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crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf · 3 months ago

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Disgrace Chapter 6 : Crosshair x F!OC

Where is the man Tah'nyem had come to know? Reserved, cautious, definitely not one to take risks... well there was that one time... and then... well... Regardless. Despite the ensuing chaos, she's told him to do as he likes and he has every intention of showing her exactly how he likes it.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Canon type Violence (Blaster fire, blood, strikes) stampede, attempted SA, a variety of kisses, light bondage, oral (m receiving), deep throat, inappropriate use of tools, car sex(?) overstimulation, forced orgasm, orgasm countdown, piv (unprotected) w/cπ, breeding press.

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Authors note: Off to the races! and other such corny lines. I got this done in time for Kinktober AND my deadline! Woo!

Word Count: 10,500

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua. She's a damsel, she's in distress- she can handle it.

<-Previous Chapter - Read On Ao3 {START HERE}

Music Inspo- Love You Madly, CAKE

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Chapter 6 -Madly

We debated staying in the box but the reality of being cornered with a several story dive onto an active raceway as the sole escape was only an attractive idea to one of us. There was time before Bly would be able to traverse the roundabout path from the opposite side of the track, though not a lot. I brought up the map of the casino compound while we figured out our next move.

“Bly'd have goons looking for me anyways once he figured I was here, but after that little display, you he might actually want dead… fun part, killing him in turn would be a major political incident,”

“So we find somewhere to hide for the next,”

He tapped the pad to check the time again.

“Two hours,”

Was that really all?

“Maybe we could catch a holofilm… as long as no one sees us slip in.”

I pointed to the holoplex in the west wing, not too far from the stadium.

“Let's stay in the arena, go down to the general seating and keep moving,”

“The day's races will be wrapped in an hour, where do we have to be to meet our connection?”

“The track loading bays,”

“It'll take a while for the crowd to filter out… sounds like a plan,”

I closed the map and made for the door, but hands pulled me back from the panel, turning me into another kiss, slow, firm, a delay in pulling away.

“I'm glad he saw,”

“Mm, Let's see how long that sentiment sticks,”

But I smiled as I turned. I've never seen someone turn the shade Bly had. The memory was almost worth whatever issues it might cause.

~~~

We settled on the top panel of complimentary seating five floors down from the balcony. The rows were crowded as we navigated the smaller stairs between the benches.

I rolled my eyes at Cross's suggestion to share a seat and picked out a spot middle left where we could both fit. Side by side. I was curious about this sudden cavalier attitude and lack of caution.

Did someone spike the drink I gave him?

I pulled my hood lower as the familiar buzz of a droid flew overhead, cursing Jar'ath's name again.

The man next to me was relaxed, watching a brutal collision on the holoscreens, the resulting explosion blooming hot in the distance to thunderous applause. The pods pit crews were running to retrieve the cockpits.

“Did they survive that?”

He was watching the crews pry open the ejected compartments.

“Likely… not without injury, but people don't die in these races like they used to. Ejectors and inertia dampeners became regulation,”

Plus other safety features that made getting a pod up to code very expensive. It was no wonder Riot Racing was finding an audience, but that was the natural progression of any sport.

“If you want to see the hardcore stuff you’ll have to tune into the Safa Toma races starting off the underground in a few months,”

He didn't answer and I turned to find his attention elsewhere entirely.

“What's up?”

“Security, on the steps, three paces back,”

I glanced without turning, catching a tall shadow looming over the stairs.

“What about him?”

“Suits nicer than the staff downstairs, I think he's one of Bly’s boys,”

“That didn't take long,”

There wasn't a way to get up and slip out without drawing attention.

“Maybe he'll just, gloss over us and leave,”

“Maybe,”

But he had slid his left hand between my legs to squeeze my thigh, making me jerk on the bench.

“Hey! The varp are you doing? Are you looking for a fight?”

“Maybe.”

This time it was purred into my ear as I was lifted to stand and ushered back into the aisle. The figure had already started moving towards us. We could get to the dark alcove marking the exit but we've been made. There could already be back up on the way.

Swifty up the steps and into the shadows. The through traffic was light now that the race had begun and once we were around the corner we were relatively alone.

Crosshair pulled us to a stop and pushed me against the wall behind him, waiting.

The security guard rounded the corner at a casual pace… Cross pressed his side arm into the man’s ribs as he came into view, squeezing the trigger before he was even noticed. The bodyguard was down, and we stepped over him to hurry in the other direction.

Down two flights of stairs into a busier hall and back out into the rows of spectators. There was only standing room here, and we pushed ahead to be closer to the track.

As we hit the barrier, the pods zoomed by with a high, metallic whine and a gust that made my hair fly into my eyes. I turned away to try and straighten it, catching Crosshair craning his neck to look at the balconies above.

“Looking for something?”

“I was hoping for a line of sight where we were, but the boxes are more steeply oriented than I thought,”

“Trying to see if more showed up?”

“If they did and I could see we could take care of this quickly,”

“Not sure that much blaster fire would go unnoticed…”

One or two shots maybe… guess you could do that though couldn't you?

I scanned the crowd around us but couldn't see any more fancy suits so I let myself relax a little, aiming my attention back to the other side of the track.

The stands across the way were elevated over an open middle section allowing a view of the horizon. Trailing lights against the dark backdrop gave away the pods darting through wilder bends away from the cheering onlookers.

Below the panoramic view, a wide area of standing room, also flooded with people.

Half of Nohct City must be here tonight…

A glint caught my eye in the crowd. There were glitters and flashes everywhere, but this one sent a chill through me, like I had just met eyes with someone I couldn't actually see.

“Cross… somethings down there…”

He caught the timid tone and pulled me against him, following my gaze to the lower levels, scanning quickly.

“Shyte,”

His hand went to the back of my neck, pushing my head down, kneeling us below the barrier. I felt dust and small debris rain down on me.

“What the kriff?”

“That's not one of Bly’s security… looks like we have two problems,”

Did someone just shoot at me?!

The tourists around us were mumbling excitedly, thinking the sharp crack to the divider wall was somehow part of the show. We were stuck in a sea of people, unable to tell where the pursuers were behind us and a new player training their sights on our current position. Stuck.

“We have to try to move, stay as low as possible, use the crowd to hide yourself,”

“What if they get caught in the crossfire?”

“That's not my problem,”

He shifted me to move, tucking me to the inside of the aisle as we squeezed behind a group of tourists leaning dangerously far over the rim.

We shuffled carefully, moving back up the way we came in a zigzag, shifting with the moving crowd to keep bodies between us and the open side of the stadium.

I could still see the rim of the large, lower viewing area, which erupted in raised hands as the pods passed through the channel of the arena once more.

It wasn't heard, but the first sign was a smell of burnt flesh. A man that had been standing in front of me as I moved up another few steps crumpled, crying out at the blaster wound suddenly smoking through his shoulder.

There was a ripple of silence as heads turned to the fallen man.

It started slower than you would expect. The audience members closest to the scene were the first to turn, wedging themselves hard between Crosshair and I as they rushed the stairs. Others forwent the stair aisles and simply started to hop up and over the stadium benches.

I whipped my arm out to snag Cross’s outreached one as I was dragged by the sudden surge of people that began to flow between us. His hold on my wrist was strong but I was still being jostled and at this rate, might fall and halve my chances of getting out of here.

“Wait for me!”

He had to shout to be heard over the din, and had more to say, but time had run out. I nodded and we let go, allowing me to turn into the current with better control.

I tried not to worry at the new blaster fire opening up behind me, focusing more on keeping my footing, half carried by the throngs of panicked tourists.

The pack was moving illogically, continuing upwards and past the turn offs that would lead back to the inner corridors. I fought the current, getting tangled and shoved as I tried to angle myself into a path out of the stadium.

Screams were confused with cheering as a pod lost control and slammed into the barrier wall just under the commotion, causing a plume of flames to cast the sickening scene into a flickering show of obscene shadow puppets. Our section was in complete disarray and the occupants of the private boxes suspended above leaned over to better observe the spectacle.

I couldn't see Crosshair. Couldn't even tell exactly where the blaster fire was coming from, if it was him or not, and then visual was cut completely as the throng pushed me into the exit tunnel and out into the wide hall overlooking the Casino.

The crowd broke and scattered allowing room to breathe finally. I backtracked to a wall near the exit, security was rushing to the area and I was suddenly hoping Cross hadn't actually started to return fire.

A few of the suits began to coralle guests into composure while another set slipped easily through the stampede and into the stadium.

“Miss, if you would come with us,”

A pair had sidled up to me while I was scanning faces for the token tattoo.

“I'm fine, really, just separated from my escort,”

I tried brushing them off, not turning to address them. One stepped in too close for comfort causing me to tense. The telltale press of a blaster in my side warned me too late of my mistake. These weren't casino security.

I jerked my arm away from the fingers attempting to close around it.

“Go ahead and shoot me,”

I snarled, but the big men only chuckled as they snatched at me, getting a hold of an arm and my neck. They shifted my struggling form between them, making a more discreet profile as they carted me off. Not that anyone in the confusion was paying any mind.

“Let go!”

My screeching barely broke the din, left helpless and fluttering like a bird in the stoney hands holding me firm.

A well dressed pair of Muun chuckled as they caught my struggle. They probably thought I was a drunk being detained, observing with amusement as I was dragged into a roped off bar.

The noise of the casino hall grew muffled as I was pushed past tables stacked with chairs, up a stylish set of metal stairs to a raised platform overlooking the silent dance floor.

The lights were off, but the whole club flickered in a harsh blue cast from floor to ceiling tanks lining the walls. Colorful fish the same size as myself swam lazily behind the glass casting eerie shadows in the already inconsistent glow.

I was dumped on the floor by a darkened booth in the corner, table pulled away, leaving it open to the wide, suspended floor. A flashy shirt sat silhouetted by one of the large tanks, legs crossed, and a look of controlled fury across familiar, handsome features.

“Lady Ra,”

“Duhanis…”

He stiffened at my omission of the adopted honorifics,

“That was… humiliating… Are you proud of yourself? Did you make your point?”

“This might come as a shock, Bly’ju, but not everything’s about you,”

“Hmm, so you didn't put your little friend up to that? That vulgar display, you in the arms of that…”

His words cut off as anger made his jaw clench. He stood up, prowling towards me with a dangerous air.

“Your behavior is unacceptable as one of my intendeds. What’s next little Can’gulia? Spreading your thighs for Clones and Katjarls ?”

I stiffened, Crosshair passed as natborn to the unskilled observer so of course Bly'ju missed it. A wicked smirk broke through my practiced gray expression.

“Already there Bly’ju… or did you not notice my escort is cloned? Should I describe what those Kaminoan enhancements can do?”

Even if they do marry me to you, you won't own me Bly. I'll kriff who I want.

His face darkened in a momentary rage that he repressed with a determined clench of his jaw.

“…I've been asking politely, Tah’nyem, but what's the point when you'll just give yourself away to anyone?”

I didn't ever like his tone, but he was rubbing my nerves raw today. I sneered, making my contempt more than known,

“Oh no, Not anyone… just anyone but you,”

I spat in his face.

The backhand was expected, an angry strike was a telegraphed one, and I rolled with it, minimizing the sting. I wouldn't be able to take many of those though, and flexed my jaw to work the burning out faster. This bantha brain wasn't gonna get the satisfaction of seeing me scared. I forced a dry laugh,

“I see we've improved that temper,”

He looked down at me coldly, loosening the buttons at his wrists.

“You should be grateful li’ha, a half-blooded off worlder like you still holds my attention, your Vah'hadarr, I'm sorry, the governor, will give in eventually, but perhaps it's time I forced his hand…Hold her down.”

I tried to dive away, scrabbling under a table but hands were already closing on my ankles, dragging me out and back to the open floor. I shrieked in fury as I was pinned, kicking out frantically to make a connection with any part of my assailants. A few soft grunts was all I managed to elicit as my arms were easily restrained.

Bly stood over me, an ugly expression painted over him as he made for my hips. I aimed a kick at his knee caps which was caught with a cold laugh.

“This was always inevitable li’ha, I'm just done being nice, this was the last kriffing provocation,”

I yanked my foot in an attempt to break his hold, instead, pulling my leg free of the loose, old boot. Bly stumbled slightly as the tension released, letting his guard down. My heel connected with his groin next and this time I was rewarded with a bellowing howl of pain.

“Idiots, get her legs,”

He was wheezing, his tall form hunched and… wide?

His shadowy silhouette seemed to double in size… It took me a moment to register through the horrid adrenaline that a figure had materialized behind Bly, erupting from his shadow,

Crack

Bly's head snapped to the side as a fist hooked into his jaw. Before he could react, Crosshair aimed another swing to land with a wet crunch into his nose, sending him backwards to sprawl on the club carpet. Blaster fire, and the security holding me down fell limp.

I struggled up, angrily stumbling to the disheveled suit gurgling on the floor and ground my heel against the man's crotch, crushing the family jewels and ripping an undignified squeal from the battered Bly.

“You sick Kark!”

Swinging my leg back in a swift kick for good measure, I jumped when gentle hands slid about my upper arms, pulling me back.

“You okay?”

No.

“...I'm fine, we should go.”

Forcing the adrenaline making me shake away, I picked up my boot and made towards the stairs.

“You want to give him another kick?”

I looked back at Cross who gestured invitingly to the whimpering form of Bly on the ground.

…

“Yeah…”

I slowly put the old boot back on and circled the large, quivering shyte stain of a man, surveying the available surfaces before giving him a hard, firm kick right to the ass. I wanted to go for the gut but the coward had curled up in fetal position. Blood was pouring from his nose which was crooked from the hard strike Cross had delivered. It was the best he had ever looked.

“Better?”

“A little,”

He pulled me to him, cradling me as I stared down at the bloody mess. Stroking my hair and arms, but I was antsy to get out of here.

“We should go,”

“Soon,”

His answer had an odd tone to it. I stepped out from his hold but was spun back, lifted to be held against his armored chest plate.

“Kiss me,”

“Now?”

He just squeezed me, eyes filled with a playful peevishness.

This man’s insane, isn't he?

I pressed my lips to his, evoking a happy little groan deep in his throat as I played along. I thought I might be going a bit insane too, something new alighting within me at his possessive display.

A gurgling, frustrated growl came from the man on the floor as he struggled to find his feet. Cross answered by squeezing my ass in an exaggerated way before setting me down again.

Bly had finally managed to stand but before he had a chance to move or speak a blaster pulse hit him square between the eyes.

“Crosshair!”

“Relax, he's stunned,”

“Oh…”

I had forgotten military weapons could do that and turned to the security out on the floor. They didn't seem to be breathing.

“Those ones are dead,”

“Ah… good…”

He chuckled, leaning to brush his lips lightly across mine. It was quiet now, and as much as I wanted to revel in the daring rescue I could once again hear the distant voices of the crowded walkways.

“What happened out there?”

He sighed, standing straight again and turning to look off where my attention had been pulled.

“Management seems to be working wonders in crowd control. No ones too concerned about blasters going off during the races… I didn't get the gunman though,”

“You missed?”

“No, just… once one person started shooting others joined in, I couldn't get a fix on the original, so they're still out there,”

“Sounds like a podrace… how much time do we have,”

“45 minutes,”

It would take some time to get to the loading area of the track from here.

“We should grab lunch,”

I picked up my bag from where it had been cast aside unnoticed and pulled up the holomap. I was half joking but my stomach perked up at the thought of food.

“You think there's time,”

He moved closer to me again, fingers playing lightly over my shoulder, the touch was casual, but was becoming constant. Perhaps blanket permission was a bit hasty, I didn't account on him being so… handsy.

“No, but I'm hungry, One of these quick stands should do, The staginging area is just past this pavilion, We’ll snag something we can walk with,”

He nodded, and grabbed a napkin off the bar, cleaning the blood off of his knuckles before taking the bag off my shoulder. I put my hood up and followed his lead, leaving the mess where it was.

~~~

We only got lost once on our way to the shopping pavilion that stretched in all directions once you decended into the underground cavern of the spiralling complex.

As soon as we entered the wide entrance plaza, a family of Toydarian tourists tried to stop us for pictures. They were under the mistaken impression we were a celebrity couple, apparently recognizing us from the holoscreen display. It took a moment to untangle ourselves, letting them snap a few quick shots to keep from making a scene, before being allowed into the marketplace proper.

An internal fountain sat at the center of the forked halls, the bubbling liquid changing hues from a brilliant sea green to turquoise and back. Projections of little figures made of light danced across the surface, performing complicated acrobatics and romantic plays. Younglings delightedly tried to grab at the shimmering sprites as they splashed in the vibrant pool vaguely unattended by the tired and distracted adults around them.

Sound echoed off the hollow stone roof filled with whispy artificial clouds painting a false pastel sky shimmering against the ceiling.

I checked a posted stand marking our location and gestured for Cross to follow me to the left passage. As I turned away I felt him take my hand, falling in stride next to me.

“What are you doing?”

“If they think we're a couple wouldn't it be strange to just trail around after you?”

“That was one group of tourists…”

“Was it now?”

Something in his tone had me scanning the crowd.

Ah, varp…

The occasional group was casting glances at us, whispering behind their hands excitedly. More than a few.

“Well that's definitely not good,”

He chuckled, leaning in to whisper,

“Just play the part.”

“We should duck into the service tunnels, there's still a shooter out here somewhere,”

“Easier if they come to me,”

“Careful now, almost sounds like you're using me as bait,”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and ushered me along the hall past storefronts with dazling displays of poor taste and kitch.

“Best bait around, besides, you're hungry, right?”

Kark it. I can chew the scenery.

I leaned into him, pressing against his side suggestively.

“Something sweet, okay?”

I set my stride to something more confident suiting a debutante flaunting her affair. Heads definitely turned to watch us make our way, more than just the giddy whispers from before. It was wonderous what a change of posture could do when it came to commanding attention.

You better know what you're doing, Cross…

My pace faltered as we passed in front of a clothing store, high fashion displayed in minimal stands. I glanced down at my tailored clothes, or rather, my father's tailored clothes.

