#ship over current relay

[apopic]

Ship Current Monitoring Relay (over/ under current monitoring relay on ship electrical system)

Ship overcurrent relays are used to protect sensitive equipment against over or under current conditions. By using current transformers (CTs), these protective relays monitor large AC currents common to large motor starters, circuit breakers, and transformers. Ship current transformers CT which steps down the monitored current to a secondary (output) range of 0 to 5 amps (AC) to power the…

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Quarantine Breach

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The first the wider universe heard of the plague on Hydraxsis was when traders began returning to their home systems with tales of a massive human fleet hanging in orbit above the world denying all access to the planet’s surface. Transmissions declaring a state of emergency were relayed from the human flagship and stated that the situation was well under control but for the safety of the wider star community no one was allowed to land.

Naturally concerned with this and seeking to offer aid, many civilizations dispatched medical teams and diplomats to open dialogues for relief aid to begin flowing into the system. Yet once again all they were met with were the same transmissions from the flagship that a state of emergency had been declared and travel down to the surface was strictly forbidden.

The stonewalling tactics did not sit well with several of the diplomats, nor did the numerous jamming devices the humans had deployed in orbit above the world to block any communications to and from the surface as well.

When it became known that non-humans had also been trapped on the surface below by grieving families, the governments insisted that the humans open communications and allow relief efforts to be dispatched to the planet.

There was no reply save for the same transmission played again but this time emphasizing the final part with enlarged letters.

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO REACH THE SURFACE; THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.

Further enraged and now knowing that several of their own citizens were trapped on the beleaguered world alien fleets began appearing to force their passage through the blockade.

They knew humans were stubborn; it was a core aspect of their primal nature that not even evolution could weed out. Yet it boggled the minds of the aliens why the humans would risk an open conflict over one world.

It wasn’t until a Syndicate Hellbrute Dreadnought, leased to one of the grieving species for a considerable sum, appeared alongside the waiting alien armada did they feel ready to force the blockade.

The two fleets poised against each other as countless weapon bay doors rolled open to reveal their lethal contents. Countless targeting vectors were plotted while missile batteries prepared to unleash a torrent of finite death and destruction when suddenly the human fleet turned.

A lone transport shuttle came racing up from the surface.

Without a moment’s hesitation the entire human fleet opened fired on the tiny transport; completely ignoring the alien warships before them who in turned retaliated against the humans.

Terran frigates crumpled like wads of paper under concentrated fire and carriers were gutted from the inside as torment warheads detonated inside their ships through open launch bays, yet the human fleet gave no return fire to the aliens.

The tiny craft darted like a humming bird through the blizzard of weapons fire directed at it by the humans. Too small for the larger weapons to hit the craft wove its way through the terran fleet as it desperately made for the alien armada.

It had almost made it to the Hellbrute leading the alien fleet when a terran cruiser broke formation and rammed the tiny craft. Unable to avoid the massive size of the ship the transport slammed into the side of the cruiser and detonated in a fireball of destruction.

While the aliens pondered why the terran’s would so recklessly risk one of their larger ships in such a manner they were only further surprised why the same cruiser that had rammed the transport ship then detonated their own jump drives causing a small super nova to erupt between the two fleets.

A blinding shockwave of energy shot out and sent both fleets reeling in opposite directions. Colossal vessels were reduced to nothing more than logs in a rapid current as they battered against each other before finally coming to a stop several thousand kilometers away from where they had started.

The aliens began to reorganize their fleets for another battle but the humans merely returned to their blockade of the world. Only the flagship of the terran fleet remained and opened a direct communication with every alien vessel.

No words were spoken by the terran commander as he opened up a video file and played it. A grainy feed appeared to be from a street camera of some kind of a bustling city. Many assumed that it was from Hydraxsis and noted that it was dated several weeks prior when the blockade first was implemented.

The streets were full of bustling humans and aliens of every kind carrying on their day to day business when one human began convulsing rapidly while crossing the street.

Collapsing to the ground they spasmed so hard that fragments of bone could be seen breaking the skin. Worried onlookers either began backing away from the human or approaching them to try and assist them when the true horror began.

Emerging from the convulsing humans flesh came a thick swarm of tiny red insects. They moved like a stream of water and darted to those who had come forward to help the injured man. With barely enough time to let out a scream the swarm engulfed them in a red tide, dragging them to the ground as a general panic broke out.

Within moments more and more insects began pouring out of the new cadaverous tripling their numbers instantly and just as before began rushing those around them.

The feed then cut away to several days later of the same street as countless fires broke out amongst the buildings. The street was littered with battered and broken aircars while the roads themselves were paved with uncountable bones of victims.

A lone figure came sprinting down the street looking back the way they had come screaming. They made it three steps before tripping over what had been a human femur and falling to the ground as a swarm of insects filling the entire street side to side came down upon them like an onrushing river. The camera was ripped from its mounting by the sheer mass of the swarm and the feed went dead.

The commander ended the feed and addressed the gathered armada. Analyzing the tiny red insects their name was “Ambrogidus Flaxmaxus”, or more commonly called “Red Death”.

A highly invasive species that burrows into living hosts laying thousands of eggs that can hatch within ten seconds to thirty years depending on as of yet to be determined conditions. Once hatched, the larva will eat the surrounding flesh before digging their way out in search of a new host and repeating the entire process with a new host.

Because of the unpredictable nature of the hatching process victims can sometimes carry larva eggs for years without ever knowing. This has made quarantining worlds or victims all but impossible as the eggs blend in with the host’s flesh making them almost impossible to detect by scanners. Even the vacuum of space could not deter the insects as their shells were dense enough to resist the void while the insects themselves hibernated. This reason alone was why the terran cruiser detonated itself the moment it touched an infected shuttle. It was the only way to be sure nothing survived.

The humans admitted that they had been trying to spare the rest of the universe from this plague to contain potential chaos that could be unleashed. Several worlds ranging from small colonies to distant outposts had already fallen to the insect and there had been no designated counter agent for terminating the insects in sufficient numbers.

With a heavy heart the human stated that the “relief” fleet enroute was not coming to help the inhabitants below. It was a scientific fleet with the sole purpose of using the world as a testing ground on new chemical agents and weapons to try and kill the insects.

Even if there had been survivors below the humans had made it very clear.

No one was leaving that planet alive.

[fanaticsnail]

You Kissed the Clown? Part 10

Hello everyone! Part 10 is complete (Part 9 is back here!).

After reuniting our couple, I wanted to flesh out a bit more of a chapter to introduce an outsider perspective to the situation unraveling. This chapter is from Sanji's perspective!

I am already working on Chapter 11 to hopefully bring a bit more understanding to the depth of the unravelling relationship as it reveals itself.

Word Count: 2,364

Bewilderment is a place Sanji felt himself be held within, not entirely processing the scene that lay before him at the suspended kitchen dining table.

After Zoro appeared to reluctantly bring himself above deck with no sentient decapitated head in tow, Sanji was curious; more curious still at the reason the First-Mate left the head behind close to the vicinity of the tinkerer.

“Where’s our beautiful and radiant flower?” Sanji asked, referring to the aforementioned tinkerer with a taunting smirk in his addressal of the swordsman.

Zoro chose not to reply to Sanji’s question, choosing instead to ignore him as he made his way to Luffy and lean against the wooden railing. The Captain of the Going Merry was sitting with a wooden fishing pole clasped tightly between his fists, a slightly vacant and far away in thought.

“We have a situation,” the swordsman uttered monotonously while staring at the open sea.

Luffy shook his head to break himself away from his thoughts and brought his gaze to the swordsman beside him.

“Yeah,” he nodded in agreement, “and we’re on our way to get my navigator back right now.”

Zoro breathed a large breath through his nose at Luffy’s naivety, hanging his head as he continued to lean against the polished wooden frame of the ship.

“I’m not talking about Nami,” he relayed to his Captain, “I’m talking about our tinkerer.”

“What’s wrong with my boatswain?” Luffy asked, furrowing his brows in deep thought, “she’s amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better negotiator, truly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Zoro said in a low, slightly agitated tone.

Luffy placed the pole arm of the fishing rod against the wall of the ship, steadying it to maintain its current course of action.

“Then what?” Luffy’s brows knit together in confusion, an anxious smile brought to his lips.

Zoro sighed out a breath in an attempt to rid himself of his agitation, gripping his fists against the railing of the ship. As he steadied his breathing, he rose his head up and rolled his neck to rid it of any clicks found within.

“She’s,” Zoro halted the words in his throat, not sure how to proceed with his sentence.

Sanji narrowed his eyes in an attempt to spy the words quietly leaving Zoro’s lips as he said something inaudible to Luffy. The Captain’s eyes widened at the words leaving the mouth of the First-Mate. The chef attempted to lean his ear further in to fully comprehend the magnitude of the drama enfolding, but again; straining to hear nothing.

Sanji witnessed Luffy inhale a deep breath through his nose and tightly scrunch his eyes shut in thought before releasing his breath in a slow, drawn out way.

“And you are certain of this?” Luffy asked Zoro, his tone serious in nature.

“I’m more than certain,” Zoro reiterated, “she told me so, herself.”

The chef of the Going Merry witnessed the Captain again take in a slow, drawn out breath to calm himself, humming slightly in thought as he brought his hand up to his chin.

“Sanji!” Luffy yelled, prompting Sanji to jump a little at his sudden addressal.

”Yes captain?” Sanji replied, walking over to Luffy with his left hand in his pocket.

Luffy hardened his expression in deep thought before relaying to the chef: “I’m going to need some meat.”

Sanji blew a small snicker out of his nose, a smirk appearing over his features.

“Given up on fishing already?” Sanji jested with him.

“No,” Luffy shrugged his shoulders, “I just wanted to eat while I’m waiting to catch something else to eat.”

Sanji snickered at the comment, nodding at his receival of the command lay before him.

“I’ll get right on it,” he smiled while turning to make his way to the kitchen.

And this is where he found himself in a bewilderment.

A large, green gemstone lay beside the left elbow of the designated boatswain, or beautiful tinkerer; as Sanji referred to her. A small hessian sack of corn starch also had the retractable drawstring slacked to reveal the white powder within; a metal scoop lay discarded at the side of the table.

His pestle was currently lying beside his mortar as a mixture of mint-green powder lay within; Sanji deducing the gemstone being crushed beneath his pestle being the origin of the hue.

A small giggle escaped from between the lips of the tinkerer as she tapped against the cheek of the decapitated head with a rounded soft brush. A chuckle also left the lips of the unnerving clown-head as his features softened under the ministrations of the woman.

She turned to undo her tinkering bag, only to make eye contact with him in the process.

“Sanji,” she sighed with a broad, beaming smile, “just the man I needed.”

“I thought I was the only man you needed,” grunted the head on the table, pouting at the lips. She turned to the head and shook it as a small reprimand.

“You need to eat,” she said, her tone almost loving, “and this is our chef. Sanji, have you made the acquaintence of Captain Buggy yet?” She turned to face the chef once more, his face continuing to remained stunned at the scene he unwittingly found himself within.

After the silence hung in the air for a short while, again he heard you address him; prompting him to snap back into attention.

“Would you mind, dear?” she asked him, gesturing to the teal-coloured refrigerator unit within the kitchen; prompting Sanji to break from her gaze and look to the object.

“Would I mind-?” Sanji trailed his sentence off before looking into the kind eyes of the ship’s boatswain.

“He hasn’t eaten in almost a week,” she said with a small, saddened smile pulling at her lips. Sanji knit his brows together at the comment, withdrawing into himself and reminiscing what his own starvation felt like.

“I’ll, uh,” Sanji said, again looking between the clown head and the tinkerer, “get right on it.”

“Thank you, Sanji,” She nodded at him in appreciation before turning to claim more of the powder within the rounded brush.

Sanji continued to eavesdrop the conversation unfolding at the hanging table between the pirate captain’s head and the tinkerer as he brought out several slices of pork belly and short-grain rice. He washed the rice after he prepared the pork belly with several spices and salts; continuing to silence himself to understand the greater context of what was being brought forth.

“And where did you learn this little trick again, my love?” the clown head asked her, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed into her eyes with his mouth slightly agape.

Sanji halted his motions, processing the title the unnerving clown bestowed onto you.

“We had many beach days growing up,” he heard you relay while focussing on powdering the face of the clown in a swiping motion, “and my father favoured experimenting with mineral rocks. My mother drawn more so towards the things that shined.”

You giggled at your own comment, continuing the swiping motion against the cheeks and forehead of the clown.

“And considering you did not want to part with your war paint,” you again hummed in a teasing tone, “you gave me no choice but to make powder from my talc stone to rid its coarseness from your pretty face and not disturb your artistry.”

Sanji heard the clown head sigh, but choosing to keep his eyes fixed forward to make himself as non-disruptive as possible to hear the conversation engaged between them.

“You think I’m pretty?” the clown whispered. He heard you place down the tool, seeking out your movement from the corner of his eye and noticing your hand extended to rest at the left cheek of the enemy captain and caress him.

“I think you are beautiful,” you replied with sincerity.

Sanji snapped his gaze back to his cuisine creation, finishing braising the meat and ensuring the flesh be fully tenderised before crumbing it by coating it in bleached flour, dunking it in a spiced egg concoction before finishing the wet exterior with long flakes of dried, crustless bread.

“So this is the situation that Zoro was mentioning,” Sanji thought within his mind as he poured a large amount of oil into a pan, “she’s sweet on the clown-captain.”

You continued to dab the brush on the painted, oil-based substance and successfully ridding the course sand from its firm grasp on the clown. After one more swipe, Sanji heard you sigh in relief as an indication your task was completed.

“I’m just going to clean all of this up to make room for your dinner,” Sanji heard you relay to the clown. He hummed in reply; Sanji again finding himself bewildered at no taunts, no jabs and no expression of any other emotion from the foreign captain than utter contentment.

Sanji felt you close to him as you required the sink to wash your items. Sanji noticed your bandaged right hand and immediately made to take the items from within it.

“Leave it, love,” Sanji smiled before nodding at the bandage, “you don’t want to undo all of that hard work.”

You furrowed your brows and followed his gaze to the gauze on your palm and sighed. Your partially hardened and confused expression relented from its grip on your face as you smiled at him.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you nodded your head at him while continuing to pile up the variety of items and bring them to the sink. Sanji looked over to the powder within the mortar, watching you as you emptied it into a small box.

“Talc and corn starch?” Sanji asked with a quirk of his brow upwards.

“Talcum powder,” you nodded while tapping the side of your left hand at the mortar and relinquishing all of the powder from the container into the box, “used in beauty routines and household cleaning.”

You tilted your head to the side before presenting it up towards the chef and gesturing for him to inhale it. He drew a breath in, inhaling the powder and taking in its sweet aroma.

“I grew up using it to rid my feet of the dry sand that clung to them after swimming at the beach with my siblings,” you shrugged, placing a lid upon the container and fastening a piece of leather twine around it to secure it fully.

Sanji nodded, placing the crumbed pieces of pork into the hot oil on the stove, a sizzling sound reverberating throughout the kitchen. You turned to look at the sheer number of portions Sanji had prepared of the pork.

“Are we expecting more company?” you chuckled in question, nodding to the benchtop.

“No, just Luffy,” Sanji shrugged, pulling a melodical laugh from your lips in response. He found himself smiling at you as he noticed the smell wafting from the rice.

“His portion is ready,” Sanji said, nodding to the head on the felt table.

You turned to look at the clown head, who’s eyes were bound tightly shut and wincing slightly. You brought your brows together at the expression coming from his face before Sanji broke you from your thoughts.

“Would you like me to serve it so you can share it with him privately,” he offered, voice free of judgement or malicious intent, “Luffy, Usopp and Zoro will be here shortly.”

You inhaled a sharp breath at the notion, bringing your gaze up to the chef in front of you. You looked between both of his eyes in the search for anything more sinister; prejudice or otherwise at your open adoration for the clown and smiling warmly once it found none.

“I would like that very much, Sanji,” you whispered quietly, bringing a smile to the chefs face.

He plated it within a travelling box and covered it with a thin piece of material much like you would prepare for your younger siblings to take on their journeys to school. After handing you the material, he held your movement by not yet removing his grip from the material.

“We can’t help who we love,” he said in a voice audible only to you, “but please be careful.”

You smiled in response, bringing your wrapped right hand up to his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze in thanks.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” you said to the chef, “and I will heed your warning.”

Sanji nodded as he released his grip from the packed bento and turned to continue cooking the portions of Katsu-don for his captain and crewmen. You made your way back to the table and Sanji heard the gentle plop of you placing the box down before you spoke next.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he heard you laugh, “I don’t know how to best do this to make it as comfortable for you as I can.”

The clown-captain chuckled wholeheartedly, or as wholeheartedly as he could while his heart was currently separated from himself. Sanji again slightly turned his head to spy on the two of you through his peripherals.

“Don’t overthink it,” he hopped his head in its place atop the teal fabric cover of the hanging dining table, his twinkling smile prominent on his features, “you could never hurt me.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment and apprehensively moved your hands closer to his cheeks, taking them between your hands and caressing him a little in the process. He leaned into your touch as you gently rose him by his jaw to your left shoulder and held him against your neck with your left hand.

From this angle, the nearness looked almost like an embrace. He noticed the clown close his eyes and lean his head into the crook of your neck as you attempted to carry both the sentient head and the packed lunch within your wrapped right hand.

After managing to find an appropriate weight distribution, you turned to Sanji and dipped into a small and abrupt curtsey.

“Thank you again, Sanji,” you said before rising back to your feet. Sanji smiled in response and clicked the silver tongs twice in a playful manner at you before returning to his task of frying fifty portions of katsu-don and pouring a thickened, curry sauce atop the meat.

Part 11

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[monstersandmaw]

Male centipede-alien x transmasc nonbinary reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Final commission from my batch of five! For @mongoose-king!

Content: sassy, confident, transmac reader, non-penetrative sex, oral sex, 't-cock' used for human's genitals, no other areas specified/mentioned. Brief threat to life (not from monster), some mention of isolation on a planet. And a giant pet slug. Wordcount: 6749

“Well. That’s… unexpected,” you croaked, staring incredulously at the small screen on the sleeve of your white space suit as it blinked a red and improbable warning at you.

The planet wasn’t exactly hostile to humans, but the harsh sun and arid air made being outside for long periods of time pretty uncomfortable for humans, and the oxygen levels were low enough that it made you dizzy if you didn’t take a gulp from your suit’s mask from time to time at the very least.

You were quite possibly the only other sapient being within about nine thousand miles, but while you were cataloguing obscure and previously unknown kinds of invertebrate, the research team on the literal other side of the world were geologists from Meliikos Prime, and they didn’t speak Galactic Common very well. They’d been polite enough when you’d hailed them out of courtesy when you’d flown in though, and when they’d discovered you were human, they’d beamed over their extensive survey data of the terrain and marked off water supplies too, which you’d thought was pretty nice of them.

Other than rocks and a few cool bugs though, there really wasn’t anything to write home about on this planet; certainly nothing that was going to win you any research accolades. It wasn’t on any of the major hyperspace links, there were no relay stations in this quadrant, and so far, other than a supremely flamboyant species of flatworm living in a toxic geothermal pool near your research ship, and a type of slug as big as a golden retriever that, rather relatably, hadn’t moved in over a week, there wasn’t anything of note here at all.

And yet, the general alert on your space suit had just calmly announced that a heavy cruiser bearing the insignia and codes of the Porphaerian Empire was inbound to your location and all civilians of the Republic were advised to evacuate the planet as soon as possible and make their way to the nearest Bastion. You weren’t even sure where the nearest military outpost was, given that the ever-belligerent Porphaerian Empire had never shown any interest in invertebrates on remote planets before, and this planet in particular sat on the outer reaches of the known universe and was so bloody insignificant that it hadn’t even acquired a proper name. It was still just: OR-2559-B.

“The fuck?” It came out as a little strangled yelp as you looked up into the purple-ish blue of your dear OR-2559-B’s atmosphere to find the silhouette of a huge ship appearing out of the veil of wispy clouds that whisked and drifted around on the upper currents. These things were only supposed to exist in immersive VR cinemas, and only then to get blown up by plucky pilots operating under astronomically small odds. Plucky you might have been, but you were neither a pilot nor currently in possession of anything more powerful than a handheld scanner for identifying the chemical composition of various types of bug goop. Your ship didn’t even have cannons, though there was a small pistol under the console, just in case.

You snatched up the tray of samples you’d spent the last three hours taking from the placid wildlife around the stream and legged it back towards the small and laughably fragile buggy that you used to cover greater distances into the field from your research ship. By the time you’d jounced over the rough terrain of the plateau and yelled at your little buggy to please find a little more juice in her batteries to get you up the hill at a pace faster than a mildly-inconvenienced slug, you saw other shapes flitting like bats around the underside of the huge cruiser. Fighters.

“Oh come on,” you groaned. Your ship lowered the ramp as it detected your approach and you steered the wheezing buggy up the incline and into the cargo hold, tripping over the side of the roll cage as you floundered to exit the darned thing, and raced to the hatch that would lead you up into the cockpit.

Sweeping a week’s worth of papers and vac-packed ration wrappers off the console, you punched in your code and yelled at the ship to come out of its sleepy hibernation state, which it did with enviable efficiency.

“Hostile signatures detected,” she said in that irritatingly calm voice she had under all circumstances.

“Well the fuck aware, thank you. Now, can we get out of here please?”

The brief thought flickered across your mind that it probably wouldn’t help matters if the ship’s AI screamed at you in panic instead of speaking in a monotone if she blew something down in the engine room, but you had little time to dwell on that as a larger fighter roared right past the windshield and a huge energy blast swept over the ship.

Instinctively, you covered your face and closed your eyes, and when the accompanying cloud of dust and debris had finished raining down and clinking off the glass and metal structure of the ship, you realised she had gone eerily quiet. “Girlie?” you exhaled into the relative silence.

Nothing. Hell, you’d take that dull monotone over this any day.

Opening your eyes and lowering your arms, your body flooded with adrenaline when you saw that all her screens were dark, and the lights had gone off. “Oh, you fucking assholes!” you yelled in the vague direction of the enemy cruiser. “You want my bug slime? Fine! Take it! But you leave my fucking ship alone!”

It was strange what came out of your mouth in times of stress, but you weren’t given the luxury of being able to the psychology of a lone human put suddenly under the immense pressure of an unforeseen and life-threatening situation, because a small fighter landed outside and you scrabbled under the console to retrieve the pistol that you’d placed there on the off-chance you ran into something that thought a scrawny research scientist in a space suit looked more appealing than its usual diet.

A blaster bolt battered its way through the hull of your ship and several more created an enormous smoking hole where the hatch had been, and you stood there, wide eyed, as three Porphaerian soldiers appeared like cartoon villains out of the twisting black smoke. They were all wearing black, form-fitting space suits made of some fancy, matte, composite material, and a shiny, black helmet with a blacked-out visor that revealed nothing of their slightly reptilian features underneath. Their three-fingered hands were also gloved, and they all bore a weapon of some kind: the one at the front of the trio had a blaster, while the one to their left — your right — had some kind of bludgeon that zapped with a purple energy at one end, and the other had a net that crackled with the same energy and a trident with barbed points.

“What do you want?” you chirped, hoping you sounded more composed than you felt. You tightened your hold on the grip of your pistol at your side, and glared at them. “And why are you blowing holes in my baby girl’s hull? She’s a scientist. What’s she ever done to you?”

Your words and tone seemed to confuse the leader of the three Porphaerians for a moment, and they froze, tilting their helmeted head to one side. Seven foot tall, bipedal, with four arms and a long, slashing tail that whipped back and forth behind it like a lizard in a tizzy, they should have been intimidating, but you were so damned outraged at the whole situation, it was hard to be fully afraid. The one to their left let out a growl and chittered something in their incomprehensible language. That was just one of the many things that made the bloody Porphaerians think they were better than everyone else: they had the most convoluted and complicated method of communication out of almost all known species.

