#why don’t you try actually watching Star Wars?

[heyclickadee]

Because I still think they’re bringing Tech back one way or another (in the immortal words of the late great Kanan Jarrus, “I’m being optimistic.”) and because I actually do need an explanation for why CX-2 was like that (because you cannot tell me we spent between 30 and 55 minutes, most of which was spent with just us watching him do stuff and not him interacting with the batch, on a symbolic construct—even if it’s not Tech, that’s an entire character at that point), here is another “CX-2 was Tech, but not physically” theory:

1. Hemlock captured and attempted to CX Tech. But, Tech being Tech, he resisted for months, and even once mostly CXd retained quite a bit of his personality in a way Hemlock found both interesting and a little worrying. Because of this, Tech became something of a special project. This is one of the reasons Hemlock never used Tech to threaten Omega—he wanted this particular CX-candidate under lock and key, and he thought that Tech had just enough personality while still in progress that he might relapse if he saw Omega, should Omega find her way to wherever Tech was being held the way she found her way down to Crosshair’s cell.

2. Since Tech was a special project, since finally well and truly CXing him (or at least getting him subdued enough to be under control, which I think is more likely) took time and effort, and since CXs don’t exactly have the best survival rate (Rex implies that he’s run into a slew of them, meaning they all probably died), Hemlock didn’t really want to send CX-Tech out just to have him die in two seconds. Alternatively: Hemlock CXd Tech just to see if he could work out a way to CX a defective clone, since it wasn’t working with Crosshair, but Tech was too badly injured to be sent out into the field without extensive cybernetics (if, say, his legs were toast after the fall or if he had a spinal chord injury that caused him chronic pain) that Hemlock didn’t want to spend money on only for him to die out in the field anyway. Or, maybe, he wanted to keep playing with Tech, because he’s Royce Hemlock and he’s a monster.

Then, either while looking for a solution for what to do with a CX project he didn’t want to waste, or as a motivation for why he worked so hard to CX Tech in the first place, Hemlock looked through Clone Force 99’s military records at one point or another and was struck by how effective a team of people with unique traits could be while working in together as a single unit. And, being the terrible mad scientist Silicon Valley startup CEO that he is, Hemlock decided to see if he could take that concept to a horrifying extreme.

3. So what he ends up doing with Tech is not that dissimilar from what Wat Tambor does with Echo. CX-Tech’s unconscious somewhere, down at the bottom of Tantiss, heavily brainwashed and sedated but still himself somewhere deep down, hooked up to some kind of apparatus, and Hemlock started using him to try to “drive” the other CXs with some kind of Avatar-style link. It becomes part of Hemlock’s updated CX process. That way the CXs can be really, truly interchangeable. (Bonus points if Tech was also the partially successful midichlorian transfer and Hemlock is taking advantage of that somehow to make this work. It’s bullshit Star Wars fantasy science—don’t think about it too hard.)

4. Though Hemlock may have tried this with others, the first CXs we see that he’s tried this with are CX-1 and CX-2. It marginally works with CX-1, to the point that Tech is there as an influence, but isn’t really in charge. He’s influential enough, however, that that’s why CX-1 reacts to Crosshair the way he does. CX-1 does know Crosshair from various conditioning sessions, but the weird beef CX-1 has with Crosshair, “If you want answers so badly, then why aren’t you asking him? Isn’t that right, brother?” and that weird warning he gives them, is all that little bit of Tech that’s sitting there in the back of CX-1’s head.

With CX-2, however, the link works so well that that’s just CX-Tech in another body.

5. Sidebar, but in this theory, it’s CX-1 who’s staring Crosshair down in Shadows of Tantiss. Or, it’s Tech staring Crosshair down through CX-1’s eyes. (One thing that has always bugged me about that shot is that the pose is 100% Tech, and we’re visually being told that it’s Tech with the armor and the lines on the wall, but that guy’s legs are proportionally just a little too short for it to BE Tech. Which could be explained multiple other ways, of course—Tech could have cybernetic legs that are shorter now, Hemlock could have gone in and surgically made his legs shorter to make him blend in with the other CXs better, they didn’t have the budget to make a Tech-specific CX model, who knows. But—I still like it being Tech without it physically being him in this shot.)

6. Another sidebar, but in this theory the reason the CX tracker isn’t something that will be picked up by a scanner is because the signal or link or whatever it is that Hemlock’s using to enable CX-Tech to drive the other CXs IS the tracker. Or the link is being established through the other CX’s inhibitor chips (which a scanner won’t pick up) or something. And when they die, the tracking signal goes dead, too.

7. Extra sidebar: Hemlock was originally going to use Crosshair for this. These were the “other plans despite his resistance to re-education” he mentions to Omega in Confined. Crosshair may or may not know this. Hemlock may have also point blank told Crosshair that he put Tech through the CX process and that Tech is “dead” in an attempt to break Crosshair, despite that not being literally true (in much the same way Wat Tambor said, “Your friend is dead,” about Echo to Rex in the TBB arc). Which just wigs out Crosshair even more when multiple CXs and especially CX-2 show up and start acting like Tech.

8. This was Hemlock’s plan for the Worst Batch CXs—basically, to have a group of CXs with unique traits all being controlled by a single mind. That mind being Tech, who he’s already got successfully “driving” CX-2.

9. Fast forward to the finale, Hemlock lets the whole worst batch out at once. This ends up being why the Worst Batch CXs have no personality, why Hemlock hesitated on sending them out at all (he wasn’t sure they would all even operate at the same time, and was so, so smug when they did), why CX-2 has so much less personality in the finale and only manages that one line, why they aren’t that big of a threat once the batch gets backup and aren’t being caught by surprise; why the worst batch CXs are so hard to kill and keep getting up, zombie-like, after they’ve been shot, why that one guy who gets his helmet knocked off walks around like he’s sleepwalking, and why the sword CX hands the sword over to CX-2. CX-2 gets more attention than the others because he’s the CX that Tech’s been driving the longest, so it takes less of an effort, but all of them collectively activated at the same time? Tech is having to drive all of them, and he’s just one guy. He’s stretched too thin and it’s almost too much to keep them moving. So they’re barely conscious and only half aware of what’s happening to them.

10. This would means that every single POV shot we got from either a tube or from a CX—because we get two from tubes, several POV shots from CX-2 including in the finale, and one significant one from CX-1—in season three is from Tech’s perspective, because he’s looking through all of them to one extent or another.

11. Whether some of the CXs survived or not—and I hope some of them did—Tech coming back and recovering in a later (possible follow up) showwould mean getting a some in-universe sympathy for the CXs that was mentioned in interviews but sorely lacking in the final product. They still would have been people under all of that, Tech would have “operated” them all to their deaths, and Tech would have been in their heads going through all of that with them as they died or got hurt. All of them, at the same time. And he would have been CX-2 (just operating in a body that wasn’t his) and done everything CX-2 did. That’s a lot to deal with. Bonus points if Tech mentioning that he was all of the CXs in the final fight and being in multiple bodies at once leads to Echo talking about what it’s like to scomp in from an internal perspective. Even if it’s just one line.

(For the record, I would actually quite like it if Tech was just CX-2 straight up and survived being impaled, and if the explanation was just, “CX-2 had to “die” and the pod that kept turning him into this had to be killed for Tech to start living again,” because it’s VERY Star Wars, but I’d be okay with this, too.)

[hannagoldworthy]

So. This got photographed, because I finally blocked the IP address (bye Felicia) but I can’t stop laughing at how little this “anon” has bothered to disguise her writing style. Oh, this asker uses the word Kenobist like it’s a clever insult and writes like Sheev Palpatine having a quick fap over his own perceived superiority between meetings, just WhO cOulD iT bE?

(Golly gee whiz, Domina, that “block” didn’t last very long. I’d bet my left buttcheek you don’t know where the block button is, just as you don’t know how to work the tag or content filters.)

But thanks for confirming that you’ve never darkened the doorstep of any university with a decent engineering department, if any university at all. Nor have you ever spoken with an engineer, because if you had, you’d realize that a decent majority of engineers have Big Himbo Energy. The engineering fraternity house at my college looked like the house in Flubber before the dean made them take their little machines down. I briefly dated an engineering student with a 4.1 Honors GPA who bought a shitbox car and souped it up to drive in drag races on weekends; I broke up with him after the first date because he drove the car up to my parents’ house and showed it off to my entire family while it was literally smoking and leaking oil on their driveway. A meteorologist - basically a weather engineer - who worked with my father once ran out, bare-headed, into a storm of golfball-sized hail because, and I quote him verbatim, “HOT DAMN I WAS RIGHT, LEMME GET A SAMPLE!”

And…you’re saying that’s NOT Anakin Skywalker? “Modified the Twilight until it was practically unflyable for anyone but him” Anakin? “Ran face first into a lightning attack because he didn’t think his strategy through” Anakin? “Did not realize his wife was pregnant after regularly SpaceTiming her for months, lifting her up and twirling her, AND full-body hugging her” Anakin? “Had a prophetic dream where Padme was still having labor pains after giving birth to one baby and interpreted that to mean she was dying and not GIVING BIRTH TO THE OTHER TWIN” Anakin? THAT Anakin, from the high canon Lucas movies, which you have most definitely watched front to back?

You underestimate the power of your own blorbo, Domina. Anakin Skywalker can be both a mentally unstable himbo AND an engineering prodigy, and in fact, HE IS. And I would think that his number-one stan would be the first to point out that those two very different facets of his personality lend depth to his character. But, then again, I am talking to the idiot who drags Obi-Wan Kenobi into every conversation, even in other fandoms, and then accuses everyone ELSE of being obsessed, so I suppose I should not expect that very basic level of perception from you.

Oh, and also? Thanks for that extra boost of motivation! Now my plans to get my computer fixed have been moved up, because I intend to write even MORE Himbokin Skywalker, just to spite you! Mission Failed Successfully, HUZZAH!

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades! 

When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie  the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.

Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones. 

Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t  get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.

The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow. 

Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and watch fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway. 

And he was not disappointed. 

He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not! 

The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait! 

However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would. 

You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet. 

You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol. 

Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway. 

Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back. 

How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him? 

This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie. 

A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~!  So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover. 

As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed. 

Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew. 

Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.

If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.

They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~. 

Taglist

@chroniccorvus

@imperfectbloodmoon

@doc-tooth

@nixie-writes

@riddle-simp

@tired-of-life-86

@blackmageoffandoms

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: star

Steve blinked, the cogs finally sliding into place.

"You're the star! You're the star?"

"Yes! Obviously." The star rolled his eyes. 

He was all idiosyncrasies. Gorgeous but downright snippy. A shock of long dark hair and dark eyes to go with his pale skin. Black tattoos up and down his arms and a heavy silvery cloak shrouding his lithe body.

Steve frowned. "You don't look like a star."

The star scoffed. “Heard that one before.” He muttered before scowling back at Steve. “Well why don’t you tell me then, in your infinite human wisdom, what stars are supposed to look like?”

“I don’t know! Like,” he waved his hand up towards the sky, “like a big clump of burning rock or something. I’m not a fucking astronomer. Why do you look so… human?”

“Why do you look so celestial?” The star raised his wrist to his mouth, trying to chew through the tether Steve had managed to secure him with while he was still getting his bearings, feeling that strange pull, telling him that this human shaped lump at the bottom of this crater was what he was looking for. "Can you take this fucking thing off me?"

"Uh… sorry, no. I can't do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because… well because I promised Nancy I'd bring her back the star as a show of… love?" He sounded more unsure the more he spoke. Back when the star was just a meteor or some dust, this was all so simple but now…

"Some girl has demanded you go out and bring back a fucking captive as a show of love?"

"No, that's- she didn't ask me to do anything!"

Actually thinking about it, Nancy had looked almost resigned when he'd suggested it. And a little sad. Like that wasn't really where she had wanted the conversation to go.

Fuck.

Had she been trying to break up with him?

“So you just decided to go into slavery on your own?”

“No! I- I have a way to send you home after… when I show Nancy what I’ve done for her. When I prove it to her. She won’t want to keep you after… she doesn’t abide by slavery.”

The star huffed, crossing his arms and pulling Steve forward a little with the restraint. He didn’t even seem to notice. “And what if I don’t want to go home?”

“Why wouldn’t you-” Steve stopped. He supposed it wasn’t really his place to ask. “Then I’ll free you, you can do whatever the hell it is you came down here to do.”

The star looked at him, thinking, turning it over in his head with a little side to side motion. "Okay, how about this? We help each other out. You let me go and I promise to come with you back to Nancy and then you help me find what I came down here to find.”

Steve frowned again. He wasn’t sure. The star could be lying to him but Robin always told him he was a great judge of character. And it didn’t seem like this star was going to run away. He wanted something down here, on earth.

“What are you trying to find?”

The star’s face went a little pink at that.

Interesting. 

“I… I’ve been watching humans for hundreds of years, your wars, your hate for each other, your petty differences, the natural disasters that devastate your people. But through all that there always seems to be a thread of love. Even if it’s just one person plucking her sister out of the floodwaters or two lovers on opposite sides of the fight meeting in secret… love is always there and I… I want… that.”

“You came down here to find love?”

The star turned his back on him, embarrassment radiating off of his body in waves. “Yeah. So what if I did?”

How could Steve ever say no to that?

He pulled at the lash around the star’s wrist, allowing it to slip free and dragged it back towards himself.

“Okay.”

The star turned around, his big brown eyes wide in shock. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just like that.”  He held his hand out. “I’m Steve. Do you have a name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before now.”

The star looked down at his hand as he took three steps closer, looking back up at Steve’s face then down again, extending his own hand, slim fingers and all.

“Eddie.”

Nancy had wanted to break up with him as it turned out and hadn’t known how to do it after Steve had adamantly told her he'd travel outside of Hawkins to find her the star.

When he came back to her to tell her he’d found his own love in Eddie on his travels she beamed at him, placing a kiss against his cheek.

“I’m glad." She said. "You deserve it.”

Eddie, who had never come across a ring or necklace at a market stall that he didn’t like, always drawn to the shine. Eddie who had shed the bright almost white silvery cloak for blackened leathers and heavy boots, as dark as the night sky. Eddie, who had gifted Steve a single lock of hair to bring back to Nancy, promising to meet up with him in a few hours, once he’d finished spending all of Steve’s money at the closest bookshop beyond the Gate that separated Faeria from Steve’s world.

Eddie’s lock of hair that Steve now handed over to Nancy who looked into the handkerchief with confusion.

“Steve?”

He looked down.

Eddie’s hair had turned to stardust.

“He can’t cross the Gate.” Steve whispered to himself, horrified before turning and running with everything he had back the way he came, Nancy’s shouts fading out behind him.

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to run through the old cobbled streets, out into the field but just as the Gate came into sight, he saw Eddie on the opposite side round the corner and start walking towards it.

He could do it, he could make it, he could-

“Eddie!” He shouted, stopping Eddie dead in his tracks before his boot could cross the border.

“Ste-?” 

His words were cut off as Steve bodily slammed into him, throwing them both into the grass and away from the Gate.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart.” Eddie groaned, rubbing the back of his head. “That excited to see me?”

“You.” Steve panted, clinging on as tight as he could. “Can’t cross. Gate. Hair. Turned. To. Lump of rock.”

“Oh shit, really?” Eddie ran a hand up and down his back, settling into the grass. “That would have been awkward. And you came to save me?” Eddie sighed, fluttering his eyelashes. Steve could feel it against his cheek. “My hero.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking at Eddie spread out below him, dark curls fanning out around his head and a cheeky grin on his face. He lowered himself down for a kiss, muttering into his mouth “You’re damn right I came to save you. Can’t have anything taking my star away.”

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

@nessieartss i did it again lol

based on this ask and this ask because i couldn't get "rizzless sukuna" out of my head 😭 (and also Maki being one of Sukuna's friends is relevant which is why i tagged that ask)

anyway, please enjoy!!

Edit: part 2!!

---

Sukuna can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches Yuuji from across the courtyard. He watches as his little brother effortlessly jokes with his friends, his face and movements animated enough that they’re clear even from so far away. Yuuji has always been the more charismatic of the two brothers; always the one to make friends first. 

Yuuji throws his head back in laughter, casually throwing his arm around Megumi’s shoulders. Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy in his gut and he can’t stop the grunt that escapes his throat. 

How ridiculous is he? Getting jealous over nothing. It’s laughable. Sukuna doesn’t get jealous! 

Except… the more he watches his little brother interact with Megumi, the more he finds himself wishing that he could hang out with Megumi—

“Oh fuck me,” he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

Sukuna looks up. Maki takes a seat next to him on the steps, a meticulous brow arched in intrigue. He’s quiet for a moment as he rests his elbows on his knees. While he considers Maki to be one of his closest (and one of his only) friends, Sukuna briefly contemplates brushing his inner turmoil aside. This is her cousin, after all. Would she really want to hear about Sukuna’s stupid crush that he barely acknowledges himself?

Ah, fuck it, he thinks and sits up straighter. 

“How do you ask someone out?”

Maki blinks, taken aback by the question. She holds Sukuna’s gaze as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s being serious. Her mouth presses into a thin line.

“Depends on who you’re wanting to ask out,” she responds with a casual shrug. As she reaches up to fix her ponytail, she asks, “Are you saying that you’ve never asked anyone out before?”

Sukuna sniffs and says nothing, running his tongue over his teeth. His attention turns to his nails, examining them for any chips in the nail polish.

“It’s never been relevant before,” Sukuna grumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maki shift. She nods slowly with a hum of acknowledgement. 

