#he has a body count in the trillions

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Something that I don't think gets talked about enough:

The fact that Ruin is good with kids

Yeah, it kinda comes with the territory of being a daycare attendant, but still. Before he got his current body and was still broken, while pretending to be cured, he was in the daycare’s ballpit as the resident "ballpit shark." He was entertaining the kids and playing with them, and despite how he looked, the kids would've had to like him a decent amount, since he was never asked to leave the daycare at any point during that window of time

I read something before about how, in Ruin's dimension, there's a chance that he (as a carrier of the virus and not someone who was affected by it) may or may not have had to go against his childcare programming and kill kids to blend in with the affected glamrocks, so they wouldn't get suspicious and try to dismantle him or anything

The bit about what he did in his dimension is just a thought that someone had that really stuck with me, and I don't remember who came up with it, unfortunately, but it's still at least relatively legit that despite whatever he had to do or go through in the past, it doesn't affect him anymore, and he's still someone the kids liked being around

Which. Considering some of the things he's said and done, is pretty cool to me

[withonly-sweetheart]

di leon kennedy doing pushups ;) inspired by this (suggestive) art by @bunnivievve because i think artists have too much power. lowkey im typing this out so fast rn im tweaking i have exams tomorrow NOOOOOOOO-

<><><><>

your husband joined the police force. great. awesome. what a wonderful sight, at least it is for all the people watching on the outside. the picture perfect couple; a loving wife and a valiant husband to match.

what they never saw were the late nights up, studying the same textbook about a trillion times over, pretty much memorizing the goddamn contents of it before stumbling into your bed.

his body might be warm but that warmth always abandons you in what seems like a second, the snap of his fingers, because it's become a recurring instance that he's left early to train.

always making good impressions, that man. and you're proud of him, you have to be and you're not ashamed to show it. you've seen his growth, his courage that he displays, the hurt he has to suffer through all to keep the city safe. his city, where you are. his heart.

which is why it comes as a surprised when your husband, a man you've been married to for seven years, comes up to you with a bashful expression, eyes darting left and right, grazing all the corners of the world.

"do you... uhm... think... i'm strong?" you blink, dazed.

"why? what's wrong?"

"well, some of my higher ups had some concerns about... strength. they wanted me to 'strengthen my core'." he chuckles. "whatever that means."

"and you came to me for that," you drone.

"i've seen you do all those exercises around the house!" he protests. "can't you just teach me a few?"

"first of all, those are to help with cramps, and second, no." it seems like he's given up, but you know him well enough to know that that will never be the case.

"aw, c'mon, please?" he murmurs, taking your hand into his, caressing the bottom of your knuckles, rubbing soothing circles into your fingers. "just once?"

so you find yourself relenting to the man who always knows what to say to get you to crack. maybe next time you should be more demanding, hm?

needless to say, it's all made up for when you stretch out into the first pose, a simple sitting position with your legs extended fully, fingertips reaching the tips of your toes.

leon nods, and he gets the sitting part right. but when he tries to copy your movements, he hisses and leans back, groaning with the effort.

"what's wrong, officer kennedy?" you tease. "scared you'll break a hip bone?"

"quiet," he grumbles. "i'm just a little sore from yesterday."

"of course, of course, a very busy day running errands, such as picking up doughnuts, might i add?"

he scowls at you and tries again, and again, but every time he can't seem to cope with the fact your flexibility, even at your maturing age, is better than his, even with all his rigorous training.

"looks like you couldn't do it," you say smugly, smirking directly at him, angling your body to face him. "told you so."

"i think it's my turn now," he says, creeping towards you. and this time he seems to have the prowess of a panther, easily slotting himself into place above you.

"your turn for what?" you ask, somewhat suggestively. he grins.

"how 'bout i show you what i've learned?"

fuck, you'll never doubt him again, will you? his sweet, submissive girl, arching beneath him, one hand pressed on the floor near your head, keeping him supported. the other is clasped behind his back, in an ethereal tilt that has his chest hair hitting all the right angles of the dying sun.

your knee is thrown over his shoulder, and the position should be awkward, you think, yet it feels as natural as anything. he pistons his hips further into you, and he's been mumbling something in your ear since he started.

now that you can hear him better through his rough, sloppy pants, you hear a steady rhythm. "twenty-five... twenty-six..."

he's counting, you realize after your mind-shattering orgasm, whimpering underneath him as he finishes, muscles flexing in a manner you'd never thought to admire until you realize why.

he's counting the pushups, god, that's all he's been doing this whole time. and you'd be damned if you didn't send a silent prayer of thanks back to the academy, where they trained him to do this.

but you're sure this isn't how they expected him to apply it in real life. hey, what can you say? seems like you're finally enjoying your husband's career and all the perks it comes with.

"my pretty wife, going around doing all those stretches, driving me fucking crazy bending over like that," he rambles, lowering himself to shower your face in messy kisses before tilting his head back to the side with a hiss, lifting himself back up.

back up and back down, a slower pace with his upper body while his lower half rails into you, and all you can do is lie there, helpless to what he gives you, craving more yet somehow satiated at the same time.

"yeah, mmm, fuck, just like that-" he breaks off his counting to whisper sweet nothings in your ear for the second time that evening, pushing his spend back in while you grasp for purchase on his biceps, feeling the hardened muscle lurch back towards you as you dig your nails deep into his skin.

"needed that, didn't you?" you whisper breathlessly after he collapses onto the hard wooden floor next to you. his eyes shine with effort and pride, and after a low exhale, he immediately scoops you up.

he carries you back to the bedroom, where he lies you down onto the comforters, making sure you're comfortable before trailing up and down your neck with soft, carefully measured kisses once again.

"w-what're you doing?" you murmur, twitching under the overstimulation. leon's eyes have shifted to a deeper color, a darker lilt to his eyes when he reaches your gaze.

"i can do better than that, sweetheart."

"better?" you ask jokingly, because what could make him better? anything better than that is a menace to society, you decide.

he sighs, shaking his head before cupping your body with his hand again, rubbing your skin in such a doting gesture that you don't expect his next words.

"i said a hundred, sweetheart. i didn't even make it to fifty."

series masterlist

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 4

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: you accidentally overhear a conversation between miguel and his ai at work.

wc: 4.5k

warnings/tags: domestic lifestyle, mentions of violence, mentions of choking and death, swearing, mentions of office sex, strippers, sex workers, strip club, private dances, cuddling

author’s note: he’s so lana del rey coded guys

Anybody with experience knew that trying to keep twenty third graders together was like herding cats. Anybody with further experience knew that keeping twenty third graders together in a sharp, sleek, trillion-dollar facility like Alchemax was like herding cats who were soaking wet and high on all the catnip they could have stuffed their stupid little faces with in the span of five minutes.

“Alexander,” you snapped as you helped your coworker count little bodies as they piled off the bus. “If I have to tell you one more time to keep your hands off James, I’m going to drive this bus myself back to school and give you a fifty-page packet while everyone else here has fun.”

While your words had the effect you hoped they did, you wouldn’t exactly classify a field trip to Alchemax as fun. It was a megacorporation that dabbled in exploits from clean energy to genetics to god knew whatever else they did in there between those fancy metal walls. The building looked as though it should have come straight from a sci-fi film compared to the other foundations on the block, all floor-to-ceiling windows and fifty-some floors and armed guards that stood at the front doors. Certainly not a place to take a field trip with a bunch of nine year olds. Again, you would have thought some place like the zoo or even an interactive museum would have been better, but when the principal wanted something, she got it.

To be honest, you had a suspicion she was hooking up with one of the guards here, but you had nothing to prove your theory.

Like the pack of raging little animals that they were, your students filed across the front way of the building and up the stone stairs to the doors, where they waited in a mass of wiggles and excited spasms. Each of them held their partner’s hand, a rule you pressed with each field trip. Going into a freaky building like this, you almost wished you had a hand to hold yourself.

“That’s all of them,” said your coworkers, one of the three teachers who had come to chaperone the trip. She looked up from her clipboard of names, double checking each kid as you both followed the crowd of children up the steps. “Christ, this is going to be a shitshow. I just know we’re going to be escorted out of here after… I don’t know, a molecular leveler gets demolished by tiny, sticky hands.”

You snuffed out a little snort, reaching up to adjust the necklace perched about your collarbones. In your free hand, you carried a coffee cup that still had the tab in; it wasn’t for you. “I think it’ll be alright,” you said, but not nearly as confidently as you would have liked. “We had an entire assembly over this.”

“And since when has that ever helped?” She followed your movements, her eyes trailing over your form. You blinked at her. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Hah! No…!” Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, you turned away and pressed your lips to your sleeve, trying to wipe off some of the excess lipstick you’d applied right before leaving the school. Fuck, it was too much, wasn’t it?

Definitely too much for popping in to visit during a school field trip when you should have been watching your kids.

After passing through multiple tall, sleek-looking metal detectors (and scolding a few kids for bringing their phones when they were specifically told to leave them at school), you met the man who would be giving the tour of the facility in the lobby. Overhead, modern-art-classified light fixtures hung from the ceiling like someone had captured starlight and crammed it into bulbs. A cafeteria filled with scientists and researchers and everyone in between stood to your left, each of them donned in a stark white lab coat. Some of them spoke on phones, others clacked away on laptops and futuristic-looking tablets with such an intensity you would have thought they were taking a test for their lives. A few of them spared a glace or two at your group, but they didn’t last long. Apparently field trips to designated areas in the building were normal.

You heard the tour guide talking animatedly to the kids, but his words didn’t quite register as you kept your head on a swivel, searching out something specific. After a moment, when you leaned back on the heels of your feet, you found what you were looking for; the elevators.

“Hey,” you said to your coworker as the kids began to move deeper into the lobby, “will you cover for me? I’ve got to run to the restroom real quick.”

After they had moved along to where they couldn’t see you, you grasped the coffee cup tighter in your grasp and made a beeline for the elevators. Your footsteps against the polished marble seemed deafening as you quickened your pace, realizing the cup wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier. How fucking humiliating would it be if you brought him cold coffee? There was a part of you that knew, really, he wouldn’t mind, but the larger, more insecure bit insisted he would mentally cringe and throw it out the second you left.

Fuck, you thought. This man had you whipped.

You had just reached the elevators, reaching out to tap the call button, when a voice called out to you from your left. “Excuse me,” said a woman sitting behind a large metal desk you hadn’t seen in your haste. She eyed you from behind thick lenses, brow quirked over the top of her monitor. “We do ask that you stay with your group, if you’re here for a tour.”

“Oh! Uhm…” Gripping the cup tight enough that you felt the cardboard bend ever so slightly against your fingers, you padded closer to the desk and put on your best tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I was just bringing a drink to someone who worked here. He’s, uhm… he’s -”

Before you could force your tongue to get out some kind of excuse, some kind of title, the woman was pulling out a small paper sheet from a drawer beside her leg. “Are you a significant other?” she asked, pulling a visitor sticker from the sheet and leaning forward to press it to your shirt. She didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer before sitting back down and clicking away at her screen. “Just a security question before you go; name and floor number?”

Goddamn; suddenly you were so fucking glad some people sucked at their jobs.

Taking a breath, you inhaled and plastered on a grin. “O’Hara,” you replied. “Floor seven.”

“Alright,” she said without looking up again. “You’re free to go up. Please stay in the public hallways.”

The entire elevator ride up to the third floor, you were unable to keep a goofy, surely stupid-looking smile from your face. You liked the idea of being called Miguel’s ‘significant other.’ It made your stomach clench, made your pulse race and your heart thunder and your core throb with a dull ache. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that kind of role, being deserving of such a title.

Coming home from your teaching job not to immediately race to do your makeup in loud, flashy colors, but to stay in the warm, basking glow of a house or a roomy apartment each evening. The keys would always fit just right in the lock, never click or jump. The air would be filled with the sound of a little girl’s quiet giggles from her bedroom, along with the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Small soccer cleats by the door. Trinkets and photographs and everything else that made the house a home strewn about the rooms. And a tall, sinewy figure that towered over you there to greet you when you walked inside, all warm smiles and wide, calloused hands on your hips and full lips to press against yours with enough gentleness and passion and adoration to keep you on your toes the rest of the night.

A bed big enough for the both of you, with enough blankets and comforters that you wouldn’t be cold even if you couldn’t afford to keep the heat on. Sheets and pillows that knew your white-knuckled grip, that would mold to your hands as you laid out bare for him and allowed him to worship the very ground you walked on with his mouth, his fingers, what lay beneath his slim, narrow hips…

By the time the elevator reached the seventh floor and the doors opened with a gentle chime, your cheeks were hot and your palms were sweaty enough you were sure you’d heated the coffee back up to steaming.

Wandering through the halls of Alechmax’s third floor and feeling incredibly out of place amongst the scientists flipping through reports and chattering on calls, you shuffled from office to office, searching for that familiar name that made your stomach flip. It seemed an awkwardly insane amount of time before you finally spotted his name on a plate beside a door left slightly ajar. You approached and smoothed out your shirt, preparing to present the coffee, when you heard voices inside.

“This isn’t like you, boss,” a woman was saying, her voice slightly warped from speaking over a computer. “You’re always preaching to the others that messing with canon events and triggering changes that aren’t meant to happen is wrong. You know it’s wrong.”

From across the room, a voice you recognized as Miguel’s scoffed. “This one is different. I’m balancing out the changes. I’ve got it under control.”

“Some control you’ve got. You do realize you’ve already altered enough canon events that even this universe itself doesn’t know where it’s going anymore? The bad guys here aren’t supposed to be in jail. Things aren’t supposed to get better. You know why? Because here, there is no Spiderman.”

Spiderman? Your gut clenched slightly as you inched closer to the gap between the door and the frame. If they were talking about Spiderman, then surely - he must have come from here. Some of those conspiracy theorists were right.

“Like I said, Lyla,” Miguel replied, his voice a touch deeper than it had been just a moment ago, “I have it under control.”

The woman named Lyla went on despite the dangerous rumble in Miguel’s throat you’d never heard before. “Here’s another one. That friend of yours? She was supposed to be engaged by now to her boyfriend. Her actual boyfriend. They’re supposed to have the whole angsty proposal thing, go back and forth for another three months, then end things. When he ends her. Asphyxiation by choking for approximately seven minutes, by the way.”

For a long, long while, there was silence. You realized you had been holding your breath, trying desperately to connect these pieces that just refused to fit together. What on earth were they talking about? Universes? Spiderman? Someone getting choked to death by their fiance? It sounded like a bad movie plot.

“Lyla?” came Miguel’s voice.

“Yeah, boss?”

“...Shut down and mute all alerts.”

Again, there came that horrible, palpable silence. Lyla seemed to be in some kind of shock. “Boss, I’m not sure that’s really what you want. You’re in a state of denial. Maybe you should take a break there, come back to headquarters. Jessica’s tried reaching out. Peter and Ben, too. I advise spending time with friends to decrease levels of -”

“Shut down. Now. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“...Yes, boss.”

When you heard his footsteps crossing the room, you took a small step back and clutched the surely-lukewarm coffee to your stomach. You’d never heard him take such a tone before, always used to that warm, content baritone that rumbled comfortably from deep within his throat. This kind of voice you’d just heard was cold and emotionless, without an ounce of feeling in a single one of his words.

You took a breath and exhaled it softly.

Then, as if he heard it from inside his office, the door was opened at an alarming rate to reveal Miguel on the other side. His brow was furrowed and a line had appeared at the corner of his mouth with his frown, obviously expecting one of his coworkers to be intruding at his door. Yet when his gaze met yours, when his frame towered over your smaller one, he realized just who you were, recognized that gleam in your eyes when you locked stares. His gaze softened like an airbag deflating. That line by his mouth disappeared. His tensed figure slowly relaxed, his shoulders coming down from where they’d been set.

For a short moment, you simply stared at one another. You were forced to admit to yourself that tone he’d spoken with had intimidated you.

It reminded you of the one Ferris used when he cornered you and threatened to take off for good.

Finally, Miguel’s lips parted. “Hey,” he breathed out, like he was trying his damn fucking best not to let that tone leak through to you.

You swallowed and slowly allowed yourself to relax. He wouldn’t ever speak to you like that. You didn’t know how you knew. You could just sense it in the warmth that poured from him, from the gentle honey of his dark eyes, from the way he held himself and carried his weight and set down each step like he knew the outcome of each and every movement he made. “Hi.”

Miguel inhaled, as if he were relieved you decided to speak. “Sorry about that,” he said and gestured over his shoulder into his office. “We’ve been testing out some new AI lately. Throwing it curveballs to see if it can keep up.” A small smile graced his face, close-lipped and sweet. Again, you realized - he never smiled with his teeth. “It hasn’t been going well.”

Like a dam breaking and letting a flood of water into a canal, relief rocketed through your systems and worked to ease your stress. Of course he had been talking to a computer. You doubted he could ever speak to a woman like that, much less anyone else. And that also explained all the wild things they had been discussing. Universes? Some poor chick getting murdered by her fiance?

Just the complicated workings of an out of sorts AI.

“I have to admit, I was wondering,” you let yourself laugh. “But, you know… who am I to question Alchemax’s best geneticist?” You watched in fascination as the corner of his mouth quirked upward and one eye squinted with the smile. God, you could watch him do that all damn day. Suddenly remembering the coffee in your hands, you held it up to him with an embarrassed grin. “I meant to bring you this while it was still hot, but I guess you know how hellish it can be getting a bunch of third graders on a bus.”

He took the cup with a rather confused expression.

“The field trip,” you said and folded your hands in front of you, because you knew if you didn’t, you would surely reach out and touch his face. “It’s today. You signed the permission slip about a month ago.”

Miguel blinked a few times, then took a breath and lifted his face. “Right. Right, sorry. Must have slipped my mind. I’ve - heh.” He shook his head and reached up to scratch at the delicate skin of his throat in that way he did when he spoke to you. “More going on than you would know.”

“Believe me,” you said softly, looking down at your shoes. You thought of dishes still in the sink, and band practices in your living room, and threats of leaving you all on your own because, really, that was truly your worst fear. “I know.”

You thought from there you would smile and turn, say something like, ‘Well, just thought I’d stop by,’ and leave him in the doorway of his office so that he wouldn’t see the yearning swimming in your irises. Maybe if you were feeling bold, you’d reach out and touch his wrist for just a moment before pulling away and practically sprinting back to the elevators.

But when you went to turn, he beat you to all of that. He reached out to touch your upper arm, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing along the fabric of your shirt, and he asked if you’d like to come inside, sit down for a minute. And inside his office, he told you what his department was working on, explained it in ways he knew you would understand. He spoke of a molecular collider that, in theory, would open a doorway to parallel universes.

You could have spent hours sitting in that office that smelled like his cologne, listening to him talk.

But life moved on. You were forced to pull yourself away, travel back downstairs and hold Gabriella’s hand like you hadn’t just thought about Miguel folding you over his desk, hushing your desperate cries, and gripping onto your hips with a hold that would bruise. You were forced to drive home and argue with Ferris about dirty laundry and his new keyboard girl constantly texting him. You were forced to land in the dressing room at The Menagerie, carefully dotting rhinestones to your collarbones in the mirror while the other girls buzzed around you.

“And he brought you flowers, too?” asked Shawna from where she was spread out on the couch across the room. She sighed deeply and hung her head over the armrest. “Girl. When are you going to stop playing and give that little girl of his a new mom?”

“You know why I can’t,” you replied as you pressed a small plastic rhinestone to your skin.

Zara met your eyes in the mirror as she grabbed the back of your chair, already dressed in her colorful, skimpy outfit and her mask. “We know why,” she hissed, but not at you. “That Ferris dude has got you held under the water, babe. Serious ball and chain kind of deal here. You really need to do something.”

If you could have found the strength to, you would have rolled your eyes at their words. But you really couldn’t. You were nothing short of exhausted after the field trip today, so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were unable to keep your eyes open while you were on stage. God, you loved your teaching gig, but sometimes it was so, so stressful. And so was this job. Teaching, dancing, disciplining, teasing. They all collided into one big, neverending hurricane of fatigue.

“Maybe in another universe,” you found yourself mumbling under your breath, remembering everything Miguel had told you about this morning, “I could have been a flower shop keeper.”

Behind you in the mirror, a few of the girls looked at you with strange expressions.

Before you could go back to applying your rhinestones, one of the newer girls entered the room and pushed her mask up so that her face was visible. She looked to you. “Boss said you’re canceled on the stage,” she said, and you hoped for a moment you were going to go home early, before she added, “Guy paid for a private dance in Room 7.”

“Goddammit.” You groaned and leaned forward to rest your forehead on your arms. You were way too fucking tired to do a private dance right now.

“M’sure he won’t be that bad,” said Shawna as she let herself slip further over the arm of the couch.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you stood, finished off your rhinestones the best you could, and slipped your cold porcelain mask over your features. At least like this, your customer wouldn’t be able to see your exhausted eyes and lost expression.

The beating, thrumming music of the club seemed to vibrate your very soul in your chest as you wound your way past patrons and around the stage, sure to throw half-assed smiles at the people you were forced to wiggle past just a bit too close. The short corridor leading to the private rooms were lit with neons, playing with shadows across your costumed form as you found Room 7 and gently knocked on the door. You blinked a few times to clear the blur from your eyes, then cleared your throat and stepped inside.

“Hi, handsome,” you said as you turned to shut the door - your classic line, no matter who the buyer. “How are you doing tonight?” You turned around to face your customer, then came to a complete stop. Even your heart jumped a beat or two.

The man you’d seen in the shadows that night of the robbery, the man with the little scar on his collarbone, had gotten to his feet from his chair when you entered the room. He wore that same spider mask, still had his dark hair slicked back over his head.

You swallowed thick as you felt his eyes traveling over your form behind the gaps in his mask. “Hello… Spiderman.”

He hesitated for a moment, like he was lost on just what to do. “Hey,” he said in an equally soft voice. It was muted in the same way it was behind his spandex mask.

You placed your hands behind your back as you leaned up against the door - and locked it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“...You asked.”

“Did I?” Putting on your best flirty, coy smile, you slowly crossed the room to meet him. “I thought all I said was… if you stopped by, to ask for me.” You reached out to touch the edge of his shirt, past his dress jacket, and skim your knuckle over the tan skin of his exposed collarbone. That scar sat just where you’d seen it before. “But you’re here.”

“...I’m here.”

There was a soft lilt to his voice, one that you had not heard before. Then again, you hadn’t spoken to him much, just in the bank and on the rooftop. But it seemed long enough to know that it wasn’t normal.

“What’s wrong, Spiderman?” you asked gently, taking a step closer. Your knees brushed against his, and when you gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, he sat back in the chair positioned in the center of the room. You gingerly climbed up so that your knees rested on either side of his thighs, so that your center was just inches above his. You didn’t miss the slight hitch in his breath, the way his eyes widened ever just so behind that spider mask. “Have a bad day? Some criminals get the better of you?”

You knew, in a way, that he wasn’t going to do it himself, so you took his wide, warm hands in your own and rested them on your hips. They stayed there for a long, long moment. Then they moved not down, toward your ass and your core, but up. They felt tentatively along your middle, his thumb tickling your stomach just a bit, and stopped just below your breasts before sliding back down again.

