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kiss-me-cill-me · 10 months ago

Text

Gravity Wins

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: The walls around here are too thin, and Capa can't seem to mind his own business.

Warnings: Smut, changes to several minor aspects of canon, alcohol/drinking (not related to the smut), mentions of vibrators, sexual frustration, masturbation (f), slight voyeurism, teasing, biting, quiet sex, and my obvious fixation on Capa's arms

A/N: In the words of Jayne Cobb... I'll be in my bunk. This was the winner of my "Bad Summary WIPs" poll. I had originally intended for "Gravity Wins" to be a working title that I would change later, but uh, it did win, so I'm keeping it lol. Happy Capa Month! 🥰

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Life aboard Icarus II had its charms. The views were unlike anything else; the oxygen garden was truly breathtaking; and the ship itself was pleasantly quaint, in a close-knit kind of way. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes, that same pleasant quaintness had a habit of dissolving into claustrophobia; the tight quarters and lack of privacy suddenly surrounding you on all sides.

That’s why it was important to find small moments of joy where you could, to pass the time. And that’s why you were currently in the canteen, with Cassie and Corazon squeezed in on either side of you, passing around a bottle of contraband vodka.

It was cheap stuff; strawberry flavored. Not necessarily what you would have picked to drink, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and Cassie - god love her - had always had terrible taste in booze. Still, it got the job done. And getting to spend a night gossiping and getting a little tipsy every once in a while was just enough to break up the daily routine and keep the three of you from going mad.

Only three months into the mission, and your one bottle was already two-thirds empty. It was going to be a long flight.

“Y’know what I miss?” Cassie sighed, shoulders loose as she passed the bottle over to you. “Pizza.”

You took a swig - the cheap, artificial taste of fruit mixing terribly with the burn of alcohol - and passed the bottle on. Corazon slouched forward on the table.

“Don’t talk about food, Cassie. Please,” she whined.

It wasn’t as if you were starving, but the bare-bones, monotonous rotation of meals you all ate while onboard the ship left a lot to be desired. You could feel your mouth watering just at the thought of something besides the same old efficient, nutritionally-dense meals you’d been eating for weeks now.

“I miss ice cream,” you jumped in.

Corazon groaned and took a sip of the vodka, rubbing her head.

“Enough already,” she begged.

“Fine then, Cora - what do you miss?” asked Cassie, reaching across your little circle to take the bottle back. She tipped it against her lips, taking a quick sip.

“My vibrator,” answered the biologist.

You and Cassie burst into laughter; high-pitched giggles bouncing off the walls of the cramped space.

“I’m serious,” laughed Cora, nudging your shoulder.

“Oh, I believe you - I miss mine, too,” Cassie admitted.

You hummed in agreement. It was a long journey, and until you’d stepped foot on the ship, you really hadn’t anticipated all the small comforts of home you would miss. If getting off could be considered a comfort.

“Here’s the real question though,” said Cassie, pointing the bottle at each of you in turn. “Would you fuck any of the guys?”

“On the ship?” you asked.

“You see any other guys around?” Cassie laughed.

You joined her, feeling the hot flush of alcohol rise on your cheeks.

“What about Mace?” Cora offered.

“Too angry.” Cassie scrunched her nose.

“Sure, he’s hot-headed - but with guys, sometimes that means he’s a good fuck.”

Another round of laughter echoed after Corazon’s remark.

“Harvey?” you suggested, narrowing your eyes. Watching to see if either of the other women’s faces betrayed a genuine reaction.

“Kind of stuck-up,” Cora commented.

The group agreed, and lapsed into silence. The bottle made another round, and you felt yourself starting to tip past the point of a slight buzz.

“How ‘bout Capa?” Cassie asked.

“Maybe if he wasn’t such a dick,” Cora scoffed.

You snorted, then scrambled to control your expression.

“I think he’s kinda hot,” Cassie ventured.

A chorus of oooohs made their way around the table; Cassie waving them off.

“But I wouldn’t sleep with him,” she insisted. “Seems like the kind of guy to make himself come and then roll over.”

Corazon laughed sharply and then turned to face you.

“What about you, huh?” she asked, voice lowering. “Would you let Capa teach you all about physics and where he can stick ‘em?”

Before you had a chance to tease Cora about being so buzzed that she couldn’t even come up with a half-sensical sex joke about physics, the party was broken up by the arrival of a fourth person. Speak of the devil himself.

Capa glanced over at the three of you as he walked in, pausing to quietly open a cupboard and pull something out. Cora ignored him. Cassie took a swig of the vodka. And you quickly averted your eyes, looking down at your lap as your face burned.

“What are you all giggling about?” Capa droned.

“Nothing,” Cora snapped, a little harsher than was necessary.

Capa’s eyes narrowed, landing on the vodka. There was a moment of rigid silence.

“You know there’d be trouble if the captain found out about that,” he commented.

It wasn’t exactly a threat, but it wasn’t exactly a harmless observation either. Cassie stood up and slouched over to him, pressing the bottle against his chest. You were watching out of the corner of your eye, still too embarrassed to meet anyone’s gaze.

“But you wouldn’t tell on us - right, Capa?” Cassie asked sweetly.

She was a little too drunk for her own good, and you felt a quick bolt of tension in your stomach. Capa gave each of you a questioning look, impossible to tell what he was thinking as he backed off and walked out the way he’d come in.

“Just keep it down in here,” he muttered.

Once he was out of earshot, Cassie sat down, and the three of you shared a shy laugh of relief. Corazon instantly broke the tension.

“See? What’d I say? He’s a dick.”

The next morning, you woke up groggier than you should have. After Capa’s interruption, the vodka bottle was quickly put away, hidden in Cassie’s bunk for another night. You hadn’t really had too much to drink, but the minor shame of getting caught mixed with the shitty vodka was enough to make you feel thrown off.

You shuffled out of bed, slipping into a pair of sandals after pulling on your pants. You shrugged into a shirt and ran a tired hand over your face.

On your way to the bathroom, Harvey stopped you. You only had the energy to listen to about half of what he was saying, still feeling grumpy and with a sour taste in your mouth. He was talking to you about some report; asking why it hadn’t been submitted in triplicate. You clenched your jaw, really not having the patience to deal with him right now.

You promised Harvey you’d re-file your report, and walked away before he could rope you into any more conversation. Cora’s assessment of him was accurate, you thought. Stuck-up.

As you walked, your thoughts wandered back to how the night had ended. Or, more accurately, to what had happened just before you’d been interrupted by the very topic of your conversation. Capa. You had been about to open your mouth to answer Cora’s question about him… or, not answer. You had actually been planning to make a joke and shift the attention away from yourself, specifically so that you wouldn’t have to give a straight yes or no. Because, of course, you didn’t want either of the other girls to know-

“Hey, wait up!”

A voice behind you caused you to jump. You turned to see Cassie, already catching up behind you, oddly chipper considering that she’d been the one drinking more of the vodka than anybody last night.

“Hey, Cas.”

She fell into step beside you, easily keeping up with your sluggish pace. You tried to straighten up and match her energy, but it was hard to when all you wanted to do was crawl back in bed.

“Harvey just stopped me in the hallway,” Cassie told you. “Said something about getting you to file a report? I just wanted to warn you; he seemed pissed.”

Great - now Harvey was sending your friends after you.

“Yeah, we already talked about it,” you muttered.

“You okay?” Cassie asked. “You look miserable.”

You felt miserable. And not just because of last night. For the past few weeks, you’d felt off. Moody. Unfocused. You'd been trying to push through it, but you felt yourself losing ground, and you were frustrated.

It was partly to be expected - at least according to Searle, the ship’s de facto therapist, who you had talked to about your problems a few days ago. Space travel was taxing on the body, and sometimes doubly so on the mind. You felt cooped up, and getting mildly drunk with Cassie and Corazon only provided a temporary distraction.

“Cabin fever?” Cassie guessed.

“Something like that,” you agreed.

Cassie sighed. “Cora was right. We all really need to get laid.”

“Cassie!”

You hissed her name, spinning around to check that no one was behind you eavesdropping. The last thing you needed was a repeat of last night.

“Relax - I’m not saying I’ll fuck you, so don’t get all excited,” Cassie joked. “But she is right. It gets to you, after a while.”

It certainly did, and you could attest to that fact. Last night it had seemed almost funny; giggling with your friends over missing your vibrators. But the truth was, three long months into your journey, you were already starting to go stir crazy from a life of near-celibacy.

“Maybe you just need to blow off some steam.” Cassie prodded, not letting up.

“Cas, no offense, but can we not discuss my sex life until I've been awake for at least twenty minutes?”

“What sex life?” Cassie laughed, a little too loudly, and you hurried to shush her again. “I'll shut up,” she promised, continuing on, “but all I'm saying is you look like you could use it.”

With one more conspiratorial giggle, she left, walking ahead of you down the bright hallway. You groaned inwardly, knowing she was right but also that there was nothing you could do about it.

You went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on your face.

The day seemed to drag on worse than it ever had. You tried to remind yourself to be grateful; that you were lucky enough to have been selected as a member of the small crew in the first place, and that your mission was important to the fate of mankind. But it all felt so trivial when you couldn't focus on anything other than the building feeling of dissatisfaction that ached between your legs.

Talking about Capa last night really hadn't helped things. He was all you could think about as you tried in vain to get your work done. Twice, you caught yourself making mistakes in your calculations as your mind started to drift elsewhere.

What gave him the right to walk around in those tank tops, showing off his perfect arms and chiseled shoulders - that's what you wanted to know. And why did he even have such sexy arms to begin with? He was a physicist, for god's sake. He sat in his lab all day doing nothing that should have given him such infuriatingly noticeable forearm definition.

Capa had a habit of putting his hands on his hips or in his pockets while he talked, and of running his fingers over his lips when he was thinking. Somehow, everything he did seemed to make a couple of thin veins poke just below his skin, as if to tease you into thinking what he'd look like holding you up against a wall. These were all little things you had noticed - found it impossible not to, actually - and they drove you crazy. Being cooped up was one thing, but being cooped up with Robert Capa was a whole other problem.

Cora was right, though. He was unapproachable at best and actively self-isolating at worst. Capa was the pariah of the crew, and whether or not he intended to be, acting that way made him come across as kind of rude. But to you, that only added to the appeal. The idea of getting with a guy who was so aloof made your fantasies run wild.

That night, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You slipped into your small room, dimmed the lights to thirty percent power, and shrugged out of your shirt and pants.

This was nothing you hadn't done before; it wasn't exactly groundbreaking stuff to masturbate when you were horny. For weeks now, though, it hadn’t really been enough to scratch the itch that seemed to grab hold of you whenever you were around Capa. But it dulled the ache, and for now that was the best you could hope for.

Your bed was more of a bunk, recessed partially into the wall. You laid down on the springy mattress and sighed as your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear. You were still in your panties and bra, feeling self conscious about stripping all the way down even though you were alone in your room.

It felt like everybody was living right on top of each other, although luckily your dorm was at the very end of a row, so you only had a neighbor on one side. Unfortunately, that one neighbor just so happened to be Capa.

Knowing that he was so physically close only added to your frustration as your fingers swept over your clit. But still, it wasn’t like you had a choice about Capa being in the room next to you, and you certainly didn't have anywhere else to do this. Your fingers trailed lower, over your core, and you gasped.

You were already wet. Of course you were; after doing nothing but daydreaming about Capa for practically the entire day, how could you not be? You pictured his face from last night; how he had briefly looked at each one of you as you’d sat around the table with your two friends. The rush that it sent through your veins was electric. Your cheeks felt hot as you imagined him, his eyes holding slight disappointment while he looked at you.

You weren't sure why that turned you on, but it did. You wanted him to look at you with that soft little frown; his blue eyes piercing through you as if they could see every dirty fantasy that played out behind your own eyelids.

You sped up, using your fingers to collect some of the wetness that eagerly pooled between your legs, and then bringing them back up to rub at your clit. Slow circles at first, and then desperate with more pressure. Your mattress squeaked, and you hissed, bringing the hand that wasn't touching yourself down to grab at the cotton sheets.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, careful to stay as quiet as you could.

The only sound in the room aside from your moans was the wet noise that greeted you as you stuck two fingers into yourself, not bothering to warm up with just one. You needed this. You needed more, but this was the best you were getting. You curled your fingers, arching your back and daring to let a whisper of his name cross your lips.

A few seconds later, you were stopped by a knock at your door.

You barely had time to pull your fingers out, scrambling to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket as your door slid open. There were no locks, which usually wasn't a problem, except of course at times like this when it really reminded you that you had absolutely no privacy.

You were expecting Cassie - she had a habit of barging in, instead of waiting for you to answer her knock. But instead, you were greeted again by the very face you had been picturing only seconds ago.

“Capa?”

Your voice felt strangely small in the cramped space. Capa stepped through the door, letting it hiss closed behind him. His face was expressionless, except for the barest hint of that pout that drove you so crazy.

He didn’t answer right away, but took a step closer and leaned up against the wall that separated his room from yours. Then, his lips curled into a smile.

“You really don’t realize how thin these walls are, do you?”

The implication of his words crept up on you, until finally your face was frozen in a look of sheer horror.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, voice just barely above a whisper.

“Enough.” Capa shifted his weight, pushing himself off of the wall to stand up. “Enough to figure out the answer to that question Corazon asked you last night.”

“You heard that, too?” you groaned.

Capa walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed. Not touching you yet or getting too close, but hovering just out of reach in a way that made your skin tingle and your heart do flips. You had no clue if he was torturing you or inviting you to make the next move.

“D’you always think about me when you touch yourself?” Capa asked, bringing the volume of his voice down to match yours.

He sounded so sexy like that. He must have known what he was doing to you; his eyes were practically glowing with mirth and his lips were still curled into that smile. You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’d… rather not answer that,” you choked out.

Capa’s eyes darkened. No answer was as much of an affirmation as admitting it.

“You should have just asked for my help,” Capa teased. “You obviously need something. And it’s not like I’m twiddling my thumbs over there. Cumming into my own hand got old weeks ago.”

Your whole face burned hot with embarrassment at what he was admitting. And yet, at the same time, you shivered. The blanket you’d haphazardly thrown over yourself only covered your waist, and your bare shoulders were suddenly prickled with goosebumps.

Finally, Capa reached out and put a warm hand on your shoulder, then dragged it down the side of your arm, taking your bra strap with it.

“Want me to touch you?” he asked.

His voice was low, and you could feel yourself getting pulled down with it. You knew that it would be stupid to do this; sleeping with Capa could only open a Pandora’s box. If it was good, you wouldn’t be able to get off on your own fingers for the rest of your time on the ship. If it was bad, you still had years to spend cramped up together. Your room right next to his in the already-tight quarters. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to avoid him after an awkward hook-up.

Suddenly, though, you realized that you were thinking way too much.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Capa’s hand trailed farther down your arm; grabbed your wrist. You bit your cheek, wary of making any more noises after his earlier comment. All the crew’s quarters were laid out close together; if you were too loud, the whole ship would hear.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Capa hummed, bringing you close as he leaned in, his lips practically brushing against yours. That seemed like a good enough place to start as any.

“K-kiss me - please,” you whimpered.

Capa’s lips found yours, and the rush that surged through you was almost overwhelming. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, and the press of his slightly chapped lips against yours was doing more to you than it should have.