“So, who is it?” Maki asks.

“Huh?” 

“The person you want to ask out, who is it?” she asks again.

This time, Sukuna hesitates to answer. He’s never been one to be ashamed of his preferences; he always makes his thoughts clear whether it shows on his face or in his words. Like the time when Sukuna argued that the Star Wars franchise was “extremely overrated” and Yuuji nearly had a heart attack (he still hasn’t let it go).

Finally, with a sigh, Sukuna answers in another grumble, “Fushiguro.”

The silence that stretches out between them is loud. Sukuna thinks for a moment that Maki might have gotten up and left. When he looks to the side, he finds that she’s still sitting there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He fully expects her to start laughing at him, but, she doesn’t. 

Maki continues staring at Sukuna until he narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to tell her to just forget about it and fuck off—

“Oh, you’re actually serious,” she huffs. “For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg.”

Sukuna feels his irritation ebb and he rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would I make a joke like that? There are other things I could use to bully you with. Like your stupid glasses. They don’t fit your face.”

Ignoring the comment, Maki goes on, “Fushiguro isn’t one for extravagance. If you really want to ask him out, you should pull him off to the side and ask him privately. He’d appreciate that.” The bell rings, signaling that it’s time for the next class. Maki and Sukuna get to their feet. 

“Also, it would do you well to work on your tactfulness,” the girl adds over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.

Sukuna flips her off. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for advice anymore.”

He watches as his friend heads back inside before turning his attention back to Megumi who is walking in the opposite direction of his two friends. Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath. 

It’s another few seconds of watching Megumi walk before Sukuna’s feet start moving, carrying him in the same direction and he mentally curses at himself again.

Fuck it. Let’s do this.

[toomuchracket]

birthday sleepover (office nerd!matty x reader smut)

final day of matty35!! happy birthday to my favourite boy. have a fic about watching star wars and shagging afterwards to celebrate!! enjoy <3

“why did we need to rewatch the ending of return of the jedi on dvd? i thought i was doing a good thing cueing them all up on demand for you coming over.”

“no, you were, darling, i appreciate it so much, but i really need to show you this bonus feature,” matty kisses your head, before abandoning you completely to stand next to the tv and gesture to the force ghosts appearing to luke skywalker onscreen. “look - different anakin.”

you squint. “what? how?”

“they retconned the digital edition for continuity - added the guy from the prequels to the dvd box set release in 2004,” your boyfriend explains, eyes lighting up in that adorable way they do when he’s passionate about something; naturally, it’s how he looks at you, most of the time. “that’s the original guy, there. same guy who played unmasked vader in the him and luke reconciliation scene, you know. isn’t that weird?”

“yeah.” you’re not lying.

matty moves back to sit next to you on the bed, tugging you onto his lap and gently holding your face. he kisses you, soft and slow and long, and you can feel his affection for you in it. “thank you for marathoning the original trilogy with me, darling. best birthday i’ve had in a long time.”

you pout. “not best ever?”

“that would be the tour of st. james park when i was ten,” he grins. “but this is a close second.”

“i’ll take it,” you kiss his nose. “wait… so if i was to take you on a tour of st. james park…”

“stop it right now, i might cum.”

“oh, for god’s sake,” you facepalm, trying your best not to grin while matty cracks up beside you. “let’s 86 that idea, then.”

“yeah. and we can do that number take away 17 together instead.”

“what… oh,” you smirk at your giggling boyfriend. “then you really will cum.”

“so will you,” matty leans in to kiss your neck. “you know how much i love it when you sit on my face.”

“fuck,” you can't help moaning at the thought of his tongue slicing through you, flicking against your clit with reckless abandon as you writhe on that pretty face of his; the way it's currently soothing the bite he just left on your neck isn't helping, either. “is it bedtime yet?”

matty presses kisses up across your neck to your lips - when they meet yours, you slip your tongue into his mouth, and the whine he lets out completely liquifies your insides and sends them straight into your underwear. “yeah… wait, babe,” he pants against your lips. “we haven’t let maggie outside tonight yet.”

“oh, right,” you look around the room, slightly groggy, for the puppy you were convinced was asleep on her bed by the radiator. “she’s not in here?”

“think she left halfway through the empire strikes back. reckon she was bored,” he looks at you pointedly, smile threatening to break out. “takes after her mother in that regard.”

“i wasn’t bored!”

your boyfriend kisses your nose. “sweetheart, i saw your eyes glazing over like five separate times,” he kisses all over your face, dragging a giggle from your lips with each press of his own. “but you stayed awake through all of them, and you didn’t complain, and i think you deserve head as a thank you.”

“you know, baby, you don’t actually need an excuse to eat me out.”

“yeah, i do,” matty blushes, hiding his face in your neck. “because i’d just have my head between your legs all the time if i didn’t.”

you laugh, holding the back of his head and cuddling him. “well, the sooner you take the dog out, the sooner you can come back and do that to me.”

the speed with which matty practically shoves you off his lap and runs out of the bedroom is comical. he laughs when you smack his ass, turning back to blow you a kiss before running towards the living room, shouting for maggie. you roll out of bed, darting over to softly close the door behind him then making a beeline for your wardrobe.

excitement - and slight nerves, you must admit - building in your stomach, you reach behind a stack of band tees on the wardrobe shelf, standing on tiptoe to grab the paper bag you stashed there a week ago. moving quickly, acutely aware that you have limited time before matty returns, you pull the lingerie from the bag, barely even looking at it before you’re yanking your (well, matty’s) t-shirt off and replacing it with the fancy bra. only once you’re fully dressed in the new underwear do you admire it, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror and examining yourself. adjusting the chains holding your tits up, and smoothing any creases from the long skirt, you turn, looking at your outfit from different angles, giggling deliriously.

you look hot. extremely hot. matty’s going to fucking lose it.

and he’s going to be back any second - you can hear him padding along the hallway, humming the imperial march to himself. chucking your discarded clothes onto the chair at your vanity, you all but launch yourself back onto the bed, and settle into the first sexy-ish pose that comes to mind: lying on your side, facing the door, elbow propping up your head and top leg slightly bent.

a brief wave of panic washes over you when the realisation of what you’re doing sinks in, but you don’t have time to psych yourself out of it before matty’s knocking softly on the door. “darling?” he sounds concerned. “you alright? can i come in?”

you take a deep breath. now or never, you suppose. “yeah. come in, angel.”

“got worried when i saw the door was- oh my god,” matty’s breath catches when he opens the door and sets eyes on you for the first time. he stands there quite gormlessly for about a minute, mouth agape and pretty eyes blinking constantly, as if to make sure you’re actually lying on the bed in princess leia cosplay and he isn’t dreaming. his eyeline shifts quite constantly, too, flitting from your smiling (smirking) face to your legs to your chest and back again. yours shifts down over his bare chest to his boxers, already beginning to tent, much to your delight.

mission accomplished.

twirling your hair around your index finger, you smile at your boyfriend. “happy birthday, baby,” biting your lip, you beckon him over with the same finger; he stumbles forwards, entranced, sinking to his knees at the side of the bed. you run your thumb over his lips, and matty whines quietly, eliciting a satisfied hum of your own. “do you like my new outfit?” 

he nods so frantically you fear for his neck. still, you want to hear him. “words, sweet boy. want you to tell me what you think about it.”

“okay,” matty croaks out, eyes glued to your tits. “you- you look fucking incredible. um, just, like, so sexy. m’so fucking turned on. never been so hard in my fucking life. seriously.”

he isn’t kidding; you glance down at his clothed dick, visibly straining against the fabric, and you can feel your ego inflating to match. “yeah?” you slide your hand into his hair. “what do you want to do about it?”

“wanna fuck you,” he whimpers, looking doe-eyed at you. “but i wanna eat you out first. can i? please, darling?”

he’s so fucking eager. you’re obsessed with him.

nodding, you move so you’re sitting on the edge of the bed in front of matty, flicking the front of the skirt out of the way; his pupils dilate even more when he sees you’re bare underneath, and you giggle. “go on then, gorgeous.”

matty’s barely gasped out a “thank you” before you’re being tugged towards his face and it’s buried between your thighs. really, there’s no other word for it - if you could think anything coherent amidst the pleasure searing through you with every movement of your boyfriend’s tongue, you’d genuinely worry about whether he can breathe or not, so close is he to your core. but how can you be expected to think when you feel so fucking good?

of course, matty being matty, he’s slightly graceless with his tongue in his overexcitement, but that’s easily remedied - you root your fingers between those curls you love so much, using them as leverage to grind yourself against him and, in the process, guide him to do what you need him to. he groans what you assume, knowing him, is a “thank you” into your cunt, and the vibrations of his voice add an extra layer to the stimulation already turning you into a wanton, whining mess of a woman. “fuck, matty, such a good boy for me,” you pant, stomach contracting with every lick. humming happily, he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on the bud and making you wail.  “yes, yes, just like that… fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good to me. keep going, angel, make me feel good.”

just like you knew it would, the praise spurs your boyfriend on, more than you would’ve thought humanly possible had you not spent copious amounts of time with his mouth on you just like this. after he’s had his fill of making out with your clit - for now, at least - matty turns his attention to your hole itself, licking into it like melting ice cream, driving the muscle into you to the hilt, over and over and over. that in itself is enough to make your legs convulse, but then he adds his thumb to your clit; some form of half-scream half-sob thing drags itself up your throat and past your lips as matty draws every pattern he knows you love onto the bundle of nerves, and your thighs involuntarily clench around his head, keeping him flush against you.

as if he would ever leave you hanging.

some part of your pleasure-numb brain urges you to apologise, tells you that crushing his head like that is surely painful, but it’s quickly disproven by your boyfriend whimpering into your core, pretty little masochist that he is. he looks up at you, beautiful eyes rolling back further into his head with every moan you make, responding with whines and groans of his own. there are a lot of things to like and love about matty, and his focused desire to always make you feel good is one of them - he gets off on this, making you feel nothing less than euphoric, and there’s no way in hell he’s stopping doing what he’s doing until you cum.

and when he rapidly flicks his tongue on your clit, side to side, curls flying everywhere from the force with which he’s shaking his head, you do. the building ball of pleasure in your stomach shatters, careening into your veins and nerves and brain and voicebox, and it’s all you can do to hold him against your cunt until the aftershocks subside.

matty giggles breathily, tenderly rubbing your thighs as you flop back onto the bed and catch your breath. when you’ve stopped shaking quite so much, you sit up on your elbows to look at him. “now where on earth did you learn that last move?”

he shrugs, cheeks rosy from use and damp with you. sweet as caramel and completely earnest, he replies. “just wondered if it would work.”

“jesus christ,” you giggle, shaking your head. “you're perfect, you know that? now,” you beckon him again. “get up here, birthday boy.”

matty doesn't waste any time; he's lying beside you before you've even finished talking, giddy smile intact. you make the same face in return, climbing onto his lap and pressing your lips to his, while his hands find home on your waist. the taste of yourself on him is exhilarating - you moan into matty when it hits you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and fluster you even further.

it's such a good kiss that it physically pains you to pull away. but the sight of matty, all messy hair and big adoring eyes, makes up for it. smiling, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “so, birthday boy, what do you want to do next?”

“hmm,” matty's brow furrows adorably, hands tracing the bare skin of your torso as he thinks. after a moment, he looks up at you shyly. “i’d like you to ride me, please.”

before you can open your mouth to agree, he bursts into speech again. “but only if you want to! we can do something else if you’re not in the mood for that. god, i’d take anything at all. but, also, nothing. i don’t mind,” he takes a breath, smiling lovingly at you and stroking your hair. “to be honest, i’d settle just for looking at you, darling. my beautiful girl”. 

your cheeks burn, your heart flutters, and all you can do is kiss your boyfriend again. it's sweeter than the last kiss, but it quickly deepens into something desperate - you lift your hips and tug gently at matty's boxers, and he lifts his own hips to let you slide them off. you giggle against his lips as he holds you at a funny angle so he can kick the underwear off, pulling back slightly to talk. “can i fuck you now, sweetheart?”

matty smiles. “you can do anything you want.”

“alright,” you grin at the way he whimpers when you take hold of his dick, eyes fluttering closed when you pump it; you softly touch his face as if to stir him. “eyes open, sweetheart. want you to watch me.”

“okay. sorry,” he obliges, eyes opening and widening as you sink down onto him slowly, hands braced on his hard chest. “jesus christ.”

“yeah,” you breathe, jaw dropping as you take him fully. after a second, you begin to grind your hips, riding him slowly to adjust to how big he is. “always feel so fucking good inside me, baby. how is it for you?”

“perfect,” he's fucked already, eyes heavy and jaw slackening, a sheen of sweat covering his chest tattoo. you speed up your movements, and matty groans, gaze fixated on your tits. “can i touch you, please?”

“of course, angel.”

“thank you.” just as you predicted, your boyfriend's hands immediately go to your chest, palming and squeezing as best he can through the bra. feeling generous - it is his birthday, after all - you reach backwards and undo the garment, chucking it somewhere in your bedroom. matty smiles deliriously, and when he lightly pinches your nipples, you can't help the way your hips speed up or the moan that escapes your lips.

clearly, he isn't the only masochist in the room.

your thighs are beginning to burn from the effort, but you ignore it. matty's enjoying this, the way you're fucking him, as evidenced by the whines of your name and groans and whimpers that fall from his lips, punctuated by the gorgeous sound of your skin slapping against his. and you're enjoying it, too - he hits a delicious spot inside you every time your bodies meet, and given your previous orgasm you don't think it'll take long for you to get off again. 

he also seems to be getting close, hips sporadically jerking up into you. it feels good, actually, so good that you decide it might be time to relinquish control for a bit. you smile sweetly. “do you want to do the work for a bit, angel, wanna fuck me?”

“can i?”

fuck, you have the most adorable boyfriend in history. you nod. “i'd really like that.”

“alright,” matty shuffles beneath you, sitting up more against the pillows and moving your arms to rest on his shoulders. he kisses you, so deeply and passionately that your head spins. “can i make you cum, please, darling?”

“yeah.”

he smiles, hands moving to hold your hips. “whatever my girl wants.”

no sooner than the words have left his mouth, matty fucks up into you as fast as he can. you've no idea how he can even move at such a brutal pace, but you're not about to complain; you're not about to do anything, actually, except cling onto him and moan into his neck, your second orgasm of the night creeping closer and closer with every thrust of your boyfriend's hips. urging it on even faster, you slip a hand down to your still-sensitive clit, matching pace with matty and pulling the pleasure out from your very bones. you throw your head back, whimpering praise and pleas for him to get you off; matty watches, mesmerised. “fuck, you're beautiful,” he groans, still fucking you with reckless abandon. “cum for me, please, please. wanna watch you, wanna make you feel good. need it, darling, need you to cum.”

his pleading is what does it for you; with a wail, you bury your head in the crook of matty's neck, whimpering into him as you cum for the second time in under an hour. he brings a hand to the back of your head, tenderly holding you close as his hips stutter to a stop, murmuring more pleas into your ear. “fuck, fuck, please let me cum, can't - shit, darling - can't hold it any longer.”

“do it,” you speak into his skin. “cum, baby, fill me up.”

matty whines, thrusting up into you a final time. he wraps his arms around you as he cums, kissing your shoulder as he recovers. “thank you, sweet girl. so good to me.”

“so good for me,” you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend, both of you unbothered by the cum leaking out of you and onto his stomach when he slips out of you. “always exactly what i need.”

matty smiles. he holds your face so carefully, caressing your cheeks when you pull apart. “i've changed my mind.”

“about what?” you frown, confused.

“about what my best birthday was,” matty giggles, still panting for breath. “it's this one. hands-down. fuck the football.”

you laugh. “can i get that in writing?”

“after today? you can get anything you want,” he laughs, slightly manic, shaking his head in disbelief. “i can't believe you bought and wore that outfit for me, darling. sexiest fucking thing i've ever seen, christ.”

“i'm glad you liked it. i had a lot of fun,” you kiss his nose. “happy birthday, baby. can i clean you up?”

“in a minute, my girl,” matty wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you until your core hovers over his face, currently set into the biggest smirk you've ever seen. “my turn first.”

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART ONE: THE SHOW MUST GO ON

Mini-Series Masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

WC: 2.5k words

Series Summary: Before the great war, you were an actress—A good friend and frequent co-star of Cooper Howard. After two hundred years in cryogenic stasis, you’re being sent to New Vegas as a performer, but on the way there, things don’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, series is 18+, canon typical violence, some angst, friends to lovers-ish?, some miscommunications, eventual smut, chem use, there’ll be some Spanish in there for sure (with translations), cursing, the ghoul being the ghoul, aaaaand that’s all I can think of for now but lmk if anything else!

A/N: This is INCREDIBLY self indulgent, but imagine yourself in these shoes for a moment why don’t you? :) hope you enjoy! pt.1 dedicada ao meu amor @the-devils-littlegirl <33

——————-

The holotape was a little over two hundred years old, but it was in relatively good condition. It contained a talk show interview with two actors who were promoting a Western film. The image was in black and white, fuzzy with time, and the voices sounded tinny. 

“So tell me, both of you, what’s it been like working on so many pictures together?” The interviewer, Holden Boyd, asked. “This must be — what, the fourth one?”

“That’s right. You know, Holden, in all my years in this industry, I have never met anyone more professional,” Cooper Howard, the handsome hero of the film, turned to you, sitting beside him. “But she also knows how to keep things balanced between work and play. We laugh a lot behind the scenes, actually.”

