stone and plaster room where his vigil took place, and he had been distracted from the candle and Transfigurations. "My… My Creator…"

My Creator, judge me whole: Find me well within Your grace. Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. Tell me I have sung to Your approval.

His sister, younger than him by an hour, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and told him it would all be okay as the candle passed the quarter mark. She held him as he watched the men in steel and red cloth take her by the elbow and force her to her knees. She held him as he watched them squeeze her fate around her wrists as chains of lyrium, and she held him as she did not cry like their mother did and like he desperately tried not to.

Their mother cried harder when he packed a bag of only the essentials and screeched at her that he would never let his family be alone in that Circle. He cursed at his older sister as she arrived just in time from her adventures to see their family torn apart and permanently affixed to the city she had brought them to. He spat that she had made her choice when she chose that dwarf instead of her family.

The rage of that memory was too fresh, it built in him until he was burning with the same fire that he had wished on his older sibling, and suddenly it was gone in a wash of purged magic. He seized, breath shoved out of his lungs as they were crushed against his spine with the strength of the Maker and his Light.

He had not eaten in twenty-four hours, so the contents that he spit up onto the stone floor at the base of Andraste's feet was nothing but bile and acid. He coughed through it, shaking and digging his fingertips into the carpet under his knees. When he finally felt strong enough to sit up, he looked up into the eyes of the Knight-Captain who stood over him with his lips pursed into a tight line.

"The vigil is a delicate thing, recruit. During this moment, you are as susceptible to possession as a novice mage." The Knight-Captain stepped back into his watch position. "I do not know what drove you to such rage, but do not lose yourself to emotion again."

The recruit pressed himself back into a kneeling position, sitting back on his feet and ignoring the spot of his embarrassment and failure on the floor that he knew that lay-person would need to clean later.

O Maker, hear my cry: Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory. And let the world once more see Your favor.

He did not know how much time passed between his indiscretion and the ungloved hand landing on his shoulder. He looked up into the face of the man who had watched him all day and all night, and his mind was so empty that he hardly recognized the face that had chastised him before.

A vial was pressed to his lips, and he drank.

The blue tasted of syrup and herbs and something that he could only describe as a blanket made of a sorrowful lullaby. It was thick and thin, blue and clear, sweet and bitter, and he knew in that moment that there was no life without it. It was the light that swallowed his entire world.

The Knight-Captain lowered the man in his care to the ground gently, and held him as he seized so his head would not strike against the cold stone. The boy's body shook and the scream it wanted to make was stifled into a groan. When he finally settled, the Knight-Captain lay his head on the carpet and rose to open the door.

"Ser Barnier. Ser De Mora. Take your new brother to the infirmary."

He watched the Knights take the boy out of the room with the gentleness they received at their vigil years ago. He glanced back at the room with its fourteen burnt out candles and the evidence of the grueling process of rending a soul from it's shell and preparing it for what came next.

"Welcome to the Order, Ser Hawke."

For You are the fire at the heart of the world, And comfort is only Yours to give.

[vodika-vibes]

The Sentinel

Summary: After surviving the Purge, you fled to Takodana to rest and recover. And after Maz kicked you out of your depression (literally) you ending up working for a Trandoshan named Cid for Maz. And through her you met what used to be Clone Force 99.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x Jedi!Reader

Word Count: 2807

Warnings: Mentions of Suicidal ideation (Reader was a sentinel who was at the temple when the Purge happened and she blames herself for what happened)

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I had an idea, and I wanted/needed to put it down. I'm not sure if I have Hunter's personality down, but I hope I didn't butcher him too badly. So if anyone has any comments as to that, it would be greatly appreciated.

Hunter is staring at you.

Again.

You know it. You can feel the way his gaze is drilling into the back of your head.

Honestly, the fact that he’s walking behind you, rather than in front of you, is something of a miracle in and of itself. Maybe that’s why he’s glaring at the back of your head.

Whatever, you’re not a jedi, it’s not like you’re able to read his mind to know what’s bothering him.

(You are. You were. When you think too hard you can remember the scent of blood filling the halls of the temple, and the burning, searing, unending pain that is Anakin Kriffing Skywalker cutting your arm off-)

“Hunter, will you stop glaring at me and just get up here, please?” You ask, cutting off the blood stained memories with an ease that would have worried you, if you thought about it for too long.

