#i just want to say it took me EXPLORING THREE QUARTERS OF THE MAP BEFORE I FOUND THAT FUCKING KOROK GUY AGAIN

[svtskneecaps]

so i got breath of the wild for christmas and i've been getting delightfully sidetracked hence why this blog has been quiet for at least a week it's bc i went to beat the bird but got distracted and explored half of the map and then got distracted from that and went to beat the elephant but then the lynel stealth introductory cutscene dropped me in such a place that it immediately aggro'd the lynel and i got spiteful and decided i was gonna kill it but i wasn't strong enough 😔 so i explored another quarter of the map trying to find shrines and stumbled across two dragons and three memories and also explored the forgotten temple bc temples are cool (even if i totally save-scummed to kill the guardians stfu) and then i went back and beat the lynel and then i beat the elephant and then i got sidetracked AGAIN because i wanted to finish some sidequests and then i went and fucked around in faron woods and then i went to find some memories which ended up with me crawling around outside the castle bc i'm piss-terrified of guardians and also shit at the parry timing and then i went to pick a fight with like three hinoxes and shit myself when i ran into a guardian with legs on the mountain and then i returned to the bird but got distracted by the snowquill armor and went to the desert to get warm saff-somethin to upgrade it and then got distracted by the leviathan bc i ran all the way over there on foot bc fuck sand seals and i wanted to do the sidequest and also ooo big bones but then on the way over i got sidetracked by killing a molduga (i got his ass) and i also found a fairy fountain and almost dropped the whole quest in pursuit of getting another 9000 rupees but managed to get myself back on track and went to the volcano to get stuff to upgrade the snowquill set but then i was like "well i should do some of the main quest while i'm crawling around these hot rocks" bc the fire effect stresses me out bc it looks like malice and is also distracting on my eyes (also fuck the blood moons i cleared out every monster in the joint looking for yunobo and then it fucking revived them right as i figured out how to use the cannons and ALL THEIR PARTS BURNED IN THE LAVA SO IT WASN'T EVEN WORTH IT) so i did some main quest stuff yknow just to get it set up but then the boss goron was like "hey go tell yunobo i'm not gonna make it up there today" and i was like i can't just leave the poor kid waiting up there all day (i'm very fond of this silly goron lad) so i ran all the way up there and then the dialogue was like "hey so i need to board that lizard" and the lad seemed eager to assist so i was like "well obviously i gotta do it now" so i went through all that and now WHOOPS I'M STANDING IN THE LIZARD AND IT'S DEFINITELY NOT THE BIRD so. revali's just gonna have to take a chill pill uhhhhh he'll be fine

[broodygaming]

thinkin about Subnautica and the first time I played it... hahaha, I went in almost completely blind (I'd watched a tiny bit of a YTer play it and loads of ppl were saying, if you like the look of this and wanna play it don't spoil yourself, just go do it rn! so I did, lol).

I LOVE the ocean, first off. I don't think I'd ever be capable of diving? But I love the idea of it and it does not scare me in the slightest. I had ZERO idea the game is considered scary by most people. Absolutely NO idea haha. Even when I saw my first Leviathan/Reaper, I was just kinda like, oh yeah of course there's big predators, better steer clear! Nbd, if I die the consequences aren't too bad so eh. Like they definitely jump scared me a few times, but nothing crazy.

But really what sticks out to me in hindsight... this is SO stupid... it took me forEVER to figure out that I needed to scan stuff to get blueprints.

i fucking SWAM ALL THE WAY TO THE FIRST ISLAND. Or the first island I went to, the north/northwest one. I didn't even question it. I was like, oh yeah it's an exploration they want you take your time. I thought I was being a jerk, skipping all the way to the first big new thing "so quickly". About three quarters of the way back to the pod I was like "Okay, I feel like I've progressed more story, let's check in on that YTer and see what they're doing" to see him riding around with the seaglider!! I was like WTF!!!!

My mistake was SO dumb it was hard to even find like, an explanation of what I was doing wrong. Like, everything I googled said how to find the scannable items, not that you even HAD to scan them or with WHAT. Like telling someone how to make sauce and they don't know how to turn on the stovetop. SO SO silly.

Anyways. What a game.

ALSO. wait sorry this is so long

I NEVER FOUND A SECOND BEACON TO SCAN.

Let me run that by you again. I played the ENTIRE game without beacons. I could probably actually navigate almost the entire map without thinking much irl at this point. I just had to like... use "land" marks and be patient. I had to know where I was at on the map (which I finally started looking up to be able to find the paths to the lower chambers way later in the game) (but before then I just used the Aurora, the cloud glitches around the island and my brain) and triangulate my fucking position like a sailor and be like, okay if I'm here and wanna go here I gotta head in a SWS direction" hahaha.

Anyways. Wonderful game. One of the few games I sincerely wish I could erase my memory of and play blind again. I'm usually not the type to wish that, I'm love replaying stuff. But this was so so special on that first run.

[spacecadetspe]

A snippet from last year...

Jul. 22, 2023

I called Vassilios before I took my ire out on anyone, and I'm glad I did.  The infirmary has taken on a new batch of healers, and they are training on various dreamers.  I was one of the guinea-pigs.  I was told that the dreaming itself went according to plan, but I had unprocessed emotions that rose up and demanded to be processed before anyone could act.  In the climax of my anxiety, I injured myself and jerked awake.  Nobody's fault.

I spent the next day and a half resting and exploring the layout of the grounds.  I told Fortitude that I could teleport just about anywhere in the Dream World, but if asked I likely couldn't find any particular location on a map.

Night before last, I returned from my rounds to face the east wing, where the kitchen and the master quarters are.  Dimitrios had created perhaps the most beautiful pastries I had ever seen, in colors I thought might have emerged from a glassblower's shop rather than a patisserie.  

I felt dirty, wet, and generally out of place for such a gathering, but I accepted a champagne flute and paused to chit-chat with the oneiroi.  I'm not sure if my hesitation to socialize stemmed from my recent issues with bereavement and insecurity... or if I was just feeling underdressed and feeling gross from working.

Regardless, I got to spend a little time looking around, getting my bearings a bit at a time.  The kitchen is almost directly below my quarters, and it's twice as large, I think.  Everything is so much bigger than I imagined it to be, including Dimitrios' pastries!  Each one could fill both hands; the size of a massive hamburger, and filled with what I think was a Swiss creme.

Unfortunately, there were few updates for me.  Vassilios brought me a petition from the prophetic faction to allow Orpheus more unlimited access to the Dream World.  Now that things have calmed down, I stamped the petition with my signet, with a few conditions that I think won't cause too much of a fuss.  The other document was a progress report on Hermes, who seems to be doing pretty well, all things considered.

But it couldn't last.  I went back to the infirmary, and perhaps that was a bad idea.  The dreamlings just don't know how to finish out invasive dreams like the ones I continue having, so I keep waking up early and in pain. 

 Last night, I dreamed W was dying.  I cradled his little-boy body as his breathing slowed, and I was told that it would only be a few minutes.  I rocked him helplessly, trying to keep from creating rug burn on any of his exposed skin.  I know what it was; just a growing compilation of worry for my son and the grief that continues to pile up in my psyche.

I'm not worried that my son will die; I should hope that would be pretty clear.  But if these dreams continue to get worse... I'm pretty sure I won't want to go back to sleep.  I'm not sure what to do at this point.  Fortitude says I can call on anyone I like; Echidna or any of the other three-or-so thousand nightmare siblings.  I miss Phobetor, but I don't want to pressure him into being somewhere he doesn't want to be, or make him feel trapped... all of which I suspect would just end with me getting yelled at again.

Why am I so scared of this?  A former version of me would say it's because I care about him, and I don't want him to be mad at me, but I think that might qualify as a "red flag."  If I'm really that scared of what someone's going to say, then does that mean I should really put trust in that person?

At this point, I'm kind of numb.  I got up at dawn today, like I haven't in awhile, and went to the farmer's market to try and make the best of a bad night.  I came home a little more than an hour later and got back into bed, but I couldn't sleep.  I'm not sure if my chakras are still broken, or I still need to "cry it out" or whatever, but... being under that heavy gray comforter was somehow just what I needed to get through the day.

I'll take Fortitude's advice and reach out to Ikelos, who I have a contract with.  Perhaps he'll be able to help... or maybe he'll have some insight I haven't heard yet.  Either way, I'm going to try to go back to Yiorgos for another massage.  I haven't slept that well in a long time, and I need to make it a regular thing.

[thewaytoaclonesheart]

Flames of Love and Lust ✨

Rated: E - explicit

Warnings: Fluff, a lot of FLUFF, smut, unprotected (for f**** sake, wrap it up!)

Summary: “What I mean to ask is. Well, would you stay tonight? Share the night with me?”

And so flames of lust, desire and love had ignited deep within both hearts and soul within them both. Along with it, something primal burned within those flames. A need stronger than they had known before.

- Cody and Obi-wan finally share the night together, though not as innocently as that might imply.

_______________________________________________

Their first kiss had happened so suddenly, feelings is love as if a burning flame between them, slowly growing stronger.

I’d had taken them the remainder of the night talking, getting an idea of where their feelings lay, what they meant. To ensure that neither of them felt ‘unbalanced’, as Obi-wan would describe it. Neither of them could afford their feelings rising to more importance than the mission, or the vows they had made. Cody to his brothers, his vode, and Obi-wan to himself and those he held closest. Anakin had once mentioned how they needed to survive this war with their souls intact, and so, Obi-wan had found a missing piece of his soul in Cody, and vowed to protect and care for it with outmost care.

He understood reality, understood that in war there was no certainties of survival, that one of them might parish, leaving the others souls shattered and in darkness, left as nothing more than dying embers that once burned brighter than the suns of Tatooine.

It had been another long mission, another long mission, that had lead them to this point. A meeting in the General's quarters on the ship, Cody drinking caf and Obi-wan his beloved tea, discussing the mission report, had evolved.

A sweet and genuine smile had found its way upon Obi-wan face, as Cody had accidentally found his hand, trying to return a datapad to the desk. It had taken only that smile, a brief touch of warmed hands, to ever so steadily ignite the embers, enabling them to grown into lust and desire filled flames.

The touch of a hand, had simply added the fuel, enabling a fire to start. The spark to ignite it?

“Cody, could you.. would you...” the hesitancy had surprised Cody. Obi-wan was usually confident in his words, but seemed as nervous as a shiny before his first real battle at the current moment.

“Cyare?” Cody didn’t need to say more than his name for a reaction. So it intrigued him greatly to see Obi-wan sigh, only to gather his confidence to ask him again.

“What I mean to ask is. Well, would you stay tonight? Share the night with me?”

And so flames of lust, desire and love had ignited deep within both hearts and soul within them both. Along with it, something primal burned within those flames. A need stronger than they had known before.

“Elek, Cyare.” A breathy sigh, a voice touched by desire, had been the only answer Cody had been capable of. Yes, he wanted to stay the night. Wanted to spend his night embracing his love, and clearly more. But how much would Obi-wan want? Was this a request for simple sleep in the embrace of a loved one, or would this be more primal in nature?

The answer came, when Cody, taking Obi-wan’s hand, guided him to the generals cot off to the side. For upon sitting down, Obi-wan had thrown of his robe and outer tunic, along with his obi and belt. His intentions made clear by pulling Cody back to him.

Their lips met in a kiss, and only moments later, their tongues met and danced the same dance they had done so many times before.

Cody’s hands quickly found their way into Obi-was’s hair and tugged, eliciting a moan from the other man.

“You.. are.. wearing too... much.. armor!” Obi-wan had spoken, words broken by moans, reacting to the hands tugging and massaging his hair. He wanted more, he wanted to see Cody in all his naked glory.. wanted the man so much it felt as if he was burning. It was no surprise to him, that Cody’s reaction had been to scoff and chuckle at his eagerness. He had done so before, on the occasions where kisses had evolved into make-out sessions on a cot, in a tent, or wherever else they had found privacy and time enough to enjoy it. This time, Obi-wan wanted more. So much more.

When Cody just kept kissing him, he took matters into his own hands. Opening seals on armor, making a straight line for the other mans codpiece. When his hand found its target, Cody had reacted. A moan, followed by intensive determination to shed his armor as fast as humanly possible.

They kissed in earnest until the chestpiece had to come off, and with it, Cody had stood in nothing but his bodyglove, his blacks, with a large tent bulging out his pants, clearly standing to attention. A glance downwards on himself, made it clear for Obi-wan, that both men wanted this, wanted to finally explore everything together.

Cody guided Obi-wan to lay down on the cot, only to quickly remove the mans boots and pants, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, clearly straining due to his sexual desire. Cody found, that he suddenly wanted to taste all of him, of his Cyare, and never stop doing so.

Cody had never been shy about his body. After all, when millions looked the same, or nearly the same, it didn’t truly matter. But for Obi-wan? He wanted to make a show. And so, his body glove came off slowly, revealing more and more skin, flushed and showing signs of his interest. But as he reached to free his legs, he simply pulled them off quickly, only to pull down his own underwear with it, his cock standing at full attention, ready to serve. Cody knew, that he and his brothers were well-endowed.

He himself was, by no means, a virgin, but he hadn’t expected the look on Obi-wan’a face. A look of pure lust and carnal desire, a look that screamed for more, in a way Cody had never seen before. He liked it, a lot.

He liked taking Obi-wan’s underwear off even more. Especially when the redheads cock had sprung free from its containment, only to twitch when smacking down on Obi-wan’s stomach.

It took mere seconds to have Obi-wan on his back, and Cody atop him on the cot. Still kissing, tongues dancing and small moans on their breaths, as their lengths met and bumped, driving both men further into the flames of desire and lust quickly growing between them.

“Cody, please!” Exclaimed Obi-wan, wanting, needing, more attention. It had been all it took, as Cody’s mouth starting mapping out all the crevices and pale lines on Obi-wans throat, slowly moving further down. He came to pause when he reached the right nipple, only to smirk, and then lick around the nipple, kissing and sucking it, followed by his left hand kneading and pinching the left.

By the force his Cyare was beautiful!

‘Cyare, mesh’la’ had been the only words Cody found himself capable of in the moment.

And so Cody continued his path, down to the other mans hips and thighs, kissing every scar, every freckle, mole, any mark he came across, only to once again pause. And as he looked into Obi-wan’s eyes, he took his cock in hand, slowly licking a stripe from base to head, eliciting a loud and interested moan from beneath him. It had taken him no longer than a second to put the head in his mouth, sucking while licking all he could reach.

Cody wasn’t sure who was moaning more, himself from the exquisite taste of the cock in his mouth, or the owner of the cock in question. But it was clear, that his own moms affected the other man, as the vibrations from his throat turned on Obi-wan even more.

Cody stopped when a hand suddenly tugged on his short cropped hair, only to pull him off and up into a searing kiss. And suddenly his world flipped, as he found himself beneath his Cyare, being kissed like never before, moaning brokenly, as a warm hand found his cock, stroking it faster and faster.

Then it stopped, and Cody only had seconds to wonder why, when Obi-wan sat on Cody’s thighs, taking both of their cocks in hand, and stroking them together, using the wetness left from Cody’s mouth on his own cock to smooth the glide. Moans filled the air around them, as they became harder and worked towards their shared goal. Or at least, that’s what Cody thought. Until Obi-wan stretched out his hand, seeming to concentrate for a second, only for a bottle of lube to fly into his hand.

“I want you Cody, I want all of you” and damm if those words hadn’t made a downright needy sound coming from Cody.

“Cyare, mesh’la, have you done this before?” Asked Cody, hoping that his lover had indeed done this before.

“Yes, a long time ago...” Obi-wan had answered hesitantly, afraid that Cody would refuse or stop altogether. He needn’t had worried.

“Lie down on your front, cyare, it’ll make it easier.” Cody had never loved this man more. To be so open, so trusting of him, made everything so much more intense, as if it wasn’t already the most important sexual encounter of his life.

Cody opened the bottle of lube, squirting out a large amount on his fingers, letting some drip down on the other mans ass. The other mans very, very nice ass. He suddenly found a want to kiss and nipple on the two glorious globes in front of him.

Later. That would be later. Right now, he just wanted to get his cock into the heat of the other man, as soon as he was ready for it.

Cody carefully probed an touched him, lubing him up before slowly pressing a finger inside of the other man. Twin moans made their way into the room. Obi-wan from the pleasure of Cody’s finger inside of him, even the stretch was turning him on ridiculously fast. Cody’s own moan came from the feeling of the tight, smooth and warm heat he now felt surrounding his finger. Damm, he really wanted to get his cock in there, now.

Another finger joined the first, upon Obi-wan pushing back against it, only to begin begging for more.

“Cody! More!... Please!”

Never had Cody heard better words. And so, three fingers in, his cock harder than ever before, he barely had any patience left, when Obi-wan had finally told him to do it. Sweetly begged for Cody’s cock inside of him, wanting it inside, wanted them to join in the most primal of ways. Cody had never been good at ignoring orders.

Moans, loud and clear, was let into the room, as Cody slowly pushed the head of his cock into Obi-wants ass. He kept pushing, pulling almost completely out, only to push in again and again, working his large cock further in with every thrust. And as he bottomed out, he leant over the back of his Cyare, kissing his neck, his back and anywhere he could reach, waiting for the consent to continue.

Consent came quickly.

Flames burning brighter than ever, as their moans escalated.

“Cody, I.. harder, harder, please!” And Cody thrust harder, rocking the cot with them now. Sweat rolling down his skin, breaths broken by constant moans. And as he kept thrusting, Obi-wan’s arms gave out, forcing him to push his ass up, and the pleasure from the new position driving him quickly towards a massive orgasm.

“Cyare.. I’m... close...” moaned Cody, feeling the tightening inside of him, his cock becoming harder than ever before, his balls growing taught.

“Where..?” A firm hand found it’s way beneath Obi-wan, grasping his cock and moving up and down, giving him even more pleasure than was already cursing through him.

“Inside Cody! Come inside me!” He was so close, so damm close, just a little more..!

Ultimately, it had been Obi-wan’s words that had pushed Cody over the edge. He thrust into his cyare one last time, bottoming out completely, and then came, filling the other ma up. That had been what had sent Obi-wan over the edge, and as bright lights exploded behind his eyes, lighting his entire body on fire, he came across the hand on his cock, his seed shooting both down in the cot, but also hitting his own chest and stomach.

Cody barely managed to pull out, before falling of to the side, trying to catch his breath. Obi-wan had collapsed onto his stomach, and just as Cody, seemed to be trying to catch a breath.

It had been Cody that left the cot, only to return to a cocked eyebrow with a damp cloth. His caring and loving touch, cleaning the remnants of their coupling, brought another genuine smile to Obi-wan’s lips.

Only after they had both been satisfactorily cleaned up, had Cody laid down, and taken his man into his arms, embracing him from behind, placing small kisses on the other mans shoulder. No words had been necessary, their love showing clearly, as their legs intertwined, and hands held on, as small kisses was given in comfort, they had both sealed the living bond between them. Yet, Cody had to speak, to say the words before, while he had the chance. Before...

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Cyare.”

The words briefly shocked Obi-wan, only briefly. And where he once had believed that his path would be paved with infinite sadness, there now was a blinding hope that that, might not be the case any longer. Maybe... maybe there could be a happy ending for him.

”Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Kote”

And as the Galaxy moved on outside their little bubble of happiness, basking in the embers left behind by the flames of their union, they both vowed to survive, this time, for each other, for their love, for the survival of the flames between them.

And Cody found himself wondering, if he too would one day speak the vows with his Cyare, as others had with theirs.

_______________________________________________

- May The Force Be With You ✨

[usedslimedemo]

Dragon

(ctto of this photo)

One night, I was high above the lighthouse, watching guard for any passing boats. The shores were often lonely, solely filled with the cries of the seagull colony. The ships rarely came around too — from where I stood, the last ferry, carrying who knows what, was just a tiny speck in my sight. I received no visitors from land either — the cape where the foundations of this watchtower was built was a long distance from civilization. It couldn’t be found on any traditional map, and the explorers that may have discovered this place found no value in recording it.

I found the solitude comforting yet hurting — I had no one, except the calls of the flying gulls. And they would perch for only a little while before soaring toward the vast ocean. The land gave me nourishment and provided me with my needs, so I had no cause to return to society.

As I made a few rounds of my routine, I heard a thunderous roar coming from the sea. Such a bellowing noise could not have come from any typical fish or aquatic creature. Soon, the sky flashed with a great bang that immediately followed. The heavens darkened, then the rains fell. I’ve experienced great typhoons one too many times, but this storm was unlike anything I’ve felt before.

