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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

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so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe

I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)

Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?

Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.

You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…

Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.

You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.

And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.

He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.

“Welcome back, baby.”

His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.

“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.

“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.

He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.

“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.

You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.

“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”

You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.

“You want it like this tonight?”

You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”

“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.

He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.

“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.

You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.

His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.

He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”

That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.

“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.

“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.

He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.

You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”

His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.

“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.

Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”

He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking

You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.

“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”

“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.

He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.

“Honey? You alright?”

You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.

And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.

“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.

His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.

Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.

“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”

“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”

“But you’re tensing on me —“

“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”

His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.

Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.

“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.

“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.

And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.

// eat me paragraph //

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astroboots · 6 months

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*oliver twists voice*

“Please sir may I please have some more?”

hamster steven 🥺 my little sister asks for updates all the time lol

Series Masterlist | Moon Knight Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

A/N: omg nonny! this is the world's most effective way to make me write more Hamsteven content! How could I ever deny your little sister... and a Charles Dickens reference?!?!? Aye aye!

Summary: You try to create a special meal for Hamster Steven so he can regain some normalcy.

You will be the first one to admit that you spend way too much time on tiktok. It's a slippery slope, and ever since you looked up tutorials on hamster care tips, your FYP seems to have picked up on the trail and now every two videos you flick through is hamster related.

Hamsters in tiny teddybear hats. Hamsters put in elaborate escape labyrinths, Crystal Maze style. Hamsters being treated to miniature meals inspired by human meals.

The internet is a wild place.

There's a squeaky noise next to you on the pillow that interrupts you just as you are about to scroll onto the next video.

You peer up from your screen, to see the big shiny eyes of your boyfriend-turned-hamster, standing on his hind-legs, as he's staring back at you. You're not sure if it's just your imagination, but he doesn't look happy. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was giving you the stinkeye you for spending so much time on tiktok.

You glance up at the clock on the corner of your phone. 00:51.

Okay, maybe it's not just your imagination. You've somehow unwittingly spent more than two hours on your phone, without paying attention. Steven is definitely judging you for that.

"Sorry, Steven. I must've lost track of time," you tell him, and at your apology he lowers himself back on all four paws, waddling over to your chest and curls himself up on the curve of your breast.

It's become his favorite spot to rest... certain things don't change regardless of what form he takes.

You run two fingers over his head, stroking the soft fur and he seems to melt at the touch, the round shape of him going flat with relaxation. It's adorable. Steven has always been fond of having his hair stroked like a particularly cuddly pet.

It really does seem like certain things haven't changed much at all despite his transformation into a hamster.

... Except, that's not really true though is it.

In the past few days since Steven has turned into a pet, his limitations has been more than apparent. Because of his tiny size, he's in constant danger.

You had left the window open to air out the flat while you were cleaning, only to have a particularly menacing seagull make a dive for him and had to chase it out with a flyswatter so it wouldn't devour your boyfriend whole.

In his current form he's not quite able to do any of the activities that he normally enjoys, reading is out of the question, even if he could turn his own pages (which is difficult when you do not have opposing thumbs or no grip) you're not sure what his vision must be like, the letters must read gigantic to him.

He doesn't seem to particularly enjoy the yoghurt drops you got him from the pet store, and the enthusiasm he had at first for the almonds and walnuts you'd given him seems to be waning and on more than one occasion you've caught the wistful and longing gaze Steven has had on his expression when you sit down for a meal by the table that he couldn't partake.

But ramen doesn't really seem fit for a hamster's diet, so you could hardly give him a taste.

Poor Steven has had little to no normalcy left since his transformation and as the days go by and the solution to his dilemma isn't anywhere near in sight, you feel a pang of sadness for him.

Absentmindedly, you continue to pet his fur as you pull up your phone again and scroll through the videos when your eyes linger over the video you saw earlier of a hamster being treated to miniature spaghetti meal.

The video has a full on painstakingly detailed tutorial, step by step, on how to make the tiny meal. Cutting regular sized spaghetti into tiny lengths, Sizzling small portions of minced meat on the frying pan and huh... who knew that hamster are actually omnivores, and likes eating meat... you always assumed they were vegetarians. In the video, the person takes two cherry tomatoes puts them through the blender for the sauce and it all looks rather simple.

You look down at Steven in his hamster form, sound asleep on your chest. He's curled up into a little ball, his nose and whiskers twitching in his sleep as his hind leg kicks back in response to whatever dream he's dreaming.

Adorable as he is, the pang of sadness from before returns as your chest constricts. You want to give him a sense of normalcy after everything he's been through. However small.

Carefully, you scoop him up in the cup of your hands and place him gently on the pillow. Luckily Steven is a sound sleeper and sleeps right through it as you move into the kitchen to prepare the meal according to the video instructions.

There's leftover spaghetti in the fridge, saving you from having to boil it fresh. You forego frying any meat, because even though hamsters may be omnivores, your Hamster Steven is a full blooded vegan.

You also decide to forego the blender. It's late and you don't want to wake up Steven so instead you end up trying to smash up the cherry tomatoes with a mortal and pestle that leaves an absolute mess.

With your sad attempts at a culinary effort completed, you pick up the tiniest little sauce bowl you can find in the cupboard, as you start to plate up the spaghetti and mashed tomato sauce, topping it off with fresh basil that you had luckily picked up from Sainsbury the other day.

It looks nowhere as good as the video, just looks like wilted spaghetti with a tiny pile of crushed tomatoes rather than a miniature version of spaghetti bolognese. but you guess that's why you're an office worker and not a hamster content creator. You try to tease the spaghetti back into place with your fingers until it looks a bit more decent.

Better.

But it's still a long way to go from the special dinner that you had wanted to make for Steven to make him feel pampered.

Turning to the kitchen drawers, you try to find the small tea candles to set the mood. It's as near a romantic ambient as you are able to create for Steven.

Then you find one of the nicer dinner napkins stowed away in the back of the drawer and set the table. While you're at it you grab several sprigs of rosemary and whatever fresh herbs you're able to find in the fridge and set them in a shot glass that you use as an impromptu mini vase, for the bouquet of herbs you have gathered. You place down your creation in the middle of the table, then you stand back admiring your work.

Not too shabby.

Almost looks like a tiny hamster restaurant.

You return to your bed, where you had left Steven to sleep. Paws still twitching peacefully in his sleep when you gently wake him by picking him up, and set him on the table.

He blinks slowly and blearily, sleep still clouding his gaze, not fully taking in what you are trying to show him. It takes a few moments, until his eyes clear and then they go wide at the meal in front of him and he darts forward like a sprint.

His little paws grabs at the straw of spaghetti voraciously, as he slurps up the spaghetti, flecks of red sauce painting the fur around his mouth. He eats it with an enthusiastic frenzy, gobbling up the whole of it and drops it in his excitement only to round the plate and pick it up again to eat the remainder.

"Is it good?"

His head pops up to meet your face, with the tiniest of nods.

He squeaks happily, then he dives right back into stuffing his face and you can't help but smile.

It's a little moment of normalcy even in this craziness and that's good enough for now.

Dedications & Credits: To my lovely @guruan / @guruan-is-not-here who has finally been freed from tumblr jail. This chapter is dedicated to her because she sent me the cutest video of a hamster having a tiny bowl of pasta and sitting on a chair like it was a restaurant.

#🐹 hamsteven #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marvel mcu #oscar isaac

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cerastes · 7 months

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Hey. It's been a while. I think it's right to update you on stuff so tl;dr I'm probably not going to be around for some time, and if I am, it'll be in a diminished capacity, but if you're interested, do check under the cut. I'll also immediately state that I am not in any dangerous situation, it's other stuff, but I'll immediately dispel that before the cut just in case you just wanted to know that in particular.

Let's talk for a bit.

Long story short, the economy here is in shambles. The idea was for me to already have a new job, but that's not gone according to plan. I've been eating into my savings for a while now, and the people that told me that I had a job lined up for me September or at the latest October, meaning, this month, have been ghosting me. It seems to not be an option anymore, and no explanation was ever given to me. A shame, because it came from a place of relative trust.

This has eaten away at my nerves somewhat, and though it is the month of my birthday, I can't help but notice that, between the economy being this bad here, how hard it's been to land another job, and the fact that I'm eating into my savings, well, it's got me more than a bit worried. I'm not in any immediate danger of losing the roof over my head, or starving, or anything like that, but after a few months of "well, my savings take yet another hit this month with no end in sight", it's been rather rough, you'll understand, and it's compounded a bit. For just a second, and not as a primary, secondary, or even tertiary plan, more like a twenty-eighth measure if anything, I did entertain the dark idea of maybe asking for a bit of help here, and the moment that thought came up, I realized, "Ok, this is truly and well affecting me, I never want to do that", because, again, it's not like I'm in any immediate danger of homelessness or anything that grave, but it's been weighting on me enough that, even as a distant glint in the horizon of an idea, I did consider it. I don't want to sound like I'm blowing my own horn here, but for over a decade that I've had this blog, and the community/following/whatever you want to call it that has grown around it, I've never once asked for something like monetary help, because I think that can be a slippery slope. I've seen people far bigger than me, and some smaller, too, get addicted to asking for donations or help, or simply start taking it for granted when they ask for such a thing. My friends will tell you I writhe in agony when I receive a gift such as a game or something over the mail. My logic is that I don't need it, not in a proud way, but rather, in a "I wish you would spend this money on yourself instead, or on someone that truly needed it". With this in mind, I realized that, for me to even slightly consider that as an option, for the first time in my life, it meant that it was biting away at me far, far more severely than I thought. It's translated to other parts of my life as of late; I've not been depressed or anything, but I've felt this itch, this remarkably implacable feeling of "my man, you don't deserve to be taking it easy right now, something has to change, progress needs to be made".

I went out to wander for a few days, then arrived at my cousin's farm. He and his wife live a humble, hard working life, he invited me to stay for a while, I accepted, it was real nice, we hanged out, went exploring creeks and mountainsides while knocking back a few beers, the whole shebang for two guys that grew up in the middle of nowhere. Anyhow, it's true that the whole exposition that was the previous paragraph is something at play, but I also just... Haven't really wanted to be online at all. I don't want to check anything, read anything, and I feel a deep sense of alienation that I've not really felt in a long time. I suppose this is one of those good ol' Bro Is Going Through It, if we're to summarize it in a few words. It's easy for me to dispel negative thoughts and bounce back normally, because I've done a great deal of personal building and homework on knowing myself inside out, but not even this black belt in Drimobrain has helped this time around, and well, it bothers me, obviously, bwahaha. It's the first time in a few years that I really sincerely do not understand what's up with me, and while it's not really something I would consider me being rock bottom or anywhere near those depths, I do think I'm still below surface level, which is something I don't admit to easily, but have no choice to. I would love to be able to give this malaise shape and firmness through written or spoken word, but right now, it's a work in progress.

What bothers me the most is the sense of alienation I spoke of before: It makes no sense for me to feel this way, I'm treated with love and kindness every day, no one's silencing me in any way, I don't deal with barbs or hostility. So why is it that that's how I feel? Or perhaps it's something that feels similar, but I've no clue what it is, so I'm compounding it with alienation?

Regardless, it's all compounded into me just... Not wanting to be online. In the words of a friend of mine, "Dreamer has a fetish for self-development and growth", and, well, yeah, she's got that right despite the wording, I like to feel as if I'm improving every day and becoming better every day, even if slightly, and right now I feel like I'm just degenerating. Is it because my mood has been sour overall? Maybe. It might as well just be the fact that I Just Don't Want To Be Online For A While, and capricious clown that I am, if I want to do something, I do it, and if I don't want to do something, I don't do it. I'm tied to nothing and no one except my desire and drive to do or not do things. I can't change that, nor do I want to change that. And in this case, my heart's said to me, "fuck going online, go out, do things, try to get a job".

I also almost got recruited into something fucking vile that I thankfully noticed in time to avoid, but that's a story for another time.

There you have it. Am I leaving the internet/blue website forever? No, of course not, I like it here. Are things hard right now? They are, to be honest. Are they the worst it could be? Not at all. Do I have complete clarity of what's up with this fog inside of my head? No, and that bother me quite a bit. Are things going to be alright? Yeah, I think they will be.

I do regret it's in October of all months that this is going on, because it's where my shitposting power is at its apex due to my birthday, but hey, things happen, not necessarily for a reason, but they can be handled in such a way that it gives them meaning. I'm a fervent believer in that. I'm sorry this isn't the update you may have been hoping for, full of Lucina cosplayer blowjobs and other such hijinks, but hey, they can't all be Rainbow Road, haha.

So in case we don't see each other for a while, I hope you're all doing fine and dandy. I'm alive, I'm trying to be well, and most importantly, most fundamentally, most quintessentially,

I stay silly.

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bonkwrites · 1 year

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Girl’s Night (Civilian Life pt. 3)

You go out for a girl’s night and Simon falls deeper in love with you.

Warnings: possible dub-con, reader is drunk. Fem!reader. Dirty talk, riding, drunk sex.

READ PART ONE: CIVILIAN LIFE

READER PART TWO: SIMON’S FANTASY

-*-*-

Girl’s night is every other Saturday. You treasure it like it’s actual fucking gold, especially after not having a day of in far too long. Simon watches you get ready for the first time in months, his entire attention on the precision of your hands with brushes and little sponges. You could be a sniper.

Your skirt is short, your heels are chunky but they add three inches, and your shirt… Simon’s not sure he can call it a shirt, it covers too little. If he didn’t know how important tonight was to you he’d have torn it apart already and fucked you all night. You wear it to feel good, to seduce yourself into having a good time and drinking too much. He doesn’t have a problem with it, he assures you every time you ask if you should cover up more. You can handle yourself and Simon likes the idea of other men looking, knowing what they’re thinking, and knowing that you’re coming home to him. You won’t cheat and Simon is not stupid enough to think it. Simon kisses you, tells you he’s not waiting up, and smacks your ass while you walk away from him just to hear you cry out in surprise and then giggle as you shut the door.

He’s still up at two in the morning when you come in through the door and shush (Shhh!) yourself while you take off your shoes. You wander into the living room, following the sound of the TV cautiously. When you spot him, however, you relax with a sigh and cross your arms over your chest.

“You said you weren’t going to wait up,” you say, slight slur to your voice, a sway in your step, “I told you not to.”

“Just watching a show, love, not waiting up.” Simon replies. You settle down on the couch next to him, he puts his arm over your shoulder and you lay against his chest. This has become your default, laying on the couch with him like this, resting.

“How was girl’s night?” Simon asks.

“Great,” you smile up at him, “Alex-” Johnny’s girl- “she got us tequila shots and we were dancing. Oh, Si, you should have seen me.”

“We’ll go dancing, love, you just say the word,” You? Pressed against him in a club in something that tiny? What man could say no to something that fucking glorious?

“Can I have a kiss?” you ask, head tilted up. Simon scoffs out a laugh and kisses you. You’re adorable when you’re drunk, the loving type ever since you met him. It’s like you know he’s a love-deprived monster and decided your love would be the perfect cure. It is.

Simon puts his free hand on your cheek, low, his fingertips brushing against your neck. You whimper into his mouth. Kissing is a slippery slope for you, apparently, because before Simon can process anything you’re in his lap and your hands are on his cheeks.

“Love,” Simon grunts out between kisses, not a second of your attention caught. He puts a hand on your hip to still them and the other on your throat. He doesn’t choke you, isn’t trying to kill you, but it always makes you freeze when he does it. One of your hands grips his wrist, your eyes glaze over with pure lust.

“Simon,” you whimper, trying to grind your hips. Fuck.

“Simon,” you whine his name this time and Simon has to take a deep breath to calm himself. You’re drunk, you shouldn’t be doing this, and Simon’s going to have to put his foot down about it. You always make his life so hard.

“You’re drunk, love.” Simon whispers, hand releasing your throat. You come forward to kiss him again, your lips pressed to his lips, his jaw, and then his neck.

“You don’t want to?” you pause to ask, hands relaxing and lips detaching from his skin.

“Hell no.” he answers, “‘Course I do, sweetheart, just can’t when you’re-”

“Who gives a shit? I want you when I’m sober, I want you now…” You grind your hips down and Simon feels your lips stretch with a smirk against his skin, “I want you all the fucking time, Si.”

Simon’s breath shakes as you litter his neck with marks from your teeth and lips. You have him pinned to the couch with your hands on his chest, your skirt is riding up as you grind against the growing bulge in his sweats. He could switch it over, have you pinned to the couch, crying out his name and begging him for more. But he likes it this way, he’s not opposed to watching his perfect girl use him to get off. What can he say? He lives to serve.

“All the time?” Simon asks, fingers nudging under your skirt to grip your thighs.

“Everyday, god, I want you everyday. E-Every morning when you’re walking around in your fucking pajamas and you k-kiss me good morning in the kitchen I just want you- I want you to bend me over the counter-” you’re stuttering, stumbling over your words as you grind and grind your hips. Simon wonders if you can cum just like this, grinding on his cock through his pants like a fucking teenager.

“A-And when you put on your gear and you fucked me over the table I-I- oh god,” Simon’s hand cups your breast through your bra and you stop talking to whimper as he pinches your nipple through the fabric. Simon replays the image of you bent over the table, his hand gripping the chain of the handcuffs, you begging him to believe your innocence and he has to stop your hips from moving.

