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thewayshedreamed · 3 years

Note

Congrats on the milestone!!! I was wondering if you could write a combination of the prompts 2 (“c’mere, you can sit on my lap until i’m done working.”) and 21 ( “i’m bored. come over and sit on my dick.”) from the smutty prompts for Nessian. Thank you and congrats again <3

Thank you for the prompt and the love, nonnie! I'm not going to lie, I shamelessly abandoned my word count limit for this one. I have no excuse other than I got carried away.

Hope you enjoy! This one's for you, lovely! (and everyone who enjoys a bit of Nessian smut. Except those of you in the gc. Y'all know who you are and why).

—

Nesta hated when Cassian's work ran late, especially when she hadn't seen him in days. She was temporarily placated by their active text exchange that afternoon, complete with work grumblings, friend gossip, and inside jokes. Cassian was her best friend and boyfriend all rolled into one deliciously built package.

His millionth text of the day interrupted her thoughts.

I'm bored.

I'm sorry, she replied. Me too. And I miss you.

Cassian: Miss you too, Sweetheart.

Nesta considered that. He must not have gathered her true meaning given the tone of his reply, but she supposed it was difficult to convey via text. What she meant was that she missed his callouses scraping over her skin, the heat of his kisses against her neck, his weight cradled between her thighs. They were several days overdue.

She typed a quick response to drive her point home. No, babe. I miss you, miss you.

The ellipsis pulsed, disappeared, and pulsed again. Nesta bit her lip to contain her smile. It seemed her boyfriend was on the same page.

Oh? he sent back. Then, almost immediately after, Come over and sit on my dick.

Nesta barked a laugh. Cassian wasn't shy in any capacity, especially in matters of sex, but his text was blunt even by his standards. She would be lying if she claimed it didn't make her core clench in anticipation.

I can't believe that worked, she admitted. Give me 20 minutes.

—

Cassian's door was unlocked when she arrived. Nesta was usually grateful that he worked from home considering the flexibility it offered, but she didn't particularly love how it interfered with her plans for the evening. He was seated at the dining table with his laptop in front of him, sitting on what sounded like a conference call and finishing up whatever data entry he needed to finish.

None of it was conducive to their arrangement.

He mouthed "sorry" over the screen of his computer, shooting her a wink for good measure. Nesta had already considered a number of possibilities on her way over, and the small gesture alone had her skin erupting in goose flesh. She tugged at the hem of her skirt and struggled to get situated on the couch nearby. Comfort seemed a distant goal when every movement she made riled her more.

A true test of her self-control came at hearing Cassian sign off of his call for the day, especially when every muscle in her body was poised to spring off the couch on a moment's notice. Rather than orient directly to her, his focus remained on the screen of his computer. His brows were furrowed in concentration, negating any possibility that he meant to antagonize her.

"You know," she challenged, "I didn't come over here to watch you work the whole time."

He glanced at her through his side eye, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? What did you come over for, Sweetheart?"

Nesta's cheeks burned, but she squared her shoulders. "You'll have to refer back to our texts. It's not my job to remember your promises."

Cassian huffed a laugh and groaned as he leaned back in his chair. With his fingers laced, he reached his hands toward the ceiling in a long stretch. Nesta could see the impressive length tightening his pants, and her mouth went dry. At least she wasn't the only one affected.

He caught her in admiration and shot her a lazy smile. Her eyes trailed the handsome edges of his face, his broad chest.

"C'mere," he rasped. "You can sit on my lap until I'm done working."

His hand reached down to adjust himself, and he hissed against the contact. Nesta felt less self-conscious about her growing need to cross her legs to relieve some of the tension. Her voice was low, sultry.

"I didn't come over to sit on your lap either, Cassian."

His gaze darkened, his hand sliding beneath the waistband of his pants. "Then get over here and do as I told you."

A shiver ran down her spine. She sat transfixed by the movement of his hand and how he finally freed himself from his pants. Every part of her burned to touch him. The command in his voice had been her undoing; all good sense, gone. Her legs shook through her journey to close the space between them, but he didn't seem to notice.

Cassian groaned his approval as she straddled his lap, his large hand moving in a long stroke up and down his length. Nesta's position allowed him full access beneath her skirt, and he cursed under his breath when he realized she wore nothing underneath. Their lips crashed together, Nesta's hands poised against his shoulders. Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist to lift her over his cock and allowed gravity alone to ease her down until her hips sat flush against his.

Nesta moaned, desperate for friction. Her hips canted automatically until Cassian's rough voice and strong hands stopped her in her tracks.

He tutted his disapproval. "I never said you could move, Sweetheart. I still have work to finish."

"Cass," she whined, unashamed of her arousal. "Please."

"I'll take care of you, I promise." He pressed a kiss behind her ear, reaching behind her to resume his work. "For now, keep things warm for me, baby."

Nesta whimpered and gripped his shoulders. How could he ask that of her? Another couple of minutes, and her hips would be rolling whether she offered them permission or not. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the sound of the keys working behind her.

But then she was thinking about his deft fingers, how they wrought pleasure from her in immeasurable ways. How his hands always knew where she needed firm pressure of a delicate, teasing touch to—

"Nesta," Cassian warned, his voice hoarse. "What did I tell you about moving?"

He nipped her ear in warning. She forced her hips to settle, silently cursing them for their betrayal. The last thing she needed was Cassian holding out on her any longer.

"Sorry," she gritted out, "I'm— I don't know." Her mind was all over the place, reduced to some primitive by the need between her legs.

He made no moves to remove her from his cock, and she breathed a sigh of relief. His fingers resumed their work, but they would no longer serve to distract her in the process. She needed to think of something less promising, but she came up empty any time she tried.

Cassian added insult to injury, running his nose up and down the length of her neck. Nesta opened up for him, careful not to move her lower body in the process for fear that he would pull away. His lips left a path of soft kisses where his nose had left fire in its wake, and Nesta was a single kiss away from snapping altogether.

"Fuck," he rasped. Her hold tightened on him at the sound of his voice. There wasn't a thing about the man that didn't affect her. "Nesta, you're—" He paused to gather his wits, buried his forehead against her neck. "You're dripping."

To her horror, she realized he was right. Her arousal coated her inner thighs and the skin just above where their bodies came together. She was making an all out mess in her boyfriend's lap, and he had yet to move.

Nesta moaned, tilting her head back to encourage his affections against her neck. "Please hurry," she breathed. "I've done what you asked. Please."

Cassian growled against her skin. How he always reduced her to a begging, pleading mess was beyond her. There wasn't another aspect of her life where she resorted to it, but for him, she would do it shamelessly.

He placed another path of kisses, rougher this time, down the side of her neck and over her collarbones. When he refocused his attention on his work, Nesta let her forehead hit his broad shoulder. Her fingers were white-knuckled against him as she fought her most base urges.

Blessedly, she heard some clicking of the trackpad behind her. In another number of seconds, Cassian stood to lay her roughly atop the table. His hands explored her body, gripping her possessively in all the right places until she was a writhing mess, his order be damned.

"So eager." He moved to grip her wrists in his hand, pinning them over her head. The other gripped her thigh at his side. "Go on, then. Fuck me, Nesta."

She didn't need to be told twice. Her hips rolled against him, taking him deeper than before. Her feet pressed into the strong muscles of his ass in encouragement, but he remained still while he watched their bodies come together. Nesta couldn't think beyond his name rolling from her lips and how badly she needed more, more, more. Before she could say as much, Cassian's restraint snapped.

He widened his stance, spreading her legs farther apart and changing their angle. His hand left her thigh in favor of pressing a supportive arch to the small of her back, his hips snapping roughly into hers.

They dissolved into a symphony of muttered curses and groans. Nesta cried out her pleasure when her release barreled through her, earning a string of praise from Cassian.

"That's it. You're so tight around my cock, Sweetheart," he murmured, his breath leaving him in huffs with each punishing thrust. His eyes snapped up to hers, and she fought to keep her heavy lids open for him. His brow was drawn together in pleasure, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Fighting his release was wearing on him, and Nesta could tell he wouldn't be far behind her.

"Gods," he ground out. "You were so good for me, baby. You know that?"

His thrusts came faster, and Nesta cried out. Another world-shattering orgasm was close, so close, when she hadn't thought it possible so soon. Cassian noticed when her pleasure ratcheted up once more, and a look of determination crossed his handsome face. He slid his hand from her back, and pressed it to her lower abdomen, using his thumb to draw broad circles around her clit.

Her hands fought against his grip, but to no avail. She wanted to touch him, to drag her hands all over his body and run them through his hair. More than that, she thought she would need to secure her body against his to ride out another wave of pleasure like the one before.

"Pleasedon'tstop," she muttered, her eyes screwed shut.

"I won't," he promised, his hips pressing into hers and making her dizzy. "Not until that pretty pussy comes for me again."

It took only seconds for Cassian to get his wish. Nesta's cries echoed off the walls of his small apartment, her body shaking through the aftershocks of her release. His hips slammed home when he met his own, his large frame leaning over her body as he spilled inside her.

Once he released her hands, Nesta moved them to his shoulders to draw idle patterns over his skin. Cassian lifted his head to press a kiss to her mouth before separating them and standing to right their clothes. They surveyed the area, how his work was scattered about and his cup of water lay spilled over the floor nearby, and broke out into laughter.

"What am I going to do with you?" he teased, pulling her against his chest in a hug.

Nesta hummed, her first thought sliding past her lips. "Love me."

Cassian placed a kiss to her hair. "Yeah," he murmured. "I will."

#nessian #nessian au #nesta archeon #cassian #nessian smut #nesta x cassian #800 followers celebration #nonnie love #twsd writes #twsd fics

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britishassistant · 3 years

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I wonder what the supervillains (the dorm leaders) would do if they get switched with their other self in Twisted Wonderland.

They'll meet a younger Yuu calls them senpai and probably get shivers when they hear someone shout Prefect but then realize its Yuu's role in that world.

Bonus would be if Yuuken's there too, sharing the dorm with Yuu.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

I decided to take a little inspo from my Villainous Paranoiac series for this one! Not a whole lot, but the idea of Twisted Wonderland Yuu being put in the infirmary after the events of Chapter Five!

(Also consider it non-canon, since it kinda involves everyone’s identities being exposed!)

Basically imagine that the supervillains find themselves in what looks like a private school infirmary, late at night. The air is buzzing with a strange energy, almost like the powers back in their home world, but...different, somehow.

The room nearly empty, save for one occupant in a cot close to the door.

Poison Queen and King immediately begin bickering over whose fault this mess is, while Royal Flush tries to get them to keep their voices down or else they’ll be detected. Charon is half a minute from going to curl up in a corner, clutching his freeze ray like a lifeline, while Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer are busy inspecting their surroundings for anything of value or that can be requisitioned into a weapon on short notice.

Tsunotaro has wandered over to inspect the sole other living being in the room with them.

He is pleasantly surprised to see what looks like a younger version of the reporter he’s so fond of, fast asleep in the infirmary cot. Their cheeks still retain the last bit of baby fat from childhood, and there’s some acne left that will fade with age. He may give one cheek a gentle poke, just to satisfy his curiosity. The sleepy mumble they let out is a little more high pitched than normal, but that’s the reporter’s voice alright.

He is less pleased to see dark circles under their eyes, or the bandages around their throat that stink of medicinal salves. If this truly is a younger version of his child of man, then why do they look so worried, even in sleep? Why are they injured and sleeping in this place of healing in the first place? They’re a mere child, barely old enough to operate a vehicle or live alone. Their only worries should be trivial things, not whatever is causing this furrow in their brow and hunch in their shoulders.

The other supervillains have begun to migrate over to where Tsunotaro is crouching in silent contemplation. King flips his eyepatch up to get a better look, whistling lowly. Octo Dealer busies himself with refilling their water glass, sneaking glances at them as he places it within easy reach. Snake Charmer pulls their pillow more under their head from where it’s almost slipped off. Poison Queen straightens the arrangement of the very tasteful bouquet on the bedside table, so the flowers’ best angle is shown to the bed’s occupant. Royal Flush carefully tucks their covers in over them.

Charon takes a picture with his tablet.

He forgot to turn off his flash.

Yuu cracks their eyes open...

To see seven adults looming over their bed in masks that resemble the ink from the overblots that haunt the Prefect’s nightmares.

Cue terrified screaming.

Snake Charmer lunges forward instinctively to cover Yuu’s mouth—

It’s only thanks to Poison Queen yanking him back that he doesn’t end up with an arrow in the shoulder.

Several more follow the first one through the window above the prefect’s cot, cold iron sharp and perfectly aimed to seriously maim if the supervillains don’t immediately get away from the screaming teenager. Rook was lax in protecting the Trickster after VDC ended, assuming there was no more danger after Roi du Poison’s overblot was saved. He will not make that mistake again.

The infirmary doors burst open, a younger Yuuken in a sleep-rumpled uniform barging in from where he decided to sleep outside because Ramshackle felt too empty and quiet to bear, but was forbidden from staying in the infirmary himself. He only has a pillow, but he brandishes it at the strange adults, fully willing to defend his dorm mate in whatever way he can.

The vanguard appears in a flurry of bats though, too many to fight off, small and vicious and furious. Their commander materializes in the center if the swarm, hovering over the head of Yuu’s cot, pink eyes brimming with a cold rage that makes his small and cute form look like it’s bursting at the seams holding something much older and angrier back. He opens his mouth, fangs long and glistening—

Only to stop short at the sight of one of the supervillains. “Malleus? Malleus Draconia?”

Tsunotaro nods warily.

“Wh-What in Twisted Wonderland are you wearing??”

Tsunotaro ducks his head like a chastened child. “I could say the same thing.” He mutters sullenly.

From there the lights get turned on, and the seven supervillains are made to explain themselves to the sleep-deprived students and staff who trickle in to see what’s going on. All six dorm leaders and one vice dorm leader vanished from their beds, setting everyone on high alert until news of these...alternate versions spread.

It is very weird for the supervillains to see all their minions as teenagers (again in some cases). It is only surpassed by how weird it is for everyone else to see their dorm heads and vice head all grown up and adult, even if they are dressed weird.

Ortho still wants to shoot them with a beam until they bring back his nii-san. Luckily Charon is able to convince him that Idia should be fine if he’s in Charon’s lair—he’s got plenty of the latest games, manga and tech for him to play with, so that should keep him occupied for a while.

Sebek is in a state of Malleus awe. He has shut down and will not restart. Silver has taken to pinching himself just to make sure this isn’t a Lilia’s cooking induced fever dream, while Lilia himself scolds Tsunotaro that he raised him better than to go around watching people sleep like that! Tsunotaro tries to use the “but I’m a supervillain” excuse, only for Lilia to shoot back “and I’m a war criminal in some nations, what’s your point?”

King is enjoying watching the overgrown lizard get scolded. Now if only the tiny Ruggie would stop asking him what injury the eyepatch is for, and making remarks about how embarrassing it would be if it were totally pointless—King does not pay his adult self so much to put up with this shit. The baby Jack also needs to stop demanding to know if his adult minion self can pull a sled faster than a moose or something...

Jade and Floyd are attempting to wind up the adult Octo Dealer, trying to see how much they can get away with compared with the normal Azul. Octo Dealer is legitimately at a loss as to how this world’s Azul doesn’t keep them in line without letting them turn to a crime or two. Then he learns about Azul’s contract business and feels a pang of commiseration and understanding.

Poison Queen, Royal Flush, and Snake Charmer are unpleasantly shocked when their dorms address them by their respective secret identities in front of their fellow supervillains out of the blue.

Poison Queen has to put up with King’s uncontrolled laughter as he finally understands the full extent of the incident with White Neige so long ago, while Tsunotaro tries to tell him he liked Schoenheit in his role as the evil dragon prince in the GaoGao dramatization. Royal Flush is about two seconds away from throttling Octo Dealer if the bastard doesn’t stop trying to make a deal to guarantee his mother doesn’t learn about her son’s private activities. Snake Charmer’s just glad his civilian identity flies under the radar enough that Charon has to try and look him up to understand who he is (and fails because he’s not on school wifi and his cellular data is bust).

Poison Queen is also getting a headache from Rook rhapsodizing about how his villain form is another, enhanced mode of beauty he is fortunate to lay eyes upon, as if he hadn’t been willing to skewer Poison Queen along with the rest of the supervillains five minutes ago. He’s at least able to amuse himself by letting Epel run away with his speculations about how he’s the buff hyper-masculine muscle for Poison Queen.

Kalim is crying that Jamil had to resort to becoming a villain in his home world! He must be so sad if he has to do that! He’s mildly cheered up when Snake Charmer tells him they work together on schemes, and that Snake Charmer is actually reasonably happy with his chosen vocation—and then he begins panicking that Jamil will like that world so much, he won’t want to come back.

Royal Flush is glad his counterpart at least has good people around to look after him, even if it is odd to have young versions of Trey and Cater trying to mother hen him despite the fact that he’s the older one now. At least Ace and Deuce acting up seems more fitting now considering their age than it ever did on their adult selves.

Ace huffs a sigh and leans on Yuu’s shoulder. “This is a mess, huh Prefect?”

“You said it.” Yuu replies. “I just wanna sleep forever.”

The supervillains go still.

“I’m sorry,” Snake Charmer says carefully. “But isn’t Enma-san the Prefect?”

“No?” Yuuken replies, confused. “Yuu’s the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. I’m their vice— or would be, if we had any other students apart from them, me, and Grim.”

Octo Dealer laughs, sounding slightly strained. “Ah, apologies, but you see, that isn’t possible. It can’t be. Yuu isn’t—”

“But I am the prefect, Azul-senpai.” Yuu the Prefect says. “I’ve–I’ve always been the prefect.”

There’s a stunned silence.

Royal Flush places his head in his hands. “What the fuck.”

Back in the Supervillain AU universe, Yuu the Reporter sneezes sharply while trying to wrangle five frightened teenagers, one frightened-but-playing-tough twenty year old, and one confused however-old-he-is-but-younger-than-Tsunotaro fae.

They wonder what the chill down their spine is.

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

FemslashFeb2022: How to Handle a Nico: How to Handle a Star

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.9k Rating: G Fandom: Love Live Prompt: Constellations Parent Fic: How to Handle a Nico Time Frame: Not long after Nico opens Egao, Maki is still in medical school

---------

Author’s Note: Entry for the 8th

Summary: Nico and Maki go stargazing

---------

“Ne~, Maki-cha~n…” Nico whined as she trudged behind her girlfriend. “Are we there yet?”

“Just a little farther.” Maki replied, not seeming to be winded at all.

“That’s what you said last time…” Nico grumbled under her breath.

The couple had been hiking uphill for what seemed like forever. Nico knew she had agreed to join Maki for an evening of stargazing tonight, but of course the Fates had decided to bombard her all week with problems at Egao, the production company she owned and ran with Tsubasa.

Perhaps Nico should have asked to take a raincheck and postpone the event until next weekend. After all, Maki had only insisted that the night be sometime in March, not this specific night. Still, Maki had been quite insistent in general and who knew if the next few weekends would be nearly as clear or moonless.

Nico knew astronomy was an important hobby for Maki, and one that she was unable to indulge nearly as often as she desired. And because it was important to her, it was thus important to Nico as well. So, Nico slogged on, wondering if she should crack open her thermos of tea early for a little shot of caffeine. The warmth from the liquid surely would help stave off the chill of the evening breeze as well.

“There should be good, I think.” Maki decided, pointing to a small clearing off the path.

The two young women found a place to spread their blanket and open their backpacks. Several packs of snacks, the thermos of tea, two pairs of binoculars, a small telescope, a small LED lantern and Maki’s favorite celestial cartography book were laid out on the blanket before the couple settled down.

The sun had set during their climb and the sky was about as dark as it was going to get considering the light pollution from city. But as Maki had reminded and Nico remembered from prior stargazing sessions, short of flying to some remote island, this was about as good as it would get.

Nico startled as Maki’s tablet suddenly appeared in her field of view. The screen displayed a rendering of the night sky, complete with connecting lines denoting constellations and labels for various celestial objects.

“I still love my book.” Maki said as she scooted in closer. “But this app is amazing.”

She moved the tablet around a little. Sure enough, the screen shifted to accommodate the new angle.

“How are the tiny lenses on that thing able to detect all of that?” Nico craned her neck to check beyond the screen to compare to what she could see with her own eyes.

“I think it also works off GPS location and the internal accelerometer to determine where it is being pointed.” Maki replied. “And then it fills in with known data. Like here.” She pointed to a dot. “That’s not normally visible to the naked eye; you’d need at least binoculars to see it.”

“Huh…” Nico wasn’t sure she understood all of that, but “That is pretty neat.” She acknowledged, making a mental note to see if she could put the app on her phone to show her siblings at some point.

“Mm.” Maki hummed happily. “I love things like this. I think it helps make stargazing, and really astronomy in general, more accessible. I mean look.” She tapped on the name of a constellation, which pulled up a window with a brief history of it. She tapped again on a star, which brought up information about it as well. “Something like this might interest your siblings.”

Nico laughed lightly as Maki almost seemed to have read her mind. However, she couldn’t help teasing. “Is Maki-chan looking for ways to win points with my family?”

“No, I… uhm… uehhhh…” Maki’s blush was adorable in the lantern light.

Nico laughed again. “Sorry, I couldn’t help that. You know the kids already adore you, Maki-chan. And yeah, I do think they’d be thrilled to have you show them something like this. However, I’m not sure how happy they’d be with the hike.”

“Apps like this work fine even from places like your balcony.” Maki pointed out.

“Oh? Then why even come all the way out here?”

“Because being able to see things with one’s own eyes is still worthwhile.” Maki insisted.

“Or maybe Maki-chan just wanted some alone time with her favoritest Nico?”

“I uh…” Maki’s blush flared back up. “M-maybe…”

Nico couldn’t help herself as she leaned over to peck a quick kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. As grumpy has she had been during the hike, she couldn’t deny that laying like this with Maki, with nobody else around, just them and the night sky, was nice. Very nice.

“Ne, Maki-chan.” Nico said after a few moments of comfortable quiet between the two.

“Mm?”

“Why were you so insistent on doing this in March?”

“Oh, uhm… because it wouldn’t have worked as well in February.”

Nico thought for a moment. “Why would you have wanted to do this in February?”

“Because Valentine’s Day is in February.”

She’s still dodging… Nico thought to herself. “Did Maki-chan want to go stargazing with Nico on Valentine’s?”

Was that really more romantic than what they had actually done? Well, maybe not more romantic, in the strictest sense. But sharing in one of Maki’s passions while huddling together by lantern light, as they were doing now, was pretty romantic. Although February would have been a bit colder…

“Maybe…” Maki admitted, somewhat sheepishly. “But White Day is in March, at least.”

That was true, though since the two had started dating, they really hadn’t really done much with White Day. They still usually went out for a nice dinner together, but it just wasn’t quite as bit a deal as Valentine’s itself.

Wait… Did Maki intend to give Nico something this year? Tonight? But not only was White Day still a few days away, Nico hadn’t gotten anything in return…

Suddenly, Maki rolled away from Nico and reached into her backpack for something. Oh, geez, that’s definitely a gift. Nico thought as her girlfriend returned to her side, holding what looked a faux leather booklet held closed by a pretty pink ribbon.

“Uhm… before you open that…” Maki held her tablet out again, this time turning it closer to the horizon. A couple seconds of adjustments and the constellation Cancer was in the middle of the screen.

Cancer is Nico’s zodiac sign, right? Nico thought to herself.

Maki zoomed in a little bit until a new speck appeared on the screen. Unlike many of the other stars, it lacked a label.

“This one.” Maki said, pointing. “This is Nn Ichiban 25252.”

