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sm0lprism · 5 months ago

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Bite-Sized (12) - A BG3 G/t Fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

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Summary: Astarion finds Ria unconscious after her encounter with Minthara. The others are still unaware of Ria's whereabouts and it quickly backfires once Astarion returns to camp.

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: Blood drinking, gore, vampire stuff, swearing/course language.

Word count: 4.3k

Taglist: @alexcutecolly @rose7420 @empressxmachina @taters169 @feral-sins @smolgloves @smolkuriboh27 (if you want to be removed or added to the taglist, feel free to let me know!)

A rasping, gurgling sound was the only noise that came out of Minthara’s throat as more blood oozed out of the wound. The sweet, metallic scent of blood flooded Astarion’s senses and his stomach lurched. He was so hungry, and the drow was weakened and vulnerable…if he was quick, he could sate his hunger and put an end to her before any of the goblin guards decided to venture into the room.

“Y-You wretch,” Minthara managed to choke out, blood bubbling from her chapped lips as she sent him a scathing look. “Gua-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Astarion lunged towards the drow’s neck and sank his fangs deep into her flesh. He wrenched the dagger free from Minthara’s chest, more blood now gushing out of the raw wound in the process as he drank deeply. Minthara’s knees buckled as Astarion continued to drain her life force, her body growing weaker by the second. A ripple of pleasure shuddered throughout his body as he tasted the drow’s blood on his tongue, it was as rich as wine and it filled his mouth with warmth. He could feel Minthara’s body stiffen as he continued to drink, her pulse becoming weaker with each passing moment as life slipped away from her.

With one final gulp, Minthara’s body went completely limp in his grasp, and her lifeless body slumped to the floor. Astarion licked the delicious crimson off his lips, his stomach somewhat full, at least momentarily until he needed to feed again. His gaze quickly flicked across the floor and saw Ria’s tiny, broken body lying on the solid stone floor. Immediately he rushed towards her small frame, dropping to one knee, he leaned over her and his heart welled.

She was so small, so delicate. He was afraid that if he reached down to touch her, she would shatter into a million pieces. Her body was so battered and broken, one arm in a very awkward and unnatural angle, and her head was bleeding onto the floor. Hastily he rummaged through his small daypack and pulled out a Potion of Healing. Since she was so small, she would only need a tiny drop of the potion to heal. Very carefully he tilted the open bottle over her bruised body and parted her mouth open using the tip of his index finger, being very mindful not to accidentally damage her any further. A small drop splashed onto her mouth, some of it going down her throat, but a lot of it went on her face.

Gods, please be alright!

His chest tightened as he waited anxiously for the potion to take effect. He couldn’t explain why, but a feeling of protectiveness surged throughout his entire body. Never had he felt the need to protect anyone like this, let alone someone so incredibly small. He tried to push the feeling away, but it was terribly persistent, and refused to leave his brain. Perhaps it was the tadpole again, making him feel stupid things about the borrower.

The potion finally began to kick in as the purple bruises on Ria’s skin began to vanish, the bloodied wound on her head healing completely, and her arm shifted back into place until it looked normal again. Moving his ears, he picked up the very faint and small sound of Ria’s heartbeat.

He exhaled deeply, a feeling of relief washing over him, as he continued to listen to the small thump, thump, thump of the borrower’s heartbeat. She was alive.

Thank the gods…

Despite her present pulse and healed wounds, Ria’s little body refused to stir. Very gently he stroked the tip of his finger down her slender arm, but the borrower didn’t move a muscle. His gaze darted around the room, keeping a lookout for any Scrying Eyes or goblins that might notice him standing there. He needed to get out of there quick, before anyone noticed him beside Minthara’s corpse.

Cautiously, he moved Ria’s body into his hands and almost immediately he wanted to bring her closer to his chest. She was so warm, something that he hadn’t felt since he had been turned. The warmth from her tiny body quickly spread throughout his hand, and he cupped her gently against his chest before moving her into his pocket near his breast. There was a part of him that wanted to hold her in his hand for longer, but he knew now was not the time nor the place for anything like that.

“Astarion!”

The pale elf stiffened as he watched Gale, Karlach, and Wyll enter the room. All three of them stared at him dumbfoundingly, their jaws slack open as their eyes trailed over to Minthara’s bloodied corpse on the stone floor.

“Gods, Astarion, you couldn’t wait to kill someone before we got here?” Karlach exclaimed, striding over towards where the dead drow lay.

A small exhale parted from his lips as he realised that none of them had walked in when he had healed Ria. They were all still completely unaware of the small borrower now tucked safely in his breast pocket, and that relaxed his nerves slightly.

“What can I say? I just couldn’t help myself,” Astarion answered, licking the remnants of drow blood off his lips.

“Clearly not,” Karlach remarked.

“Fortunately, we need to kill all three of the goblin leaders if we want to help the tieflings in the grove,” Wyll said. “We managed to free the archdruid, Halsin, but we told him to wait in the worg pens until we had cleared out the camp.” He leaned down, inspecting the drow’s corpse. “Minthara was one of them. That means we just have Dror Ragzlin and Priestess Gut to finish off.”

“Well, I’ve just made that easier for all of us,” Astarion said somewhat smugly. “Now all we need to do is kill two more leaders and some goblins. Sounds like a great lot of fun if you ask me.”

“You weren’t seen by anyone, were you?” Gale asked, glancing around the room somewhat anxiously. “There are Scrying Eyes about, not to mention goblins everywhere. I hope you were careful.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and heaved a loud sigh. “Please, Gale, sneaking around unseen is one of my many talents. Killing the drow quietly was like taking candy from a gnome.”

“Fair point, Astarion.” Gale paused as his hazel eyes suddenly grew very wide. “By Mystra, we forgot to press Minthara for questions!”

Karlach’s face immediately fell upon hearing the wizard’s words. “Oh no, we fucking did! Shit, I promised Ria that we would do it and everything! She’s going to be so disappointed…”

“Astarion, please tell me that you pressed the drow for answers?” Wyll asked the pale elf, his gaze hardening. “This was very important for her.”

Astarion bit his lip as he racked his brain to think of what to say. He hadn’t managed to overhear Ria’s conversation with the drow, as he arrived just before she had fired a bolt of electricity out of her fingers. That was another thing as well, the fact that the borrower could do magic was truly something unusual and very unexpected. He would have to question Ria about that later.

“I do have some Speak with the Dead scrolls in my daypack,” Gale quickly said, rummaging around in his pack for the scroll.

“N-no, it’s quite alright,” Astarion swiftly interjected, realising that if they used the Speak with the Dead spell, they would discover that Ria had been there all along with Minthara. “I got all the information that Ria needed. I’ll tell her when we’re back at camp.”

All three of them exchanged glances between each other, staring quizzically at Astarion.

“You really did that?” Wyll questioned.

“That was awfully nice of you Fangs,” Karlach said, her golden eyes widening.

“I am capable of doing the right thing from time to time,” Astarion replied. “Let’s get going, shall we? We have a lot of goblins left to kill and I’m still feeling rather peckish.”

Gale eyed up the pale elf with searing scepticism, his brown gaze almost boring into the vampire’s skull as he tried to decipher his words. Unfortunately for the wizard, Astarion was an expert when it came to lying.

“I was pretty certain you hated Ria,” Gale said, his eyes narrowing. “It seems very odd to me that you would go out of your way to help her like that.”

“Well, what can I say? Even a little borrower can have its charms,” Astarion said smoothly, a grin plastering itself across his angular features. “I thought it was the least that I could do, after everything that I’ve put her through.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Gale responded, scepticism still evident on his face, but it had lessened to a degree.

“I think we should really discuss this back at camp,” Wyll said firmly, his eyes scanning the room somewhat frantically. “Goblins could walk in any second now and we have a lot of work to do.”

“You’re right Wyll,” Gale answered, heaving a small sigh. “Let’s get going then.”

As the four of them left the room, Astarion’s hand hovered protectively over the small passenger that was resting soundly in his pocket. Perhaps he was growing soft, or the tadpole was affecting his judgement, but he couldn’t deny that his undead heart was filled with worry for the tiny borrower. He could only hope that she would wake up soon, otherwise he would have a lot of explaining to do when they got back to camp.

***

“Tsk’va! Shadowheart, you will return what rightfully belongs to me!” Lae’zel growled fiercely, her hands balled into fists as she glared at the half-elf.

“You are utterly deluded to believe that it belongs to you of all people,” Shadowheart snapped back, tossing her ebony braid over her shoulder dismissively. “I won’t warn you again.”

Astarion and the others had returned to camp after successfully freeing the archdruid Halsin and eliminating the goblin leaders. Halsin had left to go inform Zevlor of the news and to deal with the druid, Kagha, and prevent her and the rest of the druids from completing the ritual in the Emerald Grove. Now Astarion, Gale, Karlach, and Wyll stared at the event that was transpiring before their very eyes. Lae’zel and Shadowheart were at each other’s throats, most likely squabbling over the artefact that Shadowheart had been carrying with her since the Nautiloid crash.

While everyone else was at a loss for words, Astarion couldn’t help himself but to smile at the drama that was unfolding.

“Oh, this does look quite a show,” Astarion smirked. “It seems we came back at just the right time.”

“What in the Nine Hells are you two doing?” Wyll exclaimed, pushing himself in between the githyanki and the cleric. “Get a hold of yourselves!”

“Shadowheart carries an heirloom of my people. I demand she return it to me at once and explain why in the name of the mother gith that she even has it!” Lae’zel hissed, her lips curling back to reveal pointed teeth.

“I’ve said this already, it has nothing to do with her,” Shadowheart persisted.

“Lies!” Lae’zel retorted. “This has everything to do with me. Now hand it to me if you ever want to see the light of day again.”

“Stop this, please!” Karlach pleaded, rushing in towards them but being mindful to keep her distance. “Shadowheart, this isn’t worth any bloodshed. Can’t you and Lae’zel meet somewhere in the middle?”