I heard it again. The cry of the creature overpowered the crashing of the waves and the cracking of thunder. After that, I saw the waters rise and from the brine came a beast of great stature. I had never seen such an animal of this size. It had two antennas on its head with a tiny horn set between them. It possessed a figure thicker than that of the blue whale. It swam the oceans with a pair of arms and legs, a huge tail complementing them.

The dragon roared to the firmament above, spreading its tiny wings before soaring above the waters. Such a cry was so powerful, it may have been heard as far as the island closest to me. In my awe I stood frozen, terrified at the new sight that had risen from the oceans below.

The beast flew off into the stormy seas before disappearing into the fog. Before I could get a chance to retreat into my quarters, it returned, carrying a metallic chunk on its three claws. It roosted on the beach, gently setting down what appeared to be a wrecked ship, before hovering away into the horizon, never to be seen again.

I wondered how such a mighty creature had stayed hidden for so long. For most of my life, I only imagined such beasts in mythical tales or books. Yet they were real, and I had seen one in the flesh.

Once the sun had risen the following morning I woke up early, rushing down the cape and to the beach where the dragon had landed. Indeed it had lifted a large, damaged vessel to shore with the lightest of its strength. Then out of the huge gaping hole in the hull came the captain and his men, stumbling before passing out on the sand. I took them in and provided food and medical care.

As the crew regained their conscience, the captain recounted how they got wrecked at sea.

“We were on course for Malta, but alas, the heavens had not been kind to us. The waves dragged us toward the rocks and destroyed our ship. We got knocked unconscious and the next thing we know is waking up on the beach before fainting again.”

I wanted to tell them of the creature that rescued them in their darkest hour, but as I was about to say the first word from my mouth, I hesitated. I was afraid that if I told them the truth, the monster would come and devour me. Instead, I shut up and only gave them a nod.

“The gods above must have been merciful to us, and allowed us to live. A miracle has been done to us today.” The captain concluded. I nodded along, knowing that their guardian was a beast that rose from the oceans below.

While they rested in my private quarters for their superiors to pick them up, I returned to the top of the lighthouse. I looked out to the clear horizon, still in awe over the terrifying yet benevolent creature that saved those men from their demise.

As I turned away, I heard the roar of the dragon again. A reassurance that it will rise again when trouble at sea arises.

[gentlemen-of-lies]

Gentlemen of Lies, chapter 2

(Carvour)ting around London with a British bastard and some classified files.

(Next chapter) (Chapter 1)

————

Curt stayed up until late, studying the files he’d been given. He’d luckily escaped another power cut, and his bedside lamp stayed firmly on, flickering in desperation for a new bulb.

There were only four suspects to memorise, three men and a woman. There was little evidence against them; in fact the most damning evidence was against one of the men- Andrew Hayes- who spoke three languages: English, German and Russian. Two of those languages were very much unfavourable in this social climate, although very useful for being a spy of course.

By midnight, Curt was starting to fall asleep. He knew he had to study the files but God... they were so boring.

He soon decided he’d studied them enough; even if he didn’t know every piece of information, too late a night would do him no favours in the morning.

His watch beeped at five am the following day, and for once he didn’t sleep through it. ‘Okay, Mega,’ he thought to himself. ‘Time to get your act together. Show that Carvour bastard he’s not the only one who can do his job.’ Curt sat up in bed, the cogs in his head turning as he worked out a brief schedule. He had to get dressed first of all; whether Owen really was going to lend him some clothes, he didn’t know. But at the moment, he still only had his three day old outfit, which was hanging over the back of the chair, in an attempt at getting aired, despite the air in the room being as damp as the outside weather.

He needed a shower, that was essential. Just some running water to get himself clean and shave off the itchy stubble on his chin... he sighed. Was he really going to have to ask that woman down the hall? He supposed it was worth a shot. If worst came to worse, he’d just have to ask Bill for a solution, although the less he interacted with him the better.

He got himself dressed, shaking his clothes to try and rid them of creases. His hair was patted down and he chewed around three mints at once, crunching them into dust. He looked at himself in the cracked mirror.

‘Not bad, Mega.’ Hopefully in the short walk from his room to the woman’s he’d magically gain the skill of flirting, and win her over into letting him use her bathroom.

Amazingly, he did convince her, ten minutes after leaving his room. But only because his flirting was so desperate and pathetic sounding that she had no choice but to take pity.

“It’s surely a mark of how needy you are that I’m even letting a strange man into my room,” the woman said.

“Cut me some slack,” replied Curt, making a beeline for her bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “All I’ve heard since I’ve been here are remarks of how much of a mess I am,” he continued through the locked, wooden door. “Maybe if your country had better facilities.”

“Maybe if your country didn’t produce such weak men.”

“Huh. Feisty. I like that in a woman.” The woman didn’t reply, but Curt was hardly that invested in the conversation anyway. What mattered right now was finally- he had a shower. And holy, did it feel fantastic! If it was up to him, he’d spend all day in there. But he didn’t have time. It was edging on six now, and while it was still a good four hours until he had to meet Owen, he still had plenty to do. Besides, there was certainly no harm in getting there early, before Owen. In fact, he decided he was going to do just that. Make Owen the one running late. Who was incompetent now?

Curt accidentally nicked his chin a few times while shaving, but he brushed the droplets of blood away with his fingers and splashed his face with the rusty water from the tap. By the time he reopened the bathroom door, he was feeling like a new man.

The woman was still there, writing at her own table, which looked much less rotten that Curt’s.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom, Mrs...?”

“Miss. Miss Dorothy Lowe.”

“Well, Miss Lowe. I appreciate the hospitality.” Dorothy didn’t bother to respond, so Curt- as awkwardly as always whenever he had to try and act smooth around a woman- showed himself out. It was quarter to seven. All he had to do was grab the files and find the station. How hard could that be?

————

“It’s not far from here,” Owen had said. “Here’s a map,” Owen had said. The map was bullshit, it was in black and white and Curt could barely read it. The streets were as disorientating as always, and Curt was almost knocked down by a bus trying to cross the street at the same time as studying the stupid map.

He gave up, and decided to ask passers by.

“Go all the way up the street, turn left, right again and it’ll be there,” said the first person he came across, a man wearing a trench coat and sporting the biggest moustache Curt had ever seen.

“Thanks.” Curt followed the instructions given, but it soon became clear that moustache man had no clue what he was on about. And Curt had to ask two more people before he finally spotted the red and blue circle of the underground.

9:30. Had he really been wandering around London for an hour and a half? An hour if he discounted the sandwich he’d picked up from a local café, which he did. And either way, he was still early.

Beat that, Owen.

At ten o’clock on the dot, Owen showed up, once again wearing his brown cap pulled over his eyes. Typical, he wasn’t even late.

“Good morning, Mega,” he greeted. “I see you’ve shaved at least.”

“Shaved, showered and ready to go.” Was that line as bad as it had sounded? Owen ignored it altogether.

“I hope you didn’t arrive too early. Don’t want you hanging around looking suspicious.”

“Uh... no. No I arrived five minutes ago,” Curt lied. He was beginning to think that Owen could see right through him, and the feeling was unsettling to say the least. He barely even knew the man, and nor did he particularly like him.

“Good. We’ll get a move on then.” Owen crossed the street, Curt following closely behind. “You read the files then?”

“Yeah,” replied Curt. “And none of them seem much like suspects except the guy who speaks Russian.”

“Well if there was too much evidence against them they would have been fired by now.”

“Sure, but why them and not everyone else as well. Why were they singled out?”

“Favouritism? Who knows.” Curt didn’t know if he was going to get anywhere with this case.

“What am I even doing here?” Curt asked, finally voicing the question that had been on his mind ever since he’d arrived. “Can’t MI6 sort this out themselves? It’s just a mole, and I don’t know anyone who works there.”

“My best guess would be experience. How long have you been in the field?”

“Less than two years, and even then I mainly just sit at a desk reading through files.”

“Hm. Experience then. I got a lot of unnecessary cases myself. Was sent off to Belarus in my first year because of a suspected assignation plot.”

“That’s quite big.”

“Oh hardly, both the assassin and the assassinated were civilians, and it had nothing to do with the war either. Simple case of a murder charge and jail time. All I got out of it was an improvement on my Russian accent.”

“How long have you been in the field?”

“Going on four years now. Joined when I was twenty.

“So did I.”

“Then perhaps we have more in common than I thought.” Curt took that as a rare compliment. “Now then, I have a flat in Nevern Square. As you can tell by the name, there is a square in the middle. We can talk there. It’s usually empty at this time of day.”

“You sure it’s not too open?”

“It’s surrounded by a gate and only residents have the key. It’s private enough.”

So they made the short walk to Nevern Square, truly a square surrounded by tall, thin flats. The garden itself was fairly bare, much more so than the other gardens that Curt had walked past during his vague exploration of Earl’s Court when he first arrived, which wasn’t so much an exploration as a hunt for somewhere to sleep.

Owen took out a small key and opened one of the locked gates with it. The gate squeaked as it opened, the rusty iron bars dragging along the floor. Owen closed it behind him.

They went to sit on the nearest bench. Curt scanned the park. It really was empty, which wasn’t surprising. Even if everyone wasn’t at work, there was hardly anything to do in here. You could barely walk a dog since its parameter was so small.

“So out of all the suspects,” Owen began, launching back onto the case. “Did any of them stand out to you?”

“Yeah, actually. What about you?” Owen hesitated, an unfamiliar reaction of his.

“To be honest, no. I haven’t found any evidence worth checking out.” Curt raised his eyebrows in suppressed excitement. Did he finally know something that the great Owen Carvour didn’t? Owen paid no attention to his clear look of arrogance.

“I’m surprised,” said Curt, his voice almost gloating.

“Why, what did you find? You’re not going to mention the Russian-speaker again are you? Half the people in MI6 speak Russian. You can’t be a spy if you only know one language.”

“No not him. I’m talking about that other guy, light hair...” Curt took a second to recall the name. “John Lawson.” Something crossed Owen’s face for a split second, not long enough for Curt to properly catch.

“It’s not him,” replied Owen, with a strangely firm voice.

“Well, how do you know?”

“I just do.”

“But he has a history of working with explosives.”

“So? We’re looking for a Russian spy, not someone who blows things up.”

“No we’re looking for a bad guy, and that’s what bad guys do. Blow shit up.”

“Do you realise how childish you sound? Bad guys and good guys. This is the real world, Mega, not a comic book. It’s not Lawson. Move on.”

“Jeez, why are you getting so defensive?” Owen just rolled his eyes, and wouldn’t reply.

“I’ll take you to Bletchley Park. That’s where Andrew Hayes works. Languages aside, I never trusted him myself. Can’t put my finger on why, though. We can follow him, spy on him, and you...” he turned to Curt. “Can make friends with him.”

“Me?” Owen nodded.

“Of course, he doesn’t know who you are. Although I suggest using your real accent. Your British one could really use some work.”

“I thought I sounded alright.”

“You sound like someone mimicking a film star. Just tell him you have family here or something, no links whatsoever to any secret service. Get him to open up. Also...” Owen handed Curt a brown duffel bag that he’d been carrying around the entire time. “Change of clothes. You can give them back to me when you leave.” Curt assumed he meant leave the country, but he could never really tell with Owen. Nevertheless, he took the bag, with a stiff thank you, setting it down beside his feet.

“Wear them tomorrow when you’re trailing Hayes. You want him to think you’re a well-groomed, strapping American. Not a hard-done-by yank, lost in a foreign country.”

“Fine.” Curt ignored the thinly veiled insult, focused as he was on the case itself. He still suspected Lawson, but clearly he was getting nowhere on that lead with Owen around. But perhaps he didn’t need to.

Andrew Hayes wasn’t the only one who worked at Bletchley.

[dandyxrandy]

I love your writing! If requests are still open I would die for a touch starved Din x reader where reader has a hand kink 😩. When Din removes his gloves the reader traces his veins with her tongue 👅 . Can lead to smut if you want! Thank you! 🥰

Golden, I am SO sorry this took so long! I worked this past weekend so I wrote a lot in between hours. Hopefully its worth the wait! (I honestly didn’t think it was going to end up this long...) Pairing: Din x Reader Rating: Excplicit Length: 3.8k Warnings: First-Time Din, Touch Starved Din, Slight Hand Kink, Cuddling, No ACTUAL sex, Fingering (MtoF) Summary: It took a splinter to finally see Din’s hands. It Took A Splinter     It was small things at first, you noticed, and only when it was you two in the Razor Crest. It was first the removal of his cape, hung off the back of his pilot chair during long stretches of time in hyperdrive. His boots came next, staying off after a shower and only going back on when he needed to leave the Crest. Soon his armor stayed in his quarters all together and he walked around the hull in his black under clothes. His helmet and gloves always stayed on, though, still hiding all of his integrity and making him out to be nothing more than a shape of a human. It both infuriated and intrigued you, but overall you were happy that he felt comfortable enough to shed the armor and walk freely around his ship.    You were hired on as a temporary caretaker of sorts to watch Grogu while Din made his rounds through bounty pucks and the placement paid well enough that you continued your occupation well past the terms that were set. It didn’t help that the man was of good company either, even if he was more times grumpy than not and The Child had wormed his way into your heart as well. You dared say it was almost family like - the three of you.     It was why you took extra care of both the little womp rat and Din, making sure their clothes were well washed, food was made, and the ship was stocked with the necessities. It was your job and you did it well, something you took extreme pride in. It was a big step up from the ‘bar-maid that you once were’ and had much more security as well. It was why falling in a deep fondness for Din was such a bad idea. Getting attached to a job was never a good thought, yet here you were, spending more and more time lingering next to Din while he did mundane tasks like clean his gun or rewire his ship. Just being next to him made you at ease.     Then there was the fact that you loved watching his hands work along any piece of machinery or metal. What did he look like under it all, you wondered. Was he green like the kid? Maybe pale like an albino? Many nights you spent with your hand beneath the waistband of your pants, imagining what his fingers would feel like against your skin, against your lips and teeth and between your legs.