Ni, go, ni… Ichiban, number one… wait…

“Maki-chan, did you… name a star after me?”

“… Yeah…”

“So, is this the paperwork then?”

Maki nodded.

Nico quickly removed the ribbon and opened the document holder. Inside, she found a certificate, made out to her, designating a star with a particular celestial location as now holding the name Maki had mentioned a moment ago. In the other side of the holder, there were pamphlets Nico assumed gave directions on how to location her star as well as one that looked to be about the constellation in which it was located.

“I… I know it’s silly and not official and… eh?!” Maki cut off as she found herself tackled and pushed onto her back.

“This is amazing, Maki-chan!” Nico declared before pressing her lips to Maki’s. “As if Nico didn’t already have enough fun listening to Maki-chan talk about stars and astronomy and such,” she said as she pulled back for a moment “but now I get to find a star named after me whenever we go stargazing together.” She grinned and went in for another kiss. “Thank you, Maki-chan.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Nico is going to have to go all out to match this when White Day comes officially.”

“Ueh? Y-you don’t have too…”

Nico giggled. “I know, but Maki-chan didn’t have to go and name a star after me either.”

“I just… wanted to.”

“I know.” Nico grinned. “And that’s one of the things I love about Maki-chan.”

“A-anyway, I wanted to actually name a brighter star, but those are always the first to be taken.” Maki explained with a hint of regret in her voice.

“That’s alright, Maki-chan,” Nico assured “I still happy you thought of me and wanted to include me in something you love like this.”

Maki nodded. “That’s why I decided to find something unnamed in the Cancer constellation.”

“Although aren’t those things determined by birthdays?” Nico asked. “Why not do this as a birthday thing?” She smirked as an idea came to her. “Unless Maki-chan was just that impatient to give Nico this gift?”

“Cancer is often outshined by the setting sun during that time of the year.” Maki stated. “March is the best month to view it here in the northern hemisphere.”

“Ah, so White Day it was then.”

Maki nodded.

“Ne.” Another idea occurred to Nico. “Not that I dislike the reference to Nico-nii, but isn’t it more common with this kind of thing to use the person’s actual name?”

“The name I gave it looks more like an official star name though.” Maki defended quickly. Too quickly.

Nico narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Is that the real reason?”

Pink began to dust Maki’s cheeks for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes. “Uhm… well… because stars belong to everyone…”

“Like Nico-nii?”

“… Yeah… I…” Maki hesitated for a moment. “I wanted to name the star Nico, but I became worried that it might seem that Nico-chan would then belong to everyone. But Nico-chan is my star and…” she trailed off.

Nico felt warmth spread through her chest and she smiled. “Silly Maki-chan.” She said, reaching up to gently swat her girlfriend’s forehead. “You know full well that Nico belongs only to Maki-chan.”

“And so the star that belongs to every one…”

“Is Nn Ichiban 25252.”

“Right…”

“Hrm… Maybe Nico should name a star Mkk Hime TPTPT.”

“TP?” Maki grimaced. “Isn’t that often used to abbreviate toilet paper in English?”

“Oh, oops.” Nico chuckled. “I wanted it to stand for True Princess, like my Maki-chan. But maybe I can figure out something that references Aires or something? Oh, hey, are Cancer and Aires ever in the sky at the same time?” She rolled off her girlfriend to check the sky.

“They are now.” Maki replied before pointing. “Aires is best viewed in November, but it’s still there.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize they were that close.”

“Kind of, I guess.” Maki conceded. “I mean Gemini and Taurus are between them, but…”

Nico swatted Maki’s leg. “Oh, quit nitpicking.” She scolded. “I say they’re close, so they’re close. I mean look at all the space they could otherwise be in.” She swept a hand widely to indicate what she meant.

“Sorry, they are closer than most…”

Nico sighed. “Well, they’re not as close as Nico and Maki-chan.” She decided, before scooting closer to prove that point as well.

“Mm…” Maki hummed her approval.

With that, the couple fell quiet. They stared together at the wonderfully unfathomable depths beyond the small, spinning speck of dust on which they lived. They contented themselves with the knowledge that amid the vastness of the world, they had somehow found each other. And that was enough.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: Yes, I am well aware that naming a star isn’t official. And Maki is too, as she started to excuse. But I strongly headcanon that Maki cares more about sentiment than anything else when it comes to gifts. Cost is irrelevant, as anything between a song written for free to a full week vacation on a private beach, and any cost in between, the important thing is that it means something special to both Maki and the individual receiving the gift. So, a fancy folder containing pretty paper declaring a particular star to now hold a name associated with Nico is worth every yen if it makes Nico happy, which it did.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #femslashfeb2022 #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic

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koala-otter · 4 years

Note

can i get some soft modern!zukka pls 👉🏻👈🏻

anon honey, you can get whatever you like

I see a lot of fics where Sokka’s comforting and assuring Zuko, and as pointed out in this post by @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice, something really great about their dynamic is the way Zuko actively appreciates and praises Sokka’s abilities when he’s fairly insecure about them

so here’s some soft modern!zukka written with that in mind 2k+ words

The ride back home is quiet except for the rain outside, because Sokka doesn’t say anything. Usually, after a party, he makes jokes about stuffy diplomats and comments extensively on the scant spread of hors d’oeuvres, but now, as Zuko watches him carefully in the back of the cab, Sokka only sits quietly with his arms crossed, his head turned to look out the window streaked with raindrops.

He is still quiet when they make it to their building in Ba Sing Se’s Middle Ring, and then when they walk up the three flights up stairs to their apartment. He doesn’t even turn on the light as he walks through the door and into the living room, pausing only to kick his shoes off on the way in.

Zuko watches after him, flicking the light on once Sokka’s passed by in his stormy wake. He loosens his tie and leans against the open doorway of the living room as he racks his brain for something to say.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he finally asks. “There wasn’t a lot of food at the party. You must be starving.”

“Not hungry,” Sokka replies with a huff. He sinks lower into the sofa.

Zuko widens his eyes. Something is really wrong, then. He ventures further into the living room, ready to work his subtle charms on his unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Is something wrong?” Zuko asks plainly.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sokka says loudly. He huffs again and crosses his arms.

Zuko rubs the right side of his face before looking at Sokka once more. “You know, it’s pretty obvious when you’re in a bad mood,” he says.

Sokka gives a short, dry laugh. “Right, and you’re the king of subtlety,” he says sarcastically.

They painted the walls robin’s egg blue in the living room when they moved in because it reminded Sokka of home, and it reminded Zuko of everything but his own. The building is old, so, while the hot water never lasts long, their apartment is a vision made up of high ceilings and tall windows with original crown molding. Zuko looks at the living room walls. During the day, the way they stretch up toward the white of the molding evokes memories of blue skies dotted with curly clouds. But at night, like now, when the light fades, and the wind whistles, and the windows are barraged with rain, the walls go dark. Almost as if the room itself were overcast.

Zuko lets a breath out and leaves the room. Sokka can’t keep anything to himself for long, but he still needs time to stew. They might as well have food ready for when he finally lets it out.

Zuko reaches the kitchen and takes his suit jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair. The rice cooker sits on the countertop, a housewarming gift from Katara, ready for use. He takes out the pot and rinses rice in it, quickly, before measuring the water up to the first knuckle of his middle finger and placing it back in the cooker. He turns around from pressing the button to find Sokka shuffling in through the doorway, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table to settle heavily there instead. Zuko refrains from commenting on how he’ll wrinkle the jacket behind him, and instead grabs a packet of Sokka’s favorite seal jerky from the pantry and brings it with him to the table. He reaches over and takes Sokka’s hand.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks.

Sokka pouts for another moment before he’s ready.

High-pitched, and a little whiny, he erupts, “Everyone at your work thinks I’m stupid!”

Zuko startles away before his eyes narrow and he draws closer to Sokka. “What?” he asks, disbelieving.

Sokka waves his arms helplessly in the air and throws his head back. “All those stupid lawyers and human rights dorks you work with! They think I’m an idiot.”

Zuko almost wants to laugh, but, with a glance at Sokka’s face, thinks better of it. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he instead says earnestly. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Sokka scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Really, Sokka,” Zuko insists. “I don’t know anyone else getting their PhD in mechanical and aerospace engineering at Ba Sing Se, the best university in the world.”

“I do,” Sokka says, though the corner of his mouth is tugging up into something of a smug smile.

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Right, only everybody in your lab,” he deadpans. He pauses. “There’s all the other stuff, too. Like when you help me with my work. An engineer doesn’t have to be so good at economics, too.”

Zuko works as an associate expert at the United Council of Nations for Economics, Science, and Culture. He has spent many a night dragging briefings home and poring over them at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of some graph or diagram, when Sokka will take a break from his designs and calculations to glance over his shoulder.

“Whoa, Earth Kingdom agriculture’s gonna take a real hit next year,” he once said, pointing to a data point. “That’s way too big of a cabbage surplus.”

Zuko could only gape at him, and then buy Sokka the most expensive gym bag he could find when raising the point in a meeting the next day earned him a raise.

“It’s intuitive,” Sokka says almost humbly, looking down at the kitchen table.

“If it’s intuitive to you, you could replace everyone who was at the party tonight,” Zuko replies.

Sokka's expression turns doubtful, and he bites his lip. Zuko resists the urge to kiss it.

“They were all laughing at me,” Sokka says.

Zuko tilts his head at him. “You’re funny,” he supplies hopefully.

“I wasn’t telling any jokes,” Sokka says sadly.

The sound of his voice wrenches at Zuko’s heart, and he barely registers it when he rises and finds himself tilting Sokka’s face up by his chin, only able to get this angle when Sokka is sitting. He bends down and kisses him. It only lasts a second, and when he pulls back, Sokka looks no less upset. Zuko is about to try to drum up some more words of comfort for him when the rice cooker starts beeping.

Zuko smiles apologetically at Sokka and goes back to the counter, pressing the button and opening the rice cooker. A little puff of steam rises from beneath the lid and disappears on its way to the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, turning around to look at Sokka and leaning his back against the counter.

“Not your fault,” Sokka says with a shrug, though the dejection still reads clearly across his face.

The torrent outside only seems to have gotten stronger. The wet leaves of the maple tree outside their building slap against their windows, the sound so loud and forceful, they can hear it even in the kitchen.

“Jeez,” Sokka says, shifting forward to glance back at the archway that leads to the living room, “that’s loud.”

Zuko spies the jacket behind him, and he immediately brightens.

“Here,” he says, coming over to reach into the breast pocket. Sokka looks up at him in confusion as he pulls out the folded page of a newspaper and a pen. “Take this.”

Sokka takes the paper and unfolds it carefully. His brow immediately furrows in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with a crossword?” he asks. The question almost sounds like a whine. He eyes the paper once more before looking back up at Zuko like he might have gone insane. “And one you already finished?”

Zuko shakes his head. “But I didn’t finish it,” he says excitedly. He points to an area of the grid. “Look, I couldn’t figure these three out. And when I got into work, I asked everyone, and they couldn’t figure them out either.” He smiles. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Sokka.”

Sokka looks doubtful once more, but he lays the crossword on the table. Zuko moves back to the counter and hears the click of a pen behind him. This is a good idea, he thinks, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge and placing a pan on the stove. Now Sokka will be occupied while he makes dinner, and they’ll have food ready just in time for when Sokka feels better, and he has time to fry eggs just the way Sokka likes them, yolks so runny they practically bleed onto the rice, and then they can watch one of his favorite history documentaries, and they’ll curl up on the sofa and fall asleep to the sound of the rain, or if they don’t feel like sleeping—

“Done!” Sokka says.

Zuko whirls around, two eggs in his hand, still uncracked, to find Sokka grinning smugly at him. “How?” he demands, genuinely surprised.

Sokka shrugs, the grin immovable. “Easy,” he says. Zuko puts the eggs down and goes back to the kitchen table, his hand landing on Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka grabs it as he explains, “‘A Northern delicacy’ is obviously roast duck. And then ‘failure to communicate,’ with the duck in mind, is that expression your uncle’s always saying: ‘Like a chicken talking to a duck.’ And then ‘skinny appendages?’” He looks up at Zuko before he cheers, barely able to contain himself, “Chicken legs!”

“Let me see that,” Zuko says, grabbing the paper with his free hand. He stares at it closely. A small scowl reaches his lips. “Are you kidding me? I spent a whole hour on the monorail trying to get these. I almost missed my stop! And it was just ‘roast duck’ the whole time?”

He looks up sharply when he hears Sokka laughing.

“I mean,” Zuko starts, a blush creeping into his cheeks as he smiles awkwardly, “I told you you were smart.”

“Actually, I think you called me the smartest person you know,” Sokka corrects jokingly.

“You are the smartest person I know,” Zuko insists.

He keeps smiling at the scratchy characters of Sokka’s writing on the crossword next to the careful strokes of his own when he feels Sokka pulling him by the hand. Once Zuko is standing in front of him, Sokka throws his arms around his boyfriend’s middle and hugs him tightly, burying his head into Zuko’s ribs.

“Thanks, Zuko,” he says quietly into the fabric of Zuko’s dress shirt.

One of Zuko’s hands lands on the top of Sokka’s head, stroking his hair till he reaches the end of his wolf tail. Then, Zuko wraps his arms around Sokka’s neck and shoulders and hugs him back fiercely, protectively.

“Love you,” he says, and he smiles when he feels Sokka nod against his chest. He rubs Sokka’s shoulders and upper back, trying to ease the tight muscle beneath his hands. “Do you think you might want something to eat now?”

Sokka pulls his face away from Zuko’s shirt to beam up at him. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says enthusiastically.

After their easy dinner of fried eggs and seal jerky on rice, Zuko ends up being right; they go back to the living room and watch a documentary on the construction of the ancient air temples. They lie on the couch with Sokka between Zuko’s legs, his head on Zuko’s chest. The rain has stopped outside, but Zuko hardly notices with Sokka pressed against him. From this angle, he can pull the tie out of Sokka’s hair and comb his fingers through the soft, brown tresses, as well as the fuzz of his undercut, while the narrator debunks a theory that aliens teleported the building materials up the Potola Mountain Range.

“What do you think, Sokka?” Zuko whispers near his ear. “Did aliens build the air temples?”

Sokka’s response is a light snore against his chest.

Zuko suppresses a laugh. There’s no way of getting Sokka to bed without waking him, so Zuko settles in behind him instead. He wraps one of his arms protectively around his boyfriend’s body, while the other stays in place to let his fingers keep playing with Sokka’s hair, enjoying the soft smile it coaxes onto his relaxed mouth. The clouds outside clear to make way for the nearly full moon, whose light spills through the towering windows into the apartment. The dark lifts from the room, the walls glow an otherworldly blue, and Zuko sinks beneath Sokka’s weight into the night’s quiet.

#my writing #ask #anon #atla #atla fanfic #fanfiction #zukka #zuko #sokka

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ladyfogg · 3 years

Text

May I? - 27/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

The lights in the bedroom were dim but Data could still see the outline of Faith’s body by the moon shining through the blinds. Her back arched as he thrust into her from behind, his hands holding her hips for leverage. She rocked and moved with him, panting and twisting the bedsheets as she did. They had not done this position before and he found he quite liked the visual. And judging by the noises Faith made, he was sure she enjoyed it as well.

“Oh, Data!” she moaned.

The high pitch in her voice let him know he had found the correct angle. But her body did not shudder so he readjusted by a fraction of a degree. He earned a loud whine for his efforts and felt the way her body jolted in pleasure.

He calculated that at his current rate of speed if he maintained that angle and applied manual stimulation…

She feels so good.

The sudden stray thought interrupted his processes and he immediately froze. He had heard of humans experiencing such random thoughts before but he himself had not been able to replicate it on his own. To experience such a phenomenon himself had taken him by surprise. It was not just the appearance of the thought that struck him but the thought itself.

He had been enjoying himself as much as he can during their sexual acts. The smoothness of Faith’s skin had always intrigued him and the sensation of being inside her was not something he could quantify. And yet, his brain had decided that it felt good.

“Data?” Faith panted, craning her neck to look back at him. “W-Why’d you stop?”

“I had a thought.”

“Now?”

She did not normally get annoyed with him but it was evident by her tone that she was.

Data looked at her, bent before him, her buttocks flush against his lap, and the tantalizing dip of her spine as her top half rested on the soft mattress. Her wild hair was in her eyes and he reached out to push it away from her face as he draped his chest along her back. She whimpered when his breath ghosted across her ear.

“You feel good, Faith.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Wha…what do you mean?”

Data began to move again and though it was not the precise angle from before, Faith still responded to it. She moaned again, louder than before.

“I am enjoying being inside you,” he went on. “I do not wish to stop anytime soon.”

Faith gasped and Data slid one arm around her chest so he could hold her as close as possible. She wiggled and moaned, rutting along with him as much as she could with the small space she had.

“Stars, Data! When you talk like that while moving like that…” She could not finish her sentence without moaning again.

“By my calculations and judging by our previous experiences, I estimate you can handle at least another two hours of sexual intercourse before requiring rest.”

“Oh god! Please don’t make me wait that long before I can cum.”

“I did not say you had to. In that time, you will experience several orgasms.”

He let her go so he could push himself up again. Minutes later, when her release took hold, she called his name louder than he had heard her done before.

They made love for as long as she could handle until she was a shuddering mess and her slow movements showed she was fatigued. Only then did Data finish, making sure to stay buried in her warmth until the moment of completion ended. It was an impulse that had developed over the course of their relationship, as he noted Faith seemed to enjoy it as much as he did.

Gently, he slipped out of her and laid on the bed, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. She did not move right away, only laid there spread out and panting.

“Faith, are you alright? Was that too long for intercourse?”

“I’m fine, just gimme a second.” Her words were slurred but he could still hear the satisfaction in her tone.

Eventually, she grunted and rolled over so she could face him. “Dear god, Data. That was the most intense lovemaking yet.”

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“And you did too apparently,” she said with a grin. “Did you really feel something or was that your attempt at dirty talk?”

“I was not attempting anything other than making you orgasm.”

“Mission fucking accomplished.”

“Did my talking elicit an arousing response?”

Still grinning, Faith drew closer, reaching down to take Data’s hand. She slid it between her thighs where he could touch the wetness there.

“Definitely.”

“Duly noted.”

He kissed her deeply while his fingers stroked the bundle of nerves that made her quake. She moaned, throwing her leg over his hip to allow for easier access. He had assumed she would need a break but it seemed his calculations were off.

He drew away from the kiss so he could study her expressions as he touched her. As many times as he painted her face, it was never enough. He never felt like he could truly capture what he saw when he looked at her. From the pinch of her eyebrows to the dip of her nose, to the way her bottom teeth dug into her full lip…it was all too beautiful to comprehend.

Data coaxed another orgasm out of her before she rolled into her back with a dreamy sigh.

“If this is what our vacation entails I’m mad I didn’t agree to take shore leave sooner,” she said with a satisfied hum.

Their shore leave had so far consisted of very little activity outside of their small stretch of beach

The first two days, they had taken the time to adjust to their surroundings and see what the hotel had to offer. There were numerous amenities, including a full-service spa, various small restaurants, and other recreational activities. Faith was not interested in most of them, except the spa where she had received a massage which she had described as leaving her boneless.

Other than that, the rest of the time was spent swimming or laying on the beach.

Lovemaking had also been a priority.

Data had noticed that Faith’s sexual appetite had greatly increased throughout their vacation. He concluded that since neither of them was constantly required to split their attention between their various duties, she was taking advantage of their alone time. Data did not nor would he complain. He was fascinated by the change in both of them.

“I do not require rest and am happy to continue our sexual explorations during the time we have.”

“You’re too good to me.” She kissed him softly before forcing herself to sit up. “Mmmm, why can’t we just stay here forever?”

“I am assuming you do not actually mean forever.”

“I don’t. But it still sounds nice.” She draped herself across his chest, tracing the lines of his abdomen. Her wild hair and hazy eyes made Data stare, once again struck by her beauty.

“It does sound like an enjoyable way to spend our time. Though I do think you will grow mentally restless with nothing to do other than swimming and making love.”

“Probably. But it’s a sexy fantasy to have.”

“On that, I agree.”

They laid there for a time, Faith tracing her fingers across his skin while Data studied her. He was intimately familiar with all of her expressions. The one she wore now seemed hesitant, as though she wanted to say something but had not worked up the courage to do so.

“What is on your mind, Faith?” he asked, allowing one of her curls to wrap around his finger.

She smiled. “You and that positronic brain of yours.” She fell silent for a moment. “I have a present for you.”

This intrigued Data. It was not a special occasion or holiday so he had not anticipated receiving any gift. “I must admit I am curious. Why do you seem so worried?”

“I don’t know if you’re going to like it.”

“Faith, you should know by now that I greatly appreciate anything you give me, regardless of what it is.”

Her smile widened and she leaned in to kiss him before slipping out of bed.

“You did not have to go through the trouble,” he continued as he sat up.

She crossed the room to their belongings. “It wasn’t any trouble. Well, that’s not true. It was a little bit of trouble but I wanted to do it. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you.”

She dug around in their bag for a moment before withdrawing something and hiding it behind her back. When she returned to his side, she said, “Close your eyes.”

Data promptly did as she commanded. Faith picked up his hand and placed an object into it. He knew by touch instantly what the chemical makeup of the item was so when he opened his eyes, he was not surprised to see a piece of neatly rolled paper, tied with a red ribbon.

“Thank you,” he said automatically.

Faith chuckled. “Open it, Data.”

Curiously, Data carefully untied the bow before unrolling the small scroll. He was surprised to find his own likeness staring back at him. The image had been carefully drawn in thick pencil, with smaller lines added to shade in and include minute details. While it was not an exact reproduction, it was fairly close.

“Faith? Did you draw this?”

She nodded with a proud smile, shoulders relaxing when she realized he liked it. “I noticed that you don’t paint yourself,” she explained, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I decided to try my hand at drawing, even took a couple of classes. What do you think?”

He had not known she had been taking drawing lessons. With their full schedules, he had not had the time to ask about any recreational activities. He had assumed since she was so tired, she did not have the energy. Now it seemed she had sought some out on her own.

“This is very good,” he said. And he meant it. “Your strokes and lines were done with confidence and precision and your attempt at shading was well-executed.” He felt a wave of affection and smiled at her. “Thank you. I have never received a gift quite like this.”

Faith beamed. “I’m so glad you like it. I know you love art and painting, and while it’s not really my thing I wanted to try. You’ve done so many wonderful paintings of me, I felt I should return the favor.”

“Perhaps we can hang it in our quarters when we return to the ship.”

“I would like that a lot,” she said. “Actually, I was thinking maybe you could do a family portrait of us. Me, you, and Spot.”

At the word “family”, Data tore his eyes away from the drawing. “Do you consider the three of us a family?”

“Well, yes. Don’t you?”

“I do. I appreciate that the sentiment is shared.”

He carefully placed the present on the nightstand as Faith made herself comfortable next to him. Drawing up the blankets, Data pulled her in close and settled against the pillows.

“Faith, may I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“We have been a couple for several months now. When do you believe you will feel comfortable talking about the subject of marriage?”

Her head, which had been resting on his shoulder, snapped back so she could stare at him with wide eyes. “Uhh…what…when…” She struggled to speak. “You…want to marry me?”

“Is that not something you desire?”

“I’ve honestly never really thought about marriage.”

“Oh. I see.”

Faith sat up, placing a comforting hand on his chest. “But that was before!” she said quickly. “Before I met you and before we started our relationship. Marriage was never on my mind because, honestly, I never thought I would feel close enough or comfortable enough with someone to consider it.”

