#if this has been done before I’m sorry I’ve only got a lizard brain

[keanu-reeves]

[lucy90712]

cravings/mood swings (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

The hormones from pregnancy have made me an entirely different person at times which was a huge shock to both me and George when they first started to hit because I've always been pretty good with my emotions and hormones even when on my period. To me it isn't as bad because I only notice after my mood swings but poor George has to deal with me during.

George came down the stairs after filming a video and came to join me sat on the sofa. I was eating salty crisps (chips) some of which George stole as he sat down, this really set off my hormones for whatever reason and I looked at him with just pure anger that he would even dare to steal my food that I had been craving.

"George what the fuck I wanted those" I almost shouted

"I'm sorry love I didn't mean to I can get you more if you want them" he said panicked slightly

I gave no reaction to what George said as I came down from my rage because I realised I was being way too over the top. I always feel awful when I yell at George because he doesn't deserve it at all but he just happens to be around all the time so he's the one who bares the brunt of all my emotions. I apologised to George and gave him some of my crisps to make up for it and we cuddled on the sofa for a bit.

Later in the evening George was showing me cute videos he has of cat from when he was in his office which were just so adorable and made me so incredibly happy but then the sadness came over and tears started to fall down my face.

"Hey what's wrong?" George asked

"It's just so cute like how can one small animal be so cute" I sobbed

He comforted me and we spent the rest of the evening doing things that didn't provoke any emotions in me.

Dream:

My cravings have been very strong though my pregnancy so far which is a combination of normal things and weird concoctions just whatever I was feeling in that exact moment and I mean that exact moment. My cravings are things that have to be satisfied within the hour or else it's too late and I get over it.

It's about 10pm and I'm just chilling waiting for Clay to get out the shower so we can watch the office together. At that exact moment a craving for pickles came over me, its not a craving I've had before but its one that I know is kind of common. I checked all the cupboards and fridge to see if we had any but we didn't which made me quite sad.

Clay came down the stairs to see me staring at the empty cupboard with a few tears in my eyes. He came over to me looking at what I was before becoming very confused at what exactly was going through my mind clearly wondering if I was going a bit insane.

"Is everything alright?" He asked

"We don't have any pickles" I whined

"Do you want me to go and get you some?" He asked

I nodded my head and we went to the car to drive to the store to go buy pickles mainly because I didn't want to be left alone. Clay actually went into the store while I stayed in the car because he didn't want me getting cold but he soon came back with two jars of pickles just incase I wanted more another day.

Back at home I ate half the pickles in the jar and very much enjoyed it and so did baby which was the whole point of going to get them. I imagine just like every other craving I will get over it and move on to a new one.

Sapnap:

My mood swings have been insane so far during pregnancy like way morse than they would be before my period is due to arrive. I feel so awful that Sapnap has to deal with me because he used to hate it when I got so very emotional before my period and now its constant and like x1000.

I have been slightly more emotional than usual today which has just been ruining my day because I can't seem to get anything done without crying or raging at myself but I've yet to spend much time with Sapnap so he has been spared from my disastrous day so far. This soon changed when he came downstairs and sat with me on the sofa.

He attempted to cuddle with me but something in my brain told me that I didn't want that and I should be mad at him for even trying to be affectionate even though I love him so very much.

"No get off me" I said a bit too harshly

"Oh I'm sorry baby is there anything you want?" He asked trying to be accommodating

I shrugged him off still slightly angry but getting over it very quickly and feeling bad for half yelling at him. My anger soon completely dissolved and was replaced by sadness at the fact that I had yelled and now wanted to cuddle but he wasn't going to want to now right, I mean I've just yelled at him so why would he want to cuddle.

A few tears started to form in my eyes and soon spilled out onto my face wetting my cheeks which I tired to hide by facing away from Sapnap but of course he knows me and tried to see what I was hiding. As soon as he saw I was crying he put his hands on my face to wipe the tears and gave me a kiss.

"What's wrong babe? How can I fix it?" He asked

"I feel bad for yelling and I want cuddles but you don't want to give them to me because I was mean" I explained

"You are so silly of course I'll still give you cuddles if you want them" he said

He pulled me into a big bear hug where we stayed for the rest of the day and night.

Quackity:

I have been having a lot of odd cravings over the past few weeks most of which are completely unnatural and Alex thinks are gross but they actually taste really good. To me at least.

Tonight I was really feeling like eating chicken nuggets with honey, I really wanted to eat it but I was scared to ask Alex to come to the store with me because he would think it was weird and judge me which my fragile little heart couldn't take.

"Alex will you go to the store with me please?" I asked

"Of course love what do you want this time?" He asked

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I whispered

"What was that" he questioned

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I said a bit louder

"That sounds interesting lets go" he said

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up and to the car where we went to McDonald's for the chicken nuggets and then target for the honey before going back home. Alex was interested to try this combination too so the both of us sat down to try it. At first the flavour was really weird but once you got used to it it was really good actually and now I think I'm obsessed and by the looks of things so is Alex because his face looked like he had just had the best thing ever.

Karl:

Oh my has it been a rollercoaster so far, I've been so over emotional and have been craving so many different things it is so hard to keep up with for me let alone Karl.

This morning I was trying to make breakfast and I couldn't open the milk which upset me but then the bowls were up too high so I couldn't reach which made me even more upset but the last straw for this morning was when I had just sat down after struggling with everything and someone rang the doorbell just as I was about to eat the cereal I had really been wanting. I answered the door to collect the parcel the man had before going back to the living room with tears starting to slip down my face.

I'm not sure why I was so upset but I was which stopped me eating my cereal because I was crying which made me cry more because I really wanted the cereal, it was just an awful cycle. Karl walked in as I was staring at my full bowl of cereal sobbing which caused him to run over to see what was wrong.

"Hey hey whats wrong?" He asked

"Nothing is going right and all I want to do is eat my cereal but I can't because I'm crying which is making me more upset" I ranted

"Oh honey I'm sorry how about you follow my breathing to calm down and then eat your cereal ok?" He suggested

He helped me calm down enough to be able to eat my cereal which was kind of soggy by now but I still very much enjoyed it and soon got back to my normal self.

Wilbur:

My hormones are all over the place which normally I can handle but every now and then I get too overly emotional and just cry over random things, this usually happens when I'm alone so I just deal with it myself.

Today Wilbur took the day off from working so he's here to see the rollercoaster that is my day and believe me it can be a rollercoaster. I had a breakdown this morning when doing chores I was unloading the dishwasher and I kept almost dropping everything I touched which made me so mad at myself and really sad at the same time. I just left the room and sat down for a minute talking to myself to sort my brain out then went back to doing chores.

Later in the afternoon we were watching a nature documentary which we do a lot and there was this lizard and her babies that were being hunted by a large bird, I was willing them to get away but the bird caught the babies and the mother got away. This made me so sad that the lizard lost her babies while I was sat there carrying my baby. I started crying thinking about the fact that anything could happen to little bean once their here.

"It's ok love its just natures way" Wilbur said

"But what if bad things happen to bean when their here obviously not like that but anything could happen" I sniffled

"We will protect bean as best we can to stop anything bad happening but for now their safe where they are" Wilbur said

This made me feel better and luckily the rest of the documentary wasn't sad at all and there was some cute moments which made me forget about all my worries.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Hey buddy,” Spencer sat down in the chair next to Henry who was coloring at the table after dinner.

“Hi Uncle Spencer,” Henry replied, switching his orange marker out for a green one.

“So Josephine seemed pretty cool,” Spencer started.

He wanted to know more about his possible kid before going to Y/N. If it was true and she would let him meet her, he wanted to know all about her.

“Yeah, she sits at the same table group as me in class. One time when we were playing tag at recess, I fell and hurt my knee but she kissed it three times and said that’s what her Mommy does when she has a boo boo and it didn’t hurt anymore,” Henry explained.

“Does she talk about her Mommy a lot?” Spencer asked.

“She loves her Mommy like sooooo much. She says her Mommy says she doesn’t need a Daddy because her Mommy loves her extra,” Henry smiled.

“That’s nice,” Spencer said, getting up from the table.

Spencer was glad to hear that Y/N and Josephine seemed to be having a good life. He was just saddened that it didn’t include him even if she wasn’t his kid. He didn’t blame Y/N for not telling him if it was his. He honestly would have had no idea how he would have handled that news back then.

-

“And that is the difference between a stressor and a trigger. Any questions?” Spencer slid his hands into his pockets as he looked out into the audience.

The students were silent. Most of the girls appeared to be in a daze but still looking at him. Spencer furrowed his brow.

“Okay well then, I will see you next Monday. We will be covering chapter four section three of your textbook regarding victimology so I would suggest skimming it over before class,” Spencer finished.

He grabbed satchel from the desk and quickly exited the lecture hall. He had looked up the class schedules in the administration office and Y/N was also finishing a lecture at this time. Spencer was hoping to catch her before she could run away again.

He quietly slipped into the back of the lecture hall, taking a seat in the last row.

“Okay! That is it for today. Remember, we have a lab next class so closed toe shoes only and long hair tied back please. Have a great day, everyone,” you announced.

Students began to file out of the room, some coming up to your desk with questions so Spencer hung out in his seat a little longer. Once the last student had their question answered, Spencer got up and made his way to your desk as you were packing up your things. When you heard the footsteps, you looked up with a friendly smile that was immediately replaced with a grimace.

You grabbed your bag and keys and bolted. However, Spencer was expecting this and was hot on your tail.

“Y/N, please slow down. I just want to talk,” he pleaded as he chased you across the campus, garnering funny looks from people passing by.

You sighed and halted your movement. Spencer was not expecting this so he almost crashed into you. You took a step back to regain your personal space.

You looked around, noticing some people were staring.

“Let’s go to the coffee shop on campus,” you suggested.

Spencer still remembered how you took your coffee after all these years and insisted on paying even though you told him that wasn’t necessary.

You both sat down in a quiet booth in the corner. You were nervously fiddling with the coffee cup sleeve and avoiding eye contact.

“I-Is Josephine mine?” Spencer asked.

You could feel his eyes burrowing into your skull. You couldn’t lie to him, I mean you could but you wouldn’t get away with it because he was a profiler.

You finally looked up and made eye contact, “Yes, she is,” you stated.

Spencer smiled softly with tears brimming his eyes.

“Did you know before I Ieft?” Spencer sniffled.

“No, I found out after,” you responded.

Silence fell over the both of you.

“Why did you break up with me, Spencer? It all happened so fast that I never got a reason. We could have made long-distance work if you actually cared,” you spoke softly.

“Y/N please do not doubt that I cared about you. I loved you, I think I still do after all these years. I just thought you would be better off without me holding you back and not having a lot of personal time to visit you. It doesn’t mean I ever stopped thinking about you. I just thought you deserved someone better,” Spencer explained.

“Yeah well no one wanted to date the single mom in college. Guys would run for the hills when I told them,” you chucked sardonically.

“I’m sorry” is all Spencer could manage to say.

He thought he was doing Y/N a favor by breaking up with her but instead he made everything worse. He abandoned her to figure out how to take care of their child on her own.

“Can I-um...I would love to get to know her more,” Spencer stuttered.

“Spencer, I don’t know if that’s the best-” you started to say.

“Please,” Spencer begged.

You closed your eyes and exhaled.

“You can come with me to pick her up from the school if you want. You can play with her for an hour with my supervision. Under no circumstances are you to tell her that you are her father,” you demanded.

“Understood,” Spencer nodded.

You finished the last sip of your coffee and slid out of the booth, tossing it in the trash can.

“Let’s go,” you motioned for him to follow you.

Spencer scrambled out of his seat to catch up with you.

You unlocked the car and you both hopped in. Spencer noticed the backseat of your car had random toys and articles of children’s clothing scattered around and he smiled at just the thought that they belonged to his daughter.

When you pulled into the school parking lot, you turned to speak to him for the first time since he entered the car.

“You stay here,” you said as you turned the car off.

Spencer watched as you approached the line of kids and a genuine smile grew on your face. Josephine ran over to you and was immediately scooped up and littered in kisses. Josephine was dressed in overalls with a dinosaur sweater and a mini pair of converse. Y/N whispered something in her ear and she nodded as they made their way back to the car.

“Jo, you remember Spencer, Henry’s friend?” you opened the car door.

“Hi Josephine!” Spencer greeted.

Jo snuggled herself closer into your neck.

“Why are you being shy today, Baby J? Remember you already met him? He told you all those cool dino facts. Maybe he can tell you some more on the way home,” you bounced the child in your arms a few times before gently placing her into the car seat and buckling her in.

“Josephine, I remember you said stegosauruses were your favorite. Stegosaurus actually means ‘roofed lizard’ and their brains were the size of ping pong balls,” Spencer was looking at the child through the rearview mirror.

He heard the sweetest little giggle. The sound was music to his ears.

“Mommy, did you hear that? They have ping pong balls for brains,” Jo laughed.

“Yes, baby, I heard but I think Spencer said they were the size of ping pong balls, not actual ping pong balls,” you smiled as you corrected her.

Spencer turned around to face her now that Jo was feeling more comfortable.

“They also weighed about two tons which is about the same weight as this car,” Spencer smiled.

“Woah,” Jo exclaimed in awe.

“Okay! We’re home! Jo, you can play with Spencer for a little but then we have to do your ABC’s homework,” you explained as you parked the car in your driveway.

You lived in a small grayish blue house. It had a tiny gated backyard but you usually just took Jo to the park anyways. It was enough for the two of you. You moved in last year after accepting the job at Georgetown.

You unbuckled Jo and unlocked the front door with Spencer awkwardly standing behind you until he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“I want to show you my room,” Jo said.

“Sure! I would love to see it,” Spencer replied as he was tugged by Jo up the stairs.

Spencer laughed when he saw Jo’s bedroom. It was decked out in everything dinosaur. Dinosaur wallpaper, bed sheets, toys, and a carpet.

“You really love dinos, don’t you?” Spencer smiled.

Jo nodded, beaming as she seemed to be very proud of her room.

“Jo, I’ve got a snack for you,” Y/N called out from downstairs.

The little kid lit up even more and ran down the stairs, leaving Spencer alone in the room. He saw a small little bookshelf with picture books, mostly about dinosaurs. It was nice to know his daughter shared his love of reading.

“You have a lovely home,” Spencer complimented as he entered the kitchen.

“Thank you, I don’t know if you want some apple slices and peanut butter too. I would offer you something else but I haven’t had time to go grocery shopping this week,” you explained.

“It’s all good. If you ever need help-” Spencer began.

“We’re quite alright,” you snapped.

A silence fell over the room, even Jo picked up on it and stopped the loud chewing of her apple.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, patting the top of Jo’s head to tell her she could continue eating, “We’ve been on our own for so long that I can sometimes get a little defensive when someone suggests I can’t handle it.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that at all. I think you have done a wonderful job raising Josephine. But, I also had a single mom so I know that sometimes there just aren’t enough hours in the day,” he replied.

“Thank you,” is all you said.

Spencer glanced at his watch, “I should get going. My hour is up. If it’s okay with you, I would love to come over again sometime,” Spencer said.

“Leave your number and I’ll text you,” you replied, handing him a scrap piece of paper and a pen.

“Bye Josephine!” Spencer smiled at the kid who had peanut butter smeared all over her face.

“Ew, Jo! Did you get any in your mouth?” you laughed.

“Bye Spencer!” she attempted to wave to him as you were wiping her face and hands with a damp paper towel.

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet uglies, 41, Sternclay, NSFW?

Here you go! And if you're a fan on "Let me be good to you" this has very similar vibes.

41: I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

Stern blames the playlist he had on at work for the fact his morning devolves into chaos. He works better to the blues (or 2000s pop hits, but those don’t feel right when going over files on suspicious incidents in Appalachia). So he hums as he rinses the remnants of his workout down the drain. He’d never sing where someone can hear, but since no one is here.

I want a little steam on my clothes

Maybe I could fix things up so they'll go

What's the matter daddy, come on, save my soul

He goes to rinse his hair and realizes the song is still going.

I need some sugar in my bowl, I ain't foolin'

I want some sugar in my bowl

His lizard brain yells two separate messages; “baritone voice very hot” and “oh god who’s there.”

The second message leaps into the driver seat and, in his attempt to turn, peer out of the stall, and be sure it’s just another patron, his foot finds the traces of soap on the floor.

“Shit” He falls backwards out of the stall, thudding to the floor.

“Oh fuck.” A man emerges two stalls to his left, soaking wet and flailing for a towel, “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so used to singing along with the radio. Are you okay?”

Joseph scans his body, finds nothing broken, “Yes.”

“Thank god.” The other man flicks shaggy hair from his face. In the split second before he gets the towel around his waist, Joseph’s gym manners fail him and he glances down. At least he’s getting several weeks worth of masturbation fodder from this humiliating moment.

“Here man, lemme help you up.”

Joseph takes the offered hand, then grits his teeth and swiftly turns to grab his own towel from where he hung it. He’d rather not show a stranger his ass, but this is how his night is going. As he turns back, he spots the other man quickly redirecting his stare from his ass to the floor.

Once both showers are off, Joseph changes and packs his bag. The stranger is at the mirror, tying his hair back and combing his beard.

“I’m sorry, my singing probably startled you too.”

A shrug of broad shoulders, “I work in kitchens, I’m so used to background noise some of it barely registers. And I always have the radio on when it’s just me in the mornings.”

“Hence the singing along?”

“Yeah, and why I’m here so early. I try to get my exercise in before work. Gotta admit, when I joined this gym I didn’t expect anyone else would be in for a 2 a.m workout.”

“My hours are all over the place. I’m with the FBI and when I’m on a case I tend to, um, lose track of time. Or work way later than I should.” He shoulders his bag, raises his hand in a wave, “it was nice meeting you. Even it was alarming at first.”

“Same to you” the man smiles at him over his shoulders, “and if you’re ever here at zero dark thirty again and want a gym buddy, I’m happy to keep you company.”

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

It’s a month before Joseph runs into him again. He swipes his card at the gym, finds the clank of a weight rack in place of the usual silence. The man from the showers smiles at him as he puts his bag near medicine balls, and when he’s done with his set he crosses the 80s-colored carpet to join him.

“It’s much nicer to see you when I can see you coming.” Joseph smiles politely, not catching his own subtext until the other man blushes.

“No kidding. I, uh, this may sound weird, but could I work-out with you? I’ve been doing the same routine for years because it’s what I know, but it gets so fucking boring.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company, though be warned that I do a lot of core and don’t use the machines all that much.”

“Totally fine. I’m, uh, I’m Barclay, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Joseph pictures twisting it behind his back while pinning him over one of the benches.

Instead, he shakes it, “Joseph.”

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

“I’m serious about skipping this if you need to” Joseph starts up the treadmill as Barclay jogs on the one beside him, “if you’re on your feet all day at work this could make that really uncomfortable.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

It’s the truth; he may not be as in-shape as Joseph, but he’s still pretty fit, and they only do thirty minutes of running. But it’s equally true that he’d rather suffer some extra-sore legs than lose out on a half-hour of his limited time with his friend.

He’d been hoping for someone to spot him and maybe teach him some new lower body exercises, with the added bonus of having some basic things (like music taste and bonkers work schedules) in common. What he’s gotten is someone with a dorky sense of humor, and extensive knowledge of cryptozoology and mystery novels, and the stamina to make engaging conversation about those things while running or working a rowing machine.

It helps that Joseph is so hot that he could caramelize sugar just by looking at it. The glimpses he caught of him when they met were tantalizing; the way his dark hair gradually loosens from it’s gelled state, the way his cheeks turn pink when flushed and sweating, the few times his voice turns truly breathless? Barclay is ready to get on his knees and beg for him to do obscene things in the locker rooms.

What makes this desire impossible to shake is the suspicion that it’s shared. He’s caught Joseph looking at him in a way that isn’t just about his form, and when he shows Barclay a new exercise he stands closer and lingers longer than strictly necessary. And his Freudian slips are so frequent and obvious they may as well be Freudian nightgowns.

Just when he thinks Joseph can’t get any hotter, the agent texts him around their three month mark of working out together warning that he’ll be late. When he arrives, Barclay drops the five pound plate he was moving.