Shadowheart’s dark eyes flicked to the tiefling, and her gaze immediately softened. There was a change in her expression, as if she was suddenly feeling conflicted now that Karlach was asking her to stop. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words mustered from her lips. Heaving a defeated sigh, she turned to look directly at Lae’zel.

“Let’s leave this, shall we? There’s no point in fighting over something like this when we have the pressing issue of these tadpoles in our brains,” Shadowheart said calmly.

A growl resonated in the back of Lae’zel’s throat, her gaze so sharp it could cut through diamonds as she glared at the cleric standing before her.

“Chk! You think something like this can be settled with just words? No, honour demands I take something from you.”

“Why don’t we wait until tomorrow to sort this debacle out? We’ll be hosting a party tonight and both of your tempers will be cool enough by tomorrow,” Wyll commented. “There is no need for fighting amongst ourselves. We can’t afford to given our condition.”

“I doubt the gith’s wits will be any sharper by then,” Shadowheart retorted.

“I do not wish to spill blood here,” Lae’zel interjected, staring intensely at the cleric with distaste. “Come daylight, we will find a place to end this.”

“No, you will absolutely not be ending anything!” Karlach shouted, her skin illuminating vibrant flickers of orange fire as her engine flared. “Listen to Wyll. There is no need for any of this. Please.”

“I do apologise for interrupting,” Gale suddenly said, who had been completely quiet up until now. “But may I ask where our borrower guest is? I don’t see her anywhere.”

Astarion felt his stomach drop like a stone.

The entire camp went deathly quiet as everyone processed Gale’s words, and soon everyone was staring at both Lae’zel and Shadowheart for answers.

“We…we haven’t seen her since you left this morning,” Shadowheart said breathlessly, panic seeping into her voice. “I assumed she had just returned to her tent.”

For the first time since Astarion had met Lae’zel, the gith looked anxious. It was unusual to see her so stressed about something given her stone cold and ruthless demeanour towards most things. But right at that moment, the harsh façade she usually displayed was fracturing at the edges as worry quickly spread across her features.

“Ria!” Lae’zel cried out, immediately rushing to the borrower’s small tent. “Are you there? Answer me!”

When Lae’zel was met with nothing, she tentatively opened the flap of the tent with a clawed finger.

“She isn’t there,” Lae’zel breathed heavily, stepping away from the reduced tent rather numbly.

“Both of you were meant to be keeping watch at camp while we were gone,” Wyll said sternly. “What in the Nine Hells were you doing? Didn’t you stop and think where Ria was amidst all this?”

“Truthfully, we didn’t,” Shadowheart answered grimly. “We were…distracted.”

“Oh gods, I hope she’s okay,” Karlach said, scanning around the camp frantically. “She’s so small, anything could’ve happened to her! What if an animal got her?”

While the rest of the group frantically searched for Ria, Astarion remained silent as his stomach twisted into knots. If he pulled Ria out of his pocket now, he would be in for a hell of a beating from just about everyone, especially Lae’zel. In fact, he’d be lucky if he even survived. For now, the best course of action was to keep to himself and wait for the right moment to remove Ria from his pocket when she was awake and not in the presence of the rest of the group.

He swallowed thickly, freezing in place like a statue when he felt the dagger dislodge itself from his gums and slip towards his throat.

Shit! Not now!

The sharp blade stabbed his throat which instantly triggered his gag reflex. Instinctively he began to cough harshly, the blade jostling free from his throat and onto the soft expanse of his tongue. Without thinking, he spat the dagger out into the palm of his hand, releasing a small sigh now that the stabbing pain in his mouth and throat was gone.

Astarion quickly realised what a grave mistake that was.

He had caught the eyes of everyone in camp from coughing, and now all his companions were staring at him intently with shock as all of them gazed at the tiny dagger in the centre of his palm.

“Is that…” Shadowheart murmured softly, her eyes widening with horror as she stared at Astarion’s palm.

“That is Ria’s dagger,” Wyll said grimly, his eyes dark.

“No…not Ria,” Gale whispered softly, his face contorted in disbelief and horror. “Astarion, how could you do that?”

“Hold on, it’s not what it looks like,” Astarion said breathlessly as everyone started to crowd around him. “You must believe me. I didn’t hurt her, I swear it-!”

“Astarion, why the fuck would you do that?!” Karlach exclaimed loudly, tears beginning to swell in her eyes. “She was just a little borrower! She didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Karlach, please, calm down,” Astarion said. “I can honestly say that I did not hurt her. I know this looks bad, but, please, believe me.”

Ignoring the vampire spawn’s words, Karlach rushed towards him and crouched down so that she was eye-level with Astarion’s stomach. The tears that spilled from her eyes were almost evaporated into steam in an instant, creating a small cloud of mist around the tiefling’s head.

“Hold on soldier, we’re going to get you out of there!” Karlach shouted at Astarion’s stomach in between sobs. “Just hold on tight! You’ll be okay!”

“I swear I did not eat her!” Astarion protested. “If you just let me, I’ll tell you everything!”

“That will not be necessary,” Lae’zel’s cold voice cut through the still air like a knife through butter. “It is painstakingly obvious what you have done. I will fillet you, Astarion, and rip out your spinal cord and wear it as a necklace once I have freed Ria from your wretched insides.”

Lae’zel unsheathed her longsword and pointed it directly at Astarion. She was poised like a venomous snake, ready to strike him down at any moment.

“Move, Karlach,” Lae’zel hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with pure fury.

“Hold on, you might hurt her!” Karlach turned to face Lae’zel, her eyes puffy from crying. “We have to do this carefully if we want to get her out alive.”

“I could extract her with magic,” Gale chimed in, his hands glowing with the essence of the Weave as he began to prepare a spell. “Sit tight, Astarion, this won’t hurt a bit – but don’t think we’re going to let you off so easily. We will unleash Lae’zel and all her fury onto you once Ria is safe.”

“Chk, fine.” Lae’zel angrily sheathed her sword, not taking her seething gaze off Astarion. “I will destroy you for this, spawn.”

“Please, just listen to me!” Astarion yelled at the top of his lungs. If his undead heart could beat, it would be threatening to tear itself out of his chest right at that very moment. “For the last time, I did not eat her! If you would just allow me to explain, I can tell you what happened.”

“I think you’ve said enough, Astarion,” Shadowheart remarked. “We all know how badly you wanted to eat her since she first arrived in the camp.”

As his companions inched closer towards him, something stirred in Astarion’s breast pocket. He glanced down and saw Ria’s tiny head pop out of the lip of his pocket, her blue eyes blinking as she slowly came to her senses. Relief immediately flooded through him upon seeing Ria’s tired face staring at everyone around her. The healing potion had worked and now she was finally conscious again, and just at the right time.

“W-What…” Ria murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she drank in her surroundings. “What is going on? What happened?”

A hushed silence fell over the entire camp as everyone processed what was happening. A few seconds passed as nobody said anything, everyone was too stunned to even muster a word.

“She’s alive,” Wyll finally said. “Astarion was telling the truth after all.”

“Thank Mystra!” Gale cried, lowering his hands as the magic of the Weave left his fingertips, relief spreading across his face. “Perhaps we jumped to conclusions a little too quickly.”

“Thank the gods!” Karlach exclaimed, wiping the evaporating tears from her eyes. “She’s fine…fuck, I was almost ready to tear your head off Astarion.”

Astarion grimaced as the image of Karlach ripping his head off and Lae’zel tearing his spine out flashed through his brain vividly. He was glad that Ria chose to wake up when she did, otherwise he would’ve met a very gruesome fate.

Lae’zel’s expression relaxed, the burning scowl from her features mostly vanished but the gith was still staring at the pale elf intently. “Chk. Tell us, Astarion, why do you have Ria in your pocket?”

“Wait, you brought Ria to the Goblin Camp?” Karlach spluttered.

I suppose this was unavoidable…

He pressed his lips together thinly before inhaling a steady breath. “Yes, fine, I took her with me. But she wanted to come. All of you didn’t want her to come along, and this was important to her, so I was a gentleman and obliged her.” He flashed a small grin, but no one reciprocated it.

“Gods above, Astarion, we were going to find out the information for her!” Gale snapped, pushing towards the spawn. “It was incredibly dangerous and stupid for you to bring her along with you, didn’t you think about that? She could’ve been seriously hurt, or even worse!”

“I realise that,” Astarion hissed, his fangs flashing for a small moment as he glared at the wizard. “But this is what she wanted. And she’s perfectly fine.”

“Why don’t we ask Ria that?” Wyll said coldly.

Ria, who was still safely tucked in Astarion’s pocket, was still blinking away confusion over what was happening. Everyone fell silent as they all waited for the borrower to respond.

“Um…” Ria rasped. “I…I did go with Astarion. It was my choice.”

“But how did your dagger end up in Astarion’s mouth?” Shadowheart questioned, quirking a brow. “That is a very peculiar place for your dagger to be, and I hardly think Astarion was holding it in there to keep it warm for you.”

Astarion stiffened as his breath caught in his throat. Just how much of the truth was Ria going to say? Would she tell them everything that happened or will she lie? He hated to think what Lae’zel would do to him if she found out that he had put Ria in his jaws unwillingly. He chewed the bottom of his lip nervously as he waited with bated breath for the borrower to answer.

“I-I…” Ria stammered, her cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. “I’d rather not talk about it, please. I’m tired. Can’t we discuss this later? It’s been…one hell of a day.”

“I agree, we should discuss this later,” Wyll said, his gaze softening upon seeing how exhausted Ria was. “It’s been a long day for all of us. Besides, the tiefling’s and the archdruid will be here soon.”

“W-What?” Ria coughed, her eyes widening with shock. “What do you mean?”

“After we defeated the goblin leaders, Zevlor, the leader of the tieflings in the grove, offered to celebrate by throwing a party for us,” Gale explained. “They will most likely be here any minute now.”