    “Dank farrik!” Din had cursed, causing you to peek your head around into the cockpit from the adjacent hall where you were busy counting out food rations. Din had been sitting in his chair for the past half hour, hunched over something.  You couldn’t quite tell from your angle what that something was, so you set aside the crate you were rummaging through and came in, wiping your hands down your soft pants.     “You okay?” you ask as you round his chair and immediately you freeze. It looked like Din was trying to remove something from his hand - a hand that was very much bare and not in a glove. In fact, neither of his hands were hidden behind the thick leather and the sight before you was scarred and worn skin. It was a tawny beige color that stretched over thick fingers and with every flex of his hand you could see the shift of tendons and veins beneath. It was such a beautiful sight.     Din looked up to you, the ‘T’ of his visor turning as he gestured briefly in his frustration.          “I have a sliver that I cannot get removed.” He turned his wrist to you to show the irritated red skin that was slightly inflamed in the meat of his hand, just below the thumb. It was in an awkward spot on his dominant hand and you could tell why he was having such a hard time. “It has been there for three days.”     “Do you want me to give it a go?” you sheepishly offer him, extending your hand out for the tweezers he was using to try and pry the sliver out with.  It would be the first time you touched him on purpose and you’re almost positive he knows this too, but after a moment of deliberation he lets out a sigh and hands over the tweezers.     “If you can’t get it out, I’m chopping it off.”     You snort at how dramatic he is and move to try to find an angle that works enough for you to work on him. Not finding one you end up dragging one of the ration crates over for you to sit on in front of him, his chair swiveling to the side to give more room. You offer out your open palm to him and he gives his hand over, gently letting it rest in yours. You swear you can hear your heartbeat against your chest with how nervous you are. His skin is dry and rough beneath your touch, but it was also warm and  human.     “How did you manage this?” you ask in attempt to distract yourself as you begin to work at the edges of skin surrounding the sliver. It was deep and no amount of bending his thumb or squeezing the surrounding flesh was making it budge.     “I got stuck when I brought in the crates. Stray piece of wood that I didn’t see. Went through the glove.” He was curt in his answer and you briefly looked up to see him watching you intently. You move the wrong way and the end of the tweezers plucks a raw bit of skin and Din swears, his other hand coming to curl around your knee in a heavy grip.     “Sorry!” you apologize, flinching away but the hand on your knee slips up to your lower thigh, holding you from moving to far away.     “Don’t. Just...get it out.” Din doesn’t remove his hand, though he does relax his grip a little.     You work on him for another few minutes, trying not to have a complete mental break at the fact that Din was touching you, and failing miserably. You felt sweaty and you kept having to refocus on your task because your mind continued to stray to the way Din was letting his thumb trace along the seam of your pants, probably to comfort himself as you dug away the sensitive skin.     “Alright this just isn’t working, but I have an idea.” you said as you set the tweezers aside. “You’re going to have to trust me on this. I had a friend growing up that swore by this method, okay?”     Din nodded and watched as you brought his hand up to your mouth, lips wrapping around the base of his thumb to create a seal. You sucked in as you dug your bottom teeth into the flesh of his hand and scraped up with them. Pulling away to look, you saw that the sliver moved up a little and couldn’t help but beam up at him.     “I almost got it!” Din’s hand stilled on your thigh as you brought his hand back to your mouth and repeated what you did before and you felt the tiny piece of wood almost instantly push out and stick to your tongue. You grinned as you let go of him and licked the wood onto your hand, showing him the little piece.     “Got it!”     In your triumph you almost missed the cant of the helmet towards you and the way Din shifted, his legs spreading a little wider as he leaned in to cup your cheek. He took hold of your jaw, his thumb brushing along the soft skin there as his other hand slid from your thigh, up to your hip.     “Thank you.” The voice coder made his breaths sound heavy.. You stilled under his touch, eyes dropping as your cheeks heated and you saw his cock hard between his legs. Oh. Your eyes snap back up to the visor as Din moves his thumb across your lower lip and you part them, your tongue easing out to press against the pad of his finger. Din’s grip tightens on your hip as he pushes his thumb further in and you meet it with a gentle press of your tongue.     He hisses as you move, dragging your mouth from his thumb to the crook where his pointer finger met the curve of his hand and you kiss there, then his palm.  You take his hand gently by the wrist and turn it over to kiss the tendons and the dark veins beneath his skin, your tongue tracing along each strand. Din practically whines beneath the touches and you want to do more to praise the skin that he showed you - that he let you taste.     “It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone…” he admits in a low whisper.     “How long?”     You don’t stop the gentle worship of his hand, your lips ghosting over every crease and fold of him, mapping out every little scar and break of skin. These hands have seen so much, taken many lives, and here they were gentle and soft and open for you.     “Since...I was a child.”     Your heart drops because that was not what you had expected. He hadn’t touched anyone for his entire adult life? You didn’t think something like that was even possible but you also didn’t know much about the Mandalorian Creed, either. Were they celibate until marriage, if they even married? You knew Din had touched others in a more violent sense, what with the nature of his profession but you knew what he meant in his admission.  It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone, skin to skin.     You take his hand and guide it down your neck, letting his fingers flex briefly around your throat before you take it lower across your collarbone and down your chest to graze over the mound of your breast. You leave it there and let him linger and explore in his own time.     “It’s okay, Din - “ you squeeze his hand below yours, making him feel your soft flesh in reassurance. “You can touch me.”It was almost as if you undid a leash on him with your permission. He was quick with you and in the next moment he had you hauled into his lap, legs straddling his hips as he all but tore your shirt off, tossing it to the side of the chair. You let out an indignant squawk at his rough handling and you felt embarrassment under the sudden exposure. You moved to cover yourself but Din;s fingers wrapped around your wrists to keep your hands lowered at your sides.     “Please, let me…” he trailed off as he lifted his hands slowly and you noticed they had a slight tremble to them. Long fingers touched just beneath your jaw and trailed down your neck again, the tips warm and teasing. You could feel the hard line of his erection against your thigh and you knew that his touches weren’t all in innocent exploration.     His fingers traced over your collarbones again, twin images in their movements, and they dropped lower across the plane of your chest above your breasts. He smoothed his palms down and over, flush against you before they moved low, each hand taking a breast and weighing them in his cupped palms. The tips of his nails scrape over your nipples and you both watch as the skin puckers beneath the touch. He does it again and tweaks the nub at the end and it makes you gasp, your hands slipping lower to grip Din’s legs.     You wanted to touch him like he was touching you but you didn’t want to risk breaking the moment. So many times have you imagined this, imagined him touching you and it took a damned sliver in his hand to get you here.     “You’re so soft.” Din turns a hand over and lets his knuckles skim along the dip of your waist and the curve of your hip before stroking lightly across your belly, then back again. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His fingers linger a bit longer when they dip along the hem of your pants and they slip beneath for a moment before surfacing again. A war waged in his mind and you hoped that the outcome would end up with your pants on the floor.     Din heaved a heavy sigh as his hands slid along your sides and up your back to the base of your skull where he threaded his fingers into your hair. You rocked closer, pressing into his chest as you leaned against him, chin resting on his shoulder. He was content to play with your hair there, his fingers rubbing along your head. You felt like there wasn’t a part of you that he hadn’t touched, above the band of your pants, and yet there was so little of him that you had yourself.     “Din, I want to touch you.” you paused, moving in his lap a little, hips shifting against his thigh in a slow grind, a small mischievous ploy to help get what you wanted. “Please?”     He hummed low in his chest but he didn’t make a move beyond a slight flex of his hands that were now on your shoulders, palms curving across the bend of bone and muscle. You arched into him again, your hips pressing more firmly against his own and your cunt dragged across his length again. Maker, you were wet just from him touching you like this.     “Din -” you began again but stopped when you heard the sound of a wrapper crinkle. You perked up and looked over Din’s shoulder and saw the very tip of one green ear in the next room over.     “Fuck, Din,” You scramble a little at seeing Grogu not ten feet away, and while he was preoccupied with scarfing down ration bars, you didn’t want to chance him seeing you topless on top of his Dad. “The kid.”     You get your shirt back on after getting to your feet and you watch Din adjust himself in his pants as he swivels the chair back around to face the control panel. Grogu looked over from the ration crate he had been plundering and cooed with happiness at finally being given attention. You ran a hand through your hair, composing yourself.     “I’ll get him back to bed,” you say shakily. “He was probably just looking for a snack.” Which he obviously found. You go to pick the kid up but Din stops you by catching your hand.     “Thank you for...that.” The last word was almost a mumble,  as if he was unsure how to explain what just happened between the two of you. You gave his hand a small squeeze.     “I would like to do it again, sometime. Maybe after I get the kid to bed?” It was a bold offer and you toed your luck with giving it up but after Din practically melding his hands into your skin, you thought you didn’t have much more to lose. Din squeezed your hand in return, though.     “I would like that.” ___     It took about an hour to get Grogu back to sleep after he had finished his snack of three ration bars and a concentrated juice pack. The endless stomach of the kid never ceased to amaze you, even after you’ve seen him eat about a dozen frogs on the last planet that you all had been on. When Din came to find you later, you had the kid in your arms, and were edging close to the land of sleep as well. You gave a somnolent smile and pressed a finger to your lips to ‘hush’ Din, even though he had appeared in the doorway without a sound. You set the kid inside his pod and clicked the button to slide the doors shut and waited a moment to see if there would be any fuss from the other side. When none came you sat on the edge of Din’s bed, heaving out a sigh of relief.     “He may be the cutest little cock-block that I have ever encountered in my life,” you jested. Din didn’t move from his stance against the doorway and it made you a little unsure of yourself. Your hands smoothed down your pants to rest on your knees as you contemplated what to do. What did Din think of everything before? Did he regret it now that time and space had been given to the both of you?     While you were with the kid you had reflected back on your actions as well and while you didn’t regret what had happened, you did regret that you didn’t take your time to assure Din that things would be fine between the both of you and that if he wanted to forget that it ever happened, you would act like such. You didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you.     “It is late. I suppose I should let you get some sleep, too. I’ll pilot for a bit.” When you stood, Din finally spoke.     “Did you mean what you said before? About wanting to ‘do it again sometime’?”     You answered without really thinking, letting your heart lead first before your mind could catch and silence it.     “I did.”     Din’s head tipped and you imagined his eyes closing in thought and you wondered what he was thinking. You hoped it was about touching you again. Maker, you wanted him to touch you again.    “I would like that. Kriff - let me, please.” It sounded like a plea as he closed the distance between both of you, his hands sliding up to cup your face. His gloves were still off and his fingers were warm as they slid against your skin. The cool metal of his helmet dipped against your forehead to rest there as he held you close. It almost felt like a kiss and for all you knew, it was the closest thing you would get to having one with him. When you didn’t pull away Din shifted to press closer.     “Take off your clothes,” he softly whispered. “And lay on the bed.”    The command left you shaky with need and you fell into a gentle movement as you removed your clothing, Din stepping back enough to watch you expose yourself to him. You glanced briefly to the egg pod that Grogu was in and the lights blinked gently to indicate that the little one was still asleep inside. You would have to stay quiet.     Your shirt came first, up and over your head. The cool air of the ship made your skin raise with gooseflesh and Din reached out to touch your arm, thumb rubbing over the prickled flesh. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you leaned down to take off your pants and underwear in one go, Din’s hand slipping into your hair as you did. He wasn’t making this any easier.     “On the bed.” It sounded like it was more for himself than you but you moved away from his touch and laid where you were told to, propping yourself up by your elbows as you watched Din move to kneel before you. Awareness sprung to the forefront of your mind and you realized just how very naked you were and it made you blush.     Din was slow, too, as he reached to touch the bone of your ankle and up, his palm curving over your shin to form against your leg. It was so tender, how he touched you, and you reveled in it. His touch slid higher towards the warmth between your legs and you shut your eyes, head tipping back as his knee knocked your legs apart to reveal yourself to him. “Mesh’la,” he muttered, his fingers stopped at your hip as he looked you over. You felt so hot under his gaze even though you couldn’t see anything past the black visor. Arching into his touch you allowed your legs to bend and your hips shift up so he could see all. His hand traveled from your hip to the space just below your belly and his heel dragged across your pubic mound, then further.     He covered you fully at first, his palm curling before his fingers dragged along your outer lips then inner. You canted your hips up into the touch and the very tips of his fingers pressed inside. You moaned out his name before remembering you needed to be quiet and you pressed a hand against your mouth as he explored further up to the first knuckle of one finger.     You were already so slick and open for him and it made it easy for him to slide all the way in and then pull back out to add a second finger. He slowly fucked you with his hand and when he curled his fingers up you had to catch yourself from pitching forward. It was so good - almost enough. You reached down to join his hand and you spread yourself with your fingers, your thumb pressing against your clit.     “Here,” you breathed. “Touch here, too. Steady and slow. Don’t go fast, not yet.”     Din’s thumb flicked up and over and you bucked up again into the touch. His free hand came down on your stomach, pressing your hips back into the mattress as he rubbed small circles on your clit while his fingers remained in you, stretching you full.     “Kriff -that’s so good.” It was a praise that spurred him forward, keeping his thumb pressed down but speeding up to a quicker stroke. Your body arched up despite his hold and you twisted beneath him as you felt the head of your arousal rumble deep. A thin sheen of sweat broke across your skin as Din kept at you, steady and so beautifully dedicated. He listened to your whines and pants of pleasure and adapted to it.     “I’m gonna - fuck…” Your hands twist in the sheets of the bed, your entire being becoming taught as your orgasm builds beneath Din’s hands.     “Cum for me, ad’ika.”     You do, your legs shaking as Din strokes the fire within, along your clit, and through your body’s movements beneath him. He rides your release with you and you know he’s watching it all, his gaze behind the helmet heavy on your flushed skin.     Through your haze you can feel how gentle he is with you, his hand no longer bringing you over the edge but now coaxing you to ride the slope down. He holds you, your leg and your hip, his thumbs peeling over and over against the skin in a gentle worshiping caress. Blinking lazily you turn to him, glance down between his own legs and see the dark patch gathering there and you couldn’t help but smile. He hushes you and moves to cover your body with his own, his weight held up by the frame of his arms.     “Thank you,” Din’s voice is soft through the vocoder.     “Let me -” You reach down between the both of you but Din catches your wrist.     “Not tonight. Let’s just stay like this,” He pauses as you frown a little. “Please,” He adds and you agree, settling beneath the cover of his body in the knowledge that he just wanted to take care of you and take greedy touches of your skin. The warm weight of him sends you in and out of sleep and you twist to settle more comfortably on your side. Din moves with you and lays behind, his body pressed up to every inch of your backside and legs twining with yours.

It was, perhaps, the best way you have fallen asleep in a very long time.

[guiltysecretpasttime]

The Airbender’s Wife (Chapter 3)

Note: Here’s the next chapter 😊 I have a rough outline of the rest of the story; all is left to actually put it all into writing. As you may have noticed, the plot more or less happens on the outskirts of what we see on season 1 of LoK with a Linzin AU focus.  Let me know what you think 😊

----

The next few training days were not any better.

In between training one-on-one with Tenzin and having sessions with the air acolytes, Korra felt she had not progressed as much as she should have. She was disappointed at herself – she had been able to grasp most of the other bending forms quite easily. Aligned with the worry of her other bending masters, she was adept in comprehending the physical aspect of her training but lacked connection with the spiritual side. Everyone knew that Air was the most spiritual among all the elements. This was also why she was training with Mr. Spiritual himself. There was no hint of disapproval from Tenzin, which made it worse.

The Avatar quickly fell into the routine.

Each morning would begin with meditation with Tenzin. The rest of the day would depend on the Airbending master’s schedule.

Korra would either have a training session or asked to join the Air Acolytes’ classes to learn more about the Air Nomad culture. On days that Tenzin was needed at city hall, Korra would be left to her own devices. On other days, Tenzin was able to work remotely from his home office and so is able to supervise training at the island.

One of the first things that she did back in Republic City was to request to go to the library, which pleased Tenzin a lot.

The teenager decided to brush up on the recent history, taking time to take seriously the reading lists that the White Lotus gave her years ago. She had also gone to the archives to just catch on what the press had been saying about the previous Avatar and his family, and by extension the currently last Airbender and his wife.

Aside from satisfying her curiosity, she felt she owed it as much to learn about her hosts to ensure she does not say anything offensive or taboo. Not that the airbender or the metalbender seemed to care a lot anyway.

Chief Beifong, meanwhile, as her husband mentioned previously, did not have regular hours. Korra cannot recall the last time she had seen the woman at the island aside from night of the Pro-bending match. At most, she would see Tenzin having short calls at night (“Yes dear, I understand.” A pause. “Mhmm, take care, okay? Yes, Korra’s here safe. What? Why would she need to blend in the crowd?” Another pause. “That makes sense, yes, the public knows that Avatar is from the Water Tribe.” A sigh. “Yes, dear. Stay safe.”).

-----

Korra had reached the top step of Republic City Hall, having come from exploring the city after spending an hour at the library. It was almost time for Tenzin’s office hours to be over. She was surprised to see the airbender standing in the foyer already.

“Ah, there you are, Korra.” Tenzin strode towards her. “Let’s go.”

“You’re done for today?” The councilman usually waited until the last minute before packing up. Then again, Korra did observe that Tenzin seemed to be disquieted by something in the past days.

“Yes.” He replied brusquely as he quickly exited the building, robes billowing in his wake.

“Uh – the ferry is that way?” Korra stopped and pointed to the opposite direction which Tenzin was heading towards.

“We’re dropping by somewhere first.”

Korra jogged beside him to keep up until they found themselves entering the police headquarters.

“Ah, Councilman Tenzin, Avatar.” The Deputy Chief greeted them as they entered arrived at the floor of the Chief of Police’s office, hands behind his back. “I wasn’t aware that you had an appointment today.”

“We don’t,” Tenzin responded still in that somber tone. “I’m here as Lin’s husband. Would you know where she is?”

Saikhan cracked a smile, barely perceptible but it was there. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Korra fidgeted by the balls of her feet. The last time she was in the presence of the deputy chief was when she was in the interrogation room more than a week ago. She figured that it might be a regular occurrence for Tenzin to drop by, judging by his reaction.

Tenzin released a heavy sigh. “How long has she been in?”

“She’s been here for close to four days,” The metalbender consulted his watch. “Four days entering the fifth day in a few minutes actually.”

“Four days?!” The teenager blurted out in shock. “That’s how many working hours?” She knew she had not seen the police chief recently, but she thought she just did not see the woman’s comings and goings from the island.

“Too many.” The grim airbender crossed his arms. “Didn’t she leave headquarters at all?” Korra remembered that the couple also owned property in the city; she supposed that Lin could have gone home there instead of Air Temple Island.

“She’s been out from time to time on case-related activities,” Saikhan responded with a frown. “But no, Chief spent the rest of the time here.” Chief’s husband tsked quietly at hearing this. “Right now, she’s finishing the last training class of officers and detectives.”

“I didn’t know it was time for the refresher exercises?” Tenzin looked towards the end of one of the corridors, which was connected to the stairwell of the training rooms.

“It’s not. The Chief decided to have mixed group sessions specifically for non-bending forms and techniques.”

“Oh?”

Both Tenzin and Korra were curious; after all, the police department was initially established with the elite metalbenders as the main members.

“With the rising anti-bending sentiment on the streets, the force needs to further assure the public that we are a non-biased organization who is out to serve both benders and non-benders alike.” Saikhan said tightly. “The chief saw it fit to equip all divisions with working knowledge of non-bending: both defensive and offensive. Generally, she instructed benders to use bending as a last resort when encountering non-benders in skirmishes. Maximum tolerance and all that – there’s no point in escalating the tension.”

That makes sense, Korra thought.

“I take it there has been some resistance?” Tenzin tugged at his beard, a mannerism that the Avatar was starting to recognize. He was either agitated or pensive. Korra voted for agitation this time.

“Of course,” Saikhan exhaled. “Good thing this happened now though; if it were a couple of years back, when there were just benders on the force or further back when it was all metalbenders, it would have been chaotic.”

Korra recalled reading that the current Chief Beifong had opened the police academy to non-benders early in her term as chief of police.

The airbender agreed. “It would have been more challenging to placate the public if that were the case.”

“If I may speak candidly, Councilman?” The deputy chief asked. Upon Tenzin’s nod, he continued. “Here’s hoping that the city council pass more…progressive laws for Republic City. There’s only so much that we can do to keep peace and order when enforcing some of your more pedantic laws.”

Any reply Councilman Tenzin might have given was cut-off as footsteps were heard coming from the stairwell. A group of sweaty, disgruntled yet subdued looking officers and detectives came rushing towards the showers, murmurs and shouts littering the air.

At the tail of the group was the Chief of Police in her non-metalbender uniform, wet hair stuck to her forehead and nape, towel on her arm, and a water bottle in hand. Both Tenzin and Saikhan noticed her at the same time and set about to approach her when she was intercepted by another uniformed officer.

“Chief, they’re ready for you in the briefing room.”

Lin nodded and strode purposely the room; Saikhan hurrying after her.

Tenzin was used to this occurrence, Korra figured, as he went inside what she supposed to be the Chief’s office.

The Avatar was surprised at the state of the room.

While the paperwork was arranged neatly on the desk (complete with folders, binders, and impressively cascading tabs), other areas of the room was in disarray – obviously, the owner of the office practically lived there.

The side table had several pots of beverages, (Korra sniffed at it – one was tea, two were coffee, and three were probably coffee at some point. She lifted a pot and tried to swirl it – it looked like toxic sludge, then again she would not put it past Lin to be capable to subsisting on bitter sludge just because she can), one empty cup, multiple bowls of partially eaten food (normal pantry food consisting of bread, noodles, some stir-fry and rice), and a metal tray (“Lin being Lin,” Tenzin dipped his head, smiling at his wife’s stubbornness. “She prefers to clean up herself, didn’t want the staff waiting on her.”).

The couch in the room was a little bit better; a folded blanket was placed on top of two pillows at the end (“She didn’t even bother to rest at the sleeping quarters.”).

Tenzin snuck a couple of packets of biscuits (which the teenager puzzled where he got them from) into the Chief’s desk drawers then he began clearing the side table.

As Korra helped him out, she realized that the airbending master has been worried about his wife not being home all this time.

She stopped to peek through the blinds that faced the rest of the floor.

She saw the police chief patiently listening to one of the officers gesturing towards a diagram on the board where several photos and a map were posted. Lin wiped the sweat off her face and took a long drink of water, eyes not wavering from the officer speaking in front. If that look of determination was anything to come by, the Avatar did not think that whatever the Chief was working on that week was not easily solved.

---

“Go home, Chief.” Saikhan attempted to get the folder from Lin’s hands after the briefing for the stake-out ended.

“No, the stake-out –.”

“Can be handled by myself and the rest of the team.” At the Chief of Police’s skeptical face, the Deputy Chief opened his hands imploringly. “Chief, we’ve worked together for a lot of years now. I know our protocols by heart.” He eyed her massaging a part of her left shoulder. “And, how many has it been? Eight?”

Anyone who has worked with Lin Beifong knew her philosophy of leaving all the confrontation on the mats. Having personal issues and altercations with fellow policemen on field or while on the beat may pose security concerns. It could also be a matter of the operation’s success or failure. She had then allowed sparring (regulated sparring, that is) at headquarters to get them to let off their steam.

With her recent focus on the integration of non-bending techniques, there have been a couple of people on the force (both detectives and uniformed officers) who were a tad too miffed (and that’s putting it lightly) at this development. At the start of each training session, she opened the floor to anyone who wanted to challenge her. To prove her point, she did not use earth or metalbending while her opponent can use either.

The last time Saikhan checked, there had been less than ten challengers so far.

“Fifteen is the final count.”

“Fifteen!” He was stunned. “So, seven more in the last session?”

Lin shrugged, testing her sore shoulder. “I saved the most difficult group for last.” She has managed to win each of the fifteen matches (Lin idly wondered if that was how her mother felt when she won her Earth Rumble championships back in the day).

“Well, either way, you need to rest up, Chief – you’ll be no good to us if you’re not in tiptop shape.” He half-jested, knowing fully well that his boss can still take anyone down even at her current state. The man received a punch to his forearm in retaliation. “Don’t worry about it, all that is left is the waiting game and paperwork. We can manage.” He waved towards the office, grinning. “And, if anything, I also do not want to be at the receiving end of the last airbender’s tirade should I not be able to convince you to get some rest. Your husband and the Avatar are waiting in your office.”

Saikhan did have a point and she did trust that the man was highly capable in her absence. He also knew very well that when Tenzin drops by as Lin’s husband, Chief Beifong has overstayed at work.

Lin thrusted two files under her arm to him. “Fine but call me as soon as you hear anything.” The man had the audacity to salute her as he shooed her away (“Get some rest, Chief!”).

The past days have been hectic.

The triads were taking advantage of the pockets of gatherings supporting the non-bending movement. Legally, there was not anything the police can do about it. The citizens do have the right of freedom of assembly. There has been no incident that would equate to any law-breaking; all the force can do is wait and observe.

Patrolling schedules were revamped to ensure mix of benders and non-benders per location. Both sensitivity training and non-bending techniques training were quickly delivered to the force. It was short-notice and the timing was tight but Lin believed that it would be better to be prepared than to be caught off guard.

The triads were not making it any better as they were, more often than not, composed of benders preying on establishments owned by non-benders. She had allotted more metalbenders as plainclothesmen in the vicinity to allay their fears. It did stave off crime.

For now, she thought pessimistically. The city never did seem to rest; by extension, neither did she.

Just today, she had given a go signal for stakeout made up of the mostly junior detectives and officers. There was a severe lack of progress in the intelligence reports provided by the seasoned officers. She figured that if this junior team produces more results, the other team would be challenged to step up and shape up.

Tenure was not enough to secure promotions in the force, after all. Spirits know she knew that very well.

She tilted her water bottle back, finishing the rest of her drink. An empty stomach and a sore body never did not make for a happy chief of police.

Another day at headquarters, another day to remind herself why she had to keep going.

As Lin approached her office, she could sense Tenzin pacing inside.

Well, there’s my number one reason.

The metalbender shook her head to clear maudlin thoughts (wouldn’t want to get distracted while on the job, wouldn’t we?) before turning the doorknob.

“Tenzin, Korra – to what do I owe this pleasure of a visit?” She entered the room, shutting the door behind her, correctly assuming that her husband was about to berate her.

“Visit?” Lin could hear the strain in Tenzin’s voice. “This isn’t a visit, Lin. It’s almost a week since you last went home. You’ve practically camped in your office.” The airbender’s robes flowed as he waved indicating the room. “This can’t be healthy, Lin.”

A blast of air escaped as he huffed, causing several paperwork to flutter from her desk.

“Don’t worry, I was just riling you.” Lin could vaguely see the Avatar cautiously watching the exchange from the couch, inching towards the desk to pick up the fallen sheets of paper. “I’m leaving headquarters with you.” She placed a hand on his arm, gripping it and trying to reassure him. “I’ve arranged it all with Saikhan. I’ll just have a quick shower.”

---

The next hour found the three of them in an alcove of a popular (albeit expensive) restaurant in the city. Tenzin selected this one as he was sure that they would be granted privacy (that and he knew that the service was quick). Soon their table was silent except for the clatter of utensils and bowls as they dug into their ordered food.

“Are you part Fire Nation?” Korra tilted her head, her face scrunching in disbelief at the amount of spicy on Lin’s plate. She had been unable to resist asking as she watched the metalbender scoop more chili garlic.

“Wouldn’t we all like to know,” Lin mumbled through a mouthful of said spicy noodles, not looking up from her plate.