Your mouth opened, and his tongue instantly pushed in. He was moving slow, but with a hunger that sent your mind racing with thoughts of what he could do to you if you asked. You felt Capa’s breath against your face; heard the low moan that vibrated through both of you as it came from the depths of his chest.

“What else?” Capa urged, pulling away. “We both know that’s not all you want.”

You could hardly think straight, much less put together a sentence. Instead, you guided his hand to your chest, and felt as his fingers squeezed. As he did, he leaned back in for another kiss.

You had put Capa’s hand over your bra, but he quickly slipped it under the fabric to rake over your bare skin. His fingers pressed into you, kneading at delicate flesh. You moaned, opening your mouth against his kiss again, and he bit hungrily at your lips.

“So soft,” he murmured, flicking a thumb over your nipple. “But that’s not where you really want me to touch…”

His voice was airy, even as he gripped at you with an intensity that almost hurt. He lowered his rough hand from your breast, and pushed past the blanket still draped over your legs. Teasing at the hem of your panties for only a second, he deepened the kiss as his fingers pushed lower and lower. Finally, he reached the wetness that was still pooling between your legs.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. You felt your cheeks heat up again. “You really want it that badly?”

“Fuck, Capa,” you whined.

“Want me to touch you like this?” he teased, voice still husky as he pressed one finger into you.

He had barely pushed in the pad of his fingertip, and you were already sinking into the mattress, unable to hold yourself up. Capa added a second finger, then repositioned himself, squeezing into the too-small bed with you to hover over your frame as his fingers roamed deeper.

“Yes - just like that,” you begged. “Don't stop.”

Capa curled his fingers inside you, and you opened your mouth in a silent gasp. Your eyes had squeezed shut, and when you opened them again, you saw him looking pleased with himself, gazing down at you as you lost your mind over his touch.

“Bet you've thought about me doing this,” he whispered. “Isn't that right?”

“Yes-” Your voice hitched. “Yes- ah- thought about- cumming on your fingers.”

Capa smirked and brought his lips to your ear.

“You're not gonna cum on my fingers.”

He pulled them out of you, and you groaned at the loss. You felt his stubble scrape your cheek as he got up off of you, and you watched, half in a trance, as he took off his boxers. You hadn't even noticed until now, but he was just in his underwear and a t-shirt. He pulled the shirt off, too, and then went about removing the last of your clothes.

You suddenly had the urge to cover yourself; like you now had too much on display even though Capa had already been watching your face twist in pleasure while he was knuckle-deep in you. You brought your arms up to cover your chest, but Capa gently brushed them away.

“Don't be shy; it's nothing I haven't already imagined,” he winked.

Again, the implications had you almost slack-jawed. You had no idea if it was true or if he was just teasing you, but you really didn't care.

“Let me show you what I've thought about,” Capa went on.

He took your hand and brought it to his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around it. He sighed a little as you touched him, softly, and the sound sent another shiver down your spine.

“C’mon - wanna feel you,” Capa said, his eyes half-hooded. “Use your hand. Squeeze me.”

Your heart fluttered as you followed his instructions; tightening your grip on his shaft until he was groaning above you. You gave him a few tentative pumps.

“So good,” Capa groaned.

The dull ache had returned between your legs; you were still missing the touch of his fingers. Even though you were happy to touch him as well, you needed the friction. You started to squirm, rubbing your legs together.

“Impatient,” Capa laughed. “Don't worry - m’not gonna tease you too much longer.”

His mouth dipped to your neck, pressing a kiss along your collarbone. Your hand flexed, and Capa groaned deeply again. The sound was enough to send you reeling; you thought you might come from his voice alone if he didn't hurry up.

“Stop teasing,” you begged. Breathless, and fully aware of just how desperate you sounded.

“I guess we've both waited long enough, huh?” Capa chuckled.

Your hand relaxed, and Capa’s came up to guide himself, hovering right at the space where you wanted him, but not pushing in just yet.

“Be quiet now,” Capa reminded you, and he kissed you as he started to press in. “Wouldn’t want anybody to hear you.”

You would have cried out, not caring who heard you or how loud you were, had Capa's lips not been pressed roughly against yours, swallowing your muffled moan as he bottomed out. He pulled back to watch you, panting like a dog beneath him, and smirked again.

“Fuck, this is so much better than my hand,” he said, breathing a little heavy himself. “M’not gonna last long.”

The idea sent your head spinning all over again, and your legs squeezed his hips a little tighter. The thought of Capa, coming too quick as he buried himself inside you, turned you on so much that you moaned out loud, and Capa quickly slapped a hand over your mouth. His palm was rougher than you'd imagined it.

“Told you to be quiet,” he warned.

When he started to move, you were grateful for the hand covering your lips, because without it you certainly would have woken the whole crew. As it was, Capa had to press his palm a little harder to muffle the moans that escaped. You were shameless; couldn't think about anything but the way his cock was stretching you out and spearing into you. It was more than enough to make you forget where you were.

“Not that I don't normally love hearing you get off,” Capa whispered, “but if you keep doing that, we're gonna get caught.”

Had he heard you the other times you'd touched yourself? You thought of him, silently palming his cock in the next room over, listening to your soft moans and breathy sighs as you tried - and failed - to stay quiet.

Capa, unlike you, still had control of his voice; never letting it rise above a whisper. You wished you could hear him - how you were really making him feel. You bet he would make the prettiest noises if he'd let himself.

“Gonna be good?” Capa asked as he sped up.

You nodded, and he removed his hand. Instantly, the way his cock hit a spot deep inside of you made you hiss with pleasure, teeth clenched as you fought to stay quiet.

“Fuck, Capa - driving me crazy,” you breathed.

“I know,” he agreed. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“If you can stay quiet, then you can cum on my cock.”

The way it felt like he was giving you permission sent another wave of heat through your whole body. You wanted to come for him. The feeling that had been steadily building now felt like it was nearly about to flow out of you; you could so easily let yourself fall over into oblivion.

“Can’t stay quiet,” you whined. “God, you feel so- ah!”

You gasped as Capa’s cock twitched inside of you, his hips continuing to swirl against yours. He was almost there, too; you could feel it. And the realization only pushed you closer.

“Shit,” Capa swore.

He was clearly at odds with himself, over whether to cover your mouth again so that the two of you wouldn’t get caught, or give in and let you scream for him. His hips faltered, and you moaned again. He was running out of time to make a decision.

“Bite down on my shoulder,” he said, finally. “Fuck - I’m gonna come.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You had thought very often about what it would be like to sink your teeth into his skin. Seeing even an inch of it peeking out from behind the collar of his shirt or on display in one of those fucking tank tops was enough to drive you crazy. You bit down, just in time as you finally let yourself give in to the building pressure.

As you bit him, Capa swore again, and scrambled to pull out of you, as best he could with your bodies still pressed together. He was coming, white ropes painting your stomach as you came down from your own high.

You wished you had gotten to squeeze him more. The idea of him emptying into you as you milked his cock was almost too good to imagine. As your senses returned, you realized that Capa was speaking to you.

“So… Did you enjoy me teaching you about physics?” He was panting, but there was still light in his voice as he teased you, echoing Cora’s words from last night.

“Stooop,” you protested.

“If you didn’t, we don’t have to do this again,” Capa teased.

“Noo,” you mewled, voice still weak from your orgasm. “Can’t go back to fucking my fingers now…”

“Yeah,” Capa agreed, bringing his lips down for another rough kiss. “Me neither.”

The next night, Cassie proposed taking out the vodka again, and the three of you met in the canteen, as usual. Prepared for another late night of gossiping.

“You seem brighter today,” Cassie noticed, facing you.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m feeling a little better.”

You left it at that. You weren’t sure how long you and Capa could keep your new arrangement a secret, but you also weren’t rushing to tell the girls. The bottle of vodka made its first round, and the three of you started to speculate about which member of your small crew was most likely using up all the hot water. You’d all been taking freezing cold showers for weeks.

Only a few minutes passed before Capa came sauntering into the room again. Just like last time, he glanced at your group before reaching up to get something out of a cabinet.

“You three never learn, do you?” he commented.

You felt your cheeks start to heat up again. His eyes focused on you, briefly, and then moved on to something else. Cassie puffed up, straightening in her seat as she faced him.

“Go away, Capa,” she huffed. “This is a private conversation.”

Capa came over to lean on the table, glaring down at your small group.

“Oh yeah, I’m so interested in your riveting conversations about how I get off and roll over.”

Cassie’s face turned red. Corazon glared at him. And you felt your soul fully exit your body.

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Cassie shrieked.

“No - you just weren’t being quiet,” Capa corrected.

“The walls here are too damn thin,” Cora muttered.

Capa had a small smile as he straightened up and walked off, pausing just before he exited the room. He turned around, staring blankly at Cassie as he spoke.

“I’m not upset or anything,” he said. “And besides, your friend over there knows it’s not true, so…”

He left, taking with him all the air in the room. Cassie and Cora stared at each other, eyes wide in disbelief, and then pointed their gaze at you.

“You fucked Capa?!” Cassie shouted.

“Cassie, hush,” Cora snapped. She leaned in. “But seriously, we need all the details. Spill.”

You buried your face in your hands, trying in vain to hide your embarrassment. Your two friends badgered you relentlessly, begging for the whole story behind how it happened.

Somewhere else in the ship, Capa smirked.

#robert capa x reader #robert capa smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #robert capa #LemmyFics

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mintartem · 7 months ago

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Emily: Adam look what I found in the shipwreck!

Adam: You went there alone? Against Sera’s orders? Badass! What did you get?

This DIYS gave me an AU idea!

The Little Mermaid AU in which Emily wants to go to the surface. Adam, her adoptive older brother, gets caught up in her shenanigans.

Main Characters:

Emily is Sera’s only daughter and Crowned Princess of the Mer-Kingdom of Atlantica. She is low-key jealous of Adam’s freedom and lack of responsibilities. She does love him a lot and sees him as her older brother. She admires Sera a lot and hopes to be as great of a queen as her.

Adam is a family friend’s son whom Sera took in as her ward. Adam’s mom was killed by humans while Adam’s dad died in a battle against a fellow Mer-Kingdom when Adam was a baby. Like Emily, he’s curious, not as curious though. He doesn’t like humans but he doesn’t hate them the way Sera does either. He went to the surface once and saw what he assumes to be a human child flailing in the water and tried to help, only to be scared off by an older human.

Sera is the Queen of Atlantica. She has a huge hatred for humans for killing a lot of their own back then. She fought back by letting the sirens lure them and eat them for their own. Despite Adam being her ward, she sees Adam like her own son and even considers to officially adopt him. She wants Emily to hate humans but didn’t realized that she instead flared her curiosity.

Charlie is the Crowned Princess of the Kingdom of Pride. She is a sweet, kind-hearted, open-minded girl that only wants the best for people and her kingdom. People sometimes calls her crazy because she claims to have seen a mermaid when she was young.

Lucifer is the king of the Kingdom of Pride. Despite still being married, he and his Queen, Lilith, have fallen out of love. He has an obsession with ducks and collecting rare treasures. He sometimes hunts for the mermaid with golden tail who almost drowned his beloved daughter.

Side characters:

Saint Peter/Peter - Emily’s best friend (his role is basically Flounder)

Michael - Adam and Emily’s bodyguard. The one who told Sera about Emily’s secret cave of human collection. To make up to her for tattling, he joins Adam in making sure Emily has a great time in the surface. (He wasn’t there when Emily made a deal with the sea witch). He wants Adam’s hand in marriage.

Lilith - Lucifer’s wife and Charlie’s mother; queen of the kingdom of Pride. Concerned with her husband’s obsession with the mermaid.

Eve/Roo - the Sea Witch whom Emily makes a deal with to get to the surface.

Alastor - Charlie’s trusted butler; head butler of the palace

Husk - head chef (monitored by Alastor of course)

Anthony - one of Charlie’s few friends, one of the castles butlers (jokingly calls himself a maid)

Nifty - head maid of the palace

Vaggie - Charlie’s girlfriend

Sir Pentious & Cherri - two of the most trusted castle guards. Charlie also considers them her friends.

That’s all I have in this AU for now. Do whatever you like with this AU if it inspired you. Will I write a fic with this AU? I don’t think so.

Does this AU intends to ship Adamsapple or Guitarhero? Maybe�� maybe not. Who knows?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel emily #emily hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #mintartem art

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descendantsramblings · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I was just wondering if I could request a fic for hook where he like sees like a crocodile and has like a panic attack and reader comforts him?

Of course baby, I’m going with a gender neutral reader since you didn’t specify, I hope that’s okay

I also did my absolute best not to romanticize panic attacks but if it comes off that way please let me know. I have another request for one and I want to improve on being as respectful as possible with things like this. As a writer and a human person.

Eyes on Me

James Hook x Animal-Talent Fairy! Reader

Pronouns used: they/them/theirs

Summary: The day had started so cozy, how were they to know that he’d react to one of their interests like that?

Warnings: panic attack, mentions of animal attacks, they're in swimsuits (Hook is shirtless, mentions the reader’s skin being exposed on their waist), Reader isn't fully thinking with their head pre-panic attack and that's okay because Hook likes it, use of pet names (it’s me writing so you expect that though)

Word count: 2.4K

It was extremely rare for the Jolly Roger to be away from its dock without a full crew. Mainly due to the fact that it was dangerous, a ship needed a crew the same way it needed deep waters. Captain Hook was no fool, he would never put his ship or himself in direct danger like that. Which is what made the day so special. It was so rare in fact, that it had never happened before. Not before the Captain became extremely smitten with a Neverland fairy anyway. And perhaps, the way they looked at him made it seem less like he was putting his ship in danger. After all, he was staying close to home, they’d be back by nightfall, how bad could it get? Standing there watching the fae across the deck sunbathe in a swimsuit leaving little to his imagination as they cut him small, adoring looks, he knew he’d made the right choice. He might, despite his better judgment, make this choice again if it means getting to be in this position.

“You enjoying yourself, Love?” He chuckles, feeling the way that his partner’s eyes were drinking him in. With the way they stared, you’d think Hook was the one who should have been more cautious when they met. Like he was in danger, a hunk of meat being eaten by hungry eyes. Of course, that was his intent and purpose when he’d offered up going swimming, knowing a great little island just off the coast of Neverland that would let them be on a beach all alone. He fed off the attention, off of being genuinely wanted. Of course, he knew he was attractive, he gained most things he wanted by using that to his advantage. But for the hungry look to come from a dove instead of a vulture? He hadn’t been quite used to that before, he still wasn’t. It was a welcome feeling though, something safe pooling in the risk of it all.

They give him a soft hum, eyes raking over his exposed chest before locking on his amused smirk. Sliding their sunglasses to rest on the top of their head so he would be left with no question as to where they were looking. “Oh yeah, the best time.” He recognizes the tone and his lip finds its way between his teeth as a gentle heat rises to his cheeks. Shaking his head as he tears his eyes from the fairy on his ship to the sea before them. “Are you blushing, Captain?” A scoff, one which comes out much faker than he’d intended, leaves his lips, “It’s just the sun. Getting a touch burned.” Delicate hands dip into a beach bag beside them before (Y/n) idles up beside their lover, a bottle of sunscreen in their grasp. “Well that simply won’t do. Mind if I help you?” James shakes his head with a chuckle, “Go ahead, Love.”