Ria’s jaw slacked open as she digested Gale’s words and her eyes grew very wide. “They’ll be here…any minute?!” Her breath hitched and Astarion could feel her squirm against his chest. “Put me on the ground. Now.”

Astarion pinched Ria’s waist in between his index finger and thumb and placed her softly on the ground below. Before anyone could say anything to the borrower, she immediately sprinted away from everyone as fast as she could.

“Ria,” Astarion said softly, his chest tightened as he watched her scamper away.

Lae’zel looked conflicted, as if she was silently debating whether to chase after her or not, but the gith did not move from her spot.

“I think it’s best that we leave her for now,” Wyll said.

“Poor little thing,” Karlach murmured, her gaze forlorn.

“It may have been an oversight that we didn’t consult Ria first about having the party,” Gale commented, his brows furrowed. “Being surrounding by seven giants is one thing, but dozens of them? Now that is quite a difference.”

Wyll nodded in agreement. “It was a bit selfish of us not to think of her. But there isn’t a lot we can do about it now; we should start to get ready."

While the rest of the group began to prepare for the evening ahead, Astarion’s thoughts were distracted. A part of him wanted to go follow Ria, and he surprised himself that he even felt the need to go after her at all. He had put her through a lot today to say the least, and he wasn’t sure what information she had managed to pry from the drow. Hopefully she had found out what she wanted to know, although perhaps it hadn’t been the answers she had been looking for.

It wasn’t long before the druid, Halsin, and Zevlor with his group of tieflings arrived. They brought plenty of wine and food, much to Astarion’s delight. While he would much prefer to be drinking blood, he could make do with some wine for the time being. Not like he could taste much anyway given his vampiric nature. He swiftly opened a bottle of wine with ease and pressed it to his lips. It had to be better than the goblin beer he had the misfortune of tasting earlier that day. His expression quickly soured as the foul taste of vinegar spread across his tastebuds and he lowered the bottle in disappointment. Oh, what he would do for goblet full of blood.

Still clutching the wine bottle in his hand, his gaze scanned across the camp as cheers of celebration filled the night air. He hadn’t seen Ria since she had run off and worry began to flicker deep inside his chest as he thought about her. Shaking his head lightly, he attempted to dismiss the thought festering in his brain, but it refused to leave.

There was no use in pushing it away anymore, he had to find her. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he honed in on her scent amidst the tieflings and began his search.

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white-rabbit-in-a-snow-storm · 23 days ago

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Subject File

Name: Alice Reagan Alias: The White Rabbit Sex: F Age: 21 Species: Mutant Powers: Enhanced Physiology, Enhanced Agility, Speed, and Jump Height (Cybernetic Enhancements), and Healing Factor (Blood Consumption Required For Recovery), Animal (Rabbit) Transformation Physical Traits: Fangs, Small Stature, Albinism, Scar across mid-face Equipment: Bionic Legs, Gas Mask, Headgear, and Tracker and Control Chip

Handler: @angoras-lab Trigger Words: "White Rabbit, Fall, Blood, Shattered, Snow, Dance, Innocence, Killer, Lake, Orphan" (The Smell Of Blood Must Be Present) Specialty: Extortion, Extraction, Intelligence Gathering, Infiltration, and Surveillance

Mod File

Name: D. Age: 18+ Pronouns: Any Notes: Mod has anxiety and may not interact first. Mod is also in school and works, so there is no posting schedule -- it's a post-whenever-available sort of blog

About This OC: This is Alice! She's He’s a new experiment and asset of HYDRA's, though they've been taking extra care of him since they lost the Winter Soldier and the Weapon X Program failed. He’s trans and an age regressor to cope with being trapped in the closet (and ofc to alsp cope with what HYDRA has been doing to him)

To Note About This OC And Blog: I may or may not have made Alice to project onto the most. If I have an exceptionally bad day, so will Alice.

Side Blogs: @hydra-supreme-leader, @totally-not-a-cosmic-cube, @russian-nesting-doll, @the-beast-of-hydra, @mother-hare

#mutantblr #marvel rp #mcu rp

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cookie-crumblr · 1 year ago

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Hype Train! Little Mouse~

F!Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 1~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2

Hype Train! 1, Part 1, here!

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, pet names ( pretty, pretty girl, little mouse, mousy, ), option for multiple partners(not poly or romantic, purely sexual) knife play, chase/primal play, blood play, blood consuming, almost oral on f!,

from this point on anything on “Hype Train! Caged Birds” will be the pregnancy path! i will be posting “Hype Train! Little Mouse!” parts as well, which will be the NON pregnancy path! Love y’all! hope you will enjoy 😚✨

“Are you serious?”

Jasper’s smile reminds you of a cat about to play with it’s meal.

“Really? What’s your plan anyway?” You swallow, “And…” you pause, looking over the cute gray and pink ears and tail. “Why a mouse…”

“You’re perfect prey, pretty. Why not a mouse~” His voice takes on an almost growl, fueled by a rapt starvation.

You take a deep breath in fruitless effort to calm your pounding heart, “O-okay… But then, why the maid dress…?”

“Personal preference” His grin widens showing off those fangs again.

At least he’s honest.

“Well… W-what if i can’t tell you apart?”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?? hmmm?”

“Oh! sorry, forgot my eyes!” Dev.In chimes in, and their eyes dim…

You can no longer tell them apart at all. You know Jasper was on the left…. Wait… O-or was that just Dev.In on the left. Their left? or your left… Wait no that doesn’t matter. Fuck.

“If you can do that why even have glowing eyes in the first place?!” You’re just frustrated and find the first thing to complain about.

They both shrug in unison and say “Personal preference,” in the same voice… With the same tone and stupidly hot inflections.

You grunt and spin on your heel with the box in hands to go change somewhere, before you feel a hand on each shoulder stopping you…

Your eyes glance between each… Sure the hands look the same. same paleness, mirrored veins and black painted nails, even rings on the same fingers.

But you know they belong to two separate beings. Your sigh is shuddery and drawn out, before they both step around you, boxing you in between them.

Oh gods…

They could’ve even switched places now that you looked away.

“Why don’ cha change righ’here, Pretty little mouse~”

You look between them both as they lean around you into your peripheral veiw, and you swallow over a swiftly growing nervous lump.

“kiddin’ pretty, we’ll go and give ya a head start. Jus’member, say avocado nd sall over. Kay?” The one you’re assuming is Jasper, grabs your jaw to roughly kiss you before the both leave.

A minute later you’re changed and ready. You walk around the house, it’s huge, with floor to ceiling arched windows, looking outside as the sun is setting through the trees is nice, but you’re trying to not get too distracted.

They’re on the hunt for you.

You didn’t think it would be that fun, or scary at all… but the anticipation and the knowledge they could be anywhere is really getting you there.

They aren’t gonna hurt you, hurt you. But every slight creak in the old building, makes you more and more on edge and alert.

Your hair stands on end.

The echoing clicks of your kitten heels on the wood.

Your beating heart in your ears, to almost swearing you can even hear your blood pumping through your veins.

Just the thought of them popping out around any corner is positively… Thrilling.

Your panties are cool from the dampness in the open air beneath you.

Suddenly a thunderous cacophony of thick glass shattering erupts from behind you!

Shards falling throughout the hall are so loud, and they sound close enough to touch you, though none even get close.

SHIT! It’s really happening!!

You don’t even turn to look where that sound came from, or what it even was.

Or who made it.

You break into a sprint down the hall and through an uncountable number of doors into darkened rooms.

They did say they had a couple surprises, yet you definitely did not expect property destruction!

Eventually you find yourself at a dead end… A room with only one door in or out.

You have to hide!

Quickly your eyes scan, falling onto a large wooden desk.

You crouch under it and catch your breath. Enough time passes that you almost stand, before…

*Bang* You flinch. *Shriek*

*BANG* it’s closer this time. *SHRIEK*

*BANG!* your body is trembling. *SHRIIEEK*

something is hitting the walls outside this room.

It sounds like…

A knife?

Stabbing the wood panels in the hall, and being ripped slowly back out. You cover your ears at the screeching, shredding of wood chipping.

You feel tempted to look.

Slowly and shakily you peer around the edge of the desk.

It’s one of them, entering the room, with a sinister cat mask now adorning their face.

It really is a knife! A huge freakin knife!!!

That wasn’t in the game description either!!!

What the FUCK.

Eyes wide you wait for them to enter the room all the way and then make your move to dash out.

There’s only a few places to hide in here, they would have found you eventually.

Luckily their back was turned, they’re looking into one of the other hiding spots; a closet. Giving you yet another head start.

“Haa haa” you puff out air as you run through more hallways.

*CRASH* You hear the sound of a window shattering only seconds before an arm yanks you by the neck and knocks the air from your lungs!

“Got chu lil mousy~”

You gasp for a minute, unable to breathe from the sudden shock. You kick into the air as they hoist you up by your upper body.

You land a kick to their shin, your heel makes them hiss, and you hear them laugh lustily.

They let you go long enough for you to run, by them time you turn your head forward to look where you’re going—*SMACK* right into the other Jasper’s chest.

They’re both here now, both with the same cat masks, and both with knives.

Footsteps behind you cause you to spin. Once you’re looking away from the one you ran into, they grab you by an arm and hold their knife up to your neck.

You freeze.

Eyes wide, you contemplate the safe word…

The one that’s walking towards you freezes, as if waiting for you to say it.

When you don’t, they continue their approach.

You lock eyes with their mask.

Once they’re close enough they push the knife against your stomach through your dress.

You feel the poke and suck in reflexively.

They trail it down, down, down so slowly to your middle. Every muscle in your boxed in body tenses.

They put a little pressure down there, and you feel the point through the fabric pushing up between your folds.

You push your body back taught against the Jasper that’s behind you, making small little grunts, and twisting to get away.

The knife moves away and you breathe.

The blade against your neck presses harder and you suck in again, as if you forgot it was there.

The Jasper behind you slowly trails the arm that held yours down your body. They lift you by your left leg, you hop helplessly before your right leg is just hovering slightly above the floor.