“Well, what the fuck do you want?” you barked. As if you had somewhere else you needed to be.

With a put-upon sigh, the leader began to talk in Galactic Common, though their mouth full of pointed teeth wasn’t really equipped for its syllables. “You are in… possession of… a substance that is of… interest to our Great and Glorious Empire.”

You blinked. “You guys… really do want my bug slime?”

“Your… what?”

“I’m a scientist. I’m studying invertebrates. Bugs. The slug outside — its name is Goldie, by the way, and it had better not have come to any harm because of you losers — has become a bit of a mascot in the week and a half it’s been resting on that rock.”

“We are not here for… ‘bugs’.”

“Then I’ve got nothing for you, buddy,” you said with a slightly wild grin that was about 99% panic. If you had nothing to offer them, they’d probably just kill you for the inconvenience of a wasted trip. “But if you tell me more about what you’re after, then perhaps I can help?” You had no intention of actually helping them, but stalling them was going to buy you a few more precious minutes to think of a way out of this, so you took it.

“You are… researching… the refractive properties of… a newly-discovered mineral,” the leader said in stilted Common. “Surrender your research and all samples, and we will leave you unharmed.”

Minerals. Shit, that was the nice team from Meliikos Prime.

“I see that you are cognisant of our request.”

“I… what? No.” You stuck your thumb comically towards your chest and grinned, “Bug guy. Not rocks. And that was not a request either. You guys need to work on your Common. Your vocab is seriously lacking.”

One of them twitched their head as if something had come in over the comms, and all three of them tightened their grip on their weapons.

“Seems like you were telling the truth,” the leader scoffed and raised their blaster.

You barely got to duck out of the way before a shot went off, but when you rolled and came up, you saw that the hole where they’d been standing was now empty. A second later, you heard scuttling on the roof of your ship and panic set in for the first time.

The tapping of many legs skittered across the roof and towards the gap in the side, and then at the top of the hole caused by the Porphaerian’s blaster damage, a creature appeared, peering down over the torn and burned edge of the hole. At first, all you saw was a pair of long, caramel brown antennae investigating the space, but a head soon followed, adorned with colossal, mean looking mandibles that could probably punch a second hole through your poor ship’s hull with even less effort than the blaster bolt.

“What the fuck?” you coughed, reeling backwards. You’d never seen any sign of a centipede that size on this planet. When you spotted one of the Porphaerians moving in the limited view outside though, raising their weapon, you yelped and flailed your arms to get it to move, “Watch out!”

In a sinuous motion, the creature looked up, hissed, and slithered on its series of many, jointed legs down to where the Porphaerian was now standing. It reared up, lashing out with forelegs that looked at once deadly and fragile, like alabaster in the strange light of the planet’s atmosphere, and then in a flash, it lunged for the neck of its would-be attacker and closed its steel-jaw mandibles around it. A green fluid burst like an overripe fruit, and you wondered if that was Porphaerian blood or the creature’s venom. The second Porphaerian was caught by the whiplash of its tail and flung into the side of their fighter ship, and the third was nowhere to be seen.

When the centipede-like creature was done decapitating, it turned around and regarded you. It wasn’t just a giant centipede, you realised, as it had more of an upper torso section, with armoured ‘shoulders’ and a couple of limbs at the top that were more like arms with hands than the sickle-like claws that adorned the rest of the legs on its long, segmented, chocolate brown body, and it was regarding you from black, beady eyes with obvious intellect.

Only when it paused, staring at you while your charred ship smoked like something forgotten on a barbecue, did you notice that it had a kind of bandoleer around those shoulders, though it didn’t have cartridges or ammunition that you could see. Instead, there were pockets and some kind of comms device, and… you frowned. “You’re… with the Republic?” you faltered when you saw the insignia.

The alien nodded.

“You have any idea why the fuck the fucking Porphaerian Empire was after my little research ship? Actually, scratch that. They said they were after some funky mineral and — oh God, the geology guys! They —”

The creature chittered something at you, and while you didn’t understand it, you realised it had a distinct air of impatience, with a touch of exasperation thrown in too.

“What?”

Its chitinous shoulders drooped and it scuttled a little closer to the blackened hole in your ship before rearing up and peering in like a dog looking out of a window. You almost laughed, and then realised you were probably a little hysterical from all the adrenaline.

In a rasping, scraping voice, the creature said in Galactic Common, “The team from Meliikos are safe. They told me about you. I came to get you. We need to leave.” Then, after casting a quick, backwards glance, they added, “Now.”

And before you could do so much as grab your favourite pencil from your workstation, the creature had slithered into the ship, scooped you up in its uppermost arms, and was retreating at what felt like a hundred miles an hour out of the shell of your destroyed ship, and out towards the rocky plateau at the bottom of the slope.

As you passed the seemingly-dormant giant slug, you chuckled as it raised its head, eye-stems appearing, and you waved. “So long, Goldie! Take care! I’ll miss our chats!”

“Are you… alright?” the centipede-alien asked, sounding genuinely concerned for your sanity.

Perhaps you’d been alone on OR-2559-B for a few months too long after all. With a shrug, you let yourself be jostled lightly along in their arms and tried not to watch the mesmeric pattern of their honey-gold legs as they rippled beneath their segmented body over the uneven terrain. “Goldie’s been by my side since I got here. I’ve shared most of my research with her. I’m 95% sure she has some pretty nuanced opinions on that comedy military drama thing that came out on earth about a hundred years ago…”

“I will have you checked out by our ship’s medic,” the centipede-alien said as they thundered over the terrain, and you laughed and settled into their arms. Your research had been funded by the Republic, so if one of their soldiers had been sent to rescue you, they could file the reports and figure out what happened next. Honestly, as much as you’d formed an attachment to the community of flamboyant flatworms and the super-gigantic slug, you were suddenly looking forward to an excuse to go off-world and, you know, interact with people again. You just had to make it past the heavy cruiser and its fleet of fighters first.

It turned out that your centipede friend was part of some kind of elite team that made extraction from a hostile environment look like a visit to the archives, and you were tucked away in the corner of their nippy little shuttle while an alien of a species you didn’t recognise, with a crown of antlers and skin like a red nebula, piloted you away from the Porphaerians and out into deeper space. It was one of the roughest take-offs you’d ever endured, but it worked, and it was oddly heart-warming when the Meliikos team all looked around and waved at you in obvious relief when the centipede-alien brought you on board the Republic ship.

The ship’s medic turned out to be really nice, and when you explained that your supplies had all been left on the research ship along with literally the rest of your life in space, they set you up again with your regular prescriptions, and checked you over. After you’d recovered from the aftereffects of the shock, they were happy to discharge you, and you headed out to explore the ship.

Just as you waved your hand in front of the release mechanism for the medbay door though, it was opened by someone from outside, and you took a step back to avoid a collision. The person on the other side halted abruptly in the doorway — literally filling the doorway — and you tipped your head up to take in the full sight of them. It was your saviour, and you grinned at them at the same time as they made a kind of chittering with their thick, black mandibles and waggled their long antennae.

“Hey,” you smiled. “Listen, thanks for getting me out of there like that. I was kind of out of it on the ride over. I never got your name.”

A series of distinctive clicks and chatters left the creature, and you grimaced.

“You got a Galactic Common alternative? My mouth doesn’t, uh… move like that.” The more you thought about their mouth though, the more interested you were in them. They really were beautiful, with a mahogany brown, segmented body and paler legs, and a head with a woodgrain pattern that you hadn’t noticed before.

The centipede alien nodded and laughed, and then said in that harsh voice like bending steel, “I’ve been called ‘Kerritt’ before by humans because of the sound of my name in my own language. You may call me Kerritt, and I use the human equivalent of male pronouns. What should I call you?”

You told him, and he nodded seriously.

“Are you feeling well? I could show you around the ship, but the First Officer would like to speak with you before we do anything else. She sent me down to see if you are well enough to have an audience with her.”

He spoke in short, stilted phrases and his upper body swayed a little. The majority of his body was like that of a giant centipede, but he had a definite waist section that was different from the rest of the segments of chitin and it rose vertically while the rest of him stayed parallel to the ground. And yes, those uppermost limbs were definitely more like arms, with hands that ended in chitinous points and sections of chitin that were more like bracers and gauntlets. His eyes were glossy black, almond shaped, and huge. The way they were placed far apart on his insectoid head was really rather sweet as he regarded you attentively, his long antennae constantly waving up and down in a slow, mesmeric pattern.

“I’m good,” you nodded. “Bit shaken up, and confused as heck, but I’m good. Let’s go talk to your First Officer. Maybe she can explain why the fuck the Porphaerians mistook the bugs guy for the rocks guys.”

He chuckled. “The Meliikosian team will take offence if you call them the ‘rocks guys’,” he said as he turned around in a sinuous curve and began to lead you up the ship’s gleaming corridor towards the bridge. “They are a proud and reserved people.”

“Nah, we’re cool. They like me. They waved at me when you brought me on board. In their culture, that’s practically a marriage proposal, right?”

Again, Kerritt laughed. “Perhaps. Though if you’re so easy to get along with, why did your university send you to one of the most remote places in the entire universe?”

“Ouch! Actually, the Head of the Department was so jealous of my research that she got me funding for a project that would take me as far from the capital as it’s possible to go…” you said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Really?”

“No,” you snorted. “I have an insatiable hunger for the unknown, and some trader mentioned that a cargo pilot said that a friend of hers said there were weird bugs on OR-2559-B. So, I got funding and headed out.”

“That’s… convoluted,” Kerritt said diplomatically. “You went all that way to study invertebrates? Are there none on your planet?”

You eyed him up and down and watched his antennae pull back a little. Was that trepidation? “Sure there are, but what can I say? I’m a dedicated researcher.”

“Right.”

The conversation with the First Officer didn’t last long. She was a colossal Grummgarian with orange-yellow skin and horns on her chin, and absolutely zero patience. When she realised that the only reason you’d drawn Porphaerian attention was by accident, she informed you that you’d be dropped off at the Bastion and would be provided with transport passes back to your university, before she dismissed you with a wave of her three-fingered hand and Kerritt escorted you from the bridge.

“A bit of warning would have been nice,” you shot sidelong at him as the doors closed behind you with a soft thunk.

“There is no warning adequate for that woman,” he said dryly. “You were better off going in cold. Shall I give you a tour of the ship?”

You nodded and followed him as he helped you get your bearings. “Tell me about yourself?” you asked. “I mean, I’ve met a few different species, but I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“Oh,” he said, and clicked his mandibles. “Do you wish to study me too then? Since I am technically an invertebrate myself, after all.”

“Maybe, if you’ll let me,” you said with a wink and watched his antennae pull back again.

“I think I could be persuaded,” he replied. “I’ve not had much contact with your kind either. I didn’t expect you to be so…” he leaned down and tilted his head “… soft. How did you survive the atmosphere of OR-2559-B? I was led to believe that you require higher oxygen levels for respiration?”

“Space suit,” you said. “It did make me a bit dizzy sometimes, but you know, that can be fun too, under the right circumstances.”

“My sources were right about one thing,” Kerritt said dryly as he drew himself back up to his usual posture.

“What’s that?”

“Humans have strange preferences.”

“Baby, you have no idea,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Come on, let’s finish this tour before I keel over. I’m exhausted.”

The two of you traded light conversation back and forth as he led you up corridors and companionways until that banter devolved steadily into cautious but very much overt flirting, and when he left you at the door to what would be your quarters for the short hop to the Republic Bastion, you said, “If I weren’t so tired that I might pass out before the fun even gets started, I’d invite you in.”

“Another time,” he said with a sympathetic bow of his head. “My quarters are up the corridor, should you need me. I’m off duty for a while now.”

“Nice. And thanks for showing me round.”

Kerritt gave another nod, and then he left.

You watched him go down the corridor to another door, his legs rippling in a sinuous sequence to take him forward, and you remembered how it felt to be carried along in his arms and shivered. Your body was running on fumes, but your brain still liked the memory of that strange, chitinous creature holding you in his arms.

You barely had the energy to shower in the cramped en suite, but once you’d changed into something more comfortable and less singed and gritty than your current outfit, you fell onto the bed and slept for sixteen hours straight.

When you woke and dressed, and staggered out into the corridor, your first port of call was the refectory to silence your growling stomach, but everything was closed since it wasn’t the ship’s mealtime. A diminutive creature with four arms and scaled, purple skin looked up from one of the tables in the empty dining area though and chirped something that sounded like an exclamation.

“Wait, human! Kerritt told me about you!” They had a head like a snake and thick spines all down their back, and although they wore clothing over their top half, their lower half was a thick, sinuous tail that uncoiled as they pushed back from the table and made their way over to you. “You want some food? I’ve never cooked for a human before. There aren’t any on this ship, and I joined the Mantis straight from the academy. I had to look up recipes for you in the species guide! I’m not sure what you’d like, but I made six earth dishes for you to choose from. They’re keeping warm now. I didn’t know when you’d be by.”

Their enthusiasm was almost overwhelming after a sleep that was essentially a fully-blown hibernation, but you nodded and let them lead you into the kitchen where you chose something that vaguely resembled beef chilli, though the beans weren’t the usual ones. They were turquoise blue, but they tasted ok.

You were about halfway through an enormous bowl of it when Kerritt entered the dining hall looking tense. That was, he looked tense until he saw you, at which point he sighed and scuttled over in that smooth way you found so attractive, his body moving like a ribbon between the tables.

“You’re awake,” he said when he reached you. “Are you alright? I had to ask the ship’s computer if there was still life detected in your quarters.”

You laughed long and loud. “Yeah, I do that sometimes. Sorry. Yeah, I’m good. Turns out my faithful little research ship, rest in pieces, wasn’t actually built for long-term habitation, because my god the mattress in my bunk here is like sleeping on a cloud, I swear.” You took another spoonful of ‘chilli’ and asked, “How’s things?”

“The ship is on course to dock at the Bastion in seventeen hours,” he said, apparently not sure quite what you’d meant. “Everyone is interested in meeting a human. They have been asking me many questions about you.”

“Oh? What did you tell them?”

“That I have only known you a few hours and cannot speak on your behalf.”

You smiled at him and shook your head. “Ah, you’re a good soul, you know that, Kerritt? I like you. Tell you what, when I’ve finished this… uh… ‘chilli’, you can introduce me to your friends.”

He nodded. “May I keep you company until then?”

“I’d love that,” you replied. “You can tell me how the Republic knew about the attack in the first place.”

While he was talking, a few people drifted in and approached when they saw that you were there, talking with Kerritt. It seemed like he was something of a hero among the crew himself, and the array of non-humans aboard varied from the reptilian cook with their purple skin to another invertebrate built more like a spider than a centipede, and several humanoid species, though the differences between you and them were marked. Long after you’d finished your chilli, you were all still gathered around your table, chatting and laughing together, and as people left to tend to their duties or head to their bunks for their downtime, you remarked to Kerritt what a tight-knit crew they had.

He nodded. “We’ve seen a lot of action together in the Vith Sector. It has a way of bonding a crew.”

“For sure,” you said, turning more serious. That sector was where the Porphaerians had been making their most aggressive moves in the last decade of their expansion. You sighed and stretched your neck a little.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Mm. Might walk around a bit for a while. Stretch my legs. Wanna join me?”

He bowed his head and scuttled back from where he’d been coiled up on himself while you’d been talking. His legs moved like clockwork parts, clicking on the shiny floor of the refectory, and you bit your lip and ached to touch.

His mandibles drifted a little further apart for a moment, and you got the impression he was scenting the air, but he took it no further and you tried hard to ignore how attractive you found him and his strange body while you walked the ship’s halls together.

Down in engineering, you visited one of the people you’d just met, and they showed you a few details of how the ship’s engine worked, until you started yawning again, and Kerritt took you back up to the corridor with the living quarters.

“You know, I’m tired, but I'm not actually all that sleepy,” you said. “I think it’s just the stress of what happened.”

“Perhaps… you would like to relax in my room? The permanent crew’s quarters are much bigger than the guest room you were assigned.”

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “Thank you.”

He continued down the corridor to his own room and you followed at his side.

“You know,” you said as he tapped a wristband to the reader in front of his door and it opened almost silently, “I never thanked you for saving my life. Those were some pretty badass moves back there. I’ve never had anyone defend me like that.”

His antennae flicked back in what you were now certain was a bashful expression, and he shrugged one chitinous shoulder. “My unit is trained to handle unusual situations.”

“I count as an unusual situation, do I?”

“I… what?”

“You handled me pretty well.”

If his entirely-black eyes could have rolled, you were certain they would have done, but he waved his hand in front of the door panel and it shut before anyone else on the ship could overhear you. 

“You are very… forward, human,” he said, coming closer; close enough to touch.

You reached slowly for his ‘chest’ — or at least, for the section of his body that rose vertically, and which had much smaller segmented parts than the rest of him — and you held your hand out, palm facing him, just a few centimetres from his body. “May I?” you breathed.

He nodded. His own body had gone utterly still. All those mechanical legs holding him rigid as he tilted his head down to regard you, antennae pricked forwards.

Your hand connected with his cool body and a shudder ran through him from head to tail. A second later, lines of neon, bioluminescent green flashed along the length of his body and you gasped, taking your hand away in surprise before pressing it back down and watching the light pulse out a second time. “God, you’re beautiful. Can you feel that then?”

“Yes. Touch is our primary sense.”

You’d suspected as much, but you’d wanted to be sure. You brought your right hand up to meet your left and stood slowly, running your hands up his chest. All the while, his natural bioluminescence pulsed along his body, beginning at the point where you touched him and zipping down the segments of his body like lightning in a regular pattern. The chitin beneath your fingertips felt like glass: smooth and cool and oddly fragile. Your fingers traced the line of one of the segments that sat like armour on his shoulders and he gave another soft gasp and a shiver.

“May I touch you?” he asked.

“God yes,” you laughed, and he brought his clawed hands to your waist then up your torso and neck to rake the points of his fingertips across your scalp. For a second, your soul felt like it left your body and you tipped your head back and moaned.

“You enjoy touch too.”

“Unnfff.”

“Yes?”

You nodded.

“May I pick you up?”

A second and more enthusiastic “unnfff,” left your lips and he chuckled, lowering his mouth towards you for just an instant before he twitched backwards. “Mm?” you asked, only dimly aware that he was actually carrying you across the room towards his wide, comfortable bed now.

“I have to be careful. I have a lot of venom. It’s deadly to humans. Deadly to most species, actually.”

“Oh. I guess that means I can’t kiss you there then.”

“I have to inject my venom for it to be dangerous,” he said, “But I still have to be careful. It’s something of a reflex when I am… aroused.”

“I turn you on, huh?” you slurred cheekily.

“Yes.”

You loved how direct he was, and as he laid you down on the bed and moved his fingers to pause at the fastening of your clothes, you nodded before he could ask permission. He still did, of course, but it was more of a formality at that point. He raked his claws experimentally over your skin, so light it almost tickled, and you arched off the bed.

“I can smell you,” he said when he’d let your clothes fall to the floor. “May I taste you?”

You nodded, desperate to feel his mandibles against your skin. You were swollen and hard and sensitive already, and when he parted his huge mandibles wide to reveal his mouth and a black tongue, you bucked and whimpered and parted your legs for him.

The feel of his tongue exploring up the inside of your thighs was a torture of the best kind, and by the time he closed his mouth around your t-cock, you felt like you might come just from the touch alone. You had no idea what words came tumbling out of your mouth, but he let out a rumbling growl that made his whole body shake and pulse with light again, and you nearly yelled as he dug his claw-like hands into the muscle of your thighs.

You couldn’t think terribly clearly as he got back to work in earnest, practically worshipping your body with his mouth, his onyx mandibles raised just safely enough not to puncture your body but not far enough away that the wicked sharp tips didn’t prick your skin from time to time. His antennae glanced against your waist and shoulders from time to time and you had to restrain yourself from grabbing onto them. They were not horns, and you might even hurt him if you did. It was tantalising and you thrust your head back into the pillow behind you and let out a long, yowling cry of pleasure as you got closer and closer to coming.

Kerritt picked you up again, lifting you right off the bed with ease, and he brought the smooth segments of his lower body to touch yours as he lay down facing you on the bed beside you, encasing you in the cage of his many legs. The feeling of being held and almost immobilised was intoxicating, and you reached a hand up for his head and gripped around the smooth, curved contour of one mandible. He groaned again and you grabbed for the other with your free hand.

“How careful do I have to be with these?” you asked in a rough voice.

They parted and flexed just a little under your hold, but you could feel the immense strength behind them. You’d been right when you’d thought idly that they could punch through steel. One bite from those and you’d be dead.

“Not that careful,” he said, clearly amused behind his growing arousal.

He rubbed his glowing body slowly against you, catching your cock just perfectly with a smooth segment and you wrapped both legs around between two pairs of his legs to adjust the angle and the pressure. He was getting wet from the opening in his carapace, and the combined mess you were making was enough to set your head spinning.

“I’m gonna come,” you breathed as he picked up his pace, fucking against you more wildly with each of your pounding heartbeats. “Oh god, you’re going to make me come.”

“I’m close too,” he said, and you felt his mandibles start to shake and tremble in your grip. “I want to bite you,” he groaned. “I’m going to bite —”

The thick ring of his black mandibles slipped from your hold and in the blink of an eye they’d closed around your neck like a collar. You came with a blinding intensity, bucking against him while his hot tongue pressed against your throat.

A second later, his whole body locked up and he spilled over you in a rush of hot come that went up your stomach and down between your thighs while his whole body spasmed helplessly. His tail curled around you, locking you even more securely in place while his orgasm wracked his entire body, his legs tightening like the jaws of a bear trap against your naked body.

Eventually he stopped and went slack on the bed, and his mandibles opened slowly. All the chinks in his chitinous armour glowed a steady, quiescent green, and his antennae felt and tested at your neck. You nearly laughed at the tickling contrast between the powerful jaws and tender antennae.

“Did I hurt you? Tell me I didn’t hurt you,” he croaked.

“M’good,” you smiled and kissed one black, glossy mandible before he raised it completely out of reach.

He sighed with relief. “I’m sorry. My kind tend to lock in place during… you know. I thought perhaps with you it would be different, but… I’m sorry. It was a risk I shouldn’t have taken with you.”

“S’all good,” you said, your mind blissfully foggy in the wake of the best orgasm you’d had in months. “Come back here,” you said, petting the side of your neck to try and get him to hold you there again with his mandibles.

He did return his grip to your neck, and he slowly coiled his entire body around yours again while the two of you came down together.

“I think you’ve ruined sex with any other species for me after that,” you mumbled a while later.

Carefully, he withdrew his mandibles from you again and nuzzled the smooth top of his head against you, making a soft, crooning noise akin to purr.

“As I think you have for me,” he rumbled.

Without warning, the door to his quarters opened with its near silent sigh of metal on metal, and someone strode in, looking down at a screen in their hand. “Hey, Kerritt, I need you to sign this report for —”

Kerritt drew you even closer to him, masking you completely from whoever had intruded, and he hissed loudly at them over your head like a cobra.

“Shit! Sorry!” they barked, clearly as taken by surprise at the hissing as he had been by their arrival. “You never have company. I just… I’m so sorry! I’ll… uh… it can wait.”

You started laughing even before he set you back down on the bed, and by the time he had relaxed enough to draw back from his protective hold on you, your laugh had turned into a proper cackle.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” he snapped.

“I’ve never had a partner hiss at someone to defend my dignity,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes and pushing up onto one elbow.

He regarded you flatly, and you reached carefully for the nearest antenna, running your fingertip along it before encircling it suggestively with thumb and fingers until he gave another huge, full-body shiver and let out a little moan, light pulsing again.  

“It’s sweet, that’s all,” you smiled and then asked, “You think you’ve got another one in you, big guy?”