(Y/n)’s fingers work in gentle, smooth circles as they put a new coat of sunscreen on James’ face. Moving down to reapply the cream to his shoulders and back. Using soft and ghost like touches, you’d barely know they were even applying something to him. Humming a song he couldn’t quite recognize as they work him over with the lotion. And he was eating it up. Was affection always supposed to feel this good? Was he meant to be loved gentle? He hoped so, if it meant this would never end then he hoped so. “Can you get your own chest, James?” He hums, tossing them a smirk over his shoulder, “I could, surely. But where’s the fun in that?” It catches him a weak and playful smack to the back before he hears the bottle hit the ground. Hands wrapping around him with their body painfully close to his, he could feel as their chest moved with the air that entered their lungs. Rubbing sunscreen on the front of his torso in an innocent way that still had his breath catching in his throat. “Your touch is magic.”

It earns him a playful giggle, the sound was almost a soft jingle, more like bells than vocal chords. “Most things about me are magic, Captain.” He lets go of the wheel for a moment, turning around to face them. A smirk plays on his lips as his hands plant themselves on the exposed skin of their waist. “Ah yes, my little fae,” he leans into them, lips brushing the shell of their ear as he whispers in it, “Though you seem to be more entertained by acting as a siren today. Very hard to concentrate when you act like that.” (Y/n) pulls back, placing a quick kiss to their lover’s lips with a giggle. “You ought to get better at concentrating then, Captain. Imagine how dangerous it would be for you out here if a real siren came along.” His eyes roll, waving them off as he turns back to his steering wheel. “You need to go somewhere.” “I am, you’re taking me somewhere, remember?” The teasing tone makes not turning back to his partner a fight, the boy’s eyes narrowing as he forces them to stay focused on the sea. “(Y/n), I beg of you, go entertain yourself so I can get us where we’re trying to go. You’re making me understand why pirates never go out without their crews.”

It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s playing with them. James Hook was one of the clingiest men to ever exist- if he wasn’t already the clingiest one to exist. He didn’t genuinely take issue with their watchful eyes and needy touches, he was however, extremely flustered. Something that was written across the face that he was weakly attempting to hold a smug look on. If you asked (Y/n), this was the most attractive the boy had ever looked, with his flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes. Still, out of the kindness of their heart, they decide to give him his touch of space, heading over to the side of the boat so they could examine the water. It wasn’t something they’d taken the time to do since joining him on the ship, and they loved the water; more so the creatures that lived in it. They never got the chance to go out this far to see what it had to offer, not until James had made it possible.

In all their time in Neverland, (Y/n) had never had the chance to see a saltwater crocodile. It was a personal goal of theirs, and of course they had heard the stories of the noisy one by the docks. Everyone had heard the stories of the noisy animal the island had affectionately nicknamed “Tick Tock”, but it hid when they came around. Much to their dismay, they lived for the rush of seeing more dangerous animals, chased the high of adrenaline that came with it. To see an animal that would purposely prey on humans if hungry was the biggest high the animal-talent could think of. They’d never gotten to deal with an animal that genuinely saw them as prey and the idea of it was exhilarating. Once Hook had joked that’s what his appeal had been to them, something they playfully refused to confirm or deny. Now, with their closeness to the shore of the island he was dragging them to, they shouldn’t have been shocked to see the creature. Still it didn’t stop the excited squeal that escaped their lips as they called for James. Has he ever seen one? It could be an experience for the both of them! This day just kept getting better for the fairy.

For Hook though, as his eyes circled in on the scales and sharp calculated eyes he felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. How big was that thing? Twenty three feet? They had mentioned that’s how big the animal could get while gushing about it once. Of course, he probably just thought that because the thing was huge. He could only hope that it was as big as it could get. God, what if it was just a baby? His arm suddenly felt numb, pins and needles filling where his hand used to be while his good hand was trembling. Was another bigger one waiting behind this thing? It was all he could see, this thing was going to kill him. Kill them. No way he got out easily this time. He lucked up to only lose a hand the last time it came near him. This was the end. No way this wasn’t the end. His breath was caught in his throat, good hand grasping at his neck as if it could help him draw air in. Hook timidly took a few steps back, his mouth fell open to speak but it closed right back. No words could get through if air barely could. But he wanted his lover away from that thing. He wanted them safe, that thing was in no ways safe.

“James?” They look at him with soft, scared eyes, a frown written tightly across their lips. “James, what is it?” He shakes his head so fast it makes him dizzy, (Y/n) rushing forward to help stabilize him and bring him to sit down on the deck of the ship before he could fall to it. Wild, worried eyes work the boy over, falling onto his hook. They trace his arm back up to his eyes, watching the way his eyes jump between the golden metal and the edge of the ship. They suddenly felt like an idiot. Of course James has seen one before, he was attacked by one before. How could they ever forget something that important? Their heart fell into their stomach as they stood up, softly whispering to him that they would be right back before they make it back to the side of the boat.

A soft wave of their left hand brings a golden glow to surround their fingers. “You sir, need to leave,” their hand points out to the creature in the water below them. “You are greatly upsetting the Captain,” they turn their hand and the animal goes with it, “Don’t you want to go sunbathe? It’s so warm today.” They watch as the creature slinks off, slow and steady movements dragging it up onto the sand of the beach. Leaving an indented path in the sand it left behind. With him gone, they’re right back to their boyfriend. Falling to their bare knees with a loud knocking sound as they softly grab his face. “Hey, let’s get those eyes on me, yeah? He’s gone, I got rid of him, I promise. You’re safe, Honey. You’re so so safe.” Thumbs rub his cheeks as his wild and terrified eyes jump back and forth between looking into each of his lover’s gentle ones. “It’s gone, Honey. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’ve got you, I won’t let any animal hurt you again. It’s okay. Get those eyes on me.”

His hand is still clawing his neck as his eyes settle on theirs and the fairy reaches down to grab it. “That’s enough of that. You’re hurting yourself. You can breathe, I know you can. You wanna try with me?” He gives them a weak, measly nod, eyes finally locking in on the ones he’d learned to call home. “Okay good. Breath in. One, two, three, four.” He follows the command, though the way his chest expands with it is nearly a searing pain, muscles rigid and tight with fear. “Out now. One, two, three, four.” James isn’t positive about how many times they repeat the two commands. (Y/n) talking him through every slow and steady breath he takes until his shoulders relax and he feels like the air is entering his lungs all on its own. Not letting up on him until his breathing is clear and his eyes are less watery. “Hey,” they smile, letting go of his hand to wipe the few tears that made their escape from his eyes. “There you are, there’s my boy.”

He slumps forward onto their shoulder, nearly exhausted from the ordeal and they hold him. One hand wrapping around his shoulders as the other softly cards through his hair. “Hey,” they coo, pressing a few kisses to his bare shoulder as they tug him ever so slightly closer. “I’m,” he finally finds his voice, letting out a sigh as he nuzzles against them, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I know seeing one of those was a big deal to you. I didn’t mean to ruin it.” (Y/n) all but scoffs, pulling him up to look at their face. “James Hook, you have nothing to apologize to me for.” “But I-” “Nothing.” They set to peppering his cheeks with soft kisses, playing with his hair as they do. “I should have kept it to myself. I wasn’t thinking about you when I saw it, I just got excited. I never should have called you over there to look at that thing. I’m sorry.” They shake their head, kissing his nose, “I’m so sorry.” James hums, pulling himself up to his feet before helping them to theirs. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m okay.” He hopes it’s convincing, but the way his eyes flicker around deceives him. The boy was clearly terrified, and it made them feel awful.

“I sent it to the beach, so maybe we should turn around, head back home.” He frowns, wrapping his arms back around their waist and leaning into the warmth of their shoulder. “But, I promised you we’d go swimming, you were so excited. We just got here, that will ruin the whole day for you.” Gentle and loving arms wrap around him, pulling him as close as they can get him. “If we go swimming I’m not going to be able to fly in my fairy form for days from all the water. I was excited about the idea of swimming, but not for the water.” He pulls away to look at them, brows furrowed. What else could they have been excited for if not the water? What else was there to get excited about when it came to swimming? Eyes ghost back over his exposed torso and it clicks, the boy laughing as he tilts their head to look at him. “You are a siren, I hope you know that.” And they laugh, pecking his lips while their hands rest on his chest, “Maybe, but you love it. Plus you’re going to be all gold skinned from the sun for a week after this and it just makes you look so pretty.” His cheeks flush and this time the boy doesn’t try to hide it. “You need to go home and cool down, don’t you? Wanna come learn to steer?” Their eyes light up as they stare at him, “You mean it?”

#descendants #descendants imagines #descendants fanfiction #descendants rise of red #descendants x reader #james hook #james hook fanfic #james hook x reader

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hungry-tum-stuff · 6 months ago

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(spoken to tummy) "Poor thing, they're not feeding you, are they? We'll get you taken care of."

Tahir shuffled back into he and Bix’s shared room at the inn tiredly, ready to collapse into bed after a long day about town. However, he was surprised to see a lantern still lit at the little desk in the room, and Bix sitting at it, poring over books and notes written in his chicken scratch handwriting.

“You’re still awake…?” Tahir mumbled, shuffling over and looking over Bix’s notes. Bix just nodded, and Tahir took his silence as a hint to leave him to his work.

“Alright… Just don’t stay up too late, we have to be out of this room by ten tomorrow morning and I don’t want you dragging your feet.”

Bix nodded again, and Tahir managed to cross the room to the bed. He collapsed into it, as intended, and closed his eyes in the hopes that sleep would come easily.

But as soon as he was comfortable, he heard a little rumbling noise. He had half a mind to brush it off until it came again, not seconds later, this time with a bit more ferocity. Tahir cracked his eyes open tiredly and looked around, and the noise came again, this time a low, hollow-sounding growl. Tahir’s eyes fell on Bix, still hunched over the desk.

“Bix? Have you not eaten?”

The harpy gave no response. His stomach did, however, with a low-pitched whine that droned on for a good few seconds. Tahir frowned and forced himself up out of bed to stand beside Bix and glare at him.

“Bix…”

“Oh my god, no, I haven’t eaten, alright? Now can you leave me alone?” Bix snapped suddenly, causing Tahir to take a step back and hold his hands up innocently.

“Well, are you going to eat?” Tahir asked, putting a hand on his hip.

“I just have to focus on getting this tracking spell right before we ship out tomorrow, okay? I wanna know if we’re going the right way…”

Tahir sighed. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Shut up and go back to bed, how’s that for an answer?” Bix hissed, shooting a glare up at his companion. His stomach rumbled again, but instead of saying anything about it he simply turned back to his work. Tahir sighed and shook his head, but he was determined to get a meal in Bix’s belly before either of them went to bed.

So he leaned down, and put an ear up to Bix’s belly.

It roared at him.

Tahir took his head away quickly. “Ouch, alright… You must really want dinner, hm?”

Bix’s stomach groaned pathetically, and Tahir stole a glance up at the other’s face only to see it was beet red. The prince decided to push his luck a little further and put a hand on Bix’s concave tummy, beginning to gently poke and prod it.

“That sounds like a yes to me. You poor thing… Bix isn’t feeding you at all, is he?”

Bix’s stomach growled, and Tahir was surprised that he was able to feel all the churning and gurgling against his fingertips. But then again, there was hardly any meat between his skin and his noisy stomach.

“Oh I know, you’re starving. Believe me I would like to get you taken care of, filled up nicely with, hm, perhaps some stew, and some fluffy bread to dip in it-“ Bix’s stomach agreed with a pleading moan, and Tahir continued. “Ah, I figured you’d like that idea. But unfortunately it’s out of my hands. Bix is working after all, you should take this up with him, not me.”

Bix’s stomach snarled ferociously, causing the harpy to wince and clutch at his belly. He shot another glare down at Tahir, but as his stomach continued it’s tantrum, Bix’s shoulders loosened as he quickly relented. He wasn’t winning this fight.

“…You’re an asshole.” Bix murmured, pushing his chair out to stand up. Tahir stood up with him.

“What ever could you be talking about? I was just listening to your tummy, you ought to do the same.”

“Yeah yeah I get it. Is there really stew downstairs?” Bix asked eagerly.

“When I walked in the innkeeper was tending to it, I’d imagine so.”

“Well then what the fuck are we standing around for?” Bix rushed out of the room, and Tahir chuckled and shook his head, following his companion out of the room.

#thank you for the ask #my characters #original characters #sfw hunger kink #tummy talking #tummy kink #stomach growling #hunger kink #tummy #hungry tummy

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wraithchic · 6 months ago

Text

Rogue Roses

Word Count: 3k+

Ship: Valeria Garza x reader

My past is behind me, finally. Now I own a bar called "Velvet," a name that came to me easily after renovating the interior. I chose a rich red velvet for the seats at the tables. I used to think it was way too luxorious for a bar de mala muerte, my opinion changed when a customer came in and told me it made him feel like royalty, and there and then I felt like I had made the right decision. That comment made me get an uniform, which wasn’t really one, as I was the only person working here at the time, I chose a red velvet low-cut square-neck shirt and black flared pants, which made me feel like a slutty Mrs. Claus and way too navideña all year round, but the uniform makes me confident, and most importantly, brings in tips.

I’m used to dangerous people coming into Velvet, most of the customers are, but the bar isn’t my first time dealing with them. I sometimes feel like I’m the only person with morals inside this place, well, *now* I have some morals.

There’s one server at the bar tonight, his name is Constantino. He was the only person to hand in his resume when I was hiring, but he is the best waiter/bartender/bouncer on the bar, besides me, that is. And although he is a young soul, his body is around fifty-five years old, he also is fucking scary looking, he stands at almost two meters tall and ex-militia, so he is also the security at this place. -I should look into hiring some more help.- I tried to make-up for that scariness by giving him an uniform, just like mine, just that his was a red dress-shirt. We look like a Christmas gone-wrong movie, which wasn’t what I intended but, hey! We look good, I think.

Usually Constantino tends to tables while I work as a bartender, serving everyone who sits at the bar counter. And tonight, that’s the case, but we always take turns on the different jobs.

My shift begins with the usual crowd: drunks and football enthusiasts, we have two TVs at the top of the far right and far left wall, there’s some seats at the bar with no visibility of the TVs so they are empty most of the time. Today is a slow day, just the alcoholics that come here every day, the ones I serve despite the voice in the back of my mind telling me not to; so after a couple of hours, when the door opens and a woman walks in I can’t help but turn in her direction.

She’s wearing a black turtle neck shirt, cargo pants, combat boots, and a knife strapped to her leg, I can tell she’s one of the dangerous people. I don’t want to throw flowers my way, but since owning the bar I’ve gotten really good at profiling. I look at her second too long, but I avert my gaze to the cups I’m washing. The last thing I see about her is she sitting down at one of the almost-always-empty seats.

“One rum shot, linda.” I hear her say. She has an accent, that combined with the very obvious usage of Spanish tells me that she’s probably from Las Almas. Her voice is silky but somehow rough, I wonder how she would sound when she’s eating m… I need to stop that train of thought, I can afford an affair right now. “Yes, coming right up!” I shoot a smile her way as I dry my hands on my apron. As I pour her shot, her eyes never leave me, I feel her gaze burn on my face, I wonder what she’s thinking.

When I give it to her she takes a moment to sip it, savoring the taste before setting the shot glass down. I don’t really take pride in my shots though, a couple years back I leaned to mix drinks so the other beverages I serve are way better. I leave after handing her her drink to tend to other clients, although I would stay just to admire her gorgeous face… Oh Gods, stop it Y/N, you can’t get involved with a customer you don’t even know.