You huff, frustrated, and push a hand between your bodies to reach into the waistband of his pants. Demanding, that’s what you’re being tonight, just taking what you want from him and whining about it the whole time. Simon’s never been more turned on.

“That’s it,” Simon groans as you reach into his sweatpants to free him from them, “you finally gonna take what’s yours?”

“It’s mine?” you ask, breath shuttering as you try to pull your skirt up the rest of the way. Simon helps by unzipping it on the side and throwing it to the floor. His hands knead your thighs, your side, your ass.

“All yours, sweetheart, every fucking inch.” Simon replies. He pulls your skimpy little underwear to the side to get his fingers on you and fuck are you wet. He watches your eyes roll back when his fingers circle your clit in slow, lazy circles. He has the sudden urge to get you on his face. His cock throbs at the idea.

“Want you inside me,” you whimper, forehead on his shoulder, heart beating so fast he can feel it where your chest is pressed to his. Simon takes himself in his hand as you lift your hips, there will be a billion more times to have you ride his face. You moan when you feel his head pressed against you, every exposed inch of your skin is on fire, and Simon uses a hand on your hip to guide you down.

“Fuck,” Simon moans, outright moans, his head tossed to the back of the couch. Your thighs shake, your back arches, and when Simon looks at you he watches your eyes roll back.

“Feel good, love?” his voice is low, it rolls over you like thunder, and you can’t stop the way you nod frantically and whimper his name. He pulls your hips up on his cock and then drags you back down, relishing in the way you grip his arms and slump against him.

You always go so fucking dumb when you’re on top and Simon fucking loves it. You squirm through his slow, deep strokes, clinging onto him and shaking. You can’t stop repeating his name, chanting it against his shoulder and his neck, nails digging in. You like it slow like this, you like feeling every inch of him on every thrust, you always get so restless, so squirmy, like you’re trying to run away from the pleasure.

“C-Can’t take it, Si, god I can’t take it,” you sob, clenched down around him, letting him manipulate your movements.

“Know you can,” he grunts, “know you can take it, my perfect fucking girl, always take me so- so goddamn well,”

You fall apart in his lap, shaking and crying for him, hips fucking down on him through it all. Simon spreads his legs wider, feet planted flat, and he thrusts his hips up while he pulls your hips down. You shoot upright, hands pressing to his chest, thighs trying to close around his hips.

“S-Simon!” you sob, sensitive beyond belief, “Simon! Simon!"

"Fucking, oh fucking god, love." Your nails dig into his chest, his hands grip you tighter and tighter, and you cry out when he pins your body to his.

Simon's thrusts slow, he wants to savor it, has to slow it down to feel you squirm and whimper. Your hips circle, grinding down on his cock and forcing him closer to the edge.

"Wan'," you babble, incoherent against the clammy skin of his neck, "want you to put a baby in me, Si."

Simon is fucking ruined by that. He goes still, your hips keep moving, fucking yourself on his cock. Taking it and crying that you can’t, that you want his fucking babies. He cums inside you, filling you up and letting you keep your hips moving until he's too sensitive and he has to make you stop. You stay on top of him, hands grazing over the skin of his arms and his chest.

"That what you want?" He whispers in your ear while you pant, "you want me to put a fucking baby in you, love?"

"Puh-" you take a deep breath, it shakes through your chest, "please."

"Want a- want a life with you. I want a house with a yard and a dog and a little baby."

"I can give you the dog and the baby." He lays a kiss to the side of your head, you sigh heavily, happily, probably still a little tipsy. Simon needs to lift you off of him, you’re gonna want a shower even if you’re drunk and arguing with him the whole way.

You shower together. You’re leaning back heavily on him while he runs his soapy hands over your body. Your knees are the only things keeping you standing and Simon feels amazing about it. Your eyes are closed, you’re humming in contentment while he cleans your body for you with hands that he has used hundreds of times over to kill people, to torture people. He’s not a monster to you, not a Ghost, to you he’s just a man. Your man.

Simon has got to marry you. He has to. Simon has got to lock you down and make you his for eternity or he’ll never forgive himself for letting you get away from him.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod #cod smut #cod fanfic

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atlasofthestaars · 7 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .011

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NOTE: HERE WE ARE Y’ALL!! THE START OF THE OUTWORLD TOURNAMENT ARC!

Some context: For the sake of having more interactions and letting me write more I’m extending the tournament to have a fight per day + a bit more at the end. So basically the outworld tourney will be 7 days for each fight + a day or two more <3

Havik made it in as a love interest! His poll was so chaotic, which I guess makes sense? Haha, Ashrah made it in too, and she was by far the closest we’ve had to the 50/50! Now that Ashrah’s chapter is done, it means that’s our completed love interest roster! I have updated all the tags/the intro to fit this!

Even though the poll for chapter 10 is done on Tumblr, I do need to still calculate the votes from AO3 too, so that means it’s mainly between Johnny vs Bi Han, so I’ll announce the winner of that next chapter.

Here’s a genuine thank you all for reading this <3 I am overwhelmed by all the love and support you guys give, you’re all so amazing! Also haha sorry how long this took to finally get out.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO EXPERIENCES OUTWORLD FOR THE FIRST TIME

You barely had time to decipher the memories you had unlocked.

You, after all, had other duties to attend to. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. The tournament was a week away after all, so you had a lot of last minute duties you wanted to wrap up before going away for a little over a week. Or at least, that long assuming Raiden would win his challenges. You were thankful for the last minute tasks you had found to busy yourself with. You weren’t quite sure if you really wanted to dwell on what you had seen.

It, in all honesty, scared you.

How else were you supposed to respond to suddenly seeing a bunch of gore and having a major part of your backstory unlocked? You were handed the burden of learning that you went through, and yet it only added more questions. Throughout the week you considered confiding in Liu Kang about it all: telling him how you’re terrified of what you saw, and how you’re sorry you lied.

But you just couldn’t.

Fear grasped at you, sewing your mouth shut. It wasn’t as if you were afraid of Liu Kang hating you at first. You’re certain Liu Kang would allow you to tell him your tale with no judgement. You’d even bet on your own life that he would even comfort you for what you saw. He was far too kind to you. But then your mind kept on spiraling over the idea of what happens after.

He’d ask why you lied. Then he’d find out you’ve always lied about your memories, or at least not told him about them. It was a slippery slope. And there was just a lot of things to unpack there that would surely fracture the relationship between you and the god. And, while you weren’t taking advantage of him, the selfish voice in your head whispered how you couldn’t ruin the only chance at Outworld and finally find out more.

You came up with a solution to calm your nerves, even just a bit, that maybe you should finally tell him after the trip…assuming you got the courage to.

You weren’t sure if you trusted yourself on your little solution though, after all your mind poisoned your thoughts, still telling you that it was better you lied to him and to continue to lie to him. It had worked out so far, why change things? After all, you had a gut feeling that Liu Kang was keeping back secrets from you too. It was just a gut feeling, but you trusted your gut. But you also trusted Liu Kang. It was a debate you kept on going back and forth on, and could never figure out a conclusion to.

You felt like you had a right to keep these things secret. He wasn’t obligated to know every single thing about you. The god probably had a reason to keep things from you as well, just like you did. You weren’t obligated to know everything either, even if you so desperately wanted to. Still, you selfishly decided for now it was fair to keep your own secrets. It was to protect yourself.

You were definitely visiting Madam Bo after this trip, maybe you needed some good advice on this one.

“Are you overworking yourself?” Liu Kang inquired as you passed by one afternoon. You had been going to and fro, trying to distract yourself. You stopped, the authority in his voice making you pause. You shifted in place, avoiding looking at him as you cast your gaze to the side.

“No, I haven’t.” You had told him, which had been partially true. While you had been running around like a chicken whose head had been cut off, you hadn’t been over doing it. At least, by your standards. You took in a deep breath as you felt Liu Kang grab one of your hands. You looked up in surprise as his hand squeezed yours gently.

“Good.” He said, his voice full of warmth. Your stomach squirmed as you were filled with guilt at the look he gave you. A smile was on his lips. His thumb gently rubbed a few circles on the back of your hand, as if he were casting a protective spell on you. “I’m proud of how well you trained Raiden and the others. I am certain Raiden will do great at the tournament.”

You were at a loss of words, feeling your chest tighten. You nodded instead, and Liu Kang dropped your hand. He gave you a pat on the back as he passed you, walking off to what you assumed was the Wu Shi to help Raiden. You felt…colder. You supposed it was simply a side effect of Liu Kang being a fire god and him no longer being by your side.

Liu Kang made keeping secrets difficult.

Still, despite your worries, the week breezed by fast. And now you found yourself standing in front of the Fire Temple, waiting for your students and the monks to arrive. You swallowed your nerves, trying to force yourself to feel more relaxed. This was supposed to be exciting after all.

To your delight, you weren’t waiting long. The monks first arrived, and you directed them happily to the waiting area for whenever Liu Kang was ready. Many of them had regarded you warmly. Then, you smiled as you saw your four students come and arrive.

“Excited?” You inquired as they drew closer. You scanned them, noting their choice of outfits. It had been a while since you’ve seen them wear anything other than their most casual clothes or their Shaolin uniforms. It was a bit odd, but it was a breath of fresh air. The outfits suited them well.

“I’m excited, albeit a bit overwhelmed and nervous.” Raiden admitted a mixture of nervousness and a genuine smile on his face. He tipped his head forward, his straw hat obscuring the look on his face. Despite that, you forced your gaze on his head, trying to avoid the amulet that sent fear down your spine. You wanted to look at anything but that right now

“Psh, you’ll be fine.” Kung Lao scoffed, placing a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. He shot you a look of disbelief as he gestured to the new champion. “He’s been in his head about this whole thing, can you believe it?” He looked back over to his friend, shaking him slightly with the hand on his shoulder. “You have to be more confident. If you can beat me you can handle them all.” You smiled at his encouragement nodding.

“Kung Lao’s right, Raiden.” You told him, crossing your arms. “There’s a reason why you’re our champion.” You watched as Raiden’s head lifted up, a more confident expression on his face, though it was still tinged with a bit of nervousness. “Be confident in your abilities, otherwise I will start to think I’m a bad teacher.” You jested, adding on a small chuckle.

“You are anything but that.” Raiden commented, making your smile grow just a bit wider. The others nodding as well warmed your heart. You shooed them off after that short moment, yet one of them hung back to linger. While the Fengjian farmers were too caught up talking to each other to notice, you noted the side eye Kenshi shot Johnny as he hung back. Odd.

“You aren’t exempt from waiting with the others, you know.” You said, raising an eyebrow as you eyed Johnny. The actor shot you his signature grin, which you both knew didn’t work on you. With a confident stride, Johnny slung an arm over your shoulder and pulled out his phone. You raised an eyebrow at the casual contact, but didn’t shrug him off. Over the last few months, ever since the late night discussion, you’ve grown used to the causal contact.

You just assumed Johnny was getting more friendly with you.

“I know, teach.” Johnny said, causally scrolling through his phone. You tried to keep your gaze away from it out of respect, but the temptation was strong. “But I think I have something that might interest you.” He said, sending you a sly look. You simply looked at him with an unimpressed look, and he took it as his cue to continue on. “I hear you and hat boy had a bet?” He inquired, still showing off his pearly whites to you.

“And what of it?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip as you sent him a skeptical look. Your head tilted as you thought of why he would bring it up. You figured it wasn’t the oddest thing he knew about it, Kung Lao had probably bragged about his victory to the group. You had settled that you would make him his feast after the trip.

“Well, what if I told you I might have some video evidence that might please you?” He said, his voice dripping with confidence. Your eyebrows raised again, and you pursed your lips, not knowing what to make of his offer. “Listen, it’s all legit. I recorded the hat kid and thunder lad discussing something and you might be interested in seeing it.” He egged you on.

“And why are you telling me this?” You inquired, looking at Johnny with the same skeptical look, not quite yet taking the bait.

“Look, I like you teach, so I wanna cut you a sweet deal.” The actor said, and you knew he was trying to work up his charisma. “You get the ultimate evidence towards Kung Lao so you rectify your little bet and I get a little reward too.” Johnny offered, waving his phone with a paused video on the screen. Now he was deliberately showing you the screen.

You squinted at the phone. You could see the back of Kung Lao, he seemed to be talking to Raiden who seemed to have a somewhat disapproving look on his face. You looked more carefully. It seemed to be the same day of the exam, so it would fall under the betting time.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?” You asked, a small sigh leaving your lips as you finally relented. You saw Johnny’s grin grow wider as he raised his eyebrows in a cocky manner. His smile turned into a self assured smirk, thinking he had you in his trap.

“I saw from tattoo that you started hooking him up with some sweet meals.” He started, and you blinked in surprise at the topic of conversation. You nodded, then let him speak more. “I think that little feast you were planning to make that hat boy, you give to me…and Madam Bo’s special tea.”

“I’ll give you Madam Bo’s special tea and just one meal.” You counter offered quickly, crossing your arms. You watched as Johnny Cage sent you an offended look. You held back a chuckle of amusement at the expression.

“After my generous deal?” The American asked, his face scrunching up. “No way, wildstyle!” He scoffed, a small pout on his lips. You shook your head in amusement as you sent him a look.

“You may think you have the high ground here with your little offer, but you gave me more information than you thought you did.” You said, pointing at his phone screen. His eyes glanced over to the paused screen. “I can just ask Raiden if Kung Lao cut his finger.” You pointed out. “I think he’d be more likely to tell me if I just asked.”

“Hm…” Johnny stared at you for a good long moment. You could see the gears turning in his head at your point. You assumed he had plenty of experience in this sort of thing. “You think that golden boy would betray his best buddy like that?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I can always offer him what I offered youI’m certain he’d take the deal and you’d be left with nothing.” You point out with a shrug, trying to hold out a little on your bluff. You weren’t entirely sure if Raiden would take your offer, but it was worth a bluff.

“Fine.” Johnny groaned with a pout, his head dropping. His head brushed your shoulder, and you rolled your eyes in a playful way. “You drive a hard bargain. You ever consider becoming an agent for Hollywood?” He inquired, tilting his head to look at you, his cheek still resting on your shoulder. “I could use someone like you.”

“Hah, funny offer.” You laughed, and Johnny’s smile returned in a more sincere way. “I think I’d rather act in one of your movies than become whatever your agent is.” You remarked, which grew Johnny’s smile even more. You used your hand to move his head off your shoulder. “Chin up, Johnny.”

“Really now?” He said, a hint of amusement and hope in his voice. “I’ll be holding you up to that statement, you know.” Johnny said, nudging you a bit with his shoulder.

“I didn’t commit to anything, Cage.” You pointed out with a small shake of your head. “Now show me the video you were bragging so much about.” You commanded, looking from the actor to the paused video he had been waving in front of your face. With a small smile, he tapped the screen, unpausing the video.

You watched as Kung Lao approached Raiden, talking to him about something. His back was to the camera, so it was a bit hard to see what he was exactly doing, but you can glean enough from what he was saying. You could see him, or at least you assumed, trace the brim of the hat. Then you heard an “ow” and the man winced.

You watched with a slow smirk spreading across your lips as he froze, before quickly telling Raiden that he “didn’t see anything”. Raiden looked very confused at the sudden command, which prompted Kung Lao to tell him that he would just “tell him later”. All he had to do was just not tell you about it.

“There, as promised.” Johnny told you, a cheeky grin sent your way. You returned the look before peering back down at the video, which continued to play, showing Kung Lao now showing off his hat. “Aren’t you glad I’m looking out for you, wildstyle?”

“I’m honored.” You replied sarcastically, playfully rolling your eyes. “A person who was actually looking out for me would tell me without wanting something in return, you know.” You pointed out. “Still grateful though. I have to ask, why were you interested in my cooking all of a sudden?”

“Hey, nothing comes for free.” Johnny said, shrugging his shoulders causally. “You’re welcome, by the way.” The American paused, humming as he pursed his lips. “Well, it started when I caught tattoo holding one of your meals. It looked delicious, he didn’t let me try though.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “And then Kung Lao began bragging that he’d get a full feast from you and well…” He shook his phone, and you connected the dots.

“I get it.” You said, nodding. You realized how long the two of you had been standing around for. You send him a small smirk and you let out a small laugh. “You could have just asked for food if you really wanted it, but I appreciate the help.” You admitted, before shrugging off his arm and walking ahead, gesturing for him to follow. “Now come on.”

“Wait, you would really?” Johnny called out after you, following you closely. He raised his eyebrows, scanning your face with a hint of suspicion. “Where’s the catch here?” He inquired, the suspicion leaking into his voice.

“You’ve known me long enough, Johnny.” You told him, looking over to him with an amused look. “There’s no catch. I don’t mind doing that kind of stuff for you guys.” You said, which was true. You wouldn’t mind doing anything for them as long as it made them happy. You always were too much of a people pleaser.

“Yeah, I should have known.” The actor said with a sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over at you. “You’re way too generous, you know that?” He told you, which led to you letting out a small chuckle of surprise. “Here, use this to stick it to Kung Lao, just give it back before we head out.” You caught Johnny’s phone when he tossed it over to you, then he jogged ahead.

