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quaranmine · 3 years

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The Babysitting Game

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?

Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog

Words: 2862

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"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.

"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.

"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.

“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.

Vworp!

The egg disappeared into thin air.

Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…

Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.

Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.

"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"

"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.

"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”

"I see!" said Scar.

"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”

"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."

Grian glared. "I am."

"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"

Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.

"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"

"No, no, I'm not!"

"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"

"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."

The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"

"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"

"I could help!" Scar said.

"You were just playing with it!"

"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"

Grian rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.

“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”

“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.

“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.

“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”

“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.

“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”

“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”

“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.

“Show him the egg!” Scar said.

“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.

“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”

Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”

“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”

Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?

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“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .

“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.

“Like a swaddle!”

“Yes, I see that.”

Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.

“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”

“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.

“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”

“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”

“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.

“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.

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Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.

Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.

But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?

. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.

Oh God, what did I get myself into?

“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”

“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”

“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”

Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”

The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.

All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.

“I know that but . . .”

“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.

“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.

His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.

“You think it’d be okay?”

“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”

Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.

But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?

An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”

She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”

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Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.

If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.

“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”

The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.

RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.

RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.

RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.

RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.

Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.

Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.

Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!

“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.

Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”

He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?

I think I already do, he thought.

He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #quara fanfic

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mermaidxatxheart · 3 years

Text

Better Together Chapter 2

Pairing: Poe x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of lackluster sex, paranoia, Poe being adorable. Probably swearing.

A/N: my works are not to be reposted on this site or any other site without my knowledge and permission. Reblogs are, of course, welcome. If you'd like to be added to my tag lists, please send me an ask and let me know which tag list you'd like to be added to.

Series Master List

Chapter One

Chapter Two

You slowly blink your eyes open in the darkness of the room. Bryce’s big arm is snaked tightly around you, self satisfied snores reverberate softly in your ear. Your entire lower half aches as you stretch and try to sit up. Bryce holds you tighter, pressing his chest into your bare back. His hand snakes up between your breasts as he clings to you.

Carefully, slowly, you roll him over, easing his hand off your skin. You place it back on his chest and slide off the bed, gathering up your clothes. You quickly get dressed and head for the hangar to meet Poe.

You’re feeling off this morning. You wish the commissary is open for some caf, you wish you had been able to sleep in; you wish Bryce had… well. Nothing you can do about that now.

Your go-bag previously stored in the ship, you head there now, trying not to wince with every step.

“Hey, partner.” Poe greets, smiling wide. His smile falters when he sees your empty hands. “You didn’t bring me a caf?”

You groan, walking towards the on-ramp. “I didn’t even bring me a caf. Don’t start.” You mutter.

“Well, lucky for you, I have a friend in the commissary staff.” He says, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and stopping you in the entryway.

“If you have something to say, just say it.” You complain, closing your eyes. He’s way too happy this morning, being awake before the birds are.

“Boy, you’re a grump this morning.” He teases, covering your eyes with one of his big warm soft hands.

“Poe.” You whine.

“Hold out your hand, gorgeous.” He says ever so softly in your ear, his breath on the outer shell making you shiver, making you wish last night had been more satisfying.

Shakily, you hold out your hand, palm up. He leans in close around you, broad chest pressing into your arm and, Maker, he’s so warm. He sets something circular and heavy in your palm and waits.

“Open those pretty eyes.” He prompts. You do and there’s a big cup of coffee balancing perfectly in your hand.

You smile slightly to yourself, grateful to your friend, and you try to shake yourself out of this slump. “Thanks, Dameron.” You step further into the ship, changing your grasp on the cup. “How’s your head?” You ask.

“Just fine. I didn’t end up drinking last night.” He studies you as you head for your bunk. “Okay, what’s the matter with you?” He asks, following after you.

“Nothing. Just tired.” You dig your bag out and rifle through for your favorite sweatshirt. Space is cold and you naturally have a lower body temperature.

“Didn’t you see your loverboy last night? Shouldn’t you be in a better mood?” He teases and you feel your shoulders tense against your will.

“I’m fine, Poe.” You toss over your shoulder, pulling the thick fabric on.

“Oh, did Mr. Prick not live up to the hype?” He continues as you head for the cockpit.

You want to tell him to let it go, that it’s none of his business if you didn’t… but there’s no way to say anything without giving everything away.

“That’s exactly it.” He surmises easily and you do your best to hide your quickly flushing face. “Yikes. If only there was someone who warned you that he wouldn’t be worth your time.” Poe ponders and you roll your eyes.

“If you’re done poking fun at my anticlimactic sex life, maybe we could get going? It’s gonna be a long week together.” You prompt, sliding automatically into the co-pilot’s seat and leaving the pilot’s seat open for Poe.

“I have so many questions.” He sighs.

“If you value keeping your tongue in your mouth, you won’t ask them.” You warn and he groans. “We need to do flight checks.” You half rise out of your seat before he catches your arm.

“Nya already did them.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“Right. Like I’m trusting my life to her.” You scoff and head out of the little room to check on everything yourself.

Nya is probably the worst person on this Resistance base. Maybe even in all the galaxies. She’s rude, condescending, petty, moralless, and you have a sneaking suspicion she’s not really here for the cause. She hates you, and you hate her. No way in all seven hells are you trusting your life in her hands.

You shimmy down the engine hatch, checking all the gauges, valves, pumps, and anything else that she might have tampered with. You’re excruciatingly thorough. Just as you’re about to finish, Poe’s exasperated sigh reaches you.

“Done yet?” He calls and you roll your eyes, taking just a little longer to properly annoy him. “Y/N, do you trust me?” He asks and you sigh.

“Probably against my better judgment.” You admit.

“I was with Nya when she did them. My name is on the list.” He says and you head back over to the opening and extend your hand.

“You promise you didn’t let her ample… personality… distract you?” You ask as he easily hauls you back up to him.

“Promise.” He holds out his index finger and you press yours to it.

“Okay. I feel better.” You nod and he chuckles, draping a muscular arm around your shoulders.

“Good, now let’s get going. Oh, and if you need to… take care of business,” he pauses to wiggle his eyebrows at you, “I won’t judge.”

You smack him in the chest, hard. “Fuck off, Dameron.” You slide back into your seat and start the engaging sequences. He laughs quietly, rubbing his chest where you hit him.

***

“Landing gear.” You say you assume pointlessly. Poe Dameron doesn’t need you to remind him to extend the landing gear, and yet here you are.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at you, he hasn’t even blinked for the last five minutes.

“Poe. Landing gear.” You repeat, a little louder. Still nothing. You grumble and start to lift out of your seat to reach across him and flip it. Naturally, that’s when he starts to move.

“I’ve got it.” He huffs, lifting your arm out of his face and toggling the switch.

“Clearly.” You roll your eyes. “Lost you there for a second.” You hint and he glances at you, his skilled hands flying over the console now without thought.

“Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess.” He rolls his head, easing some tension out of his neck.

“About being anywhere else?” You tease.

“Absolutely. I can’t stand being here with you. Don’t know how you stand being around yourself.” He huffs, glancing out the window, trying to ease the ship down without knocking into too many branches.

“Unlike you, Dameron. I don’t have a choice.” You reply.

The unanswered question of his daydream is dropped as he lowers the ramp and stands up. “Come on, partner.” He says, grabbing his bag and draping it across his chest.

You follow, grabbing your holopad, and double-checking for the third time that you have everything you need. Following Poe, you slip easily into work mode. He closes the ramp after you and waits while you pull up your coordinates on the planet.

It’s densely covered in trees as tall as the clouds, so big around the base that fifteen men could stand holding arms outstretched and probably not be all the way around. Thick foliage covers the ground, threatening to trip you even if you’re careful of where you step. Bright flowers are scattered in the green light cast down from above. Massive branches are over your head, big and sturdy enough for both you and Poe to lie down on. Gnarled, twisting roots rise up from the ground, sprawling across the floor. Roots from one tree can end up ten or fifteen feet away, and they seem to follow you, creaking and creeping up behind you.

The air is muggy, damp with condensation from the water being evaporated under the tree canopy. After just a couple minutes, you feel like you’re drinking the air rather than breathing it.

Focusing, you pull up the map construction on your holopad and hold it up, scanning the area surrounding your ship. You glance at Poe, already seeing little droplets of sweat gathering at the edges of his dark curls. He’s looking around, head on a swivel, hands gripping his rifle, as you work.

“Alright. Pick a direction.” You nod, letting him know you’re ready to begin.

“Left.” He says, stepping in front of you to cross your path.

“Hey, I know it doesn’t need saying again, but we know nothing about this place. Try not to touch too much, and for Maker’s sake, don’t lick anything.” You roll your eyes and that charmingly cheeky grin is back.

“I make no promises, gorgeous. You know I love to lick things.” He smirks and you just wanna smack him again. You could have done without the innuendo.

You follow him to the left, which is actually east, scanning and recording. Every so often, you stop to pick a flower for a sample. It goes into a sealable bag to examine back at the base. If you’re going to live here, you need to know as much about the local plant life, what’s poisonous, what’s okay to eat or smell.

You wipe your hand across your forehead, already feeling your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your shoulders. Poe doesn’t complain, so you don’t, either.

A creaking behind you makes you halt and half turn. It’s been about an hour since you left the safety of your ship, and so far, only giant bugs to report.

“What is it?” He asks, turning to look at you.

“I just thought I heard something.” You shake your head, brushing off your own paranoia. “Probably just one of the branches settling.”

“They’re massive, aren’t they?” He peers up at them. “Try not to get crushed by one.” He jokes, but it’s half-hearted. The good mood from takeoff is quickly wearing off.

He turns back around to keep moving forward, but you catch him just in time. “Poe!” You wrap your hand around the front of his shoulder, pulling him back against your chest before he can walk right into a butterfly the size of an eagle.

“Thanks.” He lets out a breath, squeezing your fingers reassuringly.

“Ever hear the story of how Makimbo walked into the flight path of a moth and it got stuck in his ear for three days until the medics could get it out?” You start and Poe stops again, slowly turning to face you, beautiful brown eyes wide in disbelief.

“You’re shitting me.” He says finally and you laugh, feeling better now that you’ve shaken off some of the silence.

“Nope. Walked right out the door from the dorms as a moth was flying to the light and flew right into his ear canal. Swears to this day he can still hear flapping in there.”

“Unbelievable. Only Mak could do something like that.” He shakes his head, turning back around.

“Can we take a break? I think we should have some water.” You say, your legs throbbing. They were already sore from your time with Bryce, but hiking through this impossible forest is killing you.

“Yeah, of course.” He says, coming back up to join you. “Feeling okay?” He asks, watching your eyes as you ease down onto one of those gnarled roots. It’s almost at chair height.

“Yeah. I probably should have just gone out with you to the bar.” You sigh, unscrewing your canteen.

“Probably would have had a better time.” He agrees, and you’re nodding before you can even think to stop yourself.

“At least my legs wouldn’t hurt this much.” You admit and he groans.

“Please tell me he’s not a ‘lay back and let you do all the work’ type.” He rubs his face with a handkerchief.

“There’s nothing wrong with a girl being on top.” You huff.

“No, yeah, of course. One of my favorite positions.” He holds out his hand to stop you. “But not for the whole time. And especially not if she doesn’t finish.” He says vehemently. “Always knew he was a selfish prick.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Something isn’t right. “Poe?” You start quietly. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Sorry, I know you don’t like when I complain about him.” He waves and you’re trying so hard not to panic. You feel eyes on you, dangerous and intentional.

“Poe.” You say with a little more urgency. He finally looks at you, confused. “There’s something behind me. I can feel it.” You say, barely moving your mouth.

His eyes scan diligently over your shoulders. They search every inch of the exposed woods behind you until he shakes his head. “There’s nothing, sweetheart. Just leaves.” He says, sounding very sure. “Come sit by me.” He says, scooting over and patting the spot next to him.

You quickly cross to him and he wraps his arm around you, despite the uncomfortable heat. “I feel stupid, but I swear I felt something watching me.” You sigh, leaning against him.

“Maybe an animal.” He says, not dismissing your feelings at all. You’re grateful that he doesn’t tell you it’s nothing, but offers a possible solution. “If the bugs here are giant, can you imagine the predators?” He shudders, but you tilt your head.

“Actually, if the bugs are so big, there shouldn’t be any predators.” You frown, your anxious stomach settling a little bit. “Because size is equivalent to speed, the bigger they are, the slower they are. So, if the bugs can’t outrun the predator, they die off.” You press your lips together, feeling like you’re rambling.

He turns to look at you, appreciation in his eyes. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?” He says and you grin.

“I do. It’s about time that someone else sees it.” You reply and he laughs.

“Alright, noodle legs. You ready to keep going? We should try to find somewhere to camp soon. The days on this planet aren’t exceptionally long.” He says, and you nod, putting your water away.

“You’re right, let’s get going.” You stand up, picking up your holopad once more. Poe shoulders his rifle, head turning every which way as he leads you through the trees.

“Tell you what.” He starts after an immeasurable amount of silence.

“What’s that?” You croak, your voice sticking in your throat after not being used for a while.

“If we do settle this planet, we’re gonna need some serious air conditioning. My curls are not holding up in this heat.” He says, purposely messing up his dripping locks.

You laugh, flinching away from the flying moisture. “Agreed. But if there are no predators, as we’ve theorized, it could be pretty perfect.”

He turns to glance back at you, his forehead wrinkling in concern. “How are you feeling?” He asks again.

“I’m fine, why?”

He takes you by the arms, his big hands burning into your skin as he guides you to sit down. “You’re really flushed.” He comments, holding his bare wrist to your forehead. “And very warm.”

“It’s a million degrees out here. Of course, I’m warm, Poe.” You look up at him, appreciating his concern.

“Am I flushed?” He frowns.

“Who can tell? You’re perfectly tan all year round. How do you do that, by the way?”

He cups your face gently and tilts it up to him to see better. “I do this thing called going outside.” He says, gently pulling your lower eyelids down.

“See anything?” You ask, only half teasing.

“Nope, no soul in there.” He replies, letting go of you all together and suddenly you miss his hands on your face. They were warm and comforting and you felt safe.

This forest is messing with your head.

Another creak behind you has you up and moving around Poe. He catches your arm, making you slow down.

“Sweetheart, we should eat. It’s been all day. I didn’t realize how much time was passing.” He says.

You shift from foot to foot nervously, looking behind him. Your eyes scan the foliage, looking for any sign of movement. You don’t want to stop, too wound up to eat, but you know he’s right.

“I’ll keep you safe.” He promises. You acquiesce and let him guide you down to the ground and back against the base of a tree.

“I don’t know why I’m being such a weirdo.” You sigh, digging into your pack for your rations.

“Maybe you’re sensing something I’m not.” He shrugs, sitting across from you. From down here the ferns and other ground plants tower over you, creating its own little world. “Maybe it’s the idea of being somewhere new, unfamiliar. Maybe it’s the thought of being the only two people on an entire planet, so certain noises you would hear from other people, you shouldn’t be hearing. There are a million reasons. But don’t brush them off. You have a good gut instinct, Y/N. Use it. It might save us later.” He reaches over and squeezes your knee soothingly.

“Thanks.” You say, feeling a little better. You eat slowly, looking around, but mostly watching Poe. His dark hair is disheveled, curling into his heavy-lidded eyes. You’re grateful to Leia for pairing you with him. She could have picked anyone, and she picked the one person you get along with best. It’s easy to get along with Poe Dameron. Easy as breathing. Even when he’s being difficult, pushing people away after everything he’s seen, he has never once tried to push you away.

“You’re staring at me.” He comments and you drop your gaze instantly.

“Sorry.” You mutter, rubbing your forehead. “Just thinking.”

“About what I look like naked? Don’t feel bad, everyone on base has wondered.” He grins and you laugh.

“Sure. We’ll go with that.” You nod, pushing the rest of your food back into your bag. Your stomach is too tense to really eat anything.

He knocks his knee against yours. “Tell me.” He prompts.

“Just thinking about how we’re friends.” You shrug and he waits patiently for you to continue. “You… you don’t always… make things easy for other people. You argue with Mak, or Hana, or Setti. You sometimes seem to enjoy pushing them away because you do it so often.” You stumble over your words, not wanting to really screw things up. “But you’ve never done that to me.” You avoid his gaze for as long as you can stand it before finally looking up at him.