The woman’s gaze follows me around, it’s kind of creepy how focused she gets while I work. I try to ignore her, just looking in her general location every now and then. After debating for some minutes I decide to come up to her, that’s what good customer service is all about after all.

“Would you like anything else? To drink of course.” I smirk and can feel myself slightly blushing. I’m not one to flirt often so my skills are quite rusty and I don’t even know if it came across as a flirtatious joke. The woman smiles softly at me, her fingers idly tapping on the bar.

“For now, mi amor, just you. But I’m always open to suggestions.” I pout, as a sarcastic joke of course. “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, corazón. But hey! This next drink is on the house, choose whatever me want.” The woman grins, her eyes sparkling with an intention I remember quite vividly from my late life, mischief. It can’t mean anything good. “Maybe you should be. But for now… two shots of rum, please. I’ll pay for the extra one.” She raises her empty shot glass in a silent toast to me while she smiles.

I carefully pour her drink and decide to ask something that’s been lingering on my mind. “What’s your name? Every good-looking woman has one.” I feel like my face is going to fall off, I can’t believe I just said that. My mouth is running faster than my head. “My name is Valeria, my love. And you are…” She leans in closer and speaks before I can answer, her voice a seductive whisper.

“Just the type of girl I’ve been looking for.” I audibly laugh “We’ll see about that.” I wink at her, badly, I was never one to control my facial muscles very well, besides, the last time I flirted was back in High School, before life carried me away from any sort of love life and work took over everything. “Name’s Y/N. Not fitting though, you can call me yours... “

I walk away to serve other drunks before she can answer. I need time away from her to gather my racing thoughts and (presumably) high blood pressure. I walk over to Constantino, who already has a shit-eating grin on his face. “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you, miss.” I hate it when he calls me that and he knows it, he is trying to get on my nerves.

“I know, Tino, I can feel it. Now get back to work, you have a family to feed.” We always joke like that, he’s like a father to me, a father away from home. After hiring him I met his husband and their two kids. “Okay boss, but, hear me, you’ve been alone for way too long and, by the look in your eyes, she’s a commitment you’re willing to pursue.” He raises his eyebrows as he walks away to talk to customers.

When I look back at Valeria she takes her drink, sets the shot glass down and leans back on the bar. I come back and serve her the third shot of the night. “Just so you know, the shots are ninety pesos each. Call me if you need anything else.” I say and leave after giving her a last glance. That’s the least sexy thing I’ve ever said. I know the shots I sell were pricey for such a simple drink but they were quality, and Velvet was the only bar in a couple of kilometers to serve 1800’s aged tequila. “Oh, be certain I will, preciosa.” She chuckled, it was like music to my ears.

As closing time approaches everyone starts to leave so I have time to talk to Valeria, I approach her “Oh Gods, today’s been exhausting. There was this guy who was trying to flirt with me, but I couldn’t get him to understand that he wasn’t my type” I laugh at my bad joke.

Valeria chuckles softly, her eyes never leaving mine. “I can imagine. Some men can be quite persistent. Was it the older one with the red shirt?” I lightly laugh at her assumption. “Oh hell no, that’s my employee, and he’s married.” “Sorry about that… So tell me, what is my type?” She makes an emphasis on the last part, I guess she’s trying to get me to say I’m attracted to her. “That’s a pretty easy guess, isn’t it? You tell me” And it is, I’m not super picky with my women. Any of her guesses would be pretty much correct.

“I’m guessing someone strong, confident, and not afraid to take charge... and a bit rough around the edges." Her voice is low and teasing. “You’re right, but what about physically? That’s a pretty easy guess too” I smile and she smirks. “Oh... someone with dark short hair and beautiful with toned muscles and sharp features. Am I close?” Her eyes flicker down to my neck, if I didn’t know any better I would think she’s a vampire. I can tell by her tone that she is still teasing me. Two can play that game.

“Oh now you’re just describing yourself but I’d say you’re pretty damn close. This is a fun game. I’ll guess your type now.” I lean on the counter, giving Val a full view of my cleavage. I know full well that I should change my work clothes to something less Christmasy but that shirt brought more clients than the drinks I served ever would. Her eyes flicker down to my chest and back up to her face, a predatory grin spreading across her face “My type?”

“Oh yeah.” I start describing myself. All I wanted to know is if she is as attracted to me. “And you like playing hard to get, don’t you, princesa?” Her voice is a low growl and her face is twisted in a cynical smile, her fingers now trailing lightly down my arm. “Ahora dime, vida mía, why are you single? I’m guessing you are." “Tell me how you know I’m single and I’ll tell you the reason.” Her knowing I’m single is kind of creepy and my curious mind needs to know. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

“Well, you haven’t looked at your phone since I’m here, so no one is texting you or if they are, they can wait. And there’s no tan line on your ring finger, so you’re not married.” She says it as if she had been waiting for someone to ask about it. But certainly, satisfaction brought him back.

“Wow, you’re quite observant. So, in this business it’s better if men find me attractive and think they have a chance with me, then they don’t mind the high prices.” I say with a big smile on my face. “For example, you didn’t question the price of my shots even before looking down at my cleavage, and you’re not a man.” I chuckle and walk back to lean on the wall.

She smirks. “Touché. You’re quite the tease. But remember, I’m always in control, even when it comes to my little games.” Valeria’s gaze never leaving my body. “I don’t think so… you haven’t looked away from me since you walked in. You would love it if I just got on my knees and praised me like a God, wouldn’t you?” That’s what I wanted to do, I just needed her to tell me to do it.

Her eyes flash with amusement and desire as she watches my face. “Oh preciosa, you have no idea what I’d really like to do with you. But for now, let’s focus on business.” My playful facial expression dropped to a serious one fearing what she might mean. I ran away, far enough for no one to know me, how could she? “What business are you talking about?” She smirks, her fingers tracing along the countertop “I’m interested in purchasing some of your... unique items.”

My last romantic affair took an unexpected turn during my final year of high school when my then-partner led me down the path of shady business dealings. What initially began as a seemingly harmless and exhilarating escapade soon transformed into a serious occupation after I decided to part ways with her. I used to be an exceptional artifact smuggler, no police, national or international, could ever catch me. I had stolen and sold more than three thousand different artifacts from all around the world, from emeralds to clothes and paintings, I had swiped it all in almost seven years. Roughly five

years ago I stopped. Morals were threatening to catch up to me and so was the CIA, they had never been so close to finding me, so I changed almost everything about myself. I got a new hairstyle, threw away my cell phone, moved to Mexico, decided to never visit again the countries I swiped from and the most painful decision I ever took, never going back to my homeland. I formed a new life in Las Almas, bought a bar and a small house with the leftover money from my past deals and burned the rest. But now all of my efforts se fueron al carajo, she knew who I was.

I walked over to her and whispered “I stopped selling contraband historical items, preciosa, find another place to buy it from.” I haven’t been this serious all night and in general, it’s quite rare for me to be. I can feel the scowl on my face. Vale’s finger traces along the counter, brushing against my hand, “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” Her voice is honey-sweet, her dark eyes burning.

“No voy a aceptar incluso si ofreces acostarte conmigo. Won’t happen, although, sí aceptaría lo segundo but no more contrabando from me. I left that world long ago” And I wasn’t lying, even before the CIA came close to me, I was planning on starting a new life with the money I had earned. “Eres astuta, aren’t ya? Hazlo por mí, one last time. I could pay me whatever you’d want”

“In this business, you need to be. I’ll close the bar and then I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry about paying it’s all on me” I don’t know what came over me but I remembered that I had some leftover items I brought with me as a reminder of my past life, but also because I fled Spain, the country I was at at the time I heard that the C.I.A. was soon to catch me, so fast I couldn’t really decide what things to pack and what to leave behind. This was an opportunity to truly become someone new.

I go over and close all the tabs, then kick out some of the leftover drunk men, the bar had closed half an hour ago after all. Constantino was long gone by now. I come back to talk to Vale but she speaks first. Chuckling softly, Valeria leans against the counter, her body language inviting yet, not completely “That’s quite the generous offer, linda. But perhaps we can strike a deal where you help me find what I’m looking for, and I’ll… well, help you.” Now she´s got my attention “Tell me about it, Vale.” I am quite curious about this deal. Her lips curl into a seductive smile, her gaze holding an unspoken promise, which I can’t really pinpoint.

“I’m looking for some rather... unique items. Something that would pique the curiosity of a collector, perhaps something with a dark or mysterious history. And in exchange, I’ll give you protection and perhaps, some security for this place.” Having security for Velvet didn’t sound half bad. “I have some leftover items in my house, if you want those I’ll give them to you free of charge.”

Her eyes twinkle with interest as she considers my offer “Oh, really? Now that’s intriguing. I’d love to take a look at these leftover items, mi amor. They might just be what I’m looking for. But tell me, vida mía, what are they?” “They are a piece of the Koh-I-Noor Diamond, an original Picasso, and the Nebra Sky Disk… Just let me finish everything here and go home to bring me the things.” Valeria’s gaze flickers between me and the door, her mind clearly racing with excitement “I’d be delighted to see them, preciosa. You’re sure you don’t mind parting with them?”

“I really don’t, I’ve been trying to forget about them for a long time and didn’t know how. Is this a deal then?” I extend my hand for her to shake it, and when she does a shiver runs down my spine, I’m not sure why but ever since I saw her sitting at my bar a couple of hours earlier, I’ve needed to touch her, but not the lingering touch like the lines she’s been tracing on my arm but a whole touch, like this. Now, if this was her effect on me with only a handshake, what would happen when she touches my… Oh Gods, I stop my mind from going in that direction before I blush even more.

Valeria’s gaze is intense as she grips my hand in a firm handshake. “Yes, this is a deal.” I bring Valeria’s hand to my mouth and kiss the top like the true gentlewoman my mami raised me to be, I truly miss her. “I’ll be right back” I go out the door and hop on my motorcycle to get to my residence, it’s a small house a couple of minutes away from the bar. It’s my house, not my home. My home is in another country, with my family and the last bit of my innocence. When I got there I looked for the goods and my gun, I’m not that dumb, for all I know that woman could be part of the C.I.A., and I’m not going to take that risk. I pack the items, put them on a backpack, and head back to my bar.

I open the door to find the bar empty until I feel my chest hit the wall, knocking the air out of me. She was right behind me, breathing on my neck. So now, I’m not breathing properly for two reasons and I feel the wetness slit. She growled. “You left the door unlocked, anyone could’ve come in at any time. You’re lucky I was here to protect my place.” I left it unlocked because she was here, but I’m not about to say that. She backs away and I turn around.

“And you’re lucky I had the backpack in my hand, if I hadn’t you would’ve broken the things.” I huff and place the backpack on the counter. “Take a look, they’re inside” I step back and place my hand inside of my pocket, taking the safety out of my gun. I’m not sure if she heard it but better safe than sorry.

Valeria opens the backpack, her eyes never leaving the items in question “They’re beautiful.” She runs her hands over the crown and disk, her fingertips tracing the intricate details “And the painting... it’s stunning.” “Son todos tuyos, I don’t want to be associated with that part of my life anymore… How did you know where to find me?” I am partly relieved that the contraband is no longer mine but on the other hand, I need to find out if I need to take Valeria out.

“Tengo a mis informantes, and I’m not with the feds, sé que eso es lo que te preocupa. Now leave the gun alone. I’m not a threat to you.” “That still doesn’t relieve me.” I say. “If I were an undercover cop, would I have flirted with you all night before even trying to buy from you? Aparte, los policías son pendejos y jamás te habrían encontrado. I’m not a cop, I’m quite the opposite, actually.” She answered while continuing to carefully pack the items again. Meanwhile, I sit at a bar stool, it’s not quite comfortable but that’s the goal, making already drunk people want to leave and sober people want to drink to forget about it, drinking. “So you are dangerous, huh?” “Of course I am.” She smiles at me, it’s charming. “I think I saw my mouth water at that.” Now she’s laughing at me.

I blush but decide to change the subject. “I never get to sit on this side of the bar, it’s quite refreshing.” Valeria glances over at me once again, having finished packing, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “It’s always refreshing to see someone enjoying themselves, mi amor.” I chuckle “Why are you calling me “mi amor”, huh?” I’m teasing her again. “I knew you were into me but not to that level.” Valeria’s smirk grows as she leans on a table. “Oh, but I am, amor mío. You’re irresistible, you know that? And the way you blush so beautifully… it’s quite captivating.” I blush even more at her words. “I don’t blush! It’s the way I did my make-up.” How can she get me so flustered with such simple words?

Laughter bubbles up from Valeria’s chest, a light and airy sound that fills the room. “Ah, you flatter yourself. It’s adorable.” I decide to look in the other direction to avoid looking into her eyes. “I’m not doing that, pesada.” “If you’re not then I will. you’re beautiful, talented, and absolutely irresistible.” I feel a surge of braveness across me and decide to flatter her too. “Well, you’re not bad off yourself. Creative, dominant, and fucking gorgeous.” Valeria’s eyes widen in surprise, her smirk growing. “Oh, you think so?” She steps closer to me. “And I forgot to mention, that gloss you’re wearing looks like it tastes fucking delightful.” I really don’t know where I got this boldness from but I’m speaking my truth.

Valeria’s smirk turns predatory. “And what makes you say that, mi amor?” She glided her fingertips along my jaw, her lips were mere inches from mine. “Out of pure curiosity, nothing else.” I smirk. Vale chuckles softly at that as she leans in even closer. “Curiosity killed the cat but it certainly doesn’t deter me.” After saying that she finally kisses me. I’ve been wating for this all night and its even better than I thought. Valeria’s hands roams up my body, one stops at my hip and the other takes my gun out of my pocket. “Wouldn’t want you to shoot me, mi vida...”

#valeria garza x reader #call of duty #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #reader insert #bartending #fanfictions #i posted this first on a03 #las almas #im sooo gay

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cozzzynook · 5 months ago

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In Nyon. When they want to bond with someone they cook them a special meal. Rodimus does this and invites Ratchet and Drift over wanting to bond with them.

Except for some reason everyone thinks he's a bad cook even though he's not. Drift and Ratchet both refuse claiming they don't want to get food poisoned or die.

Rodimus is devastated thinking they don't want to bond with him.

Rodimus is so hurt when they refuse to eat his cooking.

He doesn’t know where the rumor that he couldn’t cook came from but he refuses to let it ruin his chance to be with Drift and Ratchet.

He’s extremely hurt they didn’t trust him when he said he could cook but he thinks of his track record and doesn’t blame them, even if he never lied to them.

He goes down to the main kitchen and cooks out in the open for the first time outside of being with the wreckers who loved his food.

Perceptor knew immediately who it was and stood right beside Rodimus with a bowl waiting for fuel.

Everyone thought Perceptor was crazy…until they smelled the food.

Suddenly every bot on board the ship wanted Rodimus’s food but he refused to give any away saw for perceptor who was family. He intended for his food to go to drift and ratchet who were the only bots missing save for Megatron.

Drift and Ratchet heard the commotion and went to check it out and saw mechs and femmes surrounding Rodimus who was cooking. They were shocked by how good the food smelled and doubt started creeping up their spinal struts as they inhaled the delicious aroma.

