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ticklyfluffers · 3 years ago

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Sensitive Seeker-TF TK Fic

Repost of fan fiction of mine.

To think, it all started with just a simple gesture.

Thundercracker mused in how he had gotten to the scene he stood in now: Starscream shooting off blast after blast at Skywarp, yet the purple and black Seeker just treated the entire thing as some sort of game.

And, perhaps in some weird way, it was a game. As “‘playful” as a “self-respecting” Decepticon could be, he supposed. Yet still, he’d known he would need to separate the two (as always) eventually. Yet when to jump in was the question, as he was in no mood to have a shot of raw, stinging energy or a null ray being delivered to his facial region, should he intervene at the wrong time.

‘How did I get here, dealing with this?’ He questioned, inwardly groaning. It was a useless question, having already known the answer.

It had begun but a few short Earth minutes ago, at least, it had for him and Skywarp, yet for their Commander, it had begun but a few solar cycles ago (at least that measurement of time was fairly close to those used in this planet). Once again, Starscream noticed a, in his own words, “massive flaw” in one of Megatron’s bids to acquire more energy, and thus, just HAD to point it out and make sure everyone around him could hear it. This then led into the regular bickering, which led to the Seeker (once again) proclaiming he’d make a more suitable leader for the Decepticons, which led to Megatron “reminding” him of his place (once again), which resulted in a trip to the infirmary (once again).

And, while Thundercracker felt Starscream deserved to be told to keep his mouth shut, the blue Seeker found himself dreading what Megatron had planned for the Air Commander, as while it was Starscream’s punishment, somehow, in some way, it would affect his wingmates. Once again. Thankfully, it wasn’t overly extreme, mainly because Megatron had two locations of interest in mind, and probably declared that more worthy of his time than looking over his shoulder for his 2nd in Command’s potential assassination attempts. The Decepticon Leader had assigned Starscream and his wingmates to keep watch over the Space Bridge until the operation to seize control over the locations was completed or disregarded.

“And knowing our ‘glorious leader’, he’ll probably fail at this plan too.” Starscream grumbled to himself, arms folded over his chassis.

Thundercracker only sighed. Ever since he had come here, slag, back when was alerted of his duties, the Seeker had done nothing but complain over his leader’s orders. Of course, with a little “encouragement” from Soundwave (as in, alert Starscream he would be relieved of his wings for a good while if he didn’t do as he was told), their Air Commander (begrudgingly) accepted the assignment. Of course, now that they were here, Starscream had seen it as the perfect time to go ahead and start his tirade against Megatron again.

And suffice to say, it was beginning to get on his trine-mate’s nerves.

“Guard duty,” Starscream growled. “Of ALL the humiliating tasks he could’ve thrust on me...guard duty?!”

Skywarp began to shake, fists trembling until finally, he had finally reached his breaking point. “Is it possible for you to shut the frag up for at least a FEW cycles?! Is that too hard to ask?!”

Thundercracker was quite taken aback by the violet Seeker’s outburst. If anyone was being told to shut up, it was usually him. ‘Primus, he must be REALLY mad.’

“I’ll say whatever is slagging well please, thank you very much!” Starscream retorted, clenching his fists.

“Well go off and do it somewhere else away from me!” Skywarp argued back. “I’m getting sick of hearing that shrill dog whistle of a voice you’ve got!”

“Then get used to it, because I have no intention of stopping until I’m done!”

While he had no appreciation, let alone any sense of respect for it, since their arrival to this primitive world, some Decepticons had taken to using Earth expressions and terms in comparison to some more traditional, archaic language. The Casseticons were the worst out of these bots, outright using terms such as ‘dude’ and ‘man’, as well as copying much human cursing (a good portion of which humans based on their own bodily functions, to Thundercracker’s confusion). Skywarp, whether he had just decided that their regular curses weren’t enough, or he had been hanging out with Rumble and Frenzy on one too many assignments, decided to unleash everything that had been, as humans say, getting under his skin.

“Oh boo-hoo! You think YOU’RE the only one that doesn’t want to be here?!” the Seeker shouted, approaching Starscream. “This entire damn thing is your fault anyhow! You just HAD to go and run your mouth about how much Megatron’s plans suck and how YOU obviously had the better idea!”

“Because I do!” the Seeker Commander countered. “He wished to attack both locations at the same time, yet didn’t wish to better separate his forces into equal groups! Even if one was easier to access than the other, did he not think those blasted Autobots would just LET themselves be overtaken?!” he fumed, releasing a frustrated cry. “Bah! He had NO good reason to NOT send the Constructicons! There would’ve been no way that any of those slagging Auto-dorks would’ve stood a chance against Devastator! But NOOOOO! Apparently, they were needed elsewhere!”

“Because there was a crack in the hull,” Thundercracker interjected himself. True, he had little intention of getting involved, yet Starscream was forgetting one vital factor in Megatron’s decision. “The lower sections would’ve been at risk of getting worse and potentially breaking open. Then the entire Nemesis would’ve been flooded.”

“The pressure at the depths the ship’s at is far from enough to cause a breakage in such short a time!” Starscream argued. “We are situated in what the under evolved primates of this floating rock called the mesopelagic zone. True, we are away from the primary star of this current solar system, yet a majority of sea life in that area are perfectly capable of withstanding the water pressure. And they’re also organic, mind you!”

Skywarp scoffed. “You saying all that fancy mumbo-jumbo to make yourself sound smarter or something?”

“Hey, I WAS an accomplished scientist back in the Golden Era of Cybertron!”

“Of which you quit!” the purple and black Seeker countered. “And accomplished? That’s a fat load of shit, and you know it! I bet you only got a passing grade on whatever research logs you presented to those old farts running the academy!”

“Why you slagging piece of-”

“All right, both of you! That’s enough!” Thundercracker had decided that now was the time to step in, lest things start getting violent. Violence was an accepted part of Decepticon culture, seeing as many of their members had been forced to engage in it just to scrape by and survive via gladiatorial matches and other low ranking jobs (which didn’t house the most respectable of bots), yet the blue and black Seeker wasn’t in the mood in having to bring both of his wingmates into the infirmary because they decided to behave like a couple of Sparklings and duke it out.

That’s when the discovery had been made.

Thundercracker had pushed back against Skywarp’s chassis, yet he must’ve misjudged the distance between him and his oh-so-mature Commander (seriously, and he said Skywarp was the one who behaved like a sparkling). His servos made contact with the red and blue Seeker’s waistline, and that was when he and Skywarp heard it. It was a cross between a frightened gasp and an attempt to choke back laughter. Any anger between them had died that instant, replaced with curiosity and bewilderment. Their Commanding Officer was looking quite frazzled and on edge.

“Whoa, time out for a nano-second,” Skywarp said, lightly shoving Thundercracker off him. Nevertheless, he turned to him for confirmation. “You hear that too?” He then turned his attention to Starscream. “Hey, Screamer, what was that noise you made just now? And don’t say it’s nothing, I’ve got a witness right here!” Skywarp gestured to Thundercracker.

Starscream paled (even if there was no change of color) and stood there with wide, red optics. Nonetheless, he quickly straightened himself out and appeared to be cool and collected. “I was merely taken aback by Thundercracker’s sudden movements was all.” He explained, all the while trying to choose his next words very carefully. “You should be grateful he stepped in, lest I fire my null ray right in your face.” He glowered at the black and purple Seeker, hoping that his display would get his subordinate to back down.

But, as the humans said, no dice.

“Uh, correct me if I’m wrong-“ Skywarp began, taking a few steps toward, noticing how Starscream took a few steps back.

“And you are.” Starscream interrupted.

“But you seem a little nervous there.” The Seeker’s grinned. “All I’m asking is why you made that noise.”

Slag, Starscream thought. He wasn’t buying it. Ok, don’t panic. Just come up with another excuse. One that he surely couldn’t refute. “Well...it seems that my inner components are still a little sore from my last...disagreement with our all-wise and all-powerful leader.” He snarled that last part. Even if he were trying to get Skywarp off his back, it wasn’t all a lie. Hook had told him to take it slow for a few solar cycles for his internal repairs to mend the rest of him back together.

“Oh dear, are you ok?” Skywarp asked, an uncomfortable amount of mischievousness in his voice.

Slag. “Yes, I’m fine,” Starscream assured. “But...you shouldn’t touch me. In fact, I outright forbid it.”

Thundercracker analyzed the situation, looking back and forth between Skywarp and Starscream. He was puzzled at first regarding what had happened when he separated the two, yet given one Seeker’s predatory grin and the other’s excuses, it slowly dawned on him what was going on, as well as what Skywarp intended to do.

“Why?” He asked, taking a step towards Starscream while Starscream himself took a few steps back. “You took quite a bruising not too long ago. Maybe something is out of place or broken.”

“No! No, nothing is out of place or broken!” The SIC shook his head wildly.

“Are you sure? Because last time, you said Hook was a piss poor excuse for a medic.” Skywarp chuckled, raising his hands and spreading his servos out.

“Well, I think maybe he’s improved his craft these last few human weeks!” Starscream said, beginning to look around for any escape routes. “But...just in case, you shouldn’t touch anything! You could only make it worse!”

It was then that a familiar, magenta hue began to overtake the purple Seeker, Starscream’s optics widening in horror. “Why Starscream, I’m hurt! Do you think I’d actually hurt you?” He said coyly, optics fittingly red and devilish. “You’re my Commander, my trine-mate. It’s mine and Cracker’s job here to tend to your needs.”

Thundercracker gave a low growl, Skywarp knowing well how he hated being referred to by that name. Despite that though, he kept quiet.

“C’mon,” Skywarp cooed. Then, the magenta hue overtook his entire form, and in a flash, the Seeker was gone from sight.

“N-No! Stay away from me-“ Starscream shouted, yet was cut off when he felt digits traveling along his waistline.

“No need to be so tense.”

The reaction was immediate. Skywarp’s servos lightly stroked and scratched at the other Seeker’s ivory midsection, Starscream seizing up and doubling over, trying to get his “comrade” to release him.

“N-No! Stop it!” Starscream hollered, trying to grab at Skywarp’s hands. “I command you to-“ then out it came. “St-Sto-hoho-p!” A chortle caught in the middle of a demand (or was it a plea) to cease the infernal movements. Starscream had managed to wrench himself away from his assailant, but the damage was already done.

His terrible secret had been uncovered.

“No. Way.” Skywarp said. True, he suspected it, but to actually have confirmed blew his processor. “No. Fragging. Way!!!” He then pointed to his superior. “You’re ticklish!!!”

Now it was Thundercracker’s turn to be surprised, he looked at Starscream with bewilderment and shock. While it wasn’t a topic relatively discussed among themselves, he and the rest of the Decepticons would be fools if they didn’t acknowledge that their “hosts' ' shared more than a few qualities with the ones that had crashed landed on their planet millions of years ago. They were the only species to have similar civilizations to their own, same general body shape, they had an internal, skeletal structure that greatly resembled their own, lived as the dominant species on the planet (well, they were until the Decepticons and Autobots awoke), and fought and warred amongst themselves over the centuries. Yet when it came to the way their organic structure was put together, no one had an exact idea of how the human body functioned. Soundwave suggested gathering a few “lab rats'' and transporting them to Shockwave, yet so far, nothing else had come from that suggestion. Good thing too, Thundercracker felt such a thing was both unnecessary and, while he would never say it aloud, savage. But from what he had seen from Skywarp’s experiment, it seemed that they now were the ones to share the trait of ticklishness with the humans.

Starscream stood there, completely at a loss at what to say or do, processor scrambling to try and find something, anything, to keep the inevitable from happening. “I-I am not-AH!!!” He protested, only for Skywarp to teleport behind him and deliver a servo right in the crease where his hips met his waist. “Stop it!!!” He then aimed the weapon situated on his left shoulder in the other Seeker’s direction. “Try that again, and this null ray is going to blast you right in the face!”

Skywarp wasn’t the least bit intimidated. In fact, this just seemed to make him even more eager to go through with his plan. ”Primus, you’re acting like I’m going to kill you!”

“I’ll kill YOU if you get any closer! I mean it!” Starscream shouted, still aimed right at Skywarp’s head.

“Fine. Do it.” Skywarp laughed. “In fact, I doubt you’d be fast enough to hit me before I just warp out of the way.” He drew closer. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Thundercracker stood by, ready to jump in if things got too ugly. Starscream was cornered, he knew it, yet he seemed to be leaning much more into flight than fight. He looked to the blue Seeker as if trying to gain some support (or maybe a shield to use in case Skywarp made the first move), yet his optics mainly stayed on the third Seeker, trying to gauge what the next plan in his strategy was.

And it was then that Starscream made a critical decision. Frag it.

Immediately taking flight, Starscream transformed into his jet mode and zoomed off, leaving a long, cloudy trail as he departed.

“Oh no!” Skywarp declared, also transforming and chasing after his superior. “You’re not getting away that easily!”

“The slag do you think you’re going?! Get back here!!!” Thundercracker bellowed, yet either Skywarp didn’t hear or just outright disregarded his command, because he and Starscream flew off, leaving him alone.

Why did he always have to be the one to reign those two in?

…

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll go easy on you if that’ll get you to slow down!”

“NO!!!”

“I’m not going to hurt ya!”

“That makes it worse!!!”

“Don’t be such a baby!”

“Frag you!!!”

Back and forth the two Seekers went, Skywarp going back between promising to be ‘gentle’ with his Commander to outright declaring that resistance was futile, and Starscream shot back with threats of murder and dismemberment. All of which didn’t deter Skywarp a bit.

Seeing that the other jet was gaining on him, the Decepticon SIC went as fast as he could to where he was certain he would blow out his thrusters, yet he had to veer over to the side when Skywarp appeared before him via teleportation. He dove upwards, yet found his route blocked by the purple and black Seeker cutting him off via a barrel roll. Starscream went in the opposite direction, yet found himself cut off there as well, Skywarp just barely colliding into him.

“Hey, watch it!!!” he hollered. “You could’ve clipped my vertical stabilizer!!!”

“Then stop flying off and I won’t have to get drastic!” Skywarp shot back, yet inside his alt-mode, he was grinning ear to ear. Or at least he would be if he had any. “Try all you want, I’m not letting up anytime soon!”

“Then you’re going to be doing this for a long time because I have no intention of stop-” Starscream was interrupted by the horrific sight of Skywarp’s body being engulfed with magenta before disappearing from sight.

Oh, Primus. Oh Primus, no! Transforming into his root mode, Starscream looked around, panicking as he found himself surrounded by clear, blue skies, the sun shining high and bright. The intensity of the solar rays blinded him momentarily when he turned in that direction to look for any trace of his pursuer, yet this proved to be a fatal mistake. From beneath, the Seeker was rammed, his subordinate having decided to stay out of his line of sight long enough, and by the time Starscream realized his error, it was too late.

“Aha!!!”Skywarp seized him by the waist and immediately went to work. His servos went in and scrambled along the area he had attacked before, Starscream immediately seizing up and trying to contain the chortles that threatened to spill out of his vocals.

“S-Stop it!!!” Starscream shouted, twisting as much as he could to dislodge himself from the other jet’s hold, yet it seemed that whenever he made a movement, Skywarp just focused on another part of his midsection, the continuous switching of locations making Starscream’s processor be torn between staying still or continuing to writhe around. It was all so confusing and torturous! He was at a loss at what to do! “Stop!!! I-I comma-ha-nd you!!!”

“Hmm...nah.” Skywarp responded, continuing to scramble over the bends and angles of Commander’s midsection.

“I-I’ll kill you!!! Do you hear!? I’ll kill-” Starscream’s voice, unfortunately, chose that time to not cooperate with him. “G-Gah! N-No-hohoho!!! STOP!!!”

“Ah, there you go!” Skywarp congratulated. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Get off!!!” Starscream practically shrieked, both from frustration (and panic), yet also from the sensations that were plaguing his cerebral chamber, sensors lit a fire with horrid tingles and shocks. He only wished that they were of pain. “I-I can’t-'' he then nearly fell out of Skywarp’s arms before he was, unfortunately, caught, the torment continuing. “I can’t stay alo-ha-ft!!!”

“No problem!” Skywarp said, shutting off his thrusters. The two Seekers then began to plummet downwards.

“What in Primus’ name are you doing?! We’ll cra-ah-sh!!!” Starscream hollered, all the while trying to contain himself as Skywarp’s servos still continued to torment him.

As the ground continued to come closer and closer, Starscream braced himself for impact, yet found that it never came, magenta filling his vision before everything around him froze. He wasn’t a stranger to this phenomenon, yet it still perplexed and bewildered him that such an impulsive oaf had such an ability bestowed on him. The times were far and in between, yet whenever it happened, Starscream had gone into the strange dimension between planes of existence with Skywarp when the Seeker teleported both of them. The world looked the same as it had before, yet everything was still and silent. No movement, no sound, nothing. Nothing but their own, as if they were the only things that existed in this small pocket universe.

Then, as quickly as it began, it ended, both Seekers landing on the ground, yet far from at the velocity they were previously traveling at. The landing didn’t mean that Starscream was free, however, the lack of the need to look out below allowed Skywarp to fully focus now on the movements of his servos, which quickly went back to work.

“Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!!!” Starscream commanded, yet he was quickly shut up as giggles threatened to pour out from his vocal processor. He then lifted up his arm in an attempt to, out of desperation, fire his null ray in the other Seeker’s direction, this proved to be yet another fatal error.

Once Skywarp shot his hand underneath to scrape at the cables and joint that linked Starscream’s shoulder and upper arm, he could hold it in no longer.

“Gah!!! Gah-hahahahaha!!!” Starscream released loud and slightly hoarse laughter from his vocals, using his other arm to push back against the other Seeker tickling at his underarm. “S-Stop!!! Stop it!! Sto-hahahaha-p!!!”

“Ha! Gotcha!” Skywarp shouted in triumph, spidering along the red area that rested above his white waist just below the arm joint, this forcing Starscream to retreat into himself and cease his attempts in getting the purple and black Seeker off him. “You’ve got no chance now! Surrender!”

“Hahaha, n-never!!!” Starscream shouted back, trying to turn the opposite way to keep Skywarp away from his side. “Ge-hehehe-t off!!! Get-ah!!!” Skywarp swiped a digit just underneath the area where Starscream’s chest protruded outwards, running the servo along the rim. “Don’t touch me there-AHH!!!”

Skywarp smirked. “Why? Does it tickle?~” he asked oh-so-sweetly. “So you admit you’re ticklish.”

“I admit nothing!!!” Starscream choked in between bouts of involuntary laughter. “I’m not tick-“ he tried to finish but was cut off by more chortles forcing themselves out.

“Then what do you call this? Just a WEE bit of sensitivity?” The purple and black Seeker asked. He stroked and pinched along the SIC’s upper chest region, dipping his hands in the small, square-shaped hollows that rested by his white shoulders, this causing said SIC to try and make another grab at his hands to stop the attack. Unfortunately, Skywarp used this opportunity to dive in under Starscream’s arms and begin scribbling at the joints and cables and whatever other components he could reach. Starscream howled with laughter the moment he felt the wildly moving digits, his arms hugging around himself and clamping themselves down.”Oh great, I’m stuck. Now, what are you gonna do?”

“Wh-Wha-hahaha-t?! You ge-hehe-t them out!!!”

“Can’t exactly do that with you holding my hands down, can I?” Skywarp asked, not letting up in the slightest. “Lift your arms up and I can get free.”

“N-No!!! You’re just gonna-hahaha!!! STOP!!!”

“Hmm...nope.”

Starscream was in, as the humans would say, stitches, his body torn between twisting around and curling up into a ball in a vain attempt to lessen the sensations plaguing him. He knew well that Skywarp would go for the same areas and perhaps others if he lifted up his arms, yet, as he found out, the seams of his underarms were deathly sensitive. It was the equivalent of either having Megatron rip off his limbs versus his fusion cannon blasting him right in the chest. Neither of them was exactly pleasant options. And he didn’t care if he would be called dramatic for making such a comparison! This was torture! He needed this to stop! He HAD to make it stop!

Yet he wouldn’t beg. Not to Skywarp of all mechs. That fool would never get the satisfaction of hearing him grovel for mercy!

And speaking of members of his trine, where in Primus’ name was Thundercracker?! Useless piece of scrap-

“All right, that’s enough!” a voice called out from high above, a blue jet zooming down and transforming, landing a short distance away from his fellow wingmate and Commander. “C’mon, Skywarp, you’re going to kill him.”

“Am not!” Skywarp protested. “I’m just trying to lighten Screamer’s mood here! And from what I’ve seen, my method’s working!

Starscream tried to protest, yet had taken to tightening his lips as much as he could, strained whines coming from in between gritted, grinding dentals. Still, he managed to make out some words (though it was NOT a plea!). “G-Get him off!!! GET HIM OFF!!!”

Thundercracker sighed, crossing his arms. “You heard him. Get off.”

“Aww, do I have to?” Skywarp whined.

“Unless you want a report regarding your insubordination, I’d suggest you do so.”

The purple and black Seeker huffed and begrudgingly stopped moving his hands, Starscream immediately seizing the chance to scramble away, standing up and dusting himself off. Skywarp began to rise as well, yet Starscream pointed one of his cannons in his direction, eyeing his every movement.

“He isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Thundercracker assured.

“I should blast you in the face JUST for what you put me through alone!!!” the Decepticon SIC snarled.

“Hey, I was just trying to get something out of you that wasn’t complaining!” Skywarp countered. “You think you’re the only one that wants to be here on guard duty?”

“I’d much rather be in the company of Megatron at the moment rather than you two!!!”

“Hey, c’mon, that’s enough.” Thundercracker began, trying to cool things down, yet his Commander wasn’t having it.

“I’ve done nothing wrong to even be here!!! I was made Second in Command by Megatron himself!!! And, like it or not, that means I have the full right to question and propose any sort of adjustment or improvement to whatever backward, ridiculous, and foolhardy mission he’s got in mind!!!” Starscream shouted, clenching his blue fists. “And if that’s not enough, he had to stick me with YOU TWO of all bots!!!”

“Hey, c’mon!” Skywarp shot back. “We’re the only ones that can fly besides those damn cone-heads! And Primus knows they won’t put up with your bullshit.”

“I’ve had it up to here with yours!!!” Starscream retorted. “I don’t know why I even continue to allow myself to work with you two!!!” he then pointed to Skywarp. “You are an immature, idiotic thug that has been graced with a power that you clearly do not deserve!!!” he then pointed to Thundercracker. “And you…” Starscream paused. “You...you...well...you didn’t get here fast enough!!! I was under attack by one of my own wingmates, and here you were, lollygagging and taking your sweet time!!!”

Thundercracker was somewhat taken aback. True, this was typical of Starscream, ranting and raving about all the unfairness of the world and how he was slighted by whomever he decided had insulted him, yet the blue Seeker felt a twinge of anger flare up in his spark. “I was TRYING to keep back to make sure you wouldn’t clip a wing or something. You were behaving quite...erratically.”

“That’s no excuse!!!” Starscream countered. “I am your superior, and thus, am your utmost concern!!!”

“I was-”

“No, I’m not done!!!” the other Seeker interrupted. “You know what? You’re just as useless as Skywarp here!!! Only you’ve got no discernable skills or anything spectacular in your arsenal. I lack Skywarp’s little ‘talent’, but I come packed with null rays that can disable and render any machine, Earth or Cybertronian, useless. But you? What, the typical blaster? And such an outdated model too!!! Perhaps even one of the cone-heads would be better suited to be here in comparison to-”

Starscream got out no more before he found himself tackled to the ground. Thundercracker was on top of him and, at a blinding speed, as if in response to the SIC’s remarks regarding his skill and prowess.

“What do you think you’re-” Starscream shouted, yet soon felt his shoulder cannons being removed from his arms. “H-Hey!!! Put those back!!!”

Thundercracker didn’t answer him, continuing his work until his Commander was relieved of his weapons. Then, the blue Seeker delivered a blow to Starscream’s face when the other Decepticon tried to rise. He was disoriented long enough for him to be seized from behind, Thundercracker having ducked his arms underneath Starscream’s own and lifted them up, holding them together with one hand clasping around his wrists, effectively keeping the SIC in place.

“Skywarp,” the blue Seeker began, voice low and emotionless, yet the other members of the trine knew well what such a tone meant when it came to Thundercracker. “He’s all yours.”

Skywarp beamed and made a motion of ‘cracking’ his knuckles (even if he had none). The grin on his face filled Starscream with the utmost dread and fear. “Y-You can’t do this!!!” he protested. “I’m your superior!!!”

“Yes,” Thundercracker responded. “A superior asshole.”

“A superior asshole that’s been getting on my and Cracker’s nerves,” Skywarp said, grinning. Thundercracker despised the nickname the other Seeker had given him, yet at the moment, what was at the forefront of his mind was his Commander’s “disciplinary” session. “And since we’re both done hearing you bitch and moan,” Skywarp raised his servos up, wiggling and making clawing motions with them. “We’re gonna hear you laugh it up instead!”

And then, he went in and continued where he had left off.

Starscream had no chance to brace himself, his focus torn between trying to get Thundercracker off of him and Skywarp’s advances. The purple and black Seeker dove down and traced his servo-tips all over the red and blue Seeker’s chassis, running along the curves and bends, dipping his digits in the vents situated on his chest, and down the midsection where his cockpit was located.

“N-No!!! No-hahahahaha!!! St-Sto-hahaha-p!!! Stop!!! I or-hoho-der you to STOP!!!”

“Not happening.” Skywarp responded, now skittering along the white waist.

“You-hoohoo dare defy an or-hoho-der from your Comma-hahaha-nder!?!”

“If said Commander is being a little bitch, then yes.”

“Th-This is ahahaha-assult on a supe-hehhehe-rior officer!!!”

“Fine then. Stop me.”

Starscream didn’t answer that, knowing well that, despite himself, he was effectively rendered helpless. Thundercracker wasn’t letting him go any time soon, and Skywarp was more than content to keep tickling the ever-living shit out of his Commander. He was completely at their mercy. But he would not surrender. He couldn’t! Not to them! They wouldn’t get one word out of him that was begging for mercy!

At least, that’s what he tried to keep in mind, all the while fighting against said pleas that were forming in his processor.

Skywarp continued to let his servos dance all over Starscream’s upper half, Thundercracker keeping him immobile. The other Seeker’s added weight made struggling difficult and sometimes near impossible, and the maddening sensations made his futile attempts to escape no better. Skywarp had gone for the SIC’s underarms, Starscream’s laughter raising in volume and his struggles increasing, yet Thundercracker held him firm. Skywarp spidered down Starscream’s sides and chest, even tackling the red sections that stood upward on his shoulders. The red and blue Seeker howled with laughter, Thundercracker keeping up his efforts to hold him tight. Despite his current predicament, Starscream could at least take comfort in that the three were clearly alone out here. The only downside to that was that it was Skywarp of all bots doing the torturing! That mech left no inch of his upper body untouched, making sure to give each and every portion of it equal attention. Odd that he would be so precise given how impatient and foolhardy he was.

Having decided that he had explored all he could in that area, the purple and black Seeker shifted his attention to Starscream’s hips, dragging servos along where it connected to his waist and squeezing the sides. The Decepticon SIC continued to release mad cackles from his vocal processor, Skywarp’s servos traveling down to his inner thighs, teasing the joints and cables he could reach. The purple and black Seeker went down the other jet’s legs and reached his knees, swiping servos behind the blocky sections that essentially served as ‘kneecaps’. He even dipped his digits in the vents that rested there.

Starscream was being driven mad, his frantic struggles weakening, though whether it was due to him losing strength or some part of him simply accepting his fate, he was unsure. Regardless, he was reaching his limit and frankly, beginning to lose his mind. “W-Wait!!!” the Seeker got out. “O-hoho-k!!! OK!!! You-hoohoo-’ve had your fun!!! Stop!!!”

“Not yet,” Skywarp said. “I’ve still got a little more of you to tend to.” he then turned to the blue Seeker. “Hold him tight. I gotta feeling this is going to send him over the edge.”

“What do you mean…” Starscream asked, yet trailed off when he saw Skywarp secure his ankles, the undersides of his peds and thrusters completely exposed. Oh no. Oh Primus, no! “W-Wait!!! WAIT!!!” Skywarp and Thundercracker were quite shocked at how loud their captive had gotten, both looking at him with wide, red optics.

Skywarp then smirked. “Oh my,” he glanced at one ped he had in his grasp. “This a particularly sensitive area?” as if to demonstrate, he ran one servo down the length of the side of it, Starscream trembling and straining to keep noises from exiting his throat. “Oh hot damn!” the purple and black Seeker looked to his comrade. “Look at this Cracker! Screamer here’s got sensitive tootsies!”

Tootsies? Was that a human word? Well, whatever. Thundercracker had to strengthen his hold on Starscream, the other Seeker growing even more erratic than before.

“Not there!!!” Starscream finally threw all pride and dignity aside and went to one of his desperate fail-safes: begging. “Please, not there!!! Anywhere but there!!!”

“Why?” Skywarp coyly asked. “Does it tiiiickle~?”

“All right fine!!! Fine, I admit it!!! I’m ticklish, ok!?! There, I said it!!!”

Skywarp stopped his teasing, yet still held Starscream’s ped in his hold. “And?”