“No,” he replied in a low, raspy voice. He paused when you slowly lowered yourself so that you were seated on his lap now, your hips pressed against his. You felt his thigh twitch beneath your ass. “Pretty good day, actually. Just… heard some bad news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hummed, letting your fingers drag along the delicate skin of his throat, just barely shaded with stubble. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

You expected him to hesitate, then make a request. Strip for him. Dance. Whisper in his ear all the things you wanted to do to him.

But there came none of that. Instead of touching you like you were used to, his hands - which were still respectfully resting against your middle - slowly slid across to your back and gently, gingerly, pulled you against him so that you were lying against his front. So that your chests were pressed together. So that you were slumped comfortably in his lap. He held you there against him, one hand on the small of your back and the other on the base of your neck.

“Just this,” he murmured.

You were stunned, to say the least. This was not the first time a customer just wanted to hold, or be held, or anything of the sort. But even then, those touches were desperate and needy, clingy and awkward. But this was everything they were not. This was gentle and considerate, kind and… romantic. Like he didn’t just need to be touched, he needed to be touched by you.

When you inhaled you thought you recognized the scent you breathed in. But with his body so close and his hands holding you so securely, you dismissed it like a runaway thought.

“Here.” Spiderman pulled you back for just a second, raising his fingers up to pull at the ribbon keeping your mask on your face, mindful not to catch any hair. Your breath hitched when he set the monarch mask aside, your face now bare as you stared down at him. This was against the rules. You were not supposed to do this. Customers were not supposed to see your face, know you like this.

But this?

This was far beyond any rules.

Your lips parted and your heart thundering in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it, you found your own fingers slowly reaching up to graze at his porcelain mask. Your fingertips grazed the edge, began to hitch it up…

He caught your wrist in a hold that was so gentle, yet so commanding, that you immediately let your hand drop. But there was no venomous feeling there, no edge. Just a warning. A soft, quiet warning.

Exhaling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and settled yourself against his wide, powerful frame. Your face nestled itself into the crook of his neck, your chin resting atop his shoulder, as his hands came back to hold your form against his. One of his thumbs glided across your shoulder blade, sending goosebumps rising across your skin.

Gripping onto his jacket collar, you opened your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror that faced the back of the chair. Here you couldn’t see the mask over Spiderman’s face, just his slicked-back hair and his broad shoulders keeping you caged against him. His head tilted toward yours, your temples resting together.

For a moment, in your exhaustion and fatigue, you thought he resembled someone else you knew. But you let the thought pass, instead shutting your eyes and basking in his soft, gentle, perfect touch.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood

[yeoja-dream]

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3,100

“You want to WHAT?” You asked him, eyes wide, 

“Lower your voice! Someone next to you is gonna hear you yelling like that and call the bouncer.” He hissed. 

“Well I’m thinking that might be the right idea considering what the hell you just proposed to me.” you hissed back. 

“It’s not that crazy!” He insisted. “I step out of line, you blast me with radiant damage as hard as you can and if you don’t outright kill me, you’ll take the wind out of my sails plenty long enough to get far away from me.” 

You regarded him for a moment. “You JUST got through saying you had SIX mates. I know having two or three is rare, but you expect me to believe that you might have a SEVENTH mate and it might be me? We were vibing just now but I don’t know if we were vibing that hard.” 

“I also told you it's the same with each of my mates, something tells me I need to be somewhere, and by a crazy coincidence, we meet.” He adds. “I will know right away!” 

“Ugh!” You sighed, exasperated, resting your head in your hands. “You know 3 hours ago I walked into this club single, happy, looking to get drunk and have an easy fuck to forget a shitty day, and I’m walking out having saved a woman from a demon rapist, pissed off or turned on that demon rapist, and now I have a marriage proposal from the aether.”

“I can help with some of those issues, I think? You lost me there for a second I’m not going to lie to you.” 

You didn’t reply. 

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you. We had a great conversation over a strange and scary happenstance, and if you would rather go our separate ways as strangers having never learned the truth, then I respect that choice. Or the cheap fuck, if that option is still on the table.” 

You smacked him for the later remark. You sat, contemplative, and as if sensing you needed space, Jungkook excused himself for a cigarette, leaving you alone with your watered-down whiskey and your thoughts. 

I mean what are the chances right? He takes a little nibble, he spits it out, I take him back to mine, and we test out that vampiric stamina. It’s basically impossible that 1 person has 7 soul mates! You reasoned. On the other hand the one in a million, no billion, no TRILLION chances that you are this guy’s 7th sister wife what does that mean? Do I join his commune? They probably have a commune. Am I bonded to his other wives? Are they also vampires? I don’t think I have enough blood to go around. You rub your temples, frustration rising higher and higher in your body. I could also not choose. You reminded yourself. I could go home, forget this man, forget this night, and have everything go back to normal. 

Interrupting your thought process, David approached you. “You look mighty stressed.” 

“Yes!” You just about yelled at him. “Sorry, yes.” You said in a calmer tone. 

“Bar’s chill for the minute, what's up?”

You obviously couldn’t tell him the truth, but what if you were vague? Vague was okay. “I was confronted with a life-altering choice, and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Well, how do you usually make choices?” He asked, leaning back on the bar and crossing his arms. 

“I don’t. I find that fate has a way of making decisions for me.” 

“Well…” He shrugged, digging in his apron pocket. He slid forward a shiny, silver coin on the table. “You can have fate choose for you again.” 

You looked at him, then the coin. It’s my best bet. You thought to yourself, sliding the coin off the bar and into your hand, feeling the weight of it. May this lead me to the path of my destiny you willed into the coin before giving it a toss. 

The coin landed, and you understood what it was you had to do. 

~~~~

You met Jungkook on the street, just as he put a cigarette out on the cold pavement. 

“Hello,” he regarded you warmly. 

“I’ve decided.” You tell him. “Strings of fate and all that horse shite. I will blast the shit out of you if you take more than I tell you.” 

“You have my honor and my word.” He replied, punctuated with a dramatic bow. 

“Remember, blasting! And not the fun kind!” You warned him again, finger pointed sternly. 

“I would be disappointed in you if you gave me anything less.” 

“Anywhere really. I mean somewhere a little private. Like I said I just need a sip and I will know.” 

“Is my house okay? I mean you said you’d fuck me so I’d figure it was alright.” You asked, feeling shy suddenly. 

“Oh yeah, that’s fine!” Jungkook said. “I mean I was joking about the fuck thing I mean I just said it because you said it!”

You looked at him with a strange expression. 

“Not that I wouldn’t! You are extremely attractive! If you wanted to I would definitely be down don’t get me wrong I just-” He cut himself off. “I am making this so much worse for myself, aren’t I?”

“Very much so.” You said as you opened your umbrella and stepped out from under the awning. “Shut up and let’s go before I change my mind. The Uber will be here in a minute.” 

~~~~~

You lived in a one-bedroom place in a modest part of town, inside an apartment block that never seemed to be quiet, with the exception of this moment. Jungkook sat politely at your small kitchen table, you stood and leaned against a kitchen counter, the silence hanging between the two of you only interrupted by the sound of the rain hammering at the window, and the kettle steadily coming to a boil. You regarded him again for a moment, before turning to your cabinets and pulling out two mismatched mugs. 

“The tea will be done in a minute.” You said, ripping open the tea bags, setting one in each cup. A few more minutes of silence passed before Jungkook stood suddenly.

“I’ve never done this before,” He blurted. 

You take a moment to process what it is he could mean by that. He’s mated so he’s certainly not a virgin, seems to be over a hundred so it’s not his first time drinking blood you thought, before your mind wanders further. I did not just invite this man into my home to kill me. Tell me I did not invite this man into my home to murder me. God DAMN it, I fell for his stupid necklace and that incubus is probably waiting for his signal nearby.

“I suggest you explain yourself quickly and clearly, because it is sounding to me like what you’ve never done is have your ass blasted as hard as I am about to.” You said, turning around slowly, eyes locked on him. No funny business dude.

“I wasn’t completely truthful with you before. A lie by omission I guess which doesn’t trip up the necklace but I am going to stop rambling because you seem really justifiably mad.” He said putting his hands up. You took a step closer, energy beginning to crackle at your palms. 

“Every single time I met my mates, I was called to meet them by happenstance. That is true. But every single time they knew, or guessed we might be mates before I did. So I have never personally tested the whole “someone else’s blood or energy should be poison to me” theory.” 

“So you have no idea if this is even going to work!?” You yelled at him, palms crackling further. “So I’ve just invited you into my home so you can what, make a snack out of me?”  

“I know it works!” Jungkook countered, taking a step back as if almost cowering. 

“How?!” You demanded, lowering your magic a bit. You weren’t going to kill him, not yet anyway. 

“30 years ago!” Jungkook blurted nervously. “One of my hyungs, we got into a huge fight and he ran away for a few months. He subsists on energy, and when he tried to take from people that he wasn’t mated to, it poisoned him. Badley. He was starving and as close to death when we finally found him.” 

You look at his necklace and wait. No glow. So he was telling the truth. You lowered your guard completely. 

“Jesus Christ dude you can’t phrase it that way! I thought you were going to say “I’ve never done this before, never murdered!” and then jumped me with that incubus freak.” 

“No, you are right about that and I am really sorry.” He took a step back toward you, sitting back at the table. 

“If you know it works,” You began, pouring the now boiling water into each prepared mug. “You didn’t have to tell me you’d never tried it personally.” You said, placing each up on the table and joining him at the opposite seat. “It has no bearing on the outcome for you, so why did you feel the need to tell me?”

“Ah well,” he began, stirring a scoop of sugar into his tea idly. “I’m a stranger, asking you to make a big leap of faith that sure, benefits you, but also benefits me. I couldn’t sit right with knowing you didn’t have every piece of information I could offer you.”

“I… appreciate that.” You remarked, dumping 3 ice cubes into your tea. “I don’t like to wait for it to cool,” you admitted, somewhat sheepishly. 