“Really?” Holden asked, leaning forward with renewed interest. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, you two have some incredible chemistry on screen.”

“Well, gee, Coop, do we really?” You couldn’t help but grin at him, making him chuckle. “Maybe that’s why we keep getting cast together.”

“And how’s his Spanish? Are you teaching him any?” Holden asked you. 

“I’ve certainly tried,” you said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Say something, why don’t you?”

Cooper’s smile turned sheepish, shaking his head. “Errr… No muy bueno, pero intento.”

His thick southern accent made you and Holden laugh, invariably charmed. In the background, claps and cheers from the live audience, equally smitten. Cooper always knew how to win people over, it was like second nature to him.

“He’s a natural!” Holden exclaimed. “Say the line Coop, you know the one.”

Cooper cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and pretended to point a gun, his expression fully serious.“Feo, Fuerte, y Formal.”

An eruption of cheers, louder than before. You clapped in delight, smiling ear to ear as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

“Ah, I see you’ve found our tapes,” the mechanical voice of vault thirty-one’s overseer startled you. 

You looked down at… it, still not used to interacting with a motorized brain suspended in some sort of tank. Bud, you thought it said its name was. Vaguely familiar, but your memories were still hazy, having been in cryogenic stasis for so long. 

“Why do you have these?” You asked.

“Everything pertaining to Hollywood was preserved for archival purposes. Feel free to watch anything you like,” Bud said. “We have all of your films, as well as interviews, press clippings, and pictures.”

You looked back at the screen, crossing your arms over your chest and trying not to shudder. You had me, too. You thought, stomach turning. A shiny toy shelved away for later use.

You’d gotten a spot in vault thirty one in exchange for compliance — after all, the future would need entertainers, right? And the nostalgia factor would just sell so well. You would be totally set for whatever came… or so they’d said.

It hadn’t seemed like a terrible deal at the time, but you hadn’t truly realized how tremendous the losses would be. Or how much things could veer off course in two centuries. 

Cooper was gone, and so was everyone else you had ever cared for. Bud hadn’t said what happened to your former co-star, but it didn't need to. 

 You had entered the vault all by yourself, with no family or spouse to consider. And just a few days ago, you had been greeted by that same loneliness when you’d emerged from the pod. 

Some things never changed, it seemed. Perhaps New Vegas wouldn’t be a terrible distraction, all things considered.

“Feels like it was only yesterday…” you said, keeping the melancholy out of  your voice.

“Doesn’t it? That’s the best part of the stasis pods. Keeps one fresh,” Bud said, chipper. “How’s your head feeling, by the way?”

“Better,” you sighed. “Barely any pain left.”

“Oh, good. You should be ready to travel to New Vegas in a couple more days. I’ve been in touch with a trusted courier that should be able to escort you there safely.”

A tinge of fear in your chest. “How… bad is it out there?”

“Well, er, it’s… not great. But we’ll get there! I’ve heard New Vegas has a lot more going for it than these parts,” Bud said quickly, not wanting to linger on the negative. “Vault twenty one, where you’ll be staying, was turned into a hotel. Lots of people passing by. I’m sure it’ll be easy for you to attract the crowds.” 

Stepping towards the projector, you ejected the holotape, unable to watch any more. The memories would consume you far too easily, if you let them. That life had crumbled to dust long ago, and there was nothing you could do to change that, either.

What other choice did you have but to trudge forward?

“For both our sakes, Bud, I really hope that’s true.”

————————————-

As with most things, Bud had severely understated just how bad things were on the surface. The sight of it had instantly struck you— Nothing was left but ruins and desert plains stretching as far as the eye could see. No one but you and the courier — a weathered, gruff looking middle-aged man — around for miles.

You’d left your vault suit behind in exchange for the clothes you’d worn when you first went in. You were also given a small survival pack, a tranquilizer gun, and a pip boy, but that was the extent of your belongings.

 The courier handed you a hat and an old scarf to cover yourself from the sun and the sand, instructing you to keep close before whirling around and starting to walk.

Did he even say what his name was? You couldn’t recall, but you were too busy being in shock to care too much.

It was all so unceremonious, unlike what you’d been used to in the past. No cars or any other mode of transportation, no roads to smoothly cruise on. No kind words offered for your departure, except for Bud’s overly enthusiastic Good luck! before opening the vault’s enormous door. 

“Say, how long do you think the… trip is going to take?” You asked, trying to keep your fear at bay. 

“Around three weeks, give or take. That is, if the weather holds and we keep a good pace during the day,” the courier said. “Can’t be out at night around these parts.”

You swallowed hard, wondering what sorts of dangers lurked out there. You had some stunt training, but no actual fighting skills. Hopefully, the tranq gun would be enough, but you also suspected your companion had far deadlier weapons.

Better to stay on his good side, you thought.

“First stop’s at a town called Filly. Got some quick business to take care of there, so we’ll be spending the night,” the courier continued when you didn’t respond. “Keep your head down and let me do the talking. Don’t want anybody to recognize you.”

You nodded, letting out a long sigh. 

“Hopefully they’ve got showers there,” you said, imagining how calming the hot stream of water might be. 

The courier looked at you over his shoulder, incredulous, and barked out a laugh. Your face heated up at his ridicule, mumbling something about vault dwellers to himself with a shake of his head. 

You walked in silence for the next couple of hours, trying to guess what area you might be passing through. Briefly, you wondered if the ruins of your old house still stood somewhere, and if you’d be able to find them. 

But you reminded yourself not to dwell on what no longer existed. 

Soon enough, you started to see signs of humanity. A few stragglers here and there, but the courier steered you in different directions whenever he spotted larger groups. Raiders, he’d told you, a grim look on his face.

 You hurried your step, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as possible. Bud had given you a very basic rundown of what you might encounter on the surface, but while some of it was hard to believe without seeing it firsthand, raiders did not fall under that category.

Still, despite the danger, at least you were reassured that you weren’t the only people left around. 

Filly was a ramshackle town made up of scraps;  A small testament of humanity’s endurance. Vendors were hawking questionable food and other wares at the outskirts of it, the tight pack of more bodies making you nervous. 

Your senses were invaded by smells and noises and even the occasional passerby bumping into you. Life was still brimming, as chaotic as it may seem. Somehow, it made you feel the smallest flicker of hope.

The courier led you through the crowd and down a rickety stairway towards a small square, where there was a little more room to move. The sun was beginning to set, bright tendrils of orange and gold tinting the sky. 

For a brief moment, you stopped to look at it, moved almost to tears by the simple beauty of a sunset. At least, that hadn’t changed either, and you vowed to never take them for granted again. 

“This way,” the courier said, urging you to move. 

Unbeknownst to you, someone had taken notice of the two of you. More specifically, the courier. A hit had been placed on him, worth three hundred caps. There was no reason given for it, but he hadn’t thought to ask questions, anyway. He didn’t much like meddling unnecessarily.

He surreptitiously followed behind, keeping his distance so you wouldn’t notice him. He already stuck out like a sore thumb, what with being a ghoul and all. But, like any bounty hunter worth his salt, he still knew how to lay low.

The courier led you into a repurposed building that rented out closet sized rooms. You paid with a few of the caps Bud had put in your survival pack, relieved that you wouldn’t have to share a room. 

The courier was curt but prudent, in his own way. You were just a task to him, and you knew he would protect you as best as he could because of it. You had nothing against him so far, but you didn’t want to take your chances regardless. 

“Stay in your room, I’m gonna head out for a bit. I’ll bring back some food,” he said, turning to leave.

“Wait!” You hurried behind him, out into the open, where it was growing darker. “Wouldn’t it be better to, uh, stick together?”

“It’s private business,” he grunted, annoyed. “Besides, you’ll be safer in there.”

“But—”

“Hey, you,” you heard from behind you, followed by a commanding whistle. “Sabinez, is it?”

The courier looked up, his eyes immediately widening. “Oh, fuck.”

You followed his gaze, finding a… cowboy. His face was mostly obscured underneath the brim of his hat, but his lack of a nose was still strikingly apparent. Radiation burns marred what little skin you could see, the rest covered in old, tattered leathers. 

A ghoul, from what Bud had described. The see-it-to-believe-it kind of danger. Your stomach dropped.

He was pointing his revolver at the courier – Sabinez –  finger about to squeeze the trigger.

“No, please!” You exclaimed, panicked. 

Foolishly, without even thinking about it, you stepped in front of him, arms extended in an attempt to further shield him. The ghoul raised his hairless eyebrows, both amused and surprised.

“I need him,” you said, heart beating so fast you feared it might leap out of your chest. “Please.”

“How sweet,” the ghoul said mockingly, one hand on his chest. “But as it turns out, sweetheart, I need him, too.”

Before you could react, he raised the barrel of the revolver infinitesimally and fired. A dizzying moment in which the bullet whizzed by your head, and Sabinez’s body slumped behind you, his blood spraying at your back. 

Any onlookers that had stuck around scattered to safety, not wanting to be next in line for whatever the ghoul had planned. You let out a choked sound, too shocked to even scream. Shuddering, you slowly looked over your shoulder, only to avert your gaze quickly.

“No,” you murmured, horrified. “No, no, no…Fuck!”

It was just your luck, encountering death the very first day you finally returned to the surface. You wondered if you should fall to your knees and beg for mercy, but your body refused to move.

The ghoul’s spurs clinked as he stepped towards you, and you raised your hands in surrender, keeping your eyes down.

“You the cargo?” He asked, tilting his head to one side in curiosity. “Let’s get a better look at’cha.”

You whimpered as he grasped one of your arms, his other hand tugging down the scarf that covered half your face. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes roaming over your features.

“Look at me,” he ordered, voice low.

Swallowing hard, you finally dared to look up at him. Tears clung to your lashes, a stray one running down your cheek. He looked more skeletal up close, his eyes sunken in, cheekbones prominent, and of course there was the cavern where his nose would be. 

He removed your hat next, letting go of you and taking a step back. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite decipher, but you felt a creeping sense of deja vu the longer you looked at him. 

“You…” he said, something like recognition in his voice, as well as disbelief.

“I–Please, I don’t know w-what he did to you but I don’t–” You started to babble, but he interrupted. 

“Where were y’all heading off to?”

“U-um, New Vegas, uh, sir?” You tried to smile placatingly, but it was watery and would slip away at any moment. 

Not only was it strange for him to see you alive and in the flesh, but you were also fearing him. He remembered your earnest smiles, genuinely pleased to see him. Then again, you hadn’t yet recognized who he was. 

He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted you to know, but he also didn’t really want to let you go on your own way. Plus, he’d just killed your only guide, so it was only fair that he took on the job and saw it through.

That way, he could try to find out more about all that had happened, without giving himself away.

“New Vegas, huh,” he mused, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a long ways away, especially if you don’t know where you’re goin’...But it’s your lucky night, sweetheart, ‘cus I just so happen to know the way.”

“R-really? I could pay you if you’d h-help me!” you said quickly, rummaging through your pack to show him some caps. “I’m not sure how much would be enough but… I’ll be making more once I start working.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist now, we can do some negotiating later,” he drawled, lips curling in a smirk as he looked up at the building behind you. “Hope you don’t mind us bunking together.”

Your entire face heated up. “Uh, you can take his room. It’s already paid for.”

“Well, what a generous fella he was,” he said, tossing your stuff back at you. “Jus’ don’t come runnin’ when you get nightmares. I ain’t much of a cuddler.”

----

[roseghoul26]

Part 1

Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"

Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read

part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4

“C’mon, we’re heading out. And make sure you bring that rifle.”

Arthur’s voice caused you to look up from polishing said rifle, the freshly cleaned barrel glinting in the afternoon sun. Before you stood the cowboy, one hand resting casually on his gun belt, the other rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. 

Narrowing your eyebrows, you stood, strapping the gun across your back. “You’re worried,” you stated, and you watched his movement halt. “Why?” 

“Dutch says… well how’d you know that? I ain’t even said anything yet.”

“You don’t need to say anything, cowboy. But that’s beside the point. Dutch says…?” You gestured for him to continue. 

You swore you heard him mutter something about you being a damn witch before he turned around, leading you to where the horses were hitched at the front of your camp. The new camp, Clemens Point, was starting to grow on you, even with all the bugs and coyotes around. The access to water was nice, and it was close enough to cities to not be a burden to go to, but far enough away from big populaces to live an outlaw lifestyle. As the two of you walked, Arthur began explaining the new plan that Dutch had roped you two into. 

“Pearson said he met some O’Driscolls, who claim Colm is willing to ‘negotiate peace’ with Dutch.” Arthur sounded as convinced as you felt.

“You’re kidding me.” 

“I swear to you. Don’t know what’s gonna come from it, but it’s a start.”

“You really believe Colm’ll just stop fighting Dutch?”

“Not really. But Micah got Dutch convinced he would, and crazier things have happened…” For the second time, you watched him rub the back of his neck. 

“You think it’s a trap, don’t you?” 

“I’d be a fool not to.”

By this time you had reached your horses, yours a large black and white war horse, his a brown Appaloosa.You went to go pick up your saddle which lay across the hitching post, but when your hands made contact with the leather, Arthur playfully swatted your hands away, picking the saddle up himself, heaving it up and over the horse with a light grunt. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, allowing you to fully appreciate his muscular forearms as he lifted with ease.

“Hey-” you began, before getting silenced with a look from the cowboy. 

After quickly securing the saddle, he held out his hand expectantly, slightly tipping himself downward in a mock bow. A cheeky smirk adorned his face. “Your ride is ready, princess.”

“I ain’t no princess,” you scoffed, but you still took his hand gingerly, unable to stop a faint smile from growing on your own face, and you stepped into one of the stirrups, using Arthur's hand to help bring your body fully over the saddle. 

His hand still held yours as he responded. “No you ain’t,” his gaze, which was playful, turned into something fonder and gentler, a look you’ve seen him give you time and time again. “You’re something better.”

Leaning down until you were almost at eye level with him, you swore you felt him squeeze your hand ever so tighter, and you spoke low, slightly husky. “And what would that be, Arthur Morgan?”

His eyes widened, and you watched his eyes flick up and down your face, trying to determine if your flirtatious tone was a joke or not. A few seconds passed before he opened his mouth to respond. “You’re-”

“C’mon lovebirds! Hurry up!” Micah’s shouting broke whatever trance the two of you had been in, and you felt Arthur quickly drop your hand like it was scalding, stepping back to create an appropriate amount of space between the two of you. A light dusting of pink covered both of your faces, his blue eyes looking everywhere but you, and a quick scan of the camp told you that Micah wasn’t the only one watching the two of you: Javier and Charles shared a look, the hunter laughing gently as the other shook his head; Tilly and Mary-Beth were furiously whispering to each other, glancing over at the two of you every other second.

Clearing your throat, you straightened back up, urging your horse forward as Arthur mounted his, catching up to Micah and Dutch who sat waiting at the entrance to camp. A few seconds later you heard Arthur approach, settling at your right side. “Ready?” Dutch asked, turning and leaving once receiving nods from you and the others. Following suit with Dutch and Micah in the lead, you settled in for the ride. 

Glancing over to the cowboy to your right, you watched him chat with Dutch, not paying attention to the conversation as you took in the man who has plagued every thought in your brain for the last two years. It was no secret you were head-over-heels for Arthur; you had been for at least the past two years. The two of you had been friends for at least four years at this point, becoming close when you joined the gang after a partially-successful pickpocket attempt against Dutch (you had managed to snag his gold pocket watch, but were subsequently caught a few minutes later once he realized). Despite that, he had offered you a place with the gang. You accepted, partially because you needed money, a place to sleep, and could possibly make friends, but you also joined because you finally had a place to put your niche talents to use. 

Arthur and you became close quickly, and you worked together well, meaning you were often sent out together for jobs. It was a platonic relationship, but the two of you always danced the line of platonic and romantic, flirty remarks being tossed around wildly. It wasn’t until the last year or two where you felt yourself start to actually fall in love with the cowboy, and the flirting wasn’t helping. It was the age old tale of falling for your best friend, and feeling too afraid to say anything in case it wasn’t reciprocated, possibly ruining said friendship. 

It wasn’t hard to fall for him. For all the hard front he puts up, he has a kind heart, going out of his way to help folks (he usually preferred when a reward was offered, but would do things begrudgingly if none was presented). He was loyal, staying by Dutch’s side through thick and thin, and had humor drier than a desert. And he wasn’t bad on the eyes either, a thinker body built from years of labor, skin tanned and scars from years in the wild and sun. Eyes bluer than the ocean, you found yourself always drowning in their depths. 

You hadn’t realized you had been staring at him until you heard him say your name, slightly loud, as if he had been trying to get your attention for a bit. He laughed, “I asked, ‘he treating you well?’” 

When you gave him a confused look, he pointed downwards to your horse, which Arthur had bought for you a few weeks ago after your previous horse was shot by some Lemoyne Raiders. “He is,” you stroked his mane affectionately, earning you a content huff from the beast. “Thank you again, Arthur.”

“It’s nothing, really. You named him yet?”

“I have. You ever read Charles Dickens?” 

“Ain’t much of a reader,” he responded. 

“His name is Tiny Tim, from A Cristmas Carol. My mom would read it every year ‘round Christmas time.”

“Tiny Tim? There ain’t nothing tiny ‘bout that beast!”

“That’s what’s funny!” You laughed, and Arthur just shook his head, trying and failing to hide his own laughter. 