“I need to make a stop…”

~~~

We reached the alcoved pavilion in swaggerish stride, a small bag with clothes that would actually fit me hanging off my arm. Semi permanent food stalls lined the walls and a few snack carts were littered throughout the large, circular room between hundreds of scattered cafe tables. The noise was almost unbearable, voices bouncing off the domed ceiling, the clatter of cutlery, and the occasional babbling infant.

Cross was already dragging me to a cart near a service entrance. It was a practical choice, the loading dock was a short ways through those doors.

I looked over the pastries on display, flakey rolled crust with caramelized spices sprinkling the tops.

“Sweet enough?”

“Mhmm, it looks good,”

We stepped into the short line, Cross keeping me close with a hand at my back. He was standing casually but I could see his eyes systematically checking our surroundings. We were vulnerable while standing still and I silently urged the couple ahead of us to hurry the kark up.

I took the time to really look at the room. Pillars divided the wall, disguising projection systems that were casting the illusion of being outside. It looked like the holo images were of Naboo with it's waterfalls and old, elegant architecture. As I watched the images faded, replaced with new scenery; as if we were overlooking Coruscant under the sparkling lights of night.

I looked over the planet I had lived half my life. The projections had a convincing amount of depth to them and I wondered if the feeds were live. This particular section of skyline looked familiar…

If that gold glow over there is the memorial…

I turned slowly, scanning the horizon till I saw the obvious red streak staining the sky in the distance and tapped my companion’s side.

“Cross, you see that over there?”

It took him a second to refocus and realize what he was looking at.

“Is this supposed to be Coruscant?”

“It is, but you see that tall tower off in the distance… the red one?”

“Yes,”

“That's The Red Spire, the club at the top is called The Red Crown… it's where you can find me,”

His eyes narrowed, memorizing the point and landmarks. Coruscant was a massive place after all. The eagerness of it was charming me and I leaned against his chest just in time for the couple in front of us to move.

I stepped up and motioned for two orders from the attendant, turning to relax against the pick up counter. Crosshair leaned over me, keeping his body mostly turned to the room.

“You live at the club?”

“No… I live where you picked me up, you won't find me there though, I usually stay at Kahtzi’s in The Spire, No one looks for me there…”

“But you want me to?”

“Sure… if you don't die in some gruesome way or another,”

He made an amused tone, but his eyes went distant, then flicked back to the smear of red in the far off projected sky before it shimmered out of focus again, casting a new illusion of a distant land.

“And Kahtzi, she's gonna… fight me?”

“Hm?”

“Jar'ath… he said she'd want a piece of me,”

I choked on the guffaw that tried to escape me.

“Oh, oh no li’nen, she'll wanna kriff you,”

He looked stunned.

“Because… you like me?”

“Mm, it's a twisted kind of protectiveness, wants to make sure I'm not being too nice and faking it to spare your feelings or… something,”

He raised an eyebrow trying to process this… complication?

“I don't really get it either, I think she wants to give the guy I end up with pointers or something,”

“You and yours are… strange.”

“Welcome to Strange, here I thought you were a resident yourself,”

That earned a chuckle, and it seemed like processing my ‘strangeness’ was put on a back burner.

I was handed our snacks, two spice rolls in each little paper tray, and put Cross’s next to his hand on the bar before taking a bite of my own. The flaking crust dissolved with whatever fat they used to make the layers, the spices salty and slightly acidic, all rounded off with a sweet cream filling.

It was divine and I moaned deep in my chest in delight, closing my eyes as I savored the dessert.

I had taken another bite before the feeling of being watched became apparent and turned to look at the man looming over me. He was once again stern with intensity. I struggled to swallow the over zealous chunk of pastry, wiping the bit of cream that had landed on my chin and licking it from my finger.

“What? You see the guy?”

He leaned down, growling in my ear,

“You didn't make noises like that when I was inside of you,”

The sudden plain vulgarity sent a heat through me, crashing to my core. My guard had been down and I could feel my cheeks flush, my eyes glazing over with sudden need… his voice was husky,

“What do I have to do, to make you sound that satisfied?”

I couldn't answer, his whole demeanor had changed. The kisses had been playful, daring, and charged with mischief… but this was a possessive lust tinged with a bit of hurt pride. He leaned in closer so that his breath tickled my neck, his lips brushing my ear.

“I don't plan on holding back with you…”

“Ooh, you better not…”

…

A child let out a high pitched scream, snapping us back to reality. We separated partially, and I finished the sweet I had been working on while Cross picked up the first of his. He took a bite and made a similar noise to my groan of pleasure, eyebrows raising at the mix of flavors.

“Good, right?”

I chuckled, and he went back to scanning the crowd.

“Let's move,”

He said suddenly, picking up our paper cartons and quickly shifting me to the other side of the stand, weaving us towards the service doors.

I casually glanced over my shoulder and caught what had spooked him. A slight figure, dressed plainly for the tourist crowd, walking swiftly in a little too straight a line in our direction.

Show time.

I picked up the pace to be even with Cross as we got closer to the double doors that would lead to a wide tunnel for staff and deliveries.

We didn't look back as we pushed through, the heavy doors hissing on their hydraulics, shuffling quickly passed workers who turned their heads questioningly as we went by.

“You got a plan?”

“Working on it,”

We had looked over the public blueprints of the back halls. Most things weren't listed but the outlines of rooms had to be shown for emergency purposes. There would be a few turn offs before we reached the side entrance to the loading docks.

“We need to get rid of them before meeting our connection, for now, act normal like we don't know they're there,”

I quickly ate my remaining pastry roll, somewhat skipping along to keep up with Cross’s long stride. He kept his arm around me though, squeezing me occasionally to his side and leaning to give my temple little pecks as we walked. I could feel him scanning behind us whenever he did.

“Alright, we'll end this quickly,”

He gave my ass a squeeze as we passed the last few employees, backing me against a door alcove, leaning in as if to kiss me. Instead he whispered,

“Once we're through get on my back, and hurry,”

I nodded and he pressed the panel opening the door behind me.

As soon as it shut he knelt, and I climbed on, crushing my bag between his back and my front. The charging pack concealed under his cloak pressed into me uncomfortably but there wasn't much time to adjust as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

“Can you hold on?”

“Easy,”

He nodded and after sizing up the gap in the hall, put one foot on the wall, braced himself and then the other foot on the opposite. We climbed carefully like this, upwards like a spider, till we were nestled into the space above the door. He found foot holds on the framed doors, and leaned against me in the ceiling corner.

“Hold. Very. Still.”

I didn't move as he carefully braced against me, taking his hands off the walls and drawing his side arm, aiming it below us.

A few, shaking breaths, and the door swished open. The slight figure from before stepped into the narrow connector hall, carefully sweeping and seeing nothing. Cross squeezed the trigger, and they were down without even a whimper.

“Brace yourself,”

Crosshair let go of the footholds and we dropped to the floor. He stumbled a little from the uneven weight but we landed sound and I was put down again.

The assassin's pockets were turned out; nothing but a small data stick and their petite blaster in a leather holster.

“Here,”

He undid the belt and handed me the small gun.

“I’m not sure I should… not exactly trained like you,”

“Take it, next time someone grabs you just shoot them, it's not like it's hard,”

In today's headlines, Elite Sniper, shot in back of head after too much sass…

Eyes narrow, I took the belt and drew the gun, gripping the small handle, feeling the weight of the little pistol. It felt nice… right.

Crosshair had hit the projection on the data stick, the file inside was simple. A list of names.

Lieutenant Jerimnah Hervos - Confirmed Petty Officer Kuregt Talosi - Confirmed Aviation Specialist Kerna Holotsa - Confirmed Petty Officer Suito Jurlois - Confirmed Comms Specialist Gurino Frasolti - Confirmed Clone Commander CT-9904 - Unknown Comms Specialist Hailla Jua - Confirmed Nav Specialist Tai Kinu - Confirmed Civilian Tah’nyem Ra - Unknown

“What is that?”

Kerna’s name was on it, and mine, but Crosshair's was the only clone code on the list… it couldn't be a complete ships dossier.

As I watched, the status by our names switched from ‘Unknown’ to ‘Active.’

“I don't know…”

I wasn't sure he was telling the truth.

“Let's hope we don't have to find out,”

He pocketed the data stick, and before I could blink my back was pressed against the wall, hands in my hair pulling my head backwards as my lips were roughly claimed by the tall figure pressing against me.

He lifted me slightly, pinning my hips with his to grind his codpiece between my legs. The hard metal hurt in a delicious way and I groaned as the embers from earlier were breathed into new life with my desperate gasping against his lips.

Hands slid over my breasts, the silk of the fabric transferring the heat from him to feel more distinct than if it was direct contact.

I let out a little whine when he pulled away, his raspy voice coming to me as a pant,

“Soon… soon,”

He nuzzled my hair as I slid back down to standing. I didn't want to wait, waiting was making me… irrational; Reaching for his belt, sliding fingers around the edge of the codpiece, feeling how tight the fabric underneath had gotten.

He found my lips again, unhooking my fingers from his armor.

“Soon, we have to go,”

~~~

We casually slipped into the loading dock, passing droids operating sparking tools. The wrecked pods were in the middle of a wide track running the length of the hangar style structure being loaded into a larger towing barge. There were hundreds of participants, and they scattered about sorting out their pods and dock numbers.

“What do we do now?”

“Loading dock 54, we're meeting the captain of team 88,”

I scanned the bays. Luckily the entrance we used dropped us in the middle of the docks, we were already in the fifties.

“Wait!”

I let out a delighted little squeal and pranced over to the pod parked at dock 54, throwing myself over its shiny yellow nose.

“Hey baby, did you miss me?”

Crosshair was slowly tailing after me, puzzled by my draped form over the racing vessel. I felt silly not noticing, but a lot had been happening since the race started.

“Cross, meet my baby, Cowardly Jyck,”

“It's yours?”

“Mhmm, I'm not allowed to pilot it… obviously, but it’s mine, I own the team,”

Well, my father does, and manages it. Explains why they didn't bother to send anyone for me, we were already here.

“Why would you name a racer ‘cowardly?’”

“Mm, it's fitted for defensive piloting,”

I stroked the paint job, noticing a large gash in the black and yellow stripes on the back hull.

“Oh baby, what'd they do to you?”

“Oi, ger’off me pod, woman!”

I sighed, sitting up to straddle the vehicle.

“Hello Sevill,”

The small woman looked up at me.

“T… I sai’ geroff,”

“You know damn well it's my pod,”

“Like varp, I'm d’pilot,”

I gyrated my hips against the hood of the pod sticking my tongue out, causing Sevill to roll her massive eyes.

“Ya finna ruin d’paint job,”

“Looks like you already did,”

Crosshair cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows in amusement, but also pointedly glancing at the living mechanics who stopped working to stare in our direction.

I slipped off the pod.

“An who's dis, den?”

Sevill stepped back so she could see more than Cross’s codpiece.

“Don't you recognize T’s scandalous new squeeze?”

A Ga'haiian I recognized had approached after Sevill.

“An ‘ow I'm s’posed ta do dat, den?

“You're telling me you kept your eyes on the track the whole time?”

She pointedly cocked her head at the gash in the side of the pod.

“Dunny' see what dat's got to do wit it…”

Sevill grumbled, but stepped away to start working on strapping the pod's engines into the loading flat.

“How've you been Ger’nahei?”

“Not as good as you apparently, your team places top ten and you've got yourself a new toy,”

She was pacing about Cross, scanning down his sleek armor. To the Clone’s credit, he seemed to be getting used to my peer’s lack of boundaries and base level respect. It was amusing seeing how small he looked next to Ger’nahei, who stood a full head over him.

Being full blooded Ga'haiian, her skin was slightly darker than mine, her hair pure white and tied into braids that pulled the silvery strands away from her face. Her frame was built to handle the strenuous life of being on the move with tons of mechanical equipment in tow. She was the Captain of team Yellow Jyck, and I gave her a big hug around her middle.

“If I knew you guys were racing today I would have come down here sooner,”

“Well, as we established, you had your… distractions, besides, your Vah'hadarr has never been very specific, wouldn't be the first time he left out important details,”

“Mm, it's like he thinks no one will actually have to use his contingencies…”

It was a bad habit of hubris, overconfident that his first plan is foolproof and no one needs to know about the details but himself.

“So we're hitching with you guys?”

“Sort of, the cab can only fit the two of us, and we're supposed to keep you off the check point registry,”

Sevill had popped the pit team and the little droids began guiding the flat packed pod onto the small freighter through gate 54.

“You two will be riding with the pod, you'll need to be loaded in before they weigh the crate so… load up Missy,”

“I'm riding… in the back?... The back of a freighter,”

“That's right,”

Ger'nahei laughed at my miffed expression.

“C’mon, I'll show you,”

Cross leaned in as the tall woman walked ahead, trailing the pod as it locked into place in the truck’s hold.

“Looks like we'll be alone,”

He walked ahead to follow her, introducing himself as I had failed to, leaving me with the implications of what was to come once these doors closed on us. I shivered in anticipation, the incredulity of riding in cargo melting into something dull witted and needy.

I snapped out of it and hurried into the open truck. The pod was locked into the back nearest the door, it's engines folded underneath. Connector cables were strewn about everywhere and after I picked my way through them I found Crosshair and Ger'nahei chatting over a bank of heavy tools clipped into the wall. Sevill popped through a smaller door on the side of the truck towards the front… I noticed there wasn't direct access to the cab.

Alone indeed.

“Dunny touch me tools,”

Sevill harrumphed as she passed the chatting pair.

“Dunny touch d’pod, in fact dunny touch any’ting, including me cot”

She gestured to the small bunk tucked near the tools.

The front end of the hold was set up like a makeshift workshop, besides the tools and the cot, there was a low workbench clean and tidy and a small cubby behind a folding door.

“Freshers ‘hind the door here, just a piss pot but better dan notin’... Enjoy”

She bowed in a sarcastic manner, collapsed the pit droids and left out the side door again.

Ger'nahei and Cross finished their exchange and she moved to close the back doors, locking them in place.

“Touch whatever, just be quiet and sit tight till we're on the road, if you jiggle the scale the jigs up early,”

She walked to the side door glancing back in at the two of us,

“It'll be three hours till we get to East Station, More if traffic goes to shyte, You'll be let out there before the container is loaded to the border train, get comfy it’s gonna be a while,”

The door was shut and bolted from the outside, leaving us in muffled silence.

Crosshair dumped the duffle on the cot, followed by his rifle, placed more carefully, then the cloak falling in a rumple over everything else. The engines rumbled to life beneath our feet, causing us to sway as it started to pull from the slotted bay.

His gaze fixed to me, poised across the bay against the shifting pulls of gravity. He crooked his finger in a beckoning motion. I raised my brow in challenge,

“Maybe you should use your words,”

His eye gave a small twitch, then the corner of his mouth. Words fell between his lips in a hiss,

“Come to me, Tahny,”

A demand that would normally make me bristle instead sent a ripple down my spine, warming me, spurning me into motion. One step, across the rocking floor, another, and I was in his waiting arms.

As his lips fell upon me, hot against mine, lacking in the careful restraint that had floated through us throughout the day, a sliver of reservation dropped through me. Almost as if my instincts were calling in one final check, one more, ‘Are you sure?,’ in the form of old Hyretta’s voice from a smoke laden card game ages ago…

“Never invite a man into your bed twice unless he's paying,”

The old call girl had chuckled, puffing on her death stick.

“You'll never get rid of him, baby girl,”

I had lived by that till now, well not the… paid part, but as there's yet to be a bed maybe I've found the loophole.

Cross seemed to notice my distracted air, biting my lip to bring me back to him and I wrapped my arms about his narrow hips. Confident my attention was where it was supposed to be he darted his tongue out to sooth the nipped skin before slipping it into my mouth. I sucked on it, greedy for the chaos that was whatever we had started doing with our lives.

He shifted to lean back against the hood of the strapped in pod, pulling me to rest against his chest. I cradled his head, elbows to either side of his slim face and stroked the tender scar over his ear. His hands dropped to grip my ass, pulling my hips in to grind against his still armored groin eliciting a pathetic mewl of need as he kissed me rough and unrelenting.

“Just take me Cross, I need this…”

“Mm, not yet, I'm too worked up to last long like this…”

He pulled back in an attempt to cool off slightly, I had different ideas.

“We'll just…”

I slid off him, fingers going for the edge of his codpiece. He didn't protest as I clumsily pulled it from the magnetized fasteners, dumping the metal piece and his belt with the growing pile on the cot.

“...reset a little,”

I smirked triumphantly as I leaned back in, stroking the obvious bulge straining against the tight black fabric before slipping my fingers into the waistband. He groaned as I undid the pull strap and eased them down over the dark patch of hair they hid, letting his cock swing free. I took him in hand, biting back a soft moan myself.

He was already heavy with blood, the vein along the underside swelling as my fingers gently caressed the velvety length of him. His eyes were on me, I'm sure he knew of my intentions long before I slid to my knees to nuzzle his exposed member.

His eyes fluttered as he fought the urge to close them, sighing low as I slowly, teasingly lapped my tongue up the main vein, flicking over the edge of the swollen head before letting it rest against my lips. He was musky from the sweat of the days activities, the masculine scent sending little waves of lust through me.

“Should I continue?”

My lips brushed his head, causing his cock to bob from a violent twitch, tapping my lips as his breath got heavy.

“Kriff, Tahny, please do something…”

His hips bucked in frustration wanting in my mouth already. I obliged, opening with a little ‘ah’ allowing him to thrust in, massaging him with my lips as his head ground into my pallet and he sighed in relief. I bobbed shallowly at first, pressing against the ridge of his head with my tongue, working his shaft at a comfortable depth.

The trick was not to overstimulate him the first time, I relaxed my tongue to a more passive role, guiding him away from my teeth, bobbing a rhythm matching his shallow thrusts against the softer tissue near my throat earning me a series of soft little moans as he desperately pressed against the resisting tightness. He was right, not gonna last long at all.