“Has that changed?”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we got married.”

Data placed his hand over hers. “I feel it prudent to let you know that I do intend to propose to you in the future.”

Faith did not do or say anything for thirty full seconds, except rapidly blink. Data gave her a curious look.

“For once, I am having trouble reading your expression,” he said. “Some help into what you are feeling would be appreciated.”

Faith smiled. “It’s one thing to think about marriage, it’s another to talk about it. The same as any other fantasy.”

“Does this change your mind?”

She shook her head, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “No,” she said. “It just makes the fantasy more of a reality, which is scary.”

“In what way?”

Faith sighed and curled up against him again. “In a fantasy, everything goes how you want it to. In reality, there’s a chance of making a mistake.”

“And you feel marrying me would be a mistake?”

“Oh, stars, no! I’d be the luckiest woman in the galaxy if I had a chance to marry you I just…” She struggled to find the words. “I guess, I’m just afraid that you’d eventually think marrying me was a mistake.”

Data was confused. He could not follow her logic. “I do not understand.”

“Data, these periods of anxiety and depression most likely will never go away. Which means I’ll be experiencing them throughout the rest of my life. The thought of you having to deal with that makes me feel so guilty.”

“I do not see it at ‘dealing’ with anything. They are a part of you. You are operating under the assumption that I regard this as a chore. I do not. I am sorry if I made you feel like it is.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Faith assured him, hugging him tighter. “I guess to me sometimes it feels like a chore. And I know in previous relationships I was told it was…”

Hearing these words made Data feel angry. Not the explosive anger he had experienced prior. A more subdued version.

“Whoever made you feel such a way was wrong!” he said, his voice taking on a stern tone. “Loving you is not a chore.”

Faith looked up, brown eyes wide. “Data…”

“Faith, you are a wonderful woman. I am the luckiest sentient being because I get to experience you. All of you. And I do not want to experience another.”

He kissed her forcefully, needing to show her how much he meant what he said. Within seconds he had her on her back beneath him, her hands running up his shoulder blades as she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

Though he had made love to her for hours, he could do so again. He wanted to do so

The tiny gasp that escaped her lips as he pushed into her was instantly swallowed by his kiss. Data went slowly, taking his time. He knew the speed that Faith liked, how deep she needed him to be to reach orgasm, but he was not thinking about her pleasure at that moment. He only thought of his own growing need.

Data buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her sweat-slick skin. He used to not understand how olfaction connected with sexual intercourse until he became sexually active with Faith. He then understood that it was connected to scene memory. Smelling Faith’s skin at such a close range, during such an intimate moment, brought to the surface memories of their numerous sexual encounters.

It made Data remember how she felt, how she yielded to his touch. How she sounded when he took her in his arms.

When he finally had his fill, his release came naturally. Faith lay sprawled beneath him, her brown eyes shining at him with hazy wonder as she dragged them open.

She reached up, pushing his hair back from his face, thumb stroking his ear as she tucked it back.

“Data,” she breathed in a soft voice. “Did you just…give into impulse?”

“I have given in to impulse before.”

“Not like that.”

He shook his head. “No, not like that. Was it…satisfying?”

“It was wonderful.”

“I did not hurt you did I?”

Faith smiled and shook her head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. Although now we definitely need a break because I am sore. Not in a bad way. In a very, very, good way.”

“You should sleep. You must be very weary.”

They settled into comfortable positions and Data turned off the dim lights, plunging the room into darkness. By then the moon was hidden behind clouds. But it was not the total darkness of space around them. Ambient light from outside gave the room shadows and it was not long before Data heard Faith’s breathing become slow and even.

She slept curled in his arms. Data held her for some time. He did not want to activate his sleep program. Rather, he decided to lay there and contemplate. After several hours, he extracted himself from her embrace. Silently, he stepped out onto the porch. The waves were close enough for Data to step down and be standing in the water.

He stared out at the vast ocean, understanding why Faith was drawn to such scenery. It was hard to think of anything else when faced with such an endless view.

In many of the outcomes, he calculated he saw Faith leaving the Enterprise in six-five point two percent of them. Of those scenarios, he joined her eighty-nine percent of the time. That number steadily increased as their time together grew.

It would not be long before it was one-hundred.

Of the scenarios where he did not immediately join her, he calculated he eventually would within a short period of time.

Either way, Faith was a part of his future. It was as he told her when he said he loved her. He could not see a future for him that excluded Faith.

Data stood watching the water until the suns began to rise. He knew Faith would enjoy the view so he went back into the cabin. She was still sound asleep, spread across the bed and tangled in bedsheets. He smiled at the image, having never seen Faith so relaxed.

He crawled back into bed, hovering over her. “Faith?” He drew back her hair away from her ear.

She stirred in her sleep, leaning into his touch. “Hmmm?”

“The suns are rising. It is a remarkable sight.”

She rolled onto her back, yawning. “You’re a remarkable sight.”

“Come see.”

She lazily lifted her arm and Data helped pull her out of bed. With the blanket draped around her shoulders, Faith shuffled outside with him. Together they sat on the top step, watching the sunrise and the tide pull back. Her head rested on his shoulder.

Data knew he would remember this moment. Not just because he remembered everything, but because of the significance. There were several of his memories of Faith which he had categorized by importance. This would certainly be one of them.

“What do you wish to do today?” he asked.

She slipped her arm through his. “Just this.”

Because he could not think of a better way to spend their time, he smiled. “If you wish.”

#may i?#Lt. Commander Data #commander data #lt commander data #data tng #Data Soong

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themockingcrows · 3 years

Text

Faint

Chronic invisible illness sucks. Sometimes we stay quiet. Sometimes we cope by giving our favorite characters our condition to get some comfort. This fic is the latter case, wherein Rose Lalonde has Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and deals with everything that brings in order to spread a bit of awareness.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31556225

She’d thought it was normal, till she brought it up to the others. The chest pain, the exhaustion, the dizziness. The sense of running on an internal timer so precise that if she overstepped its bounds it would be time to collapse into the void itself. The darkness at the edges of her vision when she’d been upright too long, when she was stressed, when she was running, dancing.

She’d thought it was normal, that everyone just had more stamina than she did before they had the same symptoms occur.

“That’s not normal. You should maybe see a doctor!” they’d unanimously said. John had been concerned, Dave had been flippant with jokes but the worry was easy to detect, and Jade was forceful with her reasoning.

Rose had finally told her mother something was wrong, to spur a visit to the doctor. It was hard to explain at first, but when her guardian further questioned how she felt, how long she’d felt that way, it had nearly turned into a shouting match.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What if something is really wrong, Rosie! This isn’t something to just keep quiet!”

If she’d known it was abnormal, perhaps she would have mentioned it sooner. If she’d known. If she’d had a reason, she might have even been able to keep up with ballet instead of having to quit, feigning disinterest when it still made her heart sing. Violin was hard enough to deal with, with her arms raised the entire time. But ballet was just a no go anymore.

To the doctor, then, after a few weeks of edge of seat waiting. The family physician, who they’d known for years. Who didn’t believe her. Not at first, at least.

He’d checked her weight first thing, and finding her normal range, asked about her habits. While he spoke, he checked her joints and how stretchy she was, keeping her moving while talking till she was reeling on her feet before he let her lay down. Stupid old man. Her problem felt like it was in her chest or her head, not her joints! She’d always been plenty bendy, able to pull off poses ahead of her ballet class with minimal effort, the stretches never quite feeling like enough to really pull in her body in a satisfying way.

Head swimming till she lay flat on the exam table, arms crossed over her stomach absently, Rose continued to answer questions.

She was doing okay in school. She was just more tired than usual.

Yes, this had been happening for quite some time.

No, she’d fainted before, but only once. And only because she’d been up too long dancing. She didn’t miss the curious look the doctor gave her mother, the raised brow. He checked her abdomen, he checked her glands, looking for distension or rigidity, looking for clues. Nothing. Nothing that she could see, at least. Nothing that felt any different from normal. He continued to talk, keeping her lying down for a while, and checked her blood pressure while she rested, the pulse oximeter being placed on her opposite finger.

75bpm, 120/80. Everything normal, everything fine. He left the devices in place, however, and then did something strange.

“Could you stand up for me, Rose? Nice and straight, right here by the table.”

There were no questions this time to keep her occupied. Just two sets of eyes staring at her in the small room, watching as she felt the cold sweat start up on her forehead, the shake beginning in her limbs. It was stronger when she stood still, when she couldn’t prowl around. She felt nauseated as the sweat turned to a hot flash and started to soak into the fabric of her shirt, and with it came the panic as she saw the darkness at the corners of her vision.

“Can I sit down please.”

“Not yet, try to hold out a little longer,” the doctor coaxed, inflating the blood pressure cuff once more. She focused on the discomfort on her arm instead of the pounding in her chest and head, the increased breaths. Nausea rose in her throat, bile, bitter, salt from excess saliva.

“Can I sit down. Please,” she said again, not caring that it sounded like begging.

“Nearly there, just a moment longer.”

She didn’t have a moment. She felt her knees quaking, felt the floor rushing up to meet her, but gratefully felt her mother’s hands hurrying to catch her waist and balance her till the doctor finished his data gathering.

80/50. 145bpm.

The monster had a name now. Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. There were hopes she’d just grow out of it, but there was a chance it might be long lasting. In her case it seemed to be at least partly linked to how bendy she was, how loose her skin felt, how stretchy it was, how easily she bruised. That, too, had a name. Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

What had been a slow appointment was suddenly moving very fast. Referrals were being made, appointments with different doctors at the big hospital in town, and paperwork was being handed to her mother in a thick stack. Informative pages, recommendations for diet, for exercises, safety precautions, warnings, risks. A whole new world was opening up below her and swallowing her whole, and Rose didn’t know how to feel about it.

One thing was certain, however.

She didn’t plan on telling her friends. Or anyone, for that matter.

It would be her little secret.

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

“...Is it going to hurt?” was Rose’s only question. She felt very small, much smaller than she’d felt at the clinic with her mother. The room here was bigger and more sterile, with strange looking machinery and electronics. She’d asked the same when she had her first EKG earlier, and had been relieved that the most painful part was having the gummy electrodes pulled back off after the painless test was performed. Something about being in a hospital gown and swinging her legs on a different looking exam table just made her feel even more fragile than the long walk through the building had. At least her mom was there with her.

“No, not at all. It might be a little uncomfortable, or a little cold, but there’s no pain,” promised a technician with a smile. She smiled back a little uncertainly, unconvinced. “All we’re going to do is get some pictures of your heart. I promise, an echocardiogram doesn’t hurt. It’s just a paddle with cold jelly, you’ll hold your breath when I tell you to and stay very still, and we’ll see how things look from different angles.”

“And you’ll tell me if I’m going to die or not.”

“No,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll be telling you if you have any issues with your heart valves or not.”

“Same difference.”

“You underestimate just how much the human body can handle before needing intervention,” he chuckled. “C’mon, legs up on the table and get laid back. I’m sorry for having to keep the shirt open, I know it’s embarrassing. Mom, you can see everything, yes?”

“Yes. Rosie if you need to hold my hand, I ca-”

“I’m fine, Mother. Thank you.”

“Well. If you change your mind, I’m right here.”

“Can you see the screen?” he asked Rose. She nodded, then went very still to watch the technician lift a bottle of gel and squeeze a splurt onto the paddle's end instead. “Right. Sorry this will be chilly, just try to bear with it. And-”

“Stay very still,” Rose finished for him as he opened the front of the gown and pressed the paddle to her chest. She hadn’t been watching the screen at first, but when it lit up with a fluttering white and gray form it was hard to ignore. She knew what it was, of course, though not what the technician was looking for. Seeing your own heart pushing blood around, flaring and calming as it cycled pulses, was kind of amazing. There it was, the only thing keeping her alive, and they were checking to see if any potential defects inside of its valves from the EDS were making her sick.

The procedure was quick enough. A roll here or there, a drop down section of the table for him to do further measurements underneath of her as she lay on her side, and soon enough she was done.

“What’s the verdict, am I dying,” Rose said, voice carefully calm and face deadpan. The papers from the physician had said this was a non-deadly condition, that neither of them would kill her, but the concept of damage to a heart valve of all things being real had brought out the morbid part of her brain.

“There’s a bit of a leak,” he admitted. “But your measurements are just fine and within normal ranges. I wouldn’t be too worried about it, but if you start feeling worse or new symptoms we might recheck within the next few years.”

Rose wiped off the gel with the offered cloth and covered back up while the technician spoke with her mother, the words flowing quick and easy as she asked questions and they discussed the findings. Rose herself stared at the blank screen for a moment before setting her hand over her heart, feeling the pulse, remembering how it had looked.

She was fine then.

All the more reason not to make anyone she knew worry.

She informed her friends that it had been a vitamin issue and that she was going to be just fine before changing the subject, getting swept up in conversations about games and comics and music all over again. Same as ever.

Same as always.

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

Treatment wasn’t much. Increased water consumption, and a stupid amount of salt. Compression stockings, when that alone wasn’t enough. Rose drank gatorade till she could smell it in her dreams, ate pickles and pretzels till salty foods lost their amusement and her mother had to get creative in the kitchen and with the ordering in catalog. Everything was salt and fluids, compression stockings just tight enough they gave her the will to live back. Thankfully they came in black and she could just pretend they were normal stockings, and for anyone just looking in passing, they would be just another part of her wardrobe.

Yet none of it was enough. The weakness persisted, the fatigue, and through it all that awful, stupid racing heart. If the sound of a beating heart could drive a man mad from beneath floorboards then, surely, the persistent throbbing in her ears and the pain in her chest from her own rushing tempo would be enough to drive her mad. Going to the grocery store made her sweat through her clothes, made her vision blur even as she clung to the cart for balance. More than once, she had to go find a deserted aisle to sit down on the floor in, legs stretched out in front of her, waiting for the worst of it to pass as she debated just how much she might regret laying down flat to hurry it along.

Rose assumed this was just how life was going to be. Stockings, salt, water, constantly living on an internal timer to get things done. Annoying, but not much of a burden. She could imagine living her life like this, one way or another. Others did it every day.

Then had come SBurb.

Fire from the sky and the end of the world, rushing, hurrying, breaking the bottle. She hadn’t been wearing her stockings for the day, but was grateful for the opportunities to sit, few and far between as they were. There was plenty reason for her heart to be beating out of her chest then; plenty of scary, inexplicably stressful things were happening. She had entered the medium with grim determination, and set about the task of destroying imps with a bit of glee.

She had to be quick in dispatching them, there was no alternative. Fainting around these things was unthinkable, and she had plenty of stress to get out with her knitting needles. Rose combined aggression with ballet and her own trained limberness for maneuvers that, in a normal situation, she’d never have reason to use.

It was thrilling.

It was-

Gasping and out of breath, Rose settled on her knees and held her chest after her latest kill, needing time to recover. To rest. It was like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t open her lungs enough. Like she was drowning on dry land. She gagged, saliva thick and sticky from exertion and, somehow, early dehydration. Slowly, she flopped onto her back and threw her legs up against the wall, feeling the ache and throb as the pooled blood rushed back towards her torso and brain.

Maybe she should get her stockings before continuing, given she had no idea what to expect going forward…

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

The game up through getting to the meteor had been quite the experience. She’d been able to pace herself somewhat, exerting herself in bouts that she could control better once she’d gotten some thoroughly upgraded weaponry in hand. Now, godtiered and being able to fly, she found she was able to handle being upright longer than usual.

Well.

Mostly.

She still had an affinity for walking normally. Maybe it was because it let her track her internal timer better, a long ingrained pattern she was comfortable with. Maybe it was the fear of falling from height, knowing it wouldn’t kill her but that it would still hurt unless someone caught her. There was also the setback of getting enough fluids and salt.

Gatorade was too much to hope for, but water was doable at least. Salt as a base was also available, but drinking straight salt water would have been anything but subtle.

...Maybe it was time to be honest. Rose was fairly certain that Dave already had an idea something was up, having been around her for some time by then. He always seemed to be watching her carefully, and after a few conversations with Kanaya she’d walked in on, even Kanaya had begun to have a more cautious air in their interactions.

Would that just get worse, if she told everyone?

How would Vriska react to such a thing? Such a weakness? The Seer of Light, waylaid by darkness brought on by standing for too long, she could hear it now. Brought on by sitting upright too long, sometimes. It had progressed in ways that she was frustrated about, spending time reading and trying to figure out how to make compression stockings of the right elasticity out of her god tier outfit in her down time. A dress? Sure! Simple! A garment that would help her out without cutting off all circulation to her legs or being useless? Bit more difficult.

At least Kanaya was content to let her recline whenever she wanted. She never asked, never brought it up. Instead she welcomed the blonde head to her lap, the subtle tug on her hand that meant she was going to slide to sit on the ground against the wall for a time to watch the vast space they were traveling through.

Maybe she would just keep it quiet forever. Or, at least, till after their final battles were done. When there was time to rest, when there were doctors again, Gatorade or something similar, she could get this under control and go back to her plans of dealing with it like she had imagined on Earth. Whatever lay ahead of them could be handled.

She’d keep it quiet. It would be her little secret.

Till she’d fainted in front of everyone, at least.

Another argument had broken out between Karkat and Vriska, Terezi egging on from the side and Dave adding the occasional beatbox for effect much to everyone’s annoyance and amusement in equal measure. Rose and Kanaya were observing and commenting for the most part, following them all up the stairs, but the growing intensity of the clog meant that the foot traffic had come to a stop.

Moments ticked by, then minutes.

Rose felt the shake in her knees, the cold sweat on her brow starting up.

“Dear, are you quite alright? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” she promised with a smile, looking ahead at the group who took up the stairwell. Surely they’d move any moment. Any time now. Any second. They couldn’t argue forever, not even Karkat and Vriska on a bad day, it would end any time. She just needed to hold on, and then she’d be back upstairs with her book on the sofa, feet up, recovering stealthily yet again.

The argument dragged on, and the pain in her chest started up. Vision blurring, Rose turned her head to glance down the stairs, half turning. Maybe she could go back downstairs and use the restroom or something instead, buy time for them to move while having an excuse on hand so nobody would be suspicious.

“I’m-” she started to say.

Her legs buckled beneath her, and she knew no more.

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

“See, if you’d just moved your ass instead of backing up into the wall like a cornered meowbeast, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not like I pushed her! I don’t know who pushed her!”

“Nobody pushed her, she just collapsed, I was right there. We’ve been over this.”

“Well, why did she collapse then!”

“Has she been drinking or something?”

“No, not that I’m aware. She ate earlier, too.”

“Sleeping?”

“Plenty.”

Rose slowly opened her eyes and stared up quietly at the ceiling, the view from the floor at the bottom of the staircase. The argument had a new source now, the squabble more contained than before, but still lively. Kanaya was watching Terezi pull Karkat and Vriska physically apart like she wanted to jump in and do it herself, but she kept her cool hands on Rose’s arm instead, immobilized. Dave had a notebook he was using like a fan over her face, cooling her off, drying the remaining sweat on her brow. He stopped when he realized she was awake, setting it aside and pushing his shades up the bridge of his nose.

She knew that look. Worry. Suspicion. It made her stomach ache a bit with guilt.

“You good now?”

“...Yeah. I fell?”

“Swan dived face first for the concrete, more like.”

Kanaya’s head jerked her direction and she smiled broader, leaning down to hug Rose tight around the shoulders.

“I was so worried! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” she admitted, surprised. “How-”

“I’m quick,” Dave shrugged, glancing to the side. Kanaya pressed a kiss to her cheek before carefully helping her to sit upright. “Hey, yo, shut the fuck up, she’s awake now. Everyone can stop the blame game, new topic after a quick five.”

“Lalonde, what was that about!” Vriska said immediately. “Did you just trip over your own feet?”

“Kanaya said she collapsed,” Terezi sighed. “Not tripped.”

Karkat glowered, but crossed his arms and was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Thanks for not painting the floor with your thinkpan, we’ve got enough problems around here witho- UGH” he grunted, Terezi’s elbow making swift contact with his side, halting his contribution to the subject.

“Are you sick or something?” Terezi asked.

Rose furrowed her brow, looking around at everyone. Looking back to Dave, looking to Kanaya, both of whom briefly exchanged knowing glances. It appeared the jig was up. Now to just let the cat out of the bag properly so it would stop suffocating.

“I fainted,” Rose said.

“No fucking shit,” came Karkat’s helpful response.

“It’s. ...I’ve done it before,” Rose said, trying to measure her words, trying to figure out how to explain quickly not only to Dave but to members of an entirely different species. “On Earth I was sick. I’m still sick.”

“So we just need to get you medicine or something, right?” Dave said.

She shook her head.

“I’m already taking my medicine best I can.”

“Man, if you know how to make meds can you whip up some pepto or somethin’, because I think I’m gonna die if I don’t get hold of some before the next time we eat makeshift Alternian shit,” Dave said. Rose shook her head again.

“Water and salt.”

“What about it?” said Kanaya, rubbing Rose’s upper back when she still looked a bit woozy. Rose accepted the invitation and leaned into her shoulder, hugging her with one arm to give herself a bit more courage.

“That’s the medicine.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Rose groaned and dropped her head against Kanaya’s neck for a moment before sighing and straightening once more.

“I’ve got a condition called POTS.”

“Like-”

“No, not like fucking weed. It’s Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.”

“What the fuck does all that mean? Are you contagious?” Karkat asked, getting another sharp elbow from Terezi, hard enough he slapped at her arm afterwards a few times in annoyance. “Will you knock that the fuck off?!”

“Don’t you think she would’ve mentioned something if she was?”

“SHE’S A FUCKING ALIEN! How do we know if it’s not contagious to US?” he argued, taking a quick step back to avoid yet another elbow coming his direction. Vriska caught him around the neck and scrubbed her knuckles deep against his scalp till he cringed.

“Preeeeeeeetty sure she would’ve said something that important before no- YOW!”

More than a little annoyed, Terezi yanked a section of Vriska’s hair till she released the thrashing Karkat, then quickly slapped a hand Karkat’s direction to keep him at bay.

“What’s it mean,” she said simply.

“It means my body is stupid and my brain doesn’t get enough blood to it when I’m upright. It all goes to my legs and can’t get back up to my head fast enough,” she said. “My heart races very badly and I feel like I’m dying and I get very weak. I get tired. I get sick. And if I’m not careful, I faint.”

“So it wasn’t a vitamin problem,” Dave mumbled. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

Kanaya frowned a bit, lifting a hand up to stroke a section of Rose’s bangs away from her face, to stroke down the side of her cheek with her thumb. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We could have watched out for you.”

“I didn’t want to hold anyone back,” Rose shrugged. “I thought I could handle it. And I didn’t want-”

“UGH great! Now we’ve got a whole person who’s useless to cope with!” Vriska shouted, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

“That,” Rose said flatly, more than a little annoyed.

“She’s not useless, she’s sick,” Dave said.

“SAME DIFFERENCE! It’s a weakness! A BIG weakness! We’re heading towards a huge fight and we can’t count on you at all now!”

Rose set her jaw. “I can handle myself. I just have to be quick an-”

“You can’t handle yourself, you just fell down the stairs from standing still! What if you collapse during battle, huh? What then? I’m sure as shit not sweeping in to save you, and we need all the god tier powers we can get to be FUNCTIONAL during a fight!” Vriska continued, yanking her hair free from Terezi’s hand to stalk closer, staring down where Rose sat, arms crossed. “What can you do? Ranged attacks while sitting down?”

Releasing Kanaya, Rose stood up quickly, immediately regretting it when her vision swam again. She braced herself and bent her knees before locking them in a wider stance for balance. It was a weak spot. A point of pride was that she’d come this far just fine as it was, and now that the cat was out of the bag her worst fears were coming true.