You feel the coolness of metal on your thigh now. Front Jasper is using it to lift the fabric of your frilly skirts.

The Jasper takes your panties and cuts them open.

Your wet pussy gets hotter when the cold air roughly slaps it.

“St-stop…”

“When you say stop now, it means

be rougher, kay?”

How rough will he actually get with you?

The blade’s tip ghosts over your flesh, he gradually applies more and more pressure until you feel it slice your thigh.

You let out a hiss, as the liquid creates a warm river trickling down your leg.

The Jasper lifts his mask enough to lick your blood straight off the sharp blade.

He crouches down in front of you, and you feel a little embarrassed as he ogles your cunt.

Barely able to even wiggle in the other Jasper’s grasp, you turn your warm face away.

The one on the ground, leans forward, he squeezes your thigh hard before slapping it.

Small drops of your blood splatter across his exposed lips, he licks them, savoring your flavors.

He brings his lips to the still bleeding cut, and swipes a slow stripe up with his flattened tongue to collect as much as he can.

Then he moves his face over just a little to your exposed pussy, you can feel his breath against you, and you push yourself harder into the other Jasper.

His breath is so hot against you, the anticipation has you whining and whimpering and you hole squeezing nothing.

You crave the contact so, so bad! “Stop! Please! St-stop!!” you groan, and writhe, hoping he’ll take mercy and fuck you right now, you don’t even care with what.

He trails his blood soaked tongue up your slit before pulling away again.

He brings his face to your dripping hole, and you sigh, shuddering with excitement. “Oh my god, please,”

“Y’almost sound like ya wan’ me to continue~”

Your brow furrows. YES. You do. You let out a grunt, and switch your focus wholly to the knife against your throat, and that Jasper. “N-no! Stop! Lemme go!” You squirm.

The knife presses harder, goosebumps rise over your body, if you squirm even a little now, it feels like it’ll cut you. Your body stiffens, and you hold your breath.

You feel Jasper’s hot breath grace your quim, again “haah” he finally leans in to tease and suck at your lips, before moving to swirl around your hardened clit.

He was right. Being chased and exhausted, and just wanting it so bad, leading up to them catching you. It feels like ecstasy, it feels like a well deserved reward.

You’ve been so good!

And good girls get their rewards, don’t they.

The heat in your core becomes unbearable until—

He pulls away, “Ya know, you got us both too excited t’day, Pretty. Wha’do you say? want both our dicks inside you?”

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jumpywhumpywriter · 4 months ago

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The Experiments

Warnings: mention and threat of torture, shock collar, restraints, magic

Shadow, my favorite OC of my in-progress fantasy trilogy, is one of a near-extinct species of creature that look like humans, but with wings and fangs... and magic. She has ice powers, and she is in Jackal captivity, an organization that wishes to find a way to weaponize her gifts and power. Let the experimentation begin!

Shadow quietly fumed while she was led by guards into a bulletproof room full of targets and metal cutouts of people. She wore metal cuffs on her wrists with rows of inward-facing spikes that prevented her from using her ice powers. If she did, the metal would contract with the cold, sinking its sharp teeth into her hands. Her powers were useless with them on, and that was exactly the point: to have her like a cat with its claws removed. Less dangerous. And even if she did somehow find a way out of the cuffs, she still had the shock collar to worry about.

She reluctantly let her guards shepherd her into the room, watching as they backed out and shut the door, leaving her alone.

"Hello again, my favorite subject," Sebastian's venomous voice purred from a speaker mounted in the corner.

Shadow glanced to the side where he and a few other Jackals were sitting in an observing room, safe behind several layers of bulletproof glass.

"Pfff, cowards," she grumbled under her breath. "Wouldn't stand a chance in the same room with me without these cursed restraints." She cast them all a cold glare that could wilt the petals off of roses. "And what would you have me do today, oh smart mouth?" She sniped.

Sebastian chuckled, and she watched him hold up a black remote where she could clearly see it through the thick glass. Her hands instinctively tried to twitch up and grab the shock collar encircling her neck out of habit, knowing how painful it would be, but she forced herself not to flinch, refusing to give him the satisfaction as he pressed a button... and no shock came.

Instead, the spikes on her wrists cuffs retracted, followed by the cuffs themselves unlocking and falling to the floor with a clunk. Surprising. Shadow couldn't help rubbing the chaffed, raw skin where they'd rested with a wince.

"Here's your task," Sebastian's voice crackled in the speaker, "you are to stand on the strip of black tape you see on the floor, and strike every target in the room. If you refuse, you get zapped. You know the drill."

Shadow scowled viciously, but grudgingly shuffled over to where the tape was. She hated giving in, her mind screamed at her to keep resisting, to fight back more... but she'd figured out a long time ago that all it did was make things worse for her in the end. She needed time to save her strength for an escape attempt, not waste it on petty shows of defiance. So she swallowed her snarky remarks and took up a defensive stance, shaking out her hands and narrowing her eyes. This day she was extra mad.

With a low growl, she flung a hand out at the nearest metal target with a fierce, focused intensity, packing all her anger and pain behind it. The frustration of being kept in captivity for so long. The resulting icy blast was so powerful it ripped the target clean off its stand, sending it smashing into the wall behind with such force it left a noticeable dent before it shattered like glass as it hit the floor, covered in ice. The cold made it brittle and weak.

Then she lashed out at all the other targets in rapid-fire sequence, her hands a blur of motion, striking every last one with deadly accuracy until they were all reduced to pieces of shattered metal on the floor. She breathed hard, feeling the overwhelming wave of nausea and exhaustion catch up to her that always came from using too much magic at once, but she took pride in the terrified looks of those observing her behind the safety glass window.

That's what kind of true power I possess, she thought angrily. The kind that you'll never be able to control.

There was a long moment of stunned silence, and Shadow wondered what the Jackals' reaction would be.

"All right, that's enough for today. Put the cuffs back on." Sebastian's obnoxious, polished voice finally sounded through the speaker, wobbling slightly. Shadow hesitated, staring down at the spike-lined cuffs still laying on the floor.

"Don't make this more difficult for yourself. Put. Them on. Now."

She felt the metal shock band on her neck start to buzz in warning, and wasn't in the mood to deal with the consequences of being rebellious. Now was not the right time for it. She leaned down and picked up the cuffs, locking them back onto her own wrists with an irritated eye roll, grimacing as they settled uncomfortably against her skin. As soon as they were in place, three guards came streaming in, approaching her cautiously and guiding her out of the room and back to her cell, giving her a wide berth the entire way, which she relished.

They're afraid of me. And they should be, she thought triumphantly. Word must have gotten out about the guard she had attacked, as well as the many others that had narrowly escaped her vengeful wrath. They all knew better by now than to tease or taunt her, even indirectly when talking to other soldiers within earshot.

Masterlist

Masterlist #2

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump @otterfrost @sausages-things

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pininghermit · 1 year ago

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Dare I Desire (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Adrian x Male Reader

AN: Introducing a bunch of OCs

“How do you know my name?” Adrian asks you, who sat opposite him. He was still taking in the clean castle and changed surrounding and now this… The plate of food in front of him felt foreign. How long had it been since he had such food and not just alcohol.

“Why yes Adrian, it is nice to meet you too. My name is y/n by the way.” you cross your legs as you rest your head on the chaise’s arm. As if the debacle in the storeroom never happened. Adrian felt a pulse of annoyance the more time he spent with the intruder.

Stormy grey eyes stared back at him in a silent challenge. The suave smile that concealed fangs similar to his was equally infuriating. Anger, rage, wrath Adrian felt them all at once.

“Ai, don’t glare at me like that!” you said in pseudo hurt voice with an extravagant motion of your hands. “Believe me,” with a dramatic hand on your heart you continued. “I will tell you everything but right in sequence. I will reveal to you who I am and my reason for being here but before that we need to go back in time. The story goes like this-

Long ago, maybe decades, maybe centuries or maybe millennia ago there was a world that housed both the evil and the good equally. Elves, men, vampire, dwarves, faerie, even dhampir must I say, lived on the same planes. In those times monsters were not labeled by a kind. It was the deed that labeled right and wrong, not the specie or race.

However, such a world had to come to an end when humans grew. With their growth came the need for land, the need to conquest and conflict. Soon the world that once housed all now fell into the struggle of survival and death. One had to die for the other to live.

Wars raged and monsters came to being. Our kind was not different. Born with unageing bodies that withstood decay our kind wielded the weapon of pride. But that’s just the boring part of history. Do you want the juicy part?” Adrian blinked. He had been too engrossed. Almost enough to forget about the vampire sitting in his study.

“Ahh I must say my story telling skills are quite impeccable.” Ignoring Adrian’s snarl, you continue. “Let’s skip a few years. So, the humans, vampires, elves, fae fought blah blah blah. You know the boring parts.” No. Adrian in fact did not know. None of the books in his father’s study mentioned this. Whatever you were spouting. All his curiosity was shattered by the man child, who probably was way older than anyone he had ever met. Adrian would not grant you any of his curiosity.

Slouched on chaise you spoke of war like a bedtime story. “Whatever my parents were pretty sick of all that and decided to leave the humans alone. They created a veiled world for us magical folk. Of course, superior to the rest.” If obnoxious were a person, it would be you, who sat, in front of him.

“In return they pledged to give up on blood. A bargain made with the spirits of the land that offered them a hidden valley. And so came to be Asor, the kingdom and refuge for the beings of the past world. Humans were given their world and we were given ours.

With peace came time and oh boy did my parents use it well. Now, now no judgement of course but I do have six other siblings.” Well, that was hard not to judge Adrian wondered.

“Eldest are triplets Cenfrith, Estrid, and Rowena. Close knit than any of us. They gave up their right to the throne for the sake of their weird bond. Don’t ask me…I don’t know either. Then came Yorick, the second eldest or fourth if you do the math. He rules now. Being the most responsible of us it made sense.” Despite the light manner of your speech Adrian could sense the tightness in your voice at the mention of Yorick. A weird tension that did not suit you.