You smiled as you held the phone. While he wasn’t the most protective over it, you still felt a sense of trust put in you due to you holding the precious object. With a little more pep in your step as well as the determination of a person with a vengeance, you walked over to Kung Lao, tapping his shoulder. You hid the phone behind your back as the man turned around.

“Yes?” The former farmhand inquired, sending you a confident smile. You had a feeling he was still feeling a bit smug after “winning” the bet. You let a slow smirk spread across your lips, then your eyes fell to look at his shirt. Your brain paused as you took a moment to stare at the dragon design on the left side.

Was that the same design as the necklace you were wearing? You wondered over that fact for a moment as you realized, yes…yes it was. Your smirk turned into a smile for a moment as you realized this. It felt…nice to be matching with him.

“I heard from a little birdie that you lied.” You said, breaking your gaze away from his shirt. Your smile turned into a smirk again. You watched as Kung Lao looked at you with pure confusion. “I’m referring to the bet that we had between us.” You clarified. Then, you watched as he sent a look over to Raiden, who simply shrugged.

“Me? Lie?” Kung Lao inquired, raising his eyebrows as he pretended to not know what you were talking about. He crossed his arms, his head tilting upwards. “Hah! I would never.” He said, his self confident front holding up. You would have believed it too, had you not witnessed the video that Johnny had given you.

“I wouldn’t lie Kung Lao, that’s not something neither I or the monks taught you.” You chided playfully. An offended look appeared on the man’s face, then it turned into surprise as you revealed the phone you had hidden behind your back. “Want to confess now? Or should I show the damning evidence I was so preciously given?”

“I…uh…” Kung Lao floundered, searching for an excuse to spin the tale in his favor. You assumed from the screen he already knew what the video was going to show. After a few moments, he sighed in resignation. “Okay. you got me.” He admitted, hanging his head. You nodded slowly, crossing your arms. “Sorry?” He said, giving a half apology with a small shrug with an apologetic smile. You let out a laugh.

“Apology accepted, though I thought you’d have more honor in a bet since you do it so much.” You pointed out, which prompted a somewhat guilty look from the man. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you do anything bad.” You told him, the wicked smile spreading across your lips said otherwise. You watched as Kung Lao looked like he regretted his actions, though you did hear him mutter under his breath he would definitely be getting Johnny back for this betrayal.

“I see we have all gathered.” Liu Kang spoke up, walking up to the group that gathered. His gaze swept over the group that you had gathered, an approving look on his face. You noticed Kenshi and Johnny walked up beside you, and you handed over the phone back to the actor. “It is time.” He told you all, leading you all into a pavilion.

Excitement filled you as Liu Kang began to summon the portal. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Johnny began to record the process. However, as the portal began to form, your excitement turned into a massive headache, and you let out a small hiss as you clutched your head. This was worse than any headache you’ve had recently.

“Are you okay?” Kenshi whispered, leaning towards you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked over, trying to send him a convincing smile. He didn’t buy it, and a look of concern remained on his face as he looked at you.

“I’m fine.” You managed to say, your smile wavering as your head pounded with searing pain. “I just get massive migraines sometimes.” You lie, the same lie you’ve always used whenever someone that wasn’t Liu Kang caught you having these pains.

“I see.” Kenshi said, yet his hand remained on your shoulder as a source of comfort. He tried to send you a reassuring smile. It helped a bit, even if it didn’t alleviate the pain at all. His hand on your shoulder was doing more to help you. It felt like an anchor to the real world amidst all the pain. You leaned slightly towards the swordsman, allowing yourself to temporarily lean against him. He let you, his grip growing firmer.

The light of the portal flashed and pulsed, orange light shining on all of your faces. Had you not been in pain, you figured you would have appreciated how beautiful it was. But now, it just served to add to your nausea. You breathed in, trying to go through the pain. You could only hope it only got better.

“Outworld can be both alien and intoxicating to Earthrealmers.” Liu Kang spoke, and you forced yourself to focus on his voice to drown out the pain. “Do not become drawn in.” The fire god warned. You wondered briefly, if that extended to you. You nodded slowly, regretting it as it felt like you were beginning to sway. Kenshi righted you, using his hand to make sure you didn’t fall over. “You must focus on the task at hand.”

Soon enough, the portal was completed. With confident strides, Liu Kang entered the portal composed of pulsing and swirling orange energy. You followed in tow, Kenshi’s hand staying on your shoulder for only a few more moments to make sure you were alright before dropping. You bit the inside of your cheek and clenched your fists, trying to abate the pain.

You barely noticed Johnny pointing the camera your way. With a huff, Kenshi shoved the camera away, sending him a look. This made the actor send him a look of disbelief at the action. You managed to send the ex gang member a grateful look before you stepped to the otherside of the portal.

For a moment, you experienced nothingness. You couldn’t see, hear, feel, or sense anything in general. Then, there was a searing pain that engulfed your entire body. You tried to scream, but it was as if you lost your voice. It was as if your headache had spread across your form and had been multiplied by ten. Thankfully, it was only for a moment and then it disappeared.

It seemed the pain dissipating had taken the bulk of your headache, leaving you only with a dull discomfort. It was akin to a slight pressure in your head, nowhere near as bad. It was an annoyance, but it wasn’t unbearable anymore.

After a moment, you found yourself emerging on the other side of the portal. Your eyes widened as you looked around, wondering if anyone else had gone through an excruciating experience like you. As you watched their reactions, you realized they must have not. The others were immersed in the beauty of the world, and you doubted they would look as relaxed as that if they had gone through the same thing. So, you forced yourself to focus on the area around you

Gone was the desolate and war torn Outworld that your brain knew. Instead, you were greeted with a world full of beauty and life. You felt torn. You were happy it looked to be thriving as much as Liu Kang had told you. And yet, at the same time, you wondered if this world was going to be able to offer you anything useful to your past with how…different it was.

Still, you found yourself in awe of the area. It looked like a garden was surrounding the portal, which seemed to be integrated beautifully into the architecture. Whites, purples, and greens were the main color scheme of the area, giving it a regal vibe.

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kanas anymore.” Johnny remarked as he filmed the area, and you recalled when Johnny had put on that movie during one of the movie nights. You felt a bit happy that you could actually recognize one of his movie references.

As your gaze wandered from the area itself to what was in front of you, your eyes finally settled on two figures dressed in pink and blue respectively. They stood amongst dozens of guards, all notably women. On the stairs, there was a beautifully woven purple carpet. It vaguely reminded you of the red carpet Johnny had bragged so much about.

Your mind had a hazy realization that you recognized the two standing upon the steps. But through the dull pain, no memories popped up. You figured it was the result of too many memories trying to break free, much like when you had first trained the four champions.

“Oh my…are those?” Johnny Cage spoke, as the two figures approached, walking causally down the steps. He looked over to the group, assessing their reactions as he kept the camera facing forward. The others, predictably, did not share the actor’s sentiments.

“Empress Sindel’s daughters, yes.” Liu Kang replied, a hint of sterness in his voice. Taking that as your cue, you nudged Johnny, indicating to him to knock it off. Of course, the actor just sent you a pout. Liu Kang also looked back to send him a look.

“They do not disappoint.” Johnny continued to comment, earning another nudge from you. “Okay! Okay! I get it!” He hissed out. Your eyes landed on the guard closest to you. You and her made eye contact for a moment, which led to another feeling of familiarity hitting you. How many people would you meet that you knew previously?

“Please be respectful.” You told Johnny Cage, leaning towards him to whisper it in a discreet way. “We’re here as guests, and I’d rather not get on anyone’s bad side.” You said, giving him a pointed look. He sighed but nodded.

“Fine.” The actor agreed, holding back the childish urge to roll his eyes at your chiding. “Won’t stop me from at least admiring them, though.” Johnny relented, his gaze lingering on you for a few moments. He looked you up and down, much to your confusion before returning his gaze back to the Outworlders.

As you all stopped in front of the blue and pink duo, Liu Kang bowed. Quickly, everyone followed suit, replicating the gesture.You focused your attention on the duo, trying to work out who they were. They definitely looked familiar…and they seemed near identical.

Ah. While your memories weren’t popping up, you made the connection. Liu Kang had pointed out these were the princesses. The pink one must be the older one, Mileena…which meant the blue one must be Kitana. As you recalled their names, your brain seemed to buzz, the dull pain strengthening temporarily in intensity. It was as if memories were fighting to rise to the surface. You definitely knew these two before.

“Lord Liu Kang, welcome.” Mileena spoke, nodding her head. A cordial smile was placed on her lips, and her eyes seemed to assess the group in front of her. Her sister also seemed to scan the crowd, though a polite smile did not reach her lips. Instead, an analytical look was on hers. You assumed she was already trying to find who it was that was to fight Outworld’s champions.

“Thank you, Princess Mileena.” Liu Kang said, a warm smile on his lips. You watched as the guard that had been by the side strode over to be closer to the princesses. You concentrated on the princesses’ faces, trying to see if trying to force any memories would help clear your head. It didn’t. If anything, it just increased the pressure of the pain, so you stopped trying to do it.

“You remember my sister?” Mileena inquired. She leaned back, looking over to Kitana who looked back at her in acknowledgement.

“Of course.” Liu Kang replied. He then bowed once more. “Princess Kitana.” The other princess acknowledged his courtesy with a nod of her own. “May I introduce my companion,” The fire god spoke your name, and you bowed slightly, showing the same respect as Liu Kang did. “Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kenshi Takahashi, and Earthrealm’s champion, Raiden.”

“I hope you’re prepared, Raiden.” Kitana spoke this time. An air of confidence filled her voice as she scrutinized your student. “Our champions are determined to win.” She said, her gaze falling upon her sister. You knew very well that Mileena was supposed to be one of the champions, as told to you by Liu Kang. Liu Kang had put himself in charge of preparing the champion, since you’ve never seen the fighting prowess of the Outworlders yourself.

“None more so than me.” The older twin said, self assuredness in her tone. Her gaze was steady, almost as if trying to intimidate Raiden with it alone. “It’s been too long since we’ve known victory.” She reminded the group, and you could tell she was determined to be the one to reclaim it.

“Princess Mileena.” The guard you saw from earlier spoke up. There was a hint of urgency within her tone as she spoke. She had gone up the steps to get closer to the princess. “We should be on our way, Empress Sindel awaits.”

“Thank you, Tanya.” Mileena replied. The name Tanya struck a chord in you. That was definitely familiar as well. You couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse that you would be in such close proximity with people you supposedly knew before. “Follow me, please.”

You all followed the trio of women, walking down a hall that was flanked by guards. Mileena was leading the group. At the end, a line of royal carriages awaited. You soon found yourselves been split up into small groups to ride the carriages. You were in the first group, along with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Mileena. The guard from earlier, Tanya, took the reins.

As the others slipped in, you considered where to sit. It wasn’t until the princess graciously gestured to the spot next to her that you allowed yourself to sit next to her. You didn’t want to be rude and assume, but you were grateful she didn’t seem to mind. You sat across from Raiden, with Liu Kang diagonally from you.

As soon as everyone boarded their carriages, the carriage line set off. It was preceded by a joyous Shokan who played the drums. It was quite nice to see a man so enthusiastic over his job. The other guards, the Umgadi you recalled, flanked the carriages as you set off. You watched with amazement as you passed through Sun Do. It was colorful and alive, and you awkwardly smiled and at the people who gazed at you from the streets. You weren’t used to being marveled like this.

The people on the streets were dressed up in bright garb, and vendors were going around trying to take advantage of the festivities and trying to sell more of their wares. You even spotted some Outworlders cheering as they toasted their mugs together.

“Those are Centaurians.” Raiden said, the wonder clear in his voice. Raiden also had excitement on his face, though you supposed it was due to the novelty of it all. He did not share the same feelings as you did at that moment. “And Shokan!”A wide grin spread across his face, and it was all too easy to match his. His energy was contagious.

“The six armed being as Naknadans.” Mileena informed, looking over the crowd. You wondered for a moment if she was simply informing him, or if the man, in his enthusiasm, had mixed up the Outworld races.

“The monks described them. But seeing them in person…” Raiden said, returning his gaze to Mileena to acknowledge her words towards him. He was unable to keep his attention on her for long, as he returned his attention back to the crowd soon enough.

“I see Her Majesty once again spares no expense on the festival.” Liu Kang remarks, having observed the colorful atmosphere in silence. You raised your eyebrows, now wondering how the city looked without all the festivities. Was it just as beautiful? Either way, it was certainly an upgrade from what you remembered previously.

“Should she not?” Mileena replied, and you looked over. She had an almost offended look on her face, which caught you off guard. “It commemorates my late father.” She said, and you took note of that. You remembered how Liu Kang had told you about the brief history of the royal family, including the unfortunate death of King Jerrod.

“I think it is a wonderful celebration in memory of him.” You spoke up, your gaze landing on the decorations that were among the people and buildings. You voice carried the admiration you held for the beauty of it all. “Her Majesty made the capital look so wonderful, it must be an excellent reflection of your father.” You felt the princess’ gaze land on you, and you turned to send her a friendly smile.

Whistles were blown, and you turned to look over your shoulder to gaze at whatever was causing it. You saw a woman standing in the street, in the way of the procession. It seemed she was leading other guards, who were notably dressed differently than the Umgadi. You watched as those people led off a few people who seemed to be handcuffed. Your eyebrows furrowed. Not at the sight, but at the slight haze you felt upon seeing her, too.

You wondered if you were bound to recognize a person every few minutes in this place.

Mileena knocked on the carriage frame, which prompted Tanya to stop the animals from continuing on. The princess whispered a small “excuse me” as she walked past you and Raiden, and hopped off the carriage. She strode over to the woman with what you assumed was thinly veiled frustration.

You couldn’t hear the conversation well, but you did overhear that she called the woman the first constable. You put two and two together that this must be the police force of Sun Do. She seemed to express anger towards the failed job of clearing the street. Then, the conversation was spoken in words too quiet for you to overhear. You turned back in your seat, to make it seem like you weren’t listening in on that conversation.

“Princess Mileena doesn’t seem to like her very much.” Raiden observed, his gaze on the two women. You nodded. Fromwhat Liu Kang had taught you, you already had put together why they had some sort of conflict, aside from the obvious hold up.

“Li Mei used to lead the Umgadi, the palace guard.” Liu Kang informed the champion, catching him up to speed. His glowing gaze drifted over to look at him. “It was on her watch that the Princesses’ father was murdered.” As the information settled in, the tension in the carriage rose. Soon enough, Mileena rejoined the group, though a bit more peeved.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride was peaceful and without any further hold ups. The tension dissipated as you watched the city fade away, and the palace came into view. The carriages stopped at the entrance, and you soon found yourselves being ushered away by the Umgadi into the palace. The princesses had disappeared in the midst, and you assumed they were simply getting ready for the upcoming event.

As you found yourself standing in the Great Hall of the palace, you stood next to Liu Kang, your students in front of you. Raiden was the one who was directly in front of Liu Kang, and you could tell his nerves were getting to him. His arms were crossed as his head tilted down, his hat concealing the stress that was obvious on his face.

“Worry expends energy for no reason, Raiden.” Liu Kang reminded him.

“But the tournament.” Raiden pointed out. Worry creased his brow, and you could sympathize with the burden he must feel being the only representative for Earthrealm within this tournament. His arms uncrossed as he stepped closer, looking at the fire god. “If I lose…”

“Just remember your training, Raiden.” You cut in, recognizing the signs of a spiraling mind. You gave him a smile, and Liu Kang did as well. “I told you already, you have the ability to win this tournament.” You reminded him of your words earlier. “As long as you focus on yourself, you will do fine. Worrying over a future that hasn’t happened yet will do you no good.”

Raiden looked at you, trying to soak in your words. His furrowed brow relaxed, and he tried to reciprocate the smile. It was a weak and weary one, but it was better than nothing. He seemed to be more confident now because of your words, even if it was just by a little bit.

The sounds of armor and the crowd whispers caught your attention. You looked over to see a horned man enter the hall. Your eyes met, and your eyes widened. It felt like the world was slowing down to a halt. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, so loud you could practically hear the blood rushing in your ears.

Shao Khan.

Your body froze, and it was like the amulet all over again. The world around you swirled and faded, and you found yourself now atop a rooftop. The sky was hazy with a mixture of clouds and smog from the destruction of the world around you. Distantly, other buildings were set on fire. THo0se that weren’t seemed to be destroyed.

This was the end of all things.

You were on your knees, cradling yet another body in your hands. The smell of it all was terrible. The first thing you smelled was burnt flesh. It was sickening and made your stomach turn and twist. Then, you smelt ash from the fires all around you. You didn’t dare look down, your hands trembling as they felt burnt and scarred skin. That must be the main source of the burnt flesh smell.

To your left, you recognized hazily, Johnny Cage. He looked different, but you could recognize him all the same. To your right, you saw a woman whose name you only vaguely recalled as Sonya Blade. She was an ally? Surely she must be. Ahead of you, you could see Raiden in his thunder god form standing before the man whose name rang in your head.

Shao Khan.

Your head was pounding. All you knew was the massive destruction around you was because of the man. How it came to be, you couldn’t recall. All you knew was that it was because of him. Hate filled you, and you grit your teeth. Grief for things you didn’t quite remember clawed at your heart. You almost clenched your hands into fists, but then you remembered the body in your lap. Instinctively, you looked down. You wished you hadn’t the moment you did.