“Yer cute,” he said, nonchalantly, like he had no idea he was actually saying it. You just stared at him, caught off guard by his seemingly very genuine statement. Now it was his turn to be confused, and he cocked his head to side, glancing at you quizzically. 

Dutch’s voice had snapped your gazes back forward, meeting his eyes as he turned to talk. “You know, I’ve been fighting Colm for so long now… I can barely remember a time when it was different.”

The man to your right finally looked away from you, his expression harding as he responded. “And you’re still fighting him now, make no mistake of that.”

“Here he goes…” Micah began. “Doubting Thomas… is there any plan you ain’t sour on?”

“Maybe you’re right. I’m just nervous. Let’s not waste any more lives needlessly.”

“I ain’t costing lives here… I’m saving them. What did you say, we had Pinkertons coming after us?”

“Because of Blackwater,” you chimed in. 

Micah continued, “And Leviticus Cornwall and his private army! Then… who knows when this local hillbilly thing will come to a head, hm? Can we really afford to be fighting on all these fronts, and O’Driscoll?”

The group was silent for a moment, all chewing on the words spoken by the blonde man. 

“There is wisdom in that,” Dutch finally said. 

“For once,” you muttered, thinking you were unheard until you heard a chuckle from your right. 

“Oh, I hope so, gentlemen, but… like I said, I’m nervous.”

“Yeah, me too,” you added. “Feels too good to be true.”

Now it was Micah’s turn to shift around his saddle to face you. “Look, you ain’t even going to be the one in danger… we’ll get on over there… find a nice perch for you to settle your pretty self into… you got that rifle, don’t you?”

Choosing to ignore that one particular comment of his, you tapped the strap across the shoulder that held your rolling block rifle, one of your most prized possessions. “Never leave without it,” you said, failing to notice the way that Arthur glared daggers into Micah, who continued talking.

“Then me, Dutch, and Arthur walk right into the lion’s den, with you to cover us.”

“Just stay calm, unless I give you a reason not to,” you said, a growing tension building inside you.

Dutch gave you a reassuring smile.“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ve got you.”

“I will do my best.”

“Oh, my dear, with you watching over me, I would walk into hell itself.”

“As would I,” Micah added. 

You weren’t doubtful of your abilities as a sharpshooter, but the praise coming from the man you respected, and Micah, helped bolster your confidence, and you felt yourself sitting up straighter as you rode. “You don’t need me to tell you how great you are,” Arthur said, pausing a moment before continuing. “But I’m gonna anyway. I would go anywhere if I knew you was watching over me.”

“Now y’all are putting too much pressure on me,” you joked, trying to clear the comforting ache in your chest from Arthur’s words. “Gonna give me performance anxiety.”

“Arthur knows a thing or two ‘bout that!” 

“Micah, I swear-” he growled, and you and Dutch shared glances before breaking into laughter, the tension building up with the upcoming meeting dissipating momentarily. 

The next few minutes of riding were in comfortable silence, before Micah halted suddenly as you reached the base of the hills, the rest of you skidding to a halt behind him. “Hey, up there, men on the ridge.” 

Glancing up, you indeed saw four men atop the ridge, all four on horses, looking down on your group. You watched Dutch place a hand on his gun, already ready for things to go wrong. “O’Driscolls, from the look of them.”

“I don’t like having eyes on us.” Arthur grumbled. 

“We’re close,” Micah pointed to you. “You’ll be the eyes soon enough.”

Nodding, you swung your rifle around so it sat in your hands. “Let’s go.”

The group started back up again, riding around and up the hill. That previously dissipated tension was back, and you saw the way that Arthur’s jaw clenched as he rode. “Maybe he’s right, Dutch. Maybe I have pushed too hard. Got us into situations that… could have been safer. I just… I see all these mouths we got to feed, and I… I dream too big. Caring too much, that’s my problem.”

“The hell you on about, Micah?” You asked, Arthur nodding in agreement. The men in front both ignored you.

“Caring too much?” Dutch scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”

After giving you a look that screamed confusion, Arthur exclaimed “This is horse shit. From both of you!”

“It might be! Micah might be full of shit. Colm O’Driscoll might be full of shit. The promise of this great nation, men create equal, liberty and justice for all… that might be nonsense too. But it’s worth trying for. It’s worth believing in. Can’t you see that, friend?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try. All I ask is you try.”

Finally reaching your destination, you all halted again, and you watched Micah turn around so he was face-to-face with you. “Alright, princess,” he looked directly at Arthur, jesting at the earlier interaction he interrupted, before looking back to you. “You’re gonna peel off up ahead. We’ll be meeting down on the plane. Find a spot just above us where you can keep an eye on things.”

“Alright, alright.” You responded, getting ready to leave before Arthur stopped you.

“However this shakes out, let’s aim to meet back at the fork in the road afterwards.”

“Got it. Behave yourselves, boys.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you heard Dutch respond before him and Micah took off toward the plane. Again, you turned to leave, but you heard your name leave Arthur’s mouth. 

Glancing at him, you gave him an easy smile, before chuckling lightly. “Better get going cowboy. They’re gonna start without you.”

Your laugh died in your throat as you saw a rather serious Arthur before you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Be careful.” He inhaled shakily. “Please.”

“I- I will,” your answer sounded more like a question. “But it’s not me you should be worried about. I’m not going into the ‘lion’s den’, as Micah put it. I’ll be fine.”

“Just promise me if things go wrong, you’ll get the hell out of here.”

“You know I can’t promise that. But for you, I’ll certainly try.”

Knowing that was the best he was going to get from you, he just shook his head, and began to make his way toward the others. “I’ll see ya later, princess.” 

Turning so he couldn’t see your flustered state, you waved him away, laughing as you heard Micah shout hurry up, loverboy. Reaching the top of the hill, you dismounted, hitching your horse to a nearby dead tree, and as crouched at the edge, you watched through the scope of your rifle as the men waited for the O’Driscolls to arrive. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You should’ve known something was wrong when you only saw three men on the plane. 

It wasn’t the fact that one of these men was Colm himself, nor was it the fact that each of these men were armed and dangerous, ready to fire at a single wrong move from Dutch. With you watching from above, and Micah and Arthur both backing Dutch from behind, you had no doubt which side would win in a shootout. 

No, it was the fact that you remembered there being four O’Driscolls waiting atop the hill as you all approached.

At the time, as you crouched on your perch, keeping eye on the “negotiation” happening between the two gangs, you hadn’t been worried, figuring they had a person on watch as well. You should’ve looked a little harder, could’ve scanned the nearby hills and see that the fourth O’Driscoll was nowhere to be found. Maybe if you’d have done this, you wouldn’t be hung upside down in Colm’s basement, a nasty gunshot wound in your left shoulder.

The footsteps had approached quickly, and the butt of the rifle was even quicker, striking you across the face with a sickening crack. Everything went black, and you barely remember waking up strung across the back of a horse for a few moments before falling back into unconsciousness. 

You remember waking up again, and you were able to escape for a moment before one O’Driscoll was able to get you with a rope, causing you to eat shit, your head slamming against the forest floor. They had laughed to each other, before one of them held their gun up to your shoulder, an agonizing blast and a flash of white light the last thing you saw before darkness took over again. 

Now here you were, strung upside down, the blood currently rushing to your brain making it pound harder. Everything hurts, the small puddle of blood beneath you indicative of the state of your body. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here; everything became a blur after the first day. 

Colm had yet to make an appearance, his men being the ones to torture you. It was the same few men each time. They alternated from keeping you upside down to having you tied down to a chair, to having you hanging by chains that pulled at your shoulder, aggravating your wounds even further. But they never asked many questions, instead finding their answers in their knives and pokers that they carved into your flesh.

Day after day you searched for means of escape, coming up fruitless each time; his men were surprisingly well trained, making sure to not leave anything in range of you that could be used as a tool or weapon. 

However, they wanted you alive, for whatever reason. Crude first aid had been applied to your wounds, preventing infection and disease from killing you off, but the one at your shoulder continued to be the worse. Occasionally they would give you water and stale food, messily hand fed by one of the men. Despite that, every time you heard the cellar door open, you waited with bated breath for the final blow, but it never came.

The cellar they kept you in was small, musty, and lit by a single candle on a table to your right, just out of reach from where you hung. A few scraps of cloth lay on the table, covered in crimson, and a single chair sat tucked in the corner, also covered in blood. 

Trying to find any sort of comfort, you tried sitting up a bit, your abs screaming out as you managed to lift yourself up a few inches, and some of the blood returned to the rest of your body. Dizzy, you shut your eyes, letting yourself flop back down, the chains creaking above you. 

The chains were so loud that you almost failed to hear the squeak of the cellar doors opening, heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to you. Opening one of your eyes, you saw an unfamiliar silhouette approaching, until you heard him speak your name. “It’s good to see ya.” He said, stepping fully into the cellar, the candlelight allowing you to see him fully.

“Hello, Colm,” your voice was hoarse from screaming, and you watched the greasy man step closer, a plate of food in one hand, some kind of utensil in the other. Finally opening both eyes, you  watched him place his things down on the table, the clatter of the plate barely audible over your own heartbeat. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, because before you knew it a bolt of pain tore through your body and you cried out, Colm stepping back from you after pressing his hand hard into your shoulder. 

He sneered down at you, grimy yellow teeth flashing. “How’s the wound?”

Gritting your teeth, you stared down the leader of the O’Driscolls with as much venom as you could muster, willing back the tears of pain. “Can’t feel it.”

“Whatever makes ya feel better,” he stalked over to his food, turning his back to you as he ate. “ Now, tell me…” he spoke through mouthfuls of food, “fine gun like you… why you still running around with old Dutch? Could come ride with me and make real money.”

“You know it ain’t about the money, Colm.”

“That’s right… it’s Dutch’s famous charisma.” In a blur of movement, his food forgotten, he kicked you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you. Your body swung from the chains, which groaned and creaked at the movement. All you could let out was a soft wheeze, your vision going double. “You killed a whole punch of my boys… at Six Point Cabin.”

So why haven’t you killed me yet? You smirked, at least the best you could, your teeth stained red, lip splitting. “One of your own took us there. Bastards had it comin’.”

The click of a gun and the feeling of cold metal against your head made your wish you kept your mouth shut. The final blow was coming at the hands of Colm. Trying to swallow, your throat too dry to do so, you put on a brave face, even though internally you were terrified. There was so much you had left to do, so much left to tell. This wasn’t where your story ended, right?

Closing your eyes, you tried to take deep breaths, fighting down the panic bubbling inside. Do not show him you’re afraid, you thought. Don’t give him the satisfaction of you being afraid in your last moments. 

And you waited.

And waited.

You waited until you felt the barrel of the gun slowly pull away, and your eyes shot open, confused. “Yer lucky I need you alive,” Colm snarled, striking you across the face before returning his pistol to its holster, running a hand over his face while circling your body like a vulture. “Law want’s ya alive. All of ya.”

“Best of luck with that, sayin’ you only got one of us.”

“For now.”

“You planning on raiding us?” Colm didn’t respond. “You can tell me. Not leaving here soon anyway.”

“Nah,” Colm began. “Ain’t gotta go to that much trouble to round you up. We lure an angry Arthur in to rescue ya… Dutch and the others following… and  grab all of ya and hand ya in… then disappear.”

“So you only met with them to grab me?”

“Of course…” Colm chuckled. “He’s gonna be so mad. He gonna come raging over here… and a whole lot of ya… and the law’ll be waiting for him.” Sighing, he crouched down before you, his rancid breath overwhelming your senses. “Oh, I missed you.”

The first strike went to your gut. 

The second went to your bad shoulder. 

The third and final strike landed at your nose, blood spraying from the impact. 

Groaning, you felt the warm liquid streaming from your nose, joining the puddle beneath you with a soft drip, drip, drip. Colm stood up, grabbing his plate with a huff, shaking out one of hands, his knuckles slightly busted from the strikes. He didn’t say anything as he left, stomping up the stairs loudly, the door slamming shut behind him.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a newfound sense of urgency to escape coming over you, needing to stop Colm’s plan from coming to fruition. Glancing around, you looked again for something to help you escape. Unlike all the other times, however, something caught your eye on the table; whatever utensil Colm had brought down sat there, glinting gently in the light. Luckily for you, it seemed like Colm wasn’t as well trained as his men.

Slowly, you began to rock yourself back and forth, trying to build up enough momentum to reach it. Holding back noises of pain, you rocked, getting closer and closer with every swing, your fingers straining and you reached, and stretched, until finally it was in your grasp. You nearly cried with relief, and after glancing at the utensil in your hand, which was a two-pronged fork, you ceased your swinging, eventually coming to a full stop. 

Hands shaking, using whatever scrap of strength you had left in your hands, you bent on of the prongs forward, creating a lockpick like instrument. Now it was time for the hard part, which was trying to reach the padlock that held the shackles around your feet, connecting you to the chains. 

Every muscle in your body was begging you to stop, shaking as you slowly started to sit up, your core working overtime to get you up. All you had to do was just reach and disengage the lock. It took a few tries until you were finally able to get it in, and then-

Click. 

You didn’t have any tie to brace yourself before you made contact with the floor, going face first into your own blood pool. Rolling on to your back, you let the world stop spinning before sitting up, glancing worriedly at the cellar door to see if anyone heard your commotion.

After no one barged in after a few moments, you began to stand up, your knees giving out as soon as you were upright. Stumbling, you practically fell into the table, nearly knocking over the candle in the process. Your arms were outstretched in front of you, bracing yourself against the table, and you saw a few droplets of blood from your nose hit the wood. Grimacing, you snatched a bloodied cloth from nearby, tearing a small amount off to block off the blood flow. 

It was at this point that you really started feeling the gunshot wound in your shoulder. After a quick assessment, you realized it was still an open wound, but it was a clean shot, meaning you wouldn’t have to dig the bullet out of you. Eying both the metal fork in your hand and the candle on the table, you mentally steeled yourself for what you were about to do. 

Dragging the chair up next to you and sitting, you heated up the metal instrument until it almost glowed, then before you could lose your nerve, you pressed it to the wound.

It wasn’t the pain that hit you first; it was the smell, which would forever be engraved in your mind. But after you clocked the smell, the pain hit you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming or not, but you continued to hold the device, waiting until you couldn’t see blood spurt out at every beat of your heart. 

Groaning, you slumped your head on the table, feeling exhausted after putting yourself through that, but you had only a few seconds to recover before you heard the door open again. Turns out your cries were very much audible. 

Pressing yourself against the wall, you heard someone begin to come down the stairs. “Hold on, I’ll be back in a minute,” you heard the stranger say. You recognized the voice; it was one of the torturers. 

The man stood at the base of the stairs, dumbfounded, as he took in the empty shackles before him. “What the hell-” That was all he was able to get out before you pounced, the tool finding a home in his throat, and he crumpled to the floor, a small gurgling leaving him before he stilled. The man, unfortunately, was only armed with a knife, which you grabbed, holding it out defensively in front of you as you climbed the stairs. You had to move; it wouldn’t be long until his friends started looking for him. 

You had almost reached the exit before two shadows approaching halted your movement, and you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Two men approached, neither of which you recognized. They were chatting as they patrolled, not really paying attention to their surroundings as they patrolled. A few tense minutes later, the figures retreated, and you dashed out as quickly as you could.

Taking in a breath of fresh air, you took in your surroundings: the two guards were to your left, their backs to you; a small shack was in front of you, and you saw some guns lying out; to your right you saw a horse hitching post, and you thanked the unseen forces of the universe that your horse was here; surrounding you were multiple houses, all you presumed were filled with O’Driscolls. 

First, you needed a weapon. Then, you were getting the hell out of here.

Moving as quietly and quickly as you could, you kept low, keeping an eye out for any other O’Driscolls. Entering the small wood shack, you grabbed the first gun you saw, and you almost left before you saw a very familiar engraved barrel out the corner of your eye. There, sitting in a wooden crate were your weapons, including your prized rifle. 

Swinging it over your shoulder, and securing your gun belt across your waist, you were actually starting to feel hopeful about your chances of survival. Keeping your stolen knife and your pistol out, you poked your head out the door, looking for any guards before taking off toward your horse, still trying to keep hidden.

Once you were close to the horses, you made your presence known, not wanting to spook them. Approaching your mount, you muttered softly, rubbing his neck affectionately. Immediately his eyes flew open, and he began rearing until he realized it was just you.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, boy.”

Something told you he felt the same. 

“Let’s go home.”

You were partially up your horse when you heard a commotion behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw a few O’Driscolls emerge from the various houses, guns out and pointed at you, shouting at you and each other. You had just managed to get on before the shots started going off, bullets whizzing past you as Tiny Tim took off like a bat out of hell, hooves barely hitting the ground as you soared across the plane. 

You could barely make out anything around you, everything a blur as the wind whipped across your battered body, relishing the feel of fresh air before hearing footsteps behind you. Glancing behind, you saw four O’Driscolls in pursuit, firing wildly in an attempt to stop you. 

Aiming behind you, you took a deep breath in, stilling yourself to the best of your ability, taking in each of your targets before squeezing the trigger.

In rapid succession, each man took a bullet to the chest, either stopping them or causing them to go flying off their horse. Within moments your pursuers were gone, leaving only you standing. After hearing no more shouting or hoofbeats, you figured it was safe to holster your weapon. Tiny Tim had slowed down some, a quick trot instead of a full out gallop. 

The adrenaline from the last ten minutes was beginning to fade, your drooping eyes evident of your waning energy. Leaving forward, you leaned forward as best you could in your saddle, your arms wrapping loosely around your horses next for some security.

