#leave! it! alone! leave it! fuck off from elpis!

[impossible-rat-babies]

probably bc it was less bothersome in ShB but the whole botanist/fisher studium quests are weird

[meowww-ffxiv]

I don’t know if Meowdred dragged Theodore along on the Aglaia raid?

After EW and after nearly dying apart (again) with no way to know the other made it they both agreed they needed a break from each other before worry and fear brimmed over to blame and anger. So Theodore went back to Ishgard to help his merchant sister finish setting up the Firmament, and Mordred dedicated his time to teaching the girl he took in.

And that was where they left off at the end of 5.0; Pandaemonium did happen for Mordred, but he went alone. Theodore couldn’t travel to the past anyway because he didn’t go with him to Elpis (he didn’t go with him to the First at all, I’ve decided).

Because if Theodore went to the First with Mordred their friendship would’ve been irrevocably fucked up since Theodore would have seen what the light was doing to Mordred and Mordred would have, could have, convinced him to just leave it alone. He knew he was going to die from it or probably a very close call, and he would’ve drafted Theodore as an accomplice to open a voidgate and dump himself into the 13th where that light could flood out and hopefully correct the balance. 🤡 And Theodore would’ve had to kill Mordred for it.

So Nah. Theodore made it to the Chasm 15 minutes late with Starbucks and Mordred was already gone,,, He was real MADDD about it but Feo Ul at least relayed their messages back and forth. And then he was EXTRA MAD about it when Mordred got back and told him what happened. And now the post-Endsinger bullshit.

Anyway. The Aglaia business. Probably not? Mordred would’ve felt bad. Or awkward.

But he wouldn’t have been able to find 23 other motherfuckers to challenge the gods with him. Instead he probably begged Feo Ul and they were like eh… How about I loan you my scepter and crown?

So maybe. Maybe Mordred fought them as a “primal” himself.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Febuwhump #4

Borderlands - #4 - Nightmares

*

Moxxi was unsurprised to hear the screaming in the middle of the night.

She did not go to wake him. Ember had warned her that he was frightened and violent when coming out of one of his many nightmares. It was cruel but safe to leave him to come out of it on his own. 

So Moxxi waited, sipping a glass of wine as she looked over reports for renovation costs, trying to ignore the gut-wrenching screams. They slowly died off, like they always did.

And like always, it was silent for a few minutes after. Then the door creaked open.

“Another one, sugar?” Moxxi asked, glancing up.

Timothy looked horrible. He’d removed his mask, his scarred face pale and clammy. His good eye was bloodshot and his hair was a mess, like he’d been pulling on it roughly. 

“Yea,” he muttered, his voice scratchy. “Another one. Drink?”

She grabbed the whiskey bottle and passed it to him. He uncapped it and took a swig straight from the bottle, collapsing into a chair.

She shouldn’t pry. He’d landed himself in this mess, and these were his consequences. 

But some part of her couldn’t help but pity him. He’d been so young and ignorant when he joined up with Jack; he never could’ve expected this to happen to him. He’d just thought he was going to be a body double for a programmer, not a body double for a homicidal maniac with a hero-complex.

“What are they about?” she asked finally.

His good eye glazed over as he trembled. “All of it. The branding. Elpis. The first time someone tried to murder me in here. The times they almost succeeded. My- My hand.” That was a fresh one. He rubbed absently at the bandaged stump, wincing as his fingers brushed over where his hand should be. 

“You should leave here, Timothy.” She didn’t say it unkindly.

“I don’t know what’s out there anymore,” he said. He took a long swig from the bottle. “Fuck, Moxxi, I look like Handsome Jack, but I’ve got none of the bizarre overconfidence. I’ve just got a lot of anxiety.”

She watched him drink from the bottle. He’d seemed alright when they found him- or, as alright as anyone in his position could be. But since rescuing him and clearing out the casino, he’d been spiraling downwards.

He’d started out with just a drink or two at night to help him sleep. Then it became another drink or two when the first ones didn’t work. Then it became drinking in the day. And now Moxxi couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than two hours without reaching for a bottle. 

She understood, she really did. He’d lived a terrifying, horrible existence for seven years, constantly running on adrenaline and thinking of nothing but survival. He didn’t have time to reflect on any of it because he was still in the thick of it.

But now Timothy was free. And he was realizing the price of that freedom.

He could no longer hide from the trauma he’d accrued over the years. He had nothing to occupy his mind away from those horrible thoughts and memories. 

They’d thought they’d saved him. But maybe he’d been too far beyond saving before they ever found him in this awful place.

“Timothy.” She put her hand on his arm, batted her lashes at him. He’d always been a sucker for her charm, in a way she’d found endearing instead of predictable. “Sugar, why not put that bottle down and put that mind to work. Help me work out these costs.” She moved her hand down his arm, slowly. “I could use the company.”

He looked torn for a moment, but then his eyes darted back towards his room. He stood up, taking the bottle with him.

“I need to- to be alone,” he stuttered out.

Hadn’t he been alone for long enough?

“Timothy-” she started.

“It’s the only way I can sleep,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Please don’t take it from me, Moxxi.”

“Oh, Timothy,” she said, eyeing him with pity. “It’s already taken you.”

He looked pained, but clutched the bottle in his only hand and miserably slunk off to go get wasted in a corner somewhere. Moxxi didn’t try to stop him this time.

Maybe when he was awake, he could find ways to distract himself. But at night, when the nightmares claimed him, they tore away at his fragile sanity. 

“Jack, you bastard,” Moxxi muttered with a sad sigh. “You ruined another good one. You always do.”

Jack may not have killed Timothy with his own hands. But by sticking him in the casino with the lockdown procedures lying in wait, he’d nailed Timothy’s coffin shut and left him to suffocate, alone and afraid in the dark with nothing but his own nightmares to keep him company.

[of-lawbringing]

@thehandsomeasshole​​ cont. from ☠.

     There was a form of silence that lingered from Nisha, it wasn’t fear, it was memorising the moment as it was. Only what felt like moments ago she had watched with amusement dancing in those honeyed eyes as Jack tore a life source from another before watching as the life drained from them. It wasn’t anything new to her, murder, whether it be by her own hands, or that of Handsome Jack as well. There was a mutual understanding, there always had been. From the very beginning when she had first been hired.

     Fear, it sank into the heart of many who knew of his name, yet, it didn’t put fear in her own heart. At first, she would have claimed nothing struck fear in her- her upbringing hadn’t been an easy one, and throughout her life, she took things head-on with no questions asked even when standing in the face of some gnarly looking creatures. No, it was a term of understanding, observing and simply knowing.  

     Crimson coloured fingers had pulled her from her thoughts, while her eyes slowly turned to make eye contact with his own. Even with dried blood to his fingertips, she could taste the iron that lingered on parts of her lips. The taste, divine. A taste that often lingered on her from countless bloodshed through multiple fights before Elpis, on Elpis and even afterwards.

     ❝I wouldn’t be too surprised if some dumb fuck tried that, your name alone challenges the people who live on this planet. And a few others. ❞ Names she wouldn’t bother mentioning, she still had an everlasting hatred for specific vault hunters, but that was a story for another day. Laughter bubbled from Nisha as she shook her head and waved her hand dismissively to his comment, ❝please, I’m not worried about you stealing my thunder, I’d more than happily watch you make a statement with some asshole. ❞  

     ❝Sap.❞ The statement was there, but the smirk on her face showed playfulness directed towards him. ❝In that case... maybe I’ll have to make more trips to see you since you’re busy running a company up there. I’m sure Lynchwood could handle a day without me, and if not, well the fuckers who decided to act out of line will be put in line.❞

     His question threw her off. Sentiment thoughts weren’t something that often crossed her mind, given the fact she kept her bloodlust on to drown out any thoughts she could have. ❝You feelin’ okay?❞ It was the first question to leave her, yet the look in his eyes told her he meant the question and sought something. As for what, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. ❝I mean... maybe? But, this sort of thing has been my life since I was...❞ A rough childhood, something he could relate to. ❝Well, you know. I don’t think I’d be opposed to trying if I could, but those opportunities don’t shine on people like me, you know? ❞

[starttheanarchy]

@thehandsomeasshole from x

Jack did smile at the little sass she threw his way, despite himself. “Well, empty, those things weigh nearly five tonnes. So, nice try. I guess.” He chose to ignore her initial comment about using the loaders for their designed purpose. There was not enough patience in Jack’s body to unpack all of that right now.

“Oh, the vaults are definitely a curse. But, once you get the ball rolling around here, there’s not really anything anyone can do to stop it.” Jack shrugged lightly, scanning through the first four pages while he spoke, “You just… gotta do what you can before another idiot comes along and screws everything up even worse than you did.”

“Nah, you’re right. Princess made me feel a little icky. How about… I- I’ll get back to you, I’ll think of something real good.” he laughed lightly, beginning to scribble down some notes on the papers before he continued.

“You sure as hell act like ‘em, you and your bandit buddies. Just exactly how many things or people have you killed since you got to Pandora? Hey, look, I’ll even give wildlife a pass cause- Well, you could kill a hundred skags one day and the next day there’d be two hundred more. Let’s just focus on people. Maybe you’re not running around screaming about meat bicycles, and maybe it is a little rude of me, but it’s also correct. You just don’t wanna admit it.”

“The people who are still decent in this universe are few and far, kid. In my entire life, I’ve only met two people who were truly selfless.” One’s dead and the other’s… worse. “But, you do realise that if it wasn’t me up here, it’d just be someone else? Hell, Dahl and Atlas would still be plowing through planets like they’re big balls of paper and slaughtering everyone in their way while going off about fighting for those planets’ freedoms and peace.”

“Ooh, I love tyrant! Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Always considered myself more notorious, than anything else.” The sharp, almost humorous-sounding edge to his voice gave the impression he was teasing her, “Kid, it’s nothin’ I haven’t heard before. You really think I’m gonna be kicking it anytime soon, anyway? Nah. Nope, not happening! I got way too much to do.”

Jack’s brows knitted together and slowly raised in a mixture of surprise and confusion. Sure, maybe she didn’t care, he’d just never had a person who hated him ask for his side of the story before.

He decided not to express his shock.

“So, I’d been working on Helios since it launched, I was, uh-… A- a programming and engineering specialist for Hyperion for ten, fifteen years, maybe. I was in charge of most of the construction, getting together schematic proposals to give to my bosses, all that kinda shit.”

“The first time I met Lilith and Roland was when Dahl decided they wanted to massacre all the workers on Helios and take it over. They… They didn’t discriminate. If you worked for Hyperion, they’d gun you down without even batting an eye. They killed so many of the workers up here, I knew them all personally. We- we didn’t even have a real military then, for God’s sake! They shot workers out of the sky when they were trying to evacuate. That was the level of murderous psychopaths we were trying to deal with. We defended as best as we could, but even the freaking loaders weren’t weaponised yet, I had like… Six hours to get them into a position to defend themselves, and you bet your ass I did it. I guess that actually answers your earlier question, too. I used them for a job they weren’t made for out of necessity, the damn Lost Legion shot at them when they were running away, too. Assholes.”