Liu Kang?

A wave of nausea filled you as you recognized the scarred and burnt body of the man in your lap. Thin scars trailed upwards his body, accompanied with gruesome burnt scars. One eye had even turned white from his injuries. Your stomach turned as you looked into his one good eye, and you realized with horror that it was already glazed over.

Death had already claimed the man.

“No.” You said, your voice quivering as you stared down at the man. Tears began to blur your vision, and your heart raced. How could this happen? This had to be a dream, an illusion. Anything but real. In your shock, you tried to shake him, hoping somehow he would wake up. All you felt was his warmth quickly fading away from you.

The voice in your head screamed. You’ve lost too many! But who had you lost? Looking down at the deceased in your lap, you wondered how many you’ve had lay dying in your arms. Did it matter how many had died?

You didn’t know. All you knew is that you were filled with a burning hatred for whoever did…this.

“You monster!” You cried out, standing up after you had carefully set down Liu Kang’s body onto the ground. You couldn’t recall who had done this, but you could only assume that Shao Khan had to be responsible.

Raiden turned back, shock on his face at your scream filled with pure vitriol. As you charged towards Shao Khan, hate fueling your body. you saw the thunder god trying to stop you. You ignored him. You would not let the thunder god prevent you from avenging those you have lost in this ceaseless war.

You leapt, claws outstretched as your teeth bared as a lion. Shao Khan merely chuckled at your attempt to lash out at him. You grunted as the man easily sent you flying back with his sorcery. As you fell, you transformed back into your human form. You tumbled onto the rooftop, hazily seeing Johnny and Sonya also being flung back as well. They landed near you.

You were powerless as you watched Raiden confront the tyrant. Was this the end?

“Red alert.” Johnny muttered behind you, snapping you out of your vision. You blinked, trying to ground yourself in the real world. You didn’t get a conclusion to the vision you saw, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. What a horrible vision you had received. And yet, curiosity was clawing at you, what had happened? “Incoming stock villain.”

Was that the last thing you saw before you died and came into this life? Or was there more to the story?

“General Shao.” Liu Kang said, and you looked over at him. You felt a wave of relief as you looked at the fire god, knowing he was alive and not dead like you had seen. Still, the image was seared into your head. How cruel it was that the fire god had glowing white eyes, reminding you of the one white eye he had during his death. “Do not let him goad you.” Earthrealm’s protector advised Raiden, looking over to him. Then, he turned his eyes to look at you. His gaze turned perplexed as they did so.

You swallowed, quickly sending the fire god a smile. You must have left the look of worry lingering on your face far too long. That seemed to temporarily satisfy him as he turned his attention to General Shao, but the lingering stare he left on you left you knowing he would ask later.

With heavy footsteps, the man who your brain was screaming to maul approached. His eyes glanced over to you, an eyebrow raised before they stared back at Raiden. You were certain from that expression you were failing to hide the sudden hate you felt towards him. A mocking smile appeared on his face as he assessed the man. A condescending laugh left his lips.

“Hah, this is Earthrealm’s champion?” General Shao commented with a sneer. “I nearly thought it was that one.” He remarked, pointing a finger in your direction. You blinked in surprise at the comment. “That stare had resolve and determination to best me the moment I stepped in. Disappointingly, it appears you’re the champion.” His lip curled with delight. “So scrawny.”

“Would you care to test his strength!?” Kung Lao challenged Shao for his friend. He stepped forward with indignation. You leaned over with wide eyes and sent him a glare. You had to admit, you were holding yourself back from leaping at the general yourself, but for different reasons. This was neither of your guys’ battle to fight, though. “Raiden will-” Thankfully, Liu Kang stepped in to intervene.

“Will prove himself well enough.” Liu Kang spoke, finishing Kung Lao’s sentence for him. His hand hovered in front of Kung Lao’s chest to prevent him from stepping any closer. He stepped in between the champion and the general, acting like a barrier between the two realms. His gaze was unwavering in the face of the man.

“Have you still not told most Earthrealmers that Outworld exists?” General Shao inquired, his voice deep and gravely. His face held a look of judgement as he regarded the god. He was already looking down at him physically, and from the tone of his voice, it was more than just that.

“It is safer that way, General.” Liu Kang responded simply, not giving into his attempts to frustrate him.

“I suppose so.” General Shao said. He then took a step closer, trying to intimate Liu Kang, He leaned down, a belittling tone in his voice. “Your people’s frail minds couldn’t handle the truth.” You realized suddenly, that your hands were balled into fists. Crescent moon marks would be left permanently on the inside of your palm at this rate. You forced your hands to relax, and folded them behind your back. You held back a scoff at this poor attempt of intimidation.

“You presume them frail, General?” Liu Kang challenged. He raised his eyebrows at the Outworlder’s cocky attitude. “Should you…given how frequently they win this tournament?” The fire god pointed out, and you could tell he hit a nerve. The tension grew thicker, and it was as if you could cut it with a knife.

“We will destroy your champion, Liu Kang.” General Shao promised, his resolve showing through his voice. You could sense the hatred he felt for the god, not even bothering to use the honorific for him. He shook his head, his orange eyes boring into the demigod. “He shall taste no victory.”

Then he stormed off.

Minutes passed by, and more people filled the room. It was crowded. You offered light conversation to a random Edenian woman to be polite as you waited. You learned how excited she was to finally be able to watch the tournament in person, a sentiment you both shared. She was new to serving the throne, so this would be her first time. Although cautious, she even asked about Earthrealm, something you were glad to tell about.

Soon enough, you heard footsteps walking down from the hall, and the conversations began to cease. You sent an apologetic smile to your conversation partner that your conversation was cut short. You turned your attention to the trio of women who now entered the room.

Leading them was the woman who you presumed was Empress Sindel, the princesses following close behind. Your mind buzzed at the sight of her, and you began to wonder once more how many important people you once knew in your past life. Surely, it was not a coincidence you recognized many who seemed to be important in this life.

Who…were you?

The trio took confident strides, holding an air of regalness around them. You stood next to Raiden and Johnny, watching them walk through the hall towards their thrones. They walked up to their thrones before seating themselves comfortably, almost seeming to bask in the high regard that everyone held them in.

“Welcome, members of the royal house.” Sindel began to address the crowd, her gaze sweeping across the room. Her voice held authority, yet it also had a sense of warmth within it. “Welcome, our esteemed Earthrealm guests.” She said, nodding her head in the direction of your group. “We gather once again to honor my late husband’s legacy. To continue the tournament that he founded with Lord Liu Kang in hopes it would foster peace among the realms.”

A pained and sorrowful expression appeared on Sindel’s face, and you had sympathy for her. Losing someone close to you…while you did not experience it in this life, the memories that began to terrorize you reminded you of how heavy that loss can feel. You couldn’t imagine how much worse it must feel since the one she lost was her husband.

“May Jerrod’s soul watch over us with pride from its resting place in the Living Forest.” Your brain recognized the place, though last you recalled it was much more sinister. You wondered how it was now. A moment of silence was given in respect for the late King. “Lord Liu Kang.” Sindel addressed the god, who had walked over to the Empress. He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up to her from her place on the throne.

“Empress Sindel.” Liu Kang replied, a smile on his face. “It pleases me once again to be your guest.” He bowed to the Empress, showing his respect for the ruler. Despite being a god, you admired how humble he was.

“Here, you are always welcome.” Sindel replied, her hands spreading out in a friendly gesture. The fire god lifted himself up to look at her once more. Crossing her leg, she leaned forward in interest. “Now, let us meet your champion.”

“Earthrealm’s champion is Raiden, Your Majesty.” Liu Kang introduced. You looked over to said man who remained rooted to the spot. You placed a gentle hand on his back to push him forward, having a feeling he was too stunned by his nerves. He felt stiff when you pushed him. “He has earned his place by embodying the very best qualities of Earthrealm’s people.”

“You seem nervous, young man.” Sindel observed, her eyes searching the younger man.

“I’m a stranger in an unfamiliar land.” Raiden said. “Here to compete against its greatest fighters. Yes, I am nervous.” He admitted with a nod of his head. You had to admit, even if it was foolish to admit weakness against these people, his honesty still made you smile. It was just part of his charm.

Never change, Raiden.

“As you should be.” The Empress acknowledged, though her tone was not condescending. If anything, it had a hint of encouragement behind it. “You have a difficult path ahead.” She stood up, and spread her hands out in a grand gesture. “It has begun!”

Those words felt so familiar to you. Has…this been the first tournament you’ve been to?

“As tradition requires, Outworld’s initial competitor will be Sun Do’s first constable.” Sindel announced. You looked over, hearing the sound of heels clack down the hallway. You recognized the woman approaching. It was the same person that Mileena had been admonishing. “Li Mei.” A determined look was on the woman’s face, contrasting the uncertain one Raiden whenever the tournament was brought up.

You glanced over to Raiden, trying to assess his reaction. It was as you expected. He still had that look of doubt and nervousness on his face. Yet, at the same time, you could see that same determination shining in his eyes.

“May she defend our realm’s glory as well as she preserves our capital’s order.” Sindel continued to speak, right until the first constable stopped right in front of the Empress’ throne at the bottom of the steps.

“Your Majesty.” Li Mei said, looking up to the ruler. She stood up straight and ready, and you could see the training she must have gone through as both an officer and an Umgadi in her stance alone. “I will honor both the royal house, and all of Outworld, with my kombat.” The officer announced, saluting the woman. A bold claim. Sindel descended the steps, placing a hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

Their conversation was too hushed for you to listen in. Well, you could listen in if you wanted to, but you figured it would be rude to do so. You also knew it would be very, very obvious if you transformed your ears to do so as well. But from your position alone, you could see hints of resentment within the Empress’ expression, barely visible under the guise of her veiled pleasantries.

You felt…pity for Li Mei.

“All you need do is your best.” Liu Kang told Raiden. He placed a hand on his shoulder as he regarded the champion. “The rest will take care of itself.” You placed a hand on Raiden’s bicep, looking at him warmly as you nodded.

“He’s right. You being here and having the courage to fight for Earthrealm makes me, and I’m certain Liu Kang as well, proud enough.” You encouraged him, squeezing his arm. Raiden sent you a smile as well. You could see how he was strengthening his resolve for his upcoming fight.

“Yes, thank you both.” Raiden replied, nodding. His gaze switched between both you and the fire god. But as you retreated with Liu Kang, you felt the champion’s gaze linger on you for just a few moments longer.

“Shall we see what you can do?” Li Mei challenged. She seemed more angry now, as if her determination had now been switched out with anger for the man. This made you wonder just what the Empress had said to her during their hushed moment. You clasped your hands together, staring at the duo as they conversed before their fight.

“Hopefully, this will be the first of many victories.” Raiden replied, his tone polite and respectful. You sighed. You knew it was part of his charm, but he seriously needed a lesson in verbally defending himself better.

“I will prevail, Earthrealmer.” Li Mei declared. Her eyes narrowed at her opponent. “This fight is more important to me than you will ever know.”

The fight began. It was intense. While Raiden was trained well, courtesy of you, the monks, and Liu Kang, you weren’t certain how he would fare against the Outworlders. After all, you knew they had much longer life spans than Earthrealmers, which meant they had more experience than what he could ever have.

Li Mei displayed great combat prowess. You could see how disciplined her technique was from the way she moved. She was relentless. She treated Raiden as if he were a threat, which he was. She did not dare underestimate her opponent.

Raiden, however, kept his calm. You watched as he showcased his newfound electric abilities. It was honestly a bit mesmerizing to watch, and you were immensely impressed by how fast he had mastered the new powers. It was as if he had them since birth, and you would have assumed so had you not been there to witness when he first got his powers. You just wished it came from anything else than that cursed amulet.

Still, despite the vigor that Li Mei had shown, Raiden was still able to best her.

“Thank you for the match, first constable.” Raiden thanked his opponent humbly. With grace, Li Mei stood up. You couldn’t ignore the despondent look on her face. She looked at the young man for a moment. Then, she bowed and then took her leave. You watched her walk off, and couldn’t help but to feel bad for her. The crowd began murmuring as she left.

“My compliments, Raiden, on a well fought match.” Sindel commended the Earthrealm champion. She then stood up, addressing the crowd. “We are adjourned until first light, I hope to see you all at this evening’s banquet.” She announced to everyone, then everyone dispersed.

“Congratulations Raiden.” You said, walking over to the champion. You watched as his eyes seemed to light up at your praise. You pat his shoulder, shaking it just a bit. “Keep it up, and I might just have to reward you when we get back to Earthrealm.” You said, half joking. And yet, the man looked at you with surprise, and there was just a bit of color on his cheeks.

“Really?” He inquired with a hint of surprise in his voice. He blinked as you nodded, thinking of what type of food to make the man. Perhaps a dessert this time? Victory did taste sweet after all. As the others came to congratulate their peer, you backed off to stand next to Liu Kang. You didn’t want to crowd the man.

“I could see your training techniques shining through.” Liu Kang said, looking over to you as he also let the others converse with Raiden. You looked at him, basking momentarily in the praise he was giving to you. Sure, nowadays the praise you received from the god was not rare, but it was delightful to receive all the same. “I could have not chosen anyone better to train him.”

“You’re too sweet.” You reply, feeling bashful at the praise. You looked downwards, before looking back at the small group. “I must admit, I’m surprised with how quickly he adapted to using that amulet.” You said, recalling briefly how he even used techniques the old Raiden had displayed. “You must have taught him well.”

“I merely guided him.” The fire god admitted, his gaze also on the champion. “In truth, it was he who had discovered those techniques himself.” He paused, his hands folding in front of him. “It was almost…natural for him.” There was a tone in his voice…nostalgia? You eyed him, not knowing what to make of the way he spoke.

Did he know more than he was letting on?

“I see.” You replied, uncertain of how to properly respond. Suddenly, you felt like you were hit with a wave of nausea. You stumbled forward, gripping your head. Liu Kang reached out, grabbing your arm to steady you. The throbbing in your head had intensified.

“Are you alright?” Liu Kang inquired, his voice dripping with concern. His eyes searched you, trying to see what was wrong. Wearily, you nodded your head. You swallowed, trying to will away the pain. You closed your eyes as you steadied yourself. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you receiving visions again?”

“I’m fine.” You manage to get out, dancing around the question. “I…I just need some air. I’ll meet you at the banquet tonight.” You told him quickly, not certain what had suddenly befallen you. You hadn’t received any visions this time, just pain. You let out another hiss of pain. For a moment, you felt Liu Kang’s grip tighten, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right decision. Then, his hand let go of you.

“Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, quickly walking off in a direction, just wanting to get outside. You didn’t notice the eyes that fell on your retreating form. The hallways echoed with your footsteps, and you concentrated on the ground ahead, trying to retrace your steps to the front of the palace. You tried your best to ignore the Umgadi who seemed to stare at you curiously. They didn’t interfere though, seeing as you were just walking towards the outside. As you were met with the grand doors, you let out a sigh of relief as you quickly walked outside.

The fresh air was much needed. The intense pain in your head settled down. It was even more bearable than before, which was a much needed relief. Maybe being in there or witnessing all that had caused your head to be overwhelmed. You couldn’t tell, it was all too confusing. You walked forward and sighed, leaning on a railing that overlooked the city in the distance.

It was nice and peaceful out here.

“Ahem.” Jumping slightly, you looked over to the right and saw Li Mei standing out there. She looked awkwardly away, bowing her head as you looked at her. You had not even noticed her there. You looked at her, noting the puffy eyes and the tear stains on her face that you were able to barely see from her nearly hidden face.

Oh. You had interrupted a private moment.

You felt your face flush from embarrassment as you opened your mouth, not knowing how to respond. Unhelpfully, your mind finally granted you a brief memory of the woman before you. You remembered being friends, bonding over lost villages. You vaguely remembered a refugee camp. Well, none of that had been helpful to you in your current situation.

“I…um…sorry.” You managed to get out, turning your gaze away. Silence settled between you two, but it was far from the comfortable type that you were used to. Unable to bear the awkwardness, you spoke up again. “You fought well back there. I almost thought you would have won.” You admitted, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Thank you.” Li Mei said quietly, her voice hoarse. There was a tone to her voice which told you that your words did little to comfort her. She did lose still, after all. There was a moment where you heard her sniffles. Awkwardly, you searched your pockets, before you found a small packet of tissues. Good thing you carried those around with your medical pack. You held it out to her, who looked at it curiously before taking it. “Thank you…again.” She muttered, before using it. You nodded.

“No problem.” You said, the tension easing just a bit. “I’m not lying when I commend your fighting skills, you know.” You continued, your gaze dropping to look down at the waterfalls that decorated the palace. For a moment, you considered turning into a fish and swimming away to avoid this awkward conversation. You couldn’t just…leave her though.

“It wasn’t enough, though.” Li Mei responded, a hint of bitterness in her tone. She did seem to feel better despite this.

“I think that’s okay.” You say, shrugging. You realized what your words sounded like, and scrambled to clarify what you meant. “I mean that you did your best! And I think that’s commendable! It’s very much okay to be upset though!” You said, and you felt guilty as you watched the police officer just awkwardly nod. “Sorry, I’m not exactly the best at comforting people. I didn’t mean to interrupt your private moment either.”