Joseph hasn’t changed clothes. He’s in a full, black suit, shined shoes, and a silver and blue tie that Joseph wants him to take off and loop around Barclays throat instead. The agent smiles with a promise to be right back, seems bemused when he returns to find Barclay in the exact spot and position he left him.

“You okay, big guy?” The nickname is one of the many ways he built a home for himself in Barclays daydreams.

“Uh. Uh, yeah, sorry, got lost in thought. I haven’t started on the full workout, did some extra stretching since I’m kinda tight from yesterday. You wanna do weights first?”

“Sure.”

Their routine lasts about an hour. It’s an act of god that Barclay gets through it unscathed. Joseph is even more hands-on than usual, and his cologne (bergamot and citrus, if Barclay has his scents right) hasn’t had a chance to fade. The most distracting element of the whole morning is his friend’s voice; there’s an edge to it, like a knife in a velvet sheath, and Joseph gives fewer suggestions and more orders.

Barclay wants him to sound like this forever. But only if he can rearrange his life so that he can follow every command.

After a very cold shower, he falls in next to Joseph as they push through the double doors into the warm night. When he reaches his car, the other man touches his cheek.

“Drive safe, big guy.”

He wonders if Joseph can feel him blush in the dark, “I will, agent. I promise.”

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

“I told them to get those dark spots checked” Joseph shakes his head at the notice on the door informing them the gym will be closed for the next two weeks to repair massive water damage in the ceiling.

“I’m just bummed I won’t get to work out with you. It’s not as fun alone in my apartment.”

“You could come over to mine, if we can find a time where it works.”

“I’d love to.”

Barclay double checks that the address on the apartment in front of him matches the one Joseph sent, while trying not to fixate on the text that came with it.

Joseph: Be ready, big guy, I’m going to work you hard

He knocks on the designated door, pushes it open when Joseph calls for him to come in. There’s a yoga mat on the floor and a stationary bike in the corner, and far too little space for two grown men to work out together.

“Do you want me to help move the couch? That might give us...more...room.”

Joseph, in his full suit and dress shoes, leans against the kitchen doorway with a confident smile.

“Y-you’re not working out with me, are you?” Barclay’s hopes hurry to the front of his brain, tripping up his tongue.

“No. I did mine earlier today.” He runs a finger along Barclay’s chest, “I designed a special one, just for you. If you get through it all, you get a reward.”

“What kind?”

Joseph leans in to kiss him softly and swiftly, “I’ll let you fuck me.”

Barclay’s hands fly out to grips his shoulders as he groans, “fuck, babe, really?”

“Really. But first, you have to pick two things from this list.” He hands Barclay a sheet of memo paper with a neatly written list of the lewdest exercises he’s ever seen. He’d offer to do all of them, but then he might not have enough energy to enjoy his reward.

“The, uh, the push ups and the crunches.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Please?”

“Okay, big guy, we’ll do those. Get on the mat, push up position.”

Barclay hurriedly obeys. Freshly shined shoes step onto the top edge of the mat.

“We’ll just do thirty today. I’ll count. Ready?”

He nods.

“Good boy. Down, one”

Barclay bends his elbows, only stopping when his lips touch the top of Joseph’s shoes. He holds there a two-count, then rises.

“Down, two.”

He repeats the motion, keeps time with Joseph’s count as a hint of polish curls into his nose. It should be boring, maybe even degrading, but fuck him if it isn’t the hottest fucking thing he’s done in years. Joseph is so put together, so poised, Barclay feels like an unkempt beast next to him in his gym clothes. Yet he’s letting him kiss his lovingly shined shoes, telling him he’s a good boy as he works up a sweat.

“Down, thirty.” Joseph joins him on the floor as Barclay sits back on his heels, “well done. Now, on your back please.”

Barclay lays down. Joseph grabs a silver item from the side table and holds it in front of him. It takes his lust-glazed brain a second to grasp it’s a cock cage.

“Can I put this on you? You’ll have to wear it the rest of the workout.”

“Ohfuckplease.”

Joseph leans forward enough to kiss his chest, then shifts his shorts down to his thighs and locks the cage into place.

“If you need to stop, just say red. Okay?”

He nods frantically.

“Okay?” Joseph repeats with a stern look.

“Okay.”

“Good boy.” Joseph lifts his legs and sets them over his left shoulder. Barclay whimpers as there’s a snap of a latex glove and a pop of lube. Joseph smirks as Barclay whines at his teasing touches.

“Two sets, forty each. Go ahead and count in your head.”

“Okay” He curls his body, only gets through two more crunches before a finger presses in. “fuck!”

“Focus, big guy.” Joseph kisses his knee.

“I am, I’m focusing on the fact you’re a fucking genius.”

“If you lose count, you’ll have to start over” he presses in the second finger, “and that means longer until your reward.”

“I’m, I’m on twenty!”

A kiss to his calf, “Keep going.”

By the time he hits the second “forty” his legs are burning and Joseph is stretching his ass open with three fingers. He pulls them free but keeps Barclays legs in place, tugs the glove off and removes a blue, silicone plug from his jacket pocket . It slides in comfortably, but Barclay whimpers his name all the same.

“You’re doing so well Barclay. Are you ready to keep being my good boy?”

“Yes, please yes.”

Joseph sets his legs on the floor, guides him to his knees so he can pull his shorts up, and then helps him to his feet, pausing to kiss him sweetly and run his lips along his neck.

“Twenty minutes on the bike. Whatever speed you like.”

Barclay eases himself onto the seat, starts pedaling and watches longingly as Joseph heads into the kitchen saying he'll be back in a minute. The plug isn’t too uncomfortable to sit on, so this should be a breeze.

He hunches forward with a moan as it starts vibrating. Joseph strides back into the room, remote control in hand, only stopping to give Barclay another kiss and run his fingers through his hair before dropping onto the couch.

“Let me know when you’re done.” He picks up a copy of Empire and starts reading, heedless of Barclay’s increasingly loud moans.

The vibrator starts and stops, sometimes a gentle buzz and sometimes a furious pulse, and Barclay fights to keep the pedals going under the onslaught, desperate not to lose time and eager to please the man stealing tender, hungry glances at him from the couch.

“Time” He gasps, pulling his feet free from the pedals. Joseph is up and to him before his legs have a chance to wobble. Once he’s on the couch, shirt soaked with sweat, Joseph straddles him and kisses him demandingly, mouth moving from lips to cheek to neck without a care for sweat.

“Will you be a good boy and let me get off on you?”

“You know I fuckin will, fuck, babe, wanna be so fuckin good for youAH, ohgod” He throws his arms around Joseph, clinging and groping as he grinds on the cage and the aching cock within it.

“You look so good like this big guy, exhausted and obedient for me.”

“Yes, yesyes all for you, Joseph, please cum on me.”

“I will baby, don’t worry.” He brushes their lips together, “do you want some more kisses while I do.”

“Uhhuh” He whines, the noise only growing as Joseph kisses him and works his hips recklessly, his hands slipping up Barclays shirt to squeeze his pecs and toy with his nipples. When the tempo of his jerking hips changes, Barclay holds him tighter, needing to feel the way his body tenses and shudders as he cums more than he’s needed anything in his life.

“There” Joseph grins, panting, and pulls the key to the cage from his breast pocket, “now you can have your reward.” He slides to the floor, yanking Barclays shorts with him on the way. The cock cage hits the carpet and then a wet, enthusiastic mouth swallows him almost to the root.

“Ohfuck, Joseph, babe I’m gonna cum in like two seconds you, you might wanna-”

The agent pulls off, lazily licking the head, “I don’t want cum on the carpet, big guy. So be a good boy and cum down my throat.”

He gets exactly three and a half ecstatic thrusts into Joseph’s mouth before his orgasm knocks the breath from him and he cums, moaning out thanks as he does. When he’s spilled the last of it, Joseph sits back, breathing deep and wiping his lips.

“J-joseph? Will you, uh, will you kiss me again?”

The other man clambers into his lap, bitter taste on his tongue when Barclay glides his own against it. When he finally stops to breathe, Joseph pets his beard.

“Was all that okay?”

“So fucking okay. It was incredible. I, I feel so fucking good. Sweaty, but good.”

A kiss on the cheek, “Shower is just down that hall. Go get clean while I order dinner.”

“Okay.” Barclay looks at him with dreamy hope, “do you, uh, wanna do this again sometime?”

“Often. If, um, if that’s okay with you?”

Barclay nods, “as long as we can still work out together? I like doing that with you.”

“Of course, big guy.”

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

Secret Baby ch 21

Kiyoko is sick for 3 days. It’s a stressful few days for Dabi. Checking her fever and timing when he can give her another dose of fever reducer. It stresses him out to the point of exhaustion, Kiyoko reacts to his anxiety and distress by crying harder and refusing to settle. Kiyoko finally calms down for longer than a couple hours when her fever finally breaks a few days later. Letting Dabi sleep for what he guesses to be a solid 10 hours. 

Shigaraki calls once as Kiyoko’s fever is peaking and she’s wailing in discomfort. Dabi sends him to voicemail and follows up with a short text about now not being a good time. Shigraki calls twice more afterwards so Dabi ends up silencing his phone. Later that night once he has Kiyoko tucked into her nest and is cleaning up he calls back. 

“Why the hell didn’t you answer me earlier?” Shigaraki’s voice rasps through the phone. Demanding and Dabi can’t help but think of his boss as childish. He had sent a text and promised to call back later in his defense, what kind of person expected you to drop everything when they called anyways? “Are you doing dishes or something? I thought you were going to call back when you weren’t doing anything.”

“I couldn’t come to the phone. Personal issues. I’m free to talk now, you’re just going to have to ignore the background noise Creep.” It feels weird letting his voice become deeper and rougher at home. Kiyoko is safe in her nest and asleep but he still feels nervous letting his something he uses for work into his home.

“Fine. There’s a meeting tomorrow, meeting the rest of the League mostly and stay for dinner this time.” Shigraki huffs after a moment of silence. He expects to be obeyed but doesn't hang up either, waiting for Dabi to agree.

“I can’t stay for some weird Villain dinner.” Dabi pauses. This is a larger group, he knows he has to play nice. At least he has to work with everyone enough that he doesn't get discarded. 

“Make it lunch so we’re not wasting time with shit. I’ve only got so much free time so you're just going to have to deal Boss.” Dabi shut off the faucet and stood up straight, cracking his spine and making him release a tired sigh. He didn’t have the energy for this, his family wouldn’t free himself though. He wanted to introduce Kiyoko to her aunt and uncles. He wants Rei to know she has a grandchild, wants her to move on and heal from all that enji has done to them. He wants to try with her at least, maybe with enji out of the picture things will be different between them. 

Shigaraki is silent on the other end of the line for a few minutes. The sound of some games' special effects coming through the line is the only thing that lets Dabi know that the call itself isn’t an issue.

“Well creep? You're going to have to give me more notice than this if you want us to work together. I don’t have a lot of time to myself already. I'm banking on you and this League you’ve started being worth it.” Dabi snags his baby monitor off the counter and steps outside to light up a cigarette. 

“Just show up crispy bastard. I’ll let everyone know and we’ll set up meeting times ahead now.” Shigaraki sniped at him but it was nicer than it could have been. “I hadn’t expected anyone who had other shit I guess.” Shigaraki hung up rudely, it would have been annoying but Dabi just rolled his eyes and put out his smoke. This better be worth it.

The next morning passes in a blur as he hauls his exhausted ass around the apartment. Kiyoko is bright eyed and happy again as she crawls around after him. Dabi moves from room to room cleaning and scenting as he goes. He leaves several windows open as he leaves, airing out the apartment. He’s had hardly any sleep and he’s relieved he set everything out the night before. The sitter had demanded an upcharge due to short notice but hopefully this is going to be the only time. Kiyoko hardly cries as he drops her off and the bus is on time for once, resulting in him being a few minutes earlier than he had expected.

There’s a green lump next to the door that he absent mindedly pats as he comes in the door and he uses it to steady himself as he kicks his boots clean of muck.  It gives an offended squawk making him jump. He mentally groans as he realizes what he’s done. The ‘green lump’ stands up and faces him with his arms crossed.

“Did you seriously just pet me? What the fuck dude?” The lizard guy confronts him, Dabi would take him seriously if he wasn't in a Stain cosplay. The guy is built and he has a large sword made of knives on his back. He smells of irritated beta and strangely enough coffee.

“I just saw a lump and didn’t realize it was a person. Sorry.” Dabi pulls his hand out of his pocket in case the guy decides to take his mistake out on him.

“I’m a person not a piece of furniture.” The guy scowls and his lips pull back to expose human looking teeth. “Whatever, don’t do it again. I’m Spinner.”

“You can call me Dabi.” The blue eyed omega nods at him but doesn't take the offered hand. He realizes he’s going to have to tell at least someone his name at some point. The rest of his history will have to come out as well but he wants to stay Dabi as long as he can.

Spinner gives him a sideways look but lets it slide. It figures he would, seeing as he also introduced himself with a Villain moniker rather than his actual name. Shigaraki is one of the only people who have wanted a legal name, at least the rest of his group won’t be following that pattern.

“Dabi! You finally came back! No one will let me drink their blood but It’s okay because I saw someone cute yesterday!” Toga comes around the corner and inserts herself into his space. Dabi listens to her ramble as he goes into the next room. Her hair is coming out of the buns on top of her head but her clothes look cleaner than when he last saw her.

“Toga, You left your cup in the kitchen.” A alpha woman with sunglasses perched on top of her red hair nearly runs into them as Toga leads him past the bar to what must be the kitchen. She smells strongly of alpha mixed with citrus. It’s bright and comforting in some odd way Dabi has never experienced before but it's not unpleasant.

Toga grabs the cup as she holds it out and slurps the red liquid in it. It's enclosed and she’s drinking it through a straw but Dabi’s still pretty sure it's blood.

“Who’s the goth hon?” She tilts her head at Dabi and has blocked the doorway to the kitchen. Large shoulders blocking the view and Dabi straightens up to look her in the eyes.

“Currently going by Dabi.” He puts a hand on Toga’s shoulder in case he has to pull her back again like when they met Shigaraki. “You going to let us pass and let me finish getting introduced?”

“You can call me big sis Magne.” She moves back and lets them into the room. “No last name there for you?”

“I’ll tell you when I have to. No family name for you either Magne?” Dabi lets Toga shrug him off and gives Magne another once over. It doesn't seem to be a touchy subject for her at least.

“Not one I use, legally it's stuck with my dead name still. Magne is what I go by and I just added Big sis for my villain moniker.” Whatever test she was giving him he seems to have passed. He was asking about the family name to poke around back at her. Instead he seems to have set the alpha at ease.

“Nah, Don’t like them much and the feeling is mutual.” she smirks at him and he can’t help but give a small smile back. He can already tell that she’s going to one of his favorites and she has a calming presence.

Toga gives another loud slurp, making so much noise due to how thick the liquid must be. She seems happy though so Dabi shoves the thought that it's gross to the back of his head.

At the table there’s a guy in a full body suit and mask, all monochrome colors, sitting at the table. Tea and books come with his light beta scent and Dabi is seriously starting to question why all these strangers smell so nice to him. Maybe it’s because he knows he will be with them for a while and his brain is trying to trick him into letting the arrangement be more permanent.

“Hey! Glad you got here safe! It’s about time you showed up, are you going to introduce yourself?” He speaks in two voices and Dabi is confused for a moment on which one he means until Toga holds up a finger to him. First voice then he guesses.

“Dabi. Nice enough to be here I guess.” He sits down across from him and the guy perks up.

“I’m Twice, Girans friend! Jin bubaigawara.” He holds out his hand and looks so hopeful that Dabi can’t help but shake it. This is the guy Giran had sent to check out the League?

“Nice to meet you I guess Jin.” He sits down, as a man in a bright orange coat walks in. Guess he wasn’t the last to arrive as he’d assumed. Then again some of the members seem to have taken up Kuroguri on the off to live here.

“Young Sir, you must be the last new member Shigaraki had been saying we would meet today.” He gives Dabi a bow and tips his tophat as Dabi blinks in surprise. The theatrical man pulls a bottle of sake and cups out of thin air.  He’s wearing scent blockers like Dabi, keeping his secondary gender to himself. “I’m Sako Atsuhiro. Mr.Compress works as well if you prefer to keep things professional.”

Mr.Compress cracks the seal on the bottle loudly before he pours, It’s been forever since Dabi let himself drink. First he was pregnant and then occasionally breast feeding and then he was just too busy to relax and unwind with a stiff drink. Compress had even made a show of breaking the seal, knowing they all didn’t trust each other yet. Dabi takes the glass with no intention of actually drinking it but finds himself relaxing and taking small sips. Mr. Compress shows off magic tricks and Twice is his interactive audience.

Kuroguri glides into the dining area right before Shigaraki and Spinner enter , Mr. Compress pulls out a chair for him and Dabi hides his grin behind his sake cup. Lunch passes quickly with a lot of questions aimed at everyone. Most of them Dabi declines to answer. He’s never planned to work with a group this long. Still he figures his usual rule of thumb, the less they know the better, will work just fine. Shigaraki who gets visibly upset and starts scratching respects it when he pasess on things such as a favorite food or game. Anything he can stomach and He dosen’t even have time for an idle game currently.

Kuroguri is asking him if he has any family if he’s got any collateral these people can use against him when the first call comes through the line. Dabi shoots up and can his normally iron hard face mask slipping. Showing hints of instinctual panic at Kiyoko’s sitters ringtone. He blames it on the unfinished cup of sake, not nearly enough to affect him, instead of the warm comfortable atmosphere. It’s nothing, just an alert that the kids are going outside.

The next text is asking if Kiyoko’s feathers can be vacuumed up. Dabi scowls as he types furiously into his phone to leave his daughters feathers on her back, before another one arrives and it's a picture of the soft down surrounding Kiyoko. The black haired omega frowns, yeah he can see how that would be an issue for someone else. He types back a short response that it's fine. Then lets his leg bounce off in anxiety as his phone chimes several more times. Some of the members are looking at him strangely and it just makes it worse. He checks his phone again as he wonders if he locked the door on his way in. Of course he did, he never forgets, but that’s for his own house and he has the urge to check for the base.

“Everything alright Dabi?” Shigaraki asks him with an odd tone to his voice. Dabi brushes it off as Shigaraki’s possessive streak coming out as the crusty asshole tries to sneak a peek at his phone like some sort of kid.

It's the fourth time Dabi has ducked out to take a phone call. Kiyoko is crying and controlling some of her feathers to annoy her sitter or entertain the other kids. When they were vacuumed up Kiyoko had become hysterical. Her sitter wants him to come get her as soon as possible again and Dabi wishes he could fault her for it. He sighs, resigning himself to excusing himself now. He twists one of his many rings decorating his fingers as he walks back in. The picture of apologetic.

Shigaraki tries not to be annoyed but Dabi won’t answer even the most basic questions about himself and he keeps leaving the meeting. Claiming it's urgent with his face drawn tight as he tries to pretend at being nonchalant.

Toga has been the only one able to get close enough to hear what's so urgent he has to keep leaving. Kuroguri could but he keepst telling him to let Dabi come to him in his own time. 

“I have to go.” Dabi storms back inside the dining area tapping his phone against his palm repeatedly.

Shigaraki hisses at him but at a kick under the table from Kuroguri he waves Dabi off. He thinks it's shady of Dabi to be looking at his phone all evening and suddenly have to dip but he also trusts Kuroguris judgement implicitly.

Does he have a spy in the League already?

@ruelukas22 @mostladylikeladythateverladied @i-like-to-shruggy @xxsnowchildxx @drxgonstone

[detroitbydark]

Crossed Connections

Tech x Togruta!Reader

No warnings yet

Summary: Tech discovers that the net is a very small place and that he doesn’t know everything.

A/N: So this is based off the assumption that a galaxy far far away has their own form of internet dating. It’s crack. id love to write for these two in the future but It’ll likely just be scenes and things I find fun as me and fully functioning works of fiction just don’t mesh well.

This should be the calm before the storm, the time of preparation and meditation before the next mission. For most of the Bad Batch it is.  