“C’mon TT, get us home.” You whispered, before your eyes closed at their own volition, your thoughts only of Arthur as you slept.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 5 - Grumpy vs. Sunshine

pairing: pre-steddie | word count: 830 | rated: T

“Ugh this is the worst, why is everyone playing Christmas music already? First Melvald’s, then Johnston’s record store, now even the damn arcade is playing this god-awful music.” Eddie grouses, flinging a hand toward the ceiling in general.

“Oh, I see,” Steve laughs, following slowly behind their herd of nerds at Eddie’s side, “It’s fine if I decorate my whole house already, but god forbid anyone else start celebrating?”

“Duh.”

“And why’s that?”

“‘Cause I actually like you, obviously.”

Steve’s heart squeezes in his chest, but he continues to rile up the other man. “Got it, got it; so you don’t like the record store anymore? Don’t like the arcade anymore?”

“I see where you’re going with this and I’m not falling for it. Yes Stevie, Johnston’s and Hawkins’ only arcade have fallen completely out of favor with I, Eddie Munson, for the rest of my days.”

“Okay, so leave.” Steve deadpans, having expected this outcome.

“Also, a declaration like that only works with your full name, Eddie.” Dustin calls back to them.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up you dork.” Eddie waves him off, then changes gears, “So, Steven, what frivolities shall we partake in whilst our hellions engage in their own chaos?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Okay, okay, hold on, give me a second to try and figure that one out.” he says, pretending to sort through Eddie’s words as if he hasn’t spent enough time around the lot of them to understand what he’d said immediately... “I was going to hit the pinball machine, how about you?” “Ooh perfect!” Eddie rubs his hands together as if that’s something he should be mischievous about. “That SOB S.O.H. is going down today, Stevie. I can feel it.”

So, Steve watches Eddie cajole and smack and tilt and praise the Star Wars branded machine in one of the far corners of the place for the next hour, never getting close to his “sworn arch nemesis” S.O.H.’s high score on the machine. 

“Damn that jerkward!” Eddie complains, kicking one leg of the machine in frustration after his last quarter is gone.

“Jerkwad?” Steve splutters, “No ‘Terrible Archduke bent on World Domination’? ‘Hellbound scum of the earth’? ‘Rancid-breath-having Satan’s-asscrack-smelling bitch of the highest degree’? C’mon man, Eddie Munson can hurl better insults than ‘jerkwad’.”

Eddie just stares at him, mouth agape.

“What? You act like I’ve never spent time around you, Eds. Now get out of the way,” he nudges Eddie out of the way of his machine, and drops a new quarter into the slot. “It’s my turn.”

For the next four hours, Eddie stands rooted to the spot as he watches Steve use a whole three quarters on the machine. The first two times, he beats Eddie’s score, then his own again, stealing the second place spot first from him, then from himself, entering E.M. into the machine each time. 

The last quarter however, the longest game he’s seen yet, Steve manages to beat S.O.H.’s high score. 

“Holy shit!! Steve, you did it! Take that you sonofabitch!” he exclaims, pointing accusatively at the small display scrolling “NEW HIGH SCORE!” in orange letters across it. “You gotta actually put in your initials this time, Stevie.”

Steve just gives him a crooked smile, then shrugs, turning back to the machine to enter an S, an O, and a H into the field.

“No..No, Steve! You can’t let that asshole take the credit! That was your win, Harrington! That wa—” Eddie cuts himself off in realization.

Steve’s still smirking at him. “Yeah, Eds?”

Asshole.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah, Eds?” he repeats.

“What’s your middle name?”

Steve grins wider. “Otis. Why? What’s your middle name, Eddie?”

The bastard.

“I…hate you.”

“Aw c’mon Eddie, don’t be like that!” Steve laughs, following him back through the arcade and out the front door.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I don’t wanna look at you, I don’t wanna—oh gOD fucking damn it!!”

There’s snow falling softly to the wet cement at his feet.

“It’s snowing.”

“Yeah, Steve, thanks for pointing that out.”

“You’re welcome, Eddie.”

Eddie shoots him a glare, only to find the smug bastard smiling at him still. His cheeks are flushed, there’s big clumps of snow in his hair, and he looks so goddamn pretty it hurts.

“Awe, sweet! Snow!” Lucas’ exclamation from behind them breaks Eddie’s reverie of Steve’s unfairly attractive face.

The rest of the party troops out from behind him, each expressing their own excitement about the weather. 

“Oh gross, it’s snowing.”

“Thank you, Mike,” Eddie agrees, pointing at the teen, “At least someone here has some sense.”

There’s a sudden warmth over his shoulder as Steve leans close, “I’ll get you to like Christmas somehow, Eds.” The warmth is gone just as soon as it arrives, Steve peeling away nonchalantly to give him a quick wink before starting to herd the cats.

As improbable as that is, Eddie can’t help but believe him.

steve being a whiz at pinball comes from this post by @findafight

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

[padawansuggest]

Real take: I like Star Wars. I like the prequels because they have more fleshed out world building than the originals. I like the originals because it has a compelling storyline and character building. I like the cartoons because they do things that live action cannot. I like the children’s show Young Jedi Adventures and I think it’s both cute, extremely full of world building, and it’s designed to bring back the cartoon storyline of learning a lesson every episode that young children can relate to. I like the Mandalorian because it took a species with exactly two known people from it, and added a third, but made them a baby, and they were cute, and it shows the morals of Mandalorian adoption and love for children. I love Ahsoka because it took a favorite cartoon series and not only brought it to life, but also it’s funny and very full of world building for both the New Republic Rebellion scene, as well as more Dathomirian nightsister lore. I love a lot of other Star Wars off-shoots because they gave good storylines, they try to bridge plotholes, and a lot of amazing characters and new places to play with. I adore, fucking love, would give my life for Star Wars Visions; the lore and new concepts alone have captivated me and I can and HAVE made posts about things Visions did that no other SW series has touched and I’m so obsessed with the force and it’s aspects as well as just species and such you have no idea I would sell any of you for SW Visions. In fact, I would sell any of you for Young Jedi Adventures too. The worldbuilding alone for those two series is enough to have me vibrating with excitement with every episode. Sometimes I rewatch episodes of them just for random juicy facts that I can use for fics.

But you know why I don’t tell people I like Star Wars in real life? People always lookin at something they hate, and the most incel take on it is that it’s got too many women now. But irl non-fandom people who just want to ‘enjoy the ambiance of the original trilogy’ and me do not get along because they actually hate Star Wars. They genuinely hate Star Wars.

I can give you 50 plot lines in various sections of canon and legends that boiled my blood (tho not that one time Anakin at 12 literally boiled a man’s blood inside his body, that was hilarious his eyes turned black like a demons I’m so obsessed with him), but I’m not gonna talk about those.

Aren’t you exhausted? Wouldn’t it be nicer to gush about how amazing a certain costume design was? How the implications of a certain species makes you so excited you could burst? Wouldn’t you like to talk about how that one character just doesn’t get enough love and it wasn’t because they were fridged it was just because they didn’t get enough love from the fans for being black or female or disabled or something?

I am going to tell you this now, and you’re gonna hate me for it but I’m right: if you didn’t like Mortis because you think the force Doesn’t Work Like That? You don’t like Star Wars.

I’m tired of interacting with comments on commercials because it’s full of idiots crying about more women, a black character, the fact that ‘oh that wouldn’t happen’ as if the High Republic era didn’t literally have some sort of fucked up midichlorian vampire roaming the outer rim killing anyone force sensitive. Obviously they def would have acolytes set before the prequels shove it up your ass.

Anyways. Stop talking about what you hate. Yes, I get it. We are tired of rote pumped stories, but that doesn’t change the fact that there will ALWAYS be someone who hates the story you love, and loves the story you hate. You cannot please everyone, and I for one have found just about all off-shoot SW series individualized and compelling in some way or another.

You know what I did when I starting hating about 90% of all new Marvel movies? I stopped watching them. If I want back in the fandom I have older ones I can watch or simply only interact with fics.

Because Marvel, as much as they Need To Calm Their Shit, isn’t about me, and it isn’t for me anymore.

But I think a lot of you hate so much Star Wars content that you truly need to stop interacting with the series. It’s not for you anymore. And just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not real SW. Not sorry, but this ain’t your scene anymore and you need to find a new one.

[formula-nyoom]

Stars Racing Past-1

Summary: Dispute between the Republic and Trade Federations had not been going well. Sent to try and negotiate, Jedi Masters Sebastian Vettel and Kimi Räikkönen end up crash landing on the desert planet of Tatooine. The last thing they expect to find is a young girl that may be prophesized to bring balance to The Force

Warnings: Violence, Minor character death, mentions of/implied abuse, slavery

A/N: This got away from me, fast. Like I thought this would be one single thing but it’s multiple chapters now and I’m not upset by that.  This is inspired by @fangirl-dot-com Across The Universe fic. Go check them out, they have written some amazing fic series. All relationships in this fic series(except for one) are meant to be platonic and going off this fic's inspiration the reader is meant to be female. Happy Star Wars Day and I hope you enjoy this first chapter in my new series!

~~~

Seb always prided himself on being a master negotiator. But to say the Trade Federation wasn’t willing to negotiate was an understatement.

It was a simple task. The Supreme Chancellor of the Republic had requested that Seb and his fellow Jedi Master, Master Kimi Räikkönen, try to negotiate with the leader of the Trade Federation in hopes of stopping their blockade of the planet Naboo. He told Kimi the negotiations would be short. Seb expected them to come to a mutual agreement and settle things peacefully. What Seb didn’t expect was for the leader of the Trade Federation to try and kill them.

 “You were right, Seb. The negotiations were short.” Kimi said as he and Seb deflected blaster fire with their lightsabers. 

“I didn’t expect them to resort to violence.” Seb told his companion as he sent a blaster bolt back at a battle droid. The two continued to back up down the hallway as the battle droids continued to advance.

“Unless you think they’ll be open to talking again, I think we should head back to the ship and get out of here.” Kimi said, outstretching his hand and using The Force to send a couple battle droids toppling over.

 “Agreed.” Seb nodded, doing the same before the two Jedi took off towards the direction of their parked ship. 

Elsewhere, the Trade Federation’s Leader watched from the control room as the two Jedi made their way to the docking bay. He let out a frustrated yell.

 “They’re going to escape!” He exclaimed, before turning to a projection displayed on his navigation table of a floating head with a hood covering the person’s face. “You said they would be easy to kill!”

“I never said that they would be easy to kill. I expected the Chancellor to send someone else for such a trivial matter.” The hooded person said, though he did not seem shocked or frustrated at the current circumstance. He actually seemed to smile. 

“Send out my apprentice then, if you simply can’t handle two Jedi.” The hooded man said. The Trade Federation Leader looked over at another hooded figure that was in the room with him. A shiver ran down his spine as he stared at them but swallowed it down with snarl.

 “Go after them and make sure they don’t escape!” He ordered the hood figure. The hooded figure silently got up and left the room. The hologram let out a chuckle.

 “Why so frustrated? I assure you, you will get what you want.” He said. The Trade Federation Leader ignored the hologram, focusing back on the camera footage in front of him. 

Entering the docking bay, Seb and Kimi quickly made their way to their ship, with Kimi making haste on getting them out of there. Moments later, Kimi was navigating their SF-16 out of the docking bay and straight towards the stars. But their escape attempt did not go unnoticed, as almost a dozen enemy fighter ships launched after them. Kimi did his best to navigate the now oncoming fire from the fighters.

 “Remind me why we didn’t take the ship that had weapon artillery with it?” Kimi asked

“Because we were tasked with a diplomatic mission. I at least thought our ship wouldn’t have to resort to violence.” Seb shot back. He lurched to the side as Kimi made a sharp left to avoid an oncoming fighter. It was easy to tell that these fighters were being manned by the same battle droids they had previously encountered. Despite them being robotic, they weren’t very smart when it came to ship navigation or artillery, as they missed the SF-16 multiple times and Kimi was able to navigate their ship in a way to lead the enemy fighters to actually crash into one another. 

 “Besides, who really needs weapons when you’re behind the wheel, Räikkönen.” Seb smiled. Kimi didn’t even spare Seb a glance as he maintained concentration on getting them out and away from all the fighting. There were only a few fighter ships left, enough to where Kimi could make the jump to lightspeed safely and not have to worry about being followed. But one fighter was giving him difficulty, causing him to have to constantly dodge its incoming fire.

The ship didn’t move in the same way others did, no it seemed to move like it was being operated by a humanoid instead of one of the Federation’s battle droids. 

 “I’m having difficulty trying to shake this one.” Kimi said as he swerved the ship again to avoid the fighter’s incoming fire.

“Do you think we can jump to lightspeed and deal with them if they follow?”

 “It’s possible but it’s risky.” The ship suddenly jerked forward as it was struck by a shot from the fighter chasing them.

“Well we either keep going until they lose interest or we jump to lightspeed now and hope they don’t follow.” Seb said, lurching again as Kimi tried to avoid another hit. He was unsuccessful. 

Wordlessly, Kimi began to chart their lightspeed jump and entered their desired destination of Corusant. Just as Kimi hit the switch for lightspeed, their ship jerked as it was hit by more oncoming fire. Lights were now flashing and warnings were blaring on various screens. The ship continued to shake and it soon became very clear that their hyperspeed jump was going to send them somewhere that wasn’t their desired destination. The stars in front of them began to blur and stretch out before the ship gave one final shake and disappeared from the current star system.

But not without taking another ship with it.

~~~

The air on the desert planet was hot and dry. That was what Seb was met with when he first stepped out after the ship’s crash landing. Seb wouldn’t say crashed exactly. Kimi was able to land the ship in one piece and everything seemed to be fine, but Kimi was still looking over to see what exactly was damaged. Seb had decided to see what their surroundings were like or see if he could spot anyone nearby to help.

“The ship’s hyperdrive is busted.” Kimi said as he stepped out to join Seb in assessing their surroundings.

 “Is there a way to fix it?”

“Not with anything we currently have. The good news is that our navigation still works so we know which planet we’re on. Tatoonie.” Kimi told him. Seb looked at the sand dunes that seemed to stretch for miles and miles. It was just sand for miles on end.

 “Well I suppose we could pick one direction and go until we find any form of civilization. From what I’ve heard of Tatoonie, it’s not a complete desert wasteland.” Seb told Kimi.

“Do you think that’s wise? Tatooine is on the edge of the Republic star system. Whatever civilization we may find may not be welcome to us.”

 “I think as long as we stick together and trust in The Force, we’ll be fine.” Seb told Kimi as the two set out.

It took roughly an hour of walking before Seb and Kimi came across a settlement known as Mos Espa. Not many people gave the two men glances, either accustomed to travelers coming in and out or they didn’t want anything to do with the two men. But others gave them glares or simply just stared at them. Maybe those people were looking for a fight. 

 “Do you think we should ask around?” Seb asked Kimi

“I don’t know if the locals would be very welcoming to us.” Kimi said as he made eye contact with a particularly rough looking man, who sneered before going about his business.

Something in Seb started to stir as he and Kimi moved further into town. It was very faint, as if pricking on the edge of his senses but too far to fully grasp. But he welcomed the feeling, for he thought it may be helpful. And it was, as it led Seb and Kimi to a shop that may have the ship parts they needed without them having to ask anyone for help. 

The feeling that faintly stirred in Seb’s gut seemed to triple the second his foot crossed the shop’s threshold. This feeling seemed to only be felt inward, but also seemed to hover around his arms, legs and head. It was a very familiar feeling, one that he spent his life channeling. The Force. Seb felt it around him, but also that it was somewhere farther in the shop, he just couldn’t hone in on exactly where it was coming from.

 “What can I help you with?” A woman said as she stood behind a counter polishing a piece of metal. Seb hadn’t even realized she was there til she spoke. Kimi nudged Seb's side, obviously wanting him to do the talking. 

 “Hello.” Seb greeted the woman with a smile. She didn’t look up at Seb, a scowl forming on her face. “Me and my compatriot’s ship has a broken hyper driver and I’m wondering if you may have the parts necessary for us to fix it.”

The woman sighed.

 “(Y/N)!” She yelled for someone, as if ordering an employee, still not looking up from what she was polishing. As the moments passed, Sebastian felt the presence of The Force increase, as if it was getting closer, before a curtain was swept aside and a young girl stepped into the room. The presence of the Force was now almost overwhelming. It radiated from the girl as if it made up almost every fiber of her being. 

“Yes?” The girl quietly spoke.

 “These men need new parts to fix a hyper drive. Get the parts for them.” The woman ordered, motioning her head in the direction of Seb and Kimi. The girl nodded before looking at the two men. She stared at them, but Seb couldn’t tell if she was sensing them same thing that he was.

 “Follow me.” She said before turning around and heading behind the curtain again. Seb and Kimi glanced at each other before following the girl. They entered a room lined with rows of crates filled with various mechanical parts. Whether it be for a ship or droid, this room seemed to have it all. 

“Do you need a completely new hyper drive or just certain parts to fix it?” The girl asked as she grabbed an empty crate.

 “Just a couple of parts. The hyperdrive isn’t completely destroyed, but the main parts are non-functional.” Kimi explained. 

“Did you overload it or get into a scuffle? Some of the scrappers around here talk about getting into ship fights with pirates.” The girl said as she grabbed a part from a nearby bin and placed it into the empty crate.

 “We did get shot at by a ship if that gives you a good idea of the state of our hyperdrive.” Seb said. The girl grabbed another part before glancing at the two men again.