“You seemed more than happy to lead,” Hunter replies, his voice low and annoyed, as he steps next to you.

“I was happy to lead because I didn’t want to hear you bitching at me.” You counter with a roll of your eyes.

“Bitch-” He sputters and glares at you fully, “I wasn’t bitching at you. I was reminding you that you needed to pack an extra battery pack for your blaster-”

“Yes, because I’m an actual child and would have forgotten something so important.” You interrupt.

“You know, I’m starting to understand why you and Cid get along so well.” Hunter says through gritted teeth.

“It’s because we have such magnetic personalities.” You snip.

“It’s because you’re both massive-” He cuts himself off before he can finish the insult, “We shouldn’t be far from the rendezvous point,” Hunter says instead, “It’s probably best that the contact thinks that you’re in charge.”

“Thinks?”

He leans into your personal space, and if you hadn’t been a sentinel once upon a time, you might have been intimidated. “Thinks.” He repeats, and then he leans back, and motions for you to take the lead, “After you.”

You grind your teeth, and spin to continue down the man made path. Sometimes you wonder how Hunter would react to hearing that you were a Jedi. That you had survived the purge.

And then you remember that the men you’re traveling with are Clones, and you get a chill. You don’t trust them to not shoot you on sight if they knew. Even Cid isn’t aware of your former affiliations, since you don’t trust her to not sell you out to the first bounty hunter who threatens her.

“Relax. This is no different than any other mission,” Hunter says, his voice closer than you thought. And your skin prickles as anxiety blooms in your chest.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and arch a brow, sending a prayer to whatever entity listens to the prayers of a former jedi that he thinks your anxiety is about the mission and nothing more. 

“You’re tense, and anxious.” Hunter says, “Relax, or the contact will think something is wrong.”

Oh, he’s so much more annoying than Master Drallig ever was. And you used to wish death on your former master when he was at his most annoying.

You regret that now. You’d sell your left arm (not flesh one, not the metal one) to hear his annoyed drawl one more time.

You purse your lips, “Thank you, mother.” You say instead, “Any other pearls of wisdom?”

He smiles, it’s a nice smile, “Sometimes I want to throw you off a cliff.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes I want to throw myself off a cliff, so you’re not special.” You counter, perhaps a bit too honestly based on how his expression falters.

“You-”

“We’re going to be late,” You interrupt, as you start walking faster, “Keep up, Hunter.”

He falls into step slightly behind you, and you can feel his stare on the back of your head again. At least he’s not glaring anymore, you suppose.

“I don’t actually want to throw you off a cliff,” Hunter says suddenly, as the pair of you slow to approach the clearing where you’re supposed to meet your contact, “Maybe push you into a lake, but I don’t actually want to hurt you.”

“Not to worry, I’m sure I can get you to change your mind on that.” You pause just outside the clearing and change the subject, “You have the information for the trade, right?”

Hunter stares at you for a moment, but he accepts the topic change gracefully, “Of course I do.” He tilts his head, “I don’t hear anyone in the clearing though.”

“We are a little early,” You reply thoughtfully as you glance at the chrono embedded in your prosthetic. “By about half an hour.”

“We are,” Hunter agrees, his gaze flickers around the clearing, and then he focuses on you, “Which means we just have to wait.”

You hum to acknowledge his words. Something feels…wrong.

After the Purge, you tried to cut yourself off from the force. It just hurt too much, all the pain, all the darkness, all the death…but even as you did it, you knew that it was a fool’s hope.

The Force can’t be cut off anymore that you could cut off your eyes.

And ignoring a warning from the force is just cutting off your nose to spite your face.

You don’t sense any immediate danger, just a massive feeling of be cautious that you would be foolish to ignore. So, slowly you head into clearing, your gaze scanning from one side to the other.

There’s nothing.

Even Hunter, who’s the most cautious of the clones you’ve ever worked with, doesn’t seem to be terribly concerned. So, you push your concerns aside as paranoia.

45 minutes later, your contact finally arrives.