“Hey, easy, don’t go down again,” Dave said from behind her.

“Shut up, I’m fine!” Rose insisted. “What do you want me say, Vriska! That I promise I won’t collapse? You don’t know what I’m capable of in a fight! You don’t know what options I have on hand! Don’t discredit me just because I have this bullshit to deal with. If I can work around it, so can you. If you can’t then which of us is weaker in the end, me or you?”

It was spoken as a challenge, pure and simple. Tension was thick in the air as they stared each other down, Rose with her hands balled into fists, Vriska with crossed arms. Everyone was waiting for something to give, for the other shoe to drop.

“...Whatever,” Vriska muttered, the first to break position. She turned around and lifted her arms behind her head to stretch as she went up the stairs. “Humans are so fragile and booooooooring! Terezi, come help with dinner, I don’t know what to aim for this time.”

A collective breath was released. Terezi smirked a bit.

“That was pretty good, Lalonde. Normally she’d have kept going, but I think you got her in a corner now.”

“TEREZI, COME ON, I’M HUNGRY!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, keep your rumble spheres tethered!” she shouted, before turning with a laugh like broken glass to run up the stairs after her friend.

Karkat, alone with the trio, watched Terezi run off before looking back towards Rose. She shuddered, then quickly sat back down on the ground and flopped onto her back with a heavy sigh.

“I’m fine!” she was quick to say. “Just. Need to be down for a second. Just a second. Holy shit.”

“What, think you were gonna get into a catfight?” Dave asked, picking up the notebook again to sway over her face a few times just in case it was useful again.

“Yes!”

“Would’ve been funny,” he admitted.

“Would’ve been hilarious if this is what finally got us at each other’s throats,” she said sarcastically.

“How do you feel now that everyone knows what has been wrong?” Kanaya asked, stretching her legs out before scooting closer to Rose’s side and laying back as well. “Relieved?”

“Yes. ...Though. What if she’s right…?”

“First time for everything,” Dave shrugged. “Here, lift your heads up,” he instructed as he dropped the notebook and instead lifted his cape, scooting it in a wad beneath their heads. He settled opposite Rose and stretched out as well, one knee bent up so he could tap his foot occasionally, arms splayed out.

Karkat waited for a moment before Dave patted the open space in the circle, then came closer and flopped down as well, hands on his stomach.

“...So you’re SURE you’re not contagious.”

“Dude, with how often she swaps spit with Kanaya I’m pretty sure you’re safe just breathin’ the same air if she’s unaffected,” Dave pointed out.

“Well, good. ...Sorry for asking earlier,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know what to think! Lalonde being sick out of nowhere is-”

“It was rather obvious, if you watched her closely. Something was wrong even if I didn’t know what,” Kanaya said. Dave nodded as well, making Rose groan and cover her face with her hands.

“How obvious was I?”

“Real obvious,” Dave snorted. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got your back now, and we’ll have your back durin’ a fight. You know that.”

“I’ll slice anything that comes for you if you go down,” Karkat said helpfully. Given how much work he’d done hoping to be a threshcutioner before,

Kanaya reached for Rose’s hand as it came away from her face and gave it a squeeze. “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Rose sighed. “Yeah. I know. You’re right.”

She had backup now. And a while to think of how to explain everything to the others when they met up with them.

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

It felt like years ago, that final battle. Maybe because it had been years by then. It was kind of hard to keep track sometimes, really. She’d held her own, had backup, and they had all come out on top. They’d made a new world, populated it, let it grow and come back to live amongst everyone. She’d been hopeful that after all that, after all the advancements, there would be progress in her own disorders. Treatment options beyond salt and water, beyond stockings.

The fact there wasn’t, that it was still a chronic illness, that there was no magical cure in a special pill to take even after all of that, felt a bit like a slap in the face. Somehow, despite everything, having that bit of hope crushed had been enough to send her into a depression deep enough that it took months for friends and family to help pull her out of it.

There was no ‘better’. There was just coping. And she had to be okay with that.

She had options at least, thankfully. She could fly to get places faster than walking, even if she was on a harsher timer than before. She could drive. Her home was comfortable and easily accommodated a wheelchair that she could use outside of the home as well, half the time pushing herself along and the other half of the time being pushed by Kanaya when she got too tired. Life was good in many ways, even if there was no miracle to be had.

She was alive, married to the love of her life. She had friends and family surrounding her. She had aspirations for a long future, and hobbies that kept her plenty busy. It was enough for her.

When Kanaya leaned down behind her to kiss the side of her neck, sharp fangs barely there on her skin, Rose pulled the brakes on her chair and reached back to stroke Kanaya’s hair fondly. Her wife sat down beside her on the dock, overlooking the vast lake, and squinted out over the shimmering surface to make out where their friends were. A boat was heading this way and that trailing a water skier behind on a tow line, while two people flew above it keeping an eye on whoever was below kicking up wake behind them.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to participate?” Kanaya asked, amused when the skier went down into the water and was pulled up by the two flying lifeguards. “They said they had an innertube as well. You could sit and be towed.”

“Mmm. I’m fine,” Rose said with a smile. “Maybe next time, I don’t much feel like getting wet today. What about you? It looks plenty safe. Roxy and John wouldn’t let anyone drown.”

“I’d rather be near you,” she shrugged. “Perhaps we can have a turn in the boat instead later. We could take a tour around the lake without getting wet.”

“I love how your mind works,” Rose chuckled. She stretched a bit, then pushed the legs of her chair straight out, propping her legs straight out in front of her with a grateful sigh, pooled blood circulating somewhat easier again.

The skier was, apparently, Karkat. At least that’s what the shouting and cursing indicated as he struggled in the air with the duo holding him up safely. He dropped back into the lake with a splash, only to be carefully fished out again and deposited on the boat. Rose snorted a laugh before giggling at just how silly the situation looked from a distance, knowing she’d hear all about the details of it later from everyone involved. Kanaya looked at her with a soft smile before leaning against the side of the chair, nudging Rose’s leg till she stroked at her head and horns as one would pet a cat.

“I’m so glad to hear that sound…”

“Laughter? I’ve laughed a lot recently, haven’t I?” Rose asked, a little confused.

“Yes. You’ve been in such a good mood lately, compared to before. Every time I hear you laugh or see you smile it’s like sunshine.”

Rose leaned forward to press a kiss between Kanaya’s horns, making her wife hum softly, blissfully.

“You know just what to say to make an already good day better.”

Somehow, Rose felt, every day was just more proof that everything was going to be okay now.

((If you would like to learn more about POTS please visit this website for information!

http://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=30))

#Homestuck #Rose Lalonde #chronic illness #pots #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #EDS #my fic

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immortalonus · 3 years

Text

Where You Belong: Chapter 2

A/N: Hey folks, this is a day late from my posting on AO3, mostly due to tiredness/travel, but here it is! I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to put out the next chapter (In addition to being mostly dialogue, it's also a mess,) but I'll try.

Read it now on AO3

Chapter 2:

“Nope, nope, nope.”

In the realm of the dead, there was no night. No dark reprieve from the inescapable glow. A state that wore on eye and mind alike in its obstinate refusal to diminish or fade.

This did not mean the Zone was without its own sort of cycles, however.

Every seven hours, perhaps eight, the thin, omnipresent mists scattered throughout the air would begin to thicken, coalescing into a deep, impenetrable fog that stuck to every surface with a viscosity not unlike that of cold soup. It's brightness, too would gradually increase until the traveler was left all but blinded for the unending wall of light now spread on all sides before them.

Navigation in such conditions was impossible, and even ghosts seemed to prefer squirreling themselves away during these hours of fugue than to brave the blind depths the mists made of the world around them.

It was really nothing like night, but for conveniences sake, Valerie had taken to calling it as such.

It was now well into what she liked to consider “evening.” The mists had already weltered up, thickening strands not yet impermeable to the naked eye, weaving themselves into fantastic shapes ever larger across the atmosphere of the zone. Soon to merge, but not now, not yet.

While she normally preferred to travel as long as she could safely dare, Valerie had opted to settle down early that evening, using the extra time to sort through the goods held in the bug ghost's many sacks instead.

“Nope, nope, nope, weird, gross, and oh--hell no!”

Valerie yanked her hand free, shaking off the clear slime that coated her fingers as she threw the parcel and all its contents, still squirming, over the ledge of the small outcropping that served as her latest campsite.

If she were ever forced to say one nice thing about the Ghost Zone, Valerie would admit, grudgingly, that it did make a remarkably good garbage bin.

She sighed, allowed herself to stretch out and rest after yet another day of continuous exertion. One would not think riding on her sled for hours on end would tire her so, but it did. And when she added the additional effort of chasing down and interrogating that ghost--She grimaced, still unsure it had been wise to let the creature scamper free, in the end.

There had just been something in the way it had begged, had cried and whimpered as it carried out her every command with that slump of abject surrender that had just made finishing it off seem so, so...Dirty. As though she would be in the wrong, somehow, for doing it. It gave her such a sense of frustration. She couldn't help but wish that ghosts were precisely the emotionless hulls the Fentons believed them to be.

Oh, ghosts were essentially selfish, no doubt about it, narcissistic chunks of ectoplasm that only rarely empathized with their own kind, and never with humans, but they did feel.

Phantom, the bug, even Plasmius, in his own, twisted way, it was no longer something she could reject.

A part of her hated them all the more just for that, as though it made her life better, somehow, to know.

Couldn't she just have this one thing? After all the shit she went through, all the misery she bore, couldn't this one thing be something simple?

Goddamn ghosts, ruining her life, her stuff, and now her morals, too.How was she supposed to be the hero here? how was she supposed to save anyone, much less Elle, if she couldn't crush one goddamn dirty bug?

“Shit.”

Valerie flopped down on her back, staring into the viridian heavens with bitter eyes. The sky could not be bothered to stare back, rolling over in a cloud of mist instead.

“Shit,shit,shit!”

She tried to breath, but it caught in lungs suddenly shriveled against a breast-bone to tight for air.she clenched her fists, fingers squeezed into a shape fit for violence. Her body trembled, her hidden heart beat staccato as something hard and hot and sour twisted through her very soul.

“Stupid ghosts.” She whispered.Her eyes were cold marbles, but deep within her chest, she was still burning.

Valerie grabbed a stone laying loose on the ground beside her, pushed herself back up, and lobbed it with all her strength at the offending universe.

“You won't win!”

She picked up another rock, tossed it even further.

“I won't let you!”

She threw another rock, then another, as fast as her arms could reach them, intent on stoning the high green heavens for all the wrongs it had ever wrought against her. Each projectile went higher and farther into the encroaching mists, which swallowed them whole.

“You hear me! Not now, not ever!”

Even her screams were muffled, now, pressed against her ears by the haze. The stones made even less a mark, vanishing into clouds unrippled by their passing, engulfed the sound of their landing, if, indeed, they landed at all.Her chest heaved, her arm ached, but still her emotions threatened spillage. She felt at once utterly drained and full to bursting, squeezed of all verve even as her heart simmered still in some vague malcontent.

She flopped back to the ground, tired, but too troubled for rest.It wasn't all hopeless, she knew. She had an idea of where to go now, closer than she'd dared to hope, if the directions of the bug she'd captured earlier were to be believed.

And even if it was a lie, she'd still managed to buy herself some time.

She reached over to her right, where she'd piled everything of use from the insect's many stores. It was a pitiful stack, a single bag of food plastic wrapped or canned, adorned in letters and signs utterly foreign. But food it was, enough to keep her going a few days more.

She had set her stolen boot next to the parcel, and, resting just beside it, a crumpled polaroid weighed down by a worn leather fold.

She brought her hand down, shimmied the picture out from under its makeshift paperweight. Her other hand rose to brush across it, one last attempt, gentle, futile, at smoothing out the damage littering every aspect of its face.

It was fruitless, of course, but even broken beyond all repair, even with all the bitterness that lingered from the loss, the photo still soothed her, touching something deeper, more tenderly, than any hard flung stone.

She reached into the depths of her mind, grasping for those parts of the huntress that were always with her, woven in electric tapestry with the living currents of her brain.

Graphical Storage and Processing:Status: Active:

Recall request: Confirmed.

Data: Available, reporting 100% recall.

Overlay Request: Confirmed.

Initiating Command: Overlay:

Processing...

The change took place in the space of a moment. Emerald fragments reformed into broad leaves struck through with sunshine. Golden light struck their rays through the gaps where shadows fluttered down across the youthful oak that cast them, springing proud and slender from a meadow thick with blooms.

Beneath the shade of the tree, nestled between the long grass arches, there was a family.

They were at a picnic, the three of them, quilt littered with the remains of their meal. Cold chicken and half eaten corn cobs peeked out from broad folds of cloth, plastic water bottles refracted the scattered sunlight in their crumpled facets, where it danced across the surface of what liquid yet remained.

The man of the family sat beside a big wicker basket, arm resting over the thickly woven lip of its hatch. His face not yet wearied, his mustache quirked in a second smile as he looked into the long vanished camera with an expression of shy delight.Her father, Damian Grey.

A young Valerie could be seen sitting just in front of him, clutching a rubber ball nearly half her size. Grass stains streaked the young child's face, grin bold as she hoisted her rubber prize high above her head.

Besides the child, shoulders leaned in close press to the man beside her, knelt a woman. Acorn brown and satin soft, head tossed back in jubilation bold as summer. Her heat dewed neck curved swanlike above shoulders hunched up in mirth.

Valerie traced the outlines of the woman's face, slowly, ignoring—refusing—the ragged edges that brushed against her thumb as she outlined the vanished forms of her lips, her cheekbones, her chin, alight with a youth yet lingering even as the glow of motherhood softened the hard angles of ignorant adolescence.

A beautiful woman, vibrantly, vivaciously alive.

You would never know, looking at her, just how fast it would all drain out, her every pore a sieve for the good health she would never more contain.

But Valerie wasn't thinking about that, now, just as she wasn't thinking about the photograph or the damage it sustained.

Just for the moment, she allowed herself to focus only on the memory of a memory before her. If she imagined hard enough, she could almost see that sparkling smile turn, eyes opal dark and glimmering in delight at the chance to see her one and only daughter once again.

“Hey ma.” She said by way of reply. “Long time no see.”

#Fanfiction #Danny Phantom #Writing #Valerie Grey #Where You Belong #Chapter 2 #ao3 fanfic

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capybaraonabicycle · 4 years

Text

A Family Wedding - Part 2

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Rating: Teen

Summary: Jenny gathers her courage to talk to her mum

Warnings: I swore again and there’s consummation of alcoholic beverages that could count as underage drinking, also mention of guns

Words: ~2900

AO3

The ceremony was beautiful, and the vows had not just Jenny crying. She could not stop staring at her mum through the whole of it. She was so similar to her dad, of course, they were the same person after all. It still surprised Jenny how this Doctor had the same awkward goofiness about her and simultaneously the same age-old sadness in her eyes. And the same endless capacity to love, that was right now concentrated on River. It gave Jenny a wonderful fuzzy feeling, seeing them so content together among so many people who loved them. She was really very happy she had come.

All too soon the ceremony was done, and the Doctor and River moved to the edge of the balcony to receive congratulations and gifts. Martha tried pulling her over to them immediately, but Jenny held her back.

“Let them enjoy their guests first, before I drop the bomb on them” she pled, and Martha raised an eyebrow. Jenny was pretty sure she could read her nervousness right off her face, but luckily, she didn’t comment.

“Who are you then?” Mickey asked and sharing a long sigh and conspiratorial look, her and Martha set up for telling the whole story again.

When they finished, the line in front of the Doctor and River had shortened tremendously.

“So, are you going to talk to her?” Mickey challenged, nodding over to the Doctor, “You can come with us, we have yet to hand our gift over.”

He raised a little star-patterned gift bag with a smirk and Wilf nodded enthusiastically.

“You should go and talk to the Doctor” he agreed, “She will be very happy to see you.”

‘What if she isn’t?’ Jenny thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that aloud. Maybe, because then it would become a real possibility. And it was, wasn’t it? When she had first met her dad, he hadn’t wanted her.

“Then I’ll kick her ass” Martha whispered the answer to her unasked question into her ear. She smiled encouragingly when Jenny turned towards her.

“Okay” Jenny nodded, reaching for the hand Martha offered and letting herself be pulled towards her mum.

The people in line in front of them blurred together as Jenny waited anxiously to step forward. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was hiding behind Wilfred a bit. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to distract her mum from her other guests. Maybe it was because she didn’t feel ready to meet her yet.

Her gaze stayed trained on the Doctor, though, only occasionally flitting over to River when she laughed one of her belly laughs, throwing her head back or leaned over towards the Doctor to press a quick kiss to her temple. Jenny tried to memorize everything. The way the Doctor’s nose scrunched up when some of the guests made fun of her (that seemed to happen a lot), the way her face lit up whenever someone new stepped towards her or the way her smile deepened, whenever she looked at her wife. She wanted to take it all in, trying to grasp in a few minutes what kind of a woman her parent was now.

All too soon, it was their turn and Martha let go of her hand to present her gift with Mickey.

Jenny couldn’t pay much attention to what they were giving, apart from noticing that the Doctor was very delighted by it and River seemed a little amused. She was way too nervous now and also hiding became increasingly difficult. Her mum was here, almost close enough to touch. She had finally found her.

She hazily registered how Martha and Mickey finished their congratulations and came back to her side, Martha taking her hand again and only raising an eyebrow when Jenny stepped behind her. Wilf approached the couple, handing them two bulky gifts and when the Doctor opened hers, Jenny snapped out of her stupor.

“No, you shouldn’t have” the Doctor cried, tears of happiness rolling down her cheek as she detangled the binder from the wrapping paper. The front showed a picture of Donna and herself, in the body that Jenny had first met. The Doctor threw the book open and Jenny could see that it was full of photos of Donna and Wilf. The Doctor gave a choked sound, browsing through the pages, then she chuckled a little at a few of them, pointing some out to River, before she looked back at Wilf through teary eyes.

“This is wonderful, Wilf” she smiled, “Thank you so much.”

“’Course, love” Wilf said, “I thought she might’ve liked that, you getting some pictures, see what she’s up to now.”

“Thank you” the Doctor repeated. River had laid a hand on her shoulder, pressing it comfortingly now. She hadn’t opened her gift yet, giving the Doctor space for hers.

“Go on, Professor” Wilf encouraged her, “Got you something as well.”

Smiling, River let go of the Doctor to unwrap an old rifle. Jenny had to bite back a laugh when River’s expression turned as gleeful as the Doctor’s grew exasperated at the sight. She should have known. Of course, her mum would fall for someone as prone to guns as her daughter. She would like to see her try climbing back onto her moral high ground now. Hadn’t Jenny already decided she liked River the moment she exited the TARDIS, it would have happened now.

“It’s my old one” Wilf said, “From when I was in the army. I thought it might suit you nicely.”

“It does” River said. She cocked the rifle experimentally which made the Doctor huff. “Thank you, Wilf, she’s beautiful.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor” Jenny heard Wilf mutter under his breath, “Had her remodelled after the Dalek-invasion. She shoots paint now.”

He chuckled while he hugged both the Doctor and River. They placed his gifts on a large pile of presents and then, with a start, Jenny realised that she was next in line.

The Doctor looked up from her gifts, caught her gaze and froze. Her whole face went slack, stunned, completely overwhelmed. Jenny felt the urge to look away, but for some reason she couldn’t, had to keep her gaze fixed on her mum’s. It took the Doctor a while to find her voice again and when she did, it was hoarse.

“Jenny?” she asked, silently, marginally hopeful. As if she didn’t dare to believe.

Up until now, Jenny had been afraid, even though she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Afraid this might be a dead-end again and she wouldn’t find her dad. Afraid, that the Doctor might reject her again. But in this moment, as her mum looked at her finally, in this open, vulnerable, hopeful way, it all fell off. She just felt safe and secure, sure that she was at the right place, that she was home. She felt a smile sneak onto her face.

“Hello, dad.”

Immediately, the Doctor shot towards her, pulling her into a tight hug. All the tension left Jenny’s shoulders and she dropped Martha’s hand to wrap her arms around her mother’s slim frame. The Doctor pulled her impossibly close, burying her face in her hair and pressing little kisses to her head. Jenny only realised she’d been crying, when a small sob escaped her and she only realised she had closed her eyes, when she opened them and saw River’s knowing face. After a while, her mum reluctantly let go off her, only slightly allowing her to move away, just far enough so she could see her face.

“My, you haven’t changed a bit” she sighed, running her hand over Jenny’s forehead and pushing her hair behind her ear. It made her insides feel all warm and fuzzy again, and Jenny blinked away some tears.

“But you have” she grinned, “Dad.”

“Yeah, right, I regenerated!” the Doctor beamed, and Jenny nodded excitedly. Marginally she noticed how Martha, Mickey and Wilf stole away, but she kept her gaze trained on her mum.

“But…how?”, the Doctor asked, turning Jenny’s face slightly to look at her from all angles. “How are you here?”

“I don’t know”, Jenny admitted. “I just woke up and you were gone. So, I stole a spaceship and started running.”

A small, proud smile stole onto her mother’s face at these words, before her expression turned thoughtful again.

“Must’ve been the Breath of Life”, she murmured, rapidly coming up with theories. “It revived a whole planet, could’ve very easily done it to you as well. Or maybe…I wonder…maybe you have regenerative abilities after all, but they didn’t change your body because you were in the first 24 hours of your new regeneration! Oh, this is fascinating!”

“I’m just glad that whatever brought me back worked” Jenny laughed, “And that I’ve finally found you. By the way: Congratulations, mum, you’re married.”

“Oh, yes” her mum exclaimed as if she had forgotten about that in the meantime. She let go off Jenny with one hand to pull River closer. “Jenny, meet River, she’s fantastic. River, meet Jenny…my daughter.”

“So that’s what you’ve been up to, while I was a data ghost” River teased and Jenny didn’t understand a word, especially not the embarrassed mess that followed from the Doctor. What she did understand, however, was the love and acceptance in River’s gaze, when she turned towards her.

“Hello, Jenny” she said, lightly touching her arm as if she wasn’t sure how much contact was wanted but needed to make sure Jenny knew she accepted her, “I am very glad you found your mum. And I would love to get to know you if you like.”

Jenny could only nod again, which made River’s smile deepen. She spread her arms invitingly and without thinking, Jenny threw herself into them. The hug was amazing, not as tight as her mum’s, but close nevertheless and Jenny felt safe immediately. She distantly heard River whisper promises into her ear, that she would be loved, and all would be well now. When she turned her head, she could see the Doctor looking at her and River with total adoration and her hearts skipped a beat. She had to hide her smile in River’s shoulder and could hear the woman laugh, as if she knew exactly what was going on.

“What’s going on here?” a voice with a thick Scottish accent called behind them and Jenny turned in River’s arms. A ginger woman was striding towards them, the man who had walked River down the aisle trailing behind her. They were holding hands and some of the woman’s lipstick was smeared on the man’s face. Both of them were beaming.

“Killer wedding, Doctor” the man praised, doing a little awkward thumbs up with his free hand, “You really know how to throw a party.”

“Yeah” the woman agreed, “But we’re missing you on the dance floor. No one is doing the inflatable tube man.”

She waved her hands above her head mockingly, seemingly imitating the way the Doctor danced.

“I’ll have you know that among the Zocci it is considered a highly dignified dance move” the Doctor commented, and the couple snickered a little.

“Come on, Doctor” the woman said, reaching out her hand.

“River says, you always dance at weddings” the man added.

