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mandalhoerian · 2 years

Text

Death Before Dishonor | 1

Pairing: darth vader x reader, anakin skywalker x reader

Notes: fem!reader, mandalorian!reader, inquisitor!reader

Summary: You have become the young war hero Anakin Skywalker's right hand in his pursuit to reunite the galaxy in Emperor Palpatine's reign. It's the rumored aftermath of the war between dark and light, but you are a Mandalorian, Jedi and Sith don't mean anything to you, in fact, they are the same existence that led to the destruction of your planet a millennia ago. Their war is something you don't care to know about, you're aware you won't understand anyway, there is a lot you're told to keep your nose out of as just a soldier to obey commands.

One of those things is the distinction between Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker; you weren't told why they must be addressed as two separate beings. Who he is really and who he appears as to the HoloNet confuse you endlessly when they are the same in your mind: both look at you in secret mourning.

You can't afford to find out why.

Warning(s): the reader is fucking UNHINGED, like there's barely any fluff and plenty of dark stuff in there. mentions of death, violence, allusions to smut/sexual relationship. it's a vader/reader story and both of them are twisted. the bond between them is not funny haha its funny weird. ur kinda (!!!) emo yikes sorry abt that lmao but hey at least you have gaslight gatekeep girlbossed your way into inquisitorship, you also respect vader the same way markiplier respects lady dimitrescu, aka "its not a sexual thing its about power" . i love this dynamic hhh

Author's Note: this is like my first story/post on tumblr and the prologue got 60 notes, I'm so happy, thank you to all those who showed their support, honestly I did NOT expect it!

Please don't hesitate to send me any asks/submissions if you'd like to talk more, I would love to hear feedback and your thoughts! I hear there's something called "tag list" and everything, so if you'd like to be notified when dbd updates, please contact me! Happy reading!

Word Count: Over 10K im so fucking sorry

prologue | 1

You had fought by Lord Vader's side for as long as you can remember. It was the clearest memory you have in your life. Only through experience would someone come to know purpose is something this addicting, it really left nothing in a person unrelated to anything other than what it desired. And right now it desired to serve Vader until your last breath.

You didn't lurk in his shadow like a hidden tool to be used, no, but went out of your way to bare your teeth at any kind of threat he pointed his sizzling lightsaber at.

You slashed your way across the stars, blinded by the red bloody victories vibrating the ever-treacherous life in your veins, only to be satisfied with them in a span short as the blinding explosion of a supernova. Yet they seemed to be more addicting in the aftermath of a star storm, leaving an emptiness ravenous for more━━always hungry for more.

Even though being a prisoner of war has elevated you to stand with a strong warrior like no other as him, you believe it is an honor to be allowed not just a few steps behind him, but standing right by his side. Not everybody is strong enough to desire that position. Only the ones who don't owe anything to death itself would do what you do, and oh what an old friend of yours death is.

After Galactic Empire's foundation, the darksaber, the sign of the Manda'lor, has been cemented on your hand as the greatest mockery to your planet, crowning you as the one representing Manda'yaim, and keeping you as a hostage to ensure their loyalty. The Mandalorians may have been engaged in a never-ending civil war to bring the other party down for years, but they didn't take kindly to outsiders trying to bend the knee of another Mandalorian, even when it was their enemy.

However, the outsider they sent to do the job was different.

You remember Vader descending on your planet of desolation, to crush their necks into submission like a blackened god of war carved from soot-black diamond dissatisfied with his subjects; ardent, burning breaths branding the fear of oblivion on all of the clans. He was a mighty, volatile dragon.

You remembers the awe, the catharsis striking your heart like a bolt of thunder, that this creature of pure force and vigor is the true warrior you had been looking to fight for all your life. Most importantly, the honor.

You, despite your identity of a true Mandalorian, once upon a time might have been betraying that heart by keeping a dream of spring instead of wild flames of rebellion; you might have been having visions of a peaceful family tinkering in joy with laughter, with light━━however, those mirages were soon shattered by the ruthless claw of that black dragon the moment he set his eyes on you. The same dragon that clenched your respect and loyalty and in an iron grip, gave you the pain of having ambition and woke you up to the unnamed potential lying deep within you. The shapeless darkness swirling inside your guts like newborn worms turned into snakes, turned into basilisks, and snuffed out even the tiniest specks of hope and light you had for your clan. They didn't deserve your loyalty, they were nothing compared to the almighty strength he radiated like a whole galaxy burning away just like that.

And you happily knelt, instead of cowering in fear, you embraced the slithering, domineering dragon as the one who you wanted to serve, wore his mask as his Inquisitor and in the competition of being the best, stroke down every single Jetii he showed as a target. Your Mando'ade heritage gave you the best advantage of them all, and you fought not because you were told to serve the empire, but because you wanted to wage war under Vader's glory and honor your roots in your own way.

Now they sneered at your name, whispered traitor behind your back, yelled dar'manda at your face as they challenge you to duel after duel to take the darksaber back. They had turned their backs on you right after you were taken to Coruscant, and yet they saw the righteousness in themselves to smear your name in the dirt?

Wear your anger as you gird on your armor, says Vader, and you do, you never forgive them, give them the fury of a thousand dying, screaming stars and continues to maul the galaxy for fugitive Jedi. Every time you succeed, you can feel Vader's respect growing ever so slowly, and that feels like a rare treasure every bounty hunter, pirate and scoundrel is after in the galaxy.

You may have been just a failure as a Mandalorian in the eyes of your clan leader Pre Vizsla, but you will bring no dishonor to Darth Vader.

Inquisitorius was silently protesting you.

What a shocker.

The hidden part of you seeking for acceptance wanted so badly to get to the root of the problem and discard it entirely upon solving it; however, the current you who had bathed in the flames of your master's enlightenment desired to crush those who even dared to attempt disrespecting you —— and that dominant part was feeding off of the shadowy, putrid abomination of a thousand years old primeval suffering of the former, mutating the weakness into something monstrous.

Even though you had shed your skin like a snake and had become a completely different kind of reptile, it still hadn't changed what remained inside and it would never change the attitudes people were going to have towards whatever you liquified yourself to take the shape of. What more did they want from you?

It felt degrading to admit that you would be forever hurt over never being acknowledged, all you ever knew was shame over rejection and homesickness for something more after all. Having bled into your shadow, it was still haunting you to this day like an archaic curse.

Nobody would listen to your voice back at Concordia, you always felt like weak embers of a trampled campfire, barely able to lit yourself back on again with the help of an occasional gust of wind. The loneliness of an entire galaxy —— the empty blackness that laid between stars and planets would fall upon your shoulders, and you would feel as tongueless as The Force, ever-existent but never able to directly make yourself be heard.

Being entirely powerless against a society you were secretly a nonconformist in crumpled your already defeated heart, it was always hell under the sky for you on that Force-forsaken moon. Not only were you a muted oracle, but you had to witness your people perish at the hands of what you had constantly warned them about as well —— had to see your closest family's head roll off his shoulders with what he stubbornly refused to let go of.

Now seeing you were stuck in a cycle just frustrated you. The reality that you still got the same treatment like it was out of some dumb history repeating itself cliché from a holodrama stung you unexpectedly when you had first noticed it, but all it did at the moment was to pour hot oil on your anger. Especially when you finally had someone who accepted you for who you were and more, a person who you harbored unbreakable respect for and would follow to the ends of the galaxy with inexhaustible loyalty.

And some silly childish boycotting by power-hungry ex-Jedi was enough to tip the glass of your sanity and make you plan an entire massacre, just because they were a possible threat to you bringing honor to this man.

Vader looked like an obsidian statue with his unmoving black-cloaked figure standing right in front of the entire window wall, facing the black vastness outside, gazing at the planet engirdled by his hive-like fleet. The Emperor had ordered a siege, and as much as you majorly operated as an Inquisitor, you were also Vader's right hand, meaning your aid was consistently needed aside from Jedi hunting conquests. However, you couldn't even solve one single problem to give your full attention to the current case on your hand.

Your helmet under one arm, contempt-flushed girl that you were tried your darnedest to stop your teeth from loudly gritting as you voiced the unnecessary question as an affirmation of his already established rules. "We are still working on dealing with the holo-faker, my lord."

A couple of heartbeats long of time filled the silence in Vader's headquarters in the spaceship before he slightly turned his head around as if he wasn't sure he heard you correctly. "The holo-faker? He is supposed to be six feet under at this very moment. My orders were crystal clear. What is the meaning of this?"

You wanted to bury yourself in a hole at how his eyes narrowed at the irrelevancy - because he was right. Former golden politician of the previous Galactic Republic, the marvel woman of Naboo, Padmé Amidala, had kicked off the decision to close all the military bases the empire had on capital grounds, thereby triggering the emperor's impatience over silly power games. They were to stand their ground until further orders came from the imperial senate and block all trade and travel routes.

And you were talking to Vader about the holo-faker they were already done working with.

You weren't fretting over having had not obeyed him, but because of not having control over the other inquisitors even about getting the smallest job done —— it affected and delayed everything.

If you were hiding under the cooling steel of your mask, it would be easier to hide the exasperation you were trying to suppress in front of Vader —— even though he always seemed to be aware of what even you yourself didn't know were feeling, as if they were color-coded and were displayed with labels right in front of him waiting to be read aloud. Yet, you still tried to hide away the displeasing details you found would be gum under his heavy metallic boots, so that you could deal with them on your own and your lord wouldn't bother himself with them at all.

He was meant for the glory of the battlefield, the ashen scented blood-red victories waiting for him across the galaxy, Vader was made out of the infrangible amalgamation of sun-soaked gold and black Mandalorian iron —— he certainly was above the clownery happening in his ranks.

He turned to you suddenly. The little hairs on your neck stood on their end with a sudden, blinding flash of a spike in the Force, right after the realization dawned on him, he didn't need to hear from you what went down. Though an endless ocean of stars illuminated him from behind and reduced his form into a shadowy blur, you could easily tell his burning yellow eyes apart.

Shame cascaded down and you had to anchor your gaze down at your feet to remain stabilized. "My apologies, I shouldn't have dared to busy you with trivial matters such as this. I——"

You heard his loud footsteps slowly approaching, each sounding like pillars of concentrated iron thundering down on the ground belonging to a titan.

You didn't fear what his reaction to was going to be to your failure, an army of furies were batting their wings violently in your stomach at the very notion of disappointing him. "Forgive me for my ineptness, I should have done better."

His warning as he reached you felt too feathery for something meant to be alarming. "There is nothing to forgive. Raise your head."

Golden mist clouded your brain upon the close proximity, chilly air of the spaceship turning lukewarm on your skin like you had been resting in a sunbathed arbor for a while.

It was foolish to think this way about a man as lethal as him; bravery and fearlessness were two different things and you were sure you were neither of them.

Your heart betrayed you by humming sleekly whenever he was close and you sometimes wondered if it was because you had become as terrifying as of an abomination just like Vader —— perhaps both of you were tuned to a beastly kind of menace in your ways, who knew?

When you remained succumbed into silence, Vader put his non-mechanic fingers under your chin and raised your head to look you straight in your eyes. The rush of sparks spreading on the skin there shocked you slightly, flinching at the never-ending coyness that washed over you every single time something like this happened. "Never bow to me like that again. You aren't on the level of those incompetent fools."

Vader was nothing but a vengeful, flame-drowned dragon of darkness, extinguishing novas sprouting in the galaxy with void-dipped fingers tasting of sin —— yet, there was undeniable tenderness blossoming as asters and starflowers in his gaze, affection of a primeval being of colossal chaos trying to be so careful in his way of reaching out to not swallow up the subject of his deepest admirations.

It was directed at you and shook you to your core every single time.

You would drown in that bottomless well, not knowing what to call the waters, for never had anybody ever looked at you that way before, you didn't know anything like it, as if you didn't have red on your armor —— as if you were an entity created to be loved and loved only; a starseed of the universe, darling, beloved, dearest.

Like all things truly evil, born from pure star-white innocence.

"I won't idly stand by when petty attempts of competition are slackening my troops." Vader sighed, anger creeping back on his spine as he pulled his hands away from your skin, eyebrows pulled together in contempt.

His inquisitor found the decision unwise, not wanting him to exert himself with idle subjects, for he was a Lord of the Sith. "Lord Vader, you do not need to waste precious time with getting involved in this, you are above that. Leave this to me."

Something in the sentence ticked him off, and you knew very well that Vader never held back when he found disrespect directed at him, but you didn't understand whatever you could have said that upset him this much.

"Very well, then," he said, turning his body back at the glass wall, and both of them stared in silence at the horrid portrait of Naboo, resembling a dead animal surrounded by hungry wasps.

He didn't dismiss you, and he explained the reason why soon enough. "However, it seems that order needs to be brought to my chain of command. You know what you have to do."

Sometimes you couldn't explain some of your own behavior in a way that made sense. Like while sleeping, you always seemed to curl into yourself like an animal would preserve body heat, always clutching your abdomen to yourself instinctively. Acute longing for something so delicate would seep into the hard ice surface of your stinking rotten soul; sad, sad, endlessly melancholic for an unknown loss.

You mused it was for all the things you never had and what they turned you into; the regret it stank with. But that was not it. Your arms would itch to hold, your heart would expand like you had been a saint all along, but as the dawn brought the deepest darkness along with the cold, you would cast those pitiful vulnerabilities down to the hell of your sins and emerge as the newly appointed Supreme Inquisitor.

A durasteel fist of the Galactic Empire never wept, so you turned to scorching hot anger and let the flames evaporate them, relishing in the burning pain bringing sense into you.

Pain was the most uncomplicated emotion of them all, such primitiveness and simplicity eliminating anything that tried to get close, so you only allowed it to be a part of herself. There was no going back anymore. You had already made your choice and it was to fight for Darth Vader, rejecting your entire Mando identity and embracing being a dar'manda —— a state of not being Mandalorian; not an outsider, but one who had lost your heritage, and so your identity and your soul, regarded with absolute dread by most traditional-minded Mando'ade.

You were a Mando'ad no more. To your people, you had no soul. Perhaps that was true, you had sold your soul to the dark dragon to gain power, yet you were still holding onto the darksaber which belonged to your people to spite them all, trapping the souls unfortunate Jedi and traitors to the empire in the pitch-black blade —— unconsciously trying to fill the void where your soul once shone like a lone star with them, but none of them fit. None of them ever would.

It only ever felt mended when you had him. When he had you.

All locked within those moments of heavy hot air, damp breaths, sparks popping on lips stained with burgundy and sin-heavy with unsheathed words, freezing dew clinging at the back of two intertwined bodies, earthquake tremors running down your limbs as you yearned and ached. Furnace hearts pumped lava into the cracks webbing your skins, purified black eyes with the universe captured in them clashed in the dark with a sky blue like it has never met one before —— like two suns crashing into each other and burning everything, melt any darkness, painting you with molten silver and gold so that in their journey the touch would sing and chime with murmurs of starlight.

It is the only light you know, the only light you have ever felt, all of them coming from a darkling; steely pristine skin that crackles with electricity when you touch, a lion's mane for hair and merciless pools of inflamed despair for eyes surrounded by tired black and purple —— an ugly fireborn dragon wearing a celestial's face.

Endlessly pained for something you can't look directly at.

It taught you that fire does not only burn, but it is also a source of light as well.

However, that last part was only for you, who (foolish, one might think) had never feared the flames and pain, who didn't hesitate to soar in the skies, aiming for the sun itself with wings made of feathers and wax, you persisted. And not even once did you feel anything other than admiration, respect and desire to be close for him.

Your eyes are not their former color anymore anymore, you knew, they are as sulfur as his, as if to reflect him somehow, to reach him —— yes, to catch up to him, you didn't want to lose that feeling of destiny, the immeasurable amount of raw strength pouring into your soul through the unexplainable yet tangible bond connecting you to Vader.

You couldn't name it, maybe it was delusional and drunken of you to feel like you were dipped in a novastorm whenever you fought back to back, ever the addictive sensation, but that thing enveloping you in a blanket of apricity and curiously, home, would make the unshaped words hanging about meaningless in the end.

It didn't need to be said out loud, monsters of the same kind would stay with each other nonetheless —— and you were delighted, it was serendipity that he found you, even his acceptance was more than enough.

So you got up, as long as you were needed by him, you would always get up, no matter how deep you had fallen.

Standing around a giant bulky holotable, three inquisitors of different races and genders had their blank eyes on the three-dimensional map of Naboo in front of them, having just been informed by an imperial attendant of the latest news. The silence fallen upon them was swallowed up by the near bustling stormtroopers and anxious military officers attending to their duties, going around the main bridge of the unmoving Star Destroyer one hundred kilometers outside of the planet.

First Brother, a well-groomed Miralian male with shimmery pink skin and diamond-shaped light purple tattoos scattered around his nose area, was the first one to shake off his speechlessness. The luminous blue of the hologram map glinted in his eyes, reflecting a welcome surprise. "The Supreme Inquisitor. Huh."

Third Sister retaliated, the iciness of all the metal surrounding them had seeped into her limbs, she stood motionless but her anger was an alarming red. "I can't believe this."

Eleventh Brother was playful, the shade of the hologram painting his mischief-holding yellow eyes blue like his skin. He was bulkier than the other two, however, the way he spread his palms on the edge of the table and put his weight on them and leaning over made him look smaller than he was. "How well do you think she screwed Vader to swoop the rank from him like hair out the butter? The man must have been to the neighboring galaxy and back."

The female inquisitor's frustration was dripping into the Force. "He is thoroughly blinded. I can't believe it. The Emperor must know about this."

The Miralian, however, was annoyed and uncomfortable in his own skin, imagining a thousand eyeballs materializing above their heads directing their unblinking gazes at them. It was a touchy subject. They were treading on thin ice by talking about it in an open space like this, he knew very well of the infamous temper of Vader when he even felt like his decisions were being questioned. "You metalhead, of course he already knows about everything. Who do you think Darth Vader is?"

The Pantoran tilted his head comically to agree with him, while the sister crossed her arms, taking a more defensive stance. It had fueled her forward, not even close to stopping her. Third Brother had to press on. "You're also forgetting who she is."

Her fingers were twitching slightly. "She charmed you as well."

"Charmed?" His voice got unconsciously higher and he heard Eleventh Brother taking in a long, exhausted breath, this was quickly turning into a heated conversation. "All the girl does is completing the missions she is given. Why are you so agitated?"

Third Sister suddenly opened her arms wide. The respect for Supreme Inquisitor obviously ticked her in the wrong way. "Because she gets undeserved favoritism!"

"I just told you why it's not undeserved. You're really letting your reason fly away like that?"

Eleventh Brother, then, physically came between them at the disdainful non-verbal mention of dark side, eyeing the officers slowing down to take a look at them now fully shouting at each other. "Come on, don't get heated up both of you." A lazy smile spread over his face. "Let's agree to shag Skywalker and get ourselves some well-deserved vacation, huh?"