He’s a rather squirrely looking Rodian. He speaks quickly, and his hands flutter anxiously, as though he’s afraid that if he stays still for too long something terrible will happen. 

The deal happens smoothly, with you taking the lead on gathering the information that Cid needed, and trading your information. And your contact flees from the clearing as quickly as he arrived.

“He was certainly nervous,” Hunter says slowly, his nose scrunched as though he smelled something disgusting. 

“Well, information broking isn’t exactly legal in this day and age,” You offer as an explanation, “I mean, it wasn’t legal in the time of the Republic either-”

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad he’s gone. He smelled awful.” Hunter grumbles as he rubs his nose, “Ugh, so bad. I don’t suppose you have any of your perfume on you, at least that smells good.”

You shoot him an odd look, “I don’t wear perfume. I don’t wear scented anything since I’m working with you.”

He pauses, and it must be a trick of the light, because you swear his face darkens slightly, “That’s…kind of you.”

“Not wanting to send you into sensory overload isn’t kind, Hunter. It’s literally the least I can do.” You fold your arms over your chest, the feeling of danger was still there.

“Well, I appreciate it all the same.” Hunter says, “You don’t seem like the type who would care.”

“Rude-” You stop mid-sentence as the force screams a warning, and you move, lunging forward and tackling Hunter out of harm's way, just as a gunship riddles the clearing with gunfire.

The pair of you tumble behind a large rock, and duck down for cover as the gunfire continues.

“Kriff,” Hunter ducks his head, “Who the hell is shooting at us?” He glances at you, and his expression sours when he sees you pulling a pastel pink compact out of one of your many pockets, “Seriously?”

“Shut up, it has a mirror.” You flick it open and lift it slightly, angling the mirror so you’re able to see the reflection, “And no one thinks twice about women carrying make-up.” You adjust the way your holding the compact slightly, “Karking hell,” You swear, “It’s Imperial.”

“What?” Hunter snatched the mirror from your hand, ignoring your indignant noise, and he lifts it to look for himself. “...kriff.”

“I told you,” You grouse, as you take the compact back and shove it back into your pocket.

“Now is not the time.” Hunter replies irritably, he looks around, “We can’t outrun them. Not with them in a gunship.”

You lean your head back against the boulder, “We can jump.”

“What?”

You point to the side, “You said you wanted to throw me off a cliff, right?” 

“I didn’t mean it!” He snaps, “That will kill us as surely as the gunship.”

“No,” You sigh, “Hunter, there’s a river at the bottom, fast moving, but that works out in our favor.”

“Right, except we’ll either be killed by the gunship before we can jump, or hitting the water will kill us.” Hunter counters.

“It won’t.” You say, quietly, firmly.

He stares at you, silently. 

You’re calm, deadly calm. You were a sentinel once. You protected people for a living. You failed last time. You won’t fail this time. “I need you to trust me…and not shoot me in the back.”

“Why would I shoot you in the-” He stops, his gaze dropping to your hands, where a slender metal tube rests innocently, “You’re a Jedi.”

“Like I said, please don’t shoot me in the back, and I’ll get us out of this alive.” You say.

Hunter says nothing for a moment, the clearing filled with nothing but the sound of blaster fire, and then he nods slowly, “What do you need me to do?”

“So long as they’re not using ballistic rounds, I can get you to the edge, you just need to jump and trust me.” You say.

He glances at the saber again, “Alright. You give the word.”

You exhale slowly and twirl your saber between confident fingers. Your master’s words echo in your mind as you adjust your weight. You are a sentinel. You are the last line of defense between those who would hurt and those who would be hurt. You will not falter. You will not hesitate. Trust in the force, and all will be well.

And you move.

A yellow blade crackles to life, and you spin it expertly.

Hunter ducks out behind you, and you cover him as he runs the short distance to the cliff. You’re aware of him jumping, and you jump after him, twisting the force around you both in a protective shell just before you hit the water.

Hunter drags you up so your head is above the water, which you’ll be grateful for when you’re not distracted keeping the part of you from getting battered to pieces by the rocks in the water.

The pair of you remain in the water for 30 minutes, until you manage to use the force to propel you both onto the shore, near a small cave. Hunter has to half carry you to the cave, you were far more careful with his well-being than you were with your own, and you painfully sink onto a rock as he starts a fire using some sticks and grass he found near the river.