“I managed to get the vault hunter’s I’d hired down to Elpis in a moonshot, think you’ve met a couple of them. They got to Concordia thanks to-” Shit. He hadn’t actually thought about Janey in a while. He’d ask Athena how they were both doing, but she’d probably curb stop his head before he could even say hello. “-uh, this mechanic. They asked Lilith and Roland to help cause, y'know, Dahl had stuck a jamming signal somewhere on that moon and I couldn’t work Helios’s defences until it was shut off. They knew people on Helios were dying, and they said no.”

“They only started to help when their lives were in immediate danger and Dahl got control of the moonshot laser and start firing away at Elpis. I really did trust 'em to help us, y'know? Like they promised they would.”

“I guess they kinda did. We managed to get control of the laser again and… They blew it up. They nearly took the whole space station down just because they didn’t want Hyperion having it. That stupid laser could’ve saved Pandora, you know. It could’ve- The blasts were so concentrated we could’ve wiped out an entire bandit settlement and their nice neighbours next door would’ve barely felt the ground tremble. I’d worked so hard on that laser. You have any idea how hard it was to make? How much progress they destroyed when they blew that damn thing up? A lot! A whole, freaking lot and-… Sorry. Off topic. Uh…”

He made a small noise, “Oh, yeah. Anyway, after that it was just a rush trying to get to the vault before anyone else did. Dahl was already there, but after what happened with those two I wouldn’t have been surprised if they got to the vault first just so we couldn’t.”

“But, we did. My vault hunters took care of the- The Empyrean Sentinel, I think they called it. Big bastard, more human than the other vault monsters. Freaky stuff.”

“So, the Sentinel was dead, and we finally got to the vault relic. It looked like… Nothing. Very underwhelming. Just a weird little floating vault symbol. I decided to touch it and-…” Jack went quiet for a while, his knuckles growing white with how tightly he was gripping the armrests of his chair, “And I saw… everything.”

He felt sick even talking about it. The pit in his stomach growing deeper and he knew if he didn’t stop soon he’d fall into a full blown breakdown. So, he took a shaky breath in and continued.

“Wasn’t long after that when Lilith made her grand entrance. She destroyed the relic and- blasted the fuck out of my face. You ever had your face branded by some freaky eridian technology? It sucks. Real bad.”

He let his head drop back, and he rubbed his eyes, “So, there’s my side. Think I can quit my day job and become a professional story teller?” Though he tried to make a joke, the fire in his voice seemed to have dissipated. He just sounded… tired.

A rumbling high pitched cry of a living creature, the soft hum of a laser heating up. Before the spiderant can fully leave the ground in its attempt to launch itself at the red head, a quick shot from the head of DT turns it into ash. Moments later the large floating torso of a robot moves its way over to where the rest of the spiderants are and begins clearing the area with ease. "To be fair DT is a floating robot, I should get props for him being able to lift anything over a tonne at all." Is all she can say as she watches her creation be used not exactly for what she had originally intended.

A noise of agreement left her as she nodded her head, this was a mess that she was playing catch up on. Every step revealed a new and sometimes old issues or problems, and untold horrors that would explain some of the residents insanity.

"Oh so what am I suppose to not fight back and die? Self-defense is a thing." She keeps her lips tight on the actual number of people, she knows it is higher then she ever wanted.

Another reason to the countless hours she was stuck away while the others rested. But that is a mental spiral that no one has seen yet even herself, and Gaige wasn't going to break that record.

"Do you realize that it doesn't matter who, I would still be here. I would cause just as much chaos even if it was Maliwan or Torgue, the company doesn't matter, it is the enormity of the actions that are taking place that I have a grievance against. So once I am done with this, I got a whole check list to work through."

A small tsk as her eyes roll once more, she could already feel the odd ache from rolling them too often. But to want the title of tyrant why trying to claim being a hero? And he was calling her a hypocrite, the gall. But then there is silence after her offer. It is enough to get her to move forwards, the area now clear of deadly wildlife, and to sit down on top one of the ridges. And she could hear him begin in her ear, truly starting fro the beginning.

Her hand goes to her vault buckle, slipping it off and clicking it open to show a hidden system of her own design. A small holoscreen flickered to life above it and she began to take notes, to be able to keep her questions to herself and not interrupt. But before she could really take much, she had to slowly turn her eyes back to that giant floating H as he began to talk about the first real blood shed the station ever saw. No one deserved that kind of fate, let alone those who can't even fight back. And she could understand why loaders were used for what they are, even if there had been enough time to design something new.

Through out the whole story she let out the occasional hum or tsk in reaction, but also to let the man on the other side of the echo understand she was still listening.

A mechanic on Concordia? Something to ask others later on, there couldn't be many considering the lack of them on Pandora. As well as to ask on the reason why for the initial no considering at that point the vault hunters as far as she was aware had no issues with Hyperion, let alone Jack.

And she was torn on the laser because she could understand the pain of such handwork just ripped away. And she had a vague idea on how challenging it was with the laser that rested inside DT's head. But at the same time, she would never want anyone to have a laser of that magnitude considering if it could do that to a bandit settlement. Well it would only be a few tweaks away from being able to glass planets.

She paused in her notes when he mentioned seeing everything, it was hard to believe but there was something in his voice that made her believe he certainly saw something he shouldn't have. Gaige was going to have to go back onto that one on a different day since she could tell that right now was a horrible time to do so. And even as he talked about what Lilith did and the reason why he wore a mask, she could head just how this was not the cocky Jack from earlier.

This was a person who was done but still going. Something that it seemed being near Pandora did to people.

"Well I would say quit your day job regardless and stop all this without anymore murder. But we both know we are too far in to be willing to stop." A small click as she closed the cover on the buckle to once more hide away her person little holounit that stored information that she kept only for herself. The notes saved for review for another day. "I do have questions, but you sound..... Rough. Would you rather a topic change? Or just end this call? I do have things to do, and I'm sure you have plenty of ill placed paper work to finish."

[writr4luvrs]

Request: Nisha finds a young child and takes them in.

{\}

Being alone is what you've had to deal with since the orphanage shut down, your care taker rain into debt, and no one was going to consider taking in a child that was "too old". One by one the children were either getting jobs, leaving the city to join the bandits, or were just... gone. Soon, you had to leave the city because you weren't contributing to the cycle of economics.

In the beginning, living outside the city sucked: being constantly shot by bandits especially since you were part of a bandit gang, having to live in constant war for territory; nearly suffocating, either cause you lost track of time or you bandit brothers and sisters wanted to prank you; or constantly being nearly eaten by the Elpis' many creatures. Though, one bandit treated you different, teaching you everything she knew about Oz kits and how to make them last, how to add mods to them, or how to make them simply explode. She was a great teacher... until she died while joyriding off a cliff in a moon buggy (the way she wanted). After the incident you left the bandit gang and walk, stole a buggy til it ran out of gas, and found a garage in a not so quiet area.

You turned it into your own shop using your knowledge of Oz kits, and despite selling the kits, earning what little credits you could, life outside the city still fucking sucked. And, hey, maybe it got worse once a few bandits started becoming aware that maybe your kits were maybe rigged to fail over a period of time so that maybe the bandits would come back and maybe you could earn a few extra alleged credits.

"You little shit..." one of the six bandits growl at you while the rest thought to trash your garage. You thought you could just con me out of my fucking money?!" he grabs you up by the collar, god you hope he doesn't punch you again.

"You signed a warranty." You recall the paper with a handwritten sentence that stated "No refunds" with just a line underneath it for signature. "I can't read, asshole." He replies. You pause, haven't thought of that before.

"Well... I don't understand how that's my fau-" earning you another punch in the face and you thrown to the floor. While lying there, thinking over all that had happened the last few months to avoid this very moment. You tilt your head up to the sound of a gun cocking and see that it's aimed at you. The sight makes you start to silently cry, making it hard for you to breathe, you didn't want to die. Seconds before he's able to pull the trigger, he turns around to the gunshots and his crew yelling at someone. You use this opportunity to run, earning bullets in your direction and as you take cover behind a toppled over desk, and peaking over you see a brown woman in a cowboy hat. It was like everything was in slow motion as you watched her take out the gang so... easily. The show was interrupted as a bandit falls in front of you, eyes rolled and tongue out of their mouth.

You gag at the sight, you want to throw up but you feel like you've run out of fluids due to the earlier punches to your stomach.

Within seconds, everything was quiet until you hear footsteps in your direction and the desk is kicked and you no longer have your cover, finally getting a clear look at the woman, immediately blurting the words: "Are you emo?" earning you a scowl. "The one eye covered is kind out of style don't you think?"

"Hey, at least mine is clean, kid." she responds, you hint that she's amused. "And that's not how you respond to someone that just saved you."

"It's the trauma and shock talking, besides I had everything handle."

"Did you?" she refers to the tear streaks, bruises, and the destroyed garage.

"Downsides of being an entrepreneur."

"Sad to see the job officially over."

"Huh?" You question as you move amongst the garage to pick up some valuables, sad when you see the only baby picture of you crumbled.

"Putting it blunt, I'm being paid to keep your little ass from continuing your independent business."

"Says who?!"

"Says the credits sent to my account, you're lucky I don't kill you like ordered and if I don't someone else..." she nods to the dead. "will." She looks around, opening lockers for anything that will aid her in her journey, she was leaving. She was right, you knew more bandits would come and if not bandits, assassins like her who would kill you for their capitalist employer. You dropped the no longer valuables and grabbed your bug out backpack, you're going with the cowgirl.

The cowgirl steps out of the garage, her Oz kit activating and you followed, your Oz kit activating as well. "What are you doing?" she questions after taking no more than a couple steps.

"What are you doing?" you question back.

"Walking." she answers, continuing her journey, taking a few glances over her shoulder seeing as you continued to follow her steps. She turns around to pick you up, retrace her steps and place you back at the garage before she continued only for you to continue following her. "No, no. I am not playing mother duck."

"Well, I can't stay at the garage."

"Then go to Concordia."

"I can't and won't."

"Well, you can't follow me!"

"I don't want to be alone." She replies by throwing her head back and letting out a loud groan.

"I might actually kill you..." she mutters. "You can't follow me, I do bad people stuff."

"Yeah..." you blink.

"I kill and have killed hundreds of people and creatures, gone to many dangerous lands, and have agreed to illegal deals for a lucrative amounts of credits, you will not follow me." You give her a silence and a slow blink, you began dissociating at the word 'have' and she realized you weren't listening and sighs. "The moment we get somewhere safe and quiet, you are to stay there and not follow me.

And you followed, even after finding the seemingly unquiet and high temperature place she wanted to dump you at, you continued to follow her, learning her name was Nisha and she was a vault hunter.

At one point she got sick of it and threatened her way into getting you a "free" stay in Concordia of the now dead Mayor and Sheriff's luxury apartment. You stay there happily and took every moment to be at her side whenever she visited the small city, asking her about her journey, her guns, her hat, her make up, her friends, etc. It bugged her, she even yelled at you due to her annoyance. She yelled, calling you a bother and wished you'd stop pestering her. It took one of her colleague to get her to stop.