But it did nothing to calm Third Brother's nerves, he wasn't overly relaxed like the other guy. "Ssshhhhh! Do not address him like that! You're going to get blasted in the head."

"I don't think he's that strong in the Force to pick up whatever comes out of people's mouths. At least not yet anyway," was his response. The Miralian knew he was doing his best to lighten up the mood so this didn't end up as a mistake getting one of them in trouble in the end, but calling Vader by that name anywhere, even in secret, meant a direct death sentence, it wasn't something to be joked about.

"It's Lord Vader to us, be careful."

"Relax, I'm not that dumb." The sudden emotion showing itself towards the end and curtaining over his face shocked the other inquisitors. "It's just. . . I find it hard to get used to. He was someone else before, you know?"

They were all flashing back to the same day, who the most called Great Jedi Purge. The silent Third Sister had been the one to speak first, after a while of solemn quietude. "New meditation techniques not working for you?"

"Not in the slightest. If he found out I am behind on this, Vader would chop off my left hand as well. . ."

"That is meant to teach you loss and pain, it's not a punishment," Third Brother intercepted, ignoring the slight humor his fellow inquisitor was using to mask his weakness. He was a guy that followed orders, and it was very pristine to the eye. Dark Side hadn't been able to purge that out of him.

"I think we've experienced enough loss and pain, don't you think?" It was a throaty murmur that came from Eleventh Brother. "The absence of a limb means nothing."

When a surge in the Force came the Miralian's way, it was too late for him to stop Third Sister from continuing to ramble on. "Speaking of which, did our Supreme get any of her limbs cut away?"

"Oh for the love of —— drop it."

"No, listen. This is not fair."

"It's about individual progress, you can't put her and yourself in the same equation, it doesn't work like that," he whispered, getting hurried and irked with each word mainly out of fear. The holomap was already forgotten. They looked suspicious, huddled up together like that. "We were Jedi, it's hard for us to leave the old ways behind. She only has been exposed to the dark side. It's natural that her advancement is different."

It was logic. Though it penetrated her ears, the meaning never reached her completely. "The way she fights —— I can't wrap my head around it."

Her eyes moved left and right, erratic as she remembered, countless battles coming one after the other, lining up in her head. Each one of them focusing on one pair, always together, never going the opposite way in a clash. Moving in complete harmony and sync, reminiscing one superior mind controlling two separate bodies. "She completely parallels Vader, it's like they are parts of the same machine and I think I'm going crazy sometimes when I think about it."

One hand was holding onto her elbow tightly, the other hand moved up and down, vertical to the ground, to emphasize her words. "There's no way she could have picked up on the technique that fast without getting special treatment is what I'm getting at. It's the main thing that infuriates me."

"Is it?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"It is because she became more masterful in a matter of months isn't it?" First Brother said, not holding back in the slightest, calling her out on it. The way her chin moved in a circle with a completely closed mouth gave her away. "Her achieving that level of skill and leaving the rest of us behind pisses you off because you're envious of that power. It's the greed talking, not you."

"But you can't say that I'm wrong," she shook her head, raising her eyebrow with a smile like she was proud of a secret. "The Al'Verde, Unifier of Mandalore or whatever the kriff her other titles are, I don't care. She can't be capable of this much."

In the corner of his eye, First Brother saw the burly Pantoran getting very shifty on his feet, a sign of anxiety from him.

Then he noticed why, as the sign hit him too, a chip in the force, like a faraway warning.

Third Sister was getting too vexed to notice it as she didn't stop talking for one second, and Third Brother was lost in the moment once again. "She's meant to be a pawn to the empire, a hostage, because all those helmetheads only seem to get smart when it's about war. The idiot had it coming for getting involved with the Rebellion. Everybody knows this, yet we still have to pretend."

She was talking about how Mandalore was forced to make a treaty with the Galactic Empire. This event, even though it led to her eventual arrest and recruitment into the military, had made way to Imperial Initiative in which the newly started empire went on a treaty spree to collect all the Separatist, Neutral and rogue planets without violence. This was of course a plot to force the planets into peace, but it was still effective.

"Now, compare that to me, do you get the picture? I deserve to be in a superior higher-up position, don't you think?" Third Sister almost commanded, the corners of her eyes crinkled, eventually turning into a full-on glare. "Even if we leave this all aside, she doesn't even know how to use the Force that much and here she is, the great Supreme of Inquisitorius. This is not fair."

"It doesn't matter. Do you want me to flash the headline on HoloNet or something?" Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair. "The number of successes you bring to the empire decides your worth. Last time I checked, Mandos were on a different tier considering the warmongering past."

"So? That doesn't prove that she isn't privileged."

"Maybe because being a political figure requires the empire to make her look good." Once again, Eleventh Brother tried to sweeten both of the worked up Inquisitors. He thrust his fists into the air in a caricaturish, slow victorious manner.

Third Brother wanted this conversation to be over, the unrest pooling in his stomach was too alarming to be ignored. "It's because she's better at our job than you are. Face it. There is nothing else to it."

Third Sister's arms, untangled from their lock earlier, now dangled down her sides. She gave a bitter laugh. "It's not exactly encouraging motivation-wise when you feel like you're disposable."

Eleventh Brother snorted, his usual mocking still there, but now molded with irony. "I thought you already knew we are expendable to the empire."

But the person who responded wasn't either one of the three. "You are."

They didn't even feel her coming, gliding up to them from the shadows. And suddenly, the famous darksaber was peeking out from just beside Third Sister's neck, the inquisitor's face contorted in raw shock before she dropped to the ground, trembling and clutching the raw burn. It was the loud sound of her hitting metal that made the other two scramble back in panic, their hands hanging afloat.

"Stars!" was the only thing coming out of the Miralian before he had literally jumped out of his skin, the Force hadn't even poked one of them, not a last-second warning at all too. Third Sister was about to be executed just like that.

Inside of his skull was white. Void of any thoughts. Nothing came to mind. Third Sister literally laid violently trembling at their feet.

Supreme Inquisitor's force signature slammed on their faces much later, like the heel of a foot descending on a bug, the faint crunching sound got to him in his imagination and he looked at Third Sister once again, sprawled out on the floor. He felt an entire wall of frosty fury pressing down on his body, and not even a smudge of remorse was there for almost taking a life.

Eleventh Brother was just as horrified, his cowering stature resembling a frightened child's, which was ironic because the woman in front of them, standing silent and mute while waves of danger rolled intensely out of her through the Force, was much smaller compared to his species.

The Pantoran and he held eye contact for a fleeting second. The former's face held a fear of death while Third Brother was still thinking about the current overwhelming presence being entirely missed by all three of them, how long had she been listening to them for?

Her T-shaped eye lenses, contrasting with the black of the mask she had on was hiding her expression; but the almost glowing red, accompanied by the white glow darksaber flared, was more terrifying than any emotion her face could contort into. "Get up."

Third sister stammered, none of her previous vigor present. "What?"

"Get up. I see you have complaints, I want you to walk me through them."

First Brother had to do something. "Supreme Inquisitor, please overlook her childishness just this once - "

"I am not talking to you." The blood red lens of her helmet stayed focused on her target. "Sister. Take out your lightsaber and feel free to test my skills to your liking. But know this. If you do, I will treat you like as you'd like me to, and we will go at it until the end. You know our ways."

Stuck right where she was lying on the floor, her eyes momentarily met First Brother's, who mouthed, "Don't," at her behind clenched teeth without any sound.

She ended up saying, "Forgive me." The haunted look in her eyes was avoiding directly coming to contact with the Mandalorian woman. Upon the crackling silence that followed, Third Sister tried again, higher-pitched and a slight panting in her breath. "Please forgive my impudence."

"Anyone else that wants to question my credibility further?" was what Supreme Inquisitor asked, not a declaration of Third Sister's death sentence, thankfully. When she was met with silence, she turned off the darksaber, yet didn't put it away. "Anyone else that wants to stay and gossip instead of doing their jobs?"

Silence.

"Anyone else that volunteers to do as they were ordered and get rid of the holo-faker?"

Third Brother and Eleventh Brother stood straight. "We will get to it," the Miralian said shakily.

"You better."

A bottomless pit of abiding nothingness was expected to be cold, but sometimes you would think it could be a bit warmer because of the stars it was pregnant to burned with all their might.

Myriads of stars and suns, withering away and blossoming at the same second were furious in their hearts beat to the rhythm held the balance together, yet the universe remained colder than beskar still.

It was proof no star could ever be enough to warm up their home, not even the supremest of them all. And perhaps in their sorrow, they all ended up as black holes, swallowing up anything in their way to fill the hole where their burning souls once stood brightly as the hearth for the planets under their wings.

But you could never be cold. Not when even the spaceships were perpetually freezing. Your fire sang too vigorous for that. There was a furnace akin to a star at its prime nuzzled inside your ribs constantly keeping your palms unusually warm, especially when you were sent to planets with chilling climates for a mission. Your peculiarly high temperature made so you uncomfortable sometimes that you wore so little while physically training. It was unnerving for those under you that you could withstand icy environments so easily. Some even thought you were half-robot as Lord Vader and couldn't even feel physical contact anymore.

No, you experienced pain on a different reality than others did. You were sure Vader did as well, it was your fuel to the Dark Side. So much so that it was addicting at times to inflict it to other people and yourselves. You fed on it as if you were one of the Anzati preying on the life source of others to survive. It was necessary. It was vital. One could never get used to pain, but to accept it as a fundamental part of the path to the dark side had done the trick for you.

That's why you could understand why Lord Vader bit back complaints about his steel arms and legs never seeming to fit and holding him back from his full potential. They hurt him immensely, although his face in plain sight didn't even wince you could feel it; his yellow eyes didn't sour over with pain yet nevertheless, you felt it in your own body - even when he kept it from pouring into The Force itself, you felt it as if you were being hurt.

But while you didn't know what to do with it, Vader used that agony, he internalized it and brought forth an entirely different kind of might that terrified down to the bone whoever dared to cross him.

Vader always knew what to do.

But you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the things you had heard the last day. Rebellion was ringing in her ears wherever she went and whatever she did. Mand'alor.

Among other insults hurled at her, nothing had bothered her as much as nobody disagreeing with the late Third Sister. All the briefings, all the reports, all the patrols during this past couple of days were all spent on thinking about what in the hell they were talking about. You were none of the things Third Sister had claimed her to be.

You were the last remaining kin of Pre Vizsla he had adopted into the clan, wasting away in your atelier with your stupid idea of reconciling with the current government of Mandalore, daydreaming about it while fixing weapons and armor. The girl who had never been able to become a full-fledged Mandalorian smelled of oil, dust, metal, shadows, and underground, she was too weak to even talk back to her blood. She wanted to run and fly but was chained to a dustball of a rotting planet moon. She was nothing before Lord Vader had found her.

However, you couldn't forget about it. It was constantly in your head, like a damned bug crawling through the curves of your brain and scratching away at the flesh walls of the organ, it kept slamming its way right in front of your skull, pounding in her temples as a persistent headache.

Why did they call me that? Why did they say that?

Was it sarcasm? No, it couldn't have been.

It was scary how obsessed you had become with a tiny minute detail when it meant nothing at all. You had sat down and thought about what you were expecting but there wasn't anything you could grasp at. You just couldn't get it out of your mind and that was it.

So you trained. For hours and hours a day, you practiced and meditated. There was nothing else to do. You were ordered to lay low and wait at Naboo's door, no one could go anywhere, so you did the best with what you had.

There was only so much you could do in the limited area of the training ground they were spared in the main spaceship. The floating metal monsters were made for combative military purposes and not military drill ships used for education and field practice after all. If they were informed of a blockade of this kind beforehand, the preparations would be more suitable for their situation.

Therefore you ended up requiring a partner to work with, granted that training equipment was not present.

A partner, being the partner, who had always been the only opponent you had sparred against, Darth Vader of course.

Maybe you couldn't tell him what had you fearfully hypnotized for so long, but you could use him as an anchor to clear your thoughts and achieve lucidity that way. Vader was an in-and-out kind of one-man army with no distractions whatsoever and that had inspired you in your own way of handling work. Not only did straightforwardness find a new meaning in him, but you felt closer to clarity by his side as well, it gave you a refined sense of strength.

When you came together blade-to-blade instead of back-to-back, you and Vader were identical if not paralleled, one the hands and the other the legs of the same body, you were like the complementary halves of a single warrior. Vader, due to his overly bulky cybernetic limbs, moved with the power of roaring ocean waterfalls, he was unstoppable; meanwhile, you were the shadow and the wind, the sacrificed speed and mobility completing him in a different body - you appeared out of nowhere, struck, and disappeared.

Despite having the chance to spar with Vader himself after a long time spent with deeds for the empire, you didn't manage to clean her mind off the noises repeating over and over again right in the middle of your nervous system. It was reflecting on your motor and reflective abilities, you couldn't keep up with him today.

"You came here to clear your head but your mind is still distracting you," was Vader's eventual response after wiping the lusterless steel floor with your backside for the nth time.

You always got up whenever you fell, having a feline's agility and swiftness akin to lightspeed but he was not having any of it this time, it was obvious from the dismissive frown distorting his youthful face. The red glow of his lightsaber was gone in an instant.

Calling your own lightsaber back, you didn't have any difficulty in extending the Force as a limb to retrieve it whenever it had flown off to. As soon as the hilt caressed the skin of your palm, your fingers closed down on it as if you wanted the crush the useless thoughts plaguing you.

Darksaber's idiosyncratic sound was higher pitched than any other used by the Jedi and the Sith, but it had the peculiar ability to respond to its wielder's emotional state. You had noticed the erratic electrical effect pulsating like a heightened heartbeat, but you didn't want to stop due to accumulated frustration. If you were indeed a machine, there would be smoke surrounding your burning limbs from clashing with the cold atmosphere. "I can keep going."

There was no way Vader was not aware of the emotional storm raging inside of you, he even sank his hook into the tiniest of specks you went out of your way to hide, yet he was calmly observing at where he stood. "I'm not enjoying myself anymore, this is pointless. So how about you tell me what's been bothering you instead?"

Of course he goes for that, you sighed. Always straight to the point. You couldn't confront the root of her problem at hand, you didn't even know what was bothering you this much. It was obviously speculation on their part of something. The whole Inquisitorius may have been informed that way to help you assert your superiority, but you still couldn't bring yourself to at least investigate it.

You had forgotten this part of you existed at all. It had been buried deep down the seven circles of your soul where even the Force itself couldn't shed light upon it. Your weaknesses: hesitation, coyness, pudency, dastardness - your old needy self who was always pushed into the shadows. Remnants. They deserved to rot in darkness; crumble away until they were nothing but ash and dust under your feet. The old you of Clan Vizsla, who would tremble and scream and grieve in terror if she ever knew the person she would become was the infamous tyrannical Supreme Inquisitor, needed to die.

A warm campfire singing with the dancing fireflies wouldn't stand a chance against a devourer wildfire raging against the night; it just didn't work that way. You needed to kill it.

Your head twitched up when the darksaber turned off by itself. You felt Lord Vader's extended power return back to his shadow after lingering for a little while, thinning the oxygen around her by its mere presence. "You know I'm not one to waste my time."

"Too much waiting," you blurted out when it became evident if you were to stay silent, he would try to pry into your mind, he kept staring at you without moving a muscle - like he was one of the unsettling ginormous milky alabaster statues standing tall in front of the Imperial Senate Building.

Vader rarely ever did disturb the privacy of your inner world, he didn't need to, he just knew you like the inside of his palm, and you never hid anything from him either, you trusted him more than you trusted yourself.

Your obstinacy tended to keep things away from him whenever failure stamped itself right on your forehead - because you were ashamed.

But this was different. You could tell Vader had noticed as well.

You were simply very tired, the black spandex of your training wear was sticking to your skin because of the sweat and the braid you always kept long to wrap around into a circle at the back of your head so it could fit inside your helmet was a messy bird's nest. You couldn't find the strength in yourself to weave an intricate web of lies to keep Vader away from your worries, so you opted to only reveal some of the truth as you took a few steps back to wipe your forehead and the back of your neck with the towels neatly folded and laid right beside a variety of weapons ranging from target blasters to melee weapons such as techblasters.

Later on, as two black silky cloaked-figures stormed through the deck like flowing gravity-driven drops of ink to get to Vader's quarters, tearing seas of white armor and black uniforms apart as they glided along in sync, you finally voiced some of your worries but not the entire truth. Your mask caused your voice to sound artificial and monotonous enough to hide the intent behind. "Why is Naboo special? There were other planets to try the boundaries just like this before. What are we doing here?"

The man's booming steps didn't falter, he kept on power walking as he usually did. The only giveaway to his surprise was his golden gaze immediately getting drawn to your frame. "That's unusually curious of you."

"I suppose it is."

Corridors of the metal maze they were in curled in different directions as you talked, occasionally wrought with artificial white, red and blue lights blinked and streamed past you in streaks. It was all in the background, as you were only awaiting Vader's response. "The Emperor has not said anything yet. We are to stand our ground."

He was tight-lipped when it came to The Emperor. Tenuous shadows obscuring his reflection in The Force, meticulous and ten times more intimidating.

Beings with no force-sensitivity perceived it as Vader holding their necks tight in a noose, or perhaps an unsteady sword floating right above their heads. He was at his most merciless when he was escorted by The Emperor's words. It was hard for even you to speak your mind freely, not because of the fear, but because deep in your soul, you sensed a fresh, gaping wound, and it had The Emperor's handprint next to it.

Not lingering on it, you uttered your evergrowing uneasiness snowballed with the word Rebellion about the task given to them. "Lord Vader, this looks like a false cover-up for an intended invasion to me. Why else would we be here?" Your job didn't end with supervising the Inquisitorius as Darth Vader's right hand, you also participated in keeping the order in the empire. Those required having to always keep moving and never stopping in one place for too long. Even Vader couldn't stay at his castle in Mustafar to rest for more than days between the duties. The wait for something from Naboo had been unnervingly delayed. It had rightfully taken its toll on your agitated state of mind, and you thought maybe relieving herself from at least this distress might give her more control.

"No need to think about those things. We will do as we are ordered. The battlefield is our only concern." An automatic response, usually given to his inferiors. What followed after was not. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

You started speaking only when you arrived at Vader's dull grey quarters separate from the superior officers at the bridge tower, it was similar to an antechamber in emptiness and size, the only difference was the massive cell-like cut windows circling in a flat arch showing the blue-green and occasionally violet planet of Naboo. "Queen Amidala should pose no threat to him, but for some reason he doesn’t trust her now that she is not present on the Imperial Senate and is out of his reach, there’s something going on here," you pondered, taking your mask off and staring at it for a while. "It goes against the relatively peaceful route he has trekked on until now, but I don't believe we are here for another treaty."

"I was not aware of your interest in politics. This was what had you so scatterbrained you couldn't even focus on combat." Vader slowly approached the glass window closes to him and stood still, his eyes on the planet. He had his hands folded behind his back. His side profile was illuminated by the faint translucent lights of the space from where you were. "Why the sudden curiosity, have you received intel?"