“Are you hurt?” Hunter asks, as he crouches in front of you.

“Bruised and battered, but I wasn’t shot,” You reply.

He looks surprised, and then annoyed, as if he’s just realizing why he wasn’t hurt, “I wasn’t battered at all.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

He pauses, and then sighs, “Thank you. For saving us and for keeping me from getting hurt.”

You smile at him weakly and lean against the wall, “Well, it definitely went better than the last time I used my saber, that’s for sure.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything for a moment, “Can I ask-?”

“I was a Sentinel.” You answer his unasked question, “My job was to guard the temple. I did a bang up job, as I’m sure you can tell.” Your smile is slightly bitter as you tap your metal arm.

“The Purge wasn’t your fault.” Hunter offers, though there’s something in his tone that suggests that he knows that his words aren’t much comfort. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“Oh, I know.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

“Would you?” Your smile becomes something bitter, “I spent the first couple of weeks after the Purge on Takodana healing and trying to cut myself off from the force. And Maz…well, she shoved a boot up my backside, and hired me.”

Hunter sits across from you, “Suddenly so much about your personality makes sense. You must have been terrified to learn that you were working with clones.”

“A bit. I figured if you didn’t think I was a jedi, I would be safe.” You sigh, “I didn’t expect Maz to just let Cid have me for as long as she did.”

Hunter leans back against the wall as well, “If you want, I’ll tell Cid that we can’t work together. You’ll never have to see us again, if you don’t want.”

“Don’t worry about it. I actually like you and your brothers.”

Hunter lifts his head and smirks at you, “Yeah?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You say wryly.

“Too late.” He lifts one knee and drapes an arm across it, “So, a follow up. If you want, you can join the crew of the Marauder. It’s only a matter of time before it comes out, you being a jedi. And Omega adores you.”

“What, just Omega?” You ask wryly, “Mister you like the way I smell.”

“Right, I was hoping you forgot about that.” Hunter mutters under his breath.

“Nope.”

“Fine. You smell amazing. It’s soothing. I also like the way you look, and I really like how pouty your lips are, especially when you’re wearing that bright red lipstick.”

“...you spend a lot of time looking at me.”

“Yes, yes I do.” He doesn’t sound the least bit ashamed about it either. “A lot more than you probably realize.” You stare at him, and he grins, “I like walking behind you. You have very nice…hips.”

“Right, I’m sure it’s my hips you admire.”

His grin widens, “You think it’s safe for the Marauder to come and get us now?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Yeah, probably.”

“Great. I’ll call them,” Hunter pulls out his comm and connects to the Marauder, and you hear Tech answer. You’re vaguely aware of Hunter giving Tech his coordinates, and giving a very brief rundown on what happened, but you’re not totally listening.

Instead you dig into one of your pockets, and pull your waterproof makeup kit out, pulling your lipstick out to apply more.

You hear Hunter stumble over his words for a moment as you apply the vibrant red lip paint, and you glance at him, and see that his gaze is locked on your lips. 

You don’t bother to hide your slightly smug grin, as you put your make-up away, and then you walk over to him to peek at his comm. Voice only, probably so his brothers don’t worry when they see him looking like a drowned tooka.

Hunter glances at you, and then to your lips, and then he focuses his attention on the comm again, “So, do you have our coordinates?” He asks the comm.

“I am looking, you appear to be in a ravine of some sort.” Tech says, his voice tinny over the comm.

“Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. Can you find us, or do we need to get higher?”

“Hm…a higher elevation would make this easier.” Tech says, but Hunter’s not listening, on account of the fact that you’ve just pulled him down into a kiss. He drops his comm as he presses his hand against the back of your neck, and you quickly catch it before it hits the ground. “Hunter? Hunter, are you still there?”

“I…uh…” Hunter blinks at you, a little hazy, and you smile up at him innocently as you press his comm back into his hands, “Yes. Yes, I’m here.”

“What happened? Did you hear what I said?”

“I…yeah. Yeah, I heard you. You need us to get higher.”

“Yes. Do that and then call back and I should be able to find you.”