The incident made you embarrassed, it hurt you, making you leave the city, getting barley lost, distracting you by throwing rocks at small alien pests. Despite your efforts to get closer to her, you were still alone. You sit in the moon's dirt and hug your knees, drawing in the dirt slowly, ignoring the fast falling stars and quickly darkened sky only for you to be picked up by your collar and look eye to eye to Nisha. "Where have you been? You know it's dangerous to leave the city?!" Only responding to her was a pouty face and eyes that looked away from her, she let you go and sighs, a hand on her hip.

Nisha knew why and unknowingly to you, it upset her that she automatically compared herself to a deceased relative. A moment passed before a quick "Sorry" left her and she grabs your hands to guide you back to the city. "Don't leave again, it's too dangerous and you can get hurt and..." she stops her rambling. "Just don't, not without me and not without protect." She takes you to Moxxi's bar and you both sit at the bar in silence for a moment before she orders two shots of sambuca, you smelt the scent even before Nisha handed one to you.

"I'm going to say this once, look at me," she begins, making sure you have her strict attention. "You will not leave this city without me until you are old enough and well and ready to protect yourself. I will train you and you are not to question me, I'm teaching you to survive, understand?" You give a hesitant nod as an answer. "I want to hear you."

"Yes... I understand."

"Good, now drink fast." she downs the shot before setting the glass on the bar, she waits for you.

"It smells bad." she grins, waiting for you. You down the shot as quickly as possible, making a face and sticking out your tongue in disgust, earning a chuckle from Nisha. She places a hand on your head giving a proud "good." It isn't even a minute later before you run outside the bar and throw up in the nearest corner.

"It was one shot...to be fair it was sambuca." she guides your dizzy figure to your home and gets you in bed.

"I don't want to drink sambuca again."

"That's fair, it was only an agreement."

"I don't have to call you mom do I?"

"Please don't."

"Now I have to call you mom, mom."

"Stop." she sings before turning out your lamp light.

"With auntie Athena and and uncle Wilhelm."

"And cousin claptrap.."

"...Nevermind." you fall asleep.

[thethespacecoyote]

“A Haunting in Helios”

A company like Hyperion never truly slept, especially running on an artificial day-night cycle. Though plenty of businesses shut down after the workday many more stayed open, serving those dedicated or crazy enough to pull all nighters all in the name of an extra hundred bucks on the next paycheck or an inch above the competition when it came to promotions.

Rhys slipped into the sparse crowds pretty inconspicuously, looking little different from the rest of the late-night crunch crowd. As he walked, he accessed one of the more reliable forums he’d found on the rumors of Handsome Jack’s ghost, refreshing himself on the personal accounts he’d been pouring over for the past day.

Maybe Jack’s soul wasn’t at rest. That’s why ghosts happened right? Like, hypothetically? Spirits with unfinished business? Pandora was still a mess and Hyperion was dealing with a serious power vacuum. That screamed pretty unfinished to Rhys.

If that was true, maybe he could help him out?

Ha-hah. Rhys snorted at himself. As if Handsome Jack would ever accept help, even in the afterlife.

Rhys chases a rumor into the bowels of Helios and winds up having a life-changing encounter with a “ghost.”

Considering they were employed by one of the most advanced, technologically savvy arms companies in the galaxy, Hyperion workers could be surprisingly superstitious.

Rhys knew some guys who carried around lucky skag’s paws in their pockets or dangling under their clothes. He’d witnessed people skipping the third and fourth steps in stairwell J-4 off the Hub because allegedly that’s where the bodies of unfortunate interns were buried.

Even Rhys had a pair of special socks he would wear on days that he had to make important presentations.

But a ghost?

That extended beyond mere good-luck charms and forces of habit. And yet, that was the rumor Rhys had been hearing about the water cooler. That down in the depths of Helios, in some long-forgotten and rundown old hallway, haunted the ghost of none other than Handsome Jack himself.

“Can you imagine? Walking down the hallway, minding your own business, and bam! Jack is just there.” Rhys waggled his spoon in emphasis, before digging it back into his half-eaten ice cream sundae.

He always saved the cherry for last. A weird habit people always commented on, though Vaughn was long used to it. He watched as Rhys nudged the bright red fruit around in the melted puddle of ice cream at the bottom of the bowl, coating it in a mixture of strawberry and chocolate.

“Well you know. It’s all just stories, right?” Vaughn scoffed, digging a spoon into his own, much smaller sundae. “Right?”

Rhys swirled the ice cream soup at the bottom of his bowl.

“I mean…who knows? If there’s anyone who I’d bet money could come back from the dead…it would probably be Jack.”

“God. No, Rhys, no. Don’t jinx it with your obsession!”

“I’m not. Shut up, dude.” Rhys rolled his eyes, dropping his spoon back into the bowl with a clink. “And finish your ice cream! I’ve been done for like ten minutes.”

“Oh, it definitely hasn’t been that long.” Vaughn slipped an ample morsel between his lips. “You’re just a garbage disposal when it comes to this stuff.”

“If you mean the most handsome garbage disposal this side of Helios…then yes.” Rhys pretended to slick his hair back and shot Vaughn his sleaziest look. This earned him an eye-roll.

“Well, I guess Handsome Jack lives on in one of us.”

“Oh sure,” Rhys smirked. “You know I always had the better hairstyle.”

It probably was crazy to go chasing a rumor as insane as “Handsome Jack’s ghost haunts the abandoned halls of Helios” but well, Rhys had grown a little restless lately. And with no big projects to distract him, all he could think about was the stories of those employees who had allegedly come into contact with him.

So late that evening, Rhys left Vaughn sleeping on the couch with some dumb late-night ECHO program running, moving as quietly as possible as he slipped on his boots and slid out the door.

A company like Hyperion never truly slept, especially running on an artificial day-night cycle. Though plenty of businesses shut down after the workday many more stayed open, serving those dedicated or crazy enough to pull all nighters all in the name of an extra hundred bucks on the next paycheck or an inch above the competition when it came to promotions.

Rhys slipped into the sparse crowds pretty inconspicuously, looking little different from the rest of the late-night crunch crowd. As he walked, he accessed one of the more reliable forums he’d found on the rumors of Handsome Jack’s ghost, refreshing himself on the personal accounts he’d been pouring over for the past day.

Maybe Jack’s soul wasn’t at rest. That’s why ghosts happened right? Like, hypothetically? Spirits with unfinished business? Pandora was still a mess and Hyperion was dealing with a serious power vacuum. That screamed pretty unfinished to Rhys.

If that was true, maybe he could help him out?

Ha-hah. Rhys snorted at himself. As if Handsome Jack would ever accept help, even in the afterlife.

This whole excursion was a really, really stupid idea, and he should just turn around and head back home to Vaughn. But if he didn’t go and at least take a look, it would eat at him for days. Better just go and confirm it wasn’t true sooner rather than later.

The instructions on the forum lead him to one of the auxiliary elevators in the hub and told him to punch in a floor he was pretty sure he’d never visited before. A couple other people got in with him, inputing their own floors before the elevator started to descend through the space station. Gradually everyone else filtered back out, until once again Rhys was left all alone, with nothing but the hum and click of the machinery around him to keep him company.

Finally, the display above the door lit up with a cheery ding that belied the sight that opened up in front of Rhys’ eyes. Swallowing, his finger briefly danced on the button to take him back up to the Hub as he gazed out into the empty floor extending out from the elevator’s entrance. Just as the doors were about to close however he took a step forward, then another, until he was too far away to run back as the elevator slid shut behind him.

This far away from the central hub and offices of Helios things looked a lot less like the polished, colorful corporate environment Rhys had grown used to and more like of the abandoned facilities on Elpis he’d seen through photographs and holograms. The hallway he now braved walking down thankfully didn’t look infested with torks or any other horrible creatures found moon-side, but dust flaked down from the walls and any doors he passed were broken or locked. Rhys took a peek inside one, finding nothing more then shattered cubicles and conspicuously spaces on the floor when computers and appliances used to sit.

Rhys tightened his jaw, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he willed himself to keep walking.

As the hallway continued, the light fixtures above grew less and less reliable, with some panels completely broken, leaving bands of the ground in the dark. Some stretched longer than others, with a good couple yards of hallway dim and even more eerie than the rest of the deserted floor. Rhys walked especially quickly through these portions, mind creating terrors in the busted doors and empty walls even when his ECHOeye told him nothing was there.

As the hallway turned around a corner, he slowly realized the usual cool, re-circulated air he’d grown used to living on Helios felt stale and stiff here. Still breathable, sure, but like dust clung to every atom of oxygen.

He didn’t know how far this hallway went, or if he might end up encountering a collapsed ceiling or flaw in the life support systems. Readouts on his ECHOeye fed back data on the composition and quality of the air around him, but this far away from the center of Helios—far enough that even the holographic map he brought up on his palm—his connection to the net could get a little spotty.

Still, creepy as this part of Helios was, Rhys hadn’t seen any evidence of the supernatural yet. Nor, honestly, any sign this hallway had been touched by Handsome Jack’s presence at all. Even now, after his death, the rest of the space station remained stamped with his mark, his posters and advertisements plastered everywhere and his statues lovingly tended to. But here?

When Rhys actually stopped to take a look at the faded images on the walls or scattered on the floor, none looked anything like those iconic images of Hyperion’s most illustrious CEO. He could make out an old logo here and there, colored in passé red and white, alongside some pictures of what had to be long-passed company leaders. Rhys felt less like that elevator had taken him to another part of the station and more like it’d transported him to a completely different time.  

Looking at these relics actually helped to distract him from the reason he’d come here in the first place, at least until he lifted his head to glance towards one of the deserted doorways—and there he stopped in his tracks, at first unable to process what he was seeing.

Just above the darkened entrance, emblazoned in sloppy, blue lettering, read:

WELCOME KIDDOS.

A weight dropped in Rhys’ stomach, rooting him to the floor as he stared at the words, trying to process their existence.

Oh fuck.

It was probably just random graffiti, maybe sprayed there by someone trying to mess with people who came here looking for the ghost, but it had Rhys on edge. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore his panicking heart as he took a step through the doorframe. He’d come this far, already sunk enough time into this rumor. Creepy as it was, he wasn’t going to let some message scare him off.

Rhys turned the light in his cybernetic palm on, using it to scan over the floor to make sure he wouldn’t trip over any debris.

It looked like one of the many other offices he’d walked by so far. Anything useful had been ripped out long ago, leaving snapped wires and noticeably cleaner spots in their wake, with only real clunky, useless technology still sitting besides cracked desks and stains cubicle walls. Rhys moved the light carefully over his path, securing each step before he moved forward. He peered around, hoping to find something interesting, but the office looked similar to the hallway outside—decrepit, and covered in old Hyperion advertisements that might’ve sold for a pretty vintage penny if they weren’t tattered and spotted with mold.  

The office looked old and creepy, sure, but as he scanned around the room, he couldn’t find much else of interest. But just so nobody would doubt him when he told this story, he decided to peel one of those old posters off the wall. One of the smaller ones, that he could easily fold up and put inside his pocket without risking it disintegrating.

Just as he finished and he turned to leave, however, something suddenly prickled through the air like static electricity. Rhys tensed, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up if someone had traced a cool finger down it.

“Who…who’s there?” Rhys whispered, feeling less isolated and alone than a few minutes ago.  