They finally got behind Rodimus and he beamed at them, asking them to try it.

With hesitation, they did so and immediately regretted ever saying Rodimus couldn’t cook.

They apologized profusely while asking for another bowl and that made Rodimus spoiler bounce as he gave them more.

The crowd dispersed and some recognized the courting gesture and were disappointed. They missed out.

“So?”

“We were wrong kid, ya can really cook.”

“Thanks,” Rodimus practically floated in his seat, “but..i just gotta know, who told you I couldn’t cook?”

He had an adorable confused expression that was combating their sheepish ones.

“I saw the mech throw up after eating your food while we were with the wreckers,” Drift said rubbing his helm.

Rodimus looked confused for a moment until he realized who Drift was talking about.

“The food wasn’t bad Drift. That bolt brain was allergic to that dish because of the sulfur I use in it. He knew that but he still wanted to eat it anyway because and I quote, “the taste was worth it.”

“Wait? You mean that bolt brain Dripper? I treated him for his fragged up tanks after eating what Rodimus made. That idiot ingested the food knowing it’d make him sick?”

“Hehe, yeah, we tried to tell him it wasn’t worth it but he did it anyway,” Rodimus laughed.

“We’re sorry for not believing you roddy,” Drift said looking guilt ridden.

“Sort kid, we should’ve believed you.”

“Its f-Megs?”

Out of the corner of his optic Rodimus saw Megatron’s servo slowly sneaking the big pot of food from the burner as he had a spoon in his intake.

“…i knew not to believe those rumors. I knew you could cook by your arms,” Megatron stated with a blush as he looked into the pot and at Rodimus’s blushing surprised face.

“…Its a wonderful Nyon tradition,” Megatron said, not making optic contact and looking awkward before taking a big gulp of the pot and rushing off with it.

“Hey! Megs! Wait what!! Who told you about the arm thing!! And how did you know the tradition??!”

Rodimus was standing with a servo outstretched as he blushed and his spoiler pulled in.

“What was that about?”

Drift looked confused with Ratchet and Rodimus covered his face plates feeling his spark spin faster.

Rodimus couldn’t answer as he felt his frame grow hot and his processor jumble.

He intended for the fuel to go to Drift and Ratchet…but now Megs…and he knew! He knew what it meant!”

‘What do i do now?’

#potential #potential dratchrod #dratchrod #hinted megarod #potential megarod #transformers #megatron #rodimus #drift #ratchet #Rodimus prime

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hugsandchaos · 5 months ago

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Remember the episode “Two Good To Be True”? How there’s an alternate universe where Knuckles and Sonic are sort of switched, Dave’s a good, smart guy, and Eggman’s color is actually green? I decided to make some headcanons and ideas for it!

To be honest, this is partially for the 6 people who always like these kinds of posts of mine, which I appreciate. You guys are sweet!

•Sonic is dumb, sure, but he’s surprisingly knowledgeable about first aid, a bit of cooking, and the basics of wilderness survival. He mostly knows it because he looks after Tails.

•This Knuckles lives in a treehouse. I can’t explain why, I just think it’d be fitting.

•Both Sonic and Tails live in a house built inside a cave, and Sonic has a hammock inside and outside.

•Dave does his best to make sure Meh Burger’s food isn’t a health hazard and works on his inventions in his spare time.

•Dave’s mother disapproves of him being a hero instead of a villain and they’ve fought about it before. The fights are slowly getting more frequent. Dave is considering the possibility of moving out, and he’s told Knuckles and Amy about this. They both plan to support their friend every step of the way, whatever he chooses.

•Dave tries to insist that his friends don’t have to pay, but knowing how bad the pay sometimes is for him, the group will sometimes put money in the tip jar or on the table and run. Basically the good version of eating and leaving without paying. (Sonic: *whispering* Quick, Tails! While he’s not looking! / Tails: *puts a ten dollar bill in the tip jar* / Sonic: *picks him up and runs* Come on!) I like to think that they were both stifling some giggles, and when Sonic runs, Tails lets it out and it’s this really wholesome scene.

•Tails is obsessed with airplanes. He likes all of Dave’s inventions, but airplanes hold a special place in his heart. Sonic takes him to the library every week to either reread the books he’s already read about them or check out any new ones.

•Knuckles grew up on Bygone Island.

•Tails and Sonic both washed up on the shore one day. (It was a nightmare when they woke up because they both thought they were in danger and panicked.)

•Knuckles looks down on Sonic a little, and not in an ill-intended way?? He just makes comments sometimes. For example, what he said in the beginning of Two Good To Be True: “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the grownups have a job to do.”

•This Sonic simply has to keep at least some of his sass, okay? I really liked that part of his character.

•Tails sometimes figures out the flaws in Dave’s inventions. He’s crazy smart for his age, and Sonic’s proud of him for it.

•Sonic, like Original Boom Knuckles, does have his moments where he says something sensible and smart. Example— Knuckles: Wow, Sonic! I expected you to have more trouble with leg exercises. / Sonic: Knuckles, I run, hit, and kick at the speed of sound. If my legs weren’t strong, they’d be broken to the point where they might as well be amputated a long time ago. / Knuckles: …You make a fair point.

•Instead of Shadow, the “rival” in the story is Rouge. The reason is largely unknown, but my guess is because she keeps stealing stuff. (I wonder when they’ll notice the pattern of the things she’s stealing…)

•Yes, like in the episode, it seems pretty likely that Amy x Knuckles will be a thing. And honestly, I can see them being a pretty healthy relationship. Don’t get me wrong, Rouge and Knuckles being shipped in this AU would be interesting, but I think the main one is going to be Knuckles and Amy.

•Knuckles has Phasmophobia, and there’s definitely a Halloween episode or story of him trying to face this fear. Sonic dresses up as a ghost to try to help, but the costume wasn’t convincing enough to instill any true terror.

•Knuckles is unfortunately a “hit first, ask later” when someone’s causing trouble. Sonic is the opposite, he tries to reason and ask the trouble maker about their motives, usually by disguising it as a joke or jab at the enemy.

•As for Shadow… Well, I guess you guys would have to wait and see, huh?

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love-and-monsters · 1 year ago

Text

The Ship and the Alien Pt. 4

M alien X GN reader, 6,315 words

The grand finale! In all seriousness, I got writers block on several parts of this and the ending turned out more bittersweet than I initially intended, so. I hope people are okay with this? I really wanted to get this out before October, too. Big Ls all around, I suppose. Speaking of, if you have any ideas for a Halloween-monster story, I'm eager to hear! I'd like more feedback about what people want to see.

Part one Part two Part three

Content warning: Depression, mentions of medical procedures, existential dread

You lay, curled in your bed, for the rest of the night. But no matter how long you lay there, eyes closed, you didn’t sleep. Grove-peace did, eventually, making little snorting noises on occasion. You didn’t move, even when it felt like your bladder would burst halfway through the night. He was clearly exhausted, and he wasn’t even sleeping in a proper bed. Because he wanted to stay with you.

That guilt comfortably settled in with all the other negative emotions you’d been feeling, weighing down your body like a thick, heavy coat.

There’s no natural light in your room, since it’s in the interior, but the lights set into the corners of your room seem to lighten and darken like the sun- they were stronger when you first got into the room, dimmed as it got later, then started to brighten again after quite a length of He time. Grove-peace stirred, ears twitching rapidly before his eyes opened and he stretched.

“Great sunsa,” he groaned, staggering to his feet. “I have got to stop falling asleep lying down. My legs are stiff.”

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted. “Please, I’ll be fine, just stiff.” He stretched all of his legs, even bending his back legs out in a way more reminiscent of a cat than a horse. “How are you doing?”

You shrugged. His face fell for a second before he hurriedly picked it back up. “Okay. Maybe you should have something to eat, then?”

“I just woke up,” you said. A lie, considering that you’d never fallen asleep, but maybe one that he’d buy. “I don’t really like eating right after waking up.”

He stared at you for a moment, ears twitching. “Okay,” he said, hesitant. “At least get up for a moment, then. Would you like to change your clothes? Shower? Go for a walk? I’ve always liked going for walks in the morning, so stretch my legs.”

You glared at him. How could a person be so prepared to do things right after waking up? It had been like, three minutes. “I’m good.”

It was weird, because a look of near distress flickered across his face for a moment before it was smothered by his ‘eager puppy’ look. “You’ve been lying down for a while. You must be at least a little stiff. I’m sure it would feel good to get up, even if only for a moment.” He shifted his legs, one after the other. “And I’d imagine you have to relieve yourself, too, at least.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong about that last one. You felt like you were going to explode, and as much as you didn’t feel like getting out of bed, you didn’t want to wet the bed, either. You shifted your limbs and crawled out of bed with an agility that could only be matched by a very drunk sloth.

Grove-peace looked pleased by it, though. He gestured toward the bathroom, practically following you there, thought not in. He respected your privacy at least that much.

Pissing in a centaur toilet was a little awkward- it was clearly designed for someone bigger than you with, uh, bits that were situated in a different position. It took a little maneuvering, but it wasn’t impossible. Whatever. If they were so happy to have a near-extinct species hanging out with them, they could clean up after you.

You fumbled back out of the bathroom, having washed your hand with actual water (thank god for small mercies. Then curse him for the big problems) and headed back toward your bed. Unfortunately, your path was blocked by Grove-peace.

“Do you need something?” you ground out. He stared everywhere except at you, eyes a little too wide, ears twitching, tail twisting back and forth behind him.

“Um.” His ears perked up. “Yes. We have some… ah… you need to go on a tour!”

“You already showed me around a little yesterday,” you said. You moved to step around him and he blocked your path, practically scrambling to stay in front of you. “What are you doing?”

“I just said.” His voice was a little too cheery- the edge of strain was showing through it. “I need to take you on a tour. You haven’t even seen any of the outdoor areas!”

You huffed. “I’m tired. And it’s early.”

“That’s the best time for a tour, though. There won’t be so many people around,” Grove-peace insisted. “Please? I’ll let you go to bed after this.”

You hesitated, grumbled, and considered. But he didn’t seem particularly eager to let it go. Eventually, you sighed. “Fine, fine. As long as it’s quick.”

He beamed at that and gestured with his tail for you to follow him. You did so, slogging along after his steps. It took so much motivation to keep up with him, even when he slowed down.

He led you through the building slowly, though that didn’t just seem to be for the purposes of letting you keep up- he also glanced over his shoulder at regular intervals and paused to peek around corners. Wherever he was taking you, it clearly wasn’t somewhere you were supposed to be.

Well, whatever. He could get himself in trouble, if he wanted to. All you had to do was play the part of an innocent little lamb, being dragged along to whatever he wanted to show you. You were just a poor, little, baby human! How could you be expected to know anything, when you had to depend on all the big, strong aliens around to protect you!

It wasn’t until he was stopping in front of a door to the outside that you realized that if you got caught and he got in trouble, he might get reassigned or something. And that would be kind of a problem, when he was the only centaur you’d met so far who treated you like an actual person more than a fun curiosity.

“Are we supposed to be doing this?” you asked.

“Not technically,” he said, casting another glance up and down the hallway. “But we’re not going to get caught. And you were pining for a bit of nature on the ship, weren’t you? So I think you’ll like…” He slid the door open with a flourish. “This!”

It was a park. Outdoors, but fenced off to make a neat little area. It didn’t quite look well-kept. Plants grew out in all directions, but they seemed to be generally kept off of some paths, and since the paths were designed for centaurs, they were certainly wide enough for you to walk on. There were riots of colors- even a few reddish-green plants popped up here and there, and there was a weird, squat tree-thing that was laden with plump, bulbous yellow flowers. A strong breeze picked up and one of them wobbled just a bit too much, then tilted and tumbled straight off the tree. It exploded into a burst of pollen as soon as it hit the ground.

“Don’t breathe that in,” Grove-peace warned. You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose.

“It’s not dangerous, is it?” Your curiosity really did want to go over there and take a look, but you weren’t stupid enough to disregard the warning. Grove-peace twitched his ears a couple of times, then stepped forward and carefully kicked the flower off the path.

“No, probably not. But we don’t want you having an allergic reaction to something here, either. Probably not good for you to breathe anything in.” He wrinkled his nose a little and shook himself off. “Ugh, those things even give me the sniffles when they explode too close.”

“I’m not allergic to you,” you said, giving his fur a cautious glance. It’s short and close to his skin, like a cow’s or horse’s, so maybe it’s not as aggravating as something like a cat’s would be.

“No, and that’s good. No idea what we would have done if you were.” He sighed. “They’ll probably give you an allergy examination later, as part of the non-emergency medical panels.”

Oh cool, more medical stuff. You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t say anything else. “But that’s not what I took you out here for,” he said, trotting forward with a little more enthusiasm. After following the path a little further, he knelt down next to a particularly large, almost overgrown bush. You knelt next to him, a little confused. His tail twitched excitedly behind him as he bent forward and started to click somewhere deep in his chest. He alternated between clicks and trills for a moment, and then the bush rustled.

A tiny little nose poked forward, followed by the body of a squat little animal. It wriggled on six stubby little legs, the frontmost ones tipped with blunt, spade-like claws. Its eyes were small, almost just little black spots on his face that blinked rapidly in the light of the garden. They reminded you a little of moles. Your centaur lowered his hand and the twitching nose went right into his palm, snuffling around with intense fervor. A couple other little critters poke their noses out of the bush as well, one of them skittering closer to you.

“You can touch them,” Grove-peace said. “They don’t bite- they can’t. No teeth.”

You extended your hand toward one of them and it shoved its little nose in your palm with a tickly sensation. You could feel its little breaths huffing against your skin. “What are these little guys?”

“They’re-” A series of clicks that you can’t physically replicate. Maybe you’ll just call them long moles. “They’re hardy little things, and very good for gardens, hence why they’re here. They always come with us when we terraform other planets, even if other animals don’t.”

You hesitate, letting the long mole wriggle around your palm for a moment before asking, “Where is your planet? Your… home?”

Grove-peace laughed. “Our ancestral home is quite a ways away. I’ve never been there. I’m what people call a ‘ship-hopper.’ I was born in space, I move between ships as work demands, and I only go planetside on occasion.”

“What about your family?” you asked. “Do you ever get to see them?”

“On occasion. It’s easier for people whose families are all on one planet to manage that sort of thing. Most of the time, I prefer to just give them a sensor call- it’s easier to manage that scheduling than it is to figure out who’s going whose ship and what scheduled transfers there are and who has to take what time off work in order to get there.”

“Space travel sounds complicated,” you said.

“It can be. It’s also quite interesting, though. I’ve met quite a few interesting people,” he said. “Present company included.”

He nudged your side, warm and gently, and there was a weird fluttering feeling that swooped through your chest.

There was silence for a little while. The long moles scrambled around, eventually crawling up your arms. They were surprisingly gentle, even when they were grasping at your clothes with long claws. Two of them managed to crawl all the way up to your armpits and nosed around like they were trying to attach themselves there.

“They like warmth,” Grove-peace said. “That’s why they’re so affectionate- that and they’re semi-domesticated at this point.”

Eventually, you had to put them back. They kept trying to crawl back to you in a piteously cute manner, but Grove-peace insisted on shooing you away. “They’ll go back home once we leave- they’re just all still looking for warmth.”

The pair of you snuck back to your room. “Do you feel better?” Grove-peace asked as you sat down in bed. You shrugged.

“They were really cute.”