“Are you guys pirates?” She asked

 “We’re peacekeepers. My name is Sebastian and this is my friend Kimi.” Seb said. At that, the girl turned around to get a full look at the two men. She looked at them curiously before her eyes landed on the lightsaber peeking out from under Seb’s cloak.

 “Are you two…Jedi?” She quietly asked.

“You’ve heard of the Jedi?” Seb asked. Trying to hone back in on the feeling, Seb could feel the girl carry an air of nervousness as she fidgeted with the crate in her hands.

 “Stories of the Jedi make their way out here from the people that come by. The depictions of the Jedi differ from person to person.” She said, now looking at the floor.

“What have you heard?” Seb asked. The girl turned around, focusing on grabbing a part from a high shelf.

 “Some say they’re mystical people that fight with laser swords for the good of others. Others say that they can make people and objects float with just a thought.”

The girl stood on the tips of her toes as she tried to grasp at the part that laid on a shelf much too high for her to properly reach. Kimi was about to assist her when the part suddenly flew into her hand. Both Seb and Kimi felt a wave of the Force emanate off the girl as she placed the part into the crate. She turned back towards the two men. 

 “What was your name again?” Seb asked.

“(Y/N).” The girl said. Seb walked closer to the girl, kneeling a bit to be eye level with the girl.

 “Do you know anything about The Force, (Y/N).” Seb asked. The girl hesitated before nodding her head.

“Yea. It’s the main reason Mr and Mrs (L/N) bought me.” (Y/N) said, continuing to look at the floor. Seb was shocked. 

 “You’re a slave.” Kimi said behind him. (Y/N) glared at him.

 “I’m not a slave. I’m a person.” She said, there was now an air of defiance around her.

  “(Y/N), what do you mean The Force is the reason Mr and Mrs (L/N) bought you?” Seb gently asked.

“The…the trader who originally owned me, he only supplied people with ‘force sensitive’ kids, that’s what he referred to us as. Mr and Mrs (L/N) wanted me because I would make it easier to help around the shop.” (Y/N) explained.

Seb took in the girl’s appearance. The clothes she wore seemed to be a bit too big. A mixture of dirt and bruises littered her arms. Seb looked at her face and saw how young she was. She couldn’t be more than 11 years old.

 “Are they nice people?” He quietly asked. (Y/N) now gripped the crate tightly and was about to speak when-

“(Y/N)! Hurry it up! There’s repairs you’ve got to help with!” The woman at the front of the store, Mrs (L/N) as Seb and Kimi now knew as, yelled. (Y/N) flinched.

 “I’ll be right there!” She yelled back. She tightly clutched the crate full of parts, heading over to another shelf and grabbing one more part before heading back to the front. Seb and Kimi watched her as the curtain fell back down.

 “You felt it too, right?” Seb asked Kimi.

“Yes.” Kimi said.

 “Do you think she could be The One?” Seb asked.

“It’s very much possible. The Force seems to flow through her like a running river.” Kimi said. “But she could just be very in tune with it too. That prophecy is centuries old. It could still just be fiction.”

 “But we’re both in agreement that this is a terrible environment for her to be in, right?”

Kimi nodded.

“Do you think you’ll be able to negotiate to convince the woman to let (Y/N) come with us back to The Temple? Or will we have to use a different method?” He asked.

 “Always negotiate first. I don’t want to have to resort to tricks like that unless absolutely necessary.” Seb said before drawing the curtain back and stepping back into the front of the store.

The woman was still at the front counter, now taking parts out of the crate (Y/N) had previously carried and jotted down numbers on a pad of paper. (Y/N) now stood at a repair table that was in the corner, next to a man. (Y/N) briefly glanced at Kimi and Seb as she held a pair of wires for the man to solder together. Seb walked up to the counter.

“How much for the hyperdrive parts and the girl?” Seb asked. He hated the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Referring to a living person as just some object to buy disgusted him, but it was necessary in hopes of being able to get (Y/N) out of her current situation. He needed to use his negotiation skills to the best of his abilities for this to work. Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on Seb now. 

 “She’s not for sale.” The man said, putting his tool down and placing a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, gripping a bit too tight. Seb wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the wince of pain that showed on (Y/N)’s face. 

 “I have the credits. To pay for both the parts and the girl.” Seb said calmly, turning his attention to the man. The man walked over to Seb.

 “The parts are for sale. The girl isn’t.” The man said, getting into Seb’s face. 

 “I employ you to reconsider.” Seb adjusted his cloak to reveal his lightsaber.

“You’re threatening me, Jedi." The man spat. “You may think you hold authority but your kind aren’t welcome here. Now either make your purchase or get out!”

Negotiating wasn’t working for Seb for the second time today. There was something else Seb could try, but he knew that if it backfired then he and Kimi wouldn’t get the girl or the hyper drive parts. And Kimi and him sadly knew which one was more important at the moment. Kimi was right that it could just be some prophecy collecting dust back at the Temple. Seb glared at the man before sighing.

 “We’ll take the parts.” Seb said, he turned around and placed an amount of credits on the counter. He didn’t dare glance at the woman as she handed him the parts. As him and Kimi left, Seb turned around to get one last look at the girl. He looked at the girl, heartbroken, as she wore a look of both devastation and resignation. The only other way to get her out of this situation were not the ways of the Jedi. He knew that the only other peaceful option he had was to leave without her and hope that he could find a way to come back and get her out of there properly.

 “May the Force be with you, (Y/N).” Seb said. He then turned around and left the parts shop.

Seb trusted that The Force would allow for his path to cross with the girl again. 

~~~

(Y/N) couldn’t tell if the stars were brighter or dimmer tonight as she glanced up at the night sky. She hoped they would be brighter, considering the encounter with the two men she had today. They were a nice change from the regular people she encountered on Tatoonie. They were nice. Something about them made (Y/N) feel safe. And Sebastian asked if he could buy her, but (Y/N) could tell it wasn’t in a malicious way, he wanted to get (Y/N) out of her bad circumstances. But it didn’t work and Sebastian and Kimi had to leave. 

(Y/N) looked from the stars to the speeder she was repairing as she continued to think about the two Jedi. She had heard stories about how the Jedi fought to bring peace and good to those around them. She wished Sebastian had fought a bit harder to allow her to leave with them, either with words or the weapon strapped to his belt. But then again, (Y/N) never expected anyone to stand up for her. She was just a slave to two cruel people. (Y/N) looked back up at the stars. They were definitely dimmer tonight. 

“We’re closed!” (Y/N) heard Mr (L/N) yell from inside the repair shop. (Y/N) went back to repairing the speeder. It was probably just a late night traveler who needed their ship fixed. (Y/N) knew they would unfortunately need to wait till tomorrow to get any type of part or repairs. Mr and Mrs (L/N) were strict with their business hours. They were strict with a lot of things. 

“I already told your two buddies who came in here earlier that your kind aren’t welcome here!” (Y/N) turned around so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. Did Sebastian and Kimi come back for her? She quickly placed her tools down and headed back inside the repair shop.

 “My husband already told you, we’re closed!” Mrs (L/N) voice drifted from the entryway as (Y/N) peaked her head out to see who they were talking to. A figure dressed all in black stood at the entrance, a hood covering his face. He held a weapon in his hand. It looked similar to the one Sebastian and Kimi had, but more sinister. There was one other thing about the figure that (Y/N) could sense. His presence was like Sebeastian and Kimi’s, but it didn’t seem friendly at all. It felt dark and sinister like the weapon he held in his hand. He reminded her of a phantom.

The figure ignited his weapon, casting a red hue over the dark room as a bright red blade made of light appeared out of the end of the weapon. (Y/N) felt a chill run down her spine.

 “You think that scares me?” Mr (L/N) asked, walking over to the figure. “I told you we’re clos-”

The bright red blade skewered straight through Mr (L/N)’s chest as the figure cut off the man speaking. (Y/N) let out a gasp as Mrs (L/N) let out a scream. The figure withdrew his weapon from the man’s chest and the body fell to the floor. Mrs (L/N) continued to scream but was quickly silenced as the figure advanced on her and struck her down with his blade. Her body crumpled to the floor next to her husband. (Y/N) stood frozen in shock and fear as she stared at the two bodies. Even if they weren’t good people, (Y/N) would have never wished them to be dead. But now they were. She was brought out of her thoughts as she made eye contact with the figure. Sinister yellow eyes stared back at her (e/c) ones. 

Run!

(Y/N) felt as if the universe was screaming at her but she didn’t need to be told twice as she turned around and bolted in the direction of her speeder. She had no doubt that the figure was following behind her and she tried to send various shelves crashing down behind her in hopes of slowing him down. Some of them she didn’t even touch and yet they fell anyway. 

Scrambling onto the speeder, (Y/N) didn’t have time to worry about if it was fully repaired or not, she just continuously turned the key and pleaded with the universe that the speeder would start. On the third turn the speeder’s engine sputtered and roared to life. (Y/N) quickly looked behind her to see the figure shove a fallen shelf out of the way and advance towards her. Adrenaline rushed through the girl’s body as she desperately pushed down on the gas pedal and started to speed away from the figure and out into the desert before her. (Y/N) didn’t have time to worry about not having goggles, or gear or anything for that matter as sand dunes barrelled past her vision. She only focused on trying to breathe and getting far away from the phantom that was chasing her. 

On top of the mixture of fear, adrenaline, and panic, (Y/N) felt something else. Something pulling her in a certain direction and (Y/N) decided to trust it, hoping it would lead her to help or safety. 

~~~

Kimi had hoped he could get the repairs done before nightfall, but the sun had set long ago as he continued to fix the hyperdrive. Seb on the other hand had managed to contact the Order back on Coruscant and update them on their current situation.

“Unfortunately, the Trade Federation was not up for negotiating and we ended up crash landing on the planet known as Tatoonie after they tried to shoot us down. Kimi’s currently fixing the hyperdrive and we should be able to depart shortly.” Seb explained. In front of him was a small hologram of an older gentleman wearing similar robes to Seb and Kimi’s as he sat in a chair.

 “I’m sorry the negotiations didn’t work out but I’m happy to hear that you two are alive,” The man said.

 “There’s something else, Fernando.” Seb said. “Do you remember that prophecy? About one that will bring balance to The Force?”

The man nodded, but shrugged his shoulders.

 “Yes, but that prophecy hasn’t been spoken about in a long time.” He said. Seb’s eyes glanced out the ship’s front window, staring out at the sand dunes before shifting his attention back to Fernando.

“I believe that me and Kimi may have found them here on Tatooine. A girl who’s about 11 years old.”

 “And how can you be so certain?” Fernando asked.

“Her presence with the Force is something I’ve never felt before. And she used it with such subtlety and ease that not many untrained in The Force could manage” Seb said. “Unfortunately her “owners” wouldn’t let her come with us. I hate the idea of leaving her behind, especially with her current living circumstances, but The Jedi don’t hold much authority here on Tatooine.”

Fernando started to explain something about Tatoonie not having much of a government for the Republic to warrant sending Jedi to help with the planet’s matters, but Seb’s eyes and ears were more focused on the sand dunes outside. There was a distant roar from something Seb couldn’t identify, but as he squinted he saw something appear on the horizon. It seemed to get bigger and bigger as Seb realized it was heading in the direction of their ship. As it continued to get closer and closer, Seb felt the same feeling he felt when he and Kimi first entered Mos Espa.

 “Fernando, I need to call you back.” Seb said, ending the call before the man could respond as he hurriedly exited the SF-16. 

By now Seb could make out what was coming towards the ship: someone on a speeder. He didn’t need to wait for it to get closer to identify who was on the speeder. He knew it was (Y/N). But as her speeder got closer, so too did something else as Seb noticed another speeder chasing behind her. (Y/N) seemed to be miles ahead of the person chasing her, but Seb knew that miles could turn into seconds quickly.

 “(Y/N)!” Seb called out to her, waving his hands in hopes of encouraging the girl to go faster. (Y/N) didn’t need any encouragement, pressing her foot harder on the throttle as soon as her eyes landed on Seb. But as her speeder got closer, the person chasing (Y/N) threw out his hand in front of him. Suddenly (Y/N)’s speeder took a nose dive into the sand, sending the girl flying and crashing into the sand.

By now, Seb’s yelling had caused Kimi to step outside the ship to see what warranted the commotion. He noticed the girl in the sand and then the speeder with a black robed figure getting closer and closer to her.

 “Seb, get to the girl and get back to the ship. I’ll slow the other one down.” Kimi directed before taking off towards the two. Seb didn’t have time to question his friend as he took off towards the girl.

(Y/N) wiped the sand from her eyes as she tried to get up, but the daze from being sent flying off a moving speeder did not shake easily. She managed to find her bearings and sat up but then remembered why she was all the way out in the middle of the desert in the first place and quickly looked behind her to see the speeder that was chasing her come closer and closer. (Y/N) tried to scramble up into a standing position, but her franticness made her feet continually sink into the sand. Just as the figure was getting to be seconds away from the girl, his own speeder took a nosedive. But instead of being sent forward, he was sent flying backwards. The figure managed to plant his feet in the stand and skidded back, still standing.

 “(Y/N)!” A hand landed on (Y/N)’s shoulder and she looked to see Sebastian next to her. (Y/N) felt relief flow through her at the sight of the man.

“Sebastian! He’s after me! I don’t know what he wants but he killed them! They’re dead!” (Y/N) exclaimed as she clutched Seb’s arm. 

 “Come on. We need to get you inside!” He quickly helped her up and ushered her towards the ship as Kimi unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and slowly stalked towards the figure, who ignited his red bladed lightsaber. 

 “Here, sit down.” Seb ushered the girl to one of the seats on the ship once they were inside. “Take some deep breaths. Are you hurt?”

The girl shook her head.

 “Ok. That’s good to hear.” Seb gave the girl’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then regretted it when the girl winced and quickly let out an apology. Seb looked over his shoulder to see that Kimi was now engaged in combat with the phantom figure. Seb focused on the red lightsaber that swung and deflected Kimi’s attacks and he knew that they needed to get away quickly.

 “Buckle up. We’re getting you out of here.” Seb said to the girl before heading over the console to power up the ship. Seb hoped that Kimi had finished fixing the hyperdrive because they were going to need to use it very soon. 

(Y/N) fumbled with the seatbelt before managing to click it into place. (Y/N) chanced  a glance out the ship’s open door and saw Kimi fighting the phantom-like figure that had chased her. Kimi’s blue lightsaber clashed with the figure’s red one as he swung and easily dodged the phantom’s incoming attacks. (Y/N) was in awe at the Jedi’s combat abilities as Kimi feinted his attack in time to almost land a solid hit. But the phantom seemed to be just as quick and was able to side step out of the way.

By now, Seb had fully powered up the ship and got it ready for take off. He ran to the open door and called out to Kimi.

“Kimi! Come on!” Seb yelled. Kimi deflected an incoming slash from the phantom and thrusted his hand out in front of him, sending the figure flying backwards before he turned around and ran towards the ship. Seb was already in his seat, buckling himself in by the time Kimi shut the door and got into the pilot’s seat. 

 “Did you fix the hyperdrive?” Seb asked.

“We don’t have time to worry about that right now.” Kimi said as the ship lifted off the ground and Kimi piloted it towards the night sky. (Y/N) clutched the edge of her seat tightly as she felt the effects of G-Force caused by the steady ascension through Tatoonie’s atmosphere, her heart still hammering in her chest. The ship rose higher and higher until it was far enough away from the phantom and Tatoonie’s own gravity as the ship now floated amongst the stars.

(Y/N)’ stared ahead and leaned forward in her seat. Stretching out into the vast infinity of the universe, she’d never seen this many stars in her life. Tatoonie made the stars feel so far away. But now, as she sat in this ship, with two men who just saved her life, (Y/N) had never been so close to the stars until now. It was beautiful

Sebastian looked at the awe struck girl as she took in the view in front of her and he couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it.” He quietly said. “I marvel at it every time I lay my eyes on the stars.”

 “They’re so much brighter from up here.” She whispered, her eyes still filled with stars. There was peaceful silence between the three for a couple of moments before Kimi placed his hand on the hyperdrive accelerator.

 “Moment of truth.” He said, pushing the stick forward. (Y/N) watched as the stars began to bleed together into lines, stretching faster and faster as the ship dipped forward and everything felt like it was being pulled before the SF-16 blinked out and away from Tatooine.  

[athenamikaelson]

War of Scars - A Luke Castellan Story

PART 1

Thunder Daddy is Real?

Word Count- 3.7k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, gore, fighting, some mature content 

“What the actual fuck is a half-blood?” 

I scream to Keiko as she grips the steering wheel of the stolen Passat we were now flooring down the vacant back road of New York. Keiko’s short, white-bleached hair stuck up as if she’d just been electrocuted, and a look of concern in her dark eyes as she glanced between both front-view mirrors. I tried to figure out what she was so worried about as I glanced through my passenger seat mirror but was only met with the darkening road. The red cast from the taillights shone a light on the passing forest and trees. The branches from the trees cast shadows over the backroad, a small shiver goes through my back as I imagine that they look like limbs and arms reaching for our car as we drive away. As if begging us not to drive any further. I want to yell to them that I don’t want to go any further either, that I want to go back home. Home to my mother and father, a mother and father that no longer want me I remind myself, and home to my brothers who probably don’t even know I’ve left. 

“A half-blood is what you are Y/N.” 