Crosshair, feet propped on the ships console dismantles and reassembles his sidearm before moving on the more formidable sniper rifle.Tech sighs loudly as his fingers dance over the datapad in his hand. He’s been doing it since they jumped to light speed. Usually he’d be rattling off a steady stream of facts on the planet they were heading to, its inhabitants, dangers, precautions needing to be taken. Now he was silent and that was not the clones default.

“Alright, I’ll bite '' Crosshair grumbles from the co-pilots seat. Tech looks up, shrugs and then sets the pad down, relieved his brother had finally taken the bait. The sniper continues to slowly work the oiled rag over his rifle.

“It’s nothing…”

“You're a fragging awful liar” 

Crosshair didn’t care. Really. But...of all his vods he was least annoyed by the team's resident engineer/translator/tech genius. So, here he was, digging at the other clone in an attempt to get him to talk.

“It’s her-“

“Wait” Crosshair sets the rag and rifle down on his lap. His eyes narrow. “You mean to tell me you're still messing with that GalaxyMance stuff?”

Tech runs a hand over his closely cropped hair rubs roughly as the partial hawk. “Yeah, maybe… yeah.” He admits, avoiding the snipers focused stare.

“And you’re still hung up on that anonymous nerfherder.”

“She’s not a...” Tech defends trailing off as he narrows his eyes. Rutababy was not a nerfherder. 

He was sure of it. 

Yeah, pretty sure. 

Mostly sure.

 He was trying to play it cool, choosing not to do the digging he was more than capable of. He’d matched with Rutababy a few days after he’d set up the (very much against regulation) GalaxyMance account for fun. He’d just wanted to see if he could do it. If he could stay ahead of the brains at the GAR. 

It was boredom, really. He wanted to play with routing his activity and bouncing his signals through different channels. It was just supposed to be a bit of a challenge. 

And then he’d gotten a match. 

He didn’t even have a profile picture up, for kriffs sake, just a picture of a scrawny Loth Cat he’d pulled from the Holonet. Apparently she liked Loth Cats.

 They’d been sending messages back and forth since, he’d even talked to her over comms once. Her voice had been soft and smokey. She’d apologized and said it was often like that after work, that she talked so much at her job that she often found herself borderline hoarse afterwards. 

She’d been a good listener. When he rattled on and on she seemed to even like it, asking questions that only fueled his descent into random, obscure subjects more.

 Of course, some things they didn’t talk about. She didn’t know he was a member of the GAR and she sure didn’t know he was a clone. She didn’t press him for more than he’d give and he respected that about her and didn't press her for more either. 

Tech huffs. 

She was definitely not a nerfherder.

 He picks his datapad back up and refreshes the screen. Still nothing from her. This was the longest he’d gone without hearing from her since they’d matched weeks ago. He wondered if she was-

Crosshair barks out a laugh that startles the younger clone from his thoughts.

 “Yeah, Tech-vod, I’m sure she’s not”  the sniper quips out the entirely unoriginal profile name his vod had chosen. Tech seems to relax and Crosshair smirks as he goes in for the kill, “she’s probably Trandoshan. You like lizards right?”

Hunter steps onto the bridge and it’s only because of his heightened senses that he barely misses the screwdriver flying toward his head as he steps between his men. It’s snatched out of the air, his face slowly turning toward Crosshair. The sniper gives him a lazy grin. 

“Good timing Sarge”

Hunter’s eyes trail back to Tech. He looks flustered. His skin was paler than most clones, including the rest of the Bad Batch, and it only accentuated his reddened cheeks more. It was an uncommon sight for, arguably, the most level headed of the small unit. An eyebrow arches above heavy tattoos.

“I’m fine Sarge.” Tech tries to explain.

“His girly friend is ghosting him”

“SHE'S NOT-“

“Enough!” Hunter's voice is sharp. “You’re excused” he growls over his shoulder toward the sniper.

Tech can hear Crosshair grumbling as he gathers his rifle and supplies.

“...ruining all my fun”

Hunter waits til the soft whoosh of the bridge door before he says anything.

“You know nothing good can come of that” he points to the datapad. The usual growl of his voice tempered. “We’re different Tech, but we’re still clones and clones don’t get happy endings”

Tech’s jaw tenses as he nods, “there’s nothing wrong with pretending, Sarge”

Hunter nods, “is that what you're doing? Pretending to be excited when you get the new notifications? Pretending to walk on air after you talked to her? Was it pretending when you let Cross gaude you into chucking a wrench at him?”

“It was a screwdriver” Tech corrects, petulant with arms crossed tightly over his armor.

“Yeah, ok, you know best, don’t you? Smartest of all of us. Incapable of making a bad decision.”

Tech feels something akin the shame twist in his belly. Hunter was just trying to look out for him. He wasn’t poking like Crosshair, he wasn’t out right laughing like Wrecker had done.

“I hear what you’re saying.”

Hunter looks less than impressed, “Yeah? We’ll see”

------

You're running late.

Again.

You hurriedly button your shirt as you skitter around the corner, your badge swiping you through locked doors as you go. The laces of your left boot flop against the duracrete.

It was the third time this week and your CO was going to have your head. You push through the medbay door just in time to see your CMO, Slash, a serious looking clone with a permanent twist to his mouth, begin the morning meeting. Your jaw slams shut, incisors clicking together as you find a chair at the back of the assembled group. You ignore the looks that get flicked your way.

“So, we’ve got some new assignments coming our way.” He begins, his gaze traces over you and you cringe when he raises a brow in your direction. You mouth ‘sorry’ and hear the scoffs and smothered giggles of a few of the other civvie medics. Slash doesn’t waste another look your way and you feel insanely lucky that he must be feeling lenient this morning. You couldn’t handle another dressing down like you had received a few days ago.

 You were a good medic. A damn good one but, by the force, the rest of your life was a mess. You’d always felt that leaving Kiros was the right choice but the loneliness you felt had only become more acute during your time in Coruscant. Where you’d once stood out too much amongst your tribe, you seemed to not stand out enough amongst the swell of people and species. Togruta were not wild about individualism and you stood out just enough to be off putting. 

On Coruscant, your pale pink skin and montrails did very little to make you stand out in the hustle and bustle of daily life at all. It was hard for you to make friends, hard for you to connect. It was the same problems from Kiros all over again. It was you, not them.

It’s why you’d bit the blaster and signed up for GalaxyMance. It felt silly and ridiculous, but you were desperate to feel a connection to somebody, anybody. You’d been on a few dates too but nothing ever panned out. Some of them had loved your “exotic look” while others had taken one look and decided they’d pass. No one tried to get to know you. 

Until Tech-vod.

You’d clicked on his profile after an awful day in the bay because of the silly Loth kitten he’d chosen as an avatar. Without much thought you read through his profile and sent off a cursory introduction and then thought nothing of it until he’d sent you a message back a few days later. It was funny, less of an introduction than a vomiting if facts on the Loth cats. It was cute. You’d never seen him but you were sure he was too. Pretty sure…

“Y/N”

You startle as CMO Slash barks your name.

“Sir?” You greet. Someone to your left snickers. Slash pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You’ve missed everything I’ve said, haven’t you?”

You don’t respond. You both know the answer and there’s no use lying. Your hand strays to one of the lekku hanging over your shoulder, fingers toys with it the way you’d done since you were a child, a tell to your parents about the state of your nerves. 

“You’re being reassigned off world” 

His words catch you by surprise. Your jaw gaps but nothing comes out. Sure you’d been late a few times and, yeah, maybe you hadn’t clicked with your team so well, but reassignment?

“Sir, I-“

He holds his hand up, “it’s not for discussion. This comes from higher than the likes of me. Transport leaves at 1600.”

You swallow hard, “where too?”

“Fort Anaxes.”

[helplessly-nonstop]

I Won’t Say I’m in Love (SkySolo imagine)

Well while I was doing a Star Wars marathon, this fic just happened to pop into my mind and refused to let go so here we are. An imagine full of angst and fluff. Godspeed to your emotions, my nerds.  

Word Count: 3996

Warnings: angst, cursing, fluff so sweet your teeth will rot, Han is a jealous bastard and Lando knows it too, Leia and Chewie just want Han to quit pining over Luke and admit his feelings

Han Solo does not catch feelings, no matter how many times Chewie would insist otherwise. And he has not caught feelings for some blue eyed, blond Jedi wise ass. But if that was the truth, then why wouldn’t his heart stop fluttering anytime he saw Luke Skywalker? 

Going back for him when he was in trouble at the Death Star was his first mistake. If Han truly wanted to distance himself and not catch feelings for this kid from Tatooine, he should have followed through and not saved his ass from Darth Vader. But Han Solo was a weak, weak man for a pretty smile. 

Han’s second mistake was showing the kid how to properly play in snow. Luke had grown up on Tatooine with sand covering every inch of the planet, even in places that it didn’t belong. So when they arrived on Hoth, Han could see the wonder in his blue eyes at the snowy terrain. His heart clenched at Luke’s small smile then he muttered, “Never cared much for this kinda cold.” 

Leia stepped beside the young Jedi and glanced over the blond as she said, “It reminds me of the mountains back home. I haven’t seen snow in what feels like forever.” 

“I’ve never seen it before. I-I always wanted to. And now… it’s just so white out here.” Luke murmured, his eyes wide with his delight. Han gave a chuckle and wrapped his arm around his shoulders before he stated, “Better stay wrapped up, kid. It’s too cold out here for those rags you call robes.” 

Luke swatted him away weakly then replied, “Shut up, they’re not rags! They’re comfortable!” The taller man gave a laugh and ruffled the Jedi’s hair as he chimed, “You’ll freeze if you don’t wear an actual coat, junior. Come on, let’s go find out where they’re putting us.” Luke grinned up at the pilot then tangled his arm with Leia’s before pulling her inside. Chewie approached Han from behind then rumbled, “You’re a sap, Han Solo.” 

The pilot turned to the Wookiee with a frown then insisted, “I am not. Shut up, fuzzball and let’s get inside before we freeze.” The two hurried to catch up with Luke and Leia then Han snatched the young Jedi by his waist, beginning to ruffle the blond’s hair. 

“Han, come on! I need to go find out where I’m sleeping!” Luke insisted with a laugh. Leia raised her eyebrows at the interaction then Han suggested, “Why don’t you stay in the Falcon with me? It’ll have better heating and you won’t have to share a room with someone you don’t know.” 

Chewie glanced down at his pilot then rumbled, “Oh but you’re not a sap. You’re such a fool in love.” The captain twisted to face the Wookiee and snapped, “Shut it, fuzzball. I am not.” The Princess snickered and patted him on the shoulder as she murmured, “You so are.” And with that, she ducked into the control center to greet one of the Generals with a grin on her face. Luke turned to face Han and Chewie then asked, “What are you talking about? What did Chewie call you? I’m so confused.” 

The Wookiee gave a laugh then walked back to the Falcon, leaving the two alone. Han stared at the young Jedi then grabbed Luke by his arm, chiming, “C’mon kid, let’s go get you a coat, gloves, and a hat then I teach you how to have some serious fun in snow, okay, kid?” 

Luke nodded with a bright smile then Han wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him towards the rest of the fleets in search of something warmer to put over his robes. Thankfully the Resistance had thought ahead when they chose Hoth as their new place to reside and plenty of the other pilots had different sized coats and hats for the men to choose from. 

The two Rebels slid into their warmer clothing then began making their way towards the entrance of the base to go outside when they ran into Leia, who was as bundled up as her comrades were. Luke flashed his familiar smile at the Princess then he chirped, “We’re going to play in the snow, do you want to come outside with us?” 

She began to protest then Han wrapped an arm around the Jedi’s shoulders as he replied, “Let’s be honest here, kid, the Princess is much too elegant to come play with us rebels. She could never get her royalness dirty.” Leia scoffed at his goading then shoved him towards the exit door, chiming, “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Luke, since he’s never been able to play in the snow. Now let’s go, laser brain.” 

The three ended up making a snowman then Leia threw a snowball at Han’s head, causing the three to erupt into a full on snowball war with Luke dodging most of what the two threw at him. The Jedi began to race towards the base entrance for cover then the door opened, revealing Chewbacca. Just as the Wookiee stepped out, Han launched a snowball in Luke’s direction, only for Chewie to be hit. The three Rebels paused as he glanced down where the snow had stuck to his fur and looked up towards his captain with a roar. Han gave a laugh then chimed, “The kid and Princess needed to have a bit of fun, fuzzball! Don’t be a grump!”

Han Solo’s third mistake as he tried to prevent himself from falling in love with Luke Skywalker? Going out in below freezing temperatures to drag the damn rebel back to their base on Hoth. But that didn’t go quite as planned. Han had finally found the kid lying face first in the snow and fear struck through his body, harder and deeper than the cold of Hoth could ever try and reach. The pilot scrambled off the TaunTaun he was riding and rushed forward towards the Jedi, turning Luke on his back. 

“Kid? Kid, hey, come on. Luke! Come on, you gotta wake up!” Solo urged, tapping the blond on the cheek to wake him from the cold and exhaustion. Those familiar blue eyes finally opened then Luke squinted up at the pilot, asking, “Han? You came out for me?” The captain sighed with relief, thankful that his friend wasn’t dead then scooped the younger man’s lightsaber to slice open his now dead TaunTaun before he gutted the lizard and stuffed Luke inside to keep him warm while he worked to put up a shelter for the two of them to stay in overnight. 

“Ahh, kid, what the hell have you done?” Han asked after he finished the shelter. The blond gave a nonsensical answer then those blue eyes fluttered open as he mumbled, “Han… Han, ‘m sorry.” Solo cupped his cheeks then pressed his forehead to Luke’s as he stated, “Yeah, it’s okay, kid, just get warm, okay?” He wrapped one of the two blankets that he had in his bag tighter around Skywalker’s shoulders then tucked a stray piece of hair behind Luke’s ear with a small sigh. Sometimes Han really wondered if this kid was worth more trouble than he caused. 

The kid began to tremble, either with the pain that he was struggling with or the freezing temperatures of Hoth, both was a possibility then the captain tugged the younger man into his side before pulling the larger blanket over them both. There was no way that the Rebels would be looking for them tonight so they might as well get comfortable. Luke’s head fell onto Han’s chest then the blond mumbled, “Didn’t mean to bring you out into this mess, Han. I’m sorry.” 

“Kid, just get some sleep and quit apologizing. I’m a man, I make my own decisions, you got that? Now get some rest, you need it.” Han chastised with a roll of his eyes. Luke nodded in understanding then his eyes fluttered shut, falling into his exhaustion.  

While Han watched as Luke floated in the bacta tank to help recover from his injuries caused by the hypothermia that he endured and the brutal attack of the wampa, the pieces began to fall into place for the pilot and Han couldn’t help but wonder if Chewie was actually right: was he catching feelings for this bright eyed Jedi? 

It was stupid, he wasn’t some youngling doing something new and trying to decide whether he liked it or not: these were actual emotions that people his age already had a handle on. So why was it that he couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he was in love with Luke Skywalker? 

“Han?” Luke called out, scuffling after the pilot as he left the recovery room. Solo glanced over his shoulder then turned when he noticed that Skywalker was fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up, kid?” Blue eyes flickered up to the taller man’s face then he raised up on his tiptoes to kiss the pilot on the cheek before he murmured, “Thank you… that’s two I owe you.” Han stared after the young Jedi as he walked back to his bed then walked to the Falcon, stunned. Luke Skywalker just kissed his cheek. Holy shit. 

He entered the ship and slumped beside Chewbacca who asked, “What’s wrong, Han? Is it Skywalker?” Han let his head fall into his hands then groaned, “Chewie, you were right. Fuck, I’m in love with the kid, what the hell am I going to do now?” 

“Face your feelings and tell him how you feel like normal humanoids do?”the Wookiee suggested, crossing his arms across his chest. Solo peeked between his fingers then hissed, “No, are you kidding me? That’s the dumbest idea, what if he doesn’t like me back?! Then what, I actually have to leave! If I leave, who’s gonna save his ass from getting killed? Or who’s going to give Leia shit about those braids and her royal pain in the ass status?” 

The two stared at one another then Chewie stood as he shook his head before he replied, “Come talk to me when you’re not acting like a cub, Han.” The Wookiee exited the ship and Han stared out the windshield with a sigh. Fuck, he was really going to have to own up to his emotions, wasn’t he? Unfortunately though, they were in the middle of a war and wars take no rest for anyone, no matter how big of a crisis they had found themselves in. The Battle of Hoth took place then Luke went to the Dagobah system to train under some Jedi Master while Han, Leia, Threepio, and Chewie tried to outrun the fucking Imperial Army, who was determined to capture the crew. 

“I know how you feel.” Leia stated, claiming the seat beside Han as he piloted the Falcon to their next destination. He flipped auto pilot on then turned to face her as he replied, “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, Your Highness.” 

“Except that you do. Anyone with eyes and half a brain can see the way that you look at Luke. My only question is when are you going to admit the truth, you stuck up, half witted, scruffy looking nerf herder?” The pilot jerked his head up then he snapped, “Who’s scruffy lookin’?” 

“You are, you moron! God, I wish you would just stop being so damn stubborn and just accept the fact that you’re head over heels in love with Luke! Ugh!” She stormed out of the cockpit then Han turned back to his piloting as he muttered, “I’m the one having the crisis but I’m still in the wrong. That makes complete sense.” 

Han Solo has seen a lot of shit go wrong in his life but ever since he joined the Rebellion, things just got progressively worse. At one point, Chewie offered up that this is what he gets for not believing in the Force but that just made him more pissed at the galaxy. But it only got worse when he went to Lando. He actually thought he could trust that bastard but Force he was so wrong. Trusting him and where did it get him? Frozen in carbonite. 

Leia helped him escape the trap that Jabba the Hutt decided to put him in then rushed out, “Luke is here to save you.” 

“Luke is here? Oh Stars, we’re doomed. Wait, why can’t I see?” Han asked, rubbing at his eyes. Leia paused then replied, “It’s probably just temporary, from the hibernation in carbonite. Come on, we’ve gotta go.” But as normal, their original plan didn’t work out. The Princess was taken hostage by the Hutt and Han got tossed down a garbage chute where Chewie was sitting. 

The pilot settled against the wall then pressed his head into his hands as he muttered, “I really hope that Luke knows what he’s doing.” A few bounty hunters came into the cell then jerked the two to their feet before dragging them out. He jerked out of the bounty hunter’s hold then bumped into someone else, who grabbed his arms to steady him. 

“Kid, is that you?” Han questioned with a raise of his eyebrows. “Han, you’re okay. Force, I thought Jabba had already fed you to whatever he could find on such short notice.” Luke rushed out, cupping the pilot’s forearms. The older man gave a laugh then replied, “Trust me, kid, that makes two of us. Together again, huh?” The young Jedi laughed before he answered, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“So how we doin’?”the pilot asked as the Gamerorrean shoved him forward. Luke laughed quietly and stated, “Oh the same as always.” Han raised his eyebrows at the reply he got before the pigs jerked them to a stop then he questioned, “That bad, already? Damn, kid, thought you had this covered.” 

“I did have it covered… old man.” Han paused at the statement then glanced down in the general direction of Luke’s voice and scoffed, “Did you just call me an old man, junior?” Leia rolled her eyes at the banter then snapped, “Can you two please focus while this slug is plotting our deaths? That’d be great honestly.” 

“Glad to see you’re still kicking, Highness. I thought for sure Jabba would’ve thrown you down a chute to become a snack by now.” Han stated casually and she rolled her eyes before stating, “Trust me, I would have preferred becoming rancor food over where and how I’m sitting now.” Jabba gave a few hisses and snaps then Threepio translated for the four prisoners, “He has decreed that you are to be terminated… immediately.” 

“Good, I hate long waits.” Han muttered, fidgeting in the Gamerorrean’s hold. The three were hauled off onto a separate ship then drove to the middle of Tatooine, with Jabba the Hutt’s people partying on their own. 

“I think my eyesight is getting better. Instead a dark blob, I see a big light blob.” Luke gave a small chuckle then stated, “There’s nothing to see. I used to live here, ya know?” Han turned to stare in the smaller man’s direction then  replied, “You’re gonna die here, ya know. Convenient, isn’t it?” 