“Right. Thanks Tech.” Hunter hangs up the comm, without taking his eyes off of you. “You’re trouble.”

You flash a downright angelic smile, “I thought you liked trouble?”

“Oh, I like this kind of trouble.” Hunter breathes out.

You hum, and lightly tap his lips with your finger, “Oh, good.” You stand on your toes so your lips are hovering just over his, “We should get climbing, Hunter. So Tech can find us.”

He groans, “You’re such a tease.”

You throw a grin over your shoulder, “I thought you liked it.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to complain.”

[knightprincess]

Forgive Me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 19

Words: 2K Warnings: None - Does mention Clone Rebellion Pronouns used: She/Her - (Y/N) and (Y/L/N) also used

"Calm yourself, Echo," called Rex as he put the freighter he shared with the Arc Trooper and Gregor on autopilot. "Wolffe won't let anything happen to her, whether they're together or not," added the great captain, swiveling the pilot's chair around to face his companions, noticing Gregor seemed preoccupied with something. 

"She's with him," confidently replied Gregor, throwing his feet on the dashboard as he leaned back and relaxed a little more, a grin appearing across his lips mere moments later. "Didn't you hear?" asked the Commando, not wording he'd recognize Snap's giggle anywhere, especially when he purposely wound up Wolffe. 

"How do you know it was (Y/N) and not some civvie Wolffe picked up?" asked Echo, almost as if he assumed Wolffe was similar to Fives and Jesse, even Gregor himself, when it comes to the charm and ladies. His question only served to amuse Gregor, who loudly laughed while Rex shook his head as if trying to rid himself of unwanted mental images. 

"Wolffe ..." started Rex with a sigh before stopping, almost as if he searched for the right words. "He doesn't trust those outside of his circle, especially civvies..." continued the great captain, recalling the times in 79's when Wolffe had been somewhat relaxed but still on guard. "After the judgment and fear he received because of his eye, he grew colder to outsiders," explained Rex, trying to word the explanation in the kindest ways possible, determined not to offend the Commander even if he wasn't there. 

"Upon my return from The Void, I was assigned as her protector alongside Gruffles; I'd recognize her laughter anywhere," answered Gregor, once again nicknaming Wolffe, similar to how he'd nicknamed others around him based on their personality and his knowledge of them. "Plus, we have Cody's account; that has to count for something," he added, returning his gaze to the ordinary colors of hyperspace, almost welcoming the distraction despite knowing it wouldn't last long. 

"You'll see her soon enough. I'm sure Snap will be just as thrilled to see you as you are for her," spoke Rex, changing the subject to the impending reunion once more, almost seeing the irony. The scenario was almost an exact repeat of before, except now it was just Rex himself and Gregor instead of Clone Force 99, General Skywalker, and Rex. Instead of returning to a military base of operations on Anaxes, Snap is within the ranks of the GAR, serving with the 501st. Now, she was touring the length of the galaxy with Wolffe, hiding from the empire and their unknown desires and motivations. 

"I'll tell her about her family," voiced Gregor, seemingly lost in the swirls of hyperspace, although it was clear he was thinking of an impending reunion too. Rex and Echo glanced at each other, both still debating if it was a good idea to tell her Devika was the only family she truly had left. Octavius and Isolde had both been killed at the end of the war, and (Y/N)'s parents and other immediate family members had been killed not long after for one reason or another. Her parents vocally protested what happened at the Military Base. The others for trying to protect both Snap and Devika. "Good idea or not, Snap deserves to know the truth. It's better it comes from someone she trusts than allowing the imps to weaponize it." 

"Where is Devika now?" asked Echo, recalling the younger woman with a love for politics. Despite everything, she stood as a fighter for Clone Rights alongside senators Chuchi, Organa, and Mon Mathma. "I don't recall seeing her around the senate building," added the Arc Trooper, concern beginning to flood his voice, even more so when Omega had mentioned some she'd met when with Riyo. 

"The Queen of Naboo extended an invitation to her, she's been helping survives of the purge get away and hide" replied Rex, recalling briefly meeting the young politician when on Naboo before, at first he thought she was (Y/N), the two being almost identical. "The queen keeps her protected until the times right for her to return to the Senate, likely as a fully-fledged senator," added the great captain, hearing Gregor chuckle, noticing something few others seemed to recognize. 