“Keep touching me like that and find out,” Kerritt muttered, rolling onto his back, at once docile and provocative, and letting all the tightly-coiled segments of his body unfurl for you like a fern. That light still darted along him whenever you touched him, flaring to life to telegraph just how turned on he was by you.

This time, you rode him to orgasm, rocking your hips back and forth over his slit until you both came a second time.

Watching a creature as powerful as he was come so completely undone beneath you was probably one of the best sights you’d ever seen.

__

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[citadelsanchez]

Greetings, our dearest and best writer in the entire history of ever, could I interest you in a little scenario where Rick takes y/n and Morty on a little adventure and leaves y/n alone for a moment to meet up with a "contact" only to come back to y/n being surrounded by people and HEAVILY flirted with? I'd just love to imagine the look on Rick's face when y/n spots him with this helpless puppy look as they try to fend off suitors,,,

Hi. Been a minute since I've posted. Holidays and all that, plus I'm in the process of moving states so I apologize! I promise that I will still be slowly working on these. <3 anyways,, hope you enjoy.

((Gender neutral reader))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Um.. I dunno, Jerry," you muttered uncomfortably. You were currently sat between Morty and Jerry on the Smiths' couch, and got caught in the middle of the two boys having a debate over Interdimensional Cable. Jerry insisted that he was best friends with Keanu Reeves and Dwayne Johnson in his alternate reality. Morty claimed that even in a different reality he'd never be cool enough for that to be true.

"Well it's nice to be reminded just how much of a loser my own son thinks I am. Y/N, what's your opinion on this?" Jerry asked.

You awkwardly shrugged as you checked your phone and hoped they would just stop talking altogether.

"Hey dipshits, is there some valid reason that you didn't come to the garAAGe when I called your names?"

You turned your head to see none other than Rick entering the living room to stand over you and Morty with his arms crossed.

"W-we never heard you call us," Morty spoke.

Rick scoffed. "Well you just heard me. Get to moving" he said, keeping stern eye contact with you before stalking back towards the garage.

You and Morty glance at each other before hesitantly getting up to obey his command, you're both used to his formidable attitude and being too overcome with curiosity to argue.

When you make it to the garage, Rick is already in his ship ready to depart.

"Get in, come the fuck on" he calls out harshly.

Morty stumbles in and you take your place in the back, wedging your legs between the middle of the floor between their seats.

"So what are we doing, specifically?" You ask, watching as Rick expressionlessly drives the ship. Adventures didn't phase you at all anymore; it had been about a full year now since you've started going on them with your esteemed older mentor and his grandson. The scenery never really made a difference anymore but the objective behind the adventures did.

"Just- it's just a compound I need for a project, that's all."

"That wasn't what I'd call specific" you frown, staring at his side profile.

"It's perfectly specific in being all the information that I care to give out," Rick retorts, throwing you an annoyed look.

"Geeez Rick," Morty adds.

You roll your eyes and decide not to further press the issue. You're no stranger to Rick's many moods and abusive jabs, but usually you were able to pinpoint reasons for them, even if small. Sometimes, though, it seemed deeper than what you could read into and you knew to just leave it be. It wasn't like he would relay his true emotions to anyone.

The ship whirred to a halt as you looked outside of the windows to see a lively city filled with people entering and exiting eccentric shops. Most of the inhabitants seemed to have a masculine appearance, some taking on hybrid human and alien features. Some were strange creatures altogether, and some looked to be completely human.

The three of you climb out of the ship as Rick starts talking. "Alright, so I've got to tend to my business. You two stay here and don't die."

He looks between you and Morty, a sense of guilt almost marking his face before the typical scowl replaces it. "I-If you can't manage that, use this to let me know." Rick shoves a device with a giant blue button in your hands now.

"Good luuUUCk" He burps before walking off into the crowd of humanoids and disappearing from sight.

"Wow, he's really on it today, huh Y/N?" Morty says, puzzled.

"Something's off, I can tell. I need to find out what it is," You respond. "Rick has obviously left us in the dark before but this just doesn't feel right."

Just as you're about to take stride to follow Rick, several warlock resemblant men surround you, blocking your path. Their curious inquiries spill out all at once.

"Look at this specimen, Norpel. Definitely not from around here."

"What's your name, gorgeous?"

"I was told not to touch the aliens that visit but I almost can't resist."

You take a step back and sigh in frustration. Damn you, Rick.

"And you're dead set on using this formula and enduring it's possible side effects, Rick?"

Rick frowned, irked by the fact that his colleague wouldn't just provide him with what he asked for without a 20 questions game.

"Yes, Shabablurb, I'm completely positive."

The mysterious man turned to face the older scientist. "I just have to make sure. I'll go get it then."

Rick tapped his foot as he waited and his mind wanders back to you once again. Your gentle eyes of compassion, your sometimes rare but always bright smile, your soft hair. The inside jokes you two came to have, the gentle touches you give him when he's not being an asshole, the way his entire family cherishes your presence. How he feels about you- he knows the feeling and knows it well. Which is why he needs to get rid of it.

Shabablurb re-enters the room with a vial. "Okay, one and done. I'm not here to judge any of your decisions but just remember Rick, that once you take this, you won't be able to remember an-"

"I got it. Thanks. I'm out."

Rick snatched the compound from the man's hand and began making his way back to Morty and Y/N.

He was starting to wonder if you two had went to a bar or club somewhere when he heard your voice, wavering and meek. Unusually out of character for you.

"Hey stop, don't, back up- don't touch me please."

Rick narrowed his eyes at the crowd he was walking through, pushing past everyone to reach the sound of your voice.

Many feet away, Morty was nowhere in sight but he caught a glimpse of your face, flush with panic and anxiety, as the strange men continued to prod you and several attempting to grab a part of you- your clothes or body.

Your eyes meet Rick's and he can clearly see the plea for help in them as one creature grabs hold of your shirt and begins yanking it.

Rick feels his anger start to surge. He removes his laser gun from his coat and fires it at the crowd, freezing some suitors in place and burning holes in others. Once you're no longer engulfed in bodies, he finds the job satisfactory.

"R-Rick, thank you," you murmur while he walks over, embarrassed by the scene that just played out. You gently brush your fingers over his hand after he puts his gun away and he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

"Rick?"

"Uh yeah, sorry. Glad I could save the day. They w-would've had a feast with you."

Your cheeks flush although you're not sure in what context Rick was even referring to.

In honesty, neither was he. All that was consuming his mind were second guesses. Guilt and pain that clutched his chest with a deathly grip. And a single question ringing in his head.

How could he make himself forget about you?

[praetorqueenreyna]

I love reading about u talk about acotar, really intrigues me enough to consider reading the books, I'm also very interested in any and all fandom gossip, so please please please tell me what is the current situation? What is elaingate in reference to? 👀👀👀

WELL FIRSTABLE if you read the books, stop after the first one 😂 and THANK YOU FOR ASKING I will relay the tale of some of the most low-stakes fandom drama to ever exist that I accidentally started WHOOPSIE

On July 24, 2024, the blog for Elain Archeron Week posted the rules for the event. There were 4 rules, one of which was that they wouldn't allow ships with "known abusers" and listed Tamlin and Beron as examples (I assume you know who Tamlin is lmao, Beron is a kind of generic Mean Dad character). ACOTAR fandom is known for being puritanical and religiously devoted to canon, but this is a new development. Event week mods have ignored/not reblogged content they don't like that was submitted for their week, but this is the first one I've seen that outright BANNED anything.

There was already a little kickback that mostly has to do with the two competing ships for Elain, elriel and elucien. They both think the other is the DEVIL even though both ships are equally boring. Apparently, the Elain Week is run by elriels, and eluciens were already huffy about the wording of an ask wondering if elucien would be allowed in the event. This part of the story is boring and doesn't have anything to do with me, the star of the show, so I will move on.

Anyway! A few fandom friends sent me links and screenshots of all of this because it's objectively funny. I made a post talking about how funny it was, which brought attention to it on this side of the fandom. My mutuals (the most hilarious people on the planet) asked what was going on, and immediately joined in on the fun. Memes were created at an astronomical rate. Art, fic, and poems for every possible ship of those three characters were made. Amazingly enough, Tamlin/Beron has had a huge surge of content, as the two men named and specifically banned from the week. I started tagging the posts #elaingate, and apparently it caught on enough that the tag now has over 100 posts in it.

To clarify!! The issue has never been about the ships themselves. There are VERY few Tamlin/Elain shippers on tumblr, which I know because I have run multiple demographic surveys and crunched the numbers. And absolutely NOBODY was making Beron/Elain. You have to understand how bland this fandom is. They consider one of the most degenerate, disgusting ships to be the main male character and....his wife's sister. And it certainly isn't isolated to elain/elriel stans, they were just the unlucky bastards to finally verbalize these insidious issues with fandom, especially ACOTAR fandom. Mostly just that the fandom is EXTREMELY conservative, and also that people that like the Popular Thing always have to make themselves out to be the ultimate victims. It's also in poor taste for running an event week. Yes, event weeks are run by fans in their free time, but the idea is to inspire EVERYBODY to create for the thing that you're a fan of. If you're so precious that simple seeing a ship you don't like sends you to the fainting couch, an event week is probably not the thing for you.

I wrote a whole essay on modern ACOTAR fandom here then deleted it bc YOU DID NOT ASK. But anyway THAT IS ELAINGATE we are all being very silly.

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 10 - Hey There Delilah

The Kid Pirates finally make it to the next island and you join them for an excursion.

WC: ~6k

This one goes out to the lesbians 💕

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

A week had passed since the bounty party, and like a teenager who just discovered masturbating, you had been all over Heat. If you weren't sewn at the hip to him before, you definitely were now, pressing your leg suggestively against his during meals, holding his hand openly on the deck, snuggling up to him whenever the chance arose. Killer had dragged you away a few times for reading lessons, but like a magnet you were right back to Heat's side as soon as the lesson was over. He didn't mind it at all, especially when you seemed to have an insatiable appetite for making out and dry humping, it wasn't like this was a one sided deal. It did make it hard though to convince the others that he wasn’t your boyfriend.

You'd even gone a little further and experimented with using your mouth on him, strictly above the belt, running your tongue over his chest and playing with the piercings on his nipples with your tongue. He wasn't pushing you further than you were comfortable with, and while he'd fingered you plenty more times, at your frequent request, he didn't dare ask you to touch him. Not yet, you weren't ready for that, you were still learning about yourself and that was his priority. For now though he wondered if his fingers might fall off with how they ached from the near constant use.

Today however, you had been forcibly pried away from Heat by his responsibilities. This evening the ship would be arriving at the winter island it'd been in weather range of for a few days now, so his job on the ship was keeping him busy. You stomped around and pouted, before Kid yelled at you to cut it out and either go jack off, or go find something useful to do. You sulking at the loss of your ‘not boyfriend’ was pissing him off.

It was maybe the worst suggestion he'd ever had in his history as a captain though, because you were essentially a horny, untamed teenager right now, unhinged by your recent discovery of the fabled orgasm. With no responsibility to keep you entertained you ended up masturbating till it hurt, and then some. Heat went hunting for you after you didn't turn up for dinner and found you naked and deep asleep, laid out over the bed with your legs still spread, your pussy red and irritated from the marathon you'd performed on yourself. Well, at least you were learning what you liked, he mused to himself before covering you up. Your small cabin was warm from the physical excursion, your porthole still a little foggy, but sooner or later the air would cool and the harsh reality of the approaching winter island would close in.

Kid almost had an aneurysm when Heat returned to the dinner table without you and relayed what he'd seen. It'd been a joke, he didn't actually think you would go jerk off. And he'd said it to you not long after lunch, which meant you'd been going at it solo for at least six hours, give or take however long you'd been asleep for. There were tears in his eyes from laughing so hard at how ridiculous you were. He had to admit he was a little impressed though, he'd probably lose his remaining arm if he tried to jack off for that long, hell, his whole dick would probably fall off. Not to mention that most women he'd met owned toys to do the hard work, but considering you'd only had your first orgasm a few days ago, he seriously doubted you owned any, which meant you were doing it the old fashioned way that whole time. Which brought him to his next thought.

“This next town is supposed to be quite big,” Kid told Heat, “take the girl to a sex shop or something. I'm sick of watching her fawn over you when she can't be bothered doing it herself. Get her some fucking toys so she can stop pissing me off and I can have my commander back”

“Is that an order, Captain?” Heat laughed, “I was planning on taking her to one anyway. I feel bad leaving her to fend for herself to go fuck other woman on the island”

“Why would we be leaving her?” Kid asked, “You don't think she'd want to come to the brothel? Considering she's acting like a fucking teenager. Maybe she likes chicks, we could find someone to pawn her off on to”

“That's not the worst idea you've had,” Heat pondered, “I'll ask her. It's not something she's mentioned but you're right that she's a bit… unmanageable at the moment. I feel like I've let a fucking snake out of a box, my hand fucking hurts man, and I swear my dick is starting to chafe from all the dry humping”

“That's what you get for being a gentleman,” Wire laughed, “I'm guessing by the sounds of it that she's not letting you get your snake in the box either?”

“It's more that I've decided I'm not going to cross that line with her,” Heat sighed, “she's technically a virgin, she's only ever been raped. She's curious but I told her she should save it for someone she loves”

Kid made a mock gagging sound and looked unimpressed. “Fucking pussy,” he said, “you telling me you're in her room multiple times a day, and night, locking lips like you don't need to breathe, and you're not hitting that? What a fucking waste”

“If she asks me to fuck her, I will,” Heat replied, “but I'm not pressuring her. She's still figuring her shit out, she needs time. She's had shit so fucking rough the least she deserves is her first time to be special. Stop being such a cunt about it”

Kid snorted in response and tore at the pork rib in his hand with his sharp teeth.

About an hour later the ship finally pulled into the port, the cold winter weather truly setting in on the ship now as they prepared to disembark. The town was large, as predicted - it seemed like a tourist hotspot for snow sports, given the large snow capped hills that surrounded it. It was picturesque, the warm bulbs of the streetlights shining faintly through the gentle snow flurry that was currently falling, the soft light sparkling and reflecting off the many white, snow coated surfaces. The buildings were old and rustic looking, the roads paved with cobblestones that were being constantly cleared by city workers. You imagined this town was probably perfect, and very busy, during the Christmas season.

You stood huddled up next to Heat, having woken from your jerk-athon nap utterly freezing, now bundled up in the warmest clothes you owned and clinging to his arm for warmth. You were thankful for your mask, which acted like ear muffs and shielded a good portion of your face from the brisk wind. Small snowflakes were catching in your purple hair, making it glitter as you moved. The duffle bag Heat had made you buy at the last island was slung over your shoulder, filled with toiletries, practice reading materials, and enough clothes to last till the log pose reset.

It was far too late in the evening for any errands to be run, most of the stores in the idyllic town were already closed for the evening, so tonight would just be for entertainment. A lot of the men hadn't had a chance to get their dicks wet since before you had even come on board, so they were eager to see what the town's night district offered. The log pose was supposed to take four days to reset, so there was plenty of time for errands later. You yourself planned on joining the other commanders for the drinks that they were apparently going for - it sounded like fun, and it meant more time with your new bestie, Heat. Of course, you didn't know that they meant drinks at a brothel, you wouldn't know that till later.

Finally the gangplank was dropped and the commanders made their way down it first, eagerly heading into town to find a comfortable inn to dump their stuff at before finding entertainment for the evening. The townspeople scattered wherever the crew walked, keeping clear of the notoriously deadly Eustass Captain Kid and his crew of dangerous pirates.

“Am I staying with you, Heat?” You asked innocently but with a suggestive smile on your face, as the commanders filed into a decent looking inn. You were clinging to Heat's arm still trying to desperately zap any warmth you could get from him. He always ran so hot, no doubt something to do with his fire breathing abilities. He shifted uncomfortably at the question.

“Uh, no, you'll have your own room,” he replied anxiously, worried about hurting your feelings.

“Oh?” You gave him a sad pout, “you don't wanna fool around with me tonight? Maybe someone else will then,” You let go of Heat's arm and flittered over to Killer, linking your arm with his playfully, “what about you Kil? Wanna take the ol’ Yin-mobile for a spin?”

Killer pulled his arm away and shook you off, shoving you back towards Heat, “No thanks, I planned on actually getting laid tonight, not pussy footing around”

“Boo, you whore,” you sulked, linking your arm with Heat's again, “I'm guessing that's your plan as well then, Heat,” your voice was sad, a little hurt at the rejection. It's not like you were together or anything, but it hurt anyway. You suddenly felt like you weren't enough, and it made you feel silly for not going the whole way with him, maybe then he wouldn't be spending the night with someone else. He sighed as he observed your forlorn expression and his breath formed a swirling cloud of condensation in the air.

“Actually, Kid suggested we get you your own woman,” he said, “if that's something you'd be interested in”

You stopped dead in your tracks and looked straight ahead of you, blinking in confusion. The other commanders noticed your pause and all stopped to stare at you quizzically.

“My own woman?” you asked, not looking at anyone in particular.

“Yeah, for um-” Heat started.

“For fucking,” Kid finished for him, “so Heat can have a fucking break, you goddamn rabbit”

“If that's something you'd want,” Heat added quickly, “you don't have to if you don't want to”

“I'm… I don't know,” you mused, “I've never thought about it”

“Never thought about getting a whore, or a woman?” Wire asked.

“Uh.. both?” You pondered, “I mean, I guess women are… very attractive?”

“Well, lets just see how things go tonight then,” Heat told you, grabbing your arm and forcing you to continue making your way into the inn before they could all freeze to death out in the snow, “if you like the look of anyone tonight just let me know, I'll sort it out for you. We're gonna drop our shit here, then we'll go find somewhere to pick up some ladies”

The place you all ended up going to was at least reasonably classy. It was rustic, like the rest of the town, with a large central fireplace that kept the room comfortably warm. The establishment was filled with booths, all occupied by men, mostly sailors and pirates, with scantily clad ladies climbing over them. Some of them were even making out and shamelessly dry humping in public, not that you minded the show. It was alluring, and you found yourself feeling hot as you watched the various couples with curiosity. You were sure you were the only non-working woman here, and commanders stayed noticeably close to you, like they were keeping themselves as a wall between you and any strange man who might get the wrong idea about your place here. The brothel was only a few doors down from the inn they'd chosen, making it a convenient location, especially if you decided to head back on your own after all.

The commanders found a large booth, and several very busty women came rushing over to take orders and make their introductions. It wasn't long before most of the commanders had women fawning over them, a few of them opting to leave the booth to entertain the women who'd caught their eyes at the bar or in more private corners, or even leaving with the women as quickly as they'd arrived, overly eager for a lay. Kid disappeared back to the inn fairly quickly, a curvy woman giggling on his arm as he hid her from the snow under his thick coat. You sat awkwardly at the edge of the booth with Heat and Killer, who both hadn't seen anyone they fancied yet. Unfortunately for both of them there was a deficit in lilac haired whores in the building tonight.

Heat excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving just Killer and yourself at the booth, when a beautiful dark haired woman came gliding over towards the booth. You spotted her immediately, noticing her large breasts that threatened to break out of her low cut shirt and her deliciously thick thighs. She, likewise, had noticed you the second you walked in - women who weren't here to work were a rarity in this particular establishment, and judging by the protective manner your crew hovered around you, she knew immediately that you were one of them, and definitely not here for work. You sighed and ran your finger around the rim of your glass as you prepared to be the only one left at the booth, making the assumption that she was coming over to talk to Killer, when you felt the woman's warm, soft body pressing against you. You quickly shimmied along the seat, making space for the stranger, but she followed along, keeping her side pressed to yours.

“You look so lonely, beautiful,” the woman mused, turning so she was sitting sideways in the booth, her knee bumping against yours and her breasts pressing against your arm. You swore you could see a peek of her arreola with the way her dress was cut, a waist cincher pushing her already large breasts up to form large round mounds. You had to forcibly remove your gaze from them, the little voices in your head telling you to smash your face into them. “Saw you come in with your pirate friends, what's a sweet thing like you doing with a rough set of boys like that?”

“Uh, I like killing,” you spurted out nervously, it was the first thing that had come to your mind, and you weren't good at filtering your thoughts on a good day, let alone when you were nervous. Killer almost choked on his drink from across the table at the blunt reply.

“New to this, huh?” the woman noted, looking briefly at Killer with an amused smile then back to her current muse.

First timers were something most women in this profession were used to and experienced with, it was easy to gauge your level of anxiety and curiosity as you tried your best to pretend you weren't ogling her tits. Though, she had to admit, a female first-timer was not something she'd encountered often. Usually they were sweet little cabin boys, dragged in the second they came of age, their captain paying for a whore as a birthday gift since these men always seemed to have some sort of silly notion about laying with a woman being some sort of right of passage, even if they weren't sexually interested. On several occasions she'd simply sat in private with the boy, letting them tell anyone they pleased that he had ‘done the deed’ so he could continue to mask his true sexuality till he was comfortable with it. You looked about 25 though, so that clearly wasn't the case here, not to mention the glaringly obvious fact that you were definitely not a cabin boy.

“You've killed a lot of men then?” she continued, brushing a fingertip up your thigh. Killing didn’t bother her, most of her clients were pirates, it came with the territory. You shivered a little at her touch.

“Hundreds,” you quickly replied.

“Yeah, how do you like to do it?” the woman was sliding her whole hand up your thigh now as you spoke, and pressing her breasts harder against your side. You looked to Killer like he could save you from the unbearable nervousness you felt as your cheeks started to get hot. You cursed Heat for abandoning you in your time of need, so much for him ‘sorting it' for you.

“Um, I uh-” you stuttered, “I like blowing their heads off with my devil fruit”

“Oh, fascinating,” the woman purred, entirely unphased by the graphic description of violence, “a devil fruit user, huh? What kind of fruit?”

“I can um.. manipulate wavelengths like um sounds and colour and um make vibrations,” you nervously rattled out. The woman stopped dead in her tracks at the last word and shot Killer a knowing glance like she'd just tripped over an unguarded treasure, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively at him.

“Vibrations huh?” the woman purred, “can you make them in small spots? Just enough to feel, not damage anything?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied innocently, taking the woman's hand and making pleasurable vibrations on it, happy to show off your abilities if it meant not having to find coherent answers anymore. The woman's mind went directly to the gutter and her eyes widened.

“That's a neat trick, I like that,” she cooed, flipping her hand under yours so she could hold it, her other hand still high on your thigh. “My name is Delilah, what's your name sweetheart?”

“Yin,” you almost yelped as the woman slid her hand to the very top of your inner thigh, barely brushing a pinky against your core.

“Can I buy you a drink darling?” Delilah asked, “I'd love to talk some more about your devil fruit”

“Yeah, uh, just beer is fine,” you replied quickly, your entire body stiff and on fire as her index finger ran over your clothed slit.

“Coming right up, keep this seat warm for me won't you?” she purred before getting up and heading to the busy bar.

You let out a heavy breath the second she was out of earshot and sat in shell shocked silence. Heat reappeared and slid in next to Killer, having seen the woman leaving. The two of them looked expectantly at you from across the table.

“I- what was that,” you finally stammered.

“That was you picking up a woman,” Killer replied, his shoulders shimmying with silent laughter, “that was the most awkward thing I've ever seen, you don't even know what she was talking about with your fruit do you?”

“What thing with her fruit?” Heat asked.

“Yin, show Heat what you showed the girl,” Killer said, trying to suppress his laugh.

You held out a hand to indicate you needed Heat's, and when he placed it in your hand you sent through the same gentle vibrations you'd done to the woman. His eyes immediately widened. “Holy shit that woman is a genius, I totally fucking forgot about your ability”

“Can someone please explain what the fuck you're getting at before she gets back and I continue to look like an idiot?” you scowled.

“Okay listen carefully Yin, you know the spot I touch you that feels extra nice?” Heat asked very seriously.

“Yeah?” You replied anxiously, your eyes flicking to Killer, feeling a little awkward that he was here for this conversation.