“Well, at least I’m dying in good company. But stick beside Chewie and Lando, I’ve got a plan.” The pilot sighed and muttered, “You’ve had a plan before and look where we are now. About to get fed to whatever the hell this is.” 

Thankfully Luke’s new plan had gone as well as it could, with no one on their side dying. They managed to get back to the Falcon then Luke led Leia into her room, eager to help her get dressed and out of the awful bikini that Jabba the Hutt had stuffed her inside while Chewie helped Han gain back the rest of his eyesight. Lando made sure that the compressor was working then walked beside the pilot asking, “How you feelin’, old friend?” 

“Like I’ve been run over by a speeder. Hey, I gotta ask: how’d you, Luke, and Leia get together for this plan?” Han asked, turning to face him. Lando gave a nervous laugh then turned to face his friend before he answered, “Well, that depends. Just how much are you in love with that Jedi of yours?” The pilot snapped his head up to narrow his eyes at Calrissian before he snapped, “What the hell does my feelings for Luke have to do with you teaming up with the bratty twins of the galaxy?” 

The scoundrel laughed again and replied, “Well let’s just say that I wasn’t helping them without a payment and the kid was nice enough to offer that pretty mouth of his.” Anger churned into a tight knot in his stomach and Han came to a slow stand as he snarled, “You better be fuckin’ with me, Lando.” 

Luke and Leia exited her room then the blond furrowed his eyebrows together as Lando answered, “Oh, he was insistent. Said he’d do anything to get you back. So who was I to refuse?” The pilot made a move to snatch his friend up, only for Luke to step behind the two, insisting, “Han, don’t!” Solo scoffed then flared down at the Jedi, snapping, “Oh, you give him a blowjob and now you’ll jump to his defense?!” 

“What are you talking about?! Okay, I think we need to talk.” Luke admitted, gripping the front of Han’s shirt before dragging him into the captain’s quarters. The blond slammed the door behind them then shoved the pilot towards the bed before he pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. Those blue eyes fluttered open and Luke demanded, “Would you care to tell me what was that out there with you and Lando and why the hell you think that I gave him a blowjob?” 

“Because you went to that son of a bitch and when he wouldn’t help without a payment, you sucked his dick!” Han exploded, pinning the shorter man to the door. Luke’s eyes widened and he ducked his head with a small laugh, which only pissed Han off more, even though his chest tightened with the cuteness of the motion.

“Why the hell are you laughing?! This isn’t funny to me! I actually thought that-“ Solo cut himself off with a shake of his head. The Jedi sobered then tangled his fingers in the hem of the pilot’s shirt before he tugged gently, murmuring, “Han, what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird and it’s worrying me. Is it something I did? Did I make you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to!” 

“Kid, just stop! It’s nothing you did. Just… you know what, never mind. Just go, get out. Go sit with the Princess.” Han insisted, beginning to back away, only for Luke to tighten his grip on his shirt, tugging him back. The older man frowned when he took notice of Luke’s lips pressed into a stubborn line then the young Jedi mumbled, “I’m not blind, Han. I know how people act when they’re in love. So why are you acting like this if you just see me as some dumb kid?” 

The captain stared down at the insistent Skywalker and cupped his jaw as he replied, “Maker, I wish I could see you as just some dumb kid. But shit, junior, ever since I saw you in Mos Eisley, I can’t get you out of my head. Anything you do makes my heart feel like it’s going to fucking launch out of my chest. And I thought I could make it stop, I thought that I could just ignore the way that you made me feel but dammit, you were just so insistent on being my friend.” 

Luke’s lips parted then he murmured, “You… had feelings for me?” “Not had, kid… Have. Shit, I’m so fucking in love with you, I’d do anything for you at this point.” Han admitted, staring down at the blond’s mouth. Skywalker stared at the pilot for a few seconds, taking in all of the information that Solo had thrown his way before he asked, “But wait, if you’re in love with me, why’d you act like you were so into Leia?” 

He sighed at the question and thought for a moment before he answered, “I tried to distract myself from you, see if I could save you from me.” Luke frowned up at Han and twisted his fingers in Han’s shirt as he snapped, “But you never thought to ask me if I wanted to be saved. Did you ever think that just because you were saving yourself from being rejected that I wasn’t being hurt by it? You were protecting me from something that you thought that I would be ended by in the end but you didn’t even stop to consider the possibility that I wanted what you have to offer me.” 

“Wait, why the hell are you mad at me? I was just trying to protect you!” Luke let out a frustrated growl and stomped his foot like a youngling would when they didn’t get their way before he insisted, “Blast it, it’s like this is going in one ear and out the other! Han, you didn’t even consider asking me how I felt about you. You kept shoving me away and acting like I was your little brother but you failed to see the way that I look at you, like you had designed and hung the entire galaxy, like you could do no evil. Like you’re the one person who would hold me at the end of the day and tell me that everything was alright, that just because I’m Vader’s son doesn’t mean that I’ll turn to the dark side. You failed to see that… that you wasn’t the only one who’s in love.” 

Han paused at Luke’s admission then he leaned closer as he murmured, “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?” The Jedi gave a small laugh and answered, “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you when we first met at that disgusting bar.” Solo chuckled and shook his head before he pressed his forehead to Luke’s then he murmured, “I’m sorry that I’m an idiot. I should’ve told you.” 

Skywalker nodded in agreement and his blue eyes shimmered under the dim light of the captain’s room before he asked, “Would you kiss me now? Then go talk to Lando and say you’re sorry for nearly taking his head off?” 

“I’m not apologizing to that son of a bitch but I will kiss you.” Han informed the younger man before he leaned down and pulled Luke into a kiss. The blond practically melted into the tenderness of the kiss then he sighed quietly as the pilot pulled away, murmuring, “We should probably go back out there and figure out what our next move is.” 

The Jedi began to nod his agreement then the two twisted towards the door when someone knocked on it. Han narrowed his gaze when he realized that it was Lando on the other side then the man chimed, “You always were the jealous type. Even when we were younger. After Chewie told me that you were head over heels for this Jedi, figured that you’d need a good push from your old buddy. And with that being said, I believe that I deserve a thank you?” 

Luke laughed at Lando’s explanation and slid out of Han’s grasp as he asked, “You’ve always been a jealous person? For shame, Han, I figured you’d be the mild tempered and understanding one.” 

“Sarcasm is not a good look on you, kid, just saying. Now c’mon, we need to figure out what the Rebellion’s next move is.” Han informed the shorter man as he nudged him out of the captain’s quarters with a roll of his eyes. 

[dontcare77ghj]

Sleep

Steve x reader x Natasha x Bucky

“Bucky, what are you doing up?” You asked, your voice still thick with sleep. You laid facing towards Bucky, Natasha behind you and Steve behind Bucky, and the bright light coming from his p hone was very noticeable in the otherwise dark room.

“Doll, you have to see this. Look.” Bucky said quietly. He turned his phone towards you and after blinking a few times, you could clearly make out the article title.

“Why do you need to read this?” You questioned, pushing the phone away from you.

“Proof. This is all proof that the moon landing was faked.” He explained with a grin.

“Bucky, the moon landing wasn’t faked.” You sighed, exasperated.

“How do you know, Y/N, where you there? That’s what I thought.” Bucky said, cockily. Lifting a hand, you swatted the man in the chest, you were about to speak when a groggy Steve interrupted.

“You weren’t there either punk, now go back to sleep.” Steve grumbled lowly. His hand snaked closer to your waist and he rubbed circles onto your hip bone.

“But Stevie I need to know more. There are so many conspiracy theories out there. “Bucky complained, leaning his head back to look at the blonde.

“They’re just theories, that’s the key word.” Steve said simply.

“That’s what the government wants you to think. I’m telling you, we’re all being lied to.” Bucky stubbornly stated. He looked between you both and gave you a pleading face. “Let me just tell you one.”

“Bucky, I’m going to say this once, go back to sleep.” Nat groused, curling further into your back.

“But, Nat.” Bucky whined. Natasha raised her head onto your shoulder and gave your boyfriend a firm look.

“No, James, you need to sleep. We need to sleep, and we can’t do that if you’re explaining to us that people are being replaced by lizards.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“People are being replaced by lizards?” Bucky exclaimed, his hand immediately going to his phone. “Who, how?” He questioned, beginning to type.

“Bucky sleep now. If you don’t sleep, then you’ll end up forgetting all of your theories.” You said, grabbing the phone out of his hand. Steve placed it on the bedside and pulled Bucky back into a laying position.

“Okay fine.” Bucky conceded. The three of you thanked the man before you all fell back to sleep.

“It’s literally been an hour.” Steve’s annoyed tone rose you from your sleep.

“What’s going on?” You asked opening your eyes slightly. Even with your eyes only opened minimally, you could clearly see the bright light in your bedroom.

“Bucky’s reading more theories.” Steve tattled, causing Bucky to let out an annoyed sound.

“That’s it.” You sighed. “I’m taking your phone.” You added. Grabbing the phone out of his hand, you jumped out of bed and put the device in the living room

“What? Y/N no.” Bucky protested, he attempted to follow after you, but Steve wrapped his arms around him and held him there.

“Yes. No more phone tonight, now go to sleep.” You said as you crawled back into bed. Natasha’s arms wrapped around your middle and she pulled you into her chest.

“Good job, med.” She praised, leaving a kiss on your cheek. There was no noise after that as the four of you fell back to sleep, this time for the night.

“Where is he?” Natasha questioned. Steve was supposed to have been back hours ago. He had been sent on a week-long mission and even though he’d gotten back today, none of you had seen him.

“He’s probably just doing his paperwork.” Bucky guessed. You and he were sat on the bed watching as your Russian girlfriend paced the length of the room.

“For four hours?” She said, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. “I don’t buy it. What if he’s injured, did you think of that?”

“Tash, if he’d been injured, we would have been alerted.” You reasoned, pulling the red head onto the bed.

“I’m just worried.” She sighed. “Paper work doesn’t take this long, even if Hill did give it to him. It’s 1 am, he’s usually so routine with his sleep.”

“Did you at least try to call him?” Bucky asked, getting a thumb to the ribs.

‘Of course, I tried to call him.” Natasha retorted. “That was the first thing I tried. He didn’t pick up though.”

“I’ve got an idea.” You said. “JARVIS, can you please tell us where Steve is?”

“Captain Rogers current location is the training room.” JARVIS’s voice came from the intercom.

“Thank you, JARVIS.” You thanked as you stood from the bed. “Let’s go bring the captain to bed.” You said. Natasha and Bucky nodded and followed you. The three of you took the elevator up to the training room and when you entered you could see Steve in front of the punching bags, 5 broken ones laid on the ground.

“Stevie.” You stated, clearly, as you all entered the floor. Steve’s head snapped towards you, his cheeks red and his forehead dripping with perspiration.

“What are you doing down here?” Bucky asked, moving towards the blonde

“I just wanted to train for a little.” He puffed, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“For four hours?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. The three of you moved towards Steve, who looked confused.

“It hasn’t been four hours. Has it?” He questioned, looking around for the clock.

“Yeah, it kinda has. It’s 1 am Stevie.” You said, giving him a small smile. His face fell and he started wave his arms around as he spoke.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I was only going to come down for a little while and I must have lost track of time- “He began to frantically apologize until Nat grabbed one of his flailing hands.

“Steve, breath. It’s alright.” She said slowly. She looked him directly in the eyes and watched as he calmed himself down.

“What’s on your mind punk? Did something happen on the mission?” Bucky asked, moving closer to Steve.

“There were some causalities. Civilian’s.” He explained, looking downcast. The three of you all moved in and pulled Steve into a tight group hug.

“Stevie, that wasn’t your fault.” You informed him firmly. Steve gave you a somber look before he looked away.

“I could’ve saved them. I should’ve.” He muttered, eyes cast solely on the floor

“Things go wrong. Missions can’t always go right, sometimes things go wrong and we can’t control that.” Nat reasoned, giving his cheek a kiss.

“Come to bed, Steve, we missed you.” You begged, kissing Steve on the collarbone.

“Okay.” Steve sighed, a small smile on his face. The four of you made your way up to your floor, where Bucky pushed Steve into the bathroom.

“Go clean up, punk.” Bucky said, giving him a gentle peck and a pat on the shoulder. Steve wandered into the bathroom as the rest of got into bed, after a few minutes a freshly showered Steve came back into the bedroom in only his boxers.

Natasha and Bucky made room for Steve in the middle of the bed and he crawled into place.

“Try to get some sleep, Stevie.” You said, curling into Natasha’s back.

“We’ll keep you safe.” Bucky promised.

“I love you all.” Steve groggily mumbled.

“Love you too.” You all responded. The four of you all fell asleep, surrounded by the warmth of the ones you love.

“Doll, what are you doing out here?” Steve asked walking into the living room. You turned at the sound of his voice, finally looking away from your tea.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You stated, looking back at your now cold drink.

“What’s going on in your head, doll?” He quizzed, sitting next to you on the couch. He pulled you into his side and you breathed in his comforting scent.

“Too much.” You confessed. “I can’t switch my brain off.” 

“You want to vent to me?” He offered, taking the cup of tea out of your hands.

“I just want to sleep.” You confessed, turning to face him fully. “I can’t remember the last time I slept properly.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping then, doll?” Steve asked, tilting his head at you. “Why haven’t you mentioned this to us?”

“Because we’re all always busy. We have meetings, missions and all this crap to do every day. I don’t want to bother you with something like this. I should be able to deal with it on my own.” You said, shaking your head.

“Deal with what, doll?”

“I can’t turn it off. I can’t turn my brain off. I think I’ve done it and then suddenly there’s a flurry of thoughts attacking me. Things I have to do tomorrow, things I should’ve done better and all this crap that I know I shouldn’t worry about, but I do.” You rushed out. “I’m tired Steve, I’m so tired, but I can’t to sleep.”

Steve gave you a concerned face as he pulled you closer into his body. 

“Baby doll.” He began. “You know you can always come to us. We promised at this start of this relationship that we would be there for each other. We don’t care if we all have things to do we love you and we want you to be happy. We want you to talk to us about these things.”

“He’s right, krasota.” Natasha said. Your head snapped behind you to see Natasha and Bucky coming into the room. “We want to know these things, krasota.” Natasha told you, curling into your side.

“Nothing is more important than this relationship.” Bucky added, coming to crouch in front of you. “We love you, sweetheart, nothing is going to change that.”

“Come back to bed, Y/N.” Steve pleaded, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Okay.” You whispered. Bucky quickly came to a stand and held his hand out for you to take.

“Come on, doll.” He said leading you back to the bedroom, Natasha and Steve following behind you. They got into bed first and made room for you in the middle.

You crawled in between them, Bucky behind Steve, your back to Natasha’s chest and you faced Steve.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” Steve said, tracing his fingers along your face.

“I love you all.” You murmured, already drifting off. The last thing you heard were the sounds of your lovers responding to you.

  Non-reader POV

“I’m going to kill him.” Natasha’s growl woke Steve with a start.

“Nat, what’s going on?” He questioned, still dazed.

“Fucking stark and his bloody music.” She cursed, glaring at the wall.

“Nat I can’t hear anything.” Steve said, tranquilly. Natasha snapped her head to look at him.

“That’s because your hearing is akin to that of a fossil. JARVIS shut off Stark's music and tell I am not playing any type of game.” Natasha snapped at the artificial intelligence.

“Mr. Stark says he’ll keep it down in future if you, miss L/N, Captain Rogers and Sargant Barnes attempt to as well in the future.” The A.I said in his British accent.

“Stark.” Natasha growled. She attempted to get out of bed, only for Steve to grab her waist.

“Sweetheart, what’s really going on?” Steve asked, giving her his talk face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Natasha grumbled, turning away from him.

“Tash don’t lie to me. Just talk to me.” Steve pleaded, rubbing his thumbs in circles on her waist.

“I had the dream again.” Natasha admitted with a sigh.

“Who was it this time?” Steve asked, his tone gentle and soothing.

“Bucky and Y/N.” She confessed. Steve rolled her over to face him but she refused to meet his gaze.

“Sweetheart they’re both fine.  They should be home tomorrow.” Steve assured gently. He grabbed her chin and forced her to make eye contact, when her eyes met his he could see how glassy her eyes were

“We don’t know that. We haven’t had any contact with them for months, anything could’ve happened.” She said, voice cracking at the end.

“Nat, we’ve all been together for a long time. You know just as well as I do, they can handle themselves. They wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize their chances of coming home.” Steve promised, holding his girlfriend closer to his chest.

“I know. I know that, but anything can go wrong.” Natasha stated.

“They will be fine I promise. Get some sleep, Nat. I’ll look after you.” Steve swore, kissing her on her head.

“Love you, Stevie.” Natasha mumbled into his hard chest.

“Love you too, Nat.” Steve replied. He held her close into his body and watched over her to ensure she fell back asleep calmly.

Normal POV

“Buck, you need to be quite.” You whispered, watching as your boyfriend crashed into the door frame.

“I’m being quite.” He replied.

“You make more noise than Hulk.” You stated, rolling your eyes at the man.

“That’s rude, doll.” He said, offended, raising his hand to his face as if he were wiping away tears.

“Buck, Y/N.” Natasha uttered, sitting up in the bed. You and Bucky both turned in alarm to look at the red head.

“Shit, sorry Nat. Go back to sleep, we’ll keep quiet.” You assured, giving her an apologetic face.

“Oh hi, to you too, Tasha.” Bucky said in surprise. Your girlfriend had launched herself off the bed to wrap her arms around the two of you.

“You’re home.” She stated simply. 

“Yeah we finished early. We were just going to wash up and get into bed. Sorry we woke you hon.” You rambled only to be silenced as smashed her lips to yours. As she pulled away, she repeated the same, passionate, action to Bucky.

“Baby doll, we’d love to continue this but Stevie’s sleeping, and we didn’t get any sleep on the jet-”

“I don’t care about that.” Natasha interrupted with a smile. “I’m just glad your home. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She added dragging you into the bathroom.

“Won’t that wake, Steve?” You asked, beginning to strip out of your uniform.

“No, this will.” Bucky smirked. “Steve get America’s ass into the bathroom!” He yelled. A loud thump echoed into the room, quickly followed by a grunt of pain.

“That was mean.” You scolded the grinning man.

“Still funny.” He said with a shrug. 

“You’re back.” Steve breathed as he entered the room. He was dressed in barely anything and was rubbing his head, but he otherwise smiled brightly at the sight of you all.

“We’re back.” You repeated as he took you into his arms. He gave you a quick kiss before giving Bucky the same treatment.

“Shower’s ready you two.” Natasha stated,

“How about Nat helps you clean up, and I make you something to eat?” Steve suggested, getting a loving kiss from you.

“Food sounds fantastic right now.” Bucky groaned appreciatively. Steve placed a last kiss onto the both of your cheeks before leaving the room again.

The three of you stripped out of your remaining clothes and climbed into the shower together. The warm water felt fantastic against your aching muscles but the feeling of two of your lovers pressed against you was even better.

“God, I love you two. I really do.” Natasha said, looking at the both of you.

“Love you too, Tash.” You replied, pulling in closer to yourself.

“I love both my girls, and Steve too, I suppose.” Bucky smirked, moving you both closer to his chest.

“I heard that, jerk!” Steve called, causing you and Natasha to laugh. 

“You love me, Steve.” Bucky yelled back.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky you’re not sleeping on the couch.”

Leave feedback. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Reblog. Buy me a KO-FI. This is apart of the new sleep series I want to do. I will do a series of one shots with any pairing surrounding sleep. Leave a comment for the next pairing you want to see.

[thewritingstar]

26&27 with Butch and BC?

26. “Do you ever think?” “27. I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

Okay I’ve never, at least I don’t think I have, written in 1st person perspective. So imma try it and you should all let me know what you think. If its good great if not be honest because I trust the opinions of you very much. 

----

This was bad, this was really bad. I thought the situation was under control, Blossom told me it was! But the pounding in my head was becoming too much. 