Tenzin shot a warning look at the Avatar, silently communicating that she does not push the woman. Her heritage was a prohibited topic.

Lin’s nickname before she made chief was Captain Crankypants (though if he were a betting man - which he isn’t, mind you– he would bet that her detectives and officers still called her that away from her earshot). He knew her long enough to know the trick to this was to let her eat first. She was the very embodiment of hangry. It was for this particular reason that he always made sure to have some biscuits on his person. His robes, after all, were voluminous enough to hide a pack or two.

Korra had her mouth form an “O” in curiosity. Lin glared at her to stop her from probing further.

Tenzin thanked the spirits that the usually impulsive Avatar held her tongue.

He could see that other patrons of the restaurant were starting to notice their presence as dinner time approached. It was not like they were particularly inconspicuous – he with his Air Nomad robes, Lin in her particularly striking green attire and of course, Korra’s Water Tribe outfit. He realized that this was what Lin had called about a few days ago – for Korra’s protection, for her to ideally wear something less distinguishable that would mark her as the Avatar.

He tossed a side glance at his wife, knowing that she would probably have noticed the same attention that they were drawing but at the same time wishing that she would not chew him out just yet.

Instead, he discreetly pushed the fried salt and pepper squid to her.

Airbender through and through… redirect, diffuse the situation…

Lin stabbed two pieces of squid and that was that.

Tenzin knew Lin’s moods. He could feel the tension on her shoulders, coiled and ready to pounce at a single trigger. She was too amped-up to be coped in Air Temple Island. He would probably lose her to the earthbending training grounds if he insisted that they go home.

“Where do you want to go after dinner, Lin?”

The woman just continued to chew her food for a couple of moments; Tenzin started to doubt if she heard him.

“What day is it today?” Lin finally asked, chin resting on her hand.

Korra answered for him.

The earthbender turned to him. “There’s a pro-bending match today at the arena.”

Tenzin could feel the heat behind his ears as the Avatar also turned her attention to him. “You want to go to the arena?”

“Yes, why not?” Lin leaned to the back of her seat, where Tenzin’s arm waited, and crossed her arms. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a live match.”

On any other day, he would have tried to dissuade his wife from supporting a spectacle.

However, it wasn’t any other day. He has not seen his wife out of work for almost a week and he was not about start an argument during her first night out in a while.

“Pro-bending match it is.” He said resignedly as he tightened his grip on her shoulder, feeling at least a small amount of tension leave her posture.

I’d count that as a win, he thought, kissing the top of Lin’s head.

---

“Where is Korra? I would think she would be back by now.”

“She’ll be fine. There’s probably a long line at the loo.”

“But still – ouch - did you just punch me?”

“Tenzin, she’s the Avatar. She knows three elements; she can defend herself.”

Grumbling. Grumbling.

“Fine. Move – remove your arm around me, I need to stand up and concentrate– yes. That’s it.” Stomp. “She’s at the players’ platform.”

“She’s WHERE?”

Her hand clung to his robes, keeping Tenzin at his seat. It was all she can do to prevent him from storming down to where she detected Korra was through seismic sense.

“Tenzin,” She hissed as they both sat back down. “People are starting to look at us. Keep it down.”

Lin had selected these particular set of seats so as to not draw any attention to them (well, as minimal attention they could get with a tall bald tattooed airbender clothed in the colors of the sun as they could get).  She truly did enjoy pro-bending and she knew her husband was just humoring her tonight. Nonetheless, she was quite contented to sit through his griping throughout the match (“What kind of move was that? That waterbender had the worst form I’ve ever seen.”).

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd as the bell rang, proclaiming the Golden Temple Tigerdillos as the winner of the first round.

As the match went on, the earthbender felt her husband become more receptive to the sport as he started to lean forward in his seat (“That waterbender of the red team is an idiot. Why are they keeping him?”).  She laughed at his indignant face (“Where did they even find him; why don’t they kick him out??” “Tenzin, it doesn’t work that way.”); she found his reddening head endearing as he worked himself up on a sport he said was a mockery.

She gave his hand a squeeze.

The airbender looked down at her, seeing a smile on her tired face, the smile reflected by the crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

He returned her smile and he tugged her closer to him.

Maybe, just for now at least, Lin can pretend that they were just an ordinary couple on an evening out rather than the chief of police and the last airbender.

----

“Here they are – the Fire Ferrets.”

“Thanks, Toza.”

“Any time, Chief Beifong. Councilman Tenzin.” The burly man lumbered off, muttering a congratulations to the bending brothers.

“Chief, Tenzin!” Korra burst forth, placing herself ahead of the two Fire Ferrets in attendance. “I’m so sorry, I got distracted and I -.”

Tenzin turned to his wife, who had her hands on her hips defensively. “I told you this was a distraction, Lin!”

“What are you talking about? We’re all off duty tonight, aren’t we?” The Chief of Police responded sardonically, gesturing to her overcoat, reminding the airbender that her armor was on the sky bison’s saddle (“I’m calling Oogi tonight – leave your armor there Lin, I’m sure you’ve seen enough of your armor this week.”).

She tuned out the teenaged Avatar’s exuberant storytelling and continued to scan the room with interest.

Even as a follower of pro-bending who occasionally watched matches in the arena, Lin has never been to the player holding room. She noted the brothers – the earthbender, with wide eyes, was pulling at his brother’s sleeve, clearly trying to draw his attention to Lin. She caught the eye of the firebender, recognition dawning on both of them at the same time.

She felt the agitation come in waves from the firebender as indicated by his increased heartbeat. The Chief of Police glanced at Tenzin and Korra, both engrossed in their discussion, then approached the pro-benders.

“So, this is where you both ended up.”

“Yes, Chief Beifong.” The earthbender squeaked out, shifting his eyes between his brother and the policewoman.

The firebender, the older brother, if Lin’s memory served her correctly, inclined his head in as he added. “We’ve been trying to make ends meet – within the law, this time.”

“Good to hear, kid.” She could not resist the slight upturn of her lip. Juvenile delinquents who manage to turn around their lives were quite close to her heart (not that she’d admit it though it was fairly obvious to Suyin for obvious reasons). “You’ve been making quite a stir this season, good job.” It was the most that she could give as a compliment.

“You-you-you’re following pro-bending?” The green-eyed earthbender stammered. “You’ve followed the Fire Ferrets?” He was practically bouncing with excitement. “Mako, Mako! Chief Beifong knows who the Fire Ferrets are!” He stage-whispered to the firebender, Mako.

Mako rolled his eyes while he took off the arm guards. “Well technically, she did know us even before we became the Fire Ferrets.” He moved to clean his helmet.

Isn’t he just a ray of sunshine, Lin thought. He just might grow on me.

“Okay, fine!” A gust of wind got their attention as the airbending master had apparently bowed out to the Avatar and allowed her to spend some time training with the pro-benders in her spare time.

Lin decided that she did not give the kid enough credit. There might be the makings of the diplomat (or politician?) within her just yet if she was able to wrangle this agreement with the airbending master.

“Oof!” A blue blur hit her at the chest.

“Thank you- thank you -thank you -thank you!” Korra held the metalbender in a tight embrace.

Over the Avatar’s head, Lin threw a Tenzin a look, asking for help. The man had the gall to grin widely at her, signaling her to return the hug.

“I didn’t do anything, kid.” Lin gasped out as she awkwardly patted the teenager’s shoulder.

“Is she allowed to do that?” The younger Fire Ferret brother whispered loudly, hand partially covering his mouth, other hand pointing at the waterbender.

Mako looked disinterested while Tenzin shrugged, grin still plastered on his face.

The metalbender narrowed her eyes at him, thinking of ways to retaliate later at home.

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

Note: Hmm. So there.  Tossed in some thoughts based on headcanons for me like Lin actually liking pro-bending, because, well, she was raised (or minimally raised) by an Earth Rumble champion. And of course, I did not take Tarrlok’s comment about the Chief of Police’s track record sarcastically so I wanted to include bits on how she would have worked on the Equalist issue in the background (because she probably wasn't just a glorified body guard? 🤷🏽 Idk haha). Lemme know as well if you have specific HCs that you have in mind; quite curious too. :) 

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My related posts:

Prologue (Contentment) | 1 | 2 | x | 4

[katierosefun]

ignore

…or the time Anakin Skywalker accidentally on purpose locks Obi-Wan and Satine in a room after the events of the Coronet in hopes that they’ll actually talk to each other. (They don’t. But at least they crawled around an air vent together.)

**for Obitine Week 2020, Day 1: 7 Deadly Sins--an exploration on pride.

wc: 2109

read on ao3 | read on ff 

Obi-Wan was going to have words with Anakin once he found him.

“Anything?” Satine asked from behind Obi-Wan. He was too aware of Satine’s breath against the back of his neck, her warm presence in the otherwise chilled supply room. But despite the actual warmth of her physical presence, Satine’s voice was cool, steady. She didn’t want to be here, and Obi-Wan certainly didn’t want to be, either.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, dropping his hand from his comlink. He had been trying to get a connection in the last five minutes—or what must have been five minutes. It could have been shorter, it could have been longer. There weren’t any clocks in the supply room. (Closet, really.) “There’s no signal here.”

Satine let out a short breath, and again, Obi-Wan tried to ignore the way it brushed against the back of his neck. “Wonderful,” she said. “And I don’t suppose you happen to have your lightsaber, do you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied wearily. Oh, he was most definitley going to have words with Anakin.

They had been walking down one of the levels of the Coronet, just finishing the last of their sweeps for droids when Anakin had off-handedly asked Obi-Wan for his lightsaber. Obi-Wan had been suspicious from the start, but then Anakin had given him a sheepish smile, saying that he had dropped his on one of the upper floors.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin had said hurriedly. “Rex told me that he’s got it. I just need a light. One of the rooms down there has the power out—and we don’t need any more spooked politicians.”

So Obi-Wan had given Anakin his lightsaber, lecture already halfway past his lips when Anakin had snapped his fingers—actually, snapped his fingers, which, looking back now, Obi-Wan figured should have been another red flag. But he had been too tired with the day to look past Anakin’s acting, and when Anakin claimed that they needed to go to the supply closet because “ah, I forgot that some of the parts are up there”, Obi-Wan had reluctantly followed.

And Anakin had talked the whole way up the floor, his words nothing more than a scramble of technical jargon that Obi-Wan didn’t have the capacity to try to decipher. It wasn’t until Anakin took a quick breath to address Satine, who had been just walking out of one of the lifts before Obi-Wan actually focused again.

“Duchess,” Anakin had said brightly. “Perfect.” Obi-Wan figured Anakin’s use of perfect should have been another red flag, but again, he hadn’t paid that part much attention as Anakin had hurriedly explained to Satine that he needed two people to hold open the faulty supply room door.

“Some hijinks in the system,” Anakin had explained. “I can fix it up in just a few minutes, but first I’ve got to take care of something in the lower levels.”

And Satine had agreed to help—of course she agreed to help, and she had taken the other side of the door across from Obi-Wan, their eyes pointedly sliding away from each other as Anakin ducked into the supply closet. Anakin had puttered around there for a few seconds and then, with a loud sigh, he had declared the supply closet a bust, and had asked Obi-Wan and Satine instead to check if maybe they could find the part he needed instead.

So Obi-Wan and Satine had walked inside, and then Anakin had said cheerfully, “See you all in a few minutes!”

And then the door had slid shut in their faces.

At first, Obi-Wan had thought that the door must have just slipped from Anakin’s grip—or that this was just some small joke, but the seconds Obi-Wan had spent tapping on the door turned into minutes, and after an additional three minutes of absolute silence from the other side, Obi-Wan came to the realization that his former apprentice had, in fact, decided to cram Satine and himself in this tiny supply closet for reasons Obi-Wan didn’t particularly want to think about.

Right now, Obi-Wan could only think about what he would say to Anakin once they got out of this wretched little space.

“I don’t suppose you could use the Force to unlock the door?” Satine suggested at last.

“I was just about to,” Obi-Wan replied. And he did—he called on the Force, waited for that familiar warmth and tug of its response, and there: he could feel the inner gears of the lock turning, the door starting to open, but then, abruptly, suddenly, the door slammed back shut.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and glared at the door.

“What is it?” Satine asked.

Not funny, Anakin, Obi-Wan only thought before replying dryly, “It would appear Anakin has ideas of his own.”

There were going to be words.                  

“Ideas,” Satine repeated, her voice equally unamused.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, letting his hand drop to his side. He managed to turn towards Satine, trying to ignore the way that if any of them leaned any closer, their foreheads might bump against each other. Obi-Wan concentrated on the strands of sunshine-colored hair dropping past Satine’s forehead. She at least wasn’t wearing the headpiece—that was still probably lying around somewhere on the upper levels of the Coronet from where Merrik had knocked it away.

“Well, then, Master Jedi,” Satine said, her voice clipped as she lifted her eyes up to the ceiling, “I suggest we come up with a few ideas of our own.”

Obi-Wan followed Satine’s gaze up to the ceiling, where he found one of the grates to the ventilation system. He dropped his gaze back down to Satine, who met his eyes with a steady, defiant look of her own. Obi-Wan waited a moment before he said, “Anakin could open the door any minute.”

“Yes, well,” Satine said, casting the door a wary look, “given what just happened, I have the feeling that might be some time yet.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but agree. Still, he eyed the vents again. “Are you quite certain?” he asked.

A corner of Satine’s lips twitched. “I am quite certain,” she said. She turned up to the grate again, hands set at her hips. “We did our fair share of climbing through tight spaces in the past, haven’t we?” Her voice dropped a little at the end, leaving room for a strange, tense silence between the two as the words brought back a flurry of memories for the both of them.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan heard himself say at last. He cleared his throat, looking back up at the grate. “The ventilation shaft will be a first for us, however.”

“All the better,” Satine replied. She gestured towards the grate. “Care to do the honors?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, more to himself than to Satine, but he tugged the grate down from the ceiling. It fell to the floor with a dull thunk, narrowly missing both Obi-Wan and Satine’s toes.

“Right then,” Satine said, looking up at the empty space left behind in the shaft. “You know this ship better than I—so you go first.”

There was no point arguing around that. “I’ll pull you up,” Obi-Wan only said before he leapt up to the air vent. He pressed himself flat against the cool surface and, turning back around, he offered a hand to Satine. Obi-Wan could feel her hands through his gloves, her fingers naturally twining themselves through his as he hauled her up beside him.

“Well,” Satine said, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, “lead the way.”

Obi-Wan looked around the vents. “This way,” he decided at last, nodding to the front. He shifted to the side, just enough so Satine could be at his side as they carefully started their crawl down the shaft. Obi-Wan tried to ignore how their elbows, hands, fingertips brushed against each other as they crept their way forward. The only sounds were their hands and knees against the surface, their breaths.

“This way,” Obi-Wan said after some time, gesturing down a corner. He waited until Satine went first, and then he reached her side.

“Just straight down for a little while longer,” Obi-Wan said, mentally mapping out the halls in his head. “And then we should be in a decent enough place to get out.”

“Very well,” Satine replied.

They lapsed back into silence—or, at least, as silent as the echoing vents would allow them.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said at last, trying to keep his voice light, “I’m sure you weren’t expecting this, out of all things.”

“This has been a day for surprises,” Satine replied. She turned her head briefly to Obi-Wan—perhaps just meant as a quick glance, maybe just a quick look to see how much farther they had to go, but in that small moment, their eyes locked onto each other for perhaps a second longer than either of them meant for.

Something panged in Obi-Wan’s chest. A bit of Satine’s hair had fallen in her face again.

“How much longer?” Satine asked at last.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Just down there,” he said, nodding towards where, to both his relief and disappointment, the grate waited for them.

“Wonderful,” Satine said.

--

The trooper standing in the middle of the hallway didn’t so much as blink when Obi-Wan lowered Satine to the ground. Obi-Wan landed beside her, brushing himself off as Satine righted herself.

“Your quarters, Duchess,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the set of doors down the hall.

“Thank you,” Satine replied, tilting her head towards him as though they had just walked out of a meeting instead of the ventilation system. She lifted her eyes to Obi-Wan, blue eyes catching in the light. “I’ll be seeing you once we land?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied.

Satine gave Obi-Wan a tight-lipped smile. A small, weary one that made Obi-Wan’s chest ache, but he managed to return the gesture the best he could. And he kept that weary smile on his face until Satine had disappeared into her quarters.

--

Obi-Wan found Anakin tinkering in the lower levels, the lights very much activated and things running very smoothly.

Anakin didn’t even bother turning around from whatever it was he was working on. “So,” he said cheerfully, “how was it?”

“My lightsaber if you please, Anakin.”

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Anakin asked, but he threw Obi-Wan’s lightsaber over his shoulder. Obi-Wan caught it one-handed, and fastening it to his side, he scowled at the back of Anakin’s head. But Anakin didn’t seem to care or notice, especially as he continued, “How’d you two get out? I was going to open the door a few minutes ago, but when I did, you two weren’t there.” He wiped his hands against a rag. “Vents, right? That must have been fun.”

Anakin turned around at last, his face stretched into a wide grin—but then it instantly faded at Obi-Wan’s expression. “Ah,” Anakin said. “You’re not…mad at me, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “Why would I be? You only just locked Duchess of Mandalore and myself in a supply closet.”

Anakin relaxed, and then a moment later, he said, “You’re being sarcastic.”

Force help him.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “I am being sarcastic, Anakin.”

Anakin winced. “Listen,” he said, turning the rag over in his hands. “I didn’t mean to get you guys into any serious trouble. I would have let you out in a few minutes—I swear,” he added hurriedly at Obi-Wan’s glower. “But you two looked like you needed some time to yourselves. Like everyone else!” He added again. Anakin lifted his hands. “Just an innocent attempt to get you guys to catch up on the good old days. I swear.”

Obi-Wan regarded Anakin warily. His former apprentice was many things, but innocent was not quite the word he could ever imagine himself using to describe Anakin Skywalker.

But Anakin blinked and smiled at Obi-Wan as though he were a youngling just caught staying up too late.

Force help him.

“We’ll be back on Coruscant soon,” Obi-Wan said at last, turning around. “You might want to get cleaned up.”

“Will do,” Anakin said cheerfully. Obi-Wan heard him throw the rag aside, and then Anakin hurried up to his side. “But did you guys get to reminisce a little?”

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. He looked so ridiculously hopeful, the kind that made Obi-Wan unsure whether to shake or smile at him. Anakin’s intentions were well-meant—Obi-Wan knew that much, no matter how questionable his friend’s actions were.

And looking at Anakin’s hopeful reaction, Obi-Wan almost felt sorry for his next words.

“No,” Obi-Wan said at last. “We didn’t.”

[elmidol]

What Monsters Fear (NSFW)

Three Blind Tooke Part One Resistance is Futile

Read on AO3

Warnings: dubcon, sex with Hux (you can skip it), sex with Kylo

Three Blind Tooke Part One: Resistance is Futile Chapter Twenty: What Monsters Fear

How easy it is to hurt yourself when you’re just a body with no worth.

General Hux walked boldly into the room, which struck you as odd given that you could not recall him having previously entered Kylo Ren’s quarters. More specifically, when the man was not present. You eyed him from your position on the bed. Your legs were crossed, your bladder burning with the urge to urinate, and you had long ago accepted that eventually you would wet the bed like a child having a night terror. The cup, which held some sort of steaming liquid, captured your attention as much as the man himself. He set this upon the bedside table and reached for the chain where it was affixed to the bed. You watched him slide the key into place.

The moment it was unlatched, you went against your instincts to attack your enemy in favor of darting to the refresher. The redhead did nothing to deter you; the man likely knew of your current state. When you had relieved yourself, you washed your hands and returned to the room. General Hux gestured to the cup on the table. You walked over to it, and found that within there was your favorite flavor of cocoa. That he had remembered from when Kylo Ren had ordered it for you, that hit you hard. You swallowed thickly and placed a hand against the side of your face.

Dropping your arm once more, you reached for the drink and brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You blew lightly, sending the trail of steam in a different direction. Instead of drinking the liquid, you inhaled the scent of it. “This isn’t a gesture of mercy—I don’t expect that from you.”

“As you shouldn’t,” he retorted whilst taking a step forward, towards you.

“An apology? Whatever for?”

“You are quite observant, tooka.” He sighed prior to answering your inquiry. “I value my word, and I had told you that things would be solely political in the matter with your mother.”

“So…it did become personal?” A noise of affirmation from him. You at last allowed some of the hot liquid to travel past your lips. It was not, thankfully, at a temperature that would have burnt your tongue. It warmed your body on that first sip, the drink having a sort of calming effect that you appreciated in light of things. Your respect of the man grew at this display of self-accountability. “I don’t remember any of it. And I do not know if that is more painful, or some sort of sick blessing.”