He’s smiling. “You’re funny.” He says eventually. “I did try doing that to you. At the very beginning. And sometimes it’s easier to have people be mad at me; to take all of it in and feel that instead of… other less pleasant things. And yeah, they get pissed at me, call me a jerk, or whatever name they like. They storm off and hate me for a while. And it feels good.” He nods, clearing his throat and looking around, away from you. “But not you. Never you. I’d pick a fight with you and you would stand your ground, fight me back until I was the one storming off. Then you’d show up at my dorm, or in the woods, or wherever I happened to be hiding, give me a cup of hot chocolate. You absolutely floored me that first time, telling me I could fight you all day long and you’d be there every time, not letting me lose myself.” He inhales sharply, disguising a sniffle. “I think you knew before I did. You just see through me, constantly.”

You're quiet for a long time, thinking over his words. He never says it out loud, never admits that he could use help. Never gives his nightmare a name. But you feel it, weighing on his soul; and yours. “Poe.” You start and he looks up at you expectantly. “I only said those things because you had my favorite book in your bag and I wanted it back.” You say quietly and he laughs loudly, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his lap, hugging you tight.

“Can’t push you away, no matter how hard I tried. You’re too stubborn.” He sighs, rocking you from side to side as you let your forehead rest in the crook of his neck. “Sometimes, I wonder if the bullshit I say will do it. Like the sex talk, or the time I told you I masturbate five times a day just to see what you’d say.” He chuckles, his breath skittering down the back of your neck. “You didn’t miss a beat, just said ‘I believe you. You look like the type’ and moved on.” He grins.

“I just thought you were a really open person.” You admit, pushing back from his chest, seeing his eyes shine with laughter. “We should keep going, you weirdo. There are some cliffs up ahead, I think. We can probably find a cave to sleep in for the night.”

“Agreed.” He pushes you to your feet, and you pull him up right after you. His hand lingers in yours for a long second before he takes it back to adjust his rifle position.

Chapter Three

Everything Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @psyched2b @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @elliee1497 @ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @scarlettwitcher @thirstybitchqueen @stuckonjbbarnes @barnesandco @geeksareunique @nicoleplacee @lexshead @gambitsqueen @lokisironthrone @imanuglywombat @also-fangirlinsweden @ravenesque @murdermornings @tinymalscoffee @countryrockmama

Star Wars Tag List:

@shinycollectivesuit @bookishofalder

#star wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #romance #angst #mermaidxatxheart-writes #mermaidxatxheart #reader insert #y/n

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mostlydysfunction · 3 years

Text

From The Stars, Part 8

Summary: Kira moved out of town for isolation and peace and quiet. But that quickly gets turned on its head when a spaceship crash lands not far from her house and a strange creature decides she's its new queen. Luck had never been on Kira's side, but things are going to get a lot worse for her as she's forced into this new role and everything her new alien subject thinks it entails.

Warnings: Bodily fluids, hatching eggs, post-labor, talk of birth and mothering, some hinted at violence at the end.

Authors Note: So this has been up on my Ao3 for ages, I’ve just been too lazy to post it here. For this story specifically, I suggest following on Ao3 cause it’s updated there faster than it is here. There’s a link on my masterlist. Also, if anyone wants to know what I modeled the babies after, I modeled them after the neomorph concept art that Colin Shulver did for Alien: Covenant. A close idea can be found here.

MASTERLIST

Kira fades in and out for a while. She vaguely recognizes something moving her, the skin of her legs sticking together as she’s carried closer to her eggs. She still has the eighth in her arms, cradling it protectively. She registers their warmth, a solid mass against her back, hissing in her ear. She remembers pain, weakness. Her head heavy, eyes not staying open as she fades in and out.

She’s sure she’s dying. That has to be it. She had lost too much blood and now she was dying. The eggs had caused her to hemorrhage, and she was bleeding out on the floor of her barn. She waits for the bright light, the pearly gates, or even the lake of fire considering the past couple months, but none of that comes. She’s stuck in an inky darkness, her body slowly knitting itself back together again without her knowledge.

It’s light outside when Kira wakes.

She can see the light of the sun in the space near the window where the black substance hadn’t covered it completely. She feels exhausted, her body aching. She’s sticky, covered in something. Something in her arms is moving, shifting around. There’s something pressed against her back, solid and tough. She tries to move, her skin pulling as she attempts to stretch her legs. Something hisses in her ear, a clawed hand pressing against the floor in front of her. Things slowly begin to come back to her. She’d given birth to the eggs, and she had been sure she was dying. But here she was, however long after, alive and breathing.

Something nudges against the side of her head, making her groan at the movement. She slowly moves her upper body, her limbs unsticking from her torso. She’s still naked, but her skin is covered in some sort of almost resin-like substance. It wasn’t all that different from what was covering the inside of the barn. The eighth egg was still in her arms, still smaller than the others. Something inside of it was moving though, she could feel it bumping against the sides.

Kira slowly presses her body up and into a sitting position. The other seven eggs are arranged close to her, moving slightly as well as her babies move around inside. She watches as one of them cracks, lines spidering through the thick outer shell. She sits up on her knees, watching the shell crack and move, something pushing at it from the inside. Her alien leans over her, watching his spawn work its way out of its egg.

It finally makes its way out with a cry, shrill and high. Kira looks at the creature, something inside her stirring as she looks at it. It’s small, no longer than her forearm. It’s pale, almost white. Its head is oblong like its father, but shorter, ending at a sharp point instead of the rounded curve. It stares up at her with big black eyes, its face almost human like. Its mouth opens wider than any human jaw could, revealing sharp, razor-like teeth. It has a small nose in between its wide eyes and mouth, its body built more like its father’s, lean and delicate looking but with a hard exoskeleton. A tail whips behind it, smooth unlike its father’s.

Kira reaches out a hand, a five-fingered clawed hand reaching out towards her. The other eggs are cracking, the feeling swelling in Kira’s chest as she touches her baby’s hand with a finger.

This was her child.

These were her children.

Her babies.

She watches with her alien as the others claw their way out of their eggs, looking very similar to their oldest sibling, near replicas. The feeling inside Kira builds as she looks at each one, touching each one of them. They’re sticky from the inside of their eggs, but their skin is strangely smooth, almost like human skin.

The eighth egg is the last to crack, her last child struggling to fight its way out. She reaches forward to help it, but a clawed hand wraps around her arm, yanking it back. She’s held against her alien’s chest, forced to watch her child struggle to leave its egg. She feels her heart clench in her chest, wanting desperately to help it, but she can’t.

Finally, it makes its way through, this one smaller than the others, its limbs slightly too long compared to its body, not quite as evenly proportioned as its siblings. The runt of the litter. But despite this, she loves it. It lets out a weak cry, trying to get its legs under it properly. Her alien’s head brushes her shoulder as he watches, still holding her back.

Eventually her smallest baby gets its feet under it, unsteady slightly, but standing. Kira’s alien releases her, crawling over to their babies. They let out high-pitched cries, reaching towards his face as he leans down towards them. Kira watches, emotions bubbling in her chest as she watches her babies and their father. Her alien hisses at them quietly, their hands touching his face, tails whipping back and forth as they get acquainted with him.

After a few moments they all turn to look at her, Kira’s eyes going wide as they all rush at her, clambering over each other to get into her lap. She’s helpless as the eight tiny bodies climb onto her, gripping at her skin with clawed fingers. She quickly numbs herself to the pain, nothing more than insect bites as she holds her babies in her arms. She doesn’t care that she’s still naked and covered in dried fluids and sticky resin. These were her babies. Her children.

Nothing was going to stop her from holding them.

***********

Kira sits in the bottom of the shower, letting hot water run over her. She’s tired, her body still aching from forcing out eight large eggs. She can’t fathom how she’d managed to not only carry eight eggs seemingly to term and birth them when humans weren’t supposed to be able to do that. The amount of blood she had lost had to be more than a human could withstand, but yet, here she was, scrubbing said blood from her thighs.

When she had pictured becoming a mother before this wasn’t what she had pictured. Birthing alien-spawn in her barn and then feeding them ground beef within hours of their hatching wasn’t exactly what she had been prepared for. But she can’t bring herself to complain. She can’t bring herself to find it strange. Those were her alien-spawn. They carried some of her DNA, since they weren’t exact replicas of their father. Somehow they had developed partly from her and partly from him to become what they hatched as.

It didn’t matter to her what they were, though. She loved them. She would do anything for them. Anything.

There’s a sharp pain in her head before she gets the feeling of being hungry. No, it’s not her that’s hungry, she realizes. It’s her babies.

She climbs out of the shower, wrapping herself in a robe. She tries not to stare too long in the mirror. She’s pale and there are bags under her eyes. She looks like she’s been through hell. Like she’d been deathly ill. It’s good. She can use that to firm up her story.

She makes her way down to the kitchen, her own stomach growling. She looks through the fridge, the milk and raw meat she had subsisted on for a month suddenly unappetizing. She’d have to do some shopping, it appeared.

After foraging through the stacks of meat, she finds some bread, deciding on some toast. Just as she’s pulling out the jelly there’s a knock on her door. She looks down, realizing she’s still in her robe, but she can’t bring herself to care. The feeling in her mind is still thrumming, crying out for food. She pushes it aside as she goes to the door, seeing two familiar agents standing on her doorstep.

“Ms. Matthews.” One of them says. She can’t for the life of her bring up their names in her memory.

“Are you alright? You look...” The other doesn’t finish his sentence, his unspoken words implying enough.

“I’ve been sick.” Kira says, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The first agent says. “We hate to bother you, but we just wanted to check on you and see if anything had happened since we last spoke.”

Kira tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know, anything strange? Unexplainable?”

Kira shakes her head. “No, not that I can think of.”

“Your neighbors called to report some strange sounds that were coming from this property a few days ago. The local police sent an officer to investigate, but he never returned. His car is parked half a mile down the road. He knocked, but there was no answer.”

She nods. “I was probably asleep. I’ve been taking some heavy duty medicines. Knocks me out real good.”

The second agent nods, and she can tell he doesn’t quite believe her. “Right. Well, we have a warrant to search the house, if you don’t mind.”

Kira shrugs, taking a step back, letting them in. “Please, go right ahead.”

Kira stands in the living room while the agents look through her house. All the while the cries of hunger are getting more and more insistent, making her wince slightly. She wants to help them, but she doesn’t know how. But then it hits her.

“The house is empty.” The first agent says, coming back to the living room.

The second agent is standing by the back door, looking out at the yard. “The barn looks different.”

Kira steps into the dining room. “Yes, I was doing some renovations before I got sick. You’re more than welcome to go have a look if you want.”

Like she said. She would do anything.

Part 9

#xenomorph #alien #xenomorph x oc #xenomorph x human #from the stars

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matthewbeilschmidts · 3 years

Text

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

And so their friendship starts.

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

#hetalia #prucan #prucanweek #APH Prussia #APH Canada #.txt post #I forgot all my writing tags #will fix later HAHA

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hesgunnalovethis · 4 years

Text

Greenhouse Planet

Prompt : ( ty @write-it-motherfuckers )

“How the hell are you still alive?”

“Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are”

Leonard x Reader

Word count: 2755

TW: OC death, blood mention, medbay

A/N: you ever make up your own planet and species? me too apparently.

Greenhouse Planet:

“Jim stand still will you.” You watched as Leonard McCoy struggled through the small gathering in the transporter room completing his pre-mission checks. Usually he liked to be more prepared but with Jim Kirk - the worst patient in the fleet - leading the Enterprise, he had to make exceptions.

“Bones, please, I had a check-up last month.” Kirk said punching co-ordinates into the control desk, much to Scotty’s dismay.

“You had 6 broken bones that month, Jim.”

“Yeh and I’m sure they’ve healed.”

You watched Lee’s face curl looking at the results of the little readings he’d gathered from Jim before admitting defeat and sliding his tricorder back into his pocket.

You followed the others onto the transporter platform ready to face whatever was waiting planetside when you felt familiar hands wrap round your waist. Instinctively, you let yourself relax into the curves of your partner. Every inch of you belonged together, bodies fitting seamlessly.

“You don’t have to come, Y/N” Leonard rumbled softly into your ear, sending a shiver down your back.

You wrapped your hand around his, turning to look into his incomparable blue eyes and throwing a playful look over his lips “Good to know you still worry about me even after all these years.”

“Worry? Me? Never.” Leonard scoffed, “It’s just, part of me just thinks you’re too pretty to be doing this kind of dirty work”

“Maybe you can make it up to me later?” You said running your hand up his arm to rest on his bicep. An intimate moment positively overlooked by the rush of the room.

“You know I hate talking about ‘later’ before this kind of thing.” Leonard sighed more to himself than to you.

You had often spoken about the increasing dangers on recent fieldwork.

“Ah, my Southern pessimist.” You said giving Leonard’s arm a comforting tap.

“One of these days I’m going to be right.” The infamous grumpy doctor persona had returned.

“You’ll never be right, Leonard. Not while I’m around.” You smirked and joined the others settling on the transporter platform.

Leonard followed. You could feel his eyes burning into you while Jim finished conferring with Scotty at the panel. His gaze didn’t budge.

“Okay, Scotty” Jim said taking his place at the front of the crew “Standby.”

***

Once your body had reconfigured itself you were in a jungle like landscape. Surrounded by tall plants you watched as your crewmates looked around equally confused, some picking unidentified green out of their hair and clothes.

Jim addressed the group. “This planet belongs to Bokencams. Bokencams are known for their botany but also for their lack of humanity. That means stay on task, stay out of sight. Starfleet had cultivated a healing plant which was promptly stolen. It’s our job to get it back. I’ll go in to reason with them while Andrews, Clarke and Y/L/N look for a point of entry. These creatures aren’t known for their intellect which means the plant should be easy to locate once inside. Got it?”

Mumbles of assurance rippled through the group.

“Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura you’ll be here listening in for language and translation. The rest of you cover ground and cover each other. Eyes everywhere and comm anything unusual in.”

Everyone began to prepare for their own tasks: Jim shirt off and wiring himself, the red shirts activating phasers and Bones looking high strung. He pulled Jim aside, “Don’t you think I should be closer in on this action, Jim? I don’t recall anyone else having years of medical training to hand?”

“I need your brains here, Bones.” Jim said clapping his back pointing Leonard towards his portable control panel.

“Come on you three” Jim said pulling his top back over his head, “The sooner we get out of here the better. I hate greens.”

You, Jim and the 2 others began towards the seemingly empty green dome which sat perfectly isolated amongst the greenhouse planet. Getting closer Jim signalled for you all to split off, Clarke taking east, you taking west, Andrews taking south and Jim taking north towards the front door.

The tall plants made it easy to slip into your assigned station unseen and to your surprise the entire building seemed unguarded.

You could see Jim beginning his strut towards the front door of the dome with no attempt to conceal himself. He wanted the attention on him. That was how his plans often went. Very Aries of him.

After all three of you had confirmed your position Jim stepped into the building without any trouble.

The comms were silent.

Getting to work you ran your eyes over the immense building. It stretched for miles each way. You began looking for any entrance. The distinct lack of windows was the first thing to jump out at you. The second was the space between the dome and the moss covered ground giving the building the appearance it was floating.

You waited what seemed like hours with the anticipation but was likely a plethora of minutes before emerging from your cover bolting towards the underneath of the dome.

Drowned in darkness on your hands and knees you dragged your hands across the underneath of the building. The material was nothing like you had felt before. Somewhere between glass and beads.

You crawled through the damp ground for miles every inch of the underneath feeling eerily the same. You were beginning to lose hope when you felt a crack. You froze and ran your hand back over the beaded glass. Definitely a space. You crawled again searching for the same space parallel which could suggest a door.

“Y/L/N come in.” rang from your comm. You ignored it. “McCoy to Y/L/N come in.”

Your hand ran over another definite space. Rolling into the centre of the somewhat door you lifted your feet and hands to the beaded glass and began to push. With very little effort the hatch lifted enough for you to climb inside.

You appeared to be in a lab. Green seemed to cover the entirety of the inside as well. You grabbed your comm, and rang to all ground comms “Y/L/N, stationed West, inside dome. Repeat. This is Y/L/N, stationed West, inside dome. Over.” Leonard’s voice came immediately “I love you. Be careful.” You switched off your comm.