“No, I don’t get the impression you do like to wait for much,” Jungkook replied, offering his cup to cheers with yours. You clink mugs and drink your tea in comfortable silence.  

~~~~~

“So how is this done usually?” You asked him, standing face to face in your combined living room and bedroom area. 

“Truthfully?” He asked you.

“Truthfully.” You confirmed. 

“My kind typically have been the stalk you, grab you and lure you into a dark alleyway and drain you of all your blood or charm you with magic and charisma and lure you to a place where we do the same thing, sort of people.” 

“I am confirming that that is not what we are trying to accomplish?” You half-jokingly asked. 

“That is not what we are trying to accomplish.” He confirmed. “I want you to be comfortable. However, wherever would be the most comfortable for you is where I want to do it.” 

“Um, okay.” You looked around. “I guess for me that would be my bed, that isn’t weird right?” 

“Not at all,” He confirmed, allowing you to lead the way. 

“But-” You stopped halfway before getting onto your bed. “It’s just my duvet is white, maybe I should put down a towel? In case things get messy.” 

He scoffed at that. “I am not such a pedestrian, I reckon I have been drinking blood since you were born.” 

“Are you sure about that?” You looked him up and down. Vampires didn’t age, sure, but surely he couldn’t be THAT much older than you, right? 

“If I get so much as a drop on your duvet, I will replace it with any duvet of your choice.” He said, placing his hand on his heart. 

“It doesn’t mean that much when you place your hand over an undead heart.” You said knocking his hand off his own chest. “But you’re not glowing, so I will take your word for it.” You said, sitting down. “Come, sit.” You invited him with a pat on the bed. He obliged. 

“Hey,” You began, after letting a few beats of silence pass. “Do you think we could just lay side by side for a few minutes?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He said, following your lead and sliding himself up the bed, laying comfortably on one side, you on the other. 

A long silence hung in the air. “I fuck strangers and this is somehow the most intimate I’ve been with one ever.” You remarked sarcastically. Jungkook chuckled lightly in response, 

“Me too.” 

More silence hung, heavy in the room. You laid back, eyes boring holes into the ceiling. He too laid, unmoving, this is all on your terms he was communicating. You shut your eyes. 

“What does it feel like?” You whisper. 

“The bite, or the connection?” 

“Both” 

“The bite hurts for a second, but it goes away pretty fast. Vampire venom has powerful numbing properties. Some people even feel peace or euphoria, it's supposed to keep you from running from us once we have you.” He paused before continuing. “The connection is, overwhelming, in a word. Everything in your body turns up to 11, you become very magically charged, emotionally charged, physically charged and, uh, sexually…” He cleared his throat. “Charged.” He finished. 

You sat in silence, digesting that information. You roll over on your side, facing him, he mirrors you. 

You spent a few more minutes, studying his face in earnest. At this proximity, there was a boyishness quality you didn’t notice from far away. It was cute, even, bunny-like, and as you stared at him, you searched your mind, your heart, your soul, desperately looking for recognition, the easy way out, one last chance to avoid the leap of faith. 

“What if I am mated to you?” You whisper

“We will figure it out.”

“How?”  

“Do you trust me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Before we begin, I told you before you might lose some of your sense once we begin. Where is a line too far? Where should I stop you? Where should I stop me?” 

“The troubled, sarcastic, sad part of me knows I can’t trust anyone.” You said, raising your hand to cup his cheek. “But something deep inside of me is telling me that you are truly good people. And for once, I am not going to push this one away.” You whispered, voice wavering. “Just, don’t hurt me, okay?”

He didn’t reply, but he held your gaze. 

“Jungkook?” You ask softly. 

“Hm?” 

“Would you kiss me please?” 

He then scooted closer to you and mirroring the motion you did before, he raised a hand, cupped your face gently, and placed a single, lingering kiss on your lips. He pulled away slightly, but a centimeter, I’m ready, but only when you are, he communicated to you. You closed the gap this time, I’m ready.

The kiss started off slow, chaste, even as two bodies, two energies tentatively explored the other in the more intimate environment. Jungkook was a good kisser, you decided, firm, but not too pushy. He allowed you to set the pace, the intensity, but what you gave he took readily. You parted your lips to him, and he took them greedily, using his free hand to hook around your back and drag you across the bed and completely flush with his body. You found your arm folded into his chest, the building intensity causing you to grip the fabric. You kissed greedily now, hungrily, like lovers long since reunited. It felt good, it felt right, you also decided. Kissing him was like the gentle respect and deep intimacy shared between two people who had loved each other for a long, long time. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, and you wanted more. 

Your arms were at a disadvantage, pinned against his muscular chest, but you used the position to pull yourself closer and closer still. You needed more of him. You wanted more of him. 

“Jungkook…” you whispered against his lips, a plea. 

“I know, God I want you too.” He whispered back his arm like an iron bar across your lower back holding you in place. “But we have to do this first, sex makes everything so messy and confusing.” He broke away from your lips, kissing up your jaw bone stopping at your ear. “I’m gonna do it now, okay?” He whispered. 

“Okay.” You confirmed. You found yourself then, in a swift move on your back with him straddled across your waist. From this angle, his baggy pants tented visibly over his crotch, the sight of which alone wound your core up so tight, you wondered if you’d cum immediately when he slips it in. He didn’t give you long to appreciate the view, as he leaned over you, face to face, and continued to kiss you. Your tongues didn’t battle but danced in harmony, and as you felt your hips rise to grind against the hardness so close to where you needed it, he broke away from your lips again, panting, he again peppered kisses up your jawline, but then down your neck this time gently sucking and licking on his way down, leaving you breathless. He settled on the spot but gave the skin special attention, the sensation of which had you sighing and running your fingers through his hair. 

When he was finally satisfied, he wasted no further time and sank his teeth in, the sensation of which made you yelp in pain. He didn’t lie about the pain. After a brief pause, you felt the sensation of him drinking you in. He swallowed once, came up for a breath, and in that moment, from head to toe, it was like you had both been struck by lightning. 

Overwhelming wasn’t the right word for it. Euphoric. Pure energy crackled and popped at your skin, literal sparks flying off at the points your skin connected. It was painful, you thought, but everything felt so amazing it faded into the background. Joy, pure joy radiated through your body. In fact, you can’t recall a time when you had ever felt this light-hearted and happy.

In the same moment, as euphoria washed over you, Jungkook’s demeanor changed and with a visceral, animalistic grunt, he dove back in sucking at your neck. The sensation was divine. 

“More, more” You found yourself begging again and again. He was like an immovable object in his current positioning, but you allowed yourself the luxury with your now-free hands to slip under his baggy shirt, relishing in the corded muscle of his back and biceps. 

The more he drank, the closer it seemed you got to the edge of something great. As something darker and harder to control overcame Jungkook, he didn’t notice when your enthusiastic pleas for more turned into incoherent babbling, and only when he had his fill, and the dark that consumed him receded, did he finally realize that you had fallen silent for quite some time. 

He pulled away from your neck and examined your body in horror. Limp, and unmistakably ashen. You looked like a corpse. 

“Y/N,” He said, panic in his voice, shaking your shoulder. “Y/N!” he said louder now, yelling and shaking you as violently as he dared. 

Fuck.

Fuck.

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

I told you guys one after the other! Like I said in the last post, I'm working on intertwined, that update might go up today or tomorrow, depending on what I'm feeling, I only promised this post! I also mentioned before that I will update the tags once I reveal which bts member is what/ what Y/N is but try to guess below! You might be right~

[thegoober010]

HI the mettaton headcanons were AMAZING I LOVED THEM!!

Ok I have a bit of a specific request SO IF YOU CANT DO IT I WONT BE UPSET!!

But could you do a oneshot where Mettaton finds reader’s drawings of him, and old love letters they never gave him, and he realizes they love him AND THEN READER FINDS HIM LOOKING THROUGH THEM AND SJFJFJFJDJFJJD sorry im SO NORMAL ABOUT METTATON

-🐾 (im claiming my place as paw print anon now)

OMG I AM SO SORRY I DID NOT SEE THIS EARLIER GRRRR I WAS BEING SILLY YESTERDAY BUT I AM BACK ON TRACK NOW 😈😈

AND ALSO HELL YEAH I CAN DO IT DEARIE OMG TYSM IM GLAD YA LIKED THE HEADCANONS <33!!

I SHALL GLADY DO THIS REQUEST PAW PRINT ANON!!!

also IMA DO IT LIKE THAT THEY'RE ALREADY TOGETHER JUST THAT LIKE reader got too shy to give the letters/drawings and such to him even after they got together/didn't see the point after YA KNOW ANYWAYS LETS GET INTO IT

as usual gn! reader <3!!

TW/CWS -> NONE JUST FLUFF <3!!!!

word count -> 1.8k/1,848

"Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?"

"Thanks so much for helping me out Mettaton!" You grinned as you picked up the huge overfilled box with your clothes. Mettaton turned his head over to you as you spoke, giving you a playful smirk, " Awe no need to thank me darling~! I'm always happy to help you out, especially since it's helping you move out into my home." Mettaton replied flipping his hair as he looked for any more boxes to put into the trunk of your car. Your face turns a light shade of pink due to his little pet names. You let out a soft chuckle as you open the door "Heh, still thank you, Uh I think there might be a few more boxes in the basement, could ya check for me?" You ask. Mettaton nods "Of course dearie~! Leave it up to me!" he says putting a hand on his hip before walking down to the basement to check for anymore boxes.

As you walk out to put the box in the trunk you slouch onto the side of the car, letting out a soft sigh. Jesus these boxes were heavy! Sometimes you forget how much stuff you buy.

As you were relaxing outside and taking a break from all the heavy lifting Mettaton was searching all throughout the basement. He was checking every crook and crevice of the basement so that he wouldn't accidentally leave anything behind. His metallic feet making a loud clanging noise as he walked, his eyes shifted over to a small box on the side of a dusty desk. He raised a brow as he quickly made his way to it. "Hehe, almost didn't notice this!" Mettaton giggled to himself as he gently grabbed the box and inspected it. As he moved it up to his eye level a small note escaped out of the open box. He raised a brow before bending down and picking it up. He inspected the note quickly, seeing how the envelope was open he let himself look inside. He took out the small note from the envelope, a small peek never hurt anybody, right? He skimmed over the note, his metallic body quickly heating up as he read every word from it.

'Mettaton, I wanted to give you this note because I've been wanting to tell you how much I truly love you, I love you more than anyone I have ever met, you're one of the first people, or well robots, to have ever made me feel this way. My heart beats a trillion times faster when I'm with you, I start to sweat and I dont know what to say, you just catch my attention every time you're near me or talk to me, you're one of the bets things to have ever happened to me and to have appeared in my life, no one has ever caught my attention like you. I hope you know what I mean, I hope you say the same to me, I hope you love me the same, because I love you so much more than you could ever imagine, I love you, so so much.' Mettaton read the note, over, and over, and over again. Each time he read it he could feel his body heat up and his heart (or well metallic heart- or monster heart? not even sure-) beat 10 times faster. A playful smirk quickly formed on his lips before he put the note back in, his eyes heart shaped as he placed the box down onto the desk. He opened up the box and saw even more letters. He grabbed a few of them and opened them, he read them as quickly as possible to not make it seem like he's taking to much time down in the basement.

'Ugh I don't even know why I feel like this, Mettaton I love you so much more than you could ever imagine, I know this note is a bit stupid, I know you probably would never like me back, but I just wish I could tell you already, I hope I don't just give up on this note like all the others but anyways I love you so much Mettaton, I genuinly do and I hope you feel the same. Ive never felt like this with anybody besides you. I feel like being with you my whole life, I feel like spending all my time with you, I want to spend all my time with you give you all my attention and love. I want to be with you for as long as I possibly can! I hope we can. I love you so much.' Mettaton could not stop reading these notes, god they were just so sweet! Mettaton let out a soft laugh, "Did they really think I wouldn't have liked them? Pff, this cutie really had no idea how much I loved them before huh." Mettaton thought out loud. He quickly opened up all the other notes, reading them. His body was currently overheating from joy and love. His pupils were heart shaped as he read through all of these little love notes that you had never given to him before. "I wonder why they didn't tell me about these notes now that we're together! Hehehe, I'll have to ask them later." He muttered, you both were daring after all, so he's a tads bit confused why you never gave him these notes after you confessed to him, he understands these were form way before you had confessed, but he wonders why you never gave them to him now that you two are together after all they're from the past and they honestly are super sweet.

He let out a soft chuckle before grabbing all the letters and organizing them. He closed them and peered inside the box once more before putting back the letters. He noticed a few more papers inside. Mettaton turned his head over to the stairs which led to the living room floor. He didn't hear any footsteps so he assumed it was safe to check. He grabbed the papers and gently placed them on the desk, he flipped through them. They were all little doodles of you and him together. They were mainly of you two going on dates and your little date ideas or about you thinking of him. He placed a hand on his mouth as he let out little giggles. His body was overheating as he looked through each one of them. As he looked through each of them he couldn't help but have a huge smile on his face. While he was giggling and smiling like an idiot at these notes and drawings he wasn't really paying much attention to his surroundings so he didn't hear you coming down to the basement, but once he heard your voice it was too late, you had caught him in the act of looking at your old and meant-to-be secret love-letters and doodles.

"Hey Mettaton I think that was all the boxes are ya done hereeee-..... uh- honey.... what are you doing...?" You ask as you had been making your way downstairs. You stopped midway on the stairs as you realized he had found that old box filled with your old love-letters and drawings. Mettaton turned his head over to you, a laugh escaped his lips and a playful smirk formed on his face as he saw your red, embarrassed face. "Hello darling! Nothing much just looking at these wonderful little drawings and letters you made to me in the past! Hopefully ya don't mind dear!" Mettaton replied putting the drawings and letters back gently. He closed the box and carried it, he walked over to you and looked down at your blushing, embarrassed face. He pinched your cheek as he laughed "No need to be so embarrassed! These are adorable I think I'll keep them!" Mettaton grinned, you tried to take away the box but due to his tall stature he was able to keep them out of your reach by holding them higher. "Mettaton!! Those are private! You weren't ment to find them! They're really old they're from before we got together and- and they're really bad!" You replied, your tone filled with shame as you crossed your arms, you hid your face with one of your hands trying to hide your embarrassment and just yourself in general as if that would work.

Mettaton smirked and shook his head. "But they're cute! I like them! So what if they're old and cheesy? They just show how much you really love me, no need to be so embarrassed!" Mettaton chuckled ruffling your hair. You grumbled in response causing Mettaton to take your hand of your face and pinch your cheek once more, admiring your cute features. "You look so adorable when you're all embarrassed like this! Just look at you darling so cute~!" he teased causing you to stumble all over your words. You let out a grumble.

"I'm taking these with us dearie! Now come on let's get going so we can move everything in early! We wouldn't want to be unpacking all your stuff late at night now would we? We don't want you missing out on your beauty rest hehe!" Mettaton giggled before using his arm to pick you up. Despite your many protests he loved picking you up, being able to keep you so close to him physically and being able to show everyone how close you two are made him very happy for some reason, it felt like he was able to show you off like this and he loved it! He giggled as he brought you two to the car, he placed you down so that he could open the back car door and place the small box on the seat. Once he did he closed the door and looked down at you. "Awe don't look at me like that dear~! It's not my fault your little love letters were so cute that I want to keep them." Mettaton remarked noticing your blushing face. "Ugh it's just a bit embarrassing is all..." You mumbled.

Mettaton placed his hand on his hip. He put his other hand on his chin as he seemed to think for a bit. "Hmmm, well, no need to be embarrassed! Those little notes just show how much you love me darling~!" he smirked. "Now come on, get in the car so we can get going, I want to get home and relax with you already!" Mettaton smiled as he bent down to give your face multiple little pecks on your cheeks, forehead and lips, leaving you all red in the face and feel embarrassed but also lovely. You gave him a peck on the cheek before nodding. "Fine, fine, let's get going then." You reply with a soft smile forming. He grins widely as he played with you hair. "Good~! Oh and- don't be scared to make me some new letters or drawings hehehe!! I'll appreciate every single one of them!" "Hm, fine, if that's what you want my love." You reply.

"Heh, I love you so much darling!"

[thefrogdalorian]

Hold Me Close

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count:  3.4k Rating: General Summary: In the aftermath of Grogu's departure to be with his own kind, your riduur is nowhere to be found, with little indication - other than a message disk - as to his whereabouts. You anxiously await his return. Yet the man who eventually comes back to you is a broken, shadow of the man you fell in love with. Content Warnings: Slight mention of blood/injuries but nothing too graphic. Author's Note: I made this post about hugging Din and then this just sort of took root in my brain. I don't know why he is always going through it in my fics, poor man cannot catch a break with me ha. Anyway hope you enjoyed! Was nice to just sit and write out a little brainworm, I loved just getting this one out of me and using some more Mando'a! Such a cool language and you can express so many beautiful sentiments. Hope you enjoyed!

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

The rain thumped against the windowpane with such veracity that were it not for the luxurious hotel you were staying in, you would be concerned that the glass was about to fail. The sun had not long set and a brilliant array of technicoloured signs were beginning to light the Uscru District. It was usually your favourite time of day, but this time, as evening set in, you were devastated by your desolation. The fading light marked another day of solitude. The third since he had left, meaning you had one more night.

Watching some of the planet’s three trillion inhabitants go about their lives on the bustling street far below had helped distract you from the queasy feeling that had first formed in your stomach several days ago when you had woken up to an empty bed. It was crushing to know that he should be here now, with you. Both of them should be.

Instead, there was no love, light and laughter filling the room thanks to the presence of your boys. Instead, you had been left in the impossibly opulent suite of an extravagant hotel – with the price tag to match – completely alone. You had baulked at the figure that the protocol droid had recited for a five night stay. But Din had not hesitated in placing the credits on the desk before the droid, despite your protestations.

You knew you should be grateful that he had at least arranged such comfortable lodgings for you, before he left. Yet the vastness of the suite only added to your feelings of emptiness. There was no laughter as your riduur played with your adiik. Only the gut wrenching sounds of the sobs and whimpers torn from your body, as the pain threatened to envelop every fibre of your being. 

Now that it had happened, you chastised yourself for failing to adequately prepare for the inevitability of the day. When your ad would return to his kind. After all, when you had first met the little one’s buir, he told you that the child was only with him temporarily. Didn’t stop either of you from getting attached, though.

You sighed and padded across the room, towards the nightstand where the message disk that had answered all of your questions had been placed after he left. You knew that watching it one more time would only serve to cause you more pain, but you found yourself drawn to pressing that little button. It was the only way to feel close to him. 

Immediately, a projection of the helmet you loved so much appeared, suspended in mid-air with a pale blue glow around it. You yearned to see his face again, the fact that he was wearing his helmet indicated to you that Din had pre recorded this. It had always been his plan to leave, it seemed. The thought that he had acted so calmly around you as you had prepared yourself to sleep that night chilled you. He was accustomed to a life of compartmentalising his emotions though, given his former profession as a bounty hunter. A profession that had brought the two of you together. 

But then his rich, gravelly voice filled the room and your ruminations were brought to an abrupt end as your body responded to the sound. 

“Cyare,

I need some time by myself to come to terms with recent events. I am sorry for leaving you and I know you will be worried, but I know you would have never agreed to let me go otherwise. I will be fine. There is nothing on Coruscant more dangerous than obstacles I have previously overcome.

Please, do not come looking for me. I want you to enjoy the amenities that the hotel provides.

I will be back before the credits I put down expire.

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

You sighed. There was no way you could possibly have enjoyed the amenities, like Din had suggested. You had heeded his request not to come looking for him, though. 

Instead of appreciating the luxuries of the expensive hotel, you had found yourself in your room, with nothing to do but gaze out of the window in between dissolving into sobs. You had replayed Din's message so many times over the last few days that you had feared the flimsy little disk might disintegrate in your palm. Each time looking for new meaning that wasn't there. Din had done his best to comfort you, but you felt anything but comforted. Speaking that affection to you in Mando’a, a phrase that you had been so blown away by when you had first been told of its meaning.

“I know your name forever,” he had said, in the typical Mandalorian declaration of love. But Din’s actions felt anything but loving. He had left, abandoned you to comprehend the void that had been opened by the sight of your beloved boy being carried away in the arms of the Jedi.

You had been stunned when, aboard Boba Fett’s ship, Din had requested passage to Coruscant when you had reunited with him after the mission aboard Gideon’s light cruiser. It was the last place you would have expected Din to want to travel to, given how busy the planet was. You spent most of the journey questioning why precisely Din had chosen such a bustling planet to escape to. You had expected that he would have wanted to find some peace of mind after the heartbreaking events on Gideon’s light cruiser somewhere far more peaceful than a planet with a population of three trillion people.

After everything that had happened, surely Din and you would have been far happier on a secluded planet with plenty of nature to ground yourselves in and come to terms with the devastating loss. But Din did not consult you. If he had, you would have suggested Naboo, with its beautiful countryside and warm climate – especially in the secluded Lake Country – it could have been the perfect place. 

Now, as you sat on the edge of the luxurious four-poster sleeper, your mind wandered to thoughts of how differently things could have turned out, had Din’s desire to isolate himself not taken over. You daydreamed about lush grass, gentle breeze and crystal clear water lapping at your ankles as you and Din strolled hand in hand through one of the lakes. Sighing deeply and allowing the fresh, sweet air to envelop you as you glanced over at Din. Appreciating the way his tousled brown hair was still slightly from an earlier swim in the lake and how the tips of some of his curls were slightly blond thanks to the sun. His brown eyes flecked with honey in the sunlight as he gazed at you with equal reverence. His bronzed, sunkissed skin making him look a world away from the pale shell of a man you had last observed in this very hotel room…

The sound of the door opening caused your eyes to fly open. You realised that you were lying back on the sleeper, the dryness of your mouth indicating that you had dropped off to sleep, your exhausted mind demanding the rest that you had neglected to give it.

Now, disorientated and panicking at the intrusion into the room where you had been wallowing for days, you sat bolt upright on the sleeper. 

“It’s me,” that familiar, deep voice declared. 

Din had returned.

You fumbled with the lamp on the nightstand, feeling your heart constrict at the sight that greeted you as the room was bathed in a warm glow. The first thing you noticed were the various dark splatters of unidentified origin darkening Din’s ordinarily-pristine helmet. You noticed that his cowl was slightly torn, exposing just a sliver of tan skin. It was unlike him, to be so careless in his appearance. As your eyes descended lower, you noticed the way his broad shoulders were hunched forward, a visible indication of his anguish. He usually stood tall and proud. Ner cerar. Your mountain. It was unsettling to see Din so utterly broken like this.

“Are you alright?” You frantically questioned as you pushed yourself off the sleeper and closed the distance between the two of you. You were still angry with him, but the time to discuss his actions could come later. For now, your priority was making sure that Din was okay.

Din’s lack of response, save for a shaky intake of breath that was amplified by his vocoder, threatened to break you entirely. You understood now that he did not want to talk about whatever he had been up to; wherever he had been and whoever he had encountered which had clearly inflicted such damage upon him. Din would only talk about it when he was ready to. It was pointless to bring it up and deal with the inevitable shutdown before then.

Despite the armour somewhat hindering your ability to wrap your arms around Din’s waist, you managed to secure your arms around him. You held him tightly, your arms resting in the gap above his belt, underneath the beskar which covered his chest and abdomen. Although the shock of the ice-cold steel against your cheek was initially uncomfortable, as you brought your head against Din’s chestplate, just next to his ka’rta beskar, you felt truly calm for the first time in days. 

Having Din back in your arms brought you the comfort that you had been missing for days. Feeling the warmth of the man beneath that cold, hard armour as you held him tightly in your arms, drawing his strong body to you, brought you immense relief. Din seemed to be deriving solace from your embrace, too. Your heart soared as you heard a shy little huff, barely audible from underneath his helmet as he adjusted to being held in your arms.

That sound gave you more confidence, you knew that Din was relishing the contact. You moved your hands up slightly and began to rub tentative circles into his back, beneath his back armour plate. Din sighed contentedly and you moved your hands to his sides, rubbing your hands up his waist and feeling the firm warmth of his skin below his dark brown flightsuit. You stood there for a few moments, your small, tender movements appeared to be going some way to ease Din’s anguish. You felt his body loosen as he practically melted into your embrace.

Eventually, Din’s large gloved hands began caressing your back in return, showing his appreciation for your soothing touches. You felt immensely relieved that you were able to help him, grateful that he had returned to you. You had never doubted for one second that Din would not keep his word and come back to you. He was a man who kept to his word; a decent man of integrity and of honour. Yet, there was that nagging fear that something would prevent the two of you from being reunited, events beyond your control. Coruscant was a planet with many seedy areas, including a sleazy underworld. It would be all too easy for Din to become embroiled in something, a misunderstanding or a disagreement perhaps, with devastating questions given the nefarious characters that lined the streets there…