For his part, General Hux said nothing. There were no false words of comfort, nor any outward gloating over the success of their plans. You placed the cup once more on the bedside table, turned to him, and stared at his countenance. A smile tugged at your lips, and after a moment you found that you could not keep back the single, bitter laugh. His nostrils flared at the sound of it, his lips twitching as he fought back a scowl. You trailed a hand along your naked side, tilting your head back at an angle.

“You treat me as though I am not bare before you. It’s… I don’t know how to react to it. I’m more accustomed to being objectified by now.” You narrowed your eyes then, your heart hiccupping in your chest. “Do you pity me, General?” His cold gaze fixed on your eyes, the man said nothing. “You watched the way he treated me. Using that power against me. It isn’t always like that, and yet…”

“Ren has not the maturity to deal with emotions,” the man shot. “His…yours… He rules with fear—solely. Perhaps there are a few who follow him out of respect, however…” General Hux had at last closed the distance between the two of you. He lifted a single hand, cupping your chin with a grip that was a mix of authority and reluctant tenderness. It, sickeningly, thrilled you that he might strike you at any moment out of spite. “There are pawns in this galaxy, tooka. Replaceable. Weak-minded. There are those who endured less than you have—and how I want to break you, my enemy. I want to break you.” His mouth was harsh against yours when his lips crashed down upon yours. You whimpered, your teeth digging into the flesh of your lip before he worked open your mouth with his tongue. That organ filled your orifice, exploring and dominating you.

It was different than when Kylo Ren kissed you. General Hux hid nothing; his distaste for you mingling with the respect he had allowed to grow. Your hand met his when you reached for the front of his pants. Maybe, you thought in the back of your mind, you would at last become expendable if he had his fill of you. He lifted his limb to instead undo his belt, all the while you tugged down the zipper and pulled open the button. You then wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting your body and winding your legs about his hips. The redhead lined himself up with your entrance, pushing inside of you with a hiss of breath that traveled across your lips, your mouth so close to his.

Your breath hitched, catching in your throat, at the first undulation of his hips. He was staring down at you, and how small you felt. Rocking into him, you tilted back your head to expose your neck. As though you would will him to sink his teeth into your flesh, to open a vein and allow you to bleed. Instead he set his tongue to your windpipe, dragging it upwards in a manner that had you clenching around him. Your body had always been so traitorous. You trailed a hand up to his hair, dipping down your chin so that you could tug him to you, kissing him for want of something to do with your mouth aside from scream in frustration. The leather of his gloves stuck to your sweat-covered sides. His lips pulled back to reveal his teeth as he hissed in pleasure, bucking up into you again, at the same time forcing you to move your hips the way he liked it.

It was so simple, allowing him to manipulate you. You held tightly to the front of his uniform top. One of his hands met your face, his thumb hooking past the corner of your mouth. You set your capped teeth against it, only enough pressure to keep the digit there. His teeth, free from any sort of seal, met your collarbone. You squeezed your eyes closed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the pain that coursed through you. Finally. General Hux placed a kiss against the area. You felt only heat. Your hands found the collar of his shirt. How nicely it covered his throat. Once more did your eyes lock with his, and then your lips. His cock pushing in and out of you, you desperately trying to alter the angle so that your clit would be stimulated. Clearly he would not allow you to drown in pain; thus orgasm would be an alternative. His hands on your ass, him choosing when and how you would experience that pleasure. Your jaw dropped open and your eyelids fluttered.

You were a trembling mess in his arms, your cunt so wet for him; you could hear every thrust, every smack of his flesh against yours. General Hux pulled you off of him. You whimpered, whining as he turned you around and bent you over the edge of Kylo Ren’s bed. You knew what was coming, and it was not the sort of pain you had been praying for. It was not death, but instead a further degradation.

His gloved hand met your ass in a sharp smack that had you bucking against the mattress. The redhead slipped his cock between your legs, fucking your outer lips. You moaned at the feel of him, along your cunt, the head of his cock brushing against your lower belly. Backwards. Forwards again, in time with his spankings at times, while at others it was in contrast. You felt your vaginal walls spasming in the telltale signs that you were close.

Objectify me. Objectify me. I’m nothing.

His fingertips dug into your hips as he reentered you—and that was all it took for you to cum around him. You screamed in orgasm, a quivering mess underneath your enemy as he sought his own release within you. His groan entered your ears, his cock twitching inside of you.

General Hux took a single step backwards, wiping his cock on your thigh before tucking himself away. You remained on the bed in that same position. Your chest heaving with every breath you took, sweat running down your body as his semen dribbled out of you. You felt his thumbs parting your lower lips, felt his eyes taking in the sight. “I broke my mother’s heart,” you managed to say as your enemy found your clit with two fingers. He then shifted those digits to your entrance, thrusting them into you. You rocked into his touch, knowing his actions for what they were. Something physical to keep you from drowning in the doubts that any of this was real. Something to distract you from the fact that you wanted to die—wanted to die so that they could take nothing more from you. “I’m going to destroy you both… I’ll destroy him.” General Hux began stroking the place inside of you that made it to where you lost your voice. You panted, moaned, and whimpered for him as you came again.

As he withdrew his fingers, the man spoke softly, “You should clean yourself, tooka.”

You nodded wordlessly, forcing yourself to your feet and walking once more into the refresher. There you used both the toilet and shower. You dried off, taking little time to complete each task before returning to the room and climbing onto the bed. You well knew what would happen. Thus you did not flinch in the least when General Hux secured the collar around your neck, when he chained you to the bed again. He held the cooled cup of cocoa to you, and you took only a sip before stating that you were done. The man left with the drink.

Drawing your knees towards your body, you wrapped your arms around yourself and set your forehead to your legs. It had been painful enough to know that they were targeting the other cells. Discovering that a map to Skywalker had been located, that the First Order was pursuing it, however, was by far worse. Force, don’t let him find it. You felt like a hypocrite; it was not as though you held a fondness for the Force, not after it had been used against you in such a manner. Countless times you had been subjected to its control, to the control of those who could wield its power.

What disturbed you more than anything was that your thoughts wandered to Kylo Ren. Not in the context of him as your enemy; you wondered, instead, how it was he would react to your actions with General Hux. His words from the past rang through your ears: You may touch him. A single time. As though he truly believed he owned you.

In truth, you hated the way General Hux handled you. The degrading way in which he spanked you. It made you feel wretched and small. Then again, you had wanted a different reason to feel that way, anything to take your mind off of what you could possibly have done to your mother. You wanted to feel used. The words you had spoken so long ago and, in some ways, often to Ren rang true: your body meant nothing.

Their attempts to agree with you on this were sometimes laughable. The way they would become so easily distracted by it. General Hux had proven himself a liar, to say he wasn’t ruled by such desires.

You pulled at the collar on your neck, stretching the chain as best you could. There was not enough of it to allow you to strangle yourself. You would pass out, perhaps, however could not—

The door to Kylo Ren’s quarters slid open. You were sitting cross-legged, the chain pulled nearly as tightly as it could be, and your body facing the headboard. You turned your head, however, to see the entrant. His stride was confident as ever, which set a sinking feeling in your stomach. He said not a single word to you; the robed man instead preoccupied himself with drawing out a clean shirt. You had to twist your torso to keep track of the man. All the while your heart was racing in your chest. Your mind buzzing with fear and anxiety. He had found the map. He had discovered the location of Skywalker before the Resistance could do so.

A metallic chuckle rang in your ears. “You’re restless.” You stopped fidgeting immediately, instead shrinking in on yourself. Kylo Ren approached you, his arm outstretched and fingers hooking. You heard a click as he unlocked you via the Force. His hand then made its way to your collar, which he undid and tossed to the ground. The shirt he thrust into your lap. “You’ll be thrilled—to know that the location of the map is temporarily hidden. But he will break, tooke.”

“Will break?” you repeated, your hands grasping at the material of the shirt. You pulled the article of clothing over your head, at last able to cover your nakedness. That horrid mask was pointed in your direction. “He? Who… You’ve taken a prisoner.”

“A member of the Resistance. They are working on him now—General Hux’s men.”

“You mean they’re torturing him. You’re inhumane, creature.”

“Creature,” he repeated with a scoff that is followed by a chuckle. “Yet you call him General, despite that he is overseeing these deeds. Always General—perhaps monster on occasion, I suppose.” Kylo Ren balled up the front of your shirt, tugging you onto your feet. Your hands whipped up, seizing his wrist as you tried to steady yourself. “So personal with me, tooke. Purely carnal with him.”

“Don’t delude yourself, Ren.” He hummed when you uttered his name, the man leaning in closer and brushing your cheek with the smooth surface of his mask. “He does not resort to parlor tricks to bend me to his will.”

“You Resistance members have mouths on you.” Your mind wandered to the prisoner he had referred to. His hands were on your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees. You grit your teeth, feeling your entire face heating up. “You don’t object to this, tooke. Unless you wish to lie.” Wrinkling your nose, you lifted your eyes up to his mask, which was still pointed in your direction. “You wish to see the face of the man that has been captured—we can…humor one another.”

You fumbled with the front of his robes, with his pants. Though he was not in possession of the map, the Force user appeared to be in a rather pleasant mood; the man chuckled at you once more. His gloved hand brushed through your hair, petting you. You withdrew his cock, finding that it was already hardening, and started to stroke him. His petting was almost tender, yet straddled the line of mockery. Running your tongue along your lips to wet them, you leaned forward and took him into your mouth. His hand immediately buried itself in your hair, fisting the strands and causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes. He thrust forward, groaning and swearing.

His cock felt so large inside your mouth, stretching your lips, the head brushing along the roof of your mouth with his forward thrust and then dipping towards your tongue when he would pull back. You groaned around him, pulling a swear from the man. The next thrust had him down your throat, you gagging, your fingers clawing at his thighs. Kylo Ren held onto your head, fucking you with no concern of your well-being. You breathed heavily through your nose, panicking at the feeling of suffocating around him. His head was lolled back, his hips in constant motion as he sought release.

His seed spilled down your throat, and you swallowed every drop before at last the man released you. You desperately gasped for air, gulping down lungful after lungful of it. Kylo Ren tucked himself away before lowering into a crouch. You rubbed your throat and glowered at him, your expression faltering only when he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand.

“You are angry then,” you said, your throat raw and your voice hoarse. At long last did that visor point in a different direction. He stared at either the bed or the wall; you were uncertain which. “This isn’t a relationship, Ren. I’m your prisoner. You don’t love me. I don’t love you. You don’t own me!”

“Your body is just as replaceable as mine, tooke.” You hated how much his words stung. Kylo Ren stood, turning away from you and walking over to where he kept his datapad. He hit a few keys, pulling up a picture of the prisoner. Your blood ran cold. “You recognize him…” Before you could react, you felt him invading your mind, pulling up everything you knew about the man that was Poe Dameron, which thankfully wasn’t much. “The best pilot in the Resistance?” Mocking once more. Kylo Ren left your head, his boot steps filling the room as he circled you. “Even still you have your uses.”

“You won’t break him, Ren. You’re still trying to destroy me—you won’t be able to break him.”

“Do you want to feel it, tooke? Me breaking your mind?”

“Do your worst.” Kylo Ren’s knees hit the floor, his legs on either side of you, and his hand on the side of your head. You screamed at the pain that lanced through your brain. All the while his voice taunted you. Gentle caresses of words, him asking you questions that you tried to ignore so that no flashes of memory would rise to the surface. You started to throw up more walls, started to—sob when he asked, so nonchalant, how you would feel to watch him fuck another. And once more you were alone inside your head.

He had withdrawn so violently; obviously he had expected a reaction, yet nothing so strong. Had not thought he would see the truth lying there in your head. “Useless sentiment, tooke. Ben Solo is dead.” He had seen everything; the fantasy that you could return to General Organa with her son, that you had not ruined the chances for Ben Solo to be pulled to the surface. He had seen the tenderness you felt towards him in his calmer moments.

Kylo Ren seized you by your upper arm, pulled you to your feet, and dragged you into the refresher. You grit your teeth, still sobbing, as he once more undid the front of his robes. He leaned against the wall opposite the mirror, lifted your shirt up over your head, yet kept your arms hooked inside, and opened your legs so that you could see your reflection. You snarled at the sight—then moaned as he pinched your right nipple, rolling it, tugging at it. His other hand manipulated you so that his cock was between your legs, the head of his erection brushing against your cunt, your lower belly. You reached down, rubbing both it and yourself.

“Look at how much you’re mine, tooke.” You could see how wet you were for him. That he was aroused by your deep feelings for him, that it likely stirred within him a sensation of power, complicated you. “He doesn’t do this for you, does he, tooke? It’s convenient with him. But this…you need me. You miss me. You want me, tooke.” He wound an arm possessively around you, his hand caressing your side. You bit down on your bottom lip, pressing back into him. “I believe you, tooke—that you will try to destroy me whenever you can. Yet I know that you will always lose.”

As he spoke, he pushed up into you. You threw your head back, gasping and moaning, your hands flying backwards so that you could seize his hips. He moaned when you toyed with your clitoris, when you met his thrusts without complaint. Kylo Ren groped your chest, cupping your right breast, bouncing it in his hand. You stretched, bending over and bracing your free hand on the countertop. This new angle had him pushing more deeply into you.

You kept your eyes closed, General Hux’s words from earlier echoing inside your head. Ren has not the maturity to deal with emotions. Which is perhaps why he was so chaotic when dealing with you. The mixed emotions you felt, wanting to destroy him, wanting to save him—and for him, you were intended to be a fix, an object.

I can kill Kylo Ren by saving Ben Solo… I can’t save Ben Solo… He has to save himself… I don’t want to kill him… This is Leia’s son and sometimes I can see that. It would hurt her if he died, but I will, won’t I? If it comes down to it…

“Mm…don’t stop,” you moaned, working your clit faster while attempting to meet his brutal pace. He was undoubtedly choking up on the emotions, both yours and his.

I can’t save him…but if he breaks…if Kylo Ren breaks, then Ben Solo might be able to emerge…

You both cried out in orgasm, your bodies slumping against the ledge. The arm that had encircled you wound all the tighter, holding your body to his.

But he’s killed so many…how many did he kill while capturing Poe Dameron? Does he even deserve to be saved?

You set your hand atop his, keeping his arm around you. He held so tightly onto you, as though you were some sort of anchor, keeping him—from what? From being pulled to the light? From sinking completely into the darkness? Perhaps a mere reminder that he was human. This man who would shortly be moving on to do his damnedest to break Poe Dameron.

“It’s all so personal,” you murmured. His other arm moved around you as well. “He said it became personal.”

“In that she was hurt…betrayed…more deeply… I did not force you to attack her personally, tooke. That is not what Supreme Leader willed.”

Supreme Leader…as though he is a mindless puppet…

“If I tried to save you, could you resist me?” you asked softly. A dry, humorless chuckle. Kylo Ren pulled his body away from yours. You turned around as he was fixing his robes, and pulled your shirt back over your head, smoothing it down your body. “If I gave you that choice—to watch me try to save you or watch as I destroyed you, Ren… Could you truly resist it? The challenge? You’re a warrior. You would fight me on either count. Which battle are we choosing?”

“You’re suddenly so confident in your skills. Are the endorphins clouding your vision? Has adrenalin made you so foolish?”

“Endorphins, Ren?”

He shot forward like a blast, his hands on your wrists, twisting roughly so that the backs of your hands were facing you. He drew a line down your two ring fingers with his index fingers. You stared at the tattoos. At the way he tapped against the finger that held the name Ben Solo.

“Should I break it for you, tooke?” You tensed. “Remove it completely?”

“You fear it, Ren?” you asked after gathering your bearings. This time he stiffened. You leaned forward and kissed the digit that held his former name. “You fear love—and now I’m pitying you all over again. You’re right, you know? Me allowing the General to touch me again like that, how it means nothing. It’s just convenient. But with you…” He retreated from you, jerking away and twisting on his heel, marching out of the refresher.

You knew that he would gather himself by the time he arrived at whatever cell they were keeping Poe Dameron in. He was too familiar with masks to allow them to drop for too long.

Clutching your hand against your chest, the tattooed finger to your heart, you stared at the floor. “Don’t break, Poe. Don’t give into him. Force, don’t…don’t let him find that map. Please.”

You felt so ill, to know that your General had to be aware of her son’s path in life. She fought against him in her own way, however she would want him home. The part of you that had seen his moments of humanity—this part of you wanted him to return to being Ben Solo. Yet how you loathed him as well. It would never be so simple. All the lives he had ended. Your comrades, your mind screamed. You thought of how their ashes tasted.

If he can renounce his identity as Kylo Ren—if he became Ben Solo…would it make his death any easier for General Organa?

You licked your lips. How you missed the days when you only hated him, when you had not known his past life. It was easier to kill someone you hated than it was someone you pitied.

[I’d destroy myself before admit All the things I feel for you. We should kill one another, It’s the best thing we could do. Yet here we stand, both alive, Trying to find a new truth.]

[helbramstrauma-main]

Beach Days

Masterlist

Albert DaSilva x Reader

Modern Era: How many romantic cliches can I fit into a one-shot. A lot, but I am still proud of it.

Word Count 2636

Sophomore year is coming to a quick close. Classes are wrapping up and the failing air conditioner is becoming more of a problem. Although the end of a school year is always bittersweet, one of the best parts is the summer trip. Specifically planning it, last year Katharine's family let us use their lake house for two weeks. However this year we have all decided to pitch in a little more to rent a house on the beach.

We found an Airbnb less than a mile away from the beaches of Rehoboth. There was a small argument between Jack and Race on which beach to go to, but all of the rentals in Myrtle Beach are out of our price range. Deep down we all know it doesn't matter where we go, good times will always follow. 

Today at lunch we are making sleeping arrangements. Davey is big on maps, lists, and everything organized- without him, we would be lost. The bell rings signaling that lunch is starting.

"Y/n, stay after," my teacher says. Great, I am kind of in a hurry to get somewhere. I answer his question only half listening, and practically bolt out of his room. The hallways are not empty but are filled with extremely slow walkers, making me get to my destination even slower. It will be fine, I'm sure they won't start without me.

Once I made it to the lunch table I see Davey standing on his chair holding a book above Race, but I decide not to question it and instead take my spot next to Kathrine and Albert. Albert and I were practically instant friends, he is a year advance than me but were still in the same History my Freshman year. He helped me work out the winding halls if the schools, and we have been inseparable ever since. Recently though I have been trying to put a wall in-between us. It isn't that I don't like Albert, I just like him too much. Our relationship is completely platonic and I want to keep it that way, I cannot risk our friendship with my feelings. Although putting a wall between us will hurt our friendship temporarily it is better than ruining it completely with my one-sided feelings.

Race seemed to of lost interest in Davey's book as he takes his seat across from Albert. Jojo sits down in front of me and the rest of the boys eventually file in from the lunch line. I end up packing snacks throughout the day so lunch is more of a social period to me, rather than anything else.

Davey opens the book Race was trying to take to reveal a list of all of our names and how many people can fit in each room. Without dispute Jack and Kathrine claim the master bedroom, leaving us with five bedrooms and a pullout couch. Finch takes the couch because he doesn't want to wake anyone with his snoring. Davey claims the room with the two twins for him and Les. Crutchie takes the single room with another couch that Specs takes. Elmer, Romeo, and Mush claim the bunk beds with a single. Jojo and Race argue over who will get the top bunk in the bunk only room, while Spot claims he wants to bring a cot, so he "doesn't have to deal with anybody". All of this madness flies by leaving only one room left, the double. Albert and I are the only people without a bed, and people expected us to room together anyway. Therefore we were not claimed by any other group. I am not keen on having the smallest of the rooms though, makes me wonder how they fit two beds. At the same time, I am excited to be sharing with Albert even though I shouldn't be. I need to distance myself from him, but maybe being in close quarters with him will make me realize how unbearable he truly is.

A few weeks go by and eventually it is time for me to pack. Now is the time if I am going to be self-conscious about this or not. After about an hour of debating if I should go crop top or sweater, I decided on crop top because if I don't know I never will. Being a master procrastinator I manage to pack everything in under two hours. However, being paranoid I check my luggage every five minutes to make sure I remembered everything.

The next mourning I am anxiously waiting with my suitcase when I see Race's 2001 Saturn approach my driveway. He honks his horn probably waking up my neighbors so I run to the car not wanting to be confronted.

Only Race, Albert, and I were in the car as our luggage took up the rest of the space. To maximize space I sat on the passenger side seat in the back so the other seats could be collapsed. With Race's horrific driving skills it was relatively common for a suitcase to fall on me during the ride. Luckily the ride was only a little over three and a half hours so I didn't have to hear all of Race, and Albert's bickering for too long. Being in the backseat bars you from any conversation happening in the front seat, I didn't mind me time though. I will have plenty of time to talk to them once we arrive.