“Do that to that spot, on her,” Heat said, “do all the things I do for you, and then do that”

“Oh.. okay?” you said, still not really understanding but you trusted Heat to not lead you astray, “oh god this is happening isn't it?”

“Relax, you'll be fine,” Heat reassured you.

“I take it this means you like women as well then?” Killer asked curiously.

“To be completely honest with you Killer,” you looked at Delilah who was on her way back to the table and then back to Killer, “I think I want to shove my face between those massive knockers till I suffocate myself with them”

“Yeah, that'll do it,” Heat laughed. Killer was having trouble keeping his laugh silent, the occasional audible wheeze escaping his mask. “Just be yourself and invite her back to your room,” Heat continued after he got his own laughing under control, “she'll no doubt do the rest”

“Okay, okay, just be myself,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, smiling to Delilah as she sat back down, “Welcome back beautiful!”

Delilah laughed at your enthusiasm as she shimmied in, sliding the beer in front of you and making her hand comfortable on your thigh again. It was clear to Delilah that you had never been with a woman, and there was nothing she loved more than breaking a girl in. Hell, she probably wasn't even going to charge you for it, she knew already that your pretty little ability was going to be payment enough.

Delilah slammed you against the bedroom door the second it closed, completely dominating the fiery kiss as you both pulled each other's clothes off piece by piece, throwing them haphazardly to the floor. You both had to tilt your heads pretty heavily to avoid the mask, but it was doable. You were doing your best to remember what Heat usually did to make you feel good but your mind was going completely blank, entirely fried by the incredibly sexy woman in front of you who was currently sucking on your tongue. The kissing paused for a moment by necessity to pull off shirts and you found yourself staring at the woman's tits with open astonishment.

“You're adorable,” Delilah laughed, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor, giving you an even better view, “can the mask come off, doll?”

“Um, not if you want me to do the uh.. the thing,” you stuttered, “my fruit is a little unwieldy, I need the mask to keep it under control”

“Sounds dangerous,” Delilah purred, pulling you to the bed and pushing you down to sit at the edge, before climbing on top to straddle your lap. She took your hands and put them over her breasts, and you gave them an experimental squeeze. She was impressed with your kissing abilities, but she knew that most first-timers needed direct guidance, often a virgin wouldn't even touch her unless she was direct like this. “Guess we better keep the mask on then. That's okay, I can work with that.”

You had been stripped down to your underwear just as Delilah had, and she ran a hand around to your back, unhooking your bra with one skillful motion. Your breasts seemed like sand dunes compared to Delilah's grand mountains, but she hummed in approval anyway, before pushing you flat and groping you gently, pressing kisses and delicate nips on your neck and collarbone, moving to rougher kisses and bites that would definitely leave a mark when you'd reacted positively to a few experimental ones. Delilah was always careful to take things in steps when it came to virgins, making small tests and never moving too fast, making sure you had time to understand and process what she was doing and read your body language accordingly. The last thing she wanted to do was give someone a bad first experience. She slid a hand down your torso, sliding just her index finger down your abdomen to the hem of your panties, before sliding under the fabric. She could tell by the way your thighs rubbed together that you were desperately craving her touch right where she knew you needed it.

She removed her hand and urged you to shimmy further on to the bed so she could kneel properly between your legs. She pulled the thong of your panties to the side before pushing your legs apart with hands on your knees. She spread your pussy folds apart carefully with her index and ring finger, and played with your exposed clit, a hungry expression on her face as she eyed your glistening centre. She was impressed with how wet you were for her already, it fueled her ego.

You bit back a moan as Delilah started to toy with you, it was different from what you'd had with Heat, he was experienced and skilled but this woman knew exactly where to touch and how to touch it. You were making careful mental notes, not just for how you'd touch Delilah but for how you'd touch yourself in future. Every act was a lesson in itself, all new and strange to you, and boy did you love to learn.

“Mmm, too much fabric,” Delilah hummed, leaving one last love bite on your neck before trailing kisses down your body, stopping briefly to tug on your nipple and run her tongue around it, before continuing her journey down. She hooked the waistband of your panties as she made her way down, pulling them off as she moved till she was able to remove them entirely. She was kneeling with her face between your thighs now, and as innocent and inexperienced as you were, you didn't know what she intended to do. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as the dark haired woman kissed and nipped your thin thighs, before finally nuzzling her nose against your folds and spreading your open with her hands. She admired your wet pussy for a moment, before looking back up at you and licking a fat swipe up your centre. You moaned and fell back against the bed, your back arching as Delilah started to suck on your clit and rub circles on it with her talented tongue.

Delilah took one of your hands and put it on her head, encouraging you to play with her hair, and you happily twisted your fingers through the raven locks, holding Delilah to you as she ate you out. It was like nothing you had ever felt before, messy and wet and near torturous with how good it felt, and when Delilah slipped a finger inside you, you thought for sure you were going to spontaneously combust with how hot you were. The sensations were intense and overwhelming as a second finger was added, zeroing in on your g-spot and pumping you with a firm pressure against it. You moaned and bucked, pulling Delilah's hair, which only served to make the woman moan and pump you harder, unknowingly playing into a kink of hers as you tugged hard on it.

Soon the coil in your abdomen was pulling tight, and your walls began to squeeze around Delilah's fingers. “Yes, fuck, give it to me,” Delilah near yelled, and you obeyed, cumming hard with an audible short spurt of liquid, wetting Delilah's waiting tongue and chin. She lapped it up gleefully, moaning into your pussy, the vibrations of her moan making you shiver. “Hnng, good girl,” she cooed between long licks up your slit. You whimpered and panted, confused at what had just happened. Delilah seemed to be acting like nothing was amiss though, so you decided to play it cool for now and ask Heat about it later.

When she felt you were entirely worked through your orgasm, she pulled her fingers out of you and ran her tongue up your body, ending in a hot, hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on Delilah's tongue and it made you shiver with arousal. You wanted to taste Delilah like that, licking your lips as you imagined your own tongue against her.

“Can I,” you panted, “can I do that to you?”

“Fuck yes, but you've never done it before right?” Delilah mused, already hatching a plan in her mind. You nodded shyly. “You said you can take the mask off if you're just not using your power anymore, right? So I'm guessing you have some seastone on hand somewhere?”

“Yeah, in my bag,” you replied curiously, not sure where this was going.

“Go get it baby, I'm gonna need your pretty face clear for what I want,” she purred. You scrambled off the bed to find your duffle, tearing the contents out to find your scrap of seastone, abandoning your mask on the side table as you returned to the bed. “Lay down for me sweetheart,” Delilah cooed. You excitedly returned to your previous spot flat on the bed.

“So obedient,” Delilah purred, “and look at those pretty [e/c] eyes,” she crawled up your body, kissing you deeply again before positioning herself so she was straddling your face. You looked up at her with wide eyes, you'd never seen a more divine view, and you could smell the arousal from Delilah's wet pussy hovering so close to your face.

“Stick out your tongue baby, I'm gonna ride it,” Delilah ordered, and you eagerly obeyed.

She lowered herself onto you, as you instinctively brought your head up to meet her, licking her experimentally and finding her to be slick and sweet on your tongue. Delilah let you be, letting you suck on her clit the way she'd done for you, and mimicking the way she’d rolled her tongue. Your arms found her thighs, moaning into Delilah's pussy as you pulled her down tight against you, suddenly over eager for Delilah to use your mouth. She took the hint and started rolling her hips, rubbing her clit against your tongue, while you gave the occasional suck to add to Delilah's pleasure. She was careful to go slow and gentle with you, knowing this was something entirely foreign to you, but she was delighted with how much you seemed to be enjoying yourself. Delilah's fingers wound tightly in your hair, your usual space buns falling loose now, and she held your head tight in place as she rode you. Soon she was close to her own peak, and she threw back her head and moaned, near drowning you with her gushing release. You moaned at the sudden erotic event and lapped at the juices dripping from Delilah like it was water in the desert.

When Delilah had gotten her fill she slipped sideways off of you, leaving you free to catch your breath and process the events. “You're pretty fucking good for a first timer,” Delilah panted.

“Thanks,” you giggled like a schoolgirl, “I think I learned a lot as well”

Delilah laughed and rolled over to kiss you, the combined taste of both of your arousals thick on your tongues.

“Let's sleep babydoll, it's getting late,” she cooed as she stroked your chin. You nodded in tired agreement and yawned. This was probably Delilah's only orgasm today, but after your earlier escapades this was maybe number 15 or 16 for you, and you were about ready to fall into a coma.

You both slid under the sheets and Delilah encouraged you to roll facing away from her, wrapping herself around you to be your big spoon. You settled in and quickly fell into a deep, satisfied sleep, the room's fireplace crackling quietly in the background while Delilah's soft breath tickled your neck.

Heat, who had a spare key for your room, snuck in as he had the last several mornings on the ship, it was becoming a bit of a routine at this point. Finding you alone he decided to climb into bed with you, ready to tell you all about the wonderfully large, curvy woman he'd ended up taking to his bed last night, but yelped in surprise when he found you entirely naked under the blankets. It shouldn't have been a surprise, being that he'd watched you leave with Delilah the night before, and it wasn't like he'd never seen you naked, he just didn't expect it for some reason. The yelp woke you, and you rolled over, annoyed that your incredibly lustful dream had been interrupted.

“Heeeeeat, what's wrong,” you mumbled as you nuzzled into him. Given the cold weather he was wearing a hoodie, a rare item for him given how hot he ran - though to be fair, everyone else in this town were wearing thick, heavy duty coats. Regardless, it was soft, and felt nice this soon after waking to squish your face against.

“You're naked,” he whispered.

“Yeah, and?” You said in your normal volume, “wait, where's Delilah?” You sat up suddenly realising the woman had disappeared in the night, much to your disappointment.

“She probably had things to do, it's almost lunchtime babe,” Heat laughed, “she must have done you real good for you to sleep this late. Did you have fun?”

“Mmm….” you mumbled, laying back down to resume your sleepy nuzzling. You smiled against his chest as you recounted last night's events, “she used her mouth on me and then she rode my face. I didn't know people used their mouths for that. Oh and… a lot liquid came out of me? And her?”

“Oh,” Heat smiled with realisation, “she must have made you squirt. It must have been good for her too, not every woman can do that, it usually takes a very intense orgasm to do. And the mouth thing is common, people use their mouths on men as well”

“Really?” you perked up, “do you think… maybe…”

“Hold your horses sweetheart,” Heat laughed at your eager curiosity, “you haven't even touched a dick yet, you're not ready for that. All in good time, okay?”

“Mmm..okay,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Oh, by the way, it looks like she left you a note,” Heat told you, rolling backwards for a second to grab a folded slip of paper from the side table, before rolling back to hand it to you. You looked at it blankly, chewing on your lip. “Well?”

“It's um… yup its a note,” you said nervously, opening it and staring blankly at the indecipherable symbols. Well, not entirely indecipherable, you knew some of the letters, but not enough to read the note fully.

“Aren't you going to read it? Or is it too dirty?” Heat laughed.

“Umm... too dirty, yup,” you forced a laugh. Heat grabbed the note, wanting to see what Delilah could have written that was so dirty that you wouldn't tell him, after just telling him you'd had your face ridden and been squirted on. He frowned when he found it to just be a simple callback note, with ‘call me, xoxo’ and a number.

“Yin?” He asked softly.

“Mm?” You knew what was coming but were trying to play it off.

“You can't read, can you?”

You looked at Heat with sad puppy dog eyes that screamed ‘defeat’. “Please don't tell anyone,” you begged, “only Killer knows, he's been teaching me”

“OH,” Heat realised, “that's what the two of you have been up to. I thought he was giving you cooking lessons or something”

“I mean, he wants too, I can't cook for shit either,” you half laughed, “that's how he found out, after he handed me a cookbook and I couldn't read what the fuck he wanted”

“And nobody else knows?” Heat asked.

“Just you and Killer,” you replied, “and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want people feeling sorry for me just cos I was too sad and abused to learn to read. I'm learning now, so I don't have to hide it forever. And Killer is a good teacher, we've only had a few lessons but I can already write my name and his name and your name and he taught me some important words like ‘poison’ and ‘danger’ so I don't accidentally off myself”

“Okay then, I won't tell anyone,” he gave you a reassuring kiss on the forehead before climbing out of the bed, “I wish you'd told me sooner though, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I could have started teaching you myself, I taught Kid and Killer to read after all.” He gave you a tender hug before finally letting go of you to climb out of bed, “Come on, I've been waiting all morning for you to wake up to run my errands, let's go get some lunch ladykiller”

“Fineeee,” you grumbled, “wait what did the note say?”

“It's her den-den number,” he said, slipping his discarded shoes back on, “she must have had a good time because she wants you to call for another hookup”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “I've never gotten a number before!”

“Well, there you go,” Heat smiled, pride in his chest swelling for you, “come on lazy bones, I'm hungry.” You giggled as he pulled you out of the bed. You quickly found a set of clean clothes and replaced your mask before following him out to lunch, a happy little skip in your step.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[tenebrous-academic]

About the previous anon. I agree that we did get something but felt like we didn't get anything (?) to indicate their relationship status. I'm not wording this correctly. I mean we know they've been together for a while, *possibly* spending the night at eo's, but at the same time buck haven't talked about tommy apparently? (Idk if it's just bobby or the 118).

It feels like they're still in the testing things out/dating area and not boyfriends just yet, which is fine really.

But I'm hoping the hospital scene is gonna be a step for them getting closer, tommy being there for buck to relay on and get the support and comfort from him. It's gonna be a waste not to use this scene to advance their relationship.

I really hope next episode provides some solid information as to their canon status too! But buckle up because I’m about to overanalyze the fuck out of the scenes we did get:

Based off of this episode, I think it’s safe to say they’ve been seeing each other for at least a few months. During the award ceremony it was mentioned the cruise ship disaster happened “last March.” I didn’t see anything showing what month it current is, but based off the wording we can at least assume enough time has passed for it to be considered last year and not “this March.” That gives the relationship at least 3-5 months depending on how long it took Buck to work up to courage to call Tommy for the first tour of the harbour.

Buck and Tommy have also been together long enough for Tommy to feel comfortable enough to talk about how he was treated by Captain Gerrard and, likely, how he behaved around Chim and Hen back then. I wish we could have actually seen that, as well as the scenes between Tommy, Chim, and Hen hashing things out to make sure there’s no bad blood, but all we have are these new interactions showing all of them as friends now and the past firmly behind them.

But!!! What we did get this episode!

Buck softly signing when he sees Tommy getting his award and beaming like a proud partner.

Buck and Tommy being in sync as they walk around the station together.

Buck giving his bitchiest glare to Gerrard and putting his body between his man and that piece of filth (Chim is iconic for that new nickname).

We also get Buck shown as Tommy’s family/loved one during the ceremony. A clear pattern is established with Hen getting her medal and Karen and the kids clapping, Chimney getting his medal and Maddie clapping, and then Tommy getting his medal and the camera panning over to Buck as he breathes deeply and glows in pride for Tommy. (I also acknowledge that Eddie is shown after Buck gets his medal, but the show has established that Eddie and Chris are family to Buck so I don’t think there’s anything to shippy about it).

He hasn’t talked to Bobby about it, and we don’t know if he’s been talking to anyone else, but we do know that it’s not a secret. That hospital kiss was his announcement and maybe he’s happy with that being the extent of it. I think Buck is the kind of person to keep his happiness to his chest a little bit longer to make sure that it’s his and not everyone else’s. Which I know goes against his past relationships and how he’s always talked about them - but Tommy feels different, so the way Buck would treat their relationship would be different too. It’s something he was to protect and nurture and he doesn’t feel the need to ask his family about it because he already knows the answers.

So, yeah, definitely not as much as I would have liked, but the pieces of their relationship ship we did get were pretty indicative of something solid and meaningful being built between them. I’m crossing every finger the finale gives us more though. We’re being given scraps and I think we’re all going a little feral over the lack of anything truly substantial.

[hirik0]

False Reality part 3

Ghost/Soap | Si-Fi AU

Subject Lieutenant Simon Riley Human space forece

Days in simulation: 6 SGD

Days till asserting: 6 SGD

The first time something relay strange happend since he passed out is when he listens to some really old song from the 2000s while doing push ups, still a very frustrating low amount of push ups.

Can't count the years on one hand

That we've been together

I need the other one to hold you

Make you feel, make you feel better

It's not a walk in the park

To love each other

But when our fingers interlock

Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it

They just came back from a mission where things gone to shit. Since Soap broke up with Sergeant Marvin Schneider he made it a habit again to stargaze from on of their favourite hidden spots of the HSS Churchill. He feels dumb for doing so the last 20 or so missions Soap did not show up to stargaze together so why should he this time? And still he stits here again for hours just in case sometimes checking their other spots before returning here. They are inthe orbit of a earth like planet and you have a fantastic few at the other planets and moons of this solar system. He's wearing just a old comfy sweatshirt and sweatpants. His face is hiden under the hood rested against the window while he looks at the scene in front of him. He nearly didn't hear the steps apraoching in this rally visited part if the base ship the 141 is stationed, thats why its so perfect to just watch the parts of the universe they are currently visiting. He needs a bit longer then he likes to reconiases the steps as Soaps. His heart beat fastens in exitment and a small amount of hope is filling him. The footsteps stop in front of him and Ghost has do to anything to not keep looking at the stars and not at Johnny. Nothing happens for a while and the hope is slowly ripped out if him by dread. What if Soap just goes what if their friendship didn't survive the 2 year shitt show realtionship Soap,just left 9 months ago. The only clue he has is Soap nervously tapping his feet in the ground and he finally moves his unmask face to look at Soap. The Sergeant is bitting his lower lip clearly thinking, his eye widen when he realises that Ghist is not wearing his mask. Ghost jsut pulls his legs closer to himself to make more space for Soap, an inventation from his site. Soap smiles at him before stitting across from Ghost in the opening. "You eh did this all the time the past two years?", Soap ask while looking out the window. "More or less", Ghost answers vaguely no need to tell Soap he rearrange his cabin so he can sit on his bed to watch the starts while resting his head against the glas. "I see", Soap just says sounding small. Ghost just has the tiniest smile on his face the happiness of them maybe doing this together again. Watching the stars together after a mission when they still to full of adrenalin from the mission, when sleep is not coming again, their is time to file before they are send down on a planet. The only reason Ghost keep doing it was because it rembered him who thinks use to be, when nobody ever thought that Ghost and Soap can't work together anymore, before the misunderstandings and jealousy nearly ripped the 141 a part.

And after all this time, I'm still into you

I should be over all the butterflies

But I'm into you (I'm into you)

And baby, even on our worst nights

I'm into you (I'm into you)

Let 'em wonder how we got this far

'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all

Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

They sit there for a bit more then a hour when Ghost notice Soap is shivering. It sometimes happens that Soap gets to cold when they are stargazing, no big deal usally, but now it kinda is a big deal. "Soap?", Ghost ask carefully they didn't spoke since the very beginning. Soap looks in his direction. "You're good?", Ghost ask more out of politeness they both know he don't have to ask. "Forgot how ass cold it is here", Soap complains rubbind his arms to get warmer. Ghost chuckels at this before streaching his legs and opening his arms in an unspoken invertation. A light blush is apearing on Soaps cheeks. Ghost swallows nervously afraid he steped over a line he didn't know existed. They don't do this anymore, haven't in nearly 3 years. Soap moves a bit hesitant before moving in between Ghost legs. A whole mount range is failing from Ghost shoulders when he feels Soaps back against his chest, maybe what they had is can be saved. To test the water Ghost closes one arm lose around Soap the other just he uses to place his head on. They stay like this for a while not knowing what to do hiw far the other allows this to go. "Ghost", Soap breaks the tense silence, Ghost just humms to signal he's listening. "Hug me like you mean it or don't do it at all", Soap says displeased with how thinks are in the moment but still offing a out. "That's an order Sergeant?", Ghost ask sarcastic can't stop the big smile. "Yes", Saop answers clearly nervous and unable to detect the sarcasm. Ghost just closes his arms around Soap placing lifting his chin a bit so Soap can tug himself under there if he wants. And Soap does putting his own arms over Ghosts slitting a bit down so he can rest is head against Ghost collar bones. "To your liking?", Ghost wispers in Soaps hair. "Perfect", Soaps says with a big smile that Ghost haven't seen in a long time. A warm feeling is spearding through Ghost chest realising that even they had two hard years he still feels the same about Soap and he has the feeling it's the same for the Sergeant. "Misst this", Ghost admitted in the now comfortable silence eyes growing heavy as he slowly relaxes. "Me too", Soap yawns cuddeling a bit more into Ghost. The calming heart beat of Ghost, of Simon slowly sing him to sleep.

'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all

Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

I'm still into you

I'm still into you

Ghost graons when the song changes, he has no idea what the fuck just happend. He just knows he lays face down on the mat he uses for exercise as if his arm just gave up mid push up. He turns around so he lays on the back, tears start to run down his eyes. That was the Soap that feels so familiar, the Soap he knows. With his big smile, bratty attitude, the bluest eye he ever saw, his stupid mohawk. He amount of feelings he expirence right now is overwhelming. So he lays there and crys for a while, before the logical parts of his brain are able to start working again. If mohawk Soap is the Soap he knows... who the fuck is this teacher Soap then? If teacher Soap is a imposter of some sort does this mean that Emma is infact his niece and not his daughter? What is with Price, Gaz, his family are they also not real? Something is wrong and he will figure out what. His first stop are the photos in the hallway. Family photos, Tommys and his graduation, Tommys wedding, Joseph birth and at various ages on family vacations. Then his blood freezes a photo of his father. Its looks like its at some sort of gala. It is a picture of his childhood he looks around 10. His father holding a trophy of some sorts, all of them with big smiles. He looks at his own warm big smile and he understands why his mum calls him sunshine now. It can't keep his rage, disgust and hatred at bay he's feeling. He finds a other photo of his father and his stupid shit band Bone Lickers. He takes the picture of the wall and throws it across the hall. He then taps all the other pictures with his father down bringing them in the kitchen. He thinks about just throwing all of them in the trash, while these arching head ache is flaring up again, that had him passed out nearly a week ago. He fights again the pain, while he rips his father out if all the pictures. Blood is dripping down as he's nose started to bleed before he passes out on the kitchen floor.

Simulation in critical condition Subject got sedated.

Recalculation needed

Integrating of other importent persone: Kate Laswell, Rodolfo Parra, Farha Karim, Alex Keller, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Graza

Meanwhile

Soap is angry nothing Ghost was missing for 6 SGD and they found nothing. Well besites a bunch of destroyed Soulless, after they needed 5 days to even find Gjost last location. Je fals on his bed face first while tears are gathering in his eyes. They just started to fix their relationship and now Ghost is MIA. They are curently flying to a black book research facility of the Human Intelligence Agency (HIA) delivering the Soulless corps and meaning with some of Laswells agents. It feels so pointless, he still trys to cling to what Gaz said no blood, so Ghost didn't die or got injured. It could mean he escaped unable to contact them and he he hopes that this is the case. Gjost survived worse then the Soulless trap, he digged himself out of a grave with a jaw bone for fucks sake. It still can't stop the tears running down Soaps face at the moment, the pain in his chest taht makes every breath hurt, the fear that is nesting in his bones. Price told him to not get his hopes up to much, but he dont even know if that can be possible. Every lead they followed needed in them having nothing again and still every lead gives hope rhat Soap needs to keep going. But after every dead end he is in his dark cabin crying, the fear of losing Ghost after they just started to repair their friendship pulling him down. Fear of being to late after wasting 2 years in a realtionship with a person he didn't even loved that much, that he missed the chance of having Simon for himself. The door to his cabin is opening and Gaz is looking at the heartbreaking picture in front of him. He talked Alex in to hacking the door to Ghost cabin so he can steal one of Ghost hoodies for Soap for a littel comfort. "Soap?", Gaz carefully ask in the room, getting no answer. He steps in wanting to quickly drop the hoodie but Soaps sobs let him rethink. He carefully sits on the bed running his hand through Soaps mohawk. "You think they already killed him?", Soap sobs out after several minutes of silence. A cold feeling is running down Gaz spine after Alex was allowed to told them some things regarding the Soulless after the briefing. "HIA found evidence that the Soulless try to turn certain enemy soilders in to Soulless and they think that Ghost would be a candidate for this", Gaz says. "Is that good or bad?" "Good." "How long do we have till its to late?" "They are.not sure they think it depends on the individual. And Ghost is a stubborn fucker so we have probably still time." Soap looks up from the pillow tears and snot running down his face. "Thanks Gaz", he just says before dropping his head again. Gaz pushes Soap a bit so make some space, feeling like he can't leave Soap like this alone. "You dont have to stay I'm just crying." "Soap, you're not 'just crying' you're having the worst time of your life. Let me stay for fucks sake." "No complaints about snot on your shirt then" "Fine."