Something was going on outside the truck, we shuddered as the vehicle stopped and a loud whine echoed around the hold, though it didn't do much to distract us.

His hands found their way into my hair, lacing into the shorter strands in the back. He kept me at pace, thrusting and pushing me down on him as his breath slowed to a ragged pant.

The cargo bay suddenly dropped, not far, but enough to displace us, bouncing against the hood of the pod and thrusting his cock past the barrier of my tonsils. I whimpered at the sudden stretch, tears pricking my eyes as air was cutoff, but held fast at the strangled cry that had Crosshair twitching in my throat. He came, pushing as far as he could till my nose was tickled by the soft patch of hair at his base.

Easy… easy.

I calmed the instincts that wanted to clamp down at the invading rod, desperately seeking the balance needed to sooth my muscles from spasming.

We both tensed as someone jiggled the side door to a sharp reprimand from what sounded like Ger’nahei.

I tapped the plate on his thigh and he jumped, releasing me and sliding his softening manhood out from where it was still hugged by my throat allowing me to gulp air.

“Better?”

I finally asked once my breathing was again even. He was looking at me, kneeling between his legs; Eyes teared up, wiping at the glistening saliva that had dripped down my chin with the back of my hand.

“Not even close…”

“Good, we have time though…”

We had just finished being weighed and hadn't even left the loading station yet. I stood and wobbled to the tiny closet refresher as the truck set into motion again, splashing a bit of water from the sink on my face.

When I turned back, Crosshair was still sprawled on the hood of the podracer, everything tucked away where it was supposed to be. He was taking in the wall of tools for maintaining the pod, fingers taping his chest plate idly as if he was deep in thought.

“A credit for your accounts?”

“Hmm”

“Just looks like your brain’s whirring”

“I'll keep my schemes to myself,”

“Scheming is it?”

I slinked to him, lifting myself back onto his chest with a foot on the pod's bumper and laying my head against the plated armor. He wrapped an arm about my waist and I clenched my teeth, trying to suppress the jolts the touch was sending through me. He may have gotten some relief but my need had only grown hotter and more demanding.

He pretended not to notice but his fingers started to tap more deliberately on my waist where the fabric was thin, the skin underneath soft and vulnerable. I could hear a low rumble through the chest plate, an amused response to the little twitches, the attempts to mask what he was doing to me somewhat obvious.

He struck quickly, fingers grabbing into my sides and ass, hugging me tighter to him. The shock sent a wave of tingles snapping my spine to press into him more and I cried out from the sudden waves of ecstasy. My face flushed, I was getting too sensitive.

“Who knew such a brat could be so cute?”

“Euch… cute?”

“Cute.”

“That's it, put me down,”

I struggled against him, mockingly… but it took a bit of effort to make the show convincing.

Kriff he's strong…

He cupped my chin, tightening his other arm to still me.

“You’re cute. Deal with it.”

He cut off further protest, pressing his lips to mine causing me to hum into him. I caught his bottom lip with my teeth tugging it a little too hard. He just moaned softly as my teeth slid off the tender flesh, clicking as his lip freed itself.

“I'm done scheming,”

He announced, sliding off the hood of the pod, leaving me standing rather wobbly and bemused. Scooping something from between the cables, he lifted himself to the open cockpit of the pod and sat on the back of the chair, feet on the seat. A tap tap to his thigh to summon me and I picked my way over to the side of the racer.

“Up there?”

“Up here,”

“Little tight don't you think?”

His lips quirked at that and I crawled up the side and into the cockpit, kneeling on the seat between his legs. A length of knit cord was strung between his hands, being untangled and wrapped into a neater spool.

“And what are we planning with that?”

“Stand up and you'll see,”

I hummed incredulously and he smirked,

“Not used to being helpless?”

I looked up at him through my bangs. It's not that Kahtzi and I hadn't used restraints, it was more that Kahtzi was a harmless tooka kit in comparison to the man in front of me.

“Honestly, I've only really tied myself up… Kahtzi doesn't have a knack for it,”

“So you've never been in restraints you couldn't get out of…”

“Pretty much,”

He chuckled, stroking my hair reassuringly.

“Always in control, aren't you? Don't you trust me?”

…

“With my life,”

His eyes shone brightly, reflecting the dim work light from the bench as he scanned my face, searching… I tried again.

“I trust you Crosshair,”

I reached up from where I knelt between his knees, cradling his chin in my hands.

It's okay…

He swallowed hard, raising me to stand and lean back so that my hips nestled against the steering module, handles to either side of me. It slightly protruded over the edge of the pod's hood in its locked position.

Pressing one of my wrists to a handle, he wrapped the cord around loosely a few times, sliding the end back under the loops created to tighten the binding. This was repeated on the other handle till I was tightly tied leaning against the pod’s dash.

“Try those,”

He was focused on my wrists and I pulled at the ropes as requested. They seemed to tighten at my little tug. He made a pleased noise,

“Not going anywhere…”

He undid the holster at my waist and gave my hip a light smack, hopping out of the pod and walking out of view. He was by the tool wall, but I couldn't turn far enough to see what he was doing.

“And now you torture me for information, right?”

“Something like that,”

Very reassuring.

Some rustling, tapping, a few clicks and footsteps pacing back in my direction, Crosshair appearing before me again a moment later.

I raised my brow in question at the cord dragging after him. He whipped it around for more leverage as he climbed into the cockpit again, settling into the shallow bucket seat in front of me. He was holding something but I still couldn't figure it.

Our knees were about even like this, his tucked between mine, spreading them further as he pinned them with his own.

He brandished what he had brought with him… a sort of narrow sander with a soft pad buffer attachment. I was starting to put two and two together.

“I don't think that's what that's used for…”

He just shrugged, wrapping one of Sevill’s clean work towels around the padded head for more cushion.

“Don't think you can handle it?”

I wasn't sure anyone could, not like I'd ever admit that though, so I shrugged, the cords creaking around my wrists.

His hand slid up my thigh, settling into the joint that creased the soft fabric, thumb tracing the seam running up the groin of my pants. The tingles ran through me, delicious and warm as he gently massaged the soft mound underneath causing me to sigh from the ache of it all. He was subtly shifting the fabric, moving the seam from where it might cover the folds creating an even surface that clung to the shape of the labia beneath.

“If you need me to stop, say so,”

Leaning in, he kissed the outline of me and I inhaled sharp through my teeth as his skin warmed the suede over my barely guarded vulva. Then, the tool clicked on.

I looked down at him, that mischievous look back in his eyes as he drew his lips away from me replacing it with the towel dampened buffer.

My body jerked instantly at the intense vibration. It had more power behind it than the toys Kahtzi and I had and my knees tried to buckle at the zap to my nervous system. Cross still had my legs pinned in a splayed position, and I hung from the steering wheel a moment before the next jolt had my back arched.

I was choking on the gasps that tried escaping me as I thrashed against the bindings at my wrists. It felt good, it hurt, it was too much and my brain couldn't take it. My legs were working again, attempting to kick, propell me over the hood and away from the stimulation.

“Don’t run from it, Tahny.”

His voice was commanding as he pushed the tool against me. Applying pressure from the flat, vibrating surface in rhythmic beats, finding and matching the gasping breaths I was still managing between violent twitches. I was getting close fast, but it was almost difficult with just how strong the sensation was.

“You're gonna cum Tahny, you hear me?”

My back was arching, the ropes holding me in place getting tighter. I was trembling and taught and hooked on his words.

“Nod if you're still in there,”

He chuckled, started to push the vibrations into me with a rough, static pulse.

I nodded weakly.

“You're close, I can see it, so you're gonna cum -stop struggling- when I say so,”

His words sparked the fuse, the motions against my clit growing more forceful the rhythm staying steady.

“Three…”

It was like a wave was rising in me, looming over the shore of my senses,

“Two…”

He was counting me down, the very act of it serving to push me further, the wave higher.

“One… Cum now, Tahny.”

He pushed the attachment against me, held it there, and the wave crashed, flooding in and over me.

“Oh kriff Cross!”

I stood rigid as the orgasm flowed through me like an electrical current, painfully intense. My knees tried to close around him like a vice only to meet the unyielding barrier of his legs holding me… then tension released me and I crumpled.

The tool clicked off.

“Good girl.”

His hand replaced the buffer, gentle and soothing against the swollen, overstimulated flesh. I whimpered as even the small brushes of his fingers rocked through me.

“How many of those till we break that pretty little brain of yours…”

My eyes widened and he chuckled, the sound more predatory than amused.

“Some other time, I've been wanting this all day,”

He grabbed my knees and flipped me up to lay over the hood of the pod with a thunk, anchored by the steering handles, hanging slightly upside down towards the sloped nose. My legs were pushed together and up over his shoulder as he stood, hands undoing the fasteners to the altered slacks.

The pants were pulled up halfway, a string of moisture clinging to them to glisten in the light. He eyed it hungrily as he twisted the cloth to bind my legs at the knee. His eyes roved down the backs of my thighs to the bud nestled between them, lingering on the slightly faded bruises from our previous coupling.

“You didn't tell me these were here…”

He ran a gloved finger over the discoloration on my flesh.

“I didn't think you were interested,”

“I'm interested.”

He leaned in to drag his teeth over the light bruise and I sighed at how good the gentle contact felt. He closed his mouth over one, sucking the soft flesh forcefully to leave another little mark.

Slipping his gloves off, he traced a cool digit up my folds, pressing on the sensitive button to pull a sharp squeal from me, before retracing it's track down to plunge into my wet slit.

I jerk violently again, the coolness of his skin feeling like ice against the blood hot walls squeezing around it. The pressure of it against the over stimulated nerves lining my depths made my legs tremble. I was far too sensitive, and let out a little, strangled cry.

“Don't over react… it's just. One. Finger.”

He punctuated each word by drawing out and then back into me none too gently and I moaned, squirming under his attention.

“You're gonna cum again as soon as I'm in at this rate,”

He had taken his cock from his blacks, stroking his length, recovered and rock hard for the task ahead. His finger kept working my cunt, dragging along where the nerves were thickest in painfully slow motions while he pumped his shaft.

I was panting already, the pleasure of being pushed so far making me nearly incoherent as I struggled to watch what he was doing, I wanted him more than ever.

He withdrew his finger, drawing over and lubricating the skin that was pressed together between my closed thighs. He licked the digit clean, holding my eyes to make sure I watched, before guiding his cock to my ready opening. Sliding it up and down, teasing me into making desperate little whines.

“Hurry Cross…”

“Eager for me?”

“Very,”

Dignity can go kark itself.

His eyes darkened with lust and he lined his head up to my quivering sex, pressing in slowly, letting me feel every stretch, every tantalizing inch as he filled me, pushing hard till he was buried to the hilt.

I sobbed at the sensation, the electricity that ran through me as I was massaged from the inside grew with every inch I took. With that final push the dam broke and my over sensitive tissue clenched around him as I came again, the stimulation already too much; voice strained from the horrid tension,

“Kriff…”

He didn't let me recover, instead, swinging his hips into motion, pulling out to slam back in hard and I arched my back moaning heatedly. It felt too good, my flesh hot and swollen to feel everything; the curve of his shaft, the flair of his head…I swore I could make out his veins as they pulsed against the walls that gripped him. He groaned, teeth scraping along the fabric on my calf before he plowed into me again, picking up pace.

My brain went foggy, the waves of pleasure swallowing me till I was blind with it, euphoric mist and glitter. His hand was tugging my top open, a button pinging off the metal as it popped from its thread, roughly grabbing my handful of bouncing breasts, pinching the nipple. His other arm was wrapped around my legs, keeping them braced to his shoulder as they shook with each violent thrust.

That false tranquility had fallen over me, my senses completely overridden by pleasure, the pod had become a cloud and nothing mattered besides the cock hammering into me, making me feel like this… light and airy and good.

His cheek was pressed against my calves and he smirked down at me. He had quickly picked up on the signs I was close again and was intent on driving me there. It looked like his stamina was holding strong.

I soared higher, my brain buzzing as my breath switched from gasps to a ragged heaving. The walls of my quim throbbing around him, making him groan as he brought me to climax. My back arched again, and I fell silent, lungs arrested by the taught muscles throughout me. The static from my brain spread hot over my skin, until my fingers and toes began to tingle.

Then I was limp, completely spent.

He wasn't finished with me, and shifted to hold the tight bunch of fabric at my knees down to my middle, folding me in half, leaning over me with a more animalistic ferocity. His hips snapped into me, ruining me with aggressive, wet pops of skin against skin and a vulgar, lost groaning from deep in his throat. I hung over the hood of the pod helplessly, feeling fluid running from my ravaged cunt down my ass onto the dash and hood. I didn't want him to ever stop, I didn't know what would happen if he stopped, if I fell from this high.

There was no more mounting pleasure, I had plateaued and now swam in a haze of ecstasy, tingles swirling into life with every stroke of him pressing against my insides. Pain didn't exist here, thoughts didn't either, just him and this strange little idea I supposed was me hanging above everything else.

“You still in there, Tahny?”

Barely

“Crosshair…”

It was more sighed than said, and I struggled to focus my eyes on him. His breath hitched in a feral groan and he grabbed my thighs, pulling me closer to sheath himself as deep as possible as he came. His twitches echoed through my own muscles, sensitive beyond belief to the small jerking motions against my clenched sex clamped around him.

Then he too, was still, besides the occasional kiss to the back of my calf between his ragged panting.

We were both gasping to catch our breath, easier once he could pull out to unfold me, and I willed my heartbeat to return to something resembling normal as he eased my legs to hang back in the cockpit around his own.

He had started tugging at the knots to undo the restraints while I finished gaining my composure.

“Whoever taught you that,”

I finally breathed, still partially upside down.

“Remind me to send them a ‘Thank You’ holo.”

He stopped his motions and stood up to lean over the dash, looking me straight in the eyes with nothing but befuddlement.