Grove-peace nodded, shifting his legs again. His ears twitched anxiously. “You seem to have perked up a little. We could get something to eat now, maybe? Or something else, if you’d like to do that?”

“I just want to lie down,” you said. The long moles had been cute, but now that you were back in your room, it was sort of wearing off. Grove-peace scuffed a fore-foot against the floor, tail flicking back and forth.

“Maybe you can lie down after you eat something? Just a little. Or have something to drink? You’re…” Grove-peace trailed off, his expression stricken. You glanced sideways at him.

“Why are you here?” Your tone was neutral, less accusing and more curious. Grove-peace’s ears twitched and he tilted his head to one side like he hadn’t quite understood the question. “Like, you said so yourself. You’re a ship-hopper. Isn’t it weird for you to be on a planet like this?” “Well, yes,” he said, still uncertain, like he wasn’t sure where the conversation was going and he was trying to brace for a trick question. “But you’re here. So I’m here.”

“Don’t give me that crap.” Your voice was practically a snarl. Hurt flickered across his expression. The flare of guilt in your chest was immediate, but you pressed on. “I couldn’t pick up a lot of what was happening when I woke up, but I could put together the basics. You weren’t supposed to leave the ship, were you? You volunteered. So why are you here? Why did you want to come with me? Because I’m some last member of a species? Because I’m interesting? Be-”

“No!” Grove-peace protested. “Not- I do think you’re interesting, to be clear. But that’s not why I came with you. Well. Not the only reason.” He moved closer, settling next to your bed again. “When we found your ship, it was a momentous discovery. We thought it was completely gone, so we would only be studying corpses and using the ship to find others of your species, should there be any left. But we found you.” His vice got breathy, awestruck. “It was amazing for scientific reasons, of course, and as a xenobiologist, I was thoroughly fascinated by you when we were taking you out of hibernation. But then when we took you out…”

He trailed off, thumping his back feet against the ground. “You were small and alone and helpless. And the instant I saw you, you weren’t some kind of specimen anymore. You were a person, and you were alone. How could I have left you after that?”

He fell sort of miserably silent after that. You stared at him. “You’re still here because you feel responsible for me?”

“To a certain extent. But I’m also here because I think you’re a fascinating person, and I think you deserve to have one person here who’s completely on your side.”

You stared at him for a long moment. There was a weird trembling feeling in your gut and your eyes stung a little. “Thank you,” you whispered after several moments of silence. It felt like a poor response to his big speech, but you really couldn’t think of any way to express what you were feeling. He laughed quietly.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t need it.” He unfolded his legs, stretching as he stood up. “I’m going to go get you some food, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the room. There was still that weighted sadness over your entire body, but something in your chest felt warmer. Gentler. Everything was just the tiniest bit brighter.

When Grove-peace came back, you even ate some of the food he offered. And the look of relief on his face made that weighted sadness even less pronounced.

The days blurred together after that. Apparently days on this planet were slightly longer than days on Earth, which screwed with your sleep schedule for a while. Thankfully, it wasn’t so different from Earth that you couldn’t adjust to it. The medical tests continued, from being poked and prodded with needles to just lying down in a big pool for hours. You fell asleep during that one, to the amusement of Grove-peace. He lingered around for most of your tests and acted as something of an interpreter or go-between for the scientists. Not that they wanted him there. They all wanted to talk with you directly. Fortunately, they also caved pretty quick when you just refused to talk without Grove-peace.

In the midst of all that, they started preparing your home.

They’d gotten to the whole thing rather quickly, all things considered. Apparently, they were using human housing blueprints they’d downloaded off your section of the ship to create the building, with some modifications to make it accessible for centaurs. It was set not too far from the facility you were already living in, which you’d discovered when Grove-peace had taken you out to the site. The area had been swarming with centaurs and mechanical building equipment, and you’d been reluctant to go closer. Most people you interacted with had stopped trying to touch you without permission, but you still didn’t appreciate the blatant staring.

“It’ll be built on a shift-frame, so they’ll be able to move it easily, though that also means you won’t have a basement,” Grove-peace said as he examined the building plan in front of him. You had a copy that was translated into English, but you still struggled to understand it. You weren’t an architect. “They’re planning a garden area, though- indoors, but you might be able to grow some Earth plants, with approval. That’ll be nice, right?”

You hummed noncommittally. Yesterday, they’d pinged you an update on the Human Ship Rescue Mission. It was pretty much the same as the last one- nothing. There were some notes about them commandeering a ship to actually go out there and search, but nothing concrete. Super fun. You sure were glad they were taking their time to be thorough about it.

(Okay, yes, objectively it was better that they weren’t rushing into a rescue mission half-cocked and all that because if they made it to the human ship and like, exploded or something, that would make everything worse, but also. It was massively frustrating sitting around and doing a shit-ton of nothing).

“Are you still there?” Grove-peace asked with a gentle nudge to your side.

“Where else would I be?” you mumbled. “I’m just here. Looking into getting a lovely new cottage while the remains of my species drift happily through the black death-void of space. Real good time I’m having.”

Grove-peace fell silent and a worm of guilt worked its way through your chest. Okay, that wasn’t quite fair. It wasn’t like any of this was his fault. He was just trying to make you feel better. Even if all you wanted to do was lie face down in the dirt and let the planet eat you. “Sorry.”

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Grove-peace said immediately, which was his fun new phrase. Every time you got pissy, he was all ‘well, you’re allowed to be upset.’

“Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t mean I should be taking it out on you.” You slouched down into the dirt. Maybe you should have cared more about the clothes you were wearing, considering they were now technically relics of a near-extinct species. But you were also a relic of a near-extinct species and you didn't care about yourself, so.

“Are you tired?” Grove-peace asked, sitting next to you. “I can carry you.”

“I’m not tired. I just don’t feel like walking anymore.” You gazed toward the clearing your home was going into, the little patch of fenced-off framework that had already gone up. “I’m not physically tired. Just heavy, you know.”

Grove-peace nodded. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

You leaned your torso against his and let out a shuddering sigh. The contact helped. Really helped, actually. Just his physical presence, the reassuring warmth and weight and alive-ness of another person there settled the frantic, painful ache inside you. “You are helping.”

“Something more I could do to help,” he insisted. “Something to take the pain away.”

He sounds mournful, as if your pain is causing him pain, too. Guilt flashes through you, worse this time. “There’s not a way you can do that,” you said. “And I don’t know if I would want you to if you could. I feel like maybe… maybe I’m supposed to feel like this. Like I’m obligated to mourn.”

“That doesn’t seem like it’s fair to you. You’re just supposed to be sad for the rest of your life? Even if you could fix it?”

“If my species is going extinct, I don’t really want to be happy about it. I don’t even feel good being neutral about it. It feels right to be miserable about it.” Grove-peace fell silent for a long moment. You stared up at the sky. Was the sky a slightly darker blue here? Maybe. It was hard to tell. You didn’t’ have pictures to compare it to.

“I still hope you’ll be able to be happy,” he finally said. “Maybe it’ll take a while. And maybe it won’t be the same as it was before. But I still hope you’ll be able to be happy.”

“I spent most of my life with a sword hanging over my head,” you said. “We all knew humanity was going extinct back on Earth. Since I was like, ten, people knew that only a small percentage of us would be saved. And there was nothing we could do. When I was picked, I was still sad, but it sort of… abated, I guess. For a little while. Like I actually had hope that maybe I was going to be a part of something bigger. That my life mattered. And then when I woke up again, everything was gone.” You closed your eyes for a moment. “Maybe this is just the way I’m supposed to be. Mourning everything all the time. Even if things get better, I think there’s still going to be a part of me that’s mourning. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.”

Grove-peace curled his tail around me. “You still matter now.”

“It’s not the same. I matter to you guys, because I’m the last of my species. But I don’t matter to other people. I’m not… a part of something in the same way. I mattered to those people as a part of their community, as someone who was building the future with them. Now I’m… like a museum piece. I matter, but I’m separate. I matter like a fun curiosity, not like a person.”

Grove-peace’s tail curled even closer to you, resting across your lap. “You matter like a person to me.” The little translation bot was pretty close to your head, but even then, it barely projected loud enough for you to hear it. His thumping was, similarly, barely present enough for you to feel it.

Maybe it was a simple, cheesy statement. But it made your eyes water regardless.

There was a long pause. Grove-peace seemed to be deep in thought about something, his hands absently playing with the strands of hair that had finally started sprouting from your head again. They were still short, but they’d earned you some fascination from quite a few centaurs, since their hair was short all over their bodies.

“Do you want to leave?” Grove-peace’s voice was still quiet, almost nonexistent again.

“Leave?” you repeated. “What do you mean, leave?”

“Go somewhere else. I have a basic flight license. That’s enough to get us in the air and out of direct orbit. And then we can bug it off the star routes and head anywhere we want.”

You snorted, lips twitching. “Where, exactly, would we be going? And how do you plan to get me on the ship anyway? I’m precious, you know. Like an artifact. They’re not going to let you just take me.”

“I could smuggle you. You’re not that big. I’m sure I could get you into a piece of luggage.” He smirked a little. “I could pass you off as a big alien pet.”

You elbowed his side. “Yeah, sure. Let’s say you do manage to get me off planet without anyone noticing, which I don’t think you could do. Where do we go after that?”

“Anywhere we want!” he said, then seemed to reconsider. “Well, not anywhere. We would have to avoid major population areas, since they would notice you’re gone eventually and send out an alarm. But we can just move off into the unregulated areas of space, and no one will bother us there.”

“Uh huh. There won’t be any way for them to track down the ship that took off with their most precious endling,” you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster.

“I’m sure I could disable the internal tracker systems,” he said, not sounding sure at all. “And space is big- if we get enough of a head start, we could get away with enough headway for them to miss us.”

“And then what? Where do we go from there?” you asked. He fell silent for a few minutes.

“Anywhere we want, as long as it’s not in heavily populated space.”

“Uh huh. We’re going to land on whatever planet we want and start our own little colony,” you said. Your voice was still sarcastic, but you couldn’t help the undercurrent of longing in it. Grove-peace must have picked up on it, because he shifted to better hold you with his tail and arms.

“Yes. We’ll steal the seeds and food we need and I can get all the information we need. We’ll set up our own little home on some tiny, backwater world, and we’ll live without anyone interfering,” Grove-peace finished triumphantly and a little wistfully.

The pair of you fell silent for a bit. You sighed. “We can’t do that, though. We don’t know how to survive out there. We probably wouldn’t make it to the nearest planet, much less some place in the middle of nowhere in space.”

“We would probably be captured before we even left the planet’s claimed space,” Grove-peace agreed. “Even if I did manage to take the tracker off the ship, they would probably be able to track it by engine pulse alone- it’d be tough, but they’d do it.”

You ran your palm over your head. “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t put a tracker in me yet. Like you do for a pet you might lose.”

“They wouldn’t have to,” Grove-peace said. “You’re noticeable enough that they could rely on word of mouth alone, unless you got caught by smugglers or something. Actually, that’s probably one of the reasons they’re so worried about you going off-planet. They’re not wrong when they say space travel is dangerous on its own, but there are way more thriving smuggler rings in space than planetside, especially if you’re going beyond the major station locations.” “What do the smuggler rings even want with me? Are they going to chop me up and sell my meat to the highest bidder?” you complained.

“Maybe, but I think they’d probably think that’s a waste. More likely, they’d sell you to the highest bidder, and they’d do whatever they want. A lot of people like alien pets, and you would probably be quite a status symbol, seeing as you can talk.” Grove-peace pauses. “And there are probably other people who would like an alien pet for… other reasons.”

“Other reasons?” you repeated. “What, like to bang them?”

It was clearly the answer, because Grove-peace jolted like you’d stuck him with a pin. His eyes, wide as saucers, land on you. Maybe he thought he was speaking too low for the translator to catch, or maybe he thought you wouldn’t pick up on the implications. But the way he was staring at you made you think that he wasn’t just surprised. He looked embarrassed that you’d heard him.

“Wait,” you said, not quite holding back your laughter. “You- you want to bang an alien!”

“That’s not-!” He jolted to his feet so suddenly that you were sent toppling to the ground. It didn’t hurt, and you popped up a moment later. “I didn’t- I was just saying some people might want to, I’ve heard there are communities that find that kind of thing appealing, so-”

“You wouldn’t get so flustered if it was just something somebody else did,” you pointed out. “Let me guess: you know about those communities because you’re in them?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then seemed to crumple in on himself. “I am so sorry. I- it’s not something- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I swear, I don’t expect anything, I was just- just-” He covered his face with his hands, his forelegs buckling like he was about to drop into a bow. “I know this is probably awkward for you, but I swear, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Ohhh my god.” You covered your mouth with a hand, but it couldn’t quite disguise your laughter. “You’re kidding. You actually want to, uh. You know. Get with me?”

“No! That’s not- I swear, it was never my intention! I- It was something that got me interested in being a xenobiologist, but I would never, ever try to- I’m so sorry.” He looked perfectly miserable, so much so that you took a little pity on him.

“What are you apologizing for? You haven’t done anything wrong,” you said.

“But I don’t want you to think that I was only doing that so you would like me,” he said, miserable. “I was being honest before, when I said I didn’t come with you for any ulterior motives. I mean, I am fascinated by aliens in general, and the first sophont alien is a big discovery, but also…” He trails off. “I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe my, er, fascination with aliens did help, in that it helped me see you more like a person than I think some of the others do. But I swear, I was never trying to get you in my debt or to… seduce you.”

“I’ll be honest,” you said. “You don’t come across as someone who really ‘seduces’ others.”

That was toeing dangerously close to an insult, but he took it in good humor. “Ah, well, no. I don’t have much experience in that department.” He took a tentative step back toward you. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were upset, you know. It must seem like I’ve been your helper under false pretenses.”

“Not really. I don’t think you’re that good at being subtle or manipulative,” you said.

“I could be,” he offered. “You wouldn’t know it if I really was.”

“I suppose not. But I’m gonna trust you. You’ve been pretty good to me all this time, and I’ve never felt uncomfortable or unsafe around you. I definitely trust you more than any other centaurs I’ve met.” Grove-peace came back to your side and you rested a hand comfortably on his side, where his torso met the more horse-like portion of his body. “You’re a good person, you know?”

“I’m grateful you think that way,” Grove-peace said. “I’ll try to make sure I can live up to that.”

You huffed out a gentle sigh. “We should probably be getting back, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably,” Grove-peace agreed, though he didn’t move at all. “Are you, uh. Feeling any better than before?”

You hesitated for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. “Like I said, I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel completely better. But… I think I’m okay right now.” You leaned against him. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course. Always,” he said. “Here, want to get on and ride for the rest of the way?”

“You’re cool with it?” you asked.

“I offered,” he laughed. He knelt and you carefully got on his back before he took off back in the direction of the main building. You leaned against his back, tired, but comfortable in his company.

Months passed. They finished your house. You moved in. It was… nice. It was a big house. They let you grow some Earth plants, provided you grew them in a specific, climate-controlled area and you basically followed hazmat procedures when entering and exiting the area. They even got you a computer that let you access the archives of the computers on the ship, so you could scroll through the instructions and cultural information they had on there. You’d learned more about humans in the time you’d been on an alien planet than in all the time you’d live on Earth. In fairness to you, the ‘everyone is going to die soon’ attitude on Earth hadn’t been conducive to a good learning atmosphere, and there wasn’t a ton else to do now.