“After Yorick is Harold, the artist of our family. A lone soul, very hard to find on any given day. And then comes Saewig ten years older than me and the menace. Brutal with his words and bows Saewig is the hunter who is almost is a beast himself.” You take a deep breath and pause as if to gather your marbles after that long list.

“Last and the most precious is me,” you gesture extravagantly. “Of course, having me made my parents realize that a greater perfection could not exist.” With an unabashed smile you jump up from the chaise.

“And how does this all matter to me,” Adrian mutters his heart beating wildly with an emotion he did not know of.

“You,” you point with a finger that makes Adrian want to snap it. Somehow you are now sprawling on his couch, “have the immense privilege of being the mate to the youngest lord of Asor.”

A second later you crouch on the floor as Adrian’s fist throbs from the impact of his punch. Unfortunately, Vampire bones don’t break easily.

#alucard #castlevania #alucard x male reader #castlevania alucard x reader #mates au #male reader

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ghastghoul · 28 days ago

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My Transformers OC compilation, for funsies:

Okay so the first OC that I designed while watching the G1 cartoon and Transformers: Animated for the first time in forever was Shift Click.

G1 Design (with a bonus sketch where I drew him in a comic style):

I'm not too great at drawing vehicles atm so I decided to make a minibot that became a computer mouse to make up for that. I'd like to think that his best ally/friend would be Blaster since he was actually my favorite side character from the Autobot roster, along with Jazz. Shift Click the type to take up human culture like a sponge but isn't very open about it and he enjoys humanity's various takes on robots in media.

Transformers Animated Design:

In TFA I see him as more open, but he never sees Earth. He hates Sentinel whenever he sees the mech and he's honestly a bit isolated by what he does. When his skills aren't being used to get intel on the enemy then he's not doing much as he's on the lazy side. I'm not sure if his alt. mode is the same as his G1 counterpart (computer mouse), honestly.

I also played around with the idea of him as a Decepticon, not canon to his lore but for fun:

Then I have another TF:A OC named Pulldown:

His alt. mode is a drive-in theater projector. He's an ex-Decepticon that used to work with Swindle, his projection abilities once being used to show off products Swindle tried selling before having a falling out. Pulldown tries very hard to hide his past but he honestly sucks at it, poor fella. He also lies when he ends up on Earth and claims to be part of Autobot intel, but that's debunked fast and it forces him to be honest.

Now we've got my wonderful ✨️babygirl✨️, my ✨️pookie✨️, my love - the Beast Wars OC I designed named Shatter Fang:

Shatter Fang's beast mode is a Moray Eel. His protoform was thought to be lost to the sea after the Predacons dropped his pod into the salty waters below their battle ground, devastating the Maximals trying to salvage him. Cheetor later finds a moray eel swimming oddly close to the water's edge and realizes what happened, that the protoform had not only survived but had taken on a beast mode, and he's elated when he gives Primal the good news.

His processor is a bit wonky as he often confuses similar words with eachother when speaking (Ex: instead of saying "My apologies," he may say "My sorries"), but he has a respectable spark and (later on) the passion of a warrior. When he meets the Maximals he's wary and afraid. Optimus Primal decides to let Dinobot act as his mentor, teaching him how to fight in this war; but when Shatter Fang encounters a Pred for the first time he fumbles and attempts to run from combat, at least until Dinobot accuses him of being a total coward unworthy of respect. After helping his new allies win the fight he decides to dedicate all his energy toward earning the respect of his mentor as well as his other Maximal brethren.

And finally, my newest OC named Wavewader:

Since he's so new I don't have too much on him at the moment, but his submarine alt mode was actually inspired by SuBlue Water Scooters and just stylized submarine/ship designs one may see in animation.

If I had to give any feel for his personality so far, it's very calm and easy to be around. He gets down to business as it's needed.

#transformers #tfa #transformers animated #beast wars #transformers beast wars #transformers oc #tfa oc #transformers animated oc #beast wars oc #transformers beast wars oc #oc: shift click #oc: pulldown #oc: shatter fang #oc: wavewader #my art #oc comp

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onegianthotmess · 4 months ago

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Random Facts About Some of My TWST OCs

Celena is half beastman, but somehow didn’t get ears and a tail despite having many behavioral and a few physical traits of Dalmatians (clawed fingernails, fangs/sharp canines, spots/tear marks on her cheeks, energetic, keen sense of smell, yips/barks when excited or when she senses danger—just naming a bit of a list here)

Mealodie and Malleus were actually born as eggs at the same time, technically making them twins, but she took thirteen extra years to hatch from her egg

Miranda had a really hard time making friends as a child due to her family curse, so Vil was really the only friend she had until she started to learn to stop herself from blurting out her thoughts

Morel loves blood oranges so much that she has two of her own trees that grow blood oranges and she takes very good care of them

Lucienne can talk to plants and will have full on conversations with them without noticing the weird looks people give him

Yvette’s birth/given/dead name is Yaakov

Miranda’s hair is short because she tried cutting it herself when she was a kid, but fucked up and Vil had to cut it for her to fix it, so now she just has Vil do her hair and thinks he’d make a great hairdresser if he wasn’t already an actor/model

Celena is actually very fast and stronger than people think she is, despite her small size and she actually beat Jack in an arm wrestle and goes to the gym with both him and Vil

Morel can fluently speak German

Rayne is fluent in Dutch and Italian and only flirts with Jade in either of these languages purely because she’s too shy to flirt with him in English because then everyone else would be able to understand her (Jade doesn’t know what she’s saying either, but he knows she’s flirting with him and loves it)

Mealodie sometimes can’t sleep even though she wants to, so she will go to Lilia and ask him to read her a bedtime story like he did when she and her brother were young

Yvette has videos of Morel pole dancing while drunk and uses them as leverage to get Leona to do something whenever Morel isn’t around because she knows they have a thing for each other (And before anyone thinks that this means Leona pleasures himself while watching the videos, know that that is incorrect and he admires just how beautiful Morel is and is impressed because pole dancing requires stamina, strength, and a lot of training because of how difficult it is. Leona is a respectful boy who is constantly drunk on his respect woman juice)

Mealodie once shattered all of the windows and glass objects in Diasomnia because she got so lost in song while singing one day

Miranda will pick outfits for and do Vil’s makeup for him if he’s really nervous about an audition or performance coming up and will give him a kiss on the tips of his fingers on his left hand for good luck

Morel had a relationship in her second year of school at NRC and it lasted until she finally broke at the beginning of her third year because her then girlfriend was manipulative, emotionally abusive like her mother, and a cheater; this relationship made Morel a bit jaded when it came to love and have trust issues later on and it even negatively affected her relationship with Leona when he started openly, yet subtly, showing his interest for her

Celena never actually had any romantic relationship before she began dating Deuce; despite this fact, she had a rumored reputation of having several secret partners and this went so far that some guys and girls said that they actually dated her before, but Celena quickly disproved each of these false claims despite never completely shaking the rumors of having relationships before Deuce

Rayne has a subconscious fear of vases due to the fact that her mother smashed one over her face, almost completely blinding her left eye, when she was seven and Rayne only started going to therapy for this fear after she had a mental breakdown from seeing Floyd and Jade carrying vases to be set on the tables in the Monstro Lounge

Miranda always accompanies Vil to his performances and photoshoots because she wants to support him and his craft he’s so dedicated to and they get away with this due to the cover story of Miranda being a good friend who helps Vil out so they can keep their relationship (and the fact that Vil sees Miranda as a very loving and endearing good luck charm) secret from the public due to Vil’s massive fame

Mealodie actually has a cute little kitten sneeze and it’s even cuter because she blows a little smoke out whenever she sneezes, causing a cycle of two to three, sometimes four, kitten sneezes in quick succession due to the smoke tickling her nose

Lucienne heals up pretty fast from any injury thanks to his healing abilities, but he somehow stays sick for days on end on the rare occasion he does get sick and it baffles even his family

Yvette has made sleeping potions and slipped them in Crowley’s drinks a few times just so she could work in peace without having a giant mess to clean up afterwards

Celena found an old picture of Deuce with his bleached hair in his dorm once and she couldn’t stop laughing at it because full blonde hair was definitely NOT a good look for Deuce and now she uses it as ammo for arguments about outfits and hairstyles with him

Mealodie knows several old languages that aren’t spoken or widely known anymore, but she and Malleus speak in them whenever they want to talk about something private around other people and everyone is confused about it

When they were young, Morel would often put noise canceling headphones on Riddle and Rayne so they could sleep while their parents argued at night and Morel always covered her ears and tried not to sob whenever her parents had these fights because most of them were about Morel due to her having mandated visitations with her father every weekend because of her parents’ separation (though they’re still married for whatever reason-)

Lucienne can actually make flowers and trees and other plants grow and control them just fine without magic and when he’s asked about it, he simply replies “It’s just something that I do .”

Miranda was actually almost placed into Scarabia due to her gift of fortune telling and the Dark Mirror had to think for a moment before deciding to put her in Pomefiore due to her talents in potion making, value of appearance, and her love for Vil

Celena gets mad whenever anyone teases her about her body because, in her words, she is “fucking built like a stupid cereal box” and she hates it (her build is like a very petite hourglass, there’s some curve and a little boob, but not a lot)

Yvette fluently speaks Russian and Spanish and calls her father “Папа” (Papa) and her mother “Mami”

Mealodie always let Silver play with her hair when he was little and now she asks him to do it for her since he’s really good at it

Miranda can travel through almost any kind of mirror thanks to her family’s connection to the Dark Mirror and mirror magic in general and she accidentally jump scares everyone (except for Vil since he’s used to it) whenever she pops up after traveling through a mirror and into the room

#just felt like doing this #don’t ask why because I don’t know either-#twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #morel rosehearts #lucienne blumme #mealodie draconia #celena dalmaine #miranda shards #yvette asesoría #rayne rosehearts

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lorei-writes · 10 months ago

Note

Congrats again Lorei! 🐥🐥

If prompt 4 for Leon interests you, I hope you'll give it a shot (I'm interested to find out what it would entail 👀)

Aye, thank you! <3

We've talked about it before, so well... This work features an OC of mine. I suppose it really did end up being interesting in all sorts of ways >:)

»All the things we choose to share«

Leon x OC (OC Chart: Viva) ~550 words Content Warnings: none

Silent Rhythm

Light dims, flames perched on the chandelier trembling to then curl into themselves. Vibrant lords and ornate ladies huddle over the ballroom floor, half-submerged in gossip shallows. They puff out their chests, embroidered silks of their suits and gowns their plumage, golden rings taking the place of talons. Eyes cast towards the entrance, they wait. The door opens.