Of course right when I feel my brain pulsing, Bubbles loud ass had to belt out a sonic scream, in soprano none the less. My hands cup around my ears as the pounding increases. If I wanted to fly, I would be met with even more pain. 

Flying and headaches are a no go. 

From above I can see the monster stand and rush behind the building to be out of sight. 

“Hey Butters.” That voice. 

“Not fucking now Butch.” I scold and thankfully my head lets up. 

I don’t even have to turn to know hes wearing that shitty grin before waltzing his pansy ass over to me. “What ya doing?” He asks in such an annoying matter. Fucking asshole. 

I can only scoff. “Saving the day moron, now get lost.” I try to shoo him away but like a pesky bug, he won’t leave. 

“I know that dumb ass. Red sent me to get you. We got a new plan.” 

My eyes finally meet his. “New plan? Blossom didn’t-”

“Yeah don’t remind me. I’m not sure she even knows what I’m about to do.” His laugh was dark and my shoulders shuttered. 

“What are-HEY WHAT THE FUCK.” My scream is muffled as my body is jolted into the air and-did this bitch just throw me? I can feel the impact of the ground behind me as my head looks towards the sky. 

The stomping of the monsters feet vibrates through my body and my eyes widen as I understand now. Human bait. Fucking great. “Do you ever think?” I yelled as a shield activated just inches from my face allowing for the fire breath of the monster to not roast me alive. 

“Nope.” He smirks before hosting me up like some fucking rag doll, yeah my boyfriend was absolutely the kindest. 

So now my face is plastered into his chest and another shield encapsulates us like a bubble of steel. How come he got this cool ass power? Where was mine? Hello chemical X? Yeah thanks for giving everyone special powers but me, fucking douche bag. 

The claws scratch at the dome and I can just see the moment where we become cat posts for the overgrown lizard. I may have super powers but I don’t trust this plan, especially since it didn’t come from leader girl. Brick might rival her in almost everything but she had the title of commander and leader for a reason, not his dumb ass. 

“Butch.” I try to reason with a growl. Maybe he’ll drop it so we can get out of here and just blast the son of a bitch but he doesn’t listen but tightens his hold on me. 

“Relax” And in a flash the shield disappeared and reformed smaller around us, barely saving us from another claw. 

This death grip on me doesn’t allow me to get away and even if i could, I wouldn’t be able to tear down the electric green force field.“ I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

Above us i hear another crash come down on the shield. The impact made it bubble and I heard his breath hitch. “Just shut up woman. We are not gonna die so quit bitching” He scolds me as if im not the one whose gonna die first if the thing were to fall. 

I can heard the scream of Bubbles again and my head goes back to a violent pounding. I can also hear Blossom scolding the fucking shit out of Brick as they attack he monster while its still occupied with the hamster ball bait that is us. 

“Your hair smells good.” 

“Fucking creep.”

“um yeah i think I can say that about my girlfriend ass wipe.” 

“Well you smell like shit.” Lies. He smelt like fresh pine but he didn’t need an ego stroke, not when we are being useless due to him. 

He lets out a chuckle and I only roll my eyes and don’t even try to wiggle out of his grasp. Its a little comforting knowing that I had the person I trusted most by my side in times like this. 

“They are almost done.” He says and I forget that the only view I have is of him. His face is stern as he focuses on the monster and yeah know, not killing us. One of his arms is stretched to the side to keep the force up and I wonder what it would feel like to have that sort of power at my disposal. 

“Remind me why we were bait and not the blues?” It really wasn’t fair. Bubbles secretly loved being the bait. The way she flew faster than anyone was kinda cool and she had always loved tag as a child. 

“Because Boomer isn’t fire proof and neither is Goldilocks.” And with that another flame of fire hits the surface followed by Blossoms ice and a loud crash. 

It makes sense and soon I feel the breeze hit my back and I never noticed how stuffy it was inside. Butch still has a hold on me before pressing a small kiss to my lips. “See. I wouldn’t let ya die babe.” He winks and I wanna hide my smile but I can’t.

“Yeah whatever.” I lightly smack his arm before he finally releases me. “Still sucks we couldn’t do anything, or at least I couldn’t” 

He wants to respond but before his mouth can open a large pink blast sends him flying into the nearest building with a loud crash.  

“DO NOT EVER DO THAT AGAIN BUTCH!” Blossom yells before turning towards me and grabbing my cheeks. “Oh Buttercup I’m so sorry, someone.” She glares at her boyfriend who is sitting on the sidewalk pouting next to his blue eyed brother who looks like he is gonna cry, poor dude. “Decided to use you as bait and I for one did not agree because you could of just smashed that monster and we could have been done with it.” 

I bit back a laugh before hugging her. “Its okay Pink, you saved the day so all is well.” She huffs and nods. 

“I guess so but it was still dumb. I am surprised you didn’t try to kill Butch.” 

I looked towards where she sent him flying and he finally stands up from the rubble with a thumbs up and I laugh out loud this time. “Yeah but I trust him. Now Im going to go see if he’s alright and maybe you should deal with your puppy dog.”

Blossom smiles softly before turning. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” 

“Me too.” And I mange to get to my boyfriend who is leaning against the rubble. 

“Sup babe.” He has a cut on his forehead and I swipe away the blood. 

“Looks like you got a good beating.”

“At this point I don’t know who the real monster is.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Blossom yells from fifteen feet away. 

“GOOD!” He yells back with a smile. “I’m her favorite.” 

I snort before he throws an arm around me. “Well Boomers my favorite.” I joke. 

“THANK YOU.” We hear Boomer shout before Blossom tells him he is still on time out and not even Bubbles puppy eyes can make her reconsider. 

We both laugh. ‘So wanna go get a milkshake?” He asks. 

“Sounds good as long as you never use me as bait again.” 

“no promises.”

“Ass wipe.”

“Bitch” 

“i love you.”

“I love you too.” 

-----

Hi heres me never writing 1st perspective ever again cause its TRASH!!!! Also i think they would be in high school or maybe 19 in this? idk your choice but anon im sorry if this was trash. 

[spoon-writes]

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 6

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse and soon they travel across the galaxy, looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 6 - The Mechanic

The hangar was quiet when they entered, no sign of the mechanic or her pit droids anywhere.

At the starboard side of the ship a panel had been moved aside and complicated machinery was exposed to the world. Parts of the turbine had been ripped out, making sure that the ship wouldn't be able to get off the ground.

As she examined the ship, Sinead's eyes strayed to the exit by their own volition, her heart beating just a little bit faster. Rationally, she knew that Fennec Shand had no idea that she was even there, and Sinead didn't think herself so important that she was a target, but the scared, vulnerable part of her brain screamed at her to find passage on the next ship out of there and never look back.

Sinead started when Mando shouted and came thundering out of the ship, looking around wildly.

"The kid's gone."

"What do you-"

Mando zeroed in on one of the pit droids. "Where is he?"

The poor droid collapsed in the sand with a shriek.

The mechanic came out from her workshop, cradling the kid. "Quiet!" She looked down at the cranky child. "Oh, it's okay. You woke it up! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it to sleep?"

Mando stared at the mechanic, his body radiating barely repressed nervous energy. "Give him to me."

The mechanic shifted her grip on the child. "Not so fast! You can't just leave a child all alone like that. You know, you two have an awful lot to learn about raisin' a young one."

Sinead's eyes widened. "Oh, he's not mine."

The mechanic pursed her lips and looked from Mando to Sinead. "Right ..." she said. "Anyway, I stared the repair on the fuel leak." The diagnostic machine beeped angrily, and she gave it a good whack. "There you go. I have a couple of setbacks I want to talk to you about. You know, I didn't use any droids, as requested, so it took me a lot longer than I expected."

Mando fetched a bag from the ship. "She'll stay back if you have any questions." He nodded toward Sinead.

The mechanic looked her up and down. "Do you know your way around a starship?"

"Provided with a map I'm sure I can figure it out."

"Don't go thinking it's gonna be cheaper just cause you leave some help behind! You still owe me-"

"I know." Mando stopped in front of the mechanic, who looked at him suspiciously. "Thank you."

“Oh …” She shot Sinead a confused look, who could do nothing but shrug. Apparently, gratitude was a rare thing in Mos Eisley.

The Mandalorian moved toward the exit with the mechanic hot on his heels. Sinead stayed by the ship, wondering if she should find somewhere to hide, or if it would be too hard to explain to the mechanic.

A droid slinked up to the ship, a small wrench in its hand.

"Sorry," Sinead said, and the droid stopped in its tracks. "The Mandalorian don't want any droids on the ship. Don't ask me why."

The droid beeped dejectedly and let the wrench slip from its hands and fall to the ground with a thud.

Sinead was poking around the damaged side of the ship when the mechanic came back, holding the child on her hip.

"He's left with some Corellian looking fella." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "You know what that's about?"

Sinead didn't, as the mere mention of Fennec Shand had put all other considerations on the sideline.

"I don't like the look of him. He's too ..." the mechanic searched for the right word. "Young."

"I think the Mandalorian can take care of himself."

"Eh, you're probably right. He could break that little twerp in two if he wanted. You want down?"

"Wha-? Oh."

The kid was let down on the ground and toddled toward Sinead, his small feet making tracks in the sand. When he came to a power-converter, he tried climbing it instead of going around and teetered on the edge before Sinead grabbed him.

"That's not for climbing," she said, already pulling her braid out of his hands.

"Now you're here, I might actually get some work done." The mechanic grabbed a toolbox and moved to the open panel. "You know what species he is?"

Sinead sat down on a durasteel crate, the kid sitting calmly on her lap. She let him grab her braid, since it was apparently the only thing he was interested in.

"I've no idea. The Mandalorian hasn't exactly been in a sharing mood when it comes to the kid."

"Yeah, he doesn't seem the chatty type."

"You don't know half of it." The child cooed when Sinead lifted him to examine his little face. "Maybe he's a lannik."

"Now I haven't seen a lannik in a day and a half, but I'm pretty sure they didn't use to be green."

"Mm, stranger things have happened."

The kid seemed to understand, somehow, that they were talking about him. He babbled a short string of nonsensical sounds and gave her a toothy smile.

There was something about him that made Sinead sure he wasn't a lannik; he was strange in a way she couldn't put her finger on, when she looked into his dark eyes, it felt like something much older looked back.

The harsh smell of fuel hit her nose, and Sinead wondered if she should move further away, but as long as the mechanic didn’t run, she supposed there was nothing to worry about.

"Name's Peli, by the way." She used both hands to clamp down on a pipe that dripped fuel. "Did you say you know anything about ship repairs?"

"I'm Chela. And that really depends on what you want me to do. I grew up around freighters, but never really had an interest in learning how they work."

Peli shot Sinead a look over her shoulder.

"Sorry. But what do you want me to do?"

"Take the hydroclamp over there-" she nodded toward a greasy toolbox- "and put it right next to my hand, will ya'?"

Sinead placed the child on the ground, and he waddled after her as she went to grab the clamp.

"Hey!" Peli shouted to one of her droids. "Make sure the kid doesn't get in the way."

Sinead crouched down next to Peli. From here, the smell of fuel nearly knocked her over. "So just put it here?"

"Don't scratch the pipe, or else we have a whole new leak on our hands."

The hydroclamp whirred as it compressed around the pipe, stopping the leak.

Peli got off her knees and stretched, and there were new stains on her overalls. She didn't seem to mind. "That’s one fire out. Now on to the next three hundred. What did you do to this boat?”

"I told you, meteors."

"Uh-huh. Must have been one of them new starships that shoot meteors instead of lasers.”

"Might have been. Stranger things, and all that."

"Strange, right."

Next, Peli showed Sinead how to remove the camburator and replace it with one that wasn't half melted into the circuitry. Peli carefully removed the burnt chunk of metal but before she had a chance to put in the new one, a random charge went through the wires and a flame shot out from the hole.

"Kark!" Peli yelled and jumped back. "Where's the damn-"

One of the droids came bounding up, beeping cheerfully all the way. A small panel on its helmet slid aside and it doused the fire, a strong scent of chemicals overpowering the smell of fuel. When it was done, it turned to Peli who gave it a quick pat on the head.

“Figure his no droid policy doesn’t extend to emergencies.”

The kid watched all this sitting a safe distance away, his small hands buried in the sand.

"Whatever jackass modified this boat did a piss-poor job of it. Who links a baffler to a flux surger? Was this put together by a Kowakian monkey-lizard on spice?"

Sinead cautiously stepped forward to look at the damage. It didn't look like the fire had done anything but scorch the metal plating on the ship, that already looked like it'd flown through an active volcano. "Can you fix it?"

Peli made a sound at the back of her throat. "Can I fix it she asks." She exchanged a look with the droid. "Sure, but I can’t promise it’ll hold in the long run. Those meteors really did a number on you."

Sinead shot a look toward the exit. "Just as long as we get off this planet."

"Not a fan of the heat are ya?"

"The sand. It gets everywhere."

Peli snorted as she grabbed a complex tool and started work on the camburator. "Yeah, the desert isn't for everyone. You should stay back, by the way, easier to do on my own. Don't wanna have to worry about you electrocuting yourself on the y-brantor."

Sinead didn't complain, pulling back and leaning against the remains of a half-gutted hoverbike.

She watched Peli work for a bit. "Has Tatooine changed a lot since the Hutt died?"

"Oh, heard about that, have you?" Peli didn't look up from the ship.

"Everyone this side of the galaxy has heard that the Hutt croaked."

"I guess you're right. Well, instead of paying protection money to the fat slug, we give ‘em to whatever gang happens to be top dog this week." She pulled out another burned part. "Can’t complain though, at least these ones don’t break my droids when I’m a few credits short."

"Seems a bit counterintuitive, doesn’t it, breaking your droids? How are you supposed to make any money then?”

"Yeah, I’d say take it up with Jabba, but you’re kinda late for that."

"Let’s just hope the afterlife is filled with salt pits."

"Personally, I hope he’s stuck in the belly of a sarlacc."

Sinead smiled at the thought. "Oh, that’s good."

Peli had her entire head inside the ship when she spoke, making her voice sound muffled. "So how long’ve you been traveling with the Mandalorian?"

"Not that long. Around four days, perhaps?" It was always so hard to tell when most of the time they spent hurling through space.

"Is it really true they never take their helmets off?"

"Seems so. I've never seen him without it."

"Well-" Peli pulled her head out, a smear of oil across her forehead- "how do they eat?"

"You know, I haven’t actually seen him eat. Or sleep, for that matter."

"You think he’s a droid?"

Sinead huffed out a laugh. "You know, that would explain so much."

Their conversation halted when the kid wobbled over to Sinead, who sat him down next to her on the hoverbike. He had found a bolt somewhere and was examining it with childish curiosity.

"You’ve been on Tatooine all your life?" Sinead said after the silence had gotten too much. It was nice talking to someone who knew how to have a normal conversation.

"Born and bred. My da worked the space port before me. Taught me all I know."

A small, wistful smile spread across Sinead's face. Her father had tried teaching her about ship maintenance, but she hadn't been interested to learn, she would rather fly, explore the galaxy. His voice rang through her head, 'you're not gonna get farther than the next system over if you don't know how to take care of your ship, space-bug.' And then he leaned over and kissed her forehead. Her heart ached. She hadn't thought about that in a long time.

"Chela? You all right there?"

Sinead blinked and looked around. She was still in the hangar on Tatooine, and her father had been dead for 11 years.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, can you repeat that?"

Peli looked at her, her brows knitted. "Sure. Said I started working alongside him when I was old enough to hold a wrench and not kill myself by wandering in front of an ignited turbine."

"And your mother? She was a mechanic too?"

"Nah, was a scavenger out in the Dune Sea. Never had a mind for mending machines, only pulling them apart, she used to say. Sand People got her about fifteen years ago."

The kid pulled himself upright and tried crawling onto Sinead's lap. She caught him before he slipped.

"I’m sorry to hear that."

"It was a long time ago. Da went a couple of years later, left the work to me. Can’t complain, lots of people would kill for a job with steady credits. Providin’ the customers pay, of course."

"You get a lot of traffic here?"

"Mos Eisley’s the biggest spaceport on Tatooine, so we get our fair share. Not lacking for work, that’s for sure. You’d think that after the Hutt’s death, smugglers and grifters wouldn’t have a reason to dock, but they still show up like mold.”

"Maybe Tatooine has something special to offer."

"Ha! We ain’t got nothing to offer except sand and Jawas."

"And I’m sure that out there, someone is just dying to find a place filled with nothing but just that. That person is probably psychotic, but they’re out there."

Peli's laugh echoed from where her entire upper body was inside the ship. "Chela, you're all right."

Biting her lips, Sinead looked up at the blue sky, suddenly feeling very lonely. No matter how well they connected, Peli would always know her as Chela.

She changed the subject. "So, you have any good stories to tell me? Any shady smugglers or dashing rogues come your way? I'm sure working here all your life you must've seen a thing or two.

Peli stood up, her face contorting in pain as she grabbed her back. "You know, you ask a lot of questions, Startin' to feel like I'm being interrogated here."

"Sorry about that. I just like hearing stories. I had a broken holorecorder when I was little, that only recorded sound, and I went around interviewing everyone who would let me."

"What happened to it?"

"It was ... lost, a long time ago. We traveled a lot, so I guess I needed something to occupy my time with-"

"Didn't learn a damn thing about starships, that's for sure."

"-so I started collecting stories. Everyone has something to tell.”

"You know, most people collect interesting rocks, funny drawings ..."

"Hey, out in space there's a distinct lack of interesting rocks. I found the next best thing."

Peli shot her a look before returning to work on the ship. Her curly hair was plastered to her forehead. "So, to answer your question, yes, I have a couple of stories from over the years. I don't know if you noticed it on your little stroll around town, but this ain't exactly Coruscant. We get lucky if we go one day without a shootout in the street."

"Hey, I've been to Coruscant once and I barely got off the ship before someone tried to sell me some spice. I’m sure Mos Eisley isn't that different."

"Sounds like what happened to Brendo last week. Hope you didn't end up with a vibro-blade between the ribs."

Sinead snorted. "No, it didn't go that far."

Peli came up again, this time with a small component in her hands. She sat down on the nearest surface and started to pry it open. "Now let's see, a good story for your collection ..."

Sinead settled in and listened to a long-winded story involving a banged-up YT-1300, a bunch of imperial stormtroopers, and a hangar left in ruins.

"I don't suppose the Empire paid your friend for damages?"

"Bastards nearly arrested him on account of 'harboring a fugitive', go figure. And you know, I was pissed that slimy bastard stole my dock. Changed my tune when I saw what they did to the place."

"Did he manage to salvage anything, or is it still a smoking hole in the ground?"

"After clearing out the rubble, the place was mostly working again. Ugly, but usable, which is the official Mos Eisley motto if you ain’t noticed.”

Stars dotted the sky, which had gone from azure to a dark blue. Surrounded by tall walls, the shadows seemed deeper, but in contrast, even though the suns had set, the stonework had spent all day baking in the sun and was still radiating heat. It wouldn’t be long until that heat dissipated, and the desert would grow freezing cold. It reminded Sinead of many night on Sriluur huddled under a thin blanket, waiting for the sun to rise.

"He's still telling that story to every poor bastard he manages to corner. As he tells it, he's lucky to be alive."

Peli and Sinead sat at a low table under the stars, looking at the ship that had been fixed as well as any competent mechanic could. At least it no longer looked like it had been to hell and back.

The tall walls surrounding them blocked out all sounds of Mos Eisley.

Sinead leaned back in her uncomfortable chair and looked up at the darkened sky.

"So, you've always known you wanted to be a ship mechanic?"

Peli looked up from the datapad she was thumbing through. "Yes ma'am, ever since I was a little 'un. Growing up in a spaceport certainly helped, but I've always found that ships spoke to me, sort of. Does that make sense?"

Sinead leaned back even further, almost slipping out of the chair. "Sure it does."

"What about you? You always knew you wanted to be a ..." Peli gave Sinead a scrutinizing look. "Smuggler?"

"I'm not a smuggler," Sinead said with a laugh. "I'm ... I don't really know what I am. Searching, I guess."

"Hey, ain't any of my business. Learned a long time ago there're more creds for those who keep their traps shut."