Grove-peace had been introducing you to centaur culture too, little by little. You didn’t actually visit the nearby settlement all that often, but when you did, he was there as your guide, pointing out little aspects of their world to you. There were a lot of similarities between them and humans. Centaurs held festivals, celebrated art, had restaurants ranging from fine dining to fast food, and had streets lined with shops to buy things you needed and things you really didn’t But there were some weird aspects, too- their music was weird and discordant, and they could apparently see a slightly different color spectrum from you, so some of their art looked weird, and you couldn’t eat most of their food because at least three of the most common stapes of centaur food were either undigestible to you or gave you allergic reactions.

That said, there wasn’t much of a reason to go into town much. But you did. Because Grove-peace liked walking with you and you liked walking with him.

Most of your time was spent with him, really. To the extent that, one day, you leaned over the arm of your couch to where he was seated on the floor next to you and asked, “Do you wan to move in with me?”

He blinked at you. “What?”

“I mean, you’re always here already. Why not?” You finished off the little bracelet you’d been weaving around your fingers and held it out to him. “Here.”

He allowed you to slide it onto his wrist. It was a friendship bracelet you’d learned to make when you were little, but bringing in some centaur styles of design. Grove-peace twisted it around his wrist, a happy expression on his face.

“I’m going to have to ask, but…” He glanced at your face and trailed off. Something softer and gentler crossed his face. “But I don’t think I care that much what they say. I’ll be here anyway.”

You grinned and passed your hand over his head. He leaned into your touch, expression peaceful. “Hey. Grove-peace?”

He didn’t say anything. You nudged him. “Grove-peace? Are you paying attention to me?”

“Hm?” He blinked at you. “Oh, you were talking to me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Did you forget your own name?”

He rumbled his laughter. “Ah. Well, that’s not technically my name.”

“What?” You sat up sharply. “What do you mean? Have I been calling you a nickname?”

“Of sorts, I suppose. My name means grove-peace. Or, I think a more accurate translation would be ‘peaceful grove’ but it’s the same thing, really. The translators automatically try to translate all words, so if a name has a meaning, it’ll try to translate the meaning.”

“Then what’s your real name?” you asked.

“If I say it, the translator will just translate it,” he pointed out. “But… Here.” He took one of your hands in his and brought it down to his chest.

The rumbling and clicking started up again, vibrating up through your fingers as he said his name. The translator near your ear said “Grove-peace,” but you were more focused on the feeling beneath your fingers.

“You can keep calling me Grove-peace, of course,” he said. Hour hand was still on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns along the back of it.

“If the translators work that way, does my name get translated too?” you asked.

“Sort of. The translations come from all the onboard computers on your ship and there weren’t many name translations, but none of us can really say your name very well, so you do have a sort of nickname.” He shifted, a little embarrassed. “I’m the one who gave it to you, right after you woke up.”

“And the nickname is?” you pressed when he didn’t say anything else. He looked rather embarrassed, but tightened his fingers on yours as he kept your hand on his chest.

The rumbling started up again, and the translator near your head chirped out “Star survivor.”

“It comes from an old story,” he continued. “There were many more stars, once, but a tragedy happened and most of them died. The last star, our sun, eventually managed to have its children, both the ones we see in the sky and the ones on our original homeworld. They say the stars we live beneath now are our siblings, in a way.” He flicked his ears in a centaur shrug. “I thought it was fitting.”

You put your hand over his, tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. “I like it.”

He leaned against you for a moment. “Have you checked the reports from the ship lately?”

Not The Ship, but the ship sent to find it- there’s no other ship he would be referencing. “Yeah. Still no updates. It’s only been a few months. You said it could be years before anything comes of it.”

“Yeah. Probably,” he agreed. You felt a bit chilled by it. Likely the only human around for years, if not forever.

But Grove-peace was warm and holding you. And you, despite the sadness that always sat in your chest, were calm and at peace.

And that was okay.

#exophilia #original writing #alien boyfriend #alien partner #ocxoc #reader insert #male monster #monster lover #monster romance

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mare--noctis · 1 year ago

Note

slow dancing with astarion?

this one kind of got away from me

send me prompts!

Naithrel evorlethor eryndorael esilissyr

(Together we shall dance under the starry sky)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion x You (gn terms) CW: Established Relationship, Slow-Dancing, Mentions of Cazador, Implied Past Trauma, Word Count: 2,053

Astarion has snuck away from the party and Tav goes to find him, slow dancing ensues

It takes a moment to notice what was wrong with the scene in front of you. Happy faces cajole with each other in the tavern, flasks of ale slopping over bench tops as the people toast to the good health of every living thing. The troupe in the corner belt out tune after tune, the younger folk pairing off to dance while the children run under table legs in an elaborate game of chicken-chasing: the fan-dangled party game you introduced to the townsfolk. You spy Karlach - having recently acquired the ability to touch others without turning them to ash - challenging anyone in the vicinity to arm wrestles with a steadily growing pile of coin beside her. Gale and Shadowheart stand near one of the rear walls, talking quietly and observing the merriment through weary eyes. Lae’zel stoically bears the weight of a child’s curiosity as the tiefling children you rescued crowd around to hear her war stories. Even Wyll is deep in the goblet holding court with an enraptured audience, swapping tales of derring do with Halsin to the delight of the fans.

Then it hits you. That flash of white hair, usually swindling someone of their coin while in an inebriated state, was missing. You scan the room one more time to make sure, to no avail. Astarion wasn’t here.

Disengaging politely with the wife of the mayor you were chatting with, you slip out of the main room towards the stairs that take you to the rooms above. The inn-keeper had given you rooms on the top most floor, away from the smells of the stable yard below with a pretty little prospect of the town green. This was where you were headed now, leaning on the wall to stay steady as the bottles of Chultan Fireswill catch up to you. Astarion’s room is empty at first, but you spy the ornate clothes he had dressed in for the celebration tossed haphazardly over the end of his bed, and the cool breeze against your cheek alert you to the open balcony doors.

Astarion is there, one hand smoothing over the knots and whorls in the wood, eyes fixed on the glint of ship lights in the far distance. You study him for a moment: the moonlight turning his white hair into shining silver, as is spun from the finest silk this side of the Greypeak Mountains, his pale skin looking as if it was carved from the purest marble.

You intend to walk over and join him quietly, but your little toe against the edge of the cabinet had other ideas, muffling several curse words as the marble shoulders tense. You shake off the pain and continue forward, out into the cool night where there was nary a cloud in the sky. Stars wink back at you as you settle in next to him, the warm press of your bodies pleasant in the night air.

“You’re turning into Wyll” you say after a long moment, watching the sails sway on the ocean. “All this sneaking off at parties, he’s a bad influence.”

Astarion barks a short laugh at that and focusses his attention to tracing the grain of the railing.

“Everything ok?”

You feel the sag in his body as he deflates a little, leaning closer into your warmth.

“Nights like these… people partaking in frivolous amusement… serves as a stark reminder of what I am” he says bitterly.

You link your pinky around his, eyes firm on the horizon as he stops tracing the wood and starts tracing the lines on your palm.

“Everything I drink tastes like vinegar and everything I eat tastes like ash…” he trails off, following a deep blue vein up along your forearm. “And now that we’re near the city, I…”

He falters, stilling cool fingers in the crook of your elbow to feel the thrum of your fast-beating heart. You turn to lean a hip against the railing, starting your own tracing from his hand up over his bicep, over his neck and cheekbone to brush curls delicately over one pointed ear.

“I can’t escape the memories of what Cazador made me do in establishments such as this” he finishes quietly, thumb gently brushing the side of your elbow as his gaze falls to the floor. You pull him into a hug, arms looping low around his slender waist as his go around your shoulder, face burying into your neck.

You noticed over the course of your relationship how little Astarion got to experience intimacy for intimacy’s sake – the nights lounging by the fire in his lap with a book Gale recommended open between you as you read passage after passage, a kiss brushed lightly over a cheek when greeting him after time apart, the languid kissing in the wee hours of the morning when neither of you could sleep, hands exploring gently without intent – and just how much of his sexual proclivities were only about the sex.

Those nights curled up in each other’s arms quickly became tradition, whether you were reading a book, or swapping stories from your childhood, or discussing the finer points of caring for cashmere cloth while travelling, and your companions quickly adopted your tent as extra storage since you rarely spend any time in it. Gale would comment on it occasionally, comparing Astarion to Tara with the way his eyes gleam possessively if someone got too close, and you have caught Halsin on more than one occasion studying the two of you with poorly concealed desire.

The sex was great, as it had always been, but once you were past the awkward admissions of power and manipulation you realised that Astarion had no idea how to be in a loving relationship. His boundaries were set it all sorts of fucked up ways, twisted and warped by Cazador and his own self-loathing, and they were your challenges to unravel – one experience at a time.

Amongst the sanctity of your companions, Astarion could hardly bear a minute without your touch in some way; a hand on the shoulder, a ruffle of hair, a peck on the lips in passing. He always found some way to bump your hip while working, to trace a finger down your arm, to wrap his hand around whatever limb he could reach.

He craved the warmth of your skin. You always lamented at how you ran hot as a child, sweating it out over brutal summers, but it is a blessing in disguise as you lay wrapped around each other of an evening, cold lips pressed to a warm neck and legs tangled in perfect equilibrium.

You begin to walk back slowly, pulling Astarion with you as he catches your gaze. Inky black eyes in the moonlight turn to soft red inside the room as you light the candles with a soft word. He presses a kiss to your neck, your jaw, your cheekbone, over your nose until your lips meet softly, tenderly as hands splayed over your shoulders push you closer together.

“Wait, my love” you murmur, smiling when he chases your lips with a pout. “I want to dance.”

His face falls minutely, then fixes in a pleasant smile.

“By all means darling, let’s go downstairs and rally the band!” His laugh is forced so you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, kissing him quiet. You pull back and close your eyes, focussing on the smell of Astarion’s parfum, the taste of wine on your lips, the touch of gentle hands on your back, and you reach into the Weave.

Pleasure swirls around you, tendrils of intent wrapping around your hand as you lifted it between you two to show him the purple essence. You hum the tune in your head and will the music into existence, eyes opening triumphantly as the sounds of a flute and harp echo softly around you. Astarion’s eyes never leave your face as you take one of his hands and slide the other around his waist, desire and an amount of trepidation clear as day.

“I don’t want the band” you say simply, swaying with the music. “I want to dance with you.”

Astarion’s smile is purer than anything you have ever encountered as he takes the lead in waltzing a slow, haphazard circle of the room. “My darling” he whispers, kissing you deeply before guiding you through a slow spin. “My love.” You come back to his arms feeling lighter than a feather, adoration for your lover swelling until it felt fit to burst from your chest. Something must have shown on your face because his eyes crease in amusement, lips pressed to your temple as you sway to the melody. “My divine grace. You are surely a succubus sent to capture my soul for I don’t understand how I deserve to know your love” he says quietly into your hair, thumb idly stroking the small of your back. You go to speak but he silences you with soft kiss, pulling away the barest amount to speak as if his words were a sacred prayer. “You have been nothing but kind and patient - accepting my faults without condescension or malice. You have taken my broken spirit and breathed life into a long-dead heart with nary a thought to compensation.”

He stills in the middle of the room, red eyes bright with wonder, the hand holding yours coming up to cup your cheek. Tracing his thumb over your bottom lip he draws you in for a deep, tender kiss, pulling your bodies so close you are sure you will melt into him.

“I might have stayed the irascible, wounded man incapable of leaving the shadows of my past if you had not taken my hand and drawn me to the very light I avoided for nigh 200 years.”

Your heart beats rapidly, surely to burst out of your chest as you tighten your arms, trailing kisses down his temple and jaw. He has come so far from the man you met by the nautiloid crash; a man who closed himself off from anything that could possibly hurt him, hiding pain and uncertainty behind a veneer of snark and derision. It seems a lifetime ago to the man currently in your arms, and if all goes well, he shall stay there for a lifetime to come.

“For the first time in 200 years I am hopeful for my future.” His voice was small, but the conviction was clear. “For the first time… I imagine a life with someone by my side. I could never have hoped to experience the love you have so freely given me, when all you received in return was lies and attempts at cohesion.”

You smile at that, bringing one hand to cover the one on your cheek and the other to press over his still heart. “I would have made do” you tease, pleased to see the joke land positively. “I am so proud of you Astarion. From the first moment we shared, your vulnerability – even though it pained you at the time – is something I will treasure forever. I see the light in you, my love, and it is breathtaking.”

The candlelight seems to pulse with your words, glowing even brighter as the music swells to a triumphant chorus.

“You are deserving of a happy ending my darling elf. My only wish is that I am written by your side when our stories are told.” Tears well in your eyes and spill but you find you don’t care, pressing a kiss to the tear tracks on Astarion’s own cheek. He pulls you towards the bed and helps you rid yourself of your party clothing, settling alongside you under the rough sheets as you will the music to cease. The candlelight dims and you drift into a contented sleep, lips pressed to your hair murmuring loving epithets until your eyes droop. Just before they shut, you hear the familiar lilt of Elvish;

“Leuthilsel, delaesyrn eni, su'lmélo. Phorael'sar nindol su'linueth natha. Ren amin mindelara, natha darthas. Galennor tuulo’laer, eldalié. Syl’esske, melamin, melme’amin. Sylvaris, lyrie’nythas, varulitharien. Naithrel evorlethor eryndorael esilissyr.”

You smile through the tears and press a soft kiss to Astarion’s throat, finishing the vow in a voice laced with happiness.

“Ai’tel’quessir, mirimaar amin, nindelar. Leuthilsel mirimaar tel’quessir. Tel’quess eni.”

Here is the translation of the Elvish:

“My beloved, heart of mine, forever. By the stars’ grace we are bound. In your eyes I find home, my heart rejoices. Forever we walk, together. For all eternity, my love, my soul’s mate. Sylvan beauty, my heart’s delight, enchanter of the woods. Together we shall dance under the starry sky.”

“To the elves, our people, we shall belong. My beloved among the elves. My elf.”

Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! K

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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 year ago

Text

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 4

The Supplication of a Dead Man's Hand

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: angst; injury; fake medicine; hurt comfort; alcohol use; Fox girlies don't come for me

Suggested Listening:

Summary: The Rex, Echo, and Gregor return with Fireball, and Riyo gets to know Echo a little better.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones. A huge thank you to @freesia-writes for beta reading this chapter!

Here the stone images are raised, here they receive the supplication of a dead man's hand under the twinkle of a fading star.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Setting up the surgical pod took the better part of the day, and Riyo was grateful she had no pressing business in the senate. She knew Cerra didn’t really need her assistance, but it was such a relief to not have to keep up her careful masquerade, and Riyo was grateful for the invitation.

If she were completely honest, Riyo had to admit she found Cerra somewhat intimidating—even a little terrifying, at times. There was something about her silent intensity that made Riyo wonder just how close the woman was to snapping at any given moment. It made the senator nervous, and she found herself babbling awkwardly in her presence.

Cerra surprised her. Yes, she was prickly, but she was also surprisingly kind, and Riyo had ended up revealing more about herself than she had ever intended. She wasn’t sure why; Cerra certainly hadn’t pressured her. Quite the opposite, in fact. But when Riyo had spoken of her grief for Fox, something about Cerra’s reaction made Riyo think she empathized more than she let on.