“Apropos” the woman grinned, and now her gaze was directed at Jenny, “Who are you and why are you cuddling my daughter?”

So, they were River’s parents after all. Jenny was dying to hear that story.

“That’s my daughter, Jenny” the Doctor answered, before she could introduce herself. The pride in her voice made Jenny’s hearts swell a bit more. “Jenny, meet the Ponds.”

“We’re not… that’s not how it works” the man murmured half-heartedly.

“You have a daughter?” the woman asked, speaking over him.

“Actually, we have a daughter” River corrected, “If Jenny wants that, of course.”

Jenny shot around to River who was grinning down at her and raising an eyebrow in a ‘so, what do you say?’-kind of way. She nodded fervently.

“Yes” she agreed, turning back to Mrs. Pond, “I’m their daughter.”

“Oh My God” the woman said and suddenly her face was very white, “I’m a …grandma.”

Her husband immediately put his arms around her in support as if he feared she might collapse.

“Dad, maybe you should get mum another drink.” River seemed to share that concern.

“No, I’m fine, I’m good” Jenny’s grandma was blinking rapidly, then she nodded sharply as if to will herself to accept her fate. “I’m splendid, indeed. I’ve got a granddaughter!”

She beamed at Jenny and slowly her granddad relaxed and followed suit.

“I’m still down for that drink though, Rory” her grandma grinned, when he let go off her, “But we’re taking Jenny with us.”

She made an attempt to reach for her, but the Doctor swatted her hand away.

“Oh no” she said, “You’re not abducting Jenny already, Amy. I just got her back.”

“Oh, yes, we are” Amy said, trying to reach around the Doctor, “We just met her, so we have to get to know her.”

“Maybe we should ask Jenny, who she wants to stay with” Rory offered.

The Doctor nodded approvingly, turning around to face her.

“And, just in case you have trouble making up your mind” Rory supplemented towards Jenny with a smirk, “Amy and I are getting drinks, so…”

“Ro-ry!” the Doctor complained, turning back to him, “That’s bribery!”

The Ponds just laughed at her and also River chuckled.

“Come on, now, Sweetie” she said, reaching past Jenny to take the Doctor’s hand, “I’ve been wanting to get a drink as well. We can all go together.”

She gently pressed Jenny’s shoulder. “Does that sound good?”

“That sounds amazing” she answered, hearts beating fast. She had grandparents! She had a whole family, complete with bickering and teasing and they were all going to get drinks together!

“Great” Amy said, reaching for Jenny’s hand, while the Doctor was distracted by River, “And afterwards we’re dancing. The Doctor must show us the tube man now, you have to learn how to do it after all.”

“I can’t wait” Jenny grinned, hurrying to keep up with her grandma. She noticed the Doctor opening her mouth as if to protest. However, she stayed silent, when River pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her cheek, mumbling a few calming words.

Jenny couldn’t pay much attention to her anyway. She was way too occupied with the feeling of her grandma’s hand in hers and the way her grandpa smiled at her while they led her towards the buffet.

“You have to try Venusian vodka” Amy declared, “Have you had it before?”

Jenny shook her head. She couldn’t stop smiling and she had the suspicion she wouldn’t anytime soon.

“’You sure, you want to give that to the kid?” Rory asked carefully, when Amy reached past the colourful prepared cocktails for the Vodka bottle.

“Come on, she’s old enough” Amy shrugged, pouring five glasses for them. She shortly considered putting the bottle back, but then decided to keep it in her hand instead, ushering for the others to take their glasses.

“You don’t have to drink with us” Rory pointed out, frowning at Amy and then River who was pressing the little glass into Jenny’s hand with a wink, “No matter what those two say.”

“It’s fine” Jenny grinned. It was not the first time she drank, after all. “But thanks, grandpa.”

Rory’s reaction to the title was one of pure delight and he almost dropped his glass. Jenny beamed back at him, then her gaze wandered to the Doctor. From the look of her mum’s face as she was sniffing the alcohol cautiously, Jenny had more experience with beverages than her.

“Don’t think I like vodka” her mum murmured, letting her tongue dart out to taste the liquid and immediately pulling a face.

“Hey, wait for us” Amy called, “We’re doing this together!”

“Yeah, you are” the Doctor snorted, pressing the glass into River’s free hand. She was still shuddering in disgust.

River just shrugged, throwing both of the drinks back when Amy gave the signal. Jenny downed her glass without hesitation. It burnt, but in a pleasant way and she was proud that her reaction was a lot calmer than Rory’s. He shuddered almost as much as her mum had done.

“Yeah, not my favourite drink either” he admitted sheepishly, while Amy and River looked expectantly at Jenny.

“And?” Amy prompted hopefully.

“It’s good” she agreed, and Amy gave a little a cheer.

“Let’s go dancing” she decided, placing both hers and Jenny’s glass on the buffet table and motioning for everyone to follow her to the dance floor.

“Amy, do you want to keep that bottle, or…” Rory called after her, but she just grinned and said: “Yep!”

River clapped her father’s shoulder comfortingly…while leaning over the buffet to grab a bottle as well.

“More of a wine drinker, myself” she commented when she reached Jenny, linking arms with her.

“You can’t take drinks to the dance floor” Rory tried to argue. He gave up when he saw the Doctor holding a glass as well and sniffing its very pink content curiously.

“Come along, Pond” she said to him, following her family, the glass in her grasp, “Time to do the tube man.”

Groaning Rory shook his head, but Jenny could see that it was just to hide his smile.

Thank you so much for reading! <3

This story is inspired by the fic ‘The Wedding of River Song’. Go check it out! :)

#a family wedding #doctor who #dw #fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #jenny #the doctor's daughter #river song #martha jones #wilfred mott #amy pond #rory williams #wedding fluff #alcohol #guns #dancing #13/river #the doctor/river song

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lolahasmoxie · 4 years

Text

Winter Break

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader (TEACHER AU)

Warning: curse words, smut, alcohol/edibles (18+)

Word Count: 2,081

Notes: I envision this as a sequel to “Fall Break” which I wrote a couple of years ago. I see Seb being a high school science teacher, reader as a middle school math teacher. The setting is Brooklyn (Red Hook) and the places I mention are real and ones I love and recommend.

Also, it’s late and I’m sleepy. Please enjoy whatever this is.

@ 11:15AM - Friday

“YES, WINTER BREAK MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Her loud voice echoed out of their shared home office, and a moment later she came bounding down the hallway adorned in an ugly sweater, black leggings, and oversized fluffy slippers. Her hands were raised over head in victory, and when she reached the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of Sebastian pouring a cocktail from the shaker into a highball glass.

“Right on time.” He said with a smile. Seb’s school had finished the day before, but he had gotten up early today to surprise her with coffee and bagels from Baked, her favorite coffee shop down the street. She took the offered glass, giving him a wary look.

“While I am always happy whenever someone hands me alcohol, I would like to note that it is only 11:15am.”

Seb chuckled as he poured the remains of the shaker into his own glass.

“After this semester, we have both earned this.” She shrugged, and they clinked their glasses before each taking a swig of the drink. She paused, finally realizing that Seb was dressed to go out as she put down her glass.

“Going somewhere?”

“Just downtown; I have to pick up a couple of gifts I couldn’t find online and then I have to go help your brother hook up some electronic stuff. I think I’m going to pick up dinner too.”

“I start winter break and you’re going to leave me here all by myself? That wasn’t part of the plan.” She gave her best pout, and he couldn’t help but smile as he stepped closer and cupped her face. He kissed her softly, pulling away after a moment before he got tempted to drag her into their bedroom.

“If I go now, we’ll have the entire weekend to ourselves. Plus, I know you haven’t finished inputting your data yet, and your A-type personality won’t let you truly relax until you do.”

“You don’t know me!” she responded, and all she got was a raised eyebrow back. They stared at each other until she took another sip from her drink, muttering something under her breath.

“I shouldn’t be too long, so why don’t you go finish up and tonight I am all yours.” She nodded, and he kissed her again before he gave her a quick goodbye and left their apartment. She stood in the kitchen and sipped her drink, looking down when she felt something rub against her leg.

“I can skip my work, Daddy doesn’t know me, right Alpine?”. The white cat locked eyes with her before yawning and giving a few chirps in response. “Fuck, he’s right it would literally drive me insane. Let’s go bud.” Alpine followed her into the office, perching on her lap as she sat down. Turning on Spotify, she took one last sip before getting to work.

At 3pm, she finally shut her laptop and stretched her sore muscles. She was officially done with work and checked her phone when it buzzed. Sebastian was going to be home by 5pm and as she wandered into the kitchen, she thought about what she could do to pass 90 minutes. The apartment was pretty spotless thanks to Seb the night before. He was also bringing dinner, so she didn’t have to cook. Suddenly, her mind remembered the jewelry box in the bedroom.

When she had gone home over the summer to see her family and friends, she had come back with some edibles she had hidden in her carry-on. She liked to use them if her anxiety got really bad, but she and Seb had also enjoyed a couple before school had started. But once September came, they were too tired or busy to enjoy them properly. But now, now they had two glorious weeks with no plans, and she was delighted to find four chocolates staring back at her when she opened her jewelry box. She took one, popped it into her mouth, and decided that now was the time to find some holiday movies on Netflix.

@ 4:48pm – Friday

She was engrossed in The Holiday when she heard the tell-tale jingle of Sebastian’s keys as he entered the foyer of their building. Alpine slowly stretched before casually sashaying over to greet him. She turned her head as he came in the apartment, his hair and the tops of his shoulders kissed with a dusting of fresh snow.

“Hey baby, your brother sends his love.”

“Mmmm, that’s nice.” She said and Sebastian paused placing bags on the island counter taking in her ultra-relaxed voice and posture on their couch. He walked over and leaned over to kiss her, and when he pulled back, he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You are high as fuck right now, aren’t you?”

“Nooooooooooo!” she said as she sat up straighter. She paused for a minute before making eye contact and blinking. “Okay, maybe just a little.” Seb giggled as he went back to pulling cartons out of the two bags, he had brought with him.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that I come bearing food.”

“What did you bring?”

“Something we haven’t had in a while.” She inhaled deeply, the scent of fried dough and meat filling her lungs as she felt her stomach growl.

“Did you really go to East Wind?”

“Yep, I have enough Dim Sum to feed a small army. Now Cheech, do you want one of your ciders or a beer?”

“I’ll take a Cider, please.” Soon Sebastian placed a plate heaping with food in front of her before taking the space next to her on the couch. They ate, making potential plans for the weekend while the movie played in the background. After the sun set, and after Seb had changed into sweats and the dishes had been put in the dishwasher, they were cuddled on the couch under a blanket while watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as the small Christmas tree in the corner and the lights on the window bathed the living room in soft colors. Seb had his arm wrapped around her shoulder, while she was cuddled into his side with her arm around his waist. She usually kept casual physical affection to a minimum, and he loved how the edibles opened up this side of her. He placed a kiss into her hair, causing her to look up.

“This is nice, all cuddled up with two weeks off and no real plans.” She hummed in agreement as she placed her leg over his, her foot rubbing his calf as she nuzzled his chest.

“We could make it even better.” The sultry tone in her voice instantly reminded Seb about another side effect the edibles had on her. Before he could respond she was placing soft kisses under his earlobe as her hand rubbed his cock over his sweatpants. He couldn’t help but whimper as her hand and lips began to set his skin on fire.

“Baby….” The words died on his tongue, coming out as a deep moan when her hand disappeared in his pants and grabbed his now fully hard cock while her teeth grazed his Adam’s apple. It was a race to disrobe after that, clothes landing here and there before she was bare before him, climbing into his lap before leaning down to finally kiss him. He pulled back when she did, watching her as she reached between them to line him up, mesmerized at how the Christmas lights cast red and green against her naked skin, only looking away when he felt her warm wet heat envelop his cock.

She stilled when he bottomed out, her face buried in his shoulder as his fingers began to trace over her skin as he felt her warm breath against his neck. He waited patiently for her to move, and he smiled to himself when he felt her hips begin to rock. His eyes locked onto her face as she moved, looking to see what she might need. She was never overtly vocal during sex, but the hitches in her breathing were a dead giveaway he knew to look for. His hands found her hips, thrusting up to meet her rhythm. Her eyes were closed, brow furrowed in concentration and he took it as his cue.

She made a noise of confusion when his hands stopped her movement, but when he angled her hips and thrust up, he stole the very breath from her lungs. His second thrust had her against his chest, her fingers digging into his skin as he made her toes curl. His thick cock filled her perfectly, and when he wrapped his arms around her body, she was enveloped by him completely. She managed to rest her forehead against his, the two of them breathing each other in as he expertly hit her g-spot again and again.

“Look at me.” he managed to rasp, and when she hesitated, he responded with a harder thrust. “Please” She did as he asked, and she found two blue eyes looking at her. The way he looked at her during times like this, filled with so much love and adoration, it made her feel like she could burst under the weight of that gaze, but all coherent thought left her when his fingers began to circle her clit. She gave in to the feeling that was spreading through her body as the coil in her belly began to wind tighter and tighter.

Sebastian knew she was close; her breaths were getting shallower and quicker, and he could feel her walls begin to pulse and tighten around his cock. When she came, it was gasp followed by a breathy moan that shook him to his very core. He grit his teeth, his hips not stopping when she collapsed against his chest, her body shaking and trembling in his arms. When he came it was with low growl, his hips still moving at a slow, steady pace as he tried to prolong both of their pleasure. He only stopped when he felt her tap his shoulder three times, her signal that she needed him to stop.

She could barely make out the television in the background as Sebastian ran a hand up and down her back. She could however make out his low voice heaping praise on her as she came down from her high, telling her how wonderful she was and how good she was to him. After what felt like ages, she managed to lift her head. When she looked up at Sebastian, his gaze was already on her, a stupid dopey grin on his face.

“There’s my sweet girl.” His voice was low and raspy, she could feel the vibrations through his chest as she lay her head back down.

“Well, that was one way to kick off break with a bang.” He chuckled as she ran her fingers over his bicep. They stayed that way in quiet repose, her eyes were starting to close when he tapped her waist to get her attention.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Already?” she asked with a confused sleepy expression which made his heart leap in his chest. He helped her off his lap before he stood up, his hands finding their way to her waist as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t think I’m done yet; in about 15 minutes I will be thoroughly prepared to rock your world again.” He had a cheesy grin on his face as he waggled his eyebrows at her for emphasis, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness.

“Fine, I’ll be waiting. Why don’t you turn off everything here and, uh…fair warning; if you aren’t in that bed in 15 minutes, I will be starting without you.” She leaned up to place a quick kiss on his lips before she promptly turned and left him stunned.

He watched her walk away, a lovesick smile a mile wide on his lips as she disappeared into their bedroom. He made quick work to turn off the TV and to unplug all of the lights. He quickly fed Alpine, asking the cat to be a good boy and to let Mommy and Daddy have some quiet time alone. As the furry beast dined happily, he gave one last look around the living room before making his way down the hallway to your bedroom, his heart full and happy.

It was going to be a GREAT Winter Break.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you

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silvereddaye · 4 years

Note

👀

What if Luke was found by Vader at the age of six? Padme lived and joined the Rebellion? What happens when Vader dies and leaves a message behind for his wife?

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

There was a distinct sound of a click, followed by the sound of a machine starting up. Engines started to whirl and slowly the large double doors started to slide open. Padme could see that they were thick, a few feet thick, thick enough to guard against a bombardment. What was beyond these doors? What had her husband left here for her?

A month ago the news of the death of Darth Vader spread across the galaxy. There was shock and celebration and very little mourning. At least genuine mourning. The Emperor had held a memorial service with rows upon rows of stormtroopers forced to attend. But amongst the Empire, there were those who celebrated Vader’s death.

Padme was perhaps one of the few people who had cried. Maybe even the only one. She wondered and worried about her son. How had he taken the death of his father? Luke had been raised by Vader since he was six. She had always hoped for the best for the father and son pair and that they found love with each other. But at the memorial service, Imperial Prince Luke Vader had an emotionless face. If the loss of his father meant anything, he did not show it publicly.

But only a week after Vader’s death, she got a message from her dead husband. It was delivered to her by the bounty hunter Boba Fett.

“You’re not here to kill me or take me in?” she had asked him.

“I was paid very good money not to,” he said. She wondered how much that was considering the bounty on her head was one of the highest in the Empire as one of the leaders of the Rebellion. “As well as to deliver this to you should Vader ever be killed.”

“And what if you were killed?”

“I wasn’t,” he said as he handed her a data chip.

It took her a few days before she looked at it. One night she couldn’t sleep, so she sat at her desk and inserted the chip into a datapad. It asked for a password. What password? She tried typing her name. That didn’t work. His name. His real name. The name of their children. The name of his ships. Their birth planets. His mother’s name. She sighed. Then she slowly typed in the word angel.

At once a blue hologram of Vader popped up. He didn’t say anything for several long moments. Only his breathing was heard.

“Padme,” he finally said. Her breath caught in her throat. “If you are viewing this, it means I am dead. I . . . I . . . There is so much I regret. So much I wish to tell you, but I will tell you this. I love you. I have always loved you. I . . . I have left you something. Credits. I know you want nothing to do with me and my money, but I want you to have them. Use them to fuel the Rebellion, but please use them. Plus there is . . . more . . . waiting for you at these coordinates. I love you, my angel.”

She had cried herself to sleep after that. It took another two weeks before she finally found time to fly out to the coordinates. It was a desolate and lifeless planet with nothing but sharp grey rocks and matching grey skies. The place was filled with abandoned mining equipment and crumbling factories. It looked like the place had long since been sucked dry of whatever resources it had. She wasn’t surprised she found herself landing in a large mine.

She was surprised by the huge double doors on the other side of the mine and that there appeared to be no way to get them to open. There was no control panel. No wires. Nothing. How was she going to get inside?

Of course.

She couldn’t do this alone. She needed a Force-sensitive to open the door and the Alliance had several Jedi and former Jedi members, but only one she would ask. This was far too personal and private to ask this of anyone else besides her daughter.

So another few weeks passed until Padme finally managed to get them both free from their obligations, and once again she found herself back in the large mine this time with Leia at her side. Using the Force, the young woman quickly found a mechanism on the other side of the door that opened the doors.

They stood side by side as they watched the massive things roll open. Leia took her mother’s hand, gave it a squeeze before they walked in. Padme had her blaster up and ready and Leia lit her blue lightsaber. The tunnel beyond the doors was long and angled downwards. Eventually, even the doors disappeared as they kept going. Their only light was the glow of Leia’s lightsaber and a yellow glow rod Padme had lit and held in one-hand. On and on they went. Deeper and deeper into the earth.

What had Vader hidden down here for her? Just credits? It couldn’t just be credits. There had to be more. There was something else. There were a lot of other ways to get credits to her if that’s what he wanted. She knew there was something waiting for her down here.

They had been walking for two hours when they finally came to the end. It was a smooth metal wall with a single door in it. The two exchange a look before Padme walked up and pressed the door release. Surprisingly, it opened without any passcode. A short hallway opened up to a large circular room. It was tiered, with one level going around the perimeter then it would go down three steps to the center level.

It appeared to be the main living area of whatever this place was. The inner level had some couches and chairs to the right side and a dining area to the left. Above the dining area on the higher tier was a small kitchen area. The top tier also had an office workspace with a desk, computer terminal, and small holoprojector. There was another workspace area, but it was just an empty desk by the wall. There were a few closed doors spaced around the room. Most likely these led to bedrooms, a refresher, and hopefully to the storage area.

“Where should we check first?” Leia asked as if reading her mother’s mind.

Padme eyed each of the four doors but then turned to the workspace. Perhaps the terminal would have a map of this place. Maybe even another message from Vader. She walked straight there and sat down, however, the terminal needed a password. While she worked through various words she thought would unlock it, Leia wandered around the room. Her lightsaber hung loosely unlit in her hand.

Padme sighed.

Of course, he hadn’t made this easy. Why would he? Even in death, he had to be infuriating as if he had to have the last word. They should just go. Whatever was down here could stay down here. She had done fine the past twenty years without his help; she didn’t need it now. If he really had wanted to help her why wait until he was dead? He had plenty of opportunities to reach out to her over the years.

She stood up, stretched, and right as she was going to call out to her daughter a door slid open. There was a snap-hiss as Leia ignited her blue lightsaber. It had once been her father’s when he was a different man.

Someone walked out and stopped. They looked at Leia and her lightsaber.

“Anakin?” Padme said.

A pale bald head turned towards her. She’d know him anywhere, even without the helmet. She had never seen what he had looked like . . . after . . . his fateful duel with Obi-Wan . . . but she knew he lived in his life support suit for a reason. No way would Anakin Skywalker limit himself to such a device unless he had to. And seeing him now, it confirmed her suspicions.

His skin was pale, grey, and scarred. The skin around his eyes was dark and baggy. He wore a large oversized black robe that hid his body that could possibly hide life-support machines. There was a thick metal collar around his neck with a clear breathing mask covering his nose and mouth with tubes connected it to the collar. There was a faint hiss of a respirator.

Leia had taken a step back, but her saber was up in a defensive stance.

“It’s you,” she said slowly; her eyes never left him.

There was a slight nod of his head. He gave Leia a long look, before he turned to face Padme.

“You . . . You came,” he said. His voice wasn’t the deep baritone that she had come to know as the voice of Vader. A voice far removed from Anakin. It was wheezy and weak, but there was still a weight to it.

“You’re alive,” Padme growled as she snapped up her blaster and pointed it at him. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I am,” he said. There was no fire in his voice. He sounded defeated. “And perhaps I should have died, but I could not allow it.”

“Oh? Please, don’t tell me you have had a sudden change of heart.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “And if I said that I have?” His eyes slowly reopened. They were dark and she wondered what color they were. Ahsoka had told her his eyes were now yellow ringed in red. Eyes of a sith. But if that was so now, shouldn’t she be able to tell? Even from this distance?

Leia let out a soft snort. “So what? You died and when they resuscitated you and got your cold little heart to start pumping, you finally rediscovered it or what?”

“I never came close to death,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow and Padme pursed her lips.

“What game is this?” Padme snapped. “You’ve faked your death? Lured me here with Leia. Now what? What do you want? To join the Alliance?”

Vader looked at his wife then at his daughter. “I have no desire to join your pathetic and doomed Rebellion.”

“I was starting to doubt if you really were Darth Vader,” Leia said. “But now you’re starting to sound like him.”

“You know who I am, girl,” he growled as he raised a hand and pointed a finger at her. “You can feel it in the Force, just as I can feel you. Let us stop with this foolishness. Come, we have lots to discuss.”

“Do we?” Padme asked. Vader’s hand lowered and he turned to fully face. “Why am I here, Anakin? Tell me why I shouldn’t just leave right now?”

There was a breath. Then another. Vader’s chest rose and fell with the light sound of his respirator.

“This has nothing to do with me,” he said. “This is about Luke.”

He turned. His robe billowed and fluttered behind him as he stalked back through the door he came through without a look back. Mother and daughter shared a look. Should they proceed? But Padme knew the answer the moment the name had left Vader’s mouth. She holstered her blaster, gave Leia a reassuring nod, and walked to the door to follow her husband.

#ask silver #my writing #wip #i should finish this one #thebixo

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lo-55 · 4 years

Text

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 11

Forget putting a bell on Maul, Maul was going to put a leash on Kenobi.

The foolish boy had made the executive decision to leave before dawn with no more than a note.

Maul handed the piece of flimsi to Jango, his jaw set tight.

Dear Mr. Fett and Maul,

I went back to the Agri-Corps dome to get another look at the secret room in case I saw something I missed before that might help Master Jinn. I will return with lunch around midday planet time. Thank you for last night, and I apologize for the inconvenience.