“It’s alright.” The first constable said, her voice softer now as she fiddles with the rest of the packet of tissues in her hands. “I had been a wreck.” She admitted. She kicked her boot into the ground. “I don’t even know why I told you that, in all honesty. You’re a stranger.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to get things off your chest.” You offered an explanation, shrugging. “I don’t mind listening.”

“Are all Earthrealmers so trusting?” Li Mei inquired, changing the subject. You had a feeling she was not too trusting of you, which you figured was fair. Her stare lingered on you, a suspicious look on her face. You let out a small laugh.

“Not all, but there are certainly a lot of us who are.” You admitted. You looked over to the woman, nodding your head. “Sorry to intrude on your time, keep the tissues.” You apologized, bowing your head. You walked off, giving her one last final wave. You probably were making the situation worse by sticking around. “It was nice meeting you though, first constable.”

“It was nice meeting you too.”

You didn’t meet up with the others until later, taking the time to try and rest. Being away from people helped your headaches. You had found your room, which the Empress had so graciously allowed you and the others to have. Your room was quite quaint, and from your knowledge, it was fairly close to the hanging gardens, a place that had caught your eye.

Maybe you could take a walk around there later.

As you exited your room, you found yourself a bit lost, not knowing where to go exactly. Was the banquet to be at the hanging gardens? You vaguely recalled someone telling you that during the ride over, but your memory was failing you. You stood outside your door, deep in thought. You hardly noticed the footsteps heading your way.

“Lost?” A voice inquired. You looked up and noticed princess Kitana walking towards you. You blinked, surprised upon seeing the royal. You stared at her, feeling a memory pop up. She had a similar role in the past life. A princess trained in combat. There were a few more memories attempting to break through, but your head couldn’t make sense of it quite yet. You quickly realized that you had been staring. You bowed to her out of respect, which seemed to please her.

“If you’re lost, I can guide you to the royal banquet, if you wish.” The princess offered to you, a cordial smile upon her lips as she seemed to analyze you.

“That’d be appreciated, princess.” You said, accepting her offer. You followed her steps, matching her pace. She seemed a bit more friendly, than when you saw her earlier, even if it was just by a tiny bit. The hallways were filled with the echoes of your footsteps. You didn’t mind the silence, trying to dwell on the nagging feeling that you had. Why had you felt like you had seen her in your memories recently?

“Have you enjoyed your stay in Outworld so far?” Kitana inquired, peering over to you. You blinked, losing your train of thought. You hadn’t been expecting her to try and converse with you. You couldn’t tell if she was simply being polite or was actually interested in your thoughts. You just hoped it was the latter.

“I have, your realm is fascinating.” You admitted, reflecting on what you had seen so far. You were glad it was nothing like your memories. “It’s very pretty here. Where I come from, we don’t have sights like this.” You said, referring to both the life you currently lived and the one you remembered. “I’m fortunate to be able to witness this.”

“Indeed.” Kitana nodded. “Not many Earthrealmers get to witness the beauty of Outworld, much less in their prime.” You were momentarily puzzled by what she meant, then remembered that most perceived you as merely an Earthrealmer. You silently wondered if there were others like you out there, others who originated from other realms. You supposed not.

“It is a blessing.” You said, deciding to play along. Best not to raise any unwanted attention to your strange status. “Have you participated in many tournaments yourself?” You inquired, not knowing just how old the princess was. You assumed thousands of years, but just how many was something you weren’t quite sure of.

“Oh, I have participated in plenty.” The princess admitted nearly laughing at the idea. Which in all honesty, didn’t really give you any indicators to her age. She peered over to you, a thoughtful look on her face. “You are known as Lord Liu Kang’s companion, correct?” She inquired, tilting her head in your direction. You nodded, not sure where she was going with this. “What qualifies you to have such a high position?”

“Ah.” You said, realizing that many didn’t get the privilege of being called such a title. You weren’t sure if there even was someone who came before you who had the same title. You weren’t sure how to explain it, many didn’t question the title since it would be akin to questioning a god…but Outworlders were a bit more bold. “I’m not quite sure myself.” You lied. “I just help him with duties and training the champions.”

“I see.” Kitana said, though you could hear the curiosity in her tone. It was the type of curiosity which was not so easily quenched. “So you trained Raiden?” She inquired, her eyebrows raised. You nodded, and she seemed a bit surprised. “You two must be close.” She commented, which made you hum in thought. You nodded as you came to that conclusion as well.

“I guess we are.”

“We’re here.” She announced, and you found yourself outside where the Hanging Gardens must be. It looked wonderful at night and decorated. Not to mention, the smell of the food in the air was simply divine. She looked at you again, an amused smile on her lips. “You’re interesting, I would not mind talking to you again. Enjoy the feast.”

“You too!” You called out, feeling honored. You stared after her, your mind pulsing as it tried to remember desperately what role she had in your past life. You walked around the area, marveling at how the plants glowed in the cooler colors of the rainbow. You found yourself peering at the tables and found there were particular seating assignments. It didn’t take long for you to find your seat, and luckily you were one of the first there.

You were to be seated between Johnny and a person named Rain. You stared at the name, a faint recollection returning to you. The name was certainly familiar. The people to be across from you were Raiden and Liu Kang. You’d at least be among familiar faces. That, and you didn’t seem to be seated close to General Shao at all.

That was a relief.

Soon, people began to emerge from the palace and fill the area. The pressure in your head started up again, and you silently grieved over how you would not be able to enjoy this meal without at least a little bit of pain. With how strong the pressure was, you assume you would not be able to glean any new memories either. Still, you did not complain and sat down as the food was served.

Plates of delicacies were set before you, and as you peered at the cooked meat, you wondered if these creatures were the same ones as on Earthrealm. If there weren’t, you wondered if you could transform into it. When wine was brought about, you declined it. You were against the idea of becoming drunk, fearing your deepest secrets would spill from your very own lips.

You were not giving yourself the chance to sabotage the good things you had. So instead, you got some simple fruit juice.

You mostly indulged in the food presented to you, enjoying the difference in tastes. Mentally, you wondered if you could recreate these back at home. Now that would be something you could surprise Madam Bo with. You did listen in to the others conversations, but the one who you surprisingly ended up talking to the most was the man beside you.

“The Imperial Academy sounds wonderful!” You remarked, marveling at the story that Rain had indulged you in. He was much more friendly than you were expecting. When he had introduced himself as the high mage, you were intrigued immediately. You asked him about how he earned the title, and he informed you of his accomplishments. He seemed proud of his achievements.

“It is indeed.” He said, smiling your way. He nodded as he took a sip of the wine. “And you say Earthrealm has no schools of magic?” He inquired, an eyebrow raised at the words you had told him before. You nodded, chewing a piece of food.

“It doesn’t.” You confirmed, slicing the food on your plate to prepare another bite. “Magic is pretty foreign to our realm. It’s either a rare secret that is passed down through families, you are born with it, or you receive power from another object.” You explained, recalling the different ways that you knew people had received their special abilities. “I’m amazed magic is taught here.”

“I pity the fact that your realm doesn’t have the same privilege as our realm does.” He used your hands, eyebrows raising. “You mentioned your people rarely have magic.” You nodded, confirming what he heard. “Are you also magicless? Or are you part of the fortunate few to be blessed with those abilities?”

“I was fortunate to have those abilities.” You confirmed. Setting down your silverware, you held out your hand and transformed it into a bear’s claw. Rain’s eyes widened with fascination, and you felt proud of your little display of sorcery. “I was blessed to be born with animal shape shifting. I can transform parts, or all of my body at will to any animal I wish.”

“Fascinating. And you have not studied these abilities formally?” The high mage remarked, eyeing the transformed limb before you turned it back. “Your abilities remind me of another sorcerer in the royal court.” He said, piquing your interest. “He is busy with some duties, but I believe it would be of interest if you spoke with him.” He paused, looking at you once more. “Assuming you strive to learn about the limits of what you can do.”

“I am always looking to grow stronger.” You admit, and it seemed that something in your words struck a chord with the mage. His smile grew as he leaned towards you just a tiny bit more. “I wouldn’t mind conversing with this other sorcerer if he has similar abilities.” You say, nodding, taking note of the tip that he had given you. “What is his name?”

“His name is-” Rain began, but the conversation was cut short as he turned his attention to the front. You also turned to look, and noticed Empress Sindel had risen, holding her goblet in one hand. All of the conversations came to a halt as you watched the empress begin to give a speech.

“My husband Jerrod believed that the future of our realms lay together.” Sindel called out, a smile gracing her lips. Her attention traveled across the crowd. “Let us move forward in open dialogue, letting no secrets tear our bonds asunder.” You watched as everyone began to rise. Grabbing your own glass, you stood as well, raising it out.

“Your highness.” Raiden spoke suddenly, surprising you. “It’s an honor to be here and meet your people.” He looked around, his eyes landing on even the general who had shown him contempt earlier. “I can see there’s more here that joins us than divides us.” Despite the disapproving stare that you could see Shao was sending the champion, he only let out a small scoff.

Your distrust of the man grew, but at least he didn’t make an uproar.

“Well said, young man.” Sindel said, nodding in agreement to the little speech that Raiden had given out. Her smile grew as she lifted her goblet. “Now, let us enjoy the rest of the tournament together, in harmony, just as my husband would have wished.” With that, she lifted the cup to her lips and drank merrily.

With a cheer, everyone followed suit, taking a drink as their empress did. The rest of the feast ended quite well, with little to no issues as far as you were concerned. You had even conversed more with Rain, learning more about the magic culture that Outworld had been blessed with. He even offered to talk more another time, seeing your enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until you were in your room later that you realized that you had forgotten to ask what the sorcerer’s name was.

You couldn’t sleep.

That was to be expected. You always had trouble sleeping. Not to mention the fact that you were in an unfamiliar realm. Not to mention, when you tried to close your eyes, you could only see the lifeless body of Liu Kang. Your body was restless, and you paced back and forth in your room. You didn’t have a window here, the darkness only being abated by a simple crystal lamp.

You bit your lip as you tried to process all you had seen. You knew you definitely had a history with many people in Outworld. That was undeniable. Your memories only occurred when you encountered people you had at least known and talked to. It would be hard to try and figure out what your connection to all of them were though, since you would either have to stay around here for a prolonged period of time, or have private moments with them.

Somehow, you were more likely to encounter the latter, seeing how your time here was limited.

You sighed as you recalled the chilling vision of the general. Obviously, he had been some sort of villain previously. But was that still true? Your previous memories with Bi-Han had also been unpleasant. Maybe Shao was just an asshole? You weren’t certain, you hadn’t seen enough of him. But then again, you weren’t sure if you wanted to see any more of him.

With a sigh, you soon found your hand hovering over the handle of your door. Would it be weird to go and see if you could explore the palace? You figured that it would be considered off, and maybe even suspicious. They’d surely accuse you of trying to try and steal something. Maybe you could just explore the gardens. It’s not as if you could steal anything there.

That, and you weren’t sure if you could stand being in this room anymore.

You exited the room, slinking quietly into the hall. You masked the sounds of your footfalls, remaining quiet as possible to try and not disturb the others around. Sure you were restless, but you did not want to wake the others from your own energy.

“Where are you going?” A voice inquired, seeing you come down the hall. You walked closer, squinting to make out the figure. Ah, it was Tanya.

“I just walked to go on a walk.” You explained, hands up. “I’m rather restless, and the time difference between here and Earthrealm is great.” You gestured to the hall where you recollected the hanging gardens were. “I understand that it is late, but I merely wish to tour the hanging gardens, it looks beautiful at night.”

“Is that all?” Tanya inquired, assessing you with a hardened stare. You nodded, not minding how she glared at you. You knew she was only doing her job. She circled you, her gaze akin to a hawk. “Fine. I’ll escort you there.” She said, her tone cautious. You smiled gratefully at her for her generosity.

The walk there was silent, and unlike Princess Kitana, she offered no dialogue. Still, despite your gaze forward, you knew she was watching you closely. You didn’t mind, just wanting to go to the gardens. A memory began to surface, and you remembered a much different woman. One who sought to reclaim the glory of Edenia, a land that was once lost. How different she seemed now. Your mind did not buzz as much after, so you assumed you did not know her that much in the previous life.

“I’ll be here to make sure you don’t try to sneak in.” Tanya informed you once you two arrived, being transparent with her intentions. Her gaze narrowed as she scanned you up and down. “Do not try anything, Earthrealmer.” She warned.

“I promise I will not.” You said sincerely. Her gaze did not waver, but she did nod approvingly before turning away, letting you roam the gardens.

It was as breathtaking as before. The night sky was tinged with a hint of purple, and the night sky was so clear, letting the stars shine down on you. You briefly wondered if those same stars were the ones that those in Earthrealm would see.

Were Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang looking at the stars too, wondering how you were?

The plants around the area flourished with life, and the smell was simply divine. You still couldn’t get over how they had a natural glow. You were tempted to reach out and touch the flora, captivated with their looks. You figured that was rather rude though, so you held back. You did allow yourself to lean in and smell the flowers.

In the midst of your fascination, you did not look ahead, and soon found yourself bumping into a figure.

“Sorry!” You instinctively apologized as you backed up. You shook your head to see princess Mileena. She looked at you with a mixture of frustration and confusion. You offered her a weak smile, and you were granted a memory. A ruthless woman with orange eyes and sharpened teeth meant to tear into flesh instead of lips. She was a clone, not a twin.

Was this really the same person?

Quickly remembering your manners, you bowed to Mileena, who watched you closely with narrowed eyes. Your mind still buzzed, and you knew you must have a deeper past with her.

“What are you doing out here, Earthrealmer?” She quickly inquired, her eyes watching you with distrust. You held up your hands as you backed up, trying to display that you were not a threat. Irritation was evident, but you had a feeling that the origin of it was not related to you.

“I was just touring the gardens.” You quickly explained. “I couldn’t sleep. Tanya, one of your Umgadi, helped escort me out here.” You added on. You noted how she seemed to relax a bit upon the mention of the guard. She nodded, though you can sense she was on edge.

“I see.” The princess replied, her lips pursed. “Cause no trouble then.” Mileena instructed, then began to walk off. You sensed she was still mad about something, but what you could not fathom. You swallowed, and before you knew it, you opened your mouth.

“Wait!” You called out, turning to look at her. She halted, though did not turn around. “Would you like to hear a quick story?” You offered. Perplexed, she turned and looked at you. Her eyes scanned you, her eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused by your sudden offer. There was a moment of silence, and you wondered if it was presumptuous of you to have offered. You knew you were a people pleaser, but perhaps trying to offer something like a story to royalty was too far.

“What type of story?”

“I did not know Earthrealmers could have such fascinating adventures.”

“Well, it’s mostly a tale.” You said, smiling at the princess. You had recounted a movie that Johnny Cage had shown you. You did not know why you did this, but it didn’t sit right with you to see Mileena so upset. She was much more relaxed, the irritation that had rolled off of her in waves dissipating as you had told her of the stories.

“Still, the imaginations of your people are…intriguing.” Mileena looked down at her folded hands, a conflicted look on her face before she sighed. “Tell me, why tell me such things?” She inquired, her eyes narrowing towards you. “You do not seem the sort to randomly spew stories, unlike one of your other companions.”

“I thought a story might help.” You replied honestly. “You seemed, and forgive me for being blunt, stressed, princess.” You swallowed as you looked towards the stars. The princess in front of you was much different than you memories had shown. That was good. “I often know distracting myself from my troubles sometimes helps.”

“I see.” Mileena said, and you heard her shift as she looked away. “I suppose you have good instincts then.” She admitted, though you could tell she felt awkward that she had been read so easily. She paused as she seemed to ponder over something. “Are you often up this late?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You tell her, crossing your arms as you recalled the many other sleepless nights you had. It was rare you ever went to sleep as expected. “Walks often help clear my mind, so that’s why I went out into the gardens.”

“If you are to be up this late, then I suppose we’ll see each other more often.” Mileena said, and you looked at her in surprise. “I would like to hear more of your tales, they amuse me.” You smiled at her nodding.

“I would be honored to be of service.” You tell her, bowing once more. Mileena looked at you in approval, seeming to enjoy the way you held her in high regard. It was a breath of fresh air compared to her conspirators.

“Meet me here tomorrow, then.” She instructed. She began to walk off, before pausing once more. “Good night…” She spoke your name, testing it out. Your smile grew wide as you waved at her, feeling satisfied that you had helped her from whatever had irritated her.

“Goodnight, princess.”

Taking another moment to yourself, you let out a sigh as you turned your face to look at the purple skies once more. Despite the oddities of Outworld, so far your stay here has been quite…nice. A soft breeze passed, and you smiled.

Maybe you did belong, just a bit, in Outworld.

part twelve

tagged: @zhivaxo @koisuko

334 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 4 months

Text

Warmth

summary: now that reader got to look underneath the surface, they discover the not so pretty parts about being an inquisitor

relationship: inq!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: 18+, semi-graphic violence, mentions of blood, trauma, it gets pretty steamy, but still fade to black, implied sexual encounters, cal being emotionally constipated because what else is new, dom cal, soft cal, dirty talk? sorta?, talking about killing people, reader being a nerd, having a bath together, non-sexual nudity, reader gets choked, a lot is happening ok

word count: 12k … this one got away form me, i–

A/N: tbh when i started this i had no idea where i was going with it; this just took on a life of its own. i guess this one’s a little more grounded than the previous one, as reader and cal explore what it means to be an inquisitor. it’s a bit different to my usual stuff but i hope you like it nonetheless :’D

this can be read on its own, but it's technically a sequel to underneath!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It’s rather calm today, uneventful, as you sit at your office desk doing your work absent-mindedly.