He expected—and hoped—for no answer, but the moment he finished speaking a hush of static brushed up against his ears like an eerie kiss, and even as Rhys desperately tried to grasp for a rational explanation an erratic, electric blue sheen cast upon a broken cubicle wall, silhouetting his terrified shadow up against it. He whirled around, eyes wide and heart pumping, only to regret his choice a mere second later at the sight in front of him.

His first thought—holy shit, the rumors were true—couldn’t hold a candle to the second, more alarming realization that raced up right after—that’s Handsome Jack’s ghost and it’s going to fucking kill me.

Because there was no doubt that the brilliant blue specter hovering in front of him belonged to Jack. It looked exactly like him aside from the color and unsettling transparency. The ghost’s brilliance sucked all remaining light out of Rhys’ surroundings, leaving him swallowed in black as he tried convincing himself to move.

Gold eyes suddenly fixed upon him, too bright and alien even against the already surreal, glowing body.

“Hey pumpkin!”

Rhys screamed. He screamed a scream he might be embarrassed about if anyone else had heard him, but right now with a jagged, neon blue ghost hovering in front of him he didn’t care how he sounded. Or how he looked, as he spun on his heels and lunged in the opposite direction, fleeing from the apparition as quickly as he could manage.

“Woah, wait! Hang on!”

Rhys wouldn’t “hang on” for anybody in this creepy part of Helios, especially not a real fucking ghost. Unfortunately, he only ended up running couple of yards before his body betrayed him—or rather, the heel of his boot did, as it landed wrong on a slat of debris and nearly snapped. Rhys screamed, even louder this time, his arms pinwheeling out as he tripped, landing with a smack and a squeal against the floor. He even skidded a bit, knocking fallen ceiling panels and loose wires out of the way as he ground to a halt. His heart hammered in his chest, sending shocks of pins-and-needles pain all the way down to his knees and palms.

A harsh noise sounded too close behind him and he quickly flipped onto his back, Rhys’ stomach nearly dropping out his ass when he saw the ghost floating towards him, arms crossed tightly about its chest.

Rhys could nearly see right through him, glowing blue form as translucent and intimidating as a bolt of electricity. He could almost feel the energy in the air, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as if he’d rubbed his socks against the apartment carpet. He tried to push himself up off the ground but his ankle protested, still recovering from the tumble. He managed to squirm only a couple of inches, the distance between himself and the ghost easily overtaken as Jack floated closer, his ghostly form looming large, ready to engulf him whole.

“S-S-Stay back! Back!” Rhys cried, holding his hands out defensively in front of him as Jack advanced upon him, those eerie golden eyes blazing above an aggravated looking frown. Surely, the last thing many employees had seen from Jack in life, and now probably the last for Rhys too, before the ghost decided to suck out his soul or drain the air out of the hallway or whatever horrible thing it was planning to do with him. Rhys shut his eyes tight, shaking with fear as he thought of all the worst torment the ghost of a man like Handsome Jack would do to him.

But the ghost didn’t try to asphyxiate him, or try to take his soul. He didn’t try to bring the whole hallway down around them or shock Rhys with his freaky blue spirit energy. No, instead, it did something familiar, something Rhys recognized from recordings and public appearances back when Jack had still been alive.

It laughed.

The sound crackled and broke, as if fed through an old speaker. It twisted Rhys’ stomach further into knot, his fear so strong now he could feel it in the back of his throat. The ghost laughed like someone had taken Jack’s voice and pulled all the life out of it, leaving it a cold, improperly preserved recording.

“You’re…would you believe you’re the first one to frikkin’ face-plant like that, kiddo? Jeez. Lots of dummies have come down here but…man…” The ghost mimed wiping a tear away from its eye before it leered down at Rhys.

“Well…I’m not about to say no to a free lunch. Finally got one of you small fry right where I want you.”

Rhys jolted when the ghost floated towards him. He grabbed around with his hand looking for anything to fend it off. He grabbed only a broken piece of molding but still swung it in front of him, a last ditch attempt to look intimidating.

“Back off! I’m t-telling you!” He managed to squeak. The ghost’s eyebrows slid up, unimpressed.

“I’d say kudos for trying, pumpkin. But this is pretty lame.” It laughed again, sound this time edged with a darker humor that chilled Rhys’ bones. “Too little, too late. You’re mine.”

Rhys saw the movement to his left a moment too late. Before he had a chance to move out of the way or even turn his head, something long and yellow and much more solid than Jack shot out and struck him right in the temple. Rhys screamed, cupping the side of his head, expecting searing pain or blood, but after a moment of terrified groping finding only something firmly stuck into his port.

“W-W-What? Huh?” Rhys babbled only for a sudden shock to ring around his port. He jerked, feeling something probe into his brain—no, his very mind itself—out from the thing stuck in his temple. He twitched involuntarily, a little bit of spit running down the side of his mouth. The visual feed of his ECHOeye glitched violently, warnings and pop-ups full of gibberish flashing in his vision as he writhed against the floor.

God. No no no no, this can’t be happening, this can’t—

And yet as soon as the shock had started it stopped, retreating back through his body to his port. He flopped against the ground, a light tingling in his extremities the only sign anything had gone wrong. He took deep breaths, trying to expand his lungs slowly—only for Handsome Jack’s face to appear inches from his own and scare the shit out of him once again.

“Jeez, kiddo.” The ghost grimaced, sticking a finger in its ear. Rhys scrambled back, heart again beating against his chest as he stared incredulously at the figure before him. The ghost crouched, still hovering a good couple of inches off the ground. An eyebrow raised above one yellow eye, watching him as Rhys struggled to comprehend what had happened.

“Wh…what did you do to me?” He finally drummed up the courage to speak, but couldn’t overcome the stutter in his voice.

“You know. I’m like. Inside you.” Jack waved his hand. “Well, you know. Not inside but like, inside your mind. Really lucked out, didn’t I? You’re just the vessel I needed.”

“You mean you’re—you’re possessing me?” Rhys cried, voice edging up hysterically. “Oh god, am…am I gonna have to get a fucking exorcism?”

“Watch your mouth, kiddo, I—wait a sec, no. You—” The apparition pinched the bridge of its nose and shook its head. “—You still think I’m some kind of ghost, right?”

“I…well…” Rhys swallowed tightly. “That was the most logical…well…that’s what I was assuming.”

“Logical?” Jack snorted, looking at Rhys like he was stupid. “You live in a frikkin’ space station with guns and tech that work like god-damn magic, and you still believe in ghosts?”

“But the stories said—“

“Yeah, ‘cause I play up the act to get some frikkin’ entertainment. Else it’d be a total snore-fest around here.”

“So what…what are you?” Rhys propped himself up on his elbows. Still on edge, but feeling a less tense and sick to his stomach than before. If Jack was in—inside him, then he wouldn’t try to hurt him, right?

“Not a frikkin’ ghost, I’ll tell you what. If I was a ghost, I wouldn’t have needed that—“ He pointed to the plug still stuck in Rhys’ temple. “To get inside of you. Or I’d be able to phase through walls and not have to deal with this damn isolated subsystem.”

“Subsystem?” Rhys furrowed his brow. If this part of Helios was long abandoned, it might’ve wound up cut off from the rest of the space station’s network. If Jack was reliant on that then yeah, he wasn’t a ghost, but then—?

Wait.

“Nakayama’s lost AI…I thought it was destroyed when he…” Rhys’ eyes widened, the pieces suddenly clicking into place. “So you’re…you’re Jack, you’re the real Jack…”

Well. As close as the real Jack as they were ever going to get again. Rhys wasn’t about to anger the AI any further by nit-picking.

“Of course I am. This—“ Jack gestured around the hallway, “—was just a stupid little setback. A mere bump in the road of my awesome heroics.”

He turned to look down at Rhys, who’d managed to wedge himself into a crouch but still wobbled on smarting feet.

“Well? I’m finally ready to move on out of this crap-pile and back to the top where I belong. Who knows what you dimwits have been doing to my company.”

Rhys bit his tongue, figuring he’d let Jack deal with the current power squabble on his own. Best not to get in the middle of something like that, especially with an unpredictable AI now throw into the mix.

“Of course, I…I don’t mind taking you back, sir, but uh…” Rhys rubbed the back of his neck. “What if no one believes me? There’s been a lot of uh…conspiracies and rumors and stuff ever since you’ve been gone.”

“No biggie.” Jack shrugged. “Anyone doesn’t believe you, just plug me back into Helios. Give them all a real fright once they see daddy’s back in action.”

“Right. Um. Guess there’s no point in hanging around. Guess I should…get you back…” Rhys finally pushed himself to his feet, his limbs still shaky and numb. He still felt a little disconnected as he pulled the plug from his temple, the reality of the situation yet to set in even with the AI of his dead boss and idol following him as he turned around to walk back the way he’d came—back to civilization. Back to Hyperion.

Rhys had gone in search of a rumor, and had instead come back with a legend.

He swallowed, looking over his shoulder to watch as Handsome Jack floated after him.

Wait ’til Vaughn heard about this.

[universal-kitty]

.: No More Ghosting :.

   Song fics are still a thing, aren’t they? How about...venting song fics? PROBABLY! Cause they’re great and nobody ever can change my mind about that.       With that said, have a fic.

Like my writing? I do commissions!

   Pandora wasn’t too shabby a place, really. Nor was Elpis...but maybe Rena found herself biased because she didn’t live on either planet. Nah, Hyperion’s own space station- Helios- was home enough. Elpis and Pandora were bandit-laden and her current boyfriend never shut up about how pesky they were. Weaving dramatic, heroic tales of how he’d scourge the earth clean of them and give people opportunity for a better life.

   “Between that and Lynchwood... Baby, we’re going places,” he had purred earlier, her chin caught tight in his grasp until he kissed her hard. It’d been a blur from there, warm and rough... Absolute heaven compared to what she woke up to.

   A lingering dream. Forced to be engaged to her ex-boyfriend. He followed her like a shadow nearly everywhere she went. Avoiding him had done nothing. Rena woke up with a feeling of sickness and heartache despite her much better positioning. He was far away. She’d become a respected scientist and Handsome Jack’s sweet pet... Best of both worlds, right?

   ...So why did she feel like she was on the verge of a panic attack...?

I’ve been ghosting I’ve been ghosting along Ghost in your house Ghost in your arms

   At least when Jack woke up, things were marginally better. Rena never told him about her ex-boyfriend, but... Why should she? It shouldn’t matter he existed at all... Not after how he hurt her. So it was easily dismissed as a nightmare. So easily hidden under affection for the scar over his face, for him. He drank it up like a thirsty man fresh from the desert sands, kissing her neck and being unusually sweet for another hour before they were both dragged out for their respective work.

   Surely, she’d be back to his office in no time. It brought a skip to her step, a song on her lips as she took the lift down back to the other. The employees of Hyperion, now all technically below her... Some days- days like this- it made her giddy to know it. Made her self-confidence boost up from the dredges it tended to be.

   A coffee was ordered from the Hub; a pick-me-up and a real, true signal that the workday would be beginning when dark hair caught her eye. Her veins froze to ice, suddenly immobile. No... It couldn’t be. It was just... She was overthinking it.