“And…” the SIC couldn’t believe he was doing this. Megatron was one thing, but these two? He would NEVER live this down. “And…” he felt a servo place itself on the underside of the ped. “And I’m sorry!!! I’m sorry for everything I said!!! You’re not useless or idiots!!!” Starscream sighed, having gained both of the other jet’s attention. “It’s just...it’s just so frustrating.” He said, lessening his struggles. “Your position means nothing, and whatever contribution you have to give is treated little better than the ramblings of a fool. How nothing you could ever say matters…”

Starscream looked away from both of them for a second, his wingmates quite baffled and confused by what they just heard. True, complaining was one of the hallmarks of their Commander’s personality, yet it was quite a rarity to hear him display such raw honesty with them. It wasn’t a completely alien event, the two having heard these supposedly heartfelt (or in their case, sparkfelt) confessions before, but they were far and in between. Yet whenever they happened, despite their probable better judgment, they listened. And Starscream, even if he didn’t say it outright, acknowledged that they were indeed listening. These moments were always awkward and generally uncomfortable for all three of them, the mood not exactly being positive but oddly calm. And neither Skywarp nor Thundercracker could tell whether these were genuine or not. Their Commander was very much what the humans called a social chameleon. Oh sure, he had his distinguishing traits, yet it seemed that whenever he had to play a certain role (aside from a duplicitous usurper), he usually took it and made it his own. He could have solid strategies and plans, he could be deadly in combat and made use of his airborne advantage well, and when, rarely, Megatron’s plans aligned with his own, he would follow it to a tee. But whether all these were just an act to get what he wanted or a rare display of inner, truthful self (even if partway), neither of the Seekers knew. And in a way, Starscream would probably have it no other way.

Skywarp looked at his partner in crime, then to his victim. “You believe him, Cracker?”

Thundercracker was silent for a moment, Starscream looking up at him with wide, pleading optics. “I don’t know. You know Starscream.”

“Oh, you think so little of me, dear Thundercracker?” The SIC asked, seemingly hurt. “I merely let my own grievances with Megatron affect my sense of professionalism.”

“And?” Skywarp asked. “You sorry for being the King of the Assholes today?”

“King of the...what!?” Starscream began to protest, yet the sensation of Skywarp’s servo kept him in his place. “Yes!!! Yes. Yes, I’m sorry. I apologize. I apologize for everything that’s come from my vocal components.”

The purple and black Seeker looked and Thundercracker and nodded his head. “You know what? I believe him. How about you?” Thundercracker remained silent, yet when his hold was loosening, he noticed Skywarp look at him with a coy, calculating smile. “I think Cracker here forgives you too, Screamer.”

Starscream sighed in relief. “Yes, well...I suppose, as the humans say, to err is, well, human. But to forgive is divine.” He tried to get up, but still, found himself being held tight.

“Hold on there! Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Skywarp said. “I said I forgive you.” He then placed a servo on the underside of Starscream’s ped and dragged it down, noticing how his Commander’s face tensed up. “I didn’t say anything about letting you go. And neither did Cracker.”

Starscream’s red optics widened in terror, his fate had not been changed. “But...but you said that you forgave me!!! You have to release me!!!”

“And we will,” Thundercracker spoke up. “But, it would be bad form to leave Skywarp’s job unfinished, right?”

“Was that an actual joke from you?” Skywarp asked, genuinely surprised. It was just as, perhaps even rarer than Starscream’s “honest” moments, yet once in a while, the blue Seeker showed he was capable of humor, albeit mostly dry, but still, humor. “And yeah. I’ve only got one more place to cover. So I’d suggest you buck up and take the rest of it like a mech!”

Shit, Starscream thought, a part of him surprised that he had used a human curse. Still, the sentence had been delivered. He was doomed. “N-No, wait!!! You don’t understand!!! I can’t take it there!!! It’s too much!!! You’ll drive me crazy!!!

“Hmm...those are all rather bold claims. But you shouldn’t have told me that.” Skywarp said, eager to start his tickling torment up again. “Because now I’m going to have to see it for myself!”

And thus, Skywarp wasted no time in getting started, Starscream having no chance to maintain any semblance of self-control the moment he felt a servo quickly swipe itself back and forth on his ped. The reaction was immediate, Starscream having no chance to try and even contain himself. Skywarp traced down the entire length of the ped, the red and blue Seeker released loud and slightly hoarse laughter from his vocals, he desperately trying to twist his way out of Thundercracker’s grip.

“Skwarp!!!” Starscream hollered. “Ple-heeheehee-se!!! STOP!!!”

“Oh no, Mr. General Dickweed!” the Seeker answered back. “Forgiveness or no, you’ve been in dire need of an attitude adjustment all day today!”

“I sa-hahaha-id I was so-hohoho-rry!!!”

“And you lied to us about being ticklish. Shame on you!” Skywarp teased, continuing to scribble around on the underside of his Commander’s ped.

Starscream was in absolute hysterics, trying with all his remaining power to break free and escape his torment, yet it seemed that his fate was sealed. He was going to have to stay here and endure the continuous, soft, agonizingly light yet maddening sensations Skywarp’s servos created. Eventually, his struggles ceased, no longer having the energy to fight back. Or maybe, somewhere in his processor, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle and simply relented to those that currently had power over him. Skywarp then ceased tickling the peds, yet Starscream had no time to rest. Despite his hopes, pleas, and prayers (he hadn’t really considered himself a religious bot, yet he was singing praises to Primus at that moment in his head), Skywarp had discovered his Commander’s Achilles Heel. Literally.

“PRIMUS, STOP!!!” the SIC shrieked, living up to his name. Out of all the spots that could’ve been at the mercy (or lack thereof) of Skywarp’s servos, he knew well that one would be enough to make him go crazy. “YOU’RE KI-HIHIHIHI-LLING ME!!! I’M DY-HIHIHIHI-ING!!!”

Skywarp scoffed, yet he found this whole thing hilarious, his servos dancing along the lining of and inside Starscream’s thrusters. “Oh please. If anything, this is a spa treatment compared to what you usually get hit with from Megatron.”

“I’D RA-HAHAHAHA-THER TAKE THAT!!! OH PLEASE!!! PLE-HEEHEEHEE-ASE!!! I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE!!!”

Thundercracker glanced down at his captive, taking a look at the Seeker’s ever-present smile he had plastered on his features, yet also of how hot he was beginning to feel how warm he was becoming. His internal systems had steadily been heating up from all the exertion of energy, yet the fact Thundercracker could now feel the heat himself signaled to him that Starscream was truly reaching his breaking point.

“Ok, I think that’s enough.”

Skywarp looked up. “Aw, why?”

“Is your processor malfunctioning? Feel how warm he is!” Hmm, now that he thought about it, Starscream DID feel like he was heating up the further along he went. Still...did he have to? “Skywarp!”

“Ok, ok! Fine!” the purple and black Seeker groaned.

Begrudgingly, he ceased the movement of his servos and raised his hands away from Starscream, who was still caught in the throughs of laughter. Yet after a few moments, said laughter began to soften and decrease, the Seeker resting in Thundercracker’s arms mainly because he couldn’t do much else. Despite there being no need to take in oxygen, Starscream was quite appreciative of its abundance, his vents taking it in and filtering out the heat that had been building up.

“Oh, and here you actually had me...going,” Skywarp said, gesturing to Starscream. “See? He’s fine!” The word ‘concerned’ was about to exit from his lips, yet the Seeker kept them back. Like the Pit he was going to say that. Starscream then glared in Skywarp’s direction. “See? Totally fine. He’s already back to his bitchy self.”

“You…” Starscream huffed, sounding as if he were short of breath despite not needing to breathe. “You think you’re VERY clever, don’t you?”

Skywarp shrugged. “On occasion, I like to think so.”

Starscream only narrowed his optics. “The moment I get my strength back up, your termination will be slow and painful.”

Despite this threat, the Seeker wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. “Yeah right. I stopped believing you after the...what was it, the millionth-and-first time you said that?”

“Well...who’s to say I don’t mean it the millionth-and-second time?” Starscream questioned, beginning to reach for his null rays, yet ultimately, had tired himself out too much to even move from where he was. As the human said, screw it.

“Are you all right?”

The Decepticon SIC looked up at Thundercracker. “Oh, so NOW you care about my wellbeing?”

“I stopped him, didn’t I?” The blue Seeker asked, pointing to Skywarp.

“And you’re also the one that restrained and let him torture me.”

“...touche.” he then began to rise. “Come on. On your feet.” he slowly hoisted his Commander up. “You’re still cooling down, so it’d probably be good to wait for a klik or two before you take to the air.”

Starscream didn’t argue with that, yet he went over to retrieve his arm cannons. Skywarp soon found the Commander’s eyes looking straight at him. Yet still, his cannons didn’t fire, though whether because he was too tired to do anything or he actually didn’t have it in him (at least at the moment), to shoot Skywarp was unknown. Yet the result was the same.

“So...now what?” the purple and black Seeker asked.

“What do you mean, now what?” Thundercracker asked. “We go back to our posts! Slag, we shouldn’t even be out here anyway!”

Starscream dusted himself off, trying to straighten out his appearance. “As soon as this is over, I’m punishing both of you.”

Skywarp mockingly gasped. “Aw, why?”

“Why?! You know slagging good why!!!” Starscream responded. “And by the time I’m done with you, a session with Megatron himself will sound exceptionally pleasant in comparison!!!”

“Oooh, that’s pretty big talk, Screamer.” Skywarp chuckled. “And just how are you going to do it?”

Starscream didn’t exactly care for how close the other Seeker was. “I...I’ll find a way. I’ll find several.”

“Of course, you do realize you’re not the only one with an advantage, you know?” And before Starscream could ask, he felt a poke in his side, the red and blue Seeker recoiling from the touch. “Y’know, I can’t help but wonder how the guys would react to this when I tell them.”

Both Starscream and Thundercracker were taken aback by what Skywarp had just said. “Why would you tell anybody?” Starscream asked.

“Because it’s adorably precious and funny.” The Seeker answered.

“You had better not!!!” Starscream ordered. “Or I’ll make your punishment even worse than Thundercracker’s!!! I’ll…” he then went over and fell at Skywarp’s feet. “Please don’t tell anyone. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Relax, he’s not going to tell,” Thundercracker assured his Commander. “Right, Skywarp?”

Skywarp folded his arms. “Only if Screamer takes back his punishment threats.”

Starscream relented. “Ok, yes. Fine. No discipline. Ok?”

The Seeker smiled. “And since you’re feeling so cooperative, I’ve been meaning to ask you some...stuff.”

Starscream did NOT like the sound of that. “What kind of...stuff??”

“Well, c’mon.” Before he knew it, the Air Commander found his trine-mate’s arm slung around his shoulder as if he were a long-time friend. “We can discuss it on the way back to the space bridge.”

Starscream groaned, not liking where this was going at all.

Thundercracker only looked on, still trying to swallow everything that had happened. Suffice to say, he found himself feeling rather...odd about it. And he could tell Starscream held this sentiment as well. Truly, it sounded unreal: he had just held down their superior while his wingmate tickled him into near insanity. Had he not seen it himself, let alone participated in it, he wouldn’t have believed it. Frankly, he was beginning to feel quite embarrassed about how he had sunk so low to be involved in something so childish, but…

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad!” The blue Seeker heard Skywarp say. “You were smiling the whole time!”

“Yes, against my will!!!!” Starscream retorted, folding his arms and, for lack of a better word, pouting.

“But don’t you feel just a little bit better?”

Starscream’s red optics widened. “No! It-“ had he been human, he would’ve been red as a tomato. Odd how the meatbag’s skin changed at just the slightest amount of extreme emotion. “Hmph!!! Well...I’m not talking to you right now!!! Or in the next few Earth hours. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or-“ he was interrupted by a poke, unprepared to contain the giggle that slipped out. “Do that again, and I WILL blast you this time.” He threatened.

“That makes a millionth-and-three.” Skywarp answered, unfazed.

Thundercracker continued to watch the two Seekers argue and banter with each other, noticing that, even if he would swear to Primus Himself that it wasn’t the case, since his tickling session, Starscream seemed...less irritable?

“Well, maybe that’ll be the lucky number. What’s that human saying again? Third time’s the charm?”

“I don’t think they have plus a million in there though.” Skywarp chuckled, Starscream huffing.

“Shut up.”

Thundercracker could only speculate. One could never tell with Starscream. But from watching him, he had a vague idea of what was going in his processor. And that he’d keep it a secret from everyone.

#transformers #transformers generation one #transformers g1 #starscream #thundercracker #skywarp #seeker trine #g1 seekers #seekers #sensitive #tickle #tickle fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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whittakerjodie · 4 years ago

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Safety (13th Doctor X Reader)

Requested by @supermegapauselouca , prompts 59 and 63 from the prompt list

Words: 1.7k

Authors Note: Hi love, I chose one of your requests as I’m quite busy with the holidays and didn’t want to leave you waiting too long. Thank you to everyone who requested for this batch and I hope you have all enjoyed! Requests will open back up after the special

also, more angst than 13 but she comforts at least! Sorry about that haha.

Warnings: Violence, near-death experience, ANGST

Your heart pounded in the same rhythm as your feet as you sprinted across the pavement. Running was something you’d become accustomed to, travelling on the TARDIS, but this time was different. This wasn’t your usual ‘Run-for-your-life’ scenario. Usually during those you had better chances. Not this time. The sycorax warrior was hot on your tail, far too close for your liking. It would take a miracle to create enough distance to not be as terrified as you were. Several times it lunged for you and you could feel its fingers briefly make contact.

Your own fingers were clenched around a flashdrive, which needed to be inserted into the ship's mainframe to cause a power outage strong enough to shut everything down. It was quite odd technology for the Sycorax, but you were sure the Doctor was defeating whatever other aliens they had teamed up with this time around. She was the one meant to take care of the flash drive business. However, during the chase and all the confusion and panic that came with it, the flash drive had ended up passed around from companion to companion, until the it and the responsibility accompanying it, rested in your hands.

The mainframe was right up ahead, only a few steps- You shoved the flash drive into the socket as soon as you could, nearly knocking yourself out from the impact against the wall. The sycorax warrior decided to take matters into their own hands, tugging at your shoulder and throwing you to the ground. You yelped, trying to kick them away. It didn’t seem to do much; their alien form towered over you, arms poised for the kill. In that moment, you were nothing but prey, without protection, without chance, without hope.

Then the lights went out.

Before you could even register the darkness in your mind, which screamed for you to move, connected with the rest of yourself and you rolled out from underneath the Sycorax. It’s fists collided with the floor, causing it to hiss in pain. While you processed this you continued to urge your body to move faster, but everything was dark. Your hands seemed to slip against the wall, your balance wobbly, unable to find your way to safety. The only thing keeping you going was the idea that there was some mysterious combination you could work your way towards solving that would save your life.

After several minutes of fumbling, you could hear a familiar voice: the Doctor. She was shouting, directing the other companions. It seemed to be getting closer- she was looking for you. The Sycorax was as well, but they too were restricted by the darkness you’d entombed yourself in.

“Y/N!” you heard Yaz shout. Knowing you couldn’t respond without alerting your foe, you did your best to work your way towards her. The Sycorax would follow, you knew, but you were mainly hoping that it would be too late for them to do anything by that point.

Suddenly, it felt like hands were on you. Instinctively you shrieked, jumping back, but more arms caught you. It was your friends.

“Shh, it’s us” Ryan whispered. “That was crazy, what you did, yeah? Totally amazing…”

His voice trailed off in your mind as you felt another pair of arms, this time supporting your wait by shifting it onto her shoulder. The Doctor’s scent filled your nose, and you breathed it in for comfort. Everything seemed much too fluid, the adrenaline that kept you going beginning to crash now that you were in safe hands. Despite the comfort though, it felt wrong. But why? As your friends dragged you off back to the TARDIS, your mind began to recap everything that had just taken place, making notes and critiques- and some uncomfortable realizations.

It had been hours since you’d buried yourself underneath the blankets of your large bed on the TARDIS. There seemed to be more of them- and pillows, too. Almost as if the time machine could sense every branch of distress you seemed to be growing and was determined to cut them off at the root. While she didn’t succeed in doing it, it helped a little to have such a comfortable environment to return to. The air seemed too cold, so you pulled one of the blankets over your head, submerging yourself in darkness.

Suddenly, you were back there. Reaching into the black, trying to make your way through to the other side before you were dragged under. You could still feel the coldness of the wall and could still hear the frustrated growls of the sycorax as they tried to capture you in their claws. Despite knowing such an instance never occurred, you could feel the sycorax succeeding, pulling you backwards and-

You shot up in bed, throwing the blankets off to avoid the scene you’d conjured. That never happened, you asserted. You got away, you saved the day, you’re on the TARDIS, in bed safe and sound. Yet, as you told yourself these things, you couldn’t properly grasp onto the relief and happiness you sought to provide with them. Why not? You saved the day. But at the same time, you’d come within an inch of not doing so.

Mind still in turmoil over the battling emotions, you climbed out of the safety of your bedroom. Perhaps the TARDIS would have more surprises in store for you as you explored. It wasn’t exactly exploring, though. You were searching for someone, which presented another dilemma. You imagined that finding the Doctor to talk to was the best option, as she experienced these near-death situations far more often than any of you. However, one of the other companions seemed like a nice option, too. They were human. Frequent near-death situations or not, they knew what the finality of them actually felt like.

When you reached Yaz’s room, though, you found that she was fast asleep. Knowing Ryan and Graham likely were as well, you sought out your favorite timelord. It wasn’t hard to tell if she was awake or not; you could hear the various clanging and thuds from her activities through the walls. Chuckling a little at the odd noises, you became fully aware of just how heavy your shoulders felt. Even raising your hand to knock on the Doctor’s door hurt.

She answered promptly, grinning. You spotted a multitude of tools and odd metal shapes and pieces all across the room when you cast your eyes downward.

“Y/N! How are you feeling?” She asked, posture shrinking slightly to your level.

“Uh..” Your voice trailed off, blocked by the lump in your throat. Another sign of tension and upset that you hadn't realized in your search for the timelord. It was soon joined by a puddle of tears that began to pool in the corner of both of your eyes. Before any of them could fall, the Doctor’s arms wrapped around you.

Moments later, when she had found you a comfortable spot on the edge of her bed, she asked: “What’s wrong? Is it about what happened today?”

You nodded, inhaling shakily. After wiping your tears away, you managed “I know everything turned out alright, but I can’t help but think about how close I was to... well, not having everything go alright. Now it’s like all I can think about is that possibility, of me failing, and that’s making me think of every other time I came close to-”

“Here, slow down a bit,” The Doctor encouraged. Her hand rubbed your back in comforting circles. You leaned into the touch, and into her, nodding and working on keeping your breathing in check.

“ It’s hard to explain… I’m safe here with you. Everything went okay and everyone’s safe. I know I should be happy…I did well…I always do well…so why can’t I believe in myself?”

The Doctor thought for a moment, considering your words and feelings with great care. You imagined she had to deal with issues like these often, considering how many companions she took on great adventures. But the way she looked at you, you knew there was no repetition or normalcy involved. She was treating your case as if it were its own unique event, working with words that she knew would mean the most to you especially.

She moved from your side onto the floor, kneeling in front of you so she could properly look into your eyes. It felt nice to not have to lift your head to embrace her. You didn’t imagine you could handle the weight of it all.

“I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re so amazing.” She stressed, her hand moving upward to rest against your cheek. If you couldn’t handle the weight, she would take some of it on for you. “We can’t help or avoid those risks and what-ifs that come up when we run like we do. What we can do, though, is tackle what happens after they appear.”

As she continued to talk, she stood from her spot on the floor. Giving you a plethora of tips and good wishes for your recovery from the day's events, she would occasionally pause to squeeze your hand. Then, she began working on the bed behind you. Eventually you turned, curious. The TARDIS had supplied extra pillows and blankets again, all of them lightweight to ensure that you wouldn’t feel trapped.

The Doctor, noticing you were watching, smiled softly. She patted the pillow next to her and you crawled up the mattress, joining her. She pulled you into her arms, wrapping several blankets around you. You surrendered to the warmth.

This time, the darkness was not a frightening what-if but a comforting certainty. There was safety in the Doctor’s arms. Before you allowed yourself to stop running from the darkness, you felt a warm kiss against your forehead to send you off.

#the 13th doctor #13th doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years ago

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The Mandalorian Chapter 14 rewatch thoughts, in which there is much ado about Looking

let’s get the most Look heavy out of the way first lol

- the scene of din holding the silver ball is shot from below, like we often get when we’re in baby’s POV because grogu’s almost always gazing up at him. so the camera/audience is looking at him through the child’s eyes still, in a way, just to emphasize the connection even more. h e l p m e

that firmly established ‘din looks down, baby looks up’ rhythm paying for itself yet again 😭😭😭 also I love the effect that because of the smoke it looks like he’s standing in a serious thunderstorm, while the sky is actually really bright and lit up with only light cloud cover from other angles. it plays into this thing that... this is basically the end of the world for him, and barely anyone else knows or cares. he or the baby never appear in the sequels, din doesn’t have a huge ~*destiny*~ within the Force, his world is so much smaller than what we’re used to in star wars -- his grief at having it come crashing down around him is only a black cloud around him, it doesn’t block out the sun on a galactic scale ala anakin skywalker. he’s not Important. except actually he’s the MOST IMPORTANT, perhaps exactly because of that. (he certainly is to me) y’know? well I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t, I’m not sure I know. but my heart is so full.

- for a good portion of the scene where din is picking through the ashes of the razor crest (;_____________; still not over it) boba is actually looking at fennec looking at din

more precisely he seems to be looking at her while din is looking at the silver ball, and is looking at din and having some kind of Emotion while din finds the beskar spear

hm. I am now exTREMELY curious to know what boba and fennec’s relationship is actually like in more detail. strictly canonically I’m pretty sure there shouldn’t be enough of an age difference that he could sort of be a father figure, but... there’s something here, some parallells being drawn

the shots of them right before din finds the ball is interesting too -- you have fennec looking at din with a pained flinching sort of sympathy

and then she looks down and glances half towards boba like she’s checking in with him out of the corner of her eyes, but she’s not seeking gaze contact at all, she’s not asking him about anything or even initiating contact (it comes across better in motion but this was the best I could do to show it)

presumably they’ve already decided they’re going to help din, from the matter of fact way they inform him about it right afterwards, but there’s something complicated going on here within fennec at least, I think, it makes me want to know more about her backstory. (boba does look at her when he says they’ll help, and he’s trying to meet her eyes even if she doesn’t reciprocate)

and then at the very end of that scene boba is looking at fennec again, and she’s finally meeting his eyes and they both seem pretty satisfied and pleased (I guess doing the right thing has not necessarily figured hugely in either of their careers lol)

sideline but boba has so many excellent Stances in this episode, it’s wonderful. he looks so steady and grounded

- also boba and fennec are close enough that the smoke actually affects their point of view for now and darkens their world too. how’s that for a metaphor for empathy hahaha

- it’s actually quite sweet of boba to take the time to explain his own state of mandalorian-ness to din, like he’s at least eliminating the one source of uncertainty and tension that it’s in his power to remove haha

(I wonder if he’s also gauging din’s reaction to the concept of foundlings? I’ve seen some people theorize that it might not be a recognized tradition across all of mandalorian space (then again... what even is, the only true mandalorian trait is accusing someone else of not being mandalorian right) and that it was one of the apples of cultural discord in the civil wars)

- the whole journey boba’s face goes on as he watches din with the spear... I do not understand what it is exactly but I am OBSESSED with it, his eyes are doing some things and it makes my heart feel funny

he pretty quickly glances away with a sharp inhale of breath that’s some shade of ‘well. fuck.’, but I can’t quite tell you exactly what’s going on there haha

- okay so honestly -- maybe we find a force user to train the baby and maybe we don’t, but not having din be an active part of that training either way would be a fucking CRIME. din clearly just has so much fun being able to engage with him like that, as does the baby, and it gets results. if someone shows up to help with this I hope they have the insight and flexibility to understand that. (listen to baby’s excited squeal and din’s breath of laughter before he encourages ‘come on, you can do it’! it’s consistently the most engaged and happy we see din and baby obviously feels safe doing this with him when he doesn’t with anyone else, come ON)

- the soft soft mando and baby music kicking in when din gives grogu the silver ball back and tells him he’s special T_______T oh my actual god

- I love the way boba’s just... studying din all the way through their first meeting, it’s such a look of cold, dispassionate but not necessarily unkind evaluation. that’s the gaze of a bird of prey or something, it’s perfect (his eyes have softened significantly when looking at din towards the end of the episode, I guess that whole father son situation hit a tender spot huh lol)

- din’s shoulders rise up immediately when fennec starts talking about the bounty on grogu :’)

it also seems he’s a little 😬 about being in such a hurry back in chapter 5 that he missed that she wasn’t actually, y’know, dead haha, he slumps a bit uncomfortably and there’s also the “I owe you one” later on

- oh to have the utter yet unwarranted confidence of this storm trooper behind a minigun, still blasting away as the boulder crushes me

- I want to say something to gideon about what sorts of things a man must be compensating for to take the time to gleefully gloat at AN ACTUAL BABY, but thankfully I’m way too classy for that

- fennec shand using her entire strong but slender sniper’s frame to push that boulder off the cliff... poetry

I love that one pose she does jumping backwards off the stones at one point too, it’s so graceful, she looks like a dancer

- this entire scene of boba fett fucking eliminating storm trooper after storm trooper is doing some stuff to me, I can’t lie

it’s so AWESOME to see a mando interact with their armour in the same natural and expert way as din -- bo katan & co didn’t really have that many surprises and tricks to theirs, it’s more sleekly functional, boba and din’s have a different feeling to them, more personal to them and lived in, in a way (probably because they work alone much more often and need some tricks up their sleeves)

bo katan’s armour is for War and has been for generations, theirs is more just to Live as themselves? does that make any sense?

- I wonder what it feels like for din to try to push through the force barrier - he’s making sounds not just of exertion but with a little bit of pain to it?

- I really like that when boba says “I was aiming for the other one” fennec clearly knows he’s not joking, she doesn’t smile or anything. it makes it feel like they actually know each other quite well at this point

- grogu makes small sleeping baby noises when he’s passed out on top of the stone Y____________Y

- genuinely touched by how much better boba’s armour looks in the next episode, after him having it back for like a week max. LOVE what this show does with the relationship between a mandalorian and their armour and how it’s almost a living thing when it’s with them, and dead when it’s taken away

- the way boba leans forward a little in his seat when he spots the big ship *chef kiss* it so instinctively reads as him watching something dangerous, and after seeing the way he went through all those troopers like a hot knife through butter you fucking KNOW that if he’s unsettled you’re damn well unsettled too haha

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #this is one of those where I'm trying to explain things to myself more than anything haha #anyway boba fett Hot

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spc4eva · 4 years ago

Text

Star-Burned: Chapter Four

Wordcount: 10,570

Rating: M (18+) for smut

Masterlist

Crossposted on AO3

They were burning it. They were burning your farm.

Bound and gagged, you had to watch as the two generations of work was being obliterated at the hands of the Empire. Tears ran down your nose, not noise escaping you as you shook on the ground, heat curling off the back of your neck, sweltering and making you swoon. Sorrow, fear, misery, agony. Your greenhouse, the water vaporators -- so much wasted. What was the point? Why would they just burn it? Destroying evidence. Smoting your existence as if it'd never been there, as if you'd never made memories here and grown up in that house. You didn't have much, but all your holobooks, your stupid rock collection, and your clothes were in there. Most of the clothes were just coveralls, but they were still yours.

It wasn't the material things you sobbed over. No, it was deeper than that. You'd done so many things here and it was all you'd ever known. Now it was ash in the wind, nothing going to remain other than the steel that wasn't burned out, standing as a gloomy sentinel to hint at the atrocity committed. And why? Because you had been kind to someone, healed them, taken care of them... and where was he? He'd said he would be right behind you and now you were beginning to doubt that. What if he'd seen the mess and decided that you weren't worth it? He was still hurt, so you didn't blame him for not wanting to fight five people at once.

Your heart ached, because you thought that... with all that you'd shared, the fact that he'd taken his helmet off... maybe it wasn't that special. Who cared about you? He knew that you were alone and you'd fixed his ship up for him. He was gonna leave and you'd fallen for all his sweet words. Mandalorians killed for a living, he wasn't going to care if you were just another amongst his tally. You had probably been the biggest sucker of them all. Healing him, feeding him, helping him to the fresher, giving him everything you had --- even your body, maybe even a little bit of your heart too. And for what? Fire and death?

"Ready to tell us where he is?" the death trooper bent down in front of you as you wept in the dirt.

"Fuck you," you sniveled. Everything was gone. You gained nothing out of turning him in.

"Maybe later," he stood back up and you shuddered at the thought.

"Hey, looks like we've got movement up ahead."

You jerked your head up, neck aching and cheeks definitely bruised from where you'd been slapped. Narrowing your watering eyes through the smoke you thought you saw... a dewback? What the kriff. The creature rumbled, upset by the fire and smoke, threatening to charge.

"What do we do?" the white stormtroopers were looking for direction.

"Well shoot it!" the black one exclaimed as if it were obvious.

You got to see the truly unimpressive shooting ability of stormtroopers in action. Dewbacks had thick skin, so all they were doing was agitating it. And then -- fire was returned. What!? How was a dewback shooting? How -- oh, it wasn't the dewback. Even through the haze, the opponent shot back with stellar precision, striking down the two troopers to the left before the dewback reared and charged. Trundling forward, the death trooper tried to square off with it before leaping out of the way. White hot flames ignited, followed by a hissing wine as the death trooper was flung several feet back. The dewback hadn't hit it, but someone else had.

Flames beating high behind you, so searing that you thought you were being burned by the inferno, the dark blue armor appeared almost black in the manic illumination. The trooper was back on their feet, blaster in hand as they began pacing circles with the opposing Mandalorian. You were mildly delirious and uncertain if what you saw was actually happening pace for pace.