[baelonthebrave]

spearmint and nicotine

sydney/richie [Ao3]

continued in salt fat acid heat

word count: 1,828

rating: gen

summary: Richie thinks about all the things that are difficult in his life and the one thing that's easy.

warnings: mentions of canonical suicide, post Season 2, angst

Kissing Sydney is easy.

It’s like letting waves crash over his head. Just giving in to the current. For once, not fighting.

It might be the only thing in his life that’s easy.

His job is difficult, but Richie tries to perform it with some ease - no, shit, he does perform it with ease. He memorises names like he’d swallowed a phone book, works out who’s an asshole and who’s not by the slope of their shoulders and the set of their mouth. 14 likes spice - don’t hold back, quick but readable on a slip of paper no bigger than a credit card, pressed into Gary’s hand to relay back to expo. Look people in the eyes, but don’t be too intense about it. Drop their names gently, like you want them to know you remembered but you’re not trying to show them you remembered. Manage the front. Manage the back. Just as important to keep the chefs happy as it is the diners.

Being a dad is difficult. He could live to be a thousand and he’d still wake up in a cold sweat, convinced he was doing a terrible job, and Eva would be a homeless crack addict or the next Mussolini, and it’d be all his fault.

Being Tiff’s something is difficult. He rolls his wedding band on his finger like Marcus rolls out pastry - meticulous and anxious and afraid. He can’t say she’s his ex-wife, it just lodges in his throat like a peach pit. He can’t resent her for saying she loves him. She wouldn’t be Tiff if her heart wasn’t two sizes too big.

Working with Carmen is difficult. Depending on the day, Carmen’s head is like ground beef, or a ship taking on water through a canon blast in the hull, or a fucking lit Molotov cocktail. And Richie loves him. Wants to forgive every wretched word he ever said in anger. Wants to reach into his chest and scrape out all the hurt. Wants to protect him the way a big brother ought to.

Missing Mikey is difficult.

Being the one left behind is difficult.

Every time he thinks about Michael on that bridge, he wants to scream at him, who the fuck do you think you are? You think you get to kill yourself? You’re just so special and your problems are bigger than everyone else’s? You think you get to make me bury you? He wants to hold him, kiss his hair, just stand there with the blistering wind stripping away his skin until Mikey stops shaking in his arms.

All of that is so difficult.

Kissing Sydney is easy.

They get a star - Sydney gets them a star. All night, her braids are whipping that way that they do when she’s moving like lightning. Carmen’s fucking yelling because he’s anxious - anxious about the star and anxious about checking his phone to see if Claire’s returned any of his calls. The kid never did know how to let people be good to him. Richie rides it out - busing, greeting, seating, breathing, four in, four out. Cousin, I need you to stop yelling or I might do something dumb like break your nose straight-

They get the star.

Sydney vomits behind the dumpsters. It’s something that still needs work.

He grabs her one of those fancy kombuchas from the walk-in. He doesn’t know if she drinks alcohol, but her dad is sober - could be a preference, could be a sensitive subject - and alcohol probably isn’t the best additive to the potent mix of adrenaline and cortisol running in Sydney's veins right now.

Pink grapefruit kombucha. She’s trying to pull herself together by the dumpsters when he presses the sweating bottle into her hands.

“Thanks,” she manages, peaky and sweaty. She twists the screw cap, swills kombucha around her mouth, then spits it out into her vomit puddle. Richie tries not to look at it - just because he’d cleaned up Eva’s vomit plenty of times before doesn’t mean he’s got an iron stomach. He watches Sydney in silence until he’s sure she’s not going to collapse or start throwing up again, taking small sips from the bottle.

“That was incredible,” he says, jerking his head at the entrance to the kitchen. “I knew you were special, but…” he let out a low whistle.

Sydney smiles weakly. “It’s not so impressive when the comedown is me dumping stomach acid out my mouth and nose.”

“Don’t feel bad about it. We can work on that,” he says, bravely resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose.

Sydney laughs, a little hollow. “Are we gonna do meditation? Deep breathing?”

“Uh, yeah,” Richie says. He lights up a cigarette and tugs at the tie around his neck. Tastes ash and feels a slow sense of medicinal calm drip into his blood. “I’ll become a Buddhist if it keeps you doing that wizardry you were doing in there. I’ll light incense, bang gongs-“

“Will you wear the robe? The orange robe?”

“The off-the-shoulder robe? Maybe flash a little tit? Fuck yeah, I’d do that.”

Sydney is snickering into her kombucha bottle now and it’s a sound that sets him on fire from head to heel. “You’d do that for me?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Convert to a religion I know nothing about and dedicate my life to your wellbeing? Shit, Syd, you’ve got to ask?”

She gives him a smile that’s bordering on soft, and she’s so beautiful when she smiles. Warm eyes, full cheeks. “I meant the tit flashing.”

It’s his turn to snort, and the smoke he pulls into his lungs on the inhale burns a little, but nothing like the way he’s burning up under her gaze, so aware of every nerve ending in his body. “Hey, they’re good tits.”

She’s laughing. Her hand falls on his arm, now-empty bottle swinging at her side. “Don’t wear the robe,” she says. “I meant it when I said I liked the suit.”

And Richie’s forty-five. He might be a moron and a jagoff, he might know jackshit about living a happy and fulfilled life, but he knows a come-on when he hears one. Knows what a beautiful girl with big brown eyes and a kind smile means when she lays a hand on your arm, tells you she thinks you look good.

Kissing her would be so easy.

But he doesn’t.

She doesn’t need it. Not right now. Not when she’s peaky and smells like kitchen, and he’s running on nicotine and fumes. The taste would be noxious. Tobacco and vomit and kombucha. Anyone could walk out here at any time and see them.

And maybe - if he’s very honest with himself - a part of him doesn’t want it. Because kissing her would be easy, and things would start to make sense. Because he would have to make some fucking decisions, and make some changes, because life would make sense and he would be happy. No more excuses. He would kiss her and this house of cards of excuses and fucking misery he’d built for himself would topple in the wake of the fucking lightning storm of Sydney.

He takes her hand off his arm, holds it in his own, and presses his lips to her knuckles. Her hand is a little cold in his. She gives him a funny look. Somewhere between smiling and frowning.

“Can I give you a ride home?” He asks. She shouldn’t be on the L if she was sick.

She raised a brow. “Depends.”

“On what?”

Her hand leaves his but only because she has to set aside her bottle and fix her bandana, pulling her braids over one shoulder.

Richie fights the urge to tell her he could have fixed her hair for her. Instead, he drops the stub of his cigarette into the dregs of her kombucha and listens to the hiss.

“Depends on whether you’ll kiss me at the door.”

Richie gets hit with a crest of stars not unlike what Sydney must have been feeling minutes ago when she was throwing up behind the dumpster. Meet me halfway. Kindle a flame. Do something easy.

Do something scary. Let go of the past - it had already given Richie everything it had to give. Tiffany, The Beef, Mikey - they were still there, still in his soul, in his bones.

The future was The Bear. It was steadying Carmen by the shoulder and patiently giving him love until he realised he was allowed to take it. It was holding Sugar’s baby and being Uncle Richie. It was Michelin stars and long nights and fear and rage and every emotion a human body could conjure, because you can’t ask for the astronomical highs without taking the deep, dark lows.

The future was Eva’s elementary school graduation. Algebra tests and soccer games and rapidly outgrown clothes. First boyfriend - or girlfriend. Falling out of love with Taylor Swift when she was an angsty teen, then rediscovering her later and having fond memories of her dad yelling along to Love Story at the Eras Tour in 2023. Anywhere she went, he wanted to be there.

My kid would like you, he wanted to tell Sydney. Because you’re smart, and you always say what you mean, but you’re also kind. You have such a big heart. You’re brilliant. You’re brilliant, and I don’t know if I’ll ever measure up. But I’d like to try. Fuck… yeah, I’d like to try.

He’d tell her one day.

“I could kiss you right now if you want me to,” he says plainly. Simply.

She glances down at his lips. “What’s stopping you?”

He tucks a braid behind her ear. “Toothpaste,” he says, and she grins, “or the lack of toothpaste, really.”

She’s laughing again. He could spend all day every day just making her laugh. “I have some in my locker. If I use it, will you drive me home?”

He takes a breath - deepest breath he’d taken all day - and nods. She nods back and slips past him to go finish closing, brush her teeth, grab her stuff.

Richie’s heart is thumping in his chest as he closes up front of house. He feels a little nauseous as he grabs his jacket and keys and spots Sydney waiting for him, surreptitiously taking congratulations and goodnights from Tina and Marcus and Ebra.

He turns around, pops his locker once more and takes a stick of Wrigley’s from a discarded pack, because he’d rather Sydney tasted spearmint than tobacco on his lips.

Months later, Richie would realise she didn’t throw up after hellish services anymore. He’d ask her how she managed it, if it was the deep breathing? Or was there a secret gong he didn’t know about in the walk-in? She’d just laugh, say no, no incense, no gongs, no Buddhist monks, and produce a pack of gum from her pocket.

From that night on, the taste of Wrigley’s gum was enough to bring Sydney down.

all likes, reblogs, comments massively appreciated ❤️

[department-of-landing-strategies]

So I saw a tumblr post on tiktok about Trevor (Neville's toad) being pulled out of the cup as "Trevor Longbottom" and like a totally sane Percy fan it got me thinking, what if Percy was also involved in this.

We start before the champions are chosen. Barty Crouch Jr manages to mess with the cup that's choosing the champions and puts Harry's name in. Meanwhile, a group of Gryffindor 7th year students joke about putting Trevor into the cup under Trevor Longbottom. Let's just assume that the magic involved in the cup means that it knows what students are in the school at the time the tournament is being hosted. Someone then puts Trevor in as Trevor Longbottom sometime between Harry's name being put in and the champion choosing. Since Trevor is a pet and not a student, it only gets registered as a possibility because of the meddling needed to make Harry's name come out as a 4th champion.

Cut to the champion choosing with Crouch Sr watching Dumbledore read out the champions that got chosen and Bagman in the side chamber that the champions go to. Since Crouch Sr is there, Percy is also watching Dumbledore read out the names the cup chose. Everything is going smoothly. Then the cup chooses a 4th champion, and turning out to be a 2nd Hogwarts champion when Dumbledore reads out the name "Trevor Longbottom". Obviously the teacher are confused and questioning if Alice and Frank had a 2nd boy. Majority of 3rd years and younger don't know who that this and some are curious who that is because the thing to remember is that Percy's to Ginny's years at least is small compared to the usual Hogwarts year size due to the 1st wizarding war so it's a lot easier to remember who's in what year if you really tried. The 4th years and up are either curious as to who it is or having varying reactions to the fact that Neville's toad just got chosen as a champion. The latter's mostly the Gryffindor table but it can be seen on the other tables such as Luna (a 3rd year Neville's friends with) and Penny (a 7th year whose heard about Trevor's antics from Percy) on the Ravenclaw table. Neville's just sat in shock because he's sure he didn't have anything to do with Trevor's name being pulled besides Trevor being his pet but he's going through his memory as quick as possible in case he did have something to do with Trevor being a 4th champion. Percy, meanwhile, very quickly gets over his shock of Tervor being pulled and gets to work trying to convince his boss to move on without mentioning the fact that Trevor is a toad for reasons I don't have the energy to come up with rn before Neville has to bring his toad up to the teachers area of the Great Hall. Crouch Sr having had a son concludes that Trevor is a friend or lover of Percy's that's currently sick because why else would his assistant cover for someone that failed to show up for a mandatory feast. Ultimately, he moves on while entrusting Percy to relay the rules of the tournament and the contents of the magical contract binding the champions to their participation in the tournament (which Percy later offers to share with the 3 human champions chosen) to this Trevor person.

Cue a Percy and Neville centric A-Plot of this au version of GOF featuring a friendship forming between Percy and Neville, Crouch Sr finding out that Trevor is a toad sometime between Rita's interviews and the First Task, sirens going off in someone's head about Percy being put in charge of the tournament and the consequences of Trevor being entered into the tournament for both Percy and Neville. The B-Plot is Harry just having a semi regular school year while Crouch Jr is coming up with ways to get Harry into the graveyard to resurrect He-Who-Only-Feared-Dumbledore. If we want to add shipping for Percy, then I would say the main four options are the champions and Penny. Obviously, there are other options, but I think the champions and Penny are the most obvious. We can maybe even throw Neville having a crush on Percy that could maybe turn into something post-Hogwats depending if we go past GOF into the shipping pot as well

[st-writes]

It was Now or Never

ME2, A buildup to the Romance Scene, Garrus POV)

It was now or never.

The one good thing about the whole crew having been abducted was that no one was in the mess to witness him start out from the battery about a half dozen times before he made it all the way to the elevator. The one good thing about being a nervous wreck is that you could find “one good thing” about the whole crew being abducted without delving into what a callous thought that was. Sure, they may be in agony, dying or— worse— but Garrus was about to make a fool of himself, so who got the bad end of the deal, really?

She’d asked. She’d asked! Weeks ago and light years away, but she’d asked. The list of excuses he’d made to put it off was longer than the length of the Normandy, but this was it. They were on their way to the Omega-4 Relay, It was now or never.

He stepped off the elevator and stared at her door. Maybe he should’ve messaged ahead. He could still message ahead— right now—but then he’d be right there. Maybe he should go back down to the battery and message ahead.

“Shepard is currently indisposed.“ Garrus nearly jumped out of his plates as the voice of the ship’s AI suddenly filled the cabin foyer. “But if you’d like to wait for an audience, you may do so inside.”

“Uh, thanks, EDI,” he drawled uncertainly. The thought of what EDI might know- and how its unshackling might change its interpretation or reaction of whatever data it had sent a shiver down his carapace.

“This, uh, meeting… Are— do you monitor…” He cleared his throat. “Could we have some…privacy?”

“Of course. Without the crew, I am running more tasks than usual. I would be happy to devote more processing power elsewhere.”

“Great! Great.” Great? “Not—I don’t mean-“ Was he really afraid an AI was going to judge him for lack of empathy? “Thanks,” he muttered, and gestured the cabin door open.

He half hoped to find Shepard on the other side, just to get it over with. But no, the cabin was as empty as its decorative tanks. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.

The muted hum of a fan and wet percussion of running water from the bathroom made it easy to work out what EDI had meant by “indisposed.” Hopefully it wasn’t a cold shower—he was pretty sure he remembered some human idioms about those. He’d done his own preening earlier, but didn’t imagine hers was for the same reasons. If it was? No, he couldn’t think about that. It put his heart in his throat.

He took another deep breath. “This is good,” he muttered to himself. “You’ve got time to set up. To set the mood…” Garrus looked around. The cabin was already a little on the dim side. Taking the lights down any further could trip her up when she came out— or put her on alert. Not the way he wanted to get her adrenaline going.

Music, though… Syncing his headset with the room, he scrolled through the list of options he’d compiled earlier. There it was— “Crested Waves,” a piece from the Vaenia soundtrack. He hadn’t seen the movie himself, but the soundtrack was good. “Blue Azure” was in regular rotation to pump him up during missions. “Crested Waves” was a more intimate track—not great for battle, but… He wondered if Shepard knew it. Vaenia was popular with the humans, he’d heard. Not so much with the Asari, but Liara was a “pureblood” so—

Oh. Not Crested Waves, then.

Bittersweet asari vocals cut away to a building thrum of percussion, soon overlaid by a bouncy electronic refrain. Not the most romantic track, but upbeat. It was a favorite at Flux for a few years, and could have conceivably been playing when they all went for celebratory drinks after kicking Saren’s ass. He could conjure the memory of her, smiling, bathed in red lighting from the bar, the ends of her hair sticking to her skin, caught in the trails of dancing-induced sweat. It was probably the first and last time he’d seen her completely relaxed. Perfect.

Now. Where to greet her? Her office area was a no-go. It was too close to the bathroom door, too in her face, and there was nothing relaxing about the mess of pads and papers strewn across her desk.

By the tanks? The light was nice, but also would come from behind. His silhouette might be more intimidating than inviting. He looked to the right, where her bed seemed to demand attention. No, absolutely not. Too forward, to presumptuous. The single chair next to it wasn’t much better.

Couches below her model ship collection seemed like his best bet. The lighting coming off the case was a little harsh, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be directly visible when she came out, but there was a table for the wine and the seating seemed neutral.

Setting the wine down, he sat himself at the far end, shifting until he found a comfortable, casual position. He pulled at a few wrinkles in his suit. It wasn’t the one he’d bought for the occasion, but when it came time the black and white outfit looked a little too somber.

When it came down to it, they were making themselves a distraction from everything else. He wanted to keep it light, relaxed. And if it wasn’t— well, a horrible inter-species awkwardness thing could be a distraction too.

Did humans usually shower this long? Or was his anxiety just stretching time? ...Was that her old helmet on her desk? That was grim. He got up and turned it toward the wall. Would she mind him touching her stuff?

The sounds of the shower had faded beneath his music, but the hiss of the opening door sounded like it was right at his ear. He put the helmet back best he could and scrambled back to the couch, trying to slip back into the casual pose he’d settled on before.

Shepard came into his view at the top of the steps. Her short hair was damp, falling more heavily into place behind her ears, where she pressed at it with a small white towel. She looked... fresh... and clean... and completely unaware of him. He should have messaged ahead. What was he doing? What had he done?

He stood up. It was now or never.

The music cut out, and Shepard turned her perplexed frown from the panel beside her to him. Her eyebrows shot up, clearing her cloudy expression. “Hey.”

Shit.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Hammer and the Anvil ( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )    

“Retreat!?”

Several of the bridge crew turned at the admiral’s raised voice before a look for their captain had them return to their duties. With the enemy fleet now fully assembled before the Coalition Armada there was more than enough work for each of them to attend to.

Troy Brakus was a seasoned captain serving the Terran navy for thirteen years with the last five aboard his own vessel the “Unruly Yeoman”. She had fought everything from opportunistic space pirates to despotic warlords carving out their own tiny petty kingdoms amongst the stars. There wasn’t a vibration or groan that her ship made that he did not recognize nor crew member he did not know. This ship was his home and at the moment it looked very much like it was about to be blown to pieces.

Having been a member of the Galactic Coalition of Star Systems, the Terran navy had been dragged into the recent conflict with the Genven Imperium. This outcome had hardly been a surprise to anyone as the Genven had been launching an increasing number of raids along the border for the last year until finally the Coalition had had enough and made an official proclamation of war to halt the incursions.

What they had not counted on was that Coalition intelligence had been drastically underestimating the Genven’s naval strength. So when the Coalition united fleet entered Genven territory they were met by an enemy war fleet three times their size. A notion the supreme admiral of the fleet had certainly noticed as they were now issuing a fleet wide retreat order.

“We are outnumbered 3:1 Admiral Kelly,” the supreme admiral said over a communication link, “if we stay here we will lose the entire fleet.”

“And if we retreat we deal a crippling blow to the Coalition’s morale and hand the Genven’s the initiative!” Admiral Kelly countered.

Admiral Kelly Winfeld was the overall leader of the Terran contingent of the Coalition navy which had allocated fifteen warships and twenty seven cruiser and smaller class vessels to the coalition fleet. No other commander outside of the supreme commander could issue orders to the Terran navy, and even then it had been an unofficial understanding that said orders would only be listened to if they had Admiral Kelly’s blessing. Which was making the current disagreement all the more dire.

“Numbers does not always guarantee victory,” Kelly continued, “we can still win this battle if we use our heads and out maneuv-“

“You have your orders Admiral Kelly!” the supreme admiral cut in forcefully. “If you are unable to comply you shall be stripped of your rank and-“

The transmission suddenly was cut off and the hologram of the supreme admiral faded away instantly. Captain Brakus took his hand off his command console and looked up at the Admiral.

“Your orders, ma’am?”

Standing up straight and adjusting her uniform, Admiral Kelly turned around to Brakus and grinned.

“All ships line up behind the Unruly Yeoman and divert all power to forward shields and engines.” She pointed at the heart of the Genven fleet which was now spreading out in a large crane formation in the hopes of surrounding the Coalition fleet before it could withdraw.

Captain Brakus relayed the orders to his crew as the power diversion to shields began. The lights flickered as each station called out that the power had been successfully diverted and shields now were at 300%. Taking a look at the tactical display he could see that while the rest of the coalition fleet began pulling away the Terran contingents were following the Admiral’s orders and forming up behind the Unruly Yeoman.

The last ship had entered the formation just as the first volley of enemy plasma lances impacted the fleet. A number of coalition ships were struck in the rear and suffered critical engine failures or outright exploded.

“Engines to full,” Admiral Kelly shouted as the shields endured another barrage, “make for the center of their fleet!”

“All ahead full.” Captain Brakus relayed and the Unruly Yeoman slowly pressed forward at the head of the Terran navy.

“We have a communication incoming from the supreme admiral.” The communication officer shouted across the bridge as another salvo struck the shields sending a shudder through the ship.

“Ignore it.” Admiral Kelly said as the Terran line continued pressing forward.

The amount of incoming fire was steadily increasing as the Genven ships began to find their mark. Each impact sending increasingly violent shudders. At the front of the column were all of the heavier ships were in the front soaking up the majority of the damage while the smaller escort vessels clung tightly behind them for protection.

“Do we have an actual plan?” captain Brakus inquired as the fleet pressed ever closer to the center of the Genven formation. “I’d rather not end up like the light brigade.”

“We needn’t worry about that unfortunate debacle.”

She pointed to the tactical chart. Coalition forces were making all speed towards the edge of the system while the Genven fleet was still in hot pursuit.

“Now that we’re between their wings they can’t fire on us since any deflected or missed shots will hit their own forces.”

Brakus nodded as he realized why the admiral had ordered power to the shields and engines. “So only the center formation can still attack us freely.”

He looked up from the display to see the center of the Genven fleet steadily becoming larger in the view screen as was the looming dreadnought that housed their command staff. It was the easiest to spot as it was twice as big as any of the surrounding vessels and dotted with nearly three times as many gun ports.

“So are we going to eliminate their command?”

To his surprise the admiral shook her head. “Even if we did wipe out the center the two wings would still be enough to wipe out the rest of the coalition before turning around and snatching us.”

She tapped the tactical display as if counting down to some event only she knew. “We need to destroy their formation in a way that causes enough chaos to break their momentum and give our own forces enough time to counterattack.”

“Captain.” One of the deck officers interrupted. Brakus turned to see the officer motioning to the proximity warnings now displaying as the Genven ships were rapidly approaching.

Brakus nodded to the officer and turned back to the Admiral.

“If you have a plan, now would be the time.”

Without missing a beat Admiral Kelly finally stopped tapping the tactical display and shouted “All ships hard to port!”

As one the entire line of terran ships broke off what many appeared to be a suicidal charge and steered headlong into the right wing of the enemy fleet that was still chasing after the Coalition.

“Divert power from shields to forward batteries; fire when ready!”