"It's not like that. I‘ve just had more time than necessary to think."

"And the thing you chose to think about was the Emperor not trusting Queen Amidala?"

"I’m thinking about how a possible invasion would go. The Emperor looked for the perfect opening to do so, and now that he has it, he won't let go. It feels like the era of treaties is about to be over." After placing your mask on the table where Vader usually kept the tools he used to modify his limbs, a feeling of nakedness washed over you as you looked at the view it created, it was not the Supreme Inquisitor talking at the moment, but simply you. "But I do have a bad feeling about everything in general, I can't get it out of my mind."

"Is that what The Force tells you?"

Gloved fingers gliding on the smooth arch of the top of the inquisitor mask, you kept your gaze on the T-shaped lens. Your lashes were heavy on your eyes, the words were weighing down on your entire face so they couldn't escape you it seemed. As ironic as it was that you were covering your real troubles with half-truths, you had never been this honest about your opinions before, only ever obeying whatever Vader had asked you of. "I'm not sure. I can't distinguish my instincts from the will of The Force yet. I don't think I ever will. Precognition is beyond me, I am but a Mandalorian, physical use is the only thing I really am good at. Still, there are times in which even I can feel it physically in my head. I know we are only soldiers, I know not to concern myself but The Force is. . . weird these days. That's why I'm not dismissing these thoughts."

"Perhaps what you used to call instincts is The Force talking to you. You are still fighting the Dark Side, that's why it's constipating you like this. Let the power guide you. Don't be afraid of too much."

"I have dedicated myself to your ways for a reason, I know what I have to do. I'm just a slow learner, but I do learn. Even if I can't fulfill your expectations, I won't ever disappoint you, Lord Vader."

Tingles traveled down your spine in warm waves, Vader's stare was definitely on you. "I will look into this as well, you keep focusing on the present." Then, a soft sigh dissolved in the air, so unnoticeably gentle that it had your eyebrows pulled together in surprise. "Anything else you wish to inform me about? I still feel heavy conflict clouding your mind."

"I don't wish to bother you with insigni—"

"When I ask questions I expect them to be answered."

He had seen it. The certain worm clogging your brain. Something was pushing you to squish it back in the darkness so he would forget about it. Not knowing what it was made you try to cover it up, words you‘d kept to yourself all this time poured out like hot-flowing blood out of a raw wound. "The thing is, why would Queen Amidala make a predictable and unnecessary move such as this when she is aware of the emperor's intentions in the first place? It doesn’t make sense."

"What do you know about his intentions?" It came sharp and quick. When you let go of the mask grounding you and turned to him, Vader's stiffness and slight tenseness caught you off guard; just as he had never heard a single peep of doubt from you, you had never seen Vader defensively alarmed as well. "You're basing this all on a single assumption. According to that then, how would Queen Amidala be aware of this so-called everything?"

"I told you it was insignificant."

"No. Explain it."

Hurried steps brought you right at Vader's side, aestuous eyes of his followed your almost apologetic state. The stars were witnessing a rare occurrence that day, the ice-breathing iron dragon was reduced into a young man, simply because he allowed anxiety seep out the cracks of his persona of The Dark Lord Darth Vader. Yet, they were merely only talking. You were pulled to him like a piece of metal caught into a magnetic field, wanting to clear his face from shadows. What had him this tense was a mystery that piqued your worry as much as it did your curiosity.

"I meant absolute control when I said intentions, it wasn't something mysterious at all." You said, fighting the instinct to comb his wavy locks away from his face when you noticed his arms twitch forward towards you in a split second, stilling quickly right after that. "Queen Amidala, well at least Naboo has been cooperative and obedient so far, it is the Emperor’s home planet. It's illogical for them to make a move, without even sending a report of protest first about the Stormtrooper bases." Your voice was calculative and calm so that Vader would remain composed as well. "To be honest, every bone in my body is screaming trap at me. But I don't know what they would gain from laying a trap for us — or the empire."

A blank look.

Then a weak smile so twisted and bitter that the hairs on the back of your neck and the baby hairs framing the shape of your face stood up.

"I do," Vader said, triumphantly. Catharsis was etched into his tremulous voice, his pupils were dilated. "Have spy droids decode their hologram satellites immediately. I especially want the transcriptions of ghost calls, doesn't matter if it's from the palace or not."

At a loss for words, you couldn't catch up to his thought process but you had your orders, Vader's word came first. "Whatever we're looking for -- what if they chose to transport it manually as a message rather than transmitting it?"

"I hope they did." The smile on his face didn't reach his eyes, his tone was low and dangerous when he answered. "Then we get to use the easy way to restore the peace."

When you retired for the day, the shadows whispered all that you have been reduced to, and all you will ever be is eternal yearning chasing your tail, forever stuck in a circle, doomed to be your own destruction.

They swirled heavy and languid around where you laid folded into yourself, in your most vulnerable state —— closest to the ghost of the girl fron Clan Vizsla, the girl with tender flames that couldn't and wouldn't burn. They pooled in the hollow of your stomach, filled your womb with molten tar, and blotted your veins; until you became nothing but a vague shape in the dark.

The moderately average resting chamber in the giant Star Destroyer closed in on the you, only armored with a thin layer of sweat covering your heated skin. Darkness was a place you were your most comfortable in, but shadows drowning you were the servants of light —— the light that flowered from the warmest, the most cowardly of fires that was afraid to burn people.

"Remember," the shadows murmured. The smell of beskar and ash was sticky on the wall of your nose, thickly dropping down to the lungs. Within the withering clouds of duskiness, two little marbles with the color of abysmal space stared back, the tiniest of shine reflecting like miniature novae. Black eyes like obsidian. "As no star is enough to light up the galaxy. As no star is enough to warm up its home. Remember who you are."

Supreme Inquisitor killed that treacherous girl every single night, but shadows were immortal nonetheless, you couldn't possibly reign victorious over them. The girl of Clan Vizsla, aware of that mostly overlooked knowledge, had always hidden her essence in the shadows; and now even her biggest nemesis was unable to snuff out the weak embers left of her. The ashes somehow managed to rekindle their spark.

The girl just refused to die and turned herself into invisible heavy shackles on your ankles.

Shadows caught up to you in oddest circumstances these days. Contrary to Imperial Officers and most of the Inquisitorius like the fallen Grand Inquisitor, respect out of obligation and orders did not sit well with you, you enjoyed proving yourself someone to be dreaded over and over again just to smell the satisfying presence of horror, yet sometimes you (momentarily) felt unaccomplished when people couldn't look you in the eye as they spoke.

The Mandalorian in you wanted to earn respect instead of forcing it out of somebody —— annoying, really, it was like an itch right in the middle of your back where you couldn't reach to scratch, and it never went away either. No matter what you did, you couldn't get rid of the leaden disappointment and dejection shooting up your spine at the sight of forehead-on-the-floor submission even if it lasted shorter than a blink.

The moment of humanity made you sick. You enjoyed being feared and bowed to, that meant you were stronger than them, that you were better, yet the tiny itch made it seem like you were some kind of noble character deep down when your aim, in the end, was establishing strength and demanding respect in exchange —— not honorably gaining it through charity work.

That's why you were feeling grumpy at yourself as you left First Brother behind in hurried steps after the report given to you in trembling fingers hid behind his waist in a grip, and a voice strained to control a slight shakiness. The Miralian was covered with a thin layer of sweat across his pink skin, the purple diamonds etched onto his nose area almost appeared a dark ultramarine as he stood with an imaginary walking stick shoved down his throat, he didn't move from his position until Supreme Inquisitor had completely disappeared from his sight.

He was your favorite Inquisitor to work with, mainly because he knew respect. You knew it was a Jedi habit, but you were in no place to complain about it, only focused on getting results and finally, your patience was rewarded —— not even the annoyance at your prolonged unstable emotions could get in the way of your enthusiasm. They were one step closer to ending this blockade and you were itching to return to your routine of hunting Jedi and getting rid of this mess of a state of mind. Things would soon return to the way they were. They had to.

With that in mind, you all but rushed to deliver the news to Vader, practically running to the safety of an end goal having formed in your mind. He was receiving some kind of report in the bridge part of the Star Destroyer, but immediately dismissed the two officers when he saw you approaching him with hurried steps. The T-shaped visor of her matte black helmet was reflecting light like flashes due to your speed.

Vader had the tendency to have conversations with you alone, even when you absolutely had to be in public he would maneuver to the most isolated place where they could speak privately, and his utter discontent at people coming at their way would immediately have effect in making them go the opposite way. If he was just done with having to deal with Imperial Officers and saw you as an escape, you did not know.

"It's done, Lord Vader," You reported with a datapad in your right gloved hand, the other was clutching the hilt of darksaber tucked away in your belt as you retreated to the giant windows looking directly at Naboo. Crowds would part at the sight of you together, as if leaving you to your solitude was a rule, so nobody was in the perimeter to hear the conversation. "Spy droids are on the job right now. The decryptor team is simultaneously working with incoming data. The droids can only do so much, so for the sake of both speed and efficiency, the only solution I had was this."

You handed him the datapad, his yellow eyes were dull as he scanned the incoming information. "Nothing looks particularly off as of now."

"I told them to look out for suspicious behavior as well. Could be a part of their cipher system."

"I would rather have direct contact with the senator, per protocol." Vader's hawk-like gaze turned almost condescendingly to the mostly purple planet as if he could spot the object of their conversation right away. The corners of his lips twitched upwards for a millisecond. "Compared to the queen, he is surprisingly easier to crack."

He peculiarly allowed himself to be human around her, occasional boyish grins and smirks found their way to his face often when you were near. It wasn't a first-time realization but very much a reassurance every time it occured. The thought, this time also as well, managed to ease your overheated mind and you allowed herself to relax a bit, removed your hand from darksaber, and clutched them on the back of your waist. "Which is why Queen Amidala insists on being the mediator."

A scoff came from him. "She knows even the person they chose has certain weaknesses."

A wave of bitter taste washed over your mouth. "We do have to wait for Emperor Palpatine's orders about entering their planetary space. . . to exploit those weaknesses."

"I don't need to be right in front of him to do that."

He was capable of doing unspeakable things to people deeming they were safe from him just because they were seperated by monitors and screens, there was nothing surprising about his ominous declaration. Yet, something akin to an irritating feeling peeling away from your skin and an itching weight being lifted off of your gut made you blink strongly. You had to swallow because inside of your mouth felt like you had just stuffed a handful of sand down your throat. Of course. This was it. This was why Inquisitorius had to be here. How could you have been so oblivious?

"How inconvenient," you said, fully turning to him sharply. An excitement that would put the one you felt when you got the report from First Brother to shame was pulsating in your temples and ears. "It would have been better to have the excuse to see him directly."

Vader's eyebrows twitched downwards slightly. He must've had noted the change in your demeanor. "Why?"

"Because I just figured out why we're here." Your hands jerked to point at Naboo. It was clear as day to you now. You were so buried in your own mind to see what was right in front of you! "To give The Emperor an excuse for the order. This is our mission."

Vader, contemplating your discovery, hummed before speaking. He didn't look baffled at all. "You're saying this is an investigation."

"Disguised as an embargo." You nodded. Even the voice warping planted in your helmet could hide your emotions. You were more than happy to push all of your turmoil this far on this reason alone. "I can't believe I figured it out so late.“

"You weren't supposed to figure anything out." Vader, opposed to you, was very discontent with your state and you had failed to notice it from how his eyes had narrowed before he spoke. "Our input in political matters is not needed. It isn't our place."

In this light, he almost looked like he was leering down at you and that made your heart jump to your throat. Maybe you shouldn't have expressed your mind so openly like this. You weren’t one to mix personal opinions with orders in the first place. This... The chaos you were in as of late had made you slip up. You had had done your best to remain as a blank slate while putting only your lord's agenda and wishes before anything, and it truly was the only thing you cared about — that you should have cared about.

You had to pull yourself together.

"I apologize," you said, now more focused and professional to show you didn't mean any disobedience by your words. "Of course I will follow only orders, Lord Vader. I haven't forgotten my place."

That earned you an unexpected tut. "That's not——" He shut his mouth with an audible click coming from how hard his teeth had snapped together. Your eyebrows, not visible from your helmet, shot upwards at Vader's incomplete sentence. The Dark Lord of the Sith would have never held his tongue back in any occasion and he never entertained idle chit-chat, yet. . . He had briefly lost control there. He did manage to school his tone back into place, but you were already too shocked. "Just remember we will only do what is necessary. The Emperor always has a higher purpose we're not meant to know."

You had forgotten you were surrounded by the crew of the bridge, the mention of The Emperor brought back some clarity to you, as the rehearsed words of self-evaluation slipped past your lips. You had autopiloted into a submissive soldier stance. "I see now that lack of clearance has got the best of me. I meddled in matters simply not my business at all."

You didn't dare to look up at him, too immersed in trying not to spark his anger. Direct defiance was never your intention and deep down, you were already ruthlessly scolding yourself for it. You should have never opened your mouth. That's right. You were never supposed to open your mouth ever. You would only be good to go when you listened and followed orders. Opinions and thoughts were not welcome. Not that you had problems with them in the first place, but you did have to teach yourself again.

You hadn't noticed Vader's silence and his golden gaze scanning you up and down as if you were a book to read, it only became apparent to you when he started speaking again, his voice was heavy and gravelly. "This kind of thing will put a target sign on your head. You must stay out of The Emperor's sight, I will handle everything. All you have to do is follow orders."

This was the perfect chance to both change the subject and deliver the other updates you got from earlier, and you took it. He would be displeased because of the delay, but you couldn't skip on your duty either, it was with heavy heart that you gave him the news. "Speaking of orders, First Brother reported to me before our meeting. The holo-faker will be dealt with shortly. They are working on locating her."

"You mean to say she’s not dead yet?" As expected, sourness had immediately settled on his face.

"Unfortunately."

"Shortly doesn't cut it. You and I both know these adverbs only exist to buy more time." An exasperated huff, like burning steam on your skin, cut his sentence. His artificial hand's fingers had started flexing and you knew from this that his first instinct in handling this was violence - and rightfully so. If it was up to you without any interventions, the holo-faker would have been dead for the seventh time now. "Who is this holo-faker, why is it taking so long? We have more pressing matters at hand."

Your chest swelled up with the acidic breath she took in for that answer. "Her name is Bo-Katan Kryze——"

"What?" His blaster shot of an interruption was almost high-pitched and even further, your heart rate picked up because of how Vader's normally controlled Force presence had crackled like a sudden whip lash against the air. "Repeat that name."

The way he said that was stone cold and had sunk on your chest as dead weight.

"Bo-Katan Kryze." It was too hard to keep your voice in a flat tone, so it appeared very tense in return. He can misunderstand, you thought to yourself, and fumbling words pushed through your filter without warning. A loss of control on your part, no matter the form it took. "A Mandalorian like me, I know. However, my judgment is not affected. I will have her eliminated."

"We will speak no more of this here. Come."

Everything happened in a flash. His unwarranted, lightning anger blended in with their literal teleportation to the official meeting chambers reserved for the inquisitor team aboard the ship. It was like you had been wounded, but the adrenaline and shock holding your body together was holding the pain back.

You had killed fellow Mandalorian kin before. You did it every time one cane to take darksaber away from you for honor. Vader knew you didn't hold any affection or lingering attachment to your roots. Your only relief would be accepting you were uninformed, or simply not smart enough to understand what had him angered like a dragon preparing to wreak havoc over his gold hoard having been barely disturbed by an outsider.

After the sliding metal door closed behind them and trapped you in a dimly steel, ever-shrinking room due to his sizzling Force presence, with only a giant holotable to display maps in the middle, his heaving back slowly regained back a stable breathing rhythm, and he turned to you much more composed, the powerwalk they had here probably having taken some of his bottled up agitation. "Did you have an audience with her?" he said, the sentence more of a domineering demand than a question. There was a distant fire in his eyes.

You did your best to remain calm to not provoke him in any way, and obeyed. "Yes, it was required."

"Did you speak with her directly?"

"Yes, since I had the recordings of the Jedi had to deliver them personally." One of your canines caught the inside corner of your mouth. "Is something wrong——"

He ignored your remark. "Has she said anything to you?"

Have I failed? How have I failed? Why am I being interrogated right now? "Apart from business, no."

"That can’t be it. Are you lying to me?"

That sentence was straight up a punch to your ribcage, you were breathless as you answered that question. "No."

But that did not satisfy him. He was a predator pacing left and right upon hearing it. The lampdisks were full on and the meeting room eerily bright, but his darkening presence was casting a shadow over everything. "Out of all the beings in the galaxy, how did she end up being——" He was mumbling to himself in a mildly manic state, and when he suddenly shouted, the already panicking you almost jumped out of your skin. "Damn it!"

Vader's entire self-control was gone like the wind, a catastrophic hurricane in the Force is what he was. Rumbling and roaring with no restraint, no restraint. It made your hands tremble uncontrollably and sucked the strength from your core entirely. And all it took for the leash to snap was not The Emperor, not the missions, not the imperial officers and not the incompetent inquisitors, but a single name of an insignificant Mandalorian holo-faker.

You had to fix this somehow. You had to do something. You didn't understand your mistake but you had to put enough effort to get back on your feet. "Lord Vader, I don't follow——"

"Don't call me that!" You had never heard him yell before. Always the silent and obscure, actions-over-words commander that he was, Lord Vader did never need to raise his voice to get what he wanted, he simply didn't bother with that. Yet that was a broken shout at the top of his lungs; a shattered clap of thunder, yet it was a piercing shriek of a wounded animal enough to make your ears go numb for few seconds. Bleeding. A cascade of emotions were bleeding out of him.

Silence fell between you like the hammer of a giant.

Your insides churned and twisted and crushed until all you could feel was just a mash of mixed goop flesh filling you like cotton and only a void in the middle of your skull, as if you had jumped out of hyperdrive with a damaged deceleration equalizer.

A shiver shook your shoulders.

There was a man in front of you, not Lord Vader, and certainly not a Lord of the Sith. An upset, disturbed and disordered hot mess of a young man, with eyes the color of cold dark blue before the sun appears in the horizon, swimming in the agony of an entire sunken star, was despairing over his subordinate addressing him as the superior he was.

What did he want from you exactly? How did you end up in a conversation webbed with lines that should never be crossed?

"Call all the inquisitors involved in the operation and leave us."

"As you wish." You kept your voice carefully blank and monotone, but the emotions were as scattered as a star cluster. Despite that, as Supreme Inquisitor, your instincts knew the need for professionalism to be restored back, but it was actually cowardice that made you lean entirely on respect to gain much needed stable ground. "Do you want me to send out a scouting team to find out if she has reached Mandalore? They could look for a way to cheat the treaty."

"No. You're off the holo-faker case."