You think back to your first night together with inquisitor Cal Kestis. It’s been some time since then, and you’re glad that there were more nights after that one.

Whatever is going on between you two, you try to be discreet about it. But it didn’t go unnoticed by others how Cal would approach you in the hallways to say hi or have a quick chat to check in on you. At first, you were nervous that it would affect your job in some way, negatively change your relationship with your boss and colleagues (not that you’re too close with them, but you still want to keep it professional and respectful with them). To your surprise though, the others seem to respect you more because of it. Apparently being able to hold your ground against an inquisitor isn't a small feat. ‘Hold your ground’... More like being wrapped around his finger.

You smile to yourself as you think back to a couple of nights back. Your heart quickens and the tip of your ears burn as you remember the trails of kisses Cal left on your skin, setting your whole body on fire, accompanied by words of praise and adoration, words only for you to hear.

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the slippery slope that is your current train of thought, you refocus on the screen in front of you and continue clacking away on the keyboard. You haven’t really defined or put a label on what you two have, but you know it’s special, and it is real. And you’re content with that for now. You like the current dynamic, where you have dinner together as often as your jobs will allow it, and you sleep over at his quarters every other day.

However, lately there’s been a habit of Cal’s that worries you a bit. There’s been several instances now when you wake up in the middle of the night and your hand reaches out to find him, but his side of the bed is empty. Sometimes he’s not in the room at all. Other times you can see him standing at the window with his back towards you; his red hair seems to glow above his dark silhouette contrasting with the dim fiery glow coming from Mustafar, appearing from behind a veil of clouds. You know he knows you’re awake, but you stay still, pretending to be asleep. Whatever is weighing on his mind, whenever he feels ready, he’ll come to you. And you’d wait for as long as he needs.

Still, getting up so often at night starts to take a toll. You notice he’s more irritable, you see the dark bags under his eyes. But when you try to confront him about it, he dismisses it as unimportant, saying he’ll get better sleep that night. But it’s just the same thing over and over again.

One night after dinner, you’re both sitting on his couch, and you finally manage to pry out what has got him unable to sleep: nightmares. You don’t really understand what the problem is; everyone gets nightmares every once in a while. Even if he were to move around a lot, you’d try to calm him down and get him back to sleep.

“Do you know how inquisitors are made?” he asks seemingly out of nowhere while on the nightmare topic.

You take a moment to think about it, and realise that you do, in fact, not. So you shake your head.

“The Empire captures Jedis, to torture and remake them however they see fit”, he explains and stops from a moment to let it sink in.

“Part of them is lost forever,” he continues, his gaze moving to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “The other seems to be trapped, unable to move or escape. Jedis are trained to not give in to hate or anger. For inquisitors, those are the only things keeping them going. Ironically, feeling an enemy’s life force fade away… It makes you feel alive again.” He looks down at his hands. “It lets you feel something again at all: the rage, towards oneself and towards everyone who’s ever wronged you. It’s an addicting feeling, all-consuming. But much too short. So you seek it out again. And the Empire has plenty of enemies they need gone, so you comply.”

He pauses, allowing you to interject if it’s too much, but you remain silent, listening attentively. You’ve never heard this side of him, of how it felt being an inquisitor.

“In those moments–” he goes on, clenching his hands into fists. “–feeding off of someone's desperation and pain that you can feel through the Force, it also opens a minimal gap for you to feel other things too. Things you thought you had forgotten or want to forget, like regret, fear and doubt. Or things you think you don’t deserve to feel anymore, like warmth. Happiness.” He pauses for a moment. “Love.”

You remain silent for a moment longer in case he wants to add anything else, but it doesn’t look like it. So you ask something instead.

“And what do you remember in those moments?”

Cal closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly, taking a deep breath.

“The smell of the temple library on Coruscant,” he replies. “The rare sound of the clones laughing in the mess hall. How safe I felt with my master.”

You tilt your head with a slight grimace; it breaks your heart to hear he thinks he can’t have those things anymore because of what he is now. Or rather, what he was made.

“You still deserve all of that, the warmth and feelings of safety,” you say, and reach out to run your fingertips over his cheek, but he turns away.

“You don’t think I’m a monster? Like everyone else does?” he asks with a wry chuckle. “You know what I do. I don’t deserve any of it.”

Or you.

He doesn’t say the words aloud, but they hang heavy in the air between you two.

“Okay, Kestis,” you say as you stand up, one hand stretched out towards him. “No moping, c’mon.”

He gives you a suspicious look, but accepts your hand nonetheless. You guide him to the washroom and run a bath for him, using one of your nicer bath bombs which you kept for special occasions.

“Time for some pampering. You deserve it,” you enunciate that last part. “Clothes off.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unsure of what you’re scheming. You can’t help but laugh at the faint blush spreading on his freckled face as you start to strip yourself.

“Now, don’t get any ideas. No funny business, I mean it. Just a bath,” you say, pointing a finger at him.

“Alright, alright,” he gives in with a low chuckle, and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Not long after, you’re both in the tub, with you sitting behind Cal, both enveloped by fragrant bubbles filling the warm water surface. You instruct him to lean back so you can wash his hair. Using your own shampoo instead of the boring, Empire-issue one, you lather up his hair, massaging his scalp, which earns you a grunt or two, and you can’t help a triumphant smile.

“Does it feel good?” you ask, and you get another grunt in response, so it must indeed feel good.

After you’re done with the hair, you tell him to turn around, and you squirt some soap onto a wash cloth. Starting at his neck, you scrub gently in circular motions, making your way down over his shoulder and his arms. Then you repeat the process on the other arm. As you lift it out from the thick layer of bubbles, you notice some reddening on his skin at his bicep. You take a closer look.

“Is that a new scar?” you ask.

“Yeah, don’t know where from though,” he says, and you get the impression that he does, but you don’t ask him about it.

“Is that so,” you mumble, then lean in to place a soft kiss on it. “There, now it will heal faster.”

Cal snorts and rolls his eyes, but his gaze remains soft.

“What, you don’t believe me?” you retort in mock offence. Then you start placing kisses on all his scars, the ones on his face, at his jaw and over his nose. The scars on his chest, his shoulders. You end by placing one last kiss on the tip of his nose, and grin up at him, but your face changes into worry when you see his expression. His brows are furrowed, as if in pain, his eyes shut tightly, his shoulders tense.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, and his hand comes out of the water to hold your face. You place your hand over his. He blinks a couple of times, and when he fully opens his eyes again, his features relax, and he smiles warmly. But what shocks you the most is that his eyes aren’t their usual yellow; they’re greenish blue. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His gaze is not only a different colour, but also as vulnerable and tender as you’ve never seen before in him.

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, leaning in to place a single, lingering kiss on your cheek.

Suddenly, his face contorts in pain again, this time more than before, and his hands shoot up to either side of his head, pressing onto his temples. When he opens his eyes again, they’re back to the yellow you know and love.

“My head is killing me suddenly,” he says through gritted teeth. “Can we wrap it up?”

“Uh, of course, yeah,” you answer, making quick work of rinsing off both of you and getting some towels.

Soon you’re both in bed, with your back against his chest, as he holds on to you like his life depends on it. Cal falls asleep first, but it’s rather restless. He keeps twitching and flinching, and with every sudden move, you’re dragged back out of your almost drifting to sleep. When he seems to finally have calmed down, you exhale deeply, eager to follow suit and drift into dreamland as well. Instead, Cal groans loudly, and you lean onto your side to look up over your shoulder. He looks distressed, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, placing your hand on his shoulder to try and wake him, but you retrieve it quickly when his eyes shoot open, wild and angry and disoriented.

“Prauf!” he screams, grabbing you harshly and rolling over so he’s straddling you, one of his hands fisting the sheets while the other goes to your throat, starting to choke you.

“C-Cal…!” you rasp out, holding onto his wrist to try and get him off of you. “You’re hurting me!”

He puts more weight into his hold, and you start seeing white dots sprinkled in your field of vision.

“It’s me, please,” you gasp, raising your hand to hold his cheek instead, and that seems to work. Slowly, his eyes seem to focus again, and his ragged breathing calms down slightly. When he finally sees you under him and understands what he is doing, he lets go and jumps off of you, off the bed, and slams his back against the opposite wall. You take a gulp of air, falling into a coughing fit.

“Are you okay?” you croak when you can finally talk again, and you see him holding his head, trembling.

“I- I’m sorry- This-” he starts, but can’t form a sentence. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he lets his hands fall back down to his sides. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Cal leaves the room before you can protest, and the doors close behind him. Just like that you’re left alone, wondering what in the world just happened. Does it have something to do with his eyes earlier? And what, or who, is Prauf?

— — —

The next morning, you’re awoken by the alarm clock on his night stand, and it takes you a couple of tries to turn it off. Sitting up on the bed with a yawn, you start remembering what happened the night before, and your hands comes up to your neck, where you can still feel some soreness from being choked like that.

You tiptoe out of the room, but just as you expected, Cal is gone. Taking a quick look at the clock, you yelp as you realise how late it is, and you hurry to the washroom to get ready.

Once you’re ready to go, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and realise that your neck has visible marks, clearly in the shape of a hand. You grimace slightly, propping up the collar of your uniform as high up as it will go, and it covers up most of it. As long as you don’t look up or stretch your neck too much, you should be good. So you leave Cal’s quarters and head to your office.

The whole day, you’re a bit distracted, hoping that Cal doesn’t feel too bad about what he did. You just want to help; sure, the nightmares are worse than you thought. But you’ll figure it out, together.

You don’t get to see or hear from Cal the whole day though, or the next, or the one after that. For almost a week, he seems to be avoiding you completely. He doesn’t answer your holocalls or texts. You only catch the occasional glimpse of him leaving a room just when you’re entering.

Tired of this game of cat and mouse, you decide to go find him. Instead, you end up cornered by the Ninth Sister. You’re slightly scared of her if you’re honest – no, scratch that. You are scared of her; she’s incredibly intimidating, not just by her sheer size and strength, but her presence in general. She always sounds mad, a deep frown etched into her face. So when she suddenly tells you to follow her, you don’t find it in you to refuse. To your surprise, she hunts down Cal as well, and brings you both to an empty hallway.

“Whatever is going on between you two: fix it!” she barks, then turns around with a scoff, muttering something about it being like scolding children.

You look around, and there’s no one around, so you look up at Cal’s helmet visor, trying to find his eyes under it, but obviously only seeing your own reflection.

“Hey,” you greet him, giving him a smile to signal you’re not mad. “I missed you.”

His shoulders slump slightly, and he looks around as well. Instead of answering, he grabs you by your elbow and guides you some steps down the hallway to a maintenance shaft. He flicks his wrist, and the doors open, he shoves you both inside and closes the doors.

Only now does he take off his helmet, and you can’t suppress a gasp, horrified at the sight. His hair is sticking out everywhere, the bags under his eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen, and he not only has new scratches on his face, he also a black eye that seems to be a couple of days old.

“What happened to you?” you ask, and you’re aware that it’s not a great opener, but you’re genuinely worried. Your hands gingerly run over his face as you inspect the damage. Cal shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’ve been distracted lately and it affected my performance,” he says with a wry smile. “So they had to correct my bad behaviour.”

You take a moment to make sure you’re properly understanding what he’s implying. By the look in his eyes, kinda sad and a bit ashamed, it seems you are.

“Do you get corrected often?” you ask carefully.

“Sometimes. When I get greedy,” he answers. You think back to your conversation about being an inquisitor, and remember how he said that he only got a glimpse back into his own heart when he was out there, doing horrible things. Does that mean he was defying orders just to be able ‘to feel something at all’?

“Do you usually get corrected… after being with me?” you ask this time, almost scared of the answer.

“It’s not your fault,” he indirectly answers your question, taking your hands in his. “Being with you is just as addicting as being out there. I’m just… weak like that, I guess.”

“Oh, Cal,” you whisper, giving his hands a squeeze. “The warmth you yearn for and that you seek, it may make you feel vulnerable, and you think that makes you weak, but all it does is make you real. You’re real, Cal, and so am I. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You don’t need to be greedy; I’m here, I always will be. You deserve that warmth, and if you’ll have me, I’ll give you all of it.”

His brows rise slightly in surprise, and you realise you basically just professed your love for him. Heat erupts on your face and in your panic, you grab onto his collar and kiss him, hard at first, but then you’re both moving in unison with a rare softness you don’t always get to experience from him.

Suddenly he pulls back with a pained grunt, and he slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor.

“Cal, are you okay? What’s wrong?” You kneel down beside him, and you lift his face to look at him. Once again, you’re met with blue eyes, this time like an ocean about to erupt into stormy waves. He’s close to tears, and he looks so scared, so small, it breaks your heart. If only you knew how to mend the broken pieces of his soul, you’d kiss them all better if you could.

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” he suddenly says, hugging you into his chest. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again. What if I don’t snap back in time? What if I do something worse?”

You rack your brains for something reassuring to say, and finally land on something.

“You know, as a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare,” you start, hoping to not only get your point across better with your story, but also getting him out of the rabbit hole he was about to go down. “I kept dreaming that my parents abandoned me. We would all be together somewhere, and I looked away for a moment, but by the time I turned back around, they were gone. And I would feel so alone, and full of dread, I felt like I was going crazy. I’d often wake up screaming and crying.”

You take a moment to gauge his reaction; talking about your pasts has been kind of a taboo topic between you two. He openly said once that he doesn’t want to talk about his past, which you respect, but it also meant he never asked questions about yours. Maybe he’s scared to know more because it would reawaken memories of his own. Maybe he just doesn’t want to pry. Maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, you’re now crossing that invisible line and hope it won’t scare him away completely.

“No matter how much my parents reassured me that they wouldn’t abandon me, it always played out the same,” you continue your story. “One night, I was so scared of having the nightmare again, that I straight up refused to go to sleep. That’s when my mother told me this: sometimes, dreams are just your mind and soul processing something that actually happened. But other times, it’s the mind’s way of trying to find closure for something that hasn’t happened. So even if the dream isn’t nice, you have to wait until the end. Only then will your mind be able to tell you what it needs, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear.”

Wiping the silent tears off of Cal’s cheeks, you give him a comforting smile.

“And I know this doesn’t compare in any way to the nightmares you have,” you say. “But, maybe, you just need to let them play out. What if it’s your subconscious trying to tell you something and you cut it off before it has a chance to? What if… it’s the Force trying to tell you something important?”

This seems to click in some way with Cal, and he takes a moment to think over your words.

“Whatever happens, when you wake up you won’t be alone. I promise”, you assure him.

Cal is about to say something, when his eyes shut closed and he claims his head hurts again. He blinks a couple of times, holding his head, and his eyes switch between greenish blue and yellow.

“Don’t block it out,” you encourage him, removing his hands from his temples and bringing them to your face instead. “I take back what I said earlier. You can be greedy, but not out there. Be greedy with me. Take everything you want, Cal. As much as you need. It’s all for you.”

He blinks one, two more times, his eyes fully reverted to their usual fiery yellow, and the fear from before is completely gone, now replaced with something sharp and dark.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says through gritted teeth, his whole body trembling in anticipation or self-control, maybe both.

“But I do,” you reassure him, climbing over his legs so you’re sitting on his lap, and gently press your forehead against his. “That yearning is eating you up from the inside. You’re hurting. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

Cal’s hands wander from your cheeks over your shoulders, down your arms, until they rest on your waist. He looks up at you, still a little unsure, and you roll your hips against his to further encourage him and tell him it’s okay. You both can’t help the low moans that escape your lips.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you whisper, leaning in and stopping just above his lips, where you feel his shaky breath. “Consume me until there’s nothing left.”

That seems to snap him back to his usual, more dominant self that he is in intimate moments like this. Adjusting your position in his lap, he presses your body into his, kissing you passionately. It’s just as intense as your make-out sessions usually are, but there’s something else lingering as well. You can’t quite describe it, but it’s like there’s a newfound meaning behind his actions. As if he is trying to pour his whole being and soul into it in an attempt to reach you. And it does. In fact, he’s using all his senses, Force included, to breathe in all of you, and his presence envelops you like it never has before.

You start undoing both your uniforms, and you pull back for a moment to take a much needed breather.

“You’re doing great,” you pant, not really thinking about what you’re saying as you try to undo the clasps and buttons as fast as your trembling hands will allow. “Such a good boy for me.”

To say that his whimper takes you by surprise, is an understatement. You stop your movements and pull back a little more to take in the image before you: Cal’s partially exposed chest is rising and sinking rapidly, a violent blush spreading from the tip of his ears all the way down to his sternum. His usual confidence and cockiness seem gone, and biting his bottom lip, hair completely dishevelled, he gives you a flustered look you’ve never seen on him.

“Don’t call me that,” he breathes, trying to pull you closer again so you can’t look at him.

“Call you what, a good boy?” you tease him, and his whole body tenses up under you as he takes a sharp breath. “I think you rather like it, no? Being such a good boy for me. C’mon, keep going.”