“Are you kriffing mad?”

~~~

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moonstrider9904 · 8 months ago

Text

Flyin' Ace

Chapter 4 of Moonwalker: The Flame

{series masterlist} {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to Wattpad} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: The crew are led to Safa Toma, where a deal struck with the gangster Millegi results in a stunt to protect Sarah's honor.

Tags/Warnings: Mature. Allusions to gangs, some foul language, smoking, alcohol.

Word count: 7.2k

Songs:dirtmouth

If Sarah had known what they were getting themselves into, she at least would have insisted on leaving Omega on Ord Mantell. Letting her be by herself for a while, even if it was enclosed in the Y-Wing with Rigel on standby, would have struck her as safer. Echo and Hunter were bound to return soon, anyway.

Instead, there they were, the entire rest of the squad walking the even seedier streets around the Safa Toma race dome. Sarah thought back to her days as a pirate chilling in Hondo’s lair, and that seemed like a high-end dive bar compared to where they were now. Cid led the way at the front and center, with Sarah at her right side. Sarah kept Omega to her left, behind Cid, figuring that would at least be where the smallest of the group would be most protected. And, bringing up the rear, Tech and Wrecker towered over the three ladies like two bodyguards, fully armored and unafraid of whoever may have so much as hinted at a dirty look their way.

Cid looked over her right shoulder at Sarah and made a brief gesture at her. Sarah picked up her pace and, mindful of still being Omega’s cover in some way, she evened her position with the Trandoshan and leaned in, prompting hushed voices. No one else needed to be listening in.

“Glad ya came,” Cid said. “This pit of filth and scum should be a piece of cake for a former pirate like you.”

Sarah took it as a compliment. “I did see some things over at Hondo’s. Never a riot racing dome.”

“Ya ain’t here for the racing,” Cid pulled to a stop. “I am.”

The multiple speeders tailgating after the other down at the track raced by their area, the revving of their engines rising and then falling. When they were out of sight, Cid faced the crew behind her. “My new racer’s gonna make us enough for two months, at least!”

“Aw, look at you being generous,” Sarah walked up next to Cid, overlooking the racing track with a confident, arrogant little smile. “We’re getting a two month vacation with this pay? I kinda like that.”

Cid chuckled. “Ya know what I mean, Strider, don’t push it.”

As Sarah enjoyed the view and the memories of her scrappy past, Cid looked around the crowd, wary, though it didn’t seem there was anyone targeting her or her companions. There may have just been one face among the crowd with particularly unfriendly eyes looking her way… or perhaps not?

At the possibility, Cid scrambled past the clones and led the way again. “We should head down to meet Tay-0. We’re not ‘ere to spectate.”

Sarah picked up on the sudden change of pace as well as the way Cid suddenly became more tense, and she walked up to Wrecker first, grasping his forearm lightly.

“Whatever happens, prioritize Omega, will you?” Sarah whispered.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Wrecker nodded.

Sarah smiled softly, appreciative of Wrecker’s reassurance—he was a pillar of strength, and not just physically. She then hurried to the front next to Cid, and she leaned in again, more secretive than before.

“If we’re to keep hell from breaking loose, you need to tell us who to look out for,” Sarah told Cid.

“You got good instinct,” Cid muttered. “You call the shots.”

Sarah couldn’t help but pull back at Cid’s words, her eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

“What?” Cid questioned.

Sarah chuckled. “Nothing. Just that… well, you’ve got a damn good right hand in me.”

Cid’s shoulders relaxed, and her lizard-like features seemed to adopt a hint of a smile. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

Sarah smiled softly, oddly proud to be the one Cid recognized as in charge on the mission. But Sarah took such a responsibility seriously, and for the rest of the way, her gaze was ever-vigilant and aware of any pair of eyes that fell on them.

The squad made it down to the sidelines of the racing tracks without difficulty. The speeder that belonged to Cid’s infamous racer seemed prominent while it was parked on the sidelines, and Omega instantly ran towards it, eyes big with curiosity. Tech followed closely behind, already pulling out his datapad, no doubt wanting to check his own records to get a better grasp of what the vehicle was and, of course, how to improve it.

As Sarah watched Tech go about his business, she smiled softly at the sight of him so expertly making his way around the speeder.

“Many modifications have been made, that is for sure,” Tech was explaining. “A speeder of this caliber was not built for racing conditions, neither speed or weapon-wise.”

“Um, ahem!”

Every pair of eyes that had gathered around the speeder turned in the same direction when a male and slightly mechanized voice filled their ears. A tall, thin-looking droid was approaching them, its strut almost as confident as if it were human. When it was just in front of the crew, its hands flew to its metal hips and it leaned forward slightly, indignant.

“Who so disrespectfully criticizes my vehicle?” The droid bellowed.

“It is not criticism, it is an evaluation,” Tech said as he raised the visor of his helmet and looked at the droid, his expression clearly visible through his goggles. “Do you manage this vehicle for the racer?”

“I am the racer,” the droid said.

Everyone then looked at Cid, who walked up to the droid and slapped its back.

“This is Tay-0, my own little money-maker,” she introduced.

“At your service,” Tay-0 took a light bow.

Meanwhile, Tech looked over at Cid, skeptical. “Your runner is a droid?”

“Hey, human!” Tay-0 walked up to Tech and challenged him. “Do you think you have the mental capacity to make a split-second calculation required in the heat of a race?”

“He does, actually,” Sarah chimed in, smirking over at Tech.

Though his helmet covered most of his face, the way Tech’s eyes glistened as they hovered over to Sarah and lingered only for a second didn’t escape her. Regardless, his gaze was back on Tay-0, firm, yet sincere.

“I do not have the background or knowledge of the sport to provide an answer,” Tech said. “However, I have made split-second calculations in battle amidst blaster fire, which is not the same as racing, but similar in that there is an imminent threat that must be addressed swiftly to ensure victory. Perhaps my experience will enrich yours, and yours may enrich mine.”

“All I want to hear is praise, human boy,” Tay-0 dismissed. “So if it ain’t that, I don’t want to hear it.”

The droid waltzed off and retired into the garage, moving the speeder in towards it. Meanwhile, Sarah approached Tech from behind, her hand landing over his shoulder.

“Well, he seems delightful,” she scoffed.

“I am curious,” Tech said. “If machinery eliminates human error, does that mean the ideal racer is a droid? What is Tay-0’s margin of error, and how does it compare to that of the organic racers? If his win-rate is not 100%, does his droid nature influence who he loses to? In other words, does he only lose to droids who can perform similarly quick calculations? And this raises a different question—we are now adding a different factor to success in a race: the vehicle, the ability of the racer, their organic nature or lack thereof, and in the latter case, who has the better programming. This has potential to be truly fascinating to analyze.”

“Well, I don’t really like this place,” Sarah briefly squeezed the plastoid on Tech’s shoulder—she particularly enjoyed the sound of Tech’s voice modulated by his helmet and was grateful he’d given her such a speech in it, “but now I’m hoping we stick around long enough for you to answer all those questions.”

Tech faced her, his eyes softening over his goggles. “That was quite a compliment you gave me a moment ago.”

Sarah smiled at him. “And there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Look alive,” Wrecker called from behind, instantly drawing Tech and Sarah’s attention to the group of people who were approaching them.

The group was led by a large Dowutin male and followed by three other figures, of whom one was a Gamorrean guard, and the other one had a recognizable face since it was plastered on multiple posters around the racing dome—it was Jet Venim, another one of the racers.

“Cid,” the Dowutin called out. “You didn’t tell me you were back around. I resent you for not telling me.”

“Millegi,” Cid acknowledged. “That’s ‘cuz I wasn’t really plannin’ on seein’ ya.”

“Well, that’s on you, since you know this is my turf,” Millegi said as he got a quick glance at Sarah and the others. “Got a new crew there. Aren’t you gonna introduce us?”

“Their names are non’ya business,” Cid crossed her arms.

Towering over everyone else, Millegi scanned the crew standing guard behind Cid, and his gaze landed on Sarah, who stared back at him, unwavering.

“Nice tattoos,” he said to her.

Sarah tilted her head slightly and opted to use her charisma rather than anger a prominent gambling figure of Safa Toma.

“Thanks,” she smirked. “Made ‘em myself.”

“I once heard an old friend talk about someone who looked like you,” Millegi paced closer towards her—it didn’t escape him the way the two clones tensed as he did. “A pirate who graced her gang with her presence, but then left too soon, and all to be a heroic soldier, only to never be heard of again. You’re her, aren’t you?”

Sarah scoffed ever so softly.

“Hondo’s Sarah Adhara,” Millegi concluded and brought the large cigar up to his mouth, taking in a large inhale before lowering it once more, exhaling. “You’re a legend. What will the Ohnaka gang think when they hear their prized jewel played a part in losing a bet against Millegi?”

Sarah knew a signal of deference was in order, one that was just daring enough to also establish a certain territory, a relationship of mutual respect rather than to let Millegi know he stood before a doormat. Sarah paced forward slowly with a subtle sway of her hips, her back straight and features calm as she reached her hand out and took the cigar from Millegi. Without breaking eye contact even to blink, Sarah took a long inhale from the cigar and removed it from her lips, blowing the smoke out through her nose and letting it flow up in front of her face, and at last, her lips curved slightly when faint expressions of satisfactions were heard coming from Millegi’s crew. Towering over her, Millegi smirked at Sarah’s gesture.

“If my reputation precedes me, then you know I don’t want trouble,” Sarah said, handing him the cigar back. “Surely, you have bigger fish to fry than a mercenary and her new crew. We don’t deserve such attention.”

“I beg to differ,” Millegi spoke. “Your racer’s going up against mine, and Cid and I have some unfinished business. That’s enough of a premise to strike a deal.”

Millegi then looked over Sarah’s shoulder at Cid with an aura of confidence. “I was thinking of giving you more of a run for your money, but I won’t ignore such a warm introduction,” he glanced at Sarah briefly, then back at Cid. “Let’s leave it at our usual wager, how’s that? For old times’ sake?”

Though she tried, Cid couldn’t mirror Millegi’s confidence, and her chest shrank as she crossed her arms.

“Alright, deal,” Cid spoke.

Sarah briefly glanced at Cid, painfully aware that the stakes had just been raised.

“Well, this will be fun,” Millegi said as he began to turn around, his gaze lingering on Sarah for a moment before he left.

Sarah followed him with her eyes as he and his crew left, and when they were out of sight, Sarah rushed over to her own team.

“Knew you’d be great here,” Cid placed her hands on her hips, smirking at Sarah. “You actually got Millegi to soften up.”

“The point was to be off the hook,” Sarah said. “But you still accepted the bet.”

“You know as well as I do you don’t just say no to a bet with someone like Millegi,” Cid countered.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you have muscle too,” Sarah gestured at Tech and Wrecker.

“Will ya ease up?” Cid grinned. “I know what I’m doin’. Tay-0’s gonna win, and Millegi’ll respect the wage. Win-win.”

“This droid better be the best damn racer in the galaxy for what I just did,” Sarah crooned.

“Which you pulled off great, kid,” Cid congratulated. “Now come on, when have you not been able to trust me? I always come through for ya.”

Sarah found it in herself to chuckle. Cid did have a point, and there had been multiple times where she’d indeed come through for them, for her, from the Y-Wing and Rigel to those nights spent talking over a glass of aged Corellian whisky.

“For now, enjoy the race,” Cid said. “We got some money to win.”

Cid went over to the speeder with Wrecker and Omega following after her, and Omega stopped briefly in front of Sarah, looking up at her with stars in her eyes.

“You were so cool just now!” Omega beamed.

Sarah chuckled. “Yeah…” she kneeled down and crouched slightly to be just below Omega’s eye level. “Listen, as long as we’re in Safa Toma, do as I say, not as I do. Got it?”

“Yes, mom,” Omega winked, then followed after Wrecker.

Sarah felt a tingling in her marks. She’d never heard Omega call her that… but the words rang sweetly in her mind, and teasing as it was, she’d accept it.

As Sarah was standing up, Tech walked up behind her. He’d removed his helmet and was hugging it beside him, and when he made eye contact with Sarah, his eyes were slightly widened in pleasant surprise.

“That was… unexpected,” Tech said.

“Yeah,” Sarah’s voice was soft. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Your cigar stunt,” Tech answered.

“Oh! Right, that…” She turned a right angle to face Tech, gazing up at his goggled eyes. “Well? What do you really think about that?”

Tech shrugged. “That was very…”

“Yes?” Sarah prompted, smirking at the plethora of ways in which Tech could possibly admit his feelings at that very moment.

“Unhealthy,” Tech spoke.

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, fair. Yes, that’s why I don’t do it often. I picked up the habit for about a month while at Hondo’s, but that’s it.”

“Dangerous,” Tech added.

“I like to think of it as calculated,” Sarah challenged. “You have to take some sort of a risk to establish your presence in places like these, but it looks like it went well.”

Ignoring Sarah’s explanations, Tech finally looked her in the eyes, his lips parting just enough for his teeth to bare with silent hunger. “And… absolutely, exquisitely enticing.”

Sarah cooed with a little wiggle of her shoulders. “Well, well.”

“Yes, in fact,” Tech leaned in close and hushed his voice. “I’m beginning to think we should have brought your outfit from the Old Ord Mantell ruins.”

Sarah gasped in a fake scandal. “Egads, Tech!”

“The brasier and skirt perfectly accentuate your best assets,” Tech justified his thesis.

“Come now,” Sarah teased. “We both know that’s just for you and me.”

Time wore on and the racers made their way to their speeders, even the arrogant droid Tay-0, and while he was off racing, Sarah and the others gathered around to watch, and not an ounce of suspense was spared.

Why the sport's name included the word "riot" became obvious the moment the speeders dashed past the starting line. The revving of the engines piled, one after the other, until the speeders disappeared past the first curves and tunnels of the course, leaving only the roaring cheering from the stands going wild and the announcer narrating the juiciest highlights from the track. Cid held a datapad that projected Tay-0's speeder, and as much as it surprised Sarah, he seemed to be a decent racer and a decent pilot, unwaveringly moving his own speeder to the lead and having all the others tailgating him in a matter of seconds.

Cid's excitement for the race was contagious. The prospect of winning and earning a few easy credits wasn't lost on anyone, but the overall rush of racing was what felt more attractive to Sarah, so much that a part of her was curious what it would be like to be down there racing, moving as fast as the wind, pulling stunts in front of a crowd and being the first one at the finish line. Of course, a speeder that wasn't designed for such speeds paled in comparison to a starship, and Sarah'd had her fair share of excitement inside her own Y-Wing.

But the excitement felt towards that race was short-lived, and the team's hopes came crashing down when Tay-0's speeder barely made it to the finish line, and not in first place. The speeder tumbled and crashed loudly into the side of the track, prompting everyone to instantly head down there running as varied cheers were heard from the crowd, from painfully taunting "Ooooh!" cries to cheers rampaging with excitement and satisfaction, for the moment Tay-0 became the loser, it was Millegi's racer who had been declared winner.

When Wrecker and Tech pulled Tay-0 out of the wreckage, it seemed for a moment that hope was lost. Tech took a closer look at the droid and locked gazes with Cid, then with Sarah.

"There is a remedy for this," Tech affirmed. "However, I cannot change the already disfavorable result of the race."

"Are you sure you can fix him?" Sarah questioned. "He... he literally lost his legs."

"The core circuitry seems to have overloaded due to the impact, but judging by his current state, Tay-0 is on standby," Tech said. "He is not yet a lost cause, however much I may dislike him."

"You and me both," Sarah muttered, crossing her arms. She suddenly felt a warning rising inside her, and her instincts jumped to alert as she felt multiple people approaching them. Surely enough, they were already being hoarded by Millegi and his racing crew, who only had one thing on their mind after the result of the previous race.

"You lose, you pay," Millegi opened. "How about that, Cid? You sure your star racer's gonna be okay?"

"We have the best mechanic in the galaxy," Cid was nearly successful in hiding all of her nervousness. "Now, about the payment..."

"You do have it, do you not?" Millegi chuckled. "I just wish you were as quick to pay as you are to claim a payment."

Tech and Wrecker inevitably exchanged looks, and the multiple meanings behind that paired with Millegi's remark, but Sarah chose to ignore it for the time being. She instead focused on Cid and her lack of money to pay, which wouldn't foretell a happy ending.

"And if there isn't any money, we're gonna have to keep you," Millegi finished.

"Wait, keep Cid?" Omega spoke up, her tiny, childlike figure scattering in front of Cid. "But you can't do that!"

Millegi chuckled, amused at the rare sight of a child in such a cruel environment. "It's time you learn, kid. A deal is a deal, and when someone can't pay up, the stakes are higher. Either that or you make sure you actually have enough money."

"But you can't take Cid away from us, she's our friend," Omega's worry was evident in her voice, and her big, bright brown eyes looked over at Sarah, then at her two brothers, begging them to do something.

"The thing is," Sarah chose to intervene, "we aren't really counting on splitting up. It's not something we do well."

Millegi seemed to ease up the moment Sarah spoke up, and just as tensions were rising amongst his crewmates at Cid and her crew's resistance, Millegi gave one swat of his hand to calm it all down. He then looked at Sarah again, his gaze gleaming with intrigue.

"Alright then," Millegi looked straight at Sarah. "I'm giving you the chance to make a counter offer."

But Sarah was out of ideas, and normally when that happened, Omega was quick to intervene with a bright idea of her own.

"Let us fix Tay-0 and run the next race," Omega said. "Tomorrow morning."

"That's not a counter offer," Millegi said. "You need to offer up something that'll make this second round more intriguing, kid."

"We'll pay you double if you win," Omega said, decisive.

Sarah couldn't help the way her gaze shot over at Omega, but the child had a confident look in her eyes. Sarah felt a grim sense of foreboding flooding her body, its eerie cold spreading slowly through her marks.As much as Sarah had learned to trust Omega and her instincts, she couldn't find it in herself to feel at ease with the stakes being raised that drastically.

"But if we win, we leave here with Cid," Omega finished.

Millegi raised a brow. "You don't want money?"

Omega lightly shook her head. "We want our friend, and our freedom."

Millegi paused to ponder for a moment, but eventually, he nodded. "You got yourselves a deal. But for the night, we're keeping Cid as collateral. You understand - we have to make sure we're not sweet talked just to be fooled afterwards."

"Standard procedure, I suppose?" Tech inquired.

"Sure," Millegi agreed, and he gestured towards Cid to have her follow him and his crew.

Before Cid left, she took one last look at Sarah. Sarah gave a nod, appearing as confident as she could, but at the moment, Sarah wasn't sure how much that was. She then watched as Cid walked away with all the others, and when they were out of sight, Omega walked up next to Sarah, slightly hunched over her shoulders.

"Are you mad at me?" Omega asked her.

Sarah instantly looked at Omega, her facial features softening as she knelt down to be at Omega's height. "Darling, no."

"I know we're risking a lot," Omega said. "But I didn't want to leave Cid."

"And no one's holding that against you," Sarah said. "Yes, the deal is a little more risky than I would have made it, but you bought us time, and you bought us hope." Sarah then looked over at Wrecker and Tech as they held Tay-0's chassis, nodding briefly at them.

"We'll make do with what we have," Sarah finished.

"Yeah, we always do," Wrecker reassured.

"I will get to work on Tay-0 immediately," Tech said. "Wrecker, if you could bring the speeder into the shop, you'd be helping volumes."

"On it."

Cid