   Rena breathed deep...and looked up, to the janitor just across the way.

When you’re tossing When you turn in your sleep It’s because I’m ghosting your dreams And this is why I have decided To pull these old white sheets from my head

   ....Oh fuck all the galaxies, it was him. A changed man since she’d last seen him, but who else could it be but her ex-boyfriend?

   He hadn’t noticed Rena yet, thankfully. She watched him with caution, chatting some people up as he cleaned, friendly as ever... Her heart hurt. He meant so much to her, once. Kisses from him meant the world. Made her dizzy and oh-so in love...even though she swore it wasn’t possible. What in the world could she love more than him? Nothing, obviously. They were soulmates, forever, infinite, to find each other in each life that they had... Love like that is forever.

   They promised each other forever. Rena still had the ring.

   ...Then she found him holding hands with some other girl. Kissing her. Telling her he loved her. It’s why she left home in a frenzy, never to come back to the man who didn’t love her, the mother who didn’t care, and the father that so deeply scarred her.

   Thankfully, Tyrell never once looked her way, and Rena escaped back to R&D.

I’ll leave them folded nice and tidy So that you’ll know I’m out of hiding ~ I’ve been ghosting I’ve been ghosting alone Ghost in the world Ghost with no home

   Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Silverstreak had flown onto her shoulder and stuck herself there, unable to be dissuaded, argued with, or convinced to leave in any form. The little dragon was worked up to the heavens, huffing anxiously. Picking up on emotional cues? Suppose it wouldn’t be the first time... Maybe?

   Panic drowned out logic and rational thought. Memories included.

   Tears gathered in her eyes, taking off her glasses and putting her face into her hands, sobbing softly. There was work to be done, but like this...? He scared her. She...loved Jack, yes, but did it really outweigh Tyrell? Did he ever even love her enough? Did he love her at all? Did.... Did Jack love her?

   Rena could only cry harder, curling up on herself and fingers digging into her lab coat and the sleeves of the long-sleeved shirt she wore underneath. Hyperion issued, of course...

   The brain thinks up the weirdest things while distressed, doesn’t it...?

I remember I remember the days When I’d make you oh, so afraid

   Breathing was difficult. Calming down, difficult. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted him back in her arms. She wanted to shove him out the airlock... Do something that’d make Jack proud. If it meant an escape from this hell, anything sounded lovely. Even running...but Handsome Jack wouldn’t have that. He’d...be furious at her.

   ...Was telling him an option? Rena stressed over it, fingers threading into her hair. Tugging the strands gently, giving a gentle ache. Something to keep her focused.

   Maybe... Maybe telling Jack would be the right way to go. He’d do something about this and if not, Rena could surely tell him how much distress having Tyrell around put her under. Jack surely wouldn’t be able to resist a kill-offer, right...? Even if Rena herself had to pull the trigger of a gun on a real, alive human being... It would end it.

   Murder shouldn’t have made her so calm, so resolved and determined...but it did. Maybe Jack was a bad influence, after all...

   Sighing deeply, hands on the table, Rena put her body into motion. Spin the chair around, legs extended to slip back into her heels, looking up to the large window she had, looking out into the hallway...and froze anew.

   Tyrell stood outside. Their eyes met.

And this is why I have decided To leave your house and home unhaunted You don’t need poltergeist for sidekicks You don’t need treats and you don’t need tricks

   Rena was horrified. He stood there, eyes widening in recognition. Shit, no...! He knew- He still remembered--!!! A wave of nausea hit her, stumbling slightly.

   He waved, shyly. Sweet as ever. Sweet as she remembered him and his to- NO!!!

   Rena ran from the room. Into a side room that served as her bedroom. Set her lab on lockdown...and cried a panicked frenzy into her hands. This was awful. She hated him...she loved him... Go away, stay forever.

   It tore her apart until she nearly blacked out from the blinding, all-encompassing panic. Only with Silver’s stubborn determination did the little dragon keep Rena calm enough to get into her “lazy PJs” (shorts and a tank top), crawl into bed, and sleep.

You don’t need treats You don’t need tricks You don’t need no Halloween You don’t need treats You don’t need tricks and you don’t need me... ~ Me...

   After that, he never left her alone for long. Tyrell passed by her lab all the time, looking into the window. (She could feel his eyes, even if she ignored it.) He stalked the Hub, waiting for his chance. Leah was the only blessing Rena had, spilling drinks or stubbornly talking to him to keep him away from her. He was doggedly persistent and not only was it taking a toll on her health, sleep, and work, but on her relationship with Jack, too.

   After that time... Rena didn’t bring up the topic to him, after all. Not even when he called her up, crooning and being sickly sweet for the shits an’ giggles of it, and she curled up in his lap passively. The single time he thought to shock her to jolt her to activity (a little static electricity; puts her on edge, but usually safe to do) sent Rena into a full-blown panic attack with tears and incoherent babbling.

   Jack was stressed, Rena wouldn’t tell him anything (”It’s fine, I’m fine,” became her new mantra to him), and the cycle wouldn’t break. If anything, he seemed to be pissed off at her.

   Rena only cried harder back at her lab, feeling the impending doom of everyone hating her- including the person she loved, again- and the urge to run away from it all.

Hey, would it be so bad if I stayed...? I’m just a ghost out of his grave...

   It was the one time Rena wasn’t paying attention. The dragons needed rest, paperwork provided a surprising bit of relief, so Rena had gone out filling what needed to be done so she could add that to the pile of things done and done. Something to give her a bit of respite, if nothing else would...

   Jack would’ve, her brain reminded her. Rena cringed, pausing...and the door to her lab opened.

   “...Rena?” That sick feeling again. That comforting, hated sound of his voice. The chills that rolled down her spine to hear that familiar voice. Unforgettable. Destructive.

   Her throat locked up. She didn’t want to look at him, but Rena looked back anyways. To the young man in her doorway, smiling so sheepishly. Like he was gone to war, just made it back home, and baby, he’s sorry...

   She wanted him to leave so badly.

And I can’t make love in my grave... And I won’t put white into your hair...

   “It’s been...a long time. What happened?” He stepped more into her lab. Rena swallowed nervously.

   “G...getout.”

   “Huh? I couldn’t-”

   “G-Get out! Get out!!” Rena spun her chair around, eyes wide and panicked. He seemed shocked a moment, but lifted up his hands- an attempt to be nonthreatening- as he stepped more into the room. Not listening at all.

   “Hey, listen to me... Please? Look, I don’t know what happened, but... I’ve missed you. So much. You know how surprised I was to go to your house and...you weren’t home? To hear you’d gone missing?” Tears began to blur her vision, but Rena kept away from him. Tyrell kept trying to get closer as she moved away, not letting him to the best of her abilities.

   Still, he was patient.

I won’t make noises in your stairs... I will be kind and I’ll be sweet... If you stop staring straight through me...

   “We had so many plans... What happened to them?”

   “You cheated on me,” Rena said, voice cracking. She wanted it to sound so accusing. To hurt him. To let him know she was hurt and bitter...but it only ended up sounding pitiful. The way his gaze softened...she hated that, too.

   “I don’t know who told you that, but I would never do that to you. You’re my soulmate, remember? I promised you-”

   “Stop.....!”

   “-a house with a window seat. Two stories and plenty of room for us and our kids...?”

   “Stop it,” Rena sobbed, backing up against the counter. He saw his chance, grabbing her by the arm, tugging her close even as she struggled against him, trying to pull away-

   “Heeeeyyy, there, kiddos... What’s going on?” Her vision was blurry, but she’d know the imposing silhouette of Handsome Jack anywhere. Suddenly, all those times he paraded around being a “hero”... Well, he’d always been a questionable one, but never more so did he seem like one than right at that moment.

   “J-Jack...!!” His head moved slightly, still for a moment longer, then swept into the room, fast and most certainly furious. His rough, warm hand tore Rena away from Tyrell and into the familiar scent of his jackets, clinging to him in relief and wiping away her tears.

   He was most certainly furious; the darkest expression Rena had yet seen him with. Tyrell was a little intimidated, but ultimately chose to stand his ground, chin tilted down enough to be level, but still keep Jack within his sights.

And this is why I have decided To pull these old white sheets from my head I’ll leave them folded neat and tidy So that you know I’m out of hiding

   “So,” Jack snarled lowly, eyes narrowing just that bit more at Tyrell, “what did you think you were doing... Messing with what’s mine?”

   “She doesn’t belong to anyone,” Tyrell snapped back, his own eyes narrowing into a glare. “And what I wanted to speak about with Rena is personal.”

   “Don’t fucking think so, kiddo. In fact... Baby? Who’s this rotten little apple core and why’s he so....familiar with ya?” Jack glared at the other a moment or two longer before casting his gaze down, suspicious, but otherwise...as kind as he’d ever get.

   Should’ve told him about this earlier.

And this is why I have decided To leave your house and home unhaunted You don’t need poltergeist for sidekicks You don’t need treats and you don’t need tricks

   “H-He’s...Tyrell. He’s from the same planet I’m from,” Rena responded meekly, nearly hiding behind Jack for safety from the other just across the way. “...He’s...my ex-fiance, technically... Promised to get married an’ stuff, but he...um, cheated on me......”

   “Oho... Is that right?” Jack’s heterochromatic eyes practically sparkled at the newfound information, delighting in the burning hate that roared in his gut. Now that his brain was kicking into gear... Yeah, a few things seemed familiar when he’d glanced over the application. A familiar planet name the key one of ‘em, but what were the chances? Start off the stick with a low-level, entry job and maybe indulge him later. (Supposedly, he was a neato hacker...but Jack wasn’t much fond of the idea. Maybe if he survived a year under Hyperion...)

   Apparently, however, the chances were astronomical and he should’ve hired a fortune teller for this bullshit train to pull into the station!! Coulda wished Rena spilled the beans earlier, but hey... Life works in mysterious ways, ain’t that right...?

   “Hey, now-”

   “Baby... You wanna do something for me, sweetheart?” Jack had that purr in his voice... The one that promised something bad. It was supposed to be bad... Rena only felt a gentle thrill in her stomach, pulling away just enough from his coat to look up at him in silent curiosity. “Awh, lookit you...~! Of course you do! C’mere, dollface.”

You don’t need treats You don’t need tricks You don’t need no Halloween

   Jack pulled Rena close- in front of him, now- and him half-behind her. His eyes shone in excited delight, hands on her shoulders, before one left to go to his leg. It happened...faster than Rena could really process it.

   Tyrell stepped back cautiously. Jack shifted quickly behind her. An odd sound. A...crunch? Maybe a snap. Tyrell’s eyes opened so wide as he staggered to the ground. One of his legs...brown-y red.

   ...He was bleeding. There was sharp, red blood on her laboratory tile.

   Rena looked up at Jack in surprise, but he was grinning and giggling like a schoolgirl delivering her first love letter. “Ohhh, that’s a good start... Can’t have him running away, though, right? Some things gotta be done... In fact-”

   More shots- the odd sound from the specific kind of gun- sounding into the air. Tyrell’s left shoulder. His other leg. His hip. He cried out in pain- yelping, some times- and Rena watched on in shock. That wasn’t... Was this really...? This didn’t seem right. What was...going on?