“Thank you, cyare,” Din breathed, distracting you from that depressing line of thoughts that your mind had once again slipped into. 

“I missed you so much,” you whispered. “Oh, Din… I was so worried about you.” 

“I'm sorry for worrying you. I just needed…” Din swallowed thickly. “I needed to deal with things, wrap my head around the fact that he's gone.” 

“I know, I know,” you attempted to soothe Din. But the truth was, thinking about what had been taken from you on the light cruiser was too devastating to contemplate. Instead, you decided to focus your efforts on comforting the man before you. “Is there anything I can do, now?”

“Hold me close, cyare. Don’t ever let me go,” Din squeaked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You wrapped your arms around Din’s waist once again, squeezing him tightly. You were more than happy to comply with his request, drawing as much comfort and strength from the way your bodies fit together as Din did. But you felt the cold bite of beskar against your hands and recoiled slightly, wishing Din would just remove the awkward, cumbersome barrier to your embrace. 

“It might be easier if you took some of this off, you know,” you said, voice light. It was an observation rather than a complaint. You hoped that acknowledging the barrier between the two of you would go some way to lightening Din’s mood, but there was no response. The man who was usually so stoic and composed had crumbled before you, devastated at the loss of the little boy that he had cared for as a father. 

You would never forget the tears in Din’s eyes as he watched the terrible scene unfolding before him, of the Jedi walking off with the child who meant everything to him. Removing his helmet like that had been a violation of his Creed, something the two of you had not yet discussed. As far as you were concerned, your riduur was still every inch the Mandalorian that you had always known him to be. 

You wondered if knowledge that he was technically an apostate explained his sudden apprehension at removing his helmet in front of you. You were frustrated that Din was hiding behind his helmet, wanting more than anything to give him a reassuring kiss on the cheek and stroke your fingers through his soft dark brown curls. You did not want to not push or prod him to take a step that went beyond his comfort zone, though. The man had been through enough recently.  

You looked up questioningly as Din dropped his hands from where they had been resting on your back. Then, with trembling hands, Din reached up and removed his helmet. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you.

Din Djarin looked utterly broken, a shell of himself. Your handsome riduur was almost unrecognisable. It was clear that wherever he had been, he had not been taking care of himself. His eyes weren’t meant to be this sunken and haunted. Din’s cheeks were hollow, he looked gaunt; a shadow of the man you knew and loved. As you stared into the warm brown eyes you adored you noticed to your horror that they were utterly devoid of any vibrancy or joy. Instead, they were bloodshot and both their appearance and the deep, dark bags under his eyes, was an indication that he had not slept since he had marched out of your hotel in the dead of night almost four days ago. The fantasy of running your hands through Din’s soft curls was to be unrealised as his hair was matted. His facial hair was unkempt too.

His dishevelled appearance utterly shattered you. 

How could you ever begin to repair his fractured soul? You had a vague notion that if you brought your fingertips to his forehead and cheeks, perhaps you could smooth out the deep wrinkles that lined his handsome face, more pronounced than you remembered. 

“Oh, Din… you haven’t been taking care of yourself,” you observed, as much as yourself for him.

Din shook his head in response.

“Where did you go?”

“Tracing an old contact in the lower levels. Got into a few fights in Cantinas,” Din explained, slowly removing his gloves and showing you his swollen, bruised knuckles as proof. The blood that had oozed from the wounds now dried and blackened. 

You shook your head and took his large hand in yours, bringing the tender, misshapen knuckles to your lips and kissing them softly, one by one. If only a simple kiss could undo all of the hurt.

“I thought you left this life behind, Din.”

“I thought Grogu would never leave.”

You inhaled sharply. Hearing his name was difficult. Another punch to the stomach. 

“He’s with his kind, now, Din,” you murmured, voice cracking under the weight of the words. “We have to move on. Together.”

Din nodded, gaze finally meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you. I shouldn’t have done that. We’re a team, you’re my riduur…”

“I am,” you agreed, relieved he seemed to have remembered that. “Don’t shut me out, Din.”

“I won’t,” Din shook his head. 

“Good,” you breathed. There was still much you wanted to discuss, especially Din's tendency to isolate himself in times of stress. But the time for such onerous conversations would come. For now, it was clear that the two of you needed to lean on each other for support during such a terrible time.

“The contact gave me a name, by the way. For a planet,” Din explained. “Somewhere called Glavis Ringworld. It’s many parsecs from here, it’ll probably take us several months without a ship and I…”

“Din.” You raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks. “You look like you haven’t rested properly since the last time I saw you. How about you take a shower? It's a real one, not a sonic. The jets are hotter than Mustafar and powerful too, unlike anything I’ve felt for years. Take a shower. Then we need to sleep. I’ll hold you all night, ner cerar,” you promised, using the nickname you always used for Din: my mountain. He was your pillar of strength and even if he did not feel strong himself, it was important for him to know that you still revered him as much as ever. 

Din nodded slowly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it softly as he headed to the ‘fresher. You sighed in his wake. Still unsettled from the arduous events of the day, the emotional upheaval. But Din was back with you now. It seemed that he had already formed a plan for the next steps that the two of you would take. His way of coping with losing Grogu had been moving between the various shady establishments of Coruscant’s underworld, as though a hunter stalking his prey.

You supposed that side of Din would never truly leave him. You and Grogu had done your part in bringing the love that you knew had always been buried deep within him to the surface. Yet it was not a straightforward process. Progress would not be linear. But you had taken those sacred vows that declared you were one when together and when parted; that you would share all and you would raise warriors. The little warrior you had been raising together was gone now, back with his own kind, who would nurture and cherish his talents in a galaxy so fraught with danger.

Now it was up to you and Din to live up to the other vows. You hoped that he would truly share everything with you now, as you travelled to some far-flung planet at a distant corner of the galaxy. There was nowhere to hide now. The worst had happened. It was up to the two of you to get through it and adapt to a new life together. 

Din emerged from the ‘fresher, the spark somewhat restored in his eyes. You noticed that his hair no longer matted; it was damp and slightly tousled, as it had been in your Nabooian fantasies. You wondered if it could be a possible pit stop on your journey to the planet Din had mentioned.

But all thoughts of Glavis Ringworld were far from your mind as you held the surprisingly narrow waist of your riduur tightly. It was as though you feared he would slip away from you again. If Din found the strength in your grip painful, he did not vocalise those thoughts.

“Jate ca, cyare,” Din sighed, wishing you good night in the beautiful ancient language of the Mandalorian people.

“Jate ca,” you breathed. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, ner atin cerar.”

Din’s recent actions in shutting you out were stubborn, so you did not feel too bad at affixing that description to the affectionate nickname you had for him. You kissed his cheek softly, grateful that he had trimmed his facial hair. You relaxed when you noticed his shallow, even breaths which indicated that he was finally getting the rest he so desperately needed.

Din had given you a terrible fright with his departure, but the broken state he had returned to you in and the comfort he had drawn from you had made you feel more secure than ever in his love for you. Now, as the two remaining members of Clan Mudhorn, you would begin your travels across the galaxy to your ultimate destination. 

Together, sharing all as you went. 

Mando'a phrases:

riduur - spouse

adiik - young child

buir - father

Cyare - beloved

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - I know you eternally (I love you)

ka’rta beskar - iron heart

Ner cerar - my mountain

Jate ca - goodnight

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, ner atin cerar - I love you, my stubborn mountain

[god-complex-12]

Rasāsvāda

— Paring; Khonshu x male reader. Fandom; Moon Knight/Marvel

Rasāsvāda: (n.) the taste of bliss in the absence of all thoughts

Quote; "Your heart is aching, Y/N. Your mind is trying desperately to hold you together, like clay being pinched at the seams. You're trying to maintain control, but something in you is not quite stable."

Description; Night conversation with Khonshu. Disclaimer; Sad. Mentions of a higher power. Reader is Moon Knight. High up on a building. Absent-mindedness. Mentions of degradation and judgment for an opinion? Khonshu’s depicted to be a dick. Ignorance to one’s own feelings. Mental health issues (not specified). Unstability. Loneliness.

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

A/N: I don’t know. Everything had been fucking everywhere for me, so have this and do what you want with it. That's all I can muster up. 

Trillions of small little light sources scattered in the darkness of the sky appeared, occasionally disappearing behind the light gray clouds and reappearing when they pass. Small to what all see, but huge when closer. Perspective tricking the less developed minds into thinking there's tiny night lights gifted by a higher power or simply to make the night sky look pretty. The earth’s atmosphere makes the bright celestial body’s twinkle. From where the white armored vigilante sat, he was incapable of hearing the ever subtle sound those huge stars emitted despite the sound traveling through the gas in the huge vacuum of the universe. 

The cold night wind made the knight’s cloak gently rustle. One of his legs was dangling off the side of the building ledge and the other flat on the edge he was sitting on, bent to his chest as his head was completely pointed upward. His mind blank, his mask off, his body relaxed. 

The god looked down at his avatar. His hollow eyes staring at the back of Y/N. He knew Y/N was unaware of his presence, but that’s not what concerned Khonshu. He tapped his staff against the rooftop to make himself known before speaking. The loud ‘thud’ of the staff coming in contact with the concrete roof bounced around the area. “Y/N. What are you doing?” 

Y/N didn’t flinch or move. He had gotten so used to Khonshu’s frequent appearing and disappearing that he no longer got visibly frightened by being watched. “Looking.” His tone was quiet, calm, and vague. He didn’t go on into detail, instead leaving it short and sweet for Khonshu to interrupt for himself, so that Khonshu was given the chance to make what he wanted of the answer.

Khonshu didn’t like that. He knew why Y/N was doing it. Y/N spoke vaguely because he knew if the answer wasn’t of the deity’s liking, it would only lead to degradation and judgment, so he gave an open book answer. Khonshu looked at the Moon Knight for a few seconds before calmly speaking. “Looking for what, might I ask?”

Y/N shook his head, not looking at Khonshu. “Not looking for something. Just looking.” He wasn’t searching for anything. It’s like looking at a painting in a museum, some people look through the painting for inspiration, techniche, or flaws; others just admire the work, not actively searching for something in specific. 

Khonshu tilted his head to the side slightly like how a dog does when you say it’s favorite word in a baby voice. This caught his interest. All the many years he’s walked this Earth, human’s like this always caught him off guard. "And what is it you hope to see by 'just looking’? Is there any particular reason why you wanted to be here.. on this roof?" Khonshu clearly didn’t get the message in the last response.

Y/N sighs. Not an upset or disappointed sigh. Just a simple deep breath. “Peace.” Another vague, open ended question for Khonshu to mold and shape to his liking. He gave an answer that would fit both the stand points of the searching artist and the admiring artist. 

"Hmm. And has that peace you seek been found?" Khonshu's gaze remained locked on Y/N’s back. He didn't seem to be bothered by anything, either. A few moments passed after the question. A comfortable silence filling the air between them. 

“Momentarily.”

Khonshu nodded slightly, remaining silent. If this was the kind of answer he was going to get, perhaps he should try a different approach. He sighed before speaking again. "What troubles you, Y/N? I know you're hiding something." Khonshu's voice was low and quiet, but there was something about it that gave it a slight edge, an underlying sharpness.

"I am?" Y/N slowly turned his head to Khonshu. This was the first time he had looked at Khonshu this entire conversation. His face is an unreadable expression even for Khonshu. "Since you know I'm hiding something. What do you think I'm hiding?” Y/N seems more curious by the accusation than defensive. 

Khonshu's gaze remained still and cold, but there was something there — a sliver of compassion. He knew what he was asking Y/N. "Your heart is aching, Y/N. Your mind is trying desperately to hold you together, like clay being pinched at the seams. You're trying to maintain control, but something in you is not quite stable."

Y/N slowly nodded and hummed in acknowledgement. He was silent for a moment as he went back to looking at the sky. It was true, he couldn’t argue even if he wanted to. "I'd tell you you're wrong, but if you were... I wouldn't be your avatar."

Khonshu chuckled lightly, finding the small jab quite funny. "Very astute of you." He sounded appreciative. "But you still haven't answered my question. You hide something from me, from yourself. What is it?"

"I must be very good at hiding because I don't know." He looked back at the night sky. He constantly had this nagging, never ending sense of dread. That something would go wrong, or maybe that something was already wrong. He was paranoid of everything around him and it was tearing his mind apart. Piece by piece. He didn’t know what caused it though. He never did. That’s what drove him into the dark, never ending pit of madness. 

Khonshu took a moment to respond. His voice was very carefully measured, calm. He knew that Y/N was going through something, even if Y/N was too stubborn to admit it or if the man truly didn’t know. "I think you might, Y/N. I've had the chance to observe you at close range for a little while. I know there's a weight on your shoulders. I know it's there in the way you stand so rigid, because you're so desperately trying to not buckle under that weight."

“Oh, how poetic of you. Does that come from being so divine?” There was sarcasm carefully laced Y/N’s tone. He’s not stupid enough to insult a god who saved his life and had been protecting him, but he can’t help but show some of his annoyance with light “playful” sarcasm. 

“You are a lonely person.” Khonshu states this as fact.

“I am, aren’t I?”

[harveybwabbit92]

[(Reader doesn’t know her neighbor Hobie is Spiderpunk.)

R/n chilling in her livingroom watching reruns of Are you being served? when she hear at knock at her window...She looks and sees Spiderpunk sitting outside, she opens it.]

R/n: Uh..Hello?

Spiderpunk: Hey, Can I use yer toilet real quick?

R/n:...

Spiderpunk, strained: Ya gotta say yes! The dam’s about to bloody burst!

R/n, letting him inside: Ok. *points down her hall* It’s down that way first door on the right.

Spiderpunk: Thanks bruv!

[As Hobie is walking down the hallway he can’t help but pause when he notices the very alarming amount of fire safety and exit signs R/n has scattered around her flat; he counted at least 50 of ‘em! After Hobie was done with his business, he decides ask her about it before he leaves.]

Spiderpunk: Why do you have like a trillion Exit signs hanging out on yer walls?

[R/n’s body felt hot with nerves as she shyly averted her eyes, and tried to come up with an explanation.]

R/n: Oh...Yeah, Those....Um. It started between me and my friends one night at the pubs, they dared me to snatch the fire sign without being noticed. And I did it.... and from there things kinda got outta control...

Spiderpunk: ….Really?

R/n: It’s essentially become my “party trick” and it’s not just exit signs either, I got street signs, license plates, stop signs; Emergency lights from police cars... 

Spiderpunk:...

R/n:....Yer um, not gonna report me for this, are you?

Spiderpunk: Hell no, that’s frakin’ hilarious! Keep it up bruv! *Swings out the window.*

[Later R/n ran into Hobie while taking out the trash, he mentioned Spiderman told him about her little collection, and was curious if she was willing to part with any of it? He’s been looking for some décor for his flat.]

[ghostinthegallery]

As a transformers fan I love robots who have divorce drama stretching millions of years but also have a body count in the trillions. Thus it has taken little convincing but I think I shall investigate these undead robots.

In the event of my death I'm Telling. This is your fault. How do I start wading into this mess bc my only encounter with Warhammer was when a very drunk frat guy tried to explain the horus heresy at a party.

Well you are in for a treat then! Robots with marriage/divorce drama, severe mental health issues, and body counts best measured on a planetary scale are our specialty in Chez Necron.

If you want a setting overview before you dive in, Bricky's two part series going over all the factions is quite solid. Long, but hey this has been around since the 80s. (no drunken Horus Heresy rambles*)

First, watch this clip of Trazyn the Infinite, as an amuse bouche before your meal.

As for books, there are two main places I'd start for necrons:

The Infinite and the Divine- the classic starting point for necrons (and 40k in general). Trazyn the Infinite, lord of the Prismatic Galleries, battles against Orikan the Diviner, master chronomancer and prophet. Clash of godlike beings over...what amounts to a magic Rubik's Cube. It's so petty. This fight spans epochs, multiple wars, and one legal case. There's no heterosexual explanation for their dynamic. Also this book has dinosaurs. Some of whom carry shuriken canons.

Now, this book has a ton of 40k stuff. Most major factions make an appearance so there's a very good chance there will be words/things that a new person is unfamiliar with. If that doesn't bother you, awesome! Proceed. Ask me things, I'll explain that an aeldar is just a space elf or whatever. Or watch a lore vid beforehand. However if that is a turn off I'd recommend starting with...

Severed- Novella, so shorter which is nice. Do you like angst? The horrors of immortality? Lord/knight love story? One very silly guy? Then meet Zahndrekh and his loyal bodyguard Obyron as they set out to conquer a planet where the necrons are...wrong. Complicating factors include Obyron's crippling depression, Zahndrekh's asshole ex, and the fact Zahndrekh is insane and believes them all to still be the creatures of flesh and blood they were before a bunch of star gods ate their souls and turned them into robots. Prepare to cry.

After those, I cannot recommend the Twice Dead King duology highly enough. Oltyx, an exiled prince attempts to save his dynasty from destruction while battling his own creeping madness. He's got an adorable crush on his hot best friend. The voices in his head were put there on purpose so its fine. Well most of them were. Everything is fine. I didn't cry multiple times reading these...

Then refer to my reading guide for the good short stories and boom! The wonderful world of gay undead space robots is open before you.

I accept full responsibilities for my actions. If you die I promise to say mostly nice things at your funeral.

*mini rant, but I honestly think the Horus Heresy is one of the worst ways to introduce someone to the 40k world. It's a series with like 70 books! Many of them are bad! You need a flowchart to keep track of the timeline! I know there's some good books and characters, power to all who love the HH, but it is not newbie friendly! Also it only has humans which robs you of some of the best parts of the setting (like...y'know. Necrons). Ease people in, then they can make an informed decision about tackling the mountain of buff space men with daddy issues shooting each other.

[this-aint-massachusetts]

I know this has probably been said before but I’m sick of the infantilization of Futturman and how people just write him as “pathetic little baby boy who has never even seen a woman and can’t take care of himself 🥺” like stop it. Sure at the beginning of the series he probably wasn’t pulling like he was in later seasons but he’s a 23 year old man, not three. It’s like the whole bullshit with Papyrus and how people treated him like a toddler who’s never heard a swear word and doesn’t know what sex is just because he’s written as more of an “innocent” character. Especially with how I’ve seen most people headcanoning Futturman as autistic which sucks even more because most autistic characters and people are infantilized. Look I’m not bashing on you if you write him like this I genuinely don’t care but like…. That’s a grown ass man with a kill count and body count that’s probably in at least the trillions. Be real here.

[0yuri-chan0]

|| 100 - 1 Challenge ||

Sorry i haven't been active I had family problems here and there but i hope you guys enjoy!

Paring - Scaramouche x Top! Gn Reader

Warnings - Jerking off, Tied up, Blow job

Genre - Nsfw

"Tch It would take 2 millio- Hell not even a 2 million! 2 trillions years to make me agree to something as lewd and disgraceful as that." His finger swiftly flicked your forehead trying to make a point. As you open your mouth to speak he spoke first with his index finger to your lips "Sometimes you make me think that i neglect you, do you really thin-" you cut him off before he give you another lecture "And here i am still pondering why you act like you don't want to fulfill my request." He sighed leading closer towards your body savoring your sweet smell. "You better make this count [Y/n]" "Of course my love~, would I ever forsake you?"

--

--

"Of course I can count to 100 idiot, How old do you think I am 4!?" He would have lightly hit you on the head but seeing how his hands are tie beautifully behind his back with a pretty red bow, each of his legs tied gratifyingly to each of the legs on the chair he was siting fully on display for you "You know the rules, Scara?" He tugs on his restraints harshly "Yes, yes i know!.." Scaramouche rolls his eyes for the 5th time now. Even though his words are laced with sarcasm his cherry tip cock is standing at full attention, you wrap your hands around his base moving slowly as Scara starts counting, "100, 99... 98, 97...." purposefully picking up speed as he starts counting down "This is stupid, really"

His snarky tone made you slap his cock harshly pulling a loud groan from your helpless boyfriend. "Instead of throwing oh so very harsh comments start counting down" His head falling backwards, while biting his cheek trying to stifle his whimpers. Continuing to jerk your boyfriend off, squelching noises start to form in the background as Scara starts counting where he left off "Tsk..74, 73, 72 Mh- Ah!~" His body jerked up when you kissed his tip lightly, moving you attention to his thighs your right hand never leaving his cock. Red and purple marks appear over his light pale skin as you suck on them, reminding him who he belonged to. "S-Shit! Mh-m!" Letting out a chocked moan.

Scaramouche thrusting upwards trying to match your speed but it wasn't enough. Noticing that he stopped counting you slowed your pace on his cock only going halfway up his cock. "H-Ha why d-did you fucking slow down?" That shit-eating grin appeared on your face "Why did you stop counting, my love?~" Stopping all movement only toying with his cherry red tip. "F-Fuck, w-what M-Mhm number Sh-IT!"

You chuckle making Scara shiver "Well weren't you supposed to keep track, no?" His hands grip the ribbon that bonded them together, "Shut Ngh!~ f-fuck up and tell H-Ha! the number" Resting your left hand on this thigh while the other flicks his cock hard, leaving Scara mouth agape "42 my love, the number is 42" you purred "43, 44..." removing your hand and stroking his cock faster making him sputter out in bliss "You're supposed to be counting down, Now start back from 50."

"Your a M-Mhm!.. f-fucking H-Ha~.. m-menace" Being a good boy he did as you told him, More pre cum leaking down his shaft and starts dripping on his balls indicating that hes reaching his climax. A satisfied hum left your lips as Scara's legs start shaking "H-Hold on Mh- slooe AH!~" stuffing his dick into your warm and wet mouth pulling a loud moan from him. "shit shit Mhm sh-" rolling your tongue around his tip making Scaramouche a sputtering mess not able to understand what hes babbling on about. Jerking his hips trying to mouth fuck you with that little movement he can make. His hot seed finally shoved down your throat while you swallowed it.

"Good job you don't mind if we go another round, No?"

I hope you enjoyed this little fanfic ill be working on more in the near future! Have a nice rest of your day. - Love Yuri <3

[rexxdjarin]

Captain's Log: Chapter 13

Renewal

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life.

[previous] [next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3 Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 13.7k im sorry but also its worth it 😏 Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: With most of the galaxy against them and the odds not on their side, Rex and his crew must decide how far they will go for family. Batchmates resurface and assign a new mission. Readers first symptoms begin and she finds herself in desperate need of relief. Chapter Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT, P in V sex, fingering, mirror sex, dirty talk, squirting if ya squint ;), Mature Themes, Language, Political References, References to Canon Plot, References to Canon Deaths, Angst, Anguish.

Darkness. It could describe so much of my life right now besides just the atmosphere around our bunk room. Pitch black, not even a single ounce of light streaming in. Every part of the ship that was not life support or the hyperdrive navigation was powered down to conserve fuel, so even the cabin lights and switches weren’t dotting the walls like landing platform markers. After the meeting we had, life kinda felt like the ship–flying blind without a destination or a purpose to guide us forward. 

I couldn’t say I’d ever felt this much doubt, even during the worst of the battles I fought in during the war.

What was it all for?

Freedom? For who? I’d never really felt true freedom–I don’t think any of us did save for maybe Cut. But even he had to hide from the Republic in order to live the life he wanted.

Trillions of credits were spent on the lives of every single brother I knew, but now suddenly repayment for our service was too high a cost.

Fighting in this war was the right thing to do, no question. The things the 501st and I achieved were among the greatest honors of my life. But now, after everything, the galaxy would always see me as more than a droid but less than a person. 

What’s the point of fighting anymore?

I tossed and turned in bed, throwing my forearm over my face and groaning uncomfortably. She didn’t even stir beside me, her exhaustion a by-product of her first pregnancy symptom finally showing. Nausea and intense vertigo had kept her up and made her woozy for nearly the entire rest of the night. At this point, it was best to just let her sleep even though I couldn’t.

I rolled over, slowly easing myself out of her arms wrapped around my torso, and sat up on the edge of the bunk. I sighed, resting my forehead in my hands and trying to take deep breaths. I had to talk to my brothers about this. The decision from the Alliance. The mission for Cham. Everything.

We had gotten in too late to discuss anything, and her not feeling well meant we headed straight to bed after I’d told Wolffe to get us to Ryloth. Now was as good a time as ever to talk to them, without worrying her or stressing her out any more than necessary. Besides, she’d done enough fighting for us already.

I hoisted myself up, grabbed my body glove, and slipped it on. The uniform felt oddly comforting and reminiscent of a time when things still made sense to me. Our bunk door slid open and I tiptoed away quietly, heading up the rungs of the ladder to the cockpit where I knew Wolffe and Gregor would be completely awake just like I was.

I tapped on the cockpit door and entered, the two of them perking up immediately, probably eager to hear the news. However, the sight of me exhausted and almost defeated snuffed out any hint of their excitement. I plopped down in the passenger seat behind Gregor, avoiding their eyes.

Wolffe stood up from his spot in the pilot’s chair and scowled, “What happened, Rex?”

“Yeah, everything alright? You don’t look so good.” Gregor scooted forward, resting his hand on my forehead. 

“The Alliance doesn’t want to help us. They think it's too much for them to tackle,” I sighed, watching the hope in Gregor’s face falter and the rage in Wolffe’s grow. “I don’t even want to tell you some of the things that were said.” I massaged my temples with the pads of my fingers as I tried to remove their words of disgust from my memory.

“Even with her and Bail speaking up for us?” Gregor inquired, sitting back and contemplating how things could’ve fallen off this quickly.