"I wonder if they did that on purpose?" questioned Gregor, purposely being vague with his line of thought. Another chuckle fled his lips mere moments later upon glancing at Echo and Rex, seeing the confusion written across their features. "Snap and Wolffe running across the galaxy is distracting the imps to the point they haven't even realized Devika is probably the bigger threat. One refuses to give the empire what they want out of sheer stubbornness, and the other is basically building a rebellion," explained the Commando, seeing the irony in the situation. Almost as if the (Y/L/N) sisters had used the divide and conquer tactic against the empire. 

"If that was planned, they're doing a good job at it," replied Echo, a proud grin coming to his lips, even more so when their plan seemed to be working. "Tech would be proud," laughed the Arc Trooper, thinking of how Tech and the rest of the Bad Batch would respond. 

"So would the rest of the boys," added Rex, knowing all their brothers would be proud of what the (Y/L/N) sisters had managed to do, even if it was unintentional. "And General Skywalker," he added, thinking of the unorthodox Jedi Knight he'd served under for the entirety of the war. Deep down, Rex liked to think the General would be pleased his creative thinking had rubbed off the civvie medic and the senator. "I think Senator Amidala would be proud too; I'm sure if she was still here, she'd be doing as Devika is now," sorrowfully added Rex, sadness glimmering in his eyes to think of all those lost at the end of the war for various reasons. 

"Speaking of planned things," started Gregor, pulling his feet from the dashboard, being careful not to catch any buttons and leavers. "How do you plan to sway old Wolffee to join your rebellion?" curiously worded the Commando, suspecting it would be no easy feat to convince the Commander to join the ranks of the growing clone rebellion. "And the rest of Clone Force 99?" he added with haste, suspecting Rex had a plan to convince the three remaining lads of the Bad Batch to join them. 

"Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker have Omega to think about; her safety is the number one priority for them," voiced Rex, acknowledging in order for the rest of the bad batch to fight, they would have to be sure Omega would be protected. "As for Wolffe, it shouldn't be much trouble; convincing Snap will be far harder," he replied, knowing the plan Cody had thought of would certainly help, but it relied on (Y/N) and put her in more danger than she was already in. It involved putting her into the heart of the empire's secret goings-on. 

"Convince Snap of what?" asked Echo, quickly deciphering he wasn't going to like the answer. Still, he pushed the growing fear and judgment of the situation aside to listen with a clear mind. Rex could only sigh, whereas Gregor clearly displayed his disagreement with Cody's plan; even if it would help them, he was still insistent it wasn't worth the risk. 

"Before Cody went looking for General Kenobi, he shared a plan with Rex. It would help with the rebellion and freeing our brothers, but it will also put (Y/N) in the heart of all the danger," worded Gregor, displeasure dripping from his normally smooth voice as he slumped back into the co-pilot chair he'd occupied as if protesting against the idea once again. 

"We know clones within the imperial ranks and prisons are disappearing. They're transferred to a secret facility somewhere and never heard from or mentioned again. Cody theorized they were doing experiments on them, he'd heard whispers of a top secret project, Death or Dark Troopers" wearily began Rex as if he was doubting his own judgement for agreeing with the idea in the first place. It was dangerous, and (Y/N) was no soldier, "Snap was supposed to be transferred to the Advanced Science Division when the war ended, but Wolffe, with help from Fox, got to her first. The Science Division is also involved in the disappearances; at first, I thought it was a coincidence, but the more time that passes, the more I believe whoever runs the division had a purpose for wanting (Y/N)," added Rex, sighing as the truth was slowly dawning on him, why the empire wanted to send Snap to such as place. 

"To use her as a weapon against us," voiced Gregor, pointing out the obvious answer as well as displaying his disagreement with practically handing Snap to the Science Division on a silver platter. "We clones are loyal to her. We're her army. Who better to use against us?" added the Commando, thinking like the enemy to come to the only logical answer there was. Snap wasn't going to join the empire willingly; the imperials knew it, so her purpose was to be a tool, leverage to force clones to do what the imperials wanted. 