   “Juuuuuussssstttt for you, baby,” he purred, his hand slipping into her own and getting her smaller, smoother hand around the gun’s handle. His breathing had picked up in excitement and- while not visible over his fake mask-face- Rena could easily imagine the flushed skin beneath. (...Was it okay to love him, if he might not love her back...?) “Final shot. All for you, sweetcheeks.”

You don’t need treats You don’t need tricks You don’t need treats You don’t need no Hallows Eve

   ...Final shot? K-Kill him...? Her eyes went back down to the man who used to be her love. Bad memories and good, swirled together into a mix that had her hesitant, even as Jack nudged her index on the trigger.

   “No safety, ready to blow... You got this.” He was patient, one hand still lightly over her own and the other still resting on her shoulder. Rena...wasn’t sure. Was it right to do? He... He was still-

   His hand reached for her. “R-Rena... Please-”

You don’t need treats You don’t need tricks And you don’t need...

   Bang!

   ....Silence. Stillness. Jack laughing softly, then louder. Louder! He tossed his head back and cackled like a hyena in pure delight. He took the pistol back, shoving it back into the holster and up Rena found herself, squeaking softly as he swept her into his arms and laughed.

   She...wasn’t there yet. He was happy, though. That was...nice. It was over, right? It was over, Jack was thrilled from Pandora to back to Elpis to back again....and his lips peppered kisses all over her face until he could leave a sloppy one on her lips.

   “That’s my babygirl,” he purred, hitching Rena up a little higher. “Let’s celebrate, huh...? A new milestone...you an’ me, sweetcheeks.” She should’ve known it was coming; that sharp swat to the rear that made him laugh some more...but sometimes, he was still a surprise. An enigma, even to her.

   Eyes closing as he prattled on about her success today and what they could do together while Jack called an impromptu day off from further work to party with her. Someone else could deal with the mess; anything less than perfect would result in a bigger mess, so watch out! ....Rena couldn’t help but smile.

   Oh, yes... She loved this terrible boss of hers...but maybe it wasn’t so bad. Not. At. All~♡

Me...

[doppeldonger]

The Scarlet Letter

The first time he sees her, he’s just released from the doppelgänger program to be moonshot to Elpis, his clothes fresh and his face new and unused. He acts the “handsome asshole with bravado” part quite well, if he says so himself; the swagger looks just right on his fit figure, hands casually in his pockets like he owns the damn place.

But then he sees her.

The colorful lights of the bar caress her pale skin, bringing out her perfect curves; he can’t take his eyes off of the bar owner, her merciless chest, the tiny dress hugging her body, and that voluptuous smile gracing her gorgeous face.

He should be saying something, cracking a joke about how she’s Jack’s ex- or hell, complimenting her, even… But he’s simply speechless, so it’s no surprise that the only sound leaving him is a strangled gurgle. Nisha throws a glare in his way, tipping her hat low and approaching the bar; she rolls her eyes at Timothy’s dumbstruck expression and shares an amused look with Wilhelm before she dives in, peppering Moxxi’s ego with insults. Timothy shakes himself, shedding his reverie like one wakes up from sleep and he interrupts the kinky cowgirl, “Fuck off, Nish! If you’ll get nasty like that, go get yourself a drink and shut up.”

The way Nisha is looking at him speaks a thousand words, like “I’d snap your fucking head if I wasn’t so amused by your show of bravery.” or “You’re lucky you’re Jack’s doppelgänger or I would’ve torn your face off by now.”

The way Moxxi is looking at him, though… Her electric blue eyes shine with amusement and appreciation alike, the angry snarl directed towards Nisha now changed into a pleased little smile, reserved just for him. Looking at the bar owner, Timothy can feel his face burn up in crimson.

Gosh, he’s so embarrassed.

The second time he sees her, the mood is much darker although the scenery is the same. The so-called betrayal of Moxxi, Lilith and Roland left behind long ago, the Vault of the Sentinel has been raided dry; Jack has received the accursed visions, engraved every little detail in the ever-scheming brain of his and dethroned Tassiter just a week ago. Claptrap’s done for, Athena has quit, a very-bored Aurelia following her not much later. That leaves Nisha, Wilhelm and Timothy to deal with Jack’s crazed shenanigans. Juuuuust lovely.

Wilhelm makes his way to the R&D department to let them work on his future robotic enhancements and Jack departs with Nisha for Pandora to take over Lynchwood.

Not before he leaves a gift for Timothy, however.

Thinking back, Timothy is certain that “gift” is for Jack rather than for him; after all, the doppelgänger was the one left screaming in pain on the floor with Jack looming over him with a manic smile on his lips and a brand in his hands.

The moment Jack abandons Timothy to have fun (A.K.A. wreak havoc on Pandora) with his new girlfriend, the doppelgänger abandons Helios to wander around Elpis aimlessly until his feet drag him into Moxxi’s bar, his clothes crumpled, the scar on his face new and hurting like a bitch.

Pulling his hood lower onto his offensive face, he makes his way to the bar and the absence of his usual polite-and-cheerful attitude immediately alarms the bar owner. She can’t look past the shadows of his hood, and it takes a good deal of coaxing to get his head up just an inch.

And then she sees it.

They end up in the backroom Moxxi uses as her lodging whenever she’s running the bar on Elpis, the woman shaking with fury as opposed to Timothy’s cold nonchalance and resignation. She demands answers, just like he expected her to do, barely able to contain her frustrated screams at Jack’s boldness. He’s just silent, sitting on the edge of Moxxi’s bed sized just for a queen like her, eyes looking at a spot in the wall and unseeing.

She eventually sits down next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and tries to get him to do something, to talk, to scream, to cry… she just wants him to stop bottling up his emotions so.

But he feels so, so embarrassed.

“It’s not your fault.” she murmurs, carding her long thin fingers through his disheveled hair and thinking how easily he revels in the gesture Jack hated so much. He was supposed to be a face like Jack’s and nothing more, but he’s a completely different human being under all the plastic surgery and training; she falls for him a little just by watching him there, the deep bass of the club providing background noise, albeit muffled. “You’re a wonderful person, and you deserve none of this.”

His head snaps up and he looks at her disbelievingly, “I do! I asked for all this when I signed up for this shit!”

She can understand how he feels, “You couldn’t have known. Don’t be embarrassed.” She knows, she knows, and that makes him feel all the worse. He ends up sliding off the bed onto the floor nevertheless, his aching face buried in her lap in hopes for alleviation her gentle hands could provide.

He leaves her and her bar after a while, eyes puffed up and sniffing, his hood back on his head as he heads out. He’ll have to return to Helios eventually, he has a tight schedule since Jack will be back soon, but he still has some time to clear his head. She knows it too, so Moxxi sees him off with a sad smile and a friendly advice, “Hubris is the downfall of a person, but humility is no better.”

The third time is the charm, and they see each other in conditions that are much different when they meet all these years later. Timothy is working for the CEO of the biggest company around, but it’s not Hyperion anymore. The guy who goes by the humble name of Rhys is a much better boss than Jack could even dream of becoming; and he knows how much Timothy has suffered in the hands of the said man, having housed him in his head in the form of a distorted AI. So it’s no surprise when Rhys sends Timothy to Moxxi with an offer: Come open up shop in Serenity, the city we built over Opportunity as Atlas, for a better future. Flashy, just like the young CEO himself, if you ask Timothy, but both men know it’ll make Moxxi interested; they’re asking her for her bar and her mechanic excellency alike, after all.

So, here he stands, in the middle of Moxxi’s bar up on Sanctuary with Brick and Mordecai sent to accompany him by Lilith; they still don’t trust him after all these years, and he can’t really blame them. He doesn’t mind their presence either, it keeps the curious residents of the floating city away from him; no questions about his face or voice dared to be asked. When he sees her, he’s as stupefied as he was all those years ago on Elpis; his clothes worn off from age and violence just like his face, but Moxxi seems unchanged as opposed to him with her lovely purple dress worshipping her curves and with her electric blue eyes.

She seems surprised to see him, because of all the years they remained apart without communication or because he’s brave enough to set foot in Lilith’s city, he does not know. He bets on both as he settles in a bar chair, the other vault hunters sitting on either side of him like menacing bouncers (who’s protecting who, and from whom at this point? He just doesn’t know). He orders a drink he knows he won’t touch, he’s not really into alcohol (Jack called him “a pansy” along with many other insulting slurs in the past for it); plus, the sight in front of him and the mission he’s on are much more interesting to him.

“Hey.” he greets her, still feeling a little tongue-tied after all these years. He gives her a genuine smile and offers his hands to her across the counter. Her surprise morphs into joy and she leans to put her hands in his, his order long forgotten. Brick and Mordecai make gagging sounds (especially Mordecai, glaring at him all the while he makes sure how much he hates the scene he’s witnessing. Right, Moxxi’s exes.), but Timothy and Moxxi simply end up giggling at the reaction.

She smiles at him and he can feel his soul being cleansed of his sins with that gesture alone. “It’s been so long.” she whispers and he nods, “What brings you here, Tim?”

“An offer, actually.” Moxxi raises a curious eyebrow and lets out an interested hum. “I work for Atlas now, and the CEO himself has a proposal. Gosh, don’t look at me like that, Moxxi; unlike the last one, this one isn’t a narcissistic asshole with a high killstreak.” That gets a laugh out of the three of them and Timothy counts that as a win. “He wants you to set up a bar in Serenity, he thinks it’ll be a good way to draw people to the city. If you’re interested in an Atlas city, it can’t be bad, right?” He smiles at her, quirking an eyebrow. “He also wants you to open a shop that’s similar to uh…” he coughs, embarrassed, “To Scooter’s.” The hands in his grasp tense for a moment, a look passing Moxxi’s eyes. “Rhys knew Scooter, says he was one helluva guy, talented and fun and all that.” He gives Moxxi’s hands an encouraging squeeze and the bar owner graces him with a proud smile.

“That’s Scooter, alright, that’s my son.” she replies, head held high and not a tear shed. She’s a strong woman, and Timothy knows he’s fallen hard for her yet again. She relaxes, looking into Timothy’s eyes, “That’s what your CEO wants. What do you want?”

The ex-doppelgänger smiles at her with a loving expression, “I just want you to be happy.” (“Booooooooooriiiiiiiing!” Brick moans in the background.)

But Moxxi gives him a matching smile, and he’s over the moon, “How about… We talk about this over dinner?”

Timothy sputters, along with the other vault hunters, “D-dinner?” Ah, there he is, the shy, polite guy she met all those years ago. She chuckles, “A big offer like that can’t be discussed over alcohol, can it? Plus, I really, really missed you.”

That deep, sultry tone, that voluptuous smile he came to associate with her, those electric blue eyes darkening with promises not said aloud… That does it for him, and he ends up feeling embarrassed once again, crimson dusting his cheeks like it did the moment they met all those years ago. “I-“ he clears his throat, ‘cause wow, it’s getting hot in here and his throat is perched, “I’d love that, Moxxi.”

Two weeks later, Moxxi sets up two shops in Serenity, enrapturing the residents easily with her bar and mechanic shop alike. She works awfully close to apartment complex Timothy resides in, but nobody makes a mention of it.