Sinead gave her a soft smile. "'Preciate it."

The child slept on a chair beside Sinead, swaddled in a blanket to ward off the oncoming chill. She reached out and ran a finger over his little head.

"You know, back when I was your age, one of them big freighters stopped by to regroup after their ship was in a tiff with some pirates or other. I was brought on to help them sort themselves out, and I guess the foreman took a likin' to me because he offered me a job on the ship."

"Well then, what're you doing here?"

"Easy now. I ain't gonna lie, I was mighty tempted to take it. They needed someone who had a way with boats and droids. Apparently the last one ended up skipping out after first pay." Peli eyes were hazy with old memories.

"Why didn't you?"

Peli huffed out a breath. "Tattoine is my home. I ain't got much in the way of family, but I got my droids, and that's gotta be enough." She affectionately patted the closest droid on its domed head. "This one got chucked after a podrace, found him out by the dump, nothing but a pile of bolts and rust. Think he got hit by a podracer down in the pit."

Sinead looked at the little droid.

"Imagine if I hadn't been here, what would've happened to him. I pretty much had to remake him from the bottoms-"

"Wait ..." Sinead held up a hand to stop Peli. "You fix droids ..."

Peli's eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah. Chela, are you-"

"Hold on."

Sinead got up from the chair so fast it nearly tipped back and raced to the ship. No time to turn on the lights, she ripped open a compartment and rifled through it until her fingers closed around the memory bank.

When she came back, the child was awake and looking around blearily. He reached out to her, but she skirted around and placed the little box in front of Peli, who now looked thoroughly confused.

"Can you find out what's on this?"

Peli picked up the memory bank. "Kriff, Chela, what did you do to this thing? Remove it with a sledgehammer?”

Sinead's smile was strained. "Something like that. Can you do it?"

Peli turned the box over and over, looking at the fraying wires. "Shouldn't be a problem, I can reroute it through one of my droids."

"You can't connect it with a datapad or something?"

"This came out of a droid, meaning it's going into a droid if we want to know what's on it. You know what we're looking for?" Peli said, getting up and striding into her workshop.

Sinead followed her closely, picking at her fingernails as Peli went around turning on the lights and grabbing various tools.

The workshop was cluttered in a very particular, organized way found in garages and repair stations all over the galaxy; gear and instruments were strewn across every surface not occupied by ship-parts in various states of repair. An old astromech had been chucked in the corner, ripped for parts until it was nothing but a hollow shell. The low ceiling seemed to trap the overpowering smell of fuel and oil.

Peli sat down on an overturned oil-drum and called over the nearest droid, who came slinking up to her, clearly not enthused about the prospect of having a foreign element plugged into its brain.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Peli said when the droid beeped sadly. "It’ll be over in a sec." With a knife she replaced the wires with new ones and started plugging them into the droid.

Sinead heard a sound behind her, and she turned to see the one of the other droids walk up with the child in its arms.

"Done," Peli said, leaning back from the droid. "Give it some time to calibrate and ask away."

Her mouth was dry. Sinead forced herself to swallow and took a deep breath.

"Are there any records of a Kyen Beck ever having been on the facility?"

The droid trilled a long line of binary.

"My binary's a bit rusty, can you ...?"

Peli sat up in the chair. "Oh, sure. Um ... it says that ... there are records of a K. Beck being shipped to the facility. Is that it? Who's-?"

Sinead found the nearest clear surface and sat down. Heart hammering in her chest, she felt the ground shifting under her feet. It was like seeing the convor again, the sheer proof that Kyen was a tangible person who had left a sign for her.

"Where did he go next? I-I mean, does it say what happened to him?"

Peli listened to the droid. "No it doesn’t, I’m afraid."

Her heart hurt.

Sinead leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. "Fuck."

"I gotta know, who's Kyen?"

Peering through her fingers, Sinead saw Peli's worried eyes looking back. "Please don't ask any questions. I'm not in the mood to come up with a lie."

"Most folks aren't as forthcoming about the fact that they're lying."

"Not in the mood to pretend I'm not a liar either."

Sinead leaned back and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the smell of oil. She knew for a fact that Kyen had been there, just not where he went.

The droid beeped another long string of binary that Sinead didn't even bother trying to figure out.

"Wait a minute-" Peli listened to the droid, her brow furrowed in concentration- "according to this, all of the slaves-" she gave Sinead a shocked look- "were sent to a mining facility on Celva-Celvalara. Where's that?"

For the second time in as many minutes, Sinead's heart jumped into overdrive. "Celvalara? I've heard that before ..." she got up and started pacing around.

Peli watched her go in circles, rolling an old metal spring between her palms. "It's a planet?"

Sinead was about to answer, when her deeply ingrained self-preservation kicked in and she stopped herself before saying too much. She did recognize it, but that didn't mean she had to tell everyone.

"I don't know. I'll look into it." She reached Peli and took her hands into her own. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I really mean it."

Something akin to a blush spread over Peli's face, mostly obscured by the perpetual layer of dirt and oil covering it. "Um, yeah, well, I didn't exactly fight a sarlacc, did I."

"You might as well." Sinead squeezed her hands. "Thank you."

She rummaged in her pockets and withdrew the necklace, which had been tangled into a small ball. "I have this ... thing ... it's not much, but please take it as payment."

Peli peered at it. "You got that from Zinza?"

"If you mean the old lady with the disagreeable attitude, then yes."

"Ha! How much did you pay for that thing?"

"Forty creds."

"Forty! You got ripped off."

Sinead let out a small chuckle. "I think paying anything would constitute as being ripped off."

Peli cackled and waved her away. "Keep it. Who knows, you might end up meeting a blind droid in need of an optic unit."

"I'll make sure to give you a good tip, then."

"I like the sound of that."

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

[brothershardy]

Without Me

Tagging: @minxchester @sorryimnotthatkindofdoctor / @my-malleable-muse @wincestismyguiltypleasure @amyriadofmuses @loyaltywon

Premise: In 1918, at the ripe age of eleven years old, Frank Hardy was tricked into selling his soul to a crossroads demon in an effort to save his ten year old brother from dying of cancer. The hounds claimed Frank in 1928 when he was twenty one; he managed to last three Earth years, or three hundred Hell years, on the rack, with the warping process going wrong when he finally broke, and he was eventually kicked out of Hell for being defected. He hasn’t had contact with any of his living family members since then, until a sunny spring day in 1998.

(*)

A lot could change in the span of over seventy years. Frank had seen that, never changing, always constant, always in the background. He did what he could to make up for his demonic nature, only ever going after the truly horrid souls that wandered this wretched world, but sometimes it felt like it wasn’t enough. There was nothing he could do to wash away this taint in his blood, the blackness that swirled within him.

Except for today.

He knew it was coming. He had known that things were dwindling down for some time. Like a fading string that was attached to his chest, connecting him to the one piece of humanity he had left, thin and ready to snap at any moment. And so this morning, he dressed impeccably in the clothes he had not worn in quite some time. The nineties were outrageous where fashion was concerned, though he had gotten very fond of the grunge section, with the baggy ripped jeans and the large comfortable flannels and the warm leather jackets.

No. Today he dragged out the crisp white shirt, and the tailor made trousers, the suspenders keeping them up as always. He combed his hair to perfection, adding a little grease to keep it down and groomed, and then he pulled on the jacket before heading off, teleporting straight to the nursing home where he was gently being guided towards.

This nursing home was a lot different than most. “Assisted living”, they called it; elderly folks could come here to live in small clean apartments, able to keep as independent lives as possible, with nurses and doctors and even a few nuns and priests nearby to help when being independent was nearly impossible. He breezed past the clerk, not even sparing her a glance as he compelled her to not notice him, and he made his way to the elevator, pressing the button to allow himself up on the third floor, down the winding hallways until he came upon room C505. J. Hardy was scrawled on the plaque underneath the number, and Frank allowed himself inside.

It was a pleasant little living space. Everything was so bright and cheerful, pictures on the walls dedicated to family members he both recognized from his human life, to nieces and nephews he would never get to meet. Recent Easter cards were still propped up on the living room’s coffee table, alongside a few family portraits that had been done for the holiday. In the little bowl near the radio lay a few family rings, and Frank plucked one out, sliding it onto his finger, before moving on to the bedroom, easing the door open and pausing at the sight of the elderly man laying there looking out the window, where the view of the ocean in the distance made things look almost hopeful.

Eventually, the man turned his head, and those bright blue eyes that Frank knew so well in his memories, eyes that had grown so much wiser, but never lost that spark of laughter in them, lit up at the sight of him. “Frank.” Even the somewhat wavery tone was stronger than expected, filled with so much warmth and love that Frank nearly felt breathless from it. “It’s been so long.”

“You’ve gotten old, little brother,” Frank said fondly.

Joe gave a raspy chuckle. “And you haven’t. What a shame. I guess you were always destined to be the more handsome Hardy.”

“Hey, give me some credit.” Frank smiled gently, wandering deeper into the room, and closer to the man’s bedside. “Brains and beauty, one of them was bound to fade with age. I couldn’t risk either one.”

Joe laughed again, and for a many in his nineties, he still looked younger than his age. His skin was faded and wrinkled, dotted with age spots, his freckles had faded, and even his once thick golden curls had receded somewhat into thinner, white strands. But he still looked so youthful in the eyes, a bright shining soul that could never be dimmed. It was one of his more appealing traits.

It was the first time in decades since Frank had allowed himself to get this close to the brother he held so dearly, and it made his heart ache to know it was going to be the last time as well. He could sense it, the life force that kept his brother going, beginning to fade. The Fates would let his candle burn to nothing, but at least it would be a quiet peaceful death. Joe wouldn’t suffer.

“I’ve missed you,” Joe admitted, looking to Frank like he hung the moon. “So many things happened since you died that I wish you could have been there for. You know Iola and I had five kids? Five!”

“Yes, I know,” Frank said softly.

“And of course they had to breed like rabbits, so I got sixteen grandkids, and they gave me two great grandkids. I’ve got a third on the way. Due in June. They said it’s gonna be a little boy.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. And Veronica said they’re gonna name him Frances. Keep the name in the family, you know.” Joe grinned a little. “Poor kid. That name hasn’t aged well in the past century.”

“Neither has Myrtle, but you don’t see your daughter complaining about it.”

“Hey! That was a beautiful name in the thirties. Besides, Iola chose it.” Joe sighed a little, looking fond. “Could never say no to Iola. I miss her too. She passed on a couple of years ago but you probably know about that already.”

Frank nodded, remembering Iola Morton in her own youth. Small in height, vivacious to a fault, with black hair framing a pixie shaped face and eyes so brown they looked like soil after a good hearty rainfall. She had always been Joe’s favorite date. Knowing they had married had always made Frank feel a little warm in the chest, and he had been sorry to hear she had died a few years previous. 

“It’s been lonely without you,” Joe said after a long minute of contemplation. “Sometimes I get confused, you know. I wake up thinking we’re still young and vibrant. Sometimes it feels like you’re still here.” He looked up at his brother then, the smile a bit faded as well, brows pinched with worry. “Did you suffer? When you died. I... They never told us...”

Frank could still remember that night with crystal clarity. How the howls of the hellhounds had gotten close for the last week of his life. How he spent his last evening with his family, keeping them close, letting them know how much he loved them, before going on “one last walk” before bed. How he had run, not to try and escape the hounds, but to lead them away from his family, and the feeling of their fangs sinking into his skin when they caught up to him.

“It happened fast,” Frank said softly. “I barely remember a thing.” Then, on impulse, he reached out to gently take his brother’s hand, feeling how fragile he was now, with age and as a human in general, how cool he was already to the touch. “I’m not in any pain, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh... Good.” Joe looked relieved then, and he managed to give Frank’s fingers a quick squeeze. “I’m sure Heaven is a lot more fun than this rickety old planet. I always hoped that you’d be the one to come get me. One last adventure, just you and me.”

A lump filled Frank’s throat, his eyes burning rapidly with the swell of tears he tried valiantly to keep down. Covering Joe’s hand with both of his own, he managed a smile. “Heaven is a wonder.” Or so he had been told. “It’s filled with your happiest memories. You’ll never feel pain, or hunger or cold or loneliness. It’ll be like you’re young again, I promise. You’ll be safe there.”

“And we’ve got all of eternity to catch up.” The smile that Joe gave him was nearly blinding. “I’ve done so much here. All the cases I’ve solved, the people I’ve helped. And my kids, everything they’ve managed to do to continue our legacy...”

“I know. I’m so proud of you, Joe. You’ve accomplished so much.” The fading lifeforce was getting weaker now, he could feel it. And thought it felt like his heart was shattering, Frank forced his smile to remain. “The world will be a little less lively without you in it to cause trouble.”

“Hey I don’t cause trouble. Trouble causes me.” A small laugh sounded, and then Joe closed his eyes then, sighing. “Does it hurt to die?”

“No,” Frank murmured. “Not like this. It’s as easy as falling asleep.”

“You’ll stay with me, right?”

“Every second. I promise.” His smile was shaky now, and it was a struggle to keep his tone steady. “You’re the best little brother a fella could ever ask for.”

“Well leapin’ lizards, Frank, you’re going to make me blush.”

Frank laughed quietly. And he sat there, the entire fifteen minutes, holding his brother’s hand, listening as his heartbeat slowed, and his breathing got fainter, before he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

One breath out, and then it was done.

(*)

Two weeks later, after a generous and anonymous donation to the remaining Hardy family, the funeral happened with grand respect. Like their father before them, Joe had made a name for himself in Bayport as one of the best and brightest private investigators, while also being a wonderful asset to the community. He was honored and remembered as a very kind and compassionate man who loved his family to pieces, who helped to keep Bayport running and safe, who ran programs for kids who needed the extra help, and always had an open door policy to whoever needed a shoulder to cry on, for a good long hug and a warm meal with a safe bed to sleep in.

It was a very sad day when Joe died, and his funeral had almost the entire town in attendance, with a 21 gun salute in his honor for his military services. People cried during the funeral itself, hugging each other and offering comfort, and when his coffin was laid to rest, it was beside his wife, with their parents on either side of their markers, with flowers and teddy bears being left behind.

Frank strayed in the very back, unnoticed by everyone, dressed all in black. His nieces, nephews and grand nieces and nephews all attended, and he could see them with their spouses, wishing Joe a private goodbye one at a time before leaving, and by late afternoon the cemetery was deserted, allowing Frank to finally walk up to the gravestones with a bouquet of roses in his hands to lay down over the freshly dug mound. Plucking several roses from the bouquet, he also laid one in front of the markers for his aunt, Gertrude, and his parents, Laura and Fenton, as well as Iola. 

The last marker, his own marker, remained bare. He couldn’t imagine why he would lay a flower where he was supposed to have been laid to rest after he died. It felt too strange.

Kneeling there in the grass, tears finally streaming from his eyes, all Frank could think about was his family, buried six feet below him, and wishing that someday, hopefully, he could properly join them.

[damienthepious]

it’s lizard kissin’ tuesday.... and we have done a Mean Thing. Sky @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile is responsible for the initial concept and a LOT of this besides. 

No More Changes (I’ll Still Love You The Same) 

[ao3] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, (tho not THIS chapter certainly), Curses, human!arum, (but not... because he WANTS to be), (it ain't good y'all), Panic Attacks, Overstimulation, Rilla Is Queen Of Comfort, Damien Does Not Consider The Consequences Of His Words, (tho that's not relevant until next chapter...)

Summary: Lord Arum and his Keep have fought off curses before, but they have never dealt with one quite like this. They have never dealt with a curse while having a couple of humans around to help them, either... though it remains to be seen exactly how helpful Arum's lovers will be, in the effort of restoring him.

Notes: We made ourselves sad. Now we are subjecting y'all to the sad. Am I sorry? ..... a little actually, yeah. I promise we'll make it better eventually tho. @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile, thank you SO much for throwing this concept at me and letting me just go berserk about it. I love you!!! Thank you for writing this with me!!! <3 Work title from the song Pristine, by Snail Mail. Chapter title from the song Human, by Dodie. 

Chapter 1 - Paint Me In Trust

~

It is instantaneous. Like a bolt of lightning.

Arum doesn't scream, not exactly. He inhales, sharp and shocked, and when he exhales it sounds as if he's being punched in the stomach, and he collapses to the ground, half-buried in his cape.

"Arum-" Rilla drops her recorder. Doesn't even notice it fall to the floor of the greenhouse as she sprints to the side of the lizard, going to her knees when she's close enough, but when she reaches to turn him onto his side to get a better look-

He feels wrong.

Soft. He feels soft. She pushes the cape aside, and when she rolls Arum onto his back, she finds a panting, glassy-eyed human groaning softly into the folds of the cloth.

"What-" Rilla says blankly, and the human winces, curling into a tighter ball and making a choking sort of noise. "Who-"

"A-Ama-" he chokes, a hand lifting clumsily to press at his throat. "Amaryllis-" he manages, and Rilla loses her own breath.

"Oh Saints," Rilla says faintly. "Arum?"

"What-" he tries again, and his voice is pitched so low that she almost doesn't hear how horribly ordinary it sounds. Soft. No rattle, no roughness to speak of. "Amaryllis, I- I can't-" he presses up on one arm (Rilla can only see two), but he slips, and she only barely catches him before he smacks his face into the dirt.

"Arum, I need you to breathe," she says, halfway on automatic. First steps. Baseline, while her brain races to try to understand exactly what just happened. "Keep," Rilla calls, voice understandably strained. "Keep, do you know what just- what that was?"

There is a pause, and Arum-the-human breathes short strained breaths in her arms, his muscles twitching and jerking. The Keep- sings vaguely, a song that sounds off key with itself. Uncertain, confused.

That song, that wavering, it seems to startle Arum to some sort of coherency, and he tilts his head back, squinting at the ceiling, and Rilla realizes with a sick jolt that his eyes, his human eyes, they aren't purple. They are without color entirely, pale and gray, set in a face that looks vaguely familiar but wrong, like a building remembered from childhood, with walls torn down and reconstructed past the point of recognition.

"Keep?" he asks, his new smooth-soft voice wavering uncertainly, and the Keep fails to answer right away a second time. It sings, after a long moment, and Arum's new unscaled brow furrows, his breath hitching. "Keep. Keep, I can't- speak again. I command you to-"

It sings again, and Rilla recognizes the lilt of desperation in the notes.

"Keep, I can't-" he pauses, snapping his jaw shut, and then he winces at that and presses his hand to his jaw for a clumsy moment before he lifts the hand further, his palm flexing in front of his horrified face. "What- what-"

"Breathe," Rilla says again, and Arum sucks in a breath as he lifts his other hand, and then he twists against her, his back arching just slightly, and she realizes that he's trying to move his other arms. The ones that aren't there, anymore.

"I-" he says, and then he looks up at her, pale gray eyes wide and damp at the corners. "I can't-" he lifts his hands, clumsy as they try to grip her shoulders, and she pulls him to sitting so he isn't entirely on the cold dirt, and his breaths come faster and sharper as he says, "Amaryllis I can't hear your heart-"

He's incoherent after that, for a while. Rilla nearly screams in the effort of getting the Keep to understand her, to get it to focus for long enough to open a portal to Arum's room so she can carry him (easily, Saints but this human body is slight), lift him into her arms while he just clings and hyperventilates until she can set him down in familiar sheets.

Arum keeps brushing his hands over his own skin and wincing, keeps twisting and flinching away from the sheets when he touches them, and Rilla knows overstimulation when she sees it and honestly there's a logic to that, isn't there? Arum has spent his entire life in scales, and he’s nowhere close to unfeeling, his scales are plenty sensitive in their own right but it's different from human skin and now he's- he's human, and-

She keeps trying to make her mind wrap around that. Trying to make it make sense. It doesn't, obviously.

Regardless of sense, it's true. Arum is, currently and uncomfortably, human. With smooth dark skin and grey eyes and dark hair that falls down around his shoulders in unkempt waves, with nearly a full foot of height stolen from him somewhere.

She shakes her head. Situation at hand, Rilla. One problem at a time. He's overstimulated, terrified if the look in his eyes is anything to go by. She climbs up onto the bed beside him, and when he turns his panicked eyes towards her she tries a grim, sturdy little smile, and then she carefully, gently pulls him into an embrace, arranging him so that his head is resting on her collarbone.