***

Bones knew you’d be the first in. You were good at your job. He just didn’t let himself admit it until he heard the message through the comm. Uhura reached out to squeeze his hand but Leonard pulled away. He would detach and get on with the job. Or try. They listened into Jim’s meeting with the Bokencams,

“You have nothing to collect. It’s property of this planet. Here it can be stored at its optimum.”

“And how have you been storing it exactly?”

Jim was stalling. Giving as much time as possible to those working around the dome. And it could’ve worked.

***

The dome was silent. You couldn’t tell if it was empty or sound proof. You weaved in and out of the green rows scrutinising every plant. One seemed to have stories written on the stems, another with the softest looking leaves you had ever seen. You ran your hand over the soft looking plant which sent a searing cut over your palm. ‘Should’ve seen that one coming’ you thought.

Behind the soft plant was a small glass cube. Inside was the purest green your eyes had ever met. The edges of the leaves appeared whitened as if touched by a December morning. That had to be what you were here for.

You slid the top off of the cube and carefully removed a cultivation of the plant. Unsure how else to test your theory you picked off a leaf and placed it on your tongue. Instantly you gashed hand sealed without a scar. You pressed the plant into your pocket and headed back for the hatch when you saw a green creature sliding through the space you had made. His eyes fixated on you before you had a chance to move. His thick fingers reached towards your arm extending way past where they should’ve. He bound your arms with a vine and marched you out of the lab door.

You couldn’t be sure where he was taking you but you knew it couldn’t be good. The creature had moved you round enough corners to be totally disoriented. Every green wall looked the same and there was no way to retrace your steps back to the hatch.

From the corner of your eye you saw a familiar looking red through a window amongst the green. Your head shot backwards making eye contact with Clarke. So you were east. Good to know.

“Y/N?!” Clarke mouthed through the window.

A segment of wall opened. A disguised door. And Clarke stood phaser pointed, face stern. All around him identical green creatures materialised from walls and ceilings crowding him. The Bokencam guarding you extended his arm into the crowd and released a phaser shot. Several of the green creatures fell backwards. Dead. He shot again and Clarke’s body thudded to the ground.

Your chest tightened enough to double you over. You felt winded. You tried to call his name but nothing came out. Your feet could barely support your weight never mind fight against the direction you were pushed. The creature holding you continued to march not batting an eyelid. He had killed tens of his own for one of you. The lack of humanity brief truly was not a warning. You kept your eyes on Clarke willing the blood to spill back into his body until he was completely out of sight.

***

Bones was barely listening to the conversation anymore. His thoughts were consumed by you. His mind immediately considering the worst possible outcome. Assuring himself he was overthinking he tuned back into the conversation.

“Guess I’ll pack it up then. Thank you for your time.” Jim began to close out the meeting.

“Now that you have wasted our time I think you should be offering some sort of penance. Would you not agree, Captain?” The green creature in front of him snarled back.

“I don’t think that’s necessary at all. I would actually argue that we’re now even.”

“Maybe we could change your mind.”

Bones sat up bracing himself for whatever mess Jim had talked himself into.

“No,” Jim said with no attempt to hide his own panic, “Y/N?”

Bones’ body went stiff.

“Y/N?!” Uhura asked, “Did he just say Y/N?”

Bones picked up his phaser and started towards to dome.

***

“Y/N are you alright?” Jim asked as tears began to fall from your eyes, Clarke’s body falling to the ground replaying over and over in your mind. “Y/N what happened.” Jim took a few steps towards you as all of the creatures raised their phasers.

“DON’T” you yelled to Jim, “They killed Clarke. They killed him right in front of me. They killed their own to do it.”

You watched as man who didn’t believe in no win scenarios calculated this in his head.

“So here’s what’s gonna happen.” Jim said to the creatures, a clear switch in his persona. “You’re going to hand over Lieutenant Y/L/N to me, right now. We’re going to walk out of that door and return to where our crew is stationed. We’re going to pack up and we’re going to leave.”

“No Captain I think that’s what you want to happen. But let me tell you how it goes here. First-“ The creature was cut off by the sound of doors clambering.

You looked up to see Leonard McCoy - hater of fieldwork - standing in the doorway accompanied by a plethora of red shirts, phasers charged.

“Hand her over. Now.” Bones said stalking towards you.

“Is this all about her?” The creature who had led you through the green corridors said kicking your back, sending your body forward and the leaf which had been resting on your tongue down your throat. Leonard’s face stiffened. “It is isn’t it?” The creature laughed “Well then let me make this very easy for you.”

The world went in slow motion.

Your eyes focussed on Leonard, managing the weakest of smiles as the phaser behind you released and shattered into your side.

The rush of familiar coloured shirts flooded the room you were in. Phasers shot in all directions and your body seized.

You found yourself laying across Leonard’s lap, as if it had always been there. Together you lay as one. Fitting seamlessly.

Leonard fussed over your side speaking words you couldn’t fully understand. You grabbed his working hands in yours.

“Hey,” he said brushing stray hair out of your face “You’re doing really well stay with me. Tell me something. Anything.”

“Maybe you were right.” you whispered looking up at him.

“I’ll never be right, Y/N, not while you’re around.” He placed a bloody hand behind your neck, thumb stroking your jawline.

“Bones!” Jim shouted through the fighting, “Help them!”

But you could see on Leonard’s face, there was nothing he could do.

Leonard pulled you close releasing a gentle sob by your ear.

“I love you too.” You whispered into the darkness

***

Leonard McCoy stood in a private room in his medbay looking at his soulmates cold body. He half heartily picked up the chart which lay on the bedside as he had so many times before. He read over the details as he had so many times before.

‘Lutenient Y/N Y/L/N

Time of death: 15:34

Killed in Action’

He checked his watch.

18:32.

Maybe it was time.

He brushed his hand over your forehead tucking your hair behind your ears. He had no more tears left to spill. He took your hand in his and placed a forceful kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” He stated. Not remorseful. Not angrily. Just stated.

His pressed the buzzer by the bed letting the on duty nurses know you were ready to be collected.

A small team arrived flashing sympathetic smiles towards Leonard.

He instinctively started to help until Nurse Chapel put a hand to his chest. “You don’t have to do this bit Leonard.” He nodded his head and stood back as the rest of the nurses wheeled your bed out of the room. “Go home.” She said squeezing his hands and then she left closing the door behind her.

Leonard knew he would still be expected to work. They were too far into deep space to get extra crew. But for now Chapel was right Leonard needed to go home. To his empty quarters you both called home.

Leonard began to cry again. Because now it was over.

He could hear a situation in the corridor. Biobeds going wild. Nurses shouting. But his instincts didn’t kick in until he heard them call out his name.

“DOCTOR MCCOY!” They shouted for the second time as Leonard drew a hand down his face picking up his medical pack and moved into the corridor were you sat upright on the bed.

Leonard was frozen for a minute. Legs stuck to the ground. Then he heard your voice.

“Move! MOVE!” He shouted as he rushed to your side his eyes flickering all over your face and then to the monitors beside you. “How the hell are you still alive?!”

“Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.” You leaped forward from the bed towards Leonard but he pushed you backwards lifting your top to look at your wound, brows knitted.

“Really, Leonard? You’re really killing the moment here.”

“It’s gone? How the hell is it gone?” He ran his fingers over your side.

You reached your hand into your pocket revealing the greenest plant with the crystallised leaves.

“You FOUND IT?!”

“Believe it or not Leonard I’m not awful at my job.”

“How did that- but how did it work?”

You cast your mind back to Leonard appearing at the dome doors, “I swallowed it. I had one of its leaves in my mouth, I accidentally swallowed it when they pushed me.”

“Sorry, you ATE an unidentified plant you’d JUST found?” Leonard said, disgust covering his face.

“...Yeh.”

“Again. How the HELL are you still alive.” Leonard wrapped his arms around your back lifting you from the bed. You wrapped your legs around his body.

An intimate moment that was positively seen by the room. Neither of you cared. It made sense. Every inch of you belonged together. There you stayed, fitting together seamlessly.

#star trek #star trek fic #Star Trek Fanfiction #star trek imagines #leonard mccoy imagines #leonard mccoy fanfiction #leonard mccoy x reader #bones star trek #bones x reader #doctor mccoy #dr mccoy #mccoy x reader #mccoy

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blueknightdg · 4 years

Text

We’re Soulmates

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

She was a lovely girl, big blue eyes and midnight hair. We met at a convention. The convention lasted a week and it was in england.

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

I only went to the convention because my father was there under cover. I was bored and wandered around without interest. She was server.

She offered me a pastry, just a was about to decline, a villain showed up. She seemed like a weak girl, so I grabbed her and lead her away. Unfortunately, she was their target. I didn't know why, but they captured her.

I couldn't let them take her, so I tried to get her back. They ended taking me with them. I turned on my tracking device and hoped that we'd be in the same room or at least nearby.

We did, but there were no windows or bars, just thick, see through plastic walls.

I asked her questions to see if I could get a read in what we were dealing with. She was hesitant, but decided to tell me what she could so we could get out of there.

From what she’s said, they want to get information out of her. Her friend was the son a villain, who long ago disappeared when he exposed by said friend. Her friend then went into witness protection and never seen again. Magic was involved and she didn’t want to say more. What’s more, the government of where she’s from erased all traces of what happened so they don’t have such a big blemish on its record. Seemed like she hadn’t meant to say all of that, but she was in a panic.

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

I didn’t know when the kidnappers where going to come and she didn’t look like she could handle any interrogation they would give her, so I hatched a plan.

I guided her on how to pick locks with hairpins and I undid hers. We then carefully snuck out. Unfortunately, we were spotted and I carried her as I ran. She was most likely slow.

By the time they caught up to us, Batman and his crew showed up.

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

Me and the girl were reunited with our respective families and I never thought much of her again. I did, however, look into which villain her friend was the child of and how well covered up it was.

To say it was almost impressive how well they did was no small thing. Though, a public blog was still up but inactive. Mostly because the person who created it was fiction novelist and amature journalist. They have little credibility, but I’m sure there was some truth to it hidden under all the fantasies.

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

I eventually did meet the girl later on in that same year when my sponsored eco event began. I hired her parents to cater and she was there. She was trying to help her parents by being a waitress. They wouldn’t let her, because she was an active member of the event. She was incharge of overseeing children in the daycare.

When one of the kids took a liking to me, she tried to get them to stop bothering me. The child made things a lot worst by telling me to marry her. She was embarrassed and kept apologizing to me.

I waved her off and just plopped the child her arms. I walked away, hoping she could distract the child. Didn’t work, the child was back and more adamant to play matchmaker.

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

“Manon, just why do you want him to marry me? We don’t know each other!”

“He’s pretty! You’re pretty! You can be pretty together!”

“We are way to young for that. Manon, looks aren’t everything. How would you feel if someone tried making you marry someone just because they thought you’d look cute together?”

“...upset....I’m sorry Marinette, I just wanted to make you happy.”

“Thank you, Manon, but relationships don’t solve problems. Now, please apologize to him for making him uncomfortable.”

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

After that we’d see each other once every other event or conference. Eventually, we became friends. She was the one who helped me realize I like Raven and set up dates for us. It’s thanks to her we got married. She truly was an angel.

Figuratively and literally, Marinette died in an unforeseen accident as the group that kidnapped us all those years ago, took her friend and she went to save him. I went with her, as did my family.

Her dedication to her friend, her loyalty is what got her killed. It was a mess and so many things went wrong. We saved him, but she got hurt in the process. For days, we waited in the hospital, hoping the surgery would succeed. It did not, she flat lined. Her friend cried and so did I. I named my child after her. She was the best friend I never knew I wanted until I met her.

----------

I remember her confining in me that she was tired of being pushed. When my brothers teased and made jokes about us being together, it hurt her. She recalled her friend that was a villain’s son had been confused and toxic when they were younger. He didn’t understand her, that if he loved her that he shouldn’t have done what he use to do before going to therapy. Sure they made up and he got better, but he traumatized her with his pushing.

When he realize what he did to her was wrong, he apologized and never went near her again, he avoided her. She was confused and had started to believe his old behavior was okay. It hurt her to agree with him that he should never be alone with her ever again.

----------

My brother’s teasing got so bad that she snapped and started crying. I was really mad, I glared at them. We told them once, we told them twice, we told them so many times to stop it and they didn’t listen. She was forced to open up and tell them things she didn’t want to say. She told them how she had rather to love on her own terms and not be pushed into it. She didn’t trust her own decision in love and rather not deal with it at all. I was happy they felt so guilty. She was like a soulmate to me. A sister that truly cared and understood my feelings.

My brothers did what they could to show her how sorry they were and gave us both space.

----------

I didn’t talk to them for a good four years. Eventually we did talk again and I wouldn’t let them near her for several months after.

My gosh, do I miss her.

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

Raven understood. She was as close to her as I was. I tried to move on and so did she, but she couldn’t handle it. We talked and our marriage wasn’t going to last if it kept up. We let our daughter decide on if we have joint custody or she’d go with either of us.

-----------

She didn’t want either of us. She was mad. We hadn’t talked for so long, that by the time we reconnected, I was an old man.

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

Before I went, she talked to me. She had finally understood and wanted me back in her life even if mine was ending. She was there even if Raven couldn’t. Raven had moved on from Marinette’s death at last, but with regret, she would then have to move on from mine.

She aged slower than a normal person. She still looked so young compared to me. I told her how beautiful she was.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything?”

“I’m sure, at the very least I want to die like a normal person.”

She smiled at last, “Please, you’re just happy to see your sister again.”

I chuckled, “If they let me.”

She frowned, “Of course they will,” she spoke softly.

“You are a good person and I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you again.”

“I hope so.”

With that I closed my eyes.

--------

The End.

Not all soulmates are romantic and not all ladybugs get together with someone. I just really wanted one where they don’t fall in love and prove that she didn’t have to have a lover. She’s a solid person that’s not defined by what other people believe after all.

#Marinette #Damian #Daminette #maribat #au #Soulmate #batman #robin #raven #Damirae #platonic #platonic soulmate #miraculous #ladybug #miraculous ladybug

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simp-4-kylo · 4 years

Note

I’m requesting Kylo having a size kink and manhandles his SO. Tells her things like “I’m going to rip you apart with my cock.”

Such a perfect fit

Warnings: Smut duh, sIZE kINk!!!, sexy times, Kylo Ren will destroy you, I need to change this to tags instead of warnings, sub!reader, dom!kylo. Like very dom kylo, uhh just very nsfw, degrading language, name calling, abuse of power?

Word Count: 1,435

A/N: Phew! I am such a slut for Kylo and I KNOW Kylo has a size kink, HAVE YOU SEEN THAT MAN HE IS THE DEFINITION OF SIZE KINK. I just want that man to dominate me and call me his bitch because that's what I am. Okay anyways I took a little break from writing so I could get the creative juices flowing again and produce good writing. So yuh, enjoy!!

Kylo loved fucking you, he would fuck you in his TIE Silencer, in an empty conference room, on the observation deck as he yelled at everyone to get out, but his favorite place to pound into you was in the bedroom. It sounds cheesy and as much as he loved when you sat on his dick riding him while we was in the pilots seat in the TIE Silencer, he could truly fuck you in your shared bed.

He was a very dominant person and loved every second when you submitted to him. You loved when he would reach his leather covered hands up to your neck and position his thumb and pointer finger on each side and squeeze. The sight of Kylo’s neck that was littered with veins as he fucked you always made you cry for more. Sometimes he would finger you once or twice before giving you his full cock, other times he would kiss you and thrust all of him straight into to the point you swore you felt it in your neck.

Everything about Kylo was huge, his hands, his height, and his cock. He knew this, he knew that you sometimes had trouble taking all of him due to his length and how thick the man’s cock was. He enjoyed watching you struggle to fit all of him inside your tight pussy, and what got him really going was when you told him that he couldn’t fit.

His entire hand could perfectly wrap around your neck, or when you jumped on him and wrapped your legs all the way around him both his lands would make their way down to your ass and hold up in place, his hands easily cupping all of your behind.

He allowed you to climb him like the mountain he is and as intimidating as Kylo appeared, behind closed doors when it was just the two of you he was much more calm. He loved holding you in his arms feeling the warmth of your body radiate off you, or he loved cuddling with you after you both had long stressful days. Being the Supreme Leader of the first order, everyday was just about a stressful day.