Brakus could hear the thrumming of the energy planets as they once more diverted power across the ship on a whim and watched as the first plasma lances from the forward cannons lashed out.

The Genven right wing had been so focused on catching the retreating Coalition forces that the sudden attack from the Terran navy blindsided them. They had expected the humans to smash themselves against the center of their lines but now faced massed fire from dangerously close quarters. A few of the ships attempted to divert power back to their shields but at such short distances the plasma lances were already carving through their hulls.

Like a hot knife carving through butter the Terran navy decimated the right wing, separating the forces almost in two as the forward elements aborted their forward charge and the rear elements found themselves crashing into the burnt remains of the destroyed ships the Terran’s left in their wake.

Several of the bridge crew let out a hearty cheer as the gun batteries across all decks adding nicely to their ever growing kill count until finally they broke through the line entirely. Brakus was about to ask for next orders but the admiral beat him to it.

“All ships hard to starboard now, come up behind the center; target engines and rear emplacements first then work your way down through critical systems.”

Brakus relayed the orders to his crew as the Terran navy came about once more and poised themselves to strike at the rear of the center Genven fleet.

Already their attack was causing the desire chaos the admiral had wanted as the left wing of the Genven fleet was breaking off their pursuit of the retreating Coalition forces to come turn and face the Terran forces. The center was likewise positioning themselves to track the Terran fleet but finding their progress slowed by how packed together they were.

“Coalition forces are turning around Captain.” The scanning officer called out followed swiftly by the communications officer.

“The Supreme Admiral is hailing us again and is demanding to speak to you admiral.”

“Tell him to take a number,” she said with a smile as the opening salvos against the center fleet started, “I’ve got a battle to win.”

[fanaticsnail]

Daughter of the Sea: Chapter 3

Masterlist Here, Header Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,500+

Synopsis: Being called to a small island in the east blue, you enjoy a day out with your five-year-old niece. Her line of questioning has you question some moments yourself, your checkered past revealed to her in no uncertain terms.

Themes: Unrequited requited love, slow burn, long fic, long distance relationship, friends to lovers, found family dynamics, love over time, (smut, mdni 18+, NSFW - chapters will be marked accordingly), love-making, angst, hurt, gendered terms used, swearing, adult language. 

Notes: Benn Beckman x f!reader, platonic!Mihawk x f!reader, platonic!Shanks x f!reader, slight mention of MiShanks ship, Beginning: Shanks is 19, Mihawk is 23, Beckman is 30, f!reader is 22, Uta is 2 months old for the sake of the plot (canonically she's 2 years old). The f!reader is suggested to be native to Kuraigana with her mannerisms and language.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @indydonuts

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

The next three years flew by, each of you experiencing the time catching up with you. Uta was now a small five-year-old, Shanks was no longer a teenager, and you were rapidly approaching your thirties. 

Each time you were called to get an update on your niece, you smiled at the information given to you. Benn Beckman was always on the other end of the transponder, his yearning and longing from afar only growing in fondness for each moment that stretched between you. 

He had begun sending you trinkets alongside his letters: a shell from the Red-Force's new birth port, a small bottle of rum he purchased to drink with you of an evening over the shell. He'd send you pressed flowers, sweet-smelling perfumes, and he'd even begun sending you jewelry. 

He would never explain the gifts to you, just uttering a simple: “Uta said you needed it,” or “Uta wanted to buy it for her ‘Pretty Aunty'.” You had an inkling that Beckman was using Uta as an excuse to buy you pretty things, but chose to remain silent. Considering Beckman had never lied to you, you couldn't quite gauge how he was able to do so now. 

Mihawk had also opened up over the years, sending several gifts here and there for Uta, all symbolic of Kuraigana and who he was to her: her favorite uncle from the land of gloom. 

It was well past ten o’clock in the evening when your personal shell shook with a lively bounce, prompting you to get out of your settled position in your bed suite and gather it. After placing it in your ear, you were not expecting to hear soft sobs falling into the receiver end of the call. 

“Pretty Aunty?” a small voice whimpered from the other end. You immediately sat upright in your bed, glaring at your wall as you answered. 

“Uta, is that you my love?” you asked her. She responded with a soft sniffle, biting back a sob as she continued to talk into your shell. 

“C-Can we have girl time?” her soft song called on your heartstrings, prompting you to begin readying yourself to flee from Kuraigana to come to her aid. 

“Sweetheart, where are you?” you asked her, slipping out of your nightdress and pulling on your traveling clothes. 

“It's in the east-blue,” she whimpered into the mouthpiece, “Dawn Island, Foosha Village in Goa Kingdom.” 

You began gathering a satchel bag, hurriedly placing a few of your essentials within the canvas and slinging it over your shoulder, “Talk to me, Uta. Tell me what's going on so I can get ready to see you.”

“I just miss my favorite pretty aunty,” she wailed, “And I want you to be here with my favorite uncle. I want you both together.” You hesitated, looking at your clock face to read the time and current date. 

“Oh, sweety. I don't think Mihawk will be back-,” you attempted to relay while fastening your shoe, but Uta never gave you the chance to finish that sentence. 

“-Not Uncle Mihawk,” she sniffed, hardening her resolve, “I want you with Uncle Beckman. He misses you so much, and it's really hard to watch.” 

You dropped your shoe, your foot falling onto the floor as you adjusted your earpiece. Hastily recovering, you slung your satchel over your shoulder. 

“Gorgeous girl, I don't know what you-,” you began, again halted by Uta's hardened determination. 

“-He misses you so much, Pretty Aunty,” she hurriedly spat. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she inhaled through her nose and continued, “He thinks about you all the time. He always asks me what I think you'll like, and makes me choose things to buy you.”

You smile at this knowledge, shaking your head before collecting your thoughts and relaying your words. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you hummed at her, sighing and shaking your head, “Uncle Becks and I are very good friends. I miss him too, sometimes.”

“Then why don't you come with us?” She whined, “Why do you always stay with Uncle Hawk all the time? Are you and Uncle Hawk married? Captain Shanks says the only way a pirate makes a home on land is sometimes when they find someone they like enough to marry.” 

You bit back the urge to laugh, struggling to contain a few escaped snickers. 

“Sweet pea,” you inhaled a deep breath, “Uncle Hawk is the world's greatest swordsman. He stays here at Kuraigana to hold that title, and because it's his home.”

“Did you marry Uncle Hawk, Pretty Aunty?” she asked sternly. You could tangibly feel the holes she was burning into you through the transmitter, the rage of the five year old physically scorching you. 

“Uta, I work for Uncle Hawk,” you informed her, calmly, “I live in Kuraigana with him to make sure he's safe. Also, between us girls,” you draw the mouthpiece in closer, “Uncle Hawk gets very lonely.”

“But I’m lonely,” she uttered with somber defeat, “There's only men here, and I need girl time!” 

You giggled, taking out a piece of parchment from your desk drawer, and hastily scribbled on tanned note paper. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” you finally inform her, “If I sail for two full days, without any sleep,” you smiled into the snail, “I’ll be in Goa Kingdom before you know it.”

“Yes!” She exclaimed gleefully, “I'll tell Captain Shanks! I'll tell the crew! Uncle Becks will finally stop being so sad all the time!” 

“Uta, please,” you hurriedly attempt to snuff out the growing embers of her joy, “You can tell Captain Shanks, but can we try to keep it a surprise?”

“Oh, like a secret?” Uta asked you, her curiosity ticking up in her cadence. 

“No, sweety,” you giggled, “Secrets are to be held forever, surprises are to be revealed later.” She hummed at that explanation, opting to instead elevate her spirit once more. 

“Okay, okay, Pretty Aunty,” her voice began buzzing once again in excitement, “We’ll be in Goa for maybe another week. I am so happy you're coming!” 

Making your way to the front door, you hung your note depicting your absence from Kuraigana to Mihawk should he arrive back to the high-keep before you. Exiting the castle, you readied your personal sailboat and began the tireless journey of traveling, sleeplessly, for two full days. 

In those two full days, Uta had never been so excited. The entirety of the Red-Hair crew noticed the subtle jump in her step, the hum in her voice and the smile on her lips. By the time midday managed to hit its peak, she rushed down to the docks with a thundering pace. 

“Oi, Uta!” Hongo called after the child, immediately turning from his reclined position and racing after her. It was his turn to watch over the child, and this was a job he took absolutely seriously considering her tendency to sprint. 

It was no use calling after her, Uta picking up her pace and propelling her body like a cannonball fired from a barrel. Hongo was breathless when he reached the peer, his eyes widening when Uta jumped into the arms of a crouching woman, hooded and cloaked. 

“Pretty Aunty!” Uta cried, burying her face in the crook of your shoulder and sobbing loudly. 

“Gorgeous Girl,” you hummed down at her, your eyes closed and lifting her to your standing height, “You're getting so big now, but I can still lift you like this.”

Uta continued sobbing into your shoulder, her smile burried against your neck as you soaked in her embrace. Fighting back a release of emotion yourself, you gulped back your sob and opened your eyes to see the shocked face of the Red-Hair Pirate, Hongo. 

“Doctor,” you hummed at him, your sultry voice smiling at him. 

“Secretary,” he blinked back his surprise with a small smirk, “Captain know you were coming?”

“I'm not certain,” you admitted, looking down at the emotional child in your arms, “Sweetheart, did you tell your Captain I was coming?”

“Mm-mmm,” she shook her head in denial, “A surprise.” You sighed an “Ah,” in response, smiling back up at Hongo. 

“Evidently not, Doctor,” you nodded with a soft shrug, “Why don't we go and tell him all together, hm?” Uta nodded into your chest, kicking her legs lightly and wriggling in your arms. 

“Let's go!” She squealed, grabbing at your hand and prompting you to hurry after her. Hongo huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head and trailing behind you. 

As you approached the tavern at the top of the hill, laughter and clinking of glasses reverberating within the wooden walls. Uta released your hand, rushing in towards her red-headed adoptive father and tugging at his white shirt. 

Shanks lay leaning on the bar, laughing at a joke told by Yassop and clapping him on the shoulder. He turned down to the child, who clutched at the base of his shirt and yanked for him to stoop to her level. 

You took a moment to look around the tavern, noticing a green haired hostess scuttling around the room and tending to collecting tankards and empty bottles. You turned to see Lucky Roux diving into a large smoked lamb leg, Hongo tapping him on the shoulder and informing him to slow down to ease digestion. 

Several of the red-hair crew were scattered, all men entertaining a coupling counterpart aside from both Yassop and Shanks who remained conversing with Uta. Your gaze scanned over the room, finally halting on the burly figure of the man you had conversed with for the past five years. 

Beckman hunched his body against the wall, his arm extended over his head as his eyes twinkled with flirtatious mischief. A woman coyly batted her eyelashes, hiding her giggle behind her hand at Beckman's words. He reached forward, tucking her hair behind her ear, an act that the woman playfully swatted away with her lips pursed in mischief. 

You shook your head with a soft smile, looking to your toes before turning your attention towards your adoptive niece and approaching her father in a slow and steady step. 

“Captain Shanks,” you uttered in a low voice, his head immediately spring up from Uta with his left hand clutching Yassop’s shirt. 

“P-Pretty lady,” he stuttered out, his body lunging forward. He staggered in his movements, collecting your left cheek in his right hand with his calloused thumb tracing a soft circle over your jaw, “Y-You’re here? Why are you here? Did something happen to Hawk-Eyes? Is he okay-?”

“-He’s fine, Captain,” you hushed him, raising your left hand to collect his right, “He's away from Kuraigana presently, off collecting some easy bounties to add to his hoard of treasures and to keep his skills sharp,” you removed his hand from your cheek, continuing to clutch it within your own, “And he's doing remarkably well.”

“Oh,” Shanks sighed in relief, before furrowing his brows in confusion, “But if he's thriving, why are you here?” Understanding his chain of reasoning, you smiled with tight lips before leaning in towards his face. 

“Uta called me on my personal transponder,” you uttered, pressing your lips against his cheek in a chase kiss, “Said she needed ‘girl time’ with her favorite aunty-.”

“-That’s not what I said!” Uta cried in frustration, breaking you both away from your trance and glancing down at the pearl and ruby-haired child. 

You softened your smile, pulling away from Shanks' cheek and crouching down in a low stoop to greet Uta. You claimed the young girl’s hands within your own, nodding to her for clarification. She gulps back her courage, hardening her features and grimacing. 

“I said I needed my Pretty Aunty to have girl time,” she pouted, glancing between your eyes and Shanks’ hazelnut orbs, “And that she needs to see Uncle Beckman because he's lonely and sad.”

Both you, Shanks and Yassop drew your eyes over to Benn Beckman as he stooped down to whisper into his companion’s ear. The three of you raised your eyebrows, all exchanging knowing glances between you as you watched his descent. 

As Beckman collected the woman's lips beneath his, her willing lips smiling against his as the kiss lingered on. Eyes widening at witnessing Beckman’s flirtatious advances collect it's due reward, you looked down at your niece who was glaring at him with utter anger. 

You shook your head at Uta, darting your eyes between hers and softened your expression further, turning her chin to meet her gaze. She continued to pout, frowning deeply at you. 

“Seems Uncle Beckman is not as lonely as you thought, sweet pea,” you giggled at her while scrunching your nose, “What would you like first?” Uta, her orbs looking up at you through thick red and white eyelashes, looked hopefully up into your eyes. 

“He told me he missed you!” Uta growled, looking to her dad, “Did Uncle Beckman lie to me? I thought he liked Pretty Aunty! He told me-.” You waved your hands, regaining your niece's attention with your genuine smile. 

“-What do you like to do on this island?” you asked her, tucking her hair behind her ear and giving her a playful dab on the nose, “I haven't been here before, and I would love to see some of the sights.” Uta lost her train of thought, eyes now filling with hope. 

“Can we go to the salon?” she squeaked out rapidly, “Do nails and hair? Maybe some makeup? Can we go shopping, get snacks and clothes? Can we-?” 

“-Uta, please!” Shanks huffed out a loud laugh, “Your pretty aunty has only just arrived, let her rest a bit before shooting questions at her.” You laughed alongside him.  

“Truthfully, Captain,” you rose from your crouch to meet your smile with his own at eye level, “I came here knowing what I was in for. With your permission, may I take my niece for the remainder of the day?”

“By all means,” he smiled at you, gesturing to the door with his right hand, “Enjoy what's left of the sun. And you,” he snapped his head over at Hongo, “You owe the lady your gratitude for getting out of uncle-duty, Hongo.”

Hongo closed the gap between you, collecting your right hand in his right and stopping down to place his lips on your knuckles. You felt his gratitude from the lengthy kiss he pressed against you, finishing the first kiss with three rapid kisses to follow in its stead. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your knuckles, his warm breath tickling your skin. 

“Go and have a drink, doctor,” you suggested, “You've earned it after that quick sprint.” He rose from his stoop, eyes meeting yours with a soft smile as he released your hand. You quickly turned to see Shanks and Uta in a soft embrace before she ran to your side. 

Reaching out your hand to her, you quickly wave to Shanks, Yassop and Hongo before leaving the bar; just as Beckman and the woman on his arm approach to get another round of drinks. 

Beckman ordered his usual beverage, and something similar for the companion who said she could handle it. Relinquishing a small wad of Berry, he reached for the drinks and clinked the rim against hers. While she looked towards her friend, who was currently seated on the lap of Limejuice, he noticed Hongo drinking a shot of tequila with Yassop and Shanks. 

“Hongo,” his gruff voice called over to them before turning to the lady at his side, “Sorry, doll. Would you excuse me for a moment?” She shrugged him off, enjoying a sip of the drink and feeling the subtle burn in her throat. 

He immediately marched over to the doctor, his hand cupping his shoulder and turning Hongo to face him. 

“Steady on, Beckman,” Hongo frowned, shrugging off his arm and raising the short glass to his lips, “What's gotten into you?”

“Where's Uta?” he barked lowly, his gaze pointed and accusatory, “You were on next rotation, where is our niece?” Shanks placed his right arm over Beckman's forearm, drawing his attention to the redhead instead of the doctor. 

“She's safe, big guy,” Shanks smirked, gesturing for another round for the three of them, “She's in very capable, and extremely attentive hands.”

“If you've palmed her off to the woman in Mount Colubo for the day-,” Beckman threatened, Shanks laughing into his shot-glass, downing the drink in a single gulp. 

“-Absolutely not, Becks,” Shanks finished his drink, ordering another with salt and lemon this time, “Someone made the trip especially to see her here. Someone you affectionately refer to as ‘Darlin’,’ when you call her.” 

Beckman dropped his glass, the container shattering at his boots as his mind raced with several questions. The ones eclipsing the more mundane: ‘how did you get here?’ and ‘is everything okay with Mihawk?’ were of ‘did you see him flirt with another woman?' and ‘did you see him kiss her?’. 

“She saw, Becks,” Shanks broke him from his trance, prompting him to look up as his captain began sweeping at the glass by his feet with a wicker broom, “You've spoken of your conquests in the past with her, why should seeing it in action be any different?”

“Because I don’t want her to think less of me-...” he quickly stifled his words, wincing as his captain's grin spread up his lips as fast as lightning. 

“Oh, Becks,” Shanks taunted him with a slow mock, “I thought you had a little crush, but come on man. It's been years!” Beckman chose to remain silent in lieu of spilling more of his heart. 

“Is it a curiosity, a small infatuation?” Shanks prompted, placing a replacement beverage in Beckman's hand once the glass was cleared, “Or are you in love with her?” 

Beckman looked at the glass, his lip quipping up in gratitude for the replacement and the clean up before he carefully responded. 

“I am in love with her.”

Shanks lulled his head on his shoulders, his elbows anchoring on the bar top as he slunk back into his rounded seat. 

“And what are you going to do about it, Becks?” Shanks asked again, leaning his head on Yassop’s shoulder, “Wanna take a vow of celibacy at sea like our sharpshooter here?” Yassop shook his head, smiling with his mind swimming with thoughts of his wife in Syrup Village. 

Beckman was perplexed. He was bewildered. Some could go so far as to say he was disorientated. The rush of admitting this unrequited love aloud to anyone other than Uta had him discombobulated, especially due to the fact that Shanks had not said a word against his confession. 

“Still with us, Becks?” Shanks asked, waving his hand in front of Beckman to regain a sense of attention back. Snapping back to his present tense, he shook his head at his captain and downed his drink in a single gulp. 

“She's with Uta, havin’ girl time?” Beckman asked, Shanks nodded in response. Taking a moment to pay a handful of Berry to the bar, Beckman purchased a round of drinks for his date, her friend, Limejuice and Shanks. 

“Her name is Belmira, the friend with Limejuice is Dahlia,” Beckman informed Shanks, placing the tray of drinks in his hand and ushering him over to her, “Give her a drink with my apologies, Captain. I'm gonna do somethin’ about it.” 

“That's my first-mate,” Shanks smiled, accepting the drinks and gleefully approaching the table with Dahlia, Limejuice and Belmira. As Shanks began offering the woman Beckman's apologies, Beckman was already out the door and walking into town. 

Enjoying the salon first: hot combs, scalp massages, aromatherapy and waterfall conditioning were offered to both yours and Uta's scalps. You both relaxed into the experience, enjoying catching up on times lost between you. Your hands were always clasped tightly around one another's, your seats pushed flush together so you could talk closer. 

Next was stopping for a small snack, both enjoying a quick sample of local fruits with ice cream before gathering some chicken smoked on skewers. You informed Uta you would both be eating something a little heartier later in the evening, but you enjoyed indulging your niece on her impulses. 

Dresses, skirts, pants, socks, shoes and jewelry was next: all catered to Uta's unique taste. She picked out a few items for you to try on, her small hands raking at your freshly dried hair to style it up before releasing it with a nod. 

Walking hand in hand, you approached a small vendor selling books with sheet music, all easy to decipher and follow. You purchased a small collection of them for Uta to take back to the Red-Force, adding it to the growing number of items you'd purchased for her. 

Uta arched her back and stumbled in her footing briefly, her eyes drooping from the sheer amount of walking you did together, always hand in hand. You approached the docks, both your ship and the Red-Force remained rocking lightly with the tide. 

“Pretty Aunty?” she asked suddenly, her voice slow and cautious. She gave your hand a gentle squeeze to halt your approach. 

“Yes gorgeous girl?” you replied, scrunching your nose and looking down at the young girl at your side. Her eyes held curiosity, but also an air of precaution. 

“Do you like Uncle Hawk?” she asked in a low tone, “Is that why you stay in Kuraigana and not come with us? Do you kiss him sometimes?”

“Uta!” you shook your head with a small laugh, “Absolutely not, sweet girl. While I do love Uncle Hawk, our love is not the way you think,” you confessed to her. 

“I don't understand,” she shrugged with a soft pout. You rolled your shoulders back, huffing out a breath before leading her down to sit just before boarding her home at sea. You crouched in front of her, holding her gaze at eye level. 

Attempting to commence your history, easy enough for a child to comprehend, and condense several brutal steps and details, you pursed your lips. 

“Uncle Hawk and I fought each other a few times,” you admitted, gauging her comprehension by carefully looking in her eyes, “I won once, he won once. One day after that; we fought so hard, I ended up needing to see a special doctor to fix me up.” She nodded, waiting for more of your history to be shared with her. 

“Uncle Hawk took me to the doctor, and waited for me to wake up to talk with me,” you continued. “He offered me a choice to leave a very, very bad person who had me do very, very bad things.” You shuddered at the memory that still caused your blood to run cold. You shook off the feeling, continuing to relay your explanation to the young child. 

“I love him for that,” you admit to her, “Uncle Hawk showed me mercy where he had every right to make my heart stop. I have been living in my home in Kuraigana ever since, and I truly enjoy helping him remain as the World's Greatest Swordsman.”

She hummed, taking in the information like a dry sponge soaking up warm water. She allowed several moments to pass before she asked a pointed question. 

“Do you kiss him like Uncle Beckman kissed that lady?” Uta narrowed her eyes, your comprehension of exactly what she was asking finally dawning on you. 

“No, gorgeous girl,” you shook your head, “Uncle Hawk and I do not kiss. I make his coffee, I prepare his schedule, he cooks for me, and he shares wine with me. We do not kiss, we do not hold hands. We are both very good friends.”

“But aren't you very good friends with Uncle Beckman? Don't you love him too?” Uta said quickly, her line of reasoning quickly turning into an interrogation. You rolled your head on your shoulders, eyes closing and lips smiling. 

“Uncle Beckman and I are excellent friends,” you nodded, lowering your head below her eyeline and collecting the bags beside her, “I have known him for longer than I knew Uncle Hawk-.”

“-Do you want him to kiss you like he kissed that lady in the bar? Do you love him?” Uta hurriedly spat, weaseling the truth from you in a similar way you managed to do so in your own childhood. You laughed joyfully, shaking your head at her question and taking a moment to think about it. 

Teetering off your laughter, you looked down at the pouting child. Uta's hands were folded over her chest, her brows in a deep frown. Whispering in the native Kuraigana tongue, you tucked her hair behind her ear, “I love Beckman more than he's fully aware. He's had my heart the moment he placed you in my arms, beautiful girl.”

“I don't understand when you speak that language, pretty aunty,” she grumbled, swatting your hands away from her face, “Can you tell me what you said?”

“Of course I love him, Uta,” you shook your head, “I love all of the Red-Hair crew, including their little musician. Now, let's put your clothes, toys and makeup away before we go back to see them, okay?” You ensured there was no air for misinterpretation, looking at Uta's large eyes as she took in the information. 

After taking a small breath, Uta stood on her feet and let you lead her and her items to the Red-Force and down into her room to put it all away. 

Unbeknownst to you, Benn Beckman hurried back to the Red-Force immediately after bidding Shanks a hasty farewell. He bathed himself, washed his hair, sifted through his wardrobe to find his best clothes, and began shaving his face out on the deck with his shirt folded neatly beside him. 