The night life outside was at its peak. Sitting on the couch and overlooking the elongated glass window before her, Cid could see the entire lowly festival that bloomed in the streets of Safa Toma. Laughter and racket could be heard coming from outside as the sun went down, and though those clones had proven to be resourceful before even in the worst of times, Cid couldn't shake the feeling she'd been pushed into a corner. She didn't have the credits to pay Millegi double - Tiny was adorable, but sometimes her bright ideas proved costly - and at that point, even Cid herself couldn't keep up blind hope that the heap of metal she'd chosen as her runner would succeed. It was up to Goggles to fix the droid, which Cid didn't doubt he could finish.

Winning the race was the problem.

Maybe if she sweet-talked Millegi into giving her some time after the loss to go and get the credits, Cid could head over to Ord Mantell and get some out of the reserves she had for herself and for the Batch. But wherever extra time was involved, so was collateral, and Cid couldn't stay as that and go to Ord Mantell for the credits. She also wasn't gonna ask one of the boys to go and empty the cases for her. The only one who Cid might have felt confident enough to ask for such a thing to was Strider, but Cid knew she wasn't gonna like the idea either.

Only a part of Cid felt guilty screwing over the batch, but it was either that or having Millegi come after them mercilessly, and that was assuming he even let them get off the planet, or that they were somehow able to get off planet without him noticing, which would open a whole other lot of gruesome possibilities waiting for each of the mercenaries.

"You look troubled," Millegi interrupted Cid's train of thought as he poured a glass of bourbon. "Ease up. Drink. Your loss will come until tomorrow anyway. For now, enjoy."

"I'd rather not," Cid dismissed.

"This is the most tense I've seen you since the last time you didn't have enough money to pay me," Millegi teased after downing his drink. "Surely that's not the case now, is it? 'Cause if it is, how are you gonna get out of that one?"

"You're gettin' ideas all up in your head," Cid challenged. "I won't lose."

"You're smarter than that," Millegi poured himself another glass and went to sit on the couch next to Cid. "You've said yourself, a blind confidence makes a dead fool. You'd be stupid not to consider all possibilities."

The feeling of being cornered returned to Cid.

"Better think fast," Millegi took a sip out of his drink, his tone friendly, even if the words were menacing.

With crossed arms and her body turned away from Millegi, Cid looked over her shoulder at him. "Whattaya mean, think fast? I'll get ya the money if it comes down to it."

"You'd be ruined after the wager the runt of your crew made," Millegi chuckled. "Double payment in exchange for you. It's so noble it almost has you believing you wouldn't turn your backs on each one of them in a second."

"I might surprise you," Cid crooned.

"No," Millegi said. "On the contrary, you're gonna pull a dirty stunt on them, and it'll be exactly what anyone expects."

"I've changed, Millegi."

"So you won't listen to my counteroffer?" Millegi prompted. "It'll be much easier than getting me all that money."

Cid angled her figure towards Millegi, intrigued.

"Adhara," Millegi finally stated.

"Strider?" Cid frowned. "What about 'er?"

"If your racer loses, you hand her over," Millegi proposed.

Cid's features crinkled in a grimace, but she didn't turn away from Millegi, nor did she dismiss his offer. She kept silent, and her eyes idly found different corners of the room as she examined the recently-raised stakes.

"Not a single ingot would wind up in my pocket," Millegi continued. "If you lose, give me Adhara and you're off the hook."

"Why do you even want her?" Cid asked.

"Have you seen the skillset she carries?" Millegi chuckled. "That woman is the deadly combination of a sorceress and a soldier, with enough of a gut to make it in this world. Ohnaka was a fool for letting her go."

Cid considered her options. She could blow a stream of hot air with reasons why Strider would never go with him, tell him she'd throw him off the nearest ledge using nothing but her hand and all his henchmen would follow, threaten with those two clones never being willing to let her go without a fight, convince Millegi he didn't know what he was getting into.

But Cid still didn't have the money, and if agreeing to the new terms would mean ending the conversation as well as not worrying about credits in either outcome, it became the safest of all options. It was a no-brainer. And with that, Cid made eye contact with Millegi, and she nodded.

"Deal," Cid concluded.

With a dark laugh, Millegi handed the spare glass of bourbon to Cid and sealed the offer. Cid took a sip of the bourbon and exhaled deeply as she forced away any remorse at the deal she'd just made.

Tay-0 was just gonna have to win.

Sarah

When the sun was out, Sarah found herself on the same chair she'd fallen asleep on in the middle of the trackside workshop with a makeshift blanket draped over her. She stood up and ignored the faint ache that plagued her neck, although she did resolve not to fall asleep on a chair again anytime soon. Instead of pondering on it, Sarah left the blanket over the chair and made her way towards the sunlight, and she took a deep breath in as she observed the scenery of the riot racing dome in front of her, its bleachers already filled with enthusiastic watchers and wagers.

That was one more thing amongst the many she hadn't thought she'd do since the war ended, but it wasn't the worst by any means.

Her gaze scanned the area and eventually found Wrecker and Omega overlooking the track with what appeared to be sticks of fried street food clenched in their hands, a breakfast worthy of the place they were in. When Sarah remembered the weight of their current situation, she lost all physical need to eat, and it was replaced by the plain longing for everything to be over. She'd learned not to be overly optimistic about anything a long time before that.

But the race was going to happen whether she wanted or not, and the moment she acknowledged that was also the moment her gaze landed on Tech in the distance. Also overlooking the racing track, his back was turned on her and he seemed to be holding his datapad in hand, and Sarah would have been far more pleased at the sight had it not been for Tay-0 hovering over Tech the entire time. Sarah could hear Tay-0 talking, unable to make out what exactly he was saying, though it wasn't necessary to. His circuits got to every last nerve of hers whether Tay-0 was near or far.

Sarah chuckled at a thought. With Tay-0 being so vocal that close to the start of his race, it was evident that Tech had fixed him up well. She never doubted Tech, of course. Tech could do anything, for better or for worse.

Sarah's mind pondered on Tech until the entire racing dome seemed to vanish around her, but her attention was robustly brought back to reality the moment a speeder flew past her eyesight, blocking her view of Tech for a split second only for her to realize that the vehicle had taken Tay-0 alongside it. The next thing she noticed was Tech beholding the crash site, astonished, and then he ran towards the scene of disaster where the racer walked out of his crashed vehicle without a scratch.

Tay-0 hadn't been as lucky.

Sarah, Wrecker, and Omega all ran after Tech towards the crash-site, and none of them were optimistic. It was Wrecker who reached into the ruined speeder and pulled Tay-0's limp chassis out, and they could all instantly realize this hit hadn't been like the one he'd suffered in his previous race. There was no light in Tay-0's specs, not even a flicker, and smoke was emerging from the inside of his head. The last sounds of his modulated voice could be heard as a drag of sound lowering in pitch, signaling the poor droid's futile end.

"What happened!?" Cid called as she approached the site.

But the others were still speechless and exchanging looks, as though doing that - or not doing something about what had just happened - would change the fact that they'd just lost their pilot. Cid finally caught up to them and reached towards Tay-0, and as she did, electricity crackled from the inside of Tay-0's metallic remains, which darkened the smoke that was already emerging from him. And, as if it wasn't bad enough already, the bewildered silence that clouded Sarah and the others was broken abruptly by a thunderous, mocking laughter.

"Looks like a forfeit," Millegi announced himself as he and his crew approached their opposing team.

His presence managed to put Sarah, Tech, and Wrecker on guard, while Cid walked up between the two teams holding her hands out.

"Now, now, this ain't a forfeit," Cid tried to persuade.

"You have no racer," Millegi gestured at Tay-0, limp and broken in Wrecker's grip. "No racer, no race, no victory. Those are the rules, and you know that better than anyone."

Cid's features hardened, and she didn't budge. The gesture of defiance riled Millegi, and suddenly he seemed to become taller as he glared down at Cid.

"I'm waiting for you to hold up your end of the deal," Millegi threatened.

"No," Sarah walked forward and positioned herself next to Cid. "Our deal stipulated a result after the race, not before it. We still have a right to run the race."

"That loophole never worked on me," Millegi told her. "Your buddy Cid here learned that the hard way. I'm surprised she was stupid enough to put her foot in her own grave a second time."

"Hey, there's no need for language like that," Sarah tried to moderate, but he was admittedly getting on her nerves. "We'll find a racer, we'll win, and then you'll let us be on our way."

Millegi chuckled. "You still have a lot to learn despite your reputation, little girl. You may as well just dump Cid now and make a better name for yourself, all of you," he gestured at the others behind her.

"Our loyalty is our business," Sarah replied.

“And where is your loyalty coming from?” Millegi turned to Sarah with a devious smile. “Even if I let Cid run free, you’re not going back to Ord Mantell, pretty girl.”

“What?” Sarah’s frown eased into concern.

“You’re coming with me,” Millegi looked her up and down. “Didn’t Cid tell you she offered you up instead of the money?”

Laughter emerged from Millegi’s henchmen, and Cid saw herself scrutinized by the batchers’ pairs of eyes. Omega looked at her in disbelief, Wrecker looked angry as he began stepping in front of Sarah, and Tech looked at Cid with disappointment.

Sarah’s gaze held sheer wrath.

“What the hell is he talking about?” Sarah pierced into Cid’s gaze.

“I knew what I was doin’!” Cid tried to persuade. “I knew Tay-0 was gonna win, I’d never make an offer to hurt ya, Strider.”

“Enough talk,” Millegi said, and one of his henchmen paced towards Sarah.

But Sarah intended to blast her way out of that one if that’s what it took, and she quickly unholstered her hand blaster, pointing it at the Gamorrean guard, and everyone around them pulled their weapons out in unison.

“Easy,” Millegi held his hands out, gesturing to his men to lower their weapons. “A deal is a deal, and as a former pirate, you should know it’s about the business. Your racer is down, and you cannot race, therefore you forfeit and the wage’s in our favor.”

“Oh, we are running that race,” Sarah nearly yelled. “I’m not going to give myself up just like that, you’d better be sure I’m—”

“I will be the racer,” Tech interrupted.

Sarah lowered her blaster as she turned to look at Tech, her nebulous eyes raided with fear and confusion.

“Well, this is interesting,” Millegi crooned.

“No way,” Sarah walked up to Tech. “No, I’m the one being offered, I’m—”

Tech looked directly at Millegi. “I will race.”

“Done,” Millegi accepted the wager.

Millegi left, followed by Cid and his henchmen, and Tech wasted no more time before the race. He directed himself towards the speeder, and once the confusion wore off, Wrecker went over to help him take it to the starting line. As much as Omega attempted to calm Sarah down, the latter felt she was incapable of such a thing. What the hell was Cid thinking, and why the hell would Tech make such a rash, uncalculated decision?!

Sarah ran after Tech when he was readying himself to get into the speeder, leaving Wrecker to look after Omega. Sarah ran as fast as she could, not giving a damn about the personnel repeating to her that she wasn’t allowed near the racers.

“Tech!” She yelled during those final steps, and when she reached him, Sarah clung to his forearm with desperation. “Tech, how could you do this to me?!”

“I am getting you out of harm’s way,” Tech faced Sarah, stern, yet comprehensive.

“By putting yourself in the line of fire!” Sarah was near crying. “Tech, this is my problem, my race to run!”

“I have analyzed the course and the mechanics of the sport,” Tech said. “You, on the other hand, are not thinking straight. Finding out that Cid would bring you into the wager is a shock, and thus, you are in no condition to race.”

“I can’t let you do this,” Sarah’s voice quivered as she made her last attempts to hold back tears.

“You have trusted me on dangerous endeavors before, and I have emerged victorious,” Tech said. “By my calculations and analyses, this will be the case again. I have the correct strategy.”

“Tech—”

“This is the best way, Sarah—”

“I can’t lose you!”” Sarah finally cried, thundering across the entire starting line. “I… I lost Crosshair… I can’t lose you too, Tech.”

Upon noticing her distress, Tech set his helmet down on the ground next to him and when he faced her again, he took his goggles off and looked at Sarah with his own eyes. And when he did, Sarah stopped crying—it was almost as if she’d stopped breathing for a moment, and without blinking, Sarah stared into Tech’s eyes in awe.

“You have beautiful eyes,” she whispered.

Tech paced closer to her and gently brushed the back of her palm with his gloved fingers.

“Trust me,” Tech began. “You will not lose me. Not today, not ever. For all purposes, Sarah Adhara, I am yours, and I have now chosen the duty of making sure you do not end up in Millegi’s hands. And I will not fail.”

Sarah sniffled as a wave of emotions coursed through her. Feeling both hot and cold on her marks from the confession she’d just heard Tech speak, as well as the fear of him not making it out of the race, she felt she would break if she didn’t do anything at the moment. Without thinking of it any further, Sarah cupped Tech’s face with her hands and perked herself up on her toes, and she pressed her lips to his. The way she pressed herself towards him seemed desperate, but the way her breath slowed down as she was with him spoke of true adoration and gratitude, and when she parted from the kiss, her eyes had pooled with tears again.

“Come back to me,” Sarah uttered.

Tech gave her a hint of a smile as he replaced his goggles over his eyes. “Do not doubt.”

“Racers, to your speeders!”

At the final announcement, Sarah knew it was time for her to let Tech do what he did best. She returned to the sidelines next to Wrecker and Omega, who each held onto one of Sarah’s shoulders as the racers’ names were being called, partly out of comfort, but mostly out of mutual nervousness. The danger of Tech’s current situation didn’t escape them either.

But the moment the starting bell blared, Tech seemed like a natural, at least, that was until he fell into the last place among the racers. The pronounced curves of the track and the high speed weren’t his problem, as he was a fantastic pilot, but none of that would matter if he lost.

Sarah became filled with dread, and her mind began to wander with the possibilities of what would happen. She would set fire to the racing dome herself if it guaranteed her and her family’s freedom—perhaps if everything went wrong, she could finally find an excuse to hide in a remote planet, or declare war on Millegi and his gang, as well as Cid. The dread returned to Sarah as she remembered she was capable of offering her.

But then, Sarah felt a warmth scattering itself over the blue of her marks. Her familiar hunches were never wrong, and at that moment, she could hear what the Force was telling her to trust in, and her instincts all pointed in the same direction. Tech was the best pilot down there, and he was the smartest, too, far more capable than any machine programmed by a mind inferior to his, and far more reckless than the racers from the low worlds.

Trust.

“He’s climbing!” Omega cheered as the screens projecting the race around the dome showed Tech’s speeder passing one racer after another.

The final lap was upon them, and he was already in third place, but that also attracted the attention of Jet Venim, who didn’t intend to go easy on Tech. The tunnels were approaching for the last time in the race, and through the comms, Tech announced his intent to cross the left tunnel, the one revered as a death trap.

And though none of the stunts were easy to watch, Tech was successful in all of them, just as Sarah’s instincts had told her. Finally, Tech was at the last leg of the race, and this was it. The three speeders in the lead were close together, two of them very clearly harassing Tech’s vehicle, and at times it really seemed Tech would end up in a crash and a subsequent loss. In the last tunnel, it became difficult to keep track of the speeders given how close they were, and emerging from the tunnel, everything seemed to collapse. Blasts were fired, metal could be heard crashing, and a large cloud of dust hid the speeders from view at the very moment when the tension was at such a high point that the dome fell silent in expectation.

From the cloud of dust, the small blue speeder sped through the finish line, and the announcer called Tech’s name, declaring him the winner.

Sarah let out a scream that blended surprise, relief, and admiration, and alongside her, Wrecker and Omega cheered like they hadn’t done in far too long. Around them, the crowd gathered in the racing dome went wild, with their cheers albeit carrying surprise, but an undeniable satisfaction at the result of the race they’d just witnessed.

Sarah ran down to the track with Wrecker and Omega following closely after her. As Tech got down from the speeder and removed his helmet, he seemed as neutral as he always was about anything, and it didn’t seem like he cared if there was an entire crowd around him chanting his name. His expression only shifted to astonishment when Sarah threw her arms around him and leapt into his arms, causing Tech to spin as he held her, feeling her fingertips tracing soft patterns around the back of his head.

“You did it!” Sarah panted as relief and adoration finally showered upon her. Tech had single handedly pulled her and the rest of the squad out of any trouble. He’d made sure she would be safe, that she would return home without anyone following her. He had raced for her, and he’d succeeded.

“Yes,” Tech answered matter-of-factly. “I told you I would.”

Sarah chuckled, and she didn’t undo the embrace even as Wrecker and Omega caught up to them. Despite not reveling in his own success even when his siblings brought it up, Tech then looked up at the racing dome filled with his newly acquired fans, all of them chanting and repeating his name in unison, their hands flailing in the air as they celebrated his victory.

Tech watched them and approached the scene with the same curiosity with which he approached anything that was new to him, and with one hand still holding Sarah’s silhouette to his side, the other one went up to his temple, and he offered the crowd a brief salute that made the cheering thunder around them.

Sarah grinned at the sight of him acknowledging his crowd, and the way his lips curved softly into a tiny smile didn’t escape her. She felt like she could have kissed him again, but she let him enjoy his glory undistracted for a few more moments.

He truly deserved that.

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#the moonwalker series #moonstrider writes #oc sarah adhara #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #clone force 99 #tbb tech fanfic #tbb tech fanfiction

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bakugo-dee · 2 years ago

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WTF

Bakugo x Kirishima x Reader (female)

Warning: Some cursing

“What do you mean I am being benched?” you yelled at the Commissioner as you paced around the room. “I am the top Hero here, Tsukauchi! Why the heck would you do this to me? Besides, you know you need me for the next mission!?” “We received intel on current situations that threaten your safety. It seems that you are being targeted by the League of Villains (LV) and your recent run-in with Dabi has all agencies on high alert.” Tsukauchi sat behind his desk rubbing his temples as if trying to relieve a headache. “OH?! (you exclaimed, stopping in your tracks) All agencies huh?” “Yes. All agencies.” You crossed your arms and gave him a side glance “So…which one gave you the intel?” “Dynamight’s.” “Dynamight?!” you slammed your hands on his desk “Y…yes.” You knew better than to be taking your frustration out on the man in front of you. This turn of events wasn’t his doing after all. He was just following protocol. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration and softly sighed “I see.” You turned to exit the Commissioner’s office “(Y/H/N)…wh…where are you going? This is only temporary. At least until we can figure out why the League is after you.” “You already know why. And don’t worry, I’ll be back. Right after I set HIS ass on FIRE!!!!” With a confused look on his face, Tsukauchi watched as you let the door slam behind you “His ass? She doesn’t mean Dynamight’s…does she?”

No one at Hero Public Safety Commision (HPSC) knew of your current relationship with the #2 Hero Dynamight and the #8 Hero Red Riot. Due to your line of work, it was safer this way. Heck, other than Naomasa Tsukauchi, who had recently been elected President of the HPSC, no one even knew your true identity. The saddest part out of all this secrecy was that not even your own boyfriends knew just how powerful you were.

Your telekinesis quirk had manifested at an early age and it quickly caught the attention of the HPSC. Your quirk not only allowed you to move objects, but you could also manipulate matter at will. Your limitation was your own imagination. The HPSC approached your family with an offer to have you trained as a member of an elite group of heroes but you would need to keep your abilities a secret. You were allowed to attend UA as part of the General Studies course and that’s where you met the boys.