Today was not one of those days where Kylo wanted to be soft and loving to you, no he wanted to fuck you until he destoryed you. He wanted to make you cry for him to stop. Kylo needed to see you squirm as he slowly pushed his full cock deep inside your tight pussy. He needed to feel your little cunt clench around his dick as he released deep inside of you. That is exactly what he was going to do, he was going to fuck you until you could no longer cry out for him, he would destroy you.

Kylo had been waiting for you to arrive back at your shared living spaces, this was one of the very rare times he made it back before you did. He sat on the black leather couch in the middle of the room, legs spread apart as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knee. He rubbed his hands together and rested them over his mouth in a thinking position. He was already so worked up and you just had to be late. He knew how he would treat you the moment he saw the hatch to their place fly open.

The sound of the door opening tore Kylo from his thoughts as he looked up to see you walking through. You had on thick black combat boots, skin tight pants that were also black with red dancing down the sides, making your curves more prominent. To finish the look off you had on your black tunic and had your cape flowing behind you, the one with the shimmering red lace that were designed to your liking. Kylo would never admit it but, he got him going when you would walk next to him with your cape. How you two were the most powerful duo in the entire galaxy, people were just as afraid of you as they were of Kylo.

“You’re late, care to explain why?” Kylo said as he stood up and walked over to you as you were bent over to untie your boots. “Yeah my meeting ran over, and I had to deal with someone.” You replied as you stood up to be met with Kylo’s chest. “Why did you have to deal with someone. You know you can make anyone do anything, you should not be wasting your time on people who are ignorant.” Kylo said as his hands reached out to cup your face. “I know but I do enjoy calling people out, guess I picked that up from you. The bastard had the nerve to disrespect the Supreme Leader, and I was not going to allow such things.” You had replied as you reached behind your shoulders and removed your cape, resting it on one of the hooks that was near on the wall. Kylo had a smirk spread across his face as he reached down and grabbed you around the waist and threw you over his shoulder.

“You know I should reward you for being a good girl because you called someone out on their bullshit, but you came home late. Because of that you will have to get punished.” He said as he made his way through the hallway and into your shared bedroom. Kylo threw you down on the bed and commanded you to remove all of your clothing. As you nodded, excitement built up in you, whenever Kylo was controlling of you it was everything. You love the thought of being his pet and him using you. Every now and then he would treat you like so but, you both wanted to remain in a relationship that was somewhat normal.

“Lay flat on the bed, back facing up with your stomach down on the sheets. I want you to spread your legs, show me what's mine.” Kylo had said as he made his way on the bed, kneeling in between your legs where he pressed his erect cock against your glistening folds. The warmth that was flooding your body was beginning to become too much. The light touches of Kylo’s cock were driving you crazy, you knew he was in a more demanding mood.

“You’re going to take my entire cock, and you’ll love every second of it.” kylo said as he thrusted his hips forward causing his entire dick to sink into your dripping cunt. “Kylo! I can’t- Please! You- you didn’t even give me time to adjust. You’re too big!” You said in between breaths. “Little one, I said you were going to take all of me and you will obey my orders.” He had said as his hands ran down the side of your body and grip your hips as he pulled his hips back and then shoving them back forward with even more force.

“Kylo! You’re- Oh shit! Fuck-” You tried to say in between pants and moans. “Such a good girl, you’re taking my cock so well. I know it’s big but you love when this cock destroys your tight cunt. You just love when I fill you up.” He says as he continues to pound into you and fill your pussy. The pain radiates through your body, but you love the pain. The pain slowly turns to pleasure as Kylo holds a tight grip on your hips, pulling them down in an attempt to fill you even more. Kylo loved knowing that he was too big for you.

“This cock is going to rip you apart, and you will love every second of it. You are mine little one. All mine. This tight pussy is mine. Mine.” Kylo said panting and putting more force into each thrust. Kylo kept saying things like mine, take it, yeah I know I’m too big for you, take it all little one.

The two of you had both finally reached your climax, the warm feeling of Kylo’s cum shooting into you made you moan even more. He leaned forward and nuzzled into your neck. His cock still remained inside of you, he planted light kisses all over your neck and praised you for your good job. Knowing that when he fucks you like this, that you will be sore. As Kylo pulled out of you, you released a moan as his thick cock dragged against your walls. Kylo released a sigh as he saw his cum pour out from you, coating your thighs.

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redmaneroster · 4 years

Text

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [x-x] [6] [7] [8-9] [10]

PART 4 – Coping

Qrow isn't exactly the intimidating uncle so much as he is the nervous older friend. Sure, he comes in with cheek and swagger, but he hesitates sometimes and watches what he says. Things are uncomfortable for a while.

Jaune and Qrow are sitting alone on the sofa, eyes passed the TV and out the window. Jaune breaks the silence and asks him how he knew. Qrow, surprisingly, explains that he turned into a bird and followed them home. He fully intended to leave when they got into the door but then he overheard the bit about Ruby going missing so he sat by the window and waited for updates.

He fell asleep on the windowsill.

Yang's moaning woke him up.

Both men don't even dare look each other in the eye. They both agree not to bring that up with her for as long as they live.

It's minutes later after they've both taken a swig from their flasks that Qrow asks, "So what are you two?"

"I don't know," he answers; almost apologetic. Almost fearful, but not of Qrow. "We're close and trying to… forget things."

"Yeah, I can see that." Qrow takes another swig. "Tell me, is this about Tai and Rae?"

"More than a little, yeah."

"Those two idiots aren't the least bit careful anymore… I'm sorry she's lumping it onto you. If I'd done better, none of this would have happened."

"I don't mind just listening to her."

"I know. It's the fact that she has to go through it at all… She's still in school. Distractions are dangerous when you're still fresh on the hunt."

Jaune laughs. "She's been doing this for years. If anything, I'm the one that's still green."

"You runts don't get to be proper huntsmen unless you've faced a real, proper threat or graduated. To a licensed huntsman, there's a reason why you're all still in-training. All the glory and shit is the stuff you gotta revel in while you're still in the safety of these halls instead of roughing it in the wilds day after day, facing odds stacked against you."

Qrow is amicable, asking only that he doesn't also seduce Ruby. Jaune's confusion is answer enough. He's no Casanova. He isn't Taiyang. Qrow has it that he believes men like him are unprepared as partners and fathers. Jaune disagrees, saying that his own father was like Tai. To him, any man can work their way into being a proper partner.

They talk about it for long enough that Yang stumbles back into the apartment. She hopes Qrow hasn't spilled any embarrassing stories about her.

They're deftly quiet at that.

-0-

Yang doesn't stay long (it isn't like she spends every weekend with him after all), but she lingers at the door. She hears their muffled voices through the gaps but she doesn't strain her ears to decipher them. She isn't here to eavesdrop.

She hears them laugh. Briefly, she wonders if even Qrow knows Jaune more than she does.

Breathing evenly, she calms the fiery doubts and walks off.

-0-

"What are your intentions?" Qrow asks an hour later, once he's sure Yang is long gone because of course he knows when she's there.

"We didn't sleep together."

Qrow winces at the thought of them. Then it's so deeply uncomfortable that his whole body shudders. "Ah, god, fuck! Damn it, kid, I don't want to think about you two naked! How would you feel if I shared my stories with you!"

Jaune, similarly, melts down at the thought.

Yang actually comes back because she forgot Ember Celica. She hears them freaking out through the door and pivots into the other direction. Blake asks about her bracelets. Yang says it isn't important right now.

-0-

Jaune and Qrow sip their flasks at the same time. They joke about it.

When it's quieter, Qrow can see in his eyes that he wants to ask something so he encourages him to.

Jaune, with an uneasy breath, asks what Qrow is always drinking to forget.

Turns out, he doesn't drink to forget. Drinking is when he does the most thinking, actually.

Drinking is a hobby. Less a recreational drug and more a medicinal one. "Confused? Let me explain…" He doesn't recommend it but he's built up such a tolerance for it before he even went to be Beacon as a kid that it's all basically like water to him. Alcohol isn't his coping mechanism, but he confesses that he does technically have one if it can be called that.

He lost an old friend a long time ago and he isn't sure if his semblance is to blame. The thought has haunted him since. Grief mixed so deeply with poisoned guilt has made him obsessed with loneliness.

He enjoys the quiet nights sitting alone at home, eying the moon, dreaming of what ifs. He enjoys sitting in meadows, letting Summer heat hold him like a familiar embrace. He enjoys hunting solo and coming out on top, all in her name. It's proof that, even in death, she's still the best partner he ever had.

Alcohol is normalcy. It's where he thinks the most clearly, acts the most boldly, acts like himself. Being sober unsettles his mind, makes him act irrationally.

Somehow it makes sense. He always did seem the more sober man when he's got a flask in his hand. Even subconsciously, Jaune realizes that he's made that his gospel.

Qrow warns that it certainly isn't the same way with Jaune. (Jaune knows, of course. His tolerance is likely as weak Ruby's might be.) But Qrow confesses to being more worried about what he might do if he drinks too much. He saw all the whiskey in the fridge.

"I'm not going to hurt Yang. I stop myself from going too far."

"I don't mean Yang. She can handle herself around you, I'm sure." Qrow shows him a photo on his scroll. "This is what I'm worried about."

Jaune reels. He feels a few things. Mostly anguish, discomfort. Saphron and Terra are in Vale.

"When was this?"

"This morning. I thought they'd show up today and that I could be your convenient alibi for having an occupied guest room once they dropped in, but it looks they're busy doing whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing in the city."

"They're going to come by eventually. Even if not today then…"

"I can't stay, kid," Qrow says, cautiously, quietly. "You facing them is just as inevitable as their visit. I'm no good at this stuff but... my advice: Don't run."

-0-

Yang comes back to Jaune sat at the sofa, staring at a movie he isn't watching. Yang turns it off and when the screen buzzes into silence, Jaune finally realizes she's in the room.

He doesn't notice the many bags she brought with her.

When she asks what's going on, he tells her that Terra is in town.

Yang asks if Saphron is with her.

He realizes that he forgot to mention his own sister.

Yang takes his hand and leans into his side. "It's that bad, huh?"

His free hand pulls out the now empty flask. "I might need more than the watered down whiskey."

She sits on his lap and pushes his flask away. "Get drunk on me." Her eyes are half-lidded and pleading, a promise etched into the wetness of her lips and heat rolling off her breath.

He does what she asks.

They press together so closely that he feels another one of inhibitions snap.

That night he decides – without really thinking about why – to steal a kiss while she sleeps. He realizes that the gesture is far too affectionate than it should be but can't bring himself to regret it.

She was awake the whole time.

-0-

PART 5 – Accommodation

Yang fixates on the kiss. Not that it's changed how she feels or how she's going to feel, only that she wonders what's changed for him with her. She finds herself lingering on his silhouette in bed, paying attention to subtleties in his tone, the way he moves around her or if he catches himself saying anything he wants to say but can't.

And all she's found in mapping him out is that he's no different from before.

Blake tells her that it could mean any number of things. Weiss maintains that it has to be burgeoning love. Ruby, much to their surprise, tells them that it was probably a moment of weakness and that he probably still doesn't know what it means.

The girls – Pyrrha included – suggest that Ruby is probably right. But Yang finds herself unwilling to accept it. She isn't one for sitting still. So instead of deferring to their wisdom… she hatches a plan.

It falls apart immediately.

-0-

Lingerie is her first idea, a vibrant red with thin enough material to tear off with ease. Scented candles to fill the spaces, lighting the bed and the nightstands while drowning the rest in dark. A nice ambient drone off the speakers in another room just to fill any silence. And makeup, the kind that layers thick and she feels physically on her face but comes recommended from Coco's article on a magazine.

She calls up Pyrrha to coach her on it, but the girl only blinks at her beyond the digital lense and asks, "Do you want him to sleep with you or fall in love?"

At first, Yang is confused until she takes a good hard look at herself in the mirror and… doesn't recognize who's looking back at her.

"I don't know," she says honestly. She smiles placatively and hangs up. Pyrrha knows she'll figure it out, but Yang has to first get rid of the mess she's made in his bedroom. Everything else will follow after.

She tosses the heels in the bin (they were cheap anyway), rips off her stockings, and covers up the rest in a bath robe. She tries to wash off the makeup but it smears and will take longer than she has time for. She tries too frantically to get the candles out and accidentally sets fire to one of his chairs – she ends up violently launching it into the tiled shower wall and leaves the shower running.

Finally was the music wafting in from the living room, playing off her scroll. She's already halfway into the living room when the front door opens. She freezes in place just as Jaune is letting in his guests, Saphron and Terra.

Yang doesn't know Saphron, not really, but there's a mutual trust between them when the older girl runs over to her, takes her by the wrist, and drags her back into Jaune's room.

Minutes later, Saphron is dabbing some solution on her cheeks. The makeup comes off in clumps – some semblance of relief comes with them.

"I'm Yang," she says suddenly.

Saphron's bemused smile banishes any tension she has left. Yang already embarrassed herself and not much could make it worse at this point when your first impression is half naked in the living room. She'd also spied the lingerie but she'd thankfully neglected to mention the familiar strap peeking off her shoulder.

"Saphron," she says but says no more. She focuses on the task at hand and Yang quiets with her. Then Saphron starts humming. It's familiar, as if carved out of a chapter in her life that she can hardly remember. Suddenly it's clear that this woman is a mother.

"My brother mention me a lot?" Saphron asks.

"He tries not to but can't help it. You always manage to come up in his stories to curb his nonsense. You'd be a punchline if the stories were supposed to be funny."

"Tends to happen." Saphron winks. "Us older sisters have to butt in all the time."

"He told you about me and Ruby?" She wasn't expecting to come up in conversation.

"No… I can just tell." Another smile. More secretly knowing. And she is briefly afraid that all her secrets have already been laid bare. "He told me you were his roommate."

"Ah." A safe descriptor. She'd been expecting a cover story like being his live-in girlfriend. She'd even prepared the lines and a backstory. It's a small a comfort that doesn't have to go through that.

Saphron pouts for a moment before her eyes turn devilish. "He also mentioned that you two share a bed and make out." Yang blinks at her. Her confusion also confuses Saphron. Isn't that supposed to be embarrassing? "Is… was he wrong?"

"Uh… no. That's exactly it. I guess I just wasn't expecting the truth."

"And you really aren't sleeping together?" Saphron peels the gown off her shoulder and tugs at the bra strap. Yang yelps when it snaps back into place. "With an outfit like this?"

"It was a lapse in judgement." She gestures to herself. "I swear this isn't how I normally am. I don't think I'll ever put on something like this ever again."

"Hm… a honeymoon might change your mind, but let's not dwell on that. You've got scented candles in the corner and I can smell…" – she sniffs the air – "burnt wood from the bathroom? What led to all this?"

"I'm… not sure I should say."

Saphron takes Yang's hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me, but it feels like you're struggling with something all on your own."

"I'm not, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I just didn't take anyone's advice. I don't like the idea of waiting for something to happen when I can already do something about it."

"There is value in patience."

"I don't think waiting is my problem. I think I'm just too proactive to do nothing."

"My brother leave you hanging or something?"

"Kind of? … I've said too much already."

"Or not enough." She smiles in that way again. As if knowing. "But I won't pry. I know that sometimes it's better to wait and come to your own conclusions. Right or wrong, a decision you make yourself stays with you and sometimes that's more valuable than being handed the keys to the castle."

"You really think highly of Jaune, don't you?"

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I've never heard someone describe the way to someone's heart as 'keys to a castle'."

Saphron gives her a catty cheek. "Oh, so you are in love with him." But she is surprised again when Yang doesn't blush.

She shrugs instead, looking away. Not out of embarrassment but to eye her own fragmentary reflection on the corner of the vanity's mirror. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before."

"But… you're so pretty."

"So is Jaune. So is my sister. And all but one of my roommates have never even kissed anyone before coming to Beacon. It isn't like we don't have time to fall in love, it's just not always our biggest concern. They drill it in you early that staying alive out there should be your priority." She eyes the bra strap on her shoulder in the mirror, hates what it represents, what it almost made her do. She pulls up the sleeve again, hiding it away, and she almost looks like herself. "I think that's why I like being around him. He doesn't pass judgement on whether not my problems are big or small. He just knows they're important to me and lets me be heard."

"Is being a good listener what you look for in a partner?"