When hearing your chatter and approach, he hastily wiped the suds away from his face, checking himself over in the deck mirror for any scruff he missed. He scowled when he noticed a small tuft of hair on his jaw, hastily drawing up his barbering blade to scrape away the coarse fuzz. 

He heard every word spoken, every soft giggle from you, and every pointed word from Uta. The interaction drew a smile up his lips, all grins and soft laughs, until the mention of love and kisses caused his heart to stumble. 

The thought of you and Mihawk together romantically had never crossed his mind until now, truly ignorant to the reason you remained in Kuraigana. He knew you had been injured badly in a large fight with Mihawk, but never truly knew the reason you followed him. 

When Uta asked you if you wanted him, if you loved him, he was frozen in place. He wanted to give you privacy to answer, but his heart was screaming at him to hone in on your response. Ears straining, he barely caught your voice whisper to Uta in Kuraiganian. He could admit to himself, his Kuraiganian was seriously lacking, but he did manage to pick up just the smallest phrase. This phrase had his shoulders fall in relief, his breath stolen from his lungs and his eyes clench tightly shut in bliss. 

“I love Beckman,” you said, his mind repeating your soft whisper to Uta as a musician would repeat a favored section of their skillful melody. He translated that one phrase as he placed a cigarette between his lips. 

“I love Beckman.”

[thought-42]

It gets harder every year

Star Wars, 2050 words, Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger Luke has acquired a Mandalorian and is maybe panicking a little. It's fine. He nows a guy. Set in a universe where Ezra wound up in the Chiss Ascendancy post-Rebels and eventually he and Luke became like. Space internet friends. Don't worry about it. *

Luke Skywalker, pinnacle of Jedi calm and patience, only does four laps around the school while he waits for his comm signal to work its way through seven layers of encryption and a long string of relay nodes stretching across lightyears, vast and unknowable, between his current location and his target.

“No,” Laezra says as soon as he picks up. His little hologram is blurry and half a second out of sync with the audio, but Luke can still see the way his hair is flattened on one side and standing straight up on the other, and he's holding the comm in such a way that his (probably bare) chest is out of frame. There is, perhaps, a timezone issue Luke should have taken into account.

“You're so rude,” Luke says. “This could be an emergency.”

“Is it?”

“The point is that it could be. And you, my only peer, my only fellow Force user, you who stand in brotherhood with me against a harsh and uncaring universe–”

“Your sister exists and is literally a princess”

“What value does the royal title hold within the forced diaspora, really? Also the last time I asked if she wanted to meditate she threatened to tell someone I don't pay taxes.”

“That's an actual criminal crime, for the record. What kind of example are you setting for your students?”

“I have two students,” Luke says. “One of whom I'm related to. Besides, didn't you meet your master in the middle of a criminal crime?”

“It's not a crime if it pisses off the Empire,” Laezra says automatically, then, “Luke, please. I am so tired. There was a whole... thing. I haven't slept in my own bed for three weeks. My student had to use her lightsaber in actual combat for the first time. I had to side with my commanding officer against my mentor, even though the asshole was absolutely in the right, and I'm feeling some kinda way about it. Sometimes preemptive action is good, actually, but don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Sorry,” says Luke. “Is she ok? Your student, I mean.” Laezra still refuses to tell Luke the name of his or his fellow Navigator Jedi's student, and wierd trust issues aside, it makes conversation grammatically difficult sometimes.

“Yeah. We're ok. We were both doing twelve hour shifts on the way home, though, because I guess ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ doesn’t mean ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ when the ship’s actual Sky Walker is made of germs and fever and barf. Then it becomes ‘jump-by-jump is so inefficient, this information is so critical, everybody’s so tired. Have you ever had the experience of getting nosebleed blood crusted in your beard? BecauseI don’t recommend it.”

Between Leia and Laezra, Luke knows enough classified information to sink two major governments. Or at least inconvenience them a lot. 

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke decides he's going to sit down on the grass,and only realises it’s still wet from the afternoon rainstorm once his pants are already soaked. “So. Listen. You know things.”

“Wild,” Laezra says flatly. “Is this how you write report cards at your school?”

Luke glares down at the little hologram. “You know things about Mandalorians,” he clarifies. He decides he's gonna stand back up, and while he's at it he may as well do a few more laps.

“I-- Luke. Luke you can't tell me I'm the only person you know who knows a Mandalorian. Who I am, just so we're super clear, still on pretty shaky footing with, given my whole... everything.”

Luke waves this off. He is very over Laezra having fucked off on actual Purrgils, never to return, less than a year before Luke discovered he was a space wizard and could have really desperately used some support in that from someone who wasn't a hundred years old and a friend of his father's. It's so fine. He definitely doesn't lie awake imagining being one half of a pair of Jedi, back when the Rebellion had felt huge and overwhelming and kind of terrifying. Some people blow up a massive space station/doomsday weapon full of living beings (twice) and hold their evil dad in their arms while he dies. Some people ride away in a burst of martyrdom on their bffs the legendary space whales. Some people live alone but for two little kids in the ruins of a temple that they call a school, desperately trying to rebuild an entire religious and cultural institution from barely legible texts and ghosts. Some people live in another galaxy and embark on exciting new projects for an alien government where they get to research brand new Force techniques and go on adventures and live in an apartment where they can just walk across the street and buy fresh pastries whenever they want to.

Jedi do not feel envy. Jedi do not feel resentment. Jedi are always well aware that the grass is perpetually greener.

“I have a Mandalorian now,” Luke says, instead of any of this.

“Like, you... have obtained one? Are you feeding them? They need so much exercise, I cannot emphasise this enough.”

Luke puts his comm on the ground so he can drop his face into his hands. “He gave me? His kid? But also I think he's the king of the Mandalorians, and he keeps stopping by for visits, and I don't want to mess up.”

“This is so much,” Laezra says. “This is so much. Luke Skywalker, are you crushing on the Mand’alor?”

“Calling you was a mistake,” Luke says.

“Calling me was the opposite of a mistake, oh my God. What House? What Clan? I ask like the answer will mean anything to me, but like..... it might.”

“His name's Din,” Luke says. “I don't know if I'm supposed to tell people that.”

“And have you and Din..... you know?”

“He doesn't take his helmet off,” Luke says, helplessly. “Except once, and I think that was... not ideal. For him.”

“But was it ideal for you– sorry, sorry. Ok. Was he an Academy kid?”

“I don't think so,” Luke says. “He barely knew anything about the war. He didn't know who I was. He has a lightsaber that he really doesn't want to have, though.”

“Wait. Wait. So he's like.... the real deal. You're having sexy parent/teacher interviews with the legit Mand’alor.”

“I'm not having sexy anything with anybody,” Luke says.

“That's so sad, my guy. But hey, keep on trucking. I bet you can seduce him with your farmboy charms.”

“His son eats frogs,” says Luke. “I caught him a whole bucket full to take with him last time Din came to take him on a trip.”

“You just. ...handed the Mand’alor a bucket of frogs and his kid? ‘Have a good time, gang!’ You’re my very favourite little guy, Luke.”

“I think most of them escaped inside his ship,” Luke admits. “Which, actually, let me tell you about his kriffing ship–”

“Why am I perpetually surrounded by pilots? Luke, look at me. Look me in the eye. I don't care about his ship. Tell me about his cute kid or his dick or the actual ass Darksaber. Do not tell me about his ship.”

“It's very bad, though. It’s a bad ship and he should feel bad about it, he lets his child ride around in it, and I know for a fact his fuel injectors were recalled–”

“So were you hoping I'd... know the Mando dating cheat codes, or something?” Laezra says loudly.

Luke frowns. “I want to get to know him as a person. I'm his son's teacher. It'd be inappropriate for me to ... do anything. I'm just hoping I can maybe be a bit more culturally sensitive.”

Luke's only ever seen one propper, full-colour picture of Laezra that isn't a blue light holocall; there’s a holo on General Syndulla’s desk of a grinning teenager, limbs gawky and eyes that reminded Luke of the feral tookas he was never allowed to take home during trips into town as a kid. Even so, it's easy for Luke to picture the other man sitting in the dark of his bedroom, shoving his hands back through his hair as he groans. Luke wonders if he's the kind of person who needs to have everything unpacked and in its place when he comes home from a mission, or if he's more the 'dump bag and clothes on floor, fall face first onto nearest flat surface' type. It's probably a weird thing to wonder, but it's the sort of thing Luke knows about all his other friends.

“Ok. Luke.” He drops his hands from his hair and leans in close to his comm, so the top half of his face is all Luke sees, weird and disproportionate as the camera tries to compensate. “I bet you've probably been reading a bunch of old Jedi books or scrolls or cave paintings about the danger of attachment. Maybe your ghosts have lectured you. But that's what they are. Ghosts and old writings. You're starting something new. And-- Kanan. My Master. He loved somebody very much, and she loved him back. And he was the best Jedi I can imagine.”

“You can just say it was General Syndulla,” says Luke, who has only ever seen one mention of attachments in the documents he’s recovered, but doesn’t want to devalue what Laezra is trying to tell him.

“Ok, yeah. They loved each other so much, and I never once saw it interfere with Kanan’s dedication to helping others. To making the galaxy a safer, kinder place. If anything I think she made him better. And vice-versa.”

“I just meant,” Luke says carefully, “that I wouldn't want to risk things not working out and Din not wanting to leave his son here anymore. There's nobody else who will train him. But I’ll keep the other stuff in mind.”

“I have so many things I definitely  don't actually want to say to Ahsoka,” Laezra mutters. “But oh boy am I thinking them.”

Luke presses his lips together. He doesn't know if Laezra knows who Vader was when he was a Jedi. Doesn't know if it'd mean anything to him even if he did know. “She's got some pretty compelling reasons for the choices she makes, he says. "I don’t agree with her, but… I mean. Anybody can become dangerous if attachment gets possessive, but you've gotta admit Force users are especially risky.”

“People just keep making bigger guns,” Laezra points out. “How are they any less dangerous?”

“A gun can't get inside your head and change how you feel. It can't make you do things you wouldn't normally do.”

“Ahahaha,” says Laezra, and his hands go back over his face as he leans away from the camera. “You don't need The Force for that one, either.”

Luke winces. “Anyway,” he says, because he knows most people don't actually want to talk about their feelings, even if that seems super counter-intuitive. Whatever. “How do I become friends with the Mand'alor?”

“You keep saying it and it doesn't get any less unhinged. I don't know. You're already taking care of his kid, and you value family. You're highly skilled in combat. There's really no secret trick to it, just... be a person.”

“I've tried that,” Luke says. “I'm so bad at being a person around him though.”

“Does he like art?” Laezra asks, with a sudden burst of gleeful intensity. “Luke does he like art, this is important. I can tell you so much about art. Do you want to know which chemical combinations are the best for neon colours and also timed explosions? Do you want to know about historical graffiti culture throughout the Outer Rim? Do you want to know how to use the remaining art from the various Mandalorian factions to construct a sociopolitical thesis on their people with a focus on military tactics?”

“You know what," says Luke, "I think I hear the kids calling me.”

“Coward,” Laezra says immediately

“Go back to bed; say hi to your student for me; may The Force be with you bye.”

Laezra is still swearing at him, laughing,when Luke clicks the channel closed.

Luke, with all the dignity befitting the last Jedi Master, opens his notebook and writes 'Ask if he likes art.'

[ahsokathegray]

I Bleed the Same || Thirty-Six

Pairing: Rexsoka

Summary: Ahsoka and Rex try and make sense of who and what they are after Order 66 occurs. Figuring out what to do with themselves, they remain together for a period of time before parting in their own directions.

Warnings: slow burn, mentions of Order 66, ptsd, injury, death, and future nsfw situations

Word Count: 7,884

A/N: Mission chapter!! Slight violence (enemies dying and wookies doing what wookies do to the arms of their enemies)

read on ao3! / series masterlist

The news couldn’t have made Rex’s helmet any tighter. His ears burned and rang as the comm connection was severed. Ahsoka was looking up at him. She knew whatever he’d heard had been of great significance. Her hand came to rest on his upper arm. “Rex? Is everything alright?” she asked, but he could barely hear her. 

He couldn’t swallow. His head was pounding. The contact was a clone? Did Saw know? Surely, he didn’t. Bringing Ahsoka and himself into the compound hadn’t been a painless event, enough so that this just wouldn’t have made sense. No chance Gerrera was trusting a clone to detail missions and provide intel, not when he and Ahsoka weren’t even permitted access to their own ship. Even Bonteri’s insight about the informant hadn’t alluded to either of them knowing about it being a clone. 

Saw and Lux then came into view on their speeder bikes, two empty ones in tow behind them. “Let’s go!” Saw called. 

“Rex?” Ahsoka repeated quietly, knowing now that he no longer had the window to tell her what the sisters had relayed to him. 

“What are you two waiting up for? We’re moving out! Hop on!” Saw hurried them. 

Rex’s feet carried him down the ship’s ramp and into the early morning of Kashyyyk. The humidity weighed on his shoulders, pressing into his blacks like an added layer of skin. Rex adjusted his cloak, the added fabric acting as both a camouflage and one more thing that trapped in the heat. He mounted his speeder as if it was programmed in his genes — it was — and was focused distantly on the handlebars. Ahsoka was in front of him, looking over her shoulder with a concerned look knitting her brow markings together. 

She could read him plainly, no matter if he had a helmet on or not. The surge in his veins and the erratic rhythm of his heart had made its way into her chest. 

The bikes revved up, bringing Rex to snap out of his haze and assume the proper form, gripping the handles until he was sure his knuckles were white underneath his gloves. His feet hit the pedals and they were off. Kashyyyk flew past them in varying shades of green, the trees and other flora a dark blur as the sun had yet to fully rise. Ahsoka’s rear lek had been picked up off of her back with their speed, trailing behind her as they covered a considerable amount of klicks. It gave Rex a focal point, something to ground and center him so that he could be present mentally. The contact was a clone and he was on this planet. And there wasn’t anything Rex could do about that at the current moment. 

The mission. The Trandoshan raiders. The Wookie prisoners. That’s what he needed to concentrate on instead. 

Dark greens had shifted to lighter greens as the sun rose, Saw’s fist along with it, bringing them to a stop. Bonteri dismounted and scouted ahead to check out the area. They’d just come across the first village of many, if the heavy smoke in the area was any indication. 

“Keep the noise to a minimum,” Saw whispered, as their bikes powered down, “We don’t know if there are any raiders lingering behind, waiting for any insurgents to challenge them.” True as that may be, they were working to the advantage. Even if the Trandoshans were prepared for insurgents, three humans and a Togruta were the least of their expectations. They had the upper hand here.

Ahsoka and Rex each shared a look, tight-lipped and eyes wide. Even though his helmet was on, she’d learned how to read his every emotion on the field. His outlook on the mission had shifted.

This wasn’t like their usual field mission. And they weren’t typically the ones following orders, rather the ones giving them. It was an odd shift in dynamic for them. Ahsoka lifted her goggles and pressed a pair of macrobinoculars to her face, surveying the homes from afar, both out of habit and out of her distrust in Lux. She knew how careless he’d been in the past. But she and Bonteri each confirmed no sighting of the raiders. 

So they fanned out and entered the village from four different angles to do a sweep for any injured or captive Wookies. It was barren. Homes were destroyed and trees were defiled. Black streaks of blaster fire littered the dirt beneath them, as well as the telling signs of struggle.These Wookies had put up a fight. 

Rex couldn’t help but think about how great of an asset Hunter’s skills would’ve been on this mission. He’d be able to track where the prisoners had been taken in half the time it would take them to do it without him. 

But the village had been cleared, leaving no one behind, only the recently extinguished fires and a trail leading to the next location. They mounted their bikes once more and Ahsoka allowed her eyes to wander while the morning was still quiet and Saw was checking his holomap. Rex’s kama was splayed out around him on the seat, hugging his thighs, which were spread over the—

“The map the contact provided shows the next village is twenty minutes ahead. Keep tight and keep up. We’ll catch up with them soon,” Saw divulged, nodding and making eye contact with each of them. 

Rex’s helmet tipped down and Ahsoka turned to him, feeling the way his Force signature was buzzing around the task at hand. It hadn’t been like that previously, before they’d stepped off the ship. And it wasn’t unlike anything she’d ever felt from him during the war, just uncommon. He was unsettled. He knew something — a factor that changed his view on the mission.

Pressing on, they zipped past small creeks and rivers to get to the next village, following the path a very large group of raiders had left behind. 

Rex knew that if the contact was a clone, then the information had to be correct. At least, he desperately wanted that to be the case. There was a high possibility that it wouldn’t be. But if this clone had a damaged chip or if he’d had it removed… there might still be hope. He just couldn’t wrap his head around why a clone would want to help after the order to kill the Jedi was given. 

Did its effects wear off with time? Was their autonomy somehow restored? 

He didn’t want to think about the idea of a clone feigning distaste for the Empire just to hand them over in the end. Rex inhaled sharply, pressing into the turn Saw had them take. Hope was all they could rely on. And if everything blew up in their faces, Rex would still count the mission successful if Ahsoka was the only one to get away. 

As much as he needed her… the galaxy needed her more. And it certainly didn’t need him or Saw. It especially didn’t need Bonteri. 

She glanced back at him, as if reading his thoughts, and shot him a kind smile, the corners of her inviting lips turning upwards and her lekku rippling with the wind. Even through the lenses of the goggles that she wore, he could see the sparkle in her deep blue eyes. The way the sun began to slip through the tree branches had projected rays of soft light across her skin and… 

Rex caught his wandering mind, reminding himself again of the active orders. If this had been General Skywalker's mission, he would’ve already pulled his Captain aside and tried to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with him. He’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t wondered what Skywalker would’ve thought — had the war not ended and he resumed duty under his General after Mandalore — about his less than professional feelings for Ahsoka. Tightening his jaw, Rex gave more power to the thrusters.

They passed through several more villages, all of various sizes and on the ground instead of up in the trees, but each with the same conditions. Blaster fire, smoke, empty homes, blood. A few stray blasters had been recovered, having been kicked up under the dirt or just left behind in the open. They were broken of course, but able to be repaired. These raiders were sloppy. Saw loaded up each and every one found, making sure any larger equipment that was left behind was inoperational so that they didn’t waste any detonators. 

Few words were exchanged between the group as they made sure homes were clear and checked the surrounding woods, placing thermal detonators onto Separatist tanks and priming the charges. All Saw would have to do is press the one button and everything would be blown to hell all at once. 

Kashyyyk’s humidity grew relentless as the sun continued to rise. More animals were waking up and thus creating more noise. Ahsoka’s montrals echoed, indicating some nearby movement. She placed a hand over her blaster before she even detected the snap of a twig. 

It sliced through the silence they’d let themselves grow used to. 

On instinct, Rex put a hand over his blaster as well, looking to make sure Ahsoka was still beside him. She was one step ahead of him already, fingers hovering over the grip of the weapon. He allowed himself a small smile underneath his bucket as he helped scan the trees for whatever was there. Trandoshans were quick, but not known for their agility or verticality. But they were on high alert nonetheless, checking where it had echoed from the branches above. 

They heard what sounded like a small creature fly away and together let out a deep breath. Ahsoka chewed on her cheek before giving Rex a soft smile, something about the night before playing on her lips.

She knew that if he removed his helmet, that the morning light would hit his eyes in the kindest of ways, taking them from brown to that shade of bright amber that had a way of drawing her in. They were far enough away from the other two members of their party now that she could ask him about the comm. But before she could get the words out, Lux gave the whistle for them to return to the bikes and head to the last village marked. 

They rode for ten minutes. Saw held his fist up earlier this time, bringing them to a sudden stop just outside of the village. “We go on foot from here,” he said quickly, motioning for Lux to move ahead and see what they were working with. 

Smoke billowed at a great height from over the trees. They stashed their speeder bikes into the brush, wanting their presence to be as untraceable as possible. Ahsoka crouched, using the cover of a fallen tree trunk to take cover. Rex met her at the location and they pressed their backs into the bark, straining to hear the raiders. They could hear low voices now, muffled, but very much there. If she concentrated enough, Ahsoka could detect the two raspy voiced Trandoshans conversing and barking orders.

The sound of their stripped vocal chords still grated inside of her montrals, taking her back to her time on Wasskah when she and other Padawans had been hunted for sport. It only fueled her anger more, knowing that the Wookie’s were experiencing similar and remembering how Chewbacca and his people were able to rescue them. 

She wouldn’t mind seeing her old friends again, but not under these circumstances. Right now, Ahsoka hoped that they were all very far away from here. She then thought of the only other Wookie she knew of, picturing Gungis’s face and hoping that he hadn’t been at the Temple during the raid… The Younglings had the shortest end of the stick out of everyone. Ahsoka could only hope he’d been made into a Padawan before then and wasn’t on Coruscant that night. 

Rex seemed to notice her unease. His helmet turned towards her just a fraction, the light of the morning sun and her own reflection bouncing off of his black visor. Gloved fingers skirted over her own, gently pressing down into the dirt. Her heart swelled. They had this. They’d completed similar missions countless times before with no casualties. This was child’s play in terms of difficulty. 

Ahsoka opened her mouth to speak when Saw caught her eye, motioning for them to follow. Quickly, and with not near enough pressure as she had intended, she squeezed Rex’s hand and moved to follow in line, hoping that he’d felt it.

As they met Saw near the village outskirts, Ahsoka picked up the cries of Wookies that were being held captive. She swallowed, picking up just how many prisoners were being transported. The number was far greater than they’d originally thought just by looking at tracks alone. This final village must’ve been larger than the others. 

Lux got their attention and pointed towards several moving tanks and an AT-RT walker in the center of the village. The sight of the Republic machinery made Rex’s mouth go dry. These raiders had more than enough firepower at their disposal. It was clear that this was an Empire-funded effort. Bonteri and Saw both radioed for backup, pulling the rest of their fighters from the other corners of the planet to the new coordinates. Saw’s jaw flexed as a group of Wookie prisoners came into view, their arms and legs shackled and being loaded into a transport. He couldn’t save his own planet, but he’d fight tooth and nail to save the ones around it. 

Ahsoka pressed her lips into a thin line and looked away briefly, unable to bear the scene playing out before her. Not even the women and children were exempt from the raiders’ brutality. 

Her heart pounded in her chest as their team began spreading throughout the trees, splitting up to place their charges and compromise this heinous effort to the best of their ability. They’d work the perimeter and get a count of raiders and prisoners both before they sprung their attack. Ahsoka counted fifteen Wookies and six raiders, looking for more when she spotted a third variable. It was an armor model she’d never forget, the same one she’d seen for as long as she could remember, painted a million different ways. 

A singular clone was standing amongst the raiders, blaster in hand and doing his own head count as the prisoners boarded the transport. He was wearing camouflaged armor, the familiar shell painted in various shades of green. He had his back facing her, so she didn’t get a good view of the front of his helmet, but if his armor told her anything, it was that he was part of the 41st Elite Corps — Master Luminara’s men. His helmet would confirm it for certain. Ahsoka swallowed, thinking of Rex, and instinctively reaching out for his signature and feeling him; only him. He was somewhere in the trees to the right of her, making the same realization. 

His usual Force signature rippled, overcome with emotion. Whether that clone was willing or not, he’d be leaving with them off of this planet. 

Rex swallowed, pressing his back against a wall of the home he was using for cover. Spotting the clone was something he had been prepared for, but it hadn’t made it any less difficult to see. It was almost as if it were wishful thinking, or something he wouldn’t have believed until he saw it, like the man before him was a ghost or a mirage. 

Beside him in an instant, Ahsoka had already put two and two together. “Rex, is this what the comm was about?” she asked, placing a hand over his arm. 

He nodded, “Yes. The Martez sisters said that Saw’s contact is a clone.” The words didn’t feel like they held any more truth even after they’d come out of his mouth. 

“Is that all? What about his chip?” she asked, her breathing picking up. 