"Just breathe," she whispers. "Try to breathe with me, okay? I know you're scared, and that's- honestly that's totally fair, but right now you have to calm down or you're gonna make yourself ill or make yourself pass out. Just- focus on my breathing, and try to make yourself slow down enough to breathe with me."

His body presses into hers, his hands alternately squeezing her and fluttering away when the contact gets too much, but after a moment he goes still, and his breathing hitches instead of slowing.

"Hey," she says softly. "Hey, please Arum, you've gotta-"

"I can- I can hear your heart now. I- you need be this close? Amaryllis I feel- my ears and tongue and eyes and nose have been dulled by half and half again, how- how-"

"Oh," Rilla says, and she wonders if he can hear the way that makes her heart stumble with sympathy, with fear. "Oh sweetheart I'm sorry, but you have to- oh Arum-"

He clenches his jaw, clinging tighter against her, pressing his ear over her heart and pressing his eyes defiantly closed, but she can feel his shoulders shaking, can see the tracks of tears running down his face.

"Even this," he hisses miserably. "I don't- is it- is this why the poet is always-" he stops to shake for a moment. "I can't make this stop-"

"I know, sweetheart," she says in a whisper, and she tries not to follow right behind him into shaking, into weeping. "I've got you, I've got you." She doesn't tell him to breathe again. She merely rubs her hands as softly as she can on his back, holds him against her and lets him hear her steady, steady heart. She hums, and holds him, and lets his tears play out.

It takes a little while. That makes sense, too; it’s not as if Arum has much practice holding back tears like this.

“I- I’m- I apologize, Amaryllis," Arum mutters eventually, when he has managed at last to match his breathing to Rilla's, murmuring the words into the skin of her throat. "That was-” his mouth twists miserably, mortification clear on his face.

“Don’t. Arum, this is- I mean, as far as I know this is fairly unprecedented,” she says with a wry frown. “It’s a perfectly reasonable response to have.”

“Nevertheless,” he mutters, and then he pulls himself reluctantly away from her skin, sitting with a wince. He lifts his arms again, scowling as he looks down on overly soft, clear skin, on stubby fingers with blunt nails.

“So,” Rilla says, matter-of-fact. “This is magic, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he grumbles.

“And obviously, you know more about that than I do,” she says, a long-suffering sort of admission. “So, do you have any idea what could cause something like this? Any clues, any suspicions, any suspects?”

“Punishment.”

Rilla blinks. “Punishment?”

He sighs, winces, reaches a hand up to touch his own cheek. “Working for the Senate- I never should have put myself into that position. They have- they have safeguards to prevent betrayal.”

“And you didn’t think this was worth mentioning before now?” Rilla asks incredulously.

“I have been… since the Terminus, since us, the Keep and I have been layering defenses, magical and otherwise. While the Senate scrambled to recover after the loss of their weapon- I thought- I hoped I would have enough time. I hoped that I would be unimportant enough to them to slip through the cracks, but-” he winces, his hand pressing against his throat for a moment and his eyes going distant and uncertain, and then he works his jaw awkwardly before he mutters, “I sound… so strange.”

“You were layering defenses,” Rilla redirects gently, softly touching his shoulder, hoping she can draw him back before the distress overwhelms him again. “How do you think this- whatever this is. How did it get through?”

Arum ducks his head. “I… the Keep and I… we focused our efforts mainly upon the swamp itself, and the Keep.”

“What,” Rilla says, voice blank with horror. “What about you, you idiot?”

“The Keep is more important,” he hisses, his eyes slipping closed. “Protecting it is my purpose, Amaryllis. If it dies, so too does this entire swamp. And so too would I, as well. It is not entirely unselfish. If the Keep dies, everything here dies with it. If I die…” he shrugs. “I would rather not, obviously, but if I die, the Keep survives. It produces another familiar, and it continues to create and nurture life and magic in this place.”

“Rather not,” Rilla says faintly. “Arum-”

“It is not a choice I enjoy making, but it is an easy choice, in the end.”

Rilla hates that a part of her understands his logic. Most of her, though, is furious that he would discount himself that way. “Next time maybe try protecting both, jackass,” she says, her voice wavering.

He smiles, grim and strange. “Next time,” he echoes.

“So,” Rilla says, shaking her head and clearing her throat. “So. It’s probably the Senate, or someone working for them,” she says. “That’s a good theory, and I think it’s safe to run with it. So, why this? Why turn you into a human? Why not just-”

“Kill me?” He laughs. “I am certain some would have preferred that. But there is a certain… rationale to this. A clear message in the execution. I have aligned myself with humans, yes? This is all to say that if I would join them, I may do it properly.”

Rilla feels her stomach twist. “You think they know about us?” she asks, her voice low.

“Doubtful,” he says with a sigh. “Not the two of you specifically, at least. But they are aware that I was responsible for the destruction of the Hermit, they are aware that I was not cast off the edge of the world, and they are aware of… rumors.”

“Rumors.”

He glances to her, his entire expression gone soft and open. “Of a human claiming, quite publicly, to love me.”

Her heart plummets. It must show on her face, because Arum blinks in surprise and reaches a clumsy hand up to touch her shoulder.

“Amaryllis-”

“This is because- because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut? Saints I’m so-” she clenches her teeth, “stupid, Arum I’m-”

“Hush,” Arum says, frowning. “Don’t be foolish. This is not your fault, no more than it is the fault of a certain knight for failing to kill me. There are rumors of that, as well, you know. The fault lies solely with whoever concocted this spiteful little scheme.”

“Still,” Rilla says, her brow furrowed. “Still. If it contributed-”

“Hush,” he says again, the hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. “You did not do this to me.”

“No,” she says with a sigh, and then she straightens, her eyes taking on a determined glint as she pulls Arum’s hand into her own. “No, but I’m gonna be the one who helps you fix it.”

Arum’s expression falls again, open and raw, and Rilla’s heart clenches for all the ways he clearly does not know how to hide his feelings in this body.

“Y-yes,” he says, his voice wavering.

“If someone did this,” Rilla says with a scowl, “we can undo it.”

He stares at her for a moment, grateful, surprised, hopeful, and then tears roll over Arum’s cheeks again, and he swipes at his face with his jaw clenched hard as Rilla makes a small noise, pulling him close.

"The lot of you creatures can't possibly feel this way at every moment,” he mutters viciously, struggling in the effort to push back the tears, to control the shaking in his voice. “As if- as if every touch is scalding and sharp, as if you can only half interpret the world, all sense sliced to unsatisfactory fractions. As if you are but a breath from breaking at all moments. You cannot possibly feel this way."

“No,” Rilla says softly. “No, I think that’s- that’s just by comparison. Your senses are a hell of a lot keener than ours, and your scales provide a lot more natural protection. If I got suddenly put in a body like yours, I bet I’d be overwhelmed by all the new noises and smells and sights, and I’d feel like my sense of touch got all wrapped up in cotton or dipped in wax. It’d be distressing in just the opposite way.”

That makes… a certain amount of sense. Arum grumbles under his breath and winces when the noise is not accompanied by the usual growl. It feels as if someone reached into his throat and replaced his own vocal chords with some foreign flute. Not that that particular point is the worst of this, but it is distracting.

“Shit,” Rilla says softly, and Arum blinks and focuses back on her.

“What?”

“I was supposed to-” she sighs. “I have to go send an entire frickin’ flock of pigeons, now. I don’t have time to deal with my regular appointments while we’re busy fixing this.”

Arum’s heart lurches in two completely different directions at once, both grateful that she would put her work, her healing aside temporarily for him, and simultaneously wracked with nerves at the idea that she is going to leave him alone in this state, even for a little while. He swallows roughly.

She’s too perceptive for his own good, though. She notices the look on his face, and when she smiles softly he wishes he could growl at the sympathy in her eyes. He frowns instead, hoping it carries some measure of his ire.

“I won’t be long,” she says softly. “I just need to send some messages and gather some materials and notes that might be handy. Tell you what, though- Damien should be getting out of his meeting soon and he was already planning on springing a surprise visit today-” she pauses to grin a little more playfully. “Ruined the surprise on that one, but I’m sure the both of you will forgive me. Anyway, he’s free for the rest of the day, so I’ll give him the rundown and he can come through and help you out for a bit while I’m taking care of the unavoidable stuff. Sound fair?”

Arum wrinkles his strange short nose, seething that she would imply he requires help-

But he does need some measure of help, actually. Loathe as he is to admit it. He can barely manage to stand without his tail, with his legs so short and oddly bent. And Amaryllis has done very much in their time together, to help him understand that she and Damien will not judge him for this. That they want to help, when he so needs. And it is still... difficult, but Arum is trying. If ever he had no choice but to be vulnerable, now is that time. At least the universe is kind enough to bring him so low while he has such bright creatures to hold him and help him. Small miracles within such a nightmare.

He sighs, curling his arms awkwardly around his knees. “Very well, Amaryllis.”

“I won’t be long,” she says again as she slips from the bed, and then she leans back down and presses a kiss to his brow. It feels so much more vivid, the pressure more intense but less warm, on skin rather than scales. “Try to rest in the meantime, though, okay?”

“Rest,” Arum mutters derisively. “As if I can go cavorting with these malformed limbs-”

“Your body went through one hell of a shock,” she barrels on, pretending as if she didn’t even hear him. “I don’t want you to strain yourself any more than strictly necessary. Okay?”

He grumbles again, but she looks down at him sternly, her hands on her hips.

“Okay, Arum?”

He narrows his eyes at her, and his face feels hot. “Yes, doctor,” he mutters, but then he leans towards her in the familiar way, an unspoken request.

Her frown softens, and she bends to embrace him gently and press another kiss to his cheek, and before she pulls away she murmurs, “We’ll fix this. Whatever it takes.”

His throat is tight and hot and horrible for a moment, but he nods. “Whatever it takes,” he echoes, and then he allows her to settle the blankets around his shoulders before she calls for a portal to her hut.

The Keep takes a few extra moments to listen, but it does listen, and when Rilla is gone and the portal is closed and Arum is alone, and human, and alone, he finally pinpoints a feeling that has been squirming at the back of his mind since he collapsed in the greenhouse.

He feels half deafened, with these strange human ears. It is less dramatic than the weakness of his vision, or the utter travesty of his olfactory capabilities.

But his limited hearing is not the reason that all around him feels so… muffled.

Arum realizes, at last, the final strangeness of this transformation. The final cruelty. It is quiet, now that Amaryllis has left him. More than that, though. It is silent, in a foreign way. The Keep creaks around him as always, but Arum finally realizes what has been missing.

He cannot hear the Keep. Not really. He cannot feel it. He cannot sense it, steady at the edges of his mind, where its presence has always before been, sturdy and safe. Even when it slept after its illness, Arum could still feel that it was there, even if it was not aware or present. Now, though.

Now, Arum is alone.

Alone in his own mind, wearing skin that does not fit him, helpless as a hatchling without even his closest kin for comfort.

Arum closes his eyes. He does not have the strength for anything else, just now. He curls into as tight a ball as he can manage, his cape and his blankets an overwhelming pressure he cannot stand to remove, and he settles in to wait for one of his lovers to return.

[etherian-affairs]

Rescue Mission

The continued Etherian adventures of Mirak and the Horde United.

OC Story but Perfuma is here this time.

Mirak was angry. Very angry. The sort of anger only her people could know. At least presumably. Lesser species could get angry but Mirak was relatively certain that like all other emotions they felt it was a less impressive form of anger. Second Officer Cass sat nearby, watching the seven foot tall death dealer pace in their little hidey hole. Mirak was growling and cursing under her breath. A thousand combat scenarios playing through her honed mind.

They had lost Tim.

Well Tim had been captured. By Princesses no less! Flower princesses! Couldn't they tell his emblem was white and not red?! Ridiculous! Rude even! Now Tim was probably being tortured for information he doesn't have! Unacceptable! Tim belongs to Mirak! He is HER Lizard Man! Only she gets to torture him!

She has to pause to hold her breather to her mouth and take a few clean breathes. After so many without it the air really begins to hurt.

Lavender eyes, ablaze with rage, shoot to Cass, who leans back in a notably wary fashion. "Yeah?..." The human asks. Her own brown eyes showing the slightest hint of fear, her pulse visible on her neck.

"We're getting Tim back. Tonight!" Mirak declares!

"O-okay... How though... Last we saw they were taking him back to Plumeria... Like the actual... Town? City? Autonomous collective?" Cass momentarily confuses herself and honestly Mirak has no idea what Plumeria was either from a technical standpoint.

"kingdom!" She hisses out anyway. "and it doesn't matter! We're getting Tim! We'll infiltrate!" Yes! That was a good plan. A stealth mission. Mirak had much experience in those. In getting in and out of places she should not be in. Of removing people in those places from existence.

"... Um..." Cass begins. "Okay but... and I mean this respectfully. You're a seven foot tall bat creature that looks like Lord Hordak." She points out.

That was a potential problem at first glance. In space this was usually solved with her sleek black stealth armor and bad lighting but on Etheria all she has is her cobbled together gear and ridiculously good cinematic lighting. Luckily Mirak has thought this through! She had run the scenarios! Her brain was honed for these sorts of things by decades of training and indoctrination and even a fair bit of eugenic breeding and cybernetic engineering.

Mirak pushes away the little voice in her head telling her that she needs both physical and psychological maintenance very badly. Preferably before her unstable psyche and modified body suffer breakdowns. There is a mission to finish.

So instead her lavender fangs glint in the low light of the small hideout. "Don't worry little Cass, Lady Mirak has a plan."

Cass's complexion goes pale.

...

It was a good plan, Mirak's plan. Her plans are often good. This was of course due to the fact that she thinks of them. Currently the defacto leader of the Horde United was skulking in the trees at the edge of Plumeria. The sun was almost done setting and her goggles could be off for a change, letting her eyes be free!

The fact said eyes give off a very visible lavender glow was of no concern to Mirak. People tend to not notice that until it is too late for them.

Cass had been sent on her daring infiltration mission so now Mirak needed only to wait for the signal.

It was simple, elegant. Cass would head into Plumeria posing as a simple traveler and ask for a place to stay the night. Then when the pitiful sleepy Etherian natives found themselves too tired to stay awake Cass would go search Plumeria for Tim's location. Upon locating Tim she would signal for Mirak by making a specific series of clanking sounds with some pans in her gear which Mirak's superior ears would of course pick up without issue.

Then phase two would begin, Mirak would light Plumeria on fire and they would get Tim. Simple and elegant, as previously said. Efficient too.

'When in doubt, burn it all down' as her old academy instructors would say.

Mirak waits in the shadows for what must be hours. The sun goes down. Music picks up in Plumeria. They're not sleeping... This is a problem.

Etherians are weak sleepy things! They should be sleeping!

A change of plan is required. That's alright, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy after all. Mirak shifts in place, readying the makeshift flamer she had cobbled together. It's an objectively dangerous device, made out of a stun baton, a scavenged pump, and skiff fuel. It looks liable to blow up if used. She will use it to ignite the immediate area, drawing the Plumerians out to fight the fire. Then she will light them on fire as well.

Fortunately before she can unleash her righteous fury upon the Princesses and their evil trees, or just blow herself up with her makeshift flamer, Mirak's sensitive ears and night honed eyes pick out someone approaching! An Etherian woman! Tallish for them. Blonde. Flowers in her hair.

Disgusting.

"Hello?" Said Etherian woman speaks up, foolishly making herself known to anyone who might not have already detected her! "Um... I was told a Mirak would be waiting out here?"

A Mirak?! The only Mirak here is Mirak herself. This could only mean one thing... They got Cass, and are so effective at plant based torture that she immediately gave up the details of the plan! Of course she did, Cass is a little pathetic thing. Cute but not nearly as capable as Mirak or Tim.

Improvise Mirak! Improvise!

Mirak returns the flamer to her back and reaches for her hip to pull her spare stun baton up. Firing a ranged blast will alert anyone else searching. She can't run on her bad legs but if she waits her long stride should let her close on this pathetic search party of one quickly enough and eliminate her relatively quietly. The Etherian doesn't seem to have any weapons after all. A strange oversight.

"I was told by Tim and Cass you were out here? Waiting to rescue Tim? My name is Perfuma and I wanted to invite you in to Plumeria, and apologize for the misunderstanding."

Mirak hesitates! A new development?! No... It must be a trick...

Suddenly the alien warrior surges out of the brush as fast as her poorly constructed legs can take her, raising her baton and snarling. Perfuma looks stunned, eyes wide, freezing in place. No doubt the terrifying visage of one from the same species as Lord Hordak charging causes a moment of panic.

Then suddenly.

"Oh there she is." It's Tim! That's Tim's voice! Coming from her left flank!

Mirak doesn't stop her charge however! She can eliminate this princess then talk to Tim!

Unfortunately a vine that definitely was not there a moment ago trips Mirak and she tumbles over.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Tim told me you would try to kill me and that I should trip you because you have terrible feet made of scrap metal." The Perfuma creature sounds apologetic. A clever ruse. "oh my you are quite frightening though..."

More important than whatever Perfuma is saying is that Tim is a traitor. Mirak looks over to him from her place on the ground. Gauging if she can get a shot off on him and get up at the same time. He's standing in his armor, a ring of flowers on his head. He waves with one hand, biting into a fruit with the other. "Hey Mirak. I told them what was actually going on and they let me go. I knew you'd come to get me so... I've just been waiting."

"We do apologise. We did not realize the significance of his emblem being white instead of red."

Mirak looks back and forth between them before she slowly stands up. Deciding not to shoot Tim. "How can I be sure this is not some elaborate ruse?" Mirak asks with suspicion.

Perfuma's eyes are wide again, staring up at the creature before her. Mirak could probably lunge and get a bite in on that long neck before Perfuma could do any more plant trickery.

At least if she didn't have her breather on.

"It's not!" Suddenly Cass! She's approaching too! Way to go Cass, big help you were. "They're having a party and Tim was just hanging out there. Really worked out for us!"

There is a tense moment as Mirak hmms and thinks this through. Then she deactivates her baton and holsters it. "So you were not tortured Tim?"

"Not at all."

"Not even a little?"

"Not even really weak torture."

Mirak's brow furrows. Strange. They had him for hours. Mirak would have started torturing immediately!

Perfuma finally seems to regain her composure. "Um... If you promise to remain nonviolent we would be happy to welcome you to Plumeria. You are fellow rebels after all." She smiles.

Mirak looks at her two compatriots who are nodding enthusiastically.

"Very well. We shall see what sort of hospitality Princesses can give us!" Mirak Huffs! She's heard her old Madame Huff before and it feels right!

Perfuma claps her hands together. "Wonderful! I am sure everyone will be interested in seeing you as well. The children will love your ears!"

"What?" Mirak stares dumbfounded. Tim and Cass both snicker.

...

It's not a bad night. Mirak gets to terrify some people. There's music and some dancing. Mirak acquires a cool piece of wood to use for a future maker project. Also she learns that apparently she qualifies as a 'maker' and should apply for the makers guild.

Mirak will probably not be doing that.

Also there's fruit. She's not huge on fruit, preferring meat and blood, but it's okay. It's food. Tim and Cass seem quite happy about it.

Maybe Princesses aren't all bad. Some definitely can remain un-cremated.

For now.

[permian-tropos]

all right I feel shy posting this but you remember that fictober fic from last year, now on AO3 as Seed

I did do another section of it! I am fighting with all my heart not to say something self-deprecating about it

16 - “This is gonna be so much fun!”

————

“You’re awake, I see,” Rae comments, once Brentin, sprawled out on his cot in the infirmary, forms a lucid expression. He makes eye contact and creases his forehead with clear acknowledgement — ready to talk.

“And so are you,” he says. “Erm. You seem pleased about things.”

His throat sounds scratchy and his voice is thin and, while not plaintive, measured in a way that shows he’s preserving his energy. His feet must still ache, since the anchorites don’t have the means to accelerate the healing much.