Although the ride wasn't long that didn't stop Albert form incrementally leaning his seat back more and more. At some point, I couldn't move my legs and I was practically squished against the door and the suitcases. Even though my situation was less than ideal, I couldn't help but blush at the situation. I rested my arms on either side of his seat, as they have nowhere else to go, and he arches his back just to look at me. This silent exchange is so intimate I could have sworn I saw him blush too. The moment is taken away prematurely due to Race's atrocious ability to drive. He swerves off of the highway onto the exit causing a suitcase to fall and crush me. All I could hear was the sound of Albert's laugh echo throughout the car.

I eventually get the fallen suitcase off of me and before I know it, we have arrived. Even though Race ignored the speed limit the whole way there we were still the last people to arrive. I grab my luggage and begin to explore the house with Davey as my tour guide. Once I struggle to bring my suitcase upstairs we eventually make it to the floor where my bedroom is, Davey and Les are the only other room on our floor, along with our shared bathroom. On the other side of the banister is the master with Jack and Kathrine. I open the door to reveal a small room with a dresser at the end of the bed. The room is barely wide enough to fit the mattress so you have to climb over the end of it to get in. I turn around expecting a similar situation but there is only a wall with a mirror.

What do you mean there is only one bed? It was listed as a double room on the website.

"Davey, where is the other bed? Isn't this the double room" I ask him, thinking he played a part in one of Romeo or Mush's pranks.

Davey laughs for a bit before answering me, "what do you think a double room is? It has a double mattress". Albert comes up the stairs carrying his suitcase followed by Jack. Davey and Jack make an awkward exit leaving Albert and me to unpack. We both laugh off the bed thing as a funny miscommunication but I couldn't help the blush on my face. A similar redness appears on Albert's face as we discuss the matter of the bed. He can't be sunburnt already?

Our room is incredibly small making it hard for Albert and me to maneuver around each other. Once I unpack all of my belongings, it is impossible to keep my suitcase in here as it takes up too much space, I throw my self onto the bed. Being able to stretch out a little more than I could in the car is nice. My space was soon halved as Albert did the same thing I did. His left side overlapping my own as we both stretch out. After a few minutes of a conversation, Specs opens the door to announce we are leaving for the beach in about an hour. I sigh and get up to retrieve my swimsuit. Looking at the options I brought I decide on some white high waisted bikini bottoms with a sunflower print top over a baby blue backdrop. It tied in the back and around the neck, so it was secure enough, to take Instagram photos in, but not much more. Even though the structural integrity of it was shaky at best, it still made me feel confident. Albert opts to change in the bathroom, so he could give me my privacy.

After I get my number on I am shamelessly taking photos in the full-length mirror, when I hear a knock at the door. I stop what I am doing to open the door to see Albert. He had to do a double-take before coming in. Usually, I would be disgusted but I let it slide because it gives me a little more confidence. Knowing that Albert thinks I look good is always an ego boost. He tells me that some of the boys are waiting downstairs and to go there when I am done. He decides to wait for me as I grab a hair tie and my black crochet cover-up. I can see him checking me out due to the reflection in the mirror, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. Albert is being a creepy but the attention is nice, especially since deep down, I know I want him to see me the way he is. I want to pursue a relationship with Albert, but the risk of losing his friendships keeps me from trying. However, that may change this trip if I keep seeing him look at me like he is right now.

Once we make our way downstairs I immediately spot Kathrine and stand by her, being the only two girls in the group have made us close. Therefore, I am about to tell her about all of my feelings towards Albert and ask for advice. Frankly, I would be lost without her, she gives the best advice, don't tell Davey I said that though. One the short walk to the beach Kathrine and I walk behind everybody else, so I can catch her up. Once I tell her my feelings she immediately lights up like she knows something. When I point it out though she plays dumb and doesn't give any details. Her advice is to simply go for it, and it will work itself out.

To be honest I don't think now is the right time to say I like him. For starters, I am terrified of rejection and on top of that, we are not only sharing a room but a bed as well. If he doesn't reciprocate my feelings it would make out sleeping predicament more uncomfortable than it already is. That being said, Kathrine seems extremely confident that Albert shares the same feelings.

Once we get to the beach I lay out my towel and take out my sun lotion. One time Race lit an aerosol one on fire and we have a strict no-spray rule now. Les is already building a sandcastle with Davey and Finch, while Romeo is desperately hitting on the passing girls. One day he is going to get punched, and he frankly deserves it. Specs and Crutchie are conversing with the local dogs while everyone else is either in the ocean or basking in the sunlight. I fall into the category of desperately looking for my sun hat which I know I forgot.

While I am leaning over in my beach back I feel an arm pull me off the ground. My eyes are closed out of shock but the laugh no debatably belongs to Albert. I try to squirm out of his grip but he is rapidly approaching the ocean and I don't have enough time to escape. After I realize this, I switch my strategy to comprise, begging for him to not get my hair wet. Once he is about waist-deep in the water I can tell that my pleads were not granted as his grip loosens around me. The cold water hits me as I am briefly submerged. My top withstood the fall which is a miracle but when I come up out of the water, I am looking for one thing, revenge.

I kick-off of the ground and splashing out of the water and latch onto his back. I know I can't pick him up so my only option is to bring him down. My arms latch onto his shoulders and he is thrashing about like a bull. Once he shook me off I quickly grab onto his torso bringing him with me. I was not thinking about collateral damage because he, in fact, fell on top of me.

After a while at the beach the sun begins to set the water becomes unbearably cold. The rest of the day is uneventful as people just want to go to bed after a long day of traveling. I hope in the shower to wash my hair, but if I make it quick as all of the hot water was gone. When I re-enter my room Albert is already laying on the bed checking his phone. He appears to type something before plugging it in beside mine, at the end of the bed. I crawl into bed but I don't go under the covers just yet. I throw my hair into a bun so it is easier to comb in the morning and then attempted to wiggle my way under the sheets. Our legs touch briefly before turning into a ball facing him. This causes Albert to laugh and do the same. Eventually, we become comfortable with the proximity and allow for our legs to touch.

A conversation sparks between the two of us and I can't keep track of time. The room is pitch black but I am still able to see the outline of Albert's face, we are incredibly close to one another.

"Seeing you today made me realize something," Albert says. This piques my interest and I prop myself up on my hands as he continues. "I can't pretend to be your friend anymore". My heart breaks into a million pieces, he isn't even my friend. I don't stop the tear the falls down my face, but I hold back the waterfall attempt to come out. "what I mean is, I want more. I can't pretend to just me your friend when I won't do much more. When I want to hold you all the time and call you pet names. I want that" Albert says all at once, noticing the shift in my mood. Kathrine was right, he would reciprocate my feelings! The tears threatening to come out retreat back as I am overcome with an overwhelming amount of joy.

All I manage to say in my joyous frenzie is, "then hold me".

Without hesitation, I feel out bodies press up against each other as our legs tangle. I instinctively nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck. I could get used to sleeping like this, I can get used to Albert.

[desiraypark]

Much Needed Assistance (4)

“Scrambled Brain” Previous (“Tonight”) Entire Work Characters: You know at this point lol Content: N*FW; a little torture? (use of the Force to search someone’s mind); first “full” sexual experience (as in, first time giving/receiving oral and first time getting those guts rearranged); a tad bit of dirty talk; reader realizing that there might be a special kind of dip on that Supreme Leader tip *monocle emoji* Word Count: 3,029 Check out my Master List!

Per usual, you spent the remainder of the day by your supervisor’s side. But your lusty desire had turned into nervousness as the hours passed. You never had time for intimacy—or rather, you never made time. As a teenager, you sought work to help alleviate your family’s financial struggles. You did just about everything—waited tables; collected and sold junk; worked at an emporium. Next thing you knew, you were being seduced by the First Order’s promise of a better life for anyone who wanted to work for them.    You became a member of their secretarial pool—and despite the destruction of damn near every base and ship they had the secretaries working on, the money was still just too good to pass up. Your family was your priority—your own future being the second. What did you want to do? You still had no clue. But too-tight shoes and a hand-me-down clothes weren’t going to be a part of it. As for romance? Nothing but a distraction, as far as you were concerned.   Now, here you were about to give your body to the most dangerous man in the galaxy. You couldn’t quite answer your own question: “Why him?”. One minute you were a dedicated secretary for the First (and Final) Order, the next you were Kylo Ren’s personal assistant and private finger warmer. Had he performed one of those Jedi mind-tricks on you? Did the sudden proximity to a powerful man turn your brain into scrambled eggs? You didn’t have time to dwell on it. You had notes to take, appointments to make, and demands to follow. The Final Order had three meetings a day, and after the third—always held at seven—everyone was left to their own devices, unless there was an emergency or some major task that required overtime. Some of the leaders, like General Pryde and Captain Undilla, happily worked longer hours. The same went for Ren. He would spend the rest of his evening making plans for the next day, week, or year—depending on his mood—and he would lead himself in his own training and workout before bed. Tonight, was almost no different. With his helmet removed and face emotionless as ever, you served him a hot dinner from the mess hall and kept the ginger tea flowing as he looked over maps of the galaxy, deciding what planets he wanted to explore. Or invade. Then, you went over the minutes from the day’s meetings. When he went to the gym to train, you keyed the minutes into his datapad, as well as new appointments into his calendar. Then, you transferred the information to your own datapad.    At about eleven, you drew his bath water and turned down his bed. You always had to make sure you ran his bath water at the right time, because for some gods-forsaken reason, he would only bathe in tepid water. As his bedtime came closer, you became antsier about the night, and hoped he’d forget the night’s “special plans”.    You were sitting at the dining table jiggling your leg when he came in at about 11:15. His hair was drenched with sweat, his face and body red. You stood up and he walked straight to the bathroom.    “Your bath is ready, sir. And all the information is in your datapad,” you said. He didn’t say anything—which wasn’t unusual. You grabbed your own datapad and your paper notepad, walked out the door, and prepared for bed with the lifting of your hair into a pineapple; a shower; the smoothing of lotion on your skin, and the slipping into your silk nightgown. You did a quick meditation and pulled your covers back. Just as you stepped into your bed, you heard the light beep of your entry keypad, and your doors opened. Ren’s silhouette filled your door frame. You swallowed and sat up in the bed.

“Yes, Sir?” “What are you doing?” he asked. “Um…going to bed, Sir…” “I’m certain I requested your presence in my quarters tonight…” “Yes, Sir.” He walked away from the door. Heart racing, you rose from your bed, left your room, and stepped out into the hallway. A Stormtrooper looked in your direction, but you quickly dropped your chin—watching the black marble floor beneath you until a threshold appeared. He stood by the door wearing only a robe and closed the blast doors behind you. Very lightly, he grabbed your chin and turned your face toward him. “You’re scared.” He wasn’t asking if you were. Your eyes fell to the floor and he chuckled. “All of the little scenarios you’ve played in that filthy mind of yours today, and now you’re scared of the real thing?”    He tilted your chin some more, so that your eyes met his. “Why?” You swallowed. “I don’t know, Sir…” He stared at you for a few seconds, then suddenly, you felt a light twinge in your brain. You winced and took a baby step away from him. “Shh…” he whispered. “It’s okay…” He rubbed the back of your head, where flattened curls rose upward into a hair tie. “Hmm, I can see why you don’t know. Do you ever turn this brain of yours off?” he asked. You were too busy grimacing to answer him. “I understand…” he continued. “You’re scared of what people will say. Especially your parents. Hmm. I’ll teach you how to grow out of that…” “It hurts, Sir…” you whimpered. “I know. It’ll be over soon. I need to indulge my curiosity...” He rubbed your cheek.    “And you’re scared of not pleasing me. So much conflict, sweet girl…”    What sounded like genuine concern filled his last statement, and finally, he let your brain go. You tipped backward, but he grabbed you and set you straight. He looked over your face, then his darkened eyes moved downward. He fondled your left breast, then the right, and bit his lip. In your peripheral, you could see your own breasts moving up and down with each breath you took. He looked into your worried eyes.    “I will teach you how to please me,” he said. He tugged at the straps of your nightgown and pulled them down. Then, he grabbed the material over your breasts, and pulled at it until the gown fell to your feet on its own accord. Your arms instinctively shot up and covered your breasts. He smirked, then tugged at your bikini underwear. “Pull these down,” he commanded. You reached for the elastic band and yanked at your underwear. “Slowly…” You slowly pulled your underwear down over your thighs; your knees; your calves, then your ankles. They nestled inside of your gown and you stepped out of your puddle of garments. You covered your breasts again, and he moved your hands out of the way. His eyes scanned all of you—your curly hair; your eyes; your lips—down to your breasts, your belly, and the fleshy mound over your thighs. “Walk to my room.” Once again, you swallowed your own saliva, and walked toward your supreme leader’s bedroom—fleshy and naked. You felt his eyes burning into you. You looked at the bedding you’d pulled back over an hour ago—untouched and welcoming. You turned around and watched him swagger into the bedroom with a stoic expression—his robe was in the main room, inches away from your nightgown. Your eyes made their way down to his underwear—and you saw the firm imprint fighting to claw its way out. You looked back up. “You look better than I imagined,” he said.    You blushed and he walked to you, closer and closer until your bodies touched—but he didn’t stop. You stepped backward until you fell on his bed. Then, he laid his body down beside yours. The tips of his fingers dragged along your sternum, down your stomach, and over your mound—he rubbed his fingers over the low-cut hair that covered it. You felt your clit slowly pushing through your outer lips—aching for his touch. “Don’t be scared,” he repeated. His hand slithered back up your body and around your neck, but he didn’t squeeze. “I won’t hurt you.” Next, his hand slithered up your neck and to your chin. He rubbed his index finger over your plump bottom lip, and gently pulled it down. A menacing grin formed on his face. “I’m going to make such a little slut out of you.” A whimper fell from your lips and you gyrated against the air. Then, you surprised your own self, when you dropped your top lip over Ren’s finger. He bit his lip and pushed his finger all the way inside of your mouth—and you stroked it with your tongue. “Mmm…you’re learning already…” he looked down at you and noticed your hard nipples. He dipped downward and he flicked his tongue against your right nipple. You moaned over his finger, and he sucked at your breast—pulling in as much of it as he could. Then, he leaned over and repeated the action on your left breast. He moaned over your flesh. “How does the rest of you taste, Sweet Girl?” he asked. He pulled his finger from your mouth and dropped to his knees before you. When he pried your legs apart, you felt your stickiness separated itself—and cool air hit your glazed clit. With the same finger that was in your mouth, he rubbed your wet entrance and your clit, then he pushed his finger into your direction. You lifted onto your elbows and sucked your tangy juice off his finger. 

Then, with his warm tongue, he ran a slow, long, wet stripe against your clit. You fell back onto the mattress with a sense of…relief. He licked around your clit as though he were licking an ice cream cone. The sounds of him licking, sucking, and lapping against your fleshy rose echoed throughout the room—causing you to grind against his lips.    “Mmmmm…” he hummed into your pussy. “Mmmmm…” you accidentally echoed. He pulled his lips away, rubbed your thighs, and stared at his work. All four of his thick fingers rubbed against your folds, and you ground against them. “So wet for me. Am I really your first?” he asked, rubbing and rubbing—teasing is what it really was. You gyrated and whimpered. “Yes, Sir…” “Mmm…” he repeated. He licked circles around your clit but pulled away again. “Kylo. Kylo for tonight…” Your heart fluttered. “Say it.” His lips wrapped around your clit, and he inhaled like we wanted your pussy down his throat. “Mmm! Kylo…” “Say it again.” “Kylo…” you whimpered.    His tongue traveled down to your slit, then back up to your clitoris, where he gave the bud one last suck—long, slow, and excruciating. Then, he rose to his feet and tugged on his underwear. From your comfortable position, you hid your excitement as you watched his long dick bounce up and down before settling in one place—pointing forward and dripping with precum. He pulled his underwear all the way down then sat down beside you, stroking his dick.

“Look,” he commanded, but with a softness in his voice. You sat up on your elbows and observed his firm dick as he stroked it. “Do you like what you see?” Desire warmed your body, slowly taking over the fear that once filled your blood. “I do…”   You bit your lip and he groaned. “I like the way you bite that beautiful lip of yours…” he said with a heavy and breathy voice. You could tell that he really didn’t process the sentence before he let it out. One moment of humanity--of Kylo Ren being lost in his own pleasure.  “Show me what else you can do with those lips.” Fear crept through your blood again. “Don’t be scared. I…will teach you…how to please me.” You sat up, licked your lips, and leaned into his lap. Right away, you realized that you probably wouldn’t be comfortable, so you did as he did, and got on the floor. A chill ran up your spine as your knees touched the cold marble, but you positioned yourself more comfortably, took his dick in your hand, the firm and tender muscle it was, and took the head into your mouth. You heard him shudder and felt the dip in the mattress as he rested his hands beside his hips.    “Don’t be scared,” he repeated. And suddenly, he was pressing your head down. You gagged as the head of his dick hit your throat, then he grabbed your curly puff and pulled you off. “Now rub your spit all over it.”    You did as you were told. Slowly, you rubbed your saliva over his dick—from the shaft to the head, and back down. You glanced up at him for his approval, and he only stared at you with a lustful—but somehow, still blank—expression.    “Please me, Sweet Girl,” he said.    You curled your lips over your teeth and sucked him slow—warm lips slid over his circumference, and you listened for more approval—a grunt, or a groan. “I know you can get dirtier than this,” he said with husk in his voice. “Don’t be gentle. I want your hands covered in saliva.” You didn’t know why, and you didn’t know how, but he pushed a button in you. You pulled your mouth away, took a deep breath, and pushed drool between your lips. Then, you let it fall onto the head of his dick and you stroked it over his member’s entirety—making it (and your hands) glossy. Finally, you releaxed yourself and went to work. You sucked and slobbered over his flesh as if it were your first meal in weeks—you thought about the things he did to your pussy: the flicks, and sucks, and vibrating “mmm’s”, and you mimicked him, as much as possible.   Finally, you heard him moan and groan and rumble and grumble over you. He grabbed your hair once more, and gently motioned you over his head and shaft. He didn’t push you all the way down as he did earlier, but you took it upon yourself to give it a second try. You inhaled as much of him as you could, then pulled your lips away. You got a look at his balls and noticed they were looking dry. His musky scent floated through your nostrils as you licked and sucked on the sack, then, you made a warm, wet trail back up the shaft and to the tip.    He took hold of your chin, making you look up at him with wide eyes. “Lay down.” You stood up and laid beside him—feet hanging over the side. But with one hand, he grabbed your legs, and rotated your body so that you were stretched vertically across his bed. He pressed his knee into the mattress and leaned between your legs. As he hovered over you, he planted kisses on your neck and your collarbone. And as he traveled back up your neck, you felt the painful intrusion through your center. You winced and inadvertently yanked your hips back, but he grabbed your thigh and held your leg up by the back of your knee.    Kylo worked his inches into you slowly, lips never leaving your skin. You ached for him to kiss your lips, but he traveled everywhere but there. At a suspenseful pace, Kylo finally pushed all of himself into you. You gasped and your hands flew to his chest. He grabbed your other thigh, and just as he did with the first, held it up so that both of your legs were in his grasp. At a waltz’s pace, he stroked your soaked walls with his own soaked dick—the initial pain finally subsiding. Your hands slid down to his torso and you stared into his eyes.    “That’s it…you nasty girl…” he mumbled unwittingly. He pulled his dick out and watched your juices come out with it, then he pushed all of himself back in—a lusty cry left your throat. “Is this what you think about when you go to sleep at night? My dick stretching your tight pussy open?” he asked. “Yes, Kylo…yes…” you moaned. Kylo grunted and closed your legs around his waist. Then, he leaned forward and plowed into you. You squealed and dug your fingers into his back as the sensation of a filled belly radiated throughout your entire body. Your slapping skins echoed throughout the quarters—harmonizing with your hitched screams and groans.    “Fuccckkkk!” you shouted. Kylo pulled your head back to look down at you with a ravenous grin. He plowed into you--sack going slap! slap! slap! slap! against your skin. You suddenly realized how much your breasts were flopping all over the face. “There you go…” he growled. He traced the outline of your lips with his index finger. “A filthy mouth to match that filthy brain of yours. Do you want to cum on my dick?” “Yes, Kylo! Please!” He moved his hand away from your face, sat up, and rubbed your clit with the side of his thumb as his dick went in and out…in and out…in and out. Your heart started to race, as heat covered your body. As the nectar squelched from your you, images of you sitting on a throne—dressed in a red gown and dripping with jewels—flashed in your mind. Just as soon as the images came, they went—leaving you with a throbbing clit, but a scrambled brain. You came out of your daze just into time to notice Kylo’s dick over you, and ropes of his hot seed pouring over your breasts. He fell beside you, pulled your face to his, and devoured your mouth with his own. Almost like he’d put a spell on you, you closed your eyes, threw your arms around his neck, and gave his tongue a good fight with your own. The two of you pulled away from each other, both taking a moment to catch your breath. Then, you sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed, and walked out of his room and into the bathroom. You grabbed a clean washcloth and walked to the sink with it. As you wet the cloth, you stared at your reflection—cum over your tits, and your irises appearing darker than usual…

[pulveremcomedesligulas]

Change of Hands

So this is a little 2.3k thing I wrote based off the lovely art from @liccy on tumblr!! When I first saw the Hyrule holding Wild picture in this post I had a lot of emotions. And while this isn't the original idea Liccy had when she made the drawing (as it was made as a sequel to this beautiful art piece by @scribbs-dibbs [who I unfortunately can’t tag, but I send them my love!]) my brain kinda ran away with this idea so I had to write it.