I thought about the fire in my beloved’s eyes as she had lambasted them with scolding words of moral righteousness, battling their every misguided fear with the soaring light of truth. She reminded me not of the senator she served under, but of my general–absolutely fearless in the face of certain death and loss. She stood unyielding where no one else dared. She spoke for me when others wouldn’t listen. She fought, kicked, and hit them where it hurt, just like he always did for me. “She gave it a hell of a fight. Wish you could’ve seen her up there. She was… incredible, but it didn’t matter.”

“So what? We don’t fucking need them. We’ll take care of our own, like we always have,” Wolffe spat, his disappointment usually presented as anger to hide his hurt. He had always been that way.

I glanced between my brothers, their own eyes now teaming with justified rage, and felt nothing but fear for both of them. They didn’t have to hear what even the galaxy’s best people thought of us, and I’d do everything in my power to make sure they wouldn’t for as long as I could. Because if good people couldn’t bring themselves to care, then what did we have left? 

Maybe the time was approaching when it didn’t make sense to fight anymore. Maybe I was the only one who saw it. I felt guilty even thinking about it. It went against every principle I ever knew to give up, but that had become a possibility for the first time in my life.

“And where has that ever gotten us, Wolffe? Hurt, kidnapped, missing, killed… what’s the point? Of all of this? Aren’t you tired of only being what they used us for?” I asked quietly, trying desperately to hold back the anxious tears that had been brimming in my eyes since the start of that meeting.

Wolffe stopped, his anger breaking immediately, and he crouched down to my eye level. “Yeah, Rex. Always. Every day. Since the day I was put in this armor. Since the day they crushed my entire battalion and stuck me back out there the very next day. But you know what keeps me going? What gets me back out there every time? My brothers. My flesh and blood. If there’s still a chance we can help them, I want to try. The two of you helped me remember that.”

From the way his jaw twitched, I could tell he was still thinking about Fox, and maybe Cody as well.

“You risked your life to take me in, Rex. I wouldn’t be here without you,” Gregor said, offering up his canteen of water and patting my shoulder. “We may not be ready to take on the Empire, and I understand being tired of fighting, but I’m not going to give up on my brothers. We can still fight to try and save them, even if we have to do it alone.” 

I sighed, closing my eyes and pressing the heels of my palms onto them. “I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just… hard not to let it get to you. Especially now after what I’ve heard. The whole galaxy thinks we were in on it. On all of it. It was… tough to just stand there and take.”

Wolffe grunted in annoyance, his disdain for politicians growing by the day. “And Bail? What did he say?”

“He was one of only three senators who voted to help us, along with Saw Gerrera and Cham Syndulla. Syndulla got us our next mission,” I mentioned, pointing to the navicomputer. It was blinking with the updated timing for our approach to Ryloth.

“Helping people who care is all we can do now. Let us make a difference where we can. We’ll find our own way,” Gregor reassured, reaching for the canteen in my hand and taking a few swigs of water for himself.

Wolffe resumed his seat, doing a quick systems check on the ship to keep his hands busy. “Ryloth, huh? Howzer was stationed there last I can recall. He picked up where Keeli left off.” 

“Yeah. Guess my whole batch had to visit this planet once,” I remarked, fondly remembering my brother and eldest batchmate, Keeli, who died long before the galaxy changed. Howzer and I were probably the only two left of our batch now. “I lost contact with him a long time ago. What do you know about the situation there?”

“Well, I know he and his men were still stationed there. Though for the Empire, not the Republic. Things were just starting to get testy when I… when I got away,” Wolffe explained, scratching the growing beard on his jaw as he thought.

“Howzer and his boys must’ve rebelled and held the Empire off for a little while. Cham needs us to eliminate the rest of the special forces. He wants to hit them while they’re still down. We’ve got a small window in the next few rotations,” I explained, relaying the information Cham had given us when he approached us on Fest.

“And what’s in it for us?” Gregor inquired, sitting back in the co-pilot's chair and sighing. He looked tired–there were dark circles under his eyes and the familiar, cheerful light in them was noticeably absent. I wonder if he ever sleeps much anymore.

“Cham promised us supplies and weapons. Anything we need to start preparing for an uprising,” I replied, trying to mentally count the munitions we had in the hold downstairs. There wasn’t much that the pirates who owned this scrap heap left behind for us and our DC-17s weren’t going to cut it for the entire company’s worth of clones we planned on freeing.

“So, he’s committing to our freedom, huh?” Wolffe thought aloud, snorting to himself. “Guess he does live up to his name. Howzer must’ve done quite a bit to earn his trust. Cham was one of the Republic’s biggest headaches at times.”

“Howzer saved the Syndulla’s lives. He and his men are with them leading the fight against Imperial occupation now. Guess the Bad Batch helped him see reason. Cham’s fought his way back to the planet, and he wants us to help him eliminate the remnants of the Empire’s forces before they breach the city walls again.”

Gregor laughed, “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I am itching for a fight against those Imperial dogs.” He whipped the chair around and took over the controls just as the nav signaled our drop out of hyperspace. “Where we off to, Cap?”

“Head toward these coordinates. Cham’s palace is on the outskirts of the capital, Lessu. We’re supposed to meet him there.” I reached up to the console and tapped the coordinates in, giving my brothers a flight path.

“She agreed to this?” Wolffe asked gruffly, pointing casually at where she slept downstairs.

“Before he even had the chance to ask,” she interrupted, climbing up into the cockpit. I rose and pressed a kiss into her hair as she came to stand beside me. The same fire she had during her speech was still burning in her dark eyes. 

Wolffe smirked and shook his head. “She’s dangerous, Rex’ika. Be careful, darling, I might have to steal you from him.”

“Over my dead body, you grump,” she laughed, punching him in the bicep and resting her head on my shoulder. “We better get him some female attention soon. He’s not used to not being fawned over.”

Wolffe began to groan in protest, but the incoming holomessage from Cham interrupted him.

“Captain, I am glad you managed to persuade your men to join our cause. I must say your brothers here were relieved to hear of your collective survival,” Cham said, his serious stare hardened and cold enough to intimidate even through a hologram.

“Hey, we’re happy to be here, too,” I joked, though Cham didn’t crack. He apparently wasn’t known for his humor. “This here is Gregor, ex-commando. And this is Wolffe, formerly of the 104th attack battalion.”

He bowed his head graciously and turned to my cyar’ika. “And how are you? My men have heard your speech. They are interested in meeting you, to thank you for speaking up for them. It has meant a great deal. Many have joined my cause because of you.”

She smiled, the blaze of justice igniting in her eyes. “Doing well, General. Thank you. Tell your men we’re on our way.”

Syndulla gestured to a few people out of frame and nodded in understanding. “Our landing bay is an open-mouthed cave entrance on the left side of the palace. You will not be followed there. We’ll see you soon.” Wolffe guided the ship down through the tall plateaus and rocky terrain of this part of the planet just as the hologram disappeared.

“So speaking of female company…” Gregor smirked, “Ryloth is known for its performative, grand welcomes. Think you could put in a good word for me, gorgeous?” he turned over his shoulder to ask her.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s been that long for you, hmm?” I laughed at her obvious annoyance and kissed her forehead as her arms wrapped around me.

“Far too long,” Gregor replied, “and never with a Twi’lek.” He winked, glaring at the both of us. “Besides… I think you two owe me.”

Wolffe laughed for the first time in weeks, “Yeah, I second that.”

I could practically feel her blushing. “I’ll see what I can do,” she hummed softly. The normalcy of this request reminded me of all the times she wing-manned the Torrent boys back home at 79s. That was nothing more than fond memories now.

The ship flew through the shade cast by clouds of past explosions covering the surface, and I gulped at the craters left on the planet's surface by battles weeks old. It must’ve been a rough evac if this much debris had been left behind.

I could feel her wincing beside me and I seated us both down gently into the passenger's seat behind Gregor. She probably hadn’t seen battlefields to the extent we had throughout the war. It was hard to look at even for guys like us who had seen hundreds of worlds like this. From the looks of it, it was only getting worse under the Empire.

My soldier’s resolve was strengthening in my soul all over again. Seeing worlds like this, absolutely destroyed by evil, and knowing that people needed help was a reminder that I couldn’t give up. My other reminder rested under my palm as I rubbed slow strokes on her warm lower belly. Even if I wanted to, even if things were getting worse, even if the galaxy gave up on all of us clones, I didn’t have it in me to quit, because our ad’ika deserved to grow up in a safe galaxy.

She looked up at me, her hand coming to rest over mine, nodding once like she could read my thoughts. That was why she agreed to the mission. She knew I needed to be reminded of how much I could help people. No matter what the Alliance said, I was more than a human weapon. We all were. We were finally free to choose to help the people who needed it. And damn it, that’s what we’re going to do.

The Syndulla’s landing bay looked miraculously untouched for a planet occupied by the Empire. Located on the far side of the palace, the cave entrance was hidden by the large craggy rock face of the mountain range–too well disguised for the class of Imperial officers who were unfamiliar with the planet to recognize.

As Wolffe prepared the ship for landing, we noted the massive number of likely stolen ships that took up most of the space in the hangar. They all seemed to be in various states of disrepair, but nothing a few well-trained clones like ourselves couldn’t fix.

“Wonder why they don’t just use these to fight the Empire off,” she said aloud, counting the number of ships from her place on my lap.

“They don’t have the men, I’d suspect,” Gregor responded as he began shutting the ship’s engines down. “None of these are single-man fighters. Even if Howzer managed to recruit a small group of his old battalion members, that’s still not enough to go head-to-head with Imperial fighter squadrons.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t stand a chance unless they had about six troopers manning some of these guns,” Wolffe explained, settling the ship into the hangar and stretching as he stood up. “Though the Wolfpack probably could’ve done it with less.”

I snorted, my brother’s overconfidence clouding his judgment. “I think all those craters in the surface say otherwise. They were probably lucky to escape with their lives,” I remarked, remembering the numerous times we had caused similar damage in pursuit of victory against the Separatists. The similarities made me more uncomfortable the longer I thought about it.

She narrowed her eyes, nibbling on her bottom lip as the wheels spun in her head. “It’s a good thing Twi’leks largely live underground here. That’s a huge advantage. The Empire would have to rely solely on ground assaults to make any headway,” she declared, fishing through her bag on the floor for her datapad to make notes for future briefings.

Wolffe and Gregor whipped around, their brows raised in surprise at her suggestion. They exchanged glances, and she huffed softly. She folded her arms in annoyance, her shirt pulling and exposing the tiny bulge of her belly just beginning to show signs of the life within. She was cute when she was mad, and nothing irked her more than being underestimated. “What? I pay attention in strategy meetings. I know things.” 

“Alright, Commander,” Wolffe teased, gathering his pack and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’ll talk to Syndulla and see what we’re working with. You might be onto something.” Instead of countering him with another playful insult, she smiled and nodded, probably equally surprised at his acceptance of her idea.

Gregor clapped his hands together and stepped out from behind his seat, “Well, let’s go! I’m in the mood to see what kind of welcome is in store for us. Think they’ve got any nuna here?”

“I think you’ll be lucky if you get more than a few ration sticks, Gregor,” I remarked, slinging my arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple as we followed them out of the cockpit. “You feeling better, mesh’la?”

She leaned into my side more than normal and gripped at the fabric of my blacks with need. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to pull me aside for something else. “I’m ok, baby. Still a little woozy. I just need some water and, honestly, anything warm to eat. Why’d you get up before me?” she whispered, pawing at my chest and blinking up at me. I could never hide a thing from that face.

“I couldn’t sleep. That business with the Alliance…” She hummed in regret as I trailed off, looking away from me as if it was her fault they said all those things. “Just needed a talk with the boys. The kind of thing only they’d understand.”

She stopped, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and running her palm along her bump. “I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I shouldn’t have made you come with me. That was too much.” I didn’t have to see her face to know she was upset by it, too. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks before I saw.

Stepping in front of her, I grabbed both her hands and brought them to rest between us before tipping her chin up. “Hey… hey… none of that now. It’s alright. I know you don’t think like they do. That’s what matters.” The hurt in her eyes perfectly reflected how I felt inside–like she could feel the pain for me. 

She balled her hands into fists then let them relax to curl her fingers into my sides, and I hugged her tight as she held onto me. “They’re wrong. You all deserved better than this. And I won’t stop reminding them of that. There’s always more I can do.”

I shook my head, shushing her quietly as I twirled a few strands of her hair around my finger. “You’re doing just fine, mesh’la. It means more to us than it ever will to anyone else. You heard what Cham said, you inspired other troopers to fight back. We may not have been able to reach the Alliance, but we are getting through to the ones who matter. Maybe now is the time we clones fight for ourselves.” I rested my chin on the top of her head, more to convince myself than her.

She pulled away, spreading her fingers on my chest and looking up at me fondly. “You know… if you keep giving speeches like that, you’re not going to need me to inspire them.” She leaned in and kissed me softly, one hand sliding up to rest on my flushed cheek. Her tongue slipped along my bottom lip and brushed delicately against mine. Though she tried to keep it brief, I could tell she wanted more as she broke away.

“If you’re looking for a reason why you survived when so many of your brothers did not… I think you’ve found it. You’re their leader. They’ll follow you anywhere. I know I will, too.” She gasped suddenly and her hands flew to her belly. “And someone else agrees,” she beamed, my hands reaching down to join hers to feel the tiny flutters of his kicks.

I knelt down in front of her, glancing up at her quickly for permission before pulling the bottom of her shirt up to speak directly to him. “Hey little bug, you think I can do it too, huh?”

I tried to imagine what it must be like to be so small but to experience life alongside both of your parents as you grow; to be along for the ride with them instead of growing alone and in silence in a sterile tube like my brothers and I had. While we would never know a bond like that, we had each other. Just like I would do anything for her and our little one, someone had to feel the same about my brothers and the birth of a new life they could have if we all just fought for it.

The little kicks under my palm solidified it. I would be the one who cared enough to free them. No matter the odds, no matter what it took. “Thanks for believing in your dad, Ad’ika. We got our family to save and we won’t let them down.” I smiled up at her, the real smile I only reserved for her, and rose again. “C’mon. We’ve gotta go, my love.”

After I’d changed into some civvies, we followed where Gregor and Wolffe had made their way down to the hold, her fingers laced reassuringly in mine. Syndulla would be out to greet us any second and hopefully reunite us with more of our renegade brothers. 

I could only imagine what Howzer would say about meeting my pregnant girlfriend for the first time in the middle of a warzone. Though she’d be quick to point out that nothing would stop her from fighting alongside us.

Gregor and Wolffe waited by the open docking ramp, watching for signs of anyone coming to greet us. We pushed past them and made our way down into the hangar platform just as the blast doors opened up to reveal not Syndulla himself, but my little brother.

“Well if it ain't the quacta calling the stifling slimy…” Howzer folded his arms as his gaze bounced between us, halting just a few feet away.

Howzer’s armor needed a fresh coat of teal green paint, the chest plate and shoulder pauldrons more faded and cracked than he would ever allow under normal circumstances, but his signature hair was still perfect. While the rest of our batch and I had always shaved our hair down to nothing, Howzer had grown his out–somehow still managing to look the most put-together. He had always been the most creative of us, and even when we’d given him shit for it, he’d never allowed his armor to look dull or his hair to fall flat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an Imperial now?” I joked darkly, mirroring his stance and narrowing my eyes.

Howzer scowled dramatically, pointing his finger at me and grumbling, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” He carefully studied my face now, taking in the state of me alive and well after all reports had me as good as dead. Before I could reply, he leapt forward and embraced me tightly, the relief melting the tension away. He had always been my most sensitive kih’vod and never liked to feel alone, even before we left the blank white halls of Kamino.

I wrapped my arms around him and held tight, communicating all the unspoken pain of trauma and loss during this war in one embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, Vod. Wish it was under better circumstances.” I pulled back, resting my hand on his shoulder and shaking him loose.

“I didn’t want to believe the reports. They couldn’t have gotten you. I’m glad my gut feeling was right, but why all the secrecy?” he asked, turning to look over my shoulder at the crew just behind me. “And how’d you manage to spring Commander Grouch from the Citadel?”

Wolffe growled, “I freed myself, thank you very much. Those bucket-head new troopers were no match for me. I never even made it to my cell.”

Gregor giggled, amused by Wolffe’s constant insults of the men he’d been forced to train. “Bucket-heads… that’s a good one, Wolffe. To be clear, he saved us and decided to tag along. I’m Gregor, by the way. Special Ops.”

Howzer shrugged, impressed at what we had managed to accomplish while still making it out in one piece. “So you snagged yourself a Commando, too. It’s just like you, blondie, to bring people together like this. Guess that’s why the general felt you were the man for the job.”

“Guess so. That and I’ve got a hell of a motivator here.” I cocked my head in her direction, Howzer’s eyes noticeably widening as he sized her up. “She’s the one whose message your men heard.” I beckoned for her to join me and she stepped beside us, holding her hand out to Howzer.

“I just told the truth, no need to thank me for advocating for all clones the way the galaxy should’ve done a long time ago. It also helps when you’ve been in love with one for nearly 4 years.” Her smile widened, eyes softening with the gentle fondness I’d come to know from her all this time. 

I tucked her into me and felt her grip tighten on my side again. Needy. Just as I thought, but no one else would have noticed. She stood tall and confident, the same way she did when she spoke to the Alliance. I couldn’t have been more proud to have her lead beside me and hoped all my brothers loved her the way I did. 

Howzer studied her and the way she held me more intently, “Wait–so you’re his…?” He connected the dots in his head, his eyes wild with realization. “Damn, Rex. No wonder it’s been so long. You’ve been busy.” 

“You have no idea,” Gregor and Wolffe chortled in unison as she turned around to argue with them playfully.

“Well, I can’t say I blame him. You’re stunning,” Howzer complimented bluntly, arching a brow at me and smirking. “Probably too good-looking for him, cyar’ika,” he added, taking her free hand again and pressing a polite kiss to her knuckles.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and looking over his shoulder at the door he’d come out of. “Alright, alright. Let’s get inside and you can all take turns clowning me later.”

“Erm… right. Well, the General’s probably just finishing his strategy meeting with his resistance leaders. Normally the Twi’leks like to throw banquets for guests, but there aren’t enough rations for anything extravagant right now. They are still planning to have you all meet everyone. The boys and I managed to scrounge up some leftover ration biscuits, the little green ones,” Howzer explained as he started toward the door, the rest of us falling into step behind him.

Gregor groaned loudly, the sound of his grumbling belly was loud enough to keep us all up at night. “I could crush about 20 of them right now. I’m starving.” We’d been running low enough on supplies that snacking mid-day was no longer an option, especially since she had to eat for two.

“How about fresh nerf stew and we save the rations for when we really need them?” a pleasant, accented voice called out from just down the hall. As we stepped past the blast door frame, a tall, elegant, green Twi’lek woman revealed herself, peeking out of a large room several doors away. She glanced at each of us briefly, likely taking stock of how much she could spare for each of us. “Howzer, dear, bring our guests into the hall with Cham and the others. We will bring everything out to you.”

“Yes, Eleni. Right away.” Howzer saluted her formally. Clearly, he respected her as equal to the general, so she must’ve been his wife. “The squad’s probably anxious to see you, too.” He herded us to the door just ahead of the one she’d peeked out of, and we disappeared into another hallway just as we heard her calling out in Twi’leki.

“How have your men been holding up since everything happened, Brother?” I asked, letting the other three take the lead down the long stone hallway.

“Not well, I’m afraid. There were no Jedi stationed on Ryloth, luckily, but we heard the chatter all over every comm channel. At first, we followed the Empire without question. What was the difference, you know?” He sighed deeply and mournfully as he recalled the time before the Free Ryloth movement had been able to gather enough force to push the Empire back. “Then things changed. Things stopped making sense. The chain of command stopped listening to us clones, started demanding we do things…” Howzer closed his eyes, shuddering and taking a deep breath.

“Things you knew weren’t right,” I finished, following his story to the same conclusion as all the rest now. “You had to make a decision for your men and the people you protected all these years.” I slung my arm over his shoulder, reassuring him the best way I could.

“Yeah, Rex. I did what I had to. I laid my weapons down and disobeyed orders because they went against the people I swore to protect. The Bad Batchers were here, too, and they helped us figure out what to do. Especially one of your old boys, Echo.” Howzer smiled, stopping in his tracks and looking up through a skylight in the cave ceiling. “A lot of my men defected that day and we’ve never looked back.”

I watched my little brother feeling the light hit him, maybe for the very first time. Though he’d been aged and weathered by the brewing storm of the constant battle for justice, he’d made the right choice. He saved his men, he saved his people, and he saved himself. We were all good men deep down and no mandated order would ever change that.

“I’m proud of you, Howzer. You did what many of our brothers could not. You saw a better way. That’s why we’re here now. We can do the same thing again for so many of our brothers who just need to see the way out. The chips forced us to act, but they cannot change who we are. My squad is planning on rescuing more clones if we can, but we’re going to need as much help as we can get. After this mission, are you in?” I asked gently, knowing that pulling him away from his duty to his people was a tall ask.

Howzer closed his eyes and bowed his head, running his fingers through his dark hair. When he opened them again the fire of determination that I saw in myself had sparked for him too. “I thought you’d never ask.” He reached out his hand and clasped it with mine tightly to signal a deal well struck. “I’m beside you always. My men will be on board, too.”

“We have to talk about removing their chips. It might be a little difficult here since things are so remote,” I thought aloud, moving to scratch at the healed scar along my hairline. “It’s the safest thing to do to make sure we can never be compromised like that again.”

Howzer moved to flank me, inspecting where the chip had been removed from me and wincing as he imagined having to cut through his hair to do it. “Yeah, I expected that. I’ll talk to the general and see what we can do. He’s got to know of a medical station somewhere around here. Twi’leks are a little more holistic than the Republic–they use healing herbs and careful doses of spice at times.”

We picked up our pace toward the banquet room, Howzer explaining more about what his men had been experiencing since the order happened. Nasty, brutal things. Some of his men reacted the usual way with blind fits of anger and lashing out at anyone not loyal to the Empire. Others experienced debilitating migraines or seizures from fighting so hard against the inhibitor chip to keep their consciousness. A few had even died, their brains having huge aneurysms from the overload of information the chip was programming into their minds.

I remembered not liking how it felt to have my mind taken over, but Ahsoka knocking me out and intervening likely saved me from enduring any of the after-effects that lots of clones seemed to be experiencing. Microdoses of spice and proper rest in a hangar locked away from Twi’leks or other brothers had allowed the more severe cases to run their course until the worst of it had died down. 

Howzer didn’t know exactly why he had never suffered quite as intensely as the rest of his men, but the best he could figure is that older clones seemed to have stronger willpower to resist their chip’s effects. However, full removal remained the only surefire guarantee that the nightmare would end.

Upon our entry to the banquet hall, we found the entirety of Cham’s protected population sitting in a large circle along the walls of a massive vaulted cavern held up by stone pillars. Some of Howzer’s men mingled among the Twi’leks while others huddled in sequestered groups, but I could feel their curious eyes on us. 

In the middle of the crowd, a group of Twi’lek men and women of every skin color imaginable performed an elaborate, lithe dance set to the thrumming rhythm of echoing steel drums. Not far from us, Cham sat with two of his advisors and a green Twi’lek child in a small alcove adorned with knit patterned tapestries and hand-painted drawings in bright pigments.

“Captain, welcome!” Cham called from his seat, beckoning our group forward. He raised his hands as he stood, and the dancing and drumming ceased. “My people! Tonight we welcome our new guests. They have come to help us retake our planet with their brothers. With their assistance, Ryloth will be free once again!”

The crowd erupted into cheers for a moment before the drums and dancing started up again, and somewhere in the chaos, my beloved was stolen away by Cham’s wife. Normally, I’d have been anxious to be parted from her, but the smile she tossed at me over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd put me at ease. Howzer and I took two of the remaining seat cushions beside Cham, while Gregor and Wolffe sat just behind us, cross-legged on plushy floor cushions. 

No sooner had we sat down than we were served the nerf stew we had been promised. Gregor sipped his portion down as if he hadn’t eaten in a week, but Wolffe’s mismatched eyes were fixed on the twists and turns of the women performing. If I followed his gaze, I could guess that the lovely red-skinned Twi’lek woman making eyes in his direction had caught his attention. Their behavior felt more normal than either of them had been in a long time, and I smiled to myself as they both seemed to enjoy the celebration.

“This was more welcome than we needed, General. You didn’t have to do all this,” I explained humbly, taking a cup of some kind of juice from a blue Twi’lek woman adorned in knit fabric far too revealing to be practical.

“Nonsense. You are guests, and it is customary for us to greet you in this way. It brings my people joy to celebrate what makes us special during times of strife.” Cham closed his eyes solemnly and massaged his temple with his right hand.

I glanced around the hall at the tired faces somehow able to find happiness to lend to others, even if only briefly. It was inspiring that their resolve hadn’t been broken, even through insurmountable odds. They truly were proud, determined people, and fighting alongside them would be incredibly rewarding if we managed to make any headway. I could see why Howzer was so hellbent on refusing to hurt the culture that had so graciously accepted him as one of their own.