"It might." She laughs. "It's hardly an extensive list, though, isn't it?"

Saphron huffs, settling herself comfortably beside her and dusting off her skirt. "Lists are overrated. Not that you shouldn't have standards, but if you want to extensively checklist every potential partner, you'll end up with a growing criteria less and less people will be able to fill. And trust me, I've lived a storied life – been dating people since I was fifteen – and I've found that it's easier to talk to people and let things click. Hell, I wasn't even trying to flirt with Terra when we first met. She was the wingwoman to the girl I was actually trying to get with and we just happened to get along better."

"Sounds like quite the story."

"Why don't I tell you over dinner? It'd be a nice little preamble to me and Terra. I suspect we'll be meeting quite often in the near future."

"I guess I will be tagging along with Jaune if you really want me to."

"If I really want you to? You sound a little meek there," Saphron teases. "Jaune described you as the kind of girl with confidence to rival a peacock. Was my brother wrong or are you just starting to sound like him?"

"Hey, I don't…! Oh shit, you're right."

"Fair tradeoff, I suppose. Jaune's got peacock confidence now and I guess you're to blame."

"Ha! No, I can't take credit for that. Pyrrha – his ex – I'm sure she's your culprit."

"We've met. Jaune brought her over last year before they started dating. Wasn't even going to take her to the dance, the little dunce."

"Oh, but they hooked up that night! After they both showed up stag and he tore up the dance floor in a dress."

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screamed, her eyes lighting up with mischief Yang realizes she's just armed her with.

A knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" Jaune asks, muffled through the mahogany.

"We're fine!" Yang says.

"Peachy, little brother," Saphron adds with a flare of sarcasm, "but you're going to regret keeping secrets from me."

"Yang!" Jaune screeches, panicked. "What did you tell her?"

Yang laughs, hearty and comfortable with Saphron snickering beside her. It almost feels right, like it's something that always should have been, and she wonders why she was ever so afraid. "What you should have told her! You know you can't keep secrets from big sisters!"

"Oh really? I can promise you that there are secrets Ruby hasn't told you."

Yang shot up from her seat. "What!?"

Saphron sits back. "Aren't you two lively…" she whispers.

"I'm no snitch, Xiao Long!" Jaune shouts, snark clear in his voice.

"You'll fess up one way or another!" Yang, in her excitement, marches to the door.

Saphron bolts out of her place and grabs her arm. "You're still underdressed," she says calmly, belying the panic quickened in her chest.

Yang looks down at herself. She's showing a little cleavage too with the loosened bath robe. She takes an extra step back for good measure and clutches the lapels closed.

"C'mon. You're looking a little too comfortable now. Let's find you something modest." Saphron tugs her towards the closet.

"Backing down already?" Jaune said in what – to him – was a moment of silence.

"I'll get you yet, Vomit Boy!" Yang jeers.

Saphron perks up. "Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groans behind the door. "Yang!"

Yang, despite the grin tugging at her cheeks, silently promises to make it up to him later.

-0-

Jaune stands in the center of his living room, staring at his shut door. Saphron has just dragged Yang into it, and his mind has been reeling with what he'd seen. Barely dressed, slow music off her scroll, and with smeared makeup on? He doesn't want to come to any conclusions, not without talking to her first, but the obvious ones come to mind.

He isn't certain he can reckon with the inevitable outcome.

Behind him, Terra sensibly cuts off Yang's music playing off her scroll. Jaune nearly jumps when he's brought out of his stupor and into her beautiful, suffocating presence. Terra is still as captivating as he remembers, tinted with the gloss of a boyhood crush that refuses to die. At least with Saphron around he could suffuse it, but not alone in the heavy quiet of his apartment.

Terra gives him a bemused smile. Ever sympathetic. She pats the seat cushion beside her and Jaune joins her, plopping on the cushion with a held breath he eases out of himself.

"You seem surprised," Terra says. "And here I thought you'd already seen her in less."

"I did say we've only made out… and snuggled." He can't decide which one is more scandalous. Perhaps neither. Or both, given that they aren't even dating.

"Yeah, despite that being unusual enough to be true, I still had my doubts."

"Have any still?"

"No. You definitely don't look like the kind of couple that's seen each other naked."

Jaune's eyes narrow. "We're not a couple."

"I believe you," she says with a smile. She's so dangerously close to him that he can smell her perfume. A glance shows him that she's eying him expectantly. He's tense, uncertain, and it's clear that she can see that. She pulls away, giving him room to breathe. "Guessing you've still got a crush on me then?"

His spine gets stiffer, spotting her at the corner of his eye because he refuses to look directly at her. She's smiling still. Being cheeky. "Terra…" he groans.

She scooches a little closer again (taking a chance that his nerves might not erupt), and lets his heat wash over her and lets him feel hers. The affection is platonic, he knows that. He and his sisters huddle together for comfort often, and Terra has just learned to follow suit. But he can't help but revel in it, letting it sink into his pores till it leaves a familiar tingle.

A small part of him hates it but mostly hates himself for indulging.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" Her tone is quiet, almost a whisper. She's trying to ease him.

"Because you cared about me."

She chuckles because it's naïve and honest and oh so very like him that it's almost nostalgic. "Was that really all?"

"When you're young and naïve, that's all it takes."

"I didn't know you were lonely."

It was his turn to chuckle. "I wasn't. I was never some lonely little kid who didn't have any friends. I had enough love from my sisters alone to fill my heart a hundred times over."

"Then why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Do I need to have been missing something in my life to want to fall in love?"

Her feet shuffles in place. "I guess I haven't seen it that way. After I was old enough to date, I'd not gone a year without someone I wanted to be with or was already with. I always felt like love completed me, like it does now with Saph… Is that not how you feel?"

"I'm… I'm not saying love doesn't make me happy or anything. It's just that I don't feel like I need it to feel whole. I don't think it'd complete me, just that it might be nice to have too. Is that not how you feel?"

She chuckles again, a nervous uncertainty tinting her quiet, teahouse melody. "I don't know. Never been without it, really. At least not for long."

He looks at her – examines her, really – because her cheek is gone, as is her confidence, and it feels like she's revealing her artifice in a vulnerable moment. She's digging gaps into her own thoughts and he can see her pick apart her own internal logic and she seems more and less somehow. Like she's less the perfect cut gem he thought she was and sees the girl underneath it.

He's less tense all of a sudden.

And for a moment he feels like he can come to grips with everything that she is. Who she was to him, who she wasn't, and who she's become. A boyhood crush, flightful fantasy, and… he can't bring himself to think of the last. Fist clenching and unclenching, a slow motion that tries to hide the trembling in his digits.

He swallows and he worries if she can hear it. She doesn't, but she can see something's troubling him.

"How's Adrian?" he asks.

"Oh, he's –"

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screams from beyond the locked bedroom door.

Jaune jolts up from his seat and nearly bumps into Terra who'd stood along with him. She steps aside and he hurries to the door, asking after them. Terra tries not to pay attention (she can barely hear what they say beyond the door anyhow) but then he mentions Yang's sister, Ruby – the girl Terra thought he actually has a crush on – and Yang audibly shouts, "What!?" passed the door at him.

"Aren't you two lively…" Terra whispers.

-0-

Dinner is a largely pleasant affair until the alcohol gets introduced. The hills of drink they stack onto the table to peruse intimidates Jaune and he cautions that he cannot – will not – drink anything that isn't at least on the rocks. He'll shoulder tomorrow's regret but he doesn't want to sleep through the sun burning through the morning and afternoon.

Saphron and Terra share a glance before pulling something out of Terra's bag. Diadem, a vintage Vacuan drink stronger than everything else on the table. They only ask that he a takes a shot. It'll buzz him through the evening.

It's too strong and he nearly hurls.

Yang half remembers all the stories they tell. Saphron regales them with tales of how she met Terra, the proposal, the wedding, and even the honeymoon off the coast of Menagerie. Jaune spouts on about his team and a misadventure with his twin on an old farm and a horse, and Yang, somehow, talks about a food fight twice. It's funnier the second time around.

There's a gap in her memory of whatever story Terra was telling because she fixates on one part and can't focus on anything else. "…she's little Adrian's babysitter," she mentions briefly but doesn't have the faculties to ask about.

When Saph and Terra leave for their hotel, things wind down and Yang's sitting on the sofa in Jaune's hoodie. Yang returns the shirt and shorts she borrowed but she feels like wearing something that's his might help with tonight.

Jaune joins her, easing down slowly as his head rides the waves of a dying Vacuan storm.

"Who's Adrian?" she asks.

He's quiet for a moment, perhaps from the drink. "He's Terra's son."

Yang can see it. Saphron isn't mentioned deliberately. He doesn't just forget this time. "Oh! From a previous marriage?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing like that," he says, sobering up.

"A previous partner then?"

Jaune says nothing. He's sitting upright. Rigid and awake. There's something there. Maybe Terra had a previous partner he didn't like, but then things click into place. Realization sets in like headlights through the fog, suddenly and violently.

"Oh my god…" she whispers, "…he's yours."

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. She grabs onto his arm and pulls him into a hug. She's hit a nail on the head and panic sets in when she thinks she's opened up an old wound. It's precisely the kind of thing they're supposed to help each other forget. Only, Yang doesn't realize that Jaune is so caught off-guard by her sudden burst of affection that he's at first startled and – when she goes in for a kiss and ends up headbutting him instead – he ends up laughing it off.

His mirth is almost strange until it makes complete sense somehow. She's done her job, kept her end of the bargain, and now she's laughing with him too.

When he's calmed down, he lies back on the sofa when she goes to get a drink. She comes back to find him lying across the sofa and she makes the executive decision to just fall on top of him. She crashes into his stomach with a hefty oof from him and she makes no apologies for retaliating.

"Sofa hog," she jeers from her perch on his chest, chin resting on her arms.

"I bought it," he shoots back playfully, eying her down from the arm rest.

"Still pay half the rent. And I never asked you to pay me back when I foot the bill for refurbishing them."

"Wouldn't have needed to if Zwei didn't tear them up."

"It was a joint decision that we took him in for the week. You're as much to blame."

He sighs. "I guess I am."

It isn't actually an issue. They've basically already had this discussion and Yang had insisted on covering for it at the time. They're only stalling. Even Yang isn't quite sure she wants to go on.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to summon the courage to speak again. All she knows is that he's willing to answer, even if it would be easier for both of them to stay ignorant. To let these problems solve themselves and never to bear your heart until it is absolutely necessary.

But she speaks anyway. "I thought it was the wedding that got to you."

And so does he. "No, it… it just happened at the wedding. Saph had to go talk to an old classmate and so she left Terra with me. I was already holding Adrian and with Joan running off somewhere, we were alone. Just me, Terra… and our son. It hit me then. Slowly, like when you stare at yourself in the mirror at the night of a recital. You think, 'This is it. This is where things fall apart… or meet in the middle.' I knew I had to make peace with it before it got worse."

"And your answer was watered-down whiskey the minute you got back home?"

He shrugs. "Qrow gives good advice."

"Hm… maybe. I still think mine is better."

"Oh? And what's that?"

She pushes herself up over him, arms at either side of his head till her silhouette is against the dim glow of the incandescent bulb, warm light pooling through her hair till it looks like it's on fire. "Get drunk on me," she says, her breath tickling his nose and burning his lips.

But he doesn't kiss her. She sees the way his lips quiver, almost wanting to, but he doesn't even try.

She retreats instead, nestling back onto his chest but his cheeks are still burning and she swears hers are too. The room feels like it's boiling.

"When we kiss, do you think of her?"

"Never," he says honestly, and that seems to be the part that stings the most to him. "That's the most dangerous thing about you. You don't taste, feel, or smell like anyone else." He looks at her and only her, and she shrinks away as she gets up and off of him because she feels like a moon in a sea of stars, and as he straightens up and sits parallel to her, his eyes never leave, like a captive witness.

He leans in, and she doesn't know if it's to kiss her or just her sheer pull on him. She ultimately doesn't decide. Their foreheads meet – her eyes are downward but locked to his lips – and she breathes quietly as she asks, "Jaune? Are you in love with me?"

"Yang, are you even sure you are?"

"I… don't know yet."

He pulls away just an inch as something unsettling furrows his brow.

He gets up. "Gimme a minute," he says, and he's gone for just long enough for her to notice that the familiar heat she had pressed against her is missing.

She doesn't know what to expect when he comes back with his hand clutching a small object, but she would have never guessed a ring. It's nestled in a velvety box that he sits on the coffee table and he leaves it open as he sits down and watches it with her like it's some alien thing. He doesn't speak but he gives her a glance and…

It's then that she realizes that she's afraid. The look on her is uncertain – she can feel it, and she feels it freeze on her features.

"Did you pick this out for me?"

He shakes his head. "It was supposed to be Pyrrha's."

She blinks. "Is… is this what scared Pyrrha off?"

"No… it's what scared me off." He leans back against the sofa and she takes that as an invitation to do the same. They're huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Our breakup was only supposed to be temporary. Some tournament rival tried to pin her to a scandal when they found out she slept with me."

"What? Why would that be a problem?"

He snorts. "I was too young." Out loud, it sounds absurd.

"You were seventeen," she reasons.

"And Pyrrha was eighteen. As far as the law is concerned, Pyrrha slept with a minor."

Yang can feel herself coil up like a loaded spring. "Well, that's fucked! You're barely three months apart!"

"Didn't matter to them. Tabloids would have pinned it on her for the rest of her career. The context doesn't matter to the public."

"Okay…" she says slowly, stifling her frustrations for later. "So, what changed then? Why did you set her up with Sun?"

"Because I went to the wedding and found myself thinking about Terra again. It gave me some unhealthy doubts. I loved Pyrrha, I really did, but it felt wrong when I danced with Terra that night, holding our son in our arms… It felt like I'd betrayed Pyrrha somehow, even in my own mind, by feeling those things. It didn't matter that I didn't actually do anything about it."

"That's not how feelings work though," she says. "You're supposed to have doubts sometimes because people aren't perfect or consistent. Life isn't fiction, Jaune."

"I know that now." He shrugs, resigned in a way. "I found out a little too late though."

"How did you even get Pyrrha to agree to this?"

"She's not very honest about her feelings. Doesn't have the courage to be. When she heard that I'd pushed Sun to ask her out because Nora can't keep a secret, she thought that I might have given up on her. By the time we got the chance to be honest about it, she'd already gotten to know Sun enough to start taking him seriously."

Yang glances back at the ring. Not quite as alien as it was earlier. It just seems strange now, like it's out of place. There's a small comfort in that. "So where does the ring come in?"

"I got it as a sort of celebration when would get back together, but then people started asking about what it meant and… it felt like I'd stumbled onto some finality between us. Like I'd somehow found 'the one' over a year of friendship, a few dates, and showing up to the dance in a dress."

Yang smiles. Not because he seemed silly at the time, but because he's smiling. Because, in spite of his somber reflections, he can't help but feel like what he'd done turned out to be a triumph.

Her arm loops into his and his head leans on hers in response. "Doesn't sound like a bad set up to me," Yang says, shrugging against his arm. "If anything, it sounds like the stars aligned for you two." She speaks honestly. Forgets herself and sees him as Pyrrha's too-perfect other half to a too-perfect couple. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, she might have cheered them on for the rest of their lives. But that isn't how it turned out.

"That's what everyone was saying. It's like we'd ripped ourselves out of a fairytale, only I was a dense, blind princess and she was some stoic, stubborn prince. But it put a lot of pressure on us, living up to that story, and it felt like I wasn't as ready as I should have been. I came to Beacon unprepared for a lot of things. Might have hurt the people depending on me by not being ready. I was lucky my shield arm was always sturdy, but my heart wasn't. I naively worried that my inexperience would hurt us irreversibly." He rolls a hand over his knuckles. Contemplatively, regretfully. "I thought I was leaving her in good hands, but even if that's true, should I still have stayed instead? Did I have any right to decide if we should have stayed together or not?"

Her fingers slide off his arm and weave into his. She's huddling closer now, feet off the ground and knees tucked up to her chest. "I think, when we fall in love, we have to decide for ourselves if we want to keep going. We don't choose for the other in that. We choose for ourselves cause we are who we're supposed to look out for. You have to protect yourself first." Yang clutches tighter, and somehow Jaune can tell that her mother is involved. "That's the beautiful thing about a love that works. We decide for ourselves and it all just happens to fall into place with someone else. It doesn't always magically align – sometimes you don't agree with what they want or how they take it – but real love compromises just as much as it just… clicks." Like her and her dad. And Ruby. And maybe – if things turn out alright – her mom.