This wasn’t a normal death trooper. Paz knew it as he matched the strides, ignoring the other two stormtroopers who were trying to deal with the rampaging dewback. He’d heard of this from his sister, that there were Mandalorians who had switched to the Empire’s side to be paid for their work, despite the fact that the Empire had gutted Mandalore and slaughtered many vod. Now, in the feral line of his opponent, he knew instantly that this masked fiend had once been a vod in the precise manner they moved. But he was in dark plastoid, not beskar’gam. And Paz still overstepped him by more than a head.

The smoke continued to churn forward in a dark cloud and he was wasting time while you choked on the ground. He drove forward, the death trooper knocking aside the muzzle of the rifle before it could find him. The pistol flashed in the mad light of the fire, but Paz’s left hand snapped out gripping the arm of the trooper as he fired, the bolt pinging uselessly off his armor. Had he been a second later, it might’ve struck between the protection of his beskar. Before the trooper could disengage with a well planted kick, Paz twisted, the dominant hand of the Imp making a sickening crack. Dancing backward, the trooper grunted and gripped the broken wrist, blaster having fallen from his fingers in the scuffle.

Ripping a vibro-blade out, his bad wrist was pinned to his chest as he levied it. “Are you ready to go to Manda?” the trooper taunted.

Even between the curling fronds of his fury, Paz managed to laugh spitefully. “At least I’ll be going there one day. You’ll never walk amongst those halls, dar’manda. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.” Any Mandalorian who’d chosen the Empire over their own was weak. Paz thought the man in front of him was chuckle worthy as he leveled a blade, as if he’d have the skill to plant it before he was gunned down. He only knew one person who could pose such a threat to him and she loathed the Empire.

The two clashed, your eyes widening as you couldn’t make out between the smoke and carnage. But as you blinked through the bleary wet tears, eyes burning. A blaster bolt went off and you shifted, waiting for the haze to clear just as the other two stormtroopers broke around the edge of the dewback that had started its descent back into the canyon. Stepping through the haze was the dark, non reflective glare of beskar. You were already crying, but the tears were now of unadulterated relief that Paz had won the fight and not the death trooper. With your mouth gagged, you couldn’t warn him about the stormtroopers that were now lining up, taking a knee to begin firing at him.

Only one blaster bolt hit him and it bounced right off of his armor. Turning around, he gave them an unimpressed tilt of his helmet before leveling his pistol. The troopers tried again, but were taken down in a laughable fashion, as if they were stationary targets. Once he gave the scene another hard survey, Paz hurried over to you. "We have to go, Tranyc. We have to go-" he cut the bindings on your wrist and pulled the gag down. You were covered in dirt and soot, tear lines running gashes through the darkness on your face. "Stars, what did they do to you?"

You started crying again as his glove met the side of your sore face. "I-I wouldn't t-tell them-" you sobbed hoarsely. "I-I-I'm scared."

"Shh," he scooped underneath your arms. "Hold on tight. Close your eyes if you need to, but you have to hold on." Pressing you to his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck and clung as best you could, hooking legs to his hips despite the uncomfortable seat of his utility belt. His jetpack ignited again, the source of the white flames you'd seen through the smoke. The ground was spiraling away, your eyes dropping and you felt... nothing. Just watching the farm become a quavering light in the night, like a single candle's flame across a remote landscape.

He landed by the Kote, your limbs shaking from exhaustion and being utterly overwhelmed by the most action you'd ever seen in your decades. Wrapping both arms around you, he hurried into the ship, didn't deposit you, but took you up into the cockpit before starting the ship. Flipping switches, the engines starting, and continuing his ministrations as you pressed your face into the cowl of his cloak, trying to dab your tears that kept coming. He had come for you. All that doubt and he had come to save you. You didn't know if you should be happy or upset. He'd come too late to save your home, but he'd come.

Paz guided the ship out of the canyons and upward, breaking atmo without an afterthought. His skin was hot, rolling with primal fury as you clung to him, crying softly into the fabric of his flight suit. You'd done nothing to deserve this. But he couldn't stop right now. Not until the two of you were in hyperspace. It had taken the Empire weeks to catch up with him, but they'd managed to do it. Fuel was low, he'd need to make a pitstop and Tatooine was grudgingly close. Maker dammit, that was the last place he wanted to go. He charted the navigation and punched the hyperdrive. Fuel was fuel. That's all he'd stop for.

"Tranyc?" he entreated gently, prying you off enough that he could get a look at your soot stained face. He tried to rub some off, which made you flinch. No, that wasn't soot -- deep purple bruises were on your cheeks from where you'd been struck repeatedly. Your eyes were wet and red, but you had a thousand yard stare, the shock of what had occurred glazing you over completely. "Darling, look at me."

You finally blinked, a few tear drops cascading as you glanced up toward his visor. The troopers had done this to you because of him. There was no other reason they would’ve bothered a farmer or beaten them. Not without orders to conduct interrogations. And you had defended him. People’s resolve crumbled for less, especially when their entire livelihood was on the line. Paz already hated the Empire for everything they’d taken, but the fire was rekindled anew. He was livid, looking down at your wet, bruised face, shame and guilt overwhelming him as he hadn’t gotten there soon enough to protect you. Just after promising you that you were safe with him, he’d let you walk into a den of wolves.

"I'm so sorry. I should have been there sooner-"

"Where were you? I-I thought you weren't coming," your voice broke and your lips trembled. "I thought you'd left."

Hearing those words broke his heart, but how could he blame you? Paz hadn't realized anything was wrong, never thought it until he'd spent the better part of his day picking up around the ship, taking a shower, and running a few checks on the engine before stepping outside and noticing a hellish glow emanating from the upper echelons of the canyon. Smoothing your curls, he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd lost them, I never thought they'd find me out here, let alone go after you. I should have been there. I should have never left you."

You nodded slowly and pressed your cheek against the beskar chestplate, the cold metal soothing to your ailing skin. What were you going to do now? Everything you'd owned was gone. "Why were they following you? You never gave me a straight answer, but I didn't think to go poking around..."

"The Imps attacked my covert after I helped one of my brothers escape with a baby that they wanted. Don't know much other than that, but I was one of few who escaped and they must think I know where said brother is," Paz explained. "Whatever they want with that child, it's part of something much bigger than I ever thought."

"One of those troopers... the black one... he said he was Mandalorian. But... he doesn't look like you," you pointed out.

"He was dar'manda. Maybe he was Mandalorian, raised that way, but he forsook his people to become a death trooper. Many death troopers are dar'manda. Looking for the easiest path with the least resistance, betraying our ways to make credits and be on the right side of the law."

"It's not the right side anyone. The New Republic rules now."

"Where was the New Republic when the Imps attacked you?"

You didn't have an answer, instead you sighed and closed your eyes. "It's all gone," you warbled miserably. Even innocent Jumbles was gone. "W-where do I even begin? I don't know anything about the galaxy. Just home. How to farm and stuff-" Your chest felt as if you'd taken a full on sucker punch and you whimpered in discontent.

"You can stay here. With me, Tranyc. As long as you need..." he drawled off. This wasn't how he'd wanted to convince you to come with him. He'd wanted it to be a choice, not because everything had been ripped out of your hands. "I won't leave you again. Not unless you ask me to. I promise.”

You had somewhere to stay and a person to take care of you. That felt like such a foreign concept. For so many years you'd taken care of yourself, carrying the burden of you solitude, and tending to your animals. The idea was queer, confusing, and in your mental state it made you scowl, mind filled with a thick fog that you couldn't see through. You had wanted to spend more time with him and part of you had also wanted to see other planets. Maybe one day you would have asked him to take you, once you had a better solution for the farm in the meantime, but it was gone. You were here now, leaving your dustball planet for the first time in your life and that petrified you. Because as much as you rolled with the punches in your day to day life, this amount of change was overwhelming.

Paz could tell you were on the brink of passing out from a combination of exhaustion and mental distress. Aside from going to your home planet when you were young, he doubted you'd been off of it since.

"I-" you started up again, trying to formulate your thoughts, but the ideas were evading you, running too far ahead for you to catch up and speak. "-don't want to be a burden."

Burden? You were worried about being a burden? Paz's lips tightened underneath his helmet and he stifled a sigh, rubbing circles on your lower back with his palm as he sank into the seat. "What do you want, mesh'la?"

You didn't know right now. Your wounds were still too fresh and deep to make a decision like that. It was such a broad question and honestly, too much for you to handle in that moment. "C-can I help you?" He had just saved your life. In that second, you'd entirely forgotten that you had done the same for him and that technically, this should have made you even. But you were accustomed to working all your life and without that rock solid foundation of regiment you found yourself losing more grip on reality. You couldn't just pitter around the ship or you'd find ways of letting the churning maelstrom of your darkest thoughts beginning to smother you. "Can't fight, b-but maybe I can do things? B-be your mechanic or somethin'?"

Work. You were asking to be put to work. The first bit of direction. You craved it. Everything except for the Mandalorian had come crashing down spectacularly and you were trying to find the first piece to begin rebuilding your foundation on. Work was the most logical place to start. Because you had to work for a living, to survive, and it wouldn't be any different because you were on a ship now. You needed a job for your own sanity.

"I could use a mechanic," Paz revealed, which made you perk up hopefully. "You said the Kote still needs some work. I can make that your job."

Your head was bobbing enthusiastically, hyperfocusing on the distraction from the trauma you'd just endured. Rapidly, you began considering what you remember being on the ship and what you'd require to be capable enough to fix it. "I'd need supplies," you comment, chewing your lip and paling as you realized you needed more than just work equipment. You had lost everything. "A-and stuff."

"Mm," he hummed in agreement, continuing to pet your hair. The sensation was soothing and you melted back against the cool beskar as you rattled out a long exhale. "We'll take care of everything. Maybe not on Tatooine. We'll need to make another stop on a more suitable planet after we fuel up. Why don't you make a list before we arrive?"

A list. You could manage that, but not right now. You didn't want to move right now. Sitting on a man clad in full armor shouldn't have been comfortable, but it was. And you were absolutely drained, face aching, and lungs burning from the smoke inhalation. "Ok," you mumble, clinging onto your Mandalorian as he rubbed you. You were lulled to sleep by the rise and fall of his chest, swaying gently like the rocking of a boat on the ocean, reminded once again that you were safe. As long as he was around, you were safe.

---

He put you to sleep again and when you woke up, you were in one of his oversized shirts. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced around the chamber before getting up. It was cold. Why was it so cold? You grabbed the fluffiest blanket and drew it around your shoulders as you left the captain's quarters behind and stepped out into the hull. Mentally, you had it together a little bit better now, but with that came a soul crushing headache. You were thankful that the ship wasn't brightly lit, mostly just a few amber lights here and there that cast a dim ambiance across the shed.

You wouldn't call it a kitchenette, because that's not what was beside the table. It was more like a flip down hotpad, a caf machine inlaid on the side, a nozzle for potable water, and a little disposal unit for any trash. From helping rearrange the ship, you knew that the nearest drawers contained rations. Which at best, were meh. They were relatively tasteless ways of gaining the nutrients you needed. Sure, they came in flavors but mostly that was savory or sweet. The differences between something like chocolate or peanut butter were almost negligible.

You sat down, not really certain where you were going, but you plopped down on a pillow and just stared at the durasteel table. So... this was it now. You were the mechanic for a Mandalorian with nowhere else to go. You knew the other farmers around your home planet, but asking for boarding seemed like an incredibly ludicrous and cumbersome thing to do. You also didn't know if the Empire would attack your neighbors after what had happened on the farm if you tried to stay on planet. It was safer for everyone if you left.

Funny, you had wanted to have more time with him and your kriffing wish came true. Now you wouldn't be lonely! Your stomach rebelled at your poor attempt to be wry. This was not Paz's fault. From the sound of it, he had been helping his brother escape the Empire and your father had told you before that the Empire never needed a good reason to do terrible things. You'd brushed it off, believing that your dad was just being overdramatic. No one could be that awful. Right?

But they were and now you felt hopelessly adrift amongst an ocean of things you didn't know. You thought you knew how people reacted, but then again you'd only ever met nice people until the stormtroopers. You knew Tatooine was a skug hole. You knew that there was Hutt activity and slave trading there. See, you knew a great many things from reading and watching galactic news, but you'd never experienced any of it first hand.

Paz will protect you.

The very thought made you inhale and exhale at a normal pace. You rubbed your face, cheeks still stinging from where the death trooper had slapped you around. Slapped. Not punched, not kicked. He'd slapped you around and you'd been bruised pretty badly.

"Oh, you're awake," Paz stepped out of the cockpit with a datapad in his hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired still," you reveal wearily. "But it's more... mental."

He trotted over, sitting down beside you and pulling you into a warm embrace. Maker you had needed that, just the confirmation that you weren't alone through this. No words were needed. The display of comfort, his powerful arms carefully encircling you and hiding you from the galaxy... You sighed and pressed into him, uncertain why the small gesture was bringing you to tears. "Talk to me when you need to," he offered softly.

"I like this," you tell him, preferring the way he shielded you and the heat of his body chased away the cold. Oh, the cold. "Why is it freezing on this ship?"

"Hm?" he loosened his grip enough so that you could glance up at him. The two of you were close enough that you could kiss his helmet if you wanted to. "We're in hyperspace. Space itself is quite a bit colder than your home planet. Are you cold?"

You gave glance at your blanket, arching a brow at him to make a point. The silly twist of your lips made him laugh. "You're not cold?"

"No, but I'm used to this," Paz returned and you comprehended a little better. He was dressed from head to toe and had the additional layer of his beskar.

"You are warm," you grumble, pressing your face into the fabric of his flight suit. He was big, warm, and totally cuddlable and honestly, you were kind of a greedy bitch for his cuddles. The first taste you'd gotten nearly a week ago had set you up for disaster. At least all the tears you had spilled hadn't been over him leaving and one good thing had come out of all of this. But... you were working for him now. What did that mean for the two of you? Well, you were nearly on his lap right now, so clearly there wasn't too much to worry about, but you wondered if there were any logistics you should worry about. "And quite a bit? It never gets this cold in the canyons. Maybe not as hot as Tatooine, but we still orbited around two suns."

How the heck could a planet be so warm, but the space from one to another was this cold? You weren't an expert on planet stuff, just like you weren't a medic. Seems you had a lot to learn. "Tatooine," he muttered, fingers tightening around you subconsciously at the thought. "We just need fuel and then I plan to leave that awful place."

"I know the Hutts used to be pretty active there before the war. What's so awful about it?" you inquire curiously.

"You might not mind the climate, but it is very hot and dry there. And even with the fall of the Hutt syndicate, there's still remnant activity, slavers, and the overall atmosphere of the planet hasn't shifted much in light of the turn over to the New Republic. It's too far and not much worthwhile for them to chance coming out here just yet," Paz elaborated.

"Wow there's still slavers?" Again, another foreign concept to you. Of course you knew what slaves were, but you couldn't understand how people could do that. How they could treat someone as if they were dirt, less and baser than an animal.

"Not just on Tatooine. There are other places that still allow slavery. Technically, the New Republic has their own form of slavery for criminals. Most have to work in indentured servitude to pay off their crimes."

"But that's... different," paying off crimes and debts in exchange for hard labor seemed fair. Not being held against your will for being unlucky. "Are you wanted by the New Republic?"

"Don't think so," he shrugged. "I try to keep my bucket out of anything that has to deal with them. Fortunately for us, it's only the Empire."

"Yeah, fortunately," you drawl sarcastically, rolling your eyes, but his words make you smile. "So... what are we going to do once we fuel up?"

Paz had a good amount of time to consider this while you were resting. He had been contemplating his course of action and knew that returning to the covert might not be the best idea until the activity with the Empire had settled down. "I know a Guild Master on Dadrus," he began slowly. "The ship costs a decent amount to keep running. Until we're certain that the Empire isn't tailing us, we can't stay in one place for too long. My original plan was to return to my Tribe."

He had very briefly mentioned his people to you and part of you expected the secrecy surrounding them was for their own protection. But now... you felt as if you could ask. "What's it like... with you Tribe?"

"Comfortable. Home," he sighed wistfully.

Immediately your thoughts hitched and you stiffened. You'd not thought to ask it, but now you were really thinking about it. "Uhm... y-you don't have an-nyone-" Anyone that might be waiting for him like a partner or a wife. Would he have slept with you if that were the case? Honestly, you didn't know how Mandalorian culture worked and if that was allowed.

"Aside from the Foundlings that haunt my every step like an army of ghosts, no, mesh'la," he purred. "It's been a while for me too."

That was hard to believe given how dexterous and experienced he was in that field. But his words relaxed you, glad that you weren't homewrecking or expecting to stand toe to toe with another lover. You still didn't know what this was, but maybe it didn't need a tangible name or label. You were content in his arms right now. "So children like you?" You assumed that's what Foundlings were, sounded a lot like Younglings and your father used to refer to children -- of all races and species -- as Younglings.

Wasn't hard for you to imagine why children might like Paz. He was patient, a good teacher, and gentle when he needed to be. But he was also strong and... you thought back to how easy he'd made the fight between the five Imps look. The very death trooper that you'd been unable to writhe free from, he'd kicked to the ground using his jetpack as propulsion. Stormtroopers weren't known for the prowess in battle, but it had been more than you could handle. Easy enough for a Mandalorian.

"Well..." he pittered off, as if bragging a little bit was not suited for him. "I teach the Foundlings, so they are keen on me."

"I can see that," you murmur against his shoulder. "You're a very good teacher."

"You're just saying that."

"No, you were very thorough."

"Helps that you're an attentive student," he rumbled, pressing his helmet into the side of your face, the same type of kiss that he'd done before.

"You should teach me more... sometime," you suggest. "I'm a pretty poor shot and if I'm going to be running around with you, I should probably know how to shoot a blaster."

"Yes," his voice was quiet, barely picked up by the vocoder, crackling with static. "You should know how to shoot."

"I bet I'll get the hang of it in no time with you as my teacher," you gave him a big smile, earnest and bright. While you said these words, you also highly doubted it. Given how well you'd reacted in the face of danger last time, you knew you were just as likely to shoot yourself with a blaster as it fumbled through your sweaty fingers than actually be able to point it at someone with the intention of killing. But you liked the way he taught and it would give you more reason to steal his time over something he was very knowledgeable in. And... your intentions weren't completely innocent. You knew that subject was a bit of a turn on for him.

"Here," he cleared his throat, trying to blink away the haze of arousal that had blindsided him as your sweet smile. "Use this to draft up a list of what you need. After Tatooine I was thinking of bringing us to a supply stop before going to Dadrus."

"Where we going?" you inquired as you took the datapad. Maker, you were going to need everything. From toiletries, to clothes and underwear, shoes, proper attire that would keep you from freezing your tits off on this ship. Then there was also the question of how many tools you'd need.

"Dadrus is on the other side of the Outer Rim from here. I was thinking Gala would make a good stop before we arrive on Dadrus," at your clueless look, he continued. "It's a wealthy planet and under the rule of the Republic. There should be plenty of supplies and we shouldn't run into any issues while there. The Empire wouldn't show face on Gala."

"Why wouldn't we just wait on a planet that is governed by the New Republic then?" You point out.

"I'll attract unnecessary attention."

You hadn't thought of that. Mandalorians were not a dime a dozen and on a safe planet, people might grow incredibly wary of his linger presence. The New Republic may even question his intentions. They were typically bounty hunters, so it didn't make much sense for one to stick around in one place for a long time. "So... what if we go between planets that are New Republic?"

"Because the ship costs credits to run," he reminded you gently.

Ah, right and these planets weren't just going to top off the ship with fuel and supplies. Frowning slightly, you chewed your lip and nodded. Damn, there really was no easy way to manage this. You suppressed a sigh, turning your attention back to the datapad as you began drafted up what you'd need. "We should get real food too," you said out loud, not realizing that you might be rude in saying that. "I-I can cook it."

"I do like your food," Paz contemplated before nodding. A warm cozy feeling settled into your stomach at the compliment. "We might be able to find some salvageable food on Tatooine. It's going to take the better part of a fortnight to reach Gala once we leave the sector."

"Wow? Really?" You had no concept of space travel.

"Gala is hundreds of thousands of light years away. Requires navigating through a few different hyperlanes to get there. Even Tatooine takes the better part of a day to get to from your planet."

"Then we must almost be there," you realized.

"Few more hours," he confirmed. "Here, you should put a little more of this on. I applied it when you were sleeping for your cheeks-" he picked up a bottle on the table, which appeared to be a bacta lotion. You hadn't looked in a mirror since waking up... or since you'd taken a shower a couple days ago. But you didn't feel grimy, so you wondered if Paz had cleaned the soot and dirt off of you while you were a limp noodle. Accepting the bottle, you stood up, immediately feeling the cold of the ship press back around you as you headed over to the fresher to assess the damage.

Flicking the switch on, you had been correct in your assumptions. The ash was gone from your face and the blackened bruising had faded to a sickly yellow. Your cheeks were still raw, but the lotion had done a swift job of erasing the trauma. Still, your eyes were a bit puffy from all the crying you'd done, nose tinged red as if you had a cold. You felt like a kriffing mess, clutching that bottle and staring at yourself for a few long moments, finally blinking and shattering the spell that held you. Just put your foot forward as you'd done everyday on the farm. This was life now and you just had to accept the hand that fate had dealt you. Even if you were afraid, naive, and felt completely unprepared to start exploring the galaxy, you had Paz beside you and he knew what he was doing. He promised he'd never let anyone hurt you and you believed him. Not just because you were too kindhearted and gullible, but because he'd saved you and took care of you.

Opening the bottle, you lathered your cheeks, the tingling sensation tracing electricity over the bruises and numbing them. You distracted yourself by putting a little too much on, creating big circles of white on your cheeks, making a few faces in the mirror, earning yourself a giggle at how stupid you looked. Shooting. Paz was going to take your dopey ass shooting. Taking your elastic band off your wrist, you put it on your index finger and thumb, cocking it like a gun. Maybe you wouldn't be half bad with a professional guiding you. You made a bam motion in the mirror and the scrunchie flew off, ricocheting off the mirror and slapping you in the forehead. It didn't hurt, but you stumbled a few paces back in surprise. Crap, if that was any indication on how shit of a shot you were, Paz was in for a long day at the range.

---

Tatooine was hot. Way hotter than home. Like ten times hotter than home. Holy shit, why did Paz think you'd like this place? You could feel the suns glaring down at you with the full intention of giving you a sunburn. You'd not gotten a sunburn in years. Usually only your face and arms were bared, so you definitely had one heck of a farmer's tan, but you were feeling it coming on now with each second you stood roasting like bantha meat on a spit. Your hair was probably the worst thing about all of this. You tried to find a way to finagle it, because it was getting sweaty and damp on the back of your neck, but you only had one scrunchie and that was not enough to tie all that fluff into a bun.

So you suffered, flanking Paz as you started down the sand swept streets of Tatooine. People here dressed similarly to back home in robes in earthtones. There was a lot of haggling, bustling, and activity. What you picked up on immediately was the fact that people parted easily for you. Well, not for you, but for the Mandalorian. No one wanted to touch him as if they were afraid that he'd burn them if they so much as brushed by. He kept you close, hand hovering protectively by the small of your back, almost holding onto your belt. You weren't going to wander away, but you were very curious about everything around you with your eyes stretched wide.

You hadn't seen many other races aside from humans and Jawas, so getting to see Toydarians, Rodians, Dugs, and a motley of aliens was an absolute delight. Maybe Paz did need to hold onto you, because your legs had a mind of their own and you had never feared for walking somewhere unsafe before.

"Nope, this way," Paz guided you from the direction you had started to list toward, which was a shop of junk, mostly salvaged droids and parts. Not any of the more reasonable places on the strip that had things you might actually need.

"Where are we going? Is it inside? It's hot."

How was he not overheating in all that clothing? Did beskar have some secret high tech that allowed for him not to sweat his balls off? Hmm, you didn't think so, but also didn't know why he wasn't complaining.

"We're going to the range. The stations are in the shade," he told you, which was somewhat of a relief. The range? Thinking back to your battle with the scrunchie you grimaced a little. Dear Maker, you prayed, please, please, please don't let you make a fool of yourself. "Fueling up takes a few hours and there will be a delivery of food too. So we have a little time to kill."

The range was outdoors made up of several lanes with targets. Controls were situated in each booth, allowing for the targets to be turned on to create popup simulations. There was a mild bit of activity on site, a few other shooters amongst the two dozen lanes. The worker for the range gave Paz a dubious look, which made you giggle. Almost as if to say 'Why in the Maker's name do you need to practice?' But you two were assigned the middle lane labeled 12.

"Now, you know basic gun safety, right?" he set his blaster on the shelf in front of him, which met the top of his thighs and was tummy high for you.

"Keep the weapon pointed away from anything you don't intend on shooting. Finger off the trigger until you're about to shoot," you recalled those very basic lessons from your father. "Weapon on safe until you intend to fire. Treat every blaster as if it's loaded."

"Good," he nodded, making you smile slightly. At least you weren't an absolute idiot. "We'll start with closer targets-" he pressed the range controls, turning up the popups at 25 meters. "I need to get a better idea of your form. So go ahead and take the pistol and fire."

Now you were smiling nervously, reaching over to where the pistol that you'd taken apart the other night was. It was heavy and too big for you. He had mentioned that it was custom built for him and he was more than double your size. Finding the most comfortable way to hold it, you held your arms out, fumbled the safety, and then scrunched up your face as you tried to aim. Pulling the trigger, the blaster shot made you jolt, elbows bucking and blaster smacking you right in the face.

Paz caught your arms before you could do anymore damage, setting the pistol back down on the counter. "Let me see-" he tilted your head up, pulling down the hands that had automatically went to where you'd yammed yourself.

"Did I hit it?" you garbled, having not been looking. Oh stars, you'd closed your eyes when you shot at it, hadn't you?

Paz was quiet, confirming your suspicions. His thumb brushed the tiny bit of ripped skin where you'd taken the blaster, but you weren't bleeding. "You locked your arms out, which caused them to buck with the recoil. You're too tense. And... you should keep both eyes open."

You knew that, but your body had reacted on its own and you'd ended up getting hurt in the process. Huffing, you glared back out at the target that you'd whiffed. "What should I do differently?"

"Watch me first," he instructed, picking up the blaster and pressed the range controls to allow for the targets to move in their popup rotation. His arms were not locked out and his stance was wide, supportive, and straight aside from the tiniest lean forward. The first target popped up and his finger was on the trigger, squeezing and hitting square on center mass. The target fell down in defeat, his shoulders turning as one further out popped up. One by one, he took them down, your eyes tracing between him, his form, and then the successful quick shot that he rained down on them with expert precision. His breathing was controlled and he wasn't tense. He was acting as natural as if he were sitting up in the cockpit or relaxing. He was Mandalorian and weapons were his religion, so of course he'd not exert any effort in a skill that was as mundane as walking or breathing.

He reached and swapped the cartridge out before resting the pistol on the counter.

"Now tell me what you observed."

"You had a wider stance, relaxed, easy breathing... and you weren't afraid of it."

"You're afraid of the pistol?"

"I mean it did come back at me like I insulted its mother, so yeah," you admit sheepishly.

"My breathing was controlled, but it may have looked natural to you," he began explaining breathing cycles and how it was important to shoot at either the top or bottom of your breath. Experts could without adhering to the guidelines, but beginners who weren't familiar with bolt pathing needed the extra stability with their sight pictures. Everything sounded so logical and simple, but putting that to practice wasn't as easy as wiring and programming. Usually those things couldn't kill you.

After running down bullet pathing, trajectory, and math - you liked the math aspect - Paz had the pistol back in your hand. It was a tool. It didn't have emotions, you did. But that didn't change the fact that it made you nervous. You tried applying what he told you, but your arms were shaking as you held the pistol out and you were still jumpy. You fired at the 25 meter target and hit the sandy burm beneath it.

"That was better," he encouraged, but it didn't feel that way. "Here, I'm going to help adjust you-" he came up behind you, utility belt brushing up against your back as he clasped onto your wrists. "Relax, mesh'la. Relax," he eased, guiding your arms out from their rigid position. The back of his cuirass met you and for the briefest moment, you did relax completely. His soothing deep voice filled your ears, rumbling like the earth being shaken by thunder in the wet season. Then you remembered you were on the range and started to panic again. "Now both eyes open. Slow controlled breathing. Go for the bottom of your breath, when your shoulders are down rather than the top when you're naturally more tense."

Following the instructions, you narrowed your eyes at the target, promising to give it a piece of your mind as he helped steady you. You sort of imagined that the target had a clever quip about kissing it's ass or something stupid, but your finger brushed the trigger and you fired. For the first time since starting, you hit it. Not center mass, but enough to the side that it caused the target to fall down in mock defeat.

"There you go! Good job!"

You were beaming, absolutely splitting the biggest smile since leaving your home planet. You envisioned yourself as somewhat of a sharpshooter now, wondering how soon it'd be before you were the quickest draw on Tatooine. Ok, admittedly you were getting ahead of yourself with your dumb daydreams, but you were so ecstatic that you'd actually kriffing hit it. Leaning back, you craned your head up to look at him. "That was me? You weren't helping?"

"I wasn't helping you aim," Paz assured you. "Do you think you can try a little further? Without me holding your arms up?"

Try? Sure you could try. You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. "But can you... stay there?" It felt nice having him right behind you, making certain you didn't hit yourself in the face again.

"I can stay," Paz agreed, which caused your shoulders to relax immediately as he lowered his own hands and moved them to your hips. Oh, stars you liked that so much better. A pod of butterflies erupted in your stomach as he pressed the next set of targets and you had to focus on them. But at this point you were just focusing on him and the nice cool press of the beskar against the inside of your back, chasing away the bitter hottest of Tatooine. You shifted your weight as you went to aim for the first and closest target, grinding into him more than intended.