It was a small command, a simple order, a rightful decision really, but that still felt like stun blasts exploding inside your brain that left it ringing and the room spinning around you. "Why? I can fix everything, I can go personally——"

"No." To your own ears, to your heart, the voice that came from his lips didn't sound like his own. It was deeper, darker, clipped and oiled, resonating from the depths of the Dark Side he tapped into whenever he was facing enemies and allies alike. It didn't sound like him at all, he didn't direct that tone —— that stance to you ever, and it smoked with fury. "You'll remain here with me."

You stood welded to the floor, motionless. You weren’t even truly aware of speaking. It was as if someone else were using your mouth. "I have met her face to face, I'll get it done faster, let me go to Mandalore——"

"I said no! That's an order!"

A hiccupping gasp rose out of you that the mask didn’t pick up.

And, now, finally, you recognized the voice that had came out of you in utter desperation.

It belonged to the shadows. It belonged to gentle melodies of the benevolent hearth. It belonged to the girl who was afraid of being cast away.

You could only stand there, sick at heart, stunned with helplessness, the fatigue in your guts turning heavier and heavier.

". . . Understood."

Lord Vader passed his flesh hand over his eyes and drew a long, heavy breath. In a much lower, calmer, quieter tone, he said, "You won't get involved with her. Promise me." He looked thoroughly miserable, but you felt too numb, so numb that you were looking at the world behind iced glass. It stung even to stand here.

"I have received your orders.” Your lips, conditioned only to speak of duty, fulfilled their responsibility. "I'm calling the inquisitors immediately."

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #suitless vader x reader #suitless vader #story: death before dishonor #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #shai's writings

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bbluejoseph · 5 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

thank you for tagging me @thatbluelight !! i'm not always an ask games kind of person, but This. this is perfect and i had a lot of fun with it :)

how many works do you have on ao3?

98! getting veeeery close to that big 100 lol

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

486,142 apparently. not quite as many as i thought lol

3. what fandoms do you write for?

twenty one pilots, although i do have an old wtnv crossover in the mix somewhere. i've been thinking about writing for the nbc hannibal fandom, but haven't done it yet

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

bio is #1 by quite a bit <3 followed by odium, which i don't really like as much as i did when i first wrote it. after that is surrounded/hounded, spend some time (forever), and know me. oh god i forgot about that one

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try to, especially if they're longer comments, if people ask questions, if people said they liked the work, etc. i really appreciate the feedback and hearing how much people like something i've made motivates me to write more by a million lmao

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably home or colder bones

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

no one's gonna love you, not just bc everything works out and they get together but bc i was really happy with that ending and with the finished work

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

8. do you get hate on any fics?

not that i've ever noticed

without going into detail, i've written mlm and wlw. i generally try to make it abstract/not use explicit language because i have a Normal Healthy Relationship with sex and i can definitely say the word "cock" without wanting to tunnel into the ground like a gopher. as you can probably tell by this fic

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

just the pilots/wtnv crossover one, nothing too crazy (yet)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a few times! i Need to remember to put the translation link in the author's notes and notify people in the tags that there's multiple versions available

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i've had other people beta for me once or twice, and sometimes i've beta'd for other people, but other than that, no. a proper collab sounds fun though!

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

tyler n josh obviously but doesn't have to be romantic!! i just think they're neat :)

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

if i listed every wip i've ever wanted to finish here, i'd be here all day lol. off of ao3, i'd love to finish all is cold betwixt; i have the whole thing mapped out, i just never wrote it. off the top of my head, i've got another shapeshifter one that's a bit less angsty than surrounded and a bit more silly. there's another more personal one that involves growing up in a changing climate, but it's never really gotten anywhere and was mostly just a vent fic. but probably the one i'd most like to finish involves love and fire and a terrible, terrible curse (or is it) with a splash of survivor's guilt.

16. what are your writing strengths?

once i get going on a writing session i Will keep going for a while. like if i get in the Writing Mood and sit down and actually do it, i'll get a shit ton of it finished

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

too many commas probably. also lately i've been starting fics without a general idea of the ending or how to get there, which leads me to abandon them or take long ass breaks. i also have trouble actually sitting down and Writing because i get distracted by other things that are less intense and require less focus but are still fun

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

nothing wrong with that, though i've never done it myself. i do appreciate when authors add a translation of the dialogue into english though so i don't have to whip out google translate

19. first fandom you wrote for?

warrior cats. i was 13, didn't have any social media, and i put several chapters to a spiral-bound notebook. not my best moment

20. favorite fic you've written?

no one's gonna love you and home are tied for #1, with surrounded/hounded and spend some time (forever) tied for #2. all my lady pilots stuff is #3; i don't think it's necessarily good but i enjoyed writing it!

tagging a few of my fellow fic writers here! no pressure to do the tag, and if anyone wants me to tag them, i'm happy to

@i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky @rabler @edyluewho @kiitchensiink

i KNOW there's more but i don't know everyone's tumblr urls since they aren't the same as their names on ao3 lol. if you see this and you want to do this, this is me tagging you <3

#my posts #my ao3 #tagged #long post #blue writes

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morganpdf · 2 years

Note

Really???? You went to the chiropractor and that helped??

I am having a lot of back pain on my left side and it feels like my chest doesnt fully expand when I take a deep breath, perhaps it could be similar thing!!

Anyways, glad you feel better!!

i think tumblr is starting to Not Notify Me when i get asks wtf

anyways!! YEAH its been a few days now and like. there's still a Tiny twinge when i breathe in in a certain position but otherwise breathing doesn't hurt anymore LMAO (i tried to go back today bc its walk ins only but they were Packed so i left) (im defs gonna keep going tho) i used to go 2 the chiropractor for YEARS when i was younger bc it helped with headaches since I have always been the tensest person imaginable. i know they dont help everyone tho and sometimes they can be a little....... cure all-y depending on who u see :-/ which is why i haven't gone in like 10 years since i haven't had any Trusted Recommendations tm

but thank u!!! i appreciate it!! got to work on some stuff but one step at a time

#morgan.pdf #ask.pdf

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vyeoh · 3 years

Text

Shoutout to Tapl for giving the accurate representation of gay yearning, shoutout to Wisp for being a supportive husband, and shoutout to Scott for truly embracing the mindset of "you miss 100% of the shots you don't take"

#vio.txt #thank you to that one person for notifying me in my asks lmao #glad to know you thought 'you know whod like to know about this'#that fucker on tumblr #tapl #tapl harvey #wispexe #scott smajor #smajor #mcyt

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bonky-n-steeb · 2 years

Text

need you now

priest! steve rogers x succubus! reader

summary || fate plays a cruel game by making Father Steve Rogers your soulmate.

warnings || unprotected sex. doggy style. missionary. cream pie. dom! Steve. master kink. masturbation. felching. dirty talk. blow jobs. hand jobs. nipple piercings. size kink. innocence kink. blasphemy. possessive reader. possessive Steve. jealous Steve. lots of feelings lmao. talks of death. MINORS DNI

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

one of my favourite works and the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. period. and that’s saying something lmao. I hope you like this ;)

The moment you saw him, your entire being only said one word, “mine.”

You were just walking around in the streets in the evening trying to look for the next potential victim when you laid your eyes on him.

His golden hair glowed in the mild light of the evening sun and his sharp cheekbones casted shadows. His blue eyes were clearer than the sky and his plump lips were outright sinful.

He was like your dirtiest fantasy come to life. And he was your soulmate.

Every supernatural being had their one destined soulmate. No one ever knew where one might meet them or who it might be.

But according to the lore, once you met them, you just knew it deep in your heart that they were meant for you. That there was no one else for you in this entire universe except for them.

You had hated this concept of soulmate since the moment you had heard of it. You were a succubus and you needed to fuck in order to live.

You couldn’t possibly afford to be stuck to one person your entire life. But all your doubts were gone when you saw the tall blond.

He was so gorgeous that you’d fuck him every moment for the rest of your life.

Your heart started palpitating the moment you set your eyes on him. He was a few steps ahead of you and so you decided to follow him and talk to him once he was alone.

So you followed him and with every step you took, you thanked fate for making this beautiful man your soulmate. That was until you were standing right in front of a church.

He must’ve just come here to pray. Right? Right?

He couldn’t possibly be… No. fate couldn’t be so cruel to you.

With a small gulp of trepidation, you followed him in. When you stepped inside the church, you realised it was fairly empty except you and him.

He stopped walking and turned around to look at you. He gave you a warm smile which made your heart stop for a moment before speaking up in the most melodious voice you’d ever heard, “Good evening.”

“Who are you?” You weren’t much of a believer but you still hoped he didn’t answer that one thing you wished he wasn’t. “I’m Father Steve Rogers.”

He was a priest. A fucking priest.

You couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up in your chest. You had never wanted a soulmate, but still you found yours and he was a priest and you were a succubus. A true match made in heaven… or hell.

Fate loved seeing you suffer it seemed. “Are you kidding me? Tell me this is a fucking joke!” You really didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Please mind your language.”

That was literally the worst thing he could say in this situation. He was a human. Humans didn’t have soulmates. He would never be able to understand the pain you were going through.

“Do you need any help?” He started walking towards you and you raised your hand to stop him from coming further. “Are you okay?” He asked much too kindly.

“No. I’m not okay.” His eyes were so warm as he looked at you, you just wanted to hurl yourself into his arms. “What’s your problem?”

“You. You are my problem.” You replied sarcastically. “Excuse me.” He was honestly shocked by your answer. “Turns out you are my soulmate.” You replied as a matter of fact.

“Umm, what?” Steve was dumbfounded. You were honestly the most enchanting individual he had ever seen. There was just something about you that he couldn’t take his eyes off.

Supernatural beings weren’t really a secret and everyone knew of their existence, especially Steve. He had heard about the soulmate lore and he thought it was sweet, he genuinely did.

But then he hadn’t thought even in his wildest dreams that he would be someone’s soulmate.

“And the cherry on top is, I’m a succubus.” There was no point in keeping that from him. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve taken an oath to abstain. Which in my opinion is pretty boring.”

“You are a sex demon.” Steve just said instead of asking. “I’m sorry. But I can’t be what you’re looking for.” He didn’t know why but he was suddenly feeling very guilty.

“Well, you can be what I want. All you have to do is say yes and fuck me!” Steve seemed to be taken aback by your suggestion. And at that moment, something took root in you.

The need to absolutely ruin Steve Rogers.

He was so innocent. He looked more sad than you were that he couldn’t give you what you needed. His eyes were wide and he looked around as if trying to find some way out. “Are you sure that I… I’m your soulmate?”

“Hundred percent sure.” He got flustered and scratched his nape. “But how does this work?” Steve was inquisitive. You smirked and started seductively walking towards him.

You were a succubus and one of your powers included secreting pheromones. That’s how you trapped your targets. But you weren’t greedy, you hadn’t ever killed anyone, just took enough essence you needed and left them in a pleasurable state.

Deciding it was time, you started emitting pheromones. “It’s really simple you know. All you have to do is mate with me.” You were right in front of him and you sensually traced your his cheekbone.

“And once we mate, we’ll form a bond. I’m not sure about you, but I’ll be able to feel you through it.” Steve’s eye lids were heavy and his expansive chest was moving with every breath.

You trailed your eyes below and you salivated at the sight of the tent in his pants. Looking at that, you could guess that he was very well endowed. And that just made you want him more.

“And if you reject me Steve, I’ll die of a broken heart.” Steve leaned in and your lips were very close. And just as you were about to close that gap, Steve suddenly snapped out of his trance.

He gripped your hands and pushed you enough so that you stumbled two steps back. “What were you doing lady?”

You openly gasped as no one before had sustained your effect. This man had the will of iron. “I was just trying to make you fuck me Steve as I have no plans of dying this soon.”

“Stop lying to me, little demon.” That fact that despite you being the demon, Steve was still very much bigger than you, was making you drip with slick.

“I’m not lying. I will actually die of a broken heart if you don’t accept me.” You were both still standing in the altar of the church. Sighing, Steve just turned around and started walking away.

You simply walked right behind him. “What?” He finally asked when you didn’t leave. He probably didn’t expect you following him around.

“Did you really expect me to leave you? Steve you either accept me as your mate or get ready to this little demon following you around for the rest of your life.”

“Sure.” He replied sarcastically. Steve was pretty sure you were bluffing, there was no way you were just going to follow him. But boy, how wrong he was.

~~~

“Are you serious?” Steve asked incredulously as he shut the door to his bedroom. The church was pretty small and he was the only one who stayed in the rectory there.

True to your word, you followed him all evening long, but he had thought at least at night you’d give him some peace. But no, you had swiftly entered his bedroom and were refusing to leave.

“Where else do you think I’ll sleep Steven?” You said as you laid yourself across his bed. Patting the space besides you, you asked, “Aren’t you going to join me?”

“No. I’ll sleep on the floor.” This man was a stubborn ass. “Okay. I won’t help you if you freeze. I mean I would, but if you ask nicely.” You wink at him and he just rolls his eyes.

He sets up a small dirty mattress for him to sleep and all the while you are just thinking of all the nasty things you could do. This was just the first night and you didn’t want to overwhelm the poor thing.

“Why did such a handsome man like you decide to be a priest?” You ask when both of you had settled down. “I was six when my mother passed away.” You hadn’t expected the story to begin this way. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It was a long time back, I don’t remember much. After that, the previous priest, Father Erksine took me in and looked after me. And I just knew right since then that I had to follow his footsteps.”

“Oh.” You waited for him to ask you a question in return but instead all you got was silence. “Isn’t it a bit hot?” It was fucking cold, but well, the things you had to do for your soulmate.

“I’d rather say it’s chilling.” Steve replied without thinking much. “It’s really hot for me though.” With that you got up from your bed and started undressing.

“Woahh. Wait. What are you doing?” Steve got up on his hands as you stood over him in the small room and started removing your clothes. “I can’t sleep with all these clothes Steve. It’s too hot.”

Steve knew he should’ve closed his eyes or looked away like a gentleman. But he couldn’t. When you were finally naked, he drank in every inch of your skin.

He wanted you right since the instance he had seen you. But he had taken a few vows and he had to follow them. At least till as long as he could.

His breath hitched when he saw the barbells pierced through your nipples. The soft yellow light of the bulb was glinting off the metal and his cock was painfully throbbing at the sight.

“You like these Steve?” You squatted down and straddled Steve. Taking his huge hand in yours, you placed it on your tits and squeezed it. Pleasure sizzled like electricity through your veins at just that touch.

“Steve…” you started grinding yourself on his rock hard cock. Your slick was getting smeared all over his pants. Your eyes rolled back when you heard him groan out. Your body was covered in goosebumps from arousal rather than cold.

No man had ever affected you like he did. You moaned when his hands kneaded your breasts of his own accord. And just when you thought he was on the right track, he backed away.

“I can’t do this. Please.” He swiftly picked you up and placed you back on the bed. “Steve…” you tried to encourage him but he stopped you before. “Don’t. Please don’t. It’s cold, so wear your clothes and go to sleep.”

He turned around and shut his eyes. You knew you couldn’t push him further at the moment. So you just sighed and started redressing.

But now that you knew what his touch felt like, you were addicted and you just craved him more. And that one minute where he had taken the reins, god, you’d give anything to experience it again. But at least you knew that you were making progress.

~~~

“You know you can eat it in a better way.” He chastised you as you licked the whipped cream off your fingers.

You were having your morning breakfast and though you didn’t really need food, seeing the cream on the table made a nasty idea spring up in your head. You had scooped it up on your fingers and started licking it as filthily as you could.

And poor Steve was once again caught right in your trap. Your tongue peeked out to lick off the white cream from your fingers and his mind wandered off to how you’d look while sucking his cock.

Steve quickly scolded himself for thinking about it. “You’re not gonna listen are you?” You smirked and shook your head. “Not until you fuck me.”

“Good lord.” Steve just looked at the ceiling as if praying to god and shook his head. You were either gonna be his death or his rebirth. He wasn’t sure about which exactly.

~~~

“Stevveee… I need you.” It was the third night since you met him and this man just outright refused to do anything with you. You had your needs and by now you were getting desperate.

By now Steve had arranged a cot for himself and was laying from across you. “Steeevvvveeeeee…. I know you can listen to me.” You drawled out his name to get his attention.

Finally, he did turn over to face you. “What do you want.” He grunted out. “I need you Stevie. Please.” You said in a honeyed tone. You could feel his eyes raking over your body for a moment before he pulled his blankets over his face.

“Fuck you.” You cursed before pulling your pants off. You unbuttoned your shirt enough to have your tits out. Pinching a nipple between your fingers, you played with it until it was a hard peak.

You imagined it to be Steve’s hand tweaking your nipple. And the piercings added to the whole pleasure and you whined at the feeling. How badly you wished he would just get up from the bed and just fuck your brains out.

Your other hand snaked down to your glistening folds and rubbed your petals until you were drenched. You sighed with relief when you provided much needed attention to your swollen clit.

You rubbed it in tight circles until your toes were tingling with sensation. Your eyes had fallen close and when you opened them, you saw two curious blue eyes looking intently at you.

“You know you can touch me, right?” You asked Steve as you continued to touch yourself. He didn’t reply, but neither did he turn away. He was just looking at you with an awestruck expression.

You keened when you thrusted two of your fingers into your needy hole. You rubbed your clit with your palm as you continued pumping your fingers into yourself and playing with your tits.

It had been too long for you and you were already on edge. It didn’t take you much to reach the peak, but you needed something more to fall into the abyss of pleasure.

“Steve… please, tell me to cum. Please Steve!” You knew exactly what push you needed. You weren’t sure if he’d say that, but the moment you heard his hoarse voice say, “Cum.” You tumbled down the edge.

Your legs closed right around your hand and your back arched on the bed. And Steve just couldn’t have enough of you. The way you writhed on the bed on his command made him want to just go there and fuck you within an inch of your life.

He wanted to do it. His dick wanted to do it. But Steve rogers was nothing if not a man of morals. He had taken an oath and he was going to keep it. Though looking at you, it was going to be difficult, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Once you were satisfied, you pulled back the covers to cover your body and pretended to go to sleep. You could bet all your money that Steve desperately needed attention to his dick.

But you weren’t going to ask him. He might either ask you or go to sleep uncomfortable. Turns out you were right on his stubbornness as Steve chose to not sleep the entire night than simply ask you.

~~~

It had been a whole week and there was still no response from Steve. And honestly, you were getting tired. Not just emotionally but physically too.

You were a succubus and you needed physical intimacy to survive. You fed off the pheromones your partners secreted while cumming and you needed it like a fix.

But this whole week you hadn’t left Steve’s side and that stubborn idiot didn’t care at all for your well being. And by now, you knew you couldn’t fend off your feeding any longer.

You needed to feed or else you won’t possibly wake up the next day. So you waited for Steve in his quarters eagerly. You knew this would be your make or break.

You sat up straight when Steve entered the room. He loosened his clothes and sagged into the bed. “How was your day stevie?” You went and sat besides him and unlike before, he didn’t flinch.