And if she ends up unofficially moving in with him eventually, sharing his food, his shower, his bed and his love, none of them is complaining.

 This request is great and you’re great, @torrarina!

[dragonbagel]

Bonded - Part 1

Part of an A/B/O concept I came up with with the help of @battytastic, hope y’all enjoy

It was 10 p.m., and Rhys still wasn’t at dinner.

In the three hours since their reservation at the restaurant had come around, Jack had already finished quite a few baskets of bread and nearly an entire bottle of wine on his own. He’d planned this dinner with Rhys over a month ago after the omega had been rambling about the restaurant practically non-stop, and it would’ve been an understatement to say that it had been driving Jack insane.

To be fair, the table he was sitting at had a killer view of Elpis, not to mention the brilliant stars expanding out in all directions. The only sight that Jack would rather see was Rhys; or, better yet, Rhys leaning against the large, glowing window. Instead, what was supposed to by Rhys’ chair remained empty, and the ice in what would have been his glass of water had long melted.

Jack pulled out his phone to send Rhys another text, his anxiety steadily growing. Sure, Rhys worked late sometimes; being head of programming at Hyperion gave him no shortage of paperwork. But the fact that he hadn’t so much as sent him a response about needing to take a rain check on the dinner made Jack far too uneasy. He didn’t want to give up the table (even top alpha Handsome Jack had gotten waitlisted), but the paranoia bubbling inside him was unbearable.

He waved a waiter over, paying for the wine and leaving an overly generous tip before shrugging on his jacket and heading out the door. He cut through the Hub of Heroism, which was all but empty because of the time, and headed towards Rhys’ office. He slid his phone back out as he waited for the elevator to take him to the correct floor, his frown deepening at the continued lack of reply.

The lights were off when Jack reached the programming floor, emergency fluorescents buzzing to life after being motion activated and illuminating the space. Jack poked his head into Rhys’ office, the faint traces of the omega’s scent that only Jack was able to pick up on sending a shiver down his spine. However, Rhys himself was nowhere to be found; his computer was booted down, his bag and jacket missing. He must’ve left the office.

So where the hell was he?

Jack took to pacing the office, a list of just about a million reasons for getting blown off floating around in his head. Was Rhys mad at him for something? That wasn’t likely, considering the omega had no qualms about yelling at Jack to his face instead of acting petty. Maybe he’d just forgotten about dinner. Yeah, that had to be it. Jack decided to go with this option, since it made him feel a little less shitty about himself. Rhys was probably at home sleeping, and therefore not checking his phone.

Jack sighed, exiting the office and stepping into the elevator that would take him to the penthouse floor. He was never going to let Rhys live this one down, and the thought of Rhys’ frustrated pout caused Jack to smirk to himself. He took his key out of his pocket as he approached the apartment door, sliding it into the lock and authenticating it with a retinal scan.

“Rhys?” he called, flipping the lights on. “You here?”

To Jack’s disappointment, his apartment was empty as well. He sighed, glancing at his still-blank ECHOcomm screen before deciding he might as well give it a rest. Rhys clearly didn’t want to talk to him, and as much as he wanted to, it wasn’t Jack’s place to intervene. Rhys was an adult, after all. Besides, after he’d changed into some sweats to sleep in, he’d give Rhys’ friend Vaughn a call to at least make sure Rhys was alright.

Jack froze the instant he pushed open the door to his walk-in closet. He inhaled deeply, a thick scent engulfing him. It smelled good, warm, inviting. It smelled like Rhys.

“Babe?” Jack asked, turning the lights on in the small room and illuminating his clothes. “Is that you?”

A small whine was all Jack needed in the affirmative.

“Why are you in the closet?” Jack said, a small grin flicking onto his face. “Everyone already knows we’re dating, pumpkin.”

Jack usually would’ve gotten no less than a sock in the arm and a frustrated “shut up” from Rhys for that, but he received no answer.

“Rhysie?” he asked again, his voice softer now. Something wasn’t right.

There was a rustling of clothes in the corner of the closet, and Jack slowly pushed the hangers to the side to reveal Rhys, who was trying to back himself as far into the corner as possible. Jack spotted blood on him, and he immediately dropped to his knees.

“Rhys? Babe?” Jack said, desperation overtaking him at the sight of the bloodied omega. “What happened to you?”

Rhys shook his head, something fierce in his eyes despite the instinctual hiding that his body was forcing him to attempt. “Not mine,” he said roughly, looking down at the crimson staining his dress shirt.

Jack nodded, although his nerves were barely calmed. He sniffed the air again, his nose teasing out one deliciously familiar scent. “Rhys, are you in heat?”

Rhys didn’t answer, still focused on making himself as small as possible.

“Honey, you’re not supposed to be due for another three weeks,” Jack said worriedly. Despite how on-board his body was with the idea of a few days of nonstop fucking, he knew something was very, very wrong.

“Not,” Rhys said quietly, his words almost unintelligible. “Not my heat.” Jack stared at him. “Sure smells like it.”

He inhaled again, trying to find any sort of indicator other than Rhys’ overwhelming heat smell. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except…except there was the stink of another alpha on him.

Jack pulled Rhys close to him, who clumsily fell into his lap with a yelp. He tried to scramble out of Jack’s grasp, but when it became clear that the alpha wouldn’t be letting him go anytime soon, he surrendered in defeat.

He felt Jack’s warm hands carefully unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off of him to reveal his pale chest. Jack’s eyes roamed over the swirls of his blue tattoo and, upon seeing that blood had most definitely come from another non-Rhys source, he felt another wave of relief.

Rhys sat up and began to rub himself against Jack’s chest, burrowing his face into his shirt and inhaling his scent. He’d come into the closet in the first place because of that smell, Jack’s smell, the one that was safe. And now that he had the real thing, he could finally feel protected. Not that he could ever completely be protected, not after….

“Cupcake, you know I love you, I really do, but I need you to stop trying to crawl into my clothes and tell me what happened,” Jack said, his heart heavy at the way Rhys’ face fell.

The omega stared into Jack’s eyes for a moment before he finally spoke. “I stabbed him.”

Jack recoiled in surprise, raising his eyebrows. “You what?”

“I stabbed him,” Rhys repeated, his tone flat.

“Yeah, I got that part,” Jack said, chuckling. “Who did you stab?”

Rhys didn’t respond, trying with a renewed effort to bury himself in Jack’s clothes, in his scent.

“Was it an alpha?” Jack asked, and Rhys’ flinch was all the answer he needed. “I can smell it on you, y'know.”

Rhys began to whimper, sending uncomfortable chills down Jack’s spine. Sure, he sometimes got whiney during heats, but that was completely hormone-fueled. The Rhys that he knew was cocky, smart and nearly as much of an asshole as Jack himself, although he tended to be a bit outwardly kinder.

He pressed his face into Rhys’ now exposed shoulder, scenting across his skin. His heat scent got stronger as he moved closer to Rhys’ neck, as did the scent of the other alpha. The mixture of the two smells was making Jack murderous. He moved to turn Rhys over so that he could inspect the omega’s back for any sort of injury, but Rhys scooted himself out of Jack’s grasp.

“The hell are you doing, kiddo?” Jack said, his concern giving way to anger. Rhys looked just as confused about what he was doing, trying to make eye contact with Jack as his body refused to allow him to. Everything in him screamed to crawl back into that corner, get his alpha to protect him.

He swallowed. His alpha.

Although the mental torment was hellish, the pain in Jack’s eyes was enough to allow Rhys to fight his biology for a few moments. He dragged himself back over towards Jack, who hadn’t moved in fear of scaring Rhys. He intertwined the mechanical fingers of his right hand with those of Jack’s, holding onto him tightly as he turned around to show him his back.

The alpha appeared confused for a moment, the milky white expanse of Rhys’ back looking bare as usual.

Then he noticed the red gashes marring the back of his neck.

“Rhys,” Jack hissed, his tone taking on a territorial quality as he bent to inspect Rhys’ neck more closely.

Rhys just shivered, willing himself to stay still.

“Is this,” Jack said, trailing a finger lightly down the back of Rhys’ neck and causing the omega to shudder. “Did they…?”

Rhys didn’t even need to answer for Jack to know that his suspicions were right. His bonding site was covered in blood, Rhys’ blood, and Jack saw the reddening indents of bite marks.

Fuck. Sure, he and Rhys had talked about bonding, but they’d never seriously considered it. It was a huge responsibility, and they knew they both had to be completely confident in their decision. Now, though, Jack’s conscience was flooded with guilt. If he had agreed to bond with Rhys earlier, maybe they wouldn’t be having this conversation in the middle of the night on the floor of Jack’s closet. Maybe Rhys wouldn’t be bonded to someone else.

“I didn’t want to,” Rhys said, so quietly that Jack wasn’t sure he’d heard him at first. “He snuck up behind me, forced himself on me. And I stabbed him and got him off of me. But it,” Rhys paused, swallowing thickly. “It was too late.”

He felt tears welling in his eyes, and he pressed his face back against Jack’s chest. He didn’t want Jack to see him like this, scared and confused and alone, because the bond was screaming at him in a way he hadn’t even known was possible to get to his alpha right away, never mind the safe one embracing him now. It was telling him that Jack wasn’t enough, that he was a terrible person if he wasn’t with his true bond mate.

It made him want to rip his skin off.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?” Jack asked, soothing Rhys as he fidgeted uncomfortably. “I could’ve helped take care of you.”

Rhys shook his head at the memories. “Too much. Couldn’t think.”

Jack could see the guilt written plain as day across Rhys’ face, and it struck him that Rhys’ body didn’t physically have a problem with the bonding. If what he’d heard was true, the mere act of bonding, whether voluntary or not, could send an omega into a blissed, scatterbrained state, not unlike a heat.

Jack now realized that was the source of the scent that was still deliciously enveloping him. He forced himself to exhale deeply, clearing his mind. “Come on,” Jack said, standing and extending his hand to Rhys. “Let me get your neck cleaned up.”

Rhys nodded and took Jack’s hand, his skin abnormally warm. He wobbled as he stood, head spinning with vertigo. Fuck, what was happening? He barely registered that Jack was leading him out of the closet towards the bathroom, stuck in a daze. The only indicator that he’d changed locations was the sharp change in smell from that of Jack’s to the lemon air freshener stuck to the bathroom wall.

“Alright, let’s see it,” Jack said, turning Rhys so that he was facing the bathroom mirror with Jack behind him and Rhys’ lower half pressing into the countertop. It made him feel trapped, nervous; it made him feel more terrified than he had in a long, long time.

Jack held a washcloth under the faucet for a moment before wringing it out and gently pressing it against the skin of Rhys’ back. The omega felt goosebumps creep out across his skin, both at the cold water and the contact. But it was mostly the water’s freezing temperature, of course, because surely Jack’s touch wasn’t something that Rhys was afraid of.

Jack was careful as he wiped the dried blood from Rhys’ upper back, the way in which the omega was fidgeting not escaping his notice. He couldn’t blame him; what Rhys had gone through that night was a trauma that Jack could never even begin to comprehend. But damnit, he was going to make it better somehow, he had to.