Paz kept a close eye on how you were lining up your shot, suppressing a huff as you leaned into him. You were inexperienced and green, but he'd taught Foundlings how to shoot for their first time too. But you weren't a Foundling or a child, and so when you pressed into him the codpiece pushing into his groin, he felt a rush of hot white desire as you fired again, missing the target, but undaunted. You tried again and grazed it before making the next attempt at a further target. The pistol was too big for you, he knew that, but he didn't have anything smaller. With the right amount of practice, he knew you could shape up. You weren't a natural and that was fine, he didn't want you to have to use these skills, they were just a safety measure.

But there was a baser hunger in him that was stirred as you applied yourself, the huffing of air as you tried to blow a few stray, sweaty curls out of your face, the absolute focus you'd come under when you were really applying yourself. You'd looked much the same while working on the ship, but this time it was in his field of expertise. Shooting was just... shooting. He didn't derive any excitement from doing well, which he always did. Practice like this was more of a waste of ammo than beneficial at this point. However, when he watched you, there was a thrill in observing you get better, get more familiar with the weight of blaster, and your valiant attempts to not be daunted by the fact that you probably only hit the target once out of every four shots.

And you were flush against him. Each tiny movement from your breathing to the way you shifted your arms, he could feel it.

"I think," he started carefully as the trigger clicked, indicating that the cartridge was spent. "That it's time to go."

"Hm?" you glanced up, pinning him with those big eyes.

"Time to go," Paz repeated again, voice hoarse and staticky as it came out of the vocoder.

"Already?"

He smiled at your enthusiasm, wondering if you'd caught the husk in his tone or the breathy edge. You couldn't feel him, he had a codpiece on, but he wanted to leave -- now. "C'mon mesh'la, let's go-" he brushed some of the scattered curls out of your face tenderly, despite the beast threatening to overwhelm him in that moment. Maker, why were you so pretty? He was careful not to be pushy as you handed over the pistol and he reloaded it with a swift click, jerking it down into his holster. Placing a hand at the base of your elbow, he began whisking you away, his own open strides too large for you as you struggled to keep up.

His eyes snapped upward, helmet tilting as he felt a growl rise in the back of his throat. He had intended on beelining for the ship, but he noticed something -- rather someone and had to readjust his pathing. Nearly picking you up, he dragged you over into an alley, causing you to yelp in surprise. "W-w-what's going on?"

"Old friends," he muttered, glancing back out toward the road before continuing further down the alley.

"Friends? You don't sound very friendly," you observed as he held your hand, bringing you deeper into the labyrinths between the main street.

"Ok, they're not friends," Paz admits, pausing around a corner and letting out a deep exhale. "They didn't see us." At least, he didn't think they had before he darted down the alley. He felt incredibly hot, not just because of the dual suns of Tatooine, but because of how dolefully you stood in front of him, looking for guidance, imploring him. "Mesh'la-" he groaned, crowding you against the wall. "I wanted to go back to the ship." Now he was just complaining. It wasn't your fault.

"We'll get there eventually, won't we?" you point out brightly.

"But that's not-" he pressed his helmet against the wall in aggravation. "Mesh'la?" He brought his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. You were dewy, a little sweaty from the heat, but all smiles and sunshine. He dragged the pad of his gloved thumb over your lips, tracking the lower down. "Fuck."

Now you were beginning to comprehend why Paz had wanted to get back to the ship and your cheeks began to flush as if the sun really had burned you. You let out a soft breath, staring up into his visor as you were pressed against the wall of a building, boxed in by his impressive form. You knew that you got aroused from teaching you about weapons, but in your own little world, you'd not remembered until now and his insistence to get the heck out of the range. Now you were waiting for the coast to be clear in a dirty alleyway and your own legs were beginning to tremble as a surge of heat -- not from the climate -- rocked your knees.

"P-Paz?" you're stammering, eyes half lidded as he traces his thumb down your chin and against your throat. You weren't really going to...? Not in an alley? Where could anyone see you? Your heart picked up a few beats, ears rushing with the sound of your pulse at the dizzying idea of him taking you in the alley where someone could walk in on the Mandalorian fucking you. Why was that exciting? Oh Maker, that should not have been half as exciting as it was. You should have felt dirty and ashamed by these thoughts as your hand planted against his cuirass, throat bobbing against his fingers as you wondered what was about to happen.

"Do you want it?" he muttered.

You were in your coveralls, not exactly the best article of clothing for a tryst in the alley. But you nodded, chewing on your lower lip. "I... always do."

"Mesh'la," he growled plaintively. "You can't say things like that to me."

"Why?"

"Because I won't be able to control myself."

"I know you'd never hurt me."

"Hey!"

The voice caused the both of you to jolt, necks snapping in the direction of a gesticulating hand. "Fuck. Time to go," Paz grabbed you, hoisting you up like a child, your chest colliding with his pauldron. Air bursting from your lungs, he was running beneath you, blaster in his other hand, arm encircling you from under your ass as he made a mad dash through the alleys. You were wondering why he didn't just use his jetpack. If he did that, everyone would see the two of you.

He was fast, charging through the side streets like the dewback on your home planet. The two of you were back at the hangar, the Kote's gangplank hissing downward before he burst into the cockpit. There wasn't a moment to spare, he was flipping switches, grabbing the controls with you still in his arms, and taking the ship the hell off of Tatooine before you'd even managed to fill your lungs up fully. When you finally lifted off the ground a loud laugh popped out of your throat, hair frazzled and snapping in all directions as you looked up at him.

He was still tense, coiled and ready to strike, but at your giggling he eased, cocking his helmet to the side. "Friends?" You poked.

"Mm, friends," he hummed, unable to keep himself from chuckling as you continued to snicker.

"I'm going to go wash some of this sweat off while you set us back on course," you told him, bending forward to press a kiss to his steel cheek. The sensation of the metal on your mouth was refreshing. Climbing down you left him to that bit of work, checking on the few supply crates that had been loaded onto the ship with fresh food. You weren't really certain what some of it was before ducking into the fresher to wipe your neck and between your boobs with a damp rag.

"Mesh'la?"

You fumbled the rag. How the hell could he sneak up on you like that? Sure, you weren't hyper sensitive about your surroundings, but he was still quite large and you expected to hear his boots carving their path toward you as he crowded you in the fresher. "Hm?" He grabbed your waist, pushing into you, your hips hitting the edge of the sink. You floundered, gripping onto the edge of the metal as you gasped. His codpiece was gone and you could feel the rigid line of his hardness against your ass.

"You were going to let me take you in that alleyway, weren't you?" His helmet fell on top of the crown of your head, lolling slightly as he huffed through his vocoder. Maker, you'd done this to him?

Face sizzling, you gave a small nod. "I..." You hadn't been thinking straight, perhaps the heat had gotten to you and you'd agreed to something so incredibly dirty when you usually wouldn't. His hand glided up to your chest, pushing the shirt up, revealing your perky breasts to the mirror where you could see your own face shifting and your lips parting as you let out a soft whine. The sink was cold against your tummy, but the rest of him was a hot blanket above you. "Yes."

"I would have," he was quiet, mumbling almost as he rolled his fingers over your nipple. "Out on the range you were such a good girl. Listened to everything I taught you. You'll get better. You were doing so well today-"

You moaned louder, leaning into his hand, crushing your stomach into the sink at his praise. Fuck, why did you like it so much when he told you how well you'd done? You knew you were shit at shooting, but the way he said it... he wasn't saying you were amazing, but he was still praising you somehow.

"What if someone saw us?" you managed to squeak out.

"I would have shielded you. You're so small," he answered simply, reaching down to palm between your legs. "I wouldn't have let anyone see you. Do... you want me to show you how? How I would've done it?"

You knew you had to be soaked at this point, his fingers digging in against the material of your coveralls. Each sentence he uttered made your skin blister, heart steadily picking up in tempo, and threatening to give you a heart attack at this point as you were squished to the sink. The ache was awful, so needy and desperate that you could barely answer him. You manage to bob your head when words evade you.

Drawing you off the sink, he pushed you up into the opposing wall, boxing you in just like he'd down in the alley. His helmet fell against your brow and you could hear his heavy pants coming through the modulator. He hooked a finger in your waistband, tugging both the coveralls and your underwear in one fell swoop. Skirts. You definitely needed skirts. The logistics of pants were too much of a hassle, they were --- you keened to his hand as he brushed your bundle of nerves and came down in between your folds.

"Mesh'la you're already soaked," he realized, watching as you pressed your head back against the wall and gnawed on your lips. "You really wanted it that badly in the alley?" He was taken aback by this as you continued to kick off your pants and boots. He'd have to buy you a dress or a skirt, pants wouldn't have worked in the alley. "I would have leaned against the wall and picked you up like this-" he ran down his thought process, steadying himself against the wall by bracing his right side, swinging his hand beneath the supple curve of your ass, before lifting you up, encircling your leg, bringing it to rest up on his hips where the edge of his belt was. Balancing you with the wall as a leverage point, he undid his belt and dug his cock out, which sprung readily, throbbing in anticipation.

Your hands fell on his shoulders as he guided you down, slicking his length against you before holding you by your hips, lower back not touching the wall as he tested his entrance. You quivered, thighs clenching as he fought the resistance of your cunt and buried himself. Both of you gasped, but he moved first, beginning to fuck you against the wall. If he thought you could've been quiet at all when he did this, then he was sorely mistaken. Almost immediately you began to cry out, each fervent lock of his hips to yours stretching and hitting into your molten core. Maker, it felt so disastrously good, your fingers tightening around his shoulders as your heart fluttered anxiously, not wishing to fall.

"And if you were being too loud-" he continued, pushing closer to you on the wall, nearly crushing you beneath his form so that he had more support, he covered your mouth, stifling the hitching whines and yelps. "Mesh'la," he growled in your ear, so gritty and animalistic that it set your teeth on end and stood up all the fine baby hairs on your body.

Your eyes were watering, shadowed beneath him as he breathily pounded into you. Had you not been held in place by his hand your neck would be limp. He was in all beskar, his helmet against the side of your face, glancing down as he fucked you, beginning to mutter in Mando'a as you struggled to keep your legs encircling his hips. He moved a little harder, your muffled gasps punctuated as you dug your nails into his shoulder viciously.

Paz barely felt it, the marks you were leaving through the layers of his flight suit and cowl. You were a shaking, whimpering mess against him, tears spilling from your eyes as your walls tightened. He knew it was coming, pounding harder as you whined and your lashes danced against your cheekbone. He moved his hand, let you scream his name finally, the vice grip of your cunt around him thrusting him over the edge as your orgasm assaulted him with a wave of pleasure.

His hips stuttered and he caught his own moan in the back of his throat as he blissed out, forgetting completely that he was still inside of you, unable to hear you saying his name more insistence and not with the same slurred pleasure as usual.

"Paz!" you were panicked as he panted against you, in his own debauched daze.

He rolled his head, visor looking at you, before he stiffened. "Fuck!"

"I-i-it's," you were stammering as he pulled out of you, setting you down on your feet. Your knees buckled and he caught you, but you were beginning to run down the last time you'd had your period. Theoretically, you should be due in a week. When was the most fertile time for a woman? Fuck you didn't know that, you'd never tried to get pregnant before.

"Tracyn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Uhm," you were glancing down at yourself, wondering what might happen... You had liked the sensation of him finishing in you, the way he'd reacted, perhaps even better than when you'd given him a blowjob. But still... you weren't on any contraceptives. "I think... I think it'll be okay."

He crouched in front of you, capturing your face in his palms and framing you. "I wasn't paying attention. I should have been paying attention. If you become pregnant-"

"Then I do," you say dolefully, glaring down at the floor. "We should have a better idea in a week. That's when I'm due for that time of month."

Paz was quiet. So quiet that it frightened you.

But his own mind was reeling. Had you just stated it would be fine if you got pregnant? No, you were trying to stop him from finishing inside you, so it wasn't that. "You wouldn't...?"

"No!" you grabbed your stomach reflexively, defensively. You were of the age where you wanted children, but you and Paz hadn't established any sort of idea for what the two of you were. "I-I mean, I don't think I'm ready, but that wouldn't be the child's fault for our own stupidity."

He wanted children, desperately, but that hadn't been his intention when he spent himself in you. That was something that needed to be discussed prior to a frightening situation like this. But your reaction warmed him. You would have his child if this accident resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. "You're so beautiful. Your ka'rta, your face, everything about you, Tracyn."

You were still holding your stomach, drawing a shaky breath as you tried to combat your anxiety. It was going to be at an all-time high until you had your period. What if it didn't come? Fuck. Then you were having Paz's child, you'd already said it. You were healthy and you knew you wanted kids, you just... wanted something more permanent and to not be on the run while it happened. "If I'm not, then I should really get an implant when we get to Gala. Even if... a short one."

Your suggestion made him smile. You weren't planning on leaving and you wanted to be with him, maybe even have his children one day if the two of you worked out in that way. Paz wanted it. He wanted everything to work out and keep you forever. But proclaiming such things now might frighten you when you were trying to cope with the fact that you might get pregnant. "We'll do that." While he wanted children, you being pregnant during this running from the Empire escapade was not a good idea. You were already a distraction enough and if you were pregnant... He shuddered at the idea, having to worry about protecting an unborn child and deal with whatever sickness that came with that. But he'd do it. Without a fucking doubt he'd do it.

"Can I take a shower?"

He nodded, standing up before planting a keldabe kiss upon your brow. You were doing better since losing your home, but he knew it might come up again later. He hoped the Kote could become your home. "Let me know if you need anything, cyar'ika. I'll be just outside."

Translate: Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur - Today is a good day for someone else to die.

#paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #smut with plot #smut with feelings

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anime-alyssa · 5 years ago

Text

secret desires. (mando x reader)

You and the Mandalorian were temporary partners, nothing more, nothing less. The two of you are trying to find work at a cantia when you get hit on by another bounty hunter and your Mandalorian reacts differently than you expected afterwards.

Takes place after the events of Chapter 5.

IT FUCKIN TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH TO WRITE THIS, EY? SMUT BELOW THE CUT. for des bc its her birthday. happy birthday hoe here’s some mando porn.

also on ao3.

You collapsed against the co-pilot’s chair, The Child in your lap cooing and looking up at you curiously. He was wide awake despite it being the middle of the night, making you grunt softly. You had grown to love the little green creature, protecting it with your life and taking care of it like your own. The Child’s eyes darted over to your partner, putting himself into the pilot’s seat and preparing the Razorcrest for take off.

The Mandalorian was a man of few words, you learned. He didn’t speak very often. You had wandered into him while searching for the very bounty you held in your lap and had offered to split the profit after bringing him in, then to help rescue the Child and find it a safe place to grow up. Unfortunately it was still being tracked and the two of you had been on the run ever since, making your temporary partnership a lot longer than either of you anticipated.

You didn’t mind his company, really. He was quiet and you sure could get used to a Mandalorian always being around you. You were intrigued by him - you wanted to see what was under all that armor. Of course, you know it’s not the way for them to take it off, especially the helmet, so you could really only dream right now. You liked to imagine him built, since the armor was hulking. Built but fit. You didn’t have these feelings until recently for him - sexual feelings and attraction. You didn’t know you could be attracted to someone in which you had no idea what they looked like, but here you were.

You were dying to get back to your bunk and just tuck in and touch yourself after what happened earlier today. You two were at a cantina on Tattooine trying to find work and a rookie bounty hunter, who later the Mandalorian killed himself, started hitting on you. At first it was mindless flirting, but then it escalated very quickly.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing as a bounty hunter?” the rookie asked you. You rolled your eyes at him, looking him dead in the face. You would sleep with him if you had more shots of tequila or something, but at the moment you wanted to kick his teeth in. Unbeknownst to you, the Mandalorian tensed up besides you listening to the way he spoke to you.

“Same as you. Trying to make a living, earn money. You know, surviving.” you replied back to him.

“I can think of a few other things a pretty girl like you could do instead of this…”

“That’s enough. Do you want our help or not?” Mando asked him, shoving him back and you behind him.

You hadn’t been able to get the scene out of your mind since. The way he pushed him back, pushed you behind him…. dare you say he was jealous? You couldn’t know, there was no way for you to know. For all you know he was just being a decent person and taking you out of a situation you were clearly uncomfortable with.

But you secretly hoped he was jealous. And the thought of that made your cunt clench in between your legs, along with the thought of how hot it was that he intervened. The second you were in lightspeed you were out to your bunk, leaving the Child with him.

The Child was now asleep in your arms, so you put it into its cradle and shut the lid, encasing it in darkness so that it would stay asleep. You swiveled in your seat a little, feeling your frustration grow in between your legs. This wasn’t the first time you had touched yourself fantasizing about the Mandalorian. It’s been happening more often than it used to and in all honesty, you didn’t mind it. You had constant fantasy of taking his cock in your mouth and him inside of you… it was nothing but a fantasy unfortunately.

You didn’t have the guts to make any moves on him and you fairly assumed that he didn’t give a shit about you, given that originally he didn’t even want you on his ship anyway. The only reason why you were on the ship with him was because the Child liked you and the bonus was that you could fight pretty well. So he kept you around, but always made comments that the second he found a way to get the bounty off the kid and himself you had to move on.

The silencing was nearly deafening in the cockpit of the Razorcrest. Neither of you were much for words, but you always asked if it was alright for you to retire. Just incase he did need anything before you went. Sometimes he would straight tell you to sleep. But right now you were curious to see if he would say anything about the days events. It had been a wild day, attempting to work with that rookie, him betraying the two of them and then of course, the cantina. You didn’t think he would say anything, so you readied yourself to make your departure.

“Earlier… I apologize if I was out of line.” the Mandalorian spoke up in the silence. It nearly made you jump, heart beating fast in your chest.

“It’s fine. Appreciate it, but I can handle creeps on my own, though. It happens all too often.” you said back to him. You got up to make your way over to the ladder to head back down to your bunk. But he shot his arm out and grabbed hold of your wrist before you could get any further past his seat. You looked at him quizzically, heart pounding in your chest. What was he up too? “Don’t make me go on thinking you care about me, Mando.” you said light-heartedly with a small laugh on the end. You know that you’d love it if he did. It was just too good to be true.

“I think I just might.” he said to you, turning you to face him. He was looking at you through his helmet and you were staring back at him with wide eyes. “I… hear you sometimes. At night. You’re not as quiet as you think.” he said you, approaching you slowly. You felt your stomach drop down your body. Oh god. You were completely embarrassed that he actually heard you, despite how quiet you tried to keep yourself. If this was a normal situation this would be the part where you said ‘fuck it’ and kissed him - but this wasn’t normal. You stood there frozen as he was now chest to chest with you, metal pressing up against your clothed chest. A million thoughts raced through your mind and for some reason you stood there, not knowing what to do. If this was going to happen, it was obvious at this point that he was in control of the situation.

Slowly he started to move his hand that wasn’t on your wrist up your stomach. You wondered what he was doing until your breath hitched in your throat when his gloved hand gently sat on one of your breasts and started to squeeze. You suppressed a small moan in your throat, the surprise catching you off guard more than anything. Was this really happening? Was he really doing this? The hand on your wrist moved to the back of you, reaching down to take a handful of your ass in his hand. This time you let out a soft moan, so soft that you hoped he didn’t hear how much you wanted him. He kept working both of his hands on your body and you bit the inside of your mouth to keep yourself from getting any louder. He stopped what he was doing and you looked back at him, his helmet staring into you.

“If you stop yourself from making those pretty noises again, I’m discarding you with the Hutts.” he threatened lowly. Somehow the way that sentence came out of his mouth distorted by the modulator only turned you on more. You nodded slowly as he looked away from you for a brief second and left your side. You whined a little bit at the loss of contact but excitement grew in you as you saw what he was doing. On the floor was a spare piece of some sort of fabric, been there for god knows how long. You watched with narrow eyes as you saw him folding it the long way, analyzing it. “This should be good.” he said, walking over to you.

“Are you—”

“Close your eyes.” he said to you. You inhaled deeply as you did so, feeling the rough fabric cover your eyes and tie in the back tightly. You anxiety started to swirl upon realizing that you were not able to see. You lost balance for a brief second in your panic but a pair of strong arms caught you in time. “Relax.” you heard a low, deep unfiltered voice in your ears as he wrapped your arms around him.

Oh lord he took his helmet off. You had a feeling thats what was going to happen when he put the blindfold on you but for some reason you lost all logic that he was actually going to do it after you stopped being able to see. He trailed soft kisses up you, starting at your shoulder blade, biting and sucking gently as he went. When he reached your neck he took a little more time to leave his mark on you, causing you to moan out and fall back in his arms, head hanging loosely. You heard him let out a hum of pleasure in knowing that he was able to do this to you as he kept moving slowly up your neck until finally, he reached your lips. And oh maker - you’d wear the damn blindfold all day if it meant that you were able to kiss him like this more often. His soft lips meshed against yours perfectly, filled with lust. He wanted you.

He lowered the both of you to the ground slowly, you under him and him on top of you. Your lips were still together and you didn’t think you ever wanted to stop kissing him. The warmth in your stomach was unlike anything you had felt before. No one’s made you feel the way he does.

To your dismay, he took his lips off of yours to start working your shirt off of you. He let out an audible grunt when you heard your shirt thump to the floor next to you.

“Perfect… fucking perfect.” he said from above you. You felt heat flush to your cheeks as you heard two more items of clothing discarded next to you, but it wasn’t your own. Suddenly you felt his hands on both your breasts, pulling and tugging at your nipples slowly. “Never seen anything more perfect than you.” he said, placing his lips on one of your nipples. You moaned loudly, loud enough to probably wake up the Child but you didn’t care. Everything you had been fantasizing about the past few weeks was coming true. His free hand went down to your pants, sliding off them and your underwear with ease. You mentally begged him to move down your body more. You needed his lips on your pussy.

“Please…” you breathed out quietly. He chuckled against you, taking his mouth off your nipple to bring himself even with you. Of course you couldn’t see this, but you were beginning to almost feel his presence and where he was around you.

“Please, what?” he said, kissing your neck softly before making his way back down your body. He knew what you were begging for and he was going to give it to you. He spread your legs and put your knees over each of his shoulders smoothly and slowly, so slowly that you didn’t even know if thats what he actually did.

“Put yo - your lips on me - oh!” You didn’t even have to finish speaking before he enveloped your cunt with the heat of his mouth. He dove his tongue right into your folds and got to work undoing you immediately. You moaned deliciously for him, managing to find his mop of hair in your blindness and tangled your hands in it. This seemed to motivate him to go faster as he sucked gently at your bud, making the heat inside of you start to boil slowly. It was only when he sunk two of his fingers inside of you that you cried out his name. “Mando!” you shouted as you felt your legs tighten around his shoulders.

You couldn’t see anything behind the blindfold he put on you but you could have sworn that you could see stars right about now. You let out moan after moan as he went down on you gracefully, eating you like it was the last thing he would ever have in his life and pounding his fingers into you like there was no tomorrow. He licked delicious stripes up your cunt, slurping up all your juices into his mouth. His stubble scratched at your thighs as with one last pump of his fingers, he curled them into you going all the way to the knuckle and sucked on your bud, making you scream his name out and clench around him. You were in ecstasy around him, coming on his lips, his fingers, and probably some of his face too. He slid his fingers out of you but continued to lap up every ounce of liquid that spilled out of you. You panted as he took his face off of your cunt slowly, almost not wanting to leave it. He lifted your legs off of his shoulders quickly and put them spread for him.

He groaned as he used one of his hands to work at his belt. You could hear him messily fumbling with the buckle as his other hand worked to get rid of his armor, hitting the floor with a clang as it was discarded from his body. You heard him grunt as skin slapped against skin for a moment before he hovered himself over you. He spread your legs gently further as he took his cock in his hand, and lined himself up with your entrance. You felt the head of his cock press into you ever so slightly, and then in one thrust - he was filling you completely. You both let out loud moans as he adjusted his positioning around you.

“Go- god. So- so tight. Fucking perfect-t.” He moaned to you as he ever so slowly started thrusting into you. He started out slow, to give you time to adjust and him time to get himself situated around you. But then he started to pick up the pace more, thrusting evenly and hard inside of you. His head hung next to you, his pants and moans echoing in your ears beautifully. You took a shot in the dark and turned your head to his, nudging your nose into his neck and bringing your lips to the skin there, gently biting the area to give him a mark that matched the one he made for you earlier. “F-f-f-fuck.” he moaned loudly.

The Mandalorian snapped his hips into you like it was the only thing he knew. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling them up towards his to give him the better angle of being able to fill you balls deep. It was bliss. The two of you were molded together in lust and sweat on the floor of his ship, nothing else but the two of you and your moans. He was hitting all the right spots inside of you, filling you entirely and tightly. The moans he was making into your ear helped aid you in coming close to your second orgasm. Your bites on his neck slowed as it was now your turn to moan, to cry out his name as he brought you closer to that edge.

“Please, keep going. Don’t stop - oh my god, Mando please.” you begged him. Sweat was pouring down your forehead as you felt yourself growing hot, once more feeling yourself getting taken over my ecstasy - almost. You were so close, so, so close when he railed himself into you and plowed home, him spilling moans out into your ear and you moaning out. The room echoed with your moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin.

“C-c-come for me, o-oh god I need you to - ugh.” he groaned into your ear deeply. And that was all it took for you to come undone around him.

“Shit - Mando!” you cried out. Your cunt clenched around his cock inside of you and your back arched against the floor as he pounded into you through your orgasm. Your muscles were tight and all you saw was white and stars behind your eyelids as you screamed the name you knew for him, your nails dragging down his back as you scratched into his back and bit down on his neck and moaned.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” your Mandalorian moaned out as you felt his cock pulse inside of you, spilling his seed deep within you and stilling his thrusts as he moaned in a language that you didn’t know. His arms around you tightened as he brought you close to his chest, heaving and panting next to you. You finally went near limp in his arms, relaxing after you overcame your own high. He stayed in you for a minute before sliding out and collapsing on top of you. You felt the sweat from his own forehead against your shoulder as he rested his head there, regaining his composure.

It was silent except for your breathing. His arms were locked around you and yours still around him. You thought that once this was over he was going to just get dressed and you were going to scramble to your bunk half naked and be done with it. But he wanted to keep you two laying there, to enjoy the moment. He didn’t want to pass this up. You felt his lips on your shoulder softly.

“Stay. With me.” he said to you. It wasn’t really a question - it was a hope. He wanted you to stay with him.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” you said to him. You heard him chuckle and then he pressed his lips back to yours.

And you meant that.

#mandalorian x reader #myshit #the mandalorian x reader

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vaguely-gestures-to-the-void · 3 years ago

Text

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Welcome back! Spoilers below!

I need to clarify that I watch Loki purely as an escape. I've got a biased perspective in that regard because I don’t actively try to find fault with the show, though there are definitely things I’m not so inclined to. This is more of what I noticed and think things mean and it’s something I’m doing for fun. Anyways, here's my thoughts on episode 2 my loves.

Episode 2: THE VARIANT

Pre-title scene

Miss Minutes’ monologue in the recap is different to the one last ep.

1985 Oshkosh, Wisconsin

C-20!

“Today’s guest performances” on a board. Don’t really know if it means anything tho.

The Iconic (TM) I Need A Hero scene.

Pony.

The green tent - the lair of Loki.

I know not everyone’s a fan of the lighting, but it made sense to me. They’re still in the dark about who Sylvie is.

Why does C-20 take off her helmet? For the drama?

I hope Sylvie cleaned her blade. Narnia taught me well.

The Time Samsung (I can’t remember what it’s called right now) says that the date’s 04/12/1985.

Loki’s first mission (?)

‘Volume 26’ - how many of these does Mobius have?? #giveMobiusajetski

“ONLY at your LOCAL AUTHORIZED DEALER” - subtext about the TVA being control freaks? Jet ski safety?

I googled Wake Magazine. They’re up to volume 20 from what I saw, whilst Loki is reading volume 26, so I guess that’s something

Loki and Miss Minutes lmaooo.

Behind Loki’s elbow is the taxidermy something from the last episode. Also confirms that Loki threatened Casey at Mobius’ desk lol.

The thing has an egg?? What the hell is Mobius collecting? (He’s a Harry Hart variant lmao).

There are little twitches in Miss Minnutes’ hands. That’s so cool!

The egg timer’s a nice easter egg (I’m a comedian).

Mobius! B-15! :)

Is it just me or do the minutemen look similar, but not exactly the same. Makes sense if they’re variants.

I just realised the lights are built into the ceiling. Whoops.

What’s Mobius’ favourite?

Couple of things:

The racks full of identical uniforms/ones just hung up on doors.

The music has started to pick up the pace, but not in the way we see later on in the episode.

There’s a sign saying ‘FARE THEE WELL’ on it. Google tells me that it’s ‘used to express good wishes on parting’. Dang that was some good foreshadowing!

The person that looks like Agatha is still present.

I wonder whether it was supposed to be colder or whether the weather was just like that when they filmed.

The pony’s still around.

I think B-15 certainty that “a Loki couldn’t have gotten the jump of C-20” comes from her experience with them. She constantly tries to make it clear that because she’s not a variant, she’d know Loki better than he would, which (personally) makes the revelation that she’s a variant feel more devastating.

Again with the lighting, they’re still in partial darkness, constantly moving in and out of the light. Whilst what Loki says about the variant setting a trap is true, it isn’t in the context that he says it. Sylvie whoops their asses later.

The black and red-orange flags remind me of tomb markers. It’s a stretch, ik.

B-15 only has tally marks on one side of her helmet.

Mobius has fake pockets in his suit jacket. They’re the worst.