“It was fine. You probably were right, it does get boring after some time.” He dryly chuckled. During the past few days, you both had come to be each other’s friends.

You followed him more closely than shadow and now even Steve had come to enjoy it. So he was a little upset when you didn’t come with him this evening and instead decided to stay back.

“Are you okay? Why didn’t you come with me today?” Your heart fluttered at his question. He did care about you. “I’m tired Steve.”

“Do you need something to eat? I could get you anything.” He enthusiastically asked but you just shook your head. “I don’t need to eat Steve. I need to feed. It’s been too long.”

It was then that the realisation dawned upon him. “Ohh. I’m sorry.” That sorry hurt you more than it soothed. “Your single sorry isn’t going to save me Steve.”

“I wish I could. I really really wish things were different…” you couldn’t take it anymore. Everytime he gave the same excuse and now you were sick of it.

“I’m just sick of you giving the same excuse over and over again Steve. Just open your eyes once and stop being so selfish.!” The anger and anguish just burst forth. “I’m not being selfish!”

“Yes you are! Are your morals and vows so bigger than my life? Is it okay with you if I die?” Tears were accumulated in your eyes and were making everything blurry. “No. Please don’t say so.”

“Then what should I say Steve? I can’t pretend that everything is fine, because it is not. Do you have any idea what I’m going through?

Ever since I was a child I’ve always heard that my soulmate will love me and except me. But you won’t even look at me. I feel like a piece of shit for pestering you, but what else am I supposed to do?

I didn’t ask for you to be my mate. So why are you punishing me for it?” You didn’t cry much, but now the tears just didn’t seem to stop. “I really don’t know what to do.” Steve too had tears in his eyes.

“Steve you know what to do. All you have to do is accept me, but I know you won’t. You’re complicating everything because of your stupid vows. And I can’t spend anymore time convincing you because I will literally die.”

You hoped Steve would say yes now. But he didn’t, instead he just looked down dejectedly. “Could you really die of a broken heart?” His voice was low as he asked.

“Yes Steve. But not many reject their mates. So I don’t know when but yeah it will happen. But I suppose before that I need to feed. Because you see, what I am is a filthy succubus unworthy of the great Steven Rogers.”

Your words were like poison in Steve’s ears and he clenched his eyes shut. “I’m leaving Steve. And I’m sorry you had to tolerate me for this long but I promise I won’t come back.”

Steve still sat silently and didn’t meet your eyes. As you walked to the door, you opened it and stood in the way and turned around to look at Steve.

“I actually hoped that you would say yes at least now. And it actually breaks my heart that you aren’t even stopping me.” You let the door slide shut before walking away.

Steve didn’t know how long he was sitting on that cot with his head in his hands. He wanted to stop you, he was itching to do it. But he definitely wasn’t the guy you needed. Right?

You needed who would give you all the love and care in this world, because you deserved it. His life was so dull before you came in, but after you’d arrived not one day had gone boring.

But now that you were gone, his heart felt empty despite the blood pumping in it.

It was like you’d dug in his heart and created your own space in it and owned it for yourself. His every heart beat now belonged to you more than it did to him.

He loved you.

And now there was no going back.

All his life he had done what people expected him to do, he had been a good and a disciplined boy and never caused mischief. But for once he wanted to do something for himself.

He would become the man you wanted and deserved. He would love you like no other and keep you happy.

Maybe what they said is true, you don’t realise its value until it’s gone. He did curse himself for not realising this sooner. He checked the clock and realised not much time had passed.

Quickly doing a once over in a mirror, he set out in search of you. The village wasn’t big, but Steve looked for you at every spot he thought he’d find you.

And when he finally saw you in the back alley of a bar, he let out a relieved sigh. But that was until he took the whole picture in.

You had some guy pressed up against the wall and your hand was working furiously in his unzipped pants. Both of your eyes were closed as you lost yourself to the pleasure.

Steve saw red. He had never felt more blinding rage than he did now. How could you do this? You were his. He was an idiot to not tell this to you before, but now he wasn’t going to let some asshole touch you.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Your eyes snapped open at the thunderous voice. You could recognise that voice even from your grave.

Hearing the well mannered priest swear for the first time, you couldn’t help but gasp. That did make him even more sexier, but you weren’t going to say that out loud.

Your heart was doings leaps and bounds that your Steve had come for you. But you weren’t going to let the facade of anger slip. He deserved heat for all that he had done, or rather not done, yet.

“What the hell is your problem?” You asked separating yourself from the guy you found in this bar. “You. You are my problem.” A small smile spread across your lips as Steve repeated your words from when you first met.

Apparently the absolute terrifying gaze Steve was giving the other guy was enough for him to zip up his pants and run back into the bar. “Oh really?” You asked mockingly.

He walked up close to you and placed his hand on your throat. He was getting right to business. Your pussy was throbbing with the dominance he was radiating.

Steve held you still as he bent down to finally kiss you. The kiss practically short circuited your nerves. It was much much better than you had imagined as Steve wasn’t holding back.

His tongue fucked into your mouth sloppily as you both tried to get as close to each other as possible. You let out a whine when his hand on your throat tightened a bit.

In retaliation, you bit his lower plump lip and he groaned and pulled back from the kiss. He swiped his free hand on his lips only for it to come back with a smidge of blood.

“My nasty little demon needs to learn her place.” That was all he said before he took your hand and started walking towards his house. Gladly the rectory wasn’t far and you reached soon enough.

Once you were inside, he locked the door and turned to look at you. His eyes were so dark, only a thin line of blue was remaining. He licked his lips as he stared down at you and you followed the movement.

“Do you want this?” His voice was heavy with lust and you were already swaying on his tune. “Yes Steve. Please.”

That was all the affirmation he needed before he was once again on you. He passionately kissed you as his hands started undressing you. Getting tired of the buttons halfway through, he just tore through your shirt.

Once you were naked, he he devoured you in with his eyes before bending low and taking your nipple in his mouth. His hot tongue flicked your piercing and you moaned out his name. “Steve!“

His wet, warm mouth was sucking your nipple while his hand toyed around with the other tit. And you already knew this was going to be your best fuck ever.

Once he felt satisfied with his work, he turned to lave attention to your other nipple. He once again sucked and flicked, but this time, he purposefully bit and pulled your nipple and you thought you would cum right on spot.

Steve sucked and nibbled his way up to your mouth and pulled you in for a kiss again. Once you parted, he pushed you down on your knees.

“Take me out sweetheart. Show me how good that filthy mouth of yours is.” You didn’t know where Steve had learned talking like this, but he was making you unbearably horny.

“Yes master.” You could see the gears turning in his head. You quickly unzipped him and salivated at his girthy cock.

You licked a wide stripe on the underside of his cock from his base to the head. You kitten licked his precum beaded head before taking it in your mouth and suckling it.

“Oh fuck yeah! Just like that.” Your hot mouth around his most sensitive part was giving Steve unimaginable pleasure. And he wanted more.

Holding you tight by your hair, he experimentally thrusted his hips. You gagged at the intrusion before moaning. And the vibrations travelled up his spine.

“You’re so good at this, my pretty little cocksucker.” You were so wet that probably you were now dripping on the floor. You pumped the remaining length of the Steve with your hand while your other hand travelled below to rub your aching clit.

Steve’s eyes were focused on your lips stretching around his dick but he pulled you back the instant he saw you touching yourself. “You need some relief don’t you?” You eagerly nodded and you panted fro breath.

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself sweetheart, only master will give pleasure.” You stared at him with wide eyes filled with lust and he got off on the power. He tightened his hand in your hair, “is that clear?”

“Yes master.” Your chin and cheeks were wet with your saliva and tears and he loved seeing you so wrecked on his cock. He desperately wanted to thrust his cock back between your swollen lips, but he was sure he’d cum right then.

He pulled you up by your shoulders and set you down on the bed while you whined as you needed his cum in you. “Steve please.” You loved how easily he manhandled you.

“A few minutes more.” Without wasting much time, he started stripping. With your mouth wide open, you stared at the expanse of Steve’s body.

His muscles stood out in the dim light and you wanted to sink your teeth in his skin. Once he was draped over you on the bed, you circled your arms around his head and pulled him in for a scorching kiss.

Steve soothed his hands over your body and looked at you lovingly. “I’ve…. I’ve never done this before.” He confessed shyly and he looked so endearing while doing so.

“It’s amazing actually because I get you all for myself.” You giggled a little. “Is my little demon getting possessive?” You had no idea how you’d both gone from rough to sweet.

“Hmm… Steve please!” You sobbed as Steve teased your folds. “Is your needy little hole aching for master’s cock?” Hearing Steve talk dirty was a whole another trip.

“Yes master. Pleas….” You choked on your words when he entered you. You knew you were glowing as you were finally getting what you had craved so badly.

Feeding off a random person was pleasurable but feeding off your mate was making supernovas burst behind your eyelids.

Steve wanted to give you time, he really did, but the moment he entered your tight heat, he lost all the semblance of patience and started fucking you like an animal, hard, fast and deep.

You held on to his shoulders and you were sure your nails scratched his skin. He tilted his hips and hit your spot repeatedly. “Oh god Steve! Yes!”

The fact that you were fucking right in the church premises made the act even more filthier. Steve wasn’t able to take his lips away from you, either kissing you on your mouth or sucking your throat.

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum on your master’s cock like a good little whore?” Steve could feel you getting wetter by the second. “You like this, don’t you? You like being master’s whore.”

“Yes master!” Your legs were shaking as Steve rammed into you. “Please. Let me cum.” Steve could feel how tightly you gripped him and he knew he was getting a taste of heaven.

“Who do you belong to?” His thrusts were unrelenting and deep, hitting all the right spots. “You Steve. Only you.” Steve was regretting every second he wasted before fucking you.

Your eyes were half lidded and your entire body was pliant, just accepting him. You were taking him so good, and the realisation that you were so floaty because of him made him cum on the spot.

“Cum for me. My love, cum for me.” More than his order, the little my love sneaked in between was what did it for you. Steve couldn’t hold back either as you clenched around him.

“I love you. I love you so much.” Steve grunted out as his stomach flexed and he released his seed deep in you. You both just held on to each other’s sweaty body and calmed down.

“Do you really love me Steve?” He looked up from your neck where he had buried his head and wiped the sweat away from your forehead.

“I do. I love you and I was an idiot for not telling you before. I’m sorry for making you feel bad, but you weren’t pestering me, you are the light of my life. And just minutes without you felt so gloomy that I won’t ever want to be without you.”

You had tears in your eyes by the time he ended his small speech. No one ever had told such nice words to you. You craved this warmth, this intimacy that only Steve shared with you.

“I love you too Steve. But please don’t leave me again.” You possibly couldn’t live without Steve now that you’d mated. You could feel your bond sing in your blood.

“I’m not going to ever leave you. It’s now your turn to tolerate me for the rest of your life.” You chuckled and kissed his cheek. “I guess I can do that.”

“Hmm. It’s must’ve been so long since your last feeding and as your mate, I gotta take care of your needs.” He said in between kissing your sternum and stomach.

“Steve..” you called out his name as he placed himself between your thighs. With his thumbs, he spread apart your sensitive folds to look at the way you dripped with his seed.

“You look so beautiful. Gonna keep you filled with my cum twenty four seven. So that you’re always dripping with me.” You tugged on Steve’s hair and pulled him closer.

With his sinful tongue, he licked a wide stripe of your swollen petals. Your legs were resting on his shoulders as he devoured your pussy. He wasn’t just licking your slick, but his cum too and by god you hadn’t expected Steve to be this nasty.

He wasn’t practised but his enthusiasm made up for the lack of experience. He was paying keen attention to your moans and grunts and the tugs on his hair. He was addicted to the the taste of your pussy.

It didn’t take much for you to cum again due to the previous sensitivity. And Steve lapped up every drop you gave him. “You taste so sweet. Gotta have you for every dessert.” You had created a monster.

“You ready for another round?” Steve was hard again and your eyes rounded. You were sensitive but you weren’t going to miss the opportunity. “Yes Steve.”

The next thing you knew, he had flipped you on your stomach and had pressed himself against your back. You could feel his hard cock on your pussy and whimpered.

He pressed back into your warmth and you both moaned in unison. “Your tiny little hole is stretching so well around my fat cock. You were made for this. You were made to be master’s cumdump.”

“Oh god fuck Steve.” He had set a fast pace and with every thrust, the sound of skin slapping was reverberating throughout the room.

He spanked your ass hard and you saw stars in daylight. He wrapped his hand around your throat again and whispered in your ear, “It’s master to you.”

“Ahhh… yeah master.” His other hand started tweaking your nipple. “Gonna fuck you over and over again and give you all that you need. I’ll make you warm my cock as other people confess their sins.”

The picture that was making in your head was just delicious. “Master! That’s so hot. Please please..!” You face was buried in the pillows and your voice was smothered.

His weight on you was more like a protective blanket and you never wanted this to stop. Your hands were fisted in the sheets as he kept rutting into you from behind.

“You gonna cum? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” You had to gather your thoughts just enough to speak, “Yes please!” His grunts were filling your ears and they were better than any other music. “Cum for me, my little demon.”

“Steve!” This time the whole world crashed as you came. Nothing else mattered except you and Steve. Your legs quivered and you writhed beneath Steve.

You moaned when you felt the satisfying feeling of his hot cum filling you. He suckled on your sweet spot on your nape as you both panted on the sheets.

You let out a chuckle as a thought came in your mind. “What happened?” He asked sleepily. Sleep was slowly taking its effect over both of you.

“When I first met you, I thought I’d be the one to ruin you. But turns out you’re the one ruining me.” You could feel his chest shake as he laughed. “It’s like I unleashed this demon within you.”

“Yes you have.” He replied as he nuzzled you. “Steve.?” You were sleepy too but you needed just one more answer. “Yes?”

“Did you mean it when you said you’d make me warm your cock as you sat in the confessional?” Steve playfully spanked your ass and you grumbled, “Ouch!”

“You better sleep now, little demon. Or I won’t let you cum tomorrow and trust me, I’ve planned some fun activities.” You gasped and quickly shut your eyes. “You better keep up your promises master.”

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iwadori · 3 years

Text

Haikyu Boys when they make you insecure PT 2(Atsumu,Suna)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

word count: 1.6K

Genre: angst,fluff

Masterlist

Atsumu:

You have been dating the great setter of the MSBY Jackals since your third year in highschool

You’ve always been okay with his profession

Even when it comes with the adoring fans he has (the ones that don’t necessarily like you..)

And the away games he goes to, that you can’t always go to because of your job.

You and Atsumu got to spend all of quarantine together, which was challenging at times. As you and Atsumu sometimes did have conflicting personalities but you loved being together for 8months + altogether.

But now with the restrictions being lifted, Atsumu got to go back to practice and playing some games although you still got to work from home. Over lockdown, you do feel like you gained a bit of weight (which you didn’t pay much attention to since didn’t everyone gain some weight?)

However, today you were scrolling through twitter, smiling fondly at the recent tweet ‘tsumu made about you;

@ ThebetterMiya: ‘Remember this @ *Insert your twitter handle here* ‘

It was a picture of the two of you in high school in your second year, with you giving Atsumu a hug just after his game against Karasuno. The memory made you smile, but your positive thoughts stopped after seeing a particular comment... “Y/N has definitely let herself go” it read.

To your surprise Atsumu even liked the comment, you didn’t want to overthink things as you know that Atsumu just unconsciously likes comments and tweets without thinking all the time. But you can’t lie and say you didn’t agree with the comment.

For the rest of the day, you spent your time googling and searching personal trainers and gyms that were open for you to go to and new healthy diet plans to try

.Atsumu came home a while later, tired and grumpy claiming that coach worked him extra hard in practice. Because of your newfound idea to start eating and being more healthy, you decided to have one last day of ‘letting go’ so your ordered yours and ‘tsumu’s favourite take out.

Whilst eating dinner, you were going INNN as you should because this is basically your ‘last meal’ you were going to have. ‘tsumu caught onto your cavemen-like way of eating which made him chuckle a bit. “Hey babe, woahh you’re really hungry aren’t ya?”

His comment threw you off, even though you know that he probably didn’t mean anything by it but from the comment on his twitter earlier and how you already feel about yourself it just didn’t help.

“Well what do you mean about that?” you say a little agressively “you think i’m getting bigger right?”

Your question threw him off guard since he didn’t mean that “well Y/N I know you’ve kinda let youself go a bit and you’re obviously not the weight you were when we 16 but-” before he could finish you get up out of your seat and rushed to your room with tears in your eyes, missing the end of his sentence which was “but I still think you’re beautiful” he murmurs.

He decided to give you some space for a bit, and before approaching he see’s your phone ringing (lets just say you and Atsumu have ultimate trust so you can answer eachothers phones :3) “Hello is this Y/N L/N” the person on the otherside of the phone asked

“No, this is Miya Atsumu” your boyfriend replied

“Oh! Miya-san i’m a big fan of you!” he started making Atsumu chuckle “I was just calling Y/N to say i’m available next week saturday to start training”

‘Training?’ Atsumu thought “Can I ask what training you’re preparing for with Y/N” he asks

“Oh I am a personal trainer.” he replied “ Well that’s all I can say, can you please tell Y/N-san to call me again so we can work out times.” he ended the call.

Atsumu goes into your shared-bedroom where he finds you on your laptop looking at ‘weight loss’ tips. He goes over to you and closes your laptop lid and pulls your hand to lead you to the mirror in the room. He stands you in front of it and puts his arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder.

“You’re beautiful Y/N” he says, sparking more tears in your eyes “I think you misunderstood what I said earlier, you. are. goregous. babe” he says punctuating every single word. “Even, if you feel like you gained weight, or lost weight or whatever I will always think your beautiful. If you feel like you want or need to change I will definitely support you along the way, but I think you’re amazing Y/N.”

“Thank you ‘tsumu” you start “ I do feel a bit insecure about the way I look right now, and I’m sorry for my abrupt leave at dinner but I do feel like my body is gross but I do want to try to see myself the way you see me.”

After many efforts from Atsumu, you definitely fell back in love with your body wether you were bigger or small you didn’t care cause you knew you were beautiful either way and so did Atsumu which he reminded you of that every single day.

AN: Can someone give me a synonym for beautfiul lmao cause that’s the only word I can think to use lol.

Suna:

You and Suna have always surprised people when they find out that you’re together.

Since your loud and talkative personality mixed with his quiet and nonchalantness is that a word? seems to not work well for other people

But opposites attract right?

You just finished the last episode of Kakegurui and were excited for your boyfriend to come home so you can tell him about it. You and Suna have been dating for a few years, after you confessed to him in front of all the boys in the gym in your 3rd year.

Suna enters the house mumbling a soft “Hi Y/N” to which you responded back with “Hi suna” rushing towards your boyfriend with a big hug.

He slightly recoiled back out of your hug making you frown, to which he used the excuse of ‘I smell bad from practice let me take a shower.’ Whilst he was in the shower you decided to make some dinner for you both since it seems that Suna is a bit ‘grumpy’ today.