It has been a full day since the two of them reached the habit house. Rae has needed the time to recover but found it dreary to lay around in bed. The anchorites suggested she join the children in their daily chores, and the pure consternation Rae’s in expression brought out the first laugh she heard from the one-eyed woman who seemed to be her appointed nurse. But she didn’t refuse, and a couple of officious little boys taught her how they boiled surgical tools and soaked bandages in diluted bacta. While bold about micromanaging her every action, they kept glancing purposefully at her as though they wanted to ask questions about her life, the war, the Empire, the galaxy beyond, but could not find an appropriate way to do so. Eventually those tools and bandages were used to treat Brentin, since his chance of recovery was deemed to be high.

Rae crosses her knees, smiling confidently at her wanner ally. “As it turns out, we might have had a lucky break. I thought this would be a setback, but…” Perhaps try not to overwhelm him with details? “We have a lead.”

But Brentin turns his head away and slumps a bit further into the meager bedding. “Oh, we do?” he says, as if it’s a further complication. Maybe he needs a few more moments to adjust.

“It was worth it,” Rae goes on, hoping he’ll catch on eventually. “You’ve been through a lot, I know, but it hasn’t been for nothing. There’s a man among the anchorites who might know why this world is important to the Empire. Well, I say he’s a man…” Sloane pauses. “He is a man. Not to the people here, to them he’s something else. We’ve found their Consecrated Eremite.”

“So that name isn’t just some legend?” Brentin tries to sit back up again. “There’s a living person attached to it?”

“He’s a strange character, from what I’ve seen.”

Rae considers inviting Brentin to join her when she meets with the Eremite, but her ally needs his rest. It would be a bit unnecessary, too. Brentin Wexley has got his own reasons for accompanying a former Imperial admiral, and they’re more personal.

What happened to him was a terrible shame, more underhanded and devious proof that the Empire could never have kept the promises it made to the galaxy. The man was brainwashed in a secret prison on the enslaved world of Kashyyyk. Rae can assume his reasoning behind his choice to work with her. If his programming got the better of him, at least he’d be far away from anyone he cared about. Over the course of their journey she did consider that they had something in common — they were looking for redemption. Like Brentin, Rae knows she isn’t who she thought she was. Like Brentin, she feels she has been controlled. She understands why he doesn’t trust himself even after the control chip in his brain was removed.

But Rae has a bit more in mind than a trial of self-discovery. This is her mission, because it is her Empire on the line, and she ought to be the one to put an end to it. Nothing else could absolve her of what she’s done, whereas Brentin did the Empire’s bidding entirely against his will. He has nothing to atone for.

So, if the Eremite is looking for someone to fulfill that prophesy, it probably refers to Rae Sloane.

“And from what you’ve seen, he’s offering information?”

“More peculiar than that. It seems I’m part of a prophesy.”

Brentin whips his head round and squints at her as if he heard her squawk like a monkey-lizard.

“Well, that’s what they think,” Rae scoffs, amused, “so I’ll just go on with it and see what it all means.”

“I’m sure you will.” He winces. “Right, now I get why you were looking so smug.”

“Oh, come on. Jealousy isn’t very mature here.”

“That’s not what I’m… ah…” Brentin is concerned, at least he’s trying to give that impression. He struggles for words. “You really think I’m jealous and not, maybe, worried about plans that were expecting us? We’re trying to break the sequence, not follow it.”

Rae hesitates as she rises from her seat. “Break the sequence?” The phrasing strikes her as odd, and it even unnerves her, because it has her wondering briefly if she’s forgotten something else she must do.

“Of the Emperor’s plan. We still don’t know what it is. I guess I thought being unpredictable was the only way to…” He shudders. “Not be someone else’s puppet.”

“You’re saying you have a bad feeling about this,” Rae offers. “I’ll be careful.” But she’s not the one who’s bedridden with an injury. Perhaps Brentin is paranoid about being put through another invasive, secret surgery now that he’s vulnerable. She deliberates, then lowers her voice. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Escaping a trap takes perceptiveness, not just blind suspicion.”

He sighs. “That’s what I’m telling you.”

“If this is a trap, we can’t turn back now. The last trap the Emperor laid got him killed, if you remember, because his enemies were much bolder than he imagined.”

“He might not be as cunning as he wanted everyone to think,” says Brentin. “But if he imagined his defeat, he may have imagined our boldness. I just feel something, like when came home but I knew I wasn’t in control of myself.” He shudders and then stills, rubs his upper arms, like he’s brushing away threads of web woven around him by a stealthy silk-spinner. “They sure put something in that sedative, didn’t they?”

“Ah.” He must mean the gas the anchorites used on both of them to keep them still. It left Rae with more of a high, while Brentin seems more anxious. “Yes, I thought so too. Let it wear off.”

Rae leaves the bedside not sure whether to pity him or admit he’s probably right to worry.

Presently, the one-eyed anchorite woman approaches her and asks if she’s ready, then leads her outside upon assent. Surprisingly, there’s no one sitting under the awning of the tent-like shrine. The anchorite takes Rae past it instead to the slope she vividly remembers crawling up with Brentin clinging to her back. The speeder remains where it was parked at the bottom, still intact as far as can be seen from here. No roaming scavengers started taking it apart for scrap, as they might have elsewhere, perhaps out of respect to the anchorites. People came here to make offerings to that god of theirs, not to steal.

“I didn’t get your name,” Rae says to the woman.

“Narawal. Come, there’s a route down.”

“Oh, frag, is there?” But it’s only a narrow, uneven, easy to miss line of steps cut into the rock, and might not have made the climb much easier. “Sorry,” Rae adds, when Narawal clicks her tongue in such a recognizable way. “No cursing.”

“This world’s cursed enough,” the anchorite says. She lets Rae walk first, and trails behind slow enough to seem almost reluctant.

“As a matter of fact,” says Rae, “that’s just what I’d like to know more about.” There’s enough of a pause that she changes the subject. “And where are we going? I thought the Eremite never left that one spot.” A possible answer comes quickly. “He’s nocturnal, isn’t he?” It’s easy to think of him as another desert animal moving as they do from a warren to the surface when the sun sets, and back in when it rises. Just like the mice.

“Yes, he is. He stays underground until the evening.”

Narawal points to a bulk of rock near the base of the hill. From this angle, the hollowed entrance on the side, rather than the outward face, is visible. If it were split into two holes by a partition across the middle, Rae thinks a bit whimsically, it might look like a nose lying on its side. Then she imagines the effect from a plume spraying from it, the gout of steam as the whole plateau sneezing.

But now all of the plumes remind her of that, as if the planet blinks up at its own harsh sun or catches grit in its sinuses and lets out that tickle in a violent burst. This world’s cursed, Narawal said, but is it sick, allergic to itself?

The Gorse system and Rae’s first captainship has always stayed fresh in her mind, but being on Jakku has brought even more of it to the surface of her thoughts. Gorse’s rocky tectonic relationship with its gorgeous crystal moon Cynda led to regular groundquakes, yet it was the moon that held the world in balance, and the mining efforts by the aggressively efficient Count Vidian — enforced by Rae Sloane — would have pulverized the satellite and brought it crashing down in pieces.

Captain Sloane, young and eager and self-important, would have allowed it. Her older counterpart can reach back easily and recapture in her mind how sensible it seemed to compromise: it would be unthinkable to bring an apocalypse to Gorse, but she was told — lied to, of course — that the planet would be bombarded slowly over the years, while its people dispersed, watching their home die by degrees. She once could believe that would be better somehow than the truth she discovered, that it would all go at once.

Jakku, too, shakes like a lie about to be exposed.

“Narawal,” Rae says, before she steps inside the nostril on the side of the plateau. “What did you expect when I showed up?”

The woman descends the roughly hewn steps with her hands clasped dutifully in front of her, face in shadow from the sun up above. “I expected you’d have a purpose here and would seek our guidance.”

“I do, and I am.” Rae puts a hand to the arch of the entrance and holds out a bit longer. “As you know, I didn’t get along well with that Niima the Hutt. I offended her. Am I likely to offend anyone again?”

Narawal draws herself up stiffly. “To speak with the Eremite, one must be cleansed in two chambers, first materially, then spiritually. First their attachments, then their preconceptions. The impatient and brash do not proceed further.”

The heel of Rae’s palm digs into a shelf of sandstone, which promptly cracks away from the tunnel archway. She drops the rock into the dust between her feet. “Right, right, right. Cleansing. Of course.” They’re going to have her sit through another dull ritual, and by now she should have learned to keep herself in check no matter how degraded she feels. I will sit this time, I will shut my mouth for once, I will be patient because there are really more important things than—

“Just go in and talk to him,” the anchorite snaps.

“What?”

“You see, Rae Sloane, if you were going in to pray to a mute hermit, you wouldn’t have anything better to do than ablutions and rites. Gives you all the time you wanted to get out of the sun and the drudgery. But he wants a conversation. He made that perfectly clear when he came out and spoke with you.” Narawal sounds a bit choked up; her eyes flash. “I know what you’re asking, no, I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect to see my friend again.”

“He’s your friend,” Rae repeats. If she doesn’t grasp this situation firmly it will probably run away from her. There’s already too much going on.

“Just make sure he tells you the truth. Squeeze it out of him if you have to.”

“Out of your god,” Rae says, almost with a level tone. It is still spoken with disbelief, without being a question.

Narawal, unmoved, peers down at her. “He’s not your god, is he? Why should you care?”

“I don’t understand anything,” Rae says. “Consider my preconceptions abluted.”

“As they should be.” The anchorite waves a hand, not bitter but resigned. “Go in.”

That’s all Rae’s going to get, then. At first the tunnel is narrow enough that going further than a few feet involves arching her back and sidling through a passage when she realizes her hips will get stuck. The tight squeeze brings up unsettling concerns about what might happen to an injured or disoriented person down here in the caves. Surely there was another way out, that decrepit Eremite himself didn’t seem up for wiggling through a crevice twice a day, and what if he needed emergency medical attention? Despite the proof that the man was surviving the arrangement, Rae worries today could be unlucky for either her or him, because you’ve got to think like that after so many brushes with danger.

Still, she duly entombs herself.

The first chamber, where she was meant to cleanse her body, is of middling size, and lit by vertical fluorescent light sticks wedged into the walls, a strange shoot of modernity growing out of primitive cracks, and the floor is a maze of finger-width grooves, like a worm-eaten slab of wood. There is nothing else in the chamber but a few tall amphorae by the walls.

“Come right through,” suggests a voice emerging as a sourceless echo from the walls, as if this cave is a cozy, presentable foyer. It’s the Eremite. After one meeting Rae already finds his voice utterly recognizable.

“You don’t mind if I skip your rituals?” Rae has no idea where to direct her reply, and turns slowly on the spot.

“We’ll come back to them later, if you wish. I want to see you first.” His voice is wistful as a curl of mist in the morning. “I’m afraid I’m impatient.”

It’s a performance. He was expecting her, and he’s prepared for the moment. Rae would like to say she’s honed paranoia to an effective art, flattery never having lulled her into an inescapable trap (some escapable ones, admittedly), but that’s what audience volunteers tell themselves as they step on stage with a hypnotist.

Remember when you thought you fancied him, first time he showed up? Rae scrapes a fingernail against her palm, unwilling to be too agitated with the recollection because it was hardly a visible moment of weakness — comes of that anesthetic gas making her so lightheaded. Heading deeper into the cavern, rounding a curved passage, Rae finds the next chamber completely unlit, a murk of pure black. Her hand immediately goes to the leftmost wall. Can’t lose her bearings.

“You’re meant to find your way by faith alone,” murmurs the bodiless voice. “Or wander for a while until you reach one of the exits. Oh it’s very tricky, actually, I really like the design of this one. I think you learn something about people from how they solve it.”

“You’ve got a maze in here?” Rae is incredulous.

“If you really want to try it,” the voice offers, sounding perked up, like he’s realized he can be patient a bit longer.

“You just said—“

“Ah, but there’s an easy way out, you could solve it in an instant, and you might just be the sort to do it.”

“So a carnival funhouse way of making me feel like the main character of my own story.” She crosses her arms. “Testing my mettle.”

“This is going to be so much fun,” the Eremite purrs. “Go on, do whatever comes naturally.”

“I’m not your brand new pet,” Rae snaps, with the dreadful tickle in her belly that assures her she’s not protesting at all, she’s bantering, and she never planned for this when she turned herself in to the New Republic, when she burned her authoritative edges to a cinder in the fire of shame. Worse than karmic punishment would be a universe that treated her with affection. She might preen under affection. She might lean into it after being starved for approval for years. “How like a god of you to be so capricious.”

“You have barely seen capricious,” he warns.

Rae turns on the spot and is about to return to the last chamber, say why not do the whole damn ritual, then? Then she sees the trick: the corridor connects two paths that lead into this dark chamber, one she came by and one leading, perhaps, to the god’s chambers. Shadows turn the slightly curved dividing wall of the fork into a trick of the eye.

Do whatever comes naturally meant get petulant and leave. Rae is rankled she’s been read so cynically, even if it was the right answer. The true believers stumble about in the dark. The ones who balk at the challenge win by giving up.

“You win by giving up?” Rae says aloud. “I hate riddles like that. It’s so cheap.”

“That’s faith for you. A maze to be transcendantly lost in until you try looking around. Yet when you know the truth, you can choose to get lost again. To take a few steps back into the dark.”

Rae takes the hidden path, which curves deeper into the earth. The voice she’s hearing starts to come from one particular direction and not echoing everywhere.

The Eremite, face hidden by a cowl, is kneeling in the center of a chamber much like the one Rae passed through before, domed roof with grooves forming ornate swirling patterns on the floor, the couple of tall clay pots standing by the wall. The two differences are the shaft of natural light that beams down on the hooded figure, and the snaking depression in the ground filled with smooth stones, like a dry riverbed cutting across the floor. The air is unusually moist for Jakku.

“Be seated, Rae Sloane,” the god-man says.

[datenightfright]

Slowly

Series: Feral

Pairing: Feral!Mother x Lizard

Summary: Lizard stumbles across a young mother locked in a closet. He sets about caring for her and her child.

Lizard watches the woman slumber away, bouncing his leg in impatient. He wants her to wake up so he can question her. What’s her name? Where is she from, why was she locked away in a closet? Goggle is next to him, poking the baby, which had been put in an old crib. “Leave it alone,” Lizard demands. Goggle grunts. “Why don’t we just eat it? It’s a waste of meat.”

“I said, leave it alone.” If Goggle hears the warning in his brother’s voice, he doesn’t listen. Instead, he picks the babe up and holds it in the air. It begins to scream, wanting to go back to the warm comfort of the crib. Lizard is about to take the baby away from his brother, but the mystery woman beats him to it.

           Lizard watches as if in slow motion as she shoots up, looks around, and dives towards Goggle. The boy is tackled to the ground, the woman letting out a ferocious screech. Lizard doesn’t move as she begins to bash his brother’s head against the ground with one hand, her baby clutched closely to her body with the other. Goggle was made of tough stuff, he’d be dazed, and have an incredible head ache when all this was over, but he could handle it.

           When the woman is done, she scurries back into a corner, shaking, shushing the screaming child. Lizard looms over a confused as hell Goggle, smirking. “I told you to leave it alone.”

*

           Big Mama puts a plate of food down on the dresser. She’s watching Lizard watch the outsider, who, in turn, was watching the both of them. It’s a marvel that the girl isn’t chained up for breeding. She’s obviously fertile. And very pretty, despite the grit that clings to her. There’s a look on Lizard’s face she can only describe as ‘love’. This revelation tickles Big Mama pink, considering its Lizard of all people.

           “She needs to eat,” Big Mama says, “And she needs a bath.” She approaches the young girl, reaching her hands out for the baby, “I watch the little one-” Before she can finish the sentence, Lizard grabs her shoulder, the woman tenses, holding her child that much tighter. “I wouldn’t,” Lizard informs her, pulling her back, “She gave Goggle quite the beating when he touched it.”

           Big Mama backs off in wonderment more than anything. Her boys were made of tough stuff. She’d seen Goggle hit by a car and walk it off like it was nothing. Now he was out in the living room, nursing one giant black eye and a massive headache. The fact that this scrawny half-starved thing managed to do that…Big Mama smiles in approval. That woman knows the joy, and the duty, of protecting her child. “Make sure she eats, even if it’s just a little. She needs to keep her strength up if we’re going to keep her.” Lizard nods, not taking his eyes off the woman as Big Mama leaves.

           Lizard takes the plate of food and holds it out to her. He wants her to come closer, he needs her to trust him. She doesn’t move. Sitting down, wanting to seem less threatening, Lizard encourages her, “Come on, I know you’re hungry.” He remembers the savage way she’d eaten the contents of the fridge. She eyes the plate, licking her lips. Deciding he’s at least safe enough to approach, she walks over to him, sits in front of him, but makes no other moves. He’s a little irritated, doesn’t she want to eat? He holds out a piece of meat for her.

           Shocking him for the umpteenth time, she leans in and snatches the meat up with her mouth, no hesitation on her part. She chews it thoughtfully. He holds up another piece for her, and she takes that between her lips as well. He’s absolutely delighted. Before he can go for a third piece, she takes one from the plate. He’s disappointed, he wanted to keep feeding her. She holds a piece up for him. He hopes it’s a way to say thanks. He takes it, enjoying the random show of affection.

           They repeat the process, agonizingly slow, until the plate of food is finished. Lizard stares at her, wondering what he should do next. Luckily, she decides for him. “Bath?” She whispers, looking hopeful. He nods, happy she could even talk. Even though it was a whisper and didn’t give him much of an indication of what she really sounded like, he liked it.

           He motions for her to follow him to the bathroom, she does so without hesitation. He runs a bath for her, thanking Brain for his big brain. At least they had running water, even if it wasn’t of the warm kind. He’s so busy trying to locate the limited quantity of soap he doesn’t hear her undressing. So, when he turns to find her standing naked, he nearly drops the bar. Ignoring his lusty stare, she unwraps her baby, throwing the blanket to the floor.

           Lizard can see the full extent how different the baby looks. The rough skin is all over its body. It has a twisted leg, and three fingers on one hand, six on the other. He watches, detached form the situation entirely, as she steps into the bathtub, wincing at how cold it is. He gulps, as she grabs his arm, steadying herself. He helps her lower herself in the water, concerned with how hard her legs are shaking.

           She’s beautiful, Lizard thinks, sitting on the toilet next to her. Unmarked, unblemished. Skin as smooth as a dolls. The only thing he doesn’t like is how weak and skeletal she is. The Jupiter clan didn’t treat the cows for breeding very well, but at least they knew the importance of feeding a woman so she can be healthy. It was like whoever kept her captive wanted to kill her. For what? What crime had she committed?  

           Her continued trembling as she splashes water over her body doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He takes mercy on her, grabbing a cloth, kneeling next to the tub. “I’m going to wash you,” He explains, feeling stupid for doing so. She watches him carefully, ready to attack should he get any ideas. It’s a slow, agonizing process, washing her body. Back first, shoulders, arms, one at a time. Belly, legs, she giggles when he reaches her feet, pulling them away. It makes him smile to hear it. Taking the rag from him, she washes her intimate bits herself. Then, she begins to wash her baby.

           She shushes it gently as it fusses, uncomfortable with the cold water. He sees that ‘it’ isn’t an ‘it’ it’s a ‘he’. “What’s his name?” Lizard asks, nodding to the baby. She freezes, looking at him to see if he’s serious. “Star,” She whispers. “Star?” She nods. “It’s a good name,” Not the name he’d chose for a boy, but it wasn’t his baby.

           Lizard decides that it must be fate that brought this woman into his life, because as luck would have it, he had a towel in the bathroom. He NEVER had towels in the bathroom. When she’s finished, he wraps her up, noticing she’s shaking again. Woozy, she pitches forward a little. He catches her easily. “I’m sorry, I’m just,”

“It’s ok,” He tells her. Hooking his arm under her legs, he picks her and Star up with ease. He looks at her, heart lurching at the look of absolute adoration in her eyes. It’s like a movie, he thinks again. He’s wanted someone to look at him like that as long as he could remember. “I’ve got you,” He tells her, she smiles and rests her head on his shoulder, trusting him completely. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”