The ticking increasing in tempo as they approach red line - great for setting up tension.

I believe that Loki uses personal space like a weapon - slowly approaching them from the front, and then going behind Mobius’ back when he wants his way. It would make anyone uncomfortable, especially on a subconscious level because there’s a threat behind you.

Or maybe it’s that I have different personal space boundaries, not everyone likes being approached from behind. Loki’s movement felt intentional at least.

Getting Mobius to physically turn his way because of that might have been very subtle manipulation?

Loki looking back and forth trying to judge their reactions lol.

I liked the music in this scene, it sets up tension for Loki’s first attempt at betraying Mobius but then doesn’t completely dismiss it when it’s resolved.

Ravonna Renslayer’s office

The music here is 18 morceaux, Op. 72, No. 2. Berceuse. 18 morceaux, Op. 72: No. 2, Berceuse (Arr. For Theremin and piano) by Clara Rockmore for anyone that’s curious. I found out through Natalie Holt’s Twitter (I think).

The score is, and always will be, perfection.

Mobius’ small talk amuses me.

“Why do you get to keep all the trophies from my cases in here, you don’t think I’d love having that roller skate?” Mobius, what about the thing on the shelf behind your desk????

Ravonna seems like she’s answered these questions before, but she has a fondness for him that makes me think they’re good friends.

Also does Ravonna have multiple complete collections of the Encyclopaedia Britannica in her office? What are those books??

“I hope it’s a double.” Me too Mobius, me too (drink responsibly).

I don’t get how people think Mobius doesn’t remember leaving the stains. It sounded like Ravonna was chiding him for a bad habit and Mobius just made up a remark, not confusion.

Although he does place the cup at a different spot to the rings.

The ship flying past in the windows is a wonderful detail.

“The variant likes to stall for time.” It's very satisfying to me how everything stays relevant. Every detail advances the plot/contributes to it.

“Look, I know you have a soft spot for broken things.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Yes you do.”

Both Mobius and Ravonna only look at the middle figure when referring to the time Keepers. Either the other two are side-lined or don’t contribute at all.

“I’ll delete him myself.” At this point in time, I think Mobius is serious. As the episode progresses, his status may have changed, especially after the Jet Ski philosophy session.

Ravonna’s sash on the peg reminds me of the ones the people talking to Casey were wearing in episode 1.

Man those doors are so cool.

Peak sitting outside the principal’s office energy.

Mobius whistles at Loki as opposed to talking to him like he does later.

Any screen shot from the following scene is pristine chaotic disaster bi Loki energy featuring tired-of-your-tomfoolery Mobius.

“Isn’t that precisely why I’m here?” This marked a change in Loki to me. Up until that point, he’d tried to use what he’d known, who he’d been by scheming his way to the Time Keepers. By admitting he wasn’t sure of his purpose, we’re back with the person at the end of the last episode. It’s very Loki to try all avenues to get what he wants, and after having his world turned upside-down a few times in a short period, maybe he just wanted the familiarity of his old tricks, who he thinks he is.

Loki tensing up and then trying to assert control again reaffirms what I just said.

Man, give Mobius a holiday after all of this. Loki really tested him, huh?

Loki definitely likes validation on some level.

TVA archives (a.k.a the Salad Scene)

I can’t believe that place really exists. The looks combined with the music are just *chef kisses*.

I’m not sure if I’m thinking of the right progression, but the music reminds me of a plagal cadence. Google examples and play it side-by-side, you’ll get what I mean, maybe someone knows what it really is?

On either side of the elevators near the Time Keeper statues are the signs TVA archives.

The symmetry pleases my goblin brain.

I believe the entire show was just flexing the skills of the Loki crew and I couldn’t be happier.

“Pretend your life depends on it. I’m gonna get a snack.” This was so funny in the trailers but Mobius is dead serious (delete him myself comment). And he couldn’t even enjoy his salad.

Love that the end of credits takes from some of the scenes in episode 2.

The archivist has neat glasses.

I want some TVA stationary y’all.

It’s that moment fam.

I can’t be the only one curious by the ‘DISPLACED by 000:000:002:162’. Is that in Units? It would explain why the time line looks slightly bendy whenever we see it, especially if Apocalypses are so frequent.

IT’S THE SALAD LADS!

Mobius is reading the magazine that Loki was looking at earlier. Jet skis are Mobius’ comfort character.

“Don’t set fire to the palace.”

Tom Hiddleston has so much energy, he can move so fast.

“Oh God.” - Mobius, Null Time Zone

“YOU.” - Casey, Null Time Zone

Casey!

No thoughts, head empty, the Salad (TM).

But seriously, people only seem to be at their tables with others that work in a similar section. Not hunters and analysts eating in tandem to me, folks.

Oh Casey. Please don’t hurt him.

Aw, Mobius’ little giggle warmed my heart. Owen Wilson’s giving me whiplash with Mobius. My heart can’t take this y’all.

79 AD Pompeii, Italy

They’re both so giddy, Your Honour, I love them.

Mobius snuck them out lol.

“Bird noises?”

“BE FREE MY HORNED FRIENDS, BE FREE!” The post wouldn’t be complete without this.

Loki just throwing food at people and telling them “...enjoy your last meal while you can” is top tier comedy to me.

This is the first time we see Loki openly say nothing matters. I feel like the case file on the destruction of Asgard really pushed him to treat fate as unchangeable.

LXXIX is 79. Nice one Loki crew!

Mobius’ eye twitching as he checks the variance is a nice touch.

Loki throws away the stick that was holding the goat pen closed at the end.

TVA Archives, TVA cafeteria

Mobius picked up those files so smoothly I had to re-watch it.

Their position reflected what they were talking about - when Loki thinks it’s his individual contribution, he’s walking separately to Mobius, but they meet up when working together. I loved the blocking in that little moment.

I seriously thought that Loki was unconscious when I first saw him asleep around Mobius. I’ll admit it, it felt out-of-character for someone with such bad trust issues. Both of them seem pretty tired tho.

It’s the Jet Ski conversation comrades!

I’m beaming. Mobius talking about Jet Skis was the only time I’ve really remembered it’s Owen Wilson talking. It’s such a fun line to think about!

Loki’s smile. Adorable.

Just go watch the scene, it’ll give you good brain juices.

Mobius does it all for the Jet Skis and nothing else. I don’t make the rules, the Time Keepers do.

“My own glorious purpose.” This is a recurring theme in the season. Ultimately, I think that Loki is going to run for as long as it brings in money/until Loki gets killed again. However, I do like to think that in following seasons we’ll move beyond setting up Phase 4 Marvel stuff and just get deep dives into Loki’s character, though it may happen in the later eps or not be as interesting. Part of what made this show so interesting is the new setting in the Marvel universe but it’s hard to make predictions as to whether it will last in a show featuring the God of Mischief. Whatever happens, I’m happy that we got to see Loki’s existential crisis together, lads.

The music picks up, signalling that this quiet moment is about to end.

“No one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is every truly good.”

“Scared little boy.”

These lines mean a lot to me. Loki perceives Mobius as an equal, similar to himself but not completely identical. The TVA’s whole aesthetic is Kafkaesque (Disney+ used that word), the imperfections keeping the place from looking mechanical and orderly like what the TVA promotes itself to be. Loki wants Mobius to acknowledge it, but Mobius is in the past, not addressing what’s right in front of him, surrounding him. That’s probably because Mobius doesn’t believe, he accepts what he’s been told though Loki wants to change that. He’s still focused on his job, the variant. I don’t think Mobius will struggle against change in the ‘belief’ part as long as things are rational.

Kate Herron (director) said that the Kablooie scene was improv which makes me wish we had more B roll of Owen and Tom. They seem so professional, invested and fun on set.

“No wonder you’re so bitter.” I’m sorry Mobius you sound as salty as your salad.

‘Artificially flavoured chewing gum’ Has something happened causing artificial flavouring to be preferred?

‘Blue’ has canonically changed to ‘Bloo’ by 2050 in America in the MCU. I blame capitalism.

Why does Mobius look so tiny? I say that like Owen Wilson wouldn’t look like a giant next to me lol.

Owen Wilson is 3.5 inches (9 centimetres) shorter than Tom Hiddleston. Yet he is dwarfed as Mobius. I need to stop talking about this and move on.

There’s no ‘variance energy detected’ line in the report.

“You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.” Loki looks so chuffed.

One day, I’ll properly address my thoughts on the shipping. Until then, I just want no one to die.

“Yeah, he’s doing great.” Mobius is so hyped. Good for him.

Owen Wilson has dimples.

Ravonna’s screen doesn’t show the timeline like it does later.

Ravonna is the done mom friend. Sane, undeserving of this, please give her a jet ski moment.

Buckle up folks because the last twenty minutes of this episode are my favourite so far.

At 34 minutes in, we get the music fading in with “Okay. But Mobius...” and a transition to my favourite composition so far. Natalie Holt outdid herself. The soundtrack is nearly constant, there’s no break for a moment of clarity anymore. The progression of events is inevitable, tying the bow on a plot line created in an hour and a half. The little embellishment from the strings (possibly) as Mobius and Loki exit is perfect. Combined with Loki’s raised fist leading to a pan to the ceiling, it prepared the audience for everything being turned upside down.

The changing camera angles and shot lengths (the continuous shot when B-15 takes the knives, the circling behind as the briefing occurs) keep viewers on their toes. The continuous shot is fluid, B-15 doesn’t look at Loki or Mobius, her reaction is natural and that just proves that the timing on that scene was impeccable. The circling behind reminded me of Loki positioning himself behind Mobius as he did earlier, but now he’s on the same side, part of the team though he continues to distinguish between himself and the variant. The building sensation that change is coming is met by the incredible swell in the music as we watch the picturesque Haven Hills get destroyed by modern technology and face the terrifying reality that is the Roxxcart store. There’s a close up on the Roxxcart storefront with school buses with the words ‘Evacuation shuttle’ in the background as we see the TVA’s minutemen come out reinforcing that even when the end is nigh, large corporations will loom over. A storm is raging with worse to come. I can go on and on, but you get the point.

2050 Roxxcart Disaster

I love that y’all are calling this the Alabama supermarket breakup. Makes me chuckle, that’s for sure.

I too hate when people can hear my footsteps. Someone that gets the struggle.

Sylvie places the TVA Samsung over a Roxxcart Security manual. She’s overridden both and is in control.

The date is 03/15/2050.

I think that the way the Hunters and minutemen hold their baton things is so that they don’t get yeeted. Neat.

As always, the beats are slick yo.

I hope the Azaleas guy gets some Azaleas wherever he ended up.

I love the way Loki says “In this storm.” It’s so satisfying for no real reason.

The wonderful Wunmi Mosaku does not get the recognition she deserves for this scene. She switched from B-15 to Sylvie so effortlessly. They’re two distinct characters, her facial expressions, body language everything changed in that instant. Even from the one line, “No, they usually survive,” her delivery had changed in a way that was noticeable. It’s uncanny, exactly what was needed when facing a foe that remained unseen. And the smile? It’s before we know the variant as Sylvie, so naturally it’s that signature Loki smile with a hint of malice we associate with the variant. Damn y’all, Wunmi’s incredible! I really hope she’s recognised for being so talented in this series, if not in all her other work!

Mobius really cares about those people. I really want his redemption (?) arc.

It’s been pointed out that even in those conditions, Roxxcart were selling blankets and water. I think it means that by 2050, cash would be defunct. If only electronic payment existed, as long as there’s electricity they can run a business. Chew on that.

If the man they speak to is 50 to 60, he was a 90s kid.

There must be a difference in the reprogramming or kind of variant selected to be a hunter as compared to an analyst. The Hunters look after their own, but the analysts (or Mobius) go as far as empathising with variants.

C-20 is sitting in front of safety standards.

“A bit amateurish.” Loki knows that the variant isn’t as skilled with magic as he is.

As Loki and the possessed people walk, the lighting becomes brighter. He’s moving out of the shadows.

Me too Loki, I’m worried about B-15 too.

Sylvie unironically saying bless is hilarious.

Randy must be hella tall.

There’s a low angle shot as Loki and Randy face off with the flickering light above with a sign hanging above them like a sword of Damocles and a physical separation. Terror is nearly constant in Loki's life now, but he responds by letting go of his drive to survive.

The subtle swells in the music just add to my rising blood pressure.

C-20’s voice over is sad lads.

“I wanna go home,” we know she’s not referring to the TVA.

Mobius seems like a caring person.

When B-15 sits up and searches the room, I think it’s her realisation. Her shiver was from fear and shock, the music wasn’t about her not seeing Loki, it was about the TVA and what had happened to her.

The head snap and the score timing matching. So satisfying.

“I would never treat me like this. Hi.” I think that’s Loki realising that his foe is not willing to talk their way through conflict.

This fight scene contradicts all the magic we see later ik, but if he didn’t want to hurt anyone and was trying to draw out the real enemy it made sense.

Some of Sylvie’s powers must come into the people she possesses. The guy punched a glass screen and didn’t even bleed.

“I have shit to do.” Sylvie wasn’t raised with court etiquette (from what we know) and her lexical choice reflects that.

Dell computers survive into 2050 in the MCU. So do those robot dogs and Roombas. I am only happy about the Roombas. Where did the real dogs go? :(

“Mobius.”

“Where is he?”

“I lost him.”

“What happened?”

“I...”

Until now, B-15’s delivery has felt slightly rhythmic, like she was used to having the same arguments, particularly with Mobius. When she trails off however, I think it’s her trying to rationalise what she’s been through with Sylvie’s possession. Her devotion to the TVA was rooted in the fact that she wasn’t a variant, her life had a purpose and it was intentional. This must have rocked her, I’m invested in where she’ll go.

THE CUT TO BLACK OH GOOD GOSH.

Sylvie, my queen. I’d roll off a cliff for her.

The person with the moustache (you know the one) has pure fear on his face.

Ravonna knows what’s up.

And so do you, yes it’s the music, go listen to it.

THE RED LIGHTING

The zoom out to that incredible hallway shot and then stopping behind the time door. It was never about him after all, he was in the background of her plans.

Sylvie’s wave in Roxxcart vs. Loki’s on the train. Discuss.

The blackout, thunder and Loki’s pause under the flickering red and white light, do y’all really want me to talk about the s y m b o l i s m????

He’s conflicted, you know it, I know it, Mobius knows it.

Speaking of Mobius, there he is, we cut back to Loki and see him make his decision, zooming back in on him.

And with that final flourish in the score, we are done with episode 2!

Cue the most amazing end credits score you’ll ever hear.

Do yourself a favour, listen to all of it, including the part after the main credits, both are Works. Of. Art.

Ep 2 review

In case you didn’t notice, this is my favourite episode so far. There are parts I didn’t take to as much, but details from the previous episode being used in the plot as well as others being explained by Sylvie in episode 3. Rewatching it was easier than episode 1 though it left me wanting more. It will get more interesting from here, but until then, that was a fun romp.

See y'all next time. I hope whoever's reading this has a wonderful day!

Part 1, Episode 1 extend review link:

#spoilers #loki review #Loki spoilers #my respect for people that write scripts/analysis of any kind has increased immensely.#opinion #things i've noticed #sorry if they're not original #b-15 deserves love #the analysts (mobius) the hunters the minutemen casey every one of them deserves love #here's to everyone who worked so hard and put so much into this series #WUNMI MOSAKU IS AMAZING #I love Ravonna #It's great

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my-oh-my · 4 years ago

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silver bullets and red roses: chapter two

hi! this is chapter two for my alex series. also, imagine rose with one of those old housewife accents from the 50s. ugh! the perfection!

Alex! Harry x Female OC

Warnings: PTSD, war scenes, disgusting straight white men who don’t respect women and their bodies, groping (?), violence - don’t read if anything makes you uncomfortable luv!

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Rose and Joseph Harrington save a group of men and a familiar face

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Rose and Joseph stood cautiously within Pegasus, assessing the terrible disarray becoming clearer and clearer to their vision. Men were clung to the top deck of the large grey naval ship for dear life, avoiding the oil slicked water at all costs. There were unlucky ones, swimming desperately through the thick black oil which stained their uniform and skin. Rose turned her attention to the clouded sky, the sound of planes whirring alarming her. She recognised by the shapes of the planes that one was an Allied and the other a Nazi fighter.

She understood now how certain noises had triggered her father into fits of rage. Her legs began to tremble and her body covered itself in a light sheen of sweat, the sound of repetitive gunshots drilling into her head. Oh God, please no, she thought to herself, her heart beginning to speed itself up, arguing loudly with the gunshots in her head. Pull yourself together woman, she took a deep breath – wiping her sweaty palms on her navy-blue skirt before grabbing the circular life raft hung on the side of the boat.

Pegasus began to slow down, coming close to the midst of the crisis. Men’s shouts beckoned Rose as she assessed the oil spill on the surface of the water. “We need to be quick, once the fighter jet gets shot down, this entire area will be up in flames – including the men” she shouted clearly to her father, who took into account her words before putting Pegasus to a stop. They were perhaps 20 metres away from the oil covered men flailing around in the water. Rose flung the white life saver into the water – catching the attention of a few men nearby to it. “Grab on!” she shouted, to which the men hastily obliged – grabbing onto the device whilst Rose began to pull the rope which glided them along the black water towards the boat. Others heard her shout and noticed Pegasus, their way out. Joseph grabbed on tightly to the drenched arm of one of the men in the water before pulling them into the boat. Gunshots continued to swirl around them all as the naval ship sunk further and further into the water, bringing more men into the oil slick. A group of perhaps 30 men crowded around Pegasus – desperate to be out of the water.

Joseph and a few other drenched soldiers helped more and more men into Pegasus whilst Rose directed the men to where to go to evenly distribute the weight and allow as many people on as possible. Rose lightly touched the arm of one man – pointing him towards the lower deck “please go under, I’ll bring blankets and such to warm you all up soon” she advised, looking at a few other men and guiding them underneath. “N- No, I- I can’t” a man stood in the corner of the boat, breathing shortly. Rose stared into his eyes which were fear-stricken, “Please, it will all be ok, we will be home soon” she pressed walking towards him, and placing a hand behind his back to guide him more comfortingly towards the lower deck, “no- please” he begged, tears mingling with the oil and salt water on his face. Rose felt a tang of pain from his pleads, to see someone so upset. “Ok, go up the bow, it will all be ok” she gave a small sympathetic smile as the man rushed up to the front. Rose sighed, guiding more men to the lower deck.

Rose’s attention completely disengaged from the soldiers and towards the sky. The Nazi fighter jet was going down – directly into the oil spill full of men. “We need to go, now!” she shouted to her father, who also watched the jet with streams of smoke following its two wings. She rushed over to the sides of the boat men were still crowded by, “Grab onto the ropes, tightly” she ordered to which they followed, men now hanging onto the sides of the boat. Rose hurried over to the steering wheel, starting up Pegasus and hearing her sputter and purr as she began to speed away from the deadly flammable area.

Rose didn’t dare look back, out of fear her heart just might shred into a million different pieces at the men she couldn’t save. The men who could not make it home. She couldn’t help but hear the screams, the terrible gut-wrenching screams, which got fainter and fainter as she drove Pegasus away from the disaster – towards home. “I think we are far away enough” Joseph spoke to Rose, who slowly steadied Pegasus to a stop to help the few men who were clung onto the boat inside.

At the utmost, Pegasus would be able to carry perhaps twenty men. But here on this fateful day – it carried 35. They had all squished together, a thick hot scent of oil and sweat fogging in the air, but no one minded at all – the thought of finally reaching home far more overwhelming.

Pegasus began to speed up again, everyone safely inside the boat, as Rose began to distribute the cotton blankets stored under the deck to the soldiers. She had also managed to find some old rags, which she soaked in fresh water and handed to them with their blankets to clean the oil off their faces.

Rose handed a blanket and wash cloth to one man in the corner of the lower deck, who did not thank her nor even look up at her – busy talking with the other men. She did not mind, she was interrupting his conversation. “Fetch me somethin’ to eat woman” he ordered sternly, still not looking at her but at the others around him, “I’m sorry sir, we do not have-” she replied, still handing out the blankets to others, “fuckin’ hell, bloody been through hell and you can’t even get somethin’ to eat” he sniggered to the other men, who all scoffed. Rose swallowed harshly, feeling guilt and a tinge of disgust. “I suppose I could think of something else I could eat” he spoke deeply, grabbing onto Rose’s wrist quickly. The men in the lower deck let out big boisterous bouts of laughter, watching as Rose was pulled closer to the man. The grip on her arm got tighter and tighter, surely leaving a faint bruise over the next couple of days.

Rose felt nothing but disgust at this point, his dirty actions and words sinking into her skin like the oil is to theirs. Despite her thoughts, she smiled lightly, staring into his eyes and grabbing his wrist with a mighty grip. “I think you could think a little harder and smarter” she retorted calmly, pulling his hand off of her. A round of laughter started around the boat again, as the man’s arm fell to his side and Rose continued to hand out the blankets.

“It would be for the good of Britain” he continued, standing up and rushing over to Rose and placing a arm around her waist. His touch made Rose want to elbow, punch and kick him on every part of his body, his body still covered in oil and water – staining her neat blazer. She could feel him place his head into the crook of her neck, his vile hot breath breathing on her before inhaling deeply through his nose. “Smell just like my wife” he whispered to her, Rose tensed up gently pushing him off her, “come on dear, don’t be like that” he pressed further, wrapping his arms around her again, even tighter this time. Rose dropped the blankets as the sound of the humming of Pegasus, his hot breaths and the shouts of laughter became like sirens in her head as she struggled against his grip. She was taken back to Dunkirk, to the Nazis that held her, constricted her. Her breaths became shorter, her heart quickened, her hands shaking – trying to push his arms off her.

“She said no, mate” a voice shouted from the opposite corner of the deck over the laughter. His voice was stern, but it was clear he didn’t want to fight – too exhausted. Rose’s mind began to clear again, as the man slowly loosened his grip. She gave his arms a hard push off of her, as she collected herself; straightening her skirt and blazer and picking up the blankets she had dropped. “Just tryna have some fun, mate. Tryna lighten up the mood a little bit.” the man replied, looking at the other man who had spoken out. Rose stood back up, looking past the man who had groped her shoulder at the other soldier. His face was still slicked with oil, his features only semi-recognisable, but it was clear to see his jaw was clenched – staring at the man.

To Rose he seemed familiar, like a face she had seen before maybe once or twice, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Give her a bit of respect, she’s the one saving us” he defended, eyes never straying away from him. “You havin’ a go mate, she’s a woman. Only good for puttin’ out and making sandwiches” he shouted back, earning yet another roar of laughter. Rose’s eyebrows scrunched together, anger lighting a fire within herself. If only he had known that she was there too, she was the one that had saved his life from the Nazis, she was the one that risked her life too. “You’d be burnt to a crisp, you’d ‘ave bullet holes through you, you’d be like every other dead man at Dunkirk if it weren’t for her.” The man had stood up, pointing into the other’s chest. The sunlight seeping through the windows lit up his face, his features became clearer and Rose finally realised. Alex.

For as long as she could remember, the house next door to hers was always quiet. Every now and then she would go over to the white panelled house, their garden with neatly kept hedges and roses, to ask for some sugar when the Harringtons had run out and she was in the middle of baking a cake or the odd dinner party. She knew the Edwards fairly well, Mrs Edwards being a lovely and kind woman, Mr Edwards being kind as well – though it was clear he could be fairly stern sometimes and Alex. As a child, Charles and herself would sometimes go over to the house next door to play with him whilst their mother went out to do her shopping. She found that Alex was much like his mother, very kind as he always shared his toys and would let her be the seeker in a game of hide and seek. But as they all grew up, the only time she would see him was through her bedroom window at his which faced directly opposite and when she would go to the bakery – where he worked.

Alex had turned into a handsome young man. He had grown into his looks, adolescence giving him a strong jawline and facial structure. His brown hair a mess of curls on the top of his head with clean short sides, a single lock of hair always seemed to fall in front of his face. His eyes were a striking green, the colour of shining emeralds.

Rose swallowed her astonishment of his presence, watching the two men in front of her. Thwack. The slight gust of wind passed her face as the sound reached her eardrums. Rose opened her eyes to see Alex clutching his cheek, fire in his eyes. A riot of shouts filled the deck as Alex stood up straight, pushing the man.

“What’s going on!” Joseph shouted, stepping below deck. The men continued to shout as the man grabbed onto Alex’s uniform punching him again in the stomach, “Stop this right now” Joseph shouted again, gabbing onto the man’s back and pushing him of Alex. Alex stared at the man with fire in his eyes, breathing deeply and quickly with rage. “You. You either stop this at once or you get off my boat” Joseph warned sternly, letting go of the man. He turned towards Alex, slightly taken aback by seeing that it was him. “And you, upstairs” he ordered, turning around and marching his way back up to the top. Alex stared harshly at the man again before making his way upstairs. Rose stood, watching him as he walked, noticing the fair cut on his cheekbone which caused thick, blood to pour down his cheek.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #alex! harry #dunkirk alex #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine

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janusthesneakysnakeboi · 5 years ago

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Moments from the new Sanders ASides video that had me screaming (or really, me screaming about the new video)

“RAIIIIID”

*Raid Thomas sounding like Roman/Remus*

“You bet your shiny metal AX”

“MASCULINITY IS A PRISON”

“Why do I pay for a membership if I still gotta watch the ads?”

THE FACT THAT THEY ALL ARE WEARING ONESIES EXCEPT THOMAS AND LOGAN BECAUSE LOGAN IS SERIOUS BOI AND THOMAS WELL,,, IS THOMAS

Also ROMAN CANONICALLY HAS LEGS***

ROMAN HAS ALL THE PILLOWS

VIRGIL IS SITTING ON A SURFACE THAT ISN’T MEANT TO BE SAT ON BUT IS SO RELATABLE BECAUSE I DO THAT EXACT THING WHAT

“Unless our problem is a hungry alligator-” “A remote possibility for a Florida dwelling man who never leaves his house”

Roman rigging the votes so it’s just Frozen and Patton is okay with that (WAIT BUT WHY IS PATTON CHILL (pun not intended) WITH IT???)

LOGAN HAD A CASUAL FALSEHOOD????

WAIT WHAT DID THE SIDES VOTE FOR??

“Thomas is in a bad place-” *camera pans to VIRGIL*

Roman calling Thomas a special snowflake

“Something good” *Frozen shows* “,,, or neutral”

“And from this point on, NO MORE NORDIC INSPIRED NUMBERS”

Virgil keep going back to the actual problem while Roman and Patton just like 90% forget the problem and Logan talks to and tries to calm Virgil

“I ALSO LOVE YOU OLAF”

“Cuties, I’m gonna keep you” “Ah you’re joking right? No you’re mine now”

“The heart is not so easily changed” “No it isn’t” *confused Patton noises*

“But, the head can be persuaded” “Can it though?” THAT SHADE AT LOGAN HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK

“Fear will be your enemy” *gay emo panic*

“So you’re saying lock her away because she’s dangerous” GOING BACK TO VIRGIL??? UH????

“JOAN!!!” They definitely wrote that line

Virgil’s mini existential crisis

Remus just yeeted up from behind the couch shirtless oh god was he jacking off to Frozen wtf

REMUS GETTING SO EXCITED ABOUT THE PARENTS DYING IS HONESTLY SO PURE EVEN THOUGH IT’S NOT AT ALL

“I SLEEP IN THE B U F F”

“Did I screw everything up?” “No I threw out your vote so you wouldn’t do that” ROMAN WHAT

Roman: *calls Frozen a Classic* Also Roman: *Makes fun of the entire movie and demands a rewrite*

“How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you’ve taken your sweet time to settle into things that you were uncomfortable with in the past” THAT SHADE!! THAT TEA!! I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THESE *THINGS* PLEASE????

Patton: Let’s relax!! :) Virgil: Bruh I legit AM Anxiety that’s not in my job description

“How many times has our response to a difficult decision been half committing to one option and subsequently panicking about whether that option is our best option until it’s too late for Thomas to change his mind?” “7,430″ MOOD

“Why have a ballroom with no balls?” *Trash boi snickers at the dick joke that wasn’t there until then* "Nope, I’m an adult” (me me big boy-)

ROMAN’S IMPERSONATION OF HIS “EVIL PLOTTING FACE” HAS BE DEAD ON THE FLOOR

“AW MAN YEAH I’M LIKE SO FUCKED UP ON CHOCOLATE FONDUE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING RIGHT NOW” *Patton looks over, concerned* *Virgil looks over, annoyed* *Thomas glances over, lowkey amused* *Logan doesn’t even look at him and just grabs his tea*

NO TURN OFF LOVE IS AN OPEN DOOR IT’S MAKING PATTON SAD (ALSO IS HIS CONNECTION PROJECTING? AND IS ROMAN’S RESPONSE A L S O ACCURATE?)