"I agree with Gregor," stated Echo, not willing to put Snap in danger, especially if there was another way to get what they needed without taking such a risk. "I know (Y/N) would be willing to do this, especially if it meant furthering something she believed in, but I couldn't bear it if she were hurt or killed. I almost lost her once; I can't take that risk knowing this time she might not come back," added the Arc Trooper for once, listening to his heart rather than his head. Finally, he admitted how it felt being parted from Snap for almost a year, how it felt like he had lost her. He'd already mourned what could have been had the war ended differently, mourned the life he could have shared with her. He didn't want to go through the grief of actually losing her, as he had done with so many brothers, as he had done with Fives and Jesse, and so many others.

"Told you," victoriously spoke Gregor. "Old Wolffee isn't gonna be a walk in the park either."  

"And if Snap agrees to the plan?" asked Rex, knowing the opinions of his brothers mattered, but so did (Y/N)'s. What would they do if she agreed to do as Cody suggested? What would any of them do if she willingly joined the Advanced Science Division as a mole? "I know Wolffe would protest, but he'd also do what he could to protect her, even if that meant telling her she's an idiot," added the great Captain, recognizing the danger and Wolffe protesting. After all, protecting Snap was the only duty Wolffe likely felt he had left; there was little doubt the Commander wouldn't be so quick to let it go, especially if he were aware the civvie medic still needed him as much as he needed her. 

"I would reluctantly agree. I know better than to argue back with her," quietly replied Gregor, as if he were a cadet again being scolded on Kamino. After all, he was well aware it was pointless trying to convince Snap not to do something, especially if she'd already made her mind up about it. "I'd do everything in my power to make sure she's as safe as possible and has the support needed to complete her mission." 

"I would say try and convince her otherwise, but I know she's more stubborn than a Rancor at feeding time," commented Echo, knowing his Civvie Medic could be far more determined and stubborn than the best of soldiers. She could be more savvy than the politicians in the Senate if she had to be, and she was as fearless as the Jedi once were. But that didn't mean he wasn't afraid of losing her; they'd both survived one war, but there was no guarantee they would survive another; the Empire was far crueler than both the republic and the separatists combined, cold and ruthless when it came to dealing with their enemies. 

Series Masterlist

[septembersghost]

is it morally acceptable to send bcs asks in this day and age? because I am still haunted by fun and games -> waterworks kim. like her breakup was empathetic and loving but then we are punished with a scene where she looks directly at the camera and says “he is not a good person”. Feel like it was to increase the “dramatic twist” of his confession (same vibes as a workaholic finally showing up to his son’s baseball game at the end of a movie)

if it is morally unacceptable, then i encourage the sin.

you know what haunts me about this? probably repeating myself or saying things i've already expressed to you, but it reads as such a specifically female narrative punishment, such a glaring swerve for her characterization - the need to make her prostrate, make her surrender everything she has, cherishes, and has accomplished, but that isn't enough. she has to become the moral equivocator, thrust into a world that is suddenly stark black and white (this symbolism was not subtle), taken from her wonderfully fascinating complicity in a world of thoughtful, graded color into the sole person who knows the true man behind the facade, loves and abets him, and then must rebuke and renounce him in order to begin the purging of her trangressions.

she also has to serve as the catalyst for his final descent, a decision that, instead of being the slow transformation it once was, a persona worn as a suit, becomes a melodramatic gunshot into gaudy hollowed existence due to her abandonment/absence. it's the contrary of so much of what they built, so much of why she was unique and had agency of her own, she dissolves into a symbol behind the existence of saul, the bottle topper at the back of a drawer. nearly silent, exiled, stripped of true identity and achievement. (don't get me started on florida man, nobody wants to hear me lose it over that again.)

it's just a discomfiting choice for this amazing character - a woman who, two episodes prior, pointed a gun at a total stranger if it meant saving this man. who used her intellect and tenacity so consistently. who knew and saw and accepted him wholly. it's not that she shouldn't face consequences, like it's not that jimmy shouldn't (despite my extreme dislike of the implications of how that played out too), it's the WAY it was executed. it's inorganic to everything we knew to be true - because it does serve that final dramatic twist more than it serves these characters and their relationship that we knew and loved so well.