Once he exits the shower, and gets changed, he sees the table set out with the delicious food you made. You exit the bathroom to see him sat down already eating his plate. “How do you like it ?” you ask him wanting to know his opinion on your food.

“It’s good” he mumbles, continuing to shove food in his mouth. A bit bothered by the lack of response, you decide to talk about the newest episode in the hopes of lighting the mood. “Last episode of Kakegurui was great Rin, you should’ve seen it I really love mary. She’s great, I am a Mary Saotome simp through and through I still didn’t get the game they played but who cares? I can’t wait for season 3 to come out, I’ve already ordered the first 3 volumes of the Kakegurui twin manga, do you think it’s as good as the manga since I do think it’ll probably be better since it is Mary-centric and who hates mary since she-” You ramble on not taking notice of the bubbling annoyance that Suna seemed to have.

“Can you just shut up Y/N” he shouted making you flinch “ You’re so fucking talktative gosh” he got up and left the house slamming the door shut making you jump again.

Instead of wallowing in your bed you decide on going out the library to go and read a good book (something that always makes you feel better) forgetting the harsh tone that Suna used with you. You were only trying to lighten the mood...

You got too engrossed with your books to notice how the sun is now gone and it was pitch black outside, the librarian notified you that it was time to go, you figure that if Suna was back at home he would’ve cooled down now so you can have a proper conversation which to be honest, you didn’t really want one.

Once you enter your house, Suna rushes towards you enveloping you in a big hug murmuring a “Oh thank god I was so worried” he tried to give you a kiss on the forehead but you recoil out of it, just as he did to you earlier.

“I think i’m going to go to bed Rin” you say quietly trudging towards your bedroom and getting immediately in your bed. Suna stood there in the spot you left him in feeling bad for what he said to you at dinner. He goes into you bedroom and see you on your bed and silently gets into it next to you.

“Y/N I know you probably don’t want to hear me right now, but I am sorry” You don’t respond but slowly move closer to him letting him put his arm around you. Because of your silence Suna continues to speak “Umm...I watched the last episode earlier and you were right Mary Saotome is the goat but.... yumeko is better” he said teasingly

This made you smile, as this is what you wanted a nice moment with your boyfriend talking about the last episode of your favourite show. You spend the rest of the night arguing over which character is better and decide to start Demon Slayer together, with Suna enjoying your after episode talks that you have.

AUTHOR NOTE: I was really excited to write for Suna and Atsumu but I have a fat migraine so i’m so sorry for it not being thattt gooood today :// but I hope you enjoy it regardless

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #haikyu angst #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x female reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #suna x reader #suna angst #suna fluff #haikyuu suna #suna scenarios #signedwithane😌

3K notes · View notes

badassbuchanan · 3 years

Text

Call for Assistance

Request: Hi hi! Idk if you write for Seb or not but if you do, maybe could you do a fic where reader is his assistant and sometimes that means assisting him with ~those~ needs 👉👈🥺

Warnings: smut; oral (male receiving), dirty talk, semi-public.

Word Count: 2246

a/n: I’m sorry the ending is so cheesy lmao - requests and taglist are open!

“There you are.” I smiled brightly as I walked into Sebastian’s private dressing room, throwing my Gucci purse on to the velvet armchair in the corner of the room.

Tonight he was a special guest on The Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon, it was one of the only talk shows he didn’t mind doing. Tonight’s appearance was part of the publicity schedule for new The Falcon and The Winter Soldier series, but unfortunately, Mackie wasn’t able to attend.

I knew how nervous Seb got doing these interviews without his colleague beside him, which is why I wasn’t surprised when I was beckoned to his dressing room before he was set to go on.

Seb turned from where he was preping himself in the reflection of the mirror, a smile of relief appearing on his face when he saw me.

He was sporting a simple crisp white shirt, buttoned up with a navy tie around his neck. A black, open suit jacket and matching pants hugged his body nicely, complimenting his skin tone. His hair was slicked back and I could tell he hadn’t shaved today just by the slightest bit of stubble growing through his face.

“You feeling okay?” I asked innocently, walking over to stand in front of him as I patted down his chest to get rid of any dust which may have settled there.

His whole week was a full of press interviews and I knew exactly how much he’d be dreading it. He worked himself up and overthought everything, and he got real touchy when he was nervous.

Sebastian wrapped his arms around my waist softly, head dropping as he whined into my neck. I chuckled lightly, unable to hide the smile which covered my face as I ran a hand through his hair lightly. “It’s just part of the job, you know that. and you love your job.”

“Why do you have to be right all the time?” He mumbled against my skin, a smile curling on his lips in amusement. Seb leaned his head back against the wall behind him, peering down at me with a cheeky smile.

He looked fucking hot. Too hot.

“Because one of us has to be.” I raised an eyebrow and smiled up at him in admiration, my chest pressed against his as I played with the back of his hair, careful not to mess it up.

I could smell his aftershave and it was intoxicating. “C’mere.” He gestured me closer with his head, causing me to move my face closer to his. “Help me relax.”

Seb took my lips with his, kissing me softly as he pulled my hips forward to rub against him.

I nodded as I kissed him back softly, tilting my head to give him more access. I part my lips slightly, letting my tongue gently run over his bottom lip.

Seb let out a grunt that vibrated from his throat, taking the lead as he glides his tongue teasingly into my mouth.

I let my other hand glide up touch his chest over the steamed shirt, feeling the definition of body. I sighed in satisfaction, deliberately palming over his nipples as my hand moved across the material of the shirt.

Sebastian moaned into my mouth, his kisses passionate and needy. It soon became too much, my clit twitching when I felt his hard cock pressing against my body.

I leaned my head back, my eyes dropping to the space where our crotches are rubbing together. I noticed his big cock straining against the material of his pants, desperate for attention.

“You like it when I touch your nipples, hm?” I asked sweetly, my hand roaming further down his chest to his toned stomach.

“Yeah.” Seb let out in a desperate grunt, his hips bucking to mine as I leaned in again, this time leaving gentle kisses down his neck.

I let out a little whine, causing vibrations to erupt against the skin of his neck. “Seb.” I nipped at his sensitive skin, feeling him buck his hips again as I moved my hand to the waistband of his pants.

Seb’s hands moved up to my waist, over my back and around to my tummy, just under my boobs as he gripped on the black lacy material of my top. “Off.” He whined with a pout.

“I can’t, bub.” I sighed sadly, pouting back as I used the pet name to soften him up. I skilfully unbuttoned his pants before lowering my hand inside, feeling my way into his underwear as I looked up into his gorgeous eyes. “It’s a bodysuit.”

Sebastian whined again out of frustration, unable to get what he wanted before he came up with the perfect solution. He tugged on the material each side of the low cut ‘v’ shape between my cleavage, adjusting it so that it rest under either side of my boobs, my tits now on full display for him.

“That’s better.” Seb smiled proudly, satisfied with himself as he cupped my tits in his hands, massaging them as my nipples harden under his touch.

My fingers wrapped around his cock as I kissed the base of his neck, pumping him slowly whilst collecting precum from his tip. Seb was big, but he looked even bigger with my tiny hand wrapped around him.

I leaned back with a smile, watching him play with my chest as his eyes focused on my tits. He tugged harshly on my pebbled nipples with his rough fingers. I bit my lip, fucking his cock with my hand as I felt myself getting wet.

I moved my lips millimeters away from his, our breaths meeting as we pant against each other. “M‘not gunna last, darling.” Seb whimpered out, his eyes looked up to gaze into mine.

“S’okay,” I squeak out reassuringly, lust taking over as my palm feels every vein on his cock. “You feel so good in my hand.”

“I wanna cum in your mouth.” Seb admitted in a mumble, his hands tugging on my sides to pull me down. I knew he was getting desperate from the way he was starting to talk dirty.

I kept my hand wrapped around him inside his pants as I got down on my knees in front of him. I shuffled close to him, Seb helped push his trousers down, out of the way, so that his cock could spring up freely.

I licked my lips, wasting no time guiding his tip towards my mouth with my hand. I kissed his leaking tip, swirling my tongue around it as Seb gasped loudly at the feeling of my hot mouth on him.

I hummed around his tip, still pumping his shaft with my hand as his hands moved to the back of my hair, guiding me further down on him.

Seb’s eyes closed tightly, a hiss escaping his clenched jaw as I replaced my hand with my mouth, taking him all in.

I moaned around his length, trying not to choke as I breath shallowly. My hands rested on his thick thighs, saliva escaping the corner of my mouth as I wait for him to take control.

But he doesn’t, he’s too fucked out, too close to even move. I could tell by the way his chest was rising and falling so uneven, trying his best to keep it together. Sweat was building on his forehead and above his parted lips, his eyes only opening when I started to bob my head up and down his length.

I flattened my tongue, relaxing my throat so I could fuck his cock with my mouth. I looked up at Seb, eyes so hooded he almost looked drunk, his hands dropping from my head weakly as his head dropped back against the wall behind him.

His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, he didn’t want to cum. It felt too good. He loved the way my lips felt so soft moving up and down his length. My mouth so warm and welcoming for him.

It sent me crazy seeing him like this, desperate to make him cum, to please him. I swallowed around his length, keeping him deep inside as my tongue flicked rapidly against the underside of his shaft.

My fingers traced ever so slightly over his balls, immediately causing him to cum with one final moan, spilling his load into my mouth. I pulled my head back, opening my mouth wide as he shot every single drop of his cum inside.

I watched his cock twitch, his eyes now glued on my mouth as I swallowed all of him.

Seb tried to calm himself down as I stood back up, tucking my boobs back into my top before helping him re-do his pants back up, his cock safely inside.

“You relaxed now?” I asked softly, looking up into his blown out eyes as he admired me with a nod.

“So relaxed.” Seb leaned in to mumble against my lips, making me smile against him as my arms wrapped around his neck.

“I’m glad to hear it, mister.” I replied sweetly, pecking his lips over and over.

“Mr Stan.” A voice called from beyond the door, startling us both with how loud they knocked.

“Mmh, maybe I’m still a little stressed.” Seb mumbled between kisses, making me giggle at the audacity he had to ignore whoever was knocking.

“Sebastian!” I used his full name to notify him of the seriousness of the situation, leaning my head back as I smile up at him in adoration.

“You’re on, Mr Stan.” The person decided to call out again anyway, hoping that someone inside would be paying attention.

“Guess it’s showtime.” He pouted slightly, stealing another kiss before he let go of me. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Thanks for coming.” I respond with an innocent smile, my cheeky comment catching Seb’s attention as his head swings around with a smirk.

“Just you wait till I’m done with this interview.” He shook his head, chuckling in amusement at my remark as he opens the door, taking one last glance back at me, which was when I noticed it. My heart sunk.

“Oh wait, Seb-“ I called out but it was too late. He’d gone. I didn’t get to tell him. Oh well. No one would notice right? Not a single one of the national viewers would notice the lipstick on his lips and neck, right?

———————- LIVE ON THE AIR ————————

“So Sebastian, we’ve talked about the new show, the friendships and behind the scenes mayhem, the travelling, even the amount of lube needed to get into your costume.” Jimmy cracked the joke as he started speaking, crossing his arms as he lent back in his chair.

“That’s right.” Seb nodded shyly, speaking unnecessarily to amuse himself with a little smirk as he became more comfortable in the interview.

“But one thing I think everyone is dying to know,” Jimmy continued, building suspense as he swivelled in his chair towards the audience, gesturing for them to nod in encouragement.

“Okay.” Seb dragged the word out slowly, anticipating what it could be as he sat up a little straighter in the armchair. He chuckled nervously, tugging on his jacket to straighten it.

“Is how exactly those lipstick marks on your neck got to be there.” Jimmy said in a wonderfully sarcastic tone, eyebrows raised as the audience cheered loudly.

Seb suddenly stopped all of his movements, trying to keep a straight face as the crowd kept on cheering. He stared at Jimmy, who was now giggling like a little school girl.

Seb caved after a couple of seconds, laughing loudly as he leaned forward to cover his face with embarrassment of being called out.

“And Sebastian,” Jimmy continued as Seb regained his posture, sucking in his cheeks and sitting up straight as he tried to get rid of his guilty smile, faking a frown of concentration.

“Yeah?” Seb answered shyly, letting out a nervous cough as his face twitched back into a smile momentarily.

“I couldn’t help but notice that Y/N is here with you tonight.” Jimmy’s words make my heart drop as a spotlight points me out in the audience.

My eyes go wide, but I can’t help but laugh as everyone cheers loudly. I cover my mouth, watching Seb able to do nothing but clap for me from the stage.

“So.” Jimmy dragged out the word in a high pitched voice. “am I right in suggesting that Y/N might’ve visited your dressing room before the show?”

Seb smirked, rubbing his hand over his mouth, his silence hid nothing considering the fact that his face completely gave it away. There was no point in him denying it.

I covered my face with my hands, utterly shocked that we had been called out on national television.

“Yeah.” Seb let out in a shaky breath, a beaming smile on his face as he chuckled from embarrassment too, his tongue running over his bottom lip.

The audience clapped, screeched and cheered at his answer, making me want to disappear in my chair.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jimmy called out as the audience continued cheering us on. “Mr Sebastian Stan and Miss Y/N Y/L/N.”

And just like that, the cat was out of the bag. The many rumours confirmed. The many fans who shipped us would be tweeting, we’d probably be trending in an hour. I guess I’d just have to convince his publicist that we did it as a stunt.

I promised myself that after that, I was never going to attempt any kind of sexual activity in a public place again. But I knew that was a lie.

taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

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buckmepapi · 2 years

Note

I hate scrolling through the comments on part one of scream for me because it’s people asking to be tagged. It’s like they IGNORED the entire paragraph before the story even started explaining that you don’t do tag lists (AND the comment you left). If it irks me I can only imagine what you feel. I don’t know, maybe you are a better person than me but it pisses me off. Anyway, I am SO excited for part 2!!

Thank god someone else has noticed. It pisses me the fuck off

Every post I make I say I don’t do taglists so stop asking, like stop being so fucking lazy, just follow my library and turn on notifications and it will do the exact same fucking thing that a taglist would do, it will literally notify you lmao

Plus all these random accounts who comment that, don’t even reblog the fic they want to be tagged in so why should I tag someone who’s that selfish lmao

Like the shits highlighted in red and boldened how more clear do I need to be.

Im gonna have to put it in all caps at the start and end of the posts or I’ll make a comment threatening people with blocks if they can’t listen, I’m sick and tired of it, my shit gets spammed constantly with it and I’m just gonna start blocking people who ask

I’m definitely not a better person bc I’m deffo at the stage where I will tell people to go fuck themselves and block them HAHAH

I’m glad you enjoyed the first part !! Hopefully I can get around to finishing the second part I have written up 😎

#answered #♡ — ❛❛ // anon #scream for me #buckmepapi #k;#personal #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x reader smut #Sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan characters #Bucky Barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes imagine #Sebastian stan smut

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honey-hippie-harper · 3 years

Text

Infrangible

AFGHSAGHJS THIS IS SO LATE IS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE LMAO

In my defense, I stopped being a person long ago and now, in all the ways except physical, I happen to be a potato. BUT ANYWAY :’) This is for the Renegades Ship Week hosted by @greasicookies <3 (Thanks again!), for day 5, which is Maxpie. The prompt is “secrets”! <3

I had a tough time writing this because I’m going through a lot of stuff rn :’) still, I hope you can enjoy it x’ddd.

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @the-wee-woo-rita and afsghagshja @all-weather-is-bad (because this is a very...me fic lol and I think you’re already used to my sad attempt at humor haahahaah i’M SORRY AGSHJAKL) AND @lackadae because agshjs I made a reference to one of your drawings, hon :’) (I promise once again, to catch up with your content once I feel better afsghjak).

And that’s it. I hope you like it <3

When Max turned nine, he reached the conclusion that everybody forgot their early years at some point. Before, Adrian had already explained to him that wasn’t quite true, because he misunderstood Max’s statement and thought he was feeling bad about himself for not being able to recall certain things. He told him that, unlike what he thought –which was false because that’s not what Max meant- people usually couldn’t store those memories from when they were younger than three.

“Some people do.” He said. “But it’s normal if you don’t remember anything from when you were…I don’t know. Two.”

“Do you remember anything from when you were two?” Max asked him.

From the other side of the glass, Adrian scrunched up his nose. And then, obviously, he saw himself in the need to adjust his glasses.

“I’m not quite sure whether I was two or not. But I do know I was younger than five.” He started. “There was a small canal on the way to the apartment. When it rained, it would grow a lot. It didn’t have big torrents or anything, but it did grow a lot. The water usually went higher than my ankles. But the thing was…that every time it grew, it became infested with turtles.”

He paused for a second.

“I really liked turtles.” He continued, shrugging. “My mother used to let me walk down to the water, as long as she was right behind me, obviously; one day, when we were coming back from the city, she stopped to attend a call. I got too impatient and went down alone when she wasn’t looking. The next thing I remember is that, just when I was getting up after catching a turtle, I felt her tugging me by the back of my shirt. The turtle fell on its shell.”

At that point, Max realized he had been staring at how he kept on fidgeting with his pen instead of looking him in the eye, but he continued doing so, because he didn’t like it when Adrian’s voice turned that serious.

“…She had never screamed at me like that.” He said, as if he were talking to himself and then, to erase the tension, he tried to scoff. “I don’t remember what she said, but I remember that she said it so loud I told her she was scaring the turtle. Then I started crying. Like, a lot. I think she was terrified too.”

In the end, everything turned too quiet for his liking, and Max did something his dad had advised him to do for times like these, when he just didn’t know what came next: Improvise.

“I didn’t know you liked turtles.”

“…Well, I did. I really liked turtles when I was younger.”

Max had seen a couple of turtles in his life, but not as many as Adrian had seen, he supposed, because Max had never stepped outside, except when he was a baby.

Which was exactly the point.

He didn’t have memories from when he was a baby, or a toddler. Most of the people who had come to talk to him had said they remembered events that were either too sad (like Adrian) or meaningful in their lives. Max didn’t have anything like that. In fact, his first –very blurry- memory was standing on the edge of the quarantine, with his hands pressed against the crystal, and then licking it.

According to his dads, he was between three and four (“He was three, Simon. What are you talking about?” “He was born in November.” “It wasn’t November yet.” “We had just celebrated his birthday. He was four.” “HE WASN’T FOUR, SIMON! HE WAS THREE! THREE! We were celebrating that his quarantine had just been built!” “IT WAS THE SAME EVENT, HUGH!”) and Aunt Tamaya, plus the both of them, were in the hallway. For some reason, the fact that his eyes were so huge (they were still big. But they were bigger when he was a baby) came off as odd to Tamaya. And the moment they made eye contact, he licked the glass.