Still, it was hard for me to relax knowing what we needed to accomplish. I was used to diligent planning and hours-long strategy meetings to prepare for missions of this magnitude. I could feel my mind racing with battle maneuvers and military strategy as the rest of the crowd enjoyed themselves.

Gregor and Wolffe were talking amongst themselves, glancing every so often at a group of women who were making eye contact and giggling whenever the two clones looked their way. That same red Twi’lek that had been dancing was among them now, and she kept shooting cheeky grins at them. They had been surrounded by clones for years, but recent bias must’ve made the two brothers look irresistible. I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing where that was probably going, and trying to distract myself from thinking about what I wanted to do to my mesh’la if I was ever able to locate her.

I shook the enticing image of her wearing some of the clothes the performers had on from my mind and turned toward Cham again. “General, when will we meet to strategize with your leaders? I have some ideas and–”

“Rex… relax. We have arranged a strategy meeting for tomorrow morning. We can talk about battle then. For now, enjoy a moment’s respite. Your partner understands…” he laughed, motioning at the same group of women who had been drooling over my brothers and suddenly finding her at the center of them.

I didn’t know if it was the aura from the cavern's skylights or the reflection of candlelight glittering off jewels hanging from the walls, but I was overcome by the sight of her glowing and laughing among them. Seeing her enjoying herself as the party wore on made my battle-anxious mind relax. To me, she was the most beautiful person here, and I smiled softly to myself as she finally made eye contact with me.

Her smile was soft and reverent, making her look every bit as stoic, classy, and put-together as she always carried herself among colleagues. Yet, I recognized the fire and lust simmering in the depth of her gaze.

She’d been overly needy all day, pawing and pulling at me at every chance she got, and something about the way she looked at me signaled that she was feeling a deep, magnetic desire. Her libido had always been powerful since the very first day I met her, but this look was something entirely different–maddeningly desperate and practically begging for me to whisk her away to have my way with her. It was all but confirmed as her eyes darkened and her tongue slipped out to wet her lips.

My own lust prickled down my spine and settled in my core, exacerbated by the floating aroma of incense and spice hanging thickly in the air. It took everything in me not to leap from my position and drag her to a quiet, dark corner of the palace. Before I could move an inch, she got lost in the circle of Twi’lek girls again, and I choked down my fantasies until I could get her alone.

I turned to the little girl seated beside Cham and asked for a small bowl of stew to be passed my way. She smiled earnestly and brought it over to me quickly, including another cup of the tart juice they all seemed to enjoy. 

“If you’re a Captain… does that mean you used to fly in big starships?” she asked eagerly, her little green head-tails twirling together in excitement. 

She reminded me of another bright-eyed, inquisitive young girl who never stopped asking me questions. Though the memories of a small, orange Jedi padawan bursting with excitement and eagerness for battle experience seemed so long ago.

“Yeah, kid. I flew on Venators and Acclamators lots of times. They’re not as fun as personal starships, though. I was never really that great of a pilot,” I shrugged, laughing to myself as I remembered all the times General Skywalker pointed out ways I could improve my starfighter piloting skills. I had gently reminded him that some of us had spent a lot less time being ten years old than he had.

“Well, I’m going to be one someday. Howzer says I’m already pretty good, but I’ll be the best in the galaxy,” she rambled excitedly, pulling a pair of haphazardly constructed flight goggles from the pocket of her leather jacket.

“Hera, come. Leave the men in peace, your mother wants you in bed soon,” Cham ordered, apologizing silently as he whisked her away behind him. “Apologies. She’s still learning.”

“That’s alright. I’ve got a lot to learn too,” I replied, the second part muttered more to myself than anyone else. Cham stared at me quizzically as he tried to figure out what I meant when we were interrupted by a group of women approaching our alcove. Slowly, they parted and my bold cyar’ika guided three of them toward where Gregor and Wolffe sat, eyes glued to the girls instead of the performance.

“Boys, this is Noola, Ryloo, and Zeeta. Ladies, this is Wolffe and Gregor. You won’t find better men to keep you company. You can take my word for it.” She turned and winked at me suggestively, Cham looking at me and chuckling to himself. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment and I took a sip of my drink to calm my nerves.

The three women parted from the group and approached my brothers. Zeeta, the red Twi’lek whose bright green eyes had been on us all night, made her way over to Wolffe. She began running her fingers along his shoulder pauldron and whispering something in his ear that made his brows raise instantly. His hand shot out to grab her by the waist and pull her down on his thigh. They took turns exchanging words, and his hand settled at the exposed small of her back.

At the same time, the other two women–Noola, who was bright purple, and Ryloo, a soft green–joined Gregor on either side, kneeling beside him and curling their arms around his biceps. Gregor lit up like a supernova, his irresistible charm instantly pulling the girls into him like a magnet. They listened to him talk and giggled in unison at all his jokes, genuinely finding him as delightful as he claimed women always did.

My attention was turned toward my partner who had reached her hand down to pull me up to my feet. “See? I told them I’d work something out. They should be well taken care of until morning.” 

Pulling her close, I ran my palm up her back, pressing her into me to both feel her and to possessively let the whole group know who I was with. I leaned down to whisper teasingly in her ear, “Does that mine I get you all to myself tonight?” Had we not been in such a public setting, I would’ve laved my tongue and lips along her neck, but that would have to be for later. “Can I take you away now?”

She moaned more than sighed, the lust overwhelming her and making her tremble in my grasp. “Please.” She rested both hands on my chest and stole a glance at my lips like she wanted to be consumed by the need building between us. “Please, Rex. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

—

The guest quarters in Cham Syndulla’s family palace were nicer than anything I’d ever stayed in. The old sandstone structure was built to blend with a large network of massive caverns on Ryloth’s naturally rocky terrain. Cham was kind enough to give Rex and me the larger of the three rooms, while both Gregor and Wolffe seemed more than content with whatever room could accommodate their new company for tonight.

It was like a private villa. Our own living space with jewel-toned chaise lounges and a carved marble table that was etched with a retelling of Ryloth’s thousand-year history. Normally a large banquet-style feast would be held on a table like this, but given the circumstances, there wasn’t nearly enough food to constitute a feast. Nonetheless, Cham’s wife, Eleni, had been kind enough to bake fresh bread and leave a few pieces of fruit beside it on the center of the table. 

It was customary for Twi’leks from Ryloth to give to their visitors as a friendly extension of their hospitality, but Eleni seemed to be offering this out of more than just custom. She had watched my movements the entire night, taking notice of the way I avoided any of the alcoholic refreshments at the celebration, and kept a firm, almost needy hold on Rex as we were welcomed into a strange place.

When Rex and I entered the bathroom off of the guest bedroom, I knew that Eleni had figured it out. On the shelves and counters of the natural hot spring bathroom were dozens of soothing oils, medicinal herbs, and healing serums specifically for expectant mothers. I turned to Rex in shock, in enough disbelief that he thought I may have been accusing him of spilling our secret.

He shook his head and chuckled, “I promise, I haven’t said a thing to her. Seems like she just knows. Mother’s intuition maybe. You know she and Cham have little ones,” he reassured me, his warm hand on my lower back instantly soothing a particular spot that had been bothering me now for a few days. I closed my eyes and sighed at the contact, Rex moving to massage the spot a little more. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my already burning arousal ignite even more.

The last few days had seen the hormone levels in my body skyrocket out of control, which I knew would hit me eventually. Sometimes this resulted in anger or irritability that I had to do my best to tamp down around the guys. Other times it resulted in what I felt now–pure, unfiltered, and unbearable lust. Even just watching Rex’s broad shoulders rise and fall as he breathed would set me off now. The pool of heat that collected at my center would pound and throb until something was done to quell the desire; a side effect that Rex was more than enjoying. 

In this moment, the muggy steam of the hot spring combined with Rex’s touch on my body made my toes curl. I felt my nipples bud and the space between my thighs dampen with an overwhelming need for him. I took in a deep breath, opening my eyes to let out a slow sigh, one with enough allure to get his attention. “Rex.” I whispered, turning my face to look up at him desperately. What started as an innocent reassuring of his presence had suddenly become so much more than that.

Rex perked up, his sly smirk curling his pretty, plush lips at the corners and his brow arching with intrigue. “Did I do something, mesh’la?” He asked, pretending he was blissfully unaware of my body’s reaction to him. “Because I know that sound… and I know what usually comes with it,” he teased, his arm slowly circling my side to pull him into me.

“You...” I gulped, his body heat beginning to join the long list of sensations I was feeling taking over me. “You did and are doing something to me. Did you seal the door to our bedroom?” I asked with shaky breaths as his familiar musky, woodsy, lived-in scent began to flood around me.

He chuckled deeply, and I felt the vibration heavily in my chest that was just painfully aching for touch. “Yes, I did. Not that, that was going to stop us, right?” he muttered, flicking off the lights and letting the skylight in the cavern ceiling illuminate the space now. 

“Nothing is going to stop me right now,” I admitted through gritted teeth. I rested my hands on the counter and looked up at my reflection in the mirror, a dark shade of lust overtaking me as I watched Rex butt himself up behind me. He slotted his chin into the space just below my jaw, both his arms now wrapping around my waist.

He peppered small, intimate kisses on my skin, now coated in a sheen of humidity and sweat, and emitted a determined, raspy groan, “Sounds like a challenge, pretty girl. Think I can help?” 

Suddenly, he licked a long stripe up the corded vein in my neck and I gasped, my blood pulsing faster as my heart raced with anticipation, overheating me with desire. 

“Talk to me, cyar’ika. Need me to make you feel good?” Rex asked against the shell of my ear, beginning to work at the clothes keeping my bare skin from his.

“Please, gods yes, Rex. It’s unbearable… I feel like I’m on fire. Everywhere,” I whimpered, meeting his nimble fingers at the hem and helping him pull off my top in one gesture. My chest erupted from it, swollen breasts and pebbled nipples reacting dramatically to the change in temperature.

Rex let out a satisfied grunt, making eye contact with me in the mirror as his calloused hands moved to cup them. He kneaded them carefully, kissing my jaw and pressing them together to make me writhe at the contact.

“There… that a little better? You are fucking perfect… tits getting so big. You’re spoiling me. Just look at how pretty you are. Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more fucking beautiful… you just had to go and take hold of some of me,” he whimpered playfully, watching my eyes hood closed as he rolled one nipple between his fingers and spread his other hand over the growing swell of my bump.

“Yes… that’s good–oh fuck, Rex…” I mewled, melting into his touch as he caressed any part of my torso he could get his hands on. “Everything about you right now is driving me crazy.” I moved my hands to grip his arm, trying to spur him into going a little lower where the unrelenting pounding was taking root.

“Tell you what… how about I get all this off, we both get in that hot spring tub and I touch wherever you need me to. Sound good, my love?” he offered, his hands slipping past the waistband of my bottoms to begin tugging them down my thighs. He paused as he leaned down to help me step out of my pants and turned me to take one of my breasts in his calloused hand, his tongue flicking over the nipple and making me whine at the contact.

“Rex! Strip and get me in that spring before I faint. I’m–ah!–so sensitive right now… everything you’re doing feels so good it hurts,” I explained, my hand flying up to support the back of his head and tugging at his blonde curls gently. I smiled happily at the rush of pleasure racing to my core. With my pants and underwear around my ankles, he released my breast with a lewd pop and used this momentary break to step back and glance over me.

“Fuck–bend over,” he ordered, pulling his shirt off his back and tossing it into the pile of clothes on the floor.

I obliged, leaning onto the counter and pressing my enlarged breasts into the cool stone.. I shivered as his hands softly traced down the dips in my back, pulling both sides of my ass apart to get a good look at my center. He chuffed softly, running a fingertip up my inner thigh. 

“You’re so wet it’s dripping down your thighs, mesh’la.” He collected it on his digits and popped a finger into his mouth, groaning in delight as he stepped out of his pants. “Get in there before I take you right fucking here,” he instructed with a playful slap to my right cheek.

I spun around to give him a once over and bit my lip at the sight of his growing length. “You know that’s why I’m like this… you’re sexy,” I giggled, my gaze flicking down to the part of him I knew better than anyone and smirking teasingly. 

Rex shook his head and stepped forward, resting his hands on my hip bones as he walked us both over to the steaming hot pool. “And that mouth of yours is why I’m like this.” He laughed, lifting me up and helping me step in. The water wasn’t much of a relief, the simmering warmth wrapping around my already overheated body as I settled down in it.

Steam plumed upwards off the glimmering pool's surface, now broken as it swirled around my every curve. I sat back, dunking my shoulders under the warmth and relishing in the sensation of water rippling around me.

Rex followed behind, his large biceps caging me in as he dragged my body back into his broad chest. I tipped my head back to rest on his shoulder, grabbing his forearm curling around me protectively. His body brushing against mine in any facet was making me tremble with an excitement I hadn’t felt since the first time we slept together.

He reached up to hold my chin in his fingers, leaning over to press our lips together and roll his tongue along mine slowly. Every gasping inhale was like breathing in pure arousal, making me moan in his mouth as it dissolved into pleasure spreading throughout my body. I broke the kiss, my jaw slack and my chest heaving as more heat rolled down to drip into my core. He buried his face in the space behind my ear, brushing my hair aside and speaking filth in deep whispers. “Where do you need me, ner mesh’la? I’m here for you.”

“Everywhere. Anywhere. Just want to feel you on me. Know you’re there,” I gasped, feeling his laugh behind my back as he relished in my desperation for him. He ghosted his knuckles over my cheekbone affectionately to remind me what this was all for before he eased his palms down my shoulders.

“Always here. For both of you. I promise,” he muttered, his hands coming to rest on my belly. “You’re so fucking strong,” he breathed, bumping my jaw with his nose, kissing along my pulse point, and letting his touch travel back up to my breasts. “So resilient, bold, smart… carrying my little one and looking so beautiful. I am the luckiest man alive, and I am proud to call you mine.” He paused between words to suck at the soft skin on my neck, hard enough to break blood vessels and distract me from the tension in my core.

He wasn’t doing anything to break the tension, but his words were slowing the rhythm, allowing me to focus on something else besides the overwhelming need tearing my body apart. I blushed as if his words were more intimate and exposing than being laid bare before him. “Is this supposed to make me want to fuck you less? Because you’re not accomplishing that very well with flattery.”

“If you’re feeling sane enough to be bratty, then I’d say it’s working.” He nipped my collarbone softly, making me jump and slap his arm playfully. “Smart mouth. Let me catch up to you and then we’ll see how much you feel like talking.” His cock twitched against my back, his love of being in charge was always the fastest way to turn him on. I moved to rest my head on his shoulder, letting him look into my eyes as he touched me.

His firm grip on my breasts made my breath hitch in my chest, his devilish smirk and fire igniting in his doting gaze signaled that he knew exactly what he was doing trying to light me up again, but slowly this time. “I want to fuck these so bad… you’re a dream for a boobs guy like me, you know? Gonna let me do that someday soon, pretty girl?” He flicked my nipple with his index finger, the bud pebbling up and making static erupt beneath his touch.

I swallowed hard, my hips bucking in response and my backside rubbing against his cock gently. “Fuck–mmmmm… mhmm. Can do whatever you want to me. You know that,” I groaned in frustration, wishing he would sink himself as deep inside me as I craved. The water encircling us both rippled and swirled around with our every movement, the blistering heat adding just another layer of pleasure to my already overwhelmed body. 

“I do,” He muttered softly. “I’ve got a whole list of things I know you like. Using binders, riding my cock, being edged… oh, you love that, don't you?” His listing every profane memory we had together was making the pressure in my core throb even more, and he knew it. The longer he worked me up, the better and more satisfying the result would be later on. Rex was more than a pro at this by now.

“Aren’t those all things you like?” I shot back, reaching to grip his muscular sides and dig my nails into his flesh. I could feel his heart beating into my back, racing to keep up with the desire rushing through his veins. 

He dipped down, his lips pressed to my collarbone softly trailing along the length of it carefully while his fingers pulled and tugged at both nipples. “‘Course. Especially with you,” he smirked against my skin. “Now are you going to tell me what you need? What feels good?” he whispered, his stubble tickling me as his jaw worked to place kisses following his every word.

I huffed impatiently, whimpering as he slid out from behind me, warm water swirling in to take his place. “Rex… you know what I want. You know where I need you.” I inhaled sharply as he interrupted my complaints with his lips wrapped around my nipple, his tongue swirling across the node. He hummed in a mix of pleasure and amusement, his expertise when it came to me enough to make him a little bit cocky.

“I know, mesh’la. But now you’ve got me all riled up, too, and you look far too pretty like this for me to give in this easily.” He looked up, guiding himself back up my body and tipping my chin up between his fingers. “I want to run my fingers through you, taste you, and fuck that pretty pussy until that ache goes away. I’ll do anything for my perfect girl.”

I couldn’t contain the wide smile that spread across my face. “I love you.” I leaned in to capture his lips with mine, passionately entwining us as the pressure became too much for me not to act on. I rocked into him and he sat back again, spreading my legs as I eased onto the width of his thigh.

His gaze trailed up my body, watching the delight on my face as I began chasing my pleasure by grinding against him. He huffed softly, his palm resting on the small of my back to maneuver me gently. “Feels good, huh?” His opposite hand smoothed up the curve of my side and messaged my breast. “You look so beautiful. Even when you’re being such a fucking tease.”

I smiled, both as a playfully bold response to his words and because the slowly building friction on my clit was finally starting to slightly soothe the ache. I glanced down at where his cock throbbed against my thigh, and I wrapped my hand lightly around him. “Oh please, you clearly love being teased, Captain.”

He hissed softly, his fingertips tracing up my spine as he tucked me further into his torso. “Then tease, mesh’la. Overwhelm me,” he whispered seductively, following it with a throaty moan that made my head spin. 

The sticky skin-to-skin contact had us both entranced in the simmering tension. When I moved my hips against his thigh, I brushed his cock gently. Every movement from one affected the other until we were so wound tight with pleasure teetering on the edge between us that we couldn’t take it anymore.

Rex’s kisses slid hot and wet against my steam-covered skin and every buck of my hips sent him slipping over to some untouched part of me. Pleasure pricked every exposed inch of my skin, and his soft moans and words of encouragement spurred things faster. All we did was rub, touch, and writhe until both of us were whipped into a tantalizing frenzy. His weighted palms traveled up my back, into my hair, down my sides, and on top of my thighs, and I gripped his biceps to hold myself steady against him.

I was far too impatient to keep up this pace with the powerful rush of imbalanced hormones fueling me, so I dug into his shoulder and relaxed into his lap, easing over to center myself on top of him. “Take me, Rex. Now… right now,” I begged, resting my hands on either side of his face and forcing his eyes up to meet mine.

A filthy, devilish smirk split his lips and we were in the air in one swift motion. He supported me in one hand and splashed us out of the hot spring. Making his way over to a tall mirrored wall, he reached over to the counter and grabbed one of the natural oils that had been left for us to use. He set me on my feet in front of my reflection and laid a few towels below to cushion us before sitting down. “C’mere mesh’la.” 

I followed, seating myself between his thighs and tipping my head back to watch his beautiful eyes. With one hand he screwed the top off the slightly spicy-scented oil and tipped it into his palm. He guided his other hand to gently wrap around my neck and swallowed my whispered moan of his name in a kiss.

My reflection in the mirror was a sight; my hair was a tousled mess from where he’d gripped it earlier, my eyes blown out with maddening lust so powerful it made my vision blurry, and my lips swollen from passionate kisses. His deep, mesmerizing brown gaze was fixed on me in the mirror, and my naked, dripping body was now shining in oil and covered in slight purple bruises–ones he always smoothed over with a roll of his tongue. 

“Look at me. I want you to watch what I do to you.” One of his oil-covered hands turned my face to look into the mirror while the other traveled down my belly, over my hip, and turned inward as he grazed my thigh. “Do you like being so filthy for me?” he groaned softly in my ear as I writhed in his slippery grip, cocking an eyebrow and prompting me for an answer.

I dipped my head down and suckled his thumb into my mouth, not caring about the slick sensation of the tasteless oil on my tongue. I felt him shudder behind me as he watched the plush of my lips encircle his thick digit, but before I had a chance to tease him with my tongue, he pried my mouth open and held me there. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

“Mhmm. I love to watch you work me up, to feel your hands on me and your cock ready for me, Captain. You can’t resist me when I’m bold,” I giggled, and he rewarded my response with another laving warm pass of his tongue in the space beneath my ear. “I want your fingers,” I whined as his hands pushed my thighs apart painfully slowly.

“I know you do. I can feel how much you want me, mesh’la. You impatient little minx… you want my fingers in the heat of your gorgeous pussy,” he muttered, his index finger tracing the most deliberate and agonizingly slow circle on my clit. I tipped my head back as a moan ripped through me, my breasts rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath to keep up with his pace. “Fuuuck… you’re wet.” A wry, suggestive smirk reached his eyes, smoldering with passion while he watched my hypersensitive body react.

“It’s torture. B-but it feels… feels so good. More, baby. More. Want you inside. Rex, I want–” A truly indecent thought came to mind as my hormone-fueled lust overtook my sanity. I brought my knees higher, angling my center for a perfect view in the mirror and watching myself unfold illicitly. Rex’s cock throbbed into my back at the sight of me presenting myself so willingly and obscenely for his taking. He whimpered quietly, his mind probably running three steps ahead in his fantasy, knowing he’d be the only one to ever see me this way.

“What do you want, my pretty girl? Hmm? What can I do to make you mine all over again?” he asked with renewed desperation. Even he was beginning to lose self-control in this compromised position.

“Hold me open. Make me watch myself come on your fingers, Rex, please,” I begged, my hole contracting involuntarily as my arousal took on a life of its own. I watched his eyes roll back in delight, his circling touch on my clit inching ever closer to my aching core. “Now. Please!” I begged again, curling my fingers around his wrist settled between my legs.

“Oh, fuck–mesh’la… like this?” His lips latched onto my neck, his eyes glued to where he let his thumb and middle finger hold my slick folds open. 

My breathing stuttered as a rush of cool air blew chills through my heat and made my entrance flex. More slick dripped down to glisten in my slit, making Rex let out an audible and sinful moan.

 “Look at you… look how much your pretty pussy needs it. You need my cock so fucking bad.”

I could do nothing but hold onto his wrist with one hand and hold myself upright in position with the other. Rex’s fingertips rubbed through the wetness coating me from his drawn-out torture, and the two thickest digits on his opposite hand slipped through my soaked opening with ease. I cried out, a high-pitched, melodic whine filling the cavernous refresher room, and it made Rex emit a low grunt to harmonize with mine beautifully. “Rex, oh yes… that’s it.”

“Yeah? Does that help, ner mesh’la? You’re wound tight, but you’re doing so well for me.” He gently pressed his fingers within me to the knuckle and flexed them against my wet, collapsing walls. With his chest pressed against my back and biceps wrapped around me, he trapped me in the perfect comfort of his grasp. Slowly, he hooked his ankles over mine, holding my legs in place to prevent me from squirming while he worked my insides into a frenzy.

I could barely form words as the molten heat inside me boiled over into his hands. Each curl of his fingertips into the plush of my core made desire sear hotter in my lower belly, and the recoil was so strong it made me arch my back and buck my hips into him for more. I bit my lip to hold back screams that would only carry the sound of his name into the echoing cavern. “Rex, yes. Yes, that helps. F-fuck it's so good, baby. Deeper. Mmmf, you’re so… so good with your hands.”

A cocky smirk drew against my jaw as he padded up against the front of my walls, and I let out a strangled yelp. “I know,” he cooed, nuzzling my cheek with the bridge of his nose to urge me to keep my eyes on the mirror. “Watch, mesh’la. Gonna make you cum just like this. Then I’ll let you lick it off my fingers while I take you apart with my cock. How’s that sound?” 

He slid his fingers out painfully slowly, the wet shlicking sound making him groan. A thin trail of my wetness connected me to the space between his fingers. His hot exhales fanned my cheek as he rested his temple against mine, leaning in every so often to dot sloppy kisses along my sweat-slick skin.

“Yes, Rex. That’s p-perfect. Exactly what I need. You always know. Know me so well, my love.”

I reached behind to dig my fingers into his lengthening blonde curls, leaning him into a weighted, desperate kiss. Saliva slid sticky and sweet between our twisting tongues, and I moaned into his mouth as he curled two fingers back inside me. He relentlessly pressed up on that delightfully sensitive spongy spot at the shallow front of my walls and flicked at my clit with the pad of his thumb. I broke the kiss to inhale sharply, gazing back at my reflection in the mirror while the squelching sounds of him finger fucking me got louder and more obscene. 

He sucked at the juncture of my neck and jaw and swore incoherently as I began to spasm around him. “You’re so close. Can feel it, almost there. Little more. You can do it. Cum for me… all over me. C’mon, ner mesh’la,” he encouraged, maneuvering his wrist faster and increasing the unbearable pressure to a level I could no longer take. 

“Rex! I’m gonna–REX!” Heat drained down my body and released at my core, the ensnaring warmth having nowhere to go but out as my walls collapsed around his thick fingers. 

“There you go… oh, yes, fuck–look at that. That’s my good girl,” he rasped, his palm, wrist, and forearm drenched in my release. I trembled as the pleasure burst through me, desperate high-pitched moans swallowed by his all-consuming kisses. The pleasure was like an endless wave rolling through me, taking its time ripping through the agonizing carnal desire that had been plaguing me all day. 

Rex’s powerful legs against mine held me open as I watched my opening ripple obscenely. He whispered tender words of adoration as the tension wracking my frame finally started to recede. “My girl… so gorgeous when she cums for me. Let it all out just for me. I know how to make you feel so good, don’t I? Is that what my love does to you? Made this pretty little pussy all mine already.”