“UGH! DAMN YOU KATSUKI! Why the heck aren’t you answering your phone?” You threw your cell phone over to the passenger seat of your SUV. All your calls kept going to voicemail and he wasn’t reading any of your text messages. The staff at his agency wouldn’t tell you where he was, only that he wasn’t available. This of course was standard procedure. They don’t know your Dynamight’s girlfriend and as far as they’re concerned you could be a villain plotting to attack the #2 Hero.

Your heart was racing with anger as you pulled up to the front gate and saw thier cars parked in the driveway. Trying to keep your calm, you think back to the day on the lake when the three of you confessed your feelings for each other. How the heck do 3 best friends fall in love with one another. The thought still baffled you but the past year had been so amazing and now here you were sharing a home with them. Even though you had some reservation at first. Things had been going great up until 2 weeks ago when you were approached by the notorious villain, Dabi.

Your undercover job at the Hero Commission was working in the PR Department. You were at a mall signing with some sidekicks and that’s where Dabi saw you. He was scoping the scene to gain intel for the LV and took a liking to you. He had no clue who you were, much less that you were a Secret Agent for the HPSC or in a relationship with the #2 and #8 Heroes. He managed to corner you behind the stage and struck up a conversation. Before you knew it he was trying to recruit you into the League of Villains and then tried kidnapping you when you refused. After a brief scuffle which led to a fight between him and the present Heroes, he escaped and you managed to walk away with only a few minor burns. However, the whole ordeal freaked out your overprotective boyfriends and for the past few weeks they have been pushing you to quit your job and stay home where they could keep you safe. Their lack of faith in your abilities has made you bitter towards them but then how could you blame them, they don’t know what you’re capable of.

You rush into the house and are quickly greeted by Kirishima hugging you. “Hey baby! You’re home early. Wha…what are you wearing?” In your rush to get home to confront Katsuki you forgot to change out of your hero costume. “Ummm…Nevermind that…where is HE?!?!” “Bakugo?” “YES! Bakugo! Where the HELL is he?!” “Baby are you ok? You seem a little agitated.” “OH! I seem a little agitated. I am way passed agitated! Where the FUCK is he RED?!” “Ummm…baby??” You push a stunned Kirishima aside and head to the outdoor training facility. He chased after you, but to his surprise you were so much faster than him. At this point you are so angry that you are no longer in control of your quirk and flames start to spread all over your body.

You smash the doors to the training facility “BAKUGO KATSUKI!!!!” You have now unleashed the full power of your quirk and are flying high engulfed in flames. Bakugo is staring at you in horror and disbelief. “Princess??? You…you…can fly? What the CRAP!?” You start shooting flames and hurling nearby objects at him simultaneously. “Baby Girl? What the…? Stop…you idiot.” He tries to dodge your attacks but one after another you land them all. You manage to pin him under a boulder, knocking him unconscious. “(Y/N)!!!!” Kirishima finally runs in “STOP!!!! What are you doing? You’re going to kill him!” and with those words you look down to where Katsuki is lying. The shock of what you have just done over takes you and you collapse to the ground in tears. “Katsuki? I…I…I’m sorry.” You lift the boulder off of him as Kirishima rushes to his side.

“Is…is he ok?” “He’s unconscious. We need to get him to the hospital. He might have head trauma.” “What?” “Com’on.” Kirishima lifts him up in one swoop and the two of you rush to the car. You climb in the back seat of the truck and Kiri places Bakugo in your lab. “Katsuki…babe…I am so sorry. Please be ok. I didn’t mean to…” You say softly as your tears fall onto his face. “Baby…please…I am sorry. Please…I was just so angry.” “(Y/N), what the hell is going on? What was that? I’ve never seen you display that type of power before. Where did that come from?” “This is my power.” you reply with a heavy sigh and tears streaming down your face. “What?” “Kiri…please just get us to the hospital. I’ll explain everything later.” “Ok baby but…um…I am not going to lie…uh…I am pretty terrified of you right now.” “I’m pretty terrified of myself too. (you look down at Katsuki) Baby…can you hear me?” He opens his eyes slightly “Princess…you dumbass…what the heck was that?” “OH BABY! Shhhhh…don’t talk. We are taking you to the hospital. I am sooooo sorry.”

Once at the hospital, Bakugo is quickly taken in to see a healer. You and Kirishima are sitting across from each other in the waiting room. Normally he would be all over you in situations like this but after what he just witnessed, he’s been keeping his distance and you don’t blame him. Your phone rings “Hey. I am at the hospital. Can you come meet me here? Great. Thanks.” “Who was that?” “The Commissioner.” “What? Why is he calling you?” You don’t respond to Kirishima’s questions. The nurse walks in “He has been asking for you both. You can go in and see him now.” You walk in silence to his room. Kirishima walks in first. “Katsuki! Are you ok babe?” “Yeah…shity hair…I am fine. Where is (y/n)?” You step out from behind Kirishima. “Hey.” “Hey? Is that all you have to say to me?” He is angry but not as angry as you expect. “What the FUCK was that? Since when do you have that kind of power?” “I was angry at you. You had me benched.” “What? What do you mean I had you benched?” “Your agency. They called the HPSC and had me benched.” “Princess…you’re going to need to do some more explaining than that because I don’t have a fucking clue as to what you're talking about Dumbass and what the HECK are you wearing!” Just then, Naomasa Tsukauchi walks in. “(Y/H/N)?” “It’s ok, Tsukauchi. You can call me by my real name here.” Bakugo and Kirishima are both staring at you in confusion. “Um (y/n)…why is the Commissioner here and why did he just call you (Y/H/N)?” “Because that’s my Hero name.” Bakugo and Kirishima are both staring at you with a look of confusion “WHAT THE FUCK?!!!”

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #mha smut #female #bakugo x kirishima x reader (female)

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zephyr-rat · 2 months ago

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Green Giant Saga Canon and Arcane

With Arcane and the story of Piltover-Zaun done, I will announce that The Green Giant Saga, my fanfic series for the League champions Twitch and Zac, will not follow the League of Legends Arcane canon. (Though I'm sure they'll retcon it in the next 5 years or so, knowing Riot's track record)

I go in more detail here, but in general, I disagree with how much more fantastical Piltover-Zaun became with a significant downgrade in focus on technology and its impact with society and class division. With what happens at the end of the show, it's hard to envision the world I had in store with Green Giant Saga, and I don't want to force myself to write stories between events in the show.

As such, I will try to make my own canon with the League of Legends characters. I won't follow strictly with old lore or 2016 piltover-zaun rework lore or Arcane lore, I will try to pick and choose depending on my story needs. I might even add some new aspects to it as well. It might lead to the series being a massive turn-off to a lot of fans, but at least I'm providing my rat and blob actual stories.

Here are the general aspects of my canon

Setting: It will be a mix of the 2016 update and the Arcane canon: focusing on the city above and the city below to highlight themes of exploitation and class conflict.

ZAC: Will be directly inspired by original old lore with his desire to be a hero and un-fridged parents with only a few aspects of 2016 like Chem Baron Takeda or his very empathetic nature

Twitch: Absolutely my own thing. Though his motivation is directly inspired by his original old lore of wanting to recreate his sentience.

Warwick: Will be mainly from the 2016 update with inspirations from Arcane with being part of a revolution

Viktor: Mainly inspired from his original old lore since it makes more sense with the themes of my story

The Chirean (The bat people): My own thing as a displaced group of people in Zaun's ecosystem

Yordles: Will be from Arcane canon in which they're just a normal race that lives longer than humans (I am not making them immortal though). No yordles disguising as humans to hide from yordle racism (Yes this was a thing)

Firelights: Will take inspiration from Arcane as a protest group

I won't go through every champion (because that will make me go crazy and Riot can't even do that job correctly), but this is what I'm leaning towards.

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If you want to read more of Zac and Twitch’s adventures in Zaun. Check out the entire saga!

Ao3 Series

Main Tumblr Page

#league of legends #twitch #plague #rat #zac #green giant saga #the secret weapon #the plague rat #ao3 fanfic #my canon #arcane lol #arcane

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nrdmssgs · 6 months ago

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Seven Devils: the wolf

AN: So @sofasoap and @siilvan nudged @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot to make a little fantasy AU for our original characters, Lastochkas. I also had some ideas, so here is my little story about how my Zhar Ol`kha met Riot Calliara. This is not a straight transition of our CallOfDuty Ocs into some fantasy world. I just took their archetypes and placed them into a new world. TWs: none. Characters: Ol`kha the beast tamer (you may know her as Olga Zhar Samoilova), Calliara the ranger (Christine Riot Vega may ring a bell), and Sebastian the goat (Krueger)

Walking in the night felt easier: no avoiding hunters, no hiding from a too warm midsummer sun, no breathing in the trail dust. Big paws silently hit a ground, bounced easily from soft greenery and carried her forward. Wind brought her distant night voices: lonely night bird cries, nocturnal beasts hisses, travelers horses snorting, last cracks of logs dying in campfires. This late hour was her time: a massive shadow, surging forward with a ghost-like softness, someone's death embodied in a beastly figure of a direwolf.

She wasn't hungry, but when a barely perceptible smell of baked goods reached her nose - Calliara stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes glinted like molten gold in the dim moonlight, scanning the surroundings with a predatory focus. The wolf and the elf didn't always have exactly the same culinary tastes, but when it came to something sweet, puffy and freshly-baked? These were the times when both halves of Calliara's heart bet in unison. The decision was made quickly: she changed the direction of where she was moving to with one jump.

The direwolf's coat, a thick pelt of shadowy grays and silvers, blended seamlessly with the night, making her a phantom among the trees coming closer to a little fire and a tent before it. The heavenly scent of sweet buns was mixing with so many new smells now: a cozy aroma of dried herbs and hay, a light note of soap, something almost milky, and... a pungent odor of a buckthorn. Calliara froze and wrinkled her grey nose, silently revealing a row of shiny teeth.

Who could smell so nicely and bring this nasty stuff to a campfire? What an idiot would ruin a beautiful symphony of aromas with burning a whole bouquet of oily leaves?

She silently approached the tent and sighed: of course it was a tiefling. Calliara wasn't susceptible to the village tales that tieflings and demons were one and the same. But she knew well enough, the habits of this species can be exotic to say the least. They could enjoy their food so spicy - any other race except dragonborns would choke, they longed for warmth even on the hottest day, it only made sense, one of them found comfort in this stench. The stranger lied on the ground before the tent. Her bare feet were so close to the fire - its flames almost licked her fingers. Twisted horns peeked out from a shock of dark hair, and a pale tail slightly trembled over her curled posture. Calliara sniffed woman's face and turned back to the fire - it seemed, that all the bad smell came from it and not from the stranger. The direwolf growled in displeasure and accidentally inhaled the smoke that the wind directed straight into her face.

Heavy stinking air filled her lungs, her throat constricted by a merciless spasm. She shook her head, clenched her teeth and instinctively took a step back. Only then did she realize why the stranger had thrown some fresh buckthorn branches into the fire. It's scent was barely perceptible to humanoids, but for other creatures the pungent stench was almost unbearable.

The she-wolf coughed stifledly despite all her efforts to remain quiet. And then a second realization came to her. The stranger had a reason for sleeping so close to the fire. Opening her eyes, she grabbed a flaming firebrand with one smooth and incredibly fast movement and waved it centimeters in front of Calliara's muzzle.

A primal fear bared her fangs, awakening a thunderous roar that burst from her mouth with a stream of hot steam. Muscles rippled beneath the direwolfs skin as she jumped back and bent down to the ground, raising the fur on the back of her neck.

The tiefling took a defensive stance, bending her knees springily, preparing to jump. The firebrand in her hand was burning more intense with every next second, but flames coiling in hot rings around her wrist didn't seem to bother her at all. The last traces of a peaceful dream left her face as she spoke.

"Want to test, what is faster: a wolf or fire catching in its fur?"

The animal made a sound that vaguely resembled a human chuckle. The stranger should have screamed and run from a big bad wolf, yet here she was - daring the forest beast, that could easily end her. Calliara had a soft spot for a good dare, so she accepted the challenge. She heard the tieflings heart pounding like a war drum, felt how the strangers fingers started to tremble under a low grumbling growl, that reverberated through the ground. They both braced themselves, and for a moment, time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to the space between them.

The she-wolf jumped forward so easily as if her body didn't weigh anything. Instead of attacking, the beast arced over the tieflings head, in a blur of motion. The stranger spun, eyes wide, as the creature landed gracefully behind her, barely disturbing the underbrush.

"You are... playing?" The woman's voice was low and rich with undertones. Even with a worried intonation, she sounded calming to Calliara.

The direwolf grinned contentedly, not taking her eyes off the tiefling. But before the woman could react, the beast bounded into the forest, disappearing into the embrace of the shadows. The chance meeting turned into a victory and Calliara was satisfied, forgetting about the enticing smell of baked goods that led her to the stranger.

***

The morning light filtered through the dense forest canopy and casted intricate patterns on the milky white skin. A forest lake draped with a thin layer of mist shimmered like a liquid sapphire. Little droplets rolled down her chest, as Calliara breathed in scents of pine and wildflowers. Stands of long white hair cascaded over soft shoulders, floated around her body.

Although she was never here before - this place felt like home. She was at peace there. She was safe until she heard a familiar voice in a rather concerning proximity.

"There is a direwolf prowling around. Watch your back, fine lady."

"This fine lady is more a threat than a meal." The elf answered and turned to the shore and met the gaze of the night stranger leaning against a tree. "And she has reflexes sharper than a fine hunter."

The tiefling scanned her for a few minutes, not shying away, but then a fine mesh of wrinkles gathered around the corners of her eyes and her mouth stretched into a smile.

"They call me Ol`kha. I'm not a hunter." She extended her hand to the elf.

"Calliara. And they don't usually call me a fine lady." The elf chuckled and took tieflings hand, getting out of the water.

Usually she needed more time to relax in a presence of anyone new, but Ol`kha radiated a calm authority - the one, that said "you're safe around me" to any wild heart. During the breakfast they shared, the elf learned that her new acquaintance was a beast tamer.

"Not a beast slayer - a beast tamer: I take them alive, and it's my job to bring them from the wilderness alive and well," stressed, tiefling, breaking a sweet bun and giving her a half.

The elf shyly accepted the treat and hurried to bombard her acquaintance with questions, distracting her from the blush that played on Calliaras cheeks.

High elves had a saying about those like Ol`kha - 'this one knows its ways around the wild as a leaf knows its ways in the wind'. That meant, that even those, not bound to nature as strongly as elves, animals or druids, could sometimes merge their lives with the ways of elder forests.

Calliara didn't even notice how easily she offered to walk part of the path together, since they were heading in the same direction. She unconsciously reached out to the tiefling, watching in fascination the smooth movements of Ol`kha, the play of light on her twisted horns, the freckles appearing on her fair skin.

Tieflings attire seemed practical and well-suited for her journey—a blend of leather and cloth that allowed her to move with agility and comfort. At her side hung a variety of tools, some recognizable like a coiled whip and a curved khopesh, others more mysterious, their purposes known only to those skilled in the art of beast taming.

Callaiara couldn't help but notice how the beasts of the forest, sensing the tamer's presence, peered cautiously from their hiding places. As if they knew her scent, her voice, the gentle touch she could offer as well as the firm hand she wielded when needed. Ol`kha was a bridge between the worlds of man and beast. A bridge, Calliara desperately needed.

Walking their path together turned out much easier than doing so alone. Even a wheelbarrow, Ol`kha pushed before her all the way, didn't slow them down. The elf suggested to help her a few times, but got rejected.

While settling down for the night, Calliara couldn't resist asking what her friend had been carrying with her all this time. The tiefling approached the wheelbarrow and pulled back the dark cloth, revealing to the elf's gaze a whole bunch of dry leaves of the ash tree, sacred to the local elves.

"So you carry leaves to elves who cannot make pilgrimages to worship the sacred groves themselves?" Calliara wasn't too sentimental about local elven customs, but still appreciated the fact that this woman got so much compassion for them.

“M-hm, in a way…” Ol`khas voice grew distant and cold, as she covered the leaves and began to filling her elegant long clay pipe with tobacco.

The elf quickly changed the subject and until late at night they talked about their travels, the past and plans for the future. Ol`kha did not hide anything except perhaps the final goal of her journey. But Calliara knew firsthand how difficult it can be to share something secret, so she did not insist.

From the first day together, without much discussion, they developed a routine that suited them both. One cooked, the other cleaned, one set up the tent, the other found wood for a fireplace, one filled their camp with the sweet, spicy smoke of pipe tobacco, while the other sang old elven songs. Ol`kha didn't ask the elf, where she was disappearing every night and she in return never asked the tiefling, why did she set up a tent every night, yet slept on a ground before it.

One morning, Calliara gathered their canteens and bottles to fill them in a nearby stream, but her friend stopped her.

“In your place, I wouldn't touch that,” she was pointing at one of the bottles, the elf was carrying. The bottle was half full with some cloudy liquid with an unappetizing coating. In response to the question frozen in elven blue eyes, the tiefling added, “These lands are crawling with scrabblers. Literally: these blind giants with stone skin and enormous jaws nest in underground caves and have dug passages all over the area. What these beasts lack in sight, they compensate for with incredible hearing and smell. Spill a few drops of something that irritates them... like a few drops of sour firewine, and the ground you're standing on will turn into living waves, burying everything beneath them.” “And this,” Calliara rose the bottle, “is half a bottle of said wine? That you brought here, knowing well what it might cause?” “Exactly,” said Ol`kha and her lips curved into a satisfied smile.

***

In three days they were standing at the edge of dense forest, that didn't dare to absorb a little village of half elves. The village itself was nestled among the remains of ancient elven ruins, its wooden structures a stark contrast to the elegant, vine-covered arches and weathered stonework that peeked out from beneath the earth.

Ol`kha glanced at the flimsy village gates and turned back to Calliara.

“This, my friend, is where our paths part. Ugly things are about to unravell here, and I will appreciate it if you don't witness them.” The tiefling smiled awkwardly and started securing a torch to the edge of her wheelbarrow.

Calliara always had problems with authority. Specifically asking her to not do something was the easiest way to make her do exactly that with all the passion she could possibly master. Unfortunately for her, Ol`kha knew nothing of this, so they spent several long minutes arguing. The elf refused to abandon her friend in her hour of need, and the tiefling came up with excuse after excuse to send Calliara as far away from the village as possible. In the end, they came to a compromise: Ol`kha would go to the gate alone, and Calliara would make sure that her friend entered the settlement safely, without leaving the dense undergrowth.

Calliaras vision was sharp enough to notice the confusion in the eyes of the gate guards growing with every step the tiefling took. They didn't dare to rise their weapons even when OL`kha stopped right before them and barked “let me in” in an irritated voice. Nobody moved or answered her, and Calliara sighed with relief, loosening his grip on the tight bend of her bow.