Nobody knew why. Not even himself. The adults remembered it better than he did, of course, but none of them had ever been able to guess the reasoning behind it. They often expressed Max had been a very strange baby, mostly because of his lack of social skills. It’s not like he had chosen that, and it’s not like his fathers would’ve allowed it to happen if they had had any other option. But Max wasn’t willing to stand there and pretend that he knew what he was doing, either.

Most of the time, he didn’t.

He barely held any memories of the nurses that had ever been in charge of his care, but, for obvious reasons, he remembered Dad. It was always easier to remember the person who had taken care of you the most, he supposed. And Max knew, among a lot of things, that it wasn’t his other dad’s fault. Though, sometimes, he couldn’t help but blame him.

Again, he didn’t know why, but there were those days, when he needed he the most, where a voice inside of his head told him that, if Simon loved him enough, he would just sacrifice his powers to be with him. His powers weren’t that useful for combat anyway.

“Okay, but that’s kinda mean.” Adrian told him the first time he opened up about it, the night before he attended the Trials to choose the members of his patrolling team. “Pops might not have combat powers, but they’re as important as the rest of the members’. That’s why they work so well as a team, you know? Every power can be extremely helpful during a battle, as long as you know how to use it.”

Max wasn’t doing anything in particular that day. Nothing besides listening to Adrian and sitting on the floor , at least.

“But if every power is useful…” He said, tilting his head to the side. “…Why are you allowed to reject certain aspirants?”

Adrian frowned a little, not in the sense that he looked angry at Max. Rather, he was confused by the question and was trying to word the answer in a way that sounded rational.

“Because…” He gulped and clicked his tongue. “…Like I said…uhm…the Council is an extremely good team. They’ve been doing this for a while. Us, the patrolling leaders are…allowed to reject certain prodigies because we don’t have as much experience as them. And…we might not know how to use somebody’s powers, and that’s very dangerous. We don’t want people dying, do we?”

When he said that, something clicked inside Max’s brain, and he nodded in automatic. Obviously, a few years ago, a non-prodigy teacher had taught him how to read, and the moment Adrian notified him it was his year to be in the Trials, he managed to read the manual and the rules for the event, from a booklet and a pamphlet (respectively) he had asked his dad to bring for him. He didn’t get much new information, different from the one he heard on TV or the one presented in the posters. However, amongst the rules, there was a section that talked about banned powers, which contained only two categories:

-Complete telekinesis.

-Stardust modelling.

“Yeah.” Dad told him. He was bathing him in the quarantine’s bathroom (Of course. Where else?). “Stardust catchers…which….are able to model stardust, are extremely dangerous and there’s not much research about them. Nobody really knows how they work, and it would be pretty difficult for us to… handle a prodigy like that.”

“Like me.”

Dad had always had a pretty specific routine he had to follow when bathing him. If he missed or misplaced a step, he acted like would explode or something. Also, Max didn’t understand why, but ever since he started growing thicker hair, Dad became pretty strict on the fact they should take care of it so it would grow healthy. Hence why they had a full hair routine that they did in the bathtub. That day, the statement caught him so off-guard he grabbed the wrong bottle, and then, when he realized it, he was already pouring the dense liquid (that looked more like a paste to him) on Max’s head. Cursing under his breath, he placed his other hand in the middle so it would fall over his palm, washed Max’s head and started the routine all over again, before changing the subject:

“About complete telekinesis…there’s obviously a lot of research about that power. We know how to manage with that. But telekinetic prodigies are not …very accepted in our society. They’re pointed at…Frowned upon. In the worst of cases, other prodigies hunt them down and then kill them.”

In that moment, Max came to the conclusion that all that changing the subject thing had been in vain.

Because, from his part, the answer was exactly the same:

“Like me.”

And Dad didn’t like that, for he started scratching his scalp harder, accidentally.

“No. It’s nothing like you.” He said. “You’re not like that, Max. Society hates telekinesis because some evil dude decided to use his powers, his telekinesis, for awful reasons and stained prodigy’s names. You’re not like that. You’re not abusive, or selfish or evil. And I don’t want to hear you comparing yourself to him ever again. Understood?”

To this day, that was the most aggressive form of validation someone had ever given him, but Max took it anyway, because he trusted Dad, and if he had said something like that, then there had to be a clear reason behind it.

“Understood.” He whispered.

And he tried, he really tried, to believe it. But, like many other things, no matter how hard Max tried, he was still severely confused. Not that he didn’t know about the Age of Anarchy, or the parties involved in the Age of Anarchy.

The quarantine, needless to say, could get pretty boring most of the time. Max had to do a lot of things to kill time, and some of those activities involved reading books that children shouldn’t be reading. He did read some children’s books, but then he would find himself looking through history articles and books, and reading the chapters that interested him the most. For instance, he was confident he knew about the Age of Anarchy, but one thing was knowing about it, and another, different thing, was having an opinion about in regards to it.

Max didn’t know if he had something to say about the topic. If he did, it was a very incomplete idea, and it was very likely he wouldn’t be able to phrase it correctly.

The group of people Max talked the most to were adults, and those adults, especially the ones who had experienced the Age of Anarchy and somehow managed to make it out alive, refused to talk about it. As for the few children he had talked to…

Well, about them…

Long story short, they had lives.

They all had lives outside of a glass, unlike Max. Maybe they weren’t the most interesting of lives, but at least they for sure had to be more interesting than his’. They didn’t have a pre-established schedule, where a designated person would come in to feed him or extract blood samples from his body, to then take them to the laboratory. They didn’t have to hear a total of seven alarms to remind him what he had to do: Wake up and get dressed, have breakfast and brush his teeth, enter the virtual sessions with his teachers, take a shower, have his blood samples taken, start doing his homework –if he had any- and do whatever he wanted once he was finished, have dinner, brush his teeth and go to bed, and then start all over again.

That moment, when he had spare time, would be the same one normal kids used to go out with their friends, like Adrian did. To go to the park and get themselves a scarily huge wound at the center of their knee. To live. To breathe air. To do…literally anything that wasn’t this.

Because Max was different from the many children he hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to meet or talk to, because, obviously, they wouldn’t want to spend the whole day hanging out with a person…like him.

The only way Max could see two out of the three people in his family was through a crystal wall. And he couldn’t kiss them, he couldn’t touch them… sometimes he even wondered if he knew how their voices sounded, because, after all, Dad’s voice sounded the tiniest bit different once he crossed that infamous glass door.

He couldn’t walk through the streets of Gatlon, because, for starters, he didn’t know them. And if he dared to go out there, he would get killed on spot for having accidentally neutralized a prodigy who didn’t want to be neutralized.

Other kids had nannies whom they complained about when their parents couldn’t look after them (at least that’s the kind of things he saw on the TV shows he watched) but Max had patrol units that would move from one corner of the room to another, ready to attack anyone who came closer than necessary to him, because the only one who could take care of him in person, was Hugh.

Other kids could go out freely, without being scared of anything at all. They could get hurt while having fun with their friends and family. They could laugh until they cried with them. They could hug them, sleep in the same bed as them. They could walk their pets, go on road trips, go to amusement stores, water parks…

They could experience the current world; watch all the new events that were happening every day, in first hand.

They didn’t have to read about the past, or the people from the past to keep themselves entertained. They didn’t have the need to do that. At all.

They were living the lives Max couldn’t have, because he was too dangerous for that.

And obviously, that’s why he couldn’t just…go around asking other kids about what was their favorite bug, their favorite planet…or their opinions about Ace Anarchy, and if Pops (Simon) saying “Alec, with an A as in Abusive Swine” made them laugh.

Besides, he hadn’t even met that many kids his age. Or kids, for that matter.

He was aware Adrian wasn’t exactly a grown up, but he wasn’t a kid either, so, he usually didn’t make it into that list.

In fact, just like the banned powers in that manual, there were only two kids in Max’s list of acquaintances.

Aunt Tamaya’s first baby was born without powers, when Max was like four years old, and his dads were way too excited about it (Weird thing to brag about out loud, honestly, because all the recruits in the Headquarters were betting ridiculous amounts of money on which powers the Thunderbaby would have –Max could hear them- and one day they just heard The Dread Warden storming into the hallway, euphorically screaming “GUESS WHAT, MY LITTLE CHERUB BABY? YOUR COUSIN IS ABSOLUTELY FREAKING POWERLESS!”), for they thought Max would finally be able to have a friend who was more or less his age. Dad was the one who brought him in, two weeks after he was born. He was still tiny, red and chubby, and wrapped in his three different blankets that way, he looked like a bloated marshmallow.

Aunt Tamaya, her husband, Pops, Adrian, Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Evander were outside (as always) waiting to see what happened…and, it was extremely odd for Max to admit it, but he couldn’t remember much about that moment, even though he was already older than three. There was, however, a video taken by Uncle Evander where, if you narrowed your eyes hard enough, you could see the moment Max burst into tears right after kissing the baby’s cheek.

Neil was his friend.

At least, Max considered him to be his friend. Still, they had an age gap of four whole years, and a part of him was waiting until he was a little older so they could be on the same page. Because sometimes, when Neil couldn’t comprehend something semi-important that Max had just said, things could get pretty awkward, because there were occasions when, if Neil got too frustrated over anything, he would start crying, and his sobs often summoned his mother all the way from across the building. She never particularly tried to put the blame on Max. In fact, she hadn’t even glared at him not once, ever.

But she did choose to take him with her, into her office, or ask Adrian to babysit him while he calmed down. Afterwards, he usually didn’t come back to the quarantine.

“It’s not your fault, Max.” Pops would tell him, always. “It’s just that…Neil...he’s younger than you. There are things that might be…easy to you, but that are super complicated to him. And you might be able to do things that he can’t, and he can’t understand why he can’t, so he gets super confused and angry and that’s why he cries and Tamaya has to come and comfort him.”

“That, and because she’s like a...very freaky bird mom who hears her children cry and comes around with her super sonic enhanced sense of hea—“

“Hugh, don’t be rude.”

Every time they had that discussion in front of him, Max could never understand why Pops said Dad was being rude. He was right, to a certain extent. Aunt Tamaya was just…being a mom.

And that’s what moms did.

At least, that’s what Max had read and seen on TV because families like his’ were…super rare to find in his cartoons or favorite books. In fact, the times when he had seen himself represented in any of the things were so few that, for the longest time, Max had this weird, messed up idea that biological men could give birth. He thought that Adrian, apart from the fact that he was the closest to him, looked more similar to Simon, and that had to mean he had given birth to him, while Hugh had been the one to give birth to Max.

One year, when Max was six, they finished Lady Indomitable’s gigantic golden statue, placed downtown. It was late June, and though the city had previously looked covered in colors, that day it just looked…white and golden. That’s the best way Max could find to put it into words.

According to Max’s weather application, the heat was unbearable that day (good thing he couldn’t feel anything because the temperature in the quarantine was always regulated) yet, according to what he was seeing in one of his screens, a great percentage of the citizens of Gatlon were marching in the streets carrying floating lanterns, headed towards downtown where the event was being held.

The Council was standing in front of the covered statue. All of them except Blacklight, who had stayed to take care of the Headquarters, and Max could see him from where he was. They gave a speech about Lady Indomitable together, and as they started revealing the statue, Tsunami sang a song that was supposed to be one of Lady Indomitable’s favorite ones, and that Max was too young to recognize (he supposed). In his opinion, it was a cute event, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t utterly confused the moment he saw Adrian taking one step ahead to be the first one to let go of his floating lantern, which was different from the other ones, because his’ was bigger, and it had a big “I”. Besides, people waited a couple of seconds until it was stable above their heads to let go of their own floating lanterns.

It still looked cute to him, but now it looked weird as well. So he got up from his chair, and walked towards the edge, pressing his hands against the glass. He hoped that would be enough to magically catch Evander’s attention, who was, at the moment, using his chair as a swing, as he typed a number in his computer, copying it from his calculator and eating from his salad every now and then. Obviously, Max’s telepathic call wasn’t enough, and he had to knock on the glass a couple of times, loudly. Even then, Uncle Evander didn’t look up in his direction.

But he did hear him, because he did respond.

“It’s not gonna work, Maximus. I’m not getting you out.”

As a side note, Max considered telling him his full name was Maximilian and not Maximus, because that was way before he realized it was a nickname. Nevertheless, he just let it pass, for the simple reason he had better things to ask. That’s why he proceeded to knock again, instead of speaking.

“What is it?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

Evander tried to steady himself in the chair without falling on his back, and once he succeeded, he came closer to the quarantine, with his arms over his hips.

“Why is Adrian doing that?” He asked, just because he wasn’t able to find another way to phrase it, while pointing at the screen behind him; Evander narrowed his eyes following his finger, as if he hadn’t been watching the event himself from a livestream on his phone. A few seconds later, he seemed to realize what he was talking about, and bit his upper lip, before pouting barely a little.

Then, he clicked his tongue.

“Because that’s his mom. And today’s her birthday.”

And it’s not that Max was insensitive enough not to recognize that it was very sad, but at the same time those single words were enough to make the idea he had of his life fall apart. All the things he thought he had already managed to understand felt fake and incorrect, and it was so fast it almost made him feel dizzy.

“She’s not his mom.” He declared.

Evander opened his eyes very widely and, next thing he knew, was that, for some reason, he looked nervous. Which, to say the least, was very…unlike Evander. He was usually super…confident, and, in Dad’s words: “He walks with his back too straight for a person who says some dumb shit every time he opens his mouth”.

At that moment, his back wasn’t straight at all, and he kept on wiping the sweat off his palms in the suit.

“…I mean…she’s not…alive anymore. But… that doesn’t mean that…”

“Noooo. I didn’t mean that.” Max cut him off. “She’s not her mom, because Adrian already has a mom.”

He stopped suddenly. Max could almost see his brain working at full speed, trying to process the data he had just received. Then, he blinked, arching his eyebrow.

“Who’s…who’s his mom?” He asked, getting closer to the crystal, and crouching down to be at Max’s height (Evander was almost too tall for his own sake). “Do Simon or Hugh…?”

“No. I mean she’s not his mom because Simon’s his mom.” Max stated, confident enough to move a mountain with his raw determination and his bare hands, which, needless to say, did nothing but make Evander even more confused.

Not that Max couldn’t understand why.

He was a brand new, redeemed person now.

But back then he wasn’t.

“…Simon is what, you said?”

“Adrian’s mom.” Max reaffirmed.

Still bewildered, Evander gawked. Perhaps he understood where that confusion was coming from but, at the same time, maybe he was too disturbed to ask for additional information. Max didn’t know which one of the two would make him feel more embarrassed, especially taking into account the next thing Evander said:

“That is the weirdest shit somebody has ever said to me, and I’ve talked to the Puppeteer an unhealthy amount of times.”

He wasn’t the one who explained to him the way his own family worked. On the contrary, he immediately told his dads about it, and next time the both of them came to talk to him, they tried to make him understand the concept of homosexual couples.

And they failed.

Miserably.

And he was using that term, because after that talk, Max went through life for a while saying that his ethnicity was Gay, because both of his dads were gay. Over and over again, they tried to correct him, but nothing seemed to work, and Max kept on spreading the information that he was gay (something he didn’t know yet) until Aunt Kasumi decided to intervene and, for his birthday, she got him a children’s book called All in Rainbow, which, according to the information in the first page, was actually a translation from a Latin American book written by two lesbians (one of them non-binary) and illustrated by the same woman who had made the Anarchists’ and the Renegades’ graphic novels and was also a Latina.

That book was something similar to a gay encyclopedia. It was narrated by this girl named Phoenix, because it followed her throughout her school and her daily life, where she came across different people and families. After every short story, there was an informative section explaining everything in regards to the new person’s identity, including their flag, the meaning of said flag, and the explanation of certain terms. Max really enjoyed it, and, in fact, he ended up going through it more than once. When he tried to persuade Adrian into reading it too, he admitted he already had, when he was younger, and proceeded to make a comment about how pretty the name “Phoenix” was.

It was only then that Max was able to understand how his own family worked, and how freaking inept he had sounded when he decided it was a great idea to use it as an ethnicity.

That book was, in fact, the cue for all the grown ups in his life to start buying books for him, which he was grateful for, except for the one that he, ironically enough, had gotten from Uncle Evander. Sure, he appreciated that he had spent money on that, but Max didn’t appreciate the fact that the plot was about a dog that was sent away to a school for dogs but made everyone believe he was in jail so he could escape. The drawings were cute, but he just couldn’t find the moral of the story and he didn’t like that.

His dads, from their part, got him a book about two frogs that, at least to Max, acted as if they were a couple; Aunt Tamaya was the one of the short books without drawings.

As for Aunt Kasumi…she usually brought a lot of educational books; every time she overheard him expressing something that was making him confused, she brought him a book about it, including that time she heard him asking Ruby Tucker “So, are you always bleeding?” completely out of context.

Max supposed that it had a lot to do with the fact that Aunt Kasumi was in charge of Child Services, and she spent a lot of time with children, especially because she liked to volunteer in orphanages, having been in one herself when she was a little girl. She usually moved in prodigy orphanages, for she was one to know the poor conditions they sometimes presented.

And…to say the least, she wasn’t a woman of many words. She was very reserved with everything she did. And, besides, it was none of Max’s business. After all, he was just a kid.

But, in this case, it kind of involved him.

Kind of.

For the simple reason that there were two names in the list of people his age Max had talked to. The first one was Neil (who wasn’t even his age. He was just close to that) and the second one…

The second one involved Aunt Kasumi.

Just like people were able to overhear his conversations through the quarantine, Max was able to overhear the conversations they were having on the outside, especially when he was trying to do it on purpose.

Every time he was too bored, in other words.

Some of the things older people said were confusing, but, over time, Max had learned to store that information, so he could comprehend it better in the future. He didn’t know at what level that was healthy, yet he still did it because, literally, he didn’t have anything better to do.

During extremely busy days, the Council chose to spend the night in the Headquarters, just in case, and while they could sleep in the common room, if Pops was too insistent on wanting to be close to the quarantine, they slept in the hallway.

In Max’s hallway.

Of course, Dad would sleep with him inside the quarantine but, in order to make it feel more like a pajama party, they slept close to the edge of the “room” (if it could be called that way), so close to the Councils’ inflatable beds, they could’ve touched them if there hadn’t been a wall in between.

When they were sleeping in that hallway, there wasn’t a patrol looking over Max, because they were the patrol and, every two hours, they changed turns to stay awake. All of them except Dad, who stayed the entire night with Max. The others often got up and started walking around the quarantine according to their ages. That is, Aunt Tamaya went first, followed by Pops, then Aunt Kasumi, and Uncle Evander at the end. However, since it wasn’t like they were too used to having many hours of sleep, Kasumi and Evander usually got up at the same time and patrolled together.

That night, Max was having trouble sleeping. Dad was hugging him, which made him feel very comfortable, but, at the same time, before he wrapped his arms around him, he had been moving way too much, and that had made Max feel uneasy, because a part of him, though he knew it was highly possible it wasn’t true, was feeding the annoying worm at the back of his brain that told him he was the one making Dad uneasy. That Dad was moving and couldn’t sleep because he didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Pops. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Adrian, even. Anyone but Max.