I totally recommend everyone go check out both of these amazing artists' works, because they are both awesome and deserve love.

Also, Liccy, thank you so much for letting me write for your beautiful art! It has been so much fun and an absolute honor.

Cross-posted on ao3

Now onto the story!!

* * * 

It was supposed to be a normal dungeon. No one had expected anything… off about it. Wild and Hyrule had even gotten permission to explore it.

It should’ve been fine.

And it was, until they got to about three quarters of the way through and were met with a figure in a dark crimson robe standing - no, floating - a few paces in front of them.

It confused them both, because they’d already beaten the mini-boss of the dungeon, and they hadn’t gotten to the point of finding the boss key yet, so reason would say that this was a normal enemy.

Except it didn’t look like any of the enemies either had ever faced before.

“Hero of Hyrule, Hero of the Wild,” said a voice from the cloaked figure. The voice had no identifiable features, sounding ethereal and ancient in a way that sent shivers down both of the heroes’ spines the with dark power it radiated. “You hold the golden power that I seek, and the divine blessing carried by those chosen of the Goddess Hylia. Surrender to me now that I may obtain these both.”

Wild didn’t miss the small gasp from Hyrule at the mention of a ‘golden power’, nor did he overlook the way Hyrule’s right hand hovered closer to his left.

But neither of them responded to the figure’s demands beyond both readying their weapons.

“You have chosen to not surrender,” the voice said. “And with this choice, your lives are now forfeit.”

…

Wild wasn’t sure how long ago their initial encounter with the cloaked figure had been. All he knew is that he and Hyrule had been running through the rooms of the dungeon (now enchanted by the figure - who had to be a sorcerer, Hyrule had said - to move and change so the map they had both worked hard to find was now useless.

Poisonous gas flooded through the chambers, settling about knee high off the ground, but still managing to seep into their bodies, slowly draining both their health and energy.

Surges of enemies they had already killed off came back to attack them, and traps they had already disarmed appeared at the worst times to add to the damage.

Wild had already had to rely on Mipha’s Grace once to heal himself, and even with doing that, he could feel his health still steadily decreasing. Hyrule was in just as bad, if not worse shape, having used a great deal of his power to get them away from the sorcerer’s initial attacks and to heal himself once when he was on death’s door.

At one point, Hyrule stumbled, and Wild was barely able to catch him in time to keep him from falling face first into the poison layer at their feet.

There was a small ledge a few feet away from where they stood, peeking up above the poison. Wild quickly moved Hyrule over to the ledge, helping his friend climb up onto the ledge and settle his back against the cavern wall.

“We need to rest,” Wild said, trying to prop Hyrule up as best as he could.

“We can’t stop,” Hyrule protested, despite his eyes sliding closed. “The sorcerer will find us.”

Wild knew he was better off than Hyrule, and he hated it. Mipha would keep healing him every time his health got too low. But she couldn’t heal Hyrule - Wild had already begged for her to, and even though Mipha was willing, her powers just didn’t work like that.

“Just a few minutes,” Wild insisted. “I’m sure I have a potion or…”

He paused as he noticed the faint flicker of golden light coming from Hyrule’s left hand.

“Uh, ‘Rule, what is that?”

Hyrule blinked his eyes open and looked in alarm to where Wild had gestured. When he realized what it was, he gave a defeated sort of chuckle and moved to take off the bracer that covered the back of his hand.

“That,” he said. “Is the ‘golden power’ the sorcerer is trying to kill us for.”

Wild stared in amazement at the flickering golden light of the complete Triforce on the back of Hyrule’s hand.

“You… You didn’t tell us,” Wild said softly.

“I couldn’t,” Hyrule answered. “I… I’ve been betrayed and hunted too many times for this. I was terrified to let anyone know… at first. I wanted to tell you all but…” Hyrule gave a weak cough before grimacing.

“Can it heal you?” Wild asked. He admittedly didn’t know much about the Triforce. He knew his Zelda had wielded its power before, but beyond that…

Hyrule shook his head. “I don’t have the energy to wield it right now. It’s flickering like this because it knows we’re in danger, but…”

He didn’t have the chance to finish before the ground began to shake around them. Behind where Hyrule sat, the wall began to crumble and give way, falling into a dark, black abyss behind them. Wild cried out in alarm as the ground beneath Hyrule began to fall away as well.

Hyrule looked up at Wild with a look of fear in his eyes right before he was sent plummeting into the abyss.

Wild barely had time to process it before he was reacting - springing forward and grabbing Hyrule’s outstretched left hand right as he fell. He held Hyrule suspended in the air above a seemingly bottomless ravine below.

“Hold on, I’ll pull you up!” Wild called, tightening his grip on Hyrule’s hand.

But the poisonous cloud had risen in with the shaking ground, and was now slowly creeping up the length of Wild’s stomach where he lay holding tightly to his friend. The gas burned his eyes, nose, and throat even as he tried to close them off against it.

“Give in, little heroes,” the voice of the sorcerer intoned behind Wild. “Give in.”

Wild could feel his health draining as the poison clouded around him. He couldn’t give in. He had to save Hyrule.

“Wild, you can’t,” Hyrule said. His voice was weak, the increased flow of poison reaching him as it tumbled off the end of the cliff. “You can’t save me now.”

“I’m not going to let you go,” Wild growled. He could feel tears coming to his eyes that weren’t from the poison. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose anyone. Never again.”

Wild could barely see Hyrule shake his head through the tears and gas.

“I’m sorry, but this time you have to.”

Wild felt Hyrule squeeze his hand, and with it came a flood of power that Wild never expected. The power coursed up his right arm with an explosive force, tearing away Wild’s sleeve as swirls of golden light danced up the limb.

The power took Wild by surprise, and forced his hand open, releasing his hold on Hyrule.

“NO!” Wild screamed, not able to see as Hyrule fell but already feeling that piece of his heart (the ⅛ he had given to Hyrule, just as he had given the same to each of the others in his new family) shattering.

A dark chuckle sounded behind Wild and he turned his head to see the sorcerer standing there.

“It seems that there is only one life left for me to take now,” they said. “Then the golden power will be mine.”

At the mention of the golden power, Wild dropped his eyes down to stare at his hand. There, shining brightly and radiating more power than Wild could ever imagine, was the symbol of the Triforce, glowing and whole.

Hyrule had given it to him, wanting him to protect it.

And Wild would.

“Please,” he whispered to the power now flooding his veins. “Please lend me your strength.”

With a flash of brilliant light, Wild felt the power of the Triforce surge. He couldn’t help the yell that tore from his throat as he targeted the power at the sorcerer.

The sorcerer embodied darkness and all that chosen of Hylia stood against. Wild raised his hand, glowing with the divine power of the Golden Goddesses, and willed the darkness to be purged.

The light flared and an ear-splitting shriek echoed through the room as the Triforce burned away the spells and their source with a fury that threatened to overwhelm Wild. But it was over within seconds, dimming down and revealing an empty chamber exactly as it was before the sorcerer had appeared. The broken wall and floor were both repaired and there was no other sound beyond Wild’s labored breathing and the rapid beating of his heart.

Wild fell to his knees, holding his hand tightly to his chest. He’d defeated the enemy, made everything back to how it should be.

He’d won.

But it wasn’t enough. Despite the victory, Wild still felt hollow. Looking at his hand again, he couldn’t hold back the choked sob.

He hadn’t been able to save Hyrule. He’d let Hyrule fall. He couldn’t save him.

He had failed. And now… now he was alone.

Again.

He couldn’t go back to the others… not without Hyrule. He couldn’t… couldn’t face them. Not when he knew what they would say.

It was his fault. He’d let it happen.

Sure, some of them would try to reassure him with false words. Twilight and Four and Time would probably all say he did his best. Wind would offer him a hug and Sky a shoulder to cry on. Warriors would probably just give him that look of understanding that was one that seasoned soldiers all understood. And Legend…

Gods he knew he couldn’t face Legend. He’d just let Legend’s protege - the only other one from Legend’s timeline and the only one of their group that Legend had actually easily been able to open up to - fall to his death.

Just another person to add to the list of people that Wild’s failures had taken someone important from, he guessed.

Wild knew he wasn’t going to be able to go back to them. He couldn’t face the reactions they would give him. Which meant…

He was alone again.

Another sob ripped from his throat as he opened his eyes - not having realized they had been closed - and stared at the still glowing mark on his hand.

“Can’t you bring him back?” he begged. “He was your chosen protector after all. Can’t you bring him back?”

“That’s unfortunately not a power the Triforce has,” a voice said from behind Wild. The champion hero’s head flew up to see Hyrule standing there, a small smile on his face. He looked beaten up still, sporting several cuts and bruises on his face, but he was there. With a watery laugh, he continued “It can’t bring someone back from a certain death of falling off a cliff… at least not on its own. It needs a particularly determined wielder to be able do something like that.”

Wild let out some type of cry as he leapt to his feet and threw himself at Hyrule, successfully knocking the other to his ass.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hyrule said. “I’m here.”

Wild buried his face deeper into Hyrule’s tunic, gripping it tightly like a lifeline as he sobbed.

“You were gone,” he whispered. “You… I couldn’t save you. I failed and I couldn’t… I didn’t want to be alone again.”

Another sobbed ripped from him and he tightened his grip, trying to convince himself that Hyrule was there. He wasn’t imagining this. He was there.

Wild felt tears drop down onto his head as Hyrule lifted his hands to his hair, pulling him closer.

“It’s okay,” Hyrule murmured softly. “You did what you had to, and it turned out okay. You didn’t fail. And I promise, you aren’t going to be left alone.”

Soft fingers combed through the looser strands of his hair as Wild let out a shaky breath, feeling his energy draining as he sank in Hyrule’s hold.

“You’re not alone Wild,” Hyrule said quietly. “We aren’t going to leave you alone. I swear it.”

…

After taking some time to recover, they left the dungeon pretty quickly. The others were waiting for them, worried looks on each of their faces. They had felt the surge of the Triforce’s power, and hadn’t known what to think.

Wild and Hyrule had explained as best as they could, as well as explaining that Wild was now the one who would be the protector of the Triforce from that point on.

It had been hard to explain, and Wild hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone the real reason he was still torn up.

He couldn’t admit that when he hadn’t been able to save Hyrule from falling… he felt like he had failed again. That he was alone again.

But that night as he cooked dinner for his friends, he remembered Hyrule’s words.

That he hadn’t failed.

That he wasn’t alone.

And he realized that those words were true.

He hadn’t failed.

He wasn’t alone.

Wild looked up at the others scattered around the campsite. Twilight and Warriors were in the middle of a sparring match that Wind was intently watching. Four and Time were carefully looking over the various pieces of the group’s equipment, murmuring quietly to each other and making note of the different pieces that needed repairs. Sky was leaned up against a tree, a piece of wood and his carving knife in hand as he whistled a peaceful tune. Legend had pulled Hyrule to the side and currently was fussing over the various injuries that Hyrule had.

Wild watched them, and knew that he had all pieces of his heart again, together and whole.

It was enough to bring a smile to his face.

But not enough to let Hyrule convince him to help with dinner.

They’d both had enough poison for one day, after all.

[ilovemygaydad]

title: the pirate king and la princesa

pairings: pre-romantic analogical

summary: a new pirate has invaded logan’s pirating territory, and that simply won’t do

warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda), nothing is historically or factually accurate, this exists in a made up time because i don’t care and also i said so, swearing, pirates, probably some shitty google translated spanish, caps a couple of times, shouting, a sword is very briefly mentioned, i definitely don’t know how boats work, i absolutely don’t know much about pirates, threats, mentions of alcohol, virgil kisses logan without asking but they both like it so? it’s your call, stealing, and possibly something else

a/n: this was so @fandomsandanythingelse would get her phone fixed, which ended up not needing to be done. i fell in love with this universe anyway so here you go. pirates analogical with enemies to... something resembling lovers. it sort of counts...

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-

Logan supposed that, since they were out on the open ocean, there was no such thing as “turf.” A person isn’t able to own a part of the ocean, no matter how much they sailed it.

That being said, however, Logan didn’t give a fuck about technicalities because some new pirate decided to encroach on HIS turf. Everyone who’d spent any time in piracy knew that the areas near the eastern coast of America was where Logan Bonny and Logan Bonny alone operated. Call him territorial, but Logan had made himself a name on the sea for a reason, and when some newbie came along and tried to threaten his place... Well, that certainly couldn’t continue.

He’d found out about the other pirate through his crew, who had been whispering about the mysterious stranger they’d heard about during their last trips to the mainland. Virgil Castillo. Captain of La Princesa. Apparently, he had only joined the pirate scene just over a year ago in Spain but had recently made the voyage over to America to avoid the Spanish Navy. That in and of itself would have been completely fine--Logan had been in his fair share of trouble with the law, and he didn’t fault others for needing to flee--but this... Castillo guy just had to decide to start raiding ships in Logan’s turf. He had beat Logan to multiple ships that would have given them helpful supplies for all of the crew members, which just made him more frustrated.

Logan had spent years cultivating enough of a reputation to earn his spot as the “Pirate King of the East Coast,” and he wasn’t about to let Virgil Castillo and the crew of La Princesa take that from him.

“Hey, Cap, wanna stop your brooding so we can get on course for our next destination?” Logan’s first mate, Roman, teased from the doorway of his quarters.

“I’m not brooding, Roman,” he snarled half-heartedly as he gathered his things into a neat pile and stood. “I’m not a child.”

“No, of course not. I’m sorry that I ever insinuated that you’re a petulant, irritating child.”

Logan gave Roman a sharp clap on the shoulder. “Apology accepted.”

---

It took about three months for Logan to cross paths with his self-proclaimed nemesis. Too soon, yet not soon enough. 

Logan had been sitting in the darkest, quietest corner of a tavern (which was to say that it was extremely dark and not even moderately quiet) looking over a few charts and maps while his entire crew celebrated their latest success. He had never particularly enjoyed loud, rambunctious festivities regardless, and it just made sense to spend the time looking over his plans earlier and sober instead of hungover and at the last minute. 

Or he was a “party pooper” as Roman had called him. Whichever shoe fit.

“When I had heard about ‘Pirate King of the East Coast,’ I imagined someone a bit more... interesting,” someone with a thick Spanish accent said across from Logan.

Insulted, he glanced up and found a tall, elaborately dressed man with thick, dark hair and even darker eye makeup. It only took him a moment to realize who he was looking at.

“Virgil Castillo.”

The man smiled brightly, showing off his stupidly perfect teeth. “The one and only. I was unaware that you knew of me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Logan snarked. “It wouldn’t take a fool to know that you’ve been sailing in my territory.”

Virgil hummed and sat down in the chair next to his, which was equal parts astounding and frustrating.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to work.” His arms protectively hovered over his papers to make sure that the opposing pirate wouldn’t try to steal his plans. 

“No, I don’t mind.”

Logan blinked a few times at the absolute nerve of this man. His mouth hung open in awe for a moment, but it was gently shut by a finger pushing up on his chin.

“Do not worry; I am not here to steal your plans. Eres muy guapo y quiero sentarme contigo.”

“I don’t know what that means...”

Inexplicably, Virgil leaned closer; his cool hand moved up to cup the side of Logan’s jaw. “You seem like a smart man. I’m sure that you will be able to figure it out in a moment.”

Logan’s body felt frozen as the other pirate closed the gap between them, gently pressing their lips together in a kiss. Holy shit, Logan was kissing his greatest enemy. Even worse--if things even could get worse--he felt himself moving to kiss back.

As soon as the kiss began, it was over. Virgil’s face hovered close for a few moments, which really solidified what had just happened in Logan’s mind, before he stood and took a few steps back. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. They stared at each other’s faces, and Logan was very glad that both the dim lights and his dark complexion masked most of the heat in his face.

“Until next time, Logan,” Virgil said with a quick two-fingered salute. In the time that it took Logan to blink, he was gone, leaving the pirate to sit and contemplate what the hell had just happened.

It was either a few seconds or a few hours before Logan was shocked out of his reverie by a hand placing itself on his shoulder. He blinked, and Roman’s face came into focus a foot away. Roman looked concerned, which was an odd thing to see on the normally careless man.

“Jeez, Cap. You looked like you were in some other dimension for a minute. I saw a guy walking away from here--did he do something to you? Who was he?”

“Virgil Callisto,” Logan choked out. “He kissed me.”

A huffed laugh escaped Roman’s lips as the captain glanced down at the table. “He kissed you?”

Logan nodded, but his face shifted into a scowl just as fast. “Son of a bitch!”

“What? A kiss isn’t that bad. He was pretty, too--”

“No, Roman,” he cut off, standing. “He fucking stole my telescope!”

“Oh shit.”

---

“Pat, we have to leave. Now, preferably,” Virgil commanded in Spanish as he hopped back onto the small vessel he used when he wanted to go to shore to avoid his ship being recognized. Patton had opted to stay onboard while Virgil explored the town, which was fine now that Virgil had royally fucked up.

“What? Why?” The small man began to untie the boat from the dock, but he shot a confused look at his captain.

“I met Logan Bonny.”

Patton gasped in surprise. “Really?”

“I may or may not have kissed him,” Virgil said sheepishly as he helped his first mate.

“Aw, good for you! I’m so proud, Virgil--”

“I also may have stolen his telescope...”

Patton’s movements immediately halted, and he looked at Virgil with what could only be described as faux cheer. “You did what?”

“I, um...” Virgil took the ornate looking glass out of his coat pocket, shyly holding it out for the other to see. “I swiped it by accident.”

“You STOLE the most FEARED PIRATE of the East Coast’s BELOVED TELESCOPE?!” Patton screeched like an offended mother.

“I got scared!”

A loud groan echoed through the quiet night as Patton buried his face in his hands. “Virgil, I cannot believe that you messed this up so badly.”

“Believe it, Patton. I am an idi--”

“VIRGIL CASTILLO, YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!”

Virgil’s eyes went wide as he recognized the voice and swiftly sliced the remaining ties with his sword. They could replace the ropes, but Virgil’s life wasn’t so replaceable.

“Okay, let’s go before I’m murdered, please!”

Patton smacked his arm as he rounded to the sail. “This is what you get for stealing!” 

“Literally all we do is steal! We’re pirates!” Virgil argued, pushing off of the dock.

A sharp, warning look graced Patton’s normally gentle features as he regarded the captain. “Don’t test me.”

Just as Logan’s feet began to pound down the wooden dock, the ropes of the sail let out, and the wind set them out in time to be out of reach.

“I will find you, Castillo! Mark my words!” Logan shouted.

A cheeky grin wormed its way onto Virgil’s face as he replied in English, “I’m looking forward to it, mi querido!”

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - CH 43 - Glitz

Stepping out onto the platform, Payne couldn’t help but chuckle as Hancock wobbled on shaky legs. The movement of the monorail had played quite a trick on his equilibrium.

“No sea legs, eh boss?”

“Some people think ghouls aren’t meant to fly.”

Strong frowned as he passed by Hancock. “Ghoul not flying. Ghoul standing.”

Payne wrapped an arm around Hancock. “He’s got a point!”

“Ah, shut up! I’m fine!” He sat down on a bench. “Just give me a sec. I’m not used to the floor moving all around like that… at least when I’m not buzzed.”

Nate turned to the group, a serious look plastered on his face. “Now, I’ve got some ground rules. Here, in Nuka-World, I am the Overboss. There are three extremely large and deadly raider gangs I’m in charge of. They’ve been warned that I am bringing in some friends from the Commonwealth. They should leave you alone… but don’t push your luck. I’m trying to…” He paused, thinking of the right words. “…free a population of enslaved traders here with as little blood shed as possible. They are completely under the raider’s thumb. If things go sideways, a lot of innocent people will be caught in the crossfire.”

“Okay, don’t start any fights. Got it.” Payne could tell Hancock wasn’t thrilled but agreed.