Sincerely, Jedi Initiate Obi Wan Kenobi

Jango didn’t look any happier to see the note than Maul felt. He knew Kenobi was impulsive and foolish but this was truly ridiculous.

How was it possible that this was the same man who had consistently beaten Maul through his lifetime?

Maul paused.

Well. Kenobi had charged a Sith head on after his vaunted master had fallen to his hand. He’d taken only a single other Jedi to confront that same Sith when he had back up. He’d left the Jedi with no help at all to try to rescue Satine. Maul had seen him fight on full battlefields and loose his lightsaber. And, he was also the one who had raised Skywalker and Tano.

What was that saying about Neti falling from their branches?

Maul realized with no small degree of horror that Kenobi had mellowed with age, and this one was twice as rash as the one he’d known.

Well fuck.

Maul had been busy in his room in the morning after breakfast, and Jango had been off talking to someone on a private comm that he wasn’t allowed to eavesdrop on, and in the middle of all that Kenobi had just. Vanished.

“I should have kept a better eye on him,” Maul scowled at the flimsi, quietly willing it to light on fire. He’d never gotten the hang of spontaneous combustion, and it didn’t work now either.

Jango shot him an unimpressed look over the edge of the parchment. It was small, hotel issued.

“I’m pretty sure you’re younger than him,” Jango said patiently, “so if anything he should have been watching you.”

He didn’t even bother with Maul’s bristling pride this time. Jango wouldn’t snap at him, of that Maul was certain, but he was clearly irritated by Kenobi’s lack of forethought.

It didn’t help that a moment later the door swung open and Clat’Ha strode in, her eyes white around the edges, with Jinn in tow.

Maul blinked at the white bandages plastered to the normally dignified Jedi’s nose. Was Jinn getting in bar fights now? At this point it wouldn’t surprise Maul.

“What-”

Jango was cut off by Clat’Ha, who had gone pale.

“It’s Obi Wan. He’s gone missing.”

Maul’s blood went cold. His face blanched to grey-pink. “What?”

Missing? Truly missing?

Maul’s mind went to Xanatos. He was the only other threat they had encountered on this journey. Well, the only one that still lived. The draigons were gone, the pirates were space dust, only the washed out Padawan was left.

“He went to the AgriCorps dome this morning,” Jango said, showing them the note. Jinn’s mouth thinned into a line and his brows pinched together.

“Si Treemba said he saw him there, but he vanished. They heard shouting and fighting near the annex they found the other day, but when they got there Obi Wan was gone,” Clat’Ha shook her head mournfully.

“We have to find him,” Jango spoke for all of them.

Jinn held up his hand.

“We must be patient,” he counselled, and Maul knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted to strike the Jedi in the face. “If we rush in with haste, we run the risk of putting him in further danger.”

“Funny to hear that from the Jedi,” Jango snapped.

Jinn narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect a man like yourself to understand the subtleties of bidding ones time and gathering information-”

“It’s hard to gather information when you hoard cards to your chest like a hutt on a losing streak-”

“If you needed to know I would tell you-”

“Like you told Obi Wan? Listen you-”

“Enough!” Clat’Ha snapped, stepping between the bickering men. It was enough to get them to cut it out, at least momentarily. “Arguing helps no one, now shut up. Our first priority needs to be looking for Obi Wan. I’m going out to the dome to see if I can find any leads. And you two are not going to go after eachother the second I’m gone, got it?”

She looked pointedly from one man to the other, until both were bowed to her will.

Maul would have been impressed in any other situation.

“Kenobi isn’t dead,” Maul said with certainty. All three looked at him, startled. Maul met their eyes defiantly. “He’s not weak enough as to roll over and die just like that.”

“...The kids right,” Clat’Ha’s shoulders relaxed and she slowly eased into a smile. “We’ll find him. I’m off, I’ll comm you if I find anything new.”

“I’m going to go to the dockmaster,” Jango said finally. “I’ll find out if there’s a ship that’s left Bandomeer that might have him on it. Maul, you should come with me. It’ll be dangerous.”

Maul shook his head. “I’ll find you later. I wanna check on a rumor I heard first.”

Jango eyed him suspiciously, but Maul had proven himself resourceful and dangerous. Reluctantly, the Mandalorian agreed.

“Just keep your head down, okay? I’ll be very upset if I don’t get the chance to adopt you properly.”

Maul kicked his boot. “Cut the sentimental Banthashit,” he scolded. “You’re supposed to be a Mandalorian, a fearsome warrior!”

“And there’s nothing Mandalorian’s value more than our ade, Maul’ika. Children are our future, and you are mine.” Jango patted his head lightly, minding his horns. “Meet back here tonight, or I’m coming to find you.”

Maul rolled his eyes. As it he hadn’t noticed the tracer Jango had slipped into his poncho pocket. He would leave it be for now. If he went somewhere he didn’t want Jango following he would take it out and attach it a tooka for Jango to follow after.

For the time being, he left the apartments and headed to the Offworld admin building in Bando.

It wasn’t hard to sneak in through the vents. It was one of the only good things about being this small again, was how easy it was to slide through buildings and ships. He had to carefully rerout a few cleaning droids, but besides that he didn’t have any trouble finding Xanatos’ office. He did, however, notice that the door was hidden behind the same opaque wall that Kenobi had found in the dome.

Certainly Xanatos’ work.

Maul briefly considered kicking out the grate and ripping Kenobi’s location from Xanatos’ screaming throat, but the building was situated between an actual mine and a smelting facility. There would be guards, miners, and a hundred other workers in the building, and if it went into lock down Maul had seen laser grid generators in the vents on his way in. He didn’t fancy fighting an army of disgruntled Offworlders or getting cut in half again, thank you.

There was always window, he supposed…

But Maul was patient. He had to be.

He hated it.

It went against his very nature. Still, he was rather good at lying in wait.

He watched Xanatos work. It was hard to see from this angle, but in the reflection of the window Maul caught his fingers moving, and the input of codes. He watched the pattern that formed. The computer showed only a code, and while Maul didn’t have the key he had enough to work it out.

He even got the password.

Crion.

When Xanatos made for the door Maul carefully lifted a familiar lightsaber off of his hip and set it gently aside. As soon as Xanatos left Maul slowly eased his way out of his hiding place. He grabbed the lightsaber, one he had once thrown into the plasma generators in Theed, and searched Xanatos’ correspondences for any mention of Obi Wan in his little code. He found a few, but they were vague and brief.

It told Maul just enough to know that Obi Wan was alive, and had been sent a mine in the seas.

Maul copied as many files as he could and saved them a data stick in the desk drawer before he made off for the vents and the outside world.

By then it was nearing dark. The miners had traded shifts, and the office workers had gone home.

Maul was sneaking around the side of the building when he heard something very interesting.

Jinn.

The master was sneaking around the shadows like a common thief. Like Sith. Maul nearly laughed. The Jedi hypocrisy would never cease to amaze him.

"If you have plans for Bandomeer, you should know I am here to stop you," he said, his voice low but full of Force. It really was his intention to put a stop to his former Padawan’s ploy here.

Xanatos flung one side of his cloak behind him dramatically, and Maul could see the lines of lineage. Kenobi had a habit of stripping himself of his own cloaks, as did Tano. His hand rested casually on the hilt of a lightsaber. A familiar lightsaber.

Xanatos patted the lightsaber. "Yes, I still have it. After all, I trained for all those years. Why should I give it up like a thief, when I deserve to carry it?"

Maul was beginning to think he was going to have to write down when he knew about Jedi traditions and cross check it. He had been raised to kill them, which meant he needed to learn how they fought and how their sentimentality made them weak.

He didn’t know there were rules about keeping lightsabers after leaving an order.

To be fair, a sith never would have been given the chance.

"Because you deserve it no longer," Jinn answered. "You shame it."

A flush spread over Xanatos' face. Jinn’s comment had hit him. Xanatos still cared what Jinn thought of him.

Good.

Maul could use that.

He was stiff, and angry, then he relaxed, smiling. Maul tracked his emotions carefully. Weaknesses. Everyone had weaknesses.

"I see you are still a hard man, Qui-Gon. Once that bothered me. Now it amuses me." Xanatos began to circle around him. "We were friends at the end, more than Master and apprentice."

"Yes," Jinn said, taking careful steps to keep up with Xanatos. Maul tensed when he turned so he could have seen him if he were looking. He didn’t.

"We were."

"All the more reason for you to betray me. To you, friendship is nothing. You enjoyed my suffering."

"The betrayal was yours. As was the enjoyment of suffering. That is what you discovered on Telos. Yoda had already seen it. And that is why he knew you would fail."

"Yoda!" Xanatos spat the word. "That knee-high troll! He thinks he has power. He hasn't dreamed of a tenth of the power I know!"

"You know?" Qui-Gon asked mildly. "How do you know such power, Xanatos? A mid-level manager of a corporation, sent to do the board's bidding?"

"I do no one's bidding but my own."

"Is that why you're here? Is Bandomeer a test of your abilities?"

"I don't take tests," Xanatos snapped. "I make the rules. Bandomeer is mine. All I have to do is reach out my hand and take it."

He circled closer, his cloak swirling and brushing against Jinn. He was a viper waiting to strike, but his fangs weren’t out. Maul knew Xanatos’ words. He had heard the same himself.

A Sith does not wait for opportunity. He makes opportunity, and then he reaches out and takes what is rightfully his!

The lesson, like many, was accompanied by pain. Maul had limped for a week afterwards, but only where Sidious could not see it.

Power. What did this wash out know of power? He hadn’t even made it to Jedi Knight.

"It's a tiny planet. Galactically insignificant. Yet it pours forth wealth into my hands. If you would only lose the tiresome rules of the Jedi, it would do the same for you. But no, Qui-Gon is too good. He is not tempted. He is never tempted."

"Bandomeer is not yours to own! You were always overconfident. You have gone too far

this time."

"No." Xanatos drew his lightsaber. "Now I have gone too far."

Maul cocked his head. He could feel the Darkside swirling around him, brushing his skin, searching for its place inside him. His body was too small to house much of it yet, but it was not he who called it, merely he who had a true hold of it. He who was its child.

“Those who accept the power of the dark side must also accept the challenge of holding on to it.” Maul startled. He didn’t recognize the voice of his memories. “By its very nature the dark side invites rivalry and strife. This is the greatest strength of the Sith: it culls the weak from our order. Yet this rivalry can also be our greatest weakness.”

Xanatos laughed again, breaking Maul away from his thoughts and the voice.

"You destroyed everything I loved," he accused, his lightsaber barely missing Jinn’s shoulder, so close it singed the fabric of his tunic. "You destroyed me that day, Qui-Gon. Yet I was reborn. Stronger, wiser. I have surpassed you."

Maul snorted, and started to leave. He decided he didn’t care about the rest of the fight. He needed to find Kenobi and he actually had a lead. He would come back and finish cleaning up Xanatos’ mess later.

Kill him, maybe. Offer Kenobi his head for recompense.

Well.

Maybe not that exactly. Kenobi could be squeamish,

"And where is your new apprentice?" Xanatos sneered.

Maul didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it. He knew the answers already. A deep sea mine. There were only a few close enough to the shore for a control freak like Xanatos to send Obi Wa- Kenobi to.

Maul did stop long enough to send the information to Jango. He figured he might like to know where he was going, and where Xanatos and Jinn currently were duking it out.

Meanwhile Maul found a small transport to take him out to see. He knocked the owner out cold, stashed his body, and stole the ship. He kept it low to the waves. In the darkness of the night any guards would be hard pressed to see him approach.

He wasn’t met with blasterfire when he stopped the transport underneath one of the high legs of the rig. Maul secured it and spidered up the sides until he was sneaking on board. His come flashed with an incoming message from Jango, one that he soundly ignored.

When he reached the top of his rig Maul pulled out his (finally finished) weapon.

Maul held what looked like a S-195 blaster pistol, with slightly longer than average barrels.

They made a perfectly functional blaster, with only slightly weaker bolts than a regular one would have.

Maul was still working on that.

It would work for this.

Carefully, he snuck into the mine.

He had to ride on top of the turbolift, out of sight of the hulking, but stupid guards. They would be easy to mind trick, but tricks only lasted so long and he had seen slave collars like the ones on the sentients he passed. Those would be rigged with explosives. He rather liked Kenobi with his head on his shoulders, thank you.

Once he was further down he could feel it.

Kenobi’s light.

Something was keeping it dim, but still there. A suppressant?

Xanatos was really getting annoying. Maul was killing him when they got back to the mainland.

If Jango didn’t beat him to it.

Maul should have answered him comm so he could call dibs.

Too late now.

He hopped off the turbolift when he reached the floor where Kenobi’s presence was the strongest. It was till a phantom thing compared to what it had been before, nevermind what it would be.

Maul kept his hood drawn firmly and made his way further inside.

Deep in the undersea caves the slaves were kept in bunks. There were no bars to keep them in place, for their collars and their emaciated state did that just fine by itself. Maul could tell at a glance that most of them were half starved, or more, and beaten on the regular.

The collars around their throats stood out over standard, tattered jumpsuits. The guards were lax beings, and with a simple command the two playing dice outside the bunks fell asleep.

Maul picked his way through the slaves.

It reeked of unwashed beings, blood, and sickness.

Maul found his way to Obi- Kenobi, who was resting uneasily beside a spindly limbed being. Phindian. Weak joints, and a particularly pronounced jugular. Maul considered fourteen ways to kill him before he turned to his target.

Maul tapped Kenobi lightly on the shoulder with his boot, startling the little Jedi awake. Maul touched his mind lightly, minding the darkness inside of him and keeping it careful. Just enough that Kenobi recognized him in his frightened, sleep addled state.

Blue eyes stared up at him, Kenobi’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Maul?” he asked quietly. Hope trembled in his voice and Maul’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.

People weren’t supposed to feel hope around him. They were supposed to fear him! Maul scowled down at him and tossed his lightsaber at Kenobi’s gaping face.

Kenobi caught it on reflex alone, the weapon calling to him. It had felt utterly wrong in Maul’s calloused hands, his anger not mixing with the righteous light and the burning hope that lived inside Kenobi’s crystal.

Kenobi cradled it to his chest.

“This weapon is my life…” he whispered, a sentiment that was shared between Jedi and Sith alike.

“Then you can owe me twice,” Maul said derisively. “Let’s go. “

“I can’t!” Kenobi touched his collar. It was buzzing faintly with electricity. Maul scowled.

“Can’t you use the Force to turn it off?” Maul asked irritably.

Kenobi shook his head miserably. He was a sorry sight, his clothes tattered and, now that Maul was close enough to see, his back burned with familiar marks of electric whips.

Maul had a veritable tapestry of those same scars across his own back.

“They’ve cut me off. I can barely feel it anymore,” Kenobi’s voice cracked.

Maul winced in unwanted sympathy. He knew the feeling well. It was one of his masters favorite punishments.

Maul knelt before Kenobi and reached for his throat. The little Jedi twitched but didn’t fight against him. He tilted his chin to give Maul better access.

The metal was sturdy, it would be hard to cut through without killing Kenobi along with it, and the electric charge was near to the tiny explosive. Not small enough to blow through a wall, but it would do plenty of damage to soft human skin.

It would be easy to turn it off. Getting it off was another matter.

Not to mention the rest of the slaves that lay around them.

Maul looked down to find the phindian watching him through slitted eyes.

“...You’re not going to let me leave the rest of them here, are you?” Maul asked, exasperated.

Kenobi startled. “What?”

Maul pulled his hands away and stood up to brush off his cloak.

“Show me where they keep the spare parts for the equipment,” Maul ordered shortly. Kenobi frowned.

“I don’t know where those are.”

Maul gave him an unimpressed look. “Haven’t you ever escaped from a prison before?”

Kenobi frowned at him. “Why would I have had to do that?”

“... Jedi really don’t teach anything useful, do they?”

“Hey!”

“Obawan,” the phindian finally gave up his ruse and sat up. “Your friend will free us.”

Maul quirked a brow.

“Not so!” The phindian waved his long arms. “He will cause us trouble.”

“I’ll definitely cause you trouble if you don’t quiet down. Who knows here where the spare parts are kept?” Maul demanded shortly. He pulled his hand back to reveal the blaster holstered at his side. The phindian paled and Kenobi smacked Maul on the leg.

“Don’t threaten him! He’s my friend, Guerra!”

Maul rolled his eyes. “Then he should be helping. I won’t ask again.”

The phindian, Guerra, stood up reluctantly. He looked dead in the eyes. Yet, in the furthest depth, there was hope.

Maul bit back the urge to stomp it out. He needed this being’s help, for the time.

Guerra looked to the sleeping guards warily. Maul rolled his eyes. “They aren’t waking up soon. Get going.”

Other slaves stirred around them. Eyes watched them through hooded darkness. Maul breathed in the despair and fortified himself. It was going to be a long night.

Guerra lead him into the tunnels, down the hall to locked room of spare parts. It took Maul less than a minute to pick the locks. They were old school and not very advance to begin with.

Once inside he found a power pack for one of the big drills they used in lower levels, a wire coil, and disemboweled the locking mechanism for the doors. The circuit boards were kept carefully intact while he fetched a small tool box, conveniently equipped with a soldering iron, and set to work.He attached his wire coil to the capacitor for the door, and connected that to the big battery. While he was at it he found a heavy magnetic coupling splitter. He wished for Daleen. She’d already have the whole place turned on its head electronically.

With his girls, and his brothers, Maul could have done anything.

He would get to them soon enough.

“What are you doing?” Guerra asked nervously. “This is fun! Not so. I do not trust your friend, Obawan.”

“I’m making an EMP generator,” Maul said shortly.

Kenobi’s face split into a startled, hopeful smile. “You can do that? Where did you learn? Did Jango teach you?”

“Hmm? No. Now hold still. The collar’s going to tingle and then all the lights will go out. Stay close to me. Humans have terrible vision.”

“Hey!”

Maul ignored Kenobi’s indignation and pushed the ‘lock’ button. The door fizzled, the battering flickered faintly with electricity, and everything went dark.

Maul relished it.

“Let’s go get your friends, Kenobi.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Obi Wan stayed close to Maul as they prowled through the darkness.

He couldn’t understand how he could see so well, his gold eyes glowing faintly in the darkness like embers to an unseen fire. Maul was one mystery after another.

Obi Wan had thought him to be a Mandalorian, like Jango, but he wore no armor and he didn’t speak with the same accent. He fought viciously and without mercy when it was needed. Kenobi could not forget the grim comfort he had taken during their fight with the draigon’s to have someone as skilled and determined at Maul at his back while they battled off their death. His every shot was perfect.

Even before that, he’d felled two hutts in the span of a breath.

Maul was unlike anyone Obi Wan had ever met before.

Admittedly, he had mostly met Jedi. Obi Wan had never been out of the temple, and it showed sometimes now. In the temple he had never been hungry. In the temple he had never hurt so badly for so long.

Obi Wan swallowed those thoughts and followed Maul in the darkness. He could sense him through the Force, his presence dense and heavy. There was a gravity to Maul, in his sharp teeth and gleaming gaze. His ferocity was frightening, but as Maul had said, he did not allow his anger to control him.

He controlled it.

Obi Wan could not say the same thing.

It was his own temper that had resulted in him being sent away from the order, and his own impulsiveness that had lead him to leave behind the safety of Jango and Maul to investigate on his own. He just wanted so badly to impress Master Jinn he thought-

They would have come with him, he realized now.

Fett was a good man. Even if he was Mandalorian, and Obi Wan had only hear horror stories about them, he had held Obi Wan’s shoulder when he’d felt like he was drowning in his despair and spoke kindly to him when he didn’t have to. He offered to help with no chance of recompense.

And here Maul was, guiding him through darkness. Saving him.

Saving all of them.

Shame welled up in Obi Wan’s chest.

How could Obi Wan tell Maul that when he’d come to free him he’d been so relieved he barely thought of the other prisoners? He had thought only of the weight being lifted off himself, in the scant seconds before Maul brought up the idea of freeing everyone. How could he call himself a jedi when he was so self centered?

When he’d opened his eyes and found his friend looking down at him, half hidden in his familiar poncho, he’d been confused. But the Force whispered of Maul, of bright eyes and vicious determination, and he hadn’t been afraid for even a moment.

Maul was comfortable, in the same way a nexu would be to those familiar with it. He was dangerous to be certain, but he’d never hurt Obi Wan. He’d only ever helped him, from the moment they had met on the Monument, when he’d been thrown into Mauls arms.

Obi Wan grasped Maul’s poncho as he trailed after him. His other hand held his lightsaber.

“If you throw up, I don’t have anything to clean your mouth with,” was the only warning Obi Wan got when they returned to the slave bunks. Maul pulled a knife from his boot, the movement something Obi Wan felt more than saw, and slit the guads throats.

Obi Wan should have mourned their loss. Any good jedi would have.

But his back stung, and Guerra’s haunted words whispered through his mind, and the pain of the miners and the death that permeated the air choked down any grief he would have for the slavers. Obi Wan was sickened to realize he would have killed them too if he could have.

“The light, Little Jedi.”

Obi Wan, somewhere between grief-sick and warm whenever Maul called his that, lifted his saber and ignited it.

In the pale blue glow hallowed faces watched the three of them.

“We’re leaving,” was all he said.

“The collars,” started one slave, a human who had lost his eye fighting the other day.

“They’re off,” Maul said shortly. “And if you’re that worried, here,” he held up something shaped vaguely like a wrench. Obi Wan stayed still when Maul reached for his collar again. The soft leather of his gloves ran across Obi Wan’s throat before the wrench found its way across a seam he hadn’t noticed. There was a click and the collar fell off in two pieces.

Silence fell. Then, one by one, starting with Guerra, the rest of the slaves approached. Maul unlocked their collars. He set them all free.

“What is your name?” One of them asked at last, their voice hoarse and rough.

Obi Wan’s companion regarded him carefully.

“...Maul,” he said at length.

The word spread through the slaves in the whisper. Maul hunched his shoulders and shoved the wrench into a togruta’s hands.

“It’s a magnet lock,” he said gruffly. “Fit it around the edges.”

He stalked away, and was followed by the rest of the newly freed slaves.

A young twi’lek women, one scarred across her face, stopped them. There were tears in her eyes. A single one fell from the left and she wiped it away before touching it to Maul’s cheek. Maul twitched away from her, his hand flying to his blaster, but he didn’t draw.

“You have broken our chains,” she said quietly. “May water find you in the desert, and the sun find you in the snow.”

Obi Wan didn’t understand, and the look on Maul’s shadowed face said that he didn’t either, but he inclined his head all the same. For someone who boiled with anger all the time he was remarkably patient.

Obi Wan had never seen him take his temper out on someone who hadn’t wronged him first.

They make their way through the darkness. More than once did Maul had Obi Wan extinguish his saber before guards rounded the corner. In the shadows he draw his knife and snuffed their lives out. He didn’t fire his blaster once. It would have made too much noise, and given away his position.

Where had Maul come from, if Jango had not taught him these things?

The finally reached the surface. The clear air of the night blanketed the newly freed sentients.

There was no way to call for a ship to pick them up, but within an hour one came to investigate the silence from the mine. The Offworld insignia blazed on the side.

Obi Wan helped Maul take the ship by force. Together he guarded Maul with his ‘saber while Maul blasted through their attackers.

The climbed on boards.

It was a good sized ship, and once they were further in Obi Wan understood why.

The ship wasn’t just sent to investigate. It was sent to reinforce them. New slaves took up cages in the cargo hold, and across from them were exotic animals. There were monkey-lizards and glittering vulptex. He saw colorful kiros birds fluttering around one cage. Obi Wan found a tiny varactyl in a cage that squeaked at him when he came closer. It was no bigger than a tooka, and it payed through its cages, as if sensing safety from him.