Which, again, he knew things…weren’t like that. But that little, nameless, uninvited worm was always telling him that, over and over again, determined to repeat those awful words until they made so much noise they made him cry.

And even then, when he was already crying, the worm ate deeper into his brain and told him to stop because, in the end, who was he crying for anyway?

Who was he crying for, if nobody was here to see or hear him?

That night, of course, he didn’t cry, for the simple reason that…well, he did have somebody who would hear him cry, and maybe comfort him like Aunt Tamaya comforted Neil when he was crying…

But he didn’t want Dad to do that.

Not today.

Not because he were mad at him, but because he feared that, if he did, then Dad would be the one who would get mad.

Besides, that night he got extremely busy trying to overhear the conversation between Kasumi and Evander who, the moment they got up, started talking as they walked, first at a volume so low their voices could’ve been considered murmurs, but then, with every second, the issue started escalating.

And it wasn’t that they were arguing, it was that they weren’t exactly happy with each other, nor did they seem to manage to get to a mutual agreement.

Max felt like that time he was watching a movie with his earphones on, and instead of paying attention to the plot, he kept trying to identify which sounds were dominant in his left ear, and which ones were dominant in his right ear, because Uncle Evander and Aunt Kasumi were walking around the quarantine, and the echoes of their voices were floating right behind them, making it almost impossible for Max to decipher their messages word by word.

At least, until they stopped in front of him. That is, very close to the inflatable mattresses, too. And with just one eye open, he was able to tell Aunt Kasumi wasn’t amused, with her arms so tight across her chest that way, and with Uncle Evander standing more straight than necessary (because, yes, Dad was right about that...sometimes... because Max had read somewhere that tall people had to be really careful with their posture to avoid spine deformities or have less complications when they were older) waving his –as Aunt Tamaya would’ve called them- Hot Cheeto fingers right in front of her face, in a way so aggressive she sometimes had to lean backwards not to get one of her eyes poked out.

“…and it won’t look good for the organization. It won’t look good, Kasumi. You know why?”

“Yes, Vandy. I know why. I already knew before, yet you took the time to explain it to me another seven times. I mean, thank you, I guess, but—“

“If I kept on explaining it to you, it’s because I didn’t…and I don’t know what’s not clicking.”

“What do you mean with what’s not clicking?” And she tilted her head to the side. “…Are you still talking to me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Kasumi. Especially not in front of me, because I know you.”

“Right. But I still don’t get what you’re referring to. What’s not clicking about what, exactly?”

Evander laughed in a way Max would’ve just…understood if she had decided to punch him in the face so he would stop.

“We’re a big organization, Kasumi. People talk.”

“Of course that people talk. I mean, our citizens support our cause and our government system. In fact, statistically, more than half of the population do, but sometimes there are things that… are for their own good but they will refuse to understand and accept them anyway. And that’s normal. We might be the law, but we can’t control how the masses think, you know?”

“For their own good, you say. Beneficial.”

“Exactly.”

“Beneficial for who, if you’d be so kind?” Evander laughed again. “As far as I understand, we’re talking about one single problem, from a single person. It won’t bring anything beneficial, as you call it, for our organization, or for our system…if anything, it will damage it and make us lose credibility.”

“…Why?”

As a response, he started flapping his arms around, as if he were trying to point at something invisible. Or at something that wasn’t really there.

And this time, Aunt Kasumi didn’t try to pretend she was seeing it, and remained silent until Evander realized he would have to make himself understood.

“Because…” He clenched his fists, sighing loudly, almost like he was certain he was right and Aunt Kasumi wasn’t. “Our policy. Remember that? You know, a thing that actually exists and you helped write?”

She didn’t respond.

“Our policy as Renegades, it’s that we shall keep our people safe, and that includes prodigy and non-prodigy citizens. We shall preserve their lives no matter the cost, and create a safe environment where all can coexist and protect each other. That means that no prodigy individual with questionable reasons is to be allowed to cross that gate and disturb the peace or, worse, put somebody’s life at risk.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, you should be, because we wrote it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Evander, please. There’s no need to curse or—“

“…But you know what that means? It means that we can’t just…go against that policy and expect our citizens, our recruits, even, to still take us seriously.”

“Oh, but I’m following that policy because, as you might remember, we also pledged to assist anyone whose life was at risk, and people who, day by day, have to live under very vulnerable circumstances. It is our job to intervene and take them to a safer place, where their quality of life can improve, isn’t it?”

“It is, but that applies for people who aren’t dangerous to society.”

At that point, Max had both his eyes open, and he was seeing the scene more clearly.

In fact, everything was so clear, that he was able to read the confusion in Aunt Kasumi’s expression, even before she said:

“…This is a kid we’re talking about.”

“She is dangerous.”

“She’s not dangerous, Evander. She's a kid. Sure, her behavior has caused her to go bouncing from orphanage to orphanage like a rubber ball but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be helped, that doesn’t mean we should just turn our backs at her, and that doesn’t mean she’s dangerous.”

“You know damn well her behavior’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I am, because that’s the only thing that should concern us at the moment.”

“No, it’s not?”

“It is. Because she’s a kid…and, honestly, Vandy…” Aunt Kasumi sighed. “… I know we were raised thinking life is war, but… the truth is, people are not born evil. Or dangerous, for that matter. Take your time and think about it, and you can talk to me again once you’ve calmed down, because you must be pretty much aware I don't appreciate this tone. Besides, it’s not like this little argument is going to stop me anyway.” She shrugged.

“…after all, I already talked to Hugh.”

“…And what did he say?”

“It’s not my place to tell you that. Ask him.”

Max never knew whether he had taken that suggestion or not but, knowing Evander, he just assumed he hadn’t. And, to be honest, he never asked Dad about it either. He just stood and watched how everything proceeded to go down and chaos unleashed.

Though, he had to admit, unlike what had happened with other “big” events, this one specific chaos was rather discrete. A kind of well-kept secret.

In fact, the only explicit hint that something would happen in the next few days, was the little disturbance caused by Team Frostbite (it was always Team Frostbite. Max had no idea why everyone was so…willing to put up with their…issues so much, and without hesitation) when it was their turn to patrol around the quarantine and Evander came around, holding his notepad, and muttered something to them.

“Whom?!” Genissa Clark, Frostbite, snapped immediately.

Evander frowned and, judging by the way his moustache moved, he also pouted, before turning at Mack Baxter, Aftershock, to start talking to him instead.

“Do you have any idea of what she’s talking about?” He clicked his tongue. “Like…okay, nevermind…”

When Max looked up, he saw the exact moment when Evander realized he was listening to the conversation, so he lowered his tone once again. Yet, Max was still able to see the million ways in which Genissa Clark's face contorted and, in the end, the first second Evander shut his mouth, she declared:

“We’re not available for that. Perhaps that task should be assigned to Team Sketch or Team Peregrine. They’re always lollygagging around, it’s about time they get some real responsibi—“

“That’s a no, then. Alright. Thanks for your cooperation, Team Frostbite. Or, lack of, more likely. Do better next time, okay?”

If Max wanted to be honest with himself, it hadn’t taken him much time to realize he wasn’t fond of any of the members in Team Frostbite. Or Frostbite herself. In fact, he considered her to be almost insufferable, and, again, he couldn’t quite understand why they were allowed to boss everybody around. To a certain extent, they reminded him of the popular kids (who were also bullies) in every movie he had ever watched. They weren’t nice. Not even likeable.

Maybe Max was just very specific on the type of people he liked.

Or maybe he liked everyone and their mom, except Team Frostbite, because he didn’t know any better than that, while at the same time he knew better than liking Team Frostbite.

But he didn’t know better than liking Margaret White, because…well…

She hadn’t done anything particularly awful for him to have an opinion as strong as Uncle Evander’s about her.

She came on a Friday.

Not that she exclusively came to talk to him.

She, in fact, arrived alongside Aunt Kasumi, who was wearing her civilian clothes –High-waisted jeans and a baby blue shirt, damp with sweat because it was hot outside- and kept leaving her car key on every table that came across her, before coming back to it to grab them.

At first, Max wasn’t able to see Margaret very well, mostly because he was distracted with his online classes, and she was taken straight to Dad’s office, along with Adrian’s entire team. And though Max didn’t see much, he was able to catch a glimpse on how Adrian kept on trying to grab her hand, and she insisted on pulling away.

At some point, he had read about that too.

The Renegades accepted recruits from ages 14 and up, talking about patrolling. However, they had a child protection program, where, basically, they assisted orphan prodigy children with behavioral issues or, though only few people liked to admit it, potential to be a part of the organization when they were older. Adrian didn’t like it and, strangely enough, out of everyone, Evander didn’t like it either. Nevertheless, Evander was one to get more aggressive when it came to child recruitment, which, thankfully, wasn’t common at all.

In fact, those cases were so rare, that they referred to them as “exceptions”. After all, children were not allowed into the Trials. As far as Max knew, they weren’t placed in patrol units. On the contrary, they were given small positions in the organization, and their paychecks were directed to their respective savings account, something that Pops was in charge of. However, they could use that money for their personal needs or something they wanted to buy, as the few children recruits resided in orphanages around Gatlon and went back there after their shift was over. Max supposed that sometimes their caretakers refused to buy them something because it wasn’t good for their health and it must be very satisfying to tell them it was their money (That’s what Adrian always did when Dad refused to buy something for him).

(That, or he went and asked Pops for that same thing).

Usually, they could have cash withdrawals just by presenting their Renegade Recruit ID because, obviously, they didn’t have an official ID yet.

And not only that. The children recruits were assigned a patrol unit with older members to look after them, or help them with anything they needed. Taking into account the conversation he had overheard, he supposed that duty had fallen on Adrian’s team (A theory that was later confirmed to be true by Adrian himself).

They were never left unsupervised, just like Max.

The day Margaret arrived, for a couple of minutes, maybe hours, Max was submerged in his own little world, and in the assignment his last teacher had told him to do. It was just him, his colored pencils, his paper sheets, his notes, his head, his hands, and the miniature planet Earth that his quarantine supposed, against the real world that he had never stepped on.

But every now and then, a little piece of the unknown, mysterious real world came running to his encounter and talked to him, sometimes in the most sudden, unsolicited way.

Sometimes it was Dad opening the door without calling. Sometimes it was Adrian pressing a new drawing against the crystal. Sometimes it was Pops, making a little “Psst” sound to get his attention.

Sometimes it was three little knocks, and the girl that was producing them with her knuckles.

Back then, Margaret’s hair was longer, to the point where she could tie it in a high ponytail, decorated with a blue bow, which combined with his orphanage uniform: A white polo, with the institution’s symbol by the right side of her chest, beneath a cobalt blue skirt with suspenders, long white socks and black scholar shoes.

He saw her and recognized she was real the first time, but Max still gave himself a couple of seconds to grasp the fact that she was really there.

Well, not there-there.

That she was there, as in, through the glass.

And she was calling him, even if she wasn’t saying anything. In fact, she was just there, eating from a chocolate bar with puffed rice. Her free hand was still over the glass.

And she was waiting.

So, he figured he didn’t want to keep her waiting anymore, and leaving his task and his tools behind, Max walked in her direction. And like it always happened, he stopped right before bumping his forehead against the hard, translucent surface.

Margaret took another bite from her chocolate, with an arched eyebrow, but she said nothing. From afar, Max hadn’t been able to really appreciate her features, but now that he was closer, he realized she was taller than him; her small, brown eyes were making her lashes look bigger; her black hair looked thicker and he was able to conclude that her skin tone was more or less like Pops’, maybe a little darker. She had a mark over her cheek, and at first Max thought it was a mole or a birthmark…until, of course, he realized that moles weren’t (or, at least, shouldn’t be) purple, and realized it was a bruise.

He didn’t ask her about it. Adrian had once told him that there were people who might not want to talk about their bruises or open wounds, not because the stories behind them were painful to tell, but because they were too embarrassing and telling embarrassing stories was an inconvenience.

“…well… now that I think about it…” He said right after. “…That’s not it. No. Not really. Sometimes your wounds’ backstories are painful. Or sometimes…you just want to keep them a secret, you know? And secrets are…sort of important.”

He believed every word.

Hence why, instead of saying something too nosy about that bruise, a little slowly at first, Max started lifting his hand up, until he reached the spot where Margaret’s was, and pressed his palm there. When she stared at his palm in confusion, Max clarified:

“Hugh five. You know?" Max giggled a little." As in… the Captain? Hugh? ...No?"

She didn’t laugh. And that was odd because Adrian would’ve.

Margaret wasn’t Adrian, sadly. And, it seemed to be, she hadn’t had an older sibling to tell her that some things just…weren’t adequate as icebreakers to start a conversation. Because, like Adrian had said, there were certain things other people might not want to talk about.

“Are you sick?” She directly asked.

Max was still “pressing” his hand against hers.

Gulping hard, he felt his throat boiling hot, almost as if it were growing blisters.

“No.” He said in a hoarse voice. “Why?”

Not pulling away either, Margaret said:

“The other day, Sister Malinda brought a very tiny baby into the orphanage. They were so small they had to take them to the medical wing.” She took another bite from her chocolate, and kept on speaking with her mouth full. “I sneaked out of my room to see them, and they were inside this little glass box that helped keeping them alive. Sister Tam told me so.”

Max kept quiet for a while. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have a little curiosity about the name, but Margaret solved everything that had to be solved even if he didn’t ask her to.

“Sister Tam was named after Thunderbird. She’s younger than the other nuns.”

He guessed so.

Aunt Tamaya’s real name had been revealed to the general public on the 13th year into the Age of Anarchy, when she reappeared after being away for months thanks to an accident that involved Queen Bee and a cliff or something like that (Max couldn’t quite understand it, and Aunt Tamaya couldn’t remember much about it either. If she did, then she just didn’t desire to talk about it). It wasn’t a fun anecdote or anything like that but, according to his dads, the name Tamaya topped the lists for the most female-assigned names for at least a year, and the same thing happened in the 20th year into the Age of Anarchy...however, by the time she was buried, the world didn’t know Lady Indomitable’s real name, and for an entire month, people used Regina instead of Georgia. When Max asked why, Dad answered that, when attending public events, Lady Indomitable used to wear a pair of shiny golden R-shaped earrings that caused everybody in Gatlon to develop mass hysteria and made themselves believe that those Rs meant Regina, when in reality, according to Lady Indomitable herself, one of them meant “Rawles”, and the other “Renegade”. In fact, Oscar Silva (Smokescreen, one of the members of Adrian’s team) had once said that one of his cousins, who lived in Mexico, had been named Renata Regina (Though nobody knew what the heck that first name was, and Oscar had a really peculiar way to pronounce Regina) because she was born a few days after Lady Indomitable’s decease.

“I knew that.” Max lied.

“Sure, buddy. I bet you did.” Margaret chuckled. And there, Max realized she thought she was too clever.

Which, he didn’t doubt she was. He wasn’t in the position to state that. At least, not yet.

But what he was in the position to state, was that, if she thought herself to be clever, then it was his opportunity to think of himself as clever too. After all, he had been reading his whole life because he didn’t have anything else to do.

If Margaret was clever, then so was he.

“You’re talking about an incubator.” He said.

Margaret looked up out of a sudden (Max hoped she hadn’t gotten dizzy). He could still see the chocolate, that at this point should’ve been mush, stored in the inside of her right cheek.

“Uh?” She asked, struggling to keep her mouth closed.

Max gulped, and tapped the surface with his fingers.

“The thing where they put the little baby. It’s called an incubator. That’s where they put pre-term babies, because they’re not ready to survive outside of their mother’s womb. Sometimes their lungs don’t work on their own, sometimes their hearts are too fast or too slow…”

“You look too old to be a baby.” She observed. “Are your powers something related to that? Like, are you a baby who doesn’t look like a baby?”

For a second, Max thought about quoting Evander that time he had boldly stated that Simon was Adrian’s mom, but he didn’t because he wasn’t in the mood to curse.

“…No. First, this is not an incubator. And second, I’m a kid.” He answered. “I’m not a baby.”

“Then why are you here?”

The short answer was that, honestly, that was none of her business. And the even shorter answer, was:

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. And secrets are sort of important.”

“A secret.” She repeated, as if tasting the word. “…You don’t look like you want to be here. Are you allowed to come out?”

The short answer was still that it was none of her business. But, if he wanted to be honest, for some reason, he didn’t want to give that answer. Because, to be fair, she would find out on her own sooner or later. Because, yes, people talked, and while his dads were kind of secretive about him, everyone in the headquarters knew him. Her being clueless was just a temporary event that would vanish into thin air in a blink.

And, for some reason, he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Maybe tell her something that wasn’t real. Maybe… tell her something that wasn’t necessarily true but that he wanted it to be. Maybe something that was more interesting than what he was, in reality; maybe something that would make the worm in his brain go away for two weeks.

"I can't get out." He finally decided. "Because this glass is infrangible."

Then, he knocked on it three times.

"See?"

Margaret tilted her hair to the side, looking like a cat.

"What does that word mean?"

And dumb as it sounded, Max felt a twinge in his stomach along with a violent wave of pride. Because, even if it was hard for him to admit it, he was hoping she would ask that.

He wanted her to ask that.

"It means you can't break it."

Margaret's eyes seemed bigger. But just as she was separating her lips to speak, somebody behind her cleared their throat.

That's when Max spotted Aunt Kasumi leaned against a wall with her arms crossed. When Margaret looked over her shoulder, she found her there too. But while Max waved at her, Margaret remained inexpressive.

"You're very far from the restroom, Maggie." Kasumi said, in a serious tone. Afterwards, she massaged her temples.

"Please, darling. Just… help me here, okay? We have to go back to the office."

And she didn't seem mad, but rather disappointed.

When it came to Aunt Kasumi, that was enough. Max knew that, and Margaret knew that too. That's why they both removed their hands from the glass, and Margaret started going away.

However, before she was too far, Max asked:

"Why are you here?"

And Margaret turned around, smiling.

"If you're not telling me, I'm not telling you." She sentenced. Then, she proceeded to imitate his voice as she said:

"It's a secret."

And for a while, obviously, it remained that way. A secret. But it wasn't long before they both knew everything they needed to know.

Margaret was integrated into the janitorial team, but, for a while, people talked about her and her powers, and Max couldn’t help but remember what Dad had told him in the bathtub, and the conversation between Evander and Kasumi.

Yet, more than scared, Max felt… something he didn't know what it was. In fact, he wasn't scared of her. More likely, a part of him felt that he knew what it was like to be her, because maybe they weren't that different after all.

People were scared of them both.

But he wasn't scared of her. No, not really.

He hoped she wasn’t scared of him either.

Maybe they could've been very good friends, even through the infrangible glass that kept him from getting pointed at, frowned upon or killed.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #Dawnie writes #renegades ship week #margaret white #magpie #max everthart-westwood #the bandit

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