They had just finished calibrating the surgical pod and was running a final diagnostic when a loud beeping sound reverberated through the garage.

“What’s that?” Riyo asked, alarmed.

“Proximity alert,” Cerra replied, wiping her hands on a rag. “It’s probably Rex.”

Despite Cerra’s calm demeanor, Riyo couldn’t help but notice that her hand drifted almost imperceptibly toward the blaster strapped to her thigh. Riyo slipped off the pod and hurried to the front of the shop as they heard the familiar clang of a ship landing on the platform outside the garage.

She’d be lying if she told herself that the opportunity to spend more time with Echo hadn’t formed a large part of her motive for visiting the shop, and she was relieved that he had returned before she needed to depart. A small stab of guilt coursed through her. Am I being disloyal to Fox? Is it too soon to be interested in someone else?

Cerra followed more slowly. The freighter ramp was down, and Rex disembarked first, supporting a clone in green armor as he limped out of the ship. He was carrying his helmet, and his face was tense with pain. Gregor and Echo followed behind Rex and the new clone, and Gregor thumped Echo on the back, laughing triumphantly.

“Welcome home, boys,” Cerra called. “Need any help?”

“I could eat. Not if you're cooking, though,” Gregor said with a cheeky grin.

Riyo’s eyes flitted to Cerra, wondering how she would react to the commando’s casual taunt, but surprisingly, a tiny smile flitted across her lips, and she hurried to help Rex as he reached the bottom of the ramp.

“It’s your lucky day,” Cerra said. “The senator brought snacks.”

“Fireball, I’d like you to meet Cerra Kilian and Senator Riyo Chuchi,” Rex introduced them.

"It's nice to meet you, Fireball," Riyo greeted the young clone.

"Senator," he gasped through gritted teeth.

Cerra moved to support him under his other arm, easing his helmet out of his hand and passing it to Riyo. “Easy, buddy. I've got you. Do you need a medkit?”

He shook his head. “Rex patched me up on the shuttle.” His voice was tight. “Just waiting for the bacta to work.”

Together with Rex, Cerra led Fireball to the shabby old sofa and got him situated as comfortably as possible. Riyo went to the kitchenette and doled out the soup she’d brought in a heated delivery canister, then distributed it to the grateful team, checking in with each of them to make sure everyone had made it back safely. Cerra declined the cup Riyo offered her, mumbling something about checking the ship’s supplies, and then disappeared into the freighter. Riyo went to Echo last and settled next to him on the sofa, basking in his soft, warm smile as she handed him his food.

Cerra was relieved to escape into the silence and solitude of the freighter. She could only hope that someday her treacherous brain would stop seeing Fives in the face of every clone she encountered. It wasn’t as difficult when she had time to prepare, and she knew that she would eventually have to get used to it if she stayed with Rex.

She took a quick inventory and restocked the ship’s medical supplies. Even from inside the freighter, she could hear Gregor telling the senator about the mission. It sounded like it had gone relatively smoothly, right up until Fireball took a blaster bolt to the thigh. But the clone was alive and free, so Cerra counted it as a win. She worked methodically, telling herself that she was just being conscientious, and not that she was avoiding interacting with Fireball until her brain had time to catch up to reality.

It’s not him, she told herself sternly.

Heavy footsteps on the ramp warned Cerra of Rex’s approach.

“Did you get the pod up and running?” he asked.

“Just finished when you got back,” she replied.

“I’d like to remove Fireball’s chip as soon as possible,” he said.

“Do you think he’s up to it?” Cerra asked. “His injury looked nasty.”

“It’s too dangerous to leave it in,” Rex said with finality. It was unmistakably an order, even if it wasn’t phrased as one.

“Understood,” Cerra nodded, before adding, “So long as he agrees.”

“How are supplies?” Rex asked, ignoring her tiny show of insubordination.

“Getting low,” Cerra acknowledged. “I’ll have to make a run soon. But we should have enough bacta and stims for now.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “When you go, take Echo with you.”

Cerra frowned impatiently. “We’ve been through this. It’s too risky for a clone to go. If anyone recognizes him—”

“They won’t,” Rex interrupted.

“You don’t know that,” Cerra said with an irate huff, but she let it go for the moment.

She finished restocking the supplies, and when she exited the ship, Riya and Echo stood alone on the landing platform. They leaned close together as they spoke, and Cerra hurried into the garage, acutely aware that she was encroaching on a conversation that was not meant for her to hear.

“Have you been keeping safe?” Echo asked.

He stood close to Riyo, close enough that he could smell her subtle, sweet perfume. Close enough for him to admire the way her tattoos curved over her cheekbones and emphasized her beautiful eyes.

“Yes,” she said. “My guards have doubled their shifts, but they haven’t uncovered any further threats against me. It seems that Rampart was the only one behind the assassination attempt, after all.”

“I hope so,” Echo said. “I hate to think that you’re putting yourself in danger for us.”

In the semi-darkness, the whirling lights of air speeder traffic reflected in Riyo’s golden eyes as she stared up at him. “Isn’t that what you did all through the war? Put your life on the line to protect us? It seems only right that I return the favor.”

“That was different,” Echo objected. “We were soldiers. That was our purpose.”

“You’ve always been more than that,” Riyo said, taking his remaining hand in both of hers as she swayed closer to him. “May I ask you a question?”

“Anything,” he replied.

“It’s somewhat personal, so please don’t feel you need to answer if you’d rather not,” she said hesitantly.

Echo smiled. “Noted. Please go on.”

“Why did you decide to join Rex?” she asked. “You had a chance to have a life away from all of this—a life with Omega and your brothers. What made you choose to stay and fight?”

He paused for a moment, considering. “Fighting is—well, it’s all I’ve ever known,” he said slowly. “It’s what I was created for. When I was with the Batch, I was still risking my life nearly every day, but it was for petty, meaningless things. Missions that only served to make someone else rich. With Rex, at least I’ll know that I’m fighting for something. For a cause. That I’m risking my life to make a difference, to help people. And if I die…”

Riyo looked away, distress written plainly on her features. Echo cupped her chin gently and tilted her face back toward his, ghosting his thumb across her soft lips.

“If I die,” he continued, “it will be for something worthwhile.”

He felt her take a deep breath as she gazed up at him. “Echo—”

Raucous laughter burst from the garage, and she startled away from his touch.

“I should probably get back to the embassy,” she whispered, tearing her eyes away from his.

“Would you like an escort?” Echo asked.

“It’s kind of you to offer,” Riyo said with a smile, “but you must be exhausted after your mission. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Echo replied.

“Perhaps some other time,” she said.

Echo nodded, not wanting to pressure her. “Of course, Senator.”

He helped her carefully into her speeder, then watched as she piloted away from the platform and disappeared into the swarm of Coruscant traffic.

Rex caught Cerra’s eye and tilted his head meaningfully at Fireball. She took a deep, steadying breath, then went and sat next to the clone.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Free,” Fireball said with a shaky laugh.

She smiled. “How’s the pain? Are you up for having the inhibitor chip extracted?”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded.

“You can just call me Cerra,” she said. “Everybody else does.”

He nodded again, visibly relaxing. “Does it hurt? When you take out the chip?”

“You’d have to ask Rex or Gregor what it’s like,” Cerra said. “But you’ll be sedated, so you shouldn’t feel a thing. I’ll have to shave your head, though. Got any preferences for a hairstyle?”

“How do you think I’d look with a mohawk?” he asked with a roguish smile that reminded her so much of Fives that Cerra nearly gasped aloud.

It’s. Not. Him.

“Let’s find out,” she said with a forced smile. “You can always shave the rest of it off if you hate it.”

Echo rejoined the group just as Cerra finished shaving the sides of Fireball’s head. Since they already had experience using a similar pod to extract the inhibitor chips from the Bad Batch, he and Rex performed the extraction. Cerra and Gregor observed so they could handle the procedure in the future if necessary. The chip came out without any complications, and before long, Fireball was recovering on the sofa, sipping a glass of water while the rest of the team sat around him on crates, sharing a flagon of spotchka.

“Kilian, you said?” Fireball asked, eyeing Cerra curiously. “My first assignment was under an Admiral Kilian.”

Cerra nodded. “My uncle, Shoan Kilian. Whole family is military. That’s just what Kilians do.”

“And what did you do?” Fireball asked.

“Supply officer,” Cerra said with a self-deprecating shrug. “The more things change.”

“The admiral was a good man,” Fireball said. “I heard he retired.”

“He did,” Cerra said. “He lost someone close to him.”

“Ponds,” Fireball nodded.

Cerra looked at him sharply. “Yeah. After Ponds d—” The word lodged in her throat, and she swallowed before she continued. “Well, after Ponds, it was like all the fight went out of him.”

“I guess that’s understandable,” Fireball said.

“Not to me,” Cerra replied.

Echo followed the exchange closely, his gaze flicking between Cerra and Fireball. Cerra shifted, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

“I’m going to get some air,” she said. She grabbed another bottle of spotchka as she made her way to the edge of the landing platform. She sat down and dangled her feet over the abyss, staring out at the whizzing speeders.

She hadn’t spoken to her uncle in over a year. She hadn’t spoken to any of her family, actually. It was too much of a security risk, and besides, she couldn’t bear to face their disappointment and anger after she’d abandoned her post on the Ro-Ti-Mundi following the battle of Coruscant. In their eyes, it was the worst possible thing she could have done. She sometimes wondered if they would have preferred her to have gone down with the Resolute rather than desert.

She avoided her uncle Shoan for an entirely different reason. He knew better than anyone in her family what she had gone through, but at least he had retired honorably after his lover’s death. A bounty hunter had executed Ponds as Shoan watched, helpless to intervene. It had been a brutal but swift death in the line of duty, at the hands of a clear enemy. Fives had been hunted like an animal and then gunned down by his own brothers. He had been lost, confused, and terrified, and he had been murdered by the very men whose lives he was trying to save.

So no, Shoan did not understand Cerra’s decisions.

Lost in her thoughts, Cerra didn’t hear Gregor’s approach until he lowered himself to sit next to her on the edge of the platform. Had it been any of the other clones, she would have scowled at them until they went away. But it was Gregor: warm, steady, funny, comforting Gregor, who had taken a single look at Cerra and simply claimed her as his best friend the day that Rex introduced them all those months ago.

He settled next to her, bumping her shoulder with his and holding out his hand for the bottle of spotchka. Cerra handed it to him wordlessly, and he took a long drink. They sat together in silence for some time—unusual for the commando, who could run his mouth with the best. Sometimes, he reminded Cerra of Fives in that way. Gregor was gentler than Fives, whose sense of humor sometimes made him a little abrasive, but both of the clones had a way of drawing everyone around them into easy, friendly conversations that somehow became unshakable bonds.

Cerra felt immensely lucky to have a friend like Gregor, which is why she didn’t shove him off the platform when he inevitably started talking.

“How are your ribs?”

“Fine,” she said. “Definitely not broken.”

He gave her a skeptical look but let it go, and they once again lapsed into silence. Unfortunately, he couldn’t resist prodding again.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

She shrugged. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm loosely around her back and pressed a kiss to the top of her shaved head. His lips were warm against her skin, and she sighed as he rested his head against hers.

“Talk to me,” he cajoled.

“I talked to Riyo today,” she began slowly. “About Fox.”

Gregor’s shoulder tensed. “Yeah?”

Cerra hesitated, not wanting to reveal Riyo’s personal story that she’d shared in confidence; not even to Gregor. “They were friends. When she talked about him, it was so different from how I’ve always thought of him.”

She paused, and Gregor waited in silence as she gathered her thoughts. He squeezed his arm around her encouragingly, and she scooted closer to him, reaching for the spotchka bottle. He handed it to her, and she took a fortifying drink. At length, she continued.

“It was like, in my head, I’d built him up to be this monster, but Riyo only ever saw him as a good man.”

Gregor waited a moment to see if she was going to continue before he replied, “We all want to think the best of our friends. Heh, and the worst of our enemies, too.”

“Do you think Fox was under the influence of his inhibitor chip when he killed Fives?” she asked. Her voice sounded very small.

“Maybe,” he said. “We can never know for sure. But I think it’s a good thing that you can consider the possibility.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied firmly. “It’s progress.”

“Did it bother you to hear me talk about him the way I did before?” Cerra asked, feeling a stab of remorse about the many, many times she had cursed Fox in front of Gregor.

“Nah, kriff that brother-killer,” Gregor said easily. “I never knew him, and I don’t give a single kark about honoring his memory. But I give a lot of karks about you.”

Cerra laughed, a thick, ragged sound. “You’re a really good friend, Gregor. Maybe don’t say that in front of Riyo, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Is there anything else on your mind? You’ve been even quieter than usual the past few days.”

She looked behind them to make sure they were still alone on the platform before she replied.

“It’s Echo,” she confessed. “It’s strange to have him here, this constant reminder of Fives.”

“Is it the usual problem?” Gregor asked.

Cerra had told him months before how she struggled when meeting new clones, but that was not her current issue.

“No,” she said. “He looks different enough that I don’t get… confused.”

“What is it, then?” Gregor asked. He sounded a little defensive, and Cerra knew that he was torn between his friendship with her and his loyalty to the clone who’d helped rescue him from the Imperial base on Daro.

“It’s nothing he did,” she hastened to reassure him. “It’s just hard to meet the other person in the galaxy who was closest to Fives, but we don’t know each other at all. It’s like this giant, looming thing. I don’t know how to talk to him. I don’t know how to tell him that Fives and I—”

She faltered.

“Maybe you should get to know him,” Gregor suggested.

“Rex certainly seems to think so,” Cerra said with some asperity. “He wants me to take him with me on my next supply run.”

Gregor chuckled. “I don’t think Rex will ever stop feeling responsible for the boys in the 501st.”

“He needs to channel that energy into something productive instead of hounding me all the time,” Cerra said, disgruntled. “I hear needlepoint is very soothing.”

“Heh. I should ask him to embroider me something. Maybe a TK trooper helmet with the words, ‘Aim. Shoot. Miss.’”

“You know, you’re the one who taught them how to shoot,” Cerra pointed out.

“Good thing, too. We would probably be dead by now if I’d taught them properly,” Gregor said.

“Oh, so it was a strategic decision from an elite commando, then,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said with a giggle.

Cerra snuggled closer to him, reaching across to hold his free hand. She knew that the hoarseness in his voice sometimes made him self-conscious, but to her, it was the most comforting sound in the galaxy, because it was his.

“You know I never met Fives,” Gregor said quietly. “But I do know Echo. He’s a good man, Cerra. He saved my life. If Fives was anything like his twin, then it’s even more of a damn shame that I’ll never get to know him.”

“Fives would have loved you,” Cerra said. “I can’t imagine what kind of bizarre pranks the two of you would have gotten up to if you’d met.” Gregor laughed and nudged his knee playfully against her leg. “He’d be happy to know I have you to watch my back.”

“I always will,” Gregor promised, squeezing her into a hug. They stayed that way for hours, watching the airspeeders streak across the neon city, their dazzling lights swarming through the darkness of the night sky: a spiraling, unnatural galaxy of stars beyond number.

---

Next chapter

#stars beyond number #riyo chuchi #tbb echo #captain gregor #captain rex #oc: cerra kilian #echo x riyo chuchi #gregor x oc #dystopicjumpsuit writes #the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #tbb fanfic

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