Keiko’s words snap my attention back into the car as I turn to her with an annoyed look. I can feel the tips of my nails scratching against the skin of my palms, reading to break the already calloused skin. A nasty habit I picked up a few years ago.

“Ya, that’s what everyone keeps telling me! But that doesn’t answer what the fuck it is!” I can feel the breaking of skin as I dig my nails deeper, trying to ground my feelings and stop another outburst from happening. 

“Do you remember all those stories I used to tell you about the Greek Gods and myths?”

Keiko’s eyes briefly meet mine for the first time since I watched her steal this car over 3 hours ago. I think over what she said. The stories about the woman who the goddess Athena turned into a snake lady, and the man who stole fire from the Gods just to give to humans come to mind. I slowly nod my head at her, hoping that this isn’t some psychotic break she’s having because I’m on the verge of having my own right now and this car is already tiny as fuck. Two people freaking the fuck out would not be a good idea. 

I watch as Keiko’s chest rises and falls deeply, her ACDC shirt that she had stolen from a lost and found at school stretches at the movement. 

“All those stories I told you, about the Gods, Zeus, Posideon, Hades, and all the others,” She turns back to look at me, “they’re all true. And one of them is your biological parent,” Her face scrunches up as she goes back to look at the road, “well technically not biological per se since gods don’t have DNA.” 

She goes to continue speaking but stops once I let out a laugh that comes deep from the back of my throat. I watch with scrunched eyes as she stares at me in slight worry I hunch over gripping my stomach as more laughter rises out of my mouth.

“Are you ok?”

Keiko’s worried voice comes from beside me and I sit up and wipe stray tears from my eyes. 

“Am I alright? I should be the one asking you that question, you’re the one saying that the almighty thunder daddy Zeus is real, and then saying that one of his buddies is my parent.”

Keiko’s face scrunches up in disgust and she casts a glance to the star-covered sky for some reason.

“You really shouldn’t talk like that, the Gods don’t like to be disrespected.”

Her worried expression halts my jokes as I stare at the now serious face in front of mine. Keiko has never been the one in this friendship to care about following the rules or being scared of anything, she’s the fearless one. So why the hell does she look terrified at the talk of a bunch of fictional deities?

“Ok, Kio the joke was funny for the first five minutes but I want the truth now. Why did my parents kick me out after saying I’m not theirs and that you’d know what to do?” 

I try to cover up the slight break in my voice at the mention of my parents, or adopted parents I guess, telling me that after 18 years I wasn’t theirs. Flashes of my caring mother holding me when I was a child telling me that I was a gift to her, that she would never let anything happen to me. Was all of that some sick lie?

“Y/N listen to me,” Keiko catches my attention, “I’m not lying to you. Your mother or father is a god. A Greek god. Which makes you a half-blood, half mortal half god. And because of this, it means being out here in the mortal world is going to get you killed. I was sent here, as your satyr to protect you until the time came where I’d take you to camp. I’m not sure why it’s taken this long for the monsters to catch up to you, most of the time half-bloods are brought to camp around 12. But you being 18 brings up some questions. I think your parent is a smaller god that’s why there hasn't been much focus on you.” 

I can feel my mouth start to dry up from the air entering my now-opened mouth. I’ve been staring at Keiko with wide eyes the entire time she's been going on about gods and death and shit. She must have noticed my lack of response because she stopped talking and looked at me. Her serious expression brings a wave of anger through my system which is the final breaking point for the palms as my nails break skin and a warm liquid coats my nails. 

“Stop the car.” 

Three words are all I say to her as I unbuckle my seat belt.

“What?”

I turn to Keiko, my teeth grinding against one another.

“Stop the goddamn car. I’m done being lied to. My parents have lied to me my entire life and now my so-called best friend is making fun of my shitty life with made-up fairytales. So stop the fucking car or I’ll jump out myself.” 

“I’m not stopping, we can’t if we want to make it to camp as soon as possible. And we’re going,” Keiko glances at the speedometer, “64 miles per hour. If you jump out of the car now you’ll die.” 

I look out of the forest and think of all that has happened in the past 12 hours. 

“It’s not like I have anything to lose. I’d rather be mangled and dead than sit in this car with you, driving to god knows where, while you tell me a bunch of lies.”

I hear a deep sigh come from Keiko and wait a moment to hear whatever bullshit she’s about to start spewing at me but it never comes. Instead, I feel the car start to accelerate, and a few words in an unknown language spill from her mouth. 

“Put your seatbelt on.” 

Keiko’s voice comes out harsh and deadly as I watch her grip the worn steering wheel. Her frantic gaze moves from the back of us to the dark road ahead. 

“I’m not putting my seatbelt on, just stop the car already.” 

I try to argue back at her but she just lets out a huff of air and reaches over the center console of the car, grabs my seatbelt, and snaps it back into place. I watch her with wide eyes at the fucking audacity of the bitch. I go to yell at her but she raises a single finger at me, just like a mother who’s had enough of her child talking would. 

“We’re being followed.”

Her dark eyes move frantically all over the place as if she sees something I don’t. Ok, maybe she is losing her mind. Fuck now I feel like an asshole. 

“Listen Keiko maybe we should just take some deep breaths and talk this through. Cause it seems like right now some of us are going a bit crazy. And by some of us, I don’t mean me.”

I lightly raise a finger and point at her. I go to laugh at my joke but the car jolts forward as if we’d just got rear-ended.

“What the-”

“It’s right there shit!” 

Keiko slams her leg onto the gas pedal but it doesn’t seem to do much help as another hit comes from behind us. My long legs bang against the dash of the car as I look behind us trying to figure out what asshat doesn’t know how to drive, but I freeze when I see nothing there. No headlights, no cars, nothing. We’re the only ones on the road. 

“There you see it! You see I’m not lying! I can’t tell what creature it is but it’s big and has wings so that crosses out giants, thankfully.” 

Kieko glances between the front and me and her face falls once she reads my features.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? There is nothing there.”

I turn to the back of the car and point to the vacant road behind us. Keiko turns around and her eyebrows raise.

“No, it was right there.” 

But as she turns back around to face the front, I jump from the loud yelp that escapes her lips as she appears to see something before us on the road. Something I can’t seem to see. What I don’t see coming either is the tight right turn Keiko makes to miss the invisible “creature.” I grasped onto the passenger side door and turned wide-eyed to her. About to yell at her when the driver’s side of the car is lifted and I feel my heart fall to my ass as I watch the trees that were once reaching and calling for me, get their wish as the car is thrown into the woods. 

“Y/N, come wake up, Y/N!” 

I hear muffled voices come from above me as cold winds envelop me. I must be in heaven, God must be calling for me. I try to open my eyes but the overwhelming pressure in my head urges me to keep them closed for just five more minutes. I’m about to give in to the thought when a sharp pressure hits the side of my cheek, shocking me awake.

I abruptly sit up but quickly regret it when a pounding pain comes from every part of my body. My eyes can’t seem to register my dark surroundings either as more pain enters my frontal lobe. 

“I’m sorry I did that but I need you to get up, I don’t know where the chimera is, but I can feel it’s close.” 

Kieko, that’s Kieko. My brain tries to get me to register her words but the throbbing in my head is halting any thought process from going on. Another wave of red pain goes through my body as I feel an arm wrap itself around my waist and lift me.

“Do you think you can walk?”

A voice asks me. No, not a voice, Kieko’s voice. Kieko is talking to me. I try to shake my head as if to fight away the overwhelming urge to close my eyes and lay down and sleep for the foreseen future. 

“Get up and walk”. 

A voice comes into my head. Why does my subconscious sound so manly and bossy? But I listen to it as I feel my feet try to move one after the other. The overwhelming pressure coming from my entire body though makes it feel as if I’m dragging two cinderblocks on each leg. 

“OK, good. We’re about a mile from camp I think if I got my constellations correct.” 

I finally can get my eyes open as I stare at Kieko beside me. If I wasn’t feeling like absolute dogshit right now I’d laugh at the image of her short body leaning awkwardly to the side trying to carry my taller one. I try to lean off of her slightly to give her help but her grip tightens on me.

“Don’t, you got banged up pretty hard in the accident. I thought I had lost you for a moment there, but it was my mistake for thinking you’d ever let death take you this young or without your approval.”

Kieko lets out a small laugh which quickly turns into a cough as she winces in pain.

“Are you hurt?”

My voice comes out strained and rough, like an old woman who’s been smoking since she was 13 years old. Kieko just shakes her head and picks up the pace of her walking. 

“Just a few scratches, nothing as bad as you. We need to move faster though I can sense the chimera getting closer. The smell of your blood is making it easier for it to track us.”

My face scrunches up at the words. I want to argue to her that there’s no creature out there hunting us and that she is just having a psychotic break but once I feel the cold metallic-smelling liquid move down my face as if it was caressing it, I stay quiet. 

We continue to walk for what seems like hours, or well Kieko walks and I latch on to her and get dragged. I don’t know where the hell she’s going but I have no other choice but to go with her. I lurch forward as Kieko abruptly stops. Her heading whipped around us like a mad woman. 

“Did you hear that?” 

She whispers into my ear. I shake my head in response. And we stand there for a moment before she tightens her hold on me and starts to walk again. Her hand around my waist quickly detaches and I can only watch in what seems like slow motion as she is thrown against a neighboring tree. A sickening crack comes from her body as I watch it fall to the ground. I go to run to her a roar turns my attention to behind me. I can feel my heart beat erratically as I slowly turn to the monstrous being behind me. With a body that must stand above 10 feet tall, a lion stands before me. Wait. No. Not a lion. Defiantly not a lion. 

Acidic bile starts to make its way up my throat as my eyes meet the red beady eyes of a goat, a goat that is protruding from the lion's back. A hissing sound catches my attention as I slowly turn my gaze to the python that has replaced the lion goat’s tail. 

As I stare at the creature I want to pass out. Or maybe I’m already asleep and this is some bad nightmare. But as the lion-goat-snake thing takes a step toward me, with its paws that rival the size of my big head I use whatever strength I have left and run. If I can lead it away from Kieko that's all that matters. 

I don’t have to worry about it not following me as I hear the thundering footsteps catch up behind me. I try to dodge tree after tree, jumping over fallen logs, and feel my sneakers imprint into the mud that has started to form from the light downfall of rain that has started to coat myself and the forest. 

I go to turn right, the downpour of the rain falling harder and blocking much of my already shitty vision. But a burst of heat and flames come from behind me hitting the trees to my right. I whip my head around to see smoke coming from the lion-goat-snake thing and curse to myself. Of course, it can breathe fire too. I try to go to my left but a searing pain catches on my back as I drop to the ground. 

I lift myself on my elbows as I watch the monster lift its large paw and lick the red liquid off of its nails as if it were mocking me. Its eyes glint with malice as the goat lets out a strangled noise.

“We’re a gift from Athena.”

A strangled hiss comes from the snake's mouth.

 I go to close my eyes and just accept my fate but stop when my manly subconscious chimes in again. 

“Get up and fight, you’re a warrior. Grab the stick next to you and fight back. Make it bleed. If it can bleed it can be killed.” 

God, when did I become so melodramatic? But I realize manly me is right, if I die this thing will go back for Keiko. The monster continues its prowl toward me as I keep eye contact with it. Hoping it doesn’t see my right hand that has grasped onto the stick by my side. I wait until the lion opens its mouth, probably to light me on fucking fire and that’s when I strike. 

I lift myself onto my knees and lurch forward with the stick in my hand and as the lion opens its ginormous mouth and I see the start of embers begin to light in its throat I stab the stick right down into it. I loud howl of pain comes from the creature as it tries to dislodge the stick that is now protruding from its mouth. I watch for another moment as the goat and the snake move around frantically trying to help their injured creature. But I know if they do succeed in getting that out I’m fucked so I push myself up with a hiss. The overwhelming smell of blood coming from my back, the more I move the harsher the pull and pain. But I'm not letting the ugly motherfucker be my demise. 

I come up from behind the creature, which is now facing away from me with its entire focus on dislodging the stick, and I leap onto its back. The goat and the snake are the only ones to notice my arrival as they start hissing and making whatever strange noise the goat is making. I grab onto the fur of the creature to keep myself upright and I grasp the snake into my hands. It thrashes in my hands, its cool slimy body almost making me drop it as I try to wrap the snake around the goat's throat. I pull in the opposite direction with all my weight as the hissing constricts until I hear the crack of the goat's neck. The strangled snake and the now dead goat have caught the attention of the lion who has finally dislodged the stick and has now noticed me.

The lion roars so deeply that it makes my body shake. I would almost feel bad for killing its friends/body sharers if it wasn’t trying to y’know fucking kill me. The lion stands to its full height and starts to thrash its body as a means to get me off. I quickly grasp the curled horns of the goat as a means of stabilization. But as the thrashing gets harsher I hear a sharp snap as I’m thrown against yet another tree. 

Bark scratches up my already bloody back as I let out a loud wail. The rain from before crashing down all around me thunder shakes the earth and forest and lightning strikes a nearby tree. But my attention is fully on the lion who has now started its attack on me. I can sit there as I lift my hands to protect my face as the lion comes rushing at me. 

I sit there drenched, cold, and bloody waiting for my demise, but nothing comes. I slowly open one eye and flinch as I see the lion staring at me. But it’s not moving. It’s not breathing either. Its once hatred-filled eyes are now glossed over with death. My gaze goes from its haunting eyes to its chest where the goat horn I had cracked off is now lodged into the lion's heart. Red liquid coated my hands as I loosened my grip on the horn and backed away from the dead creature. 

“How did you do that?” 

I thrash my head to the side grabbing the horn a second time in defense. I halt though when I see Keiko holding herself up against a tree. Blood trickles down her whitening skin as she looks at the monster in awe and slight disgust. She pushes off the tree and starts to walk to me but her knees lock up and she falls to the ground. I push myself back up quickly and crawl to her. 

“Are you ok?”

I quickly ask her, wiping away the blood that has now made its way onto her eyebrows. Keiko sends me an unreadable look. 

“How did you kill the Chimera?” 

I go to answer, but a shock of lightning comes down between us. The only thing I can focus on is the scorching pain that has taken over my body and left arm. My vision goes black as I feel my heart start to give out. 

“We need a medic.” A strained voice yells from beside me. Or is it coming from behind me? I can’t tell. All I can focus on is the searing pain that has taken over my being, I can’t seem to focus on the campers running over to me and Kieko, I can’t hear any more of Keiko's cries for help, and I don’t feel the muscular arms wrap around my body as I feel my heart start to slow down again, everything going back to dark. 

“I think she’s waking up!” 

A loud girlish voice comes from beside me.

“That’s what you said two days ago.” 

Another more annoyed voice talks back. I strain to open my eyes as light crashes against my burning pupils. But I do I open them enough to look up to see dark brown eyes staring down at my Y/E/C ones. 

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood Sleeping Beauty.”

[todorokies]

CARVING PUMPKINS WITH JJK CHARACTERS

including: satoru gojo, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, megumi fushiguro

contents: nothing but fluff with some crack (?) & two horror movie namedrops

a/n: this is a bit rough cus i just wanted to put something out for the 31st but happy halloween everyone!

☆ . . . satoru loves going above and beyond for any project he subjects himself to, always finding efficient ways to add on little fun or niche details for him to be fully satisfied with the results which is why he opts to choosing a pumpkin that would be considered comically larger than the rest in the patch.

you scold him, going on about how inconvenient it is for not only you two but for the workers as well. he simply scoffs, shutting down your concerns by saying,“the bigger the better, baby!”

embarrassment fuels your body as you watch three of the field patch workers hassle with effort to strap the enormous round pumpkin onto a truck for it to be taken home. you glance over at satoru, seeing nothing but specks of light in his eyes with a beaming smile that shines so bright. you could seriously choke him right now.

miraculously, after getting the pumpkin through the door of his home, the carving starts. he changes his mind about the design at least three times even asking you to pitch in for some expertise. after an hour later, you’d come to the conclusion that there’s no way a creative design could be easily done with such huge material; opting to just do a simple smiling face (much to satoru’s dismay.)

☆ . . . suguru had cleared his schedule beforehand for this day, dressing nanako and mimiko warmly for a cool autumn afternoon with you. the day consists of corn mazes, trying candy apples, buying the girls their halloween costumes, and of course, picking pumpkins to carve later in the evening.

the faint dialogue from the movie coraline plays in the background as laughter fills the joyous air. you and suguru provide assistance to nanako and mimiko with their creation while simultaneously giving them the chance to takeover their craft at anytime.

nanako chooses to do a hello kitty design, whereas mimiko did a standard jack-o-lantern face replacing the triangular eyes with hearts. suguru’s pumpkin on the other hand is etched with beautiful meticulous swirls and stars covered from bottom to top.

after the tiresome evening you both put the girls to bed, kissing them goodnight and tucking them in gently. suguru proceeds to then use four flameless candles to light up the pumpkins and put them on the pouch while you set up a new movie; the conjuring.

☆ . . . yuuji is filled with absolute glee when you agree to carve pumpkins with him. he can’t help but fondly smile to himself watching your bottom lip find solace between your teeth whilst your brows furrowed in concentration as you attempt to push your tool through the thick layers.

somwhere along the line, the slimy guts that once reside in a separate bowl, is playful getting tossed around in a war that not one of you can remember who initiated it.

fits of giggles and attempted hushed footsteps behind pieces of furniture can be heard, with not a single care in the world of the eventual mess that you’ll have to clean up. yuuji doesn’t mind though so long as he can be by your side during it.

the fight calms down, the pumpkins get finished, the mess is cleaned up and the two of you are snuggled up in his bed watching a nightmare on elm street. with him providing you comfort whenever the jumpscares get a bit too frightening.