He relentlessly attacks your neck just the way he knows you like, biting and licking and nibbling along your pulse.

“Ah, kriff, these uniforms, I swear–” you curse under your breath into Cal’s temple, trying to rid yourself of your jacket without losing contact with him. You only manage to push it down to your elbows. Cal’s hands slip under your shirt and start wandering up and up. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, goosebumps erupting on your arms and back as you arch yourself into his hold. Another moan escapes your throat as he bites down hard, immediately licking the darkened spot. You finally manage to shake off your jacket and–

Your comlink beeps and you groan. Cal seems unbothered, as he’s still going, now moving back up to finding your lips, tongue darting out to meet yours. After blindly tapping around to find the device in a pocket of your discarded jacket, you take it out and look at the caller ID. Your blood freezes when you recognise it to be your boss. Right, you’re in a maintenance shaft half naked with the inquisitor when you should be at your office.

Shoving Cal away begrudgingly, he growls in annoyance, about to flick the still beeping comlink out of your hand.

“Wait, wait, it could be important,” you say through heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down enough to sound somewhat normal. Cal merely pushes his face into your chest with a defeated sigh. After clearing your throat, you take the call.

“Took you long enough, officer,” your boss says in a clearly annoyed tone that makes you cringe slightly.

“Sorry, Sir, I was, uh, occupied,” you stumble over your words and mentally slap yourself. Cal doesn’t even try to hide his snort at your response. You smack him lightly on the back of his head.

“Whatever you were doing, officer,” the man says in a way that he knows exactly what you were doing and with whom. “Prepare your things and get ready, you’re to leave for an off-planet mission by tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, instinctively straightening your back.

“You’re to meet us at the hangar by 1900 hours. And officer,” he adds with a sigh, his voice adopting a strange tone of embarrassment, almost. “If inquisitor Kestis happens to be there, tell him to come as well.”

“Understood, Sir,” Cal replies with no qualms, and you’re petrified.

After one more sigh and some unintelligible curses, your boss hangs up.

You blink a couple of times, trying to recover from the shock. Great, now your boss knows for sure what you were up to.

“We’re not done here,” Cal says, as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth and stands up, helping you get on your feet as well. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

“At a different location though, I would hope,” you chuckle as you two get ready to leave the little room.

After a quick detour to the nearest washroom, where you both fix your messy hair and uniforms (his smirk as you’re barely able to cover all the hickeys with your propped up collar will be the end of you), and one to your office for you to pick up some supplies, you make your way to the hangar. A group of people is already waiting for you two; two purge troopers, two stormtroopers of your own squad your boss stand next to Cal’s ship, a zeta-class shuttle: black, sleek and menacing.

After the debrief, you review the data on your holopad. It’s a mission on another planet, and you’re always excited to get one of those, as you don’t get to go out “into the field” often. In this case there’s a possible rebel cell, but their transmissions are set up in a way that decoding them from the Fortress Inquisitorius would take a considerable amount of time, so it’s quicker to get close to the base and physically infiltrate their comms system to get the information you need. Additionally, there’s been a tip about a possible Jedi being hidden within the rebel group, that’s why they’re sending an inquisitor as well. You’re to stay on the ship working on the decryption while they do their thing.

The ship takes off, and once you’re far enough, you make the jump into hyperspace. During the trip, both the purge troopers and Cal sit unnervingly still, probably power napping and saving their energy for the possible fight ahead. Your two troopers are in the cockpit flying the ship and having a chat, so you have a lot of time for yourself. You mainly work on preparing your equipment, revising your software and getting all the tools you’d need ready. It doesn’t take long for you to have everything prepped; the moment you’d enter the planet’s atmosphere, your scans would tell you the rebel’s comm system location within seconds, and once you land, you can head right out to hook up your own tech. There’s still a good portion of waiting after you’re done though, and with the constant hyperspace humming, you find yourself dozing on and off, replaying the earlier conversation you had with Cal in your mind, wondering how to act and what to say once you get back to base.

After what feels like an eternity, the piloting troopers finally announce you’re here. The drop out of hyperspace shakes you slightly, and as you look out the window, you see your goal: a small planet on the very edge of the Outer Rim; you’ve never been this far away from the Core Worlds, and as you see the vast expanse of pitch black void surrounding it, you notice the lack of starts in the distance, and you almost let yourself be swallowed by the dread that runs a cold shiver down your spine. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of any distracting thoughts and get to work. As expected, your holopad is already beeping, alerting you that it found your target location. You stand up from your seat and approach the cockpit, for which you have to walk past Cal. His helmet visor is aimed at the floor in front of his feet, and he doesn’t look up as you walk by. For all you know, his eyes could be trained on you though; there’s no way to know for sure.

Standing between the pilot seats, you show one of the troopers the coordinates on your holopad, and he punches them into the console. Holding onto the back of the seat, you stand there as the ship approaches the area you marked, and the landing is swift and almost motionless. So this is what the good ships feel like, you think to yourself. And the troopers seem to be thinking the same, if the slow whistle coming from one of them is anything to go by.

You turn around to go inform the purge troopers you’re here, but Cal is already standing in front of you, blocking your exit from the cockpit.

“My men and I will look for our target, you two stay here,” he says as he points at the two stormtroopers. Then he gestures towards you with his head. “The officer is in charge while I’m gone, and better be unharmed when I come back, understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they respond in unison.

Cal seems to linger on your form for a second longer, then turns on his heels. The cargo door opens and the smell of humid, tropical air reaches your nose. Cal and his troopers take off, and you nod to yourself with an ‘alright’, as you get to work. Connecting a couple of wires here and there, you call one of the troopers to you.

“We need to bring this–” you point at your contraption. “–to the base of this structure.” You show him the red dot on the holomap at the edge of a water body. “That seems to be the backbone of their communication system. There have to be wires that we can hook the machine into.”

“Understood.”

He picks up the machine and starts heading out. You gather a couple more tools, throw them into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you approach the cargo door, you turn to the other trooper one last time.

“You stay here and hold down the fort. Keep the usual channels open for us and for C- Inquisitor Kestis.”

“Yes, Sir!”

And off you go.

After a while, you get to the point at the cliff as indicated by your holomap. Both you and the stormtrooper stand at the ledge, carefully looking down. At the base, a broad river runs along the cliffside. Scanning the rocky walls with your eyes, you find what you’re looking for.

“Jackpot,” you say, pointing at something, and the trooper follows your line of sight. “That’s our transmitter.”

It’s essentially a big metal box built into the side of the cliff, with an antenna on one side and a rather wonky satellite dish on the other, partially hidden under a rocky overhang. You’d have to climb down quite a bit to reach it.

“We didn’t bring any climbing equipment,” the trooper points out.

“We improvise,” you retort with a shrug.

You take the rope out of your bag and tie one end to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough, and the other around your legs and waist.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir,” the stormtrooper starts. “If anything happens to you, Inquisitor Kestis will–” He’s stopped by the stern look you shoot him.

“I know how to take care of myself, trooper,” You say firmly. “Now, help me get down there.”

You plug in one of the thicker wires into your machine, holding the other end between your teeth. The trooper helps you climb down the cliffside step by step, slowly letting you down. Once you reach the desired point by the transmitter, you take the wire out of your mouth.

“Here’s good! Hold it there!” you call. A grunt is all the response you get.

You plug in the wire, and your holopad starts beeping, starting to intercept the messages. But they’re not written words, voices or even proper sounds, it just sounds and looks like static.

“Guess I have to calibrate my receiver,” you think aloud. “Pull me up!”

Climbing back up the way you came, you untie the rope the moment you find your footing again, which left a slight stinging sensation at the back of your legs, and you absent-mindedly rub your bum to alleviate the sensation. You notice the trooper giving you a strange look, and heat spreads on your face.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say as you straighten up, looking for an order to give. “Go, uh, go collect the rope.”

“Yes, Sir…” he responds with a snicker.

You roll your eyes, but you’re not really mad at him. That must have just looked really funny. Either way, time to get to work: you kneel down next to your contraption, holding your holopad next to it, adjusting some levels here and pressing buttons there. But no matter how much you try to isolate the signal, it still doesn’t get cleaner or clearer.

The trooper places the neatly tied up rope next to your bag which you left on the ground, then holds up his blaster, undoing the safety. You look up at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure…” he answers. “I have a bad feeling about this place. Let’s get what we came for and go back to the ship.”

“Okay…” you stretch out the word, unsure what put him on edge like that. Yes, there’s known aggressive fauna here, but all in all the planet is abandoned, there's no particular danger. Not documented, anyway. You keep looking at the static on your holopad, trying to make sense of it. But the more you see, the less random it seems. That’s when it dawns on you.

Suddenly, you furiously type away on your pad, trying to translate the encoded message, but it’s just gibberish. You tilt your head in confusion, revising your translation; it should be right. But it isn’t. Why?...

“Oh!” You say after a few more seconds, getting up to your feet so quickly that it almost makes you dizzy. “Oh, this is actually quite brilliant. Ah, these rebels sure are getting crafty. Come here, you’re gonna love this.”

The stormtrooper shoots one last look over his shoulder into the vegetation, then turns to you, still holding tightly onto his blaster.

“You ever heard of Dadita?” you ask, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“No?”

“Of course you haven’t,” you say with a click of your tongue. “It’s an ancient Mandalorian code consisting of short and long bursts of static, where each combination stands for a letter. But these rebels combined it with Mon Calamari blink code, which is the same principles but with light sequences. They used Dadita static, but the sequences actually correspond to the blink code letters. No wonder back at HQ they thought we couldn’t intercept proper comms. It’s made to look like static.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you get out of the trooper, still nervously looking around.

“C’mon, this is cool,” you try, but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, you add, “You know what, nevermind. Let’s just go back.”

At least Cal will show interest in your find. Or so you hope. Speaking of, you wonder how he’s doing. You know you shouldn’t ping him as it could interfere with his mission, but you just hope they made it back safely to the ship by the time you’re there.

“Contact the ship, will you? And tell them we’re going back,” you instruct. The trooper presses some buttons on the console on his wrist.

“Ground team to ship, do you copy?”

The only answer is static.

You look in the direction of the ship as the trooper tries again, and you feel something cold on your nose, then on your cheek. You look up; it’s starting to rain. Great. Your machine shouldn’t have trouble with a little rain, but you still don’t feel great about it. You kinda made it up on the spot, so there are a couple of exposed wires.

“We need to go get something to cover the receiver. Any answer yet?” you ask, and it’s really starting to come down now. You have to blink several times to get the water out of your eyes.

“No,” he responds, nervously looking around. “I told you, something is wrong.”

“Okay, no need to panic,” to try to calm him down; his demeanour is starting to make you nervous as well. “Let’s just quickly go back; I'm pretty sure I saw a piece of canvas that we can use to–” You sling your bag back onto your shoulders as you speak, but the inertia of the bag makes you lose your balance for a second, and with the ground now turning into mud, your boot loses its grip on the ground, making you slip and your knees give out under you.

“Officer!” You hear the stormtrooper call as he stretches out his arm in a vain attempt to catch you, but you’re already falling backwards off the cliff. Seemingly in slow motion, the trooper and the treeline disappear from your view, being replaced by a grey, cloudy sky. You close your eyes, feeling the droplets on your face and the air rushing by your ears, and you’re strangely calm. All you can think of is Cal.

Are you okay? I wish we had properly made up before this.

When your back hits the water of the river at the base of the cliff, your survival instincts are awoken all at once. The current is stronger than what it seemed from up the ledge. You swim with all your might, trying to stay afloat and taking gulps of air whenever you can. it isn't long until your arms are burning from the sudden effort, and you scan your surroundings, desperate to find something to hold onto. The river seems to open up and away from the cliffside. Here, the shores are filled with mangrove-like trees, their roots thick and plenty, some of them stretching out like low-hanging branches over the water surface. You try to hold on to one, but your gloves don't provide much of a grip, so you take them off and ditch them. Nearing the next big branch, you ready yourself and throw your upper body out of the water so that you can hold onto it with both your arms, and it works. Slowly, you inch closer and closer to the tree trunk, until you reach the shore. Letting yourself fall onto the mossy ground, you take some deep breaths trying to calm down your breathing, racing heart and aching limbs.

You pat your uniform and conclude that you lost your bag somewhere along the way, which had your holopad and all your equipment. You sit up and wipe the back of your sleeve over your eyes, but the constant rain keeps hitting your face. You pop open the collar of your uniform and it feels like ridding yourself of a chokehold. The uniforms were never particularly comfortable, being on the stiff side, but drenched like this, it’s much worse.

Looking around, you stand up; you have no idea where you are or where the ship could be. Giving yourself one more pat down, you find your comlink in one of your zipped up pockets, and thank the Maker under your breath.

“Hello? Does anyone copy?”

You can hear static, so you assume that it is working, but it’s the mic or speaker, or both that are ruined. At least from the ship they should be able to locate you with it.

A gust of wind makes you shiver slightly; despite it being a rather tropical climate, being completely wet does make you feel the dropping temperatures that will probably await you at night. In fact, it’s starting to get dark.

They’ll find me. It’s fine. I just have to make sure I’m alive by the time they get here, hah, you tell yourself with a wry chuckle.

First thing you have to do is seek shelter from the relentless rain. Hugging yourself, you cringe at the sensation of your feet against the wet boots, but you still take step after step into the vegetation, looking for some place to dry off. Completely lost and giving up on the idea of ever getting out of this maze by yourself, the only information you keep in your head is the direction of the river; you'll be needing water after all. For now, you could just drink rain water though, so you venture further and further away into the forest. With the dense branches sporting big, round leaves, they already stop part of the rain, but not enough. Finally, you come across a big tree, the roots lifted into the air so that they form something akin to a cage, and the ground beneath it is dry; that's exactly what you need.

Hurrying through the gaps between the roots, you take off your boots, jacket and trousers, giving everything a good squeeze to wring as much water out as possible. Left in your underwear and a black short sleeve shirt, you wonder what to do next. You’d need food soon. You sigh, leaning back onto the rough surface of the tree.

“This is exactly why I wanted an office job,” you say bitterly. So much for being excited about a mission ‘on the field’.

For now, you decide to wait out the rain, which could hopefully stop just as suddenly as it started, and you just sit there, holding your comlink in your hands, looking at it intently.

After a while, the rain finally seems to subside, and while your clothes are nowhere dry, you don’t exactly want to explore a jungle half naked. So you put your trousers back on, which takes a while, as the wet fabric keeps sticking to your legs. After what feels like another workout, you finally zip them up, and put on your equally wet boots. Oh, how you crave a warm shower right now.

Taking the jacket into your hands, you feel the wet fabric and decide to leave it. Your skin dried much faster, so it was better to be a little cold without a jacket than very cold with a drenched one. Placing your comlink into your pocket, you go foraging for some sort of fruit or berry. After the rain and with no equipment, you doubt you’d be able to start a fire to cook anything, so you have to find something you can eat raw.

As you’re picking some reddish purple berries from a bush and contemplating if you can eat them, you hear some rustling behind you. Dropping the berries and immediately turning around, you’re met with a human and you notice several things. First of all, they’re holding their side, which is bleeding a lot, their clothes stained in a dark red. Second, you see the lightsabre in their hand, emitting a blueish hue, its electric hum the only sound aside of their ragged breathing. And third, you see the plea in their deep brown eyes, silently asking you for help. Almost in the same moment, you also see their eyes dart down to your uniform and back up to your own, realisation spreading on their face. And you’re conflicted.

You know who’s after them. You know what’s going to happen. So it’s not like you don’t want to help; you can’t. If the circumstances were different, would you help? You realise you don’t want to know the answer to that. Either way, you're unarmed, hungry and shivering, so you can't really put up much of a fight against them either.

“I'm sorry,” you say instead, and you're not really sure which part you're apologising for. You're about to take a step to the side and gesture them to go past you, but you hear footsteps approaching quickly.

The stranger winces in pain as they try to take another step, but collapse onto the ground, the sabre retracting with a whirr. They look up at you again, this time enraged, a deep frown etched into their face, and you're about to say something, but a modulated voice is quicker.

“Officer, what are you doing here?” It’s the purge trooper.

“I- I fell,” you say sheepishly. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Well, good job stopping our target. It’s a slippery one, this one.”

The trooper picks up the sabre, and turns around the Jedi onto their back with his boot, earning a pained grunt. From behind him emerges Cal out of the vegetation, and you’re horrified at how he looks: helmet gone, hair wild, and face partially covered in blood. If it’s his own or not, you can’t tell. He looks frustrated and beyond angry. You’re about to say something, asking if he’s okay, but the sharp look in his eyes freezes you in your spot.

“It’s the end of the line now, Jedi,” he spits through gritted teeth, and holds his red lightsabre a little tighter. He shoots you a quick look, then at his trooper, and motions with his head to the side. The man nods and turns to you, grabbing you by your bicep, and starts dragging you away.