“There’s no way she’s coming out of this situation without trust issues” honestly though yeah

“Not a footprint to be seen” “Except for the footprints behind you” “hEy YeAh” KEEP IT UP LOGAN YOU’RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE

Virgil: *Serious comment* Patton: “Don’t let them in, don’t let them see...” (did he sing the rest of the song or did he specifically choose these lines because if it’s the second one THAT CAN BE A WHOLE LOT OF ANGST AND I’M HERE FOR IT)

Logan canonically criticizes the movie at movie nights

ALSO GUYS THE VIDEO CAME OUT ON A FRIDAY SO FRIDAY NIGHT MOVIE NIGHTS ARE CANON

“Do you think this ice castle has a lavatory?” “ICE TOILET” “Or a bed?” “ICE BED” “This place sounds awful”

“HE DEFINITELY FUCKS THE REINDEER” “ew”

“You meddled with the vote to ensure that we would watch this and yet you’re the one constantly making fun of it” FACTS LOGAN

“This [^] is how I show my love” WAIT A MINUTE *Looks back at the entire series* HE MADE FUN OF VIRGIL SO MUCH SO WAIT PRINXIETY??? LAMP?? DR LAMP?? (is that the ship name because that’s this video basically*

Nobody: Not a soul: Roman: OLAF’S CONTRIBUTION SHOULD HAVE COUNTED AND SAVED HER

“Like... bruh” mood

“Take care of my sister” “You’ve already done a good job of that yourself Elsa” *hood falls off*

“Ah, we’re all gossipy bitches sometimes” “nO-” (also Roman channeled so much Remy energy right there headcanon they hang out all the time change my mind)

“Oh sweet Frank Iero” I’m using that now

“Just think about it” “LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE”

“Attacking a person for opinions they don’t have doesn’t really do anybody any good” Me: BECAUSE IT DOESN’T WORK!! AYYY YOU LISTENED TO AND ARE REFERENCING LOGAN IN LAST EPISODE??? OR AM I JUST TRASH??

“Oh yeah like me kissing a man is unacceptable?” What a power move though

“AAAAALSJDFOAGHOKLNOIATYRGH” Mood

Ok but also like Virgil basically rapped like that rapid talking was as fast as a bunch of rappers and even faster than some

Logan using the grounding method that my therapist suggested gave me life

Most of Virgil’s grounding answers were existential and oof

“A sour taste in my mouth probably left over from those reheated thai noodle leftovers” *Confused faces*

“FIGURATIVELY” *DWIT has entered the chat*

“Thank you Logan” “No problem, just your cool teacher being his cool self” *sips tea* Felt that. Also I have a new reaction image now XD

“Take it from Frozen’s most inspirational song” Let it Go? “Fixer Upper” Oh but ya know what valid

“Throw a little love their way” Virgil *confused smile?? I think that’s what that is??*

“Elsa, we the villagers have thought it over and with no discussion whatsoever we’ve decided we’re not scared anymore and ice magic is actually cool as hell!!” YEAH WAIT A MINUTE OMG

Logan: *Lists all of Elsa’s powers, reading from a notebook (meaning he took notes while watching the movie which is so in character omg) and implying that there is no way any of that makes sense* Patton: Sounds okay that makes sense

“With Elsa’s seemingly unstoppable “ice powers” I’d imagine Arendelle becomes a global superpower. No military force of that time could ever stand a chance against her never ending army of ice golems”

Nobody: Not a soul: Patton: “True love is a closed door that is eventually opened up to you!”

“What if your soulmate was there” “OH SHIT” I love Roman that was all it took huh

*Deceit has entered the chat* “HISS”

“Don’t touch my shit”

I wish we got to see Deceit’s face there but I get it we couldn’t see him without his hat (except for in the bloopers videos but those don’t count) (Also they probably just didn’t wanna do the makeup for him because it’s a lot and it might’ve been a split second decision and someone else might’ve played him with Thomas just voice recording over it especially considering there’s overlap so they wouldn’t have just been able to split screen it)

“I was gonna rig the vote anyway”

“I don’t know what you’re asking”

Roman is the source of SFW fanfic and Remus is the source of NSFW fanfic and Virgil is the source of angsty fanfic

“I’m going to bed. IN THE B U F F”

THE NEW SWEATERS IM BROKE SO IF SOMEONE WANTS TO GET ME ALL OF THEM (at least just Virgil’s even though I love like all of them)

WAIT THERE’S SCARVES TOO OMG I ALSO WANT ALL OF THEM (or at least,,, nope all of them)

“We were trying to make a slightly simpler video” Video: *is longer than most of season 1′s episodes* *has full body shots of almost all the characters* *has like 5 way split scenes* *uses every side*

WAIT LOGAN BROUGHT BACK OUT HIS ONESIE I LOVE HIM and he’s still got his necktie on just underneath it amazing

This video was just LAMP and potentially DLAMP and maybe DR LAMP if that’s the ship name. There were also a bunch of really good Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Roceit moments in this one so I’m expecting fanfic hella soon

Also as of right now (I finished writing this at like 4am ET) we are still #1 on trending on Tumblr

***We never see Remus’s legs in the video so my theory of there is only one set of legs for the creativitwins still stands and is valid

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dancing-with-dichotomies · 5 years ago

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idk why but I find myself thinking a lot about that mega awkward hug between Voldy and Draco in Deathly Hallows... How so many people say it was completely out of character, but tbh? That scene is one of my personal favorites in all of the Harry Potter movies, like...

20 times. They did that scene 20 (More?) times and the ONLY one where Voldy hugs him is the one they went with... Think about that. That in itself is magical. Even though the scene was completely non-canon and the only one of many shots that turned out like that, but for some reason the ppl watching those shots looked at that one and went, “The movie needs this shot”.

I think if you’re looking at it at face value, “Voldy wanted a hug”, then of course it seems like ridiculous and out of character. The REASON behind the hug is what makes it IC or not. And if the reason was simply “Voldy wanted a hug” then yeah *fart noises* BUT...

If Voldemort wanted to make an entire group of people but especially the pissbaby lackeys that failed him uncomfortable and scared, yeeeeah, hugging the son of the guy that fucked up the hardest is the way to do it. Relishing in the discomfort and terror, feeling Draco’s frame freeze, too scared to even shiver or shake lest the tiniest twitch get him killed, relishing knowing that that boy knows exactly how close he is to death... THAT is terribly on-brand for Voldemort and THAT is what makes that scene, seeing not just Draco but everyone around him so confused and horrified by that action, from THAT guy, so flipping brilliant IMO. You can just tell every living soul witnessing it was wondering it was really just going to be a hug or if Voldemort was about to kill that kid dead.

But also just to take it a step further into “slightly ridiculous” territory, lets assume for a crazy minute that Voldemort actually DID want a hug. Hear me out. What reason could he want for something like that...?

It’s farfetched but listen, I think deep down, though he’d never admit it of course, Voldemort kinda knew how close he was getting to death by that point in the battle. Like yeah he THOUGHT he won for a little while and his hubris definitely would never let him really think about it, but I think beneath it all, after all those horcruxes had been destroyed and Harry came that close, the fear of death at the very least had crept up on him.

If he truly deep down wanted to feel an embrace, I think it was because he was so close to death and had never as a child felt an embrace before. No doubt neither the kids or adults wanted to hug the freak who sets shit on fire, so I think deep, DEEP down, on a totally subconscious level, if Voldemort truly wanted a hug, it was because he was so close to death, and he chose Draco because of all his followers Draco was the closest to a child, the child he never got to hug or be hugged by. In a seriously sick way Voldemort took out his need for a first and final affection on a kid... And if that doesn’t make that scene creepier than it is just plain awkward, IDK what will.

(Also, just saying, if anyone wants to write a fic where your favorite ship shows Draco how to enjoy being hugged again after being traumatized by this, I think that’s a pretty awesome idea~ X3)

#harry potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #voldemort #lord voldemort #draco malfoy

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waking-dreams-of-harmony · 5 years ago

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Happy Name Day to @adecila! Alice, in appreciation of you being the wonderful person that you are, here's a little edit of a scene we never got--did my best!😳--and a one shot to go with it (with the real Jon Snow, thank you very much). I’m not a great writer, but hopefully it’s tolerable! Hoping you have a fantastic birthday Alice! ❤️

Jonerysweek Day 3: I’m Hers, She’s Mine (now on ao3 😊)

They were married.

Even after having sworn their vows before the heart tree, even after their last words echoed into the godswood--I am hers, she is mine--and he'd swepted her up in a deep kiss to the raucious cheers of those around them, Jon still couldn’t believe that he was now wed to Daenerys. His wife.

The title sat warm and comforting in his chest, where the ghost of what had been done to him had oft left an ache that he never thought would leave him. But now that ache was gone, soothed by the woman at his side, his Queen, who had not only saved him more times than he could count on the battlefield, brought her armies and her children to save the whole bloody realm to be sure, but who had also saved him from the darkness that had lingered after he was resurrected; her fire, her passion, and her gentle heart had brought him back to life in a way that Melisandre and her Lord of Light had not.

Looking down at Dany, at her bright smile that crinkled her eyes just so--he had not seen her smile like that since they’d left the ship, and he vowed then and there to give her more reasons to do so again--he thanked the gods that he would have the chance to live whatever remained of his days with this woman that had captured his heart so quickly, and so thoroughly.

His lips tipped up in a gentle smile at the way she gripped the winter roses he had given her before the ceremony, remembering her eyes widening and her lips parting in pleasure at the blue blossoms. A sudden image of the petals spread across the bed, Daenerys lying atop them, supple arms and legs wrapped around his body, head thrown back and kiss swollen lips parted in another sort of pleasure as he thrust into her welcoming body over and over again, flooded his mind and he bit back a curse as his body reacted, breeches fitting him uncomfortably now; he huffed out a frustrated breath, thanking the gods once again that his thick clothing hid his growing problem...for the moment.

At the noise he made, Daenerys looked up at him. She must have felt his arm stiffen against her as well, and raised one of her expressive brows as she teased, “Something the matter Jon? Regretting the deed already?”

Jon chuckled spite of his current situation; he tipped his head towards her, his lips grazing her ear as he murmured, “Regret marrying the most beautiful and powerful woman in all the seven kingdoms?” He brushed his mouth just behind her ear, the skin smooth and fragrant with the scented oils she like to use. “Never.”

He felt her skin flush with heat at his words and his barely there kiss, and she turned her heard towards him, her violet eyes warm with affection. “Then what has you so tense my love?”

Jon, knowing he wouldn't be able to lie to his wife, gently growled so only she could hear, "I imagined you laying on our bed, those roses spread underneath your body while I fucked you...Your Grace".

He watched as her eyes widened in surprise, not at his bluntness, she was rather used to that now, but for what his words meant; her gaze dropped down to his groin and quickly back up again before anyone could possibly notice, and by the twitch of her lips he could tell she was trying not to laugh at his predicament.

She managed a coy smile instead. "Ah, I see your problem, my dear husband." After a short, charged pause, she asked innocently, "What shall we do about it?"

Jon stifled a groan, knowing exactly what he wanted to do about it; tell everyone to sod off so he could carry his bride to their room and do exactly what had gotten him into this bloody uncomfortable situation, for the rest of the night and well into the morning.

But he knew they couldn't, at least not now; everyone was making their way out of the godswood to celebrate their nuptials with ale and wine and tables filled with food that Daenerys had generously supplied from her own stores, and they at least had to put in an appearance for a short while before they disappeared for the evening.

Letting out a gruff sigh, mouth twisted wryly, Jon said, "I know we need to stay with our people for the feast, so there's nothing for it right now."

She tipped her head in agreement, eyes twinkling with mirth. Then he added in a rough whisper against her cheek, "But as soon as it's appropriate, I'm going to take you to our rooms, lay you out on the bed exactly as I imagined, and take my time worshippin' every inch of you for the rest of the night."

When Daenerys slowly dragged her small white teeth over the corner of her plump bottom lip, eyes darkening with want and cheeks flushing a pretty pink, he nearly forgot himself then and there; but then he felt her gloved hand gently sliding across his arm in a soothing gesture, her face taking on a softer look, and it had the ravenous beast in him calming like a direwolf pup.

She reached up and placed her hand against his cheek, leather catching slightly on his short beard. "We have all night for that, my love, I promise. This night, and every other night for all of our days to be together as we wish."

Jon closed his eyes against the sting of tears that suddenly threatened to fall; he never thought he would have this, never thought he would find someone who loved him as Daenerys did, completely and without condition, who looked at him and never saw a bastard of Winterfell, Ned Stark’s shame, but as an equal, as Jon Snow, the man that had won her heart as she had won his. He never expected this, and now that he had it, had her warmth and care and love, he vowed to never do anything to lose it.

Roughly clearing his throat, Jon managed a small smile. "Aye, my Queen, we do. And I promise you that I will behave myself until then."

Daenerys huffed out a silent laugh, stroking his cheek lovingly one last time, a deeply fond look on her face, before she tucked her hand back into the crook of his arm, pulling him closer against her. She shifted the flowers in her other arm, bringing them up to her nose to breathe in their scent, then flashed him a brilliant smile. "Then we best set out my King. The sooner we feast, the sooner you can show me, in detail, what put you in such a...delicate state."

Jon playfully growled at her, hiding his growing smile in a kiss pressed against the side of her head, wisps of her moonlit hair tickling his nose. Daenerys giggled at the feel of his beard against her skin, the sound making his heart swell.

Still smiling, she pulled on his arm to get him moving, and Jon went without hesitation. He would follow Daenerys wherever she lead, arm in arm, hand in hand, for all the rest of their days.

He loved her. And she loved him. And that was all that mattered.

#jonerys #jon x dany #jon x daenerys #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jonerys week #jonerys week 2019 #jonerysweek2019 #hope you have an amazing birthday Alice!

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lowtldes · 6 years ago

Text

your sharp and glorious thorn

rating: M (for game-typical violence)

ships: arthur morgan/original female character

chapter: 2/?

previous chapters: chapter one [tumblr] [ao3]

words: 6k

tags: slow burn, treasure hunting

warnings: game-typical violence

chapter summary: Arthur crosses paths with Iris sooner than he’d like.

also on ao3!

Arthur doesn’t like riding into Strawberry. It’s not that he’s nervous someone will recognize him from the time he broke Micah out of jail, it has more to do with the fact that he and Micah just about killed half the town.

No one is going to recognize him. No one is alive to recognize him. And it’s that that stirs guilt in his belly. He’s never been one to enjoy killing needlessly. Let alone half a town of innocent people.

Arthur lights a cigarette, pressing it between his lips to stop himself from gritting his teeth. No, Micah Bell has already ruined enough things for the gang, Arthur’s not going to let the mere thought of the man ruin his day now too.

STRAWBERRY. Arthur lets his eyes linger on the overhead sign as he takes a drag of his cigarette, passing through his exhaled smoke, looking as if a fog had parted for the tourist town to grace his vision.

He can probably stay the night here, before setting out again tomorrow. Watson’s Cabin, right up north in Big Valley. A tip worth looking into, especially since he was only a day’s ride out of Strawberry when he heard about it.

Back in Strawberry, barely two days since he beat that godawful old man and left his granddaughter with a bunch of dead bodies by the dam. He sighs. This robbery better be worth it, he’s spent far too much time away from camp, he’s gotta have something good to show for it when he gets back to Horseshoe Overlook.

“You… What the hell are you doing back here!”

Arthur tenses up. Hopefully they weren’t talking to him.

“Hey, hey, I’m talkin’ to you!”

Arthur sighs and stops his horse, Charon, right outside the hotel. The mayor’s reciting the same speech he hears every time he rides into town, it’s nothing but background noise now, just about as significant as the cigarette butt Arthur tosses into the dirt.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya,” Arthur grumbles and slides off his horse. He turns around, briefly looking for the source of the voice before he wrinkles his nose at the sight of the man.

It’s Jameson Cole, looking about as drunk as Uncle on his birthday. Whatever this man has to say to Arthur, it isn’t going to be any good. At least this isn’t going to be about that awful business with Micah.

“Mr. Cole,” Arthur greets coolly as the old man staggers towards him, bottle in hand. Jesus, the man hasn’t even crossed the road and Arthur can smell him from here. “I think it’s best you and I don’t talk.”

“You—y-you good fer nothin’ thief,” Cole hiccups when he’s close enough to Arthur, much to the dismay of Arthur’s sense of smell. “You kidnapper!”

“Excuse me?” Arthur says slowly, quietly, not keen on the attention the man’s words are drawing to the pair of them. The new Sheriff is an earshot away, dammit, Arthur doesn’t need those kinds of eyes on him right now. “I stole nothin’ you didn’t owe. If my memory serves right, it weren’t even you that paid. It was—”

“Iris! Oh, you bastard,” Cole wails, pausing to take another swig from his bottle. He jabs Arthur in the chest with his index finger. “You! You took ‘er! Stole her away and now I gotta beg on the street for a drink! Kidnapper!”

Folk are staring at them now. Women swiftly walking away from the scene, men eyeing Arthur suspiciously with their hands resting heavily on their guns.

Arthur’s spilled enough blood in Strawberry. He doesn’t want another fight on his hands, not here. He raises his hands in surrender, leaning back from old Jameson Cole and his whiskey stench. “You’re drunk, old man. Get out of here and stop makin’ a scene.”

Jameson Cole blinks blearily at Arthur, breaths coming out like wheezes. “You give her back. You give back Iris, oh, stupid little Iris, I’m afraid the house neeeeeds a cleaning! She ain’t been back since ya ran off with her!”

“I don’t have her, you old fool,” Arthur sneers, walking away from the man. “Maybe your granddaughter saw sense and ran far away from ya!”

Arthur shouldn’t care, the Coles are people he should be done with. If the world were in any way kind to him, he’d have never seen them again. But the knowledge that Miss Iris Cole didn’t return home after that whole mess with the treasure hunters doesn’t sit well with him.

Should’ve seen to it that she got home safe, he berates himself, you goddamn idiot, Morgan. What kind of man does that? Leave a woman out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a bunch of dead bodies? This is why he loathes debt collection. Arthur’s already a bad man, he knows that, but collecting debts has always brought out a shade of himself he does not like any more than he likes his usual self.

Arthur sighs and mounts Charon again, muttering under his breath. “Don’t owe these people a goddamn thing. Ah, you fool, Morgan.”

He starts to ride out of Strawberry—so much for a night in the hotel—and takes the road leading in the direction of Owanjila.

“Hey, you!” Someone calls to him at the end of the main road—a young woman lugging a bucket full of fresh water. “Mister, I heard you talking to that awful old man.”

Arthur slows his horse, running a tired hand down his face. “Listen, Miss, I already told the man I don’t have his granddaughter—”

“But you’re heading out to look for her, right?” The woman presses, a bit of water sloshing out of the bucket. “That’s why you’re leaving town?”

“Yeah,” Arthur grunts, half shrugging. “I guess.”

“I work with Iris at the hotel,” the woman says, frowning softly, concerned. “She came to the hotel last night. Late last night, a strange look in her eyes. She told me Mr. Davis is dead and that she’s leaving.”

“Leaving? Where?”

“She didn’t say exactly,” the woman’s frown deepens. “I don’t think she quite knew where she was goin’ either. Just said. North. North of Big Valley. If you’re looking for her, you might want to start there.”

“Big Valley,” Arthur nods. The cabin he plans to rob is around there. Good. This won’t be a complete waste of his time. “Thank you, Miss.”

“Please find her, sir. She didn’t… she looked—she didn’t look quite right.”

Guilt stirs in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll get moving, then. Have a good afternoon, Miss.”

Iris ignores her rumbling stomach and walks along the road, treasure map clutched in one hand and Sammy's reigns in the other.

Her feet hurt. These old boots certainly weren’t made for walking, but she keeps on.

She knows where the treasure is. Or, at least, she'll know it when she sees it. There's no special instinct to treasure hunting, after all. Considering what Mr. Morgan did yesterday (or was it the day before?), it's as easy as sticking your arm into a hollow rock.

The treasure is by water, a shallow bed of water, according to the illustration on the map. And it's in Big Valley. That, she knows. Has to be. It's a gut feeling. Perhaps there is a special instinct.

Sammy lets out a whinny of protest, nodding his head and almost yanking the reigns out of Iris’s hand.

“I know,” Iris says. “I know, I know. But we're almost there, Sammy. We have to be. We ain’t riding back to Strawberry any time soon.”

Sammy huffs, sounding almost disapproving, but begins to follow again when Iris tugs on the reigns.

There’s that thundering sound again, her stomach groaning for food. Iris doesn’t have any food. She knows nothing of plant life, either. She only knows that eating the wrong plant can be a deadly thing. Better to be hungry for a day than to die by a plant.

The thundering sound continues, though her stomach has stopped its protests. The sound is distant, getting closer by the second. It's a rider, she realizes, the familiar galloping sound of a horse.

Iris stops and turns in the direction of the sound. Whoever it is, they’re heading straight towards her.

Oh. It’s the outlaw.

Iris clutches the map tight in her hand and stands close to Sammy, right next to the saddlebags. If he’s changed his mind and come back to rob her, she’s got one of the dead treasure hunter’s cattleman revolvers.

The memory of Mr. Morgan gunning down the treasure hunters is fresh on her mind again. He moves fast, Iris probably wouldn’t even be able to pull out her gun before he robs her. She’d at least like to try to get a few shots in, though.

He clicks his tongue and stops his horse when he’s close enough. His guns, notably, are in their respective holsters, not at all drawn and pointed at Iris when he dismounts his horse.

“Miss Cole,” he greets, hands resting on his gun belt. He’s exactly the same as when she first met him, lurking outside her homestead like a bad omen. Only this time, there’s no growl to his voice. There’s a roughness that’s still there, ever-present to the man’s voice, but this time around his greeting doesn’t sound like danger.

“Mr. Morgan,” she says back, voice feeble not with fear but with a tiredness. “You’ve… you’ve returned to rob me.”

Mr. Morgan tilts his head back, scrutinizing her from under the brim of his hat.

Iris is sure she looks as though some sort of fiendish wind has passed through. She hasn’t spared a moment to maintain a civilized appearance—her braid is all out of sorts from the wind and her fidgeting with it, her skirts are muddy from all the walking, her shoes are on the verge of falling to pieces, and she’s quite sure that her sore eyes are bloodshot, with darkened circles of exhaustion to complete the look.

Oh, she must look half-mad.

“No, ah,” the outlaw clears his throat awkwardly, scratching at his short beard. “No, I am not here to rob you.”

“Then what is this?” Iris frowns, hand tightening on Sammy’s reigns. “Have I stolen something of yours, then? Another debt that has to be paid?”

Mr. Morgan looks uncomfortable. “No.”

“Then why have you sought me out? I thought you’d have gone far, far away from Strawberry by now.”

“Well,” Mr. Morgan takes a step forward, cautious as though he might spook her. “The people in town said you haven’t been seen for a good while, and I didn’t like how I just left you in the middle of nowhere the other day, so I came out to… well, to check on ya.”

“Do you always check on your debtors after you’ve taken their money?”

He frowns. “Well, no. But—"

“Then why bother? You don’t have a to give me, or my granddaddy, or the entirety of Strawberry a second thought. A lapse of judgement is what you’re experiencing, Mr. Morgan. So allow me to direct you back to Strawberry, and we can go our separate ways.”

Mr. Morgan’s voice rises an octave, indignance lacing his voice. “Direct me back to Str—”

“To Strawberry, yes.” Iris lets go of Sammy’s reigns and crosses the short distance between them. She rests her hand lightly on Mr. Morgan’s arm and nudges him to turn around, pointing somewhere off behind him with the map clutched tight in her hand. “You can get to Strawberry simply by going back the direction you came from.”

Mr. Morgan resists at first, then obliges her light shoving and turns. “I know that, Miss Cole. You might think me a fool, but I’m at least a fool who knows where he’s going—is that a treasure map?”

“It is.” Iris swiftly retracts herself from his space and starts walking away, her sore feet screaming with each step. “And it’s close.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? People are worried about ya, Miss Cole.”

“I’m sure the only person breaking a sweat is Gramps, since I’m not there to clean up after him.”

“Well, what about your job?” Mr. Morgan says, following hastily after her. “Ain’t the hotel manager wondering where you are?”

“The hotel manager is dead,” Iris reminds him, halting to glare at a spot in the distance. Little Creek River. “Those treasure hunters shot Mr. Davis in the head.”

“Shit. Well… well someone else must’ve stepped up in the hotel,” Mr. Morgan says slowly, trying to salvage whatever’s left of his persuasion attempt. “There’s gotta be somethin’ in town that you gotta get back to. You can’t just wander around forever.”

Iris briskly spins around to glare at him. Mr. Morgan’s standing close enough that her long dark braid whips across his chest at the motion. “My boss at the hotel is dead. My job is most likely up in the air at the moment, and this is a moment I’d like to take to reflect on how I’ve been living my life.”

Mr. Morgan presses his lips together. “But you got—”

“I have nothing in that town, in that life, except for my leech of a granddaddy!” Iris looks at the worn map in her hands and sighs. “I don’t know if I want to go back to Strawberry, Mr. Morgan. I feel as though I’ve been going through my life like a phantom, and I need to start going through it like a person. With… with some kind of ambition. Something to look forward to.”

“Those are some dangerous thoughts, Miss Cole.”

“Are they?” Iris sighs again. “Twenty-seven years wasted in Strawberry. Did you know I’ve never set foot outside of West Elizabeth? Let alone Big Valley? I’ve got nothing to show for my life.”

“You don’t…” Mr. Morgan scowls. “You don’t have to show anyone anything.”

“I want to show myself something,” Iris says firmly, steeling his gaze. He often hides underneath his hat, she’s noticed, and being close enough now to peek under the brim and catch his blue-green eyes feels like she’s discovered something hidden once again. “I don’t know what I plan to do with my life after this, but for now, all I know is that I want to find this treasure. I want to show myself that I can find it.”

“And where is this treasure, huh?” Mr. Morgan scoffs. “No need to get all protective. I ain’t gonna take it from ya. I just… you—you look like hell, Miss Cole.”

Iris feels her face heat up. She scowls and walks away from him again, towards the soft sounds of trickling water. “I’m going to get this treasure, with or without your bothering.”

She hears Mr. Morgan mutter something under his breath, but he keeps following her. Risking a glance back, she sees that their horses are following after them slowly.

Little Creek River looks shallow enough that the water would barely come up to her ankles. Iris does her best to ignore Mr. Morgan’s lingering, glaring hard at the map while she hears him light a cigarette.

This looks like the spot. The way the illustration’s lines are darker around this particular bend looks precisely the same as the area in front of her. Iris’ eyes flit back and forth between the map and the riverbend before her. The X looks to be about ten feet away, buried right in the bed of the creek.

“How do you know that this is the river in the map?” Mr. Morgan’s voice grates over her thinking. He stands by their horses, cigarette between his fingers and a curious look on his face.

“I like riding around the valley when I get the time,” Iris answers, folding up the map and walking towards the treasure spot, the soil wet beneath her boots. “Not as often as I’d like, but… I admire the landscapes long enough to guess right about which stone goes where.”

“Well, you found that treasure last time. I can’t argue with that.” He snuffs the cigarette and looks around. “Damn. It’s gonna be dark any minute now.”

“Scared of the dark, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nah. Just don’t wanna die like an idiot, is all.” He walks to where she’s standing in the creek, brows raised as she kicks around the silt. “The wildlife around ain’t something to underestimate. Especially in the dark.”

Iris glances at him before sticking her hands into the cold, cold water to dig. “Could we camp, perhaps?”

“We?”

“I’m assuming you’re not going to leave me alone until we get back to Strawberry.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Mr. Morgan sighs. “Just… get a move on with that, will ya? Sun’s already coming down, and I’d rather find somewhere with four walls and a roof.”

Iris snorts, extracting her hands from the silt and opting to dig into the spot beside her previous attempt. “I suppose that’s better than a tent. But I doubt the folk living up in these parts would be hospitable.”

“There’s a cabin a heard about. I was plannin’ to camp there for a night or two to scope out another place nearby. Vetter’s Echo, I think it was called. Heard the owner hasn’t been seen for a long time. Whoever they are, they’re likely long gone, I’m positive they won’t mind if we use their place as shelter.”

“What were you planning to head up here for, if not to find me for whatever’s nagging at your conscience?” Iris says, then snorts. “An outlaw with a conscience, how ironic.”

Mr. Morgan makes a noncommittal sound. “It’s none of your business. Anyway, the cabin should just be up the ways from here. There’s likely some provisions there, which we need, because you’re lookin’ mighty peckish.”

“Were you planning a robbery?”

“None of your goddamn business, Miss Cole. You don’t need to get involved with that,” Mr. Morgan says firmly, all but confirming her suspicions.

Iris quietly wonders if she does want to get involved with that. She digs deeper into the silt, dirt getting caught beneath her fingernails. What does she plan to do after all of this? She can’t go back to monotonous life in Strawberry. She refuses.

Her nails scrape against something solid in the dirt. Iris jumps at the contact. “Oh! I’ve found it!”

Whatever it is, it’s smaller than a buried treasure chest from pirate stories. Definitely not shaped like any container Iris has seen before. Her fingers find some part to grip and curl around it, pulling it out of the riverbed. The top of it emerges from the silt as she pulls it up, smooth and bone white under the water.

Iris manages to pull the treasure up halfway before she recoils with a shriek, falling backward into the creek and soaking up even more of her skirts.

Mr. Morgan is next to her in a second, boots splashing in the shallow water and hands hovering cautiously over her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Iris doesn’t answer, just stares wide-eyed at the human skull still stuck in the silt. The human skull she dug up with her bare hands. Her skin crawls.

Mr. Morgan eyes follow to where she’s looking. He breathes an astounded, eloquent, “Jesus.”

“I… I touched it. Him. Her. Whoever they were,” Iris whispers, distraught. “I…”

“Well,” Mr. Morgan mutters, wading over to the skull. “Looks like you found your treasure.”

Mr. Morgan pulls the skull out of the silt and water, standing to his full height. Something about seeing him—someone else—taking her findings in their hands kicks Iris back into motion. Splashing a bit in the creek, Iris scrambles to a stand and snatches the skull right out of the outlaw’s hands.

“Thought you were frightened of it,” he says, shrugging and raising his hands in surrender.

Maybe at first.

“I was just surprised,” Iris says, narrowing her eyes at the small grin on his face. She turns her attention back to the skull. “Whoever this dead fella was… he can’t hurt me. Why should I be scared?”