I panted and muttered soft agreements, letting my body collapse back into his and feeling his arms wrap protectively around me. “How… did you do… that?” I gasped, giggling as he kissed tears of ecstasy off my cheeks. My fingers laced with his on my belly, and I rubbed up against his cock, wet precum definitely smearing along the small of my back.

“I’m good with my hands, remember?” he teased, walking his fingers up my torso until they were enticingly dangling in front of my lips. 

I tipped my head back on his shoulder and laughed as I tried to catch my breath. My eyes followed his gaze in the mirror, seductively admiring the sight of me naked, sweaty, and writhing against him. 

“Now clean up this mess you made before I split you apart this time.” He offered his fingers, brushing them against my lower lip and coating it with my own slick.

I swirled my tongue around his middle digit and suckled it inside the wet cavern of my mouth. I swallowed the sweet tang of my release and wrapped my lips around him tightly, mimicking what I’d do to his cock if it wasn’t inconveniently positioned behind me. He was way too far gone already to last that kind of torture by now anyways. I could feel him slotted between my cheeks, pounding and anxiously waiting for his turn to feel bliss. 

Slowly, I sat forward, lifting my hips and teasing him with either side of my ass. He grunted, tipping his head down to watch himself slide slickly between me. I popped off his fingers lewdly and his hand immediately captured my hip bone, starting to maneuver my center to his liking. “Want me to ride you, Captain? Just like this? Now that I’m all soaked and ready for your cock?” I teased devilishly, dragging my nails up his thighs and grinning wickedly at him in the mirror.

“Oh yeah, I do. Mesh’la, I want to fuck you so bad and watch you bounce on me… so fucking hot,” Rex rasped, his gravelly tone dropping harshly as his lust overtook him. Deep moans spread through his chest as his hands explored what he could only see through our reflections. He pressed my tits together roughly, kneading them in both his strong hands as I twisted my bottom half against his rock-hard cock.

“You want this pussy, Captain?” I mocked, lifting my hips up just enough to slide his cock between my drenched lips explicitly. He moaned my name in confirmation and his hands gripped at the plush of my hips to move me faster. “Then come and take what’s already yours, Rex,” I offered, slowing my rolling hips as his tip neared my entrance. “Show me why you own me.”

In seconds, Rex thrust himself inside, pushing my swollen walls apart again with a loud shout. I threw my head back and my jaw dropped, the width of his throbbing cock beating against the aching knot in my core with deliciously painful satisfaction. He could reach exactly where the burning desire took root every single time, without fail. I flailed wildly for something to hold onto and found purchase again on the tops of his muscular thighs. We sat pressed together for what felt like forever, neither one of us strong enough to begin any semblance of a rhythm when being sealed together so tightly already felt this good.

Rex rolled his hips up first, his cock bottoming out easily inside the space that was quickly becoming too small to contain him. Every bump of his tip against my deepest spot made me squeal in pleasure. He snickered tauntingly, knowing full well how easy it was for him to bring me to another high just by pressing himself into me this deeply. “That’s the spot, mesh’la, I know it is. Just fucked you apart once and you’re still so fucking tight. You needed my cock. Is that it? I can reach where no one else can. That’s why you’re all mine.” 

“Yes, Rex. You’re right there, right where I want you. Where it hurts. Where I need you to fuck until it feels better. Please,” I begged, lifting my hips and rotating them as I started grinding down on him desperately. “Your cock… it's all I ever want. Rex!” I could feel his fingers starting to circle my clit again, still sensitive from being played with so mercilessly once already. Pressure mounted in between my thighs and heat swelled through every part of my body all over again.

Rex helped guide my hips on him at the speed he liked, and he watched himself disappear inside me in the mirror with every bounce on his cock. “I could fuck you like this forever. Till the end of my fucking days. I want to watch you drain my fucking cock, mesh’la. Look so good taking all of me… feel s-so good. I want to fill you full of me. Bouncing this perfect ass on me while you take every inch of me…” He leaned back and rested on his forearms to get a better look, slapping my right cheek roughly every time I slid up to the tip.

“Whenever you want, Captain. You can have all of me. Always. Fuck… Rex… fuck me. I want to cum again on your cock,” I pleaded, tossing my hair behind me and feeling him twirl it into the grip of his left hand. I rode him faster, the length of him spearing into my spot in a blinding hot mix of pleasure and pain. I moaned loudly, the echoes of his name filling the cavern and rippling the calm surface of the hot spring. Skin slapping skin lewdly filled my ears and Rex’s low moans of pleasure spurred me on faster. 

His breathing became harsher and harsher, his sworn words of pleasure hitching in his throat as higher-pitched whines took their place. I didn’t relent, feeling his circles on my clit speed up as the tingling of my nerves blended with the tightly wound knot simmering in my belly. 

His cock jumped and he sat up on instinct, clutching me to him and seating me firmly into his lap as he felt white hot pleasure bubbling up within him. “Oh fuck–mesh’la… I’m gonna cum. I want to fill you so deep and watch it spill out… leak out that pretty pussy. Make a mess of my perfect dirty girl. Fuck... fuck cum on my cock… cum with me, my love… fuuuck–” he rambled, kissing up my neck and groaning deeply in my ear, the reflection of his dark eyes meeting mine.

His twisting circles on my clit sped up tenfold to catch me up, and I gasped feeling the pleasure ignite inside my core. I reached behind me to grip him by the hair and pulled tightly as he rocketed my nerves over the edge into overstimulation. I could do nothing but bite my lip to hold back the scream as my second orgasm exploded into stardust that radiated through my body. My walls pulsed around him at the same time he sent ropes of wet heat erupting into the deepest depths of my belly. I gripped his throbbing cock in the vice of my walls and held on tight as we both writhed in unison.

“Rex… Rex… Rex… Reeex–” I sputtered as pleasure seemed to take turns making its way through both of our bodies. His cock throbbed over and over, pass after pass filling up the emptiness inside more than there could ever be space to contain. My grip on him wouldn’t lessen as the fantastic high swirled through the blood in my veins, finally extinguishing the torturous hormone-crazed lust in my core.

He panted in my ear, doing his best to keep it going as we both toppled down from an overwhelming high. “I’m here, mesh’la. Fuck… I’ve got you.” He relaxed and dropped his thighs open, releasing the bind they had on mine and letting me fall open in front of him. I groaned as his cock slid out and the swirling streams of his release spilled out like a slow leak from my still-spasming hole. It dripped to the floor below and made his eyes roll back in his head as he watched it continue to coat the inside of my folds.

“See? That’s… all yours… baby. Always yours to fill like this whenever you want,” I whimpered through my blissed-out haze, feeling it spill onto my inner thighs. 

“You’re so fucking… filthy. Gods, I fucking love you. I love you,” he said incredulously, kissing up my neck, along my jaw, and across my cheeks until he reached my lips. “You’ve gotta feel better now, darling, because… clearly… I’m spent… you milked me dry, gorgeous.”

I hummed happily, melting into his grasp and holding his hands now wrapping around my waist. “I’m better now. So much better.” I tipped my head back to rest on his shoulder and nuzzled my face into his neck. He tenderly spread his fingers on the swell of my little bump, perhaps trying to feel for any more flutters. “Maybe now I can finally sleep.”

Before I knew it, I was being cleaned with a washcloth and scooped into his arms while I faded on the edge of consciousness. For the first time in ages, my body felt calm and boneless, my every nerve ending satisfied. He relaxed me the best way he knew how, and I was so at ease I could finally close my eyes and settle beside him in bed.

The sheets were soft and cool compared to the muggy spa room, and the smell of Rex’s clean, woodsy scent flooded my nose. He curled me into his side, both his arms hugging me into him protectively. 

It felt like all of us could finally rest for the first time in weeks, knowing we were in a safe place surrounded by more free brothers than Rex and I had seen in a long time. We were all on the same side–all of us committing to fighting for something better for the clones, for Ryloth, and for family.

I spent the next few minutes relishing in the sweet, peaceful sounds of nature of Ryloth’s night. Plants rustled in the breeze just outside a window-shaped opening in the cavern walls and nocturnal creatures sang to each other as they thrived when the rest of the planet slept. Rex’s breathing soon steadied beneath my cheek, and I drifted off shortly after, falling impossibly deeper in love with him to the sound of his breathing.

--

Notes: hi there :) it's been awhile. the last few chapters have been tough and emotional, even on me to write. so i figured what better way to give us all a break than to let our faves get some. ps that includes some bonus works coming soon for both wolffe and gregor's sexcapades during this chapter ;) a big massive wonderful special thank you to erin for being the best beta reader and friend ever

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[empty-blog-for-lurking]

I think there should have been a scene where a character is trapped with Zarkon, Haggar, and Lotor and none of the parties can kill each other or themselves for contrived plot reasons and said character is forced to counsel these three. I dont want nor expect it to fix anything nor do i want some shit like "healing" or "forgiveness" from this. No, the reason i want this is because the image of some poor cunt being forced to even begin to entangle this 10,000+ years of apocalyptic family drama who have combined body count in trillions and yet zero self reflection between them is just. Very funny to me.

Anyway i vote Lance because 1) it's going to go tits up in most amazing way possible 2) this is more likely to kick start Lance's villain arc which is always win for me 3) Allura, Coran, Kuron and Shiro have too close a relationship to them to have an unbiased opinion (as in they hate atleast two of them so fucking much and want to kill them so fucking bad). 4) I dont want to do this to Hunk, cause like why? Hasnt he suffered enough? He has done nothing wrong in his life to deserve this, like literally free him

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Captain Marvel: Part One

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: For the sake of this rewrite, Howard and Maria Stark dies on December 16, 1997 instead of 1991. Tony is 23 when they die.

x

What planet will be your next home? Where are you going to go? The love of your life and your best friend are dead, there's no one tying you to Earth, and you're free to go wherever you want for however long. Maybe drifting in space is the way to go at this point. There isn't a habitable planet in Earth's solar system, so you have to go outside of it to find one.

Space is an ever-expanding place with trillions of planets in just one galaxy. There's bound to be a habitable planet somewhere close by. The Solar System is located closer to the edge of the Milky Way galaxy than the middle of it, and when you reach the center of the galaxy, there is a whole mess of planets just waiting for you to claim them.

Off in the distance, you notice a gigantic spaceship hovering over a planet. If you're nice enough, maybe whoever is occupying that ship might let you hang with them for a while. From the time you escaped your home to arriving on Earth, there have been plenty of spaceships you've come across. Some of them weren't hostile, but others made your skin crawl from how evil the occupants could be.

Let's hope this craft is the former.

As you approach the ship, someone from inside notices you coming toward them. A circle opened on the base of the wing of the craft right above you, and they use their technology to beam you up into their craft. In a flash, you're transported from space onto the lower deck. Everyone inside had blue skin and they all had their space guns trained on you. They must not like intruders.

The person in the middle must be their leader because they all seem to look to him for instruction.

"I mean you no harm. I just wish to ask for transportation to the nearest habitable planet," you say with your hands up in defense mode.

They clearly don't want visitors, so you'll have to make do on another planet by yourself. Your space helmet is removed digitally, but the rest of your suit stays on your body in case they kick you out of their ship.

"Where are you from?" the leader asks.

"Sir, she's from Xenia," one of the soldiers says.

He must have seen the logo on your back which you tried so hard to hide. Your home planet has a lot of bad blood with other planets, even from multiple galaxies away. Markus was smart, but he wasn't very hospitable. The leader quickly aims his gun at you, causing the other soldiers to be on high alert.

They need to kill for him whenever he asks it of them.

"Xenia. What business do you have with us, the Kree Empire? That planet has caused nothing but trouble for a lot of people."

"I know, but I don't mean you harm. It's been such a long time since the great battle, things are different now."

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"How lucky am I to have come across the subject that was injected with the power that comes from the Tesseract?" he asks with an evil grin. He gestures to someone behind you and that someone puts handcuffs on you so quickly that you don't have time to react. One of the soldiers presses something to your neck which sends a chill down your spine. The leader walks closer to you and bends to reach your level. "I can't wait to find out more about you, Y/N."

"Ronan, where would you like her?"

"With the others."

Two soldiers drag you down to where they hold all of their prisoners. You'd use your powers to get out of here, but whatever they planted on your neck prevents you from shifting.

You're screwed beyond belief.

"In here," the guard seethes as he throws you into one of their cages.

There are many slaves and hostages on this level of the ship, but only one person shares your cage. He is the same shade of blue as the other soldiers, and you wonder if they would lock one of their own down here.

"What's your name?" the man asks without looking up from his spot on the cot. The pain is still there from the injection in your neck, but the burning in your spine is gone. "They do that to every single one of us. They have to do it daily because they aren't smart enough to make the effects last longer than twenty-four hours."

"I'm Y/N. Who are you?"

"They call me Yondu. What put you down here with the rest of us?"

"They found out who I am. If I had known they were the Kree, I would have never come aboard this ship," you whisper.

"And who are you?"

"I'm from Xenia. They want me because I have the power of the Tesseract running through my veins."

"You're in for a lot of pain, Y/N. They had the Tesseract once, but it was stolen from them. Now they're looking for it, and if they know that its power runs within you, then you're going to become their new best friend," he chuckles.

"What did they put in my neck? I can't use my powers."

"Yeah, it stops them. Most everyone here has powers, but that injection stops it from working."

"It's nice to meet you, Yondu," you sigh and sit on your own cot. The only response you get is a grunt followed by a nod.

Ronan is smart not to keep clocks or dates of any kind around the prisoners because not having a sense of time is torturous. The other slaves mark their walls each day they're trapped, and some of them have well over hundreds of days. You're not going to find a better way to keep track of the time, so you opted to do this same thing.

The first few years of being trapped were the worst. Ronan did everything he could to try and break you. He tried every form of torture you could think of, but nothing compares to the torture Markus did to you. Yeah, what Ronan did hurt but after a few years, you became numb to it.

Their efforts are kind of amusing at this point. So, when you're brought into their "torture chamber", you don't bat an eye for them.

"You know, Y/N, I'm impressed," Ronan says. "Not a lot of people can hold out the way you can. What, it's been six years since you first came aboard this ship? You're stronger than I thought."

"Is this going somewhere? If not, can I go back to my cell now?"

"Do you know why I favor you over the rest? Because of where you came from."

"Xenia?"

"I'm not talking about Xenia. I'm talking about Markus Hottle. He created the best weapon ever to walk this universe."

"Yeah, he's so great," you roll your eyes.

"What I don't understand is why he didn't make more of you after you left. I heard about what you did, so I asked to hold a meeting with him but he never showed."

"Yeah, that sounds like Markus."

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea. Quite literally."

Ronan nods twice before grabbing a long metal stick that he favors whenever he tortures someone. You don't blink when he raises the stick and slams it into your abdomen. He throws the stick off to the side and grabs your jaw tightly to make you look at him.

"Where is he?"

"Go to hell," you gasp.

"I have contacts on Xenia who could find him. I bet he'd love to know where you are."

"Go ahead. Call him. Tell him where I am. I've been dying to kill him myself," you glare.

He's bluffing and he knows you know it. If Markus is out there, then contacting Ronan would be the last thing he'd do. Markus is smart and he likes to keep people in his life that will benefit him. Ronan is sloppy and greedy and someone who Markus would never do business with.

Six years with Ronan turns into twelve and eventually, you run out of room on your wall to mark up. Sharing a cell with Yondu makes the time go by faster because despite being slaves with him, he's a really nice person. He's been your best friend, your rock for the entire time you've been here.

Ronan likes to filter through his slaves so they all receive the same treatment, and he's just summoned the people in the cell next to yours. That can only mean you and Yondu are next. He might be from a different planet than humans, but you're the one with the powers. Anytime you can, you try to make them focus on you since you can heal from their efforts to break you.

"Do you ever think we're getting out of here?" you ask Yondu when they return the other prisoners to their cells.

"I don't know. I don't like to think about stuff like that. It gives false hope. Ronan has the entire place on lockdown."

"Do you think people are still looking for you?"

"Unlikely. My parents never cared much for me. They're the ones who solved me to Ronan to pay off debt. I was too young to have mattered to anyone. What about you?"

"Anyone I do know can't rescue me. Humans don't know they're not alone, and the ones that do, don't have the ability to space travel. Humans aren't as technologically advanced as I hoped they'd be. No one's coming for me," you sigh.

"Y/N, you're up," one of the guards says as he approaches your cage.

"What, you scared to take me? Are you some kind of coward?" Yondu argues when the guard grabs you.

The guard looks at Yondu and considers taking him, but before he can let go of you, intervene. There is no way he's taking the fall. If Ronan wants you, then it's you he's going to get."

"Are you scared to hit a girl? Are you afraid I'm going to beat your ass if I get free? I bet Ronan is going to kill you if you bring him instead of me." The guard must follow Ronan's orders or else he's going to face his wrath. The guard shoves your wrists into handcuffs and drags you to the entrance of the cell. You look back at Yondu who looks like he's going to cry. "It's okay. I'll be okay."

When you return, Yondu is sleeping so you do your best not to wake him up. Your entire body is sore from the beatings you took but it's not like you're going to show them how much they're hurting you. You're not sure how much time has passed when Yondu shakes you awake.

"Y/N, wake up," he whispers. Sleep isn't something that comes easily on Ronan's ship, so you're not sure why he's up when he doesn't have to be. "Come with me. We're getting off this ship."

"What?"

"I'll explain it later. Come on, we have to go now."

Yondu doesn't give you time to think about what's happening because he's pulling you out of your bed. With groggy eyes, you follow him out of your cell and down the hall where someone is waiting for you. He didn't look like Kree but the last thing you're going to do is say anything. You trust Yondu with your life, so you know he wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't legit. The stranger leads you and Yondu through a service elevator to a lower level where a group of people is waiting.

There is a window next to the elevator and when you look through it, you see a huge ship. If Ronan doesn't know about this, he will soon.

"You'll need this. Put it on. I found it in storage. It had your name on it."

The stranger hands you the space suit that you had when you first arrived. After putting it on, the stranger leads you and Yondu to one of the loading docks where their ship is hooked to. The metal door shuts behind you so that when the stranger opens the door to his ship, the rest of Ronan's ship isn't affected by space.

Everyone flies from Ronan's ship to the strangers, and as soon as the doors closed, the ship takes off.

"What's going on, Yondu?" you ask and take off your helmet.

"My name is Stakar Ogord, and you've just been rescued by the Ravagers. Compliments of Yondu."

Stakar starts walking towards the main deck of the ship, and you look at Yondu for some answers.

"I told you we're getting out of that hell hole. I met someone who knew of Stakar. We've escaped."

"Yeah into the hands of the Ravagers. I've heard of them. I'm no thief."

Stakar stops and turns to you with narrowed eyes.

"Would you rather I take you back to the Kree?"

"No, she wouldn't," Yondu says for you. "We're grateful for your rescue."

"That's what I thought. I'll give you two a day to get settled before I recruit you to our team."

A lot of different planets around Earth are much more technologically advanced, but you've never seen some of this stuff before.

"Wait, year is it?" you ask.

"1962."

His words stop you in your tracks.

"We were prisoners for twenty years?" you gasp softly.

"Time flies by when you're getting picked and prodded at by Ronan," Yondu sighs.

"Twenty years," you mutter as you take a seat.

Twenty years.

Everyone you knew and loved either is dead or you've been pushed to the back of their minds. No one is coming for you now. Earth doesn't need you anymore, so there's no point in going back to it.

Another twenty years of stealing with the Ravagers go by before Stakar sees potential in you and Yondu to the point where he grants you your own division. You and Yondu can break away from the main clan and steal on your own as long as most of the profits go back to him. This gives you and Yondu some breathing room since you won't have Stakar breathing down your neck all the damn time.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[promenadewithme]

Chapter 2 (The Kiss of Eros)

a/n: here is chapter 2! all feedback is always welcome <3 pairing: Spencer Reid x Rebecca Sanders (original character) warnings: whirlwind of emotions here, be ready. someone gets hurt, blood, guns, fire, feelings so many feelings. word count: about 3k

Series Masterlist

The hot humidity of the subway hits me like a slap on the face. I remove my sweater, leaving me in my white button-up, and tie it around my shoulders. 

“Have you ever taken the LA metro?” he asks beside me.

He’s also wearing a white button down, but his are rolled up at his arms, covered by a gray sweater vest and paired with charcoal pants.

“Nope, you?”

“I thought you were experienced.” he jabs and my face twitches.

“At public transportation, not specifically Los Angeles. Vegan city isn’t exactly my go-to holiday destination.” I answer while switching back to my normal square glasses.

“Where, then?”

“Where what?” I ask, trying to figure out which rail to take.

“Where is your go-to holiday destination?” he turns towards me, hands in his pockets, and I pause.

Is he trying to make small talk?

“I-I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland.” I offer.

He nods, looking at the map.

“Did you know that Scotland's official animal is the unicorn?” he asks.

“Yes, I did know that.” I offer a smile.

“Odd, though, isn’t it? That an official animal isn’t even a real animal?”

“Y-yes, I guess so.” I stutter.

“The first record of unicorn myths actually dates back to Mesopotamia.” he gesticulates while looking at the map “Many people think it originated from Greek mythology, but they just confuse the unicorn with the pegasus. Even though they are completely different, their only common factor being the body of a horse. Unicorns have a single horn on their head, while Pegasuses - or Pegasi - have wings.”

I gawk at him.

He’s actually talking to me. About unicorns. I am so incredibly confused right now. This is probably the most he’s ever said directly to me.

His gaze meets mine and he immediately turns away, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I look back at the map, searching for the rail that takes us to the address Pen sent. 

“We should take rail C.” I say, turning to look at him.

He’s already looking at me. All I get is a nod before he spins on his heel and walks towards the railway.

We wait behind the yellow line in silence until the metal tube arrives. The station filled with a few people after we arrived, but not enough to mean there wouldn’t be seats for us. Good, my feet are starting to hurt from the heels and I chide myself for not packing more comfortable shoes.

As soon as the doors open, I move to sit close to the exit when a large hand closes around my upper arm. 

“No you don’t.” He orders, lifting me before I have the chance to sit. “Do you know how many microbes are on that seat?” 

“I don’t and I really don’t want to know, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Trillions, Sanders. Trillions.”

I grimace and notice his hand still holds my arm. I’m pretty sure this is the first time he has ever touched me. So much for Dr ‘I don’t do handshakes’.

Snatching my arm from his grip, I ask “Well you don’t even shake peoples hands, so I doubt you’ll hold the support bars. Without them, you’ll be falling more than a sailor in the north sea, so what’s your solution?”

He doesn’t answer me, instead he opens his satchel and takes out two wet wipes, holding one out to me. 

“We’ll sanitize our hands when we get there.” he states, grabbing the rod with the wipe as a barrier between it and his hand.

I hate to admit it, but that’s kind of genius. I’ll never tell him, though.

“Fine.” I huff and copy his actions, just in time for the metro to start moving.

He keeps his free hand tight on the strap of his satchel, eyes drifting between me and the floor. He’s nervous. Over the past year I’ve known Spencer, I’ve learned about his germophobia. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for him to be stuck in a metal tube swarming with trillions of microbes. Maybe if I can get his mind off of it…

“Let’s play a game.” I suggest, immediately regretting it.

This man is a genius and you want to play a game with him? Like a little kid? That voice reprimands in my mind.

“A game?” he asks slowly.

“You know what? Never mind, it’s stupid. I don’t know what I was th-” I splutter before he interrupts me in a soft voice.

“What game?”

My mouth opens and closes as I scour my mind for a game worthy of his intelligence. Dear lord, is there even one?

I think of every game possible. Rock, paper, scissors. Never have I ever. I spy. Truth or dare. He looks at me expectantly and I blurt out the first game on my mind “20 questions.”

“20 questions?” he asks.

I’m so dumb. So fucking stupid. I just suggested that Dr Spencer Reid play 20 questions with me.

“How do you play?” He looks interested.

Oh, okay.

 “You’ve never played 20 questions?”

“I um,” he scratches his neck, crimson tingeing his cheeks. “I didn’t have all that many friends growing up.”

“Oh, well… that’s ok. I’ll teach you.” I nod.

When he doesn’t say anything, I start explaining the rules of the game.

“So, basically, person number 1 thinks of something - anything. A person, an object, a band, a place. That person then says ‘I am a country’, for instance. Then person number 2 has 20 yes or no questions to figure out what country that person is. Got it?”

He nods and asks “Can I start?”

“Sure.”

Okay, we’re eager. Good. 

“I am a person.” he states.

“Alright, are you a woman?”

“Yes.” he nods.

“Are you from this century?”

“No, she’s actually from-” he starts, but cuts himself off before mumbling to himself “Yes or no questions. Just yes or no.”

I nod and hide my smile.

“Are you a monarch?” 

“No.”

“A writer?”

“Nope.”

“A scientist?”

“Yes!” he exclaims with a smile.

He has a very nice smile. It’s a rare sight for me. He does smile a lot, but it usually fades when I enter the room.

“Is there a Disney princess based on you?”

“No, not Jane.”

“Did you study dark matter?” 

“Not Freese either.” I can tell that he’s dying to tell me and his excitement is contagious “Come on, Becca. Think about the most obvious answer.”

Becca. He’s never called me that before. I like it.

“Rosalind Franklin?” I try.

“So close, come on. Just one step before her.”

“Marie Curie!” I exclaim.

“Yes!” he laughs. 

“I love Marie! I have a magnet of her on my fridge.” 

“You have a Marie Curie magnet?”

“Yes.” I smile and he just stares.

But this time, it isn’t a bad stare. I wouldn’t mind if he stared at me like this.

“Okay, okay. My turn.” I say.

I already knew what I would pick from the start, so I hint “I am a book.”

“A book?” he tilts his head.

“Is that your first question, doc?” I joke.