Mea culpa.

A woman steps forward, dressed in just a plain linen dress. Rags intruding on riches, blonde curls fall over her shoulders, disorderly and unbridled like the freckles marking her face. The guests frown and scowls twist knightly faces, handsomeness souring at this dishonour. Irrelevant; proud like a starved lioness, Viva marches into the hall that does not welcome her. Candle flames spin themselves into a thread. At a flick of her wrist it becomes a gown, ephemeral gold softly enveloping her limbs, a tiara crowning her mane. Noblemen and noblewomen fade away one by one as she treads onwards, indifferent towards the marbles, the feast, velvets, foreign fashion, noxious remarks or nebulous complaints. The heels of her shoes plink like glass. Swarms of spurred whispers buzz.

Have you not had enough? How much more can you take from us?

The cage of rumours falls. All turns to black – black like his hair, like the soil that had once been his bed. It is just him, just them. Leon offers her his hand, the amber of his eyes shimmering like gold when exposed to her flames. Viva accepts his invitation. She burns, her touch the scalding guilt brought by that single coin. Callouses to callouses, they are joint. Leon opens his mouth, but her chest presses against his, her breath silently caressing the shell of his ear.

We are both fakes, little slave boy. So keep your mouth shut, hm?

Of course; Leon places his hand on the small of her back. Her laughter is the sound of a collapsing sun, the ballroom replacing the void. Viva leaps to the left, and he follows as if in her palm, as docile as a circus lion when in presence of her hurt. He grasps at her fingers, brings her closer still. Almost as one, they move. She leads. He leads.

Whatever happens, I will not proclaim you the king.

From fire to ashes, Viva withers, her cursed gown dimming with each swirl of her skirts. Her feet seem heavy or weighted down, each step more of a stomp, ungracefully bound to the floor. She struggles, but for what? Her movements lose their power, thundering roaring inside her chest being replaced by hollow quiet. The fire has cooled, so Viva withdraws, a smile of a penitent on her lips. Her heel breaks for her due fall to begin.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.

…

Who said I would let you go?

Leon catches her hand. He chases what is left of her, breathes new life into fading smoke, raising winds just one step short of tearing her apart. Glass shoes shatter as he forces her to discard them. Shame vaporises, guilt lies forgotten, penance, sins, retribution and revenge – all is irrelevant as they dance, freed of any prior inhibitions. Warmth blazes anew. Leon holds onto Viva, so very alive and living, his phoenix reborn. She clutches back at him, perhaps understanding that he too has been resurrected once.

Nobody. Nobody did.

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti @claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

#leon dompteur #ikepri leon #ikemen prince leon #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen series

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tonurseanopenwound · 1 month ago

Note

do you have any pinterest boards, wikis, stories, etc) of your ocs i can indulge myself in

throws a tantrum i dont have pinterest boards of them qq im working on them but my pinterest feed rn is all just kdj and alnst .. ill re-add these, more content after it (utc)

stealing some lines from cbtt ! ^^ i do have the whole ass story for them but its currently under revision and i hate the prev version so. just gonna find some parts that are readable... tw suciededdfdsgdf n gore an eensy bit

(chapter 1)

“Ah, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Y-You fucker…!”

"Oh, the audacity! I'm the fucker? Mind you, I was having quite a fine time before you barged in and ruined my night, thank you very much."

“Keel over and die quietly. Don’t make my job difficult.”

“Oh, so I’m skilled enough to put up a fight? Aw, don’t flatter me!”

He laughed again, a hollow sound that sliced through the air, and bore a resemblance to the shattering of glass. “Funny. You’re funny. It makes me want to keep you.”

There’s something about his gaze that wracked a shiver through Elias' body, but not in a “damn, that was attractive”, but more so a “haha. im in danger” kind of way. Being on not exactly the right side of the moral compass himelf, it wasn’t as if he found red flags dealbreakers, but…

“...Excuse me?”

A lamb? The audacity to suggest such a foolish notion .....

As if. If anything, he was a serpent. As soon as his fangs had been embedded into your flesh, you would be plagued, living life blundering, falling at every turn while the venom slowly invaded your blood, ate away at your life force, and stilled a beating heart.

Satan had once taken the form of a serpent.

Nikolai had taken the form of a lamb.

“Huek…!”

Snatching Elias' neck and seizing in his vice-like grip, his fingers grazed the base of the neck, nails digging into the skin and leaving their witness in the form of reddish crescents. His eyes scanned over him, beheld him like a trophy, lifting him off the ground, leaving his legs to flail in the empty air.

(chatper 2)

Footsteps.

A good three hundred meters away, growing only nearer. Pulling the blankets upon two vertically positioned pillows, Elias stood behind the doorway, makeshift weapon raised.

Shit, was this operation still retrievable?

If not… suicide would be the only way to go. No compromises — an assassin must not fall alive into enemy hands. Given that he'd already failed once, if he were to once more-

“Sir Assassin, you sleepyhead! It’s time to wake up already~”

The door swung open, and Elias brought the weapon down, feeling the blunt contact of metal hitting bone thrum through his fingers.

Silence, and then-

“Wow, you almost scared me there!”

Nikolai stood in the doorway, eyeing the dead maid before him. Her corpse had fallen onto the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath her still body, trickling from the wound on her head. Skull fractured, no doubt, with bits of reddish matter leaking out.

“That cool little trick of making your heart beat slow down nearly got me, y’know?” Nikolai clapped his hands together, humming. His beauty was deceptive, the sun’s touch lingering on his features and casting a soft golden glow. “Seriously, you know I could’ve gotten hurt, right?”

A failure.

The taste of blood filled Elias' mouth as he bit down, hard. The flesh yielded beneath his teeth as they sunk deep into the muscle, a flood of coppery warmth spilling into the contents of his mouth. The pain hit him not a moment after, a violent agony that Elias embraced. It was the kind of torture that made one feel alive.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Nikolai grabbed his jaw, tightly enough to crush it. Prying open his mouth with an iron grip, he stared down at him, something swirling in his wide eyes. Not worry, or genuine concern, but more so the kind of expression one would wear when faced with something particularly fascinating. Like observing a caged animal, Elias was shot, captured, and put on display.

“So? Why the fuck am I here, dipshit?”

“Ooh, so close.” Nikolai tutted, wagging his finger. “That’s Your Highness to you. Say it.”

“...Your Highness…” At the words, Elias could sense the atmosphere around him brighten. Leading him back to the bed, Nikolai sat him down with a beam.

“Again!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

#.⟢ ݁ ˖⌗ :: [ cbtt ] . elias #.⟢ ݁ ˖⌗ :: [ cbtt ] . nikolai #tell me if u want more!! i don't want the post to be two essays and a half ^^

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lonewolflupe · 3 months ago

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aLoF ch13 | Fives Minutes From Falling Apart

Not only did I postpone writing this chapter for as long as I could, I was dreading the day to post it. Well, looks like today is the day after all, and I'm posting it anyway. I just want to tell you I cried whilst writing it, I cried whilst reading it, and I'm crying whilst posting it. I put all my emotions into this chapter and now I'm finally throwing it into the galaxy, help. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Alright see you next week, I'll be crying in a corner until then.

Summary: during a mission with the Lone Wolf Squad, Lupe's galaxy is shattered Rating: Teen and up (but please check the tags!) Tags: angst (major feelings of loss/despair/guilt), mention of death/description of funeral ceremony, emotional hurt/comfort, drinking Words: 4.485k Characters: Lupe (OC), Lone Wolf Squad, CT-7567 Captain Rex, Anakin Skywalker, Shaak Ti, CT-5597 Jesse, CT-6116 Medic Kix, ARC-5555 Fives (sort of), unidentified clone troopers; mentions of: CT-5385 Tup, CC-1010 Commander Fox aLoF masterlist | AO3 ch12 < | ficlet < | ficlet < | ↓ | > ficlet

19 BBY, Separatist Occupied Outpost

(After Ringo Vinda/During the Biochip Conspiracy, TCW S6E01-04)

“Take this, clankers!”

Fang's voice echoed through the corridor, but was overrun by the noise of blaster bolts, followed by the sound of crashing metal as the remains of the droids hit the floor. Lupe chuckled contently before she addressed them. “Alright boys, time to advance,” she shot at them, placing her hand on Twist's shoulder in the process.

The Lone Wolf Squad was on another mission, being tasked to rid a former Republic outpost of the Separatists that had occupied it. The squad had no intel on any Republic survivors or prisoners, and had to move quickly if they wanted to find out as long as any possible survivors were still alive.

Just as Lupe rounded a corner, she felt a disturbance in the Force. A darkness took a hold on her, a shadow emerging and consuming the light. Something was happening..

“Rex..” “Fives..” “This.. It's bigger than any of us, than anything I could have imagined. I never meant to.. I only wanted to do my duty.” “Brother. Fives. Stay with me, Fives! Fives!” “The mission.. The nightmares.. They're.. Finally.. Over.” “Fives? No, Fives. Come on, Fives, don't go! Stay with me. Stay with me. Fives! Fives! Don't go. No. Oh, no..”