He brought the washcloth closer to the wound on Rhys’ neck, hoping that it wouldn’t look quite as ghastly once the blood staining it was washed away. Rhys let out a strangled noise as the cloth brushed over his bonding site, somewhere between a pleasured moan and a terrified squawk.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Jack said soothingly as he continued to lightly dab. Rhys simply bit his lip.

As Rhys’ nearly unbearable agitation grew, so did Jack’s anger. The bite marks were now clearly visible, unnaturally long and deep in what appeared to have been the result of a struggle. Forcibly bonding someone wasn’t just unethical, it was illegal. It was also basically unheard of, considering the rarity of omegas. Jack had only met a few throughout the course of his life, although never for longer than the few moments it took to conduct a business meeting. They tended to live sheltered, high-class lives, considering the dangers that their endotype brought with it. It had taken Rhys a long while to reveal to Jack that he was an omega, and even then he made sure to hide anything that might identify him as one when he went out in public.

“Rhys,” Jack said, and the omega’s eyes flicked up to meet his in the mirror. “I’m going to have to disinfect it.”

Rhys’ eyes widened, and he seemed to shrink even further into himself. “It shouldn’t need to…”

Jack frowned, placing one hand on Rhys’ shoulder as the other grabbed a bottle of antiseptic spray from next to the sink. He wouldn’t call himself an expert on omega biology, but he had done some reading once Rhys had trusted him enough to tell him that he was not, in fact, a beta, as Jack had originally suspected. Apparently, if Rhys had bonded consensually, the linked alpha’s saliva would heal the bite wound. But the bond wasn’t consensual, and the linked alpha was nowhere to be found. There was just Jack.

Rhys hissed in pain as Jack applied the antiseptic to the raw flesh, the burning sensation infinitely magnified by the sensitivity of the bonding site.

“It’s okay,” Jack soothed, layering a bandage overtop the injury to help it heal more quickly. “I’m done now.”

Rhys nodded, wriggling himself out from between Jack and the bathroom counter.

“Thanks,” he said, forcing himself to smile. “I’m, uh, gonna go home now.”

Jack’s encouraging grin faltered. “You’re leaving?”

Rhys averted his gaze, heading towards the apartment door while keeping his neck angled away from Jack. “I need some time alone.”

Jack bit his lip. “I get that, Rhysie, I do,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I just want to make sure that you’re safe.”

Rhys didn’t reply, a low whine in his throat. As much as he knew Jack’s words should comfort him, they just…weren’t. Everything about Jack suddenly seemed off-putting, especially his scent. That alone freaked him out, considering that he was usually all but addicted to the smell of the alpha.

“I’m sorry Jack, but I really need to go.”

Jack didn’t want to let Rhys out of his sight, but if the pleading look on Rhys’ face was anything to go by, forcing Rhys to stay with him would only make things worse.

“You’ll text me when you get home?”

Rhys nodded, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Of course.”

Jack gave him another smile as the omega pulled a shirt on, one of his own that he’d left at Jack’s apartment another time he’d stayed over. He then grabbed a bottle of Jack’s cologne and sprayed copious amounts over himself, paying close attention to his neck. Jack realized he was masking his scent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jack asked, watching as Rhys eventually backed out of the doorway.

Rhys snorted. “Come on, Jack; you know this company would fall apart without me.”

Jack laughed at that, blowing a kiss at the omega as he gently closed the door. They’d figure this out, he knew they would. He’d spend all night researching if that’s what it would take to fix this mess.

If only Rhys could be so optimistic.

[stetervault]

I'm new to the steter fandom, can you rec some of your favourite or fan favourite fics?

Ugh there’s just so many, but this is a question I’m always willing to answer XD I’ll try to rec fics from a variety of writers, and if you like them, you can check to see if they’ve written others :)

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he’ll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn’t know who this kid is, but he’s cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He’s not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn’t really mind.

it’s not the color i came in by nezstorm

Stiles is a bit of an anomaly among the Omegas he knows, or everyone on the spectrum really.

For him, heats are about comfort and safety, and not at all about sex.

Baby Stilinski-Hale by Triangulum

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Peter says. Stiles just shrugs. “Are you going to tell me why, or do I have to guess?” Stiles would love to glare at him and snark back like they always do, but her nerves are just too frayed and she doesn’t have it in her. Peter seems to sense this and frowns, his face morphing into one of concern. “Stiles..?”

He takes a few steps closer, slowly as if he’s trying not to startle her and that makes her want to let out a hysterical laugh, but she keeps it in. He sets his hand on her shoulder, the other going to the side of her neck. He frowns at the way her pulse is racing, as if he needs to physically confirm what his ears are already telling him. She lets him touch her, knowing without even needing to think about it that he won’t hurt her. She does let out a bitter little laugh at that. Well, physically he won’t.

“What is it?” he asks and the genuine concern in his voice almost breaks her. He leans down and stares into her eyes, their faces so close, and she sees his nostrils flare. “You smell…different.”

Well, that’s her cue.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispers.

Or

The one where Peter gets Stiles pregnant and is a big old softie about it.

The Devil You Know by Twisted_Mind

He’s so tired, in every way it’s possible to be tired. He tried going for a walk tonight to prevent a panic attack, and ended up being rescued, dazed and bleeding, by Peter Hale. There are so many things wrong with that sentence he doesn’t even know where to start. Panic attacks. Being stuck inside his brain sucking so hard he needed to be alone and moving. The sense of relief that came with crashing into Peter. He shouldn’t be okay with this. He didn’t give Peter permission to sleep in his bed. His dad will be home soon. Peter’s more than a decade older than him. Peter can’t be trusted.

But he’s tired, and this feels so, so good.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it’s turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

The World That Is Not Ours by Ragga

”Are you sure?” Noah asked as he stared at the plush Claudia was holding. It was a rather scary-looking thing if he had to describe it with just one word. It was some sort of a monster, he thought, and not a wolf like the tag called it. Its hair was slightly coarse, not silky smooth like children’s toys usually were, and a sort of a dark colour; not black but not brown either, just a muddy shade of dark. Its body shape was also rather interesting. It seemed almost disfigured with its back and legs twisted and its snout was long with sharp-looking teeth (which actually weren’t, sharp that is, thankfully). But even those traits weren’t the one Noah objected to. No, that honour belonged to the shining red eyes that seemed to stare into his soul.

“Stiles is going to love him.”

Eventually (I’ll Crash Into You) by ToAStranger

Derek pushes Stiles away to keep him safe.

Stiles more than just leaves.

You’ve Got Me by Inell

Stiles arrives home earlier than expected and finds someone sleeping in his bed.

Baby Boy by SushiOwl

What the heck is FetLife?

Stiles is too curious for his own good, and he can’t help himself, so he joins a website advertising to be a good place for “kinksters.” He just wants to be nosy and see what total strangers are up to. Then he meets Peter, who wants to be called Daddy.

Could Stiles be his baby boy?

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Take Care of Me by Mysenia

Prompt: It was so hard to choose on that list so I won’t instead I’ll go with W and the pairing Peter & Stiles. Peter to Stiles “I take care of you because you’re Pack.” Along with or in place of that one if it doesn’t work for you (still Peter to Stiles.) “I’ve failed you once I won’t do it again.”

According to plan by FeelingsDusk

The plan was very simple: go back in time, kill Kate, kill Gerard, never ever make contact with his parents, try to find a place within the Hale pack or not, but either way, live the rest of his life displaced and without the people he loves.

Of course, as it always is with him these days, nothing goes according to plan.

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills by Guede (Stetopher)

Stiles is a sphinx, and he’s winging his way to visit his buddy Scott when a storm drops him in Beacon Hills, the craziest, crankiest, coldest place ever. And somehow, he ends up with a bunch of werewolves.

Note: Bestiality warning is because the version of sphinx here is lion-shaped from waist down, and I don’t know how else to tag that.

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

At the End of All Things (What’s Another Sin?) by Ceris_Malfoy

The first year of her solitary existence had been all about survival.

The second year was learning how to want to survive.

And then the wolf arrives.

The Terrible Things We Do (For Love) by Rrrowr

Being a demon, he’s seen some of the pretty nasty things that humans are willing to do for love. Things that, were he still alive (and human), would make him hesitate to be in a relationship with anyone lest his partner start getting some funny ideas. That said—

“This seems a little desperate for a kid your age,” he says to Stiles.

A welcome arrow by 1001cranes

The wedding is small and grim, because Stiles is being carted off to parts unknown, married to a thirty-something year old dude who wants to marry a seventeen year old dude - totally not creepy at all.

Hold Me Down by sneksonaplane

Waking up in Peter Hale’s bed was weird. Waking up in Peter Hale’s body was even weirder. Stiles had been disoriented and confused when he’d found himself in a plush, king sized bed in an unfamiliar bedroom instead of in his own room (and seriously, why did Peter even need a king sized bed? Why would anyone need a bed that big?) It had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the body he was inhabiting, one that was shorter but more defined than his own, and older, and kind of hot.

OR

The one where Stiles and Peter swap bodies, Peter relives his adolescence, Stiles suffers, and then suffers a little less when he discovers Peter’s fetlife profile where he’s listed as a submissive seeking a daddy.

Cast in Stone by wynnebat

To think, people would kill for this.

run away and hide with you by Green

Stiles has been taking care of himself for far too long.

Can I Tattoo a Baby? by Elpie (Horribibble)

Before he inked his first tattoo, Stiles Stilinski had filled a dozen sketchbooks.Before he knew what he wanted to do with his life, Stiles Stilinski had a kid to take care of.Before he threw in the towel completely, Stiles Stilinski met Peter Hale.

Life is made up almost exclusively of happy accidents. (And some really terrifying childhood memories.) But that’s okay.

(Really they’re all kind of morons, but the Buffy style asskicking doesn’t hurt.)

Waves that rolled you under by radishwine

AU in which Peter has the good sense to get the hell out of town after killing Laura. He drives up the Pacific coast to the old Hale cabin and stays for a while.

Beyond The Shore by SmartKIN

When Peter Hale leaves Beacon Hills and moves into his family’s lake house, all he expects to find is solitude and freedom.He definitely doesn’t expect the loud-mouthed, too-pretty-for-his-own-good merman who breaks into his house in the middle of the night, unable to curb his curiosity.

Lucky Penny (Tastes Like Copper on Your Tongue) by pibroch (littleblackdog)

When Peter woke up, he spent a good fifteen or twenty seconds earnestly wishing that whatever had hit him had the courtesy to kill him outright. Because this? This was bullshit.

AKA the time I decided to give Peter all the nice things, but made him get hit by a car first. Like you do.

Naughty Hookers (Swathed in Wool) by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter’s just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Red String verse by gryvon

Peter had given up hope of ever finding his soulmate until the red string on his finger leads him to a four-year-old. He’s going to Hell. Or jail. Or both.

If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out by mia6363

Commander Stilinski looked like he fell out of a propaganda video, his armor still smoking as he pulled off his helmet and handed it off to First Officer Argent. He had a few bruises down his neck but his smile was bright.

“Glad to see you safe and sound, Mr. Hale. I’d hate for Derek to lose a member of his family.”

“I told you,” Derek snapped at his superior, “he’s not worth this, Commander.”

There you go, enjoy ^_^