[displacedarchon]

I'm a bit rambly and salty today and need to get this off my chest, so there's no obligation to read this post and such. Unless you're morbidly curious, I'm not yer mom, I won't stop you. :B But there was this question of the day on twitter recently that asked something like.... "What made you finally take the plunge and stick with 14?" But worded in like a... super positive, happy way. And it's a good question! And people had all these fun stories about trying to just appease a friend and then OOPS accidentally fully committed 10/10. But it got me thinking about my tumultuous relationship with 14, and I didn't want to bring the vibe down on twitter (that's a dangerous place to spill your guts half the time anyways) so. Yeehaw. To not get too spiraly, I'd been a FF fan in general for quite some time, but due to repeated trauma associated with it, by the first time 14 rolled in, I already had one foot out the door with engaging in FF stuff. I ended up not being able to run the game anyways, so that was that. But the time of ARR rolled out, I was 100% not in the mood for anything FF related. I'd either sold/donated/boxed up all of my FF merch and had no interest. (I tried to free trial it anyways, secretly, but it just didn't click.) When Stormblood was announced, I'd gotten a crumb of excitement because Red Mage was being put in the game. I fucking love Red Mage. So I went... "WELL. Maybe this time, cause fuck yeah Red Mage!?"

I was surrounded by 14 players, friends at the time (who had all been insisting I play 14), at a gaming store/hangout. Immediately, I was mocked and chewed out for liking Red Mage. They thought I was stupid for taking interest in the game now, because of the addition of that class, and that Red Mage was one of, if not THE dumbest and worst classes in the FF franchise. Like I was *mocked*. To my *FACE*. Needless to say, I didn't touch the game until 2018. Made another SE account (because the 1.0 and that ARR free trial account had both been nuked by SE when they were purging in active accounts or something?) And it was...? Sure was a thing. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I wanted people to stop pestering me to ditch other games and play 14 instead. I can't remember if SHB was out yet or not, not that that mattered, but I toddled around with the MSQ, until I hit that first dungeon. This was before Duty Support, so my options were to queue up and that was it. I wasn't impressed that dungeons were forced (this was around the time I was starting to get burnt out on doing dungeons in other games). And you know what's funny? queue times were atrocious, cause I was DPS. Did my friends, who gave me shit for not playing jump at the chance to party with me? No. Instead I got a mocking lecture for... "Well that's what you get for picking DPS." And they proceeded to twist my arm into rolling a healer or a take. And after awhile it became increasingly obvious they wanted me to roll healer because they wanted to turn me into their pocket healer. FUCK. THAT. So I gave up. (And subsequently either forgot the log in info for that account, or SE nuked it as well? I have no idea. I just remember it being 2018 because the game I have currently... has... the appearance data saved?? I don't understand it.) Fast forward to the end of 2021, and trauma and burnout have weakened me enough apparently to give it another go and people not shutting up about EW made me curious just enough. Made a new account (because I can't log into the one from 2018???), slowly slogged through it... and the only reason I was able to get past that original hump, was because of Duty Support being added in 6.1. Didn't need to sit in a queue, didn't have to listen to friends shit on me for being DPS. In fact, my friends didn't give two shits I was playing again and repeatedly forgot that I was. And then I hit another wall; Queue up for Good King Moogle Mog and not only was the wait, once again, atrocious, every time it'd pop most of the rest of the party would go "Oh HELL NO." Leave, and I'd be back in the queue. I tried to get help, I was met with "You're lying, 14 players don't do stuff like that." So, I stopped playing again for a bit. Eventually logged back in, saw where I was stuck, and suddenly one of my friends was now SUPER EXCITED I was playing, and not only did she blast me through King Moogle Mog and a bunch of MSQ after that, flew me to all the ARR aetherytes. Wanting to see more of Thancred, Y'shtola and Minfilia is what kept me going forward, and then when Aymeric showed up I was sold completely. Having the game put me in Novice Network helped with the loneliness a bit. But like. MAN. End of 2022 was when I finally resigned to "YEAH lol I guess I'm a regular player now." Though less so currently, since my processor is an Intel i5 and the minimum requirement is an i7, so I can't log in without COOKING my pc. Whomp whomp. --- Tumblr has word capped me or something hang on.