“It’s not every day you dig up a dead head with your bare hands,” Mr. Morgan offers, perhaps attempting to console her. “Surprise and, uh, fear—it’s reasonable.”

Iris doesn’t answer him, but she frowns anyway, looking down at the skull so maybe Mr. Morgan doesn’t see her flushed face.

It’s already dark, the sun had fully set while she was digging, but Iris sees something in the skull’s hollowed eye catch briefly under the starlight. The smallest of shines.

“Miss Cole,” Mr. Morgan says, standing much closer now to look at the skull over her shoulder. His clothes smell like cigarette smoke. “I think you’re gonna have to—”

“Yes,” Iris cuts his sentence off swiftly, quietly. She swallows hard. “Yes, I see.”

“Would you like me to do it? It’ll still be your treasure, even if you let me.”

“I can do it. I will do it.”

Iris readjusts the skull in her hands, turning it upside down. She keeps a firm grip on the jaw, fingers sliding into the small, stiff opening of the mouth. With her other hand, she hooks her fingers into both eye holes, grimacing.

Sorry, she thinks. Then she pulls her hands apart with a sharp tug.

There’s a crunch as the jawbone snaps clean off, Mr. Morgan standing so close that with the force of her tug she accidentally elbows him when the piece comes loose. He lets out a small, winded oof as her elbow collides with his gut.

“Oh, sorry,” Iris says quietly, out of polite instinct. She’s not really paying attention, instead gazing into the hollow of the opened skull.

“No harm done,” he mutters.

There’s still quite a bit of bone in the way, but Iris turns the skull back right side up and shakes its contents into her palm. Several gold coins fall out, along with two more gold nuggets, and a small scrap of paper.

“You’re telling me that all this was buried not even a foot into the ground, for any fool to find?” Mr. Morgan huffs. “I should give up robberies n’ just start digging.”

“Any fool with a map,” Iris corrects, staring at the gold bunched in her hand with wide, wide eyes.

“And you knew exactly where it was again,” Mr. Morgan muses, stepping back and adjusting his hat. “Think you got a knack for this, Miss Cole.”

“I do, don’t I?” Iris looks down at herself, holding the treasures tight in her hand and the skull in the other. No bag, no pockets. She looks back up, past Mr. Morgan’s impressed expression and instead squints at the horses grazing several feet behind him. “Sammy! Sammy over here!”

Sammy finds the grass more interesting than the gold Iris is holding. Typical, that horse never listens to anyone.

“I’ll get him,” Mr. Morgan says, waving a hand as he walks away from her. He takes Sammy’s reigns and starts leading the horse towards where Iris stands by the creek, and whistles for his own dark horse to follow. “Charon! Follow me, boy.”

“Charon?” Iris asks when he’s back within earshot. “How dramatic of you.”

“Thought it’d fit him well,” the outlaw smiles fondly, tugging Sammy’s reigns. “I stole him at this show just outside of Valentine. There was a man on the stage, no arms and no legs, telling old Greek tales.”

“And you stole his horse?” Iris asks, clutching the skull and gold close to her chest.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Some bastard thought it’d be funny to throw things at the storyteller. He had a fine horse. That’s Charon right here,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to his horse following him. “This here’s a dark bay Andalusian—a war horse. Thought it’d be nice to name him after that half-horse half-man the limbless man spoke of. The one who trained heroes.”

Iris frowns. She’s not the most educated person. Not educated like those city folks who stay at the hotel, but she has read some books, especially the ones educated city folk accidentally leave behind. A book about old myths from far away lands kept her up for weeks.

“Forgive me, Mr. Morgan, but I think you’re confused.”

He stops Sammy right in front of her and lets go of the reigns. “Confused?”

“The half-horse half-man you’re thinking of is Chiron. An easy mistake, I suppose, since the names are quite similar.”

Mr. Morgan stops and stares at her in disbelief. Perhaps he’s expecting her to laugh and joke, but she’s quite sure that Charon is not the figure he’s thinking of.

“Goddammit,” he exhales, voice rising an octave. He shakes his head, hiding beneath the brim of his hat. Iris wonders if he’s blushing. “So you’re tellin’ me I’ve been calling my horse some nonsense this whole time?”

“Not quite nonsense, no.” Iris walks over to Sammy’s saddlebag. “If I recall, Charon served as a ferryman to bring souls to Hades.”

Mr. Morgan hums, squinting at his horse as if to see if the story sticks.

Iris tries to fit the treasures in the small saddlebag, but the gun she picked off the dead treasure hunter is in the way. “If you keep the name, your horse is now death’s ferryman. Do you… do you see yourself as death, Mr. Morgan? Or I suppose the name could extend to you, making your horse the vessel and you the actual ferryman.”

“Well…” Mr. Morgan rests his hands on his gun belt, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I have killed some people… quite a lot of people. But it was them or me. Ah, I shouldn’t be saying these things to a lady.”

Before Iris can respond, she grabs the gun in the saddlebag the wrong way. Intending to extract it from the bag to make room, she accidentally hits the trigger and a shot fires a hole out of the bottom of the bag.

“Oh!” Iris startles back, ears ringing from the closeness of the gunshot. Sammy whinnies and rocks his head back and forth in a panic. Charon, on the other hand, doesn’t flinch at the sound.

“Jesus!” Mr. Morgan yells, hand instinctively falling to one of the revolvers holstered on his belt. “What the hell was that?”

“I… the gun—shit, I blew a hole through the saddlebag!”

“Why is there a gun in the saddlebag?”

“I took it from one of those treasure hunters you killed!” Iris snaps back at him. “What’s the problem with keeping it in on my horse, anyway? You got an entire armory on your war horse, Mister.”

Mr. Morgan sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

“Oh, this damn bag is ruined.” The saddlebag is useless now. The hole at the bottom is big enough for any of the treasures to fall out.

Mr. Morgan motions for her to come closer. “Alright, give the gold to me. I can put it in my satchel for the time being.”

“No!” Iris scowls, holding the treasures close. “Do you take me for some kind of idiot?”

“You’re an idiot if you think it’ll be a good idea to walk back into Strawberry holding that gold out for everyone to see.”

“How do I know you won’t just run away the moment I hand the gold over to you?”

Mr. Morgan places his hand on his chest, eyes serious. “I give ya my word that I won’t, Miss. I just wanna see you home safe.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Iris says. “You’ve made it clear several times that you rob people for a living.”

Something moves in Sammy’s saddlebag. A slow, sliding movement before it falls right out of the hole and lands on the grass with a thump. Her first gold nugget from the last treasure.

“Miss Cole, your treasure’s as good as gone if you try carrying it in that bag. I promise I won’t steal from you.”

Iris narrows her eyes at him, trying to look as threatening as she can, but the threat is lost the moment her hungry stomach rumbles as loud as thunder in the sky. Mr. Morgan’s lips quirk, the damned outlaw is trying not to laugh.

“Alright. Fine,” Iris frowns, stepping towards him. “Put it in your bag.”

Mr. Morgan flashes her a small, tight smile and moves for his satchel, opening it up for her to dump her gold into.

“You’re not keeping that skull, are ya?”

“I thought it could be a souvenir. A trophy for my findings.”

“I’m not carrying a dead fella in my satchel.”

“Oh, alright,” Iris says, slightly dejected. She turns around and tosses the skull back into the creek.

“Poor bastard,” Mr. Morgan says, watching the skull splash into the water. He picks up the last gold nugget from the ground and turns to his horse. “Come on, I’m sure there’ll be some food for you at Vetter’s Echo.”

The cabin is one of the smallest Iris has ever seen, and the moment she and Mr. Morgan hitch their horses a bad feeling settles in the pit of her stomach.

“Keep that gun with ya,” Mr. Morgan says. “We might find a holster for that in here. That means no more shooting holes through bags.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Iris asks, following him up the path. “What if someone is still living there? What if they don’t want us around?”

In the dark, the cabin looks eerie. What if whoever’s inside has gone mad from the isolation? What if they try to attack Mr. Morgan? Or if they try to attack her?

Iris tightens her hold on the treasure hunter’s revolver—her revolver. I’m a treasure hunter now too, I suppose.

“Then we rob whoever’s living in here,” Mr. Morgan shrugs, answering as if the answer was the simplest thing in the world. “Just enough to be on our way, we won’t let ‘em starve.”

“I saw camp supplies on your horse,” Iris suggests, casting a glance back at Charon in the trees. “Why couldn’t we just camp?”

“A fire and a tent ain’t gonna protect us if someone or some animal gets the wrong idea about approaching us,” Mr. Morgan answers gruffly. “Now if I was on my own, maybe I would’ve. But I think you’d be better indoors. Less chance for predators.”

Iris stops on the steps up to the cabin while Mr. Morgan quietly turns the doorknob. He grimaces when the door swings open with a rather loud creak, then takes a cautious step inside. Iris begins to follow him inside, but freezes when she hears a loud, loud rumble of breath.

“Shit,” is all she hears from Mr. Morgan inside before the roar of some kind of behemoth shakes the cabin.

There’s a shout from Mr. Morgan, and Iris makes it to the door to see a bear on top of him, roaring and clawing at him. The back of the cabin looks like it’s been torn open long ago, and judging by the old corpse on the floor next to Mr. Morgan, this bear has been the only occupant of the cabin for quite some time.

Iris screams, unsure what to do as Mr. Morgan gets mauled, fear freezing the blood in her veins. She’s never seen a bear up close, and her mind can’t fathom just how big a bear is. The walls of the cabin are practically hugging the creature.

Mr. Morgan cries out again, drawing a knife and slashing at the beast, and it’s only then that Iris registers that she’s here and that she can do something. Something, maybe, with the gun in her hands.

“What in high hell!” Someone screams, voice full of terror. Oh, it’s coming from her, she’s the one doing the screaming.

Mr. Morgan just barely dodges a swipe of the bear’s teeth before Iris finally kicks into motion, drawing her revolver and unloading every bullet left.

Which is about three bullets.

The bear roars as the bullets embed themselves into its hide, but it doesn’t seem to be too injured. Instead, it is still very intent on making Mr. Morgan its next meal. She watches Mr. Morgan continue his struggle, there’s a blur of the bear’s paws and suddenly a bleeding scratch on his arm.

Then she sees an old shotgun, lying on the ground between Mr. Morgan and the old corpse.

Iris has never fired a shotgun before.

She darts down for it, not really having to avoid the bear as it doesn’t even seem to be aware of her existence, and checks to see if the shotgun is loaded. Iris steps back into the doorframe and takes aim, this time being sure to not fire blindly and instead target the bear’s face.

In the heat of the moment, Iris forgets that some guns, powerful guns, not only pack a punch to whoever’s being shot, but also to whoever’s doing the shooting if they’re not prepared for it. Iris pulls the trigger, the blast of the gun deafening, and she sees the shot go right for the bear’s face before the recoil violently flings her back.

Iris hits the railing hard, promptly tumbling backward over it with a scream and free-falling several feet before she hits the ground.

She lies on the lumpy ground, flat on her back and blinking stars. Distantly, she still hears the bear’s growling, but now she hears Mr. Morgan’s ragged voice as well, calling out for her.

“Miss Cole! Goddammit! Miss Cole, you alive?”

Iris’ vision clears, and oh, the bear has left the cabin, breaking through the railing and heading straight for her. Its face is bloody, very bloody. Did I do that?

Oh, the bear looks very angry with her. Absolutely livid.

“Oh no,” she mumbles, disoriented, voice failing her as she starts backing away in the dirt. “Oh, please no.”

“Hey!” Mr. Morgan calls out, a desperate note to his rough voice. “Hey, you big bastard!”

The bear rises to its hind legs, towering over Iris and roaring. A shot rings out, and both the bear and Iris look back at the cabin to see Mr. Morgan standing by the broken rails, his hat gone to reveal a mop of short brown hair, pointing two revolvers at the bear with a furious look on his face.

Mr. Morgan fires both guns at the bear’s face. In that second, it’s as if there’s no end to the bullets. The speed of it takes Iris right back to when he gunned down those two treasure hunters before they could even blink.

The bear lets out one last groan before it collapses onto the ground, its big, bloody head landing right in front of Iris.

Mr. Morgan holsters his guns and starts walking over to her and the bear. “Did it get ya?”

Iris doesn’t directly answer. She only leans back to lie flat on the grass again, a twig poking into her head as she looks up at the night sky. “Oh my goodness.”

“I was not expecting that,” Mr. Morgan murmurs, kicking the bear’s paw as he inspects the corpse. “Thank you, by the way.”

Iris sits up, willing her heart to stop its panicked racing. “For what?”

“Shootin’ the damn thing. Saved my life.”

“Well, you killed it. I s’pose I should thank you for saving my life as well.”

“Nah,” he says, smoothing back his hair. “Makes us even, I guess.”

He then draws a knife, bends down, and begins cutting away into the bear.

“What… what are you doing, Mr. Morgan?”

“Arthur,” he says.

“Pardon?”

“Just call me Arthur.”

“Okay… Arthur. Well, then you can just call me Iris. I suppose there’s no need for formalities if you’ve fought a bear together.”

Mr. Morgan—Arthur—huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I think camping might be safer, Arthur.”

“Yeah. That ain’t no four walls and a roof up there anyway.”

“Three walls and a dead man.”

Arthur snorts and tears at the bear’s skin. “Better him than us, Miss—uh, Iris.”

Iris plucks a leaf out of her hair. “Better him than us.”

#rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #rdr2 #oc: iris #fic: your sharp and glorious thorn #my writing #yes i did this instead of my piles of homework

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 7 years ago

Text

Lance gets bad news, Keith gets bottomed?, and Allura gets to see...

Something was definitely going on with Lance, something that was more than simple tiredness. Lance wouldn't even look him in the eye after talking him through how to perform a scan with the castle's equipment. Keith hadn't seen anything wrong with Lance, still he'd gone ahead and set up an IV line for his mate, staying by his side until the sedatives had kicked in and Lance was out cold. Normally Lance didn't require sedatives to sleep, but Keith had a feeling his mate would insist on dragging himself up to the bridge to wait for the others if he hadn't administer under the guise of painkiller for Lance's still aching head. From the moment the machine stopped it's scan, right up to the moment Lance fell asleep, his mate stared across the room at their son's on the other bed. Maybe Lance was just trying to calm his omega down? He said it was feeling clucky... did that mean Lance wanted more pups already? He said he couldn't go through birth again, so Keith had kind of accepted that the twins might be the only children they'd have, and he'd made peace with that. Lance's health and safety came first, as well as the fact it was Lance's body, so at the end of the day, his mate had full control of what happened to it... it just confused him that Lance was bringing it all up again after going on a mission with Lotor and Shiro, both of which had slept with his mate at some point... well Lotor was a maybe, he'd definitely touched Lance, but neither of them knew how far he'd taken it.

Leaving Lance sleeping, Keith carried the boys up to the bridge. With their energetic movements, the last thing they needed was for one of the pups to fall from the bed, or even worse, for them both too and be seriously hurt. Allura, Coran and Krolia were all standing, waiting for Pidge, or Hunk to call through

"Any news?"

"No. How's Lance?"

"He's sleeping in the medical bay, despite being in the pod, he's still a little uncomfortable"

"Nothing too bad, I hope"

"No Coran, thanks to all your help, we now know how to work the scanner and nothing came up on his scan"

"Are you sure? I mean, Coran is the expert when it comes to scans"

"That's true, but Lance and I didn't see anything"

If Keith was honest, he was just going off of Lance's previous scans and was no expert like Coran, but the scanner hadn't highlighted anything

"Perhaps it would be best to conduct another scan once Lance wakes"

"He'll be out for a while, I gave him a shot for pain... that was actually a sedative. He would have wanted to wait for Pidge, Hunk and Matt if I hadn't, he also said that Shiro and Lotor didn't hurt him. So once they've returned, we can release them"

"So do we just wait?"

"You can go ahead and call Pidge and Hunk, I doubt they'll be discussing anything too exciting"

Moving over to his console, Coran went about calling their three friends. Pidge's face filled her half the screen, while Hunk looked somewhat more relaxed

"Hey guys! How's Lance?!"

"He's good. He's sleeping at the moment, Hunk"

"I'm surprised you got him to sleep"

"Keith drugged him"

"Mum, you don't need to dob me in"

"Well you did"

Forcing an exerted sigh, Keith had no idea why his mother insisted on telling everyone

"What does it look like?"

"We're just arriving, here let me switch view"

The scene in front of them was floating chunks of earth

"Well. It's gone. I don't see how anyone could have survived this, and we aren't reading any life signs in the area"

"Though we are getting some unusual energy readings"

"Unusual?"

"It's emitting the signals one would have expect from a black hole, and radiation is continuing to rise"

"There's no way she could have survived?"

"No. Nothing could have survived, and there's no trace of that black goop or pure quintessence"

"Alright, take as many readings are you and then fall back. We'll need to contact our allies and let them know to avoid that quadrant"

"Do we know what Honerva was trying to do?"

"She wanted to go back in time"

"Ugh. Why can't bad guys ever be original?... ow! Matt!"

"Keith, we'll take the readings and return. Do you mind if I use Green to contact the rebel forces?"

"Why are you asking him? She's my lion"

"No, go ahead"

"Guys, Green is mine!"

"No ones saying she's not"

"Then stop..."

The call was ended, presumably by Matt. Shaking his head at his friend's, Keith couldn't quite believe that Honerva was dead. Just like that...

"Hunk, just make sure they don't kill each other"

"Will do"

Ending his call, there was nothing else for them to say

"So what now?"

"We wait for them, mum, can you contact Kolivan. Let them know to avoid any missions concerning infected ships and that quadrant of space. Once that is done, why don't you guys get some rest? It'll be vargas before Pidge, Matt and Hunk return"

Still agitated from Lance being hurt, Keith headed down to the training deck to work his anger into something more constructive than cursing Lotor and Shiro.

After waking from an amazing sleep, the only thing wrong was the cramping in his stomach. Pushing himself up, Lance slid the IV from his arm as he winced

"Lance, lovely to see you awake my boy. How are you feeling?"

Rubbing his face, Lance yawned as he nodded at Coran

"Oddly refreshed, I can't believe I fell asleep"

"You certainly needed it"

"How long was I out for? And are the others back?"

"Yes. Honerva's base was completely destroyed. We've decided to cordon off that quadrant of space for now, as by Pidge's calculations, it's turning into a black hole"

"I thought they happened instantaneously"

"Yes, well, this one hasn't. Now that you're awake, are you up for a scan"

"I already had one"

"There's no harm in being thorough. Young Keith only just left before you woke. He's been worried for you"

Talk about guilt tripping...

"Coran, if I tell you something, can you swear you won't tell anyone"

"Lance, what is it? What's wrong?"

Placing one hand on his stomach, Lance sank back down

"I've been feeling sick lately, and my stomach is cramping... um... Krolia said I... she said I was... that I was miscarrying. I haven't taken off my ring, so I don't see how I could be, but I need to know"

"Does Keith know?"

"No. So please don't tell him. I don't want to upset him when it might just be nothing"

"Alright, just lay back and get comfortable. You know the drill"

"I wish I didn't"

"We all wish you didn't. Don't worry, I'll get to the bottom of this"

Closing his eyes, Lance took a deep breath as he waited for the heat to fill his stomach.

"Coran. You're not saying anything"

"Lance, I don't see a foetus, but there does seem to be evidence that your womb lining is "shedding". I can't not say that you were, but it is thicker than your previous scans"

"So I might have been?"

"Or it may just be your hormones returning to normal levels"

"Ok... thanks Coran. I'll um... I'll talk to the doctor when we get back to Olkarion"

Though Coran probably knew more than the doctors did

"Lance, perhaps you should tell Keith?"

"No. It's ok. If it's something serious, then I'll tell him"

Climbing off the bed, Lance was in shock. The ring on his finger was supposed to prevent this kind of thing. Internally his omega was having a breakdown over it all. He needed to see his kids.

Heading down to the nursery, he found it empty, as was his and Keith's quarters. Walking all the way back up to find Keith and the pups was too much effort, so he remade their bed and gave Keith a call. In the background he could hear Hunk and Pidge laughing. Jealousy flared inside of him. Why did they get to be happy? When there was possibly something wrong with him... he still didn't want to believe it could be a miscarriage. Promising to be down soon, Lance changed into a pair of Keith's black track pants and one of his mates singlets. He really wanted Keith. He wanted his mate curled around him, kissing him, telling him everything was going to be ok. It was hard to choke down his tears, and it took forever before Keith came in with the boys. Laying them on the bed, Keith went to climb on the outer side, effectively blocking them in. Reaching out, Lance tugged his hand as he stared up at his mate

"Hey, what's up? Did your scan not go alright?"

"It... I just, I really want you to hold me"

Keith was confused, but still did as asked, climbing around him and the boys before spooning up behind him and kissing his nape

"Baby, you can tell me anything"

"I know. Just... I really love you Keith"

"I love you too"

"And the boys. I love them so much"

Lance placed his hand over Keith's, squeezing firmly as he did

"You're scaring me"

"Sorry. I just really wanted to see you and the boys"

"You don't need to be so upset over that. We missed you too"

"We're on our way back to Olkarion, aren't we?"

"It's still going to take a couple of quintants"

Quintants... which meant this might all pass before they reached Olkarion. He could only hope so. Leaning in to kiss Laneith, his son stuck his fingers up his nose

"That's gross"

"Do you have a problem with my snot?"

"No, but maybe it's better that it's not on Laneith's fingers"

"I haven't got anything to wipe it on"

"I'll get a tissue"

"It's fine. We'll live. Won't be baby. Yes we will, look at you, you think it's all a big game"

Laneith cooed happily, his other hand grabbing for Lance's face, capturing his hand, Lance kissed his palm as he made nomming noises

"You're an amazing mother"

"It helps these guys are so adorable, just like their daddy"

"I am not adorable"

"Sexy. Perfect. Adorable"

"I'm definitely none of those"

"You are to me"

"That's because you're weird"

"That's not nice"

"Just calling it like I see it"

For the most part, his cramping had passed during the trip back to Olkarion. With nothing to do, Lance spent most of his time down in the nursery with the boys. They loved wriggling on their play mat, and being just the three of them, Lance opted to let them play naked. It wasn't healthy to keep them in nappies all the time, and Kelance has a small rash forming from it. Even if he was in pain, he definitely enjoyed spending time with them, and reading to them, and watching them inch their way closer to crawling. So far there had only been two accidents, both of which were pee, so it wasn't too hard to clean up.

The evening they arrived on Olkarion, Lance was the first one off the castle, taking his pups with him while Keith dealt with finding a way home for Lotor and Matt. Making his way down towards the village, he ran into the person he was seeking out as he went

"Ryner!"

As always, Ryner didn't know to deal with perky persona, the old woman smiling thinly as she nodded

"Lance. What news from the castle?"

"Everyone's ok... hey, do you happen to have a few doboshes? I was actually coming to find you"

"What can this old lady do for you?"

Fidgeting with Laneith's blanket, Lance hated asking

"I think there might be something wrong with the ring you made for me. Is it possible you can take a look?"

"Did something happen?"

"Uh... possibly. I was... I need to see a doctor too"

"Why don't we take a walk down to the hospital?"

"Thanks. I'm sorry for all of this, especially when just got back"

Walking tensely beside Ryner, neither of them talked as they made their way down to the hospital and inside. A few of the Olkarion came to ask how the pups were, so when Ryner took him by the elbow and led him away, he was more than a little grateful. He didn't know what to say. The pups were fine. Lead into a small examination room, the doctor was already waiting

"I'll take that ring of yours now"

"Oh, hang on. I need to put the boys down"

Trying to appear normal, the omega laid both pups on the bed, before sliding the ring from his finger and dropping it into Ryner's palm

"I will return it to you later, if that's acceptable"

"That would be awesome. Thank you"

"No worries"

Nodding to both of them, the woman shuffled from the room, leaving him with the same doctor he had after birthing the boys

"Red Paladin, what seems to be the problem?"

"I... Ryner created a ring so I wouldn't fall pregnant, but recently I took a blow to the stomach and I've been bleeding since"

"So you think you're miscarrying?"

"I've been bleeding and cramping for the last 3 quintants. It's lightening up, but we weren't sure if I did miscarry of if it's hormone related"

"I'll need to examine you. Please lower your pants and place your hands on the bed"

Because that wasn't embarrassing... gritting his teeth, he did as he was asked.

After being poked and prodded in ways he definitely didn't like, Lance focused all his attention on his boys

"There's no sign of internal or external trauma. You may pull your pants back up, and please lay on the bed"

Holding two pups and trying to climb onto the bed was nearly impossible and the old man didn't move a finger to help him as he did. Both boys were just as cranky as he was by the end of it

"I'm going to perform an ultrasound. It will also measure your hormone levels, and test for any traces of lingering foreign matter"

"Um. Ok"

The look he got clearly said he didn't need to speak. Couldn't the man at least be a little nice? He was completely freaking out! And the gel pad he placed on his stomach... Oh Lordy... his whole body clenched.

"You're not pregnant. If you were, you have already passed the foetus. There is still some lining of the womb shedding, which suggests a pregnancy has occurred"

"So I lost a baby"

The old man sighed as he nodded

"For now take comfort in the knowledge you have two boys already"

Packing everything away, just as efficiently as he'd unpacked the portable scanner, Lance was too shocked to move. The ring was supposed to protect against falling pregnant... this wasn't supposed to happen. Sliding off the bed, he mumbled his thanks, before fleeing. His omega just as shocked as the rest of him, and he didn't know what to say or do.

Blindly fleeing up to the castle, luck wasn't on his side as he walked into Lotor and Shiro. Bouncing back, Shiro grabbed his arm so he wouldn't fall

"Lance! What are you doing out here?"

"I just went for a walk..."

"On a cold night like this? The pups aren't dressed for such cool weather. You better get them inside"

"That's what I was trying to do"

Ignoring the angry look on Lotor's face, Lance pulled away from Shiro

"Lance?"

"It was just a walk. Lay off of me"

"I didn't..."

"You didn't what? Mean to imply in a bad mother?! Just leave me alone"

Shiro and Lotor could both...

"Lance, what's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong! If you've got time to stand here and yell at me, then you've got time to go away!"

"I wasn't yelling at you"

"What's going on here?"

Appearing from the castle entry, Allura walked to his side

"Lance?"

"Can't you all just leave me alone! I went for a walk! That's not illegal, I wasn't doing anything wrong"

Allura took half a step back, concern written all over her face

"Lance, no one said you did anything wrong"

"Shiro did. And I can tell Lotor's mad because I didn't save Honerva"

This was their first time seeing each other since the incident, that was another reason he'd stayed down in the nursery with the boys

"Lance"

"Stop saying my name! God. Can't you all give me some space?"

Pushing past Allura, Lance strode into the castle, making his way straight back down to the nursery. The night wasn't that cold, and both boys were in full length onesies with beanies on. He knew how to take care of his kids. He didn't need anyone sticking their nose in his business.

After talking with Allura, Keith sought out Lance. His mate was hidden under a pile of blankets, with the twins laying on his chest. Pulling the pile back, the glare his husband shot him had him sighing

"If you're going to hell me off, I don't want to hear it"

"Allura said you were upset. You've been upset for days... are you ready to tell me what's wrong?"

"No"

"Baby, please talk to me. Not only did Allura say you were upset, Shiro said the same thing, and apparently villagers saw you at the hospital"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

Keith flinched as anger rolled off Lance

"Baby, I'm worried. Mums worried to"

"That's funny"

"What's so funny about that?"

"That mum would be worried. If she hadn't told me, I wouldn't have even known"

Breaking down into sobs, Lance tried to curl around their son's

"If she hadn't told you what?"

"I... I had a miscarriage. I think I had a miscarriage, it... there wasn't any evidence of carrying... but... I was down at the hospital hoping they'd tell me I didn't. Mum smelt it on me. And. Just. I'm a broken omega, so just leave"

Keith was floored. The thought had crossed his mind for a moment when Lance started bleeding, but the ring was supposed to prevent him falling pregnant. If Lance had conceived, he wouldn't have been very far along

"Baby"

"Don't! Don't be nice to me! Not now"

"Hey, come here"

Climbing into their bed, Keith pulled Lance up against him, with the pups still on lance's chest as he cried

"I didn't even want another kid so soon, so I don't know why it hurts!"

"Because you love so much baby..."

"I wasn't supposed to fall pregnant!"

"I know. But we were using technology not built for our exact make up. There are no one hundred percent contraceptives"

"How come you don't hate me?!"

"Because these things happen. Your body was probably drained for your extended heat, and it didn't know what to do"

"Why me! What did I do with wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong baby. Nothing at all. I'm here, I'm here without"

Pressing kisses to Lance's temple, he rubbed his mates arm at the same time. Losing another pup was rough, but he wasn't the one who to physically deal with the effects of doing so

"I'm here. I've got you. I love you"

"You shouldn't... I'm wrong"

"You're not wrong"

Let holding his crying mate, Keith struggled to hold down his emotions, eventually giving into his own tears.

With Lotor and Matt both leaving the following morning, Keith let Lance sleep in. His first stop of the morning after seeing two of them off, was a trip down to see Ryner and the organising a house to borrow. He make good on his promise that they'd live off the castle, and with a little string pulling, the Olkari woman had an even better plan. They were going to construct a house for them, from the ground up using vines and Olkarion technology. Keith didn't care what it looked like, to him a house was a house, he'd only stipulated that it needed to have a bath, but the rest of it was left to her discretion. Returning to the castle, he found Lance was up and about, eating breakfast in the kitchen while Hunk was baking. Blinking at him, Lance blushed as Keith walked over to his mate and kissed him deeply

"Guys, it's too early for this"

"It's never too early to kiss Lance. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up"

"It's ok. Hunk explained you were seeing off Matt and Lotor"

"Yeah. We had to piece together a ship for Lotor, so we didn't have to part with the fighter jet. Matt had his own ship, so he left first"

Nodding, Lance went back to what seemed to be space cereal

"So what's the plan now? I mean. We have no big bad at the moment... who do we fight now?"