“No, no.” he shakes his head and brings his fingers to rest on his chin “Let me think.”

We’re closer to each other than we were before. Close enough for me to see the light stubble beginning to grow on his face and how his lips look slightly chapped.

Is he not drinking enough water? A voice whispers in my mind.

I notice I’m staring at his lips when he asks “Are you a romance book?”

“Yes.” I focus my attention on his eyes and, for the first time, he holds contact with mine.

At least he does for a few seconds, which is enough for me to notice the amber streaks in the midst of his chocolate brown irises.

“Are you from this century?”

“No.”

“Pride and Prejudice.”

I blink at him, mouth agape “How did you do that?”

“You read a lot of romance books.” He shrugs “I thought it could be your current read, but you’re reading a christmas rewrite of groundhog day so definitely not. Statistically, in these situations, we tend to pick something we can see at the moment, have seen recently or a favorite of ours. Considering there aren’t any books around and it’s not your current read, your pick could only have been your favorite.”

“How did you know Pride and Prejudice is my favorite?” I ask, completely shocked that he knows my reading preferences. 

Though, thinking rationally about it, he is a profiler. He’s just doing his job and noticing his surroundings.

“It’s the only book you’ve repeated in the last year. You’ve read it three times. Plus all the times I’ve found you watching the 2005 version with Garcia in her office while going on about something you called the ‘hand flex’ scene.” He looks confused at that last part, but shakes his head before looking expectantly at me.

I realize he’s waiting for me to confirm his answer.

“Yes, you’re right. You won.”

“I never lose.” he simply answers before looking away with a small smile. 

Maybe working with him won’t be so bad after all.

***

Spencer knocks on the last partner’s house, his black Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. We wait a few beats, but there is no reply. Strange. 

“FBI, open up.” Reid bangs against the door.

“Maybe they aren’t home?” I suggest.

“Do you have your gun?” he asks.

I move my hand to hike up my skirt and his gaze follows as I remove my glock gen 5 from the holster strapped to my thigh.

“Do you think we’ll need it?” I question, but hear the answering sound of glass shattering inside the house.

We exchange looks and snap into action. Reid jogs to the left side of the house and I stick to the right, checking the corners and bushes for movement with my gun held in defensive. I dial Pen’s number and leave the ringing phone in my pocket. I reach a window and look inside quickly. Clear. Clear and unlocked.

The smell of benzene reaches my nose before I completely open the window. He’s here. Why did he change his pattern? He just set a fire a couple of hours ago. 

Maybe he thought we wouldn’t expect it. He was right, I certainly wasn’t. Maybe he was afraid he was going to get caught and was eager to finish the job. 

I hear Reid’s voice and follow it to the living room, where the whole family is held hostage. They are each tied to a chair and completely wet with what I assume is the benzene. Four chairs. Two adults, two kids. Their screams of terror are muffled by his makeshift gags. There is a stuffed teddy on the floor next to white flowers and what looks like a broken vase. Their tiny faces are red from screaming and crying. He is going to kill the kids.

I thought I escaped this side of the job when I left CASMIRC. Adults can fight back, adults have flaws and maybe could have done something to deserve what they got, but the kids? They still have the hope and innocence that humanity takes from us once we reach a certain age. They are too young to know what is happening, but what does happen scars them for life. And if it doesn’t, that means I was too late. That means their lifeless faces scar me for life. Haunt me every minute that I am awake and in my nightmares. No, the kids never deserve it.

Spencer’s calm voice brings me back from my thoughts. “I know it was unfair. I know that what they did was wrong, but you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” his voice booms and the woman cries behind her gag “They have to pay for what they have done to me. Put your gun down!”

He slowly lowers the gun to the floor before saying “You want revenge.” Reid looks at me for a millisecond, he’s buying me time “I understand the feeling.”

I take a step closer, still out of sight, and try to come up with a plan. 

Think! That voice yells in my minds

He has a gun and a lighter. The lighter is on. If I shoot, it falls and we all die.

“You have been wronged?” the unsub, Anthony Lewis, asks.

“I have.” he nods. 

When Anthony doesn’t say anything, he continues “I used to be considered the smartest guy at my job. Then, about a year ago, they hired someone new. I’ll tell you,” he laughs humorlessly “everyone thinks she’s so smart.”

“She?” Anthony questions.

He’s talking about me? Why the hell is he talking about me?

“Oh, yes. She. Everybody loves her. She’s so perfect and so smart and so young and so sweet. That’s what they say about her.” He scoffs and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him gesticulate this much. My heart races and constricts in my chest as he continues “But I’ll tell you what I think. I think she’s nothing more than a pretty face, that’s honestly not even that pretty. She’s not smart, she’s a far cry from perfect. I’m better than her in every single way”

I hold in my gasp. I try to tell myself that he’s just distracting the UnSub, that his speech means nothing, but tears still well up in my eyes.

He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, it’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true, …

I repeat it over and over in my head, but it’s no use. It’s no use because it’s what my mind tells me every single moment of every day. 

You’re not good enough, Rebecca. 

You’re not smart enough. You are not pretty enough. You are not brave enough. You! Are! Not! Enough!

“But, you know what? There is something that comforts me, something that helps me keep going. One thought that I play over and over in my head to keep me sane.”

“What is it?” he asks. 

His hand drops and I see that his grip loosened on the lighter. There is no longer a flame. He still has a gun so I have to be smart with this, but I walk in his direction, keeping to the wall.

“That someday, hopefully soon, they will see right through her little facade and realize that I’m the best.”

That’s enough. 

I kick the lighter out of the UnSub’s hand and move to disarm him, but he’s faster. Before I can react, he pulls the trigger. I push his hand down, but I think it still hits my leg. I can’t tell, it doesn’t hurt. 

Where the fuck is my gun?

I grab his gun by the barrel with my left hand and upper-cut his nose with my right. Taking advantage of the distraction his broken nose brought him, I twist the gun right off his hand and point it at him. 

“Anthony Lewis, you are under arrest for the murders of the Phillips family, the Jones family and the Martinez family,” Reid comes from behind the unsub and cuffs him “as well as the attempted murder of the Andersons.”

FBI agents swarm the room and take him away. Hotch and Emily are already taking the family to the ambulance, so I grab my phone from my pocket and see that Pen is still on the line.

“Hey.” I greet.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she exasperates.

“I’ll be fine.” I say, picking up my gun on the floor. What Reid said hurt, but I’ll get over it. Maybe not now, maybe in a few years, maybe after a bottle of wine and a good cry, but I will get over it.

I am a little dizzy, though. Must be all this benzene. Even my tights are wet with it.

“Are you sure? I heard gunshots.” 

Oh, shit. Right. 

I look down and see the red blood oozing down my leg, the bullet lodged somewhere on my upper thigh. Well, fuck. I really liked this skirt.

Adrenaline must still be coursing through my veins because I take a tentative step forward and it only stings a little. I keep limping around the house, trying my best to keep pressure on the wound while walking.

“Yeah, um- Pen? I’ll talk to you later. There are some uh- pressing matters I have to attend to.”

“You got shot, didn’t you?” she gasps.

I sigh. Why does she have to know me so well? 

“Just a little, yeah.” I wince at a painful step.

“There is no such thing as getting a little shot!” she exclaims in my ear and the dizziness gets worse. 

Pain shoots everywhere with every step I take, slowly but surely becoming unbearable. Shit, I think I might pass out.

I reach the front of the house feeling lightheaded and I think my phone is slipping from my hand. I look back at the trail of blood I left behind and just stare as the world spins around me. 

Two hands grip my shoulders and I think Spencer is trying to say something. I push him away, but he doesn’t even move. I’m so mad at him. 

So, so mad.

The last thing I see before the world fades to black are his wide eyes.

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[thesevro]

[cassius bellona] us, and now

[HEAVY LIGHTBRINGER SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT] Cassius Bellona/Male Reader Word count: 3.8K words

A depiction of what it would be like to be Cassius's husband. What it would mean to go through what happens to him as the man who married him. Explicitly MLM. In part, you can imagine that Darrow is the husband in reference here.

Hermes: A spinal implant enabled by the technology of the Greens and Yellows of the Rising, empowering the user with the capacity to move at 2 trillion times the speed of light.

—

YOU GRAB HIM before he can leave, the metal in your spine triggering the muscles in your body fast. You reach for him, his arm in your grasp. He turns as you tug at him. Cassius meets your eyes with a nonplussed smile already coming to his face, always your man of golden smiles though utterly confused. His teeth end up meeting yours as you lean forward. The muscles and bones in your jaw clack together with his. You cannot hide your desperation, your fear. Your mouth is harsh as it touches his. Needy. For a moment he only stands there as if he can sense all that you wish to say to keep him here, with you. But you are loyal to him and will let him be loyal to himself in making this choice. 

You feel the breath he steals from the air, from you as he inhales sharply in surprise. Then his hands clasp your body and bruise your waist as he drags you in close. You tip backward on your heels as his other hand comes to the middle of the muscles in your back and drag you from your center of gravity. You shiver at the feel of the tips of his fingers digging into the nape of your neck. He anchors you on your feet, because without the hold of his hands and the strength of his arms around you you would already be on the floor with him. You are not afraid to cling to him. You know you will have to let him go. 

Your lips part to take a breath but Cassius does not let you. He searches for your mouth in those nanoseconds and catches the open part of your lips. His breathing is yours. Your fingers find his curls, rough now with oil and dust but still you will remember that this is him, that this is the man the universe let return to you after a childhood and ten years of wishing to be a man who could bask in his love. A war had come in between. Your blade has touched his throat before. His hands have flowed through movements made to kill you in the past. But those minutes of hatred, all that emptiness, are nothing for the moments that have been before this, and the full ache of love that you have for him now. 

His bottom lip is insistent. He drives his mouth into yours as if it would let him take more of you in, let your breaths replace the oxygen he needs. His head tilts. Mouth moves over yours. You let yourself be weak. Let yourself indulge in sharing this love. 

This is the only time Cassius has allowed himself to be greedy in asking for your love. With his chest to yours his heartbeat encompasses every other sense. The pounding rhythm of his heart matches all else in this moment—the desperation of your mouth on his, the fingers you dig into his shoulders. 

You allow yourself one last nudge of your bottom lip to his. Every inch of your mouth meets every nanometer of his, raw from the kiss and chapped from the blistering dust outside. For one final breath, you bask in and fall deeply into the scent of him, the raw musk of his perspiring skin, the tones of lavender in his hair and the heady scent of sandalwood in the shirt beneath his armor. You send out a promise to the worlds. Let this just be another time you get to breathe him in. There will be more.  

You pull away from him. Your eyes remain closed, but already you hear his lashes flutter as he opens his eyes. 

“Why are you crying?” he murmurs in a throaty voice. “Is the man I love so disgusted by my kisses?”

Your laughter is pained. Cut short as the fear grips you again. 

The fear you rip away from you like a physical thing. You will savor Cassius as he is in this moment, not as what he could be in the future that follows. Here, now, you are his, and he is yours. 

Your eyes open as his forehead comes to yours. You drink him in. You have no wishes, no words, no protests—only so much love for the man you’ve hidden and held love for all your life. 

With his gaze bearing yours, he makes a promise to you. “I will return to you, my love. My lover. My (Name). Do not be afraid for me, for I am only a man of love for you.” 

Your heartbeat echoes against his chest. You feel a whisper coming through as your words and strengthen your voice. There can only be strength in the truth you will give him. “I love you, Cassius.”

He makes a noise of pain. As if he can sense that there will be too much coming between the next time he and you get to share these words. “And I, you, (Name). I love you.”

Your hands linger, linked together, as he leaves. The look you share shows a promise.

And even with all the years you had full of love for him, all the time in between, all the words shared, the burdens passed between you, the wounds stitched by the hands of the other, the hours spent trading stories and living the parts you failed to wander through together in each other’s lives, the worlds move on, move forward, and shatter his promise. The worlds continue without him.

Even with your eyes closed against the glow of the holo, the image burns across your retinas, and you know that you are more a ghost than he is now. You trigger Hermes and leap backward.

—

LYRIA, an outsider's perspective on how Cassius's husband reacted to his death

“Lyria, twelve spidervenom rounds,” Sevro orders then takes off after (Name). “Volga!”

Volga looks at me. I don’t understand Sevro’s panic. Then the clatter of armor shatters our confusion. Volga bolts from her chair.

“Volga!” Sevro calls again. Something slams into the wall in the adjacent hallway. I rush to the weapons room. Can’t see for the tears. Instinct guides me. All the things Cassius taught me through, helped me learn, maneuver my hands and lead my eyes. 

He can’t be dead. The Lune would never be able to manage. But there he hung, limp and lifeless on our screen. The warmth of him has left the worlds. 

A scream from the hangar grips me. I sprint down the halls, following the noise. Grunts and desperate shouts bounce off the wall of Cassius’s ship. 

“Let me go! I need to get him back!” (Name) screams, metal boots slamming into the floor. “I need to get him back!”

Sevro jerks against his friend as (Name) pulls and strains. The veins in Sevro’s neck pop from his skin. Volga’s eyes are wide with focus, desperation. She understands, as I only just did, what it would mean to let (Name) leave this ship. He’d get himself killed trying to reach the Lune’s moonbreaker, if not mowed down by Lunese soldiers who’d cry with laughter at the chance to have the Marooner’s head. 

He has been a friend to Volga and me from the start. Golden goodness, his heart worse in its purity even compared to Cassius’s. We won’t let him go. I don’t think he knows it yet. For (Name), the logic in his actions clicks perfectly like pieces in a puzzle.

“You need to let me go. Sevro!” His face is wet. Tear tracks slide from (Name)’s cheeks to his chin. “Please! You need to let me get him back. We can’t leave him there!”

Sevro and (Name) lock eyes. (Name) reels away from him, almost shocked by the grim set to his best friend’s expression. He pants with exertion worth fighting against a warlord of the Rising and a battle-hardened Obsidian. He pulls again. Sevro and Volga are lifted clean off their feet, but Sevro hauls him down with a hard grunt. (Name)’s knees buckle. His eyes fall on the floor. Then he turns and meets Volga’s gaze. I hear Volga gasp.

“Volga! Volga, you need to let me go,” he says, screaming again as he begins to recognize that they won’t let him leave. “They killed my husband, Volga, please! Let me get him back!”

Volga breaks open, and whether she knows it or not her grip on him loosens. (Name) launches forward, leaving Volga at the entrance to the hall. Sevro hangs on, yelling at (Name).

“Stop it (Name)!”  he yells. “You’ll get yourself killed up there, you bloodydamn bastard!”

Sevro plants his feet, heels practically slamming into the floor. (Name) strains against him. A broken cry claws through the air, leaving (Name) as he pulls and pulls against Sevro. He drags Sevro forward three meters at a time, practically glitching before my eyes as he activates Hermes again and again. Volga sprints. I move faster than her, for once. Finally at the hall, I leap towards them, momentum carrying me past Volga. 

I drive the syringe into the back of (Name)’s neck. Holding the needle pushing enough poison to knock four griffins unconscious into his bloodstream. He barely even seems to feel it, still swimming against mine and Sevro’s tide as he lurches toward the exit of the Archimedes.

Then his arm goes limp in Sevro’s hold. Sevro clings tighter to him, arms around the front of his torso. (Name)’s eyes flutter. Sevro watches the floor as his best friend slowly slumps into his arms. Then he falls to the floor with (Name)’s body. 

Sevro cradles (Name)’s head, his forehead coming to the back of his neck. He holds the man to his body. They’re so close, in mind and soul, that I know Sevro feels just as much of (Name)’s pain as he feels his own for Cassius’s death. Sevro clears his throat.

“Set coordinates for Sungrave. We need to get Darrow,” he says, taking charge. His eyes are dead. We say nothing of the man who just died in the skies above us. 

I head to the cockpit to pilot Cassius’s ship.

—

There are cracks in you that grow further fissured on the day his ship passes through your scanners. The three in your party are men of silence. You more than the two standing next to you as you await boarding permission. There is nothing to share in words. Only in grief. 

Your body remains in another time, in other moments, with each step you take through the ship. You smell the coffee Cassius likes from the percolator in the sparse kitchen area. The machine has been dead for days. All you can remember are his hands turning the knobs, grinding coffee, guiding you through a technique you cannot for the life of you remember. You brace yourself on the counter as you approach the coffeemaker, nearly driven to your knees at the pull of memory and in knowing that you will never share another morning, another smile, another breath with him. He is but a memory, even if he was everything to you.

His fingerprints remain on the percolator. Your own fingers trace over them, sharing a final touch that will be lost to the eternities ahead because he is dead. 

Darrow and Sevro let you take your time. In reality, you are simply too familiar with yourself. You cannot handle the other body that lies aboard the ship.

The Lune had mangled him. Torn your golden boy to pieces. Hanged him from a rope and let his body sway. You cannot imagine the heavy flop of his corpse as they cut the body from the rope to bring it here. 

You do not want to remember him as that dead body. He was Cassius Bellona for his soul. His body has left the worlds, but the man he was will remain with you. 

For an hour, you sit in his bedroom. You don’t visit the holos saved on the ship. Those recordings are only digital, borderline fakes of the actual memory of being with him. You will only be an outsider watching those moments in the bedroom, looking in through holographic glass as you kiss your husband, write a story for him while he rests with his head on your chest. You will have to bear witness to a life you will never live again because your husband is dead.

There are photos on the wall. Printed versions, not holographic renditions. Slowly, you take your eyes off the floor and bring your gaze to the pictures. A broken sob leaves you. 

He is so young in the picture. The golden boy you became brother and best friend to and wholeheartedly bloom with love for. And so are you. The weight of war and broken planets does not hang in your laughing eyes. In his, you are his planet, his universe. The affection in his bright eyes leaves you breathless, as if he were standing before you now, gazing at you with that same love. Across time, across the worlds, past his death, his love remains. 

You remember asking about this picture. Cassius told you this was one of his favorites. 

“I can’t believe you couldn’t tell then,” he said. “You were much like a brother to me, sure. But I loved you for more than that.” He gesticulated wildly at the photo. “Bloodydamn, imagine that! I was looking at you this way for an entire year!”

You also recall the lovely jest he’d made after to let you slip his hand in your underwear. “My most favorite is the one where I have you reaching climax as I ride you.”

Your body leads where your mind cannot. You come close to the pictures, brushing your fingers over the image of your beautiful husband in his youth. It comes to you as instinct, not as a memory. Your fingers move from his chin to his cheek. If he were here now, he would tilt his head into your palm as you reached to cradle his cheek. And for him, that too would be instinct. 

“We were supposed to grow old together,” you murmur to the boys in the picture. “We’re only thirty-four, Cassius.” The sob in your chest punches through your throat. Warmth floods down your cheeks as you begin to cry. “I wanted to have you until a hundred. You promised me a hundred and forty three. Impossible bastard.

“Gods, you promised.” Your knees give out and you hit the ground, hard. And in his bedroom, where he and you once shared love with one another as married men, you unleash your grief. Your sobs leave you as screams.

—

Your best friend sits with his arms propped on his knees at the door to the room Cassius’s body is held in. He leans on the wall, eyes opening as your footsteps fill the room. There is more weight to him now, more even than when he received news of Pax’s kidnapping or Virginia’s capture. You cannot imagine his burden, what the weight of all of his combined grief would feel like. He stands as you enter. 

Darrow doesn’t move towards you. He knows that to touch you would invite hell upon himself. But he is wrong. You reach for him, and he must see something on your face, something more than the grief, something that only he and you share. He moves to you and grips you in a hard embrace. And the tears leave you to stain the home of your lone beloved with your pain once again.

“I—” There is no sense to you. Could there ever even be now, when your husband is gone? “I shouldn’t have let him go. I was right there. I let him go. I let him leave. It's all my fault.”

Darrow stops you before you can continue to blame yourself. He holds you tight against him. 

“(Name),” your best friend, your brother in everything but blood; ArchImperator of the Republic you have given your life to; the man whose son you are third-in-line as godfather to speaks, more solemn than you have ever seen him, “This is not your fault.” 

You hope he can promise you that.

—

He lies there on the cold metal. His eyes are closed. And he is dead. Reds like Lyria or your regular Gray would not be able to smell it. But you know Cassius’s smell, and you know what rot tastes like in your nostrils. It is faint. But it comes from him. You swallow the vomit that races up your throat.

“I’ll leave you two be,” Darrow murmurs from behind you, speaking as if Cassius is still alive. He squeezes your hip, hand lingering. You do not ask him to stay. And he understands there are conversations only you and Cassius should share. 

Even when he has left, you do not break. Seeing Cassius again, even in death, has brought you clarity, though you cannot comprehend it. 

You approach him. Part of you expects him to bolt upright on the table and greet you with a smile. You lurch forward, expectant. But his lips are blue now. Being sent straight into the sun to burn would hurt so much less than this. 

“Cassius,” you murmur. Your voice reaches only your ears. A dead body does not hear.

The feel of him is the same, just a little bit heavier as you grip his hand. He is cold. Limp. Still his fingers are as rough as you remember, hardened by years of wielding the blade he was born to be and manipulate. But to you, these hands held nothing but all the love you’ve felt in your life as his husband.

“You wouldn’t let me apologize, wouldn’t you?” If you were here. “So… so I won’t. In fact, this choice you made let you be loyal to who you are. Isn’t that it, Cassius? You’ve always been true to yourself. We called you a turncloak, two-faced, but everything you did, everything you said, was always honest. You’ve never lied to us. I’ll always be grateful for that.” When he helped kill Octavia, the Sovereign he swore his life to, he did it not because of Darrow’s influence or Virginia’s, but because he felt that it was right—that he would not only be avenging those in his family of Bellona who had been murdered by that Sovereign, but that he would be owning up to becoming a part of what is right. To most, he is the Betrayer. He destroyed figureheads of the Society and the Rising and knocked both off their feet. Though what most cannot comprehend is that Cassius was simply following what he thought was right. He believed Octavia could provide stability to the people, so he killed Ares. She did not, and so he killed her. All Cassius has ever done, he did in the name of honor. Through the grief in your eyes, you look at him with utter pride. 

“My love. I wish you didn’t have to leave. You haven’t even met Pax or Sevro’s daughters yet.” You brush a thumb over the angular apple of his cheek. He is cold beneath your fingers. “We haven’t had our own children. There are so many things we weren’t able to do. We had so much ahead of us, and I can’t help but think that you abandoned me for the rest of it.”

Cassius lived a life of honor. Though he could not honor you and your dreams, the life you could see for the two of you as husbands, he died in the name of being true to what is right. That is why he spoke with Lysander. That is why he died for it. 

In life and in death, you could not love him more. 

“What did you say to him before you died?” you murmur, more to yourself. Maybe part of you has begun to accept that he is dead, and that none of your questions will be answered until you meet him again, somewhere else, at some other time. “I wonder. What did he tell you? What made Lysander feel that hanging the man who raised him for half his life would be right?

“Can I kill him, Cassius?” Would that avenge Cassius? Would it make losing your husband right? If it would, and if you knew for concrete fact it would, you’d put your blade in Lysander in a heartbeat. “He killed you. His brother. My husband. Would he even be able to work with us? Would he be able to see reason, as you did?

“Gods, I hate you. You gave your life to honor. I wish you could have given it to me.” You look away from him for the first time. “I imagined a quieter death for us, Cassius. Our children and Sevro’s and Victra’s and Darrow’s and Virginia’s would stand before Uncle Cassius’s bedside someplace in the woods on Mars, crying because they know that the best man they’ll ever know needs to go. Darrow would cry the hardest and I would have to be the one to pull him away from you. Then I and our children would carry you to our ship and send you to the sun in your last act of honor. Somehow, I would follow soon after.” You wish you could have lived the fullness of that life. Of being a father alongside Cassius and an uncle to the children of your best friends. You wish you could cherish mornings finally off a ship, finally sharing his favorite coffee with him amongst tall trees with grass between your toes, not the metal floor of a warship. To hear his jokes come sincerely as part of this scenery of peace, not with the tense edge of a man afraid of the death that would come for him aboard a ship heading to war or in a cell or on the field amongst soldiers desperate for a kill. You wonder what it would be like to laugh with him in peace, without his jests being a balm to your fear of losing one another in the war.

“I’ve never known peace with you, Cassius.” You nearly break all over again at the thought. But there is gratitude to be found in the life you had with him, a life rife with war yet made full by him. “And yet I’ve known you afraid, hateful, desperate, joyful, happy, content, peaceful. Hah. Honorable." You let yourself laugh for one last time with him. “I’ve known every side of you in war. Though we were never married in a time of peace, I still got to love every part of you.

“Thank you for that.” You press a kiss to his lips. To his cheek. To both his closed eyes. Then to his forehead, where the crest of everything that made him your beautiful husband used to reside. You kiss the golden band on his finger, the one thing that connected you to him as he died. It is your last act of love before you honor him with a Sundeath on your return to Mars. There will be no grave for you to visit. But a light to look up to, until the end of your own days. “I love you, Cassius.”

Fin.

Comment to mourn with me bro AKAKJAKJA I've been mourning since August... Thoughts and prayers for Cassius as well as your own thoughts on how I wrote this are very important to me les go bro 💌 Been rereading Light Bringer to pregame for Red God. Might we see Darrow ask Lysander about Cassius's last words while they fight yada yada? I even hashed out an entire playlist for that scene so I can play all these sad songs while he dies as such listen to "Skyfall" by Adele or the orchestral cover of "Salvatore" by Lana del Ray when you read that scene. This series has been with me since I was 10. I'm shittin' tears bro now your boy is in uni... Ronan out