“Nothing else about the clone. Just that Onderon was annexed into the Empire almost immediately after the war ended,” Rex related to her, keeping his voice down. “I’d assume that his chip was removed or either it malfunctioned. But we can’t be sure it’s our guy.”

Ahsoka chewed on the information as they waited for the rest of their team to arrive. Rex was right. If this was their contact, he was playing the part of Imperial rather well. “He’s part of the 41st isn’t he?”

“As far as I can tell,” Rex confirmed, looking down at the ground. The possibility that Rex knew the clone in front of them caused his chest to tighten. 

One of the tanks began to move and he and Ahsoka held their positions, afraid they’d been spotted. They watched as it broke away from the others, escorting a transport full of Wookies to another location. Ahsoka was already on it, running after the two ground vehicles with effortless speed. They had to contain this. He needed to go help her. 

But just as he began to move, Bonteri had already begun heading that way, rushing towards a situation he’d only make worse instead of better. Rex felt his heart tug at him, willing him in that direction, but he knew he had to keep his feet planted. Besides, Saw would likely leave them behind if he and Ahsoka had taken off alone. Every muscle in his body tensed for the briefest of seconds before he pushed out from behind the tree. Saw made eye contact with him and nodded. Reinforcements had arrived. Twenty-three raiders and possibly one clone versus eight freedom fighters. Rex didn’t know what their odds were, but he was confident in his own abilities well enough. 

Together, he and the group of fighters emerged from behind the homes and into the center of the village, blasters and vibroblades at the ready. 

~~~

The wind whipped past Ahsoka’s face and lifted her back lek as she took off towards the rogue transport, coming up from behind and gaining on them quickly. 

She approached the back of the tank and a young Wookie inside the transport spotted her, its fearful eyes growing wider with hope. It tugged on its father’s bandolier and Ahsoka pressed a finger to her lips. The young child nodded in understanding and smiled at her, turning to look at the raider on the tank beside them with determination.

Ahsoka used the cover of the tank to her advantage, leaping from it to catch enough air to then leap from a tree, kicking off of the trunk as she gained enough altitude to wrap herself around the large Trandoshan manning the gun. She pressed her heels deeply into his shoulders, causing him to fall forwards and yelp. Ahsoka stepped off of his back as he met the forest floor, grabbing his blaster from its holster before she dismounted. 

He fell from the tank and into the dirt, causing it and the transport to both come to a screeching halt. The reptile snarled as it spotted her. “You’ll pay for that!” it hissed, spitting dirt from its large mouth. 

She observed the blaster in her hand and reached into her holster for Rex’s, aiming both weapons and pointing them at the center of his chest. Rex hadn’t trained her for the dual wielding of blasters, but with both grips in her hand, it was like second nature. It was her preferred method of combat and she’d observed Rex enough on the field to know exactly how he’d tell her to do it. 

Pulling itself off of the ground, the Trandoshan wiped blood away from its mouth as it reached for its weapon, finding the holster empty and narrowing its beady yellow eyes at Ahsoka. “Togruta scum! My people will have your little horned head mounted on a wall for this!” he cried, unsheathing a small blade from his belt. 

“They tried once. You’ll find that it didn’t work out so well. It won't for you either. Now, let these Wookies go,” she ground out, curling her lip and assuming Rex’s stance perfectly. 

The Trandoshan licked its lips and laughed dryly, curling its empty fist and bending at the knees. Two more Trandoshans joined them, the drivers to both the transport and the tank stepping in to help neutralize the threat. Ahsoka had already seen first hand what Trandoshans call fighting. It wasn’t impressive. This wouldn’t be a challenge at all. 

“What’s she want? Credits? Wookie pelts?” the driver of the transport rasped, scowling at the Trandoshan she’d taken down. 

Ahsoka grimaced and redirected one of her blasters to him, “You misunderstand. We won’t be reaching a compromise here. You will be releasing those Wookies.”

The third Trandoshan laughed and she heard the clicking of their blasters, brandishing them and aiming them in her direction. “We’ll see about that,” he croaked. 

Leaves rustled above them and something moved from behind the tank. She looked over the shoulder of the Trandoshan in front of her and spotted a head of greasy, black hair. Lux. He mouthed her name, bringing her attention to the explosive in his hand. Ahsoka swallowed, darting her eyes away from him before she gave his position away. He was going to blow up the tank. She needed to get the transport away from this area before that happened and the Wookies were caught in the crossfire.

She would’ve executed it differently, focused on relocating the Wookies first before the involvement of explosives were added, but now was not the time to critique his flawed plan. Help had come and it's what she had to work with. 

Chuckling darkly, the largest Trandoshan replied, “How cute.”

Another of the reptilian lowlifes added, “Foolish girl, thinking you can just—”

But his words were left unfinished, coming to an abrupt end as the not-so-distant sound of detonators began to erupt in a domino effect. Explosions rang in her montrals from where Rex and the rest of the fighters were at in the village. Their reinforcements had arrived. Wookies roared through the trees, causing the ones in the transport beside her to teem with new life as the attack began. 

Before the raiders could even react, Ahsoka was taking her aim, shooting the first raider square in the chest with a stun. As his body fell backwards, she heard a shrill squawk and the leaves rustled again above her yet again. She whipped her head around to find the other two Trandoshans had vanished. Leaves rained around her and Lux reappeared from behind the tank. 

“Where did they go?” she asked, her words sharp and demanding, running to check the transport. 

His brows turned downward, “They were there before I took my aim, but as soon as I did, they were gone. I figured you took them out.”

“I took him out,” she corrected, pointing her blaster at the Trandoshan half slumped over the Separatist tank. “Where are the other two?”

They weren’t in the transport, but something curious was happening inside of the vehicle. Every Wookie on board was looking up into the tree branches. Something had been up there. Ahsoka’s attention snapped upward just in time to see both of the missing Trandoshans fall. Both of them hit the ground with such force that it was sure to have killed them on impact. The breaking of several bones was audibly heard. 

They hadn’t climbed the trees… had they?

Again, Ahsoka heard the call of a small animal and what sounded like feathers shaking. She caught a glimpse of what looked like a long, green tail disappearing back above the canopies. 

The young Wookie from before roared joyously, smiling at her between the slats of the transport. Ahsoka turned to Lux, “What was that?”

He shrugged, “I’m… not sure. But we should probably go before it decides to do the same to us.”

“I'll get the Wookies back to their village if you’ve got the tank?” she asked, phrasing the order as if it were a question to make him more inclined to agree. 

He did. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, holding up the remote in his hand. 

And so Ahsoka hopped behind the controls of the transport and began to move, weaving it between the trees and back towards the village. The chaos was still ongoing where the rest of the team and the raiders were, but she and the adult Wookies would be able to help. 

As she drove away, she heard the loud boom of the detonator going off, letting her know that Lux had successfully blown up the tank. It also meant that their three scaly friends wouldn’t be returning to join the fight. 

Releasing the Wookies from inside the transport, Ahsoka worked one by one to free them from their binders. The first ones to be freed joined in to help her, doing the same for their friends and family and gathering up the children. The raiders hadn’t been smart enough to stash their confiscated weapons on a separate ship either. They found that the transport housed everything that they needed to help take back their village. 

Two adults split from the group, taking the children somewhere else to hide, while two more groups ran with Ahsoka through the trees and towards the sound of blaster fire. One team would help free the other Wookies and the other would reinforce the freedom fighters. 

Ahsoka leapt off the side of a house as soon as the two groups diverged, landing on the nearest Trandoshan and wrapping her legs around its head, slamming it into the ground. She had Rex’s blaster in hand, taking her aim at a Trandoshan preparing to pounce and firing before he could finish. 

“Glad you could join the fight!” Saw exclaimed as he ran past her, kicking another Trandoshan into a fire. 

She ignored his comment, taking the blaster she’d swiped from the earlier Trandoshan out of her holster and eliminating the enemy running up behind him. “I was busy getting us more hands,” she tossed, indicating where the Wookies she’d brought to the party were now freeing the other Wookies still inside transports. 

Saw gave her a curt nod of respect before running off to save the skin of one of his own fighters. 

Ahsoka scanned the village, her eyes darting around to look for Rex. She didn’t see him anywhere. And the AT-RT they’d spotted earlier was now lying on its side in the middle of the village; the camouflaged clone wasn’t anywhere in sight either. She had two goals now. Find Rex and get eyes on the trooper. 

~~~

Shooting hot plasma into the thick neck of the lizard beneath his boot wasn’t enough to take the Trandoshan out. Rex fired twice more into its chest before it stopped trying to grab at his leg. He turned to go back the way he came, towards the center of the village, but then heard what sounded like glass shattering inside one of the homes. 

Rex heard another series of noises and found which house it was all coming from, running to the back door and kicking it in. A skinnier Trandoshan was cornering three younger Wookies with a vibroblade in his hand. 

Rex’s blood boiled. The Wookies were unarmed. They each turned to him, fear-stricken at the sight of his armor. 

Shooting the reptile in the ankle, Rex let the Trandoshan howl in pain and fall to the floor. The blade it held was forgotten and Rex walked over, kicking it away. The kids looked up at him, happily vocalizing their gratitude. One of the kids roared and grabbed at the arm of the lizard, pulling harshly. Rex had been around long enough to hear stories about this behavior. 

“He’s all yours,” Rex said as he exited the home from the opposite door, knowing well what Wookies — even younger ones — were capable of once they started reaching for the limbs of their enemies. 

He was greeted with the sight of Ahsoka as he stepped back into the forest. She had his blaster in her right hand and a firearm he didn’t recognize in her left, shooting and hitting her intended targets each and every time. The Wookies were helping her save ammo, running for the limbs of the reptilian bodies that had started to collect around her and making sure she didn’t have to hit the raiders more than once. 

Rex was at a loss for words. Her abilities were unmatched. Looking on as she not only used his blaster, but as she effortlessly dual wielded the two weapons could’ve brought him to his knees. He was simply in awe of her, but this wasn’t the place to stand by and gawk. Now was his chance to help her. 

Watching her six and looking out for the missing trooper were his top priorities. The Wookies had all been freed by now and Saw’s people were counting the bodies of the raiders, finding out how many were left. Rex took his aim at a larger Trandoshan and shot, causing the large man to stagger but not fall. Ahsoka slipped in beside him, helping to bring the man down for good. Together, they worked in sync, moving around the Wookies and stepping over their fallen enemies, doing the dance they’d always done. She knew each of his cues and he knew hers, taking the side she wasn’t on and knowing when to swap. Not one Trandoshan had even gotten his sights set on Ahsoka before Rex had already blasted a hole through them. 

Twenty-three raiders later, the battle had finished. 

Lux’s words were lost as Ahsoka’s eyes settled on where Rex had ended up by their speeder bikes, jogging up to make sure that she was alright. He thought he’d seen the clone, but hadn’t been able to locate him. 

Dead Trandoshans littered the ground as the Wookies reunited with their families, rubbing their wrists from where the binders had dug into their fur. Saw’s team was confiscating weapons and equipment from the raiders, gathering everything that was operational or at least salvageable. They’d left not one Trandoshan survivor. Saw himself was speaking with the Wookie tribe leader, fluent in their language, and discussing an alliance. The mission had been a success. They’d thrown a wrench into something the Empire wanted done and a group of people had regained their lives… until the next time.

Nonetheless, Ahsoka felt like a large weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. It was as if she could breathe again now that the fighting was done. Her mind could drift safely back to Rex. He was heading towards her, his helmet tucked under his arm with a relieved expression painting his features, but Rex looked anything but relaxed. She scanned the scaly bodies for any sign of the clone they’d seen earlier, but still didn’t spot him. 

She took one step towards Rex, the feeling the equivalent to coming home. But Ahsoka stopped dead in her tracks, the feeling vanishing as she caught movement in the trees behind him. Rex noticed her trepidation and raised an eyebrow, shifting his focus to Lux and his expression hardening. 

It would’ve been a perfectly executed camouflage if she hadn’t been trained to spot exactly what it looked like. Ahsoka had been on enough missions to know what a clone looked like when he was trying to blend in and sneak up on an enemy. The man watching them was nearly perfectly disguised in the thick of the woods, watching the three of them intently, with no idea that Ahsoka was aware of his presence. Her eyes followed the shape of his leg armor, chest plate, and arm gauntlets, going up the trail that led to his helmet. But that task was left incomplete as she saw the clone’s blaster was pointed at the back of Rex’s head. 

“Ahsoka, are you okay? Did you see where he we—”

Her mouth had dropped and her eyes shot open. “Rex, duck!” she shouted, cutting him short. But he was mid sentence and halfway turning around to track her line of sight as the hot, blue plasma fired in his direction. Ahsoka ran towards him, calling desperately on the Force and using what little influence she had to push Rex out of the way. A streak of fire hit the tree beside her head and smoked from the entry site. Realizing he missed, the clone got ready to fire again, this time setting Ahsoka as his target instead of Rex. His gun was large. Disoriented, Rex watched as the person aimed again and his blood ran cold. 

“Jedi!” the familiar voice shouted at her, the word echoing in her montrals as he stepped into view. Ahsoka was frozen, crouched next to Rex as he picked himself up off of the forest floor. 

The last time she’d heard another clone’s voice this clearly…

Rex was shouting something to her, both of his hands on her shoulders. The clone stalked towards her, none of the other fighters or Wookies close enough to notice him. Most of their team had already gone back to the ships already. All she could do was watch as the clone drew closer to her, every step he took minimizing the distance between them. Just the sound of his voice and the glimpse of his armor had taken her back to the Tribunal. She was back aboard the crashing vessel and inhaling the burning debris, the voices of the clones feeling, for the first time in her life, like something unsafe. 

But then his feet weren’t moving anymore and the clone collapsed to the ground. Ahsoka grabbed her head, sucking in air now that the threat had been taken care of. She felt like she could collapse into the grass herself and just let Kashyyyk do her breathing for her. 

Rex had stunned the clone and threw the unconscious man over his shoulders, bringing his bike out of the brush to lay him over the front of it. 

He muttered something to Lux, who was now crouching next to Ahsoka, about making sure she was uninjured and that there were no other enemies still lurking nearby. Whatever Lux was saying to her hadn’t registered as she spotted an avian with green feathers flying high overhead. Her breathing felt like it had returned to normal after having the wind knocked out of her. 

She didn’t know if she’d just been seeing things this entire trip, or if this creature really was following her. 

“Bonteri! I asked you to keep an eye out!” Rex shouted, drawing his blaster and yelling for backup. Ahsoka tore her eyes away from the bird and back down to where chaos had only begun to unfold around her. A guttural clicking sound pierced her montrals, running down her spine and lighting each of her nerve endings on fire. She knew that sound uncomfortably well, the piercing Trandoshan call for more forces sent her body into fight or flight mode. 

“‘Soka, watch out!” came Rex’s cry from between the trees, the pain evident in his warning. A tank had just appeared from where she and Lux had gone earlier, sparking and housing both a driver and a Trandoshan on the gun. It was the same one she’d stunned earlier. And this was the same tank that Lux was supposed to have blown up. 

She took off running and lunged into the brush, using her elbows to take cover behind the cluster of small trees that her speeder bike was still hidden in. Blaster fire shrieked past her. Once. Twice. A deafening crack landed. The raiders manning the malfunctioning tank shot the tree, causing pieces of wood to splinter off in every which way. The next blast screamed past her, sounding small at first before growing immensely in volume. Suddenly the heat on Kashyyyk had grown tenfold. Ahsoka’s calves were getting warm and steadily growing warmer until her entire body was encased in a heavy, uncomfortable heat. The bike exploded from the interior out in a matter of seconds, flinging debris in her direction. Rex’s blaster was already withdrawn, gripped firmly in her hand as she protected her head. 

Her vision was blurry and her senses convoluted as the fire grew, montrals ringing with the impact. Ahsoka looked up at the flames that had already towered high and licked up the base of the trees. Shots continued around her and she sensed someone coming closer. She began to scramble around on the forest floor, looking for an exit before one of the shots actually landed on its intended target. Even in her disoriented state, she could see someone’s arm pinned underneath some of the debris. 

Immediately, she thought it was Rex, just based on the shape of the armor. But his wasn’t camouflaged like that. That was the clone he’d just put across his speeder. The fire was spreading fast, fragments of her bike were everywhere, and then a pair of white boots stopped in front of her. 

Rex’s hand was already extended towards her, his helmet tossed aside and his amber eyes swimming with emotion. She grabbed his forearm and he helped her to stand, checking to make sure she still had her blaster. Ahsoka had also grabbed up his helmet before it was forgotten. He scanned her features quickly, seeing the blood on her arm and removing his cloak without a second thought and placing it over her and then running. 

“Rex, we have to help him!” she coughed, slowing down before they got any further. 

He didn’t let her stay put for long. “Who, Ahsoka? The Trandoshan who just tried to blow you up?” The pain of nearly losing her twice in a matter of minutes was deeply laced in his voice.

“The clone! I saw him through the flames!” she shouted over the rain of blaster fire spraying in their direction.

Rex yanked her down to duck with him and evade the continuous barrage of plasma. “Ahsoka, he’s still on the bike!” 

And sure enough, Ahsoka could see where Rex’s speeder sat up ahead. The clone was still lying unconscious across it. Ahsoka swallowed, the realization taking hold. There were two clones. She handed Rex his helmet and ran back towards the enemy, dodging the burning branches that had begun to fall. 

“Ahsoka!” Rex called, stunning the clone on the bike once more so that he could run after her and not lose his brother. 

The smoke was growing, beginning to fog her cleared vision and build up in her lungs. Ahsoka placed an arm over her nose to minimize the smoke that she was inhaling. She ran towards the bike, finding the arm pinned underneath and the body that belonged to it. 

Even if he was dead, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t try. Ahsoka kicked the hot machinery off of him and pulled on his arms, careful to keep an eye out for any potential burns or injuries. She adjusted to put his arms in the bend of her elbow, dragging him away from the fire with the strength of her back. 

Rex was beside her in seconds, his presence alone letting her know that everything would be okay. Together, they hauled the clone to the speeder, placing him on the back of the bike. Rex checked for a pulse and found it. The clone was still alive.

Slotting herself in behind him, Ahsoka’s movements were as fluid as his, falling back into the practices that they were conditioned for. Ahsoka then placed his helmet over his head, secured it, and wrapped an arm around his middle for balance. 

The raider continued its sloppy assault with the tank behind him, coming closer and moments away from causing more damage. Ahsoka ground her teeth and whipped around, finding her target easily and narrowing her sights. The scaly sleemo snarled, baring its teeth as it locked onto her. Her fingers flexed and she closed one eye, exhaling just as Rex had taught her. She squeezed the trigger, finding the spot she wanted and sending hot plasma barreling towards the tank. The hot streak of blue felt like it had moved in slow motion and it hit exactly where she’d intended — swallowed perfectly by the gun of the tank. Her finger hovered over the trigger, ready to pull again if she needed, but the Trandoshan’s eyes went wide with fear, the AT-tank creaking and tilting downwards before finally erupting. 

Massive flames shot up behind them, gaining on their bike as Rex sped away. The impact rattled the ground, pushing her flush against Rex’s back. Ahsoka’s hand pressed into the front of Rex’s armor, holding on for dear life but feeling herself start to slip anyway. She tried to reholster her blaster to gain more balance and keep the clone behind her in place, but the effort was to no avail. A fall at this speed would mean a week in a bacta tank that Saw didn’t have. Her own body weight worked against her, the ground a blur of green getting closer, the Force out of reach. 

Rex felt her slip and acted quickly, a strong hand reaching behind her and grabbing hold of the underside of her thigh, pulling her up and ensuring that she was properly in the seat. His hand stayed firmly on her until Ahsoka was finally able to properly secure both arms around his middle.

She pressed her face into his back, having lost her goggles at some point during the bike explosion, and closed her eyes, feeling her chest shudder as they made their way back to the ships. They traveled through the dust that Saw and his people had left, the only sign that they hadn’t been left on the planet was Lux’s bike ahead in the distance. 

They had two more people on Rex’s bike than was it was designed for, causing it to drag and not reach the speeds that it was meant to. Ahsoka couldn’t help but think about the fact that they hadn’t even spotted the second clone. If the first one wasn’t the contact, then was the second one their guy? She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking that out of her mind and fixating solely on getting back to the ship. Who was or wasn’t the contact was secondary to getting off of this rock, preferably with Saw’s team. 

Opening her eyes carefully so as to not get dirt in them, Ahsoka looked behind her, finding that they’d just made it past the first village from this morning. These trees were familiar. The familiar sound of LAAT gunships approaching began to reach her montrals. 

It was going to be a miracle if they could pull this off. 

They arrived at the rendezvous minutes later. Lux was pulling his bike inside of the second ship, which was still grounded. But Saw’s was already beginning to lift off of the grass. Bonteri’s eyes grew wide when Rex didn’t slow down, attempting to hop over the other bikes before he became part of Rex’s. 

He drove the bike straight up the ramp, bringing it to a sharp stop and cornering Lux between it and the walls of the vessel. They were running out of time. Rex couldn’t even let himself take pleasure in giving Bonteri the fright of his life for nearly costing Ahsoka hers. But they couldn’t stop here. The ship Lux was in was filled to the brim with equipment and fighters alike. 

Rex grabbed up one trooper and Ahsoka grabbed the other, running as fast as their feet could carry them so as to not miss Saw’s ship. Ahsoka, as strong as she was, fell behind him. She powered through, lifting the weight of the trooper like her life depended on it because it did. Even if the trooper tried to kill her as soon as he regained consciousness, she wouldn’t let Rex down. Rex noticed her slowing and took hold of her forearm, feeling her latch onto his as he helped them cover the last stretch of distance. 

The ramp was still lowered, with two fighters already waiting on them. They shook their heads and looked at Saw to confirm that they could assist. He gave the reluctant nod and so Rex hoisted the clones up to them one after the other, motioning for Ahsoka to step in after. He took hold of her waist and helped her jump to reach the arms of the fighters, not worrying about himself leaving the ground until she was safely inside. Once she was, Ahsoka layed on the floor of the ship, making sure a fighter had taken hold of her leg before reaching out for Rex. She was halfway hanging off the ramp and in the air, but Rex’s trust in her never wavered. 

He grabbed hold of her waiting arms and his feet left the ground, the fighters helping Ahsoka to drag him in. Pulling himself up, Rex immediately found Ahsoka and felt himself relax. They’d made it. He sighed and pulled her to him, squeezing her tightly and uncaring about the presence of the fighters standing next to them. She held onto him, slotting her arms under his and trying to settle her breathing. 

One of the fighters cleared their throat and so Rex reluctantly loosened his hold and let her go. His arms ran down the length of hers and saw the blood that had soaked through his cloak. His expression dropped immediately, moving the fabric out of the way and taking her arm. “Ahsoka, you've been shot,” he spoke, his voice breaking. 

She didn’t even realize it until Rex pointed it out, the adrenaline still coursing in her veins. The last raider had grazed her upper arm. It was deep.

“We need bacta,” he said frantically, looking at the other fighters and then up at Saw. 

“We don’t have any. It’s on Bonteri’s ship,” the pilot replied. 

Ahsoka let Rex back her against the wall. He tore a strip of fabric away from his cloak and began to wrap it around her arm like a bandage. She winced at the stinging pain shooting up her arm, but still unable to feel the full effect of the injury yet. Biting her lip, she watched as the ramp began to retract. The LAATs had begun descending near where the smoke was still billowing and Ahsoka took pride in knowing all the Wookies had taken a transport far from the site. 

She sighed as Rex finished tying off the bandage and then leaned her head on his shoulder, watching as an avian settled atop one of the trees, flapping its wings and swishing its long tail. 

It was a green convor and it was looking right at her — not at Saw’s ship, but her. She remembered the species from her time on Wasskah, Kiros, and then again from when she and Rex had gone to Daro. Something was familiar about the creature, but Ahsoka couldn’t place it… One thing was for certain though, convors were not native to Kashyyyk.