Obi Wan broke the lock and took out the little lizard to cradle in his palm. He turn to ask Maul when he thought and paused.

Maul had stopped in front of a small crate where shadows moved within.

It took Obi Wan a minute to realize that the shadows were three slim, young creatures that hummed with the Force. Tails lashed through the crate and tiny clawed paws lashed out. Maul growled, something low in the back of his throat. Obi Wan felt it then. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with anger, hurt, sorrow and grief. It swelled the room before reached a crescendo and falling again.

The fighting from the animals was over.

Maul opened the crate and three small vornskr, two males and female with a chopped ear and a crooked tail, went tumbling out.

They circled Maul, rubbing their cheeks along his legs and chirping up at the startled looking boy.

The moment was ruined when a human woman came back from the front of the ship. The togruta with the locking device followed after her.

“We’re going back to the mainland,” the human said. “You should buckled in.”

“Thank you,” Obi Wan said with a short bow.

She nodded once at him and left.

Obi Wan looked Maul, who finally gave him a crooked, gap toothed grin.

“Through victory our chains are broken,” he said, the words slow and solemn despite his smile. There was something familiar to them, and the Force hummed its agreement.

Maul had set him free.

#Darth Maul #Maul #darth maul time travel #time travel #star wars time travel #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #qui gon jinn

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caraway-ship · 3 years

Text

// Playing recording… //

The colony of Ors was never meant to be permanent. We were never meant to last more than a few years, and then get replaced by the actual settlers. The palladium and lead deposits detected on Aurum-3 had left the higher ups promised profits, riches found once in a lifetime. [[MORE]] They scraped together a ragtag colony kit, just a few pressurized habs and barebones life support, not even an atmosphere processor to our name. They outfitted it with whomever they could get on the shortest notice, and well, starting out as an exocartographer is difficult. You take what you can get. I wasn’t set off by the three days given to prepare to ship out, at least not enough to not be allured by the handsome paycheck they offered, cash upfront in return for shipping out before their survey data was released publicly and one of their enemies saw the treasure waiting. I wasn’t expecting to do much, maybe a few survey missions, mostly just sitting around until the actual colony fleet arrived. Well. That’s what I expected at least.

When the survey team first saw the outer edge of the phenomenon, they thought it was just another weird feat of geology. With the millions of worlds out there, there were plenty to go around. This one was unlike what I’d ever seen before, huge geometric spires shooting at discordant angles from the ground. The techs with their worldshell ultrasound imagers said the deposits were centered some sixty kilometers in from the slight curve that was the edge of the phenomenon, and I was in the first survey team they sent in to investigate.

We were supposed to find a good spot for mining, and I was to map the area. What we thought at the time were ravines and canyons, hard-edged and black as basalt, seemed to close in around us as we approached the center. Our geologist, Harrison, had sampled it: A Lead-graphite alloy, seemingly, almost uniform throughout the outer edges of the phenomenon. They had surmised that this may have been a meteorite at one point, crashing down, the fires of atmospheric drag melting it until it melted and filled its crater, creating a perfectly flat, almost perfectly round disk.

And that’s the other thing that spoke to me as odd - It was nearly perfectly flat. Not flat like the surface of a planet, fitting in with the curvature of the planet, but flat as a plane. It gave the eerie feeling of a slight downwards slope towards the center, sickeningly subtle.

I did my best to track our progress, using GPS and some satellite imaging to create a map of our path. Despite each corridor feeling the same as they last, there was no discernable pattern to our movement towards the center. Connection to our main settlement was out, the company had skimped on comsats and our only one went on the fritz a week before we had left on the survey mission. Typical. Normally, we would also have been connected directly to Ors Command, but the mass of black spikes lying between us and them ensured that didn’t happen.

At around forty kilometers towards the center, our driver stopped. The walls, which had now noticeably started to creep in closer, had gotten too close to safely pilot the rover through. We conversed briefly, and decided to split up. The first group, including me, Harrison, and a marine named Clint, would go on ahead, taking one of the rover’s tent habs and light pressure suits to try and make it to the center. Our pilot, engineer, and researcher would stay back to try and find another way through for the rover. We packed our bags, taking surveying equipment, radio beacons with centuries-lasting RTG batteries to mark our path and meals enough for three weeks. It would only take a day or two to reach the center, but erring on the side of caution never hurt anyone.

The next morning, as we set out, the sheer scale and immensity of the phenomena we found ourselves surrounded by set in. Spires of dull black metal, thirty meters tall now, seemed to be set to cascade down around us. I was on edge at all times, looking out for signs of the first to start to fall.

Progress that day was relatively slow, compared to the rover. We made about 10 km that day, having to rig beacons between and to the sides of spikes in order to set them upright. They wouldn’t dig into the leaden floors. I had remarked to Harrison, them being one of the people I worked the most closely with, that I was reminded of a demonstration I was shown as a schoolchild growing up on Shisurna station, a collection of ferromagnetic nanoparticles suspended in an oil, making hard spikes as a magnet moved under it. I shuddered, imagining the spikes here flowing and crashing back into the plane beneath us, with us between them.

That night, as we set camp in the now 3 meter wide corridor, Harrison called me over to show me something. While we had been walking, they had noticed a sheen over a patch of one of the spikes, and had managed to scrape off a sample. “It’s gold,” They said. “Bet my life on it.”

The next day, we began to see more and more of that sheen, then gilded patches like discolorations in birch bark. We were fascinated, and Harrison puzzled over what may have caused it. It couldn’t have been part of the original meteorite, unless it was solely in one point. Otherwise, they said, we would have found similar patches all throughout the phenomenon. They were still unsure of what may have caused the spikes themselves, but were sure there was some explanation, if their bouncing ideas off of me was any sign.

The spikes surrounding us grew as we approached, reaching now thirty meters or more into the grey sky. We were having to pick our way through them, sometimes climbing up one then sliding back down others as the paths grew too narrow to traverse. They also grew in girth, some growing to as much as ten meters at the base. We were dwarfed in comparison, and my combined awe and horror at their sheer size peaked as our contact with the rover was lost.

The patches of gold continued to grow in size and intensity along with the spires themselves, sometimes leaving streaks 5 meters long in the cold black metal. My best efforts to find some sort of pattern in the layout of the monotonous cacophony surrounding us failed, and I struggled to plot a path as we nearly altogether stopped following the channels through the leaden ground. Then, it all stopped.

The ground before us opened up, spikes suddenly stopping before a circular clearing, about 1 kilometer in diameter. Perfectly flat ground lay ahead, streaks of gold flaring out in all directions as if they were caught fleeing something. The center was almost all coated in gold, flecks and streaks of black lead abruptly breaking through. In the very center, jaggedly curved arches about 15 meters tall stood in a circle. The sheen was impossible to ignore, and despite the ashen atmosphere, rays broke through to glare off the arches. They stood menacingly, their shadows cast fifty meters to a side. We spent some time setting up camp a bit out from the arches, then took more time investigating them.

When Harrison and I reconvened, they were almost imperceptibly shaking. After discussing with them their findings, we had come to the same conclusion: There was no denying the evidence, no natural causes could have crafted this phenomenon. The arches height, perfectly dividable by pi, and their purpose: A sundial, left no room for nature. But why? If they had crafted this, surely they would have known the barren wastes surrounding it, would have recognized the futileness of placing something important here, where it would be nigh-impossible to reach.

Our discussion was halted almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of pressure release, then vomiting. During our discussion, we had neglected to pay any mind to Clint, who had been investigating all the while. He had wandered into the center of the arches, and was peering at a circular groove I had noticed while walking through. There he now sat, helmet off, hands on knees, vomiting. The vomit was tinged red, I saw, as Harrison and I rushed towards him. As we approached, I realized what I had mistaken for a groove was, in fact, incredibly small text, engraved in the golden floor. In common script, in my native language, Uraian, a thousand times over in a thousand tongues, a singular phrase.

“THERE IS NO HONOR TO BE FOUND HERE”

Harrison knelt beside Clint, now collapsed in the center of the circle, blood dripping from his lips. I noticed a pale red discoloration on his cheek, then another, then ten more. I then involuntarily stepped back in revulsion, as his abnormally pale face became coated in a hundred welts, seeming to bubble and ripple as they grew and spread. His face contorted in pain, and he coughed, spattering crimson across the smooth gold. Then he didn’t move.

Harrison turned to look at me, and I saw the same welts begin to bubble under their skin through their faceplate. They must have seen my expression, or maybe just felt the pain, as they began to scrabble at their faceplate.

My mind, despite my horror, couldn’t help but posit a question, one that may just save my life. Why them? Why hadn’t I been infected? I staggered back again in horror, then another step, then I turned and sprinted as fast as my pressure suit would allow on the slick metal ground. I felt it first on my legs. A dull burning, slowly growing in intensity as it spread up my limbs and reached my chest. I could no longer feel anything but the burning, and I collapsed behind the arch’s pillar as I began to feel it creep onto my palms and face. Immediately, the intensity died down. It’s still there. I can feel it. Creeping, slowly, corrupting and twisting of it’s own volition, taking and turning and burning… I was lucky enough to have the time to take this down. I don’t know how long I’ll last. I was lucky enough that the survey cameras have a microphone, now that my datapad seems to not be working. There’s no promise that this will make it out, but let it serve only as a warning. The riches aren’t worth the cost. This place is cursed, it’s promises are false, a lure. Hnn. I can feel it again, the burning. I can’t feel my legs anymore. Fuck.

// End recording. //

Recovered from Aurum-3 by remotely piloted drone.

The bodies of colonists recovered from the phenomenon seemed to have been symptoms of severe ultraviolet burns, as well as last-stage cancer in multiple spots on their cadaver.

Cause of death ruled as multiple organ failure.

#horror #scifi #scififantasy #writing #space horror

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buckyscockring · 4 years

Text

Against Your Better Judgment (Kylo Ren x Reader Smut)

Summary: There’s just something about the Supreme Leader that pulls you, like a thread.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Implied sexual content, angst, Kylo Ren being a fuckboy (because what else is new)

Words: 1467

Author’s note: I haven’t written fan fiction in four whole years — and I wasn’t a big writer then, either — but I got gassed up to do a fan fiction writing challenge! So here’s the result: a cute little slutty, angsty moment.

You didn’t know why you had shown up to Kylo’s quarters that night, or the first one. Well, no, you did. It had started with a glimpse.

You had always noticed the Supreme Leader’s purposeful, tense gait. You had always watched the way his endlessly long, meaty legs stretched before him, and how his even longer cape whooshed behind. And you were so diligent, especially in your position as a ranking First Order officer who reported to General Hux, to keep your ideas about what you wanted the Supreme Leader’s legs to do to you — to bounce you up and down, to rub against your cunt — to yourself. You know, the Force and his ability to hear thoughts, and all of that.

But when you had rounded a few wrong corners and caught Kylo with his mask off that day? The sheer shock tripped you up. You were hopelessly lost en route to a semi-important meeting with a traveling First Order delegation, and couldn’t find the memo on your datapad with the new room number. In a completely foreign wing of the Finalizer, uniform damp with sweat and Hux’s inevitably harsh, shrill voice in your ears, you panicked and decided to duck into a conference room you knew would be unoccupied. No one’s ever in here, right? You thought triumphantly, ghosting your badge over the sensor and letting out a relieved breath as the door slid open.

You made it about two steps in before you dropped your data pad. You felt your body stiffen at the sight of the Supreme Leader’s massive, sturdy frame, languid against the glass window. “Sometimes, I am,” Kylo Ren said, answering your question out loud.

As you heard the door slide shut behind you, you raked your eyes up his legs, the quilted slope of his ass, his slightly cinched waist, his broad shoulders — against your better judgment. Again, your eyes flicked up to the waves of raven-colored hair that had replaced the Supreme Leader’s usual menacing mask. He turned quickly and out of pure instinct, you stumbled back a few steps.

His face was long, olive-colored, and… soft?, you thought in surprise. You watched his eyebrows raise at your observation as you drank him in. He had a graceful, aquiline nose and eyes the color of gasoline. They had a vicious glint to them that said, Give me the torch, I’m hungry for it.

Your eyes caught on his lips, which were a soft pink, pretty plush, and wholly too inviting for someone who was a cut-throat, decorated warrior; a Supreme Leader; someone who gladly slayed other generals and leaders and federation presidents with their bare hands; someone who had shaped and shattered history with a flick of his wrist. You tried to imagine those lips giving the command to wipe out entire planets.

But all you could think of was, So, that’s the face I’ve been dreaming of sitting on.

You watched in horror as your thoughts ran through Kylo’s mind — and then in horror again as his nostrils flared and his lip twitched wickedly, his tongue darting out to lick it. He took an animalistic step closer to you, and you felt all the blood rush to your ears — and your pussy. “Is that so?” he asked.

⋆⋆⋆

You knew why you went to his quarters that night. You knew why you were in his room now: barefoot, out of uniform, and too fucking comfortable rifling through the shit on his coffee table. First Order uniform catalogues. Napkins with engineering notes on them. Some more scribbled numbers and scrawl. Alien money — Kylo had a thing for foreign coins and bills. And, ah, yes, smutty postcards from other planets. Your head turned at the sound of the bathroom door sliding open and your breath caught against your will.

Kylo smirked darkly, leaning his sinewy machine of a body up on the door frame. “I know you’ve hated me lately, but I bet this makes you hate me a little less,” he said in that deep, melodic voice of his.

You rolled your eyes and tried not to look at his massive, veiny cock as you strode past him into his bedroom. “Here!” You threw the towel you had grabbed off his dresser at him. “We need to fucking talk, Ren.”

“If you’re not going to call me ‘Kylo,’” he said, pouting as he wrapped it around his waist. “Then that’s ‘Supreme Leader’ to you.”

You turned and sat on his couch, gesturing to the seat across from you. “Stars,” he said under his breath, plopping down. “You really hate me, huh?”

“No, I’m just fucking tired,” you said, running a hand over your head. “Honestly, I just need answers. Like what are we doing? What the fuck are we doing?”

“Fucking, eating really good food, fucking, stargazing, fucking, occasionally actually sleeping together, and —” Kylo fake-paused, leaning his elbows on his high knees. “And, uh, fucking some more.” Part of you wanted to see if you could make out his dick under his towel from this angle, but your eyes snapped up. A wolfish grin spread across Kylo’s face as he heard your thoughts.

“Stars, yes,” you said, hurriedly. “But you know what I’m asking you. Don’t act like an idiot, Kylo. You’re too smart for these kinds of games.”

He leaned back. “I’m very smart, which is why I play these kinds of games.” He shrugged emphatically, and your eyes couldn’t help but watch every muscle in his arms and chest contract and expand. “It’s just how the game goes.” He looked at you with those dark, lust-blown eyes that always had a hint of something nefarious in them.

“The game, meaning you…” You gestured around. “Give all your whores boyfriend or girlfriend-type attention, without the ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ title. You keep them on the hook,” you spat, eyes tracing his face. Kylo’s lip quivered slightly. “Just enough, right? Just enough so that they think they have a shot and fall in line.”

He leaned forward, reaching toward you. “You said all my whores. I only play this game with my best ones,” he cooed, voice like velvet as he put his large hand on your knee. You looked down at it with disdain, feeling your pussy throb as you watched him flex his fingers. It took everything in you to open your mouth and say, “Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

His eyes flashed mischievously and he raised both his hands in the air. “Okay, love, that’s fair. But wouldn’t you much rather be fucking than fighting?”

You tried to subdue a shiver as you shook your head. “I’d only much rather be fucking if I knew what this was. Like… I hate how I sound right now. Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it,” he commanded, in a voice that sounded a smidge too close to the one he used in bed. “What are we?”

“Vessels of flesh,” he said. “That like to pound into each other.”

“Outside of that?”

He tilted his head, smiling cruelly. “If you have to ask…”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, half out of embarrassment and half out of arousal. “I just wish the lines were fucking clearer!” you ground out. “I don’t want you to spoon me, play with my hair, orand talk about the trips you’re going to take me on, and fucking — I don’t know — look out for me at work? If we’re not going to be boyfriend and girlfriend. It just — I — It’s not right,” you yelled, exasperated. “You’re giving me false hope. You’re making me want something I can’t have.”

His mouth quirked a bit again. “Let me ask you a little question: Did I ever say that we would be partners? Equals? Did I ever explicitly give you that idea?”

You froze, feeling as small and as insignificant as that first day you caught him without his mask. And then you drew yourself up. “Whatever,” you said, coolly, standing. “I’m not giving you this pussy any longer. We’re done, Ren.” You gestured with your hands, slicing through the air. “It’s over.”

“Okay, love,” he said, leaning back in his chair. You watched water drops slide down his wide chest, swimming down his taut stomach and into his damp towel, where, yes, you could discern the outline of his dick. You pressed your thighs together. “Just… Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” you said, turning, trying to hold every lewd encounter you two had shared in the past six months firmly down. Because, uh, you weren’t sure, you realized as you slipped on your shoes and strode to the exit.

“I didn’t think so, either,” you heard Kylo say as the doors slid shut behind you.

⋆⋆⋆

End note: I hope you liked this! Let me know what y’all think. When I read this fic over again, I realized it reminds me of “Heartless” by the Weeknd — which is high-key a Kylo anthem and a song I def included in my Kylo x Reader playlist. I’d love it you checked it out!

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren smut #star wars #star wars fan fiction #star wars smut #adam driver #adam driver fan fiction

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krisseycrystal · 4 years

Photo

rated: t

fandom: Steven Universe

prompt: “Drunken Shenanigans” + BisPearl

requested by: Anon

SO UH a while ago a super sweet anon here on Tumblr req’d BisPearl + “Drunken Shenanigans” and the idea is GALAXY BRAIN let’s be real i just had to uh...take lots of creative liberties with ancient gem tech to fabricate a reason/way/method gems could become any semblance of “drunk”

then this 5k monster was born because i also felt like indiana jones-ing it and having a LOT of silly shenanigans

i haven’t written this long of a oneshot in a long while but it was FUN and i hope somewhere, out there, that anon that requested this enjoys it! if anyone else wants to req anything, i have about 3 fluff bingo prompts left so have at it

- o - o - o -

Open Again, My Home [Read on AO3]

- o - o - o -

Here’s the thing about exploring ancient gem ruins to assist an “infected” outpost gem colony on the fringes of gem-controlled space dealing with a problem caused by long-forgotten and time-corroded gem technology: if something in this abandoned temple is a potential threat to gemkind, then it is doubly threatening to humankind.

There are only two things keeping Pearl from completely freaking out: one, that Garnet has silently sworn that she won’t let go of Steven’s hand, and two, that Bismuth and Peridot--the only other two Crystal Gems who might know something about what they’re walking into--are with them.

“Whoa-ho-ho!”

Steven’s laughter is infectious: bright and booming. It bounces up and down the crumbling stone walls, and it would be comforting; it would be wonderful to hear; it would probably make her smile, if it didn’t remind Pearl every five minutes that he is here when he probably (no, definitely) should not be.

Steven’s gloved hands run over a long banner of ancient gem glyphs carved into the stone. A thin cord of light runs along the border, where a red dot zips down its surface. It lights up the transparent bubble of Steven’s helmet and illuminates the stars in his eyes.

“This is so cool…!” he enthuses. The quiet crackle of his suit’s radio underplays the projection of his voice, but does nothing to hide his wonder.

Bismuth scoffs and turns back to look at him. “You’re kidding me, right? That little emergency light-show’s nuthin’.”

“It looks cool.”

Bismuth opens her mouth to answer, but Pearl elbows her and sends her a Look that dries up her words in the middle of her throat. Bismuth holds up her hands. She turns around. “Just sayin’. I can make cooler.”

“Really?!”

“Bismuth, we don’t have time to humor him,” Pearl sighs. The light from her gem swings right and left, carefully analyzing every tile before they step on it. “The longer we’re here, the longer we risk exposure to whatever it is that’s affecting the colony.”

“Not a colony.”

“Outpost.” Pearl’s face squeezes tight. “Right.”

Bismuth watches her. They come to a stop, standing at the forefront of their traveling group. Peridot nearly runs into Bismuth, her eyes glued to the tablet she’s never without. Bismuth puts her hand on Peridot’s head and turns her to the left a few degrees. “You don’t have to be so stressed, Pearl. We’re gonna be fine. Tiny herself said this thing isn’t airborne.”

“It scientifically can’t be,” Peridot agrees, deftly stepping around Bismuth’s legs. “Our light-composed forms would be completely immune to it if it was.”

The hall ends in a T. A perpendicular, second hall stretches right and left. Peridot frowns and looks back down at her glowing screen. She swipes madly with her finger. Amethyst frowns, the epitome of boredom, as she peers over Peridot’s shoulder.

Pearl frowns and wraps her arms around herself. “Yes, I know that.”

“As far as I have been able to surmise, the virus is spread through direct contact with one’s gem.”

“Yes, I know, Peridot.”

“Besides, it’s not fatal to gems. It just makes us act strange.”

“I know.”

“Then relax?” Bismuth suggests. She looks Pearl’s rigid form up and down; there’s nothing but tension in her now. “We’re careful. We’re pro’s at fixing things for gem ex-colonies by this point. Besides, we ain’t gonna touch anything in here, Pearl. Peridot and her robonoids have got this covered.”

“I know. I know.” Pearl sighs again. She holds her forehead in her hand. “I just--”

“--ah-ha!” Peridot cheers and with a dramatic pose, directs the group left. “The central maintenance hub should be this way!”

“Woo-hoo!” Steven cheers with both fists in the air.

Bismuth looks to Pearl again. Pearl gives her a small, pained smile, turning away. Amethyst squeezes beyond them to follow on Peridot’s heels with a quiet, faux-accented, “Excuse me.” Steven giggles behind them after Garnet quietly murmurs something.

Bismuth follows Pearl down the darkened corridor.

- o - o - o -

“Interesting…”

“Whatcha got, Peri?”

“The cave-in above those towers.” Peridot taps her screen and zooms in on the data her robonoids are rapidly inputting. The tiny green orbs crawl all over the corroded remains of the temple’s central mainframe. “This planet’s strange merqua must’ve corroded away the temple stone, causing the ceiling to collapse over a couple hundred years ago.”

“Oh?” Amethyst pushes back the lock of her hair that wants to slip in front of her face. “Is, uh, that important to figuring out how to stop this virus?”

Peridot hums, tapping her finger against her chin. “Perhaps not. Unless determining how the virus came to be is our key to creating a cure.”

Pearl tries maybe too hard not to appear like she’s listening in. She stands like a sentry next to Garnet as Garnet sits cross-legged on the floor, both lap and arms full of a slumbering, space-suited and self-proclaimed moon boy.

When Peridot begins pacing again, stepping away and continually reading her screen, murmuring nonsense under her breath, Amethyst groans. She flips her long, white mane over her face and drags her feet towards the others. “Ugh! This is so boring. I wish we had something to fight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Garnet murmurs.

Amethyst flops onto her face at Garnet’s knee. Her hair cushions her fall.

Pearl smiles. Her hand curls over her mouth. When she looks to the mainframe again, she sees Bismuth looking at the cave-in. Her broad hands sit on her hips; her mouth is twisted in a way that does nothing to disquiet the anxiety rolling in Pearl’s gut. She puts a hand on the back of Steven’s helmet and then walks over.

“What is it, Bismuth?”

Bismuth glances down at Pearl. “Aw, geez, Pearl. Promise me you’re not gonna flip?”