He wants to believe her. Even if he and Pyrrha didn't pan out, they still love each other as friends and things ultimately haven't changed between them. They were always bound to work out their issues and it's clear now that they've compromised without needing to sacrifice the friendship they'd fostered together.

He wants to thank her, but her eyes are away and she's chewing her lip. Yang is thinking of something else. Her sigh cuts through the silence and she's too shy to look at him.

"Jaune, why did you kiss me?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Last night. In bed. While I was sleeping."

His eyes widen. He's been caught. "Is it really so unusual?"

"It is when you aren't thinking of Terra or Adrian. When you do it just because you wanted to."

"How… how could you tell?"

She can hear the panic in his voice. Caught and cornered, it makes her a little happy to know he's unable to hide it. But it's the speed of which he accepts his fate that gets her grinning, because it's as if a part of him is tired of hiding it. "Because you weren't trying to forget something. You weren't trying to tease me and I certainly can't flirt back when I'm asleep…" She shoots him a knowing look and he gulps through a feeble foundation of defiance. "It was none of that. You did it hoping I wouldn't notice. You did it because you were hiding something you wanted."

He crumbles under her teasing. "Y-Yang, I… I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," she says evenly, defusing his tension and giving him a moment to breathe and look into her eyes. "Don't jump to a conclusion you aren't ready to make." Her tone is slow and deliberate, fingers gliding along the skin of his arm like a soothing, gentle caress. "I get it, Jaune. Like me, you're still trying to figure it out."

He pulls away but fixes her with a stern, serious look. She doesn't realize he's holding her hand till he's squeezing it. He's composed, certain, and so deftly drunk on her that Yang remembers Jaune telling her that drowning in drink gives him clarity. "That's just it, Yang. I know I feel something. I've been feeling a lot of things when I'm with you…" His confidence wanes before he admits that, "It's just that I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to do about it."

Yang blinks twice and tries to speak but can't. And suddenly she can't stop the curl of her cheeks when she feels a growing smile coming.

He's almost afraid. "Yang?"

"Sorry. I'm still… you know you just confessed, right?"

"Ha!" he laughs, heart squeezing his chest. Relief in many ways settling into his skin. "Were you expecting me to say 'I love you'?"

"…"

He chuckles. "Oh my god, Yang."

"Is it weird that I'm a little giddy about that total cliché? Say it again."

He thinks it a little much but the words are easy, flowing freely from his lips. "I love you."

"Agh! You're a serious cheat. Why is it so easy for you to say?'

"Cause I already made peace with it. You stood there in a white dress and I could see you tearing Terra out of that place in my mind and putting yourself there in her stead. I already knew. You've been nothing but a tidal wave to my emotions, just swallowing everything up and leaving little traces of yourself everywhere."

He settles back into the cushions, sinking comfortably into it. "I used to sit on this couch and scream curses at the moon through the window," he says. "Nowadays my eyes are glued to the screen watching a movie with you. I used to be careful about what I threw into the sink because I was afraid I'd have to call in a mechanic to fix the shredder again, and now I don't even give it a second thought."

"And you used to lie in bed thinking about her…" Yang teases.

"Actually, no. I was at peace when I went to bed. Pyrrha trained me to shut down once I got under the sheets. Nowadays it feels like the sandman keeps missing my eyes with the way you move me around in bed."

"I don't think your tongue's been doing much complaining."

"Seems you were willing to use more than just your tongue earlier," he says, teasing her. She shrinks a little, embarrassed. "What were you doing anyway?"

"I was, uh, trying to seduce you."

"Oh… What changed?"

She groans. "I guess my wires got crossed. I thought that if I got you to sleep with me, this" – she gestures between them – "would suddenly clear up. But I'm not that kind of girl. I don't put on lingerie all the time expecting you to see it. Not even sure I'm the kind of girl who wants her clothes ripped off when I get you riled up."

"Yeah, your outfits look expensive. Custom fit and embroidered."

"I wouldn't hit you if you tried, FYI. I'd maybe cry or get upset."

"I'll try not to ravage you through your clothes if that ever happens."

"If? Still don't think we're gonna end up doing the dirty tango after all we've been through? Seems inevitable at this point."

"I think we'll either do it when it makes sense or decide we aren't meant for each other."

"I don't know. I'm pretty snug right where I am." She gives him cheek, brimming with certainty. Confidence. "Still," she says more seriously, "are you really so ready to give up what we have? I don't see it happening, but it looks like you think we're just as likely to stay together as splitting up."

He looks away. Yang is surprised to find him embarrassed, not concerned.

"You don't actually feel that way," Yang says gleefully. "You're as sure as I am."

"I'm not ready to take that risk just yet," he confesses.

She moves to straddle him and loops her arms around his neck. "I can wait."

His hands grip her waist through the thickness of the hoodie. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I told you that love was about deciding for yourself and settling into compromises if our choices don't align. I'm choosing to stay. And – I hope – we agree to compromise."

He takes a moment to look away before locking eyes with her. He leans in and pecks her lips so briefly that she doesn't get the chance to kiss back.

"Wh-what?"

"It's how I'm supposed to say yes, aren't I?"

She laughs and so does he. Yang was expecting to cap off the night with a kiss, pressing bodily into the sheets as their hands roam their bodies, but none of that happens. They clean the dinner the table, take separate baths, and settle into bed together.

She does kiss him on the neck for good measure but he realizes that he can still feel the kiss and it isn't because there's a tingle there. Cracking an eye open, he notices the gloss on her lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"The light kind," she says. "Told myself I'd leave a mark on you during my little lapse earlier. I've decided not to give you a hickey. Consider it an act of mercy."

He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it but can't. He's painfully aware of it and he just knows he's gonna smudge that on something. It'd be funny if it's Yang's face but he'd hate to get it on his sheets. He sits up. "Yeah, nope. I'm washing this off."

"What? C'mon!" She grabs onto him, anchoring him back into bed.

"Nope. Not doing it," he says defiantly.

"Have it your way, Arc. Hickey it is!"

"Wait, Yang! Yang!"

-0-

Jaune is reminded everyday that he showed up to brunch that following morning with a hickey his scarf couldn't hide. Yang makes it up to him by buying dessert.

The get-togethers go on and Yang is less and less embarrassed about openly teasing Jaune and showing her affections publicly. Jaune retaliates, of course, and they even get hot and bothered in the hallway of a movie theater. They spend the rest of the movie in a stall. Terra finds them and is honestly just surprised they haven't taken each other's clothes off… ever.

Jaune and Yang don't tell them that neither of them and ready to go that far yet. Jaune takes the brunt of the blame and says that if he doesn't hold back, they'll end up doing something stupid. Saphron slips Jaune a condom and he regrets everything for the rest of the night.

Two weeks pass with much the same. Sometimes they introduce Saphron and Terra to some of their other friends, and they even manage a weekend together in a cottage near the coast. They're excited about reuniting with Pyrrha and they even meet Sun on her scroll.

Yang finds out that Saphron is every bit a mother as she is a big sister, and Jaune reminds her that she is practically no different herself.

Jaune learns that Qrow and Terra are old classmates and that they had more in common than they thought.

And after Joan is caught scheming with Nora and getting her and Ren back together, after Blake engorges the shrimp platter on a Schnee-sponsored dinner, after Weiss tames a friendly rivalry between Winter and Saphron about who has the cuter sibling, after Ruby gets her cheeks pinched till they go red cause she lost a bet and showed up in an adorable beowulf costume, and after Penny freaks out and her head pops off at dinner (her severed head still tries to chew on a salad)… their two weeks together are up and they're standing at the train station, ready to see them off.

It's been raining for the last few days and everything is damp and cold. Even the air is still thick with the smell of misty rain water and the sky hasn't seen the sun even peek through the cloud cover. It's almost a somber way to say goodbye.

Saphron is introducing Yang to her babysitter and little Adrian over a video call. Jaune stands aside, unwilling to let the last few weeks burn away at the sight of his biological son gurgling through the screen.

Terra nudges into his side. "Can we talk?"

He nods and she pulls them away beside a pillar. Saphron notices and winks at her wife.

"Is there something wrong?" Jaune asks.

"Nothing, actually. I might even say our impromptu vacation here might as well have been perfect."

"Impromptu?"

"I guess it never came up but… we were only supposed to be here for a few days."

"Why did you stick around then? Wouldn't that have been imposing on your babysitter?"

"Oh, Taffy was plenty happy to be at the house with Adrian. She's an orphan and she takes every excuse to come over." She leans in to whisper. "We might even adopt her once I get a raise at the office so look forward to a niece! And, really, is it such a surprise that we enjoy spending time with you and your friends?"

"After the bonfire? I guess not."

"Good. Now that isn't why I needed to talk."

"Oh…" He glances at Yang a few feet away. He can barely hear her and Saphron through the rancor of the station.

"I know you've been holding back."

"Did Yang tell you that?"

"Call it a big sister's intuition."

"You're an only child."

"Not anymore, I'm not. Now I've got six little sisters and a not-so-little brother." She pats his chest then busies her hands with straightening his collar. "A little brother who is too afraid to take a chance and would much rather play it safe than play at all."

"Terra…"

"I know you're afraid that you aren't ready. I wasn't either. Hell, sometimes I worry I'll mess up and ruin a perfectly good marriage. These are all normal things to be afraid of, and for some people, these fears don't go away. We just learn to live with them."

She slides her hands to his arms and down to fingers till she's holding them softly and looking up at him. There's a quiet concern in her sad little smile that he isn't sure how to respond to.

"I think you've driven yourself to be so careful with your feelings that you've forgotten to just take things as they come," she says. "I know you have to be careful with your heart but the thing isn't made of glass. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts easily, the fact that you're still in one piece should be more than enough proof that you aren't as fragile as you think you are. Maybe take a risk. Maybe love will hurt, but so few of us get better at it without giving it a shot first. Like a lot of things, Jaune, it takes a lot of trial and error."

"I've been down this road before already…"

She squeezes his hands. "And you'll go down it again and again. Sometimes people find love once and that's all it takes. But for the rest of us? For most of us? We gotta keep trying."

With a kiss on the cheek and a whispered 'good luck', Saphron and Terra disappear into accelerating train until even it vanishes into the horizon.

Jaune stares into the middle distance and Yang, much like Terra, nudges into his side. "What did you talk about?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Stuff."

"Oh, well that's lame. Should've had more to say to someone you really care about." It's clear she doesn't buy it.

He knows she doesn't. "Yeah, real shame I wasn't more profound and emotional."

She rolls her eyes because she'll let it be and won't pry for his sake. "C'mon, it's getting chilly out here and it might rain again with the wind picking up." She makes to walk off.

"Hey, Yang?"

She stops. "Yeah?"

For a moment he doesn't speak, his eyes are uncertain and elsewhere but then his fists clench as if he's just convinced himself to do something. "Wanna get dinner?" he asks, reaching out to take her by the hand. "We can put on something nice and there's a real fancy place with the best lobster in town."

Yang isn't sure how to take it. She doesn't resist when his thumb brushes over her knuckles, but she summons a bit of bravery herself, stepping closer and resting a fist against her beating chest. "Is… this a date?"

She yelps when he pulls her in. He kisses her, drowns her tongue and melts their bodies together till she's flush against him and tugging at his hair. There's still fear in his eyes when they pull away, but there's a determination in there she's happy to see. "Is that answer enough?"

She giggles through the haze of her burning cheeks. "Plenty."

Then she's on him this time and tilting him backwards with her lips alone until he's just as hazy. Still, he doesn't expect it when she clambers onto his back and slips into a piggyback ride before she starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Hiya, noble steed! To the bike!" she cheers from her perch atop his head.

He's laughing too, even if he's huffing a little from the jog to Bumblebee. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't help it…" she whispers into his hair, excitement mixing into a bubbling cocktail with a giddiness she can't stop. "I'm happy."

#Jaune Arc #yang xiao long #jaune x yang #yang x jaune #rwby dragonslayer

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echotrinityme · 3 years

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You will be loved Chapter 11: The Wall

Since the incident between Charles and Calvin, things became tense between them. Charles refused to be in the same room as Calvin while Calvin feels depressed and guilty about what he did to Charles.

Galeforce was bewildered on why Charles was being hostile to Calvin until he heard what happened between them, he was absolutely furious that Calvin would do such a thing and he called him the tent to discuss on what's has happened. Calvin was worried he was getting discharged and so was Konrad.

He wasn't, he was given probation and a warning on never ever doing that to anyone again. He was also not allowed on missions until his probation, he thanked the General for not discharging him. He still felt guilty but every time he try to apologize to Charles, he always run away from him and avoids him.

Maybe he needs to give Charles some space, yeah that would work. He'll give him time to cool off. Meanwhile with Charles, he was doing some basic training with Rupert and Dave. He was helping Rupert train with Dave who still needs proper training to become as the same level as Rupert and Charles.

Dominic and Henry walked by them, Charles glanced at them and waved at Henry while he glared at Dom. Henry noticed the wave and he awkwardly waved back, however Dom tightened his grip on Henry and he quickly led him away from Charles while smirked at Charles. Soon after they left, things became rather tense.

"I really don't like that guy." said Charles, while he was grinding his teeth. Rupert and Dave nodded their heads in agreement.

"He has that smug aura." said Dave.

"He's a prick to be honest." said Rupert who was frowning.

Charles snickered at the comment, he also noticed how Henry seems uncomfortable when Dominic put his arm around him. It was like he didn't want it...which seems weird cause they were dating. Charles fell into a depression about that fact, he still feel like an idiot for allowing Calvin to manipulate him.

"Hey Charles?" asked Dave.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?" asked Dave in concerned.

Charles looked down on his sniper while he was cleaning it, he was feeling depressed and angry.

"Yeah." lied Charles.

Dave wasn't convinced at the answer but dropped the subject to respect his privacy. Rupert was worried for Charles and Henry, he also noticed Henry's strange behavior with Dominic. Like Charles, he did not like Dominic at all. He acts like he's all that and he annoys Rupert and Charles like a thorn on their side.

Dave's POV

I know Henry has caused me trouble before in the past, but despite what he has done I feel bad for him and Charles. I don't like Dominic, he seems...mean. He's got a charismatic aura and he acts like a dick towards to him, Rupert, and Charles.

I also feel sorry for Charles, Rupert told me what happened between him and Calvin. How can somebody do that to someone who already have feelings for someone else? Especially if both parties' feelings are mutual.

I hope Charles and Henry will get together someday...

No one's POV

Captain Victoria Grit was walking to the General's tent to report something when she passed by Dom and Henry, she stopped and turned around to see Dom holding Henry's waist hard like he was possessive of him. She knew they were a couple but something tells her Dom is treating him bad.

She once saw Dom bossing him around and belittling him in public, the words he always say to Henry makes her blood boil. If it weren't for her status as Captain she would have beat the shit out of him and risk the discharge.

She quickly got to the tent before she can start something, she went inside to find the General just sitting and about to stand up until he saw Victoria.

"Afternoon, Victoria." said Galeforce

"Afternoon, General." said Victoria while saluting him.

"At ease."

Victoria put her hand down and she reported her findings on suspicion activity about the Wall. The Wall was known to hold the most notorious and dangerous criminals, they were also known for their "morals". They have dubious ways running the prison, and treating their inmates like trash.

Back at Henry's Apartment

Dominic dragged Henry back to Henry's apartment to talk about what happened earlier with Charles, he shoved him on the sofa and he pace around the living room.

Henry sat on the sofa, he looked down at his feet while he was twiddling his fingers. He was scared on what Dom is gonna do to him, he said hi to Charles even though he promised to never talk to Charles.

"You know Henry." started Dominic while he was still pacing, making hand gestures.

"That guy, Charles...I don't like you anywhere near you."

Henry still had his head down but stopped twiddling his fingers, he looked up and gave Dom an apathetic look.

"I swept up your feet and you want to make me second rate, if I ever see or even smell a hint of Charles, I'll bury the two of you." threaten Dominic.

Henry was speechless, he never thought Dominic would go that far. He trembled in fear and sadness, he began to sobbed.