“Wait, wait!” You try to turn back around, but the trooper’s grip keeps facing you forward. When you reach a thick tree, he slams your back into it rather harshly, and tells you to stay there. He doesn’t move from in front of you, holding onto his electrostaff with both hands. It emits an electric crackle of purplish hue, clearly warning you not try anything funny. And to be honest, you don't have the energy right now, so you just rest the back of your head against the bark. You can hear the stranger starting to plead for their life, trying to get under Cal’s skin, saying something about a time before being an inquisitor, but Cal is fresh out of patience, and the Jedi chokes on their words. Their laboured breathing fills this corner of the jungle, and after the sound of a lightsabre swinging and the distinct sizzling of flesh, there is silence.

The purge trooper stretches his neck to see past the tree, then gestures to you with a quick nod.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you comply.

Cal stands in front of the body, partially shielding it from your view, and you walk past him as well, following the trooper. As you three make your way back, you notice there's no trace of the second purge trooper that had left with them.

“The other one's dead,” Cal says before you can even ask, and gets handed the Jedi’s lightsabre, which he clips onto his belt. “Why are you down here? And where's your jacket?” You sigh.

“I fell,” you say, and it still sounds as stupid as it did before. “I slipped, and fell down the cliff. I left my jacket by the river. But before that I did get the receiver hooked up and I know how to decrypt the messages. Do you know if my squad made it back to the ship?”

“Don’t know, our comms don't really seem to work down here.” He suddenly stops and looks around, gesturing to a different direction, and the purge trooper takes off through the bushes. Cal turns back to you, and you shoot him a questioning look.

“You fell from a cliff? Just what were you doing.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly distressed by your reckless actions. “I pinged you several times, and you didn't answer. I knew it probably was the signal being jammed but… I thought that– What if–”

“Hey, it's okay. I'm okay.” You place your hand on his chest and that's when you notice several gashes on his uniform. “Are you okay, though?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his worry replaced by exasperation.

“You really shouldn't have–”

He stops in the middle of his sentence and takes a quick step back away from you as both your heads turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. The purge trooper approaches Cal and hands him his helmet. Or what's left of it, anyway. The visor is broken, the part that sits above the jaw seems to have been sliced off entirely, and there are several dents on the other side. Your eyes meet Cal’s again in worry, but he avoids your gaze entirely.

“Let’s move.”

The trek back to the ship is quick, as per the relentless pace of the two men. There are some obstacles on the way though, where you need a little help. When crossing a river with a particularly strong current, you lose your footing on the rocky riverbed, and find yourself holding onto the next best thing, which happens to be the purge trooper. He lets you hold him as he guides you across to the other side, where he quickly shakes you off. You wonder if he’s really that uncomfortable to be close to you, and you make a mental note not to ask purge troopers for anything in the future, especially if it entailed physical contact of any kind. But what you didn't see were the Force daggers that Cal was stabbing into the back of the poor man’s head.

Not long after the river, you come face to face with an abrupt slope with a flat, rocky surface. It’s almost like a wall, leading to the plateau above. It’s too high to jump and too even to climb, so you wonder how you will get up there. Once again, Cal seems to read your mind, as before you can even ask, you see him essentially levitating up and onto the ledge above. Now that's a handy Force trick. You expect him to throw down a rope or something for you to hold onto, but instead, you're being lifted off the ground by an invisible force, as is the trooper next to you. Once you reach the top, you’re gently placed back on solid ground, while the trooper is let go far earlier, which he is unprepared for, so he falls forward and onto his knees with a grunt. But he gets back up onto his feet without complaints or remarks, simply dusting off his thighs and continuing the way back to the ship. You want to scold Cal a little for being unnecessarily mean, but the harshness still etched into his face, now stained with dry and flaky patches of blood, refrains you from making any comments.

Finally, you make it back to a place you recognise, where the ship isn’t far away. You run off first, despite your muscles screaming in pain to finally give them some rest. The cargo door is closed, and you bang your hand on it twice.

“Open up!” you order, and the ramp opens with a mechanical hiss, then gets lowered down. You quickly climb up before it even completely reaches the ground.

“Officer!” both stormtroopers exclaim in unison and in apparent relief when they see you alive and in one piece. One of them runs off to the equipment storage to get a blanket for you, and you gladly accept it. Only now do you realise how cold and stiff your whole body feels.

“Have you been intercepting the messages?” you ask, grabbing a spare holopad to log into your receiver’s software to start decrypting.

“Yes, and as you said, it’s a coded transmission made with static bursts” the first trooper explains, the one you had been on the cliff with. “I covered up the receiver with the canvas as you asked, and we’ve been monitoring it this whole time, but we didn’t know how to decrypt it without you…”

“That’s okay, that’s my job after all.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. “I’m just glad you’re both alive.” You smile genuinely at them, and you wonder if they're smiling back at you from under their helmets as well. The Empire may think that stormtroopers are easily replaceable, but this is your squad. And you intend to take care of them.

You take a step back to take a seat and start decrypting, but your back bumps into something, or rather someone. You turn around just in time to see Cal gesture to the purge trooper, who once again merely gives a short nod, then heads to the cockpit.

“Let’s get out of here,” is the last thing you hear him say before the cockpit and cargo doors close with a hiss, and the engines start.

Cal and you just stand there for a moment, looking at each other.

“Are you going to say something?,” you go first. “Because if not, I have work to do.”

You sit down and he doesn't stop you, instead taking a seat next to you. You type away on the holopad, letter by letter, and the message starts forming. By typing with both hands you’re quicker, but the blanket keeps slipping down from your shoulders. Cal notices and picks it up, wrapping your form in it properly again, and then leaving his arm around you so it would stay there. You give him a quick ‘thanks’, but don't stop what you're doing. For a moment you wonder if you're giving him the silent treatment, and if so, why, but you really have to get this thing decrypted, so you focus on that for the time being.

At some point, Cal carefully places his head on your shoulder, and when you don't shoo him away, he properly gets comfortable. By then, you've written a program to automate the decoding. It's a bit crude and not your best, but it works. Now the decrypted message appears much faster, and it seems to be mostly correct, except for the occasional letter here and there. The message is still clear and understandable, though, and you can feel your focus and energy quickly depleting, so you decide it’s good enough for now. You set it up so that the live decryption gets sent back to HQ as your receiver feeds the rebel comms into it.

Setting down your holopad on the seat next to you with a yawn, you gently stroke Cal’s cheek.

“You awake?” you ask softly, and he hums.

“You done?” he asks back, and you hum as well.

Then you sit in silence again. The constant rumbling of the ship, combined with your adrenaline completely gone now, is all inviting you to the sweet embrace of sleep.

“We have to talk when we get back,” is the last thing you manage to mumble before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.

— — —

You wake up to your shoulder being shaken and the repeated call of your name. Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight, immediately slumping back down with a wince as your whole body aches, both because of the whole river action earlier, and sleeping in such a weird position.

Standing up with a grunt, you shiver as you look down at yourself: still without a jacket, your boots and trousers are stained with dirt, moss and sand. Your upper half must look even worse. Especially with the marks on your neck and who knows where else, courtesy of the inquisitor himself. So you grab the blanket and wrap it around yourself like a hooded poncho of sorts, hoping to hide most of your face and dirty clothes.

“I called earlier and they're waiting with a stretcher for you at the hangar,” Cal says as you try to hide both your head and legs, but the blanket clearly isn't big enough for that. You turn around with a raised eyebrow. “They're going to wrap you up and take you straight to medbay. So no one will see you.”

“How–”

“I may or may not have said that you might have a slight case of hypothermia.”

“We were on a planet with tropical climate,” you retort.

“I was convincing,” is all he says.

You can't question him further, as you feel the familiar sway of a landing ship. When it hits the ground with a ‘clunk’, everything happens so quickly: the cockpit and cargo doors open, and Cal suddenly picks you up bridal style. He places you onto the promised stretcher which is already waiting at the base of the ramp, and two med troopers quickly wrap you up in an emergency foil blanket. Just like that, you're taken to the medbay.

After your check-up, they tell you that other than being a little shaken and dehydrated, you're fine. You're free to stay a little longer to rest up, but you can also leave if you feel like it. And just like that, you're alone in the little room. How Cal managed to convince them to give you the private medbay room, you still don't know. But at this point, you should probably be used to it. Inquisitors seem to get almost anything they want here. Albeit at a cost.

The cot is decently comfy, and you consider staying here for a couple more hours to nap and rest up, knowing you won't be interrupted. So you get comfortable with a sigh, and just as you find a good position to sleep in, the doors open. You groan, lifting the blanket over your face.

“I thought you were asleep,” Cal says as the doors close behind him and he approaches your bed.

“I was about to be,” you reply with a sigh and fold the blanket back down to sit up properly. You're about to ask him what he wants, when you see that he’s sporting several bandages, one on his jaw, and some on his torso, visible through the white shirt he’s wearing.

“Are you okay?,” you ask and scoot over on the bed to make what little room you can spare for him to sit. However, he stays where he stands.

“Just a couple of scratches, I’ve had worse,” he replies, but it doesn’t make you feel better. “What about you?”

“Well, it’s not hypothermia,” you joke, in an attempt to ease the strange tension building between the two of you, but he doesn’t react. “I’ve basically been discharged. I was just about to nap, but… what is it?”

He looks at you as if he didn’t know what you mean. But the whole time, he’s been chewing the inside of his cheek. Clearly something is on his mind, and right now you don't have the energy to play the back and forth game.

“You want to tell me something, right? So, tell me.” You want to sound trusting, but it comes out harsher than you meant. He seems slightly taken aback.

“You said earlier you wanted to talk,” he retorts defensively. “And I understand.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitates for a second.

“We don’t need to keep–” He looks for the right word. “–seeing each other.”

You pause for a moment, trying to dig deeper behind his words and try to get the real meaning out, but you're lost and rather shocked by his words.

“What do you mean?” you repeat yourself, alarmed.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair; he's nervous.

“I didn’t want you to see it,” he starts, avoiding looking at you. “It’s a side of me I didn't want you to see.”

“Oh,” you say, and you understand what he's getting at; the whole hunting and killing Jedi business.

“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” he asks, his eyes finding yours and narrowing them at you. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”

“I mean, we can talk about it if you want to. I–” You sheepishly fidget with your fingers on your lap. You actually wanted to talk about how he treats his purge troopers, but this is far more important, you realise. “Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Before he can inquire what you actually meant to talk about, you gesture for him to sit next to you. He still doesn’t move.

“Please sit,” you insist, and finally, he does. With the extra weigh dipping the mattress, you kind of lean into his side. You keep talking, both of you looking ahead. “Everything I said earlier, it still stands, you know.”

He doesn’t respond, so you continue.

“About the… warmth. And you being you and still deserving it.” You gingerly place your hand over his, and he momentarily flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not stupid, Cal. I know what you do. I’ve been aware of it from the start. And I simply don’t care. It’s not like my job is any better. My work also has… certain consequences, for others. And I’ve made peace with it.”

Finally you dare look up at him, his gaze still cast down. You can feel him trembling slightly though.

“You may be an inquisitor to others, but to me you're just Cal.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “Cal who makes pancakes with me. Cal who calls in a stretcher for me so I can save myself the embarrassment of my boss seeing me being a dirty, flustered mess. Cal who would stab someone else for looking at me the wrong way.”

He chuckles lightly at that. You reach out to cup his face, and make him look at you.

“But also the Cal who has nightmares. Cal who is sometimes scared out of his mind. Cal who asks me to stay the night because he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. I want all of them.” You pause for a second, but you’re too tired to fight the question that’s been pestering your mind for ages now. “And all those versions of Cal… they give me warmth too. Right?”

His shoulders slump slightly with a sharp exhale.

“They do,” he finally answers in a voice so small you almost miss it.

“Glad we could clear that up then,” you say just as softly, and close the gap to place a kiss to his lips, and he reciprocates so tenderly, holding your face like it could crumble any moment and disappear through his fingers.

You want to pull back from the kiss, but his lips follow yours, capturing them once again. Cal climbs on top of you, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“Don’t you want to get back to–” you try offering to move to a better location, but your words are interrupted by the squeal you let out as he pinches your side.

“We have to make up for lost time,” he states, getting back to attacking you with kisses, each one more and more ferocious.

You hear the distinct hiss of the doors opening, but Cal is quick to close them again with a quick flick of his wrist. From the other side, you can hear the nurse complaining.

“The officer is busy,” Cal calls over his shoulder, looking down at you the way a predator looks at its prey. “Come back later.”

— — —

Later that night, after a shower and slipping into your comfiest PJs, you’re both in his bed. Cal lies on his back and you have your head on his chest, drawing random figures onto his shirt.

“Are you sure about this?” Cal asks for the hundredth time.

“Yes,” you reassure him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can place a kiss on his nose. “I’ll talk you through it. Just, try to stay in the dream. It will all work out, I promise.”

“Right,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

You get back to cuddling into his side, and the even drumming of his heartbeat does quick work of lulling you to sleep.

It doesn’t take long, however, and you wake up to Cal twitching again. His brows are furrowed, his hands holding onto the bedsheet for dear life, and you sit up next to him, caressing his hair and holding his hand, whispering words of encouragement.

Cal is back on Bracca, collecting scraps from the same ships that he used to call home back when he was a Padawan. That seems so long ago now. Lifetimes ago. And maybe it is.

What would his younger self think of what he is now?

Cal stands at the edge of the partially stripped apart engine, impossibly small against the size of the machinery. A voice calls out to him, and he turns around. The world around him spins, turning into a blinding white, and he shields his eyes from the sudden change with his hands.

“Why are you here?” a trembling voice asks.

Cal looks up, meeting his own eyes, still a greenish blue, of his 13-year-old self. Disappointment and horror etched into his little face.

“What have you done?” another voice spits condescendingly.

Cal whips around, now looking at his master, Jaro Tapal, looking at him in disgust.

“Cal!”

He turns around again, starting to get dizzy, and his body freezes up, he can’t breathe. He’s standing at the edge of a scrapper platform now, surrounded by other people he used to know, but all their faces are blurred or scratched out. However, he can clearly see Prauf, his good friend Prauf, confronting the Second Sister. She holds her sabre at his throat, the blade sizzling in the rain. The red hue reflects in Prauf’s eyes.

Cal instinctively reaches out to his belt, expecting to find his own lightsabre, but it’s not there. He looks down at himself, and sees that he’s donning full inquisitor armour.

“Kill him,” the Second Sister orders.

Finally, Cal seems to be able to move and breathe again, and he takes a huge gulp of air.

“I said, kill him,” she repeats.

“No,” Cal says, and she slowly turns around to him.

“No?”, she chuckles, but the venom spills out of her voice like an overflowing glass of spotchka. It burns.

Suddenly, Cal is shoved in her direction against his will, and his inquisitor lightsabre appears in his hand. His arm is lifted into the air by an invisible force, about to swing down on top of Prauf’s head.

“Do it!” she yells, and Cal screams as well, trying with all his might to hold back his arm.

He hates this, he wants out. It hurts too much. The force trying to push down his arm and the sad look in his friend’s eyes tear into his heart like iron claws, shredding everything in its way.

Cal can hear the Second Sister’s voice yelling, urging him to get it done, but he hears something else too: it’s you. Your voice cuts through the cacophony of the scrapping grounds, pushing away all sounds of machinery, drills, saws, the rain itself and the inquisitor’s voice. Shoving it all aside, there’s just you.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you say, and the oppressing force on his arm is lifted with every word of yours. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”

Finally, the force is gone entirely, and he screams in both pain and relief. Cal lets go of his weapon, which retracts mid-air with a whirr, and it falls to the ground.

The world around him freezes, and everyone disappears. He’s back in the blinding white room, now in his old scrapper outfit.

“Cal,” Prauf’s voice comes from behind him, and the redhead whips around.

“My friend,” Prauf says warmly, as he always did, and stretches out his arms. A silent invitation.

Cal hesitates only for a second, then gives in. Taking the few steps that separate the two, he lets himself be embraced by the Abednedo. Unable to hold back, he cries into his friend’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps between sobs.

“It wasn’t your fault,” the older man comforts him, lightly patting Cal’s back. “It’s not your fault.”

After a few more moments, when Cal’s cries subside, he pulls back to look up at Prauf.

“Why am I here?” he asks.

Prauf smiles down at him.

“I just wanted to let you know: it’s not your fault,” he says, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “And to say thank you, for being my friend. I hope you found your way off Bracca and can have a peaceful life. You’ve been through so much, kid.”

Cal feels another wave of tears prickling behind his eyes.

“You never really belonged on Bracca, but I’m glad I met you,” Prauf says, his voice trailing off, as if swept off by the wind, as his image also starts disappearing from in front of Cal. “I hope you found your place.”

“No, wait!” he calls, trying to hold on to him, but his hands phase through the shadow of the figure still left.

Suddenly, Cal sits up on the bed with a scream, which takes you by surprise and you flinch backwards, falling onto your hands on the bed.

He holds his shirt over his heart so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and with a broken sob, he lets himself fall back onto the bed. You hurry to scoot closer.

“You were right,” Cal says between sobs. “The Force was trying to get a message to me.”

That night, you hold him as he cries, this time not out of fear, but because he can finally allow himself to grief the loss of a friend from a long time ago.

I found my place, Prauf, Cal thinks, about to drift off to sleep after the exhaustion of crying takes over. He looks at you lying on his chest one last time, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

He hopes that some day, he’ll be able to find warmth just with you, not needing to resort to other methods ever again. And maybe then, finally, he can offer you all the warmth back that he forgot he held.

~~~~~

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