“I said, let me in now!” The tiefling's voice took on a dark, muffled tone.

“Go away, Ol`kha! We don't want you here!” A wrinkled face framed by silver braids with light ribbons and beads strung on them appeared in the doorway of the slightly opened gate. Calliara immediately recognized the ribbons that the half-elven elders braided into their hair.

“I will make you want me in your walls, moron…” The tiefling grumbled and grabbed the torch. Calliaras heart was calm despite the situation, before she heard the last words that left Ol`khas lips and killed the peaceful silence around.

“Give me back the kid!” She shouted and dropped the flaming torch into the wheelbarrow.

A bundle of silver leaves burst into flames like cheap paper. As if on cue, the walls around the settlement bared their teeth with guards pointing their bows in her direction. They all waited for the signal from the elder, who watched in horror as the relic's fragments burned out. In just a few seconds, there was nothing but ash and a thin thread of smoke left. The elder took a step to the tiefling, then another and another one. When there were mere centimeters between their faces - Ol`kha spoke once again, this time softer, quieter, almost pleading.

“The kid, my kid… Please!”

The elder's movement was so hasty that Calliara did not immediately understand what had happened. Only a ringing clap reached her ears, and the tiefling swayed and covered her cheek with her hand. The elf did not think for a second longer - her arrow flew dangerously close to the elder's face. The old man turned to the forest thicket in fear and ordered the guards to take the tiefling away.

Calliara waited, believing, that Ol`kha indeed had some kind of plan that wouldn't have her end in a far village in captivity. But her friend didn't fight or protest when the guards twisted her arms behind her back. And then Calliara snapped.

“Len suilon.*” She emerged from the bushes and strode towards the elder with a cold angry flames already dancing in her eyes.

The half-elf tried to greet her, but she cut him off, switching from Elven to Common.

“What's your name?”

“I eneth nîn-*”

“You part a mother with her child! Don't you dare defile the High Speech with your tongue!” Calliara couldn't care less about a contrived and essentially false hierarchy that some half-elves in these remote places obeyed. But pushing some authority, even an ill one, felt right when it came to saving her friends.

“Yennan, milady.” The elder bowed deeply and glanced back at Calliara with faded grayish eyes ingratiatingly. He took her by the hand and started muttering, leading her into the village, “this abomination is not what she claims to be. You saw her destroying sacred leaves just to mock us! And that thing, she calls her kid… that's just some nonsense! We apologize for this filthy scene, you had to witness. Let us make amends by inviting you to our weekly hymns and the evening meal. Share with us the peace and comfort of this blessed grove, and let us make it up to the higher sister by showing our respect to the old ways.”

‘Respecting the old ways’ turned out into a tour, in which Yennan was showing Calliara, how good of followers of elven traditions they were. When he wasn't consumed by an anger - there was even some grace noticeable in his pose and movements. His eyes surveyed the village with an evident sense of pride.

Calliara didn't listen to the elders stories full of poorly concealed arrogance - her thoughts were still with Ol`kha. She noticed, how Yennan avoided the stone building, which seemed to have survived from the ancient times when the high elves inhabited this place, so her eyes never left the outlines of white stone walls. The elf's heart ached with worry, but she maintained her composure, knowing that any sign of distress might endanger her friend further.

The tour continued, Yennan leading her through the village's cobblestone paths. "Here," he gestured, "is our communal garden, where we cultivate herbs and vegetables. We share everything we grow -"

“What's going to happen to her?” Calliara cut the elder off, and, noticing his confused face, added, “When are you going to give my friend her child back?”

“Milady, it is not as easy as you imagine,” the elder hesitated for a moment.

“You have, who she wants? Give them to her. It's that easy!” Calliaras voice resembled a low animalistic growl.

“The thing, she called the kid, is the ungodly creature, exiled from the five Great Kingdoms and dozens of shrines. Its sins and crimes are countless, its march down our lands had to be stopped!” Yennan clasped his hands together and shook his head repeatedly, as if even a mere thought about his prisoners brought him dread.

She insisted on visiting Ol`kha, but the elder kept postponing her visit to the prison. There was always ‘another house’, ‘another shrine’ to see and Calliara didn't want to push her ‘Higher elf’ authority too much.

It was only after she attended the feast in her honor and endure through countless empty talks, when Yennan surrendered and let Calliara into their prison. It stood at the edge of the settlement, nestled against the backdrop of towering trees that whispered secrets to the wind. The building, constructed from ancient stone, bore the marks of time with a dignified grace.

She hadn't even entered the building yet, but a dull rhythmic knock had already reached her ears. The elf quickened her pace, descending into the dungeon and was met by a frightened guard.

"Please, make her stop, this is unbearable," the poor fellow begged, trying to shout over the knocking, which was heard here much more clearly. Calliara measured him with a glance and demanded that he give her Ol`kha's belongings. Embarrassed and apologetic, the guard gave her everything except the weapons and metal tools.

"I will give you the rest on your way back, mistress. Forgive me, but we cannot allow her to receive weapons."

The heavy thud of iron hitting stone echoed off the empty walls of the dungeon. It was no mystery, why the poor guard begged her cut this sound off.

Only one cell seemed to be occupied, but as the elf passed the bars, hands from other prisoners reached out from the darkness toward her.

Only when she reached Ol`kha's cell did Calliara recognize the source of the thud. The tiefling grabbed the edges of the wrought-iron bench that served as a bed, and with a soft groan, lifted one end of the bulky structure and let it go. The bench's legs crashed onto the stone floor with a bang, sending up a cloud of dust and crumbs. The stone slab beneath the bench was clearly pitted from repeated blows.

"I thought you had a plan," Calliara said, resting her forehead on the cold bars.

Ol`kha turned to her briefly, snorted in displeasure, and lifted the bench again with visible effort.

"Why didn't you tell me they were holding your child here?!"" The elf was starting to lose her patience.

"Go away, Calliara," the tiefling muttered.

“So that you can go on with this useless banging? This won't free you or your little one. Ol`kha, my dear, please, take a pause and talk to me!”

Her friend finally let go of the bench and wiped her wet forehead with her sleeve. Her tail flicked in irritation, but when she turned back again, her face was indifferent. Her gaze slid over Calliara and stopped at her hands holding the captive's things in an armful.

“You brought me gifts! Nice!” With those words Ol`kha quickly grabbed the bottle from her friend's hands, open it and took a good sip. “Firewine never fails me. Good stuff, want to try?” “Great, now you're making a fuss and drinking. Way to go, friend…” The elf ignored the bottle Ol`kha held out to her and hissed a response with undisguised irritation. After all, why should she endure this ‘performance’ if she came to help her friend? The tiefling however, stopped paying any attention to her, took another sip and returned to her bench.

“I'm dragging you out one way or another!” Calliara dropped her friend's belongings and hit a massive prison bar with her knee. “Just make sure you're not blackout drunk by that time!”

She was about to go away, when her friend's nimble hand grabbed the folds of her cloak and pulled the elf back.

“The leaves have already been burned, the daughter of the grove. Now run, before the forest starts marching.” Ol`khas words only made the elf clench her fists in a silent anger.

Calliara emerged from the village prison with a stormy expression, her emotions as turbulent as the swirling winds in the surrounding forest. Her heart pounded in rhythm with her quickened footsteps as she crossed the courtyard, fury and frustration mixing like a volatile potion in her chest. Her friend's words made no sense whatsoever - elven deities couldn't care less about a bunch of burnt leaves. Wars came and went and even that wasn't enough to awake their anger. And Ol`kha was trying to mock them with this?

“Ridiculous,” Calliara said through her teeth.

***

Evening was slowly approaching the village. The mossy roofs were first painted in golden hues, then scarlet, and then completely glowed with bluish fluorescent lights when the night plants covering them woke up in the evening coolness. Calliara refused the elder's offer to spend this night in his house, and looked askance at the villagers leading an idle life, as if nothing special had happened today before their eyes. She was angry at them smiling at her, but taking the child away from the mother. She was angry at Ol`kha, who began to seem so mature and wise to Calliara, and then fell into useless and stupid idolatry.

The direwolf inside her was bursting to get out, asking to be released, to run through these streets, to sow fear, to take away what she considered hers. Even if it was her friend. But the elf did not weaken her self-control. She waited for the deep night. Good things often happened in her life just before dawn. So it was worth laying low for now.

To distract herself, Calliara tried to meditate: she closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat. But it still seemed to her that the dull metallic knock was reaching her ears from the dungeon. She realized that this was impossible: the prison building was too far away. And yet, for every six heartbeats, there was another beat coming from outside. It took a lot of effort for the elf to calm down, and when the rhythm of her heartbeat slowed down significantly, the annoying sound seemed to die down.

“Losto mae, mellon,*” whispered Calliara and smiled relaxed, letting her eyes rest for a moment.

She thought of last Ol`khas words and decided to educate her friend on a topic of elven gods later when she takes her out of the prison. ‘... run, before the forest starts marching.’ Nonsense. One would need an army of finest druids to make it happen.

‘... before the forest starts marching.’ An absurdity. Calliara wasn't even sure, there was any kind of magic powerful enough to make this happen.

‘... the forest starts marching.’ That's a pure madness.

And then she snapped back to reality and jumped up. Before the full realization kicked in, she already was running to the prison. Little pieces of puzzle came together: the bottle, Ol`kha snatched from her hands first ting, that chip on a stone surface growing deeper with each thud, that thing Calliara learned from her about the firewine earlier…

“You never wanted to break free from that prison.” Calliara felt a wave running after her underground. The world around shook in a vast spasm and she almost fell down. “You wanted the whole village to go down!”

The air was filled with the sound of splintering wood and cries of alarm as the half elves stumbled out of their homes. They hurried into the streets, creating a flow of people moving away, from the center of the village.

Calliara went against the crowd. Her thoughts were solely focused on one objective - reaching the prison before it was too late.

Amidst the crowd she pushed ahead, her slender figure maneuvering through gaps with agility to a forest beast. The ground shook beneath her feet. She maintained her balance stepping over fallen branches and avoiding toppled stones.

The prison loomed in front of her, its stone walls quivering with each tremor. A knot tightened in Calliaras chest as she approached closer.

A crevice split open, before her path compelling her to leap over the gap. Upon landing on the other side, she saw the half elves gathered in the village square, their shouts blending with the chaos caused by tremors.

"Stay back!" someone yelled out. Their voice was drowned out by natures fury and escalating fear.

Ignoring the warnings, Calliara dashed towards the entrance of the prison, an archway partly hidden by dust and rubble. She hurried inside, escaping the shouts of the villagers.

The stone walls groaned, shook and exploded under giant paws covered in dark, dense scales. Under the weight of the breaking vaults, the prison bars were crushed and broken. The frightened prisoners rushed in all directions, trying to find a way out. Columns of dust and a hail of shards of stone, wood and iron fragments clouded their eyes. Here and there, huge eyeless muzzles with predatory mouths appeared and sank back into the darkness. Their cries were the howl of the earth itself. A disturbed swarm, furious giants, blindly crushing everything in their way.

Calliara rushed from one figure to another in search of her friend, moving deeper and deeper. Her heart was ready to burst out of her chest, her eyes darkened from the thought that the tiefling and her baby could be lying somewhere under her feet right now. When she finally found Ol`kha, she was pushing aside other prisoners running towards her, and stubbornly walking forward.

The elf grabbed her by the shoulder, pulled her with all her might and shouted at her to get out immediately.

"The kid is in that cell! I won't leave without him!" Ol`kha snapped.

Calliara turned her head in the direction her friend was pointing and actually heard a thin voice screaming in the distance.

"I'll get him out!" the elf replied.

"But-"

The elf cut her out with an animalistic growl, no human or elf could ever produce. She jumped forward, bounced from the nearest wall and turned in one swift motion. This happened too fast to even notice the moment, when a subtle elven body turned into a beastly direwolves one. But as she landed on her four and looked back at her friend - it was obvious, she made the right impression. The tiefling nodded with an open mouth and turned to run with the rest of prisoners.

Dust filled the air, stinging Calliara’s eyes as she sprinted through the collapsing corridors. Her heart pounded with a singular mission: to save the child trapped in the farthest cell.

The labyrinthine passages twisted and turned, each quake sending shockwaves that cracked the floor beneath her paws. Her sensitive ears picked up the terrifying sounds of rock splitting. But there was no time to stop, no time to think of anything but the child she had promised to protect.

Rounding a corner, Calliara skidded to a halt before the cell door, her wolf senses honing in on the sound of panicked bleating. Confusion struck her for a split second; this was not the sound of a child. Peering into the darkness her sharp eyes found the source of the cries: a small, trembling baby goat, its eyes wide with terror.

The tiny creature stood alone, the straw-covered floor trembling beneath its hooves. Calliara’s heart twisted in her chest. This was no child, but she couldn’t leave it behind. The dungeon groaned ominously, and debris began to fall around her, stone and dust cascading in a deadly rain.

There was no time to hesitate. Calliara carefully grabbed the goat by the scruff of its neck, the little creature’s cries muffled against her fur.

The weight of the dungeon seemed to press down on them as she turned and sprinted back the way she had come, the floor buckling beneath her powerful strides. Her keen instincts guided her through the falling chaos, dodging chunks of ceiling and leaping over gaping fissures that threatened to swallow them whole.

Every second felt like an eternity, the world around her a blur of motion and sound. The goat dangled from her mouth, its bleats drowned out by the incredible roar rolling behind them. Calliara poured all her strength into the escape, muscles straining as she raced against the collapsing prison.

Ol`kha stood with other prisoners on a village square. Their backs were almost pushed against the collapsing prison walls, as the guards and Yennan waited them outside and had no plans of releasing them. The tension between them was so present, one could almost feel the taste of it in the air. Any careless movement - and there would be a fight.

“Step back, Ol`kha, your riot ends here!” Yennan cried out and coughed, inhaling too much dust.

“It haven't even started, old man!” tieflings eyes darkened, her voice grew angrier. “I am going to bury your village under the ground today! You decide, if your people are going to outlive this!”

“You and what army?” snapped one of the prison guards, shielding Yennan with his body.

The grey coated beast with golden eyes landed squarely between the panicked guards and the prisoners trying to flee.

The sight of the massive direwolf, teeth bared and eyes blazing with defiance, sent a ripple of fear through the guards. Her growl rumbled deep in her chest, a warning as clear as any words. ‘She and this army’. The guards hesitated, their weapons held uncertainly, eyes wide with shock at the sight before them.

Calliara’s presence commanded attention, her fierce demeanor and the strange cargo in her jaws creating a surreal scene amid the chaos. She stood her ground, the goat still held securely in her mouth, her stance both protective and threatening. Her gaze flicked over the guards, daring them to come closer.

Yennan made a sound between a nervous sigh and a groan.

“The forest spirit leading a riot?” He mumbled and then pushed the guards before him. “Bow and retreat, you fools! If the nature itself wants these lost souls - we are in no position to protest!”

The guards, clearly unnerved, began to back away, whispering among themselves. Some stumbled over fallen stones in their haste to retreat, their courage faltering under the direwolf’s unyielding glare. Calliara’s growl intensified, echoing through the courtyard and reverberating against the stone walls.

The prisoners, taking advantage of the guards’ distraction, moved cautiously away from the entrance, eyes darting between the wolf and their captors. Calliara watched them go, sensing their relief and fear mingling in the charged air.

***

The wheels of the old cart creaked so loudly that all the birds flew away just hearing their approach. The driver barely held the reins, smoking his pipe. In the cart behind him, in addition to his goods, a tiefling, an elf and a kid were lying in a pile of hay.

Ol`kha stared at the sky with unblinking eyes, Calliara fell asleep, then woke up from the fact that the baby goat began to chew on her clothes.

Once again, waking up from her dreams, she tore the edge of the cape from the goat's mouth.

"Manners, Sebastian," the tiefling muttered, and the kid happily jumped on her, knocking a sharp breath out of her chest with his hooves. “You're going to tell me, why he's exiled from the five Great Kingdoms and dozens of shrines?” asked the elf softly.

“A long story for another day. You're going to tell me about the… wolf?” answered Ol`kha lazily.

“A long story… for another night in a decent inn.” the elf thought for a minute and added, “you have someone to hide you two until the rumors about what happened settle down?”

“Yes. Was hoping, to never meet him again, but there is one guy, who can hide anyone on a plain sight...”

They spent next few minutes in silence, but Ol`kha broke it.

“So they are going to talk of ‘the forest spirit that leads riots’ now. I guess, im sorry for all the inconvenience?”

“Don't be.” Calliara closed her eyes and smiled. “The spirit that leads riots. Riot. I like the sound of it.”

“And I thought, all the high elves were just pompous bores…” chuckled her friend as they finally left the forest.

*Len suilon - a formal greeting in Elven

*I eneth nîn - (Elven) “my name is”

*Losto mae, mellon - (Elven) “sleep well, friend”

#fantasy au #tf141 au #cod mw2 #cod oc #cod original character #call of duty original character #olga zhar samoilova #christine riot vega #christine vega #riot vega #cod riot

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sketchfanda · 1 year ago

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Kirishima's Mystique:Predator and Prey

Somewhere within the deep woods of the forest around Mount Fuji, it was clear blue skies and high temperatures this fine summer. For Kirishima, after exams and a well earned break, he knew he’d love to right about now be on a beach with Mina and Maya or just hanging out around them in general. But instead of being skin on skin intimate with his alien queen and shapeshifting lady of the waves, he was here in the closest equivalent Japan had to a jungle, the sun baring down as he found himself in a literal life or death struggle. It’d seemed some simple enough,the JSDF had been around here conducting training exercises and for reasons unknown, one of the platoons had gone missing, presumed captured.

Of course he was passing by when he overheard the situation and stepped up, volunteering to go find and rescue the band of soldiers. That’d been several hours ago, the noon day sun hanging high above as the Red riot hero rested against a tree trunk while catching his breath. So far there had been no sign of the platoon and he had the sneaking suspicion that whatever got them was up to something. As if whoever or whatever was around here was following him....tracking him down and stalking him, akin to a wild predator seeking its prey.

Unknown to the sturdy hero was that indeed his suspicions were correct as perched high up above on a tree branch, he was being watched. A transparent figure shimmering in the sunlight, its form implied to be very well built and power as its hidden gaze was locked upon the himbo. A distinct clicking or chittering sound heard as its point of view was an infrared spectrum, seeing Kirishima's body heat standout clear as day. Clearly it was liking what it saw as if it could sense the raw strength presiding within the humanoid tank.