Pearl’s hands fist in front of her stomach. “Uh. If you tell me what that’s supposed to mean, I’ll think about it.”

Bismuth holds up a finger aimed at the ceiling cave-in. “That merqua is corrosive stuff, right? It ate right through the stone infrastructure of this temple. Course, it took time for that stone to break down, but that stuff’s been sitting here for how long? Centuries?”

“That’s what Peridot said.”

“It’s probably still eating away at this place,” Bismuth mumbles. “No wonder the tech’s all on the fritz. I ain’t ever seen anything like that merqua.”

Pearl lets out a deep and long exhale.

Bismuth turns to her and offers a smile. “Hey, though. Nice job.”

“On what?”

“Not flipping out.”

Pearl’s laugh is too forceful to be genuine. She waves a hand. “Oh, Bismuth, I believe somehow I’ve fooled you if you think this is any semblance of not freaking out.”

“You never did answer me. What’s got you worked up?”

“I--” Pearl stops and looks behind her, to Garnet and the boy curled into her shoulder.

Bismuth nods before Pearl has to say another word. “Steven.”

“Steven,” Pearl sighs. “Look, I realize he’s in that suit and Peridot has assured me over and over again it should protect him, but if it rips and he somehow comes into contact with that merqua, or his gem gets in contact with this virus…”

“If any of us come in contact with that merqua, really.” Bismuth’s face tightens. She scratches the back of her head. “I mean, you did hear me, right? That stuff’s corrosive. That…native liquid to this planet is literally eating through rock and it can malfunction our technology. That’s not something I want anywhere near any of us, human or gem or hybrid.”

“I know, but--”

“--Pearl, maybe for once you should stop bein’ so concerned about someone else, and spare some of that concern for yourself, too.”

Pearl blinks at Bismuth. She opens her mouth as if to say something, stops, and then asks instead, “What, do you think I’m not concerned about my own--”

A shudder runs through the stone of the room as, instantaneously, a loud crack booms loud as thunder.

Steven jerks awake, pulling himself up out of Garnet’s lap. “W-what was that?”

Garnet and Amethyst are on their feet half a second after him.

“Peridot.” Garnet’s voice is low in both warning and question.

Peridot steps back from the towers and monitors. Her fingers hover over her tablet screen, but her eyes roam side-to-side, up-and-down across the chamber. Her gaze lands on the merqua, still steadily dripping down through the broken cracks.

“Uh. I think that was the temple,” Peridot mumbles. “That wasn’t the mainframe.”

Another shudder and a part of the floor drops from under their feet.

It slants at a lopsided angle, the room jaggedly cracked two-thirds of the way across its expanse.

Caught in surprise, Bismuth nearly slips and falls. Pearl grabs her arm to keep her upright. Peridot crashes to the floor with a yelp and a skid until she sticks her heels into the crumbling stonework. Several dark towers, now on uneven ground, crash into one another like dominos. Robonoids squawk as they fall. Sparks sputter and fly, a mini-fireworks show in the dark.

“Are you guys okay?!” Amethyst shouts. She stands square-shouldered in front of Garnet and Steven, on the slender portion of the room that didn’t lurch and tilt out of balance.

Bismuth dusts herself off. “Fine!”

With careful steps, she inches down the floor’s new incline to reach Peridot. Peridot’s eyes are fixed on the gap between the central maintenance hub’s floor and the ceiling of the cavernous room beneath them.

“W-we should get out of here,” Pearl says. “This isn’t safe. Peridot, you have enough data, right?”

Bismuth helps Peridot to her feet and then slowly, up to the other side of the room’s higher floor. Steven and Garnet hurry to extend their hands over the edge’s lip.

Peridot nods, but it’s shaky. “Y-yeah. Wow. That was…something.”

“Yeah,” Bismuth laughs. As soon as Peridot’s on higher, more stable ground, she turns back for Pearl with a breathless smile: more nervous chuckles than anything else. “You can say that again. Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen a--”

The floor drops.

With a great, thundering crack that rips asunder their stability, Pearl and Bismuth fall into open air.

Steven’s scream follows them down--

down--

“Pearl! Bismuth!”

It happens too fast.

Spinning and flapping her arms, Bismuth turns to find Pearl. She reaches out for the speck of white, glimmering teal, and darker blue that she thinks she can see in the middle of the falling temple stone and chunks of floor. Metal crashes behind them, groaning and sparking as it slams into the wall in a free, wild tumble just like them.

And then Bismuth hits the ground.

Earth craters under her. Chunks of floor pierce the ground on either side of her, falling in a dusty upwind. Bismuth coughs and ties to push herself up in the midst of the crashing debris, lifting her head to see if she can find Pearl.

She isn’t sure what it is that makes herself poof: a fallen tower or a piece of what was once the floor--but she knows the instant it happens.

Because all she can think is: shit.

- o - o - o -

Reforming is a surprising challenge and Bismuth doesn’t know how or why or what the heck is keeping her from taking shape until she physically forces the problem away for space to be. Once the glow of her form solidifies, she lands heavily on her knees. A ragged gasp later and Bismuth places a hand on the boulder that had been pinning her down (potentially the one that poofed her?) and pushes herself up to a stand.

“Overalls,” she murmurs. “Nice. I can dig it.”

A glance up and at the pile of broken floor surrounding her brings a grimace to her face. “Literally, I guess.”

After climbing out from under the fallen debris, it takes only a few moments to find Pearl. It takes Bismuth another second to recognize that something must be wrong. Pearl’s curled onto her side, fallen on top of broken and crumpled mainframe towers. She doesn’t seem to be injured. So why isn’t she getting up?

The word cracked doesn’t even finish crossing her mind by the time Bismuth’s already started wobbly descending the rubble, arms outstretched. “Pearl! Answer me, Pearl! Are you okay?”

She doesn’t stir.

Bismuth crashes to her knees beside her and rolls Pearl onto her back. “Pearl! Talk to me!”

And finally, Pearl…laughs?

It’s a laugh Bismuth has never heard, in all the thousands of years she’s known Pearl: high and dreamy, like she’s breathing through clouds and having a great time of it.

“Uh, Pearl?”

“Oh, Bismuth!” And it’s not like Pearl’s voice is particularly different. Maybe there’s a slight slur to her speech and strange saunter to the way she talks, but it shouldn’t be as alarming to Bismuth as it is. Probably. “There…you are. I was worried about you.”

“Uh, yeah. Back atcha.”

Pearl hums and lifts a hand. At first, Bismuth thinks it’s coming for her face but then Pearl tosses her hand back above her head and it lands with an awkward thud on the corner of the tower she’s stretched out on. Pearl giggles. Her shoulders shake, chest lifting up with the motion. She closes her eyes and her head sags towards Bismuth’s knee.

There’s a strange, goopy liquid trailing across her gem, dripping down her right temple and to the metal. Or maybe it came from the exposed innards of the tower?

Oh.

“Aw, gee…” Bismuth swears a colorful storm under her breath. “Pearl, why?”

“Why what?” Pearl blinks slowly.

“Why’d ya have to go and land on the virus?”

“Well, ‘snot my fault. It’s not even on my list.”

Bismuth…tries to follow that line of thought. “Come again?”

“List! My list!” Pearl tosses her hand up again and it falls against Bismuth’s shoulder. Bismuth sighs and gets her hands under Pearl’s shoulder to lift her to her feet as she adds, “You know, the one Amethyst helped me get set up. She’s quite capable, you know. She knows so much more than I do. You know Steven’s been thinking about making a Little Homeworld?”

“Uh-huh.”

Bismuth gets them both standing by the time that she can hear a familiar voice shouting above their heads. She lifts her head to watch a familiar, gleaming pink bubble slowly waft down to them.

“Bismuth! Pearl!” Steven shouts, his voice strange and distant through his suit and bubble. The pink pops away as soon as he lands. “Are you guys all right? You sure fell a long way!”

“Steven, what the heck are you doin’ down here? Don’t tell me Garnet actually let you--no, nuh-uh. Don’t touch her; she’s infected.”

“But I’ve got a suit on! I can help! It’s not like I have a tear in this thing yet; I’ve been super careful and--” Steven brings up his hands to the level of his chest the instant Pearl rolls her head up to see him.

The smile stretching her face is far too wide and bright.

“Steven! You’re okay!” Pearl crows.

“Y-yeah. Uh. Hey, Pearl.”

Pearl takes a step away from Bismuth and wobbles. Immediately, Steven’s gloved hands latch around hers. Her slender knees shake under her as she bends over, elbows bow-legged outward. A giggle runs through her. “Oh, dear. This is a strange feeling.”

“What is?”

“Bops on your head.” Pearl says it so simply, so easily, like it should make sense. When Steven doesn’t answer, she continues, loosely waving a hand. “You know, that apple-falling thing. There were those fig snacks you always enjoyed when you were younger, but only the strawberry ones. Could never get you to eat blueberry until you were seven…”

Steven looks at Bismuth. Bismuth shrugs. “You remember how the other infected gems were acting in the colony?”

“Yeah. Like they were drunk.”

Bismuth makes a strained, odd face. She gestures to Pearl with both hands as Pearl straightens up to frown down at Steven.

“Steven. How do you know how to identify drunken behavior?”

“Uh, well, you see, during our jam sessions, Jenny, Buck, Sour Cream, and Sadie sometimes--”

Bismuth steps in front of him, taking Pearl’s hands and pulling her away. Pearl stumbles into Bismuth’s chest and Bismuth takes extra care to make sure her head is turned away from her gem. “Okay! That’s enough. Let’s just focus on getting us all out of here and rejoining the others. The sooner we do, the sooner we can figure out how to get rid of this virus. Okay? Okay.”

Steven’s booted footfalls behind her are rapid, twice as many for every single stride of Bismuth’s. “Oh! Wait! I know how to get out of here!”

Bismuth stops.

Pearl whips around to look at him. She smiles, nods, then turns to look at Bismuth, smug. “See? ‘Smy smart boy.”

Bismuth doesn’t know what to say to that. She looks over her shoulder to Steven instead. “You do?”

“Yeah! You think I would drop down here after you two without a plan?” he stops, seems to think better of his words, and immediately waves his hands. “Wait, don’t answer that. The others are making their way out of the temple, too. Peridot said she might have enough information to begin working on a cure. Besides, whatever other information she could have gotten is lost, now. So Garnet gave me a future vision kiss and we parted ways and now I know the way out of the temple!”

“Oh.” Bismuth blinks down at Steven.

Pearl grins and pokes Bismuth’s cheek. “You’re impressed.”

“What?”

“Say it. Tell ‘im you’re impressed.”

“What?” Bismuth repeats because her brain feels too full of doe-eyed stupid with Pearl so close to her front that she can’t think of anything else to say. She shakes her head. “Course I’m impressed. This is Steven we’re talkin’ about, here. I’m always impressed with ‘im.”

“Aw, Bismuth!”

Bismuth smiles at the stars in Steven’s eyes and the warm flush in his cheeks. She shakes her head and wants to laugh out loud. Instead, she puts a hand on the back of Steven’s round, transparent helmet and ushers him ahead. “Yeah, yeah. All right. C’mon, then,” she says. “Lead the way, lil man.”

“You got it!”

- o - o - o -

“Oh my gosh. This is hilarious.”

“I know, right?”

“What’s funny?” Pearl looks back at the two pairs of expectant eyes gazing up at her. She smiles and waves back at them, wriggling all the fingers on her right hand.

Amethyst loses it. She clutches at her stomach and rolls onto her back, legs kicking into the air.

Steven laughs, too, but more so at how hard Amethyst is laughing than Pearl’s behavior itself. He grins and looks up at Pearl, who seems pleased at being the object of their humor, grinning airily at them both.

“I mean, it’s kind of funny that I’ve never seen you this relaxed before, Pearl,” Steven hums, propping an elbow up on the couch cushion.

Peal has never slouched for as long as he’s known her. Now, her form is a lazy curve against the back of the couch with her thin legs kicked out before her. She folds her hands over her stomach, the absolute image of comfort. “You haven’t? Huh. Steven, you haven’t seen me like this before.”

“That’s what he just said, man.” Amethyst picks herself up the instant the front screen door of the beach house swings open and Bismuth strides in.

Like a switch has been flipped, Pearl’s face lights up. “Bismuth!”

“H-hey, Pearl. Again.” Bismuth chuckles and doesn’t know what to make of the quick glance Steven and Amethyst throw each other from opposite sides of Pearl. She clears her throat. “How’s she doin’?”

“‘Bout the same,” Steven answers honestly and Pearl makes a move as if to stand.

“Bismuth!” Pearl sings again. Her calf hits the corner of the coffee table and immediately, Amethyst and Steven are on their feet to grab either one of her arms. Pearl wobbles, before righting herself and giggling. “Oh, haha! Stars! Thank you. That would have been an embarr-arra-assing spill.”

Amethyst’s laugh starts in the back of her throat with a shocked, choking sound. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Bismuth sighs and steps forward to take Pearl’s hand from Steven before Pearl can repeat herself. The corner of her mouth curls up in a humored smile aimed at Amethyst. “Stop it. She can’t help it; you know Pearl would be mortified.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why it’s hilarious.”

Bismuth rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Anyway, Peridot sent me. She thinks she has an idea she wants to try. Steven, think could we borrow that bottle of Blue’s?”

“Of course!” Before Steven finishes talking, he’s bounding towards the bathroom.

Amethyst has to stifle another laugh behind her hand. “Pearl, what are you doing?”

Bismuth hadn’t even noticed Pearl’s index fingers poking into either side of her bicep as her glassy eyes are fixed on the way the steel-blue tone of Bismuth’s hue bends and warps under the pressure of her touch. Over and over again. Quickly, Pearl withdraws her hands, throwing them behind her own body with such force she nearly topples over. She giggles, her face ice blue, when Bismuth--again--catches her. “N-nothing! Sorry.”

Steven returns with the bottle outstretched. His eyes rake back and forth between Bismuth and Pearl. “Want me to come with?”

“Oh! Oh!” Pearl bounces on the back of her heels and raises her hand up from Bismuth’s hold to her face. “Yes! Me too; me too! Count me in, Bismuth! Wherever you go, I’ll follow! I’m very good at that.”

“Yeah,” Bismuth slowly and awkwardly laughs. “Sure. Why not. We’ll make it a party.” She looks to Amethyst and raises a brow. “You comin’ too?”

“You know it! I ain’t missin’ this!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought…” Bismuth ruefully grins at the same time Pearl cheers.

- o - o - o -

Peridot’s string of machines and salvaged parts of the outpost temple’s mainframe towers make a curious amphitheatre in the sand. Lapis watches idly, with her arms crossed over her chest, as Peridot runs back and forth between screens and data, huffing and hawing.

“Ugh!” Peridot cries, throwing her hands in the air. “This would be so much better if I had any actual equipment!”

“Well,” Bismuth chimes, holding Pearl up so that she doesn’t sag onto the sand, “Pearl mentioned something about a Little Homeworld I think. Maybe that’ll help you get some, uh, whatever it is you’re wantin’, exactly.”

“Hm? Bismuth, what did I say?”

Amethyst snickers. Lapis Lazuli snorts, turning away.

Peridot spins around to them. “You’re back! Oh, good, good, good, good, good!” With outstretched hands, she makes grabbing motions towards the bottle Steven holds. To Steven’s surprise, she latches on to his arm instead, dragging him over to the biggest screen on display. “Okay, so I have a couple working theories and we’ll probably need to test all of them on Pearl…”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that!” Pearl chimes in. Then, she leans into Bismuth conspiratorially, “That’s what humans call a pair of people who go on dates.”

Bismuth feels her face burst into heat at the same time as laughter busts out of her. “I’m sorry?”

Lapis’ shoulders are shaking as Pearl continues, “You know what I’m talking about, Bismuth, right?”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Couples! A one plus another one! One plus two plus one plus one plus--”

“--how was I supposed to know a human thing like that?”

“Don’t you want to be one?”

Bismuth doesn’t know what to say to that. She thinks she lost track of what it was Pearl was talking about. Or some part of her sorely wishes she did, anyway. “Uh. Pearl, you doin’ okay? Maybe we should sit down…”

“Perfect!” Peridot, fortunately, saves her. “Sit her down on this chair, Bismuth. We’re going to try a few different methods to see if we can combat this virus!”

Bismuth breathes a sigh of relief and pulls Pearl along to the plastic-white lawn chair that looks far too dirty and dusty to be sanitary. Pearl would throw a fit about being expected to sit in it if she were in her right head; thankfully, this Pearl lets Bismuth push her down against its flower-embossed backing without a fight.

Steven raises an eyebrow. “Uh, Peridot? That looks like something out of my dad’s old storage unit.”

“It probably is. I borrowed it from the car wash.”

“Huh.”

Peridot rubs her chin, looking at her glowing screens one final time. Finally, she sighs. “All right. I guess we’ll have to try Steven first.”

“Huh?”

Peridot pushes a quarter-full box of latex gloves into Steven’s chest. “Here. Apply one and lick your hand, please.”

“Didn’t we try this at the outpost?”

“Yes, well, we’re trying it again!” Peridot throws her hands into the air. “Pearl, you’re going to have to look at us.”

Perhaps for the first time in her entire life, Pearl whines. “But then I wouldn’t get to see Bismuth.”

“Oh, what a travesty.” Amethyst sighs dramatically and puts the back of her hand against her forehead. Lapis, now standing at her side, clutches at her stomach, pressing her lips together hard to keep from laughing.

Bismuth rolls her eyes, but with a good-natured grin, she steps around the old chair. “There. Now you can see me, right?”

“Better.” And Pearl extends her hand.

Bismuth can feel everyone else’s eyes on her. Her face blooms with heat. She turns around to the circle of an audience she has, all watching her and Pearl very, very closely. “All right! That’s enough, you guys! Knock it off! We’re just friends,” she shouts as she takes Pearl’s slender hand in her own and squeezes it.

“Oh!” Lapis laughs loudly. “Sure! Because that’s what this is!”

“Just ‘friends.’” Amethyst curls her fingers into air-quotes and bends over, laughing.

“Hey, Amethyst,” Lapis says through chuckles and chortles, extending her dangling hand. “Since we’re…just friends…how about you hold my hand while I get treated for a virus?”

“Why, Lapis,” Amethyst answers, bowing over Lapis’ hand, “since we’re such good friends, I’d be honored to!”

“Oh, Amethyst! Our friendship is just so integral to my feeling of safety and comfort!”

Bismuth tries not to laugh, pushing a hand against her own face.

Steven snickers and tries to stuff his laugh behind his own spit-slobbered hand, until Peridot grabs his wrist and pulls it away. She brings him to Pearl’s front and nods. Steven nods back, mouth pulled into a serious line, then slaps his palm over Pearl’s gem on her brow.

Pearl blinks.

A shiver passes through her.

She giggles. “Wow…it’s been a while since you’ve needed to do that, Steven.”

Peridot squints at her. Bismuth chuckles and moves as if to pull her hand away. “So, uh, okay. How’re you feelin’ now, Pearl?”

Pearl gasps softly. “Certainly not good enough for you to leave me, Bismuth!” And the frown on her face is enough to make Peridot groan and for Bismuth to take her hand back with a quiet, “All right, all right, I’m sorry; I’m here,” that has Lapis and Amethyst snickering all over again behind her.

“It didn’t work!” Peridot huffs. When Steven opens his mouth, she holds up a hand. “Never mind. I know it didn’t work when we were at the gem outpost, either. It was worth a second try. Give me Blue’s Diamond’s bottle.”

Blue Diamond’s essence doesn’t work, either.

Peridot’s a grumbling mess. She pulls Steven and his still-gloved hand aside as Pearl looks up to Bismuth with wide eyes. “Bismuth, is there something wrong with me?”

“What?”

Pearl’s eyes begin to shine with tears, two gleaming, wet pools of baby blue. “The lacrimal essence. It should heal; why aren’t I better? One impossible right after another. Gems can’t get sick! Am I dreaming?”

“Uh…” Bismuth looks behind her to Lapis and Amethyst, but they aren’t even watching anymore. Instead, they are focused on dramatically recreating the scene between Bismuth and Pearl to their own knee-slapping hilarity.

Bismuth sighs and shrugs. “I mean, I guess you’re--”

“--what happens if I wake up?”

“Uh…”

Bismuth moves aside as Peridot comes forward with Steven’s hand again. In the center of his round palm, cushioned against the cool cyan of the disposable latex, is a swirling mix of glowing blue and neon pink.

Bismuth has never seen anything like it.

It’s...remarkably pretty, actually.

Bismuth looks to Pearl and puts on her best, most encouraging smile. “Well, you’ll see me and I’ll be there to tell ya it’s not the end of the world. How’s that?”

Pearl blinks and that’s when Steven slaps his hand against her gem.

There’s a burst of sparkling light.

- o - o - o -

“Ugh, I’m mortified.”

“I knew you would be.”

“How could you let me say those things, Bismuth?”

“I had no idea what was gonna come out of your mouth!” Bismuth laughs and the entire stairway leading up to the beach house shakes with it. “None of us did! It was kinda wild, actually. Amethyst and Lapis got a big kick out of it. Steven, too, I think. Garnet was holding down the fort at the outpost, so she wasn’t there for some of it.”

Pearl groans and shoves her head in her hands. The setting sun casting Beach City in its warm, peach-pink hues should be calming, soothing. Instead, her gut is tying itself in ribbons over her own hazy memories. “They’re never going to let me live this down.”

“Probably not.”

“I’m so embarrassed…”

“Aw, hey,” Bismuth puts a hand on Pearl’s back. “I don’t know if you remember what I told you before Steven and Peridot fixed you, but…this ain’t the end of the world, Pearl. Amethyst, Lapis--we all understand that. It’s why everyone else is givin’ you your space as they fix-up the other infected gems at the outpost.”

When Pearl doesn’t answer and instead, only groans more, Bismuth laughs and wraps her arm around Pearl’s shoulders to bring her against her chest. “C’mere.”

“Bismuth…”

“Yeah, Pearl?”

“How are you not embarrassed?” Pearl pulls away from Bismuth’s arms, slipping down to the step below to frown up at her. “I did so many things that unthinkingly put you in such…awkward situations the entire time. How are you not embarrassed to be by me, right now? How can you look at me?”

Bismuth chuckles. She props her elbow up on her knee and sets her cheek against her loose fist, gazing down at Pearl. “I dunno. I thought it was cute.”

“C--” Pearl’s face flushes with ice. “--Bismuth!” she hisses. “We’re not in one of those anime Steven likes to watch! Cut that out!”

Bismuth laughs again, but it’s soft and fond. “No, not that kinda cute. I thought it was good. It was interesting seeing that side of you, the side of you that wasn’t afraid to ask for me to be there or for physical affirmations. The side that wasn’t afraid to put yourself and what you wanted first for once. Y’know?”

“Oh.”

“I liked it.” Bismuth shrugs a shoulder.

“You did?”

Bismuth chuckles. “Yeah. I like you, Pearl. Every side of you there is.”

Slowly, Pearl smiles. After a moment, she tentatively leans against Bismuth’s knee, eyes on her face as if checking every second, every motion, every contact, was okay. But when Bismuth makes no move to stop her, she lets her cheek bunch up against the surface of Bismuth’s thigh.

The steel-blue tone of Bismuth’s hue bends and warps under the pressure of her touch.

“I like you, too, Bismuth.”

It is as soft and gentle as a thank you.

#steven universe #bismuth #pearl #bispearl #peridot #amethyst #garnet #everyone's here #su #fanfic #krissey writes a thing #drunken shenanigans #minus the alcohol #i invented a virus explanation for drunken behavior #it's all the shenanigans #with zero the liquor #enjoy

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