☆ . . . megumi actually prefers to paint pumpkins rather than carve them. his reasoning being that painting provides him an artistic range that pumpkins ironically don’t, however, that doesn’t stop him from indulging in the activity to spend quality time with you.

sitting opposite from each other with old newspapers spread out on the wooden floors of his dorm room, megumi softly dips his thin paintbrush in the white acrylic paint forming tiny ghosts on the surface.

he steals a couple of glances from you and when your eyes finally met his own, his heart skips a few beats with a small pout on his lips once he feels blush creeping up his face. you turn over the pumpkin you were working on and megumi’s mouth slightly agapes.

it’s a person? or something resembling of a person with spiky hair. megumi groans once he figures out you carved —or at least attempted— a portrait of him. he snickers then reassures you that you tried your best, soon setting aside his painted pumpkin he picks up a new one getting ready to carve you a portrait of yourself.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[bouncybongfairy]

Angels Like You

Loki x Fem Reader

Summary: After being pruned by the TVA, you were sent to The Void where you've lived ever since. During a storm Loki comes to your setup, seeking shelter. You allow him to stay and explain your nexus event to him.

Word Count: 2.0k

The context for this story: I based the reader's character after Sigyn who is the goddess of victory. In Norse Mythology, Sigyn is Loki's wife and is known for being extremely loyal. In Loki the mythical god's actual lore, after he kills the god Baldr he is banished to a cave where he is bound to rocks as a poisonous serpent drips venom onto his face until Ragnarok. Sigyn is so faithful she stays with Loki in this cave and holds a bowl above Loki's head to protect him from the venom. I based the reader's actions and relationship on the lore of Sigyn and Loki's romance if that makes sense; Thanks for reading!!

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were sent to the void so long ago that it’s hard to remember what life was like beforehand. It was such a beautiful life, living on Asgard with your mother and sisters. Mother was a baker and made everything from sweet to savory and your father was a butcher. They were in love and always were, newlyweds by the time they were only 17. Everyone in the family helped out with the bakery, one of your favorite things to do was teach your younger sisters how to make different pastries. Taking care of the animals and interacting with so many locals. You threw another stick in the fire, trying to shake your head of all the memories. Your handmade shelter was holding up nicely from the storm currently roaring around you. While you were scavenging recently you found a mini DVD player among a bunch of rubbage. It had the movie Star Wars: Episode II Attack of the Clones which you’ve been watching on repeat ever since. It was comforting to you, especially because of how much the background looks like Asgard during certain points of the film. You had your legs kicked up, eating an unknown form of fruit that you picked earlier when you heard rummaging. You slowly start to get up not wanting to alert the potential threat. Arming yourself with your daggers, you get closer to the entrance of the shelter. Throwing the wooden door open you step in front of it. Unsurprisingly, a Loki stood in front of you smiling as if he was coming to ask for a cup of sugar. Instead of focusing on who was standing before the doorway, you whip your body around. The Loki that you saw was an illusion created to distract you, every single Loki you encountered did this so you were very familiar with this technique. You pressed the blade into his neck, causing him to raise his hands in defeat. 

“How did you get my blades?” he asked, looking quite taken back. 

“These are mine, not yours,” you replied flatly. 

“How did you know I was coming,” he asked, most likely to stall. 

“Because all Loki’s think they're clever by doing so, it’s like your party trick at this point. What is your business here?” you asked. 

“Is that an Asgardian accent I recognize?” he said, dodging your question. 

“What. Is. Your. Purpose. Here?” you ask, backing him against the wall and pressing the blade against his neck so hard that you caused a small scratch on his throat. 

“Okay, cards on the table. I only came here looking for shelter from the storm. Truly had no ill intentions, could you please..?” he asked, insinuating for you to unarm yourself. You did pull the dagger away from his neck but kept them in each hand. 

“I don’t believe you,” you said. 

“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” he said, sitting down and putting his hands in front of the fire, “you know you’re incredibly uncharismatic for a Loki,” he said, using magic to dry his clothes.

“I am not a Loki, and I never said you could stay here,” you said. 

“Okay if you’re not a Loki then why do you have those daggers?” he asked.

“They belonged to a Loki and now they belong to me; end of story,” you said. 

“Wasn’t aware it was pawning for a storytime,” he said giggling. 

“Do you want to die,” you said, moving closer. 

“You think you can kill me?” he asked. 

“Me being able to kill you is irrelevant. I know I can keep you out of my hut, and I know that storm will have its way with you,” you said. 

“Fair enough,” he said, putting his hands up playfully to surrender. 

“Why are you wearing a TVA jacket?” you asked. 

“I am a bit of a consultant, helping them with an inside look into the mind of a Loki,” he said. 

After physically showing your disgust for his loyalty to the TVA through facial expressions. You started roasting a chicken over the fire that was in the center of the shelter. Loki again began to pry about the origins of your accent. You ignored his inquiries and turned the roasted chicken that was cooking above the fire. He was eyeing the food like a lion would a gazelle. 

“I thought you worked for the TVA? Don’t tell me your wonderful new friends aren't feeding you,” you said flatly. 

“Well you know sometimes missions go… askew if you will,” he chuckled then conjured himself a blanket. 

“The TVA discarding lives at will? Can’t say I’m surprised,” you said. 

“And what about you? Clearly, you're Asgardian so what was your nexus event?” he asked. 

“I lived in the villages of Asgard, my family and I lived comfortably. My mother and father ran a foodery. They were given the opportunity to work in the castle’s pantry. Without a second thought, they took the opportunity, especially because it meant proper education for my sisters and me. We were shocked to see the interior of the castle. I couldn’t stop laughing because of how mesmerized I was,” you said, turning the chicken again, “as my sister and I lost our minds, the queen came around the corner. My mother was so upset that she saw me acting foolish, she pinched my forearm so hard it bruised. She took us to our separate rooms before showing my parents around. I didn’t want to be in separate rooms, in our old home, the room we shared was so small and the sudden change was jarring. Once I was alone in my room I broke down into tears, I was only 13 and it was all so overwhelming.” You moved the chicken away from the fire onto a makeshift table. Ripping one of the legs off and setting it on a chipped plate. Loki thanked you before you even handed it to him. After taking a few bites, he stared at you, waiting for you to continue. 

“The next day things were getting easier. I came out of my room and saw a snake slithering outside my door. I picked it up and began talking to it, saying things like ‘If someone else would have found you, they’d make you lunch’ or ‘let's get you out of here before you’re killed’ but after I set it free, Loki shapeshifted out of his snake form. The first thing I noticed were his eyes, they were so bright and his pupils were wide. 

“I was uh- trying to scare you but when you picked me up I had to wait till you set me down to shapeshift back,” he explained. 

“Why would I be scared of a creature that is simply existing?” you asked. 

“You have a point there,” he said laughing, which caused you to join him. 

“After that encounter, it was like we couldn’t stop bumping into each other. Everywhere you went, he'd always end up stopping by even just to share a quick glance with each other. Eventually, things got more serious, and we’d both sneak out to meet each other in the library. Loki loved the library, he explained that when he was to rule Asgard, he’d make his soldiers study basic battle strategy and geography to ensure his glorious purpose wasn’t to be wasted. I always loved romance novels which irritated him beyond no end. One that you remember was about a young king named Angus who was turned to stone by Medusa. His queen Rose was wrapped in his arms when turned, he was protecting her. He thought if he shielded the queen from the serpent's view and it did. The queen could have escaped but she would’ve needed to shatter her king’s stoned body. He was gripping her so tightly that the stone was rubbing her skin raw, but she was so touched that in his last moments, he wanted to be as close as he could to her. The love she had for him was so strong that she couldn’t bring herself to it. So she died in his arms. Aphrodite was so moved by the queen's sacrifice that she turned her body into a rose bush with thorns that completely wrapped around him. To protect his stoned body so she could be with him forever. Loki would poke up and talk about how no king would ever do that. Even if he was right, it didn’t stop you from reading them obsessively.

The night before my 14th birthday, Loki appeared at my window wanting to talk.”

Flash Back:

“I have something to show you,” he said, taking you by the hand and helping you climb down from your window. 

When you got to the bottom, there was a black horse that Loki helped you on. You were scared of getting in trouble but he insisted that nobody would notice. This is when you knew feelings were starting to develop, at least on your end. At first, you were scared to fully wrap your arms around him. He reached behind him and pulled you by your arms closer to him. You now had your cheek pressed against his back, watching his long black hair bounce as the horse galloped. You guys were getting deeper and deeper into the forest, starting to see more animals and thicker trees. When you guys finally stopped, it was starting to rain quite hard. He grabbed you by the waist and helped you down from the huge stallion. Taking you by the hand he began leading you to a cave that was nearby. At first, you were reluctant to go into this dark and foreign entryway. Loki dried your clothes and conjured a lantern. When he lit the cave up with light from the lantern you couldn’t believe your eyes. The cave had rose vines on every section of the wall. Your hand immediately threw your hand over your mouth. 

“Like in that book you love, when I found it I knew I had to show you. I know it’s not much-” you interrupted him by pulling him into a hug. 

“This is amazing, thank you for bringing me here to see this,” you said. 

“I actually didn’t bring you here only to see it,” he said, pulling the book out of his saddle bag. 

The cave’s floor was covered in long grass, which made it very comfortable when sitting on the ground. Loki’s back was pressed against a portion of the wall that he cleared of vines and thorns. You were your back against Loki’s chest as you read aloud to the book. You kept stuttering over words at first, being distracted and flustered. Eventually, you settled and were able to read fluently through the story. You guys stayed there until it began to rise, and right before you parted ways to separate bedrooms you shared a chaste kiss. Ever since that night, you knew Loki was the love of your life. The connection that was growing was strong and undeniable. It remained that way even after time aged the two of you. By the time you guys were 18 the love between the two of you was still as fresh as the roses in the cave. A wedding was being planned and the energy in the air was euphoric. Both of your families were healthy, the kingdom was thriving and you loved each other. Long story short: Baldr invaded Asgard. Loki killed him and saved so many people's lives yet he was punished. Banished to the very cave where your love blossomed in, only now the roses were all dead, yet the thorns remained. When you saw him, he was passed out from the pain. A serpent was suspended above his head, dripping its toxic venom onto his skin. You refused to leave his side, at first he would scream for you to leave. Not wanting your mind to be poisoned by the pain of seeing him so weak. You comforted him and held his head with one hand and used the other to hold out a bowl, catching the venom. You weren’t sure how much time passed, but one day you couldn’t stand the thought of living this way. For your love to be punished for doing what he believed to be right by his people. You noticed Loki still had his two daggers tucked into his pant-line. Knowing you would have to be quick, you emptied the bowl of venom and quickly grabbed his daggers. Using your own head to cover Loki’s body from the venom you start attacking the snake. After severing its head, you passed out from how bad the venom burned your skin. When you woke up Loki was already causing Ragnarok, he had so much pent-up rage. The timekeepers found me and when I was at the TVA pleading for answers, they told me certain events on my timeline needed to play out before Loki was released. Because you were the one who released him, they blamed it on you.

End of Flashback

The Loki you’d just met was looking at you with a pitiful expression. You noticed he picked his chicken clean which made you chuckle. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said. 

“Not your fault,” you said. 

“I know but, that’s one of the most heinous stories about survivors of the TVA,” he said. 

“I’m glad you liked the chicken. I’m going to bed,” you said, setting your cot up. 

“Is it okay if I stay?” Loki asked.

“If you stop asking questions then yes,” you said, extinguishing the fire and going to sleep.

[philtstone]

been trying to put words to why i find psych so unique and effortless in the world of comedy tv and i think ive cracked it. theres a truly excellent approach to storytelling that goes something like this: you pick a high stakes Setting. examples from some Classic media include ancient egypt, space pirates, and in the case of psych: homicide mysteries. all the examples im thinking of are also arguably homages or adaptations to an existing Version of the setting that has expectations or assumptions associated with it. the mummy (1999) was a reimagining of the original horror movie. guardians of the galaxy (2014-2021) borrows and subverts so much of what the audience already knows about classic movies like star wars. (psych is, of course, sherlock holmes). anyway; the setting predisposes itself to more dramatic plot bc inherent to that setting are Stakes. instead of going with the setting-appropriate tone, you commit 200% to comedy through — not the plot — but the DNA of your characters. true, a talented writer will include many deliberate jokes, but the comedy never really turns on and off because your core premise is “watch me put a group of unhinged yet endearing idiots in this major situation and go along with them for the ride”. the more unhinged and idiotic they are, the better, but they have to be setting-appropriate. they have to have the skills and tools to navigate that setting competently or it all falls apart. they’re not bad at their setting, they’re just deeply chaotic. cuckoo bananas. generally stupid (affectionate). they have SO many (complementary) issues.

now comes the most critical part. you tie the whole thing together by also committing 100% to multiple other genres in your already mishmashed genre. when you do romance you do High Romance. when you do drama it is hitting at these characters emotional CORES. and it works because your setting is high stakes and your characters are already three dimensional by being simultaneously hypercompetent and major dumbass. id argue this is a bit different than the more generic works in the indian masala genre or western superhero movie approach because often in those movies its a jack of all trades type situation where there are inserted tracks into a movie thats fundamentally genreless. what im talking about here has fully embraced all 5 of its genres with GUSTO. it’s not slipping in little quips or including one comedy track, it’s always funny. it’s not pairing off two characters for the sake of it, the romance is integral to the core plot of the story and character motivations. its emotional moments are built into the fabric of the story and never afterthoughts.

finally, in order to make the writing work effortlessly (because real life people don’t talk like that) you need a cast with chops and chemistry that makes it all feel organic. there are no breaks or looks into the camera or starts and stops to the emotional and comedic action because the actors embody the spirit of the story so dynamically and work off of each other so well.

like i said, some of my favourite examples of this kind of ensemble comedy-in-a-high-stakes-setting stories are classics like the mummy and more modern works like guardians of the galaxy. it clicked for me the other night that psychs writing reminds me of those stories a lot, but its doubly clever because psych does homage settings inside its already an homage setting and still manages the “watch these idiots in this high stakes situation” bit so well. it’s an entirely different experience from watching a sitcom because the writing never takes you by the shoulder and says “you’re in a sitcom, time to laugh”. id actually argue that psychs weakest episodes are the most sitcom like in flavour. at these stories’ best you’re just dunked into this truly chaotic situation thats made effervescently funny yet also deeply emotional and compelling and dramatic by dint of the characters being Exactly Who They Are All Together. it takes a very talented kind of writer and a special kind of cast to pull this type of storytelling off but when they do. it is so so fun and so so worth it.

[lieutenant-teach]

Being a pro-Jedi fan is super hard.

Stumbled upon a scientific paper ‘The Psychgeist of Pop Culture’ (2024) about ‘The Mandalorian’ and ‘The Book of Boba Fett’ series. It’s divided into many smaller research by various PhDs. The Boba chapters are actually very good.

And then there’s ‘Fatherhood and male emotions’ chapter. About Jedi. About attachment. The authors Keely Diebold and Meghan Sander, PhDs, are claimed as Jedi fans.

Good start. / s Bad enough Din Djarin is called ‘Djarin’ as a name throughout the whole paper (my own pet peeve about the dick move of Favreau and Filoni in the end of Season 3 which is a decision to criticize in itself). Of course, Obi-Wan wasn’t a ‘good father figure’ as claimed by Lucas himself. Neither was Bail Organa. /s

Yeah. Hypocrisy. Hey, ‘Jedi fans authors’, have you actually watched the movies? Sigh. Seriously, ‘the intergalactic therapists’ who were trying to help Anakin to cope with his emotions so much, working with ‘cognitive therapy’ – they suppressed emotions. I just… don’t have any coherent thoughts about that bullshit on the screencap. And – now we defend Palpatine. Just great.

By the way, rewatching Indiana Jones movies, I paid special attention to the moments when someone of the team is left behind and the main characters continue chasing the enemies (just like in the mentioned scene in AOTC). And it’s never presented as ‘left behind and forgotten, heroes don’t care about them’.

What is evident to me is that this all is a piece of banthashit. Mandos with the suppression of emotions – I agree. Jedi? When one of their main proverbs ‘feel, don’t think’?

‘His own interpretation’? It’s not! Why did the authors decide that’s what happened? The point is that Anakin is taught ‘compassion, which … [is] unconditional love, is central to a Jedi’s life. … we are encouraged to love’ by the Jedi, but acts in the way he wants regardless. Screams in the plush Grogu How do people manage to watch obvious in messaging children films with their ass holes?

Frankly, I suspect that these ‘Jedi-fans’ authors just don’t understand and didn’t even try to explore the meaning of ‘attachment’ in Star Wars – it’s not ‘a deep and enduring emotional bond that connects one person to another’, it’s ‘selfishness’. They never tried to google Lucas’s interviews, but only used books about child rearing. This is why we have all this crap in a ‘scientific paper’. I firmly believe that @david-talks-sw, @writerbuddha, @kanansdume, @antianakin, @smhalltheurlsaretaken and other fans could write a whole paper about Jedi and attachments – and this would be real in-depth analysis of the Jedi and Star Wars.

And a rotten cherry on the top of this shitcake I noticed just before publishing – using ScreenRant as a reference not the smartest move, really.

Now how can a reader trust your judgment if you use fucking ScreenRant as a proof? Ah, no, they cannot (see this whole post).