The ominous feeling crushed her like a gluttonbug. A cramped feeling took her in its grasp, as if someone wrapped their fingers around her heart and started squeezing. Squeezing until blood came oozing out, until it stopped beating. The breath was knocked out of her lungs, and she gasped for air. Black flashes clouded her vision. She staggered, reaching for the wall in an attempt to steady herself, but she stumbled and fell to her knees.

“The General! Lupe, sir, are you hit?” Ragnar shouted out, jumping towards her to check on her, but there was no reaction. The other clones positioned themselves around her protectively, scanning the area to see where any shots might have come from, but there was nothing to find.

Ragnar kneeled in front of Lupe, carefully taking her face in his hands. As he guided her gaze towards him, her eyes found his visor. He was shocked when he saw them dark and empty; as if she wasn't there. “Lupe, talk to me,” he urged her somewhat demandingly, but with a caring tone to his voice. She parted her lips and started mouthing a word, a name, but there was no sound. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Please, come back to me- to us,” Ragnar begged her in a whisper, before putting his helmet against her forehead. Moments after, he could feel her hands on top of his, as he still held her face between them. He pulled away, to look her in the eyes again. “Ragnar, something.. Something has happened. I-I-I felt it. It hurts.. It hurts so much..,” she stammered, searching for an explanation, a way to describe it to him.

“We'll find out. We're gonna rush those Separatists and we'll head back to Coruscant as soon as possible,” he tried to ease her, giving her a comforting nod, before helping her to her feet again. But she already knew something bad had happened, and heading back towards Coruscant would only make it more real, worsening her heart-wrenching pain.

---

Coruscant | GAR Barracks' Hangar

Lupe had no recollection of the remainder of their mission. The boys had dragged her along, perfectly able to carry on the mission after all the experience they had gained throughout the war. They hadn't encountered any survivors, but they had made sure the threat was dealt with - and any sensitive data available couldn’t fall into Separatist hands anymore.

Back on Coruscant, Claw was piloting the shuttle into the barracks’ hangar, and with every second, the invisible grasp around her heart and throat tightened. When Claw started the landing procedure, Lupe's gaze fell on Captain Rex in the hangar. All hope was gone.

His body language told her enough. Every bit of hope and confidence she still had, left her in a heartbeat. She didn't wait for the shuttle to hit the floor before pushing the entry button and jumping from the boarding walk. With effort to not collapse towards the ground again, she ran over to Rex. Her eyebrows were wrinkled in pain and despair, her eyes already watery from tears.

When she reached him, Rex averted his gaze; he didn't have the strength left to look her in the eyes. “Rex, where is he? Where's Fives?” she managed, her voice coarse as the lump in her throat made it nearly impossible to mutter any words. Rex closed his eyes for a brief moment. “They laid him in the medbay,” he whispered, barely loud enough to become audible.

She jolted past him, her eyes set on the way towards the medbay only; everything else just became a blur.

---

Coruscant | GAR Barracks' Medbay

She couldn't breathe. Her head was spinning. Her throat was sore. When the door opened, she could see Anakin and Master Shaak Ti standing beside the bed. A shroud covered the body that laid on top of it.

Something inside her just snapped. She didn't care about the Jedi Code anymore, about being secretive about her love for the clones, for this clone in particular. They could kick her from the Order if they wanted to, she couldn't care any less at this moment. Her galaxy was just taken from her, shattered in the relentless war, and she had no single shred of care to give anymore.

She staggered forward, ignoring both Jedi in the room, and when she made it to the bed, she reached for the shroud. Her brows were twitching and her hands shaking when she slowly lifted it, finally revealing Fives’ lifeless body. She knew; she had known from the moment she felt the disturbance. But now that she was standing at his side, her gaze on his body, she realised this was really happening. It wasn't some nightmare or vision anymore.

“No no no, Fives, please- Please,” she started, putting her trembling hands on his shoulders, gently shaking them in an effort to wake him up, becoming more forceful when he didn't. Anakin walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Lupe, he's- He's gone,” he whispered softly before swallowing. When it dawned on her, she let out a cry; a heart-wrenching cry, chilling to the bone, that even brought tears to Shaak Ti’s eyes.

Lupe sank onto her knees, grasping for Fives’ hand. She squeezed it tightly as she sat crying, sobbing uncontrollably as this loss dawned on her. There was no going back now, no caring and comforting moments, the teasing and the shenanigans. The intimacy and the love he had given her. Her galaxy was taken from her, and her spark died down.

In silence, Anakin gestured to Shaak Ti, and they left the room without uttering another word, granting Lupe some privacy. She lost her sense of time, but there came no end to her tears. They were the only tangible thing left of their bond.

---

A shiver ran down her spine when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She had no idea how long she had been sitting here, and she didn't even feel a presence entering the room. With effort, she managed to look up. Rex was standing at her side, his face filled with pain as he looked down at Fives’ body. He sank to his knees beside her, slightly hanging his head. “I-I'm sorry Lupe, sir, I tried to.. I..,” he started stammering, but he couldn't find the words.

Normally, she would try to comfort him, to ease his mind, because there was no way in the galaxy Rex could have been responsible for Fives’ death. But she didn't this time; she didn't have the will anymore. She looked at him with a hollow expression, as the tears finally stopped flowing. He averted his gaze again; looking at her was too painful.

He wanted to tell her what happened, what had occurred in those last few minutes before disaster struck. But he didn't have the courage; not now, at least. He had to figure it out for himself first, putting everything in place. He would share his findings with her later; there would be more than enough time.

Fortunately for Rex, Lupe was too empty to ask any questions at this moment. Her gaze slid from him towards Fives on top of the bed. His shaven head.. “I've seen this,” she muttered, a chilling coldness in her voice; she sounded detached. Rex raised a brow and looked at her confused. “This happened before. In my dreams. I- I told him about it,” she continued, not averting her gaze from Fives.

Another moment of silence, before she broke again. “I could have prevented this,” she whispered at last, before she collapsed her head into her hands, tears rolling down her cheeks again. Rex swallowed, and pulled her sobbing body into an embrace. He wanted to comfort her, letting her know it wasn't her fault, but words eluded him. So he just pulled her tight, letting her know she wasn't alone, that she was allowed to mourn. She cried what remained of her heart out on his shoulder.

---

Coruscant | GAR Barracks' Hangar

It took a few rotations before Fives’ body was released. The Supreme Chancellor’s personal medical personnel - she was so confused why this had been necessary - had conducted research on him, to figure out what had happened to him - and to Tup, apparently. Poor Tup, as if the death of one brother hadn't been enough for the 501st. Lupe didn't have the strength to inquire about their findings, as she tried to keep away the thoughts of them cutting open and prying inside Fives’ body.

It was Jesse who found her at her usual spot at the edge of the hangar. It was nighttime already, but the many lights of Coruscant prevented total darkness. Instead of inviting her to join them directly, he sat down beside her, where she was leaning her back against an abandoned crate. She was so lost in thoughts that she didn't look up, gazing unfocused into the distance.

Jesse looked at her sideways, not sure what to say. They were all devastated by their most recent losses, but Lupe seemed to take it the worst. “How, er- How are you holding up?” he asked eventually, scolding himself immediately for his stupid question. Lupe blinked, his words pulling her from her thoughts, back into reality. She looked at him, the whites of her eyes red from the crying, her gaze empty, her skin even paler than usual.

He swallowed. “Yeah, no need to answer that,” he added softly, before sliding his gaze to the view in front of him. “We just got his body back. We're preparing him now, and, er- we would like you to attend the ceremony. If that's alright with you, of course.”

Lupe swallowed, leaning forward as Jesse's words dawned on her. She had never attended such a ceremony; it was highly unusual for the troopers to invite outsiders, even as some of them had grown a strong bond with the clones. She wanted to feel honoured, but she couldn't feel anything other than loss, emptiness and guilt. So much guilt.

“Thank you,” she managed at last, although faint, ”I would like that.” She closed her eyes as she tried to picture Fives during the last time they had been together, but all she got was images of his lifeless body in the medbay, his shaven head. She shook her head, eyes opening wide. “Cremation, right?” she whispered, trying to avert her thoughts from the images that flashed in front of her.

Jesse nodded slowly. “Yeah, there's not enough space on Coruscant to bury all our fallen brothers,” he said slowly. Lupe's eyebrows twitched, the heart-wrenching remark weighing heavily on her already sore heart. She looked at him, took his hand and squeezed it in an attempt of comfort.

“I'm sorry. For all the horrors we Jedi put you through,” she managed despite the lump in her throat. Jesse looked up at her, a bit startled by her sudden touch, but he appreciated the gesture. “Heh, not all Jedi are that bad. You, sir, have been a highlight of our days. I can totally see why Fives is- was attracted to you. General, sir,” he replied, averting his gaze from hers as a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. For the first time in rotations, Lupe managed a smile on her face. “Thank you, Jesse.”

Lupe hadn't noticed earlier, but all the noise and activities in the hangar had died down. No more arriving or departing ships, no sounds of troopers running about. Jesse got up to his feet and offered her his hand, a caring smile on his face. “I think they're ready,” he said softly, before she took his hand to lift herself to her feet.

When she looked into the hangar, her breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. The hangar was filled to the brim with clone troopers, present to pay their last respects towards Fives. She noticed a lot of the 501st’s blue, but she could distinguish quite a few other colours. Her gaze slid over the crowd towards the edge of the hangar, where she noticed a pyrohover. On top lay his body. Fives.

Jesse carefully nudged her towards the scene. Reluctant at the first few steps, as she felt she was intruding on a private gathering, she managed to walk over. Jesse walked with her until she positioned herself at Rex’s side, before finding his own place with Torrent Company behind them. Rex shot her a comforting smile. “Glad you could make it, sir,” he whispered. Lupe's brows twitched, as she tried holding back the tears.

After Rex gave her a moment to regain herself, he leaned towards her. “Are you ready, sir?” he asked in a soft, low voice. Lupe took a deep breath with a shaky inhale, before replying with a tremble in her voice: “As ready as I'll ever be.”