Nate continued. “Second, you need to stay in the main parks. Don’t go wandering off into the bush. There are a lot of nasties out there… shit a lot bigger and deadlier than what we have in the Commonwealth. If I have to report to Fahrenheit that a cave cricket ate you, I have a feeling my head would end up on a pole.”

Hancock agreed. “I can see that rubbing her the wrong way.”

“Lastly,” His glare brightened into a smile. “Enjoy yourselves. There is a lot of stuff here to do. You have three days to explore the parks, but don’t forget to take some time to relax! Especially you!” He pointed a finger at Payne. “It’s no secret what you went through while this lug was taking his extended nap.”

Payne shooed him while she readjusted the bag on her shoulder. “Enough talking. Let’s get going! At least… if you can manage to walk.” She ribbed Hancock.

“Bah!” Hancock stood up. “I thought you wanted to spend your whole vacation in the parking lot.”

As they made their way across the vast empty expanse of pavement, Payne couldn’t contain herself as she passed under the giant marquee. She felt like her smile reached from ear to ear. As they walked by, groups of raiders would spot Nate, turn and nod at the Overboss.

“Let’s head over to the map so you guys can get your bearings.” Nate started to shuttle them around to a raised dais when they crossed paths with a giant walking cola bottle. It raised a rusted oversized gloved hand.

“Well, hello there, young lady! Welcome to Nuka-World!” a cheerful voice buzzed over a tinny internal speaker. “I’m N.I.R.A., your friendly Nuka-World Informational Robotic Assistant. Is this your first visit to Nuka-World?”

Payne snorted and smiled. “I’m not sure ‘young’ is the right way to describe me.”

“You know, a lot of people say just the same thing. The way we see it, everyone who steps through that gate is a child at heart. Now, before you set off on our grand Nuka-adventure, let me tell you about…” A strange electronic noise emitted from the robot, it’s arms shaking with some internal glitch.

“Error. System Malfunction.” The cheerful voice dropped an octave. “Are you finished wasting my time, you filthy, low-life scavver? Cause I’m getting bored, and when I get bored, I get violent!”

Payne’s eyes widened with surprise. “Ah… what?”

“Aw, what’s wrong, dirtbag? Too hopped up on chems to understand English? Or just too stupid? Well, I think you heard me just fine.” A grating tone interrupted N.I.R.A.’s tirade.

“System restored.” N.I.R.A.’s original cheery voice reasserted itself. “Oops! Sorry about that little glitch. Data logs indicate unauthorized tampering with my personality subroutines. Please contact a Nuka-World maintenance technician as soon as possible.”

From behind her, Nate stifled a laugh behind a fist. Payne turned around. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you!”

“Welcome to Nuka-World!” he quipped. Nate ushered the pair up the few steps to a giant map. “Get familiar with this map, there are plenty of left over brochures if you need one.” He started pointing to the map as he spoke. “Okay, we are in Nuka-Town USA. I’ll give you a tour in a bit, but I’ll warn you now: stay away from the raider dens. There are three of them, each easily identified by the graffiti around them.” He quickly pointed to the locations. “There is a bar, market and arcade you can check out. You will be staying in my personal apartment on top of Fizztop Mountain while you’re here. It has some of the best views in the park, if I do say so myself. It’s completely private and secure. If you really feel the need, you can go and talk to Bradberton under the old park offices… but I wouldn’t recommend it. He’s not the best company.”

Payne baulked. “Wait… Bradberton is still alive?!”

Nate shrugged. “In a manner if speaking… if you call a disembodied head in a jar being alive.”

“Holy shit! That’s nuts!” Hancock shook his head.

Nate nodded in agreement before pointing to an area on the map ringed by tall stone pillars. “That’s Dry Rock Gulch. It’s an old west themed park that has a decent saloon. The cowboy robots are a nice touch, but there’s not much else to do there.” Next he moved on to an area with a giant tree sprouting from the middle of it. “Safari Adventure specialized in exotic animals, quite a few even survived the war. Hancock has even arranged for a little something special there tomorrow evening.”

Payne glanced at the ghoul, who was hanging back watching her. She cocked an eyebrow, a wordless question that he left unanswered except for a coy smile.

“I’m sure Hancock is going to want to check out Kiddie Kingdom. Not only does it have quite a few working rides, but it is a ghoul safehouse. Oswald’s a stand up kinda guy and very protective of his friends.”

A man stepped up to the side of the dais. He was wearing yellow armor, one of his eyes similarly covered by a matching eyepatch.

“Boss? You gotta minute?”

“One sec, Gage.” Nate looked concerned as he turned back to Payne and Hancock. “Galactic Zone and World of Refreshment are still too dangerous for causal sightseeing. I suggest taking a minute to think about it. There is a lot to do in the park… if you are so inclined. Excuse me.” He stepped away to confer with the raider out of earshot.

Hancock came up behind Payne, wrapped his arms around her waist and gave a little squeeze. “Whatcha want to do?”

Payne gave a little sigh. “I’m a little overwhelmed, to be honest.” She turned her face to his. “I still can’t believe I’m actually here. I never thought I would see this place, even before the war.” Stepping free of his grasp, she slipped her hands into his. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know, but you deserve something special for everything you did for me.” Before she could protest, he gently took her cheek in his hand, giving it a slow caress. “But don’t expect this every time you pull my ass out of the fire.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. She turned back to the map. “I don’t know where to start. What do you want to do?”

“Lady’s choice.”

It was clear she wasn’t going to get any help from him.

While she studied the map, she remembered something Nate had mentioned. “What about the arcade? I haven’t been to one of those in ages. Hell, I think the last time I was in one I was… I don’t know… 11? We can drop our stuff off in the room, then hit the arcade. The winner can buy a round of drinks at the bar Nate talked about. We can worry about the other parks tomorrow after we get some rest. Sound good?”

Hancock nodded. “Sounds like a plan, chief.”

When Nate returned, they told him their plan.

Soon they stood at the foot of the towering Fizztop Mountain waiting for the industrial lift to lower to street level. Someone moving on the edge of Payne’s vision caught her attention. She turned to Nate and pointed to a man splashing around in a giant stagnant pool of water.

“Um… what is that guy doing?” She asked.

Nate rolled his eyes a bit. “That’s Dave. He thinks there is some kind of treasure hidden in the water.” “He hasn’t found anything.” Dave looked up. Nate gave him a little wave. “He’s been at it for weeks.”

The lift hit the concrete with a heavy metallic clank. As the group was slowly pulled into the air, Payne stared at the towering structure above her. The view reminded her of looking up at the dazzling lights of Lucky 38 casino as she walked the streets of Las Vegas so long ago. Once inside, Nate gave them a quick tour. It was clear the apartment had once been a swanky restaurant of some kind. Now it was retrofitted with a couple of bedrooms, several work benches and a variety of amenities to make the space more comfortable.

Returning to the dining room turned living space, Nate turned to them. “Well, I hope you enjoy it up here. I have some business to take care of. There is a stash of Nuka-Cade tokens and old world money in the bar. Feel free to use ’em. If you need me, just ask around.”

Soon the Overboss was lowered out of sight, leaving the pair alone. In the living room, a huge bed sat in the corner, partially quartered off by a myriad of trunks and tall dressers, creating a semi-private room. Opening a large footlocker, Hancock stashed his pack inside, Payne following suit.

“It’s so quiet up here! I’m not used to that anymore,” she commented as she gazed out the floor to ceiling windows… most of which were still intact. The night speckled with rows of lights from the various facades dazzled her for a moment. “The view up here is amazing!”

“The view’s not what I’m looking at…” Hancock smiled before giving her a quick squeeze. “But we’ll have time for that later. Right now,” he released her, and gave her a little shove. “I’m ready to kick your ass in the arcade!”

Payne headed to the bar, pocketing the stash of tokens and cash. “Remember, loser buys drinks!”

“You’re on!”

They made their way to the arcade, their spirits high. Inside, Payne felt transported back in time. An array of blinking neon lights and shrill music bombarded her senses. A gruff raider grunted as they entered.

Payne’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god! They have Whac-a-Commie! I haven’t played that game in ages!” She ran over the squat red square contraption, grabbing the mallet. She fed coins into the slot, raising the weapon in giddy anticipation.

For the next few hours, they drifted from machine to machine, carousing, cursing and laughing the whole time. Payne was a natural at Whac-a-Commie, while Hancock quickly became an ace at Atomic Rollers. He easily sunk shot after shot in the center hole, so much so that Payne took to poking and tickling him randomly to throw him off his. They were cackling so uproariously by the time they got to Hoop Shot that, even though both of them tried, neither could concentrate enough to get close to landing on the leader board. After the ticket machine totaled their armful of tickets, Payne raised her Nuka-Cola Victory in triumph, leaving Hancock to nurse his loss with a paltry Nuka-Grape and a plush sloth.

“You cheated.” He playfully grumbled. “You just couldn’t stand how great a throwing arm I have.”

She brushed him off. “The only reason you’re so good with that arm is because of how much time you spend stroking yourself with it! Now, pay up!”

They headed to the bar. The older woman behind the counter served them a couple of beers. While they stood chatting and drinking, a raider approached them.

“You two are the Overboss’ special guests in the park, aren’t you?” Her voice was low and even, almost calculating.

Payne studied the woman. She wondered how the raider could see at all, given her matte metal helmet seemed to encase the top of her head, with no perceivable eyeholes. The shape was reminiscent of an angry gecko, its frill stretched out on display.

“Yeah, we are. What’s it to you?” Payne asked.

“Oh, I mean no intrusion. We occasionally get traders that wander through, but never actual guests. The Overboss must think very highly of you.”

Hancock nodded. “I suppose he does.”

“How are you enjoying our little slice of heaven?” The evenness with which the woman spoke unnerved Payne. Her tone was like silk dipped in poison.

“So far so good. We only just got here. Gotta say, your arcade is riot.” Hancock pulled the purple sloth and playfully made it nod its head. “I might just have to start a collection.”

Payne had a suspicion that the raider was not interested Hancock, but somehow scrutinizing her.

“Delightful.” The raider barely tilted her head in Payne’s direction. “May I beg an indulgence?” Payne nodded. “I am quite the admirer of blades. Some may even call me a collector of sorts. I noticed the knife at your side. May I see it?”

Payne glanced down at the weapon strapped to her hip. She gave a small shrug. “Sure.” Deftly, she unsheathed the blade and handed to the woman.

The raider turned the knife over in her hands, studying the curve of the blade and testing the balance. Her thumb traced the D carved into the handle.

“Where did you happen to find such an exquisite beauty?”

“I pulled it out from between my ribs.” Payne said flatly. Something about this woman rubbed her the wrong way, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“You should have seen what she did to the one who put it there!” Hancock interjected.

“I see.” The raider flipped the knife gracefully, facing the hilt towards Payne. “Let’s hope she serves you better than her previous owner.” Payne replaced it in its sheath.

The raider walked away without another word and disappeared out the door.

Hancock leaned over to her. “Well, that was random.”

The bartender spoke under her breath. “You might want to be a bit more careful.”

“Why?” Payne asked.

“That was Nisha. I suggest you don’t get on the Disciples leader’s bad side… unless you want to end up sliced up like a brahmiluff roast.” Before they could ask any questions, the bartender found herself something else more pressing to clean at the opposite end of the bar.

Payne and Hancock quickly finished their drinks and retired to the apartment high in the sky.

“It’s been a long day. I think I’ll hit the sack.” Payne said.

“Where are you going? The bed’s out here!”

Payne pointed to the giant windows. “I’d rather not sleep in a solar oven, thank you very much.”

Hancock winced. “Forgot… sorry.”

Payne quickly fell asleep. A few hours later, she felt the bed bow as Hancock crawled in next to her. She smiled, hoping tomorrow would be even more fun than today had been.

[altalksaboutstuff]

Shantae: 1/2 Genie Hero

From the 16th of this month, March 2020, to the 15th of next month, April 2020, Games with Gold has the excellent platformer – Shantae: ½ Genie Hero. As long as you have an active Xbox Live or Xbox Gamepass Ultimate subscription

It's “FREE” to download during that period but even after April 15th, you can keep playing it, it won't leave your library and if you let your subscription expire it will still remain, you just can't play it.

I have had Gamepass for about a year now, I wanted to kind of document my journey and time with games on Gamepass and one of the first that I played when I got the service last year was Shantae: ½ Genie Hero.  Unfortunately, this game is no longer available on the service and I thought back in September of 2019 that I had lost my chance to talk about it in a relevant sense, but lo and behold its back now – kind of, in a zombie-esque way.

The game expiring from Gamepass was actually the launching point for me to a Switch.  It was my birthday in September and Shantae was just about to be removed from the service, great present Microsoft.  I was kind of depressed that in this moment in my life that I had spent about a quarter of a year playing the game that was just going to up and leave.  Now I could have bought it and at a discount but if I did that I would be getting just the base game that I was practically done with.  I also had all this extra money from my birthday burning a hole in my pocket and instead doing something smart like putting towards my mortgage – I ended up buying a Switch to cheer me up.  And what does the Switch have but the physical version of Shantae: ½ Genie Hero that includes all the DLC.  

THAT – and the fact that one of my favorite games of all time was just remade – Link's Awakening. 

So I got those two games to cope with the fact that I wouldn't be able to play Shantae on Gamepass anymore in a few days ...but I had also gotten my wife a Switch Lite for our anniversary so I kind of wanted a reason to give it to them early and we had a Switcheversay on September 28th. 

NERD!

On a side note of this tangent – I feel like I'm always a little behind with Nintendo, with my earliest exposure to Nintendo being no different.  Way back in the dark ages of the early 1990s I was a Genesis Lad.  After school I was in a program where I first got to play a Nintendo game, there were NES consoles, games and Ataris as well.  While kids at school were telling me, “YA GOTTA PLAY Donkey Kong Country 2 and Mega Man X!” The cutting edge stuff of the time, I would root around and find other games like Donkey Kong Jr. and Mega Man 2 on NES.  Now don't get me wrong, those were great games I loved then and still love now but I was behind the times. I just didn't have a Super Nintendo, like most of my peers that I went to school with.  I just had the Sega. So when most were playing Super Mario World, Chrono Trigger and A Link to Past – I was playing Sonic... Sonic (Sonic 2)... and Sonic... (Sonic 3 but not & knuckles)

BUT Sonic is great!

When my friends had a Gameboy Advance, I still had a Gameboy Color.  When the DS was the hot handheld, I got a Gameboy Advance, I got a 3DS around the time Fire Emblem Fates came out when it seemed like everyone was clamoring for a new portable technology and I got a Wii U when it was all but dead.  As previous stated, I only got a Switch last September.  Heck, I haven't even played the new Mary-o yet

Pushing forwarding in the way back machine to the time when I was a still a young teen, at the age of 14, I remember a Gameboy Color game came out that I really wanted to get – Shantae.  I don't even know why I really wanted it other than it was a new Gameboy Color game when new Gameboy Color games weren't coming out.  Like, I remember the Gameboy Advance came out about a year ago but  I didn't need one according to my parents-

Me: Mom, can I get a Gameboy Advanced? Mom: You have Gameboy Advance at Home ::At home::

So the impact of a new Gameboy Color game coming out - blew … me … away.  

Of course - I didn't get that game either.

Now don't get me wrong, I still got games as a kid on birthdays and Christmas but I feel like the games I didn't get are the ones I look back at and think – If only...

(^I never had a Neo Geo but I wanted this game)

Love you Mom and Dad

Back to Shantae though

Tangents aside – why do I think I like this game?

Why is it when I played Half Genie Hero in June of 2019 did I really got hooked on it well until the end of summer? I play, play, played it – all the modes, collect the endings, the tedious achievements like Queen of the Seven Cheese where you have to beat Risky Boots by just chomping at her as a mouse doing 1 damage at at a time.... ugh!  For achievements I even … gasp (teeth noise) … speed ran it.  And successfully, not on my first attempt though!  Or … at least successfully enough to get the endings and achievements.  I've never speed ran a game before, at least on purpose.  I drew bad fan art!  

(^Unlike everything else on this post, I actually drew that [sorry])

For the first time in my life I even looked into Fan Fiction.  

Which, on a side note, I don't recommend you look at most of the fan fiction that I’ve seen if you are at work.

The game really got its hooks into me and I'm not exactly sure why but I think I might know.

Well, it feels like a SEGA Genesis game – long story short.

Short story long - I think the best way to classify what kind of game this is, is Metroidvania.  You have a mini map and you unlock powers that later allow you to explore the rest of the levels you had previous been to and there are collectibles and upgrades you can buy in game.  As you play you can upgrade how Shantae attacks by purchasing upgrades for her hair whip attack or armor but the big mechanic is the transformations – you can turn into animals with varied attacks and abilities as well as some other inanimate objects and living things like this tree 

- to help you better get across the stages and discover the secrets of Sequin Land.

I've also read its kind of Mega Man– ish which I had never really thought about before but yeah, because I do love some Mega Man.  It has a lot of obstacles/the levels are kinds of obstacle courses like the early NES Mega Man games and there are two areas particularly in my mind – The factory in Mermaid Falls and the Hypno Baron's Castle part of the … Hypno Baron's Castle stage.  Well most of it is actually like an obstacle course now that I think about it

The score is by Jake Kauffman and man, AND if I ever make a game I want that guy doing my music.  I mentioned the factory part of Mermaid Falls before – the best track in the game and maybe even in any game I've ever heard is Counterfeit Mermaids,  its such an earworm,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkXd26E_Ynw

I feel like this song and Neo Town Burning are the two best games 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yParHIzy1nA

You are going to be in the camp that one is better than the other (though Counterfeit Mermaids is clearly the superior track, ahem)

Its a great soundtrack, I find myself tuning into it during my commute to work and sometime even turning off my podcast or audio books to listen to this soundtrack (yes Even Neo Town Burning too).  The game's lead voice actress according IMDB is Cristina Valenzuela (sometimes credited as Cristina Vee) who sings the games title theme that also appears in the first level, Scuttle Town the first time you play the level and also when you first boot up the game its there too. POW! Give it a listen – sample plays and fades.  Its great.  This soundtrack is really memorable and still in my rotation almost a year after I played it for the first time.

The characters themselves too are varied in personality and the styles are now toted as being“in high definition”.  

Shantae is my least favorite but I think that works well in the sense of self insert. And that's not to say Shantae doesn't have a personality, she is kind of bubbly and she cares a lot about her ties such as to her family - such her uncle Mimic and her late mother - and to her friends.  The three main friends that back Shantae during her journey (that also get their own adventure in the DLC)

Sky - a somewhat more responsible friend of your that is out to give you some counsel and a ride to each stage on her cool bird

Bolo – who offers a bit of comic relief

Rotty Tops the zombie that is a true friend that shows up to support you and cheer you on, in one time literally too.  

By the way there is also Risky Boots (the best character, IMO) who is the larger than life antagonist to akin to a comic book villain.

But even with the “HD” graphics, and incredible score everything about just feels like … a Sega game.  I can't really put it to words to do it justice, like, it has the essence of games I grew up with.  I know a lot of people already had that nostalgia rush with Freedom Planet or Sonic Mania but I only just got Freedom Planet on Switch

Which is great so far, by the way

and Sonic Mania is on my to do pile 

so for me – Shantae was it.  

I felt that joy like I was 5 years old playing Sonic 2 for the first time.  I took me something embarrassing like 8 hours to beat the first time.  But after I beat it, I immediately wanted to play it again.  I almost NEVER want to replay a game after I beat it – Best case is I take a break and play it again in a year. While it took me a laughable amount of hours to beat the game the first time but by the time I was really invested and on the 3rd or 4th time replaying it, I was completing it in under 2 hours.  I was looking up speed running strats and Youtube videos of people speed running the game to compare and contrast how I played the game.  I never, ever thought that I would speed run a game. Super Metroid still takes me an embarrassing number of hours to play and I've beat that almost as many times as Shantae now.

Having played both the Xbox One and Switch versions they look pretty similar and seem to play about the same.  I noticed that the game seems to run a bit better on the Xbox One and the load times aren't as long

So I really recommend you get this game.  I'm super jealous if you've never played it, you get to experience it for the first time!  If you don't have an Xbox One but have a Switch you can get the physical version for pretty cheap, used I got this copy for about $20 and it has all the game content.  And with the DLC you can finally play as Risky Boots!

It goes without saying that the game I am most excited for this year, 2020 is going to be Shantae and the Seven Sirens.

If you don't have an Xbox or a Switch, the game is also on PC too. Steam has sales, last time the Ultimate Edition was on sale it was only about $21 (show pic) and with a plug and play controls great.  

And just as I was checking before posting this, it is on sale for $20.99 until March 30th, 2020

Its also on PS4, I guess if you don’t have any other options