"Now there, there, Henry." cooed Dominic, he went by Henry's side to comfort him. He hugged him, murmuring sweet words even though they means more lies. Henry needs to escape from him, while Dom was distracted he grabbed Dom's coat by the neck and he put on the lamp hanging above the couch.

Dominic struggled to get out the coat while not to tear it, Henry ran out the door to get away from him. He doesn't know where he's going as long it's away from there, he kept running for a few minutes until he slow to a stop.

He looked around to find he's in a clearing not from the base and the town, he was trying to catch his breath until he felt a prick on his neck. He started to feel drowsy but before he lost consciousness he saw two eyes and smiles grinning down at him and then he lost consciousness.

When Henry woke up moments later, he was siting in a chair and his hands were in metal cuffs. He noticed there was a brown table in front of him and a silver ceiling lamp hanging above him.

"Well, Well, Well Henry, you were tough to find but we finally have you." said someone with a thick Russian accent.

Henry glanced up to find a Russian man with gray mustache and beard, he was sneering giving Henry a devious look on his face.

"My name is Dmitri Johannes Petrov, I'm the warden of the Wall and you will be staying here for a long time." said Dmitri with a wicked on his face.

Henry was dumbfounded, he stopped committing crimes after he got pardoned by the Government. Why are they catching him now? What's gonna happened to him? He heard the Wall is infamous for it's reputation on how they run things.

"Grigori, take him to his cell." commanded Dmitri.

"As you wish." said another voice behind Henry. Grigori Olyat was Dmitri's right hand man, he lead Henry not to a cell but a waiting room for prisoners who will have to wait cells to be available.

Grigori opened the door and throw Henry at the floor in the room.

"You wait here until cell found." said Grigori with a frown on his face. He closed the door and Henry inspected the room, he found another person in the room in him. She was sitting on the floor wearing the same shackles he's wearing.

She had red hair and had an emotionless look on her face, she didn't want to be here and neither does Henry. He glanced up at the ceiling to find an hatch opened, he looked back to the girl and back up at the hatch.

He felt himself giving a smug grin caused he had an idea.

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annhellsing · 4 years

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A Hundred Demons

notes: i accidentally deleted my other naraku fic so have some uhhh questionable romantic liaisons rating: teen, there’s some making out but nothing heavier pairing: naraku / reader word count: 1,796

You pry up the cellar door and flinch at the smell of decay. The castle festers at its core, exacerbated by Naraku’s transformation.

He detests this state, but the struggle of holding his body together is prolonged by denying it. His most precious asset is his ability to reforge flesh, And for this process he prefers to be alone. You know that. Still, you descend.

The smell is worse with your feet in the dirt. You’re careful not to grip the ladder too tightly, should your grip make the brittle wood crumble. You closed the hatch before climbing down, the only light now from the cracks around its edges.

It’s barely enough to make out the mass in the centre of the room, but your eyes adjust. A wriggling, pulsing thing blinks it’s single eye. Then, another tendril uncoils slowly, as if in sleep. Knotted together and writhing as one are a hundred demons.

At their centre is his head, bowed in sleep.

You feel a lurching sensation, a knee jerk reaction to the dirt in the cellar. It feels like old, dried blood beneath your feet. The corruption has seeped into the support beams of the cellar. You doubt the place would stand on its own if not for his magic.

Blinking slowly, you wait for the head to notice you. A demon’s maw lolls open, it’s fleshy tongue poking out at you before it also succumbs to sleep. Naraku’s body twitches unnaturally, and then his true head finally moves.

You see two red eyes beneath his black fringe. His skin is so pale, white in the shadows like a death mask. He sneers in your direction, seeing nothing but darkness and the faint outline of a person.

“Kagura?” he snarls. His eyesight is poor when he’s in pieces. Naraku inhales sharply, recognizing the new blood that woke him is human.

“No,” you reply, “it’s me.”

“Hm,” he grunts. It’s difficult to tell if he’s still angry. “I did not summon you.”

You shift your weight to your hip, hazarding to step closer. No doubt he’s irked at his sleep being interrupted, but you understand that his desires are always a double-edged sword. Regardless of your actions, it’s his natural state to be displeased.

“I missed you,” is the only excuse you can offer.

You half expect him to dismiss it as pathetic, but instead Naraku hides his shock beneath a grimace.

“I didn’t think you were foolish enough to disturb me as I regenerate,” he finally tries, though it lacks the bite you know he can have.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” your chin is still raised to look at him. But Naraku understands that it is at once both practical and an act of defiance. Despite that, he can’t bring himself to lash out.

Instead, he laughs. It’s like dark water, pulling you in a few more steps. You’re lulled into a half-way sense of safety, worried less for your own bodily health. Perhaps it’s too soon, you fear. But Naraku seems unwilling to pin you with cruelty.

“Of course, I suppose I am the one who disturbs,” he says, “at least, for the time being.”

His cheeks are gaunt and heavy bags hang under his eyes. He looks tired, his voice is barely more than a reedy breeze. He creaks more than he speaks. You move even closer, until your toes touch the edge of the mountain of demons.

Naraku’s head is supported by a nexus of thick, gray tubes. His hair is entwined with the cellar rafters. He is hideous, you can admit that, and yet you shake your head.

“Do I not terrify you?” he asks, sounding more amused than shocked or angered by your lack of reaction. He does so love fear. “Most can’t bear to look.”

“Have many people seen you like this?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. You kneel on the body of the demon at your feet, using it as a stepping stone to get to the second.

Naraku makes a dismissive noise, unwilling to grace your question with an answer. He lacks one that will prove his point, and that annoys him.

“I thought as much,” you reply, “Kagura’s opinion hardly counts, in that case.” The demons are foul to the touch, but you manage to climb them one by one. Naraku stays terribly still as you do so, waiting and watching to see what you’ll do.

“And yours does?” he asks. A hint of thank ink-black, cruel humour creeps into his voice again. Still, you don’t flinch. He wonders if you might wish to hear him laugh again.

“Generally yes,” you kneel on the back of a sturdier demon, your eyes at level with his. “As I’m your lover,” you’re close enough for him to smell your blood, and the hummingbird beat of your heart.

You’re fragile, he thinks. But then again, so is he. And you’re looking at him with the worst kind of adoration a creature like him can fathom. Still, in his chest that’s now in pieces on the cellar floor, his heart that was once human lurches in your direction.

“You make a compelling argument,” Naraku decides. There is still a sharpness in his eyes, and it comes from ugly fear. You’re close enough that in a single, violent motion he could be dead. And your knife could be bloody.

But you keep your hands on your knees, looking at him with your head tilted. You move slowly, as if you know exactly what he’s afraid of. Maybe he has a right to be unnerved by this, but that won’t make you stop.

You lift your hands and put them on his cheeks, wiping dirt and grime from his face. His thin lips turn up into a smirk. He is a monster, a hateful, terrifying beast of hell and still you lean in to kiss him.

Your lips are human and soft. You’re warmed through, not disquietingly clammy the way he is. But you seem not to notice. You seem to reach through the haze of evil energy and the smell of decay to find the spark of heat belonging to Onigumo. That bit of life that makes you love him so.

He drags his tongue across your bottom lip, demanding out of habit that he be granted entry. Naraku gets what he wants, he’s used to that. So when you press your mouth closed, making a tight seal that his sharp teeth can’t break-- his eyes open.

“Did you come here only to torment me?” he asks, pulling away enough to be coherent. But he’s still so close.

He’s never felt more like an insect than when chasing your warmth. Naraku has looked on at moths flying headlong to their death, toward fire and now he understands why. It’s addictive, your humanity. It’s like a song that he could fall into.

He wishes he had arms, that’s what the longing in his displaced chest is telling him. He’ll wrap you up and keep you with him for hours when he’s finished remaking his body. And you won’t be able to deny him a thing.

But for now, you look at him with an amused expression he does not appreciate. You have ideas above your station and too little fear for his taste. At least, until you press your lips to his again.

It seems you grant him permission to deepen the kiss now, though he doesn’t know what’s changed. He’s the same as he was a minute ago, just as breathless and horrible to behold. Perhaps you simply wanted to prove you could control him.

That thought is simultaneously gut-wrenching and delicious. Naraku doesn’t know which is worse.

The smell of rot doesn’t register as pervasively, you notice. You put your hands in his long, black hair and drag his severed head against your mouth. Your fingers brush gray-mottled tendons and pale flesh.

He’s making decisions about which parts of him to keep even as he accepts your kiss, but he’s working a lot slower than before you arrived.

You have a nice time ruining his solitary confinement, sneaking kisses over his cold flesh. You try your best to warm him, he realizes, and the sentiment is unhelpfully pleasant. He loses count of how many times he needs to reconsider his decision to discard part of himself, you’re a beautiful distraction.

“I’m inhibiting you,” you say when you finally pause to breathe. He mirrors the action, struck very suddenly by how distant the need to do so was with your mouth to his jaw.

“Deeply,” he replies.

“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head. “I really did miss you.”

“If it would please you,” he begins, making you lift your head, “you may stay a while longer.”

“It would please me,” you reply. You kiss the corner of his mouth, moving too quickly for his poor vision to see. “I’ll be still as a mouse so you can be done sooner.”

Naraku closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before nodding. You can feel a shift in the cellar as he goes back to sleep. So much for parting remarks, you suppose. But he isn’t one for affection, especially not when vulnerable.

You sit back on your knees, watching his severed head hang from the rafters. And the sight, to your intense displeasure, inspires no fear. You know what he is, who he is, and still you make yourself comfortable.

Somewhere in the space between Naraku regrowing his neck and shoulders, you too succumb to sleep. The dark, cool cellar fades away, as does the smell of rot. You lean against the old wooden wall, the demons underfoot don’t bother you.

By nightfall, he’s finished. And you, his lover, lie curled up on the packed earth. His body is as it was, but now it’s much stronger. He feels better, more in control and sturdy. As much as he would like to look down on you with vague disgust brewing in his now rightly-placed heart, he can’t.

You’re roused hours later, somewhere just as dark but less oppressively macabre. You’re not in the cellar any more, you know by the smell. The wet, old air is cleaner in this new place.

Your fingers brush the floor, no longer made of packed earth. It’s tatami, you realize, the same tatami found in Naraku’s private chamber.

Sitting up, you realize how warm you are in this new place. Even in the blue-dark, you can’t feel anyone else’s eyes on you. You’re alone.

You look down next, wondering what’s covering you. You didn’t bring anything when you climbed down the ladder. But thrown over your chest, undisturbed by your heavy sleep is a white cloak of baboon fur.

#naraku #naraku x reader #inuyasha #inuyasha fic #anniewrites #this gets Bad near the end i'm sorry #i ran out of wenergy

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fandom-blackhole · 4 years

Text

Hayloft- Ezra x Reader

AN: hahahahahahah hello.....So I know that have have shit I was supposed to write but life has taken every bit of creativity from me so I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually write those. So I am sorry if you have been waiting forever for me to post a story. I’ve also made the decision to close my requests indefinitely unless I change my mind because I just don’t do well with them, sorry. BUT, I struck gold and got the idea for this fic and before I lost the inspo I wrote like a mad man all yesterday! So I do hope you enjoy! And yes, I did get the idea while listening to Hayloft by Mother Mother

Also this is going to be a two part story, I am currently working on the second part and it should be posted tomorrow morning most likely. And I made a playlist, if you’d like to listen to it (I am open to song suggestions to be added!)

Ao3 Link

Masterlist

Words: 3.1k (this a beast for me lol)

Warnings?: not really, AFAB reader, mentions of a stroke, Ezra’s charm (that needs a warning), bad poetry formatting (sorry tumblr destroyed how I had it in my Doc)

The itchy scratchy feeling of the hay digging through my nightwear was worth every uncomfortable second if it meant I could continue to sit here and listen to the man across from me, with his eyes that held galaxies and voice the carried the lilt of the most wonderful song, with that unplaceable accent. He was worth being tired in the morning from staying up all night up here in the loft of my family’s small barn. He was worth all the sneaking around and small meaningful glances sent each other’s way when no one else was paying attention, the brushing of hands when handing something to the other. I wouldn’t change anything about this unless it meant the small glances or the gentle brushing against each other didn’t have to be hidden from the others, if it meant that I could just be with the hypnotic man across from me with his hair as dark as the freshly tilled ground at the being of a harvest minus that one soft looking patch as white as a newly hatched chick’s down and a smile so crooked and white that it felt almost as if he was casting a spell over my very heart and soul. He was worth the pain of picking hay from my hair and clothes in the morning when I have to sneak back into the farmhouse, while already missing the touch of his rough and calloused but gentle hand. It was all worth every bit as long as he helped me forget everything just for the time being.

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Living on K-5 was rather simple. The planet was neither big nor small and it was known for its fertile soil that could grow just about any plant whether it was native to the world or not and once one harvest season had finished the other started as the weather always was spring-like with perfect growing conditions. Not many came to stay and those who did worked their entire life in planets many fields of harvest. To the few that actually knew the name of the forgettable planet called it the bread box of the known universe. Though the planet was known to very few people throughout space, the planet’s harvests could be found on just about any other planet or moon feeding just about everyone.

The farmers of K-5 were known to have bigger families on the premise of needing hands to work the land for food of their own and for money. The farmers also knew that most of their children would leave the planet and look for better elsewhere, and would hope beyond hope that at least one of their children would settle on the sad planet and continue working their farm. Though if luck would have it there might come a ship every so often with people willing to lend hands and work the land if they were compensated well enough. Most that came were floaters looking for something to do in between prospecting jobs, others were looking for a quiet place to finally settle after a long life.

My father had been one of 12 brothers and he was the only one to stay and take over the meager farmer his father and his father’s father had set up on a small corner of the planet. My father never really talked about his siblings, only ever calling them stupid for leaving the haven that was K-5 for a world they had no place to be in. My mother had been brought here by her mother, who had been a floater. They had made acquaintances with a farmer a town or so over and had lived there as farmhands as that family’s children started dwindling as they left. I have been told that my mother had a fire to her that no other on the planet had, that she was a woman of grace and humility, which is rare in space these days, something I was told I inherited though I’m not so sure I believe. We were a small family, I had two older brothers, twins identical in only their looks. Joshua, a dreamer as my father put it spitefully saying he inherited that from our mother, while his brother Anthony took after our father with his pessimistic view of everything including the world outside of our farm and K-5. I always counted Joshua lucky, he was able to sneak out of our small farmhouse late one night only leaving a note on my bedside table saying goodbye as he left one of the few ships to land on our soil. Father always resented me much like he did Joshua for multiple reasons, one of them being that it was the reason mother had passed, as Anthony informed me one night when asked, another reason being that I supposedly looked like a carbon copy of her, as I was told by the few farmers that remembered her, and lastly and most importantly was my fascination with the outside world. He hated that “Joshua did nothing but fill your head with fantasies.” He hated that because of our small family we needed all the farmhands we could get and that I would always sit with them listening to anything they would tell me, though few would say much as the floaters tended to be a quiet breed, preferring to keep to themselves.

In our town, the floaters and drifters were usually pointed to our farm when looking for work and usually met with my father before I ever had a chance to meet them, most ignoring me throughout their short stay, anyway. If we were lucky we would get one or two by the time harvesting or planting time had come around and they were always roomed in Joshua’s old room, now cramped from shoving multiple cots into the room rather than one small bed. The room was furthest from mine, which made it hard to sneak into to and talk with those who were willing to feed my curiosities. Having been caught and reprimanded enough times by both father and Anthony I had to learn how to be light-footed and sneak around unseen, though I believe that after awhile Anthony has given up on trying to ‘knock some sense’ into me and just doesn’t try anymore.

Life was the same for me day in and day out nothing much changing other than the faces and names of the floaters staying on our humble farm. Excitement in our corner of space was far and few between, leading me to seek it out through any means possible, and more often than not it was the few books I was able to get my hands on them being rare as they were, were exceptionally hard to find new stories. Though luck would have it, I was able to get my hands on three battered books whose covers were so worn and dirtied over the years that any image or words depicted were hardly seen. Of everything on my solemn planet, these were what kept me sane, even if I had read and reread each dozens of times. Though their covers were faded, the titles were imprinted in my mind. I treasured my well-loved copies of Pride and Prejudice, The Hobbit, and Frankenstein and kept them close to my heart while also hiding them from my father for fear of how he’d react to them. Though I love every book I owned, it was the newest in my collection that meant the most to me, for it was the first thing that brought the man I long for and I together, a rather small but thick copy of a collection of poems and stories written by Edgar Allen Poe.