"There's still some factions that are more than likely to cause trouble, but for the most part, we'll be continuing to offer aid and support to the planets in the coalition"

"It feels weird not having anyone to fight"

"I thought you'd be happy Hunk"

"I am. It's just... it's been one adventure after another since we came out here, and now there seems to be some stability in the Galaxy. What do we do?"

"Isn't that what I just asked"

"For now, I think we have all earned a well deserved break. We'll monitor Lotor's movements until we're sure he isn't planning to move against us"

"He's still mad I couldn't save Honerva"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because he didn't say anything. He didn't yell at me or ask me what happened in her final moments. He just accepted it"

"He is half Galra"

"Keith's half Galra and if something happened to his mum? He'd want to know"

"Keith likes his mum. I don't think Lotor liked Honerva"

"He liked Honerva. His problem was mostly with Haggar. You weren't there. I think he actually supported her trying to turn back time"

"Something like that, it can't be possible"

"It's happened before. Remember, Allura and Coran were trapped in that time rift before. I'm worried Lotor will want to pick up where Honerva ended"

"He doesn't have the quintessence or knowledge to do so"

"But he talked to her... he would have seen what she was doing. And there's probably more of that black stuff out there..."

Placing his spoon back down, Lance shook his head

"I think I might go read to the boys for a bit"

"I'll come down with you. Did you leave them sleeping?"

"Yeah. They'll probably be awake now"

Sliding off his stool, Lance winced as he wrapped an arm around his stomach, leaving Keith wishing he could do more than just watch. Hopefully Ryner would get back to him sooner rather than later, and Lance would be able to take a nice long bath to ease his pain. Taking his mates free hand, he stayed close to his husband as they left the kitchen and headed down to the nursery.

As Lance had predicted, both boys were awake. Kelance was sucking on his hand again, while Laneith was mouthing at the soft toy bear in his cot. Not missing the way Lance was still holding his stomach, Keith guided Lance to sit before moving to lift Kelance from his cot

"Someone's gotten bigger"

"Mhmm, they both have... sorry you had to pick them up, my stomachs still a little tender"

"I don't mind. I've missed the three of you all morning"

Taking Kelance from him, Lance smiled at their baby boy, before lifting him high and blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Kelance squealed at the action, kicking his feet out as he did

"Hey, I don't suppose you saw Ryner while you were out?"

"How come?"

He didn't want to mention the house thing until he could actually take Lance down to see it, but his mate didn't seem to notice him smoothly dodging the actual question

"I gave her my ring yesterday, and she was going to take a look at it to see why it didn't work... she was supposed to return it to me last night"

"Oh. I didn't even notice you weren't wearing it"

"I've still got the important one on"

"I know. Does it ever feel weird under your gloves?"

"No, I've gotten used to it. I think it'd feel weirder if I didn't wear it... besides, it reminds me I have you waiting for me"

After lifting Laneith in his hold, Keith crossed to sit by Lance. His husband immediately placing his forehead against the alpha's right should and kissing his arm

"Hey, it's ok. I'm here"

"I know. I guess we know why I wasn't feeling great, and why my omega was feeling so clucky"

"Yeah... baby, you know I'm not mad at you, don't you? Neither of us suspected you might be, and mum... I can't believe she'd be able to smell the change in your hormones so soon"

"I didn't think it was possible..."

"I know baby. Are you up for helping with bath time?"

"I'm not missing bath time. I'll just sit on the edge of the shower, but... there might be some blood. I mean. Most of its passed, and it's just spotting now, but I get if it's gross"

"Lance, it's not gross, and I was there last time this happened. You have no idea how proud I am of you, do you?"

"For loosing another pup?"

"For letting me in"

"I practically had a mental breakdown and sobbed at you"

"But you told me, and that's the main thing. I love you so much"

"I love you too. Can we stay inside today? The boys have really liked playing on their play mat"

"With Lotor and Matt gone, it's just admin work, and Shiro has probably already started on that. I think mum wanted to talk to me, but she'll find us when she's ready"

Humming, Lance nuzzled his arm as he kissed it again

"Thanks. I really just need to feel safe at the moment, and while the castle's home, I still feel best when I'm with you and the boys"

Keith's heart swelled at his mates words. He wanted to sweep Lance off his feet and spoil his mate rotten, while also wanting to tuck him up in bed and do whatever Lance wanted or needed him to do. So if his mate wanted him there, he wasn't going anywhere.

Laying on the floor, Keith was spooned up against him as they watched the boys. It was a race now, as both pups had rolled onto their stomachs and were in the process of conquering holding themselves up. The moment was so magical, and so intimate that Lance wished he was filming it, but didn't dare track down a camera in case he missed seeing who crawled first. Behind him, Keith was tense, as if holding back a cheer at the boys progress... or maybe he wanted to yell at them to hurry up. They were both so close. Reaching out for his brother, Kelance fell down, while Laneith reached a chubby hand out, crawling ever so slightly before Kelance grabbed his arm and Laneith fell on his butt. Laughing at their boys, Lance reached out and lifted Kelance up

"You're not supposed to sabotage your brother"

"Hey, he just wanted to do the same thing as Laneith"

"I think this means Laneith crawled first. Keith, how can they be getting so big? I can't believe it... our sons are crawling"

"They're not crawling yet"

"They're close enough. I don't want them growing up. They're so adorable"

"So you like dirty nappies and temper tantrums?"

"I like their chubby faces and how curious they are about everything... how about I take care of them when they're this big, and you can take care of them when they're moody teenagers like you"

"I'm not moody"

"Mhmm... I suppose you've gotten better"

Nipping his shoulder playfully, Keith reached up and took Kelance's hand

"It's being with you that did it"

"Oh, so you love our sons more than me. I see how it is"

"I don't think I'm physically capable of loving anyone more than I love you"

"Just remember that next time I do something wrong"

"If you didn't mess up, you wouldn't be you"

"Hey! Did you just insult me?!"

"Maybe. What are you going to do about it?"

"Ummm, I don't know. Actually, yes I do. You can make me lunch"

"Lance..."

"Nope. You've never cooked for me. Not proper food"

"Probably because I didn't really bother with proper food. It's not exactly high on the priorities when you live alone"

"Keith, I was joking. If you really want to do something to make it up to me, I wouldn't say no to a kiss"

"I can cook"

"And I'm telling you I was joking"

"No. You don't believe me"

"I do. Now give me a kiss"

Rolling in his hold, Lance closed his eyes expectantly. Biting his mates lower lip, Keith cut off Lance's yelp with a hard kiss, that soon turned heated. Almost forgetting the pups were even there, the alpha rocked his hips suggestively as he dominated Lance's mouth, before breaking the kiss to smirk down at him

"Keith... that's not fair"

"What's not fair"

"You know we can't... while I'm like this"

"I know. Doesn't mean I don't love and want you"

Pouting Lance rolled back and placed Kelance back next to Laneith, wriggling his arse against Keith's half erection as he did

"Now who's being a tease"

"Me. You deserve it though"

"Maybe"

"No maybes about it"

"I think it's time the boys had a nap. Laneith looks like he's about to fall asleep"

With his bum in the air and his eyes firmly closed, Laneith really did look like he was trying to sleep through their shenanigans. Nodding his agreement, Lance pushed himself up

"I'll place them in their cots"

"It's ok. I'm not as sore as I was before"

"You're still recovering. Let me take care of you for a change"

"You're always taking care of me"

"Because I love you"

Climbing to his feet, Keith moved both pups to their respective cots, before sweeping Lance off his feet and into his arms, letting out a giggle the omega found himself staring into Keith's eyes. He really did have the sweetest mate, even if he was starting to creep him out

"Keith?"

"What?"

"You're staring"

"Because you're adorable"

"I'm not adorable"

"You are, and you're mine. I know we can't do anything, but how about we go back to our room. I can massage your lower back for you"

"That would be nice"

Stripping down to their boxers, Lance laid on his stomach as Keith straddled his legs from behind, if didn't take long for his alpha to have him purring as Keith's fingers gently, yet firmly, massaged his tense muscles. He knew Keith wanted more than just this, but he really wasn't up for having his mate between his legs...

"Keith?"

"Lance"

"Can we do that thing again?"

Hissing as Keith worked out a particularly tight knot, his husband waited until the pain lessened

"What thing?"

"Where, you bottom? I mean... I want to make you feel good too"

"I'm fine with this"

"Have you ever considered I might not be?"

How Keith hadn't realised he was hard and aching, he had no idea

"You want to do that?"

"Only if you want to..."

"Are you sure you'll be ok?"

"Mmm, I'll be fine... besides, thinking about it makes me want to try it again"

"Hold still then"

Climbing off the bed, Lance propping himself up some he could watch as Keith walked over to their wardrobe, his husband started rummaging through it, before pulling out a small bag

"What's that?"

"After last time, I found the condoms and lube from Earth..."

"We bought condoms and lube? Why didn't I know about this?"

"Because I thought we only bought lube, it wasn't until I found the bag that I found out we got condoms too"

"Wow. You really do think of everything"

"I try... though you made it pretty hard to think"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you were so excited to be back on Earth, and so happy that I spent more time patting attention to you than anything else"

Ducking his head, Lance blushed. He might have been a tad excited at being home, and triply so because he got to experience everything with Keith. Rolling onto his side, he patted the spot he'd just vacated, while Keith paused

"Boxers on or off?"

"That depends. Do you want me to cut a hole in them, or just pull them down as soon as you get on the bed"

"... right... stupid question"

Dropping the back on the bed, Keith hooked his thumbs in the waist band of his underwear, freeing his erection. Groaning at the musky and earthy smell, Lance crawled onto his hands and knees, over to the edge of the bed

"Fuck you're big"

Grasping Keith's erection, his alpha moaned as he jerked it lightly, before sinking his lips over its crown. Giving a few tentative bobs, Lance pulled back so he could look up at Keith properly

"Get on the bed"

"Is that an order?"

"Maybe. I want to pounce on you and lick you all over"

Wrinkling his nose, Keith let out a snort

"Or not"

With Keith laying on the bed, Lance's head was buried between his mates legs as he sucked his alphas erection. Having breached Keith with a lubed finger, he was trying to make the experience as comfortable as possible for his mate. Probing his finger deeper, Keith's hands grabbed his hair

"There!"

Nodding around his mates erection, he rubbed at Keith's sweet spot until he started to rock hard into Lance's mouth. Risking gagging, Lance pulled back and nudged Keith's legs further apart, as he slid his finger back

"You weren't supposed to stop"

"Just be patient"

Lubing up his second finger, Lance slid them both in slowly, Keith's back arching off the bed as he did

"Quiznak!"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No... don't stop"

Grateful Keith couldn't watch what he was doing, Lance began to move both fingers as he scooted down and began to nervously lick at Keith's stretching opening. He wasn't as confident as he'd managed to be the first time around, and he wasn't even sure if he was doing it right, but Keith hadn't told him to stop. Sliding his fingers so close to his tongue, he wondered how stupid he looked as he covered them in drool. This wasn't working well enough. Pulling out his fingers, Keith groaned at the loss, so Lance moved to mouth and lick at his lovers opening

"Feels... good"

Encouraged by Keith's words, he slid his tongue in, ignoring how weird the lube felt in his mouth as he slowly began tonguing Keith's opening

"Baby! You're going to make me cum..."

Pulling his tongue out, he thrust his fingers back in, Keith's insides clenching and rippling around him as he gasped. Sitting back up, Lance locked eyes with his mate as he fucked him with his fingers

"Shit baby... I can't..."

Without any direct stimulating to his penis, Keith came across his stomach with a long growl. The sight so erotic that all Lance could think was how lucky he was to be the only one watching Keith fall apart beneath him, leaning in, he kept slamming his fingers into his alpha as he lapped his way up a long trail thick of cum

"Lance, I want you..."

"I need to have at least three fingers in you"

"Then hurry up"

"You sound like an omega, so desperate to be filled by me"

Growling, Keith shot up, his hand grabbing a fistful of Lance's hair as he smashed his mouth against his, kissing him hungrily until Lance whined

"Who's the alpha?"

"You are"

"And who's the omega who's going to be fucking this alpha?"

"I am"

"Mmm, good omega"

Releasing him, Keith wrapped his legs around Lance's waist, angling his hips up as he did. Prep time was over. He wanted to be in Keith, because there was no way he was going to be able to last much longer.

Shimmying his boxers down to free his erection, he coated himself in lube, before lining up teasing Keith's opening with the blunt tip

"Don't forget to breathe"

Not waiting, Keith howled as he impaled himself on Lance, forcing him inside his alpha until he swallowed to the very root. Shuddering as he tried to hold off his orgasm, Lance took a few deep breaths of his own before looking up to Keith's face. He hadn't even moved and his alpha already looked wrecked

"I'm not going to last"

Nodding, Keith's hands fisted the blankets as the alpha impatiently began trying to rock against him. Taking hips firmly in his hands, Lance rose so he could actually begin to find his rhythm. If he didn't pull out all the way, his back didn't hurt, but Keith was growing impatient for more. Flipping them over, his alpha began to ride him, and Lance was sure he'd died and gone to heaven. This was all too much. His alpha fucking himself openly as lewd moans poured from his lips, when Keith took his erection in his hand and began pumping himself, that was it for Lance. His toes curling as he came hard, Keith not even slowing down as he filled him. Wrecked from his own orgasm, he watched Keith cum across his hand, a satisfied smile on the alphas face as he immediately slumped forward and started nuzzling Lance's neck

"Mmm, so good to me baby. I love you"

Purring, Lance kissed a sloppy kiss to the side of Keith's head. He'd supposed to be making Keith feel good, but he'd needed the release just as much as his mate had. Wrapping his arms around Keith, his alpha ground down in his lap, keeping them joined together

"I love you, I love you so much"

Nuzzling his neck, Lance groaned as Keith's nuzzling turned to his mate sucking a painful and possessive hickey, before dropping back against him with a low laugh.

Their post-coital bliss was interrupted by a scream as the door to their room slid open, revealing all to Allura

"I'm sorry! Ryner's here! I'm sorry!"

"Allura, go away!"

"I'm sorry!"

Blushing bright red, Lance tried to hide from the world against Keith's shoulder. His happiness turning to embarrassed distress in an instant. Sliding off of him, Keith immediately repositioned them so he was sitting in this alphas lap

"Shhh, it's ok"

"Allura... Allura saw"

"I know"

"She saw!"

"Lance, I'm well aware of what she saw"

"But... how am I meant to face her?"

"Baby, it's fine. We weren't doing anything wrong or shameful"

"But..."

"No. You don't need to be upset. It's her fault for not knocking"

"I was still in you"

"I know"

"I..."

"Lance, it's ok. Let's get cleaned up and see what she wants"

"I don't feel very well"

It was true. He now felt like he was going to throw up, probably from having Keith's hands pressing down on his tender stomach, and the fact he was terrified of what Allura would say. There was also now a throbbing in his head that hadn't been there before Allura walked in...

"Baby?"

"Give me a few doboshes before coming in"

Climbing from Keith's lap, Lance stumbled through to the bathroom, pulling his boxers down as he sank onto the toilet and wiped began cleaning up. The bleeding was a little thicker, but not as bad as it had been, and respecting this need for a few moments alone, Keith came in as he was turning the shower on

"Are you ok?"

"Y-yeah. Sorry. I think my stomach didn't like that as much as the rest of me did"

"No. I should have said no. You're still recovering"

"I thought the worse of it had passed"

Why were his eyes filling with tears?"

With three large steps, Keith was wrapping his arms around him as Lance started to cry

"I've got you"

The release had broken the final part of the wall keeping the dregs of his emotions at bay. He'd lost another pup, and acting like it didn't hurt hadn't helped. He was just so confused, and so shocked. Nuzzling and kissing his hair, Keith whispered all kinds of things under the running water, but for the life of him, Lance couldn't say what. He just knew he didn't want to let Keith go.

#vld #voltron #wait a doblosh #klance #bottom keith #omega lance #alpha keith #lance #keith

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dramaplustautology · 6 years ago

Text

Lost Time Part 2/???

Siegfried goes after the kidnapped Captain.

No warnings and that’s going to be the last you’ll see those two words.

I want to split the first part into at least 2 and this one used to be part of an even bigger one but it was so weird so I had to break it up. I feel like my pacing is much better but now, “chapter” cuts are confusing. like there’s several climaxes in the original but when you cut them up, there’s just no climax. AAAAAAAA

Ok and also, I have so much trouble going through Siegfried’s thoughts. Just so much even when I reread those events, his fate eps, everything, but I’m trying ajdhalskg.

Waaaay shorter this time, still with tons of talking and thinking instead of actions orz

whatever, I’m tapping my watch @ me like where’s the kink???

Barely paying attention to what his students were talking about, Siegfried began drifting, toying with his helmet when Cagliostro spoke up.

“Is it the island or Utala’s god father that’s strange?” Cagliostro toyed with her hair ornament. It hadn’t been sitting right on her head after her couch flipped over. “I was hoping a more sensitive nose could sniff it out.”

“Go ahead and call me a dog, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Vane said, genuinely guilty about almost killing Cagliostro. He glanced at the other crew members returning to the ship, whispering amongst themselves about the newcomer and the strangely silent forest. “But now that you mention it, I didn’t see any animals while we were here.”

“We arrived so soon after the storm and if those happen often, we assumed the animals were used to taking cover,” Lancelot added, looking to his former teacher. “Siegfried, you were deeper in the mansion. Was there anything strange?”

Siegfried had nothing to say. He was sure that he did, after sneaking ahead and scouting the second floor of the abandoned mansion but it had been cut short. Overhearing the conversation about Utala’s lost sibling wasn’t his intention and yet, he had become enraptured by a footnote of the past.

Of course, this wasn’t the sort of topic that come up in casual conversation, which Siegfried was also unused to handling. Still, he knew enough that despite Utala saying that the scars from growing up as a different person were small, talking about such a thing would be deeply uncomfortable for all participants.

That was similar to how, during discussions about Siegfried’s time as a fugitive, pain would flash in Lancelot and Percival’s, sometimes Vane’s, expressions.

“They really care about you,” Sara had noted to him one day. “They’re afraid that you still hold it against them for doubting you for all those years.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is it bad to say that I’m a bit jealous?”

Did they think that he would hold a grudge? He hoped that the way he acted didn’t give the impression that he did.

In all honesty, he didn’t remember those feelings. He knew that they had existed but they were so hazy now.

Siegfried hadn’t thought about that until Utala brought up the subject. The knight couldn’t make a good comparison between something as subjective as how much spite a person could hold for others wishing that they were someone else and spite for being framed for a crime.

The closest he had returned to those dark, wriggling emotions were from Alex embracing Utala and dragging her away. But that was only because Alex’s mannerisms were somewhat off-putting, to put it politely.

Utala said that it didn’t bother her, however, Siegfried was also sure that he had only heard a part of the story. Cagliostro on the other hand, who had recognized who Rio was…

“I’ll give you the details. Most of them. The rest has to come from the Captain herself.”

That implied that Cagliostro knew the rest of the details, intimately knew them if she was so confident about separating what should be said and what shouldn’t.

The more Siegfried try to ascertain why Cagliostro knew before Utala decided to tell him, the more questions it brought up about himself. Utala had always been jumpy around him, having to calm herself down before he felt it was safe to touch her.

As opposed to Cagliostro, who could drop out of a tree, disguised as a snake but be embraced wholeheartedly anyways.

“Am I so adorable that you can’t help but stare?” Cagliostro asked, winking at Siegfried with a finger pressed to her lips. Lancelot’s wrist twitched, like he had been about to shove her over the edge of the rail.

“Ah, apologies,” Siegfried came back to reality, refocusing on the actual topic at hand. “While I was in the mansion, I didn’t come across any sign of life except for Alexander and his maid. After putting more thought into the observation, it’s strange that such a structure wouldn’t be used as shelter by the wildlife.”

“Uuu, don’t say that after staring at me for a solid five minutes.” Cagliostro playful smile sharpened into a smirk.

“Which leads me to my other observation,” Siegfried, thinking fast, continued. “You wanted to know if we smelled anything amiss. Should we be smelling anything amiss?”

Crossing her arms, Cagliostro huffed and made a big scene about her pouting. Percival, who had been staring at Alex and Utala hugging for the entire conversation, didn’t notice and spoke over her.

“The incident with my brother was fresh on my mind today. That man’s dilapidated home was similar to the depths of my home. I thought that I was imagining the smell because of my memories being stirred but, did any of you feel the same?”

“Is that why you were so uptight today?” Vane asked, like Percival wasn’t high maintenance at all hours of the week. “I thought you were just being jealous.”

That got Percival looking, sputtering angrily trying to find a dignified way to reply.

“Jealous of that vulgar display?” The crease of Percival’s brow was so deep that it must have been burrowing into his skull. “If I saw a father handle their child in such a way, I would turn him to ash on the spot!”

“Haha! Tell us how you really feel, Percy!” Vane laughed but it didn’t get Percival riled in the normal way.

“I’m serious.” Percival shot a scathing look at the way Alex was practically spooning Utala where she stood. “There’s a difference between a ‘fatherly’ hug and harassment. No wonder Lyria and Vryn were pushed aboard first.”

“I can see it,” Lancelot agreed. “I didn’t want to bring it up since she seemed happy but there really is a difference between the way he’s been touching her and say, how Siegfried touches her.”

“Is that so…” Siegfried trailed off, a part of him wanting to correct him but he didn’t know why and in what way. Somehow, Cagliostro also knew how to correct that.

“Yes there is but not in the way you’re thinking.” Cagliostro snorted. “Come now, pat my head like you do with Utala.”

Lancelot and Vane were shaking their heads at Siegfried and Percival was looking at him like they were meeting for the first time.

Curious, Siegfried patted Cagliostro’s head and the alchemist rolled her eyes.

“How are you as clueless as my niece? Pretend that I am the Captain, and I mean really pretend that I’m your Captain.”

Hearing Percival tighten his crossed arms, straining the straps of his armor at Cagliostro’s intonation, made Siegfried cautious. Did Percival see a trap that Siegfried couldn’t?

Either way, there was nothing that hinted at harm so Siegfried closed his eyes and reached back out. He ran his hand over Utala’s forehead, weaving his fingers into her hair until his palm cupped her temple.

Feeling Cagliostro lean into the touch, Siegfried opened his eyes and found that the alchemist was batting her eyelashes at him, lips pursed. Jerking his hand away like he’d been bitten, he realised that Lancelot and Vane had lost the ability to speak and Percival’s confusion had turned to clenched teeth behind pressed lips.

In such awkward mishaps, Siegfried would look to Lancelot to keep them on base but his eyes darted to Utala down on the island. Her god father’s hand was splayed over her chest, thumbing at the collar of her dress as she gazed up at him.

An ugly emotion writhed inside him, boring into his chest as Alex rested his chin on Utala. Siegfried turned his back and started for the way under the deck.

“Siegfried?” Lancelot tried to go after him and expected the other knights to do the same.

Lyria began to scream.

All at once, everyone was on the move. Percival was the first on the gangplank with Katalina at his flank. Lyria held her hands out to the air as Vryn clung to her shoulder to brace for what was to come.

Then, the deck of the Grandcypher tilted ninety degrees. Siegfried stabbed his greatsword into the deck and grabbed Lancelot’s arm before he was swept into the nightmarish wind.

Another storm had picked up with vicious speed, forcing the summoned Tiamat to right the Grandcypher instead of coming to their Captain’s rescue. She couldn’t stop them from being thrown so high into the thundering clouds that Lancelot’s nose was bleeding from the sharp change in atmosphere.

The pouring rain washed it away and all around Siegfried was the chaos of his crewmates struggling to understand what had happened. Katalina had been forced back on deck, shielding Lyria and Vryn as they shouted for the Captain.

Thrown to the other end of the ship, Vane had his arm curled around the rail and the other curled around Percival, trying to keep him from thrashing out of it. He was shouting and the lightning crashing all around them made it impossible for Siegfried to hear him.

He couldn’t hear anything, only the white noise and the Captain’s absence telling him to make a mistake.

“What are you doing?” Lancelot yelled as Siegfried donned his helmet and began to run.

The Grancypher’s rail came at him fast and he jumped on the wood divider, and off the side of the ship.

“Siegfried!” He heard Percival call out, the monstrous wind devouring what might be the last voice he’d ever hear.

He dove into the flashing storm and its freezing torrential rain, fearing nothing but what he would find on an island that had disappeared from view.

That long winding conversation that had led nowhere had taken a little more than twenty minutes, and they had lost Utala and Siegfried in under twenty seconds.

“I should have known he was lying about knowing Utala’s father!” Vryn wrung his hands as Lyria hugged him, wincing at Percival slamming his fist on the railing. “All of those sketches and those stories fooled me. I should have waited for Rosetta to wake up.”

“No, he probably wasn’t lying,” Cagliostro, sitting in the corner of the deck with her knees against her chest, pressed her palms against her eyes. “If Utala’s father is anything like her, history’s just repeating.”

“What are you talking about?” Katalina asked, arms still shielding Lyria and Vryn long after the storm had gone, taking the island with it.

“I knew the smell inside that mansion but I wasn’t sure until now. Maybe I was blocking it out,” Cagliostro dragged her hands down her cheeks as the others approached. “It’s the same way I smelled after you freed me from my prison.”

“Then, does that mean—“Lyria coughed, clutching her side.

“Are you alright.” Katalina knelt, holding Lyria’s shoulders as coughs wracked her body with trembles.

They grew louder until everyone on deck turned their heads, just in time for her to collapse.

There were limits to what humans could do. Surviving a four hundred foot fall was a stretch that even some primals couldn’t reach.

But, as the puddle he lay in rippled from his stirring, Siegfried had discovered that a dragon could.

Fafnir’s blood had saved him a second time.

He awoke to a dimming violet sky, the stars twinkling above the gap in the forest canopy. Siegfried’s fall had been broken by branches that lay shredded to pieces around him, floating in the remnants of a storm’s rain.

There was no telling how long he had been asleep. Being stabbed by Hagan had taken days to recover the blood lost. He didn’t know how long it took for shattered bones to heal and if they did so correctly.

Raising his arm, Siegfried flexed his fist. The test yielded piercing pain but he held his breath, enduring. Slowly sitting up, the water flowing from the gaps in his freezing armor, he checked his surroundings as his spine creaked in protest.

The woods were so thick that it felt like he was sitting at the bottom of a well where the light leaking into the hole he had punched into the branches was fast disappearing. Water was still dripping from the branches, either meaning that the storm that attacked the Grandcypher had just ended or Siegfried had slept through a different one.

And during his time asleep, something could have happened to Utala.

Siegfried forced himself to calm, spying his greatsword stuck into the base of a tree trunk nearby. It had struck the middle, sinking until the half the blade was sheathed, and gravity had helped the weighty weapon slide further until it touched the ground.

Utala had deflected that sword, the first time they met and the numerous times they sparred. Alexander wouldn’t be facing a helpless child.

He ignored the ugly crackling his legs made when he stood. Finding his stride, Siegfried tugged his sword from the tree, hefting it on his shoulder, and found himself in a familiar landscape.

Like back then, there was no time to dwell on fears. The likeliest place for Utala to take shelter as in the mansion and in the worst case scenario, Alexander would have her imprisoned there. Siegfried just needed to know which direction it was.

As if a higher power was sending him a sign, the bitter smell of something burning reached his nose. He looked up and saw thin wisps of smoke wafting over the gap. Judging from the way it moved and the thickness of the plume, the knight knew which direction he needed to go and estimated that it wasn’t going to be a far walk.

Beginning slow, Siegfried went from a walk to a sprint, clearing distances that would’ve taken much longer with the uneven ground and foliage obstructing the way. He traversed the sodden landscape, snaking around the trees and the rotting husks of the ones that had fallen to the storm.

The blanketing darkness barely did much in slowing him down. It would have done a lot less several years ago. It had been a long time since he had to move through this kind of terrain with such urgency. Ironically, he was running towards a fire instead of away from it.

Being able to go so far, his shadow moving through the night, he supposed he hadn’t stopped being an inhuman beast.

“Leave it!” He heard a man hiss, coming to an abrupt stop.

It came from up ahead, where Siegfried could see the trees stop at a craggily wall of stone. He sped towards it, beginning to climb up the slick moss covered rocks.

“It never stops raining on this godsforsaken chunk of hell. If the fire spreads, it’s not going to go far.” Siegfried heard the sound of a window slamming shut and waited at the edge of the wall’s top. Footsteps scurried into the distance, and a door creaked open and shut before Siegfried thought it safe to pull himself over the ledge.

He had reached a barren terrace, the looming figure of the mansion standing beyond it. There were lights glowing in the third floor windows, and below in the corner of the terrace farthest from the mansion, was a brick incinerator.

Alexander had his maid burn garbage.

A deep sense of dread filled Siegfried’s stomach; an overwhelming creeping dread that had only taken him over a single instance in Feendrache Castle.

He approached the incinerator, reaching for the iron door like he had when Isabella had summoned him to the King’s chambers.

The fire inside was already dying down and a memory of Utala from outside Fafnir’s cave, shaking in fright and awe of Siegfried, edged into his mind. Hand shaking, he opened the incinerator hatch.

Laying on scattered ashes away from the small flames were patches of Utala’s dress, singed bits of her gloves, and what remained of her charred bones.

#Utala (S)#Alex (S)#maid's name still a spoiler

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