Whoever or whatever this figure was, it certainly wasn't human and it seemed to take an interest in him. So much so that unknown to him, the platoon of soldiers had already been released, let go back into freedom as they were deemed unworthy prey. Yes as far as this creature was concerned, the Red Riot was a more worthwhile quarry as the shimmer distortion around it faded in crackles of static electricity. Revealing this enigma to be a female of one of the most notorious urban legends around, a creature from a race of intergalactic hunters who went from planet to planet during the hottest times of the year in their climates, seeking out targets to hunt and worthwhile trophies to claim.

There were many names and titles given to these beings, most common being Predators or their proper designation, the Yautja and this distinct femme fatale had felt itself in the presence of a worthy quarrry. Its ultra-violet vision gazing on him as distinct clicks could be heard beneath its chrome helm as static flicked along her being, rending her invisble once more as she began to stalk and track down the hero in training. She couldn't quite think why exactly, but there was something about Kirishima that stood out compared to those soldiers. He was strong, that much she could tell but seemingly, was it the idea that he came out here all alone?

Whatever the reason, the hunt was on and this femme fatale was on the prowl as the day passed on, seconds into minutes which moved into hours. So far she had to say she was finding the sturdy hero an impressive specimen, as her quarry made the most of their terrain seemingly getting the feeling someone or something was following him. The maze of trees, rubble and paths providing plenty of means for Kirishima to find himself a hiding place, to which the Huntress had to say, was plenty resourceful. The soldiers prior to capture had been panicky, desperate and clumsy but this one was no stranger to navigating his way around in the wild which only made him a potential worthy trophy pending in her mind.

Yet for every moment her quarry eluded her, the huntress found that his survival skills were putting him quite a few steps ahead, enough to have her wondering if at some point that the tables had been turned on her. That she had become HIS prey instead and if that were the case, why did this not worry her in the slightest? Rather if anything it excited her, dare she think it aroused her, sensual pleasure coursing through her very being. To think that on this simple little planet she would find not only a challenging hunt but perhaps a worthy mate, a prime specimen of male that made the Huntress' body burn with a need, a desire to bare his young.

Yes indeed perhaps children from a man such as him would become nothing less than the finest hunters to grace and stalk throughout the galaxy, as her determination intensified along with her libido's thirst. The hunt was on as once the pair caught sight of each other or got within range, combat was engaged. Kirishima quite puzzled as well as surprised to find he was dealing with some sort of alien, a literal extra terrestrial who of course was packing some major heat on her. The Yautja of course only felt validated and vindicated by her instincts and impression of the hero in training as his quirk proved to be more than affective against some of her bladed tools, to say nothing his being able to tank against her plasma shoulder cannon.

Whenever the opportunity to escape and gain some distance to recover and re-strategize presented itself, they'd take it especially to patch up any major wounds. Kirishima wasn't worse for wear bar some damage to his outfit while the Huntress found some of her equipment had taken some of its own. Her cloaking device was now on the fritz, her shoulder cannon bent in disarray and to say nothing of the chips to her blades and yet it only made her all the more aroused. Truly such a thrilling hunt and such an impressive specimen of Man, it was intoxicating compared to the thrill of the hunt.

Particularly when she found her quarry setting up traps here and there, proving no doubt that Kirishima had himself some experience when it came to wilderness survival. Some she was able to avoid but the few that managed to spring up on her naturally lewd to the chivalrous himbo ambushing her for some close quarters combat. His will to fight not out of some need to prove some sense of superiority but the need to survive, it was only serving to further arouse her. Their eventual game of cat and mouse at a pint where they stood across from each other, panting as the sun was setting in the horizon, both a little worse for wear but still raring to go.

Kirishima:”Had enough? Or you thirsty for more? I can do this all day you ugly motherfu-“*Whatever Kirishima was about to say next was interrupted as he heard the Huntress make a strange sound, like a mix of a purr and the chittering of mandibles that dare he say sounded rather sensual? As piece by piece, she began to disconnect and discard her equipment and tools, save for her wrist device as she then began to actually strip naked right before him. The Red Riot’s eyes bugging out along with his jaw dropping as the still helm masked alien babe now stood before him laid bare exposing a thicc, powerful body that’d been trained and honed in the ways of her culture. Her chittering purr growing in volume as unknown to him, her visual scan and visual spectrum could pick up signs of arousal.*

Kirishima had a feeling this now naked Huntress couldn’t quite speak any human language but her body movements were ones he was definitely understanding right now that was for sure. You didn’t sleep with the girlfriends he had and as many women as he had been with sexually and not be able to tell that this dreadlocked scaly alien Amazon was saying “I want your babies you stud”. As she easily dwarfed him at height having to be something like six feet plus If not taller, looming over him as she stood up close and personal to him, her clawed hands on his bare chest as she caressed his muscles. If her message wasn’t clear before, his face being near between those quite firm yet stunning tits of hers was definitely hitting the nail on th head, that was for sure.

What followed from dusk onward was the labyrinth like forest of Mount Fuji echoing throughout long into the night with the sounds and cries of animalistic, passionate mating. The huntress experience a better thrill than that of the hunt, that being claimed by her new alpha male as his quite impressive length and girth thrust and pumped into her slit. The sturdy bingo proving himself quite a capable sexual lover as he displayed and proved his virility an prowess which showed her there being more to sex than she ever thought capable. And she was loving every moment of it, especially whenever he would cum inside her thus ensuring she’d end this encounter carrying a future generation of hunters.

Even in positions where she topped him, she knew she was submitting before him, he was the victor and she was his trophy. Being claimed as only a prime specimen of man like him should, every slap of her ass and squeeze of her tits tempting her to remove her helmet just so she could kiss him and give him oral pleasure. Perhaps next time as she was already thinking of her next return trip to Earth, knowing she needed, had to mate with her alpha male enough to ime to make a tribe’s worth of children. Okay so maybe she was getting a little erotically addicted. Ut why woildnt she with a man like this?

From cowgirl to full nelson, to the intimacy of a standing fuck, being pinned up against a tree or laying on the grass taking it doggy style or prone bone, The huntress welcomed and relished each and every round. Her alpha male not stopping until his powerful cock and balls felt drained, as the pair laid together within the wild, basking in the afterglow. Come the morning Kirishima would’ve thought it was all some bizarre dream had it not been for the fact he woke up naked and alone…save for a necklace of strange exotic animal teeth left by his side. He just knew this would be quite a story to tell Mina and Maya, that was for sure.

The yautja woman of course was seated in the cockpit of her spacecraft, heading back to her home world. Rubbing her stomach contentedly having no doubts she had claimed Something far better than a hunting trophy. Yes indeed the first of many children she hoped to receive from her alpha male that would be raised and trained to become skilled and strong hunters for generations to come. Already awaiting and counting down the days until her return to earth and the pleasure that would follow meeting her stud once again.

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eamesandbellamyaremyheaven · 21 days ago

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Oaths we made, secrets we keep Ch3 || Arthur x Sansa Stark (GOT AU)

Begining || Chapter Two

Game of Thrones EP 2x06 AU (there’s no such thing as canon)

Warnings: It is GOT, so what do you think? Smut, swear, blood and violence. I'll put a warning in the beginning of the chapter with the trigger.

Summary: Arthur begins his new duties.

A.N.//- Thank you for the warm reaction to the first chapter! Any questions you have, feel free to ask! Taglist is open!

Chapter Three

Sansa III

Darkness pressed in around her, the roar of the mob echoing in her ears. Sansa was back in the riot, their filthy hands grabbing at her, their jeers mingling with her desperate cries. One man shoved her against the floor, his breath rancid as he sneered, “Pretty little bird…”

“No, no!” she screamed, thrashing as she tried to break free.

Sansa woke with a start, her chest heaving and her body drenched in sweat. The faint morning light seeped through her window, but it did nothing to banish the terror clinging to her. She sat up, trying to calm her racing heart, only to feel a dampness beneath her.

She flung back the covers and froze. A dark, spreading stain of blood marked the pale fabric of her mattress. Her breath hitched as realization dawned.

“No. Oh, no…” she whispered, panic rising.

Desperately, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, snatching up a knife that sat at a fruit tray. She pressed the blade to the bloodstain, scraping at it, as though she could erase the evidence of her womanhood.

The door creaked open as Shae entered, balancing a tray of breakfast. She froze at the sight before her, then set the tray down and hurried to Sansa’s side.

“It’s all right” Shae said gently, prying the knife from Sansa’s trembling hands. “Give me that before you hurt yourself.”

Sansa looked at her with wide, tearful eyes. “If the Queen sees…” Her voice broke. “I can have Joffrey’s children now.”

Shae’s expression hardened, but her hands remained steady as she reached for the mattress. “Help me flip it over” she said briskly.

Sansa nodded, and together they struggled with the weight of the mattress, their movements hurried and clumsy. As they lifted one corner, the door opened again, and a second handmaiden entered, carrying linens. She stopped abruptly, her eyes darting between the two of them, before realization set in.

The handmaiden turned on her heel and fled without a word.

Sansa’s face paled “She’ll tell the Queen” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Shae dropped the mattress and straightened, her jaw tight “Stay here” she ordered, before rushing after the handmaiden.

Sansa sat on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping her nightdress. Her thoughts raced, filled with images of Joffrey’s smirk and the Queen’s calculating gaze. The room felt colder, heavier, as though the weight of her fear were pulling it down around her.

The door creaked again, and this time, the Hound entered. His hulking frame filled the doorway, his face as unreadable as ever. He didn’t speak, his dark eyes taking in the bloodstained sheets, the flipped mattress, and Sansa’s tear-streaked face.

Sansa lowered her gaze, unable to meet his stare. She waited for him to speak, to sneer or mock her. But he said nothing. The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive.

Shae came back in a hurry, only to stop in her tracks at the doorframe. There was nothing they could do now. The Hound gave a low grunt and turned, leaving the room without a word.

Sansa sat there, motionless, the sound of his retreating footsteps echoing faintly down the hall. The morning sunlight slanted across her lap, but it offered no warmth. Shae rushed towards her and pulled her to an embrace, one she accepted willingly. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly forlorn.

Arthur III

Arthur strode through the narrow stone corridors of the Red Keep, his boots echoing faintly against the cold floor. The weight of his new duties hung on his shoulders like a mantle he wasn’t sure he wanted. The Red Keep was vast, a labyrinth of intrigue, secrets, and danger. But the dangers of King’s Landing were nothing new to him.

As he turned a corner, he nearly collided with a figure in a flowing gown of pale blue. Sansa Stark. She stopped abruptly, her head bowing slightly and her gaze darting to the floor as if afraid to meet his eyes, her auburn hair falling like a curtain over her face.

“I beg pardon, ser” she said softly, her voice skittish yet melodic “I should have come to you after… to thank you for saving me. You were so brave.”

Arthur paused, momentarily caught off guard. Her words were studied and calculated, her whole stance perfected to mask herself “I’m no ser, my lady” he replied honestly, but at the same time with an unkindness she had not earned. “I just did what any man ought to do”

Her head tilted slightly, and her clear blue eyes locked onto his. They were wide and filled with acknowledgment, and something about their intensity made him feel uncomfortably exposed. “But no one else did” she said softly, her lips curving into a faint, cautious small smile.

Arthur shifted awkwardly “Then not everyone deserves to be called a man.”

The candour of his words seemed to take her aback, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her lips parted in surprise, but then her smile grew a little, warmer, more genuine. “You’re very honest.”

He inclined his head and shrugged, unsure how to respond, “I try to be.”

There was a brief silence, charged but not unpleasant, before Arthur gave her a short bow. “If you’ll excuse me, my lady. I’m expected elsewhere.”

“Of course.” She stepped aside, her hands clasped neatly before her. “Thank you again.”

Arthur gave her a short bow before continuing down the corridor. Her voice, delicate yet practiced, lingered in his mind, as did those striking blue eyes that seemed to hide as much as they revealed. She had spoken with polite gratitude, but Arthur could sense the mask she wore - poise and civility carefully crafted to conceal the fear and turmoil she felt. The thought stayed with him, unsettling and oddly compelling, as he made his way to meet Lord Tyrion.

※※※※

The chamber door was ajar when Arthur arrived, and he paused for a moment, hearing voices within.

“An History of the Great Sieges of Westeros” Tyrion Lannister’s distinctive voice drawled. “By Archmaester Shevelathin… Shevelatesh?”

Arthur stepped inside and glanced at the book in Lord Tyrion’s hands. “Ch’Vyalthan,” he corrected, his tone even, as he sat down in front of the acting Hand.

Tyrion arched a brow, surprised. “Do you know how to read?”

Arthur smirked faintly as he raised a brow “Do you?”

Bronn barked out a laugh, clapping a hand to his shoulder “I like him,” he said, grinning at the Lannister.

Tyrion sighed dramatically. “It seems I’m surrounded by sharp tongues. Wonderful.”

Before the banter could continue, the door opened, and Varys entered, gliding into the room like a shadow. His keen eyes immediately settled on Arthur, studying him with open curiosity.

Bronn, still pacing, continued his earlier thread of thought. “Aye, we talked about it. Have you ever been in a city under siege? Maybe this part’s not in your books. See, it’s not the fighting that kills most people.”

Arthur interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “It’s the starving. Food’s worth more than gold. If things get bad enough, the people start eating each other.”

“Ah, a new face,” Varys said smoothly. “How intriguing. And who might this be? There’s very little in this city I don’t know, yet I can’t seem to place you.”

Tyrion gestured lazily toward Arthur. “This is the man who rescued Lady Sansa from the mob. He’ll be working for me, as her personal guard” he added, with a knowing look

Varys’s gaze lingered, intrigued. “Interesting choice”

Arthur didn’t flinch under the scrutiny but instead turned to Tyrion. “If that’s all, my lord, I should get to my duties.”

Tyrion waved a hand. “By all means. Don’t let us keep you.”

Arthur gave a curt nod and stepped out, his presence leaving a noticeable absence behind.

Something about the way they’d all watched him left him feeling like a pawn in a game he had no interest in playing.

Sansa IV

Sansa sat beneath the heart tree in the godswood, the gentle rustle of leaves around her offering a rare moment of peace. Her embroidery rested lightly in her hands, the delicate stitchwork of a direwolf almost finished. Shae stood quietly nearby, watching her, though Sansa knew she was never truly alone with the woman there.

Footsteps approached, soft against the mossy ground, and she didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Arthur. He always seemed so quiet, moving like a shadow through the halls. His voice broke the stillness. “You’re not praying.”

Sansa glanced up at him, surprised, her fingers pausing mid-stitch. She gave him a small smile, though it felt more like a mask than anything else. “I am always left alone to pray,” she replied, glancing briefly to her work, her voice light but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper. “So I tend to pray a lot… for the longest times.”

Arthur’s expression softened, and he nodded, leaning against a nearby tree. “What are you making?” His tone was casual, yet there was something in his gaze that made her feel as if he were truly interested.

“A wolf” she said, holding up the cloth. She looked at the embroidery for a moment, as if she could find some hidden meaning in the stitches. “For my brothers. Or… for myself. I’m not sure.”

Arthur studied the intricate pattern, his eyes focused on the details. “You’re good at that.”

Sansa gave a small laugh, but it held a hint of melancholy. “It’s expected of me. A proper lady should know her stitches.”

Arthur’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile crossing his face, his voice low and teasing “Doesn’t mean you have to like it.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice – and mischievous undertone. It was a refreshing change. “No, I suppose not,” she said, turning the cloth in her hands. She could feel his eyes still on her, though she didn’t meet his gaze again. Instead, she absently continued with her stitching.

She glanced up at him again, her curiosity piqued. “And you, do you enjoy your duty? Guarding ladies?”

Arthur hesitated for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve done it all my life, in one way or another” he replied, his voice low but calm. “Protecting ladies, I mean.”

Sansa nodded, her gaze dropping back to her embroidery. The quiet hum of the godswood seemed to amplify in the space between them, and she found herself thinking about how strange it was to be having such a conversation. Since her father’s death and Robb’s war, Sansa had become both a prisoner and a pawn. The court showed her false kindness, but no one really spoke to her. Joffrey taunted, Cersei belittled, and the rest avoided her like she had greyscale. The handmaidens kept themselves at a measured distance. Guards weren’t supposed to be so open. Or maybe it was just him.

She thought for a moment before asking, almost absently, “What house did you used to work for? Before?”

Arthur let out a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling with some private amusement. “The Dragon’s Nest”

Sansa frowned, confused. “The… what?”

Shae, who had been standing by quietly, spoke up with a calm, amused tone “It’s a whorehouse, my lady.”

Sansa blinked, her face flushing with surprise. She hadn’t expected that answer. Her mouth went dry, and for a moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She looked from Shae to Arthur, unsure how to respond. Arthur seemed unbothered, his face relaxed, though his lips curled in an almost mischievous grin.

“I grew up there,” Arthur added casually. “My mother’s the house governess. My sister and I were raised in the back rooms, learning all sorts of useful things.”

Sansa’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She could feel her cheeks burning.

Arthur chuckled lightly, almost to himself. “It wasn’t as glamorous as it sounds, my lady. But it kept us fed.”

Sansa didn’t know what to say to that. She looked down to her stitching, not even sure where she had stopped. She forced a small laugh. “I suppose that explains… a lot.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Does it now?”

Sansa tilted her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself. “Why you ought to do what other men won’t.”

Arthur’s lips twitched, his smile widening. “We all have our stories.”

Sansa let out a soft laugh, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders. For a moment, they both seemed to share some unspoken understanding.

But the moment was brief. Sansa returned to her work, the needle moving through the fabric with a quiet rhythm. The quiet settled between them once more, only the sound of her stitching and Shae nibbling on a handful of berries breaking the peace.

Arthur shifted slightly, his gaze lingering on Sansa for a moment longer. He leaned back against the tree again, his eyes distant. Something in him seemed lost in thought, but Sansa didn’t interrupt. There was a stillness in the air, and for a brief moment, she let herself enjoy it.

The silence stretched on, comfortable in its quiet, until it was time to leave the godswood. The three of them walked back to the Keep, Sansa listening quietly as Shae spoke about lunch, with Arthur a few steps behind them. He left them without a word just as they approached the chambers, and Sansa found her thoughts lingering on the exchange.

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