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Waking up on Saturdays were the only time when I didn’t mind having to roll out of bed and deal with the early hour chill. Saturdays were the days that I got sent to town to collect groceries and odds and ends for the farm from the weekend markets. Father learned early on that I had the same touch as my mother when I came to finding the best bargains and deals, so he began sending me in his stead while he and Anthony ran other errands or helped the current farmhands do morning chores.

This Saturday wasn’t much different, upon waking and changing into the day’s clothes, I pulled my hair out of my face before stepping out of my room to head to the kitchen to find the list of what was needed on the counter along with the money needed. As usual, I went through my Saturday routine of making a thermos of coffee before pocketing the money and grabbing my bag. I slip my thermos into the side pocket of the bag as I slip the strap over my shoulder, before grabbing the list and scanning the contents as I walked to where my boots were stored next to the door. While glancing through the list, I started to slide my boots on before stopping. In a small section at the bottom were a few items that were reserved only for the few saturdays that the supply ship stopped in our area of the planet, which was very rare if ever. The supply ships were sent to the planet every couple of months with limited supplies and it landed in certain areas to sell what ever cargo it had brought, only to leave when empty. Only the ships usually were emptied after the first two or three stops and this area was usually one of the last stops, making the ships rare and highly sought after in the area. So the fact that our area was finally getting a ship after almost a year and a half without one was a huge deal. A rather large part of me hoped that there would be floaters on the ship willing to be hired out for farm work, especially since the lack of a ship has made my small family have to tend our meager fame with only the three of us because of the lack of farmhands.

Upon arrival, the town was already bustling with life. Quickening my pace, I went to the center of the town where the new supplies always were held, and upon arriving I made quick work of crossing off everything on the list in hopes of having time to browse for myself. Luck seemed to have shown mercy down on me today as everyone I talked to was fair in prices and after crossing the last item off the long list I still had enough money to buy something for myself and give father change without him being any wiser. Smiling I chatted with a few townspeople and other farmers as I browsed the market, and as I came to the last stall I had yet to look in the market. Having near given up and about to turn from the stall, my eye caught something that had fallen from the makeshift table. Upon picking it up I nearly cried with joy having found what I could only hope to be the next tattered book to add to my collection. Flipping the book over in my hands and flipping through the pages my smile grew as I called the seller over. We haggled the price for a couple of minutes before he accepted my offer with a murmur and taking the money and while turning to begin my journey back to the farm I heard my name being called a couple of stalls over. Looking up, I smiled politely when I noticed it was Mrs.Robertson, taking a deep breath and sighing it back out before making my way slowly over to where she stood.

Mrs.Robertson was a stout woman that had a smile that never seemed to leave her face. She was a lovely woman whose lemon pound cake was well-known amongst the area’s farmers and always had a warm cup of tea and an open ear for whoever walked through her kitchen door, even after her stroke that took all mobility in her left arm. While I have always enjoyed her company, especially as a child when I was longing for a mother figure, recently talking with her always ended with her trying to push her oldest son and I together. Her oldest and youngest sons were the only two of her five children to stay on the planet, and while her youngest had already married and had a couple of children, her oldest didn’t seem to have interest in doing the same, even if she swears that he infatuated with me. Father continuously tells me that he thinks the marriage would be a good idea, even as I tell him it wouldn’t work between the two of us.

So as I walk over to her and give her a hug in greeting I prepare myself for another attempt at matchmaking. Instead after parting from the one-handed hug, she had given me she motioned over her shoulder to a man who was standing there with a crooked smile that seemed to hold every last bit of charm left in the universe, and Mrs. Robertson, without missing a beat spoke up, “I was just explaining to this lovely newcomer that your father is always looking for new people to help with the farm and was just about to point him in your farm’s direction when I noticed you,” as Mrs.Robertson continued to rattle on I took the chance to glance back to the man behind her, only to find that his woefully dark eyes were still watching me with more mirth than I had seen in years. Looking back to Mrs.Robertson quickly hoping that no redness would grace my cheeks, though I knew it was there anyway. She quickly stepped aside and motioned to me introducing me before the man, if at all possible, smiled wider and stuck out his hand introducing himself as Ezra. As I stuck out my hand to shake his I opened my mouth to give him a polite reply only to be shocked into silence when instead of shaking my offered hand he raised it to his shining smile and graced the back of my hand with a kiss. Now I was absolutely certain that there was red dancing across my cheeks, if not my ears as well. Not able to take returning the gaze the man, I know knew to be Ezra, seemed to be piercing my very soul with I turned to Mrs.Robertson, thanking her and wishing her well before turning to Ezra who was still watching me and giving him a shy smile and tilting my head in a motion as to say ‘follow me’.

Ezra seemed to be quiet as we walked throughout the town head back towards the farm, though that might have been because the small talk and greetings that were being thrown my way from those from the area that I was friendly with. When we finally broke from the town and the only sound was the dwindling chatter of the market and buzzing of the local wildlife. Though I was startled to a stop from the previous silence by the man as he spoke melodically and seemingly wit purpose,

“In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed; But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things around him, with a ray Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream, that holy dream, While all the world was chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night, So trembled from afar― What could there be more purely bright In Truth’s day-star?”

Having turned to face the man confused, but noticing he was looking towards the sky with a smile, though one smaller than the one he was sporting when you both had made your introductions with each other, this one seeming more blissful rather than purposefully charming. It was only now though that I noticed the absence of his right arm as his left was moved to his face to shield his eyes from the ever glowing sun. Turning his head back to look at me, his smiled widened again before noticing my slight confusion.

“Sorry flower but I couldn’t help but to notice the collection of stories and poems in your hand there, and thought to quote a poem by our dear morose friend Poe. I find his works to be a tad too depressing for my likes but somethings just stick with your very person,” Ezra drawled before sticking his hand out, “May I?”

Unable to really respond as I was still in slight shock I was only able to nod and pass the book over. Where upon gracing his fingers Ezra was able to skillfully thrumb through the book, mumbling quietly to himself with a smile, “It has been quite sometime since I have been able to visit our friend Poe here or any of my other long dead friends I’m afraid,” he paused for only a moment sticking the tip of his tongue between his lips before giving a small quiet winning cry, “ Ah hah! Here you go, ‘A Dream’ by the one and only Edgar Allan Poe.”

Handing the book back with it open on a specific page and there it was, the poem in which he had just quoted in full. Smiling down at the page, before looking back at him with a somewhat astonished look I dog eared the page before sliding it into the bottom of my bag, “No one else around here really reads anymore. At this point I thought I was the last one in the universe to do so. It….it would be nice to actually talk about reading with someone, though regretfully I just met Poe today so we are not quite as well acquainted as you two seem to be,” looking back up with a smirk and remembering my thermos I grab it out of my bag before lifting it up in offering. “Coffee? Its not quite hot anymore but it is probably still warm.”

With his ever wide smile, Ezra stepped up next to me as I slid my bag back into place and gave a small polite nod, “I would love to do nothing more than share what I am sure is the perfect brew with you, darling flower.”

(If you want to be tagged in part two, let me know in my inbox! Also if enough people are interested I am thinking about opening my inbox to talk and expand on this world I’ve created? Anyways I hope you enjoyed! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are always appreciated!! Much love and Happy 2021!)

(Also if you figured out what I based the planet I created off of please tell me, I’d like to see obvious I made it lol. And if you’d like a hint it’s in the USA)

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra (prospect) x you #Pedro Pascal #Prospect #ezra x female reader #the second part may have a little spice #considering the song i based this off of #but not alot bc i have found I suck at smut #but it might be hinted at or briefly described?#anyway i am kinda happy to be back writing wise #ive missed this

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brandywine-tomatoes · 3 years

Text

A War without a Winning Side - Pt. 1

Prompt was from a while ago, I think @icedcoffee101 helped create the inspo for this.

Masterlist

TW: sad/depressing thoughts, questioning existence for a hot second, Ahsoka just wanting to take a peaceful nap, Rex needing a fucking break.

Word count: 1571

Prompt/Inso: basically 'bicker fest 2021 with maul, ahsoka, and rex when they're forced to work together'

QUICK NOTE: this is just part 1! I will continue this at some point and there will be loads of bickering at some point, I promise.

The Tatooine suns could probably cook a person alive if they stood out there too long, and Rex just might become a scrambled egg if he had to wait beside the Hutt palace entrance any longer. He wanted so desperately to take off his helmet and drop-kick it into the desert, but disguises had to be kept and suspicions had to remain low.

When his commander finally walked out with a thick scarf covering most of her face, the suns were dipping below the horizon and a humid breeze set in for the night.

Ahsoka walked towards him, signalling for him to start ahead of her. They walked in silence to the ship, not entirely trusting of the Hutts not to send someone after them for the Imperial credits their lives were worth. The sand crunching beneath their boots and the faint sounds of a party behind them were all that filled the silence.

It was incredibly humid, even as the twin suns disappeared and with a slight breeze in place, Rex couldn’t wait to be back in sub-zero space among the stars.

Ahsoka typed in the key code to open the hatch and the two practically ran up the ladder into the ship to turn on the cooling system. They closed the hatch and soon enough, they were flying across the sky and were moving through hyperspace to their next destination.

They found themselves enjoying the silence and white noise of the engine, Ahsoka deep in thought while fiddling with her fingerless gloves and Rex trying to re-wire the hyperspace fuel gauge.

“So are they’re not sending us into Imperial space like we thought they would?” Rex finally asked.

“No, they’re sending us to...” Ahsoka pulled a slip of crumpled paper from a leather pouch and smoothed it out. “Dandoran. Jaba doesn’t trust the comm channels right now and he needs messengers. Apparently that job with the Pykes bought us goodwill,” she spoke grimly.

“We’re soldiers of the Republic and we have goodwill with crime syndicates,” Rex sighed.

“It’s only temporary. There aren’t many ways to make credits in Hutt space.”

“Then we leave, easy as that.”

Ahsoka leaned back in the pilot's chair, her exhausted eyes looking out over the streaks of stars parting for their ship. “You know we can’t risk it. We’ve made it 15 rotations, we can make it 15 more.”

“Whatever you say, commander.”

Ahsoka winced. “I’m not your commander, we’re not soldiers anymore.”

Rex blinked. He hadn’t had time to think about his service to the Republic, how it was no longer needed. He wasn’t really needed. His only purpose was to serve the Republic, serve his superiors in a war he was created to fight in. And he even failed at that. He didn’t have a purpose anymore, he wasn’t useful. Why was he even trying to survive-

“Don’t go down that path, Rex,” Ahsoka said, her words weighted. Her eyes closed and her face relaxed, the light from the tunnel refracting off her tired expression.

“How did you-” He stopped himself. “The Force... thing.”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t need to use the force to know what’s going through your head.”

Rex dragged a hand down his face. Of course she’d know. Both of their lives were forged for a war that would never have a winning side.

“Whatever you say, Ahsoka.”

They stayed in their seats for most of the journey to Dandoran, though they periodically tried to sleep in the small bunk cots tucked away in a storage closet. But the smell of blaster fire and the weight of the hundreds they tried to save on that Star Cruiser kept the adrenalin running and their cheeks wet with tears.

Ahsoka’s knees were up to her chin with a datapad keeping her occupied while Rex was reattaching his shoulder plates when the ship came out of hyperspace, gliding towards the vibrant green and blue planet.

“Thank the force it’s not a desert planet,” Rex commented, reaching over the co-pilot's yoke to press a series of buttons and switches to prepare the ship for landing.

Ahsoka smiled. “Anakin would say the same thing...”

The atmosphere plummeted once again at the mention of their fallen brother. Whatever smirk or smile there was disappeared.

The ship flew above the tall, green canopy of dense trees, the small and scattered lakes making it difficult to find the landing pad.

“You’d think they’d chop a couple of these damn trees down,” Rex grumbled, finally seeing the grey pavement and directing Ahsoka to it.

“The more cover, the more crimes you can get away with I guess,” she mused.

Once they triple-checked the ship was in order and Rex adorned his helmet, they climbed the ladder out of the top of the ship and were greeted by four raised blasters from various beings, most likely Marlo Hutt’s personal security.

Ahsoka and Rex climbed down the ladder slowly and raised their hands in surrender when they faced the blasters.

“What business?” The blue-toned twi’lekk sneered with a heavy huttese accent, the blaster aimed at Ahsoka perfectly still.

“Jabba sent us, we’re his new messengers,” she calmly replied.

“The republic deserters?” He asked, amused. Rex fought back the urge to pummel him. “We’ve heard a lot about you two. Right this way, Marlo hates waiting.”

Rex and Ahsoka shared a look before following the twi’lekk across the overgrown pavement and throw the sliding steel door of a short and wide sandstone building, the rest of Marlo’s security following after them with their blasters at the ready.

They walked through a small and dark hall before the twi’lekk stopped at the entrance to a large open space, a group of singers under an archway to the left were softly singing and a small crowd of different beings filled the other side of the room, not so much paying attention to the entertainment but more so the large Hutt smoking a huge cigar, slithering from one end to the other to have a chat with all the guests.

“Wait here,” the twi’lekk sneered at the two behind him.

The guests parted to let him pass and promptly started whispering to the people around them after seeing a clone trooper in full armour under a large poncho and a togruta who looked like she’d seen too much. Marlo and the twi’lekk whispered discretely, the large slug occasionally puffing out a cloud of smoke and viciously coughing.

The Hutt held up a large hand to his security guard, silencing him, and slithered to the doorway where Rex and Ahsoka had leant against, the heat cooking the foul smells in the small room, making it near unbearable for both of them.

“Jaba’s getting desperate then,” his deep voice heavily accented in huttese. Ahsoka clasped her hands behind her back, trying to silence the want to wave a hand in front of her nose.

“He says he’s being cautious, the Empire is-” She started.

“I know why, togruta. Come forward, give me the message,” he gestured to her to come forward. The tip of a blaster dug into her back as she was pushed forward by someone behind her. She stumbled down the half step and regained her stance quickly. She hesitantly walked closer to the foul-smelling Hutt and swallowed thickly, trying to repress a cough.

Rex had rested his arm on the blaster under his poncho, though he doubted he would survive if he used it. His friend currently speaking in a low voice with Marlo nodding from time to time surely wouldn’t either.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, the tension in the room rising every second. Whispers, the occasional short laugh, and the visibly confused singers humming to a beat were all that filled the sandy room.

Sunlight spread through the small holes in the walls, probably resulted from past quarrels, and a soft, salty breeze blew through every once in a while, giving everyone present a few seconds of breathable air. It was miraculous the guests didn’t leave from pure boredom, but Rex guessed being invited to a crime boss's party meant you left when they said so.

Ahsoka stepped back and bowed to Marlo at last, turning back to Rex with a look of relief and her hands still clasped behind her back. He pushed himself off the wall and turned to leave, the singers seemed to re-group and started singing lively tunes again.

“Wait!”

The room seemed to stop altogether this time. Rex and Ahsoka readied themselves for a fight.

“Yes?” Ahsoka sliced the silence.

“Jaba requested a dathomirians presence at his palace, I’m sure you can provide transport.”

“We have a very small ship-”

“Nonsense! My guards say it’s big enough for at least 3,” he waved them off. “Jaba will pay extra.”

“Who’s the cargo?” Rex asked.

“The clone speaks! You will certainly know him, he’s killed many of your kind.”

Rex’s heart rate spiked. He was in trouble, he shouldn’t have come, he should’ve stayed on the ship.

“And I’d gladly kill many more.”

The familiar dark voice silenced any doubts and ignited a hatred in the clone.

He walked towards Marlo from the back corner of the room, flipping off the hood that concealed his tattooed face.

He chuckled at the sight of Ahsoka’s paled face.

“You don’t have the benefit of gravity anymore, padawan.”

A/N: hello all you lovely lovely people!! I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long yes i did for this fic, I've mentioned it a couple times in other A/Ns on fics. This took literal weeks to write, I had so much trouble trying to write such a small part of this soon-to-be series, but I'm glad the first part is done and now I can get to the bickering >:)

ANYWAYS, go drink some water, have a snack, take a break, you deserve it so much bestie, I'm so proud of you for getting this far <3 !!

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