Rex nodded and guided her towards the pyrohover. From his neck down, Fives was covered in a shroud. A deep sigh when she realised this was the last time she would lay eyes on him. She gently touched the ‘5’ tattoo on his temple, before leaning forward to press one last kiss on his motionless forehead. A tear rolled down her cheek and fell upon his cold skin.

“Thank you, my cyare*, for letting me be your shereshoy*,” she whispered, soft enough so no one could hear her intimate words; they were meant for Fives, and Fives alone. She pressed her forehead against his, taking a deep breath as she touched him for the very last time. Rex stood a few steps away, granting them this last time of privacy together.

*cyare = beloved, loved

*shereshoy = lust for life and much more - uniquely Mandalorian word, meaning the enjoyment of each day and the determination to seek and grab every possible experience, as well as surviving to see the next day - hanging onto life and relishing it

After delaying the moment for as long as possible, Lupe finally pulled away from Fives. Her eyes started watering instantly, as the moment felt so final. She took another deep breath, before turning towards Rex, as she didn't know how the ceremony would continue. He took it as an invitation to step forward again, and when he reached her, he pointed out which button to push.

Lupe nodded and turned towards the pyrohover’s control panel. She swallowed, her breathing uneven as she reached for the button. She pressed it, resulting in a clicking sound from the igniter, before hissing blue flames emerged from the pyrohover. She took a startled step back when the flames started to lick Fives’ body, started to consume what was left of him. This empty hull that used to contain her galaxy.

When Rex noticed Lupe slightly leaning forward, nearing the flames, he gently nudged her backwards. She snapped out of it, and with a muddled look on her face, she let Rex guide her to their former position. As she tried regaining herself at his side, her gaze slid back towards Fives, where it lingered for the remainder of the ceremony.

Rex cleared his throat and straightened himself, a serious look in his eyes as he stood at attention to address the present crowd. “Ner vode*,” he called out as loudly as possible, so his voice would carry far throughout the silent hangar. He continued: “We are gathered here to remember our fallen brother, Fives. Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum*.” After Rex finished the sentence, hundreds of voices of clones in the hangar chanted Fives’ name, a way to remember him. Tears flowed from Lupe's eyes as a shiver ran down her spine.

*Ner vode = my brothers/sisters/friends

*Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum = I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la*,” Rex concluded his speech after the chanting, letting out a heavy sigh. He had recited these words so many times before, but it never got easier. Especially not this time. He relaxed his shoulders and watched over Lupe as she stood frozen at his side.

*Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la = Not gone, merely marching far away

At last, Rex gestured towards Jesse to move forward again. Lupe didn't notice their interaction, Jesse handing over something to Rex, as her gaze was still fixated on the flames in front of her. It was only when Rex returned to her, stepping closer and clearing his throat, she snapped out of her thoughts. “Sir, we thought- We thought you wanted to have these,” he whispered.

Confused, Lupe raised a brow. When she let her gaze slide down, seeing what Rex was carrying, she realised what he was offering her: the pauldrons of Fives’ ARC attire. She put her hand over her mouth, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to pull herself together. She took a deep breath before accepting them. “Rex, I- I-.. Thank you,” she stammered, as she pulled the pauldrons tenderly against her chest.

---

Most troopers in the hangar had scattered by now, going back to their nightly routines. Rex and the remaining core of Torrent Company lingered at the scene of the ceremony, where Lupe remained unmoved. Her mind was blank; she had no clue how to continue from here.

Rex and Jesse shared a look. Normally after the funeral ceremony of a close brother, they would remember and celebrate him at 79’s. But it didn't feel right, leaving Lupe out here, on her own with Fives’ remains smouldering on top of the pyrohover. Jesse shrugged, but Rex gave him a nod, both as approval and as encouragement.

At last, Jesse cleared his throat as he strolled towards Lupe. “General, sir, we, er- We always go pay 79’s a visit, after.. After the loss of a close brother. It's called a aay’han*, you see,” Jesse struggled through his words. Kix shot Jesse a frustrated look from behind Lupe, as Jesse was clearly oversharing and needed to get to the point.

*aay’han = bittersweet moment of mourning and joy; "remembering and celebration” (after the death of a family member)

“So, we thought, since you attended one of our ceremonies now, maybe you, er- You would like to accompany us?” he continued, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Kix emerged from behind Lupe, feeling the need to interfere. “Don’t feel obliged, sir. And if you need some more time here, we understand completely.” He gave her a quick, practical nod.

Her gaze slid from Jesse to Kix, a glassy look in her eyes. She finally turned towards Rex, wetting her lips before she spoke. “What.. What will happen to his remains?” she asked, her voice small and distant. Rex walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder before answering. “When the ashes have cooled down, they will be strewn into the wind. He'll still be here in the morning, don’t you worry,” he said to her slowly, a small smile on his face to comfort her.

She nodded to him, before turning towards Jesse and Kix again. “Then I'd like to come with you,” she said with a faint nod.

---

Coruscant | 79’s

Despite the lively colours of the bar's presentation, 79’s felt bleak without Fives. They sat at one of the booths, silently awaiting the first round of drinks they had ordered. It was becoming painfully clear to the clones how Torrent’s core kept dwindling, whilst Lupe sat fretting about the fact that everyone and everything around them kept continuing their businesses as if nothing had happened.

When the server droid finally served their drinks, they divided the glasses between themselves. “To Fives,” Rex started, raising his glass. The others joined him with their drinks. “For all the trouble he put us in,” Jesse continued, as Kix added: “And for getting us out again - most of the time.” They clinked their glasses and took a sip of their beer. Before putting the glass to her mouth, Lupe whispered: “Our dedication and our doom.”

She gulped down the alcohol at a dangerous speed, and Kix looked at her with concern. She was already calling the server droid over for another round, whilst the boys were still finishing their first drinks. Kix tried to catch Rex’s gaze, but the Captain didn't seem to pay any attention to his surroundings, as he was twirling around the beverage in his glass.

The rounds kept coming, and Lupe seemed to down every drink faster than the previous one. Where they would normally loosen up and continue their night with cheerful bantering as they remembered and celebrated their fallen brothers, this time, the mood stayed gloomy and oppressed. They were painfully aware of the fact the numbers of their close core were decreasing rapidly, the empty seats around them being a cruel reminder.

After a few more rounds, Lupe suddenly straightened herself in her seat. She pushed her half finished drink aside, resulting in Kix raising a brow. “Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me,” she started, her voice surprisingly elated, “I'm in need of a new tattoo.” She got out of the booth a bit clumsily, and as their gazes slid towards the back of 79’s, they noticed the tattooist was in that night.

With some effort, she walked away from them, setting her course towards the tattooist. “You go, girl- General, sir!” Jesse shouted after she got up, swinging his glass around and spilling some of his drink in the process. Rex chuckled at the sight. But the mood shifted back quickly; now that Lupe was out of hearing range, there were a few unspoken matters to be discussed.

Kix swallowed before looking back at Rex. “Did you- Did you tell her about anything?” he asked in a whisper, only just loud enough to get over the surrounding noises. His last interaction with Fives was still fresh on his mind; his cry for help, his distrust, his fear. Kix swallowed again; had there been a way he could have done more for Fives, preventing anything that had happened next?

Rex slowly shook his head. “Haven't had the courage yet. Besides, I need to figure things out for myself first, process everything. I'm not even sure if I know what happened.” He finished the remainder of his drink in one big gulp. “I'll tell her when I put everything into place. Maybe she'll know what to do with it.”

Kix nodded in understanding, before clearing his throat. “Was, er- was Fox at the ceremony?” he asked cautiously, knowing it was a bit of a sensitive subject. Jesse clenched his fist, but Rex sighed and let his shoulders hang. “Haven't seen him, but again, that hangar was packed,” he replied with a wry smile on his face. Jesse huffed, showing his aversion. “I'm glad he didn't show his face. I don't think I could have restrained myself from hitting it,” he shot through gritted teeth.

Rex tried to ease him by putting his hand on Jesse's tensed arm. “Easy, Jesse. I understand that you feel this way towards him, but Fox did everything he should have done back in that.. dreadful situation. Besides, if I know Fox, he's taking this the hardest on himself.”

A moment of silence, before Kix sighed and opened his mouth. “I'm worrying about her. I know it's still early and fresh, but she's- she's not coping well.” Rex shot a glance towards the back of 79’s, where the tattooist was located. “I'll talk to General Skywalker and her Lone Wolves. I think we should all keep an extra eye out for her,” he said softly, his eyes on Lupe in the tattooist’s chair as his thoughts started to wander.

Kix nodded in agreement, but something was fretting him. “Good idea, sir, but.. There's not really a lot of us left. To check on her, y’know,” he said at last, his eyes sliding over the empty seats around their booth. Rex took in the words, but didn't reply; his thoughts were on all the brothers he had lost, the ones he couldn't save. “Yeah, who will be next..,” Jesse said with a sigh, before finishing his drink.

…

Epilogue

Lupe had walked over to the tattooist, located at the back of 79’s that evening. Her stride was determined, although a bit unsteady due to the alcohol in her system. She had a clear picture of what she wanted. When she reached the tattooist, she described her request, but it wasn't anything complex. To most it was just a number, but to her, it was so much more. A reminder of her galaxy, her shereshoy; her lust for life, the enjoyment of her day, the determination of surviving to see the next one.

Fives was gone, but he would always be a part of her. She knew things would get harder from now on; she had to pull herself together now, since he wasn't there anymore to pick her up when she was down.

The ‘5’ the tattooist was currently inking on her upper right arm would be a reminder of him, that she was still carrying him around with her. A reminder that he was always close, a symbol of comfort when she ever needed it.

Besides, she would find solace in the clones she had befriended; his brothers. Even though she didn't know how long the war would last, she knew they would be around, and there would always be clones to fall back on. There wasn't a force in the galaxy that could change that bond.

She found comfort in that thought.

Well, at least I can add a tattoo to Lupe's